Chapter Text
Papa also said, “Hold onto each other.”
The life of an immortal is filled with nothing but regrets and a bone weary tiredness.
As Verso barely manages to parry another of Maelle’s blows, pain radiating up his arm as their weapons collide, he is reminded of how truly and deeply tired he is.
He just wants it to be over.
For years and years, that’s all he’s ever wanted. For all this pain and misery to end, to stop this constant cycle of grief from consuming everyone he’s ever loved. Yet here he is again. Still fighting, still watching someone he loves kill themselves for a fantasy, still alive when he has no right to be.
Then there is Maelle.
So strong and brave and alive. Yet here she is throwing it all away for a beautiful dream that will ultimately ruin her. Everything that she is will be stripped away if she stays. All of her spirit, her fearlessness, her wonder, all of that would disappear. The canvas would consume her.
Verso watched it happen with Maman, he’ll be damned if he lets it happen again.
“Please Verso. I don’t want to fight, can’t we go home and talk about this?” Maelle pleads, desperation in her voice.
Verso looks at her sadly, willing her to understand and accept things as they are and not how she wants them to be. Neither of them drop their guard. The infamous Dessendre stubbornness, Verso thinks ruefully to himself.
In the silence that follows he watches as she steels herself, the resolve in her eyes clear even as the tears begin to fall. Her posture shifts and Verso readies himself for another onslaught.
They remain that way for a time, locked in a brutal stalemate. Bitterly, Verso wonders if this is how Maman and Papa had dueled all those years ago. He wonders if this battle isn’t a prelude to yet another fracture that will lead this canvas in further despair. That thought alone is enough to force himself continue despite the pain.
Despite his exhaustion, every one of his senses feels heightened. He can keenly feel the blood rushing through his veins, the sound of metal upon metal, and the coppery taste in his mouth. Verso’s nearly at his limit when he sees an opening.
It’s a short lapse, but it’s enough.
The sound of a rapier hitting the ground is deafening.
The blow was enough to knock Maelle off her feet, wounded and utterly defenseless. She looks up at him in desperation when she realizes the position she’s in. For a moment, he sees his Alicia. A little girl born into a world that was far too unkind to her. Someone who deserved so much more than Verso could ever have given her.
With Verso’s sword pointed at her chest, a mere few inches away from Maelle’s heart, he knows that he should end this. All he needs to do is land this final blow and they can both finally be free. Maelle could be with her real family and they could finally work through their grief. And Verso-
Verso could finally find peace.
Countless lives had been lost in pursuit of this moment, for this singular chance. Every lie he’s told, every person he’s used, every part of himself that he’s lost has amounted to this. And yet, his hand trembles and he hesitates.
Verso hesitates because of a simple and inescapable truth:
A core part of Verso Dessendre, real or imitation, is that he loves his sister.
He can’t bare to see her hurt, much less by his own hand. The canvas may have stripped him of many of his morals and ideals, but it had never been able to rid him of his love for his family. No matter what atrocities he had committed or how much of monster he had become over the years, he had always loved his family above all else.
It’s as much as a blessing as it is a curse.
Sometimes, when Verso was consumed by some of his darkest thoughts, he wondered if the love he felt was real. Aline, ever the powerful Paintress and grieving mother, could have made him this way. In the aftermath of losing her son, she could have created an idealized version of him. A son who loved too much. A brother who would always protect his sisters. A man who would do anything for those he cared for.
“Verso.”
As he looks down at Maelle’s trembling form, he can’t bring himself to care about the truth of it. While Verso stares into her desperate eyes, all he can think about are all the memories he holds deep within his fractured heart.
The nights when he and Alicia would sneak out of their rooms like little thieves, just so Verso could play the piano for her when she had trouble sleeping.
The times when Alicia would make a failed attempt at cooking just to get Verso to smile when, under the weight of his responsibilities and expectations, he couldn’t hide behind his usual mask.
The moment when Alicia finished her first canvas and Verso was the very first person she wanted to show it to.
And then there’s newer memories.
There’s sparring with Maelle, both of them loving the thrill of a fight, and her voice teasing him as she calls Verso an old man.
There’s watching Maelle as she experiences snow for the first time. So full of wonder, awe, and mischief right before she throws a
snowball at Verso’s face.
There’s the night before. Maelle, with all her memories as Alicia, looking up at him with so much love and hope and asking if he would play for her again.
All these memories and emotions come crashing down around him. Verso is helpless against all of it. It’s his sister. His Alicia. His Maelle. Another Verso died for her once, and he knows that he would’ve made the same choice. He would always want her to live.
He would give absolutely anything for that.
But this Verso has had the misfortune of experiencing immortality. He knows better than anyone what it’s like to live as a husk of yourself, to live a life you have never asked for.
How could he force that upon his little sister?
His sword sinks into the ground, right before Maelle’s feet, and Verso falls onto his knees. He doesn’t let go of the hilt. Slumped against his weapon, Verso refuses to look at Maelle any longer. He’s not strong enough, not when his choice may still doom Maelle and himself.
What would happen if she remains? Would she keep her word to Papa? Would the people of Lumiere come back, happy and whole? Would she actually be stronger than Maman, and leave?
What would happen if she leaves? Would she find the closure that Verso wants for her? Would this canvas and everyone in it be destroyed? Would all traces of the real Verso Dessendre be removed from the world?
“The world truly continues to force us into cruel choices,” Verso whispers to himself.
This may be his last chance to convince her to live, to truly live.
Verso takes a steadying breath, “Maelle, you have to live.”
“Why can’t you understand?” Maelle’s voice cracks as she speaks, “That’s not a life out there! There’s nothing out there for me. Not like in here. Here, I have a family, a body, a voice. In here I have-“ She cuts herself off but they both know what she was going to say next.
In here, I have you.
The unspoken words linger in the air as an ever present weight.
The ghost of Verso Dessendre might always haunt them.
For once though, Verso embraces this sad truth. If it means he can save his sister, he’ll do damn near anything. “He-“
No, that won’t work. Not if he wants to convince her.
What’s another lie at this point?
Verso finally looks up into her eyes, “I didn’t die for you to throw your life away like this.”
Maelle recoils as if she’s been physically hit. Her breathing comes out ragged, and she’s choking back a sob as the tears flow freely down her face. “No. No, no. No. That’s not fair. Verso that’s not fair.”
It’s not, but he’s never played fair to begin with.
He crawls towards her shaking form. When she’s in arm’s length he brings her into his embrace, holding her tight. Verso rocks her back and forth, gently, like he used to do when they were little.
He shushes her gently, “I know it’s not. But the truth does not need to be kind nor fair to exist.”
They stay like that for a while, holding each other in this unreal realm. As he holds Maelle, he briefly thinks of his Alicia. Wistfully, he finds himself thinking that if things had been different, he could have said goodbye to her, just like this. Verso holds Maelle a little tighter at the thought of how precious this moment is.
Verso pulls away to look into her eyes as he says, “Maelle, you have to leave this canvas. Please, Maman, Papa, and Clea are out there waiting for you. There’s nothing here for you, you have to let go.”
“No.”
“Maelle-“
“No, you listen to me now Verso,” she says, blue eyes shinning with determination. “I’ll go, but you have to promise me something.”
Relief floods though his veins, but dread quickly follows. If she is willing to leave the canvas, then whatever she asks of Verso will come at a high cost. He feels the weight of his immortality in the back of his mind.
“This canvas matters.” Maelle shakes her head when she sees him open his mouth to interrupt. “I know that you want me to go, that you think it’s for the best. We have to put Verso to rest and say goodbye, but that doesn’t mean I have to let go of everything about him. That doesn’t mean I stop loving him and everything’s he’s created.”
“Trying to erase him won’t solve the problem, it’ll only make things worse.” Her hands tremble as she grabs his face. “This canvas matters and not just because Verso created. You can’t tell me that none of this matters, that our friends don’t matter!”
Verso moves to get out of her grasp, suddenly feeling caged in, but she holds him in place. “Maelle- “
“No, if I have to live out there then everyone has to live in here.” Her gaze softens as she continues speaking, “That includes you.”
This time he does break out of her hold, “No Maelle, I can’t. I can’t keep living forever. Please, please don’t make me. I can’t. I need you to unpainted me.”
They’re still close enough that Maelle is able to punch him in the chest. “Listen to me for once, you stubborn old man.”
Maelle lifts her hand again and Verso braces himself, expecting another punch, but instead finds a palm right above his heart. It’s such a tender touch that it stuns him into silence. It’s been so long since anyone has treated him this gently.
“I won’t make you live forever, I promise. I know how that much has tormented you.” Maelle avoids looking directly into his eyes as she speaks. “But I can’t watch you die in front of me again. Not when I actually have a chance to change it.”
Finally she looks up at him with a sad smile, “I just want you to have one good life, Verso. Just one, where you have the chance to be happy.”
Verso is so very tired.
But Maelle is looking at him with so much love and hope.
His sister gets to live.
“Okay, Maelle. I’ll try.” As the words leave his lips, he wonders if he’s told another lie.
Somewhere behind them, forgotten in the midst of their duel, a little boy watches. No one notices when his brush stokes come to a stop.