" every scar will build my throne. "
He can’t remember their first kiss or Adna’s first steps but his heart could never forget how to tremble like a bird with a broken wing in the palm of her hand. The memory of her touch lives in the depths of his soul rather than the mind and so he burns for more of her affections. He settles into her embrace and sighs as she plucks the armor from his rough exterior. Beneath the fangs and scales, he is raw and vulnerable, but he lets her in without even being asked. She is ice to a fevered head. He kisses at any inch of skin he can reach as she begins to tell him their story.It hurts, trying to remember the river. It feels like an ice cold nail being driven into the base of his skull but he grits his teeth and bares it for her. He wants to remember why his heart churns and howls for her in the ink black depths of night whenever she’s down in the prisons. Why would he tear the sun from the sky for her? The taste of copper flows over his tongue as he continues to bite down, ravenous for his memories as the agony threatens to tear him apart. He can’t even hear her when she says she wants to repair all the broken pieces of their past for him.
And then it all goes white and static, like the blood can’t reach his eyes amidst the hell unleashing in his mind. His lungs seize and a slow groan of pain finds his lips despite his best efforts. A trickle of blood drips from his nostrils as it all comes crashing back into place. The river, the way he wanted to ruin her like spring morning spider webs, but she was too beautiful to harm. Adna blinking her eyes open for the first time. Fast forward to the winter Sabbath was born, when he was terrified they wouldn’t make it home. To Wolfbane naming him champion and calling him friend. To Shiya swearing she would find them and kill them all.
He coughs and red spatters across his lips. He went to the mountain for her, all for Leliana. And then he tried to rip her apart. Vulgaris finally sucks a breath in as his chest heaves and everything clicks back into place for him. How could she love him after so many broken apologies? He takes a step back and the cold wind quickly fills the gap between them. How could she love something like him?
But then Linnea speaks and he’s pulled from his thoughts long enough to focus on her. Their baby. His heart feels as though it may tumble right out of its chest as it tries to make sense of all the emotions flooding it. Vulgaris realizes, though, that he has to stay this time. He has to be a father and a husband – a good husband – this time.
He swallows, licks the blood from his lip and tries his best to look presentable as he meets his youngest baby for the first time.
“Hello, tiny girl. I’m your father,” he says, trying his best to smile without showing too many teeth. “Did your mother give you a name as beautiful as you?”
VulgariS
