Little ficlet for Owlmoose's Dragon Age Kiss Battle on Dreamwidth. Prompt was Eleanor/Bryce, "She's gone."
"And where is your pretty young daughter?" Howe's voice is the hiss of a snake, but Eleanor will not flinch. She lifts her chin.
"She's gone," Eleanor says. Howe is too close for her bow, so she drops it and draws a thin dagger instead. "And you'll not catch her."
Howe laughs low in his throat. "And who will stop me? Bryce? You?" His soldiers circle around her, and Eleanor glances back at Bryce. He is halfway to the Fade, his skin pale and his body limp. Her own arms are weak from fighting, though she tries not to let it show. Howe smiles. "I'll offer you this: kiss my boot and swear fealty to me, and I may show some mercy to your family."
Eleanor can barely stand to look at him. She had counted Howe as a friend, perhaps a bit obsequious but loyal. The extent of her mistake makes her stomach turn. She looks down at his faded black boot, then kneels to kiss Bryce instead.
He rouses enough to meet her kiss, and his lips are still as needful as when they first met. Their life together has not always been easy, but she has never doubted her love for him, or her children. Howe does not understand what this means. Eleanor looks to her husband and he meets her eyes.
He's too weak to speak, but Eleanor knows him well enough to know what he'd say. She stands and charges at Howe, blade outstretched.
"I'll die first!" she snarls, and she does, but her death is not without honor.