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

[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]

[ He hears the remaining members disperse, but can only focus on Orym. The question gets a small nod, though he does have to lean against the wall in order to get to his feet.

And, avoiding the still body of the Paragon Call member still lying on the ground, he slowly drags himself back to the room they share with Orym’s help. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

Easy...

[Orym murmured softly, and Dorian would find himself supported by those unseen magical touches as the halfling guided the bard back to their room. The fury in him has not dissipated, but it has been set aside for the moment. Dorian deserves none of his anger, and Orym will save it for those who do.

He opens the door and urges Dorian to the bed. He moves to the chest at the foot of the bed, drawing free a glass vial, filled with red liquid. Health potions seem wise things to keep around, since healing has not been part of the magic that Predathos has given him.]

Here. Drink this? It will help.

[And then, well, then they can talk.]

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian can’t help a small shiver at the help of those invisible hands, the memory of their touch bringing to mind a different sensation. But those thoughts are for another time, as they continue heading back to their room.

Once they finally arrive, he takes a heavy seat onto the bed, wincing as he clutches a hand to his side where it feels particularly sore. When Orym hands him the vial of red liquid, he can’t help hesitating for just a moment before taking it and downing its contents, feeling the potion ease the aches and injuries he’d just received. ]

Thanks.

[ He doesn’t quite meet Orym’s eyes, though, because he has a feeling about what’s coming next. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Dorian taking the potion seems to ease something in Orym, but he still hops up on the bed to catch the other man's chin gently between his fingers to urge Dorian to look at him. His eyes roam over his face, as if trying to assess if enough of the pain is gone or if he needs to find a healer to tend to him.]

Feel better?

[His other hand smooths through Dorian's hair.]

What happened, Dorian?

[makingmyway]

[ He can’t resist as Orym gently lifts his face, and he finally meets his gaze. He eventually manages a faint smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. ]

Yes, I’m all right now.

[ And it’s true, at least physically. Even if his stomach is doing flips as he tries to come up with some kind of explanation.

He can at least hide some of the turbulent emotions as he closes his eyes, those fingers combing through his hair easing some of the tension on his face. But the question earns a small shrug. ]

Well…no one around here really trusts me yet.

[ Which is also technically true. Even if he hasn’t given them any reason to. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

No, I suppose they don't.

[Orym concedes quietly, fingers still soothing through Dorian's hair since it seems to be relaxing him at least a little. He knows that the other man is still tense though, can tell that Dorian is holding back as well. The answer was a careful one.]

But they have good reason for that, don't they?

[There's no venom in Orym's voice, tone still gentle and soft.]

[makingmyway]

[ Even with his eyes closed, even with those fingers in his hair, he can’t help wincing reflexively at the words, that and the ensuing silence more revealing than anything he could think of to say.

And despite how Orym’s tone remains gentle, he can’t help feeling suddenly a little afraid of how he would react. He doesn’t worry that he would do anything at all similar to what he’d done to the Paragon’s Call members. But would Orym care for him any less if he felt that he wasn’t being useful?

Somehow that thought is much more painful than any kind of physical blow that he might take. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym feels as much as sees that wince. The silence is indeed telling, but it's not really revealing anything that the halfling isn't already aware of -- or at least guessing at. He knows Dorian, after all. He knows the misgivings that his magic has softened, knows that eased as they may be they are still there.

He leans in and presses a kiss to Dorian's temple.]

I know you've been working against me, Dorian.

[He sighs softly and rests his forehead against Dorian's hair.]

[makingmyway]

[ He shivers a little at the kiss, even as he stiffens at Orym’s words. Finally he opens his eyes again, an expression of worry on his face as he glances up at him. ]

It’s just…none of this feels right, Orym.

[ He doesn’t apologize, because deep down he isn’t sorry. But he can’t help still feeling just a bit anxious about what would happen now. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

I know.

[Orym leans back enough to look at him, quiet for a moment as his eyes roam over Dorian's face. Somewhere, what part of Orym is left that is untwisted, untainted by the entity that has taken him over, wants to plead with Dorian to end this, to end him. He can't be worth this.

But the greater part of him, well, that part is convinced still of his decisions, of what he is doing to reshape this world.

He brushes the back of his knuckles along Dorian's cheek.]

You wouldn't be you if you didn't feel that, would you? [Another sigh.] I know you, Dorian Storm. I love you.

[Even this stubbornly resistant part of him.]

Do you want to leave me?

[makingmyway]

[ He watches Orym quietly, wondering what he’s thinking at the moment. There was a time when he could so easily tell, or at least could make a pretty good guess, what was on the halfling’s mind. But it’s been much more difficult to read him these days.

And he misses those days, when he felt like he knew who Orym was.

Even so, he can’t help leaning into Orym’s touch, and the question has him shaking his head. ]

No…I couldn’t leave you, Orym. I love you too much.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[There is a visible wave of relief that rushes through Orym at that, an easing of a tension in him. He's not entirely certain he could let Dorian go. He wants to believe that he could, but he wonders if he's fooling himself.]

I love you too. I need you with me.

[His touch lingers, eyes roaming over his face.]

It's okay if you if you try to stop me. I am going to make sure no one dares touch you again.

[A flash of red in his eyes, there and gone like perhaps it was just a trick of the light.]

And I'm going to do everything I can to make you see that what I'm doing is really for the best.

[makingmyway]

[ He does see that, at least, the way tension seems to melt from his face. Slowly he reaches up, gently stroking Orym’s brow in hopes to soothe him more

He isn’t sure what to really say about that, though. He certainly won’t stop trying to throw wrenches into Orym’s plans, but even if Paragon’s Call and the Ruby Vanguard don’t physically harm him, it doesn’t mean there aren’t other things they won’t do to him. But that’s something he’ll have to worry about in the future.

Instead he can’t help a deep frown, wondering if he was seeing things, like the slight flash of Orym’s eyes. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, though, as Orym’s words once again fill him with doubt. ]

How can you be so sure? With so many people getting hurt…with all that suffering. Is this really the best way?

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym is far too weak to that touch, and his eyes drop mostly shut. He can accept Dorian actively working against him and his goals, even if it hurts, and even if it unsettles the part of him that is fully within Predathos' grasp.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't let the magic that tethers them together pulse slightly, growing stronger in the assurance that everything is fine, everything will be exactly as it should.]

People were suffering before, getting hurt before. Look what happened with Opal. Do you think Lolth was going to be content allowing her to live her life? She was going to take everything from her, and she wouldn't stop there. None of them would. They treated this world as their playground, used mortals as toys and fuel.

[makingmyway]

[ He continues to soothe his fingers over Orym’s brow, before trailing down to caress his cheek. The gentle touch of that magic wraps itself around his mind, but a part of him manages to resist, at least for the moment. ]

Maybe…but you’d received a blessing from the Wildmother yourself, hadn’t you? And Fy’ra and Dariax both have connections to gods as well. Gods who are looking out for them…for us.

And even if it’s true that the gods see us as little more than fuel for them, is more suffering really going to fix all that? How many people will have to die for this?

[ He hesitates a moment, because he knows his next words are pretty low. But it’s still something he has to point out. ]

Isn’t all this…what Will had died for? Because of these plans that others were trying to set in motion? Was that really worth it?

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

She gave me a tool to fight against something she feared. An encouragement to throw myself in the way of Da'leth and his plans. All of us were allowed to do that. Where were the gods if they wanted to stop this? Why didn't they act?

[He visible flinches at the mention of Will, and the overwhelming grief tries to surface in him. Tears rise in his eyes, the reminder of how badly he'd failed that day to protect the ones he loved. He would never fail that way again. That was what this was about.]

That was Thull's doing. Da'leth's doing. They've paid for their mistakes. What I'm doing... I am not seeking to hurt anyone, to kill anyone. We fight against those who oppose us and only those forces.

[And then quieter.]

And for a world where I... where no one has to lose anyone that way ever again.

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian frowns, but it’s hard for him to argue much about that. He hasn’t been there when Orym received the blessing on his sword, had missed so much of their adventures until just a few months ago. This is so much out of his depth.

But the way Fearne had described it…it hadn’t sounded like that. It just sounded like the Wildmother had given him a gift. And Fy’ra Rai and Dariax’s connections to the Wildmother and the Observer didn’t seem to have had anything to do with Da’leth, or any of this.

And Dorian can’t be entirely sure, since he doesn’t have much stake in the gods himself. But if the gods had decided to actually do something against Ludinus to prevent all this…wouldn’t that just have given his influence more credence? Wouldn’t it have just made a martyr out of him, and people even more likely to try and enact his plans?

But he holds his tongue, not feeling confident enough to voice these thoughts. Instead he reaches up his other hand to cradle Orym’s face, his thumbs brushing the tears from his eyes before they can fall. ]

He died because this is what Thull and Da’leth were trying to do, trying to free Predathos. It all led to this.

[ He hates this, hates having to remind Orym of that day when he lost so much. But he has to try to make him see what he’s doing. ]

And you’re not actively trying to hurt or kill anyone…but people are getting hurt. People are dying, suffering. Even as careful as you are, that can’t be helped with something like this.

But families are still being torn apart, Orym. And it’s not fair to them, any more than it was fair to you.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

And they won. Everything we did, everything we tried, everything we lost and they still won.

[Orym's eyes shine with the gathering tears, and they fall, and keep falling. For the moment there's no hint of the other in his gaze, eyes clear and green and so full of sorrow it looks like the halfling might just drown in it.]

Predathos is free. [Free and pulsing through his veins, wrapped around his mind, roots sunk deep into every last inch of him.]

What would you have me do, Dorian? This shouldn't be our war, shouldn't be anyone's war, but it is. It isn't fair. None of it is fair. But I will end it as swiftly as I can. And once it's over, a new world can begin.

[makingmyway]

[ Something clutches his heart tightly, the sight of Orym in so much pain making him regret having said anything. Still brushing the tears away with thumbs, he presses a gentle kiss to Orym’s forehead. ]

Not entirely. We haven’t completely lost just yet.

[ The fact that Orym is still there at all is proof of that. They still have a chance to end this without anyone else getting hurt. There’s still some hope there.

He just needs time to figure out how to separate Predathos from Orym, so they can try to lock the god-eater away again.

But how can he do that on his own, surrounded by people who want to free him while he’s inhabiting Orym’s body?

For the first in a long while, he does feel truly alone. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym's eyes fall shut at the touch of those lips to his forehead. And maybe there is some hopeful piece of this, that he can still weep over Will, over Derrig, can still feel the pain of those losses. He can still feel the comfort of Dorian's presence, of his touch, that ever-present nagging fear of losing him.]

We haven't?

[And maybe there's a flicker of hope there, what remains of Orym crying out for there to be something that can be done.]