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description: They will soon name him Corvo the Black, and to them it will be the print of his rule. To Corvo it is a designation in his daughter’s name.
gen; corvo the black; corvosider mention; angst;
His fingers touch upon Emily’s hand, reached out. His fingers connect with hers. He looks in her eyes and leans in to press a fatherly kiss to her marble forehead. She is safe now. Oh, she is safe.
Corvo walks through the ruin of Delilah’s reign, he seats himself wearily upon the throne and ponders. The hall opens up to him with regal columns, half ruined, and scraps of flowers. Petals bend under his foot, crush into pieces. Stone, marble, spills of blood. He feels that this is the only beginning to the Empire.
His Empire.
It takes a second for him to realise what must be done. Tomorrow the banners of the city of rubbles will be replaced, tomorrow people will not whisper in fear about Empress Delilah. There will be newspapers and shouts of a new ruler, a new Emperor, Corvo Attano. There will be shouts of bloodshed, too.A moment of clarity comes upon him - he wonders if he is no better than tyrannical Delilah in monopolizing the Empire yet again. But who is there to take the power from? As he pushed towards victory, he took no life to achieve it. Delilah is safely trapped within her own dreams, as Corvo is now entangled in his own.
What does the Emperor dream of?
He closes his eyes in the silence of ending and imagines. His daughter, safe where he can look after her. Enemies brought down to justice and sword, allies bound by proven allegiance. He shall keep the peace the way he can, and if one must get a sword in their chest for it, then Corvo shall be the one to push it.
After all, it was the victory he wanted bloodless - ahead could be a very different path.
He opens his eyes again and watches the entrance to the Tower. Corvo wonders for a moment if Jessamine felt the way he does now when they put a signet ring on her finger, crowning her an Empress. He will wear it as a reminder and a promise, but it is just like a thorn crown - he shall be a sacrifice of his own volition.
The seductive sweetness of power indulges him. The throne is comfortable, and the ground feels sturdy under his feet. Soon he shall thunder the ground with his decisions, and all of it to protect his precious Emily.
They will soon name him Corvo the Black, and to them it will be the print of his rule. To Corvo it is a designation in his daughter’s name.
Dust crumbles under his fingers as he rubs them together. The Tower is now his belonging. The walls of his command, soon - a stronghold. He will bring peace and justice into the place. And should his ever independent god grace the Tower with his presence, there will be love in the walls of it too.
Plans and hopes and dreams buzz in the Emperor’s head as he pulls the thoughts together. For now all he desires for is sleep, because there is another battle to fight, another victory to conquer. He dozes off with his head resting on the knuckles of his hands as he holds onto the sword, grinding his power into the stone-laid floor.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-15 02:04 am (UTC)end me with that "fatherly kiss to her marble forehead" why don't you
;.;
no subject
Date: 2018-12-16 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-12-16 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-12-16 07:12 pm (UTC)