You’re More Important
A whumpy fill in fic for the pyre scene in Shanarra season 2. Riga captures Mareth and Allanon, and they face the possibility of death together.
@swingrlm suggested this and helped find the movie quotes so this piece could flow.
(gif credit: loisfreakinglane)
Allanon slowly dressed himself. He felt a little light headed, but it was nothing compared to the pain he’d been in earlier. He was about to go out and speak with Mareth when he heard someone call him from outside. “Druid!” It wasn’t just anyone. It was Riga. He could recognize that voice anywhere.
“Where is the Codex?”
He could hear the question sounding clear in his mind even though no one had spoken. He felt as if a lump of ice was nestled in his stomach. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt too tight to breathe. Cold sweat covered his body as he tried to fight the sharp tang of fear polluting his mind. He’d told himself he could take a beating, but all he could see was the torture chamber. He could hear the brand searing the skin off his flesh.
He wanted nothing but to flee, but he couldn’t. His fear of Riga might be crippling, but his love for his daughter was stronger. He didn’t know where she was, but he wouldn’t leave without her. He forced one foot in front of the other until he was out of the tent. He looked at the men surrounding him. All their faces were covered in hatred. He wondered how many of them had lost loved ones to the demons, and instead of finding closure they chose to blame him.
Allanon saw the elf that visited him in his nightmares. The elf that terrified more than he’d ever let anyone know. He paused mid step and rewarded by one of the guards shoving him forward. “General Riga...” He stated the name coldly his voice showing none of the fear that he was feeling. He was weak and outnumbered, and he wouldn’t be lucky enough to escape twice.
Riga stepped to the side. “I believe I have something that belongs to you.”
Allanon saw Mareth on her knees, blood running down the side of her face. He moved forward to rush to her side. Riga slipped his sword in front of him, with a cruel grin. “I thought that might get your attention. Bring me the Codex or your daughter dies.”
Allanon looked back at his daughter. He closed his eyes and reached out with magic. He wanted to absorb her pain. He could feel the gash on her head and sent a splintering ache through him, but that was nothing to the fear she felt. She was afraid of dying, afraid of losing him, and even more afraid that he would hand Riga the Codex. He rocked forward a little as the connection dissolved. The effort had cost him. He rapidly blinked his eyes refocusing himself.
“Don’t do it.” Mareth shouted. Her bravery was rewarded with a back hand across her face. She was nearly knocked down by the hand of the guard.
Allanon lifted his hand in the direction of the guard. “Don’t touch her.” He could tell the small gesture seemed to scare the man, but the sword at his throat never wavered.
“I suggest you tell me where the Codex is, druid.” Riga hissed. “You won’t like what happens next.”
Allanon looked back to Mareth. She was so strong, struggling to remain composed. He’d been here before. It hadn’t been the same, but he remembered as if it was happening in that moment……..
“Bandon, what did you do to him?” Wil question him.
Allanon was struggling just control his breathing, let alone speak, but he attempted to form coherent words. “....pushed him too hard, went too fast... Was trying to save the Ellcrys...” He managed to get the words out. He struggled to focus on Wil. He was the last person he’d expected to attempt a rescue, and it was clear it wasn’t because he wanted to.
“Someone else you sacrificed for the greater good?” Wil scoffed.
Allanon took the words like a slap across the face. “Bandon strayed off the path, because of me. I accept that. It is the reason I tried to keep you out of this. But destiny is stronger than the wishes of one man.” It had been his hope to stop Bandon by himself, but clearly that wasn’t going to possible. He was running out of time, and this detour was wearing heavily on him.
He looked up as Riga reentered with a cart. He hated to admit it, but a spark of fear flared up in his chest. His heart rate sped up and he looked down for a moment just to compose himself. He’d fought many evil forces; he couldn’t let him get under his skin this way.
“ Welcome Will... I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.” Riga’s voice dripped with disgust.
“Whatever you think I can do for you, I can’t.” Wil’s response was brave, and Allanon feared for him. Riga didn’t like bravery. He liked to crush it beneath his boot.
“Dont sell yourself short” Riga picked up the device on the cart and stepped up to Wil’s side.
“Riga!!!” Allanon called out, as he was forced to watch him plunge the drain into Wil’s neck. He wanted to beg him to leave Wil out of this, the boy had suffered enough. Why make him go through this? This was his fault again. Riga hadn’t broken him yet, so he would force Wil to suffer.
“With the valve wide open I can drain all the blood in his body within minutes. Tell me, where is the Codex of Paranor?” Riga demanded. He waited for a response, but Allanon didn’t answer. “I guess the longer you live the colder your heart gets.”
“Allanon doesn’t give a damn about anyone. He didn’t care about Amberle, and he certainly doesn’t care about me.” Wil smirked at Riga despite the pain he was feeling.
Wil’s word hurt worse than the touch from the brand. Did the people in his life truly believe that he never cared for them? He knew Wil had hated him, but he didn’t realize how deep the hatred ran. Wil actually believed that he would be fine just watching him die. Wil had been almost like a son to him, and he thought that perhaps they’d come to form some sort of bond. Instead it was clear, that Allanon was alone in this thought. Perhaps this was punishment for all the missteps he’d taken in life. He’d foolishly thought that rejection would just get easer, but it stung just as much as it had before.
“You can drain me dry, and he still won’t crack.” Wil’s icy blue stare pieced what was left of Allanon’s heart.
He knew what Riga was capable of. He couldn’t let him hurt her the way he hurt Wil. He had let Wil believe that he could stand by while he suffered and do nothing. He couldn’t abandon his daughter. “Give me your word that you will let her go unharmed.”
“No….no you can’t.” Mareth pleaded. “You can’t.”
“Fine. Give me the Codex, and she goes free.” Riga smirked.
Allanon stepped back. “I’ll bring it to you.” He wondered if Mareth was disappointed, but he couldn’t let her believe that he didn’t care about her. He wasn’t good with emotions, but she was all that was left in this world for him. She reminded him so much of her mother, brave and passionate. He would not fail her.
“I don’t think so.” Riga snapped his fingers and one of his men handed him a collar. “Put this on first.”
His stomach turned over as he looked at the collar in Riga’s hand. He could see blood crusted up the sides of it. It was the same collar he’d worn before. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his heart was racing. He was afraid that it was about to explode in his chest.
He took the collar from Riga, somehow managing to keep his hand steady. He didn’t want to put the collar back on, to be powerless. He couldn’t go back to that place. He looked back at his daughter. He couldn’t fail her this time. He slowly snapped the collar around his neck. His magic vanished and he felt weaker than before, but he also felt panic setting in. He was back in the Warlock Lord’s strong hold, facing a fate worse than death.
He walked calmly back into the tent, once the flap swung shut behind him his fingers slipped up to the collar trying to pry it off his neck. “Please.” He whimpered, choking back a sob as the steel refused to budge. He could feel his breathing escalating to hyperventilation. He stumbled forward and grabbed the table to balance himself. “He won’t harm Mareth. It doesn’t matter what happens to you.” He stated the words firmly and picked up the book with trembling hands, trying to believe the words he’d just spoken.
“We should have had more time.” He said softly to himself. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. He had no delusions about his situation, the Codex could free Mareth, but there was no hope for him. Riga would finish what he started. He could only pray that it would be quick.
He took one last deep breath and walked back out into the sunlight. He clutched the book in his hands as he walked toward Riga. Every part of his mind was screaming for him to stop. The Codex couldn’t be handed to this elf, but he would gladly risk everything for his daughter. If she lived perhaps she could find a way to get the Codex back.
Mareth looked at the book in his hands and her shoulders slumped. “No...” She whispered under her breath.
Riga took the book from Allanon, if he notice the druid flinch he didn’t let on. “At last.”
“You should have let me die.” Mareth shouted, but she didn’t understand. He’d see so much death that he couldn’t watch her die, and Riga would never grant her a quick death.
Riga turned the book over in his hands and smirked. “You are a shadow of your former self Druid, not at all the man I met at Graymark.” His looked up at Allanon with his piercing look, and he knew in that moment that Riga understood just how broken he was.
The guards grabbed him pulling him away from their leader. He looked to his daughter, but she wasn’t freed of her collar yet. “You said you would let her go!” The panic was rising his throat again. He’d always known it was possible that Riga wasn’t a man of his word, but he couldn’t have done this for naught.
“Are you really that naive? She’s as guilty as you are and will share the same fate.” Riga held the Codex up in front of him and smiled. “Thank you for this.”
“You have no idea what you are up against.” Allanon growled under his breath. Riga would surely be murdered once Bandon had succeeded and for the first time in his life, he wished death upon someone. He wanted Riga to come face to face with the thing that he hated the most, and be torn to pieces.
“With your death, I am one step closer to purging the four lands of magic.” Riga announced to his followers, who all seemed keen to cheer him on. He turned to the troops that were approaching them, and listen to their report.
He could barely keep the smile off of his face. Riga’s days were number. If Graymark wasn’t responding he could only imagine why that was. Bandon was close to calling his new master to earth. It was a strange feeling to feel relieve that even though he was to die, at least Riga wouldn’t survive much longer.
“We leave for Graymark at once. Burn the Druid and his daughter at the stake and scatter their ashes to the wind. I want nothing left.” Riga turned back to Allanon one last time giving him a look of disgust.
Allanon looked at Mareth. He could see the free in her eyes, and the anger. He knew she saw it on his face. He looked back at Riga wondering if he knew that he was picturing his death in his mind. Magic didn’t work on the bastard, but he’d never been restricted to the use of magic. He jerked his hand free of the guard and smashed his elbow into the man’s face.
The guard fell back to the ground and he dealt a swift kick to the other guard’s knee. He heard the joint give way beneath his boot. He lunged forward feeling a small thrill of delight at the look of surprise on Riga’s face. The elf had thought that he was completely broken, but he couldn’t be more wrong. His fist connected with the side of Riga’s face.
The general dropped like a fly and his guards surged around him. Allanon spun to the side greeting the first guard with a fist to the jaw. He heard Mareth shout and saw her on her feet fighting off a few other guards. He turned to fight his way toward her, shoving an elf out of his way.
They were being overwhelmed and he felt a since of desperation. If only he could just generate enough magic to push the men back. He tried to use the magic even if he knew it wouldn’t work. He drew on the power of the earth feeling the tightening in his chest. He cried out as his skin tore open at his shoulder and then further down his arm, the skin on the back of his hand shredded as if knives were bursting out of his skin.
He stumbled to his knees unable to keep his balance. He’d suffered all the affects of magic use, but he couldn’t even perform a simple spell. He watched in despair as Mareth was tossed to the ground in front of him. He looked up at the sky above him. The world that he bled to save, was cruel. The cost was too much, and he didn’t want to pay it anymore. He didn’t want Mareth to pay it.
Riga pulled himself to his feet and spat blood across Allanon’s face. “Pathetic.” He hissed, turning his back to the druid.
The guards forced the two of them to their feet and marched them to the pyre they’d constructed. He was surprised he was actually able to walk to his fate. He was almost certain he’d have to be dragged there. He felt a strange sense of calm taking over him. He could stand the idea of his own passing, but he couldn’t stomach the fact that Mareth would die beside him.
They were tied back to back on the pyre, as the guards circled them. “This is all my fault.” Mareth’s voice cracked as she spoke.
“No.” Allanon couldn’t let her blame herself for what had just happened. In the face of death, she was concerned about a dusty, old book. It all seemed so meaningless when you thought about it that way. She was so selfless, and he didn’t deserve to be her father.
“Yes, you only gave Riga the codex to protect me.” Mareth’s anger at herself, made her sob.
“You are more important to me than any book.” Allanon told her firmly. He would do it all again, if there was even the slightest chance of saving her. She deserved a life, free of magic. She deserved happiness, love, and to grow old in the arms of someone who cared about her.
The guard slowly lowered a torch to the pyre. “Will your magic save you now Druid?”
He wasn’t surprised that the guard felt no compassion, the fool was dense. If he took this collar off now, he’d see just what magic could do. In his last moments he wasn’t going to focus on an army of foes. He tried to turn his head so that he could see his daughter. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. It wasn’t meant to end this way.”
Mareth cleared her throat. “This isn’t the end. ‘Though we die, our struggle lives on.’”
Allanon smiled a little at the familiar words. “Your mother would have been proud.” He had no doubt that Pyria would have been pleased with everything that Mareth had accomplished.
“I guess I can ask her that myself soon enough.” Mareth’s voice didn’t hold any animosity it simply was resigned to her fate.
“In death just as in life....” The words brought a sense of comfort. I’m sorry Pyria. Our daughter is truly the best thing that I ever did. I’m sorry that I failed her, and that I failed you. It’s selfish of me to hope that we’ll be together after this……but I hope that you will forgive me.
“Burn you abominations!” Someone shouted.
Allanon could barely caught the words as the heat of the fire started to burn his legs. His robes were catching, and he knew they didn’t have much longer. Oh how he wanted to take away all the pain that Mareth would feel, he wanted to save her from a terrible death, but all he could do was reach of her hand. He was almost surprised when she accepted his hand. It was the only form of comfort he could give.
He gritted his teeth together as the skin on his legs began to burn. He tried to move his feet a little bit more, but it wasn’t helping. His collar suddenly jolted and fell from his neck. For a second the world seemed to move in slow motion. He watched the collar slowly fall into the fire, and then he felt the magic surge through him.
The flame vanished and he pulled his daughter off the pyre. He still had a little magic left, as he channeled it into her so she could heal herself. He tossed his robe off him tossing the flaming material away from himself. He stumbled back ward peeling the melting boots from his feet. He gasped as the skin of his feet peeled off with the boots.
Mareth was at his side. He didn’t see her run over, but her hands rested on his shoulder. “Let me help you.”
Allanon knew that the burns spiraled up over his calves, but he didn’t care about the pain. He cupped his daughter’s face in his hands. “You’ve done enough for me, little one.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Just seeing you alive is all the help that I need.”
