for Dorian (makingmyway)

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

Dark Orym AU




[The world has changed significantly in the months since the Apogee Solstice. The ceremony, the plans of Ludinus Da'leth had not gone exactly as expected. But they had, in the end, been successful enough. Predathos itself had not been fully released, not physically, but the very essence of it had been called down from Ruidus, broken out of its chains and left with only one choice of where to go.

Orym had been in the wrong place at the wrong time -- or perhaps the right -- an attempt at dislodging the obsidian-like orb that had been the Raven Queen's Champion, the Tempest's Lover. The machine had fired anyway, and for the halfling who had been caught straight in that beam, everything was pain and red.

When he woke, he hadn't been himself. Not entirely. He remembered everything, knew who he was, but he was something more now, something that hungered for so much more than Orym had ever desired. His own desires remained, though they'd been turned to near desperate obsessions. He would not lose anyone else that he loved in this absurd struggle; he would not allow it. It was that reflexive need brought on the bright and blinding flash of light that sent Bell's Hells and their allies scattering to the winds, teleported far enough away to be safe in a very broad sense of the word.

As the lights faded and the smoke cleared, as Ludinus and the rest realized what had happened, Orym had felt this new power course through him. And soon everyone came to know it. He'd killed Da'leth and Thull with little more than a glance. A swift death was more than they deserved for what they had been responsible for, what they'd done to Will and Derrig, what they'd tried to do to Laudna. From there, well, Paragon's Call and the Ruby Vanguard answered to him now. Orym, formerly of the Air Ashari, now of the Red Moon. Soon the world would answer to him, and this ridiculous play of gods and monsters would be over.

At his command, his forces have been trying to locate and bring back the rest of his friends. If he can keep them close, he can keep them safe. By now though, he knows that his friends have banded together to fight him. It stings, of course it stings, but he knows that they just don't understand. It doesn't change that he cares for them, and his people have been given strict instructions that while Bell's Hells and the Crown Keepers are to be fended off, they are not be irreparably harmed. They are dear and precious to Orym, and his anger while still quiet and subdued is lethal these days.

He misses his friends. Most nights he holds the sending stone and calls out to Dorian, just wanting to hear his voice, to know that he is safe. But there never seems to be an answer. It doesn't stop him, and most nights the words are simple. 'I hope you're okay, Dorian. I just want to hear your voice again. I miss it. I miss you.'

Today the skirmish that has broken out has been a violent one. Sometime during the fighting, Dorian seems to have been separated off, and the bard has taken a significant amount of damage. Maybe that's what has brought Orym actually out to the battlefield. He so seldom joins the fight these days, but this.

This requires his presence.

Dorian is here. Of everyone that he's wanted to see, the Air Genasi is the one who has had his heart aching the most, the feelings that he'd done so much to try to hide for Dorian's sake, no longer feeling that need to be hidden. Who else could protect him better than Orym? No one. He can give Dorian the world if he wants it, anything.

So when Orym slips in on the edges of the fray, when he sees one of his mages level a spell that sends Dorian sprawling to the ground, the halfling's voice rings out, stern and unyielding.]

Enough.

[He punctuates the words with a gesture towards the Paragon's Call member who had made the attack. A crimson hand appears and wraps itself around their throat, squeezing the life out of the solider slowly.]

You will not hurt him.

Comments

[makingmyway]

[ The past few months have been the worst of Dorian’s life.

The warnings that he’d received from Orym through the stone before the Apogee Solstice had the Crown Keepers hurrying to find a safe place to settle. A few hours after the Solstice hit, he had been surprised to find that some members of Bells Hells had somehow been transported to their location. Some catching up and some encounters with impending forces later confirmed his worst fears; Orym had been caught in the crossfire and was taken over by this god-eater, this Predathos.

Orym was alive, but Dorian feels as though he’d lost him anyway.

While dealing with those forces - those under this new Orym’s command - they were able to learn the location of the rest of Bells Hells. This time Dorian would not leave them, and the Crown Keepers joined with them to gather their missing members before heading back to Marquet. Whatever Predathos was planning to do - to Orym, to the world - they had to be the ones to stop it.

And Dorian could not - would not - let them down again.

Upon returning to Marquet, the now combined group gathered what forces and resources they could in order to stop Orym - Predathos. But the worst thing was knowing that there was a chance that it was too late to save the Orym…that he might be too far gone.

And Dorian…he couldn’t stand that. He didn’t know how, but he refused to believe that Orym was beyond saving. Not when he heard that voice over the sending stone, not when he hears the longing in his pleas. The others warned him from answering, sure that he might be trying to manipulate him. But it sounds so much like the Orym he remembers, only with the sort of yearning that he’d only hoped to hear from him, the kind that he held for the halfling all this time.

But he does his best to keep his feelings at bay, if only for the good of the others. As much as he’s desperate to get through to Orym, he isn’t about to sacrifice the safety of the others. He knows what he has to do.

Which is why, during a particularly difficult battle that ends worse for them than it does for their enemies, Dorian remains behind to give the others time to escape. Too many of them are hurt, and even though Ashton tries to stay and help for a time, they both knew that the Earth Genasi is much faster, and would get the others out of danger quicker. So it was up to Dorian to hold their enemies off while the group retreated in order to lick their wounds, gather themselves, and try again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

And he managed it for a time, but there were just too many of them that he couldn’t find a moment to break away in order to catch up with the others. He doesn’t see the other mage until the spell tears through him, and with a cry he collapses to the ground, unable to move.

But even as darkness starts to press along the edges of his vision, he hears it. Hears him. ]

O…Orym…

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[The sound of his name in that familiar voice draws his attention straight away. For a moment the grip of the spectral hand on the mage's throat loosens. His heart -- what part of it remains unconsumed by the force that's taken up residence inside him -- squeezes painfully, and his voice betrays that emotion.]

Dorian...

[He's hurt Dorian; he caused this. But those thoughts are quickly swept away with another surge of rage. No, this is exactly what he's fighting for, so that nothing like this happens again. The crimson hand tightens its grip on the mage once more, and there's a vicious snap before the caster crumples to the ground. Orym looks around at the others present.]

I've told you this before. They are not to be hurt. Do not make this mistake again. Bring me a healer. Immediately.

[He moves quickly to Dorian's side. Dropping to a knee, he sets a hand gently on his shoulder.]

It's all right. I have you. You'll be fine now, I promise.

[makingmyway]

[ If he was in better form and in a more clear state of mind, Dorian might have been a little horrified by the way Orym disposed of the mage with no remorse.

But he isn’t even thinking of that right now. Pain courses through his entire body, but seeing Orym in front of him now - seeing him really for the first time since he’d left Bells Hells - feels like something is tightly squeezing at his heart, and his eyes burn as his vision blurs.

He’d wanted to see Orym for so long, but…but not like this.

Though he’s too weak to move, he can’t help wincing at the touch of his shoulder - whether from pain or something else, though, it’s hard to say. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym either doesn't notice the flinch or ignores it, moving to oh so carefully brush some of Dorian's hair from his face, as another figure makes their way over.]

Heal him, and let him rest. He'll be coming back with us.

[The words are spoken softly as his fingers smooth over Dorian's hair. The halfling hasn't changed all that much physically. The only real difference are the scarlet streaks of lightning-like lines, not all that different from those that marked Imogen's arms, that streaked over most of his body, up one side of his face. And his eyes, that shifted between their usual green and a bright unnatural red. The red has been much more prevalent, but looking at Dorian now, that color had shifted.

Protecting Dorian is not Predathos's will, it's Orym's, even if it has wound up twisted.]

Sleep now. You'll be all right. Everything will be all right.

[Along with the healing, the caster also spares some magic to put Dorian into a deep, lasting sleep.

When Dorian wakes up, he'll find himself tucked into a large, soft bed. The blankets are drawn up over him, his head rested on featherdown pillows. Late afternoon sunlight streaks through the windows, coloring the entire room with a gold and reddish glow. He's been tended to carefully. His weapons and instrument are set over on a table, along with his boots and cloak and the outer layers of his clothing. By now any injuries have been fully healed.

And he isn't alone. Orym has taken up vigil in a seat by the window, one knee drawn up to his chest, gazing out the window as he waits for Dorian to stir once more. He looks idle, but he isn't the conversations in his head are buzzing. Reports being heard, orders being given.]

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian has to bite back a whimper, the gentle gesture of Orym brushing back his hair at such odds with what he knows of the halfling now, of the person they had been fighting all this time. It hurts in a way that’s worse than the injures across his body.

But then the healer kneels beside him, and as his injures disappear something heavy also settles over him, and he finds he can’t keep his eyes open. The darkness still takes over, and a tear slips from his eye as they fall shut.

As he sleeps, he dreams of simpler days; of a time when things had been much easier, filled with light banter and gentle songs to fill the silence. Days long since gone, when he could turn to Orym and trust to follow him wherever he goes.

Eventually his mind slowly returns to consciousness, and it takes him a moment to realize he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. As he becomes more awake, his breath hitches and he manages to sit up, trying to recall what happened.

And as he gazes around the room, his heart leaps into his throat at such a painfully familiar sight. ]

…O-Orym.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

Hey.

[Orym turns immediately at the sound of motion. Any conversations that he'd been having are abandoned for the moment, all his focus now on Dorian. There's the start of a smile on his face as he hops down from the chair to make his way closer to the bed.]


You're awake. How are you feeling?

[His voice sounds so very normal, so very much like who he has always been. It's the truth, and it's a lie. The true part of it is the concern for Dorian, the care and affection. Nothing of Predathos would change that, could change that, as long as there is any shred of Orym left.]

I'm sorry you were hurt. That was never supposed to happen.

[makingmyway]

[ He can’t stop himself from backing further up the bed as Orym approaches, even as confusion passes across his face. The words, the sound of his voice is exactly as Dorian remembers, and nothing like what he and the others had feared when they’d learned of Orym’s fate.

It has the small shred of hope that he’s held onto flaring again. Orym is in there, isn’t he? He has to be.

But he can’t…he knows he can’t lower his guard just yet. As much as he wants to, as much as he just wants to hold Orym in his arms, he can’t afford to give into those feelings now.

Because Orym is there…but so is something else.

So he steels himself as best he can, the edge in his voice dulled by a faint tremble as he speaks. ]

Your forces have been hunting us for a while.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym sees the way that Dorian recoils from him and there's a moment where he can't hide the flinch in his expression. That's not what he wants. He doesn't want his friends to be afraid of him, doesn't want Dorian of all people to be afraid of him.

He stops moving closer, even if he very much wants to.

A nod at the accusation.]

To bring you here. So I can make certain you're safe. Protected. All of you.

[He spreads his hands at his sides, and there's a glimmer of an almost painful longing there. The world needed to change, the gods needed to be destroyed, the powers of this planet rewritten, for the greater good of the whole of Exandria. But Orym will keep the people he loves safe, still wants them with him.]

I've missed you so much. All of you, but... [Quieter now.] ...especially you.

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian draws in a sharp breath. Has that really what all this has been about? They had all assumed that Predathos was hunting them to be rid of them, the last weaknesses of what was left of Orym’s humanity so that Predathos could completely take him over. But he wanted to…protect them?

Orym wants to protect them.

The knowledge stabs at his heart, especially with that last confession. He can feel his own resolve waver, but he still shakes his head, forcing himself to push on. ]

So you’re killing the gods, shuffling all this power…for our protection? You’re trying to gather us all here to keep us safe, locked away from the dangers of this world?

I’ve had that kind of “protection” before, Orym, you know I have. And you know how I feel about it.

[ A small part of him hates this, hates having to throw this in Orym’s face like this. But he has to reach the halfling somehow. ]

[makingmyway]

[ It hasn’t been too long since Dorian had been found by Orym and his forces, but already he’s starting to feel conflicted.

Normally there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for Orym, and at first he’d done everything that he could to help; pointing out the locations he and the others had set up as bases, helping to guide Paragon’s Call and the Ruby Vanguard, receiving and passing information to and from Orym and the rest of the forces. Whatever he could do, he did his best to do it.

But the more time passed, the more uncomfortable he felt with everything. He’d been relieved when, despite giving away the bases locations, the groups still had managed to evade getting caught. And some of the news he received to relay to Orym made him deeply worried about the rest of the world. Were they really doing the right thing?

What good was trying to help the people of the world if hardly anyone would survive it?

Since then Dorian had started intervening in small ways, little things he could get away with to prevent the forces from succeeding in their missions, or stalling them for as long as he’s able to. It’s a bit of a risk, especially since he knows that many of the Paragon’s Call and Ruby Vanguard members didn’t trust him; right until he’d been taken in, he’d been working with the forces against them, and even with Orym’s command that he was to be protected and given authority, they were still suspicious of him.

So he had to be careful with the ways he slowed their progress, so it couldn’t be traced back to him. But it seemed that they suspected anyway, if only because they already had reason to doubt him.

It was why, as Dorian was heading back to his own chambers one evening, he’d found himself surrounded by a group of Paragon’s Call members, demanding answers about a recent failed attempt to once again acquire the targets they’d been pursing. Dorian didn’t have an answer - not a complete one, anyway, and he was able to skirt around having to answer directly - but it wasn’t a good enough response for them.

And before he had time to react, he found himself shoved up against the wall behind him, a hand gripping the collar of his cloak. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[In many ways the Paragon's Call members who had decided to confront him don't actually care about his answer. They've already decided that he's a traitor right in their midst, actively working against their ends.

They aren't wrong.

So the shove is only a prelude, and a moment later a rather solid hit is delivered to Dorian's stomach with the hilt of a sword.]

We know you're working against us. Just because our Lord is blind to it doesn't mean we can't see.

[A kick placed to the back of the bard's knee, meant to take him down to the ground in front of them.]

And you will answer for your deceit, with blood.

[Orym is in a meeting with several of his commanders, but all at once something prickles through him, a cold sense that something is wrong, and with little more than a word of dismissal, the halfling ends the meeting and is on the move, reaching out with the tether that he has left between himself and Dorian.]

[makingmyway]

[ The blow of the sword hilt catches Dorian off guard, and he nearly doubles over, just in time for the kick to his knee to send him buckling to the ground with a sharp cry. In such a vulnerable position, he can barely defend himself as the group descends on him; even if he’s able to get a few good hits of his own, they have him completely surrounded, and it isn't difficult for them to overwhelm him.

But through it all, he somehow thinks he feels Orym’s presence - he doesn’t know if he actually does, or if it’s just his imagination, but he clings to it like a lifeline.

At this point, it might very well be. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym turns the corner in time to see the bard hit the floor, the assailants landing blow after blow, and the absolute rage that takes over the halfling is ice cold and worryingly quiet.

He moves quickly, but his newfound magic reaches the group first, an invisible blast centered on Dorian that erupts outwards and knocks the Paragon's Call members back, slamming each into the nearest wall.]

Enough.

[Orym's voice, level and quiet as he makes his way quick to Dorian, wrapping an arm around him gently, voice soft and tender as he murmurs, for Dorian's ears only You're all right. I have you now. In counterpoint to that gentle touch and tone, there's a sharpness in eyes that have lost every last shred of green to instead shine red. His gaze zeroes in on the leader of this little group. That man is dragged up by invisible hands, to his feet and then off the floor entirely.]

I thought I made it very clear that he was not to be harmed, not to be touched.

[The man he's suspending in the air can't answer. That invisible grip is choking the air off from his lungs, and the man has begun to kick and struggle, clawing at his throat, but there's no purchase to be gained and rather quickly his movements grow fitful before going still. Orym gestures briefly and the lifeless body is dropped to a heap on the ground.]

Perhaps this makes it clearer.

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian loses track of how many blows he takes, until they all suddenly seem to stop at once. He takes a breath, and even before he hears the voice he already knows what’s happened. ]

Orym…

[ He doesn’t open his eyes, though, but he feels the presence near, feels the arms that come around him and hears the voice - closer now - soothing in his ear. He can’t help leaning a bit into the familiar comfort, even as he worries about the situation now.

He has no sympathy for the Paragon’s Call members, even as he hears one struggling before falling silent. But Orym’s arrival complicates matters, because he knows that he’ll later ask why they had confronted him in the first place.

And if Orym hasn’t suspected him sabotaging things before, Dorian knows he’ll start to if they end up having to talk about it. Because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to lie well enough to cover what he’s been doing. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym leans his forehead against the top of Dorian's head.]

I'm here. It's all right.

[Still soft, still gentle, still holding him oh so carefully.

Dorian is right. Orym will ask about this. But Orym has already guessed what Dorian has been up to. He knows the other man, after all, and of everything that may have changed in Orym, his observant nature has not. If anything, it's only sharpened.

For now though, his gaze swings to look at each of the remaining Paragon's Call in turn. His voice though, that's still tender and calm and meant for Dorian.]

Do you want them dead, love?

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian releases a shaky breath, the burst of adrenaline from being attacked quickly fading and leaving him weary as he leans into Orym’s touch.

The question has him stilling a moment, though, and he finally opens his eyes to look at Orym, then past him at the group that had ambushed him. Honestly, they wouldn’t trust him regardless, but after this they wouldn’t risk attacking him again, would they?

But then, it would be easier to get around with less people suspicious of him…

Wincing at the track his thoughts are running, eventually he manages to shake his head. Whether it’d make it easier for him or not, he couldn’t in good conscience just ask Orym to kill them. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym waits for Dorian to answer. But once he sees the shake of his head, he nods his understanding. He turns to the remaining Paragon's Call, voice much harder as he speaks.]

Leave now. And remember who you owe your lives to.

[Orym waits for the remaining people to pick themselves up and scurry away before turning all his attention to Dorian.]

Can you stand? Let's get you back to our room.

[makingmyway]

[ One day during his captivity, Dorian woke to the sounds of explosions.

Orym was already gone, likely to take care of whatever the situation was. But Dorian had been surprised to find the door locked, since he had a certain degree of freedom at the base. He still had his magic, but he decided to wait for now and see what happened.

What he wasn’t expecting was for the door to suddenly burst open, with Chetney and Fearne standing there. Apparently this had been an attempt to rescue him, as well as try to slow down Orym’s - Predathos’ - operations.

And Dorian had gone with them, at first. Long enough for Bells Hells and the Crown Keepers to regroup, and he was able to pass on more information to them in order to keep Predathos from achieving his goals.

But he then surprised his friends by deciding to go back. It was difficult to explain, but he told them of what he knew about Orym’s condition - how the halfling is still there, but was struggling to keep back the god-eater. He was able to convince them that he was safe, and that this way he could not only still tap in to Predathos’ plans and try to send them more information, but he can also keep an eye on Orym, and try to keep him from slipping away entirely.

They all knew it was a risk. But if there was any way to save Orym, they had to try. So Dorian headed back to the base on his own, and was surprised when he didn’t find any of the Vanguard keeping watch.

Something was wrong… he had to find Orym, quickly. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[The base was empty. Very very empty, except for one... well. Person wasn't really the word, was it? Not anymore.

What shreds of Orym still existed had been subsumed, for the moment at least, when he realized that Dorian was gone. No, that wasn't right. Dorian had been taken away from him by people who were supposed to be his friends.

Dorian had left.

The bard would find himself aware, bit by bit, of a shadow following him in the darkness. And then a voice, still Orym's voice, but strange somehow. Wrong. And seemingly coming from all directions, or perhaps speaking directly into Dorian's mind.]

Dorian... you came back?

[makingmyway]

[ The longer he wandered the empty corridors, the tighter the coil of anxiety in his stomach twisted. He was about to call out for someone, anyone, when he feels the presence behind him, and hears the voice echoed in his mind. He freezes mid-step, his heart sinking a little when he hears the strangeness in the otherwise familiar voice. ]

O-Of course I came back, Orym. I told you, didn’t I? I’m not leaving you.

[ And he means that. No matter what happens, he isn’t leaving Orym alone in this. ]

Where are you, Orym?

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

But you did leave...

[Orym sighs, and is that a trembling in his voice? Surely not.

The shadows in front of Dorian coalesce into something darker, utterly lightless, tinged red, and then Orym steps out from the darkest part.]

You left me. You left me all alone with him.

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian’s breath catches in his throat as Orym seems to materialize from the shadows, and hesitantly he steps forward, slowly approaching the halfling. ]

I’m… I’m sorry, Orym. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know they would try to rescue me. But I came back as soon as I could.

I won’t go anywhere again, I promise.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym laughs, but there's no humor in it, no lightness or joy. It is an empty echo, and he moves closer to Dorian.]

I'm afraid it might be too late. He was alone and despairing, and he's been trying so... so hard to hold on. For you. He lost his grip, nothing left to hold onto.

[A sigh as he moved closer and rose up slowly, levitating as if it were completely normal.]

I'm not even sure he can hear you anymore. Sad little light flickering out. Will you mourn him?

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian’s eyes widen, his breath catching in his throat.

Then he isn’t talking to Orym. He’s talking to… ]

…please, let him go. There… There has to be something I can do to save him. Don’t… Don’t take him away from me.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

No?

[His eyes glow a dull, rusty red, so different than the clear green that they ought to be. He watches Dorian through the halfling's face.]

What would you give to keep him with you? What price would you pay?