Little Wooden Horse
Oh, oh dear. I seem to have written a ficlet about Oghren and his kid.
tw: character death on the horizon, angst, sadfic
https://archiveofourown.org/works/39441528
The two moons shine down, casting lacey shadows across the edge of the forest as you slip out. Your sword rests against your back and your hand is eager to practice. Mother does not approve. She is afraid you will follow in your father’s footsteps too closely.
You draw your blade, short but well balanced, a gift from your father on one of his visits. It gleams in the moonlight as you practice holding it while doing your footwork. Forward, forward, back, don’t cross step. Lunge, back, back. You are moving faster and faster and can keep the blade high for so much longer than you could when you first practiced with it. Time slips by. You are not as strong as your father but you are quick.
A twig snaps behind you. You turn about, guard up.
A stout, shadowed figure with glowing yellow eyes is approaching from the treeline with a familiar gait. You smile.
“You’re getting better at that kid”, your father says. His tone is jovial but his voice is more raspy than it was last month.
“Da!” you exclaim with a burst of happiness as you sheath your sword. You walk towards him but instead of moving to meet you and pulling you to his arms with a great laugh as he always does he stays in the shadows.
“Da?”, you ask in confusion as you go to him. He is wearing a hood and with his head bowed you can see little else than the frosted hair of his once red beard.
“Not too close, kid. I don’t want you to remember me like this,” he says. His voice is even stranger now. You could almost trick yourself into thinking it’s just some cold he picked up at the Keep but you know the truth. He has had this sickness tainting his blood almost as long as you have been alive. He might have tried to pull back but you have been faster than him for years now.
“Da no”, you whisper. You wrap your arms around him and after a second of tension his arms are around you, lifting you up as they always have.
“Oh Nugget”, he says. The raw sadness in his voice hurts and you feel his broad chest lurch with his suppressed sob. You stay like that for a moment. You know he has always been prone to melancholy, but you have only ever seen the edges of it as he would stay on Duty during the worst of it.
“I thought the Commander was bringing the cure back”, you say.
“I’m not going to last that long. I’ve waited as long as I dare. I’m, I’m losing myself, kid. Gotta go while I’m still me in here”, he said puffed out a forced laugh.
“Can I come with you?” you ask, listening to his heart beat. It’s so much slower than it should be and you realize his embrace lacks its normal warmth.
“No. No, that’s not how it’s done. You know that. Wish one of the old crew could have been escort, but they are all shit knows where now. They got this new guy to see to it I make it to Orzammar on his way back to the Vinmarks. The guy kicked boots with the Inquisitor back in the day if you can believe it. Will be fun to swap stories on the road at least,” he says his laugh vibrates against your cheek.
You finally look up. He is still your father, the expression familiar despite the changes. The lacy blackness that had been growing for the last year covered his face like a veil and the skin below it is dull and cracked like old leather. His eyes are so bright. You feel your own brim.
“Hey! Don’t you fret now. You and your ma take care of each other like you always have. I’ve been luckier than most having you, luckier than a crusty fart like me deserved”, he says as his fingers smooth back your hair.
You gulp down your feelings and nod.
“That’s it. I’m so proud of you Nugget. Love you”, he says and you feel the tickle of his beard as he kisses your forehead.
“I love you pa”, you say to him for what you know must be the last time.
“Now you get back inside. Your ma is waiting”, he said quickly as he started back through the woods. For the first time you notice a human on horseback holding the reins of another steed on the dirt path beyond the wood. His warrior armor gleams. You watch as your father mounts the other horse and you watch as they ride away until they disappear.
You stay there in the dark listening to the sounds of the wood. It seems bizarre that things should go on so peacefully when your father is… when he is…
The tears fall, great horrible sobs. When they finally stop the shadows have shifted with the moon. You walk back along the path you had taken before. There is a light on in the house. When you open the door, your mother is waiting. You can see she has been crying as she sits by the fire. Your little wooden horse is in her hand.
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