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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    Adna;
    #1
    dovev

    He had long since dried.

    Patient was not exactly something anyone would ever consider him. But he was today. Endlessly patient. He waited so goddamn long. As long as it took. Until the girl was alone, her parents gone or her wandering ways removing her from them. He'd watched for a while, a long while, and analyzed where was the best place to be. Away from the chance of a run-in with her parents, either of them, but near enough to catch her attention eventually.

    However long it took.

    He'd grown tired of standing, and besides, he was a little frightful to look at. Not at all the beautiful colt he once was, so smooth and sleek and filled out. Muscled, even. Now skin and bones shielded by larger bones, filling him back out in a solid uniform of armor plates. And bloody, usually. It no longer hurt when they shifted, when they grew and pushed further out of his scrawny body, but it still bled like hell.

    His black gaze scanned his body idly, observing if he was indeed bleeding currently. Eh, maybe a little. Not as bad as it sometimes gets. Though maybe lowering his bulk to the ground like this would be at least a little less like a giant nightmare. Who knew. It was nice to rest for a bit though. These bones weren't exactly weightless.

    And then he just watched with sleepless, bloodshot eyes, and waited.

    Patiently.

    we're slaves to any semblance of touch

    Lord, we should quit but we love it too much


    #2
    Adna

    At first, Leliana didn’t give Adna the chance to wander freely. Instead, she remained fretful, worrying over their tiny, beautiful daughter, keeping her close. Too much had happened to Leliana as a child. Too much had scarred her heart and she grew anxious imagining the same happening to her daughter. Adna was too beautiful to ever be marred. Too spirited to ever be broken. She couldn’t bear the thought of it.

    But, as the months passed, Leliana grew more lax.

    She’s grown calmer, more stable, giving Adna the chance to wander their home. She allows her to explore the nooks and crannies of Loess, trusting in Vulgaris to keep an eye out and protect their child. Trusting in the residents and the kingdom’s security. And thus, she lets Adna free today, brushing her lips across her child’s beautiful scaled forehead, whispering, “Be safe, my heart, and have fun. Come back with stories.”

    Adna always did.

    Today, she is climbing the mountainous parts of Loess, her tiny lungs expanding with the joy of it, her green eyes glittering with excitement. This is what her dad did. He climbs to overlook the kingdom. He patrols and watches over her and mama and the rest of those who called it home. He is so strong, she thinks, and one day, she would be too. She’d be a fighter liker her dad. Not a healer like her mom.

    The thought makes her puff her chest out a little and giggle with excitement as she imagines it. The battles. The wars. She skitters to the side and rears, punching out her delicate, scaled legs and whinnying. The sound nearly dies in her throat when she sees the stallion resting on the ground, bone exploding from his body, blood seeping down to the ground. “Woah,” she exhales, dropping back to the ground and moving closer to him. Curiosity is clear on her youthful, girlish face, the lines of it so similar despite the scales and eyes that are all her father. “What are you?” she asks, all bravery—brash and honest.

    #3
    dovev

    His eyes were on her the moment she was in view, watching her play. He watched her attack the air, run around. It made his heart ache so goddamn badly. It made him miss his daughter that would never love him, would never let him touch her. He hadn't realized how deep he'd buried the pain, but he felt it surge back to life now, pushing a tear to spill over. He swallowed hard. Set it all aside. Buried it back down.

    But it hurt him for far more than just that.
    That should've been his baby.
    And it was his own fault that it wasn't. It always would be.

    He choked on it, coughed it out with a burn in his nose, a sting in eyes. The pain went deeper than he'd let on, deeper than he'd allowed even himself to realize. And he pushed it all down in desperation, a drowning man struggling for the surface again. This was nothing. He'd had worse. This was nothing.

    She moved closer, finally noticed him and approached boldly. God, he fucking hated those scales covering her, those goddamn eyes that weren't her mother's. He didn't even realize his mouth was twisted in a disgusted snarl. But he set it right again, smoothed his features into vague annoyance with himself for any of this. He never should've came.

    He was a glutton for punishment, though, didn't you know.
    What are you, she asked, and he grunted, turned his head and spit out the blood and phlegm he'd choked on a moment ago.

    "Bit of a monster, I suppose," he answered in a bored tone, his voice thick and raw from crying, and he wasn't ashamed of that. He looked her over with reddened eyes, nodded his head at her little body in gesture. "You know what you are, though?" He wasn't necessarily unkind, but he wasn't exactly vomiting rainbows at her. He was just himself. Talking to this child as he would anyone else.

    And killing himself more with every minute he put himself through this. But he'd damn well do it. Let it hurt, then. He'd been trained by a goddamn magician to withstand it. So fuckin' bring it on. He welcomed it.

    He deserved it.

    we're slaves to any semblance of touch

    Lord, we should quit but we love it too much


    #4
    Adna

    He’s different than anyone she’s ever known.

    He isn’t like daddy with his scales and fangs who turned to goo around her, playing tag and tucking her in at night, kissing her forehead and then kissing mother. He isn’t like mama either, with her soft eyes and quiet songs, singing gently to her as she worries over her, telling her stories of adventures and love as she takes her to the playground. He’s something different entirely, and she wonders if he is like the bad guy in the stories that mama tells—the one so clearly divided into good and bad, light and darkness. The kind of stories with black and white dividers that always wrap up so neatly by the end of them.

    (Nothing like the truth of mama’s life, although Adna has no idea of such things.)

    “A monster?” she asks, eyes growing wide. “What is a monster doing here?”

    She’s a little more hesitant now, suspicion settling into her bones as her serpentine eyes narrow, watching as he spits the blood onto the ground. That certainly looked like something a bad guy would do, but he wasn’t attacking her or being mean, and she’s not sure at all what she is supposed to do. Truthfully, she should be more frightened than she is, but she’s never had any reason to not be brave. Her parents always watched over her, always protected her. There had never been any reason to not feel safe.

    At his question, she tilts her head to the side. The sun catches the mahogany of her scales, her mother’s coloring shining through features that are all her father’s. “I’m Adna?” her voice lifts at the end, turning the answer into a question. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.” She’s never thought about it before. Never thought about what she is. She was just Adna. Just a little snake girl who had been born into a seemingly perfect family. She had never had to think of herself in any other context.

    But the question makes her nervous, her stomach beginning to hurt, and she takes a step back.

    “Do I need to call for my daddy?”

    #5
    dovev

    She seemed surprised to find that he was a monster, by his words only and not by her own experiences she'd likely have in the future. He grunted and watched her evenly, her little eyes widening as she watched him too.

    "I'm Adna?" she kinda asked back, really. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

    He clenched his teeth at that. He already hated the way she was being raised. But then what the hell did he know. It wasn't like he was a father. His own daughter couldn't stand to have him near and left him to live with his greatest enemy. Preferred his enemy over her own father. His last little piece of Cerva. Of perfection.

    Fuck.

    He ignored the tear slipping down his cheek beneath his mask, swallowed hard. His sharp gaze studied her as she took a cautious step back, finally catching on that he was a danger, even lying here in a pile of bone armor and heartache. Perhaps more so for the heartache. It often made him do things, act more rashly than he typically did.

    "Do I need to call for my daddy?"

    His lip pulled up in an amused sneer. "Not unless you'd like to watch him die." It was matter of fact, completely accurate. He nodded to his bone plate on one shoulder, clacking the nose of his mask against it pointedly. "You see these scratches? And that little chip there. I've been in countless fights, little babe. I always walk away," or pass out with dead bodies for a bit first, it happens. "I leave death in my wake, not injuries."

    He shifted his weight a little, getting as comfortable as he could manage. "So you'd be killing your daddy if you did. Because I take it he's not big on chatting, hm? He'd see me with you and attack. And I'd fight back. The end." Which means he'd be leaving another body in his wake and not blinking an eye for it. Not even for his Leliana. Well. Perhaps he'd let the bastard live for her. He didn't really want to find out how far he'd go for her even now.

    She deserved this family she'd made for herself.
    And he didn't. It was why he hadn't had any more kids after Atrani.
    It was why he'd backed off Leliana when he had her under him, when he nearly took her completely. Had wanted to so badly.

    But how could he curse his angel to spawn another of himself?
    She deserved better.

    She could've used the new opportunity to choose someone better, though. This one was weak, not strong enough to let her go so she could find someone more deserving. Dov had already sized him up and determined the idiot wasn't worthy of her. He didn't deserve her. But whatever. If she was happy, then he'd stay out of it. That was all that mattered. No matter how it killed Dov to see it.

    "C'mere, little babe," he murmured tiredly with a little gesture of his chin. He wasn't done punishing himself yet, it seemed. He knew she wouldn't. Even his own daughter wouldn't come near him, let him touch her. But he would always try anyway, make it hurt more to take the rejection. "Lay with me just a moment before I have to leave. You won't see me again. All I have are these few short minutes, and then I need to leave and stay away."

    Danger always followed him, and he wouldn't let it find her. His little Leliana.

    we're slaves to any semblance of touch

    Lord, we should quit but we love it too much


    #6
    Adna

    Her stomach churns lightly, and she frowns at him, pretty face distorted with confusion.

    He was crying but he also looked a little angry—so it wasn’t like the crying she did when she tripped and fell, knees scuffed up and mama racing around the corner to scoop her close and kiss her cheeks dry. She tilts her head to the side, small ears perking and then swiveling amongst the fluff of her mane and forelock. When he mentions killing her dad, she can’t decide whether to laugh or run away. Dad couldn’t be killed. She knew that. Her chest puffs up a little and her face turns a little sharper.

    “You shouldn’t lie. Mama told me that’s really bad.”

    She sticks her nose out, peering down at him.

    “Daddy can’t be killed. He’s the best fighter around—in all of Beqanna. In the whole universe!”

    Her thin voice gets a little higher at the end but she can’t deny the small tendrils of fear that she feels in the pit of her stomach—because what if he was right? What if he would kill her daddy? She frowns again and turns her head over her shoulder to look back to where Vulgaris would likely be patrolling. She looks back and her brow is furrowed, pretty lip pressed together into a thin line.

    “But okay…” her voice trails off as she looks back to him. “We have to be quiet though. He’ll find me.”

    He always found her. Whenever they were playing hide and seek. Whenever she snuck off in the middle of the night. He was always there, peering down at her with those laughing eyes and the loving smile. He always knew how to find her. It didn’t matter how well she hid or how fast she ran.

    But she needed to be really quiet now.

    She couldn’t hurt him.

    He beckons her closer and there’s something about him that looks sad, that looks a little broken, and she forgets her fear. She just hears Leliana’s voice ringing in her ears, urging her to be kind, to listen when others needed to talk, to be there when others wouldn’t. So she doesn’t run. Her ears flicker and she takes a step to him, leaning her mahogany and ink muzzle down to wipe at the tear that ran down his cheek, just like Leliana always did to her. “You seem sad,” she says quietly, whispering to him. Hesitantly, she leans down and curls up next to him. “Do you have to go? I thought we were going to be friends.”

    #7
    dovev

    He just stared at her.
    He wasn't the type to have the patience to lie. He didn't waste the energy on saying so. Didn't waste the energy to comment on her speech about her invincible dad, either, though his eyes hardened. Deep down, he already knew the reality of it. The one he didn't want to admit.

    He'd kill for that man to stay alive.
    For Leliana. For their girl.

    And he meant his and Leliana's. This girl was his now.

    He only nodded silent agreement that they'd need to be quiet so her daddy wouldn't find her. Or him. Fighting was his way of life, what he'd always done. What he'd always do. And somehow he'd have to stop himself from killing, what he was trained to do as quickly as possible. Go for the kill, don't waste time. What he does by reflex, without thinking about it anymore.

    He'd have to waste time. Go against everything he knew, against his own nature.
    He hoped it'd never come to that.

    Better would be to hear about a hit on this guy, take them out first before he has time to learn of it. Killing is what he does. He'd get some enjoyment in that, even as it would be vodka in his fresh wound that he was protecting the man he'd rather be killing. The bastard probably hated Dovev, probably thought he had an enemy in him. When he'd unwittingly gained his protection by shoving his dick where it didn't belong. Well, he'd now live on to do it as much as he'd like. The jackass.

    He sighed. No more thinking about it.

    She surprised him, though he didn't show it much, reaching out to brush a tear away from his cheek. His chest filled with a form of hope, and quiet pride. There's her momma, after all. Buried in deep where it counted the most. Good girl.

    "You seem sad," she said, surprising him more by curling up next to him. He stayed completely still, afraid moving would wake her from this acceptance of him. His own daughter wouldn't lay here this way. Or, well, this daughter does. He'd try to remember that, not break it. This daughter would. His now.

    "Do you have to go? I thought we were going to be friends."

    He curled his neck tentatively, very carefully, cautiously, breathing a warm breath over the scales between her shoulders. "I am sad," he confirmed in barely a murmur, not looking at her face. "I lose everything that matters to me.. And if I don't lose it, I make certain that I do." Nothing would ever go right in his life, he'd make sure of it whether he intended to or not.

    "We can't be friends, baby. You matter to me. I can't come back for you even if I want to." He was still so quiet, leaning in just a little more to touch his lips on her so hesitantly. He may never feel her again. She was his, though. He brushed his lips slowly along her neck, just at the edge of her little mane, breathing in her scent. Memorizing every tiny moment. Trying his best not to frighten her with his possessive nature. Her momma hadn't minded it so much, but she was only partly her momma.

    "You are mine, though. You find me if you ever need anything, and I'll keep you safe."

    we're slaves to any semblance of touch

    Lord, we should quit but we love it too much


    #8
    Adna

    She doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, although there’s a part of her that desperately wants to.

    She curls next to him, furrowing her brow and trying to put together puzzle pieces that were made for someone much older than herself—for someone who had significantly more mental capacity than she. There is a part of her that almost gives up, breaking it apart and throwing it on the floor, and another part of her that keeps at it, fingers working the knot, picking at it slowly, hoping that it will unwind before her.

    She feels his warm breath across her back and it feels different than when she is curled up next to daddy, his smooth scales right against her own, but it also doesn’t feel wrong either—and in many ways, it feels the exact same. She can feel the same warmth, the same tenderness, the same protectiveness. It feels a little like the way it feels when daddy rests near her while she sleeps, enough to lull her into a sense of security, a young girl’s confidence that this armored stallion was just as good, just as loving as her dad.

    I lose everything that matters to me.

    She frowns at this, twisting up to look at him, her serpentine eyes thoughtful. Lost? She thinks for a minute before her face brightens with a smile, the expression causing her fanged mouth to widen. “I am really, really good at finding things!” she exclaims, although not too loud because he was so close. “I can help you find things. Whatever it is. I can even find my mama when she hides and she hides so good.”

    A soft giggle.

    
“Although not that good. You can always see the red. But don’t tell her I told you that.”

    The laughter leaves her eyes though when he tells her that they can’t be friends, a soft whoosh leaving her mouth. She wasn’t used to rejection. Had never experienced it before. She dims and looks down, brows wrinkling as she stares at the dirt. “Oh, okay,” she murmurs. “That’s okay. We don’t have to be friends.”

    Something clicks in her brain though, a memory she isn’t even sure she remembers having and she looks back at him, reaching out to touch the bones arching painfully out of him. “You look like my mama kind of,” she says quietly. “Her wings sometimes look just like this when she’s sleeping. Isn’t that weird?”

    #9
    dovev

    He grunted in soft, tired amusement when she promised she was so good at finding things and could help him search for what he'd lost. He'd already found it though. Could find anything. Anything but happiness for those he loved, anyone he touched.

    He was cursing her too, even as he lay here trying to keep distant. But he didn't want to be distant. He wanted to hold her and this stupid damn skin covering her, brush his lips over her young muscles and wish he could have more than this brief moment.

    But it would kill her at some point, or at the very least, break her. He always broke them.

    He pulled a smile on for her, a silent promise that he wouldn't tell her gorgeous momma that Leliana didn't hide so well. It dimmed just as hers did, because he told her they couldn't be friends. He wished they could. He hated to hurt her, but she was so lucky this was the only hurt she'd have from him. All the good he could do was keep watch, from a distance, as he always would.

    She reached for him, and he froze again, held his breath and watched her. "You look like my mama kind of," she told him so quietly, and goddamn, she drove a knife into his heart. He couldn't even imagine Leliana would look like this anymore, ever. Not after everything. But his girl continued, "Her wings sometimes look just like this when she's sleeping. Isn't that weird?"

    He swallowed hard, held more tears at bay because he'd spilled enough of them before this baby girl already. Damn, his nose stung like hell, his heart ached. He shook his head a little for her, swallowing again so he could speak. "No, not so strange, my little babe." He stole another tentative nuzzle on her scaled skin, a last touch, last memory, drawing his lips over her neck.

    "A nightmare," he explained softly.

    He shouldn't stay. So he leaned back with a sigh.
    "I should go now, babe." The longer he stayed, the more danger he put her in. "Promise you won't forget me?" he said with a weak but boyish grin, trying to lighten up for her. Everything for her. He tucked his nose under her little chin and gave her a little bump, gentle. "But no nightmares for you, right? Only smiles. You got that?"

    He studied her carefully. "And probably you shouldn't mention this to your daddy, hm? Not your momma either. I don't belong here and we don't want to get you into trouble, right? I think I'd might die if you were sad," he teased sweetly, showing just a little charm because he couldn't help it. He wanted this little Leliana. Needed her smile. Just one more before he was gone.

    we're slaves to any semblance of touch

    Lord, we should quit but we love it too much


    #10
    Adna

    He is confusing but interesting and she decides right here and now that it doesn’t really matter what he says because they are friends. He is different from any of her other friends (a little older, a little meaner, a little skinnier even though he is so much bigger) but none of that matters because he is her friend.

    And she will find him again, even if he said she can’t.

    Daddy always did say she wasn’t the best at listening (although he kind of always looks proud when he says it). It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t want her to come find him because she was going to—

    eventually.

    Just as soon as she can figure out a way to sneak away from daddy and momma.

    She frowns at him when he explains that it was a nightmare, scrunching up her nose.

    “That’s not what she said,” she says hesitantly before lifting her chin a little higher. “It’s nothing, baby girl,” she says in her best Leliana impression, a little breathy and a little too low. “Just a lovely dream.”

    Then she giggles and focuses on what he is saying because it seems incredibly important.

    “I won’t forget about you,” she says, her voice a little quieter. She reaches up and plants a kiss on his jaw, being careful to keep her fangs tucked away. Daddy always warns her about them, that the wrong move and they could cause too much hurt. “You won’t forget about me, right? Even if I’m not your friend?”

    Her heart hurt a little in her chest and she is surprised by the sensation but doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t seem like the right time to tell him that. Instead she just gives him a grin, the sadness disappearing as he grows a little playful. “No nightmares for me!” She swings her head back and forth, dropping back into that childish impression of her mother’s throaty voice. “Just lovely dreams. Lovely, lovely dreams.”

    When he mentions her daddy, she pauses, and she tilts her reptilian glance back up at him, one corner of her mouth growing mischievous. “Like a secret?” She thinks on that, deciding that she likes it quite a bit. “I like secrets. You can be my secret friend.” Another grin back at him, her scaled legs tucked neatly beneath her chest, thinking nothing of the fact that she just admitted that they would be friends.

    They would.

    And he would just have to learn how to deal with it.





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