Fic: Sins (Swordspoint, PG)

[brigdh]

Title: Sins
Author: Brigdh
Ratings/Warnings: PG for people being depressing, and talk about killing.
Summary: Alec finds out about Jessamyn.
Notes: I should probably not be so self-indulgent as to actually post this without checking with someone else first, but I suspect that if I wait I will never want to look at this story again, and I'm reluctant to let it languish on my harddrive forever. If that's not enough of a warning for you, I don't know what else to add.
Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to Ellen Kushner.

***

"I hope St Vier kills you soon. I don't know why he isn't as sick of you as the rest of us."

Alec turned back to the beggar he'd stepped over. "You're confused," he drawled haughtily. "Richard kills people for me. It doesn't work the other way around."

"It will. I know where to put a bet down, if you've any guesses at how long it'll take." Off Alec's confused look, the beggar grinned, and Alec could see he was missing most of his teeth. "Hasn't anyone told you? Before you came down here, he had a real good friend, name of Jessamyn. Nice, normal woman, nothing like you; everyone liked her. He killed her one night, for no reason. Just wanted to, I heard. What makes you think he won't do the same to you?"

"You don't know what you're talking about. Richard doesn't do women."

The beggar spat. "Not anymore."

***

Alec was stretched out in front of the fireplace, limbs arranged awkwardly as a doll's that had been thrown aside. He was wearing his robe, though it wasn't cold enough for even him to need it; his hands were empty and his face was slack and Richard would have thought he was asleep, except that his eyes were open and staring into the flames. The sun had set but he hadn't lit any candles, so the room was dark with shadows. The orange light from the fire was too soft and formless to do much. "Hello," Richard said as he passed by to pull off his muddy boots, but Alec didn't respond, and Richard felt himself tense in preparation for what might come.

Alec stirred after a moment, hauling himself up into a slightly less slouched position. "Richard, did you sleep with a great many people, before you knew me?" He sounded only curious, but Richard didn't trust the question.

"Yes, I suppose so. A normal amount." Richard shrugged. "You've probably slept with more people than I have," he added, guessing that Alec was feeling jealous.

"Did you love any of them?"

"I don't know. I might have. I don't think about it, much."

Alec examined one of the cuffs of his shirt. "I heard that you killed a woman named Jessamyn. Did you love her?"

Richard's hand tightened around the back of a chair until he could feel the lines of the wood grain against his palm, and then he pulled it out roughly and sat down. The legs clattered loudly against the floor. "Who told you that?"

"Doesn't matter. It's true, then?"

"Yes."

"Ah," Alec said. Richard pressed his thumbs into his eyes hard enough to see flashes of colors that were too bright to be real; when he looked up, Alec was studying him with the closed expression he wore when he enticed strangers into attacking him. Richard's head hurt, suddenly. "Did she want to die?"

"No." If Alec noticed the harshness of the word, he didn't show it. He spoke with the same mild fascination that he did after any swordfight.

"Was it fast?"

"Alec, don't."

"Was there a lot of blood?"

"Stop!" Richard shouted. Alec did, thankfully; he turned on his side and focused again on the fireplace. Richard opened the fists he'd made and carefully laid his hands on his thighs. There was silence, except for the crackle of the fire and his breath, loud in his own ears. "It was a mistake. We were fighting."

"Like this?"

"No. She was different. It was different."

"No," Alec repeated. "You're never angry with me. Is it because you don't care?"

"She's dead, Alec; it isn't romantic."

Alec sat up abruptly, angry. "How could you do it? It isn't anything like you! You are always so careful, you wouldn't-"

"I did." Richard interrupted him. "I don't understand what you expect from me."

Alec tugged his robe tighter around his shoulders; his knuckles looked pale where they held it closed, but that might only have been the flickering light. He laughed sarcastically. "And you think I do? I don't know anything, Richard, and it scares me. I had thought I did, you see." Richard had no answer; he sat still, looking past Alec to the fire, and rubbed his mouth. Alec held out one of his hands. "Come here."

Richard shook his head. "Not now."

Alec ignored his refusal and crawled to him instead; sitting at his feet, he laid his head on Richard's knee. Richard sighed and set his hand on the table to avoid putting it in Alec's hair. "It has nothing to do with you. It would be better if you didn't think of it."

Alec twisted the hem of Richard's breeches in his fingers. "I can't picture it."

"Please don't."

"What if you're not the man I thought you were?" Alec's voice shook and he twisted his head to the other side to better look up at Richard. "But I need you to be. What will I do if you aren't?"

"I would think you'd be pleased if I killed you."

"Sometimes," Alec said. He closed his eyes before continuing. "I never imagined you could lose control. Why do you let me get you into fights when you know you are capable of such important mistakes?"

"It's not the same thing."

"You could be killed because of me. That is not right. When I- Richard, I swear I never thought you might be hurt. I thought you were impervious."

"Impervious to you?" Richard asked.

Alec shook his head. "The best. Immortal. St Vier. What could I do to destroy that?"

"Oh, Alec." Richard touched Alec's lips with the tips of his fingers. "Get off the floor and we'll talk about something else." Alec opened his eyes and raised himself to his knees instead, leaning up to kiss Richard's mouth.

Richard wrapped his arms around him and held him through the kiss, until Alec pulled away. "You're suffocating me."

"Sorry," Richard said, and tried to loosen his hold.

"I didn't say I minded."

Alec placed a hand on Richard's cheek and stared intently into his face; Richard didn't know what he was looking for, and it made him uneasy. He turned his face and kissed Alec's palm. "We could go to bed. Unless you're hungry; do you want to get something to eat?"

"That's all you have to say?"

"What else is there? Leave it alone; you can't talk it around to being something else."

Alec rested his head against Richard's arm and reached up to comb his fingers through his hair, slowly, careful not to catch any tangles. "I want to go to bed. I want to be sure I still know you."

"Alright."

***

Comments

[madcampion.livejournal.com]

Well I don't see much in this story that contradicts that. It is, after all, vintage Richard. He won't react, he won't give any details, he just wants Alec not to be upset and not to talk about it. The only thing that strikes me as maybe non-canonical is how articulate Alec is about what's bothering him. Usually he just acts out and then refuses to talk about it, too. What a pair.