It Was Always You
A short fanfiction by 4AMurderofCrows
(Companion song to listen to when reading- "You've haunted Me all my Life"- by DeathCabfor Cutie)
She stood on the ramparts over looking the courtyard of his family home, the wind whipping through her unbound red curls. He is struck by how close this mimics the last time he saw her before being sent away to squire in the Free Marches. Though she is now more heavily muscled and fully blossomed, he remembers how he was struck by her beauty then. It is the same now. The breeze picking up the tendrils of her hair the glow of torchlight bathing her skin in it's light, her lips soft and pink were pulled between her teeth in distracted thought. Often as a youth on the cusp of manhood he had reached out and smoothed a thumb over her lip, admonishing her not to bite her lips in a brotherly manner to cover how he wanted to place his lips where his thumb had intruded.
"Lissa," he announced himself. Though he needn't have, she always could tell where he was. Which made her impossible to play hide and seek with when they were children.
"I'm not fit for company right now, Nathaniel," she said shakily, she made a brave attempt to keep the tears out of her voice, but, she could never hide from him either. Inevitably they'd always find each other when something was wrong. Until he'd been sent away. Then, he'd lost himself in trying to please his Uncle and by extension his Father. Shaking away the memory he stepped out of the shadows.
"Lucky for me, I'm not company then," he stated matter-of-factly. She turned from him and in a moment he was behind her, hands grasping her shoulders gently as she shook. He pulled her backwards so that her back rested against his chest, "I'm the one you could never hide from."
At that Elissa turned and buried her face into his chest, her tears soaking into his tunic, he slipped his arms around her and gathered her to him pressing a kiss into her hair. He breathed her in, cinnamon and vanilla from hanging out in the kitchens when the cooks were making pies and another scent that was only her. It was drugging and the only thing stopping him from telling her his hearts desire was the fact that she was currently crying over another man.
"Why? What did I ever do to him?" she sobbed.
"You put him on the throne, love. You would have to expect him to inspect the Arling at some point."
"But did he have to bring her here? And then he has the gall to say how much he and his Queen missed me at court!" she pulled away from him slightly to wipe her tears away angrily. "Why is he torturing me? Can't he see that walking away was hard enough?"
"I don't have any answers for you, Lissie," he said, holding her tighter, taking what little of her he could have.
"You haven't called me that since the night before you left for the Free Marches," she pulled back again, this time looking up into his dark blue eyes searching for something.
He smiled down at her, his hands resting on her hips, "Aye, I did. And you were on the ramparts then as you are now, crying over some idiot."
She laughed at him her own pain forgotten, "Was I now?"
"What was his name? Rory?" he teased, then he was surprised when she pulled out of his arms and looked at him oddly.
"I wasn't crying over Rory Gilmore, Nathaniel. Is that what you thought when you left?" disbelief written all over her face.
"I assumed, you two were always together," he shrugged.
"I-" she shook her head and an odd bitter laugh escaped her. "All this time, I thought you knew."
"Maker's breath, Lissie!" he threw up his hands in frustration. "Please do not make me guess."
"I was crying over you, you dolt!" she growled out.
"Me?" it was his turn to be surprised now. "What did I do?"
"You were leaving, just when I realized that I cared about you!" she burst out and then covered her mouth, her cheeks pinking in the torchlight at the admission.
He took a step back and looked down at the stone at his feet trying to sort out what that meant. "Did our Father's know?"
She nodded, "Father said that your Father asked you and you didn't feel the same and that you felt like I was a little sister to you, that you were leaving to be squired in the Free Marches and you felt it wouldn't be good for us to write one another. You even thought you likely wouldn't be coming back as Tomas was going to inherit Amaranthine."
"That Son-of-bitch!" Nathaniel hit the wall next to him with his fist. He relished the pain imagining it was his father's face.
"Nathaniel!" she grabbed his hand and inspected his now bloodied knuckles, "What has you so angry?"
"My Father," he growled between his teeth but let her look at his hand. He was not angry with her, never with her. "He told me that your Father refused my proposal saying I was too old for you."
"That's not true," she defended.
"I know it isn't, you said that Father wanted Tomas to inherit. I always suspected as much. I couldn't be controlled as easily as my simple brother," he calmed down enough to find her eyes on him, the ivy green of them searching his.
"You said you-" he silenced her with his lips, he moved her backward until her back was against the stone of the Keep.
She wrapped her arms around him and her lips parted, an invitation he did not refuse. He deepened the kiss, exploring her lips and mouth with his, slipping his tongue in as he pressed against her, wanting to consume her, to possess her. When they finally parted, he laid his forehead against hers gently, not wanting to part from her but needing to speak, "I've been waiting ten years for that."
She giggled at him, "What happened Nathaniel?" she asked him as she stroked the stubble on his cheek.
"I idolized my, Father," he kissed the palm of her hand when it neared his lips. "But I worshipped you. I loved you from the first time I'd laid eyes on you when were small. You've haunted me all my life."
"If he'd never sent you away?" she asked.
"Then I would have gone with your brother to Ostagar, you might have been a widow instead of a Hero," he said. "Or I would have killed Father myself for daring to try to take you from me. You can only imagine how I felt when I'd learned that my dearest love had killed the man I thought my father was. Had I but seen the truth earlier. He was nothing but poison."
"And now?" she asked.
"And now," he pulled away a bit before dropping to one knee before her, "now I do what I should have done years ago." He took his Mother's ring from the pinky finger on his left hand. "Elissa Cousland, would you consent to being my wife."
"Yes," she grinned letting him put the ring on her finger.
He slid the ring on her finger and then embraced her. "Are you sure, not still pining over his royal highness?
"No," she said, burying her head into his chest, "I couldn't marry him because he wasn't you, it was always you."
***Author's note- Thank you for reading. I haven't written or posted here for over seven years. I thought I would start small. I hope you like it. This is un-beta'd. So I apologize for the grammar.***