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Goodness can hide amongst the bad, just as evil can wrap itself in righteousness.
“I will not listen to one more person discredit me in favour of a man.”
but I have never seen a tether between two souls as sure as the one between you and that Glacian.”
It is a strange thing, to be so filled with loss and heartbreak and wrath, all for the same person.
“We are all bad and good, are we not? The fools are the ones who try to separate the two.”
And he understands now, why wars are so often won and lost upon the promise of mercy, because here is his heart, wrenched outside of himself, twisting before him in the snow, and he’d give entire kingdoms to ease the torment.
“Did you know you are the only one I’ve ever… cared for?” he confesses, stumbling over the words. “Truly cared for, I mean. Worried for. Longed for. I thought of you… endlessly.”
“Please,” he whispers to her, and it is just barely discernible above the beating of her heart. “Find a way not to hate me.”
She has a desire to flee the parts of her she does not recognise, but it is no use. She walks and walks, but everywhere she goes, there she is.
this is the part of the story where the heroes rise from the dust and renew their energies to the task ahead.”
The door, which she’d opened without announcing her arrival, had given such a loud crack against the wall that Esra shouted something that sounded like “holy mother of dick.”
“If it concerns Dawsyn, then I should know.” “Because you love her?” “Love is a trace of what I feel,” he snarls.
“You wouldn’t be attempting to lead me straight into the dragon’s lair, would you?” Ruby straightens, her water sloshing heavily. “Of course I am,” is her reply. “How else are we to slay it?”
“I can say it for you,” he tells her, uttering nothing more for a moment. “You love me,” he says, the words travelling over her mouth. “And I, you.”
“I fear I may love you,” she tells him,
He cannot name which form of her he favours, the calm or the storm. Any. All.
In my head, the romantasy lovers and I are raving in some dark dungeon with lutes and tankards and bards. The women have daggers under their skirts and the guys are wearing slutty peasant tunics and everyone is the chosen one.
Finally, to you, dear reader. I hope Dawsyn encompassed all of the anger we cannot release in public, and that Ryon epitomised the partner you deserve. I hope you got to put down all the heaviness of your day and pick up a world that feels lighter than our own. I hope you found a measure of peace there. Apologies for the ending, though. That fucking sucked. Stacey x
