Ozen

Not Strong Enough

Not Strong Enough

Ozen looked down at his hands; the blood had dried onto his knuckles. He could see some bruises forming along with swelling. He had lost his temper again. He took it out on a tree again. He frowned, sniffling a little due to the snot trying to leave his nasal cavity. He had spent the last ten minutes or so sobbing and screaming. He had bottled up his emotions again.

I’m not strong enough for this.

The ring stared back at him. He couldn't take it off. Arwin had her grip on him, just as she did before. He tried to leave, but he couldn't. Not only because of the spell, he was slightly likely to fall in love with her. When he was home, she treated him like a king. She made love to him; she made sure he was fed and cared for. Then, there was that lingering thought in his mind: what if she became pregnant? It was only a matter of time before it happened. That was a part of his meltdown; he wasn't ready to be a father. He had dreams of a son being just like him. He couldn't deal with that. He didn't want them to grow up in a toxic environment. The only plus side he could think about was Lilly being the best aunt and Zevran being the crazy uncle who would teach him how to be sneaky. Ozen didn't want a son; he didn't want a daughter. Arwin always talked about having a family. How much she'd love to have a family. How she would be the perfect mother. Ozen couldn't tell if she was causing him to feel guilty or if it was the effects of the ring.

It could be one of the same.

Dorian. What would he think about all of this? Ozen cared about his opinions. Dorian was a close friend to him. Ozen frowned at the thought of Dorian. He wanted to be so much more with him, but everything inside of him was causing him to back away. Ozen swore at the thought that seemed to plague his mind, the instant anxiety he felt in his chest. She had a tight fucking grip on him. There was no way he could even think on his own. He was alone, fucking lost. He wanted out of this fucking marriage, but she was here having a grip on him. She was tricking him to love her. She was the mastermind manipulating the puppet strings that were on his back. The mere thought of having any relations with anyone else besides her caused him pain. It caused him to worry and voices in his head. It caused him to fucking scream with fear. She was a magic user; she could do anything to him. She was the one who made this cursed ring. It was tightening his finger already.

“Get out of my head!” Ozen screamed, sheer panic rushing through his head. He gripped his head, fingernails digging into his scalp as his knuckles pulsed. If he thought about Dorian anymore, his finger was going to bleed. There was going to be an aching pain in his hand; the pain would shoot up his arm and shoot to his chest. Maybe it was the anxiety; it could all be in his head for all he fucking knew. He screamed, pulling his knees to his chest as he rocked his body. He could feel the cold earth under him, smell the hint of dust in the air; he could feel the breeze brushing his skin. He shuddered. There was a storm coming. He had to get back to the village before it rained. He had to fucking go BACK THERE. He screamed again, tears streaming down his face as his eyes squeezed shut. He saw different colors behind his eyelids. He could hear her voice, her soft voice whispering to him to come back to her. She was like a siren. Her voice was enough to make him come back to her. It was as if the magic was in her voice. His thoughts went to Zevran and Dorian. He wished he could leave the village and be out with them again. At least when he was out doing his assassination work, he was with two people who cared about him. If he left the village again, though, his father threatened to kill him.

Only when Ozen gave Arwin a child.

“Come home to me, please, Ozen.”

“FUCK YOU!” He screamed, his voice echoing into the night air, “I hate you, Arwin.” He couldn’t say that enough. He hated that fucking witch.