***UPDATED 2/26/2010-- A/N: Yeah, I came back and edited it. I also added a few new lines in it and cleaned it up a lot. It needed the work. Hope you guys enjoy the re-edit.***
A little drabble about Ozzie and Gwen that I've been dying to do! It centers mainly on the sequence of events in Oswald's story arc… and him taking the first step.
Enjoy!
~*~ Hattiakourri ~*~
Beloved
She was his little blue bird, indeed.
He had seen her from afar, for the very first time, amidst the torrid heat and swirling dust of the raging battlegrounds that had once been home to a great nation. They had crossed blades in the rubble.
And when she had fallen to him in battle, and when her life had been his to take…
He had chosen not to, told her to flee.
And now, the Demon Lord's Daughter, Gwendolyn, fair in complexion and face, lay draped upon his bed, her eyes closed in slumber.
His new wife…
Could this be real?
How, in any way, could this possibly be right?
He could hardly believe Odin's all-consuming desire for Titrel… that the Demon Lord could forsake his own daughter for the sovereignty that the ring would grant him was prize enough for him to give his daughter away was somehow tragic. Perverse, even.
Odin hadn't actually struck any deal with him about Titrel. Slaying Wagner, the fierce lord of dragons, was his given quest. He had braved Wagner's titanic fury, fighting the fierce winds and blazing plumes of dragonflame in a vicious fight to the death atop the craggy, frozen peaks of the Winterhorn Ridge. Both sides sought death, the mighty lizard clamoring for his own after he slew Hindel…
Hindel.
Melvin had ordered that kill.
He was nothing but a puppet. A stolen puppet, no less.
His life had always meant nothing to anyone, but it wasn't until the slaying of Hindel that it had become apparent… the chain of events that had set in place had opened his blind eyes to the truth.
A puppet.
Needless to say, he had survived Wagner's fury, and had claimed his prize: a glinting golden ring pulled from the steaming guts of the beast. He had fulfilled his oath to the Demon Lord.
Now, it was time to fulfill a personal mission as well.
~*~
He'd had to prove his claim to her several times since he'd received her hand. First was that cowardly old wizard, and next to clash with him had been the haughty fire king, Onyx, who had supposedly been promised fair Gwendolyn's hand before him.
Ah, there it was. The need to fight for what he wanted. Suddenly, the world made sense again.
A fight had settled that. After all, did his foolhardy challenger really think he could cow him? He was, after all, "The Black Knight" for a reason. His Belderiver was a wicked weapon without equal; the cursed blade capable of slicing his enemies to ribbons also wrapped him in curtains of living shadow, transforming him into a savage wraith with ruthlessness in his blood. With the fire of his burning spirit in his eyes, and his black rage given form, he was fully capable of suffusing terror into the hearts and souls of his enemies…
Now, she was back here with him. Where she belonged.
He hoped…
This whole time, she'd been locked in an unending slumber, from which there was only one way to wake.
A kiss.
He had sworn to himself that he would not do it.
He had sought to find another way.
There was no other way.
~*~
…And so he found himself here, his hands clasping hers, seated by her side. He gazed at her nebulous hair and her porcelain skin and wondered, not for the thousandth time, how lucky he was that Fortune had seen fit to give him her hand.
Hers was the face that he would love to see every day, for the rest of his life.
…
If she so chose.
Will you love me when you wake?
Or will you flee?
…
"There's only one way to find out…"
--And with that, he pressed his lips to hers.
~fin.~
Everybody together: "AWWWW! WE LOVE YOU, OZZIE!"