Cale's kiss was rough. Biting and vicious as though it were an actual attack and tasting so thickly of alcohol that it was undeniable that she was drunk.
Alver's shock momentarily allowed him to accept the kiss, his arms nearly wrapping around her waist in response as desire and love intermingled for dominance inside of him.
Respect won out and he tried to pull back from the kiss.
His head hit the wall and Cale bit his bottom lip viciously in reprisal, her glazed over eyes burning with emotion.
She doesn't want this.
Alver pushed her away. Hands clenched on her shoulders and panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath.
"What? The slut's good enough but not–"
Alver cut her off.
"Cale."
Merciless and cruel eyes glared into his own hatefully and he knew all over again that she wasn't kissing him out of love or passion. Whatever her goals were, she was drunk and hated him. He needed to remember that.
Cale's lip quivered but her eyes narrowed spitefully. She looked about ready to bite him and so he kept a careful grip on her to keep her at literal arms length.
He didn't dare let her closer.
He couldn't bear to let her go.
"So your promise this afternoon meant nothing?" She sneered, still slurring in an unfamiliar way that really told him just how out of her mind she actually was. "Promising your body was mine alone, pathetic–"
"Cale. You're drunk." He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, the taste of her lips burned in his heart and he would like nothing more than to prove her assertions wrong by closing the gap once more. "You don't want to sleep with me."
Cale scoffed and tried to shrug off his grip, failing only due to her inebriation. "Who are you to decide what I want to do? I can fuck whoever I like!"
Alver breathed out heavily.
"You hate me."
"So? Wouldn't be the first person I fucked with hatred."
Alver was broadly aware of the rumors and reality surrounding Cale's sordid past. Including her colorful history of drunkenly taking all sorts of people to bed with her. Yet, it still stung to be considered among their numbers.
Their first and only night had meant something to Alver. Still meant something to him. The night they conceived their beloved daughter. The night he thought there was something more between them. The night that he couldn't forget, even when he wanted to.
It was a sharp punch to the gut to realize that to Cale, that special night had probably always been one among many. It wasn't that he valued her virginity, if he were that sort of bastard he never would have proposed to the 'Henituse Whore' as people once called her, but he still thought that perhaps that night meant something to her.
Even if it was only love for Penelope's conception, he thought there was at least one special memory between them.
"I already fucked you once, I could do it again."
Stop.
"Oh, I forgot that you're pretending to be a precious virgin who never shoved your dick into a whore before."
Please stop.
"Wasn't that why you fucked me?" She barked a cruel laugh. "Wasn't that why you proposed? Hoping to get your dick wet with a dirty slut?"
I can't handle this right now.
"You know that precious knight you're eyeing?" Cale gleefully escalated, her eyes alight with the familiar desire to get a rise out of Alver. "I fucked her first."
Alver let go of Cale's shoulders.
He really was a fool. Over and over. He hadn't realized it, not until she said it, but he let some tiny part of his heart hope that Cale's severe reaction from before had been jealousy.
He hadn't been wrong.
He'd just misread which person she was jealous over.
In retrospect, it was obvious that Cale and the knight had some sort of history.
Cale pressed up against him and this time bit his throat but he didn't respond other than to wince from the sharp pain.
She's really talented at breaking my heart even when I think I have no expectations.
Perhaps that was where Penelope's misunderstanding had sprung from. She'd somehow learned something about the knight and one of her parents and jumped to the heteronormative assumption that it was her father involved.
Cale's teeth grazed his shoulder but she was losing her steam, drunk and dizzy and tired after marking up Alver's neck.
"...it's your fault..." She slurred miserably and Alver sighed.
She was blackout drunk.
Funny that he saw his drunkard of a wife actually drunk for the first time ever.
With a numb pain ringing in his heart, Alver lifted Cale up and carried her over to the bed. Placing her neatly down beneath the sheets and crumbling to the ground at her bedside.
"Coward..." She muttered darkly. "...never coming to bed with me..."
"I'm in love with you."
The words came out painfully easy. But with Cale drunk out of her mind, it practically felt like talking to himself.
She barked out a laugh, cruel and savage. Exactly what he would expect should he ever seriously confess. "That's rich, what do you want so badly that you'd lie like that?!"
"You."
Alver slumped against the bed frame closing his eyes as he tried to reorganize the various feelings of heartbreak.
"I want you."
Penelope and Cale, happily cuddled up like a real family together.
"I want to be family with you."
Cale's burning eyes glaring into his and seeing deeper than he'd ever shown anyone before.
"I want to be your lover and husband."
Penelope's bright smile as she ran into his arms and her cold glare as she curtsied.
"I want to be the father of our daughter."
Cale's groggy face as she woke up, full of emotions he couldn't identify.
"I want to wake up next to you."
Cale's soft lips.
"I want to kiss you."
Alver laughed hollowly and looked down at his hand, alarm immediately filling him at what he saw.
His skin.
His real skin.
Dread and horror filled him with equal measure as he felt his neck for the necklace his mother left him, horrified to see the chain broken and the pendant lying on the floor where Cale had pinned him to the wall.
His shaking gaze turned to look at Cale but she wasn't looking at him, only scowling at the ceiling as though it personally offended her.
In a way, he wanted to laugh. Cale had bitten off his chain. How completely like her. How utterly horrible.
And it was every reason he couldn't be with her. Couldn't ever trust her.
He was a quarter dark elf and the typical response from any human upon meeting his kind would be lynching and death. It was a secret that he couldn't divulge to his closest allies.
It was something he certainly couldn't trust to the person who hated him most in the world.
It was why he'd never wanted to have children. The fear that his child would also bear the weight of hiding who and what they were.
Fortunately, Penelope never showed any physical signs of her heritage and should she never interact with dead mana or attempt mage-craft, she would likely spend her entire life ignorant of it.
It was bitter that her lack of resemblance was something that Alver felt relieved about, on the days when he wished he could be accepted for what he was, but he had no means to protect her from that persecution without keeping her hidden.
The same way his mother had hidden him.
"Your hair is brown."
Cale's slurred voice caught him off guard and he realized too late that he'd hesitated too long.
"...is a dream, right?" She frowned, turning over in bed and glaring at him. "Or someone drugged my drink..."
Alver had nothing to say.
He was frozen.
In a very real way, his life was in her hands.
Even an unpopular queen like Cale could easily depose of him with this information. She had no reason not to.
Cale scowled at him thoughtfully, eyes still glazed over with alcohol and more than ever, he hoped she wouldn't remember anything in the morning.
"...looks better." She reached out and grabbed his hair, pulling him closer roughly and scrutinizing him. "Blond doesn't suit you."
His heart thudded in his chest and he tried to ignore it.
It was best not to take the drunken ramblings of anyone seriously. Especially not the woman who had only moments ago trampled all over his feelings.
"...skin looks better too." Her eyes burrowed into his own and she smirked. "If we both have brown eyes, how the hell did Penelope come out with teal? Fucking weird..."
Cale sounded like a surly drunk old man who was stating the obvious for the entire tavern to become properly educated. A little aggressive, absolutely out of her mind, and disturbingly casual.
It wasn't exactly the reaction he expected to receive from the first ever person outside of his family to view his true appearance.
Still holding him by the hair, she examined his neck with a scowl.
"Who's the bitch that you let mark you up like that?" She seethed. "Don't you fucking know that you're married?!"
It was seriously a relief to realize that she was that drunk.
Although, perhaps not for his morning counterpart. He should use a potion to heal those marks so they didn't solve further misunderstanding.
Something stung his heart bitterly.
"...you're the one who wants someone else." He accused bitterly, thoughts of the knight filling him with unfamiliar jealousy.
"Bitch, I'm faithful as fuck." She pulled him close and bit his nose, causing him to wince. "Who the fuck told you otherwise?"
You did. A few minutes ago.
Alver sighed and closed his eyes. Cale was always an unforgettable wild beast, bucking wildly and attempting to throw him off. She succeeded quite a bit too.
"...did you mean it...?"
Alver opened his eyes but found that Cale's were closed. Sunk into the mattress as though she was falling asleep and still clutching his hair viciously.
"Mean what?" He asked, tired beyond measure.
She frowned in her sleep.
"...if you didn't mean it, you shouldn't have said it."
Alver made a wild guess. "...about your infidelity?"
She tugged his hair in reprisal and turned over, finally releasing him. "Asshole."
It probably wasn't what she meant but the only thing he knew for sure he meant with absolute sincerity throughout this conversation was his confession.
"I love you."
Her shoulders stiffened but she showed no other sign of having heard him.
But she didn't offer any reprisal either so he welcomed it as an invitation to express the feelings that she wouldn't remember and would always despise.
"I think I fell in love at first sight."
Alver brushed a stray hair away from her face and tucked her in gently. Chuckling bitterly at the memory.
"It was quite a sight to see. I don't think Venion ever recovered."
Alver certainly hadn't. Somewhere in his heart, he still saw the insane gleam in Cale's eyes as she caused mayhem at the ball and put an end to Venion's antics.
He brushed another stray hair away.
"...I suspect Venion was behind the attack."
He planned to deal with it all perfectly and then let her know the results but while he was getting thoughts of his chest, it made sense.
"He has a grudge against you and we were well into his territory. I was also able to connect the contracted guild to one of his illicit businesses. Those I trust are currently working to collect evidence."
Those I trust was such a vile statement to say to the woman he loved when he really couldn't trust her.
How stupid and painful.
He realized miserably that he wished he could count her among their numbers.
"...I think it's Venion too..." She murmured, sounding more asleep than awake. "Didn't tell... don' trust..."
Funny.
Neither of them trusted one another.
How much could you break from a relationship with no trust...?
Maybe if he'd been able to trust her, able to open up his heart without any lies, maybe they wouldn't have wound up here.
Alver remained at her side until he was sure she was asleep. The pain inside of his chest created a dull throb as he picked his necklace back up and admired the damage.
Really. Cale was an impressive person. Even magical items couldn't hold up to her wrath. His chuckle drained into nothing as he stared blankly at the pendant.
She hates me.
It was more clear than ever. Cale had more vitriolic passion for that damn knight than she did for Alver. It wasn't new information, it just burned worse than normal.
...maybe it's time to end this...
That made more sense than continuing on with this miserable farce. For as much as he loved Cale and Penelope, their hatred toward him was evident. They would be happier without him.
And now he knew Cale had feelings for someone else. Someone that Penelope had chosen as her guard. Someone better suited to Cale's tastes. Someone who probably wouldn't make her miserable.
Alver hunched down on a chair and stared at his hands, miserable thoughts of divorce filling his thoughts. With a numb sort of acceptance, Alver began to craft the paperwork. Funny, he'd always been so much better at paperwork than he'd ever been at family.
It was impossible to think about letting them go. But if all that awaited them was more miserable spirals of pain... he couldn't do that to them. Not now that he knew just how wretched he made them feel.
Funny. It's easier to craft this than to just talk to them...
A wet droplet fell in front of him and startled him.
Alver lifted a hand to his wet cheek in surprise, unable to quite understand.
It wasn't that he'd never cried. He knew what it was. He knew what it meant. He could still vividly remember every tear he'd shed on his mothers grave. Every miserable moment spent alone and scared and broken.
But he'd promised himself strength and the tears dried up in his efforts for the throne. With a goal in front of him. With something important enough to him that he could let go and move forward–
Another droplet fell and he realized with growing distress that he couldn't stop.
Alver cried when Penelope was born. Tears of joy and relief that stung his eyes briefly and fell quick enough that anyone could have missed it.
Alver's eyes misted over on that stupid night when he really thought that Cale could love him and he could love her.
Now a sob threatened to wreck it's way through him and it was all he could do to suppress the mortifying sound from escaping and proving just how pathetic he truly was.
The tears wouldn't stop.
Merciless.
There was never a single moment when I was special to her.
Stupid.
Everything I've done has hurt them.
Endless.
Even still, I...
Alver held his face as he broke down, the tears ruining his work and destroying whatever remained of his pride.
What was it that Cale had said to him? During that horrible fight in the forest?
Ah, right. His father was indeed less disgusting than he was. Zedd Crossman never had any love for his progeny and only pretended to do so for a brief time in Alver's youth. Every way that Zedd broke his children was breaking down people who didn't mean a thing to him.
Alver was the sort of scum who broke the people he loved.
A bitter laugh ripped through his heart and threatened to leave his throat raw.
Cale was right. He was worse than his father. How funny that the accusation made him so angry at the time and now all that was left was self loathing.
A wretched sob followed the laugh and then another and before long, he felt like he could scream.
Petite arms wrapped around him.
Alver flinched away violently, glaring blindly into the darkness brought about by the burnt out candlelight.
"I told you–" His voice was raw from sobbing but no less authoritative. "Don't pretend to care about me any longer."
He grabbed hold of the ruined paperwork, crumbling it in his grip. "Take it." He hissed, throwing it at her and losing his balance momentarily. "Fuck, what more do you want...?"
She caught him and he pushed her away again.
"Don't touch me." Alver grit his teeth. "For once, just fucking once, can you treat me like a person...?! Leave me alone."
He was swaying dangerously.
He shouldn't be in such a wretched condition just over a miserable night. He'd had far more wretched nights. He'd lost so much more than this. He could be strong. He could handle this.
...was there really losing anything more than this...?
The woman he loved and the child he adored and he'd been the stooge who was dumb enough to hold out any hope for a family.
Any hope for love.
Pathetic.
She was motionless in front of him and for that he was grateful. He couldn't stand to push her away again but he couldn't handle being held by her right now.
His vision swam.
He could still taste Cale's liquor on his lips.
Distantly he remembered what she'd said about the alcohol being drugged. He'd dismissed it as the ramblings of a drunk but what if it wasn't...?
He'd only had a taste. It would need to be something powerful to fuck him up this badly with just a taste. Doubtful that Cale could have stayed upright as long as she did unless she had an insane metabolism.
Something that makes the target dizzy and emotional.
There were quite a few poisons that fit the bill and plenty of them were fatal. Alver blinked blurry eyes at Cale's indistinct form in the darkness. Trying to focus.
...was there something red on her lips...?
Fuck...
Alver fell forward, losing consciousness as Cale caught him and also sank to the ground.
I fucked up again.
He tried to focus his mana to detoxify, at least for Cale, at least to hold onto consciousness a bit longer.
The darkness consumed him before he could do anything, the sound of mad laughter filling his ears.