Author’s note: In this chapter, the word Drow is used. This does not specify a character’s race, but their loyalty. If an elf who does not agree with what they consider the “norm” of loyalty, we refer to them as a drow. This can be anywhere from betraying their kingdom or associating with races other than elves, aka orcs, dwarfs, and humans.
"Ah… I guess I will have to take a different approach this time, then. How is your mother? Doing well still?" When that didn't get a rise out of Shafir, the other let out a loud sigh and put his hand to his chin to think of something else. Shafir could see the gears turning in his head from the way he furrowed his brow in thought. "Ah! I know! That sweet captain of yours! He's been an awful pain in the ass lately! Why don't I just get rid of him for you? This way, you can be the new captain."
Shafir knew this would be the next thing the man would poke at. He knew about Shafir's loathing and animosity towards Eliqinor, as it wasn't something he hid. Everyone knew the contempt they both held for each other. It had been that way since he could remember, and it hadn't stopped. When Shafir didn't budge, his double sighed and shrugged his shoulders. Hopefully, this meant he had given up. "The captain is an insignificant issue for me. He's easy enough to avoid."
"Oh? Perhaps there is something you wish to tell me about this captain of yours?" Eliqinor was an annoyance. A manageable one, but still an annoyance. A twisted smile distorted Shafir's face that the man wore and a sadistic laugh left his mouth. "Oh, I see now. So that's how it is. Hilarious. You actually care about the captain."
"I do not care for him," Shafir snapped and could feel his anger crawling under his skin. He did not care about Eliqinor. How could someone mistake his loyalty as something more? He couldn't stand Eliqinor. Every time he saw him, his blood would boil uncontrollably.
"You know how your curse affects those you care for, Shafir. You should be more careful or something unsavory could happen to your precious captain." Without thinking, Shafir reached out and grabbed the imposter, quickly throwing him to the ground. “Oh, ho ho. Seems like that got a reaction out of you. To think a cold, indifferent man like you could only be riled up by the thought of you being the reason Eliqinor died?” His chest heaved with his erratic breathing and he lunged at the other, trapping him against the ground. His hands gripped around the other dark elf’s neck and he felt his fingers tighten.
He hated him… He wanted him dead…
He hated him…
He hated himself…
“Shut up. Just shut up,” Shafir spat out as he pressed his fingers into the other’s neck, forcing a squeaky laugh to escape. He just wanted this over and if he could finally end him here, then that would be for the best. He wouldn’t have to live with this cloud of the curse over his head anymore. It might be hard to get rid of the curse once the asshole died, but at least he’d have a good night of sleep.
“Hah… You w-will be his downfall…” The dark elf rasped out in pain and Shafir closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t have to watch as he cut off the man’s life. This was what he needed to do. What he wanted to do, but soon enough, warm hands wrapped around his wrists. Something was wrong. Shafir knew what his own gloves felt like against his skin, but this felt like something bare. He hadn’t realized he had been crying until he opened his eyes and was met with a blurry sight of blonde hair and fair skin. He blinked once, twice, three times before his vision cleared and Shafir saw the one person he never wanted to be on the other side of his murderous intent.
“Stop it. Stop using his face!” Shafir couldn’t bring himself to keep squeezing, but he knew this was what the bastard wanted. To shake him off his resolve and have him let go, so he wouldn’t lose his life. It conflicted with him. Did he end this man's life and be done with it? Or let him go to let him torture him another day. Just as Shafir decided, the other opened his mouth to speak.
“I swear I’m going to die because of you.” The sound of Eliqinor's voice leaving the familiar face snapped Shafir out of his rage and he stumbled back. There was no reason for the man to sound so uncannily similar. When he took on the form of others, it was never so accurate before. HE replicated even the slightly sophisticated tone that Eliqinor had to perfection. It was almost like he had been strangling his captain. Shafir's hands covered his face as he saw the imposter struggle to stand up.
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