![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shinonFandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Characters: Tharja/Lon'qu
Word count: ~500
Warnings: Language, general death doom despair woe, and undoubtedly some level of canon noncompliance
Notes: Why not.
“Remember that girl you couldn’t save?” she says. She feels the words dripping from her teeth like venom. “Remember how her dying scream always haunted you?” He doesn’t answer. She rakes her nails through his hair. “And how hard I worked to make you forget about her? But you wouldn’t. And you thought you were being so strong, so noble, but do you know what I thought?”
He doesn’t dare speculate.
“I thought it was disgusting. You were always pathetic, darling.” She strokes his cheek and thinks about cutting it, slicing his face apart until there’s nothing left to see. “Dead weight. A weakling. A pain in my ass.”
For a while she says nothing else, staring down into his face as something like hate coils and uncoils inside her ribcage. A part of her wants to rip him open and bite his heart, just to see what it feels like, just because he deserves it. But she keeps her voice level. “It’s a good thing you’re cute, because you have nothing else going for you. You’re so stupid. And your thing about women is insulting.” He has nothing to say to that, either. She knows she’s right. “One girl dies, so you think we all will? You think we’re all defenseless mewling kittens?” Her voice is rising. “You think if you make eye contact with a woman, that makes her your responsibility? Your problem? If a woman falls in a forest, it’s your fault for not being there?”
He remains mute. He’s not even looking at her. “You don’t protect me,” she says, and slaps him. “You don’t ever protect me” - she slaps him again - “you arrogant swine.”
Of course he doesn’t fight back. He’s been dead nearly an hour now. She would have survived, in his place. She’s tougher than him. Always was.
But he was faster.
Tharja sits with her husband’s head cradled in her lap. His is one of many corpses in this field, the only one she didn’t make. They were attacked on their way home. That blast of magic was meant for her, but this idiot, this fucking fool, rather than see her come to harm -
She shoves him roughly off of her and stands up. Her legs are shaking, her throat burns, her fingers itch with a thousand nasty deaths she could weave right here, right now, if there were anyone left to fight, if she hadn’t crushed them all the instant he stopped breathing. Someone else, then. Find someone to blame. Melt their bones, burst their eyes, seal their mouths, fill their skulls with sand, their lungs with poison -
She holds out a hand. Shadowy arms rise from the earth and embrace him. They pull him down into the ground, where we put the dead things that we loved.
He doesn’t protect her. Never had to. Shouldn’t have tried. Because now there is no one left to protect the world from her.
Characters: Tharja/Lon'qu
Word count: ~500
Warnings: Language, general death doom despair woe, and undoubtedly some level of canon noncompliance
Notes: Why not.
“Remember that girl you couldn’t save?” she says. She feels the words dripping from her teeth like venom. “Remember how her dying scream always haunted you?” He doesn’t answer. She rakes her nails through his hair. “And how hard I worked to make you forget about her? But you wouldn’t. And you thought you were being so strong, so noble, but do you know what I thought?”
He doesn’t dare speculate.
“I thought it was disgusting. You were always pathetic, darling.” She strokes his cheek and thinks about cutting it, slicing his face apart until there’s nothing left to see. “Dead weight. A weakling. A pain in my ass.”
For a while she says nothing else, staring down into his face as something like hate coils and uncoils inside her ribcage. A part of her wants to rip him open and bite his heart, just to see what it feels like, just because he deserves it. But she keeps her voice level. “It’s a good thing you’re cute, because you have nothing else going for you. You’re so stupid. And your thing about women is insulting.” He has nothing to say to that, either. She knows she’s right. “One girl dies, so you think we all will? You think we’re all defenseless mewling kittens?” Her voice is rising. “You think if you make eye contact with a woman, that makes her your responsibility? Your problem? If a woman falls in a forest, it’s your fault for not being there?”
He remains mute. He’s not even looking at her. “You don’t protect me,” she says, and slaps him. “You don’t ever protect me” - she slaps him again - “you arrogant swine.”
Of course he doesn’t fight back. He’s been dead nearly an hour now. She would have survived, in his place. She’s tougher than him. Always was.
But he was faster.
Tharja sits with her husband’s head cradled in her lap. His is one of many corpses in this field, the only one she didn’t make. They were attacked on their way home. That blast of magic was meant for her, but this idiot, this fucking fool, rather than see her come to harm -
She shoves him roughly off of her and stands up. Her legs are shaking, her throat burns, her fingers itch with a thousand nasty deaths she could weave right here, right now, if there were anyone left to fight, if she hadn’t crushed them all the instant he stopped breathing. Someone else, then. Find someone to blame. Melt their bones, burst their eyes, seal their mouths, fill their skulls with sand, their lungs with poison -
She holds out a hand. Shadowy arms rise from the earth and embrace him. They pull him down into the ground, where we put the dead things that we loved.
He doesn’t protect her. Never had to. Shouldn’t have tried. Because now there is no one left to protect the world from her.
