#i've just been thinking about this moment alog

[lilyharvord]

Until the End

Summary:

I've been thinking about the entire Harbor Bay arc in War Storm for weeks now, and decided that there absolutely was a missing scene. So here it is, exactly what I think comes after that little fade to black when Mare slips into the room and Evangeline drops her off like a parent leaving their child for kindergarten. :)))

Notes:

I feel terrible that it's taking me soooo damn long to get the next chapter of the chain done. So I pulled this out from my drafts folder since it was 99% finished and gifted it to you all. It's unedited because of that, but consider it a little something something to apologize for taking so long with chapter 14 of the Chain.

Also if you could give it a little love on AO3 too I’d appreciate it ((: Link

Choosing not to choose.

She almost laughs at the words. Only he would say something so evasive and politic. It’s his style to avoid the truth at all costs, pretend they are anyone other than who they are. As if choice is a luxury they are not privy to, as if he did not make a choice weeks ago that tore her heart from her chest.

Even now, the memory cuts her to the bone. The brush of his hand along her neck, and the trail of his fingers through her hair eases the ache, reminding her why she even followed Evangeline to this room in the first place. He never judged her, never held her own choices against her. It makes it easy to always fall back against him. He is always a safe harbor she can find refuge in, a means of hiding from the truth they both are dancing around in this moment.

In the light, he still looks pale and drawn. He doesn’t wear his exhaustion as aesthetically as Maven. His makes him rugged, cracking the façade he wears like the crown on his head. That monstrosity is nowhere to be seen now, and without it in the picture she can almost forget that he chose that over her. Over her brother’s life and everything Shade had stood for.

Even with all that mounted against him, the sight of him still burns a fire in her stomach, and turns her innards molten. Every brush of his fingers along her skin drives her a little closer to the brink. The rest of the armor needs to go, and so does the thin undershirt. After seeing his skin grey on the sand, she wants to tear every last barrier down, just so she can rest a hand above his heart and feel it’s reassuring beat. Whether or not he lets her is another matter.

Mare Barrow has always been a thief though, so when she claims his mouth with hers, it is a stolen moment, pickpocketed along with the breath he exhales.

He doesn’t stop her. His hands trail along her back until they find her hips, and with a decisive tug, he pulls her flush against his body. Be rough, she almost whispers, grab on until I bruise, bite my lip, bruise it, squeeze me into one piece so I can feel whole again. She knows he’s strong enough to do it, that when he really wants to, he can show her just how much he loves her.

Knotting a hand in his hair, she pulls to lift herself up an inch more, keeping the kiss as her teeth catch his lip. Underneath her palm she imagine his heart pounds as he finally grabs fistfuls of her shirt and digs his fingers into her skin.

Panting he grabs her face instead, and immediately her hair falls out of the messy braid she threw it in. It’s a battle as much as any they’ve fought before, and she is determined to be on top in the end.

“Tell me you want this.” He pants as he cups her face, lifting it so she drowns in his eyes. Burning ore, fire made flesh, his gaze could burn her alive, but it never does. It holds her steady, warms her core until all she wants is him, the smell of him, the feeling of his hips meeting hers. All of him, she wants all of him, even the parts she loathes.

“I want you.” Mare breaths, running her fingers through his hair, shorn a little shorter than normal to correct the haircut he’d given himself. What she wouldn’t give to have it be the length it had been at the Notch. What she wouldn’t give to go back to him being that person instead of this. Closing her eyes and standing on tip toe, she rests her forehead against his. “I want Cal.”

His eyes burn, and a fluttering uncertainty crosses those lovely irises before Mare slides back down, dragging her hands along his body. The armor is beautiful and cold, a testament to what he is supposed to be. He’s never been that though, even in the times when she believed he was.

Tracing the grooves and dents left from the siege, she follows her fingers with her eyes. If she were to look up now, she would kiss him again and drown in him. With gentle hands, she finger the buckles, twisting her lips at the unnecessary complexity. “Without all of this.”

His fingers find hers, brushing along the skin of her hands. Finally, she looks up, only to meet his eye. The fire in them darkens, and with a scrape of leather the buckles come undone. The space between their bodies is so tight, for a moment, Mare wonders how he will be able to remove the thing. But he’s taken it on and off so many times, it slides over his head with ease, leaving him vulnerable before her.

The heat from his skin washes over her, finally free from the dam holding it back. His inhale is ragged when she traces his ribs. Glancing up through her lashes, Mare tilts her head to the side a fraction. “Sore?”

“They were fractured.” He murmurs in reply before dropping his lips to kiss her temple. The barely there touch and his exhales make her flutter her eyes closed. He continued to explore her face with his lips while she gently helps the gauntlets off his wrists, and removes the belt with that useless sword. He never had need for the thing, it’s all ceremonial, but it’s a pomp and circumstance that she hates.  

“Want me to make them feel better?” She whispers as the belt clatters to the floor with the sword. He steps beyond it, forcing her back a half step to give him room. She almost stumbles, but his arm around his waist keeps her upright and pulled tightly to him. He captures her lips again, and becomes the thief when he inhales her gasp.

When he breaks away, his eyes are dark, the pupils so dilated they almost swallow that lovely amber. “I want you.” He repeats her words from earlier, his fingers flexing in her shirt as if he wants to tear it to pieces and is only barely holding back.

“Then have me.” Her words are an exhale against his lips as she arches against him. The last of the tension in his body melts like candlewax as he shifts his hold to put her on her feet completely. His mouth claims hers once again, and he surges forward, laying claim to her just like they did with the city beyond the balcony doors. It’s part violent passion, part regretful tactics. Her fingers knot in his hair on instinct, and for a heartbeat she can taste the salt of he bay still on his lips.

“I hate you,” She whispers to him, and earns a panicked glance. Tracing his jaw with a finger, she observes the lines of his face, imagining what he might look like years from now if they even live that long. “But I love you all the same too.” He will only become more handsome as he ages, Mare decides. At least Evangeline will have something pretty to look at.

His face falls, and the next kiss he gives her is a half apology. It lingers, and he pours every emotion in it. She catches the after taste of his regret as he pulls away to cup her face and caress her cheeks with his thumbs. His eyes slide closed as he rests his forehead on hers. Maybe he thinks he can hold this moment forever, polish it like a coin to store for when she is long gone. If it wasn’t obvious already, when this is finished, she will vanish and be nothing more than a fever dream for him to wake gasping from some day. For a heartbeat, her own regret over saying anything at all mixes with his.

“I’m—”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off before he can say anything else. Cradling his hands with hers, she leans into his touch, closing her eyes. If she does that she can imagine they are back in Piedmont in his bunk room or in the glen. “We both know the truth.”

When she opens her eyes, his expression is neutral. But she’s known him long enough to see the emotions hidden behind the curtain. Dropping his forehead to rest it against hers, he exhales slowly.

“Then I won’t. But I never lied to you. I want you more than anything in this world… and I—I love you Mare.”

“Please don’t.” She pleads with him, treading a hand through his hair, and tugging so that he opens his eyes again. “Please.” She breathes the word this time, and he swallows. Her heart aches in her chest, even as it relaxes in his grip.

His hands fall from her face to her shoulders and then her hips. She turns her eyes to the ceiling painted like a sunset. Tears want to gather, tears of exhaustion after the battle, tears of relief over Kilorn, tears of regret that she’s here and not there with him, tears of anger that she still loves this man after what he did, and tears of true misery that he is the one that lit the match and burned the bridge between them.

His hands squeeze her hips, and she finally drops her chin only to watch him sink to his knees before her. He looks up at her reverently as his hands cup the back of her legs to keep her from running. Looking down at him, she can see the light cutting across his face differently. He’s still so young, and so is she. Can she really fault him for the decision he made? He’s only ever known one path for his life, and so has she. Can he fault her for hers? Can she really hate him for choosing what he knows and understands?

The words clog her throat, choking her. Yes, she can, and she can’t. He’s been brave before, even in the face of true fear. He could have trusted her, been brave enough to stay by her side and trust Farley and Dane. He made his choice, and right now they are dancing around that choice.

“I will only ever love you, for the rest of my life.” He whispers before resting his forehead against her stomach and pressing his lips to the tiny bit of skin he exposed on her hip. She stands frozen with the weight of his admission. The tension in her body is unmistakable, the hitch in her breath impossible to hide. But then she melts against him, and a single tear manages to escape as she closes her eyes. Knotting her fingers in his hair, she curls around him, lets him press delicate kisses against her skin; each one like a delicate flower blooming.

“Let’s—let’s pretend for a little bit. I want to pretend.” She hates her weakness, and that her knees buckle into his grip when he looks up at her again. His face falls when he sees the tears leaving trails down her cheeks. Reaching up, he wipes them away, barely brushing his skin against her own.

They remain in silence as they have always been: a future king on his knees before the Red girl that brought him to them numerous times before.

“What do you want to pretend?” He asks her.

“That there was never a choice made at all.” The words are coated in her tears, and they fall from his lips like shards of glass and honey at the same time. They burn her throat and she half regrets them.

The silence stretches, almost longer than she can stand. But then he rises slowly, bringing one of her hands up to kiss her palm and her fingers. “What choice?” He asks, playing the part and stepping into the game with her.

When she kisses him this time, it’s soft, gentler than any kiss they’ve had before. He slides a hand down and crouches just enough to lift her off the ground. Without breaking away from him, she wraps her legs around his waist, the salt of her tears mixing with their kiss.

He carries her to the bed like she weighs nothing, and with careful movements, he lays her down among the silk and sheets. With her eyes closed, Mare can pretend, she can imaging there was no choice, that they are simply two people in the world that found relief with each other. Squeezing his hips with her knees, she sighs as he slides on top of her, and rests his weight on her. His fingers grip her thigh and he squeezes as he rocks against her tentatively, testing the pace and the timing.

“Tell me you love me.” She breathes between kisses, and runs her fingers up along his sides, counting his ribs and sliding her knuckles into the contours of his back.

“I love you.” He whispers, pressing a kiss against her lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.” Another kiss against her collarbone.

“Again.”

“I love you.” His hand slides under her shirt and lifts it to her neck so he can kiss her sternum.

“Once more.”

“I love you.” She drops her arms above her head so he can remove her shirt effortlessly and slide down to press a kiss against her stomach. Slipping her hands underneath the collar of his shirt next, she trails her fingers along his burning skin there. His teeth nip at the skin of her hip, before he leaves a kiss behind as an apology. Her belt goes next, and without breaking contact with her skin, he slides her pants off. His lips trail her thigh, and pause to kiss the inside of her knee as he guides them both over his shoulders.

“I love you.” He breaths against the inside of her thigh, before dropping between her legs completely.

Mare exhales in a silent gasp, her nails digging into the skin behind his neck. His fingers curl around her hips as she bucks when his tongue finds the most sensitive spot she has. Holding her down, he continues, whispering those same words as he works.

By now, he’s a master of his craft with her, and she grabs his hair to pull him back up before she can finish. His eyes lock with hers, shinning in the dusk. Panting, she trails her fingers along his jaw, and then his lips, memorizing the feel of them.

His lips quirk up in the smallest of smiles before leaving one more kiss on the inside of her thigh. Resting his cheek there, he closes his eyes and says, “Say my name, just one more time.”

She’s almost spiteful, almost calls him that disgusting excuse for a name. It’s what he chose, but because it’s part of the game, and he is playing so well, she sits up and forces him to sit as well. Resting a hand against his chest, she slides onto her knees to stand above him once more. A warm breeze off the ocean cools the sweat on her back, and shifts her hair so that the strands whisper across his face. She drops a kiss between his brows, and he closes his eyes as she rests her lips there.

“Cal,” she breathes against his skin. She doesn’t even have to think about it, the name comes as natural as it always has. “Cal,” she says it again as she tilts his head up to meet her eye when he shivers at her gentle touch. He pulls her into his lap, his expression and composure crumbling.

“Mare.” He echoes her sentiment, craning to kiss her and pull her against him completely. His voice breaks on her name, like a wave on the shore. When she cups his face again, she feels the hot tears running in long trails down his face.

“Love me like you did in the glen.” She whispers against his temple. If she could go back there, she would trade anything. And in her heart of hearts, she hopes he feels the same way. Maybe he would, Evangeline seemed too confident that the events would tumble in this direction after she left Mare here. She must have seen or heard something, and if she had, there might be hope still. Smash that thought to pieces, Mare closes her eyes and banishes any other thoughts like it. Hope was a dangerous thing, her father warned her about it months ago. She understands it now. Before, she’d never had a chance to hope, now, she knows the sting of losing it.

His hands soften their grip on her hips and he shifts her to reach behind his head and pull his shirt off. Throwing it to the side, he remove the bracelets next, tossing them unceremoniously in the same direction. They clatters on the marble floor, but he ignores the sound, his eyes never leaving her face. “Thank my colors for the rain.” He says with a small smile before lifting up to his knees and kissing her again.

She laughs, the sound real and warm. It fills her chest and lights the space between them. Dropping her fingers to the buttons on his pants, she undoes them with ease, smiling against his lips the whole time. This is her last chance to turn back, to remember her vow to let them all kill each other. She made it for a reason. But in this moment, she can’t quite remember it.

“Will you love me like you did then?” He murmurs against her shoulder where he presses light kisses against the scars creeping toward her neck.

“Yes.” Her answer is immediate, dangerously so. He doesn’t’ comment though, just helps her remove his pants before lifting her up into his lap again. Straddling one of his thighs, she rolls his hips, feeling the exhale he releases along her jaw. Shifting to drag her legs open and completely straddle him, she settles against him, relaxing into his hands as they settle on her hips.

“I’m going to tell you a secret you will take to your grave.” She murmurs against his ear, and he shivers at the cadence of her voice at the same time that he nods in understanding. The truth had been bubbling up in her throat for the past few minutes. In this position, she can actually admit it without it feeling like stabbing a knife in everyone else’s backs.

Resting her lips against the curve of his ear, she exhales softly before whispering it to him. “I haven’t stopped loving you, and that is the hardest part of all of this.”

The breath he’d held released in a sharp exhale that pained even her heart. Shifting, she rolls her hips one more time, before guiding one of his hands to her chest. Immediately his thumb began to rub slow circles on her skin, tightening the radius until she groaned softly.

Without a word, he lifted her hips just enough to guide her. Even as she sank down, and whimpered his name, he didn’t reply to her words. They both knew there was nothing else to say, nothing could change what had happened. For a short while though, they could pretend, simply exist as whatever they wanted to be. They could have everything they wanted, walk two paths at the same time and still be within reach of the other.

This was so much gentler than any time before. The glen had been different, a frenzy of movement and passion spurred on by the storm raging over head. The bunk room had been different, with its tight quarters and stifling humid heat. Then they had felt like they were running out of time. This place though, this moment, existed somewhere else. It could last for eternity or it could last for a few minutes. And every movement, every touch cemented that fact.

His hands continues to trail along her skin, his fingers digging into the skin of her back at the same time that hers pressed into his shoulders. She squeezed her thighs around his hips when he found the right tempo and angle, her breath catching for a moment as she closes her eyes and lets her lips trail along his temple.

With a sigh, and a whisper of the silk sheets, he lays her down among the blankets again. She let him with relief, let him control the pace and the tempo of the gentle rocking. She didn’t dig her nails in like she used too, or rush him, or demand to be in control by flipping over to be on top. He practically worshiped her though, laying kisses all over her skin, and running his hands along every inch he could find.

“As long as we’re telling secrets,” he whispers against her jaw finally, never losing pace. “Let me tell you one.”

Panting weakly as her insides tighten and she begins to approach her climax, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back to expose her throat to him. He immediately rests a kiss against the spot where her pulse pounds. He dragged his lips up to her ear and squeezing one of her hips so tightly she half expects to bruise right that second, he whispers, “I regret it, every second I am apart from you. Every time I look at you, I want to take it back.”

Her back arches and she whines as he thrusts just a little deeper and tugs on her earlobe with his teeth. “I still want you. Every second of every day. I want you so badly it aches, Mare.” He pants against her temple, his jaw tightening so the words almost don’t escape.

She feels his muscles tighten in his shoulders as he shudders against her, at the same time that she gasps and finally digs her nails into his skin to anchor herself. They lay panting for a moment, and she took that eternally long moment to just listen and revel in his heartbeat. Tears burn down her cheeks again, painting her lips with salt. She almost lost him on that beach today. As she stood there praying and bargaining with whatever gods may still listen, she realized a horrible truth. She couldn’t lose him. Everything she had done, from demanding he be spared at the end, to rushing from New Town to Harbor Bay had been because of this indescribable truth. In a strange way, he completed her. Complimented her and matched her. She didn’t believe in soul mates, and she still didn’t. But this, this went beyond that, beyond the universe and everything it contained. She could not lose him, and that is why, she knows when the times comes to leave him completely, it will destroy her.

It’s a mutual, silent agreement when he pulls away and falls among the blankets. Without a thought, she rolls, putting her back to him at the same time that he bands his arm around her waist. His heart pounds against her shoulder blade, and she lets the most simple sound in the world lull her to sleep as his pulse slows.

“Stay with me, until the end?” He whispers against her shoulder, when the sun has finally kissed the horizon and the shadows have stretched over the bed. She slides her hand along his forearm to interlace their fingers. For a moment, she debates breaking the rules of their little game, ruining the mirage. Instead, she brings his hand up to kiss it.

“Until the very end.”