The dungeon is cold and the stone heavy around him. It feels like home. Samson has spent most of his life being the jailer, being the one to stand the other side of bars- visible or not- and being this side is just as he thought it would feel.
That feeling validates him.
The bars are oppressive and the air stale, the itch to pace scratching at him. He has many regrets, but trying to tear it all down so that no one would know a cage unless they deserved it is not one of them.
Nothing changes in his cell when he hears of Divine Victoria’s ruling, the freedom now guaranteed to every mage, the abolishing of lyrium being fed to templars- Samson is still in his cell. He is still caged, but those that shouldn’t be caged are now free.
He smiles, arms folded and head tipped low. “We did it, Maddox.” He says softly, closing his eyes and remembering the little paper birds he never got to deliver.Fic by akaiba