Cerulean Cape I think that she knows I'm out of control

Let me know if I should change anything, I figured their last thread is far enough to make assumptions & wanted to pop this up <3

Something had changed. Reverie could not put a name to it, but she felt it all the same. The opening of herself to @Lestan had been more like the opening of a door, one which held behind it the answers to so many questions she had not yet thought to ask. The next time she slept — soon after their conversation, tucked firmly against Lestan, because it had drained the energy from her — she dreamed again of before.
She dreamed a story of love across worlds.
A young spirit, a shy thing, a bright flash of sunlight flitting between the clouds, hiding behind them; peering around, peering down at a lake of fire and a boy who danced around it. There were other boys, of course, but there was something quite special about this one. If she looked at him just right, not quite from the corners of her vision but nearly, she could see it shimmering all around him. Light and color and flowers arranged in blue and gold, swaying gently from the tines of antlers that glistened darkly with blood. And when the sunlight caught him, he glowed. He was Mayfair, one of those few who caught the eye of those who existed outside of his world.
Yes, there was something quite special about this boy. But she was distractible then, even more than now, and the girl in the reverie had looked away. Just for a moment, she'd thought, but what use did such beings have for any concept of time?
She looked back and found darkness. The boy had become a man stricken by tragedy, that shimmering aura dimmed, and she'd had to look hard to see it at all. She had wanted nothing more than to go to him then, but how could she? In the flower world she was true and real, but in his world — nothing but a flash of light, a shifting of the winds.
"Bring him here, then -"
Reverie woke with a start before she could see who had spoken, but the urgency stayed with her. Lestan, She looked to see if he was asleep, to rouse him if he was. Lestan.

overnight, lestan mayfair had became a picture of penitent chastity.
he vowed to himself that for his grave sin he must learn to live without desire, until such a time as he found himself forgiven. it was not for lack of great want; such was in spite of it. the fearsome nature of her blood consumed so many of his thoughts that when lestan wakened to her whisper, he lay tensely beside reverie as if terrified of his own betrayal.
"reverie, what is it?" he asked finally, rolling to face her after a moment's glance toward blossom. the golden hind seemed as she oft did after a dream, though with no confusion or terror. lestan watched her in consternation.

I remembered something, She breathed, eyes bright with fever as she looked at him. Oh, she could almost see it now — ! He was so beautiful. I saw you - I saw why you were chosen, I - did you know that you used to glow? He almost did still, even now, but...
All the fervency died from her expression then, and fell instead into shame. I - I can't fix this, Reverie admitted softly. But you can. Guilt weighed on her words; she did not want to ask this of him, to put this burden on him, but there was no other way. Reverie had been so focused on herself, on knowing what she was, that she had failed to realize it didn't truly matter. She was only another wayward spirit, one of hundreds; Riordan was like her, and countless others out there too. But Lestan...
There was no one like him.

fire. glowing; dancing; chosen; shame, shame, as he stared into her golden face and exhaled shakily, fighting the urge to embrace her.
they had always known one another, this he truly knew.
"tell me!" uttered in the voice of a man seeking salvation.

I don't know how, She frowned as she said it. All I know is - when I first saw you, I knew that you were special, and that I would be yours. That's why it has to be you. You'll - know, I think. Or… remember, maybe.
I trust you, Reverie added without hesitation, and for the first time she truly meant it; it reflected in her eyes as she met his gaze unwaveringly. She had gone into her dreams fearful, untrusting, but now — now she knew that she could do nothing else except surrender to Lestan that last and most precious thing she still had yet to give anyone at all. It came to him already cracked and worn by events she could not fully recall, but whole. For now, at least, she would follow wherever Lestan led her.

reverie could not explain it. again the frustration, the winnowing sensation that he would mishandle her trust if she could not even say why she placed it in him.
he thought of riordan's tone, the man's dismissal!
found wanting.
"maybe you'll dream again and it will come to you," lestan said gently, offering a smile that did not touch his eyes. 
he rolled, looking out toward the sky. "we should be moving on soon," the mayfair uttered quietly, though for a moment he did not move from the warmth generated by she and he.

He wasn't satisfied with her answer, that much was clear. Reverie tucked herself closer to him, thinking hard, trying to remember. So much light all around him, but something else, too. She frowned thoughtfully this time.
There's - one more thing I remember... She admitted quietly, reluctantly. Her gaze fell away from him. Reverie wasn't certain how to say it. But I... well, I don't know what it means, and - and I don't want you to take it the wrong way... Even as she spoke there was something distant in her gaze, some part of her that was remembering.

it felt like a tightrope. lestan tried to hold back the rising tide of panic that was threatening to overwhelm him, loving mate, adoring father, unwilling patriarch.
he watched reverie's eyes. "what is it?" lestan asked hoarsely, body feeling somehow suspended.

She hesitated for a long moment, taking in his expression. Then Reverie shook her head, eyes sad and full of guilt. I'll - I'll tell you when we get to Saltshore. I don't want to upset you more, She murmured, but there was something defeated in her tone. Now she was considering not only her own fragility but Lestan's, and there was a small fear in her; a fear that he would break under the weight of all that pressed on them now.

"we could be several days out if it storms," lestan said quietly, not wanting to press but not wanting to live with this thing unsaid and undiscussed. "i'd l-like to talk about it all." why not? so much had already occurred that the mayfair did not think another thing would be a greater weight.

Saltshore was closer than she'd thought — but Lestan did not want to wait, it seemed, and Reverie could never bring herself to argue with him anymore. Not when he sacrificed so much for her, more with each day. The very least she could do, she thought, was give him that thing all men wanted, even if they wanted it in secret, even if they wanted it in shame: control.
Alright, She relented with great reluctance, but relented all the same. I - it's difficult to put into words. There's... a light that follows you, Lestan, but... A shiver passed through her. There's something dark, too - and - I think that's what I need.
The flowers. The blood. How could she explain it? There was so much beauty in him, but Reverie was afraid that if she described it she would look into his eyes and see only the horror of it reflected back at her. Lestan was too gentle for this, too much a flower to do anything but wither in the darkness. But she couldn't protect him from himself any more than he could do the same for her — and she needed him now.
I'm sorry, She couldn't contain the surge of guilt. I - I'm already such a burden on you, and now I'm asking for more - Reverie found herself quite suddenly verging on hysterics, her voice rising in a sob with her last words and then falling in despair as she added, Maybe - maybe Riordan will know a different way -
Reverie cut herself off abruptly, feeling this was a misstep even as the words left her mouth.

but he knew these things! it was a relief that reverie could see them, but lestan had felt the dark lying with him since he had come back from the taiga. the french queen with her claws had seen to it, had left him festering not only in flesh but in spirit.
to say she needed it caused his brow to furrow; why would she conceive of such a thing?
yet before lestan could ask, could understand, she mentioned the man from her past. it was indeed a misstep, and the mayfair's face closed for a moment. but he forced himself out of it, refusing to shut down simply because reverie had posited an idea for her own health. "you ask me for so little. and he is knowlegeable." of you. "we should entertain any options we have for ending your sickness."
to cover the baneflower growing in his heart, lestan looked again toward little blossom, a miracle.

He didn't react as she'd feared, and Reverie couldn't help but wonder if he understood, really. Or maybe... maybe he did understand, and that was why he took it so well? But if he did, then why would he go to it so willingly — to her, knowing that what she needed from him was —
But he was upset, and she could see it; she was watching too closely to miss it. I don't trust him, She said quietly. I left him, and I - I think there was a reason I left. I just don't remember... These were things she was not truly ready to share, but they spilled from her anyway as she sought to reassure Lestan in her own way. Reverie's world had firmly divided itself into a black and white distinction of us and them — and she wanted Lestan to know that us meant her and him and Blossom, and that there was no space at all for Riordan in this.

"do you want him to come with us? he seems to believe he's — involved." and it remained in his mouth, a bitter taste over how the man had regarded him. that he had followed reverie and affected her in ways that lestan did not understand set the mayfair even more fully against him.
"you say it. we'll leave now if you want. he can trail us, but s-saltshore doesn't have to let him in!" lestan said with great resolution, wanting nothing more than to be shut of riordan and visiting a healer with reverie.

Reverie could only nod mutely for a moment when Lestan offered to leave, relieved that he had offered her this way out. Then she was again overcome with emotion, and pressed herself against him, resting her cheek against his neck. She trembled against him, feeling tired and vulnerable and in desperate need of his warmth. Fever raged in her and left her sensitive to the chilled seaside air, fogged, wanting comfort.
Yes, let's leave, She confirmed after a pause, when she trusted herself to speak. Reverie took a deep breath, suddenly very aware of the journey still ahead of them and how painfully long it felt when she was so tired and increasingly ill.
She wasn't certain she would make it as far as Saltshore... but she could never tell Lestan that.