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unnamed drabble 02
the expression on their face is familiar enough – that cocky, confident smirk uriel wears whenever they outwit vero in bed or on the battlefield. vero isn’t sure if he’s come to love or hate that curl of their lips, but right now it’s something he wants to latch onto. a sense of “i’m pissed at you because you are doing stupid shit again, but you’re undeniably uriel.”
but the look in their eyes is cold, cruel, unforgiving, and he can’t help but flinch when they stare down at him like a cat who knows beyond a doubt that they’ve caught their prey. it’s not them, he tries to convince himself, but he can’t deny that the person with his life in their hands looks exactly like the assassin he’s grown to trust.
uriel, wake up, he wants to scream, but the only sound that comes out is a strangled cry as uriel stomps hard on one of their knives, driving it deeper into his palm. there’s always been something off about uriel, a lack of regard for life, but never, never would he have expected something like this.
a tactician can only plan for what they think is conceivable – having uriel turn on him like this, to have them admit to murdering chrom with complete indifference and then say they’ll kill him, too… the pain searing from his hands and various lacerations on his body constantly draw him back into reality, to uriel’s red-tinted eyes, and the laughter that’s strange to his ears.
“uriel…” a thought crosses vero’s mind. his hands. if only he could move his hands, maybe he could turn things around. tip the scales in his favor. he doesn’t want to think about it, but –
“you’ve failed.” uriel says quietly, as though sensing vero’s thoughts. they drag a knife slowly down the middle of his chest, cleanly cutting through his sorcerer’s outfit. (in any other occasion, vero might have made a comment about uriel using their favorite knives on him, ones that, until this moment, had never been drawn against him.)
the tip of the blade dips into his belly-button as they continue. “chrom is dead, because of you. everyone you trusted, cared about… gone.” they wrap a hand around vero’s neck, tightening, drawing his focus back to them. “this world will be destroyed, by my hand.”
“n– no… uriel–”
“… you won’t live to see it.”
the knife pierces his flesh – the hand strangling him keeps him silent.
everything goes dark.
—-
uriel jolts awake, gasping for breath as they frantically look around. even though a voice in the back of their head assures them that everything’s okay, there’s nothing to worry about, they’re back in vero’s tent, nothing happened, they still search for vero, hoping, praying he’s alive, that it was just a dream and that nothing really did happen and they’re not bleeding out –
“… uriel?”
they turn quickly toward the voice – vero’s calmness breaks instantly when he sees the panic on their face.
“uriel…”
he frowns heavily and moves away from his desk to sit next to uriel on his bed. “what happened?”
they grasp his hand tightly, cherishing its warmth, but refuse to meet his questioning gaze.
“… it’s nothing.”
but the look in their eyes is cold, cruel, unforgiving, and he can’t help but flinch when they stare down at him like a cat who knows beyond a doubt that they’ve caught their prey. it’s not them, he tries to convince himself, but he can’t deny that the person with his life in their hands looks exactly like the assassin he’s grown to trust.
uriel, wake up, he wants to scream, but the only sound that comes out is a strangled cry as uriel stomps hard on one of their knives, driving it deeper into his palm. there’s always been something off about uriel, a lack of regard for life, but never, never would he have expected something like this.
a tactician can only plan for what they think is conceivable – having uriel turn on him like this, to have them admit to murdering chrom with complete indifference and then say they’ll kill him, too… the pain searing from his hands and various lacerations on his body constantly draw him back into reality, to uriel’s red-tinted eyes, and the laughter that’s strange to his ears.
“uriel…” a thought crosses vero’s mind. his hands. if only he could move his hands, maybe he could turn things around. tip the scales in his favor. he doesn’t want to think about it, but –
“you’ve failed.” uriel says quietly, as though sensing vero’s thoughts. they drag a knife slowly down the middle of his chest, cleanly cutting through his sorcerer’s outfit. (in any other occasion, vero might have made a comment about uriel using their favorite knives on him, ones that, until this moment, had never been drawn against him.)
the tip of the blade dips into his belly-button as they continue. “chrom is dead, because of you. everyone you trusted, cared about… gone.” they wrap a hand around vero’s neck, tightening, drawing his focus back to them. “this world will be destroyed, by my hand.”
“n– no… uriel–”
“… you won’t live to see it.”
the knife pierces his flesh – the hand strangling him keeps him silent.
everything goes dark.
—-
uriel jolts awake, gasping for breath as they frantically look around. even though a voice in the back of their head assures them that everything’s okay, there’s nothing to worry about, they’re back in vero’s tent, nothing happened, they still search for vero, hoping, praying he’s alive, that it was just a dream and that nothing really did happen and they’re not bleeding out –
“… uriel?”
they turn quickly toward the voice – vero’s calmness breaks instantly when he sees the panic on their face.
“uriel…”
he frowns heavily and moves away from his desk to sit next to uriel on his bed. “what happened?”
they grasp his hand tightly, cherishing its warmth, but refuse to meet his questioning gaze.
“… it’s nothing.”