formmusebox | for Dorian (makingmyway)

for Dorian (makingmyway)

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.

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[ Dorian breathes a relieved sigh, the lingering uncertainty fading from his chest as those fingers comb through his hair. He holds Orym closer, nuzzling into him and feeling completely at ease.

Like he’s right where he belongs. ]

Mm…yes. Only yours.

[Orym smiles at the words, and inside him, so close to the surface, that other essence feels a darker coil of pleasure at that. Yes, good. His and only his. Perhaps it is evidence of just how intertwined the halfling and the god-eater are becoming.

For the moment though, the darkness stays submerged and Orym tightens his arms around Dorian for a long moment.]

I've missed you so much. Let me stay with you tonight?

[ Dorian can’t help a faint chuckle as he draws back a little to meet Orym’s eyes. ]

Of course. I’ve really missed you too. It’ll almost be like old times, huh?

[ Though without Fearne it’s still not quite the same, and the thought does squeeze his heart a little. ]

Almost.

[Orym smiles again, reassuringly.]

You'll see the others soon, I promise.

[Because Orym will see them brought to him, no matter what resistance they put up. He is not going to take chances of losing them. Besides, Liliana wants to see her daughter, and he can't deny her that. She's been so instrumental in bringing him to this place.

Those thoughts could wait though. Now, now is for Dorian. For making up for lost time and for firsts.]

Kiss me? [It's phrased as a request, but there's certainly something running deeper in his tone that has become used to not being denied.]

[ Dorian smiles, even as the promise settles uncomfortably in his stomach, like it’s…wrong, somehow.

But he doesn’t have much time to think about that as Orym’s request quickly distracts him, and he can’t help blushing a little. Despite being nervous, though, he nods. ]

O-Oh…! Um, yes…okay.

[ Taking a breath, he shifts a bit closer, meeting Orym’s eyes for a moment before he slowly leans in, letting his lips brush against the other man’s, slow and hesitant at first. ]

[The blush is endearing -- and Orym is pleased to see it, really, evidence that Dorian's misgivings have subsided. With a little help, of course, but what's a small bit of magic just to set this beautiful man at ease.

He smiles, trying not to let his breath catch at just that soft, tentative touch of lips. But he has been waiting for this moment.]

That's perfect... [He purrs to him before Orym initiates the next kiss, less hesitant. This is his.]

[ Dorian’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest as he kisses Orym, gentle and slow. This is all he’s wanted to do for so long, but he worries that it won’t meet Orym’s expectations.

So he can’t help visibly relaxing when Orym speaks, and he feels the praise against his lips. He doesn’t have a chance to respond, though, when Orym kisses him again, and his own breath catches at the intensity of it, so different than his own. He can’t help melting a little against the other man with a soft sound, leaning more into the kiss. ]

[Orym winds an arm around Dorian's shoulders, fingers sinking into Dorian's hair and gripping tightly. He lingers against Dorian's lips, tilting his head just slightly to better align their mouths, catching the other man's lower lip between his own, a brief scrape of his teeth.

There's a possessiveness in him, almost desperate. He will keep Dorian safe and protected and with him.]

[ He shivers a little as he feels that arm come around him, at those fingers in his hair, the way they seem to fit together so well. Wrapping his arms around Orym’s slim waist, he pulls him closer, holding the halfling flush against him to deepen the kiss.

But Orym nipping his lip surprises him a bit, and his lips part as he gasps softly. ]

[They fit together perfectly. Orym thinks they have waited far too long for this, considering they never had the chance for it at all. But they'll have more time now. Forever.

Those parted lips are too good an opportunity to pass up, so he lets his tongue dip past them, slow and deliberate.]

[ A soft moan rises from his throat, muffled between them as Orym’s tongue finds his own. The overwhelming taste and scent of Orym sends a rush of heat pulsing through his body, pooling dangerously into his core, and he holds the other man even tighter against him in his own desperation. ]

[The desperation in that hold is not something Orym could possibly fail to notice. It's everything that he's wanted, everything that he's felt, and with the way that so much of his own hangups and inhibitions obliterated by Predathos crashing through him and settling inside him, well, he's perfectly eager to chase that up, to lean into it.

He breaks from Dorian's mouth just enough to speak, words shaped to the other man's lips so the words can be felt as much as heard.]

Do you want me, Dorian?

[ He chases after Orym's lift when the kiss breaks, until he almost tastes the words that he speaks more than he hears him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nods. ]

Y-Yes...I want you, Orym...please...

[For as many lovely songs as Orym has heard Dorian sing, those words are by far the most beautiful music that he could imagine in this moment, especially that please.]

I want you too.

[His hands settle at either side of Dorian's face, holding gently.]

Let me take care of you tonight? I'll make you feel better than you've ever felt before.

[ As his gaze is lifted to meet Orym's eyes, a shiver runs down his body at his words, his heart skipping in his chest. Licking his lips a little, he nods. ]

O-Okay...I trust you, Orym.

[ That much has always been true, even if the touch of magic might affect how much now. ]

[IN the deepest part of Orym that is still ORym, there's a stab of guilt that tears through him at that. Trust him. And here he is, his magic fogging through Dorian's mind to brush aside his fears and misgivings, to soothe aside that fear that has been allowed to grow.

But he can't live with Dorian looking at him in fear. He can't. He won't.

Another kiss, sweet and soft, and his hands drop to start easing Dorian out of what remains of his clothing after those outer layers had been shed before the unconscious bard had been tucked into bed.]

Good. I trust you too, Dorian. That's why I need you by my side.

[ Dorian doesn't recognize the magic clouding his mind, because trusting Orym, being with Orym just feels so natural. He leans into the kiss, hungry for the feeling and taste of the halfling that he's thought about for so long. He shivers a little as those hands gently start to tug his clothing off, and he does what he can to help remove them as best as he can while still kneeling on the floor in front of Orym. ]

I'm here, Orym. As long as you have me.

[ Even if he isn't aware of how dangerous a promise like that can be. ]

Always.

[Orym assures him, and there's no doubt in his voice about it. He will break this world and remake it, create it for Dorian and for him. His fingers trace over newly bared skin, soft and warm.]

But I think I'd rather have you on the bed... [He teases gently, a flicker of a smile, very much what would be expected of Orym.]

[ Dorian shivers a little at the brush of calloused fingers across his skin, even as he chuckles softly. More than anything, it's the smile that soothes some of his lingering nerves, and with a nod he briefly catches Orym's lips again before moving to settle on the bed and waiting for Orym to join him. ]

[Orym waits, watching as Dorian moves to the bed before climbing on after him, moving within reach so he can go back to starting to ease the bard out of his clothes.]

You're so beautiful. The first time I saw you... took my breath away.

[As he eases the shirt from his shoulder, he presses a kiss there gently.]

And then I got to know you, and I realized how beautiful your heart was...

[The words are true, even if it's impossible to know if Orym is the only one speaking them.]

[ His heart skips as Orym comes close, and he shivers even as he lifts his arms to let him pull his shirt up and off over his head. ]

I felt the same…ever since we first met. But I didn’t think you’d felt the same, since…

[ Since they’d gone to find his late-husband’s murderers. ]

[Orym nods a little in understanding.]

I know.

[He does. He roped Dorian in to tracking down Will's murderers, because he'd come to trust the bard and Fearne like no one else he'd met since that terrible day.]

I felt like I was too damaged to say anything.

[A broken thing shattered by that tragedy. Dorian deserved better, than a heart that had been shattered and put back together with string and vines.]

I'm not broken any more. [Not with this entity inside him. There was no room any longer for grief or broken hearts. He would fix this world the same way that he had been fixed.

He eases that shirt up and off, letting it slip off the side of the bed, hand settling against Dorian's heart.]

[ Another shiver runs down his back, but he can’t help a frown at those words. He places his hand over Orym’s, pressing it against his chest so he would be able to feel his racing heart. ]

You were never too damaged or broken, Orym. You’ve always been the strongest person I’ve ever known.

[ And he had never needed some god-eater for that. ]

[There's an aching moment where Orym feels clearer minded than he has since Predathos crashed into him. He can feel Dorian's heart beating, and it makes his own falter. He loves him and has loved him and will love him, whatever may come.]

Dorian...

[It's all he can manage for a moment, just his name voice near to breaking on the syllables.]

[ Dorian smiles softly, a bit sadly, as his free hand gently catches Orym’s chin to tilt his head up, brushing his lips over Orym’s tenderly. ]

You’ve always been so strong, Orym. It’s one of the reasons I admired you, and why I was always willing to follow you, to the ends of the world.

But I never…I never realized how much pressure that put on you. How difficult it must be to feel like you have to be strong all the time, to feel like you have to take care of everyone else. How lonely it must be…and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that.

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