Lepidopteran (
inarticulate) wrote in
tentacles2009-06-05 11:30 am
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Entry tags:
[Tales of Symphonia] Truce
Still for
karayan, for you-know-what and also for the prompt. Spoilers abound!
Title: Truce
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World
Pairing: Ratatosk/Richter, Emil/Richter, implied Aster/Richter. shhhh.
Word Count: 1149 words
Summary: Was it really fated from the beginning? Is it something we can't change?
It's an uneasy truce, at first. Ratatosk still has memories of Richter over him, axe and sword crashing down in one final blow. But, Emil reminds him quietly, we killed Aster. Ratatosk doesn't want to think about it, but he remembers being alone, now, being friendless in the world of humans and half-elves, being hated. And he thinks he understands, a little, why Richter would be so upset.
In the beginning, he tries to ignore Richter, and Richter tries to ignore him. He converses with Tenebrae, quietly, about the mana flow and ignores the other presence at the other end of the Ginnungagap. The problem comes when Richter needs to sleep, because mortals do, and Ratatosk suddenly becomes privy to the restless sounds of a man who has not slept without nightmares for two years. And the problem comes when Ratatosk feels Emil's pity and sorrow and regret so strongly that he can't ignore Richter anymore.
"Hey," he says, nudging Richter with his boot. "Wake up."
Richter opens his eyes and stares up at him. There's nothing in that stare, no gratefulness, and he sits up and moves further away, drawing his axe and leaning over it.
"Hey," Ratatosk says again, and, this time, he can feel something in his chest. He recognizes it, of course, as the same pain that Emil felt. "Don't ignore me."
Richter glances at him, briefly, but Ratatosk can't tell if he's glaring or not. He probably is-- he usually is. Ratatosk scowls. "What did you need to tell me?" he asks. Even with Emil's memories and feelings, Ratatosk can't decypher the tone. This is why he hates mortals. Except Marta; she wasn't easy to understand, but at least she talked to him.
"Forget it," Ratatosk mutters, glancing back towards the sealed entrance to the Ginnungagap. When he looks back, Richter is looking at him, really looking at him this time. Ratatosk looks away; he feels hot, which is strange, because he wasn't sensitive to temperature even back when he was pretending to be mortal.
"Why do you still wear Aster's form?" Richter asks finally.
Ratatosk scowls. "What, you would rather me go back to my form? The one who killed your precious Aster?"
"Better that than his murderer wearing his body." Richter glares back, sheathing his axe and putting away the stone he was using on it. "If you and Emil are one, now, you should understand that."
At that, Emil's feelings rise up like a hurricane, battering Ratatosk around. He's not going to voice any of it, he's not, because how could he possibly admit when Emil couldn't that he likes the way Richter can't look away from him sometimes, the longing in Richter's face, because Emil could pretend it was him, could believe it was him, and--
Ratatosk shakes his head. "I don't have the resources to return to my body right now," he says instead. "You wouldn't be able to work with me in that form anyway."
Richter doesn't respond, so Ratatosk sneaks a glance to find him staring off into the distance. "I could," Richter says eventually, though he's still not looking at Ratatosk and his expression is still far away. "You don't plan on destroying them anymore." Them, Ratatosk notes. Richter hasn't been one of them for years. Or ever, Emil whispers. "I need to work with you no matter what form you wear."
"That's right, you do," says Ratatosk. Then, because the storm of emotion is rising again, he asks, "Is it really that bad?"
He's cursing his weakness even as he says it. He's Ratatosk, lord of the Ginnungagap, surrounded by his Centurions, and he doesn't need to ask a mortal for approval. But it makes Richter look over at him, really look, his expression not sad or angry or… those are the only two expressions Ratatosk has ever seen, though he remembers that Emil saw far more.
Richter pushes up his glasses and says, "Eventually, you'll have the power to shift back."
"Yes," Ratatosk agrees, warily, because he still doesn't want to. Richter doesn't press the point, and Ratatosk ends up watching as Richter stands and draws his weapons to fight with an invisible opponent. "Do you want a partner?" Ratatosk asks finally, as Richter turns towards him.
Richter gives a curt nod without hesitating, and Ratatosk feels the reckless desire surge up through him. This, at least, is a familiar kind of lust. His sword crashes against Richter's blades and Ratatosk grins, wide and fierce. Richter's attacks are a good match for them, with his mana aflame, though he's weakened by the lack of demonic power. Ratatosk pulls his strikes, doesn't even attempt to use any of his fatal attacks, and, when Richter holds out his weapons in surrender, Ratatosk has utterly lost control of his impulses-- of Emil's impulses-- and leans forward to kiss him.
It's an awkward, fumbling, kiss, though Ratatosk manages to swipe his tongue over Richter's lower lip and taste sweat before he stumbles. Richter is looking down, wide-eyed. "Ratatosk?"
Ratatosk is hot and flushed and suddenly very, very angry. "What, you don't like it? Not good enough--" he cuts himself off, not by choice, but because he's suddenly found that his tongue is in the way, and he's biting it.
Richter sheathes his weapons, which is probably a good sign, and glances over at the gate. Ratatosk follows his gaze, but there are no Centurions visible. Tenebrae is probably watching anyway. "Ratatosk," Richter says again. "You--"
"Emil," Ratatosk says. It's important that Richter understand this distinction. "Emil… cares for you. That's all." He looks away. "I lost control of his impulses."
Except Emil has never had the urge to push Richter down and fuck him while he was still struggling, but Ratatosk doesn't mention that. It's still probably a fluke caused by their merging.
"Emil… was you." Richter doesn't sound angry or even stunned anymore; he sounds clinical, like a scientist, actually, like that man who stepped into Ratatosk's lair two years ago to beg him for the mana control the world so desperately needed. Ratatosk remembers Aster, then, a slight blond who stepped forward and presented his demands-- fairly, Emil whispers, but I wouldn't listen-- remembers Richter's expression at Aster's death-- and stops.
"We've merged." Ratatosk folds his arms over his chest.
Richter is the one who looks away this time. "I see," is all he says. But he's not angry, and he's not trying to kill Ratatosk, and Ratatosk suddenly thinks, I have one thousand years with him. Neither of them are happy right now, but Richter-- deserves to be happy-- and maybe, just maybe, something can come out of this.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Truce
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World
Pairing: Ratatosk/Richter, Emil/Richter, implied Aster/Richter. shhhh.
Word Count: 1149 words
Summary: Was it really fated from the beginning? Is it something we can't change?
It's an uneasy truce, at first. Ratatosk still has memories of Richter over him, axe and sword crashing down in one final blow. But, Emil reminds him quietly, we killed Aster. Ratatosk doesn't want to think about it, but he remembers being alone, now, being friendless in the world of humans and half-elves, being hated. And he thinks he understands, a little, why Richter would be so upset.
In the beginning, he tries to ignore Richter, and Richter tries to ignore him. He converses with Tenebrae, quietly, about the mana flow and ignores the other presence at the other end of the Ginnungagap. The problem comes when Richter needs to sleep, because mortals do, and Ratatosk suddenly becomes privy to the restless sounds of a man who has not slept without nightmares for two years. And the problem comes when Ratatosk feels Emil's pity and sorrow and regret so strongly that he can't ignore Richter anymore.
"Hey," he says, nudging Richter with his boot. "Wake up."
Richter opens his eyes and stares up at him. There's nothing in that stare, no gratefulness, and he sits up and moves further away, drawing his axe and leaning over it.
"Hey," Ratatosk says again, and, this time, he can feel something in his chest. He recognizes it, of course, as the same pain that Emil felt. "Don't ignore me."
Richter glances at him, briefly, but Ratatosk can't tell if he's glaring or not. He probably is-- he usually is. Ratatosk scowls. "What did you need to tell me?" he asks. Even with Emil's memories and feelings, Ratatosk can't decypher the tone. This is why he hates mortals. Except Marta; she wasn't easy to understand, but at least she talked to him.
"Forget it," Ratatosk mutters, glancing back towards the sealed entrance to the Ginnungagap. When he looks back, Richter is looking at him, really looking at him this time. Ratatosk looks away; he feels hot, which is strange, because he wasn't sensitive to temperature even back when he was pretending to be mortal.
"Why do you still wear Aster's form?" Richter asks finally.
Ratatosk scowls. "What, you would rather me go back to my form? The one who killed your precious Aster?"
"Better that than his murderer wearing his body." Richter glares back, sheathing his axe and putting away the stone he was using on it. "If you and Emil are one, now, you should understand that."
At that, Emil's feelings rise up like a hurricane, battering Ratatosk around. He's not going to voice any of it, he's not, because how could he possibly admit when Emil couldn't that he likes the way Richter can't look away from him sometimes, the longing in Richter's face, because Emil could pretend it was him, could believe it was him, and--
Ratatosk shakes his head. "I don't have the resources to return to my body right now," he says instead. "You wouldn't be able to work with me in that form anyway."
Richter doesn't respond, so Ratatosk sneaks a glance to find him staring off into the distance. "I could," Richter says eventually, though he's still not looking at Ratatosk and his expression is still far away. "You don't plan on destroying them anymore." Them, Ratatosk notes. Richter hasn't been one of them for years. Or ever, Emil whispers. "I need to work with you no matter what form you wear."
"That's right, you do," says Ratatosk. Then, because the storm of emotion is rising again, he asks, "Is it really that bad?"
He's cursing his weakness even as he says it. He's Ratatosk, lord of the Ginnungagap, surrounded by his Centurions, and he doesn't need to ask a mortal for approval. But it makes Richter look over at him, really look, his expression not sad or angry or… those are the only two expressions Ratatosk has ever seen, though he remembers that Emil saw far more.
Richter pushes up his glasses and says, "Eventually, you'll have the power to shift back."
"Yes," Ratatosk agrees, warily, because he still doesn't want to. Richter doesn't press the point, and Ratatosk ends up watching as Richter stands and draws his weapons to fight with an invisible opponent. "Do you want a partner?" Ratatosk asks finally, as Richter turns towards him.
Richter gives a curt nod without hesitating, and Ratatosk feels the reckless desire surge up through him. This, at least, is a familiar kind of lust. His sword crashes against Richter's blades and Ratatosk grins, wide and fierce. Richter's attacks are a good match for them, with his mana aflame, though he's weakened by the lack of demonic power. Ratatosk pulls his strikes, doesn't even attempt to use any of his fatal attacks, and, when Richter holds out his weapons in surrender, Ratatosk has utterly lost control of his impulses-- of Emil's impulses-- and leans forward to kiss him.
It's an awkward, fumbling, kiss, though Ratatosk manages to swipe his tongue over Richter's lower lip and taste sweat before he stumbles. Richter is looking down, wide-eyed. "Ratatosk?"
Ratatosk is hot and flushed and suddenly very, very angry. "What, you don't like it? Not good enough--" he cuts himself off, not by choice, but because he's suddenly found that his tongue is in the way, and he's biting it.
Richter sheathes his weapons, which is probably a good sign, and glances over at the gate. Ratatosk follows his gaze, but there are no Centurions visible. Tenebrae is probably watching anyway. "Ratatosk," Richter says again. "You--"
"Emil," Ratatosk says. It's important that Richter understand this distinction. "Emil… cares for you. That's all." He looks away. "I lost control of his impulses."
Except Emil has never had the urge to push Richter down and fuck him while he was still struggling, but Ratatosk doesn't mention that. It's still probably a fluke caused by their merging.
"Emil… was you." Richter doesn't sound angry or even stunned anymore; he sounds clinical, like a scientist, actually, like that man who stepped into Ratatosk's lair two years ago to beg him for the mana control the world so desperately needed. Ratatosk remembers Aster, then, a slight blond who stepped forward and presented his demands-- fairly, Emil whispers, but I wouldn't listen-- remembers Richter's expression at Aster's death-- and stops.
"We've merged." Ratatosk folds his arms over his chest.
Richter is the one who looks away this time. "I see," is all he says. But he's not angry, and he's not trying to kill Ratatosk, and Ratatosk suddenly thinks, I have one thousand years with him. Neither of them are happy right now, but Richter-- deserves to be happy-- and maybe, just maybe, something can come out of this.