Stavanger Bay Hope it isn't repetition, though that's the only thing that keeps and takes you

Figured we can fade the other <3 definitely didn't edit this based on a dream, it was a cool dream tho fight me

Reverie had not been certain, when she'd said it, that she would truly learn to let go of the things @Lestan had said to her. But true to her word, she took time to process her feelings, and came out on the other side of them with a sense of — peace, almost. She did not think to attribute this to the herbs Bridget had given her, and perhaps that was for the best. Had she known, she may have rejected it entirely.
But she didn't. So she took it for the blessing it was, and when two whole days had passed without a single fallen tear, she knew it was time to go to him again. Reverie was silent in her approach; she drew up alongside him and pressed her nose to his cheek lightly. I love you, She murmured, reminding herself as much as she was reminding him.
She paused, trying to meet his eyes now if he'd let her. I wanted to - apologize, She began quietly. I've been selfish, and unfair to you, and I'm sorry. I - I've been so caught up in my fear of losing you, I lost sight of the real reason I'm so afraid of it - and that's because I don't really know what you need from me, as your wife. I never have. I thought maybe I could figure it out on my own, but I can't. I've spent all this time just guessing, and worrying - and I know I've hurt you so much with my insecurities. I blamed you for rejecting me when - when it was really just that I didn't know how to be there for you, and that scared me. It still scared her. She took a breath. It's okay if - if we're never intimate again, I can live without that - but it worries me that you feel so guilty about our love, and that I can't help. I don't want you to feel that way.
And I'm not falling out of love with you. I love you as much as I always have. I just - thought I was, because it's so hard to feel anything but fear anymore, Her gaze dropped briefly, but returned to him with her next words. I've failed as a wife, as a mother, failed at being - anything except sick, and it feels like I'm just waiting for you and Blossom to realize that too. I'm so afraid that you'll - you'll find someone else, someone better, someone who knows what you need and can give it to you. I've been nothing but a burden to you. I want you to feel safe with me, and I want you to be able to rely on me - but instead I - I'm always making you worry. With her sickness, with her madness; things she couldn't change, and yet she felt the blame deeply.
And I know that - it's not always avoidable, but I - I'm your wife, and I'm supposed to be able to support you, Here she reached out, one of her paws touching his lightly. We're supposed to carry these things together. I just - I just need to know how I can show my love and support in a way that's helpful to you, because right now I don't know what helps and what doesn't. Then - maybe I can start to fix this, and I won't be afraid of losing you. If I could know that I'm meeting your needs, I wouldn't worry so much.
But I'm - I'm afraid I've hurt you too much to ever fix it. That you only stay because of Blossom, or because you're scared that I'll - Her voice broke, and she could not finish. It had taken time for it to sink in, the true horror of what she'd threatened him with, and now she could hardly stand even to think of it. I wouldn't. Not really. Losing you would - I don't think I'd ever get over it, but I wouldn't throw away the life we've made together. You gave me a reason to live when I had none - you gave me hope, and a beautiful daughter, and a future I never thought I'd have. I can't change how I love you, or what you are to me, but I - I never should have threatened you with it, and I'm sorry.

she spoke;
lestan's heart reverberated and rebounded. at some point he took her paw and watched her face; at some point he stopped glancing toward the sea and kept himself fully entrenched in all that reverie said.
of course he wished to argue! but not until the the end did he part his jaws to say, "you haven't failed."
there was a long silence as he filtered back her words through his mind, needing to hear them and yet feeling so guilty for all the blame and the pain she must have so often felt.
intimacy; now the blush crept his cheeks and he pressed her paw with his own, glancing downward. 
"i — it's n-not our love, it's y-your health. i — worked through the first part," he said in a hopeful little whisper. "i am afraid of — h-hurting you. physically. and i s-suppose at this point, i'm too frightened to try. there's just — it no longer happens," he stage-whispered as his ears splayed to his head.
but it was good to say it, good to speak this aloud.
to her, to no other.
"i stay for you. not just her. i w-want us to be a family. i j-just need — i need some time away. being without you makes me feel as if i might die, reverie, and i can't have that either. i — want to be strong. in all ways."
he kissed her golden cheek. "i don't know if you can help me. but i t-think what helps me most is when you are healthier. happier. when y-you go places of your own and see the world, and c-come back."
when you live.

She swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to accept the comfort Lestan tried to offer her. But how could she?
You've never hurt me, and I don't think you would, Reverie was determined to remain calm despite the pounding of her heart, her sudden certainty that their marriage would not survive this conversation. But I - I understand. Maybe when I'm better... but - Lestan, none of that matters if - She felt her heart in her throat, felt it threatening to shatter there. If you need to be away from me to be - better. When you left the first time, you said it was because you wanted to be - to be more than sad for me. And now you want to leave again, to be stronger. If I didn't fail - if I wasn't making you unhappy, you wouldn't have to leave.
Every problem we have - everything that's hurting you, it's my fault. I was the one who - who got pregnant, and refused to see the healer. I was the one who got sick, and I left Swiftcurrent Creek and found the witch. I'm the reason we left, and the reason Riordan followed us - and the reason you're always tired, always worried, always wanting to leave, She took a deep breath, struggling to maintain her calm. And - it's not going to change unless we can talk about it. I don't want that. I won't be the reason you're unhappy - I won't be the one you need to be away from. If - if that's all I can be to you, then...
Reverie swallowed again, her eyes flicking to the direction of the island of their own accord, then back to Lestan. They couldn't continue on this way. She couldn't. Not anymore.

lestan's jaw tightened. he listened until the end. "y-you're blaming yourself for a lot, reverie. y-you certainly didn't get pregnant alone," he said, flustered. "and s-so many of those other things — you c-couldn't help being sick!" no! this was not the way either.
he took a breath and sought his heart's wisdom and was softer with himself.
"reverie. i need s-some time away f-from the sea. f-from us. not our marriage, just." his gut lurched. "i think i need to learn how to be strong alone, so i can be strong for you and n-not worry so much until i'm —" worthless.
an exhale. "i worry about you, yes, but this feeling, this? it's all me. not you, rev. i — would be miserable without you. and i am sick with worry here. do you see? it isn't you at all."

It wasn't her, he said, but it was; he'd lived a peaceful life before her, a happy one at Swiftcurrent Creek. He used to smile so often. Now she hardly recalled what his smile looked like, and how could she blame anyone but herself? Reverie could not claim that she always had his best interests in mind, and for that, she hated herself. But it wasn't too late to change that. Even if it meant sundering her own happiness in the most cutting of ways.
You were happy, before. At Swiftcurrent Creek, Reverie said quietly, unable to meet his eyes now. Before me.
I want you to heal, Lestan. If that means being away from me - then it means that I'm not good for you, whether you think that's my fault or not. And no amount of time away will fix that, and I can't - I can't do that to you. You deserve better. You deserve someone who can help you heal, or at least be there to see it and support you, Her throat hurt, but she went on. That's what marriage is supposed to be - to me, it is. And if I can't be that for you, then this isn't the kind of marriage I want.
Even if I wait for you again, I know what will happen. I know how it will go, She went on without waiting for him to respond. They'd been through this before, hadn't they? I'll worry about you all the time, and Blossom will get older, and things will happen while you're away. When you get back - if you get back, if you don't get hurt or - or killed out there - you'll have missed so much, and Blossom will hardly know you, and I'll feel bitter and you'll feel guilty, and nothing will be better. I won't do it again. I won't.
I don't want to raise our daughter alone. I'm already so overwhelmed with being a mother - she needs you, Lestan. I'm not - I can't be enough for her, not on my own, Reverie swallowed. But if this is what you need - if there isn't any other way, then I won't keep you from it. I won't try to stop you from leaving. Her voice started to falter, tears threatening her in force now. But I - I won't be here when you get back. I'll go to the island, to be with Everett, and when - when you get back, we - we can discuss - how we'll raise Blossom. If we can't heal together - I - I can't. I'm just tired.

lestan could agree that he had not been thinking of blossom at that very moment, that the logistics of things must be worked! but his ears splayed more flatly the longer that reverie spoke, until he found himself chin atremble gazing upon her with eyes already wet and surprised.
and yet, how could he be!
how could she ask of him what was needed and then say she would leave in the next? how could she act as if he would be gone for so very long! how could she think it of him! his mouth opened uselessly, once, twice; he shut it and then a harsh thing came to him: suppose this was what they needed, each of them. both of them.
reverie did not wish to be a parent alone. he wanted to rail that he would have ended as a father alone if she had continued to fight healing.
so much to say that it clogged the back of his throat and the words simply died there also. lestan was overwhelmed by the loss he faced if he stepped away from saltshore, and so was rooted in a cowering silence that stretched and stretched and would not be ended by him.

In the silence, Reverie found only more fear. And she was so tired of being afraid.
She reached out to touch him, to press her nose to his cheek if he'd let her. I don't want to lose you, She murmured, an echo of words she'd said so many times before. I want us to heal together, and I - I don't think leaving will help anything. You are strong enough already, Lestan - there's nothing wrong with being afraid to lose someone you love, and there's nothing wrong with feeling weak sometimes.
Your strength has carried us through so much, She put her paw over his again. Why torment yourself by leaving again? Why not just - rest for a little while? I'll be well again soon, I think, and I can take care of things, if - if you'll let me. She tried to meet his eyes, tried to grasp for some ember of hope between them. I've always meant to, but then - I just kept getting more sick.

anger, earthy and unwanted, plagued his tongue. this time lestan did not listen; he let reverie's words fall to a soft drone behind the insistent buzzing of his frustration.
she always threatened to leave. he felt that he'd done it once, bad enough. but reverie made ultimatums! didn't she? what about when she'd — her own life.
he didn't want her to 'take care of things.' he was tired of sitting around this cave beside the sea, hunting endlessly in the foam and not knowing what he'd come back to find.
unknowing or not, a good deal of the malaise between he and she was the absence of many other packmates. lestan and reverie had been widely isolated for months now. saltshore would be something, but at present the rich territory felt empty.
this always happened! they'd argue, something would occur, they'd talk, and the taste of hope would be dashed between them. somehow.
this time lestan could not get over her soft voice speaking to him, apologizing, all the blame she wanted to carry — and then the threat.
"i'll take you both to sweetharbor myself," lestan heard himself saying, as though he were a thousand miles underwater. she wouldn't be alone as a parent, and there would be other children to play with for blossom. reverie would have her brother and not be waiting alone for lestan to return. 
he loved his daughter so fiercely, but the mayfair did not think he could be a father in the same way reverie did not want to mother by herself, and this forced such shards of guilt beneath his skin that he felt a sob forming in his throat, one he held back as his eyes rested on the ocean. "just tell me when you w-want to go."

So that was what it felt like. The sound of her heart shattering.
No, Half-gasped before she could even process it, before the hurt had truly set in, but the tears were welling and then spilling anyway. No.
She wrapped her arms around him because she could do nothing else, and buried her face in his chest fur, and started to cry. Of course she wanted to beg him to stay, to give him reasons, to promise that things would change. But she couldn't. Reverie found that when it mattered the most, she could not bring herself to speak at all. She could only hope fervently that he would not push her away.

lestan did not push reverie away; after a moment's hesitation he wound his arms around her, breathing out a shuddering sigh into her fur. "all we've been doing is arguing and not getting along," he murmured tearfully.
maybe they needed this separation. all lestan knew is that the idea of being without her sickened him, made him panic. with reverie in sweetharbor, and he here, why perhaps he could teach himself another skill and —
he squeezed his eyes shut and nuzzled tearfully into her fur.

Reverie shivered. I want things to change, She said softly. I want it to be different. And it can be, if - if we just - talk to each other. Honestly. Couldn't he see that? She knew that he held things back, as surely as she held things back for fear of hurting him. But maybe that was what they needed; to let each other see the hurt. She held him tightly, hoping he would understand that she would do almost anything for him. Almost.

"all we do is talk, rev. things don't improve." it felt like giving up to say that; his heart twisted horribly. he wanted to tell her he loved her, to show it in the ways that his body had given up.
he held her just as firmly and tried not to allow his sorrow to drown the both of them. "i think it'll be good for you to see everett. and for blossom to meet her uncle."

I know there are things you don't say to me. There are - things I've held back too, because I don't want to hurt you, Reverie was persistent now. She tried to meet his eyes. You said - even if it takes time. That you're not going anywhere. What do we have to lose by trying? If - if we argue again, then we don't have to keep trying. But I... I remember when we made each other happy. And I know we can do it again.

this time finally he did pull away, gently, fighting the chord of frustration that pinged inside him again. "i d-don't think more t-talking is going to fix this. i don't want to keep arguing. you said you wouldn't stay if i left. a-and i'm still —"
he still planned to take his breaths somewhere else.
why was she doing this? lestan had thought everything was decided, but now she was reneging on it like she did all her other threats, clinging to him, crying; he no longer wanted this to be the end of every discussion, and was committed to placing a time of physical space between them. it didn't mean the end.
but as usual the words which would have settled them both evaded lestan, who watched reverie in open misery.

She let out a breath when he pulled away, and her tears welled anew. I - I don't know if I can handle waiting for you again, Lestan. But I don't know if I can handle losing you forever, either. And I want you to be happy, too - and I don't know anymore if that means I should stay or if that means I should go, Reverie wasn't sure she was making sense anymore. All she knew was that she couldn't understand Lestan's frustration with her. I want to stay. I want to wait for you. But I - I'm so afraid that you'll never come back - that something will happen, and... and I'll never know. I'll just be waiting forever. She started to dissolve into her tears, trembling.

"then don't wait." his pelt was lank with the unkempt days, and his tone was harder than he wanted. lestan drew a breath and glanced toward the sea, then back to her. "i was never planning to be gone for w-weeks or months or years."
what lestan needed was a place to fall apart without having to take care of reverie or blossom. why couldn't she see that? he had been her caretaker since the insanity and blood in the creek; he had never stopped once, and now he was faltering, burning out, despite the fact he hated himself for it.
"go to s-sweetharbor. be with your brother. i am going to stay here and —" well, he didn't know yet. "i don't want you to stay. or wait." perhaps now he was pushing her away a little, but it was due to his own panic, the unknowing of what else could possibly be done or said now.

I don't want you to stay.
Reverie blinked and swallowed hard. If - if you need space... whatever you need, Lestan. I want you to be happy, Her voice cracked. But I don't want to go. I wanted to - bring you comfort. To support you. To be your home, the way you've been mine. I'm - I'm sorry - for hurting you instead.
I love you, She said quietly, and she didn't know if that would help or if it would only hurt him more. She supposed she never would, now. He didn't want her.

"stop apologizing. please. y-you haven't d-done anything wrong." it was him! all him! him and his selfishness and inability to please her, to protect her, to soothe her, to make her feel that this partnership held the equality they both wanted.
"you are my home, reverie." his nostrils flared. "y-you b-broke —" he seethed, falling silent as he searched for the right word; "when you threatened to t-take your own life, s-something changed. s-something — moved."
not his love, his devotion to her, his want to be her husband. lestan was fighting horrendously for the proper words that conveyed the things unsaid, but maybe they were best left unsaid because they were so cruel; he didn't know what to do with her apologies because she kept holding the end of their relationship over him. "so i need to get it back, that part," he said resolutely, "and it c-can't be done if we're constantly t-taking care of the other one. you c-can't rest here, and you need to rest. i can't either. let me take you to sweetharbor, okay?" voice cracking again. "you w-won't be alone."

How could he say that she was his home? No one ever left their home to heal. Not if it was truly home. Reverie listened, but there was a chill settling over her. There was no fixing this, truly, and all of the words left her at once as she realized this. She focused on her breathing.
And then what? Reverie asked, her voice soft and genuine; quiet acceptance in her words. What did he see for them, after this? She wanted to know. Will we still be - married? Will you - She cut herself off, and let him answer before she went on.

"do you want that?" his frustration was mounting; he asked for space and she treated it like the ultimatums she was used to giving! and then lestan realized very quickly and very belatedly that he was angry with her for that last horrible threat, and that the breaking had started then.
"you w-won't wait for me again, you keep saying that, reverie. and i wouldn't ask you to do that. you told me just — just minutes ago that if i sought space you wouldn't be here when i got back."
his eyes were wild, pained. "so really, i think you should decide."
lestan stood up. there was nothing more to say and he was too afraid of being harsher to even try. "i love you. with all of me. but i c-can't — i can't keep thinking about what it w-would mean to lose you and you t-telling me i will."

I'll wait, She said softly, even as he stood, even as he broke away from her for what felt like the final time. I'll wait - forever, if I have to. I'll always be your wife. And I'm sorry - and I know you said not to apologize, but you deserve an apology, Lestan. I've let my fear control me - even now - and I -
I'll learn to be better, Reverie stood too now, already dreading the journey to Sweetharbor. Maybe - maybe when we're both better, we can... try again. But she didn't think that he would want to, if she was honest with herself. He'd said that he would be miserable without her — but Reverie had a feeling that he would be relieved.
And that was what hurt the most.

lestan wanted to yell at her now. the confusion of her conflicting statements rattled him; he wanted to shout that she should not wait or care, or give a fuck, because she certainly didn't seem to care when she was trying to take control of a situation he wanted to surrender.
it was whiplash, over and over, and he was exhausted.
lestan had no energy to comfort her, to promise she was better, to say she didn't have to try. he didn't want to hold any of it, and the anger licked over him again when she filled his arms with promises.
stiff-backed, he turned and stalked away.

What Reverie did not anticipate was her own relief.
His anger burned the space between them and then fell away, and with it, some of the hurt receded too. Lestan had understood her, once. He'd understood that she always tried to do what was best, even if her logic sometimes became tangled in the process. He'd trusted that she wanted him to be happy.
But she realized now that trust was what she had broken when she'd threatened to take her own life, or at least one of the things she'd broken. He had tried so hard to keep her alive, had done so much for her, and she had threatened to discard his efforts. There was no reason for him to think that she had his best interests in mind. And she had been selfish to deny him space to heal from wounds caused by her, though Reverie wished fiercely that he would have just said it, that he would acknowledge, directly and out loud, that she was the problem. If what he needed was to be away from her, she would give him that; forever, if that was what it meant.
And she realized, too, that she did not want to live anymore, not after Blossom had grown and gone her own way — and that she would anyway, if only for the fear that Lestan might someday find out that she had done as she'd threatened after all. Maybe it was best that she was going to Sweetharbor. Reverie could feel the haze creeping up on her already, and she knew that she couldn't leave Blossom like this, not now. Everett would know what to do. Everett would be able to care for Blossom. And Reverie...
She would sleep.

She went to the sea, and for a long time she only sat and stared, and wondered what her life would be like without Lestan. Then she went to her daughter, and started to gather their things for the journey. She would speak to Bridget before they left. She would have to tell Vairë and Rhaegal, too. Perhaps Everett was already on his way here, and Lestan wouldn't need to escort her at all.
For a time she busied herself with these thoughts, and felt nothing. But eventually she started to really think about it, the end, the lonely nights ahead, and she found herself leaning against the wall of the den she would soon leave behind and sobbing. She did not want to go. But she would. Only as long as you want me, she'd once promised him in the quiet of her own mind, only as long as I can bring light to your eyes — and she'd meant it.