Affinity
A Revolt of the Archers-based Short Story by Kal Ancalas
"She could never forsake one in favor of the other, and yet…"
Warning: If you've never read the story Revolt of the Archers before, this story will make as much sense to you as a calculus term paper (unless you know calculus(in which case, you're asinine)). Major spoilers for Revolt- do not read this if you haven't read up to the end of Chapter 13 yet.
The story takes place some time at the beginning of Chapter 8, during the scene where Tales is visiting his parents' graves.
Pairing: Implied Natalia Arundale x Traphes Igzarion. Sorry to burst all your sadomasochistic bubbles out there, but it's not incest- just fluff.
Recommended Songs:
Listen To Your Heart by DHT (non-techno version)
My December by Linkin Park
My Heart Will Go On: Titanic Soundtrack by Celine Dion
Author's Note: I am now convinced that the chapters of Revolt I spend the most effort on are the ones that get the least reviews.
I'll dash off a emowangst crack chapter about how my life sucks, throw in some half-assed review replies, finish up with a cruddy comic, and get 20+ reviews. Then I'll ignore all my homework and tests and spend 6 hours on a chapter that ends up only getting half the reviews…
Weird.
Anyway, this particular short was inspired by reading a Naruto short one day (yes, there ARE good Naruto stories that don't involve retarded NaruSasu OOC AU's or a screwed-up Naruto/HP crossover- you just haven't looked hard enough), and I wrote a story based off the concept.
Mostly, I wrote this because I haven't done a Natalia-centric DC drabble yet, but also because I wanted to show the other side of Iggy- the side that doesn't drunkenly explode into profanity and kill everything within a several-meter radius every half hour or so.
Yeah…so, it's slightly angsty, blah blah blah. Just what you'd expect from a Devil Children one-shot, and provides insight into Natalia's past life, because there wasn't enough in the actual story.
If you don't understand the sappy ending, then it's not because I suck at writing, but because you're st00pid.
Enjoy, and review. Heaven knows I need it.
-Kal
The winter is beautiful and I love you, Natalia.
Her mother always used to say that.
Precious seconds, beautiful syllables dancing upon the frigid El Nath winds, until they were blown away by a sudden icy gust. They were small moments, but they were probably the closest thing to love that Reneai Pieralasca had ever shown her only daughter.
winterisbeautifulandiloveyou
The words eventually blurred together in Natalia's mind until they had become a mantra, a thought that echoed through her mind repeatedly like a trusted friend, always there for her when no one else was. It was one of the blessedly few things that Natalia ever remembered about her mother.
Now nineteen years old, much older and wiser, Natalia Arundale has learned that the metaphorical saying wouldn't always work.
But it helps.
She shakes her head, her gentle, lightly curled locks bouncing about her shoulders despite the freezing cold. The warm caramel shade of her hair contrasts against the cold tones of the sharp winter- the hair she'd inherited from her father.
She has never seen her father, but she had once seen her mother for a precious second without the shadowed hood that covered her face, and Rene's long tresses were a shade of gallant silver- a far cry from the radiant colors that adorned her own head.
She gently brushes the hair from her face, snowflakes drifting down to take their place. They are cold, white, and sharp, exactly as they were fourteen years ago.
She remembers. She does not want to- out of all the few happy memories that she could have had, it had to be this one- but nevertheless, as the white tears of heaven leave icy streaks upon her cheeks, she remembers.
The snowflakes suddenly turn from white to a dark shade of steel, as she stares sharply at them. She closes her eyes, but the shine and the tang of the cold metal echoes in her mind, the sensation as fresh and as real as it was when she had been a child.
-----
winterisbeautifulandilove
She wraps her cloak tighter around herself, its jaded folds sheltering her from the frigid wind that blows across the fields of Henesys, but no amount of textile can shield her mind from the pain that so many years have held for her.
She tries to use her mother's words as a bastion against the cruel, mocking cold, but she would have preferred the touch of true, tangible love- the natural, pure affection that should have existed between a mother and her child.
Unfortunately, Reneai Pieralasca felt that there was no meaning in loving children who never should have existed in the first place.
The realization touches a chord in her heart as she blinkingly stares across the archery grounds of her aunt's property, the chalk-and-paint boundaries swallowed up by the gaping, frosty jaws of winter.
Did my mother ever love me? she wonders as her syrupy-brown eyes repeatedly blink to counteract the drying effect of the icy vapor in the air. Had there ever been a time when she had cared about me or Llewellyn?
She glances once at the tall, foreboding figure of Traphes Igzarion next to her, but he makes no move, staring across the frozen fields of Henesys with a glare to rival the winter's own. Natalia knows exactly what he is thinking about- he, with his own forbidden rituals surrounding the winter.
She almost feels cheap thinking about herself when he is next to her like this, but she is lost for words as his night-black hair unfurls itself in strands in the wind, as cold and unbidding as the head of the man they belong to. Not that it matters- anything that she could or should have said would have been lost to the howling wind anyway.
With no relief from her thoughts, she lapses back into uneasy rest as the flakes continue to swirl past her- past them. They are devil children, in more senses than one, even more so that Tales of Arklanser. They are demons, inhuman monsters, she with the blood of a demon and he with the heart of one.
-----
winterisbeautifulandi
She struggles with the painful truth for a moment before finally ignoring it and setting it aside in the recesses of her mind, a feeling she knows unfortunately all too well. Ironically, unlike those of her three friends, her greatest problem is herself. There is nothing she can do, short of killing herself, and then it really wouldn't matter anymore.
But for the other three, there is a hope; a faint, lingering hope, that she can save them, and they are the reason why she simply doesn't throw herself off a cliff right then and there. She will do anything for them if it means prolonging their existences upon this earth, making their lives a little bit better.
(She does not know that one of them has already fallen, silently praying in the graveyard just half a mile away.)
They are the only three that have ever cared for her, or haven't tried to kill her, at the very least. There would have been five, but one is thousands of miles away, and the other has already descended into the dark realm eternal.
Her heart tinges, not from the cold, but from the shadow of guilt that is so much icier than the snow that dances about her.
-----
The noise grew louder and louder, like the roar of a monster that was threatening to devour them all.
"Mommy, what's happening?!" she cried, as she ran to her mother, visibly shaking in fear. Her mother tersely returned the embrace before shooting an uneasy glance at her bow in the corner. "I'm scared…"
"I know…I know." Her mother gently ran a hand along her back, more to reassure herself than her quivering daughter. "Don't worry."
Her brother ran in -as calm and as ominous as ever- and shouted, "They're at the front door-"
He was interrupted by the thunderous roars of the crowd outside, their calls as cold as the blizzard that raged outside. "Harlot! Courtesan! Devil!"
Then, there was the sound of the door being broken down as the mob outside applied a battering ram, a Dragon Knight with a shout of "Buster!"
The door exploded from the hinges and flew towards her, smashing noisily into the wall several inches from her. She let out a yelp of fright as her brother snatched ahold of her hand and shouted, "Come on!"
She did not have to think twice as she obeyed, her legs slipping over the floor as her feet ran faster thanher mind could think. They heard battle roars from the rooms behind them but dared not turn back for dear life as the walls shook about them.
"In here!" her brother suddenly shouted, yanking her to a small closet and shoving her in, slamming the door behind them. They sat there, frozen with fear, surrounded by musty suits and gowns of armor as the noises of war and bloodshed reached their five-year-old ears.
"Llewellyn, what's happening?!" the girl sobbed into her brother's shoulder.
"I don't know, Natalia." her brother responded, his face barely visible in the darkness. "I really don't know."
Then, someone suddenly shouted, "They're inside there!"
What happened next occurred within the span of about a minute.
There was a roar of "Buster!", the door flying off the hinges, rending itself into splinters that assailed the wall behind them with a fiery roar. She screamed as she threw herself to the floor, shards of wood leaving bloody streaks along her face and neck. She looked up to see a pair of dark eyes, piercing through the darkness like daggers, the blade of a gigantic polearm inches from her face.
"Demon girl." she heard the voice whisper, before the cold metal of the weapon pressed against the side of her neck. She felt it cut slightly into her skin, a trickle of dark, wet blood slowly crawling down her shoulder, and she whimpered softly in pain.
"Mommy, where are you?" she wept softly, as tears and blood streaked her five year-old body, the blade of the polearm threatening to dismember her at any moment.
The edge of the lance knifed through the air, its glare reflecting once in the darkness of the closet, and she felt something collide with her, pushing her to the floor as she made contact with it painfully. The sanguine scent of fresh blood hung in the air, and yet as she looked up, she was still alive.
She then saw that the cold steel of the blade was now piercing through her brother's body, a foot of sharpened metal sticking out from his chest as hot, sticky blood gushed from his limp figure, pooling at her feet.
"Llewellyn!" she cried out, tears streaming down her face as she clutched ahold of her brother's limp wrist, streaked with ribbons of darkened crimson.
"Farewell…my beloved sister." he breathed shallowly, a cold, acerbic smile on his face as his diminutive body slid limply off the weapon like a piece of meat on a skewer, hitting the ground with an unpleasant thud.
The tears were falling openly now- there was no one to care anymore, as she cradled his corpse in her arms and waited to join her brother.
Suddenly, there was a thunderous flash of brilliant lightning and the mutilated body of the Dragon Knight slumped forward, nearly burying her in its wake. She saw the figure of her mother, silhouetted in the dying light, her bow clutched in her hand.
"Come, Natalia!" she whispered urgently, seizing her daughter's bloodied hand in her own.
"But…" She clung to dear life onto her brother. "Llewellyn…he…"
She could say no more as she felt her grip on him being torn away, and then she was stowed underneath her mother's gown, slipping and running into the fierce, heartless blizzards of El Nath.
She never did see her brother again, and she never quite knew if Rene had ever bothered to recover his body. She had returned to El Nath- once, when she was fifteen, to receive the third-job advancement from her mother- but there had been no sign that Llewellyn Arundale had ever existed from that point, aside from a tiny photograph of a four year-old boy and girl that betrayed nothing.
She does not remember if she ever thanked her mother.
-----
winterisbeautifuland
The snow blows harder about her, as if to exemplify just how alone and fragile she is in this snowstorm, the same scared, helpless girl that she had been fourteen years ago.
Unconsciously, she touches Traphes' arm, but she does not look up fast enough to see his reaction, or even to see if he has made one.
Time flew from that moment; she remembered the fierce blizzard winds, the quietness of her mother, and then the soft, calming winds of Victoria Island blowing into her face and drying her face, somewhat.
She remembered being handed over to someone, a pair of warm arms cradling her as never before, and she immediately snuggled into the beautiful embrace as she could finally experience the touch of someone who loved her, sleep closing her grateful eyes.
The next morning, she was formally introduced to Aethenea Pieralasca, her mother's elder sister, a beautiful shock of copper-colored tresses trailing all the way to the floor, shadowing her elegant gown. A great regal quiver, resplendent with large, shining bow, hung across her back like a magnificent finish to the masterpiece of a person she was.
She just didn't understand why Athena erupted into laughter when she called her "auntie".
-----
winterisbeautiful
As she grew older, Natalia came to realize that most people referred to Athena as "Master" or "Mistress", but even with that and several years of experience in mind, her lips and tongue always formed "auntie" out of a childish force of habit. Not that it really mattered; Athena had never minded in the fourteen years that she had had to raise her niece alone.
It was ironic that she thought more highly of the person chosen to be her mother than her own mother herself. Athena had been more kind and caring to her than anyone else in Henesys- perhaps because the bowmistress had never had a daughter herself. In retrospect, she had been one of the rare few who had ever shown her any kindness whatsoever to her.
Without really noticing it, her frozen fingers curl themselves tighter around Igzarion's sleeve.
-----
The sun shone high over her head as she walked out onto the beautiful hunting grounds of Henesys, her shining blue bow hung across her quiver as her delicate curls of hair bounced upon her shoulders. Her smile lit up the field as she pulled an arrow from her quiver and fit it to her bowstring, releasing the arrow with a satisfying twang. It arced gracefully through the air before piercing a snail down to the ground where it stood.
She pumped her fist in triumph before taking another arrow from her quiver and aiming once more, the sun lighting up the sky above her, as though nothing could go wrong.
She heard the rock coming before she saw it.
The projectile streaked past her, just an inch away from her face, and she whirled around to see a group of children facing her. She had seen them before- they were kids just like herself, but for some reason Athena had never let her play with them.
Something told her she was about to find out why.
"What are you doing?!" she shouted at them, her bow clutched fiercely in her hand.
"What do you care?!" one of them spat back. "Get out of here, demon girl! You don't belong in this town!"
Demon girl…how far away those words seemed now.
"What are you talking about?!" she cried, as another flung a stone that grazed her knee painfully.
"Don't play coy with us." another one hissed. "We know about your parents- everything. Your mother was a slut and your father was a demon! You're a monster!"
The rocks came again, fiercer this time, as she fell backwards and held up her arms in vain to protect herself. She could taste blood as one of the stones slammed into the side of her head. It was the same cruel reality that she thought she had left behind three years ago.
Suddenly, another stone flew through the air and she shut her eyes for impact- but the projectile had not been aimed towards her. With a loud thunk, the stone struck the ringleader of her attackers in the head.
"What-" They spun around to see a tall, dark-haired youth looking darkly at them, his eyes like daggers that made her shiver. He had several stones balanced between his fingers, ready to throw at a moment's notice.
"It's not nice to throw rocks, you know." His voice was calm and collected. "Someone might get hurt."
"Gah! What do you know?!" he shouted, rounding on him.
With the practiced air of an assassin, he calmly raised his hand and snapped his fingers, the stones hurtling through the air and striking their marks with loud thuds, bruises the size of small apples being raised upon her attackers' heads.
"Igzarion, you scum…!" he snarled, trying to get to his feet. "I'll-"
He was interrupted by Igzarion's death glare. "Get out of here before I get mad."
They needed no further urging and fled, Igzarion's dark eyes tailing them as they ran. When they were out of sight, he calmly walked over to the stunned girl and pulled her up. "Are you all right?" he asked, firmly but gently.
"I…I am now." she blinked, nonplussed. "Why did you…"
He shrugged. "It wasn't a fair fight. Four on one…" He looked away from her, as though he were ashamed of something. "You're bleeding. I'll take you home if you want-"
"No…it's fine." she said, wincing as she got to her feet. "What's your name?"
"Traphes Igzarion." he replied with a calm shrug. "What's it to you?"
"Igzarion…" Her eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! You're the son of the chief bandit?"
"Yeah." he replied, somewhat grudgingly. "And you?"
"I'm Natalia Arundale." she replied. Igzarion's mouth opened slightly in surprise before he closed it. "So you…I see."
"What?" she blinked, genuinely confused.
"It's nothing. Here…" He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and tied it around her bleeding arm. "Take care of yourself." As she looked into his eyes, she thought she could almost recognize them.
They were Llewellyn's.
"Are you all right?" he asked once more. "You seemed a little dazed for a moment…"
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Just…Thanks for all your help."
"Whatever." Igzarion shrugged as nonchalantly as he had came and turned away from her, walking into the sunset.
-----
winteris
Two months later, his family was murdered and he became her stepbrother.
In a way, it was so fitting. Both Traphes Igzarion and Llewellyn Arundale had only wanted to protect their loved ones. Both were half-demon, in a sense, and both were willing to give their life for her. One already had.
Some nights, she would almost dream that Igzarion was simply Llewellyn, returned from the gates of death to guard her once more. Of course, they couldn't have been more different from each other in physical appearance…
…but inside, she was sure they were the same person. Cynical, dark, and paranoid, but still with a heart, and even if Igzarion wasn't truly the brother she had lost fourteen years ago…
…it didn't make any difference.
They were both her brothers, and she would never forsake one in favor of the other. And yet…
She sniffles lightly, a tear drawing its way down her cheek before hitting the ground. Igzarion turns to glance at her, a momentary expression of worry on his face. "Is everything all right, Natalia?"
"Mm." She nods slightly in answer, and he turns away, a few strands of his hair fluttering into her face. "It's just that…the winter…is beautiful."
Igzarion merely grunts in reply, ever practical.
"And…"
fin.