FIC: Architecture in Paris || Ariadne-centric || G
Title: Architecture in Paris
Pairing: Ariadne/Cobb (unrequited), Arthur/Cobb
Word Count: ~1,100
Warnings: angst, introspection
Summary: Dreams only last for as long as you're asleep.
A/N: Originally posted here at inception_kink. I was a bit too hasty when I first posted and obviously couldn't edit it at the time, so there were some small but annoying mistakes (though fewer, in retrospect, than I'd thought. What are you trying to tell me, self?). I cleaned it up a bit here for a better reading experience. And then I picked at it a little, just because.
*
She could never have dreamed up Dominic Cobb.
It was only because of this that she knew for sure that the inception job hadn't been a dream, that she was awake, that this was her reality. She almost felt like the token she'd made for herself was merely a placeholder, as if she wouldn't need one if she had him.
She didn't know when it had happened, but in retrospect it seemed so inevitable. She thought there might be some inherent, heart-deep flaw in her that had made her incapable of not falling in love with the man who had given her access to a world of pure creation. The things she could do in dreams... it was beyond anything she could have hoped for before meeting Dom.
After that first taste, she hadn't been able to stay away. He'd known, had seen it in her, and he'd been right.
In her attempts to know more she'd been pushy, intrusive -- too eager to learn, her mother had always said, too curious and willful for her own good.
But she couldn't be sorry about it, didn't feel regret. She'd done what she'd had to do. Maybe she hadn't known exactly why she was doing it, at the time, but it didn't matter what her motives had been. Intruding in Dom's mind had, in the end, worked in everyone's favor; someone had needed to know what he was dealing with.
It had hurt to learn the truth behind the man. He'd made her heart ache, and knowing that what she felt was just a fraction of a shadow of what Dom had been dealing with for so long made it hard to breathe sometimes. And even though she hadn't been invited, she still felt privileged to have gained some understanding and insight into what Dom was dealing with, honored that she might have had some part in him finding peace.
He deserved to be at peace. He deserved happiness. She wanted that for him.
Sitting at the rocks beside the river with Arthur after leaving Dom behind, she hadn't been worried. Maybe Arthur knew Dom best, but there were things they hadn't shared. Arthur hadn't seen what she'd seen. When Arthur had feared Dom to be lost, she'd known better. She'd witnessed Dom letting go of Mal's memory. It hadn't been hard for her to have faith.
She'd been right.
And there had been a moment at the airport, Dom sharing a look with her after being welcomed home, when she'd been certain that everything would work out. She'd been so certain that he'd find happiness again, that maybe he'd find happiness with her.
It wasn't until that moment she'd realized exactly how far she'd fallen, and when she did, it seemed like just another puzzle piece falling into place. Inevitable. She'd found a world she'd never even imagined existed, Dom's world. They'd completed and inception job - an impossible job - and Dom was free to go home, see his children again.
Everything would work out.
The idea of it was like gospel inside of her, too powerful to be anything but the truth.
Until this moment, here, she'd believed in it. She hadn't even thought to question it, for who would question the truth? It was only now she realized how much of it had been based in hope. In dreams.
Inevitable, she thought. It was all so inevitable. Even the best can miscalculate.
But she had been unprepared, and it hurt. It hurt to breathe.
It all came down to moments she couldn't take back. Maybe if, upon seeing the half-open study door, she would've just continued on her way. Maybe if she'd finished her drink quicker, or slower, so that she'd been on her way to the kitchen at some other point in time. Maybe if she hadn't arranged such a foolproof schedule for herself in order to make sure he'd make it to Dom's homecoming party. Maybe if she and Dom hadn't shared that look at the airport. Maybe if she hadn't invaded his dreams, his memories, if she'd stayed away after that first dream death like she'd intended, or had never decided to study in Paris in the first place.
Maybe if she'd listened to her mother more, growing up.
Maybe then she wouldn't have been standing here, at the doorway of Dom's study, unseen and unwanted. An intruder.
She wouldn't have seen how, inside, Dom and Arthur sat across from each other, knees almost touching; she didn't need to hear the words to know what was being said.
Dom was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his back bent like an apology. Arthur, impeccable and unruffled as ever -- looking at Dom with eyes so warm, so warm -- reaching out to take Dom's hands; an absolution.
She'd been so wrapped in what she thought she knew that she hadn't even realized until now how entirely she had built her theories on her own, narrow point of view. All this time, in relation to Dom, Arthur had been a abstract in her mind. She'd known, intellectually, that they were close, that Arthur knew Dom best. Anyone who knew them would have told you as much. Dom depended on Arthur; she'd practically said as much herself.
She'd known all this, but she hadn't understood. She'd thought having witnessed Dom's mind, having helped him heal, had somehow made her special. Had thought too much, or maybe too little, of the fact that Dom had kept it all from Arthur.
Sharp dressed, dependable, professional Arthur, who'd brushed an insolent kiss against her lips just because he could. It had meant nothing, and so she had erroneously applied the same to him. She'd written him out of the equation where she and Dom were concerned because she hadn't understood the true meaning of the lines that connected Arthur and Dom.
She understood now, saw all the ways they connected and completed each other's equations, and her heart felt like Paris being folded in, the city streets blocking the sun.
Inside the study, Dom, with his eyes closed, pressed his lips against the back of Arthur's hand, the gesture both tender and reverent.
Ariadne wrapped her fingers around the golden chess piece in her pocket. It felt real. It was all real.
She turned and walked away.
Pairing: Ariadne/Cobb (unrequited), Arthur/Cobb
Word Count: ~1,100
Warnings: angst, introspection
Summary: Dreams only last for as long as you're asleep.
A/N: Originally posted here at inception_kink. I was a bit too hasty when I first posted and obviously couldn't edit it at the time, so there were some small but annoying mistakes (though fewer, in retrospect, than I'd thought. What are you trying to tell me, self?). I cleaned it up a bit here for a better reading experience. And then I picked at it a little, just because.
*
She could never have dreamed up Dominic Cobb.
It was only because of this that she knew for sure that the inception job hadn't been a dream, that she was awake, that this was her reality. She almost felt like the token she'd made for herself was merely a placeholder, as if she wouldn't need one if she had him.
She didn't know when it had happened, but in retrospect it seemed so inevitable. She thought there might be some inherent, heart-deep flaw in her that had made her incapable of not falling in love with the man who had given her access to a world of pure creation. The things she could do in dreams... it was beyond anything she could have hoped for before meeting Dom.
After that first taste, she hadn't been able to stay away. He'd known, had seen it in her, and he'd been right.
In her attempts to know more she'd been pushy, intrusive -- too eager to learn, her mother had always said, too curious and willful for her own good.
But she couldn't be sorry about it, didn't feel regret. She'd done what she'd had to do. Maybe she hadn't known exactly why she was doing it, at the time, but it didn't matter what her motives had been. Intruding in Dom's mind had, in the end, worked in everyone's favor; someone had needed to know what he was dealing with.
It had hurt to learn the truth behind the man. He'd made her heart ache, and knowing that what she felt was just a fraction of a shadow of what Dom had been dealing with for so long made it hard to breathe sometimes. And even though she hadn't been invited, she still felt privileged to have gained some understanding and insight into what Dom was dealing with, honored that she might have had some part in him finding peace.
He deserved to be at peace. He deserved happiness. She wanted that for him.
Sitting at the rocks beside the river with Arthur after leaving Dom behind, she hadn't been worried. Maybe Arthur knew Dom best, but there were things they hadn't shared. Arthur hadn't seen what she'd seen. When Arthur had feared Dom to be lost, she'd known better. She'd witnessed Dom letting go of Mal's memory. It hadn't been hard for her to have faith.
She'd been right.
And there had been a moment at the airport, Dom sharing a look with her after being welcomed home, when she'd been certain that everything would work out. She'd been so certain that he'd find happiness again, that maybe he'd find happiness with her.
It wasn't until that moment she'd realized exactly how far she'd fallen, and when she did, it seemed like just another puzzle piece falling into place. Inevitable. She'd found a world she'd never even imagined existed, Dom's world. They'd completed and inception job - an impossible job - and Dom was free to go home, see his children again.
Everything would work out.
The idea of it was like gospel inside of her, too powerful to be anything but the truth.
Until this moment, here, she'd believed in it. She hadn't even thought to question it, for who would question the truth? It was only now she realized how much of it had been based in hope. In dreams.
Inevitable, she thought. It was all so inevitable. Even the best can miscalculate.
But she had been unprepared, and it hurt. It hurt to breathe.
It all came down to moments she couldn't take back. Maybe if, upon seeing the half-open study door, she would've just continued on her way. Maybe if she'd finished her drink quicker, or slower, so that she'd been on her way to the kitchen at some other point in time. Maybe if she hadn't arranged such a foolproof schedule for herself in order to make sure he'd make it to Dom's homecoming party. Maybe if she and Dom hadn't shared that look at the airport. Maybe if she hadn't invaded his dreams, his memories, if she'd stayed away after that first dream death like she'd intended, or had never decided to study in Paris in the first place.
Maybe if she'd listened to her mother more, growing up.
Maybe then she wouldn't have been standing here, at the doorway of Dom's study, unseen and unwanted. An intruder.
She wouldn't have seen how, inside, Dom and Arthur sat across from each other, knees almost touching; she didn't need to hear the words to know what was being said.
Dom was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his back bent like an apology. Arthur, impeccable and unruffled as ever -- looking at Dom with eyes so warm, so warm -- reaching out to take Dom's hands; an absolution.
She'd been so wrapped in what she thought she knew that she hadn't even realized until now how entirely she had built her theories on her own, narrow point of view. All this time, in relation to Dom, Arthur had been a abstract in her mind. She'd known, intellectually, that they were close, that Arthur knew Dom best. Anyone who knew them would have told you as much. Dom depended on Arthur; she'd practically said as much herself.
She'd known all this, but she hadn't understood. She'd thought having witnessed Dom's mind, having helped him heal, had somehow made her special. Had thought too much, or maybe too little, of the fact that Dom had kept it all from Arthur.
Sharp dressed, dependable, professional Arthur, who'd brushed an insolent kiss against her lips just because he could. It had meant nothing, and so she had erroneously applied the same to him. She'd written him out of the equation where she and Dom were concerned because she hadn't understood the true meaning of the lines that connected Arthur and Dom.
She understood now, saw all the ways they connected and completed each other's equations, and her heart felt like Paris being folded in, the city streets blocking the sun.
Inside the study, Dom, with his eyes closed, pressed his lips against the back of Arthur's hand, the gesture both tender and reverent.
Ariadne wrapped her fingers around the golden chess piece in her pocket. It felt real. It was all real.
She turned and walked away.