Crossed Paths

They don't talk much, but he takes her with him; to the tower overlooking Salma, to the house at Triskell Quay, even by the house on Manor Hill. She holds his hand the whole time, strangely content and uncharacteristically patient. Each location takes them an hour, two hours, spent almost entirely in silence. But he takes her with him.

After a while, they begin to speak to each other, but about frivolous things. What their lives were like before they met. What their parents were like. How they ended up where they are now. They both find it refreshing; they both can't remember when last they had time to spare for talking about frivolous things.

It proves an adequate distraction for him. He doesn't even realize it. Without even knowing, he finds himself thinking of Ausra less, and when he does, he finds the memories less saddening. Without even knowing, he stops seeing her shadow at every meeting place. Without even knowing, he stops sparing a second glance at every woman with white hair. Without even knowing, he finds himself content with the memories, content with wishing her well, wherever she is. The unanswered questions - How is she doing? Is she alright? What is she up to? - no longer bother him., because without even knowing, he has become disinterested in the answers.

And Veronica...she'd braved his despair, his anger, his whimsy, his stupidity, signified with him at every turn. Somehow, she understands. Somehow, she doesn't back down, had never backed down. And somehow, she always believed in him, always thought he was better than he acted. And somehow...she was right to, and he knew she was right to.

But he remains skeptical. What did she want him for? Where would they go from here? How long would it be before something came in the way of this relationship? How long before his constant adventures finally got to her? Or to him?

Yet if there was ever one thing he was good at, it was silencing doubt.

The two of them sit on a beach in Lion's Arch. All is silent, save for the sound of the waves steadily lapping against the shore before them.

...but they don't always speak of unpleasant matters.

She'd told him where she lived. Invited him, even, if perhaps indirectly, but even if she hadn't, this was a man who went where he pleased whenever it pleased him; so much as a hint of interest on her part would have led to him showing up eventually. So it hadn't been altogether surprising to Oriana when Marcus showed up at her doorstep a week after their last meeting, wearing that same foolhardy grin he always wore.

He had quickly proved an exhausting man to be around. Here was a man, she soon came to realize, who loathed any sort of constraint or restriction. They began by setting up some ground rules: no fighting in public; no causing damage to others or their property; no fighting to the death. Marcus protested every single such limitation, and violently so, yielding only when Oriana bested him each time. A casual onlooker would look at such a man and see a dangerous, even unstable individual, and perhaps rightly so. But to Oriana, Marcus, his games, his challenges, and their meetings together in general were something else.

They didn't speak to each other much during their bouts, but there was always a gap in between, and Marcus, despite his as-yet unbroken losing streak, seemed impossible to keep down, and even more impossible to shut up. More than once, Oriana had considered naming his silence as the prize for her victory, but truthfully she found him endearing in a strange sort of way. His spirit, if nothing else, was admirable, as was his tenacity, and while he was dangerously unpredictable, she'd learned that he could always be counted on to speak his mind without hesitating...and often without thinking, either.

Months into their strange relationship, Oriana began to realize two things. The first was that Marcus was unquestionably insane, not by any measurement of her own, but simply by definition. By now she had bested him on at least a dozen different nights, and every night of victories earned her more from him. After they'd established the rules, she moved onto personal questions, and surprisingly enough, Marcus never once declined to answer her, at least not after she won. Conversely, Marcus had gained nothing from her, save for a fight record that would depress even the most optimistic onlooker. Yet, in spite of the losses, in spite of continually challenging her and walking away with nothing to show for it, Marcus never failed to show up again a day, a week, a month later.

The second was that Oriana was beginning to like it when he did.

Granted, she had enjoyed crossing paths with him the first few times, but that was in a more strictly professional sense, not an emotional one; he had provided her with a challenge where she thought none had remained. As time went on and her victories climbed in number, it dawned on her that the challenge...wasn't entirely there any more. Yet, every time Marcus left, she was quick to remind him that he was welcome to return and face her again, and he invariably did. She was growing to like his presence, and she wasn't entirely sure why. He was a free spirit: unrefined, unrestrained, chaotic. Dangerous.

Then again, perhaps it was because Marcus was so perfectly opposed to her she couldn't help but be intrigued. She knew it from the moment her sword had first met his, but it had only become more apparent since then that the way Marcus carried himself in a fight wasn't far from the way he carried himself everywhere else. Oriana herself was no different in that respect, but their mannerisms and attitudes were almost perfect opposites to each other. She was a woman who prided herself on discipline, formality, and order; Marcus seemed to personally reject all those things, and indeed everything about the way she conducted herself, but didn't begrudge her for it. Perhaps that was it: she disagreed with his conduct, and he with hers, but it was never a topic of contention between them. Oriana respected that mutual acceptance, and she surmised Marcus respected it equally.

When Veronica woke, she found herself surprised to realize that Dominick wasn't next to her. The two of them hadn't slept particularly close together, but she'd never pegged him as someone who'd be up before she was, least of all without her noticing. Then again, he was a thief. Perhaps her surprise was unwarranted.

The priestess lifted her head drowsily and scanned the room for a moment before spotting him seated at a makeshift work table situated along the wall between the fireplace and the dresser. He seemed to be busy with whatever it was on the table that was occupying his attention, and gave no indication as to whether or not he'd heard Veronica awaken.

"...Dominick?" she asked blearily.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, his expression neutral. "Hey. You're up."

"I...yeah," Veronica replied as she rubbed her head a little. "How are you doing?"

"Eh." Dominick shrugged. "Been better. Been worse." He turned back to his work.

Veronica paused a few moments before continuing. She was mostly awake now, but she found herself suffering from a bit of a headache. Still, it wouldn't last long, she surmised; she'd probably just woken up too fast, and the lights hadn't helped much either. "Do you want to talk about it, or..."

When she didn't finish her sentence, Dominick took it to mean it was his turn to talk. "Maybe later," he said, this time without turning around. "I want to finish this first."

Veronica blinked once, then twice, then shifted her legs over the side of the bed to stand up. She regarded him curiously. "What are you working on?"

The thief paused visibly, but didn't still didn't turn. "Just making some personal modifications to some of my weapons." He resumed whatever he was doing. Whatever it was was generating a soft scraping noise, like metal cutting metal. "Giving them something to be remembered by, you know?"

Slowly, Veronica paced across the room to look over Dominick's shoulder. The thief had a small set of gravers lying on the desk, along with one in his hand, and was presently focused on using it to carve something onto the side of the barrel of one of his pistols. On the desk to his left was another, identical gun, either finished already or else awaiting whatever treatment he was giving the current one.

"When my parents left, they left behind some of their things for me and Aria to have," he explained. "My dad left his coat for me. Mom left her sword." Observing his hand movements for a moment, Veronica gathered that whatever he was engraving was written, but she couldn't tell what with his hands in the way. "She had a name for it: Lirix. It always seemed kind of silly to me as a kid, but...I think I'm starting to get it now." He paused a moment to look his work over, then, satisfied, went back to it. "I don't know if Lirix was a name she just made up, or if it was someone who was important to her, or what, but it meant enough to her as a name to give it to the one thing she passed along to me."

After a few more seconds, Dominick seemed to have finished, and held the firearm up to the light for a better look at it. Finally, he turned towards Veronica. "We don't really have any family traditions that I'm aware of, so...I'm going to make one," he declared resolutely. "Someday, I'm going to give these to someone - maybe my kids, if I ever have any - the same way she gave Lirix to me. So I figured I should give them appropriate names."

"Can I see?" Veronica held out a hand tentatively. Dominick paused thoughtfully, staring at the gun for a moment before finally depositing it in her grasp. Her eyes scanned the side of the barrel until she saw the engraving. "'Ausra'?" she read aloud, oddly sounding more reverent than surprised.

"Well, it kills half of the things that come near it, and has a tendency to backfire when I least expect it," Dominick explained with a wry grin. "What else was I going to call it?"

Veronica didn't answer immediately. Her eyes remained fixated on the engraving for a few more seconds before, at last, she leaned over and set it back on the table. "You know..." she sat down beside Dominick on the bench and gave him a half-amused, half-chastising smile. "Putting her name on something you carry with you all the time...kind of counter-intuitive to trying to get over her. In fact, it's kind of the opposite of getting over her."

"Getting over her. Not forgetting her," Dominick corrected. He glanced down at his handiwork for a long moment. "Just because things didn't work out doesn't mean she isn't important to me, or that our time together isn't worth remembering." He turned back to Veronica, staring pensively into her eyes as he continued. "I know you want to talk about this, but...give me a little while, alright?"

The priestess hesitated before replying. Gently, she reached over to lay her hand on the back of Dominick's, still smiling lightly. "There are other things I want to talk about too." She gave his hand a slight squeeze, then released it and rose to her feet, making her way to the door without another word.

Dominick watched her for a moment, but as she neared the door, he called out to stop her. "Hey." Veronica halted and turned back to face him from the entryway. "Thanks for coming."

...two swordmasters find themselves pleasantly surprised to meet again.

Oriana: ...

Oriana: (This city...it is of no further use to me.)

Oriana: (No challenge remains here...unless...)

Marcus: Well, if it isn't the Queen of Roses herself!

Oriana: (...of course.)

Oriana: Mister Hayes.

Marcus: That's me. Had a feeling I might run into you again!

Oriana: A feeling, or a hope?

Marcus: Heh. Just a feeling.

Oriana: ...I see.

Oriana: I must confess I had been hoping we would meet again.

Marcus: Oho! Starting to like me, are ya?

Oriana: ...

Oriana: (Truly, this man is a fool.)

Oriana: There are no swordsmen left in the city who can provide me with an adequate challenge.

Oriana: ...save for you.

Marcus: S'that right?

Oriana: (Regrettably...)

Marcus: So...you wanna fight again, is that it?

Oriana: ...yes.

Marcus: Hahah! You're alright, you know that lady?

Oriana: ...

Oriana: There is one condition.

Marcus: Oh really?

Oriana: If I win...in the future, you must refer to me by my name.

Marcus: Tch. Whatever you say, lady.

Marcus: But if *I* win...hmm...

Marcus: Ah, whatever. I'll think of somethin' later.

Oriana: !

Oriana: (Such impulsive behavior... Has this man no sense of self-control?)

Oriana: Hah!

Marcus: Nope!

Oriana: (His style is...inefficient. He sheathes the blade after every move, rather than keep it drawn...)

Oriana: (Yet...somehow, this man is more of a challenge than any trained swordfighter I have encountered.)

Marcus: Try this!

Marcus: ...huh?

Oriana: Where are you looking?

Marcus: !

Marcus: Nope!

Oriana: !

Oriana: (He parried with the scabbard itself. Intriguing.)

Marcus: Nice trick though. How'd you do that?

Marcus: Something like this?

Oriana: Hm.

Marcus: Gah!

Oriana: (He mimicked my technique?)

Oriana: (It would be insulting, had he not come so close to succeeding...)

Oriana: It would seem I have won again, Mister Hayes.

Marcus: Dammit all...

Oriana: ...

Marcus: ...heh. What, you think I can't get up on my own?

Oriana: It was a simple gesture of courtesy, not an insult.

Marcus: Whatever you say, la-

Marcus: !

Oriana: I won, did I not?

Marcus: ...right. Whatever you say...Oriana.

Marcus: ...did I get your name right?

Oriana: ...yes.

Oriana: And...thank you.

Marcus: Huh?

Oriana: For accepting my condition.

Marcus: ...hah!

Marcus: Just a simple gesture of courtesy, right?

Oriana: ...

Oriana: ...my residence is in the southeastern area of the Salma District, near Cottage Bend.

Marcus: Huh?

Oriana: Should you wish to challenge me again...do not hesitate to come.

Marcus: ...you don't say...

Oriana: ...I would suggest you think more on what you want, in the event you should find yourself victorious.

Marcus: Heh...I'll keep that in mind.

Oriana: Then I look forward to fighting you again, Mister Hayes.

Oriana: Until then...farewell.

Marcus: ...

...but in the presence of friends, sorrow can eventually be forgotten.

A knock on the door drew Dominick's attention away from the wall he'd been staring absently at. He shifted his head against the pillow, but all he succeeded in seeing was the space to his right, just in front of the doorway. With a sigh, he returned his gaze to the wall. "Who is it?"

The response was more knocking, louder this time. Dominick rolled his eyes. "Alright, whatever. Come in!"

The door creaked open, and he heard a few footsteps come his way before it closed again. Tilting his head to the side once more, he saw a blonde-haired woman in a simple white robe looking down at him above folded arms. Veronica seemed more concerned than upset, which Dominick found a bit strange. Then again, he'd given her some cause for it lately. Perhaps, he thought, he shouldn't be so surprised.

Dominick regarded her neutrally for a moment, then sank back onto the bed. For a few seconds, both of them were silent, but then Veronica spoke. "How long has it been since you left this room?"

"Eh, I don't know," Dominick replied, shrugging halfheartedly against the bed. "Few days, maybe."

"Try a week and a half," Veronica offered, unamused.

"That long, huh?" Dominick let out a little sigh, bringing his hands up behind his head and resting it lazily on them. "Well...on the bright side, I learned they have room service here. Not amazing, but it's kind of nice."

If the quip lightened her mood at all, she didn't show it. "I take it things didn't go well?"

At that, Dominick paused a moment. "I guess you could say that." He let out another sigh, longer this time, and wistful. "She made her choice. I made mine. That's all there is to say on the matter."

Veronica peered at him inquisitively for a moment. "If that's the case...why aren't you acting like yourself?"

"I am acting like myself. I get like this sometimes." The thief shrugged again. Curiously, he shifted his gaze over to Veronica, fixing her with a questioning look. "Why aren't you acting like yourself? Usually you'd have kicked me by now for being such an idiot."

"I'm considering it," Veronica admitted. After a moment's pause, she slowly stepped forward and sat down next to him on the bed, folding her hands in her lap. "But I'm not sure how much it'd help right now."

Dominick rolled his eyes and turned away. "You say that like it ever helps."

"It helps me sometimes," she retorted with a slight grin. It faded after a moment, though, and left behind her previous expression of concern. "But I'm not really in the mood anyway."

"Yeah? Well that's a switch." He let out another exasperated sigh. "So what do you want?"

"To make sure you're okay. Why else do I come here?"

"I'm fine."

Veronica sighed too. She planted a hand on the bed next to her and leaned a little on it. "This'll go a lot faster if you just say 'no I'm not.'"

"Fine," Dominick huffed. "I wanted things to work out with me and Ausra. It didn't go the way I wanted it to and I'm not enthused about it. You wouldn't understand, you've never-"

Veronica stared at him for a moment. "I've never what, exactly?"

He paused again, then let out another heavy sigh. When he replied, it was with some somberness in his voice, and a great deal of effort made to avoid eye contact. "You've never had to just...walk away from someone you loved. Something that could have been."

At that moment, Veronica silently expended an enormous effort to fight back the urge to yell at him, to kick him, to call him an idiot, to ask him "Are you kidding me?" Instead she slowly extended a hand to Dominick's cheek, gingerly tilting his head towards her, though he still avoided her gaze. Had he looked, though, he would have noticed a few tears slip out of her eyes as she responded.

"You're wrong," she said softly. And then, after a second's pause, "I do it every time you leave."

Finally, Dominick looked at her. His eyes settled on hers, and his face softened a little at the sight of her tears, though he noticed she remained remarkably composed in spite of them. He sighed briefly. "Is that why you're here, then? To pick me up now that Ausra and I are going our separate ways?"

"No," Veronica answered simply. She pulled her hand away from his face and laid it back on the bed next to him. "I'm here because I care about you. I always have."

A long silence descended over the two of them. Dominick found himself unsure what to say; Veronica simply seemed content with not saying anything. She watched him for several seconds with a concerned expression. Finally, Dominick spoke up, a hint of bitterness present in his tone. "You gonna try to sleep with me to make me feel better like Val did? Take your shirt off, make advances, that sort of thing?"

At that, Veronica was a little surprised, both at the unabashed way he raised the question and at the idea that Valryssa had allegedly done something like that in the past. She managed to keep it from showing, though. "No," she repeated. Slowly, she lifted her legs up onto the bed and laid down on her side next to him, taking care not to get too close. "I'm going to stay right here, and if you want to talk, I'll listen."

Dominick remained quiet for a moment. He shifted his head to the side to look at her. "And if I don't?"

"Then I'll be quiet." Her lips curled upwards into a small smile. "But I'll be here for you either way."

The thief paused again, then gave a short sigh. He shifted onto his side, putting his back to Veronica. "Then I guess you're gonna be quiet for now."

A hint of sadness crept into her features as she regarded him. "I can leave, if you want."

"No," Dominick answered quickly. "You can stay. I just don't want to talk right now." He exhaled heavily. "Well, I do, I just...don't know what to say."

"That's alright," Veronica said soothingly. She shifted a little closer to him to make herself comfortable, but still made sure not to invade his space. With a contented sigh, she closed her eyes.

For a while, Dominick said nothing. He waited at least a half an hour, he surmised, maybe more, and then, convinced that Veronica was asleep, the thief rolled back over to face her. A slight frown spread across his features. He watched her for a few moments; her breathing was slow and even, and she looked to be asleep, though not deeply so.

"You know, I used to think I didn't deserve you," he admitted hesitantly. No response came, so he went on. "Always wondered if I'd done something wrong in a past life to warrant you hassling me all the time. Now..." Dominick reached over and brushed her cheek with his hand. After a quiet sigh, he retracted it. "Now I'm really wondering what I did to deserve you."

He paced about the room, brow furrowed in anxious thought.

"You can't continue this."

His footfalls ceased to give him time to ponder it.

"It's not worth it."

Had it ever been worth it? Or was all this just another dream that he tried so hard to believe could be real?

"It's you or her. Will you keep tearing yourself apart just for the mere chance of making her feel better? Can you?"

He could, he thought. But he could do a lot of things. The question was, should he?

"You've been living by your father's code, the same way she's lived by her mother's. Neither of you realize how much you're restricting yourselves. You're not even your own people."

But then, isn't everyone a product of their upbringing? He had always chastised her for following Diena's teachings; who was he to do that when he couldn't let go of his own lineage?

"Following your parents' teachings isn't a bad thing, but you're both forgetting to make changes to them to suit your own needs."

It hadn't been that long; had he really become so lost so quickly? Again?

"Do you even remember who you are, Dominick?"

He drew his mother's sword and looked at his reflection in it.

"Because if you keep this up, nobody's going to remember you when you die."

His eyebrows slowly went up as he considered that. He tilted the sword just slightly, and now she was visible on it instead of him.

"And that's definitely not the Dominick I-"

The sword had barely enough time to clatter to the floor before he silenced her with a kiss. He enjoyed it for the seconds it lasted, and he knew she did too; even if she'd never admit it to him.

"...you've owed me that for a long time."

After a few moments, he became aware of the fact that his arms were around her, and hers around him. It took a few more moments for him to realize he wasn't entirely uncomfortable with it.

"What would you do without me, I wonder?"

He sometimes wondered that himself, but never where she could hear him.

"Don't forget yourself for the sake of someone else, Dominick."

Her voice was so comforting when it wasn't raised, he thought. So was the gentle smile she now offered him, and so was the warmth of her hand against his cheek.

Dominick stared back at her, his expression softening. Slowly, he mirrored Veronica's smile, hugging her tightly against himself. This was but a modest thank-you, woefully inadequate compared to all she'd done for him, and they both knew it. Yet, they both knew as well that support was not a zero-sum game; it was given and received based on need, and the truth was that Veronica had never needed it as much as Dominick had.

...a man has a debate with his reflection in the mirror.

So...

Yeah, I know, I have to talk to her. She's been recovering, give me a break here.

Do I even know what I'm going to say?

Nope.

Dominick shook his head at the mirror hanging over the dresser. He remembered what that sylvari, Laylanor, had said when they met the other night.

But I should probably think about it.

Yeah, thinking about what to say beforehand might help. I mean, it's just the most important conversation I'm probably going to have with her.

How about "sorry I tried to kill you the other night"?

...

Yeah, probably not a good start.

I don't even know what'd get through to her at this point.

He considered the night in question at the Durmand Priory headquarters.

She's given up on herself.

No shit, so what do I do about it?

I don't know. Let her know she's wrong?

But I gave up on her too when I tried to kill her.

That doesn't mean she's right.

Maybe, but how can I expect her to take me seriously if I'm being hypocritical?

Well, this is the first time I've given up on her. Try that.

...but it's not, because there was that time I panicked and threatened to kill her too.

...son of a bitch.

Kind of ironic, too.

Little bit.

Dominick sighed to himself. He hadn't wanted to threaten her then, and he hadn't wanted to kill her the other night. Yet, both times it seemed the only option...and both times it didn't work.

Maybe I just suck at this.

Probably.

Maybe I'll just...tell her how I feel.

...I don't even know how I feel.

Still love her though.

Do I?

Why the hell else would I be talking to myself in a mirror?

Going insane, maybe. Or I'm just an idiot. Always seems to come back to that.

...come back to... That's it. That's the difference between us.

...yeah. I guess it is.

I always came back.

But does that tell her that I'm right, or that I'm an idiot?

Neither. Just tells her I'm still here for her.

Pretty sure it tells her I'm an idiot.

Fine, maybe it says that too.

The thief grinned a little at his reflection.

So I've got that going for me...what else?

Maybe remind her of how happy we were together?

...I'm not sure "happy" is really the word for it.

What else was it though? It's not like she had a practical use for me.

Somehow I don't think that's going to sway her.

Then I guess I'll have to find a stronger way to say it.

Musingly, his mind wandered back a few years to the aftermath of Aria's death. He remembered how lost he'd been...and what brought him back to reality.

...no.

Hey, it could work.

I'm not Veronica.

But if she taught me anything, it's that it's okay every now and then for someone to punch you in the face to let you know you're acting stupid.

...it's Ausra. She'll probably try to kill me.

Then hit her again! That's what she'd do. And maybe yell some more. Shock and awe, you know.

Reeve would definitely try to kill me.

...

...

He thought again to the night they'd spent at the Durmand Priory headquarters. He'd been locked up after trying to kill Ausra. Alone, defenseless; easy prey. Reeve had come by in the middle of the night, and yet...

Dominick stared at himself with newfound curiosity.

...a man and a woman unwittingly form a bond when their paths - and blades - cross.

Oriana: ...

Duelist: ...

Oriana: (Hm...his form is excellent, as is his defense, but there is a flaw-)

Oriana: (There!)

Oriana: Hah!

Duelist: !

Announcer: Ouch! Looks like the lady Oriana wins again.

Oriana: You fought well.

Duelist: Thanks.

Oriana: Do not panic so much when your opponent advances. My first step was a feint; had you struck then, you could have won.

Duelist: ...really?

Oriana: Indeed.

Announcer: And with that, the self-styled Queen of Roses has won another competition. A round of applause for our victor, please!

Oriana: ...

Oriana: (Is this truly...all there is?)

Marcus: ...hmm...

...

Marcus: Hey! Lady!

Oriana: ...hm?

Marcus: Saw your fights back there. You're not half bad.

Oriana: ...I see.

Marcus: Huh?

Oriana: If you are so dismissive of even my skill, why did you not enter the contest yourself?

Marcus: Eh. No fun if there's no risk.

Oriana: ...are you so eager to die?

Marcus: Nope, I'm just eager to face the possibility.

Marcus: And then cut it to pieces.

Oriana: (What a curious man.)

Oriana: I see.

Oriana: ...you wished to challenge me, then.

Marcus: Haha! You catch on quick.

Oriana: ...very well. I accept.

Marcus: Now that's what I like to hear.

Oriana: !

Oriana: (His speed is remarkable...)

Marcus: Caught you off guard, huh?

Marcus: That's called a "draw."

Oriana: ...you do not know how formal dueling is conducted, do you?

Marcus: Nope!

Oriana: !

Oriana: Hah!

Marcus: Heh, too slow lady!

Oriana: (His form is practically non-existent; he fights with the blade at his side, completely exposed, and yet...)

Marcus: Haha, I *like* this!

Marcus: Try this on!

Oriana: Hm!

Marcus: Gah!

Marcus: Oof.

Oriana: I think not.

Marcus: ...damn. You *are* good.

Oriana: Thank you.

Oriana: (This man...)

Oriana: ...what is your name?

Marcus: Marcus Hayes, at your service darlin'.

Oriana: Very well.

Marcus: ...huh?

Marcus: Not gonna kill me, are you?

Oriana: Why should I?

Marcus: I dunno. I was gonna kill you if I won.

Oriana: ...I have claimed victory already. Your death would be nothing but pointless excess.

Marcus: S'the best kind.

Oriana: And...it would prevent you from challenging me again.

Marcus: ...huh?

Oriana: ...

Marcus: ...

Oriana: ...farewell for now, Mister Hayes.

Marcus: Wha- hey, where are you-

Marcus: That woman...

Marcus: Heh. I guess we'll meet again, huh?

...a man is surprised to find not one, but two people in his room awaiting his return.

Dominick: (Well, that sucked. Man, those Priory cells aren't nearly as good as the ones he-)

Dominick: (...this isn't good.)

Veronica & Valryssa: Dominick.

Dominick: Ladies.

Valryssa: ...

Veronica: ...

Dominick: ...

Dominick: (...and right about-)

Veronica: ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!

Dominick: Ow!

Dominick: (Yep, there it is.)

Valryssa: Y-you just...LEFT me here! I was worried sick about you!

Dominick: Ow! Look I'm sorry-

Veronica: Shut up!

Valryssa: You-

Dominick: Ow!

Valryssa: -and Reeve-

Dominick: Ow!

Valryssa: -and Lady Blackburn-

Dominick: I said I'm-

Valryssa: -y-you all just LEFT me here, w-without a word!

Dominick: Enough, alright?!

Veronica: Val- hey. That's enough for now, sweetie.

Veronica: You did good. Let's at least let him try to explain so we have something else to get angry at him for.

Dominick: ...seriously?

Veronica: Yup.

Valryssa: ...fine.

Dominick: (And yet somehow *I'm* the one that's wanted throughout the city.)

Dominick: Alright, well...I went to find Ausra because I was pretty sure she was going off to kill her father.

Veronica: ...

Valryssa: ...

Veronica: ...you were "pretty sure"?

Dominick: Hey, don't give me that. Turns out I was right.

Veronica: ...what?

Dominick: It's a long story. Let's just...say we got there too late and leave it at that.

Valryssa: "We"? W-who came with you?

Dominick: Quentin, Dranthium...Reeve...

Dominick: You remember Dran, Veronica.

Veronica: Mm, I sure do...

Valryssa: S-so that's where Reeve went...?

Dominick: Unfortunately.

Veronica: So...what happened?

Dominick: Well, turns out Ausra was going to Orr to try and kill herself.

Veronica: ...

Valryssa: ...that's...

Dominick: Yeah.

Dominick: So after a lot of running around, a lot of yelling, and a lot of violence - some of which was misplaced - we managed to take her back to the Durmand Priory headquarters.

Veronica: And how'd that go?

Dominick: I don't really want to talk about it.

Veronica: ...

Valryssa: ...D-Dominick...

Dominick: (Oh gods damn it, is she-)

Valryssa: W-what happened? Please, we've been worried about you...

Dominick: (I can't tell if she's really this emotional about things or just a really good actress.)

Dominick: ...you wouldn't understand.

Valryssa: Y-yes we-

Dominick: No. You wouldn't.

Dominick: Trust me, I'm not...saying this lightly.

Veronica: ...she really rattled you with this, didn't she?

Dominick: ...who, Val?

Veronica: Of course not Val, you idiot! Ausra!

Dominick: ...yeah. I guess she did.

Dominick: (Not just her, but me...)

Veronica: ...

Valryssa: ...

Veronica: Fine. Another time then.

Dominick: ...thanks.

Dominick: Now, if you two don't mind...

Valryssa: W-what is it?

Dominick: I've had a *really* exhausting couple of days, and I'd sort of like my room back for a little while.

Valryssa: O-oh...okay...

Veronica: It's alright, Val. We can bother him again later.

Valryssa: Um...r-right...

Veronica: ...take care, Dom.

Theme song for Dominick and Reeve. Nothing but mutual antagonism, violence, and outright loathing; neither one can stand the other, but nor can they ever seem to be rid of each other.

Title: Nightmare Fiction

Artist: Daisuke Ishiwatari

...a man paces about absently, considering the events of the night in his head.

You should never do less than you are capable of, Dominick.

What I'm capable of...

What am I capable of? I didn't want to see her die, but...

But neither should you do more than is necessary.

A life lived only in misery is a hell worse than any kind of death. Was it wrong for me to try and release her from that? Isn't that what mercy is, sometimes?

Am I going crazy?

There is a precise amount of force required to achieve victory in any situation.

Mother...

I wish I were as good of a judge of these things as you. You and Aria...you always knew when enough was enough.

I don't know where the line is, sometimes, and...

I dunno if you got it in ya, kid.

...it scares me to think he might have been wrong.

Theme song for Dominick and Ausra. Equal parts melancholy, tragedy, and unyielding determination, with just a little bit of hope.

Title: Memory of Tears

Artist: Daisuke Ishiwatari (what would I do without this guy?)

Theme song for Gravij. Resilient, strong, and unwaveringly loyal, but rigidly bound by the chain of authority.

Title: Keep the Flag Flying

Artist: Daisuke Ishiwatari

Theme song for Cerrus. Enigmatic, patient, and calculating, but devoid of empathy or understanding.

Title: Susano'o

Artist: Daisuke Ishiwatari

Theme song for Valryssa. Elegant, graceful, and well-meaning, but gullible, potentially misguided, and torn between wishes and duties.

Title: Condemnation Wings

Artist: Daisuke Ishiwatari

Theme song for Aria. Intense, powerful, driven, and sometimes combative, but not hostile or antagonistic.

Title: Noontide

Artist: Daisuke Ishiwatari

Theme song for Dominick. Carefree, unbound, and self-loyal, but sarcastic, sometimes insensitive, and...well, rebellious.

Title: Rebellion

Artist: Daisuke Ishiwatari