#Killian (quil) pov

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Dragon’s Dogma 2

Pairing: Phaesus x Arisen

Chapter 4 rating: M

AO3

Chapter 4 excerpt:

Killian

Dusk settles, cloaking the sky in a hue of deep blue, the fringes layered like a colorful sorbet as the last light of the sun slowly slips beyond the horizon. Billowy clouds lazily float along in cool, shadowed tones and Killian closes his journal. There is not much else to take note of in the Nameless Village and his sketches have turned into two braided plaits and the Arisen’s silhouette and what he imagines she’d look like with such a pretty backdrop. It’s his sign to quit with the musings. Sitting up, he uses the nearby wheelbarrow to pull himself to his feet. His knees groan in protest, disagreeing with his choice of sitting on the ground cross legged. But once righted and the weariness shaken from his limbs, he tucks away his journal into his pack. With a quick glance of his surroundings, he notes the Arisen still has not returned.

Spying Rook near the bank of the pond, he wanders over, folding his arms across his chest. “Has the Arisen made an appearance yet?”

“Are you not always saying, ‘we must not hurry the Arisen’?” Rook picks up a fairly flat and smooth rock and flicks his wrist. The rock skips one, two, three times and then splashes beneath the surface.

“True indeed. I just find it unusual that she has not returned.”

Rook bends down, scooping up two more rocks. He offers one to Killian. “Do you believe the Arisen to be in danger?”

“I suppose not.” Killian takes the offered stone and attempts to imitate Rook’s wrist movement. His rock sinks straight into the water. No skipping.

“She bestowed upon us our charge. It is best we abide by it.” This time his rock skips five times and almost reaches the other side of the pond.

“Right. Of course,” Killian says. But he grasps the strap over his shoulder and makes his way up the hill and further into town.

Stopping by the apothecary, he browses, occasionally lifting a draught or elixir and raises it eye-level for an inspection. Returns them and then glances further up the path that leads to the manor and hopes Gwyn will appear.

“Looking for something in particular?” A blonde woman with golden eyes approaches him in a dress of green with white apron, her brown boots covered in a layer of dried mud that is also smeared on the hem of her dress. “Or someone?”

“There are many dangers on the road. Tis better to be safe than—”

“Dead?”

Killian half laughs and clears his throat while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Twas going to say full of regret. Death does not come so easy for the likes of me and my traveling companions. Still, pain is felt and rather uncomfortable, even debilitating at times, so if it can be prevented by a draught or elixir, then by all means I will be replenishing our stock.”

Her eyes go wide with realization and she lays a hand on his forearm. “You are a pawn. What is that like?”

“What is it like? I know not how to answer that. What is it like to be human?”