Befouled

Facade

Doran walked out of the bathroom in a tank top and some baggy pants, a peasants garb really. A towel was draped around his shoulders. His hair was still dripping wet but he was free of any blood. He took a few steps into the dining room and sat down at the table, the chair creaking under his immense weight.
The dining room was small, an armor stand in the corner, Amelia's armor haphazardly tossed on the floor next to it. Directly adjacent was an open kitchen, small, with few appliances, only an oven a stove, and a sink. A pot was boiling on the stove, it filled the entire house with a pleasant aroma. The dining room table was small and circular, with a lantern lit in the middle. It was the only light in the room aside from the cool moonlight shining in from the adjacent window.
     Next to the armor stand, hanging on the wall was a portrait of a young, red haired woman. She had a glowing smile plastered across her face, beautiful grayish-blue eyes, and she wore a suit of golden armor, exactly like Amelia's. Amelia stood in front of the painting, staring longingly at it, her hands behind her back. She seemed almost in a trance.
"You were pretty." Doran said, startling Amelia.
"Thanks." She said, walking into the kitchen hastily. "Do those clothes fit alright? Are they comfy?"
     "Not exactly. I mean, you know I'm not exactly used to these types of clothes." He said, looking down at himself and pulling a bit at the neckline of the shirt he wore.
     "I know, I know. Only the best for his majesty Doran." She said, chuckling. Doran snickered.
     "Maybe if they were a bit bigger they wouldn't be so bad." Amelia giggled.
     "I made you dinner." said Amelia, walking towards the table with two bowls of soup.
"I'm not hungry." Doran said, looking down at the table.
"Ah... figures. Well, it's here if you want it," She said quietly, setting a bowl down in front of him, though to him it was closer to a teacup. "Maybe getting something in your belly would help. Plus, you're a growing boy." She joked, smirking. Doran rolled his eyes, as any fifteen year old boy would. "Though, maybe you don't need to grow anymore." She looked up at him.
She walked around the table and took her seat across from him, setting her bowl down. She just looked at it, still smiling slightly. Doran looked up at her and chuckled lightly.
"What's funny?" She asked.
"Not hungry either, eh?" he chuckled a little more, sniffling intermittently, just the faintest smile stretching across his face.
"No, I suppose not." she too chuckled for just a moment, still staring down at her bowl. Silence enveloped the room. She let out a sigh. "Doran, what happened?" She said, looking up and into his eyes.
"I don't know Amelia," he said shortly, his smile fading. "I walked into the alley, saw them-"
     "Them?" Amelia cocked her head to the side.
     "A mother and her daughter. I saw them getting mugged and I just..." he stopped.
"Woke up? It all went black and then you came to, surrounded by blood?" She said, knowingly.
"Yeah..." he said in an exhale.
"I understand. I mean, I haven't had the same experience or anything, but I've seen it in the field. It's terrifying, waking up to the realization that you just did something horrible."
Doran was silent, just staring down at the table. Amelia followed suit, only stirring her soup a bit.
     "Why were you so enthralled by that portrait earlier?" Doran said. "It's like it had you hypnotized or something."
     "Oh, just... reminiscing. I'm getting older y'know? I'm almost thirty-one. Nearly ten years since that painting was made," she laughed nervously.
     "I was a little kid." Doran chuckled.
     "You sure were." She smiled faintly.
"So, how was your day?" Doran said after a pause, looking up.
"Oh, I shouldn't get into it." She looked down.
"Are you serious, Amelia?" He lowered his head, trying to meet her eyes.
"What?" She looked back at him.
"You realize how stupid that sounds right now, right?" Amelia paused a moment, her lips pursed thinking of a response.
"It was... it was fine. It was fine Doran. Uneventful. Normal." She emphasized 'normal', sort of leaning into it.
"You just said you 'shouldn't get into it' and now it was just fine?"
"Just drop it Doran." She said sternly.
Doran sat back in his chair, huffing. He looked around the room. His eyes narrowed, noticing the pile of armor in the corner. His brow furrowed.
"What is it now?" Amelia said, noticing his expression change.
"Why is your armor on the floor?" Doran said coldly. "And why didn't you clean it?"
"I just didn't worry about it, I was cooking."
"You never treat your armor like that."
"Yeah, well today was an exception, I was worried about you."
"Worried about me?" He flicked his eyes to hers. "You mean you didn't think to put it up or even just toss it in the sink for later while the soup was cooking?" He raised his eyebrows, sitting up.
"I guess not." She said.
"Bullshit." He said, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
"Excuse me?"
"I call Bullshit. That's not why."
"What are you trying to get at Doran?"
"Something happened and you aren't telling me. Tell me what happened Amelia."
     Amelia sighed.
"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Denali discharged me."
     Doran's face shot up, he looked her in the eyes.
"He what?"
"He discharged me. Dishonorable discharge at that. I am no longer general." Doran stayed silent. "He thought I was conspiring against him." She paused. "which I definitely was, he was right." She shrugged. "Truthfully I'm staggered he didn't-" She stopped, looking over at the unusually silent Doran. He stood from his seat, his towel falling off of his shoulders and made for the door, his stomps shaking the building.
"Doran, what are you doing?" she said, to no response. "Doran!" She stood up and followed him. "Doran! Come on! Now isn't the time! Just calm down and come back!" No response. "Doran!"
Doran stepped out of the door, slamming it shut.
He walked down the dark street, nostrils flared, gritting his teeth, brow still furrowed. The cold night air bit at his exposed shoulders and arms, but he didn't care. Revenge was all he had eyes for at this point.
The Palace dominated the skyline, a shimmering monolith amidst the dark, dismal cityscape. The streets were dotted with few civilians, making their way home from work and other daily activities. A few stopped, watching the nearly topless man walking through the bitter cold, unphased. He kept walking, his breath quickening in his anger.
     "Empty your pockets!" A man shouted, jumping in front of Doran from an alleyway before quickly retreating at the sight of him.
The palace gates were close now, the great steps leading up to them only a couple more yards away, there were several golden clad knights standing guard, but none stopped him, all bowing their heads as he passed. He continued up to the gates and flung them open.