Fate's Games
Would Have…
She had come upon him in a wide field, wind blowing the tall grasses; a sea of gold… A sea of gold yet it paled in comparison to his eyes. What was he doing here? Why was he so far from any civilization? There were no roads, no towns, nothing. "Young man, why are you here?" she asked, quietly approaching him.
He turned to face her as if just coming out of some secret dream. He summed her silently up then declared, "If you are not here to grant me a good death, then you can leave."
"A good death?" she questioned, taken aback by the question, stomach dropping.
"Yes. Were I to simply lie down and die, it would not please Malacath," he declared.
"Why do you want to die?" she wondered immediately, eyes filling with such concern it made him inwardly shiver.
After a moment he answered, "My time has come. I am old. Too old to become chief. It would be wrong of me to take wives at this age. So I will die. Malacath has given me a vision of a glorious death. I am to wait here until it finds me. As you can see, it has not yet arrived."
ES
Slowly her lips parted. She looked into his eyes curiously, still glittering, still filled with life. Old? How could this orc think he was old? Was the thought of becoming chief really so great that power had overwhelmed everything else; and who had said he could not take a wife at this age? Tradition, perhaps?
"You don't look that old to me. Certainly you're still a strong, capable warrior?" she asked, still reluctant to believe all she was hearing.
"Indeed. One should find his death while he can still call himself a proper man. We orc men are not like these Nords and Imperials, who carry on until they are grey and feeble and their hair falls out. To cling to something passed its usefulness is unseemly. How much more so when that thing is you?" he asked, slightly amused by the question.
Was being old such a horrible fate? Long had she believed that even those who died old had died too young. She had watched too many pass on of age, always too young. The belief surprised her yet angered her. Was it wrong to live a long life? She had met older orcs than this one in her travels. It wasn't fair! He was a young man still; and she… She for her part would wed him then and there, a complete stranger, if it meant saving his life; if it meant this mere boy, in the span of time, held onto life a little longer.
ES
He watched her silently. She was pretty, there was no use denying that. And angry, he could sense it, feel it. Angry and saddened. She would never truly understand. You know… he would have married her once upon a time. Yes… yes, he would have married her. As he watched this stranger play with the very amulet that symbolized love, he shook his head gently. He would have married her once upon a time. Once upon a time was a tale for children, though; once upon a time had ended for him now. Still, part of him wondered…Was there still a chance for him?
Quickly he denied the thought. Enough of such ideologies. They were the thoughts of a boy, a young man, an Imperial or Nord, not of a wisened old orc. Wisened… old… Was he, really either? There was still so much to learn, to see… No, no, enough of this.
"Are we done here?" he demanded of her, tone sounding harsher than he'd meant it to. He bit his tongue but kept silent. He would not apologize. He wouldn't… He couldn't. To show weakness to her… he would fall, his resolve would crumble. No, there would be no fear shown; yet somehow he knew, he sensed, that she felt his uncertainty and fear. He knew, felt, that she would have done anything to change his mind, but understood he would not back down. He wouldn't back down…
ES
"Perhaps I could give you the death you seek?" she finally asked.
The statement startled him. He knew she didn't want to. Every action about her screamed she didn't want to, that the thought was thrusting her into her own personal Oblivion. "Perhaps. Are you sure about this?" he finally questioned, and his tone sounded caring. He hated himself for it. No weakness, no reluctance, no thought of what could have been, no, no, no!
"Yes, I am sure. I will give you a good death," she finally replied, voice cracking. She'd hoped he would back down. She'd been certain he would back down. But if he wouldn't, neither would she."
"Hmm, we shall see," he answered. It would be a fight to the death. It would have been a fight to the death, but if he defeated her… He knew he wouldn't be able to kill her if she fell to his mercy. "Never should have come here," he declared quietly, and they and only they knew the significance of those words, how true they were.
ES
He was at her mercy, gasping and panting. He gazed up at her quietly, waiting for the finishing blow. Would she go through with it? Half of him hoped she would, the other begged her not to. This side he fought. Tears were in her eyes as she looked down at him. Pity, compassion, love… Yes, he would have married this woman once upon a time. He would have married her in a heartbeat, broken tradition, broken every law he had learned, if it meant having her as his bride. Not now, though. Not now. To think on what could have been would destroy him. "Do it," he ordered.
She gazed down at him and sobbed, closing her eyes tightly. She would have married this stranger if it meant he lived to see another day. She would have married this orc. Are you satisfied, Malacath? Another young man claimed to your selfish whim, your desires, consumed by your lies; yours and so many other Daedric Princes. She struck. She heard a pained gasp, but the orc didn't cry out. She forced her eyes open and gazed down at the body. Gently she knelt next to his side and placed the Amulet of Mara in the dead man's hand. "I would have been yours," she whispered softly to him. Gently she kissed his lips then rose and walked away.
A/N: Quest Referenced-A Good Death