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chaos_silkTitle: Awakening the Flames
Fandom: Legend of Dragoon.
Rating: T
Pairing: Implied Lloyd/Dart, Lavitz/Dart. Current Albert & Dart
Warnings: The after effects of long-term mind control.
Summary: Post-game. Dart breaks free and remembers. There’s nothing about his current life that isn’t horrifying.
Notes: Another batch of headcanons masquerading as a fic. Direct sequel to the day before’s.
One moment, Dart is wholeheartedly, head-over-heels in love with Shana and the next he is horrified. He remembers it all. His journey, his achievements, the friends he made before. The loves he had before.
He pulls out the Divine Dragoon Spirit and stares into it like it would somehow enlighten him as to how it came to this. He remembers that night in the forest. Remembers how he wanted it to progress to something more, something that never came.
Remembers how he exclusively and enthusiastically prefers men.
His stomach roils, his skin crawling. He wants to scrub every inch of himself until he bleeds. The knowledge feels like a violation. His entire world shatters and then is remade. He hears Shana moving around in the other room, humming a soft tune to herself.
“She’s my sister,” he says, fighting the urge to vomit all over the place. He puts the spirit back and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and silently screams. “She’s a baby.” Because to him, she is and always will be the little bundle of joy that was dropped into his arms after his adoption.
His only saving grace is: they hadn’t gone all the way—though not for lack of trying. Dart’s body never got with the program. It remembered, even if his mind was wiped clean.
He remembers Lavitz and the touches that were there but not quite there. Intent, affection. What could have been and then suddenly—suddenly Lavitz was pushing him towards Shana as hard as he could. Despite his protests, despite the camaraderie they shared when they were alone at the inn.
The almost kisses, almost confessions, the pointed looks and touches. He aches as he remembers, grieving all over again. Lavitz was interested. Dart mourns what could have been almost as much as he mourns his friend.
Something thunks in the other room and bile rises in his throat. He can’t do this. He can’t live another minute of this lie. Not with his baby sister.
He takes one last look around the room, realizes he wants none of this. There’s not a single item in this house—aside from the clothes on his back, his sword and his dragoon spirit—that he would keep. He squares his shoulders and walks out of Shana’s life, quietly shutting the door behind him as he leaves.
He finds himself at the castle, looking and feeling very much like what the cat dragged in. A maid takes one look at him and he’s suddenly and violently sequestered in the King’s quarters. He lies on the bed and waits for Albert’s return.
He feels like a puppet whose strings have finally been cut, a rag that’s been wrung dry and tossed aside. His insides were scooped clean and refilled with what Shana wanted him to be; her brave lover, the lone wolf who dove headfirst into danger as soon as she was in trouble. He stares at the canopy above the bed, eyes unseeing.
He forces his thoughts to still. What happened had already happened, there was no changing that. What mattered now was what he was going to do next. He had options. He could just disappear.
He lies there and tries not to think. Instead, he falls asleep.
He wakes to fingers combing softly through his hair. When he opens his eyes, Albert is seated on the bed beside him, stroking his hair as he watches him sleep. It’s so comforting that Dart finds his eyes closing of their own accord.
“When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here,” Albert says softly, not questioning, not pushing. Dart shudders, curling in on himself.
“Albert,” he says, voice breaking. “She’s my sister.” Albert’s hand stills for a moment, then resumes.
“Oh,” he says, and it sounds like the sun breaking over the horizon. “You’ve woken up.”
“You knew?” Dart asks, opening his eyes to peer over his shoulder at him. Albert shakes his head, a melancholy look on his face.
“I guessed,” he says. “Lavitz spoke about you when he returned to Bale. He said you were cute, that the two of you really clicked. Imagine my surprise when the next report I got was all about how you and Shana were bonding and how much he was rooting for you two.”
“Then I was swept up in it,”—it being their journey, or Shana’s power, or some melding of the two. “I suppose the rest of us should be grateful that the only thing Shana wanted was you.”
What do you say to that? What can you say to that? Dart feels empty, a wave of exhaustion sweeps over him and he closes his eyes.
“Dart, you deserve to be happy,” Albert says softly. “Get some sleep, I’ll be here in the morning.”
