The Alarming Sound

[Trinn]

Meera hesitated, unsure if it would be best to leave him by himself outside in the gathering dusk. "Alright." she finally said, after he gently kissed her hand. "But come in soon, please. Otherwise I'll get worry lines." Giving him one last smile, and a kiss on the cheek, she disappeared into the keep. Inside, she let down her guard and let all the worry she felt for Daemon cloud her features. Moving about almost sluggishly from her anxiety, she went about setting up a stew to for dinner. Usually she used magic to prepare the food faster, but this time she chopped all the vegetables her self as well as the chunks of meat. She put it all into a large pot and set it over the hearth. Meera watched the stew carefully, finding some sort of peace in making the dinner.

[Tismri]

Daemon watched Meera go inside, leaving him alone in the deepening twilight. Just as he felt he had the strength to join her, he sensed another presence and hesitated.
"You look pathetic," her voice rang out. Daemon recognized her tone immediately. He caught a small hint of worry in Saenon's voice, although it was masked by sarcasm.
"I've had a few problems," he told her. He stopped leaning against the wall and put his willpower into standing on his own two feet. He placed the flowers all on the ground next to him and approached her.
"You know why I'm here, brother," Saenon said, her voice bitter and cold as ice.
"To give me a bouquet of flowers?" he teased. "You wouldn't be the firt one today." Saenon gave a derisive sneer and rolled her eyes.
"Just like you to be joking when I'm about to kill you," she said, drawing her dagger. Daemon responded by forming his own, crystalizing the dust in the air and bringing it together in his hand. Saenon didn't say a word; there was nothing left to be said between them. She simply charged. Daemon was surprisingly agile even in this state. He was able to defend himself against her, because even after all these years, he still knew exactly how she was going to attack. He blocked, parried, and struck and they circled back and forth.
Then, suddenly, Daemon felt a stabbing pain in his heart, and the world started spinning, and he dropped to the ground. Saenon was so stunned to see him in such a state that she backed away a few feet and just stared. Daemon thrashed about, curling himself into a tight ball in an attempt to ward off the pain. This fight had exerted him; he could feel his heart tearing itself apart.
"Daemon?" Saenon asked, her voice unsure...frightened. He opened his eyes and attempted one last smirk at her.
"Looks like you won't have...to kill me after all..." he wheezed out, his vision darkening. She took a small step toward him. He couldn't lift his eyes up to her anymore and instead stared at her boots. "I'm glad," he murmurred. "I don't think you could have forgiven yourself."
"Daemon...Daemon, no!" Saenon's voice took on a frantic edge and she knelt down next to him, desperately taking ahold of his hand. "You can't do this! You can't just give into it! You've...you've borne so much..." A crack betrayed the tears that threatened to emerge. "You have more strength than any other man I know. You've suffered so much, but somehow was able to keep smiling. You're everything I never was." She laid her head down against his chest. She thought of their lives, both together and seperate. She was always treated better than he was growing up. Jeshelle loved her and hated him. He was always injured, and she would always try to fix him, when everyone else thought he wouldn't be worth saving. And she understood his reasons for leaving and joining the Varden, his reasons for letting her believe he was dead. He was a good man, a far better person than she was. He deserved to live, and she didn't.
Saenon knew what she had to do. Suddenly, everything in her life seemed to make sense, as if everything she had ever strived for was to bring her to this moment. Gently, she placed a hand on Daemon's chest, and began to whisper an incantation. It was long and complex.
Pain began to lace through her body, and with each pain a memory of what her brother had suffered. Acid drips, knife wounds, broken bones, spells gone awry. Blinding, deadly pain. How could he have stood it? How did he live through it? She could not imagine.

Daemon struggled with himself. He thought he was about to die. Why then was the world becoming clearer, just as he had last seen it? The pain in his heart vanish suddenly. The constant pinpricks of crystal shards ceased. He didn't understand.
He looked up; Saenon was still here. Were those tears on her face? Even more alarming was the blood that seemed to be leaching out of every inch of her torso.
"Saenon...what..?" Then he understood. "No...no, don't do this!" He sat up and tried to push her away, to stop the spell that she was performing. She grasped his arm and held it with a deathly grip. Their eyes met. A single word formed from her lips.
Then it was as if they were standing in a world of whiteness. There was only the two of them, a few feet apart.
"I understand now," Saenon said. "I see why you left the Black Hand, and why you believe in the Varden's cause. I know why you never told me, and let me believe you were dead all those years. I guess I always knew. But I was too focused on the hurt and betrayal I felt to see it."
"I'm sorry I hurt you," Daemon told her. "I never meant to." She nodded, a small smile forming.
"I'm sorry I hurt you, too. After spending so much time keeping you alive, I nearly became the death of you. I'm sorry for everything I've done...we have been like two halves of one soul our entire lives. You were everything good and selfless, and as a result you were harmed for it. I was darkness, concerned for our self-preservation, and would hurt others.
"But now our time together had finished. One of us must leave. I know it must be me." The whiteness surrounding them faded to a gray, and their images of each other became blurred. "You need to keep living and spread joy and beauty in ways I never could."
"Saenon...I don't want you to leave." Daemon reached out for her unfocused image as the light faded to darkness and he tried to run to her.
"I love you, Daemon..." And the image faded.

Daemon came to and found his eyes still locked with his twin's. Wide open, but seeing nothing. She was unmoving, not even a whisper of breath escape her mouth. The blood from the wounds she had taken from him no longer left her in pulses, but streamed and dripped, not driven by a heartbeat.
Daemon sat up. Physically, he felt better than he had almost his entire life. Every scar he had was healed, and no sign of them remained. They were all transferred to the corpse lying against him. Tears started to fall from his eyes and he closed hers. He stood and held her lifeless body against his as he slowly walked back to the house to Meera.
"Thank you, Saenon," he whispered. "I love you, too."

[Tismri]