Valley of Gold [m] I need not one thing more

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As hard as she'd tried to take all of it in stride, Muat-Riya's display of power had left her rattled. The threat in it had not been lost on her. They would depart from the valley sooner than she'd hoped, then, but even that knowledge didn't fully settle her. Nightmares plagued her each time she laid beside @Dusty Rose.

Eventually they drove her from her bed tearful and bristling. Fear of waking their daughters kept her silent, but she hoped that Dusty Rose would somehow sense that he was needed. It wasn't like her to slip off without him, after all.

And sense he did — it was hard not to when his pillow started shaking with tears. He dragged himself out of the puppy pile and tripped over one as he followed her, pausing only to murmur a quiet apology and drop a quick kiss to the top of the child's head.

"S'wrong?" he asked, still half asleep but already in teddy-bear mode. He tried to envelope Reverie in a warm embrace.

Where Dusty Rose made a teddy bear of himself, Reverie was more easily compared to an overstimulated puppy in this moment. She met his embrace with teeth, more plaintive than aggressive; not meant to hurt but to convey her own desperate hurt, her agitation. Even then, she clung to him.

I had a nightmare, She explained quietly after a moment, between mouthing him roughly. About - about something that happened a long time ago.

Although he didn't begrudge her the bite, it was impossible for him not to react in kind. It was almost like play but less fun, and each bite wanted to be something more but would never be fully realized in this situation; they didn't hurt each other. Never. Not really. So eventually he trapped her against him, acting as weighted blanket so that she might not feel so desperate to act. She could be safe and still here, if only for a little while.

"Tell me about it," he instructed; for he had always believed that these things needed to be exorcised. Dragged out into the light to be examined without fear. He would help her. That was his job, now.

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Discussion of abuse/violence/sexual assault

She was soothed immediately when Dusty Rose pinned her against him; there was relief in the lack of choice, freedom in being able to do nothing but surrender to her lover's embrace. All the fight faded from her, and with a soft sigh Reverie closed her eyes to call the memory back. Riordan. The fiery chill of an autumn breeze, red and gold leaves carried on its back.

When I left The Gilded Sea - I ran for a long time. For days, I think. It was all tall grass for so many miles - and then short twisted trees and rocky little hills and dry shrubs. Then it was bigger hills. Then mountains. That was the first time I ever saw a real forest - I didn't know what they were called then, so I just called it the tree place.

That was where I met Riordan, Dusty Rose would know this name by now — but he knew him only as the man slain by Lestan. He didn't know the full story. Not yet. My nightmare was about - it was about the first time I met him. In that forest. But nothing bad really happened then. He was nice until - until later.

He was part of this pack - Willowspire. They were... healers, but they answered to a bigger pack. An empire. That was what they called it. They were at war with this other pack - or another empire, I don't know. The whole area was unsafe. And they - they saw everything. They knew everything.

Riordan especially. He was good at making friends, so everyone told him whatever he wanted to know. They trusted him - and I did, too. So it wasn't that weird to me when - when he checked up on me, and always knew where I was. Sometimes he acted like he owned me. I guess I liked that part. But then he...

He wanted more. And I was so young - I wasn't even a yearling yet. I wasn't interested. But he wouldn't... Here she faltered, shivering against Dusty Rose as she fought the sudden threat of tears. He didn't listen. So - so when he was - done - I ran. I ran for weeks, because I knew as long as I was anywhere near Willowspire, he would find me. I ran until I didn't recognize anything anymore, not even the sky.

Then he found me anyway. And he - he's dead now, but - my whole life, people have tried to control me, or - or own me, And she had built the image of herself around that fight, around the dream of freedom. She still wasn't sure whether that was a lie or not. For a long time I wanted to get away from it, but I - I don't think I know any other way to be. All I've ever managed to do is - is try to be the one in control, and I don't like that, either.

So I decided it would be my own choice. And I chose you - and I'm happy with that. But I... This was what she could not put into words. Those who had come before Dusty Rose had forced their will on her, one way or another, stepping uninvited into places she would have kept forever to herself. But the doors were all opened now; their footprints lingered, and more than anything she wanted them gone. She was tired of the nightmares. She was tired of the fear.

He held her close. As soon as he knew it was a man, he knew what this was about. He had wondered ever since Everett had upset her so much — not that she'd needed a history to be upset, but he'd known then that there was something more to the story.

He was sad for that past Reverie, who he loved now because he loved the version of her currently in his arms. Just like he loved the future Reverie. He was sad and he was angry for her, and he was disgusted by the man and the actions that he'd taken.

But it was all a little muted. Already in the past. He was calm and even-minded while he listened — not unaffected, but as unflappable as ever. And he was quiet, for a time, even after she was done. What he said was,

"I'm gonna treat you right, okay?" He didn't need her to answer; he knew she knew this, but he felt compelled to say it anyway. "And we're gonna take care of each other. And no one else matters. Just you and me and our family. So if anyone ever touches you again, it's gonna be a fight. It's gonna be teeth and blood, but we're gonna get 'em in the end and say good riddance. No one you love is ever gonna hurt you again."

He wasn't sure if that was what had most upset her — but it was what had most upset him.

She did know — but the reminder was what she'd needed to hear all the same. Reverie pressed her face into Dusty Rose's fur as he spoke. No one you love is ever gonna hurt you again. She'd thought once that she would give him everything if he would only stay. Now she realized that she would give him everything simply because she wanted him to have it. No — because it was his already, and maybe it always had been, and they just hadn't known it until the day he'd found her and greeted her as if she was a place he had left on a jaunt and was now returning to, weary but joyful.

I want to - to forget everything that isn't - us. Everything that isn't ours, She confessed softly after her own small silence. I know you'll treat me right. You always do. That's - that's why I'm yours. Why I left everything to be with you. Because... you understand me, and I know you'll never hurt me. And sometimes I feel like my whole life before I met you was pointless, because now that you're here, nothing else is worth trying for. Not compared to you.

And even if it wasn't pointless, it was... it was miserable, and confusing, and lonely, and I don't want to carry it anymore, Reverie took in a slow breath, heart skipping a little with nerves as she clarified her confession a final time: I guess what I mean is that - that I'd be happier pretending my life was never about anything but you.

Gently, tenderly, Dusty Rose marveled at what a fucking basket case his wife was — and about how sad her childhood must have been. He wanted to split some crap about how everything she'd been through had made her into the wonderful being he loved. But fuck that, y'know? He'd rather just not have her than have her go through any of it again. If he could go back and right every wrong, undo every hurt? He'd do it. That was what love was, he guessed. Even if it meant he didn't love who she might become. He loved her now, and that meant he loved her then and he loved her future self.

He supposed he was lucky he didn't have that power. He wished he could do it anyway.

"Then pretend," he suggested, his tail whisking. "For as long as you want. For as long as you need to."

He couldn't see the hurt in it. Reverie deserved a break from — from being Reverie, maybe. From the life she'd been living. Even though she had never been happier, she was still going through so much. It had to be exhausting. He knew it was. He could see it.

"It's different for me," he told her. "There's no place and no time I'd rather be, but I wouldn't change my childhood, y'know? Except maybe I'd spend a little more time there, if I could still meet you just the same. But when I spend time in those memories, it's with people who loved me. And I want you to spend time where people love you, too. And it's not those times. So you should pretend. I'll remember for us, just in case. But you should spend some time just here. Just with us."

Just here. Just with us. That was all Reverie wanted. For several long moments she said nothing, only tucked her face against him, overcome with gratitude. I love you, She murmured after a little while. I love you so, so much.

I want to show you a new dance.

He colored beneath his fur. "I love you, too," he told her; he was still shy about it. Still half afraid that this was something that could be turned against him and taken away. But he said it because he did love her, and so he wanted her to know. Wanted her to hear it.

"Go on, then," he told her. "Dance."

There were only a few dances taught in The Gilded Sea. This in particular was more than a dance, more than a call to the skies. In truth it wasn't meant to be taught this way. The close bond between dancers in The Gilded Sea had been necessity; a strong connection meant a louder call to Mother Rain when they danced as one. There was no reason for Dusty Rose to dance with her now but desire — and Reverie couldn't help but take some joy in that small rebellion.

But that wasn't why she wanted to teach him.

You have to dance with me, She breathed into his ear. You learn as you go - and make up the rest.

This dance was more like a binding, a baring of souls; it demanded everything of the dancers. It demanded, above all else, honesty. There was no hiding the self in this, no hiding the way she was a flame always burning and burning out and lighting herself anew, nor the way she clung to him for kindling.