“I don't – damn it, Liriel, do you think this is easy for me? That I want this? That I wanted anything other than the few years left to me spent with the woman I love??” He was looking at her now, glaring at her in fury, but his eyes weren't cold like they usually were when he was angry. The numbness from him was gone but the fury, hate, loathing, despair, bitterness and grief were no comfort. “But I can't have that, because my godsdamn in-laws turned up and ruined everything and now you can barely look at me without seeing my tombstone. So yes, perhaps we're better off divorced and away from each other, and you can hate me instead of loving me, and when I finally do die, at least you'll be pleased!”
Liriel couldn't stop the howl of grief as he said the words. He couldn't do this... she was the bloody Dragonborn... he owed her his country and freedom... pleased?? Pleased??
“I will never be indifferent to you,” she whispered, the words coming out more vicious than she'd planned.
“It's easier to mourn someone you hate,” Madanach said bitterly. “Trust me on that.”
The truly sad thing was, she couldn't even bring herself to do that. She'd been privy to what others rarely saw – a king with the robes and the crown off, just dozing next to her or shaving or waking up first thing in the morning and looking adorably confused, as if he wasn't sure if he was still dreaming or not, or turning their bedroom over as he called to her if she'd seen something of his. Little things that made a marriage, and the memories of holding him in her arms after sex and seeing him vulnerable, something very few others ever saw.
He was her Reachman, and he always would be, the stupid bastard. But that didn't mean she wasn't angry. Reaching for her left hand, she wrenched the wedding ring off and threw it at him, feeling vaguely pleased as it hit his cheek, the diamond drawing blood. Madanach cursed, a hand to his face, magic already flaring but it didn't erase the blood from his fingers.
“All correspondence to my housecarl Jordis or via Argis,” Liriel snapped, shoving her grief behind a facade of cold disdain. “Don't contact me yourself. I'm taking the girls to Solitude, you can write to them, and see them when you visit Lirela. But you stay away from me. You. Stay. Away!”
Liriel didn't even dare look at him. It was taking all her self-control not to cry or beg or plead with him, and had she but realised it, if she'd done all that, if she'd kissed him and screamed at him he wasn't allowed to, she wasn't leaving... he'd probably have cracked, broken, kissed her back, said he was sorry for everything, for ruining her life, but please not to go, he loved her. And if he'd done that, they'd likely have taken the conversation somewhere more private, cried, talked, ended up in bed and emerged the better for it, all ready to tell Liriel's parents where to go. But Madanach couldn't say the words and Liriel was too proud to... and things went in a very different direction.
~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: See? Crying! Oh Madanach, you really are a bit dim sometimes. Give him a political, magical or military problem and he's all over it but ask him to deal with relationship troubles and he falls apart completely. Next chapter, things go from bad to worse as Liriel goes to speak to her parents.
Re: Thicker Than Blood 6.10
Liriel couldn't stop the howl of grief as he said the words. He couldn't do this... she was the bloody Dragonborn... he owed her his country and freedom... pleased?? Pleased??
“I will never be indifferent to you,” she whispered, the words coming out more vicious than she'd planned.
“It's easier to mourn someone you hate,” Madanach said bitterly. “Trust me on that.”
The truly sad thing was, she couldn't even bring herself to do that. She'd been privy to what others rarely saw – a king with the robes and the crown off, just dozing next to her or shaving or waking up first thing in the morning and looking adorably confused, as if he wasn't sure if he was still dreaming or not, or turning their bedroom over as he called to her if she'd seen something of his. Little things that made a marriage, and the memories of holding him in her arms after sex and seeing him vulnerable, something very few others ever saw.
He was her Reachman, and he always would be, the stupid bastard. But that didn't mean she wasn't angry. Reaching for her left hand, she wrenched the wedding ring off and threw it at him, feeling vaguely pleased as it hit his cheek, the diamond drawing blood. Madanach cursed, a hand to his face, magic already flaring but it didn't erase the blood from his fingers.
“All correspondence to my housecarl Jordis or via Argis,” Liriel snapped, shoving her grief behind a facade of cold disdain. “Don't contact me yourself. I'm taking the girls to Solitude, you can write to them, and see them when you visit Lirela. But you stay away from me. You. Stay. Away!”
Liriel didn't even dare look at him. It was taking all her self-control not to cry or beg or plead with him, and had she but realised it, if she'd done all that, if she'd kissed him and screamed at him he wasn't allowed to, she wasn't leaving... he'd probably have cracked, broken, kissed her back, said he was sorry for everything, for ruining her life, but please not to go, he loved her. And if he'd done that, they'd likely have taken the conversation somewhere more private, cried, talked, ended up in bed and emerged the better for it, all ready to tell Liriel's parents where to go. But Madanach couldn't say the words and Liriel was too proud to... and things went in a very different direction.
~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: See? Crying! Oh Madanach, you really are a bit dim sometimes. Give him a political, magical or military problem and he's all over it but ask him to deal with relationship troubles and he falls apart completely. Next chapter, things go from bad to worse as Liriel goes to speak to her parents.