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    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


    this is all of me for all the world to see; leliana
    #1
    This was stupid. A mistake.
    He should just leave her the hell alone.

    A goddamn boulder was tied to his heart, weighing it down, weighing him down. He could hardly breathe under the pressure of it. His spine felt crushed, his chest tight. And yet he walked. And yet he entered the place she lived. He felt like he was suffocating, slowly smothered to death.

    Because this was the part where he never saw her again.

    He found her beneath the moon, at the coast, her peachy guardian absent for now. She stared away from Ischia, away from him. Her back was all he'd ever see from now on, as she walked away. He swallowed a tightness in his throat as though he could clear it, a vise clutching his chest.

    Leliana.. he began reluctantly, hesitantly, staring at her back. Because there was no way she'd ever speak to him again after tonight. But how do you tell someone you are not at all what they thought? How was he supposed to watch the shame and hurt soil her pretty face when she finally heard it from him that he had a family? When she would sure think she had been just a bit of entertainment? He didn't wait for her to turn to him.

    Leliana, I-- but he breathed, and he smelled. Zoryn.  His pupils shrank in instant fury, eyes sharpened, nostrils flared. A feral growl formed low in his throat, and he stepped to her unbidden. He circled close, body heat rising in rage and reaching for her as his nose tracked Zoryn's path around her. He made sure not to touch her, only followed that scent so near her body as it trailed to her hind quarters.

    Zor had lingered there, at her tail. His ears pinned back and his jaw clenched tight, knowing full well what the bastard had wanted. But he hadn't taken it, hadn't taken her. The beast in the golden man's soul had remained in its chains. He could tell, because he knew what it looked like when it claimed its freedom. He knew how differently she would have smelled, how bloody she would have been.

    He moved forward, following Zor to her shoulder where the violent evidence still remained. Up her neck, around her front, to her cheek where another injury glared accusations at him. Goddammit Zor, what the hell! His hard eyes sought hers, trapped in a wild wrath that nearly glowed in his black eyes. If ever there was a Hellhorse, it was him, with molten lava for blood and steam in his mouth. The fires of hell burned in him, and death and destruction trailed in his wake.

    Heal, he barked low, voice as dark and dangerous as his mood.

    #2

    I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
    no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell


    The gold and white stallion had left as quickly as he had arrived. She hadn’t moved for several moments, but when she was certain that he had left, when she couldn’t smell him, feel him, she had begun to shake. Her entire body trembled with the fear—with the terror that racked inside of her—but she didn’t cry. Not now. She gasped for air as it finally expelled her body, the sound whooshing out of her as she struggled to find her balance, to right herself. The entire thing had been so surreal, so out-of-body.

    Even though he was gone, she could swear she felt his breath on her skin.

    How she got home, she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t search for Exist; she couldn't bear to show her sister the scars of her shame. She didn’t even extend her own healing powers toward it. She deserved to wear these; she deserved to feel the sting and the ache. She left the wound on her cheek, the flap of skin from her shoulder, gaping and open and ugly. She could have stitched, could have done away, but she didn’t.

    She stood like that for hours, amber eyes looking out into the distance but not actually seeing anything at all. She didn’t hear him the first time he said her name or the second. She barely registered how close he had come to touching her. It wasn’t until she heard his command that her illusion of control shattered and she turned to him, dove into his side without thinking, her motion wordless. She buried her battered face into the curve of his powerful neck, the tears that she had held back finally flowing, racking her body.

    “Dovev,” she moaned between sobs, closing her eyes and willing herself to not feel Zoryn’s body against hers, his mouth laying claim to her curves, his voice ripping apart her realities. She willed herself to not think about the hot roll of his breath against her jaw, the pressure of his teeth closing on her flesh, the sound her skin made when it tore apart. She shuddered and pressed closer to him, drinking in his warmth, ignoring the fury that rolled off him—that which made him so dangerous and so volatile.

    Eventually—eventually—the sobs subsided. The earthquakes that rattled through her bones turned into minor tremors and then stillness, her silent tears slipping out the corner of her eyes and then drying. She took deep gulps of air, pressing her forehead into him, stealing the safety of his nearness. When she was certain that she had control of her breath, of her emotions, she whispered something quietly.

    “You mean ‘Heal please.’”

    It was enough of a memory that she dragged herself backward out of the fear, forcing herself to find her inner calm. For a moment, a second longer, she remained there, curled into his side, breathing him in, before she peeled away, loathing the distance even as it opened up. But she couldn’t be so selfish—not knowingly. When there was a foot or so between them, she took another steadying breath, and then found his gaze with her own, holding it, however shaky it might. “And I won’t. I can’t. I don’t deserve to heal.”

    I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
    like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

    [Image: avatar-1975.gif]
    the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity
    #3
    The rage burned, incinerated his veins and barely contained in consuming black eyes. His dark heart thumped steadily, resolute and confident in the destruction that would come. The terrifying decimation he would bring. She would learn the truth of him, of this cruelty, but not from him. She would hear it in the fear tightening the voices that spoke his name. In the wildness of their eyes at the thought of ever seeing him again. If they lived.

    When his darkness would surround him like a brutally hungry aura, naturally repel anyone from nearing him, she instead launched herself at him, sank into it as though she belonged there in the depths of hell with him. A grunted oomph soaked in the unexpected collision, his body held stiffly in the grip of his fury.

    "Dovev," she moaned between sobs, broken tears spilling over his cloak of malevolence. Yes, that name. The name of Death that sounded so much like a savior on her tongue, so much like rescue. Safety.
    Well, she was that. She was safe with him. Always.

    He shielded her from the dark truths in his eyes, caged his temper and crushed her to him, a tear falling freely. Look at what he'd done to her, what he'd brought into her life. If only he wasn't such a selfish bastard, clutching to her memories and craving more, making more. Always needing more. He could never truly fix this for her. All he ever did was make things worse.
    But he'd make them worse enough for someone else.

    Zor must have lost his memory too.
    He would need a reminder.

    Perhaps he was her savior in a way. This was going to take a sacrifice, and he'd willingly pay it. For her. To make certain it never happened again. This was his fault.

    Slowly, her trembling began to still, her tears drying up. "You mean 'heal please,'" she corrected him quietly. He didn't respond, only held himself in place and opened his eyes as she detached from his side. The fires had cooled a little. For her. But a decision was made, and he'd pay the price for her. "And I won't. I can't. I don't deserve to heal."

    And the fires were back, alive and seeking to consume.
    What do you mean you don't deserve to heal, he ground out, staring hard into those soft, soulful eyes. Why the hell wouldn't she just cure it? Healing was practically like breathing to her. She would nearly kill herself trying to bring him from the brink of death but she wouldn't remove Zor's blemishes? Did she want him to always see it, always have that reminder of how he hadn't been there when she needed him? Like she had always been there for him.

    His eyes slid to the welt at her cheek, still open to the cool night air. It had to hurt, both of them. Why did she choose the pain. He stepped in, so close, muzzle slowly reaching for her and passing over it. He could still smell Zoryn in it, mingled with the scent of her blood. The bastard had probably licked it, tasted her as he was known to do. Was that what she wanted then? For Dovev to tend her, to taste her, and replace every hint of Zoryn's scent that clung so tightly to her.

    There was suddenly a different feel to this. With lips so close to her cheek, he sought her eyes again. Confused. Uncertain. And yet so very certain.

    Tell me what you want, he breathed. He'd do anything for her, to fix this instead of make it worse. As he was known to do. But no, not anything, not everything. But was there anything at all he could do to convince her to heal it? To take her pain away.

    #4

    I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
    no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell


    It was painful, to pull away from him, to feel the sting of the cold air against her open wounds instead of the warmth of his touch. She had lived within that ghost of a memory for but a second, soaked in the few moments of time stretched too thin—and then it had been gone, snatched from her very fingertips. She did not tremble, but she felt the quivers in her belly, the trembles in her bones. She felt the way that her body revolted against the space, her very cells dragging her forward to home, to him, to his side.

    She resisted.

    Despite the urge to drop her gaze, to study the ground beneath her feet, she forced herself to look him in the eye, to meet his rage with her calm, her expression smoothed over as if she did not have tumultuous sea of emotions bubbling and simmering beneath the surface. “Because I still want you,” she said quietly, her voice steady in spite of everything, in spite of the pain of her wounds and the fear she still felt after her encounter with Zoryn and, oh, most of all, in spite of the way she longed for him now.

    “I know,” she closed her eyes and swallowed, struggling to form the words. “I know you have a child, a lover…a family.” Her voice broke on the last word, a gasp as if it was a dagger to the belly and not a word she had once considered so sweet. “I know all of that and yet, I stand here, and I still want you. I still ache for you.” She looked away for a second, breath unsteady, the emotions boiling up her throat and disrupting the white-knuckled grip she held on her control. When she glanced back, there were tears in the corners of her eyes, the surface of them shiny with emotion. “I still love you, Dovev.”

    It was the first time she had said it out loud, the first time she had admitted it even to herself, and even though the words felt treacherous on her tongue, they felt right—the weight of them settling amongst the curves of her jaw. She shook her bleeding head. “I am a fool to feel this way.” Her wings shifted at her side, turning into that familiar onyx and ivory and constellations, holding her when he could not.

    “I am selfish and foolish and I should bear these wounds. They are nothing more than I deserve.”

    She could smell him, and part of her wanted to bridge the distance, but she restrained herself. He did not want her, not really, and despite the love that singed her breast, she did not want to be the one to ruin his family—to shatter his child’s chance at normalcy. She had grown up an orphan with her sister. She did not want to thrust any of that unhappiness onto an innocent. So the distance remained. Cold and infinite.

    I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
    like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

    [Image: avatar-1975.gif]
    the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity
    #5
    Cerva still had not come home.

    That was the thought, the reminder, going through his mind as he stared into her lovely face. All the soft curves, all the warmth. All the beauty. Except for the bite taken from her cheek -goddamn Zoryn-, bare and bleeding. Painful. It didn't really take away from her attraction though, only distracted from it. Made you wonder who would dare break an angel. But why wouldn't she just heal it?

    His gaze slowly trailed back up and their eyes met, stealing his breath.
    "Because I still want you." His heart leaped, swelled, and yet was violently pierced in the same moment. Surprised hurt reflected in his face, tugging his brows together. She wouldn't heal..because of him. Because wanting him was bad. She'd rather feel the pain, a constant reminder of her mistake. He swallowed.

    Her eyes closed, she couldn't even look at him, "I know you have a child, a lover...a family." He tore his eyes away, guilt and sadness expanding in his chest. A family. Thats what Cerva had wanted. That's what he'd given her. But she'd left them. She asked him to go on, but she never came. She couldn't bear to be with him, could no longer love him. Even little Atrani was not wholly accepting of his attention, and she couldn't even see him. Couldn't know how frightening he looked. A family.

    "I know all of that and yet I stand here, and I still want you. I still ache for you." This all should bring him happiness, but instead it stung him. Tore him apart. Because these were the reasons she wouldn't remove the marks Zor had left on her. A message to him she chose to shout, and shout forever. He suddenly couldn't stand still anymore. He had to move.

    He began pacing. Rejected by all. Cerva abandoned them. Atrani would probably never love him, her own sire. Now Leliana. Oh god, not Leliana too. "I still love you, Dovev." He wished she'd stop talking. Every word was another stab punched into him, twisted and yanked upward to gut him open and spill him out. God, how he wanted to hear those words. He hadn't even realized he wanted it, but now he knew. And now they were killing him.

    "I am a fool to feel this way." More truth, more pain.
    "I am selfish and foolish and I should bear these wounds. They are nothing more than I deserve."
    Because she loved him. She deserved the pain because she loved him. She felt unworthy to use her own magic because of him.
    Look at her. He stopped, forced himself to. Skin hung loosely from the gash at her perfect shoulder, blood trickling down as freely as his own wounds did. And her wings. Clutched around her in his likeness. He moaned inwardly and turned away, continued his pacing. His fault.

    All his life, Cerva was a constant. Until he trained, until he learned to focus so acutely that everything else was forgotten. And now gone, forever. Left adrift and alone. But not alone. His little Cerva, his Atrani. All he had left. But even she- even she was lost to him. She may never care for him as he cared for her. Nothing even close, if she even stayed. If she didn't choose to wander when he wasn't looking and disappear from him forever just like Cerva. And now Leliana.

    He tried to hold them so gently, so delicately. But he didn't know his own strength and gripped them, shattered them. Each one reopened the last wounds, dug in deeper and bled more. Oh god, not Leliana too. Unworthy now because of him. Undeserving to be cured and whole and beautiful. His breaths came ragged and dry, legs trembling and body shaking. He couldn't do this. He couldn't stay here. He didn't even know what to say to her. He didn't fix things, he only made them worse.

    He had no hope that Cerva would return. He felt like Atrani would not remain with him for long; she would run off and he'd never find her again. His heart broke. It felt like his life was draining away. Leliana was just the last piece to fall away. The deepest thread to unravel and tatter. He shook his head, distressed, quaking. And turned to walk away.

    All he had was Zoryn.
    Zoryn never left, never regretted him.
    But he would this time. He hurt Leliana and he'd pay.


    #6

    I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
    no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell


    His hurt surprises her, catches her off guard.

    She focuses in on the bewilderment in his eyes, the confusion, and the way he paces like a sudden animal. The way that his muscles jump under his coat, the blood that pools by his very bones, the armor that erupts from his flesh. It hurts worse than the flesh that peels away from it, it stings and bruises in ways that she never knew that it could.

    The way that he ignores her proclamation hurts in way that Zoryn never could.

    But suddenly he is turning and leaving her, walking away as if she had never said anything at all. She takes a stumbling step forward, a soft cry uncorking from her throat to spill out into the air between. "Wait!" Her voice was uneasy, broken along the edges, as she took another step and then dropped her head, a crease growing between her brow. She swallowed back the tears as they formed, the hurt that grew so steadily there.

    For a long moment, she said nothing.

    Could say nothing.

    How could she explain to him that she was going to ask him to stay? That in spite of everything she just said, all of the truths that were on her tongue, she was still going to ask him to lie with her, to sleep? Self-loathing incinerated her veins as she looked away, disbelief at her own selfish desires, their greedy hands that continually reached for him.

    He didn't even want her and she still threw herself before him. She placed herself on the pyre of her dreams, her own twisted memories. She had been nothing to him. She had been just a tryst. A distraction. A momentary burst of entertainment. And he? He had been everything. He had ignited things in her that she didn't know were possible. His touch had birthed passions she didn't know were possible. He lived inside of her now.

    And she would have to endure that.

    She would have to live forever knowing she loved a man who hadn't cared for her at all.

    Still, all of that knowledge didn't stop her from lifting her head, from finding the depthless gaze, from forming words she knew she would regret. (Why torture herself with the truth? Why let him slip yet another dagger between her ribs?)

    She had to know.

    "Why..."

    Her voice caught, breath unsteady.

    "Why did you come to Tephra?"

    I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
    like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

    [Image: avatar-1975.gif]
    the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity
    #7
    Wait.

    It was just a word, easily dismissed like any other. And yet, from her pretty mouth, it held him captive. He froze, his feet landing and halting completely, head bowed beneath the weight of his anguish. She always seemed to be gifted the power over him, passed so thoughtlessly to her gentle hands. Brought to heel at a simple word off her tongue. Hellbeast turned housepet.

    Why...Why did you come to Tephra?
    His head tilted just enough to catch her question from a shattered little voice, confused and lost like him. He had to pause a while and think on it. Because he couldn't remember now. Zoryn's retaliation had wiped every previous thought from his mind, the wounds of his time with her glaring so furiously back at him. And when she refused to heal, he was consumed in this sharp ache that swallowed him now, heart-breaking suffering that she would rather feel the pain and live with her weeping injuries. Because of him.

    His back still to her, he turned his eyes to the sea; away from the land.

    Tephra. He hated the name, hated this place. It reeked of the bastard that abandoned Cerva, just like everyone else in her life. But Dovev was the only one deserving of her abandonment, it seemed. Gone. Soon, his baby Atrani would follow. And he'd lose Leliana too. That's what he'd come to this place for, wasn't it? To lose her. To tell her he had a family and watch her turn away from him forever. But he didn't have a family. Cerva wasn't coming home and he needed to get that through his thick skull. All things he was not prepared to say just then.

    Finally, he turned to her, his face blank. Tonight was supposed to be a time of truths. Only a few. If he was going to lose her, he'd do it as he held her. Because he was such a selfish bastard and he wanted her pressed against him. Needed to feel her again. There was hesitation though. The wounds ruining her perfect skin were so very loud to him, so accusing, and he had to glance away. It was only a moment before he was forcing his eyes to hers, holding that fragile gaze in his as he stalked purposefully back to her. She'd done it again; carefully warped his mood from reluctance, to rage, to depression, and now this. Subdued for her.

    The heat of his body wrapped around her, cradled her close. That fragrance that was hers alone -something wild and beautiful- surrounded him, filled his mind in a delightful haze. It stirred such perfect memories that had his dark eyes softening and his blood warming. She wouldn't heal herself, but he couldn't bear to see them and his mouth hovered at her shoulder. Large and gaping, it could not be easily tended. Only by her, would it be so simple.

    Leliana.. he breathed softly, his heart aching. The heat of his tongue gently pressed to the edge of it, nursing her. Just for tonight he would become something new; a fixer, instead of a destroyer.

    He wished it didn't feel so good to taste her this way. So good. His breath shortened. The metallic bite in his mouth mixed with the scent of her coaxed a low vibration in his throat, a pleased Hnnng. He wished he didn't want to replace every hint of Zoryn's passing with his own scent. To cover every inch of her with him. She was broken by him, and upset. And he was definitely shifting into something else again.

    Leliana, he said again, darker and heavier. A warning. A plea to make him stop.

    #8

    I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
    no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell


    And then, before she knew it, he was there again.

    She was wrapped in him, submerged in his presence, his mouth on her shoulder, his name on her tongue. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, releasing whatever grasp she had on doubts and fears. She forgot why she had been telling him no, why she had held herself apart when this was so natural and so right. A low hum built at the base of her throat and then swelled in her chest, low and musical and full of fog.

    “Dovev,” his name slipped off a drunk tongue as she curled her head into him, pressing her forehead first into the warmth of his thin neck. Then, she pulled back just enough for her mouth to find his jaw, tracing the edges of it as she had the first encounters, when everything had been so sweet and simple.

    Except that wasn’t quite true, was it? Nothing between them had been simple. It had always been complex; it had been wildfires erupting across her flesh, hurricanes billowing into her chest. It had been the power and the majesty of a natural disaster from the very start. And this? This was nothing different.

    His sweet tending to her wounds stung but eased the pain and stirred something else in her. Without her prompting, without thought, her own healing unraveled and sprung to life, the tiny threads of it reacting to his touch. Her wound began to close beneath his prompting, the flesh beginning to heal, the edges of it reaching for one another. With each touch, it continued, slow and steady like the waves upon the shore.

    “Dovev,” she answered his warning with a submission of her own, uncaring about the darkness in his mouth; she had never cared about the edges to him, the way they pierced her flesh, the way the closer she leaned into him, the more her palms were singed. Her breathing grew slower as the pain eased in her shoulder, more steady, as she turned to him, as her mouth traveled across his jaw, skimming over the edges of the bone armor. “Dovev,” deeper this time, truths splitting apart there, honest spilling forth.

    In some deep part of her mind, she knew she should stop—knew she should pull back.

    But suddenly, with him there, she couldn’t.

    And so she did the only thing she could: she lost herself in the flames.

    I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
    like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

    [Image: avatar-1975.gif]
    the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity
    #9
    She melded and formed into him, as though she were made for him. The sounds she made were nearly as powerful as her touch, stirring the heat, the need. His name on her lips was low, natural and hazy. Just as effective. Dovev.. He hummed in pleasure at the sound of it, his eyes closing, but it ended in a sharp, breathy inhale as her sweet lips met his hard jaw. His heart instantly jolted, racing loudly in his chest. He hated that she felt so damn good. He loved it.

    Tender attention at her shoulder seemed to coax her magic to it, slowly healing beneath his touch as he continued methodically caring for her. That deep, darker part of him wondered: if he bit her now, could his lips persuade that to heal as well? It was tempting, enough to tighten his jaw around her skin in a sharp pinch. He ached to hear her gasp; pleasure or pain, he needed to hear it. The flesh between his teeth was so very tempting, but he eventually released it with a purposeful tug. Do you see how I want you?

    "Dovev," she answered his warning, her tone accepting, compliant. Submissive. If he continued, if they kept down this path, she would let him. She wouldn't stop them this time. Could she really want this? Did she really understand where this was going?

    Her perfect lips covered his jaw again, roamed over the lip of armor there. He gasped quietly, her touch burning him, sparking electricity along his skin and down his spine. "Dovev," she said again, lower and deeper. Needing. His body answered her without thought, hardening, aching for her.
    ..I thought- he gasped again, barely breathed, I thought I told you not to touch me. He swallowed, tried to push down the wild darkness she couldn't possibly understand, couldn't truly accept. Hide it from her, just a little longer.

    But it was there in his eyes, fever-bright and gradually taking over.

    He gripped her mane and jerked her to him, her shoulder slamming into his chest. He needed the pressure. As if he could lift her to him and pin her hard against a wall, he needed the pressure. Because that's the kind of man he was; rough, forceful, controlling. Rough. But passionate. Leliana, he growled, his heart hammering against her. His kisses found her again, hungry and spreading, lipping sweetly and nipping sharply. Something had to give, something had to stop this. But he wasn't sure he was capable of it anymore.


    #10

    I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
    no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell


    Her breaths became shallow and heady, her body light from lack of oxygen, her veins expanding into her body so that she felt weightless. Thick lashes fluttered down to cover her eyes, her body melting into his hands. She was candle wax, and she was dripping down over the edges, her body turning pliant and soft against his hard edges, melding around him—softening the knives of his body, cushioning the blow. They were such opposites, fire and water, and yet, here they were, somehow colliding in the middle together.

    She felt his gasp more than heard it, and the feeling of power was intoxicating—that sense that she was able to affect him as much as he affected she. Her head tipped back at the sound, and she drank it in, felt the sensation of it flood through her, tear through her belly, carve out canyons in her chest. At his words, she just shook her head, the crimson of her mane flying around to frame her face. “I don’t care,” her voice foggy, her eyes blurry with emotion. Her lips found the edges of his face again, and they remained there, tracing the whorls of his hair, studying the unique way the lines formed. “I don’t care, Dovev.”

    She would touch him; she needed to touch him.

    She had to.

    Protests raised in the back of her mind, feeble attempts to remind herself that this was bad, that this was a terrible decision, but they all died as quickly as they lived. She couldn’t think outside of him, outside of the heat, the scorching pain rumbling beneath the surface that drew her further and further down. When he gripped her neck and pulled her toward him, she pressed hard into his chest and gasped as her power billowed outward, her wounds sealing completely and the tangles of it sweeping through Dovev.

    “Say it,” she murmured it into his chest, her neck arched so that her mouth could rest against him, so that she could feel the unsteady pounding of his heart. “Tell me,” another demand pressed firmly into him, the words soft and hopeful. “Tell me you care about me.” She didn’t dare ask for him to say that he loved her but this—this she needed to hear. She needed to hear the lie. She needed to hear that he truly did care about her; that she wasn’t just some fancy, that she wasn’t just some foolish piece of entertainment.

    I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
    like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

    [Image: avatar-1975.gif]
    the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity




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