Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein/Executioner Smough
Word Count: 5.239
Summary: Ornstein not eating right is taking a toll on himself. He receives help from an unexpected source.
(Author's note: After over a year, I finally can update this fic again. I am sorry. I simply HAD to go on hiatus in July and it was the right decision. It really helped me to have these eight months without creative endeavours (outside of spur of the moment things) and it helped me to prepare to welcome my husband back home.
Anyway, after such a long pause I had to reread my first two chapters and then managed to write the third one you are about to read. As you recall, I don't plan to have this fic overly long so things are getting moved along here.
Please enjoy. Kudos, comments, fav or whatever the side you read this on has are always welcome and cherished.)
Ornstein didn't know what was worse. He didn't know if it was worse wallowing in bed until his body forced him to get up or having to stand guard day after day with one of the worst people he'd ever known right next to him.
Ornstein tried his best to ignore Smough but it simply was not possible whenever the executioner felt like being extremely cruel and was rubbing all of Ornstein's failure into a still sore feeling wound. Ornstein just couldn't help but react to them, even knowing that a reaction was all that Smough wanted out of him.
However, most of the teases were things that Ornstein could learn to just let glide off of himself. Insults that he had heard plenty of times already, it was easy enough to just sigh at them and completely ignore Smough's word, acting as if they had simply scraped his armour.
Maybe that was why Smough seemed to fall even lower than before... because one day he said something that made Ornstein blow off.
"I am not surprised you are the only one left... after all, after Artorias died, why should anyone still want to hang around you? He was the one that people flocked to, never you, and even your oh so precious other knights knew it because you were the only one to come back."
Ornstein could feel the pain in his fist when he grabbed his spear upon hearing these words. Artorias' death had been one of the most awful events in his life. Not only had he lost his brother in arms and best friend, the other knights, Gough and Ciaran, also quit for good and stayed in Oolacile, so that Ornstein was the only of the Knights of Gwyn to return.
And Ornstein knew that all of the knights considered him as much of a friend as he did consider them cherished friends. Ornstein still felt immense guilt over the deaths of all of them. He hadn't stopped Artorias from challenging the Abyss. He had failed to see Ciaran's sadness. He had failed to notice that the tower Gough was inhabiting was decrepit.
Hearing Smough devaluing their friendship hurt. It hurt a lot more than he thought it would, but in a way Ornstein couldn't help to think that maybe, just maybe, Smough was right and that they really didn't value Ornstein as much as he had valued them.
It was a fact that Ornstein didn't want to think about though and he certainly didn't want anyone to insult his cherished dead friends, acting as if they had just shared his company because he happened to be near Artorias.
"You know absolutely nothing about them and I won't let you insult them like this.", Ornstein growled, trying his hardest to not point his spear towards Smough, "You, who never had any friends, should not talk about things you don't understand."
That seemed to shut Smough up. For a couple of seconds at least. Then, he talked again, his tone of voice the usual scoff: "Oh, it seems I have found something that still riles you up, dragon slayer..."
Ornstein took a deep breath. Just what would come next... a part of him just wanted to cover his ears.
"...If you really were such great friends then you wouldn't need to defend them.", Smough whispered, "Isn't it that you feel some truth in my words, hm, dragon slayer?"
"Shut... just shut up!", Ornstein shouted, "I won't take this any longer. If you won't stop then my spear will find you as a target."
"...I think I made my point.", Smough's voice dropped to a whisper, making Ornstein shiver. Smough had won. Ornstein hated that he didn't have a quip or a clever argument against him because of that deep part inside of himself that whispered that Smough was right. Ornstein hated himself for hearing that whisper. He knew that Artorias, Ciaran and Gough had been his friends and doubting them for even one second...
At the same time, he knew that he could never talk to them anymore to find out if his worries were ever justified. Ornstein desperately wanted to think that their friendship had been as deep as he thought it was but the voice in his head always whispered to him that they had been quick to leave him alone.
Ornstein could tell himself a million times how unfair it was to have these thoughts about his dead friends, they would never leave. And that was why Smough's words hit so hard, saying out loud what Ornstein was hearing during his worst moments.
Ornstein couldn't wait for the day to be over so that he didn't have to stay at Smough's side anymore. However, being alone wasn't much better. He would either stay alone in his room and stare against the wall, barely able to distract himself from the deep aching feeling in his chest or he would wander the hallways, pretending that nothing had changed and that everyone would still be there... though he would never say anything out loud, in fear of Smough catching him.
The problem with food also consisted. Ornstein was just not making any progress with cooking, no matter how hard he tried. He either had to choke down a disgusting meal of his own making or keep eating bland bread. Needless to say, Ornstein lost more and more of his appetite until he was only eating enough to keep the worst hunger at bay. Ornstein knew that he was not eating enough but he preferred being hungry to being forced to eat even one more meal of his. He was so bad at cooking that it could be considered torture having to eat whatever... he managed to make out of stuff that once could have been described as food.
Several weeks must have passed like this. Enough time so that Ornstein got used to Smough's random insults. Enough time that him purposefully barely eating anything took a toll on him. It was the first time they had to fight an actual invader instead of one of Gwyndolin's illusions.
The invader was, clear as day, an undead as could be seen by the Estus Flask at their belt. A being that would have to be killed several times until they gave up. Ornstein could understand why the princess wanted him on the task and he could also understand why she insisted on him having a partner but he really would have liked to have anyone else. He would even prefer one of Gwyndolin's illusions at his side instead of Smough. He was sure he would be able to fight better with a copy of himself. At least he himself would never get in his way like Smough did.
Unfortunately, Ornstein had to realize that Smough was dictating the battle. He felt dizzy and weak, knowing that him barely eating anything was at fault. Ornstein mostly stayed behind, only taking a stab at the Undead if they came too close. He couldn't even muster the energy for a lightning bolt or one of his infamous dashes.
After the Undead had been squashed once again by Smough's hammer and turned into ashes to reform at the last bonfire they touched, Smough turned to face Ornstein.
"That was weak, even for you, dragon slayer."
Ornstein wanted to say something, anything, but his energy was gone. He knew Smough was right. He was not feeling well today. It still felt wrong to just let Smough win like this, so he struggled to find something to retort.
"Maybe I would be in better shape if I wouldn't have to listen to your senseless insults day after day.", he muttered, not even feeling like he believed himself.
"Even your bite has become dull.", Smough continued, "Dragon slayer, we both know that there is something amiss and it is not me."
The words were so truthful that it hurt. Ornstein could feel the stab in his chest as if Smough's words would have been a knife and he just twisted it into his heart.
"Who else should it be but you.", Ornstein said but there was no sharpness in his words. He felt dull. Dull, lonely, alone. And the worst person in existence had noticed it as well. Ornstein asked himself how the day could get even worse.
As it turned out, the day could get worse. At first Ornstein thought that it would get better because the Undead didn't return, either hollow or trying their luck elsewhere. However, once Ornstein tried to get dinner and felt far too nauseous to even try eating something, he planned to go back to his room.
It was there when his decisions of the last few weeks caught up to him and he felt himself tumbling towards the floor, barely being able to extend his hands to halt his fall before his world went dark.
Ornstein woke to one of the most pleasant smells his nose had been tickled with... since a long while. His stomach gave an angry growl at the smell and Ornstein shot up with his face flushed red, glad that he was wearing his helmet... only that he wasn't wearing his helmet. It was lying on the table next to him.
Confused, Ornstein looked around. He was in the kitchen. There was a little corner bench with a table where the servants normally would take breaks and take in their own meals, but now Ornstein was lying on it. He surely hadn't made it here by himself? What had happened? And what was smelling so good? Nobody would cook anymore these days...
Ornstein had to admit that his mouth was watering at the smell. It smelled heavenly. He certainly wanted to know what it was and who prepared it. His eyes wandered over to the stove.
Ornstein lost his appetite when he saw the vile executioner standing there. And he could feel some nausea bubbling up when he thought of exactly what Smough was cooking up there. The man wasn't wearing his armour but there was really only one person this size left in the cathedral. At least only one person this size who could move around.
Upon noticing Ornstein's movement, Smough turned around and faced him.
"I see you have awoken, dragon slayer.", he said and then he poured some of the soup he was preparing in a bowl. It still smelled good, far too good. How could something so disgusting smell so nice?
Ornstein was assuming that Smough wanted to mock him. He wanted to mock Ornstein for not being able to cook. And he would do it in the worst way possible, by eating his own vile cooking right in front of Ornstein. How much lower would the executioner get?
Somehow what Smough did next was even worse. He actually offered the bowl to Ornstein, clearly with the intent that Ornstein should eat it.
"How can you even think that I would eat your food?!", Ornstein said, almost yelled, "I will never be as low as you. I would rather starve than ever eat what you prepared!"
"Dragon slayer... do you think that I really would give you that food.", Smough said, voice dropping to a whisper, "I found you collapsed in the hallway... because you idiot are starving yourself. I don't need a weight that cannot fight because he won't eat... if you know what is good for you, you'll eat the food I so graciously offered you."
Ornstein stared at the bowl with the soup. His mouth was watering. His stomach growling. He wanted, no, he needed that food, but...
He had to stay strong. That all had to be a trap. Smough just wanted him to stoop down to his level.
"Who tells me that you are saying a truth? That might all just be a trick to get me to join in your disgusting food habits.", Ornstein said, trying as hard as he could to switch the signals of his body off.
"My special food would be wasted on you.", Smough growled, "You certainly wouldn't appreciate it at all. There are some things that you don't know and you'll never understand, dragon slayer. Now eat before I have to force it into your pretty throat."
Smough would go as far... Ornstein was conflicted. His mind screamed at him to not eat the food, to leave it be and to keep his honour but his body was screaming at him to finally eat the first decent meals he had in weeks, maybe months, to finally not half starve himself anymore.
Shamefully, his body won. Ornstein accepted the bowl of soup and with quite some hesitation, managed to swallow a spoonful.
What happened next was not what Ornstein had expected.
The taste exploded in his mouth. In the most pleasant way. Ornstein swore that he had never eaten anything that tasty in his life. A second spoonful followed, then a third. Soon Ornstein was practically shovelling the soup in his mouth. Oh how he had craved some proper food. It even let him forget that the executioner might have cooked with some... less than preferable parts.
"I don't like you, dragon slayer.", Smough said, "But I cannot let you starve yourself. You'll just slow me down if I have to save your sorry ass because you are too dizzy to fight."
Ornstein slowed down on eating, thinking about earlier. Smough was right. That had been weak and he knew the answer.
"I admit that my performance today was not up to my usual standard."
"Not up to your usual standard. Hah. Dragon slayer, that is the understatement of the century. You were barely able to keep yourself on your feet. And that is making me mad."
What was Smough talking about? Wasn't being mad just his default status? Especially if Ornstein was around. What was he talking about?
"Do you care to explain yourself?", Ornstein asked, lowering the bowl with the soup, fearing that he would spill something depending on Smough's answer.
"That you have enough food to not go hungry and still choose to anyway.", Smough said, "But as I said, you won't get it, dragon slayer. There are just things that you'll never understand."
Ornstein looked into the soup. That was... kind of strange. Smough had always done his best to mock Ornstein and make him feel unloved and unwelcome and pointing out his flaws that Ornstein knew he had but that was different...
"I am going to prepare your meals from now on.", Smough said, "And you better do not leave anything on your plate."
Ornstein stared in his bowl while Smough went to the door to leave. Once the executioner was gone, he finished it. That had been the best meal he must have had in his entire life and Ornstein couldn't be considered young.
However, Smough's words gave Ornstein reason to think. He kept lying in bed, awake, unable to sleep, determining that he actually barely knew anything about Smough.
There are things that you don't know, dragon slayer.
Smough's words were still ringing in his ears. A past version of him probably would have just dismissed them. He would have thought that Smough was just playing a game with him and that he would be the one to lose in the end.
The version of Ornstein that existed in the present however... He was wondering. Smough didn't have to give him food. At least not food that had been properly prepared and clearly had been freshly cooked. Food that tasted good. It had tasted like food where Smough had put genuine effort in.
Wouldn't it have been enough to give Ornstein something edible if Smough simply was worried about his performance? If Ornstein would have been able to cook and had found Smough in that situation, he probably wouldn't have gone through all that effort. He simply had made sure that the other man would not starve.
That was something that he maybe should get to the bottom of... Smough had felt so very different today in the kitchen, and Ornstein still considered himself an honourable knight. He hadn't properly thanked Smough yet.
With all these thoughts racing in his head, Ornstein laid awake for a long time before finally falling asleep despite not feeling hungry at all.
The next morning after Ornstein woke up, he managed to get out of bed right away instead of lingering for an hour or so. Maybe that he hadn't gone to bed hungry helped with it. Maybe it was because he planned to talk to Smough today... an honest civilized talk, not their petty fighting.
Ornstein just hoped that Smough would be willing to talk.
Once Ornstein had tied his hair into a ponytail and dressed himself in some loose clothes, he opened the door to his room to start his morning routine before he would don his armour. He was surprised to see that a plate with a cover was standing in front of his room.
Smough had mentioned that he would prepare food for Ornstein now but Ornstein hadn't expected that he would deliver it to his room. Was that really food of Smough? Couldn't it be that Gwyndolin or Gwynevere had figured out Ornstein's problem and sneaked him food?
There was a letter attached to the food. As Ornstein uncoiled it he recognized Smough's handwriting.
"You better eat up, dragon slayer. I am not accepting any leftovers or you wish you had never left the bed for the day."
Ornstein sighed. For quite some time he wished he didn't need to leave bed anymore, he didn't need the executioner to threaten him. However, Smough had kept his "promise" (it wasn't as if Ornstein did have a say in it), so Ornstein took the food into his room to eat. He could do his morning routine after. He didn't want to let the food cool down.
Ornstein put the plate onto the table and removed the cover. The smell wafting into his nose made his mouth water. Even more when he saw what it was.
The dish he had failed despite it being so easy. Scrambled eggs. That was how they were supposed to look. Golden, fluffy and delicious. Ornstein took the fork that was laying onto the plate into his hand and took a bite.
Tears fell down Ornstein's face and into the food, probably salting it a bit. Those eggs... were perfect. They were fantastically fluffy, they had been fried to the exact right cooking point. There were herbs on the eggs that made the taste so much richer.
Again Ornstein asked himself why Smough went so far to give him food that actually tasted that good. Why wasn't he giving him food that was just adequate? What drove Smough to actually put effort into cooking for his enemy?
Ornstein felt guilty for these thoughts. Guilty for all the times he had called Smough a cannibalistic brute. Ornstein had let his own biases dictate a view of Smough to him that might not even be true. If Ornstein was honest to himself, he might have been a big jerk to Smough.
However, he shouldn't trust Smough too early. It was a fact that Smough was eating the remains of his victims. And Smough had never passed up a chance to insult Ornstein. He also never had even thought about changing his habits despite having pestered Ornstein to get a position at the Knights of Gwyn.
Still, Ornstein felt ready to talk. He wanted to know. He wanted to understand. He especially wanted to understand. And not only because Smough had told him that he would never understand yesterday.
Once Ornstein had finished eating, shamefully having licked the plate because of how good it tasted, he brought it back to the kitchen and quickly washed and dried it, he finally started his morning routine and soon was in his armour on the way to the grand cathedral.
Smough was already present. Ornstein could barely see if Smough acknowledged him because of the executioner's armour but he simply took his place a couple of feet next to him after he had honoured the princess. He found it a bit strange that she never seemed to leave that room though. But maybe she was leaving it in the night when he was not present.
Smough wasn't saying anything to Ornstein. The silence between them felt deafening. Ornstein wondered how he should approach talking to Smough... What would be the right thing to say? Would he find the right words?
He opened his mouth only to close it again. He stared at the ground and scraped it with his foot, still not finding the words. He hit the ground with the end of his spear in a rhythmic motion, creating a constant "toc toc toc" sound. After a while, Smough seemed to get annoyed with him.
"If you have to say something, spit it out, dragon slayer."
How did he know..? Had Ornstein mumbled under his breath as he had searched the word? Whatever, now was the perfect opportunity to ask.
"I wanted to ask a question.", Ornstein said with the most sincere honesty that he could muster into his voice.
"Oh? And here I thought all you could do were baseless accusations and spreading poison with your words."
Ornstein frowned, wondering if he should just stop and answer with a clever quip instead. He didn't want to though. He really wanted to know.
"You have given me food.", Ornstein said, "Why?"
"I already told you that.", Smough said and Ornstein swore his voice sounded as if the man was rolling his eyes, "I don't need a half starved skinny knight at my side who is barely able to stay on his feet, not to mention fight."
Ornstein shook his head. That couldn't be the whole reason.
"Then you could have simply given me food that would get the task done of not letting me go hungry.", Ornstein said, pointing out his earlier thoughts, "But your food was..."
It was hard to get the words out. Why couldn't he be honest to himself?
"Are you telling me that you liked my food? Despite refusing it first? Because you thought that I gave you that kind of food?"
It had been the best food that Ornstein had eaten in centuries. But he couldn't say that. He couldn't let Smough have TOO much of an advantage.
"It was tasty.", Ornstein said, "Tastier than it had to be. That is all. I was just wondering why you went through this much effort for-"
For me. No, Ornstein shouldn't formulate it like that.
"You yourself said that you dislike me. Why do you give me food that tastes better than it has to be?"
"Dragon slayer, I told you there are things that you will not understand and you'll never understand.", Smough said, "You are just proving my point. Again."
"But I want to understand.", Ornstein turned to Smough to directly face him, "That yesterday... it was different. It wasn't your usual jeers. You... you seemed to be legit mad."
"And why do you think I was so mad at you, dragon slayer?", Smough asked, "Maybe if you just try and think you'll get it. But I am doubting it. Someone like you, why should you ever understand?"
"...You were mad at me because I was not eating right.", Ornstein said, "And that strikes me as odd. Why should it be interesting to you if I eat right? Even if I am performing better with a full belly... why do you even want me at your side? Wouldn't it be your wish to protect the princess alone? To finally get rid of the dead weight that is pulling you down?"
It hurt Ornstein to talk so lowly about himself. And it scared him a little when he noticed that this was how he might think about Smough. As just someone who was in the way and he couldn't wait to see him fall or leave so he finally could do his job properly.
Smough scoffed. "You have a fascinating image of me in your head, dragon slayer. Tell me, if you would see someone that is starving, even if that someone is your worst enemy, would you help them? Or let them die?"
"I-", Ornstein started, wanting to say that he of course would help, but... he was not sure. Would he help his worst enemy or leave them to their death?
"I don't know.", Ornstein said, feeling very very small.
"And that is why I said you won't understand.", Smough said, turning to face the doorway instead of Ornstein.
"And I said I want to understand.", Ornstein was not ready to give up yet, "Explain it to me. Help me understand. Please."
The last word would have been something that past Ornstein never would have said to Smough.
"Are you really begging me to explain it to you?", Smough turned back to face Ornstein, "Hmmm... maybe if you kneel in front of me and say it again?"
Ornstein clenched his teeth at the request. How degrading... However, there was nobody there to see him anymore, and he really wanted to get an answer out of Smough finally.
Ornstein kneeled in front of Smough. "Please.", he said, "Tell me. Tell me what it is I don't understand."
"I didn't think you would really do it, dragon slayer.", Ornstein could hear the grin in Smough's voice, "I think you earned yourself an answer. However, I think that answer has to come in the form of a question."
Ornstein cocked his head. How was a question supposed to help him understand?
"Dragon slayer... Have you ever felt the despair of being hungry but there was no food around? Have you ever been desperate to eat something, anything, regardless of what it was? Have you ever felt true hunger?"
Ornstein slowly went back on his feet as he mulled over the question. Why was Smough asking all of this? Ornstein surely had been hungry, especially on long missions or on the battlefield. However, in the end he always ended up with a full belly and if they were eating the corpses of the dragons.
What did Smough mean? Why was he asking about him having felt true hunger? What was true hunger?
Ornstein crossed his arms as he thought. Maybe... maybe if he would not have been able to get food after a long mission. If there simply had been no food to distribute... If they wouldn't have been able to eat the corpses of the dragons then they might have...
Ornstein gasped.
"Have you experienced a famine before you became the executioner?"
"Do you understand now why I am getting so mad that you almost starved yourself despite having plenty of food?", Smough said, "I don't want to see someone wasting away like that ever again. Even if it is you. You better learn to cherish the food you have, dragon slayer, and if I have to force you by preparing it in a way that your noble ass will actually eat."
Ornstein doubted that Smough had noticed his sorry excuses of trying to prepare a meal. Not even someone who was a cannibal would look at that and think it would be edible. It pained him but he had to confess his blatant lack of skill in the kitchen.
"I never had to cook for myself.", he murmured, "So I don't know how and it was getting more and more difficult to eat the 'meals' that I created... As a knight and even before, in the orphanage, I always had someone who would cook for me... It just never has been an issue before..."
"Wait.", Smough suddenly said, "At the orphanage? What do you mean?"
"It is where I grew up.", Ornstein said, "I was a foundling. Abandoned on the steps of the orphanage. I have never met my parents. I don't even know who they are."
"So... you are not the son of some rich asshole noble who paid loads of money to get his dear little son a place within the dragon slayers? You haven't grown up in the posh area of the city at all? Are you really telling me that, dragon slayer?"
"Yes.", Ornstein said, wrinkling his forehead in annoyance, "And what do you mean, someone should have paid money for my position? I am letting you know that I was working hard for it. I admit that my Ma-, the Firstborn of the Sun, did train me and maybe that gave me some privilege but he still treated me just like any of the other silver knights."
Ornstein faced Smough now, looking directly into whatever counted as his face in that ridiculous armour of his.
"Were you having that impression of me? That I just was some mollycoddled noble? I have fought many of these beasts on my own in a life or death battle. I did prove my worth as a Knight of Gwyn and as a dragon slayer. That you had such an impression of me..."
It seriously hurt. Even though Ornstein knew that Smough had disliked him, he seemed to have disliked him for all the wrong reasons. Had Ornstein really given Smough the impression that he was such a person?
Thinking back on some of their interactions he had to admit that he had. He always had treated Smough as lesser and as someone not worthy to join them. It shouldn't even be a surprise that Smough had this impression of him. And it surely shouldn't hurt.
But it did. More than it should actually. Why was Ornstein caring for Smough's opinion of him suddenly?
"Isn't the same true for you, dragon slayer?", Smough murmured, "Aren't you having a picture of me in your mind that you have fabricated over the years? Tell me to my face who you think that I am."
Ornstein felt a pang going through his chest. Oh, that would be hard. That wasn't one of their usual fights, this was serious. Smough had told Ornstein a lot of things he did have no clue about and he had given Ornstein a clear depiction of who he thought the dragon slayer was.
It was tempting to just give up the conversation and go away, leaving Smough alone but Ornstein couldn't do that. Both his pride and the princess needing protection wouldn't allow it.
"...I have always seen you as nothing but a cannibalistic prude who has a sadistic joy in killing people...", he murmured, looking at the ground, gripping his spear so hard that his knuckles turned white even through his gauntlets.
"Dragon slayer.", Smough said, "It appears that we both know far less about the other than we thought."
Those words were nothing but the truth. Ornstein couldn't find an answer to them. For the rest of the day silence was spreading between them. A silence so quiet that Ornstein almost wished that they could fight and spit insults at each other again.
(Author's note:
Me: "I love the enemies to lovers trope."
Also me: "I am actually not good at writing the whole enemies part of this trope."
Mea culpa... I prefer to write light-hearted banter instead of mean-spirited teasing. That is the main reason I moved this fic along so they can enter the "friends" stage. I wanna get to the romance.
I am glad I am still the master of Ornstein angst. My dear golden knight just is good at having mental breakdowns and angsting over stuff. I love him.)