Wheeling Gull Isle xviiii. letting your guard down is honourable

@Daegon (set a day or so after this)

The golden creep of morning over the Isle found her long awake though rested slightly better than in the nights of fort past.

The nightwisp had taken to one of the nooks hidden within the grottos of the eastern shore for her nest - a cumilating pile of pelts, feathers, moss, that had been growing since washing ashore. Small curiosities - including the mauve shell that brought blush to her cheeks - glistened in display within stone grooves and crevices, lit by the errant beams that fell through the cracks of her roof. 

It was from here that the shadow slipped as the island's winged populace began to stir, birdsong and throaty calls ringing through the forests as the flocks took to flight. A sweep of Wheeling Gull and the Lady would turn for the innards of the woodland, bound for her gardens for a morning of fulfilling work and quiet reflection. 

The wisp's soul ached for her Muña as she swept over the tilled rows in a blackened arc, muzzle sheened with loam as she toiled - snipping errant growth and choking weed from the roots of her seedlings tenderly. She could not relax into the small universe of the plants and their needs without her mind turning to her mother, to all the days spent in Lirea's plots. 

Her gaze flickered over the newly formed gardens, finding solace in the thought of it blooming into something beautiful - a living structure, delicate in its intricateness - even if Muña was not here to witness it.

Daegon woke with a yawn, stretching and then freezing when he realized he couldn't feel his love's warmth at his side. He listened for a few seconds, ears turning to take in any sounds outside that might mean she had just stepped out briefly, but all he heard was the crashing of water on rock and the occasional squawk of a sea bird. After their first night together, he hadn't wanted to sleep alone anymore; he had spent enough nights with only his thoughts and longing to keep him company, and he didn't plan on spending anymore that way. 

Rising to his feet, he shook out his autumn coat and padded from the cave. He picked up her scent almost right away and immediately began to follow it down the beach and then inland towards the forest. As he moved, he idly wondered if she minded that he had just inserted himself into her private space. He, honestly, couldn't help it. When she wasn't near him, he felt lost. She was already his anchor--his port in the storm. And although it wasn't exactly practical or fair for him to demand her attention every second of every day, he couldn't stop himself from seeking her out now just because. 

Her trail led through the trees, becoming fresher as the forest thinned into a clearing where he saw her diligently working over what appeared to be gardens. She was definitely in her element, and it showed in the meticulous way she worked. He had no doubt that the plants would flourish under her expert care.

He quickly moved towards her, a soft chuff leaving his chest as he neared. Taking a seat, he couldn't help the slight pout in his expression as he stated: You were gone when I woke.

She might've started - were it anyone else. 

As it is, she has always been aware of him, even when separated. As if a magnifying force pushed them together, she was pulled forth at the sight of him - more so at the lack of, a fraction of her mind always devoted to his whereabouts and pondering when he might be with her once more. 

It would be sickening in its sweetness if she weren't so deliriously happy. 

That same draw was what tugged her towards him - tail picking up a wag and lips tilting to beam in his direction as she caught sight of him - on nimbling steps with deliberate delay, allowing her halfgaze to roam over him with similar idle appreciation. 

"I'm sorry, love," she murmured when she had reached his side, extending on her toes to brush her lips over his jowls placatingly - her lilt vaguely affected by bemusement at his boyish antics. "I'm not used to sleeping."

His presence in her bed was a most welcome one, Rhælla had felt she might burst into tears the first night he appeared outside her den - readily pulling him over the threshold to join her. There was little that topped the feeling of being wrapped in her lover's embrace, free to at last hold each other in the night. His touch stayed her night terrors but she'd grown accustomed to sleeping sparingly - it would take some time before she could doze soundly through the night, even with Daeg there to hold her - and they did not abate completely, instead morphing into something altogether new. 

The terror and memories were displaced, the visions taken over by imagery of her past and present - intermixed with confusing snippets of distorted realities and things that had yet to be. Daegon featured in many, both in her recollections of the Kingdom and in the glimpses of her future. Though she enjoyed the dreams, she couldn't deny that they unnerved and disturbed her - her great-granddam was rumored to have been gifted with sight yet Rhælla put little stock in such notions. 

Still, as her lilac orb grazed over the form of her lover - the most recent figment replayed in her mind's eye. 

A moon's phase and more had passed before she was granted permission to attend Icadearian Court. Lucavon and his mother had concocted a fib about an illness contracted on the journey from her Empire to dissuade any suspicion or speculation about the newly crowned Queen's absence. 

The truth of it was that they'd spent the time breaking her down, molding her into something compliant - a marionette to jerk and make dance upon strings. 

She'd fought - oh, how she'd fought - but she'd proven weak; the tear of her flesh and crunch of her bone spiting her inner vows to remain silent, remain detached, remain unfractured. 

In the end, what use was it? Better to save herself some pain - and some flesh - even if it meant bowing. She could be compliant, meek, she could survive. 

There was some joy to be had on this day, for at last she would feel the warmth of sun on her skin. She would breathe fresh air, drink in the sights of forests and birds and people with deprived, ravenous eyes. 

And though their religion was not the same as her own, she would be permitted to join the congregation.

Lucavon had forbidden her to practice her craft or commune with her gods but she'd become skilled in adopting an expression of false attentiveness - allowing her thoughts to wander within the freedom of her mind, where even Lucavon could not harm her.  

The caverns of the Icadearian holy grounds were not as welcoming as the Steeple of her father's gods - though perhaps she was biased in this - yet, it felt as wondrous as heaven itself after the confinement she'd endured. And no one looked at her oddly, in this place of worship, for the tears that freely coursed her cheeks. 

As she begged her gods - old and new - with silent urgency, she was but another overcome woman amongst the assemblage, discernable only by the rage in her eyes that set her apart. 

It was as her prayers died and her gaze lifted that she met his - inferno against purple fire. Intense, heated, unreadable as he stared from across the room packed with bodies. 

Those eyes would star in her dreams, the spotlight of the visions that began to flood in - that very night. 

Even then, he'd been her destiny though she hadn't yet known it, she thinks as her eye wanders - made certain by the clarity of the nightvisions after their reunion. 

Not only this but the glimpses from the night before. 

A winter that had not come yet, a night where she was found in her mate's arms - surrounded by their pack, their family. Laughter was abundant as liquor and tale passed and shared, the Lady abstaining as her husband brushed his muzzle tenderly across her swollen stomach. 

Fuzzy, unfocused children in all shade of fire and smoke and soot with eyes of flame and sea and amethyst. Days of sunshine and racing along the beach, her chiding tones teasing their children about the sand they'd coated themselves in and how their father would not recognize them for it. 

A dark daughter brushed by copper, a bairn of her own tucked between her paws. Rhæ's voice teasing as it whispered in Daeg's ear that they should have a few more, before they got too old.

Aye, she cherished the dreams. She could only pray to her gods that they came true, were not but the imaginations of a slumbering mind - yet, they were so vivid, so startling that they drove her from sleep, from her mate's arms. A blessing and a curse. 

At last, she tore her gaze reluctantly from him, allowing it to cast about the gardens. "I've finished up here if you'd like to go somewhere," the niteborn suggests, an idea forming. The rains had dampened the soil and watered her infant plantlings - she'd woken to the drum of it against their cave in the grey of dawn though she'd only pressed closer against the fires of Daegon's pelt, allowing herself to drift back into the black void of a peaceful sleep. The infant foliage should be fine for now. 

"There's a hidden cove on the eastern shores that I'm fond of, I thought you might like to see it," she adds, chewing her lip shyly.

Seeing her look at him with such joy made his heart pick up speed and beat irregularly against his rib cage. He would literally do anything to ensure that she was always that happy; she deserved it more than anyone. He returned her affection with a nuzzle to her cheek, lingering to draw her scent deep into his lungs. No apology needed, he said softly as he pulled away to look into her face. I just miss you when you're not near.

Concern flickered across his face as she mentioned her lack of sleep. He knew what kinds of terror plagued her past, even without knowing all the infuriating details, and he wouldn't be surprised if they plagued her dreams, as well. Maybe she was stressed with all she had taken on? That was something he would happily help with. 

And if he had known what memory was currently at the front of her mind, his stomach would have tightened and his gaze would have heated much like the day he first saw her. He, too, remembered that day well. He remembered her beauty grabbing his attention almost immediately, but it was more than just an attraction; something inside her had called to the deepest parts of his soul, and he knew then that she was his. And then she had met his gaze, and his heart had stopped and then suddenly pounded in his chest. It had taken everything in him to keep from parting that sea of bodies and closing the distance between them. But, he had resisted that time and every other time after, dying a little each day as he watched her from the shadows.

She looked away and started speaking before he could ask what was interrupting her sleep. When she suggested that they explore a hidden cove, he smiled, concern momentarily on hold. I would love nothing more, he said first. Lead the way, Daeg added, dipping his head. Then, a little more seriously, he added: Maybe, on the way, you can tell me what keeps you from sleep?

She acquiesced with a gentle smirk, crown dipping once as she slipped past to pad into the forest - his next words causing her features to pinch with concern. 

"The dreams," she answers honestly, soft as silk, though her gaze remained fixed on the trees as they walk abreast, lest he sense her unease. "They are...vivid, foretelling." A grimace graced her features, awaiting a scoff of disbelief to fall from his lips - she's not even sure she can grasp it. 

"My grandam's mother was said to have been a seer," she murmurs, lower than before, in the tones of admission. "Sæla the Sleeper, she was called - for her nightvisions."

"I have seen many a thing but I lack experience in the supernatural. I know not if I think myself to have inherited her gift, if such a thing ever even existed. Mayhaps they are nothing more than dreams."

She fell silent, allowing her mind to wander to her heritage and the folklore of Lirea - wondering if there was any stock to the fables and tales of her people or if it was merely a hyperactive mind, overworked by stress.

Daegon had heard stories of such seers, but he had yet to meet one for himself. That didn't mean he didn't think they existed. Many things in this universe were far beyond his ability to understand, and he wouldn't even try to claim that he knew whether or not such things were true. If anything, the bond between them made him more likely to believe that certain wolves had the ability to see what could happen in the future. It was as if she were made for him, like everything in him was made to pair perfectly with everything in her, and there was no denying, at least for him, that their love seemed almost predestined.

If the dreams feel like something more to you, than I think you should trust your instincts, he answered thoughtfully. And, you can always talk to me about them, even if it means waking me up in the middle of the night. He would support her however she needed.

Trust - one word, five letters, and yet it held so much. 

How long since she'd trusted - anything? Oh, she'd been innocent once, a girl of dreams and hopes and ballads but the world had snuffed out that girl long ago. Lucavon, Daegon's loss, Rhaelyx's betrayal, the years of solitude had all hardened her, turned her features to stone and petrified her heart against others; even herself was not safe. 

Violet drifted to him, heavy with searching. 

Who could be more worthy of her trust than he? 

"They began the day Lucavon at last allowed me to join the public...the day I saw you," the wisp reveals, lilt quieted to a whisper, the truth curling between them - reaching within to curl around her fluttering heart. 

"They were...chaotic - hazy figments of clashing bodies, snapping jaws." Lucavon falling, dark paws racing, unfamiliar lands, a pelt of auburn. 

"After my banishment they were jumbled, muddled. They disippated, replaced by horrors," the Queen of Shards swallowed thickly, shoulders curling as she shuddered, clouded gaze unfocused as it lowered. 

"Until you returned to me," the Seelie murmured, halfgaze drifting up to his - a honeyed smile softening her tormented expression. 

"You brought the dreams with you; they returned in full force -memories of you and the Kingdom, glimpses of our future," her voice dropped bashfully, head tilted from him slightly so the warrior might not see the hope in her eye. 

"I pray they are real." 

She seemed to deeply consider his offer, as if there was more to it than just the promise of support. He met her searching gaze, his expression reassuring.

When she mentioned the first time they saw each other, his gaze heated and his heart began to beat faster, pounding against his ribcage. I knew then, after one look, that we were meant to be together. I could feel it in every part of me. He had never told that to anyone, but he didn't feel strange telling her now. It couldn't all be just coincidence. 

As always, talk of her banishment brought feelings of immense guilt and fury. If only he hadn't been injured, he would have been able to save her so much pain.

When she continued, he glanced to her, curiosity painting his expression. He hated that he had caused painful memories to resurface for her, but he also wondered... What kind of things do you see in our future? Daegon asked as fear tinged his curiosity a little. What if she saw only more destruction and despair for them?

A tremor - a microscopic quake, equal parts hope and fear - shakes within his timbres, as if his breath caught and he was forced to swallow against the swell of treacherous emotion. It lends courage to her tremulous gaze, lavender ticcing with clarity as it settled upon his features with familiarity. 

"It is beautiful," she wisps, anxiety overcome in the need to reassure him. 

Perhaps that is love, in its truest form, a philosophical voice muses from the corners of her mind, to kill one's own demons to slay another's. 

"They are but flickering images yet they are filled with light and laughter and love," a smile furled over her lips, head ducking as she brushed against him, the words dropping to a whisper.

He relaxed at her reassurance, smiling in response to her affection. Good; that is what you deserve, he said quietly, nuzzling her cheek. After everything, she deserved at least that. 

He glanced around, taking in the sandy beach on one side and the vast ocean on their other side. Daegon raised a curious eyebrow at her. This cove, is it close? he asked. He was excited to explore a new part of the island, and he was sure it would be a lovely sight if it drew his love enough for her to lure him there.