Title: Wake Up
Rating: Teen
Characters: Amarant Coral, SIr Fratley, Freya Crescent, OC.
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Slice of Life.
Originally posted on Fanfiction.net and Archive Of Your Own (AO3).
Summary: Fratley Irontail wants peace for his soul. By the next morning, Amarant Coral will be sober, or dead. A story about two men, walking on the same path, destined to confront each other once again, one woman they loved, one daughter that needs to be loved.
Inspired by Thirteen Ways To Say Goodnight
Warning: Contais some disturbing imagery, swearing and character's death. Otherwise, hope you enjoy the reading.
Luck... It can save a life, or destroy one in the process.
And you can't fight it, no matter how strong you are.
Freya Crescent...
Each time I remember her, she stays alive. But, no matter how much you have, it ain't enough. You were willing to gave her a cure, while you had already filled in her life of your poison.
She'll never forgive me. She's gone.
—Wake Up—
No, don't think about what's ruined and lost. Think about the details.
Think about Lindblum's wind, how it carries the scent of pine and rose out a funeral store up there. Pine and rose... How I'd like to be buried in a grave filled with these.
Think about the mourness, contempt and grief underneath. Even the clouds look so sad, so dark and morbid to watch. A storm is about to crash, but it never does. It's afraid of doing what's of itw own nature. It never cared for the trees it burned, why would it care about doing any harm right now? There's nothing left for me in this city. Nothing, but revenge. No, don't say that. Think about how details live in detail. Oil, grease, coffee, sweat, tar, anything that comes from below. From normal people.
Look at these, passing by as if the world never ended before them. As if those windows haven't broken and cut their kids in a half. As if roots and seeds of evil haven't sprouted once at the middle of the street.
And they never did. They never cared. Why should I? It was all a dream. I know it was not, so do Freya. She was the woman of dreams, not only mine. She could jump heights, right? But always landed on the same floor instead of flying away. Fly away, like the dove. Hair white as a dove, falling each day. I might be crazy. Crazy ain't the best of words, but fits. Another one of these nights spent without closing your eyes, for sure. It's easy to blame something, someone other than you... you have power, enough to fool yourself to make the rest feel better. The rest be damned. She cared for the rest, was born in a land of rests.. damn! Each time of the day, these thoughts come back to you. They're back, so what? I share the only size of a double bed. Soon as you roll to the other side, you still remain empty.
...I can't take it anymore. It's time.