Rising Sun Valley Twirled into the arms of disgrace and then repelled

@Lestan <3

In the dead of night Reverie slipped away from Lestan, away from Swiftcurrent Creek. Morning was on the horizon, and she could stay no longer. Every moment she was here was another moment that her brothers could arrive. Another moment Lestan was in danger.
So Reverie fled the Creek, before it was too late. Except... it already was. The scent hit her first, and she froze.
Heck.

:O

reverie would stay.
lestan slept sound in this knowledge, but he woke to find her gone. he looked through the shadows for her, coming alive at once.
his whispers darted through swiftcurrent.
he found her outside the pack, in the valley beyond; lestan followed and then was caught in the sweet velveteen of her scent.
but why was she here??
he stood watching her, trembling, not daring himself to come closer.

He returned to Swiftcurrent Creek without really knowing why. Everett and Evander would have his head, probably, if there was anything left of him to pick over after Arric and the other Creek wolves finished with him. Tybault knew it was stupid and dangerous and stupidly dangerous to top it all off, yet he did not turn back.
He had to find her. She was dying. Nothing else mattered.
Tybault did not expect to find her so immediately, however. He certainly didn't expect her to run right into his path. She was frozen, a deer in the headlights, and he knew that any moment now she would run. He took a breath, thinking quickly, but the only idea that came to him was too cruel to consider. But... did he have a choice? If the options were let her die, or take that leap and become the villain she seemed to think he was —
Ophelia, He called across the distance between them, and it hurt to do it. But he had to.

Tybault, on his way to the Creek. Tybault, already in the process of ruining everything that was precious to her now. She felt a hot swell in her chest, anger like never before. Was this the feeling that drove people to things like murder? It seemed so easy to understand, here and now. Reverie was a little horrified with herself even now — but not for long.
Ophelia, like a gunshot, but this time it was deliberate. He meant to hurt her, to send her to that dark place where she could not advocate for herself. And what right did he have? Why did he get to decide for her?
No.
No, she wouldn't let him. He couldn't have her.
Fuck you, Tybault! Reverie shrieked, and ran while she still could. While she still knew up from down, before reality slipped away. She didn't know what she would do next. She only knew that he could not have her; she would rather die.

as lestan watched, that man appeared.
tybault, tormenter of reverie's dreams.
and that name —!
lestan remembered how it had shattered her before, how she had sunken into broken glass and unreality, how he had been unable to pull her from it for hours.
this was her brother. he knew what it meant, even more than lestan.
the flames of the firelake licked at him and before the mayfair knew it, he was running, not after reverie but for tybault.
he was unthinking; his jaws reached to hurt the man who meant to harm the golden fairy.

For a heartbeat Tybault was almost proud of her. He deserved that reaction, he knew. She would hate him for a long time, but it was worth it. It was all worth it, if he could only save her. All he had to do now was follow, and wait, and —
He didn't even notice the man until he was upon him. What - Pain seared through him, and he realized it was Lestan. No - NO, damnit, she's - Gone. Gone, and he didn't know where. Tybault snapped. He lunged blindly for the man's scruff, uncaring of what damage he may take in the process. His own teeth would not break skin, though. For now.
If his sister cared for this man, he would try not to hurt him. For her sake.

She ran, but Tybault did not pursue her. Reverie didn't realize until he was out of sight that something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Panic seized her; she couldn't know what was happening but she felt in her heart that she must turn back.
The problem: she was slipping. Fading. Reverie stopped, shook her head. Not now, not now. She had to turn back. Something was wrong. And now she was running again, retracing her steps frantically, but it was too late. Always too late. Everything was fading: the urgency, the trees around her, all of it. She saw two wolves locked together, but did not recognize them. They were fading too, but —
Not now, please, not now.
Lestan? Shaky, too quiet. Just a little longer. Lestan! And it all went dark.

the man whom had shared such tender loving words with reverie had dipped below the bleak surface of an avenging pagan.
lestan did not know when he had ever fought, or with such ferocity. blood bloomed between them; his teeth hewed and slashed without reason or guidance.
and behind it a possessive snarl that at last blossomed from devotion to the creek, to arric, to akavir, to the land itself.
lestan was terrible in this moment, blinded by all reason and meaning now to kill.

Any illusions Tybault might have held to about this fight, about the stakes here, were quickly erased under Lestan's vengeful assault. Forced to true violence, he defended himself without reservation now. He saw his sister's return vaguely at the edges of his vision, heard her call for Lestan. Not him.
It finally clicked, somewhere between Lestan ripping his face open and Lestan ripping him a front-end asshole. She would see him dead before she would accept him back into her life. Tybault would have fought to the death if he thought there was a chance, any chance — but there wasn't. He knew that now. So he pulled himself away from Lestan forcefully, and did something he had never done in his life:
Tybault ran, and forfeited the fight. And with it, his sister. He had scarcely touched Lestan, but bled heavily as he fled the scene; he wouldn't forget that, if he ever met the man again. No more than he would forget that this was the wolf who had taken his sister from him for the final time.

Haha sike.

Under the stars just beyond the border of Swiftcurrent Creek, two battles were fought; two battles were lost. Reverie resisted her descent with each stuttering step into that muffled darkness, grasping desperately for each fragment of drifting thought she found. Lestan, the only thing she could hold to; an urgency to the thought, but she did not know why. Did it matter, truly?
She didn't need Lestan. She didn't need any of them.
He needs you, something whispered from that fathomless dark, and she resisted it. She did not want to be needed! She did not want —
to leave him.
He needs you. Reverie closed her eyes. It wasn't as simple as just knowing, and deciding. It wasn't as easy as that. She had to fight for it, and she'd been fighting this for so long that she wasn't certain she remembered what it was to rest. Maybe that was why it was different this time; maybe all that effort had finally paid off in a way that really mattered.
Or maybe sometimes things just change. She didn't know. She only opened her eyes and realized that she saw Lestan, really saw him, and Tybault fleeing and blood everywhere —
And he really did need her just then, but she wished for a cold, terrified moment that she hadn't seen it.

lestan pursued a short distance in hard silence until the man tybault had disappeared into the terrain.
and then the fight left lestan as if it had only been a demon. he spat tufts of bloodied fur into the ground and drew a shuddering breath of near horror, raising a paw to his cheek.
it came away soaked and red. lestan stared down uncomprehendingly. all of his face and shoulders began to come alive, stinging with little nicks and cuts where tybault had finally tried to preserve himself.
but this blood belonged to that man; this mask of it, flecking his ears, smeared high on his cheeks, muzzle caked in it. lestan scrubbed furiously at the oozing scarlet, but his face was still terrible in its vision when he crept back to reverie. "tybault will not be back, not for a while, i don't think. come on. let's go home."
lestan did not dare to look at her lest he see horror and loathing in her eyes.

She watched him in silence, and her eyes filled with tears, but all she could think was that Lestan had kept every promise he'd made to her. Even this one, even this terrible thing he'd done for her. Terrible not because he'd hurt Tybault, but because he'd put himself in danger. For her.
When he crept back she tried to speak and found herself unable; here, but mute. Reverie stepped toward him and reached out slowly, pressing her nose to his and then starting to clean the remnants of blood away from his mouth, his cheeks if he let her. Home, he'd said. She could hardly think, but she thought for a fierce second that she would have to keep this promise she'd made to him. This promise of home, something Reverie had run from not once but twice because she was, at her core, a coward. But if Lestan could be brave for her, then — maybe she could learn to be brave for him, too.