30_kisses Oswald/Gwendolyn #6
Title: Illusions
Author/Artist: mtakuja
Pairing: Oswald/Gwendolyn
Fandom: Odin Sphere
Theme: 6. The space between dream and reality written for 30_kisses
Disclaimer: I do not own Odin Sphere, nor do I claim to own any characters mention in this fic. This game belongs solely to Atlus and Vanillaware. I am not making a profit from writing this fanfic.
Summary: Constant dreams of blood shed often plague Oswald‘s sub-conscious mind. But Gwendolyn had always been there, standing in that small space between dream and reality, willing to lead him out of the darkness.
The feeling of unease refused to leave the sanctuary of his quivering gut. Oswald found himself tossing and turning restlessly on his bed, one strong hand fisting the silken sheets below him in an act to calm his nerves. His mind was in a current state of turbulence and no matter how hard he tried he could not gain control of his jumbled thoughts.
His thoughts laid scattered like chess pieces across the surface of his mind, tormenting his very soul with the utter darkness they contained. Resurfacing images of carnage and destruction that had laid dormant for some time now, came to life--plaguing him like an incurable disease that in turn caused him to start to slowly drift away from reality.
So much so that he often times felt like he was re-living a battle right in his own bed room--the screams of those he had killed screeching forth from his memory seemed far to real to be just a mirage. He could literally smell the stench of death that hovered over the battle field, and his old scars--long healed began to sting again as if re-opened by a blade.
These illusions, thankfully, only lasted for a few painful seconds before disappearing all together--leaving Oswald in a cold sweat that would last for hours. After composing himself, he would often shake his head at his own foolishness, chiding himself for having an over-active imagination--like some young child he knew he was not.
However; Oswald knew he would never be free of his treacherous thoughts, they would continue to taunt him until the day he would have to return to Endelphia. That was his ultimate punishment for slaying so many--because no matter how strong he was in battle no one could escape their sins. But for those who have sinned it wasn’t to late to repent and wish for a better life. Perhaps if he did some good, then these dreams and illusions would stop rotting his brain.
So in his act of redemption, Oswald had taken upon himself to dispose of those in the world who wished for power. And he had been very successful so far in his attempts, having slaughtered Skuldi of the three wise men.
That old man had done the unforgivable, stealing Gwendolyn was enough to set his blood boiling--but to use her as a tool in order to plunge the nation of Ragnanival into war with the Fire Kingdom just to get back at Odin was something that made him nearly go over the edge.
He would not allow anyone to use her like that--he promised himself this the minute he had became her husband and he knew that he could give his life just for that promise. That was part of the reason why he left so much on his missions, because there were many--like Skuldi--out there using people and obtaining power for selfish reasons.
And he always felt disgusted with himself whenever he sat within the confides of his room doing nothing, when he well knew that he could be out there doing something.
But leaving his wife, Gwendolyn behind pained him considerably--and the feeling was quite mutual on her part. Every time he would leave her with beautiful parting words, she would smile at his half turned back--gentle blue eyes holding a deep sorrow that he knew would go away if he just decided to stay with her.
It made his heart burn even more with regret when he saw Gwendolyn bow her head to him in a submissive way, allowing her silver hair to fall over her quivering shoulders. It was in a sense her own way of accepting his decision--and veiling her own sadness as she spoke, “I’ll be waiting for you. ”
Those were always the last words he would hear when he left her side.
Traveling away from her was often becoming much harder to do. He would imagine her alluring face scrunched up in pain--warm tears trailing down her face as she cried out his name in agony at night. That image was what he had to deal with when he was removing another evil soul from the world--sometimes becoming far to distracted by it for his liking.
It caused him to be clumsy in his moves, receiving injuries that was by far unnecessary. That was why Oswald found himself taking much longer to fulfill his objectives while out, which was probably the reason Gwendolyn chased after him so much.
And there was a small part of him that actually appreciated that she cared enough to come--but there was also a part that deeply hated her loyalty. Oswald did not wish for Gwendolyn to lose her life in battle over his own weaknesses.
Seeing the many cuts--bruises and signs of fatigue that marred Gwendolyn’s flawless body after rescuing him from the land of dead, left him feeling quite bitter towards himself.
If he hadn’t allowed himself to be captured, would he have spared Gwendolyn such suffering? Spared her from risking her life against the over-bearing Queen.
Oswald would not allow himself to think of life without Gwendolyn--it was sure to drive him into a pit. That was why if he could forbid it--then he would stop Gwendolyn from ever following him into the heat of battle.
His life was far more expendable then hers, she was the future queen of a nation and he nothing but a common soldier that wielded the power of darkness. Oswald’s death would amount to nothing, just one less tortured soul wandering the land. A free spirit like hers didn’t deserve to be kept in death’s embrace, her life to him was far more precious then any other living beings. And he would protect that free spirit no matter what.
Suddenly, without warning a slight knock came to the door, bringing him violently back to reality. Oswald blinked rapidly, trying to gain his ground before shouting out, “who is it?”
“Brom.” Was the simple blunt reply, the old dwarf had never made it a habit of being extremely polite in Oswald’s presence--most likely due to the fact that he was familiar with the young man and Oswald didn’t particular hold any high status. This was of course in direct contrast to the way he treated Gwendolyn with the utmost respect and courtesy.
Oswald’s crimson eyes lowered in brief disappointment, half hoping that it would be his lovely wife at the door--but that seemed nearly impossible. Gwendolyn had left his side earlier that day, telling him that she wished to go shopping out in the city today with Myris. That was about all she informed him of--and Oswald wasn’t exactly a intrusive person so he didn’t question her motives at all as he watched her leave the room with a slightly awkward expression.
“You may come in.” The warrior said in monotone, hearing the door creak open to reveal the pint-sized man on the other side. Brom entered without another word, slamming the door shut behind him with a small leg before stepping up to the giant bed--caliginous eyes catching sight of Oswald’s placid form.
The young man laid almost lifeless upon his white sheets, eyes gazing up towards the ill--lighted ceiling. One arm laid draped around his torso, while the other lay flat against his side--a pale hand clutching the sheets in a vice like grip. When Brom moved closer to the other’s side he could see the tension in Oswald’s shoulders and grew severely worried.
“What is the matter Oswald?” He asked, sitting himself on the bed while Oswald turned towards him--crimson eyes darkened with something Brom couldn’t even begin to decipher. A small grim smile was all he received as an answer as the warrior sat up on the bed, bringing one hand up to clutch at his aching head.
“It‘s nothing.” He replied, gritting his teeth against the surging pain. There was a slight tremor in his voice as he said this words which was enough to convince Brom that there was something definitely wrong. But prying answers from Oswald was like trying to get a brick wall to talk--the man always kept a tight lid over his emotions until they threatened to spill out.
In which case he would go and seek out Brom’s wisdom, but forcing him out of his comfort zone was something you just didn’t do. Oswald had an extremely short temper when provoked, and no one wished to be on the receiving end. But Brom knew he had to at least try, even if he just got yelled at in the end, this was for the sake of Oswald’s well being
“Now, there is no need to lie. I can clearly see that something is wrong.” Brom almost regretted saying such words when Oswald turned towards him and gave him a fierce glare--one hand still clutching his throbbing head. For a moment he simple glared at Brom--eyes wavering before he turned away, face softening in a look of utter defeat. A small sigh escaped his dry lips.
“Oswald….”
“I have been having nightmares lately.” Oswald finally admitted, closing his eyes. Brom looked mildly surprised that the warrior even spoke, but still nodded in understanding, awaiting what the other would say next. “This dreams seem far to real, and when I awake I can still see things in front of me. It’s frightening…and I am not sure what to do.”
The old dwarf looked down, a line creasing his brow. “Dreams of what?”
“I have been in many battles Brom and no matter how much I try to forget them, I simply can’t. The faces of those that I have killed won’t leave my mind--it’s suffocating me and making me nearly go insane.”
The tension returned to Oswald’s form and Brom for the first time was actually at a lost for words. What could he possibly say to something like that? It wasn’t like he could tell the other to just forget about it and it will pass. Things unfortunately were never that simple.
“I honestly don’t know what to tell you, Oswald.” The dwarf answered truthfully, frowning at the fact that he couldn’t be of any more help. Battle was something he was quite unaccustomed to--his old brittle bones proving to be just an hindrance towards his fighting ability.
His job was to craft jewels, he knew nothing of those that wielded them--their feelings, mind set was nothing but a big mystery to him. How would it feel to be a murderer? Of having the constant stench of death follow you wherever you went.
“I figured you wouldn’t know,” Oswald said, irritation quite apparent on his face. “Someone like you would never understand--you have never directly killed anyone.” The word ‘directly’ was heavily emphasized in his words, for Oswald knew that when he received the Belderiver from Brom the blade was indirectly draining him of life, the craftsmen wasn’t exactly as innocent as he was perceived.
Brom’s eyes flashed with anger. “You have no right to say that Oswald, I may never have ringed anyone’s neck with my own hands. But I do know what killing someone feels like. Whenever I choose another Belderiver user, knowing that I am casting a horrible death on them--it effects me greatly. I too have been unfortunate enough to see their faces--both ugly and beautiful--as I watch them sink into a pit of despair.”
This words rang loud and true, causing Oswald to flinch at his own ignorance. There was always two sides to every story--no matter how different they may have seemed.
Brom then let out a wistful sigh, closing his eyes. “Like I have said before, there isn’t much I can tell you. You’ll have to found a way to rid yourself of the dreams yourself, which I am actually quite confident in thinking you already found one. But…promise me something Oswald.”
There was a hint of seriousness in his voice that couldn’t be denied, Oswald found himself nodding without question.
“Promise me that you won’t leave Gwendolyn in the dark.”
There was a sharp inhale of breath, before Oswald shook his head, letting his hands fall into his lap. “I can’t tell her,” his voice was barely above a strained whisper. “I do not wish for her to get involved in my own problems.”
Brom looked slightly agitated by this answer, but still kept his voice firm--steady. ”What are you so afraid of Oswald? That you can not share your feelings with your own wife?” There wasn’t many things that frightened Oswald, but he could honestly say that seeing Gwendolyn in any sort of pain scared him. Like he had said before she didn’t deserve to be unhappy because of him.
“I am scared that she will only become to absorbed in my problems and be rendered insane. That is why I must do this alone, and the only way to get rid of this nightmares-- this illusions pestering me is to repent. I shall slay any evil soul that wanders this darkened earth. That way I can live in peace with Gwendolyn.”
All this words came straight from his heart--only locked away because of his own insecurities. Broom ultimately understood why Oswald wouldn‘t want Gwendolyn to know--he loved her to much and didn’t wish for his own fate to be bestowed upon her.
But that wasn’t the answer--not by a long shot. The reality was this, by remaining stoic about his own problems Oswald was causing Gwendolyn a great deal of stress. Brom could see it in the young princess’s face whenever they happened to cross paths in the hall ways.
She wanted to help, but didn’t exactly know what to do--it wasn’t her place to question her husband about anything. And that is why she remained silent in his presence, acting like the devoted wife she was, which caused a small drift in their relationship. It was something they needed to work on.
Quite tired of the discussion, Brom slapped his hands on his thighs, jumping off the bed with a loud groan.
“It seems you are quite determined in your way of thinking, so I will not waste any more effort. But please remember this Oswald..” He saw the man visibly perk up in a way that showed he was listening, the dwarf smiled. “You aren’t alone anymore, there is no need to continue to suffer like you are.”
Oswald’s narrowed his eyes at other’s words, watching the dwarf move towards the door and let it slide open. No more words were exchanged as the door slid closed, leaving the young warrior to his thoughts.
Don’t worry Oswald, she will be the one to chase away your nightmares.
**
When the night slowly began its process of encompassing the earth, Oswald found himself standing at the head of his balcony. He smiled as the cool breeze tussled the loose stands of his hair and playfully raised the hem of his shirt.
It was a peaceful scene and the presence of his wife just behind him comforted him--but at the same time made him slightly nervous. Gwendolyn was currently standing near the bed getting changed into something more formal--she too looked quite nervous as she wasn’t quite accustomed to changing in the same room as a man.
Now that they shared a room, things had gotten a lot more personal between them. But they still weren’t ready for anything like that yet. That was why out of politeness he would turn away when ever she changed and she did the same for him. It was an unspoken rule that they would await for there first time together to see each other even remotely naked.
“Oswald-sama, I am finished.” At the sound of his name he slowly turned around, catching sight of the enchanting white gown she wore and how it simple enhanced her ethereal glow. Her hair was free of any ornaments and just laid flatly against her back--a sweet smile adorning her face as she waltz towards him. His wife looked simple breath taking and he found he could not say anything to her as his eyes followed the nearly hypnotizing way her hips swayed.
When Oswald’s eyes refused to deter from where they were currently resting, Gwendolyn grew concerned.
“What is the matter Oswald-sama?” It was the sound of her voice that made him remove his eyes and turned his back to her once again.
“It’s nothing.” He said roughly, silently reprimanding himself for not being able to control his sexual urges.
Gwendolyn eased her shoulders--lower lip jutting out in a cute pout. “There you go again playing your little games.” That comment had indeed been something he didn’t expect, but it had amused him none the less. Oswald suddenly smirked, deciding he would tease her a bit.
“Am I?” He asked, turning towards her again and raising a delicate silver eyebrow--something that had caused her to blush hotly but at the same time grow more annoyed. The cute pout was still in place, but suddenly it slipped off her face without warning, leaving nothing but an air of seriousness in its wake. Oswald’s eyes widened as intense sadness flickered through Gwendolyn’s blue eyes and utter pain etched itself across her face.
“Your always playing games with me,” she continued quietly, clenching her fist. “You don’t tell me anything, and when I asked you what is wrong your response is to always say ‘It’s nothing’ like my concern means nothing to you. It hurts me deeply, knowing that you can’t tell me things.”
Oswald looked down at her, heart filled with surprise, but most of all extreme quilt. Was he being right in his actions to keep her misinformed? --Yes he had to be right it was for her own good.
“I’m sorry Gwendolyn my intentions were never to hurt you. But…I can’t tell you anything.” He told her, seeing the confusion watch across her face and the hopelessness.
“Why not?” A simple question, one that he could easily answer.
“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt, ever.” What happened next came as quite a surprise, somehow Gwendolyn had managed to close the distance between them and came crashing into his chest.
Her small arms wrapped themselves around him in a strong hug, burying her face into the fabric of his shirt. Oswald’s own hands hovered by her shoulders in uncertainty. She held him for a few tense seconds, shacking like a leaf before speaking.
“If risking my own life will save yours then I will gladly do it. I want to help you--be there for you and ensure that you are happy. I want us to be able to share our secrets with each other. That is why I can’t allow you to keep hiding from me…”
She could no longer hold her tears as they formed and ran down her cheeks. Falling in droplets on her husband’s shirt. Oswald closed his eyes and pulled her closer, letting a ghost of a kiss press itself against the top of her head. He was being a fool, in his act to protect Gwendolyn he was only bringing her pain.
“It’s the blood--the screams Gwendolyn, they won’t leave me alone.” His voice was dropped to a mere harsh whisper, his breathing growing slack.
The young women looked up, a smile quirking at the tips of her lips as she lifted a hand and let it rest on Oswald’s cheek. “It will leave you alone in time, but for now you must remember that it isn’t real. What you are seeing is nothing but a illusion--a dream manifesting itself from the deepest part of your mind. What is real now is me touching your face--and us being here together, I shall never leave you.”
She leaned up towards him, placing a small kiss on his cheek that wasn’t occupied by her caressing hand. Oswald opened his eyes, smiling as he caught her hand and kissed her knuckle, his eyes shining with pure happiness that she had never seen before.
“Shall we go to bed now,” he asked, pulling her closer to his body if that was at all humanely possible.
Gwendolyn opened her mouth to protest. “But we were just--”
“I know you probably have many questions for me Gwendolyn, but we have an entire eternity to get to know each other, there is no rush.” He smiled at her stricken face, bringing his arm down to wrap itself around her small waist as he pulled her along, founding it much more hypnotizing to hold those swaying hips then watch them. Gwendolyn simply smiled and blushed, letting her head rest against his shoulder as he led her to bed.
Oswald until this very day could never admit that old dwarf had been right. He wasn’t alone anymore--he didn‘t need to suffer anymore, there was someone with him now. Gwendolyn was willing and happy to stand there in that small space between dream and reality and lend him her hand whenever he needed it. She kept him anchored and steady through it all--and he could now say that it would ultimately be her love that saved him in the end.
Ending Notes- This one nearly killed me, and there is still some thing that probably need to be fixed still. But over--all I did like how this came out, so reviews make this tired author happy, thank you!
Author/Artist: mtakuja
Pairing: Oswald/Gwendolyn
Fandom: Odin Sphere
Theme: 6. The space between dream and reality written for 30_kisses
Disclaimer: I do not own Odin Sphere, nor do I claim to own any characters mention in this fic. This game belongs solely to Atlus and Vanillaware. I am not making a profit from writing this fanfic.
Summary: Constant dreams of blood shed often plague Oswald‘s sub-conscious mind. But Gwendolyn had always been there, standing in that small space between dream and reality, willing to lead him out of the darkness.
The feeling of unease refused to leave the sanctuary of his quivering gut. Oswald found himself tossing and turning restlessly on his bed, one strong hand fisting the silken sheets below him in an act to calm his nerves. His mind was in a current state of turbulence and no matter how hard he tried he could not gain control of his jumbled thoughts.
His thoughts laid scattered like chess pieces across the surface of his mind, tormenting his very soul with the utter darkness they contained. Resurfacing images of carnage and destruction that had laid dormant for some time now, came to life--plaguing him like an incurable disease that in turn caused him to start to slowly drift away from reality.
So much so that he often times felt like he was re-living a battle right in his own bed room--the screams of those he had killed screeching forth from his memory seemed far to real to be just a mirage. He could literally smell the stench of death that hovered over the battle field, and his old scars--long healed began to sting again as if re-opened by a blade.
These illusions, thankfully, only lasted for a few painful seconds before disappearing all together--leaving Oswald in a cold sweat that would last for hours. After composing himself, he would often shake his head at his own foolishness, chiding himself for having an over-active imagination--like some young child he knew he was not.
However; Oswald knew he would never be free of his treacherous thoughts, they would continue to taunt him until the day he would have to return to Endelphia. That was his ultimate punishment for slaying so many--because no matter how strong he was in battle no one could escape their sins. But for those who have sinned it wasn’t to late to repent and wish for a better life. Perhaps if he did some good, then these dreams and illusions would stop rotting his brain.
So in his act of redemption, Oswald had taken upon himself to dispose of those in the world who wished for power. And he had been very successful so far in his attempts, having slaughtered Skuldi of the three wise men.
That old man had done the unforgivable, stealing Gwendolyn was enough to set his blood boiling--but to use her as a tool in order to plunge the nation of Ragnanival into war with the Fire Kingdom just to get back at Odin was something that made him nearly go over the edge.
He would not allow anyone to use her like that--he promised himself this the minute he had became her husband and he knew that he could give his life just for that promise. That was part of the reason why he left so much on his missions, because there were many--like Skuldi--out there using people and obtaining power for selfish reasons.
And he always felt disgusted with himself whenever he sat within the confides of his room doing nothing, when he well knew that he could be out there doing something.
But leaving his wife, Gwendolyn behind pained him considerably--and the feeling was quite mutual on her part. Every time he would leave her with beautiful parting words, she would smile at his half turned back--gentle blue eyes holding a deep sorrow that he knew would go away if he just decided to stay with her.
It made his heart burn even more with regret when he saw Gwendolyn bow her head to him in a submissive way, allowing her silver hair to fall over her quivering shoulders. It was in a sense her own way of accepting his decision--and veiling her own sadness as she spoke, “I’ll be waiting for you. ”
Those were always the last words he would hear when he left her side.
Traveling away from her was often becoming much harder to do. He would imagine her alluring face scrunched up in pain--warm tears trailing down her face as she cried out his name in agony at night. That image was what he had to deal with when he was removing another evil soul from the world--sometimes becoming far to distracted by it for his liking.
It caused him to be clumsy in his moves, receiving injuries that was by far unnecessary. That was why Oswald found himself taking much longer to fulfill his objectives while out, which was probably the reason Gwendolyn chased after him so much.
And there was a small part of him that actually appreciated that she cared enough to come--but there was also a part that deeply hated her loyalty. Oswald did not wish for Gwendolyn to lose her life in battle over his own weaknesses.
Seeing the many cuts--bruises and signs of fatigue that marred Gwendolyn’s flawless body after rescuing him from the land of dead, left him feeling quite bitter towards himself.
If he hadn’t allowed himself to be captured, would he have spared Gwendolyn such suffering? Spared her from risking her life against the over-bearing Queen.
Oswald would not allow himself to think of life without Gwendolyn--it was sure to drive him into a pit. That was why if he could forbid it--then he would stop Gwendolyn from ever following him into the heat of battle.
His life was far more expendable then hers, she was the future queen of a nation and he nothing but a common soldier that wielded the power of darkness. Oswald’s death would amount to nothing, just one less tortured soul wandering the land. A free spirit like hers didn’t deserve to be kept in death’s embrace, her life to him was far more precious then any other living beings. And he would protect that free spirit no matter what.
Suddenly, without warning a slight knock came to the door, bringing him violently back to reality. Oswald blinked rapidly, trying to gain his ground before shouting out, “who is it?”
“Brom.” Was the simple blunt reply, the old dwarf had never made it a habit of being extremely polite in Oswald’s presence--most likely due to the fact that he was familiar with the young man and Oswald didn’t particular hold any high status. This was of course in direct contrast to the way he treated Gwendolyn with the utmost respect and courtesy.
Oswald’s crimson eyes lowered in brief disappointment, half hoping that it would be his lovely wife at the door--but that seemed nearly impossible. Gwendolyn had left his side earlier that day, telling him that she wished to go shopping out in the city today with Myris. That was about all she informed him of--and Oswald wasn’t exactly a intrusive person so he didn’t question her motives at all as he watched her leave the room with a slightly awkward expression.
“You may come in.” The warrior said in monotone, hearing the door creak open to reveal the pint-sized man on the other side. Brom entered without another word, slamming the door shut behind him with a small leg before stepping up to the giant bed--caliginous eyes catching sight of Oswald’s placid form.
The young man laid almost lifeless upon his white sheets, eyes gazing up towards the ill--lighted ceiling. One arm laid draped around his torso, while the other lay flat against his side--a pale hand clutching the sheets in a vice like grip. When Brom moved closer to the other’s side he could see the tension in Oswald’s shoulders and grew severely worried.
“What is the matter Oswald?” He asked, sitting himself on the bed while Oswald turned towards him--crimson eyes darkened with something Brom couldn’t even begin to decipher. A small grim smile was all he received as an answer as the warrior sat up on the bed, bringing one hand up to clutch at his aching head.
“It‘s nothing.” He replied, gritting his teeth against the surging pain. There was a slight tremor in his voice as he said this words which was enough to convince Brom that there was something definitely wrong. But prying answers from Oswald was like trying to get a brick wall to talk--the man always kept a tight lid over his emotions until they threatened to spill out.
In which case he would go and seek out Brom’s wisdom, but forcing him out of his comfort zone was something you just didn’t do. Oswald had an extremely short temper when provoked, and no one wished to be on the receiving end. But Brom knew he had to at least try, even if he just got yelled at in the end, this was for the sake of Oswald’s well being
“Now, there is no need to lie. I can clearly see that something is wrong.” Brom almost regretted saying such words when Oswald turned towards him and gave him a fierce glare--one hand still clutching his throbbing head. For a moment he simple glared at Brom--eyes wavering before he turned away, face softening in a look of utter defeat. A small sigh escaped his dry lips.
“Oswald….”
“I have been having nightmares lately.” Oswald finally admitted, closing his eyes. Brom looked mildly surprised that the warrior even spoke, but still nodded in understanding, awaiting what the other would say next. “This dreams seem far to real, and when I awake I can still see things in front of me. It’s frightening…and I am not sure what to do.”
The old dwarf looked down, a line creasing his brow. “Dreams of what?”
“I have been in many battles Brom and no matter how much I try to forget them, I simply can’t. The faces of those that I have killed won’t leave my mind--it’s suffocating me and making me nearly go insane.”
The tension returned to Oswald’s form and Brom for the first time was actually at a lost for words. What could he possibly say to something like that? It wasn’t like he could tell the other to just forget about it and it will pass. Things unfortunately were never that simple.
“I honestly don’t know what to tell you, Oswald.” The dwarf answered truthfully, frowning at the fact that he couldn’t be of any more help. Battle was something he was quite unaccustomed to--his old brittle bones proving to be just an hindrance towards his fighting ability.
His job was to craft jewels, he knew nothing of those that wielded them--their feelings, mind set was nothing but a big mystery to him. How would it feel to be a murderer? Of having the constant stench of death follow you wherever you went.
“I figured you wouldn’t know,” Oswald said, irritation quite apparent on his face. “Someone like you would never understand--you have never directly killed anyone.” The word ‘directly’ was heavily emphasized in his words, for Oswald knew that when he received the Belderiver from Brom the blade was indirectly draining him of life, the craftsmen wasn’t exactly as innocent as he was perceived.
Brom’s eyes flashed with anger. “You have no right to say that Oswald, I may never have ringed anyone’s neck with my own hands. But I do know what killing someone feels like. Whenever I choose another Belderiver user, knowing that I am casting a horrible death on them--it effects me greatly. I too have been unfortunate enough to see their faces--both ugly and beautiful--as I watch them sink into a pit of despair.”
This words rang loud and true, causing Oswald to flinch at his own ignorance. There was always two sides to every story--no matter how different they may have seemed.
Brom then let out a wistful sigh, closing his eyes. “Like I have said before, there isn’t much I can tell you. You’ll have to found a way to rid yourself of the dreams yourself, which I am actually quite confident in thinking you already found one. But…promise me something Oswald.”
There was a hint of seriousness in his voice that couldn’t be denied, Oswald found himself nodding without question.
“Promise me that you won’t leave Gwendolyn in the dark.”
There was a sharp inhale of breath, before Oswald shook his head, letting his hands fall into his lap. “I can’t tell her,” his voice was barely above a strained whisper. “I do not wish for her to get involved in my own problems.”
Brom looked slightly agitated by this answer, but still kept his voice firm--steady. ”What are you so afraid of Oswald? That you can not share your feelings with your own wife?” There wasn’t many things that frightened Oswald, but he could honestly say that seeing Gwendolyn in any sort of pain scared him. Like he had said before she didn’t deserve to be unhappy because of him.
“I am scared that she will only become to absorbed in my problems and be rendered insane. That is why I must do this alone, and the only way to get rid of this nightmares-- this illusions pestering me is to repent. I shall slay any evil soul that wanders this darkened earth. That way I can live in peace with Gwendolyn.”
All this words came straight from his heart--only locked away because of his own insecurities. Broom ultimately understood why Oswald wouldn‘t want Gwendolyn to know--he loved her to much and didn’t wish for his own fate to be bestowed upon her.
But that wasn’t the answer--not by a long shot. The reality was this, by remaining stoic about his own problems Oswald was causing Gwendolyn a great deal of stress. Brom could see it in the young princess’s face whenever they happened to cross paths in the hall ways.
She wanted to help, but didn’t exactly know what to do--it wasn’t her place to question her husband about anything. And that is why she remained silent in his presence, acting like the devoted wife she was, which caused a small drift in their relationship. It was something they needed to work on.
Quite tired of the discussion, Brom slapped his hands on his thighs, jumping off the bed with a loud groan.
“It seems you are quite determined in your way of thinking, so I will not waste any more effort. But please remember this Oswald..” He saw the man visibly perk up in a way that showed he was listening, the dwarf smiled. “You aren’t alone anymore, there is no need to continue to suffer like you are.”
Oswald’s narrowed his eyes at other’s words, watching the dwarf move towards the door and let it slide open. No more words were exchanged as the door slid closed, leaving the young warrior to his thoughts.
Don’t worry Oswald, she will be the one to chase away your nightmares.
**
When the night slowly began its process of encompassing the earth, Oswald found himself standing at the head of his balcony. He smiled as the cool breeze tussled the loose stands of his hair and playfully raised the hem of his shirt.
It was a peaceful scene and the presence of his wife just behind him comforted him--but at the same time made him slightly nervous. Gwendolyn was currently standing near the bed getting changed into something more formal--she too looked quite nervous as she wasn’t quite accustomed to changing in the same room as a man.
Now that they shared a room, things had gotten a lot more personal between them. But they still weren’t ready for anything like that yet. That was why out of politeness he would turn away when ever she changed and she did the same for him. It was an unspoken rule that they would await for there first time together to see each other even remotely naked.
“Oswald-sama, I am finished.” At the sound of his name he slowly turned around, catching sight of the enchanting white gown she wore and how it simple enhanced her ethereal glow. Her hair was free of any ornaments and just laid flatly against her back--a sweet smile adorning her face as she waltz towards him. His wife looked simple breath taking and he found he could not say anything to her as his eyes followed the nearly hypnotizing way her hips swayed.
When Oswald’s eyes refused to deter from where they were currently resting, Gwendolyn grew concerned.
“What is the matter Oswald-sama?” It was the sound of her voice that made him remove his eyes and turned his back to her once again.
“It’s nothing.” He said roughly, silently reprimanding himself for not being able to control his sexual urges.
Gwendolyn eased her shoulders--lower lip jutting out in a cute pout. “There you go again playing your little games.” That comment had indeed been something he didn’t expect, but it had amused him none the less. Oswald suddenly smirked, deciding he would tease her a bit.
“Am I?” He asked, turning towards her again and raising a delicate silver eyebrow--something that had caused her to blush hotly but at the same time grow more annoyed. The cute pout was still in place, but suddenly it slipped off her face without warning, leaving nothing but an air of seriousness in its wake. Oswald’s eyes widened as intense sadness flickered through Gwendolyn’s blue eyes and utter pain etched itself across her face.
“Your always playing games with me,” she continued quietly, clenching her fist. “You don’t tell me anything, and when I asked you what is wrong your response is to always say ‘It’s nothing’ like my concern means nothing to you. It hurts me deeply, knowing that you can’t tell me things.”
Oswald looked down at her, heart filled with surprise, but most of all extreme quilt. Was he being right in his actions to keep her misinformed? --Yes he had to be right it was for her own good.
“I’m sorry Gwendolyn my intentions were never to hurt you. But…I can’t tell you anything.” He told her, seeing the confusion watch across her face and the hopelessness.
“Why not?” A simple question, one that he could easily answer.
“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt, ever.” What happened next came as quite a surprise, somehow Gwendolyn had managed to close the distance between them and came crashing into his chest.
Her small arms wrapped themselves around him in a strong hug, burying her face into the fabric of his shirt. Oswald’s own hands hovered by her shoulders in uncertainty. She held him for a few tense seconds, shacking like a leaf before speaking.
“If risking my own life will save yours then I will gladly do it. I want to help you--be there for you and ensure that you are happy. I want us to be able to share our secrets with each other. That is why I can’t allow you to keep hiding from me…”
She could no longer hold her tears as they formed and ran down her cheeks. Falling in droplets on her husband’s shirt. Oswald closed his eyes and pulled her closer, letting a ghost of a kiss press itself against the top of her head. He was being a fool, in his act to protect Gwendolyn he was only bringing her pain.
“It’s the blood--the screams Gwendolyn, they won’t leave me alone.” His voice was dropped to a mere harsh whisper, his breathing growing slack.
The young women looked up, a smile quirking at the tips of her lips as she lifted a hand and let it rest on Oswald’s cheek. “It will leave you alone in time, but for now you must remember that it isn’t real. What you are seeing is nothing but a illusion--a dream manifesting itself from the deepest part of your mind. What is real now is me touching your face--and us being here together, I shall never leave you.”
She leaned up towards him, placing a small kiss on his cheek that wasn’t occupied by her caressing hand. Oswald opened his eyes, smiling as he caught her hand and kissed her knuckle, his eyes shining with pure happiness that she had never seen before.
“Shall we go to bed now,” he asked, pulling her closer to his body if that was at all humanely possible.
Gwendolyn opened her mouth to protest. “But we were just--”
“I know you probably have many questions for me Gwendolyn, but we have an entire eternity to get to know each other, there is no rush.” He smiled at her stricken face, bringing his arm down to wrap itself around her small waist as he pulled her along, founding it much more hypnotizing to hold those swaying hips then watch them. Gwendolyn simply smiled and blushed, letting her head rest against his shoulder as he led her to bed.
Oswald until this very day could never admit that old dwarf had been right. He wasn’t alone anymore--he didn‘t need to suffer anymore, there was someone with him now. Gwendolyn was willing and happy to stand there in that small space between dream and reality and lend him her hand whenever he needed it. She kept him anchored and steady through it all--and he could now say that it would ultimately be her love that saved him in the end.
Ending Notes- This one nearly killed me, and there is still some thing that probably need to be fixed still. But over--all I did like how this came out, so reviews make this tired author happy, thank you!