Neverwinter Forest you became the light on the dark side of me

@Feyre ❤ 

For the first time in his life, Embry had just... left. Had wanted to leave. The sound of the ocean had fled his ears long before, and yet his heart carried that rhythm and something told him he wouldn't miss it — wouldn't miss it anymore once he found her. Feyre.

It felt odd, at first, when the familiar crunch of the sand gave way to the soft, brittle touch of the earth. Things were so silent now, it seemed, without the roar of the tide or the chorus of distant seagulls. He found that he was always on alert: searching for an obstacle and willing himself to believe that she would be waiting around the next corner. 

Her scent was faint but how could he miss it? The fragrance enveloped his every waking thought. And all he could manage to form in the way of motivation was, how could you let her go?

The world was so dim here, but in a nurturing kind of way. Like the womb, it held a maternal gentleness in the way it shielded its inhabitants from the harsh grasps of the sun. The forest was thriving, nonetheless, and it urged Embry onwards; made him deeply wish that a certain auburn girl was enjoying the scene with him. Nothing felt beautiful anymore, it seemed.

That's when her scent trail vanished. A small stream was swiftly gushing past in calm little, bubbling torrents that rippled and churned in graceful lanes. He wondered how her blonde curls shimmered at this hour. How her flaxen pelt soaked up the flourishing colors and pastel hues. Hope was fleeing so quickly from the man, who stood at the edge of the waters and watched his own reflection, questioning just who he had become.

Her every waking moment was agony without the caress of his voice. Feyre felt as though a fresh wound had been ripped in her side over the remains of the scars of her past. The pain of leaving Embry was tenfold to the pain of him leaving her. This time, it had been her decision, and it hurt her more than words could express.

The icy water stroked across her ivory paws with the touch of a lover, weaving around her lithe form as she lay peacefully within its shallow depths. The sound of the bubbling brook soothed her broken heart, the brief relief from her inner turmoil allowing her to close her eyes.

Her hearing stretched past the noise of the flowing liquid to the sound of the pebbles rushing along its depths. The flutter of the winged dark birds and the scratch of the squirrels’ claws upon the bark of the pines surrounding her came into view. Amongst It, she could hear the soft hooves of a fawn a distance away, and with it a faster, more lumbering pace of a larger creature.

Feyre’s amber optics snapped open, searching the dark edges of her sunlight clearing for the man whose footsteps she had heard far too many times not to recognize. Her vision was clear of his honeyed pelage, and a piece of her saddened. Yet the footsteps neared, and the dove was overcome by a wave of panic. Crystalline water droplets flew from her pelt as she sprung up from the spring in surprise, dashing behind the nearest pine in a flurry of noise. She remembered her promise to him, but was not keen to uphold it.

The forest, though unfamiliar territory for Embry, was clearly brimming with various wild fauna. Thus, most of the noises that paraded through his audits were merely pushed away or discredited for their limited potential threats. How many times, after all, had he spotted the swift retreat of a doe or squirrel? What difference did it make that now, as he stood within the pulsing vein of water, in the corner of his eye he saw another flurry of motion?

His head moved slowly, but in no way could he resist instinct. When you were thrust upon the wilds alone and young, some habits simply didn't change. How fortunate, eh?

There it was: in a rare patch of sunlight, a glimpse of that familiar, lemony fur. His heart was beating again — leaping in what great strides he was forced to contain; forced to control. No, he had to be cautious, now; cautious because her wings were broken and she was cornered.

He waded ever so quietly through the water, cutting folds of blue into the chilled current. And he accepted the fact that she might very well hate him. Indeed, she might try to hurt him. One thing he knew and knew for certain was this: he would not be hurting her, too. Not ever again.

"Feyre," Embry's voice was deep and warm; amused, even, as he crept toward the tree. Her attempt at hiding was so endearing; something he hoped he might pass along to little ones someday... "I know you're there." 

Feyre knew she was done for as soon as she laid eyes upon him. The owner of her shattered heart bounded up to the stream, peering into its depths with intensity. His searching gaze sent a spear of guilt through her chest. Somehow, she knew that it was she whom he sought. Yet she still made her clumsy stumble towards the shadows, wishing not to stomp upon the shards of their hearts for the second time within days.

The wraith watched his fluid body freeze at the sound of her frenzy, but still dove into the darkness. The slow turn of his head in her direction was nearly her undoing, causing her breaths to come in short bursts as she tried to convince herself that he had not seen her. The urge to heave a defeated sigh and step out from her dark abode was overrun by her pride. It was her arrogance that sent jitters down her spine and forced her paws into a dance in place. She wanted to flee, and her darting eyes reflected that desire.

He called out to her, his low timbre resonating within her bones; pulling her soul towards him though her paws remained steadfast. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, urging for her to run as he stalked nearer. His words drew out her own before her mind recognized that she had responded, “NO.”

Idiot. She chastised herself, embarrassment curling her plumage up beneath her. Now she had to step out into the filtered rays of sunlight, a mask of bravado sheltering her from her own mortification. “I meant…” She tried to think of something confident to say, “Of course I am here, but why are you?” Her mask turned dark as she tried to block out the warmth of his tone. “Do you not remember my promise to you?” That would do for now.

Embry's brow raised at the sharp, 'No'; his lips curling into a small smile. He had missed that voice so much within the brevity of hours that had passed since he had last heard it. So defiant and so... independent...

He wasn't prepared for her to show herself right then. The sun painted its glow like oil on canvas, smooth and lustrous, upon her honeyed flanks. Pools of melted butterscotch appeared from the darkness; flickered like lamps within the sudden burst of light. The brilliance of the scene stopped him in his tracks. Chin lowered. Shoulders slackened.

She fished for words and he waited, patiently; politely. He didn't dare break his gaze — he just stood there, in the stream, happy just to be exactly where he was: with Feyre. The only movement that marred the statue of his frame was the stir of droplets falling from his stained, maple fur. 

"Yes, but I'm here," his words were calm; resilient. "And I'm not making the same mistake twice." His sea-green gaze implied, I deserve this. I deserve every bruise and every break. Let me have it. 

Feyre wanted to either run into his embrace or run far away. He was watching her with those penetrating cerulean eyes. She could nearly feel the golden kiss of the glade once more and with it a whisper of his caress and tender murmurs. She was afraid to speak, afraid that the only words to leave her maw would be an invitation for him to stay. Would that be so wrong?

She wanted to scold herself for thinking such traitorous thoughts, and yet, here he was standing before her with such serene tranquility. It was as if he were sure she would not resist him… could not resist him. His confidence sent a quake through her bones, rattling her to the point of unease.

Feyre’s maw parted slightly in an attempt at speech, yet quickly snapped shut. She read the acceptance in his gaze. She could scream at him, bite at him, and scratch at him, but he would not leave. It was a fact, not a possibility.

“Embry…” The word was merely a defeated sigh. “You don’t know how to take no for an answer.” She spoke factually – sternly. “You push and push and push, yet you don’t accept when someone else pushes back.” The words tasted bitter when leaving her mouth, yet they almost felt necessary. “You turn a blind eye when someone expresses an opinion differing from yours, and if that is how you want our relationship to be, I will not be the one waking up alone, and I promise that I will not be so easy to find.” She paused, taking in a deep breath. “Do you really think that I would have been this easy to find if I didn’t want to be found? I want to be with you, to learn what love is like with you, but I can not handle to go through what you put me through again. Understand?” Her head canted to the side with finality, the sounds around them seeming to fade from her minds eye.

Despite the harsh undertone in her words, Embry couldn't shake the feeling that this was it. Maybe, finally, they could start focusing on repairing their relationship together. The thought sent tremors of joy through his chest; warmth spreading throughout. He just nodded at first; nodded and thought about how clever she was — how clever she always had been. And it hurt even more to think that he just up and left it all.

There was regret in his eyes. And what she said made perfect, logical sense: this wasn't going to be a one-sided operation. He didn't want it to be that way — hadn't even intended for it to be that way in the beginning. There were aspects of his life that had changed since then... Some of the old Embry was gone, now, and gone for good.

"Of course I understand," he took a tentative step forward; bolstered by the swelling heat within his chest. Bolstered by what she had said: about learning how to love together. Taking on the world; just the two of them. And the best part was, he knew they could do it.

The water coughed at his cautious motion. "It's not going to happen ever again. Nothing is going to hurt you. Not so long as I'm alive." Another step. He was at the edge of the stream now. "I'd rather die than have to spend another day without you."

He was draped in glimmering sunlight and cloaked in an aura of joy. His delight radiated from him in waves, and yet he still approached Feyre as though she might flee. She was thrilled with his understanding, but remained wary of his charm. She may have accepted him back into her life, but that invitation did not come with her trust free of charge. His acceptance of her harsh words was like ecstasy to her ears, he had truly changedd in their time apart. He had become better, and she only hoped that she had as well.

His words were like the melody of the songbirds to her audits, singing their sweet sonnets directly to her heart. Feyre wanted to touch his flaxen pelage once more but faltered in her bravado. Perhaps such a movement would be too forward?

Despite her hesitance, she closed the distance between them with slow, cautious steps. The fae’s eyeline met at his chin, allowing her to easily tuck her head into the soft downy fur of his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed, her voice nearly a whisper. “I know…”  She nestled in deeper, “I missed you.”

He was so delightfully warm and smelled woodsy and alluring, like soothingly rich honey. She could loose track of time in such a position yet pulled away anyways. Her eyes met his from under thick lashes, searching his gaze for answers to questions she had yet to ask.

It was as if they were starting on a clean slate, and she knew not what they were about to write upon it.

Time melted away in cascading streams of emotion around Embry. The only thing he could see was this angel advancing, tentatively and yet gradually. And while it still hurt him to realize that her faith in him was not completely restored, he knew that somewhere, he was rebuilding their castle of trust. 

It felt so good. How else could one describe it? He blinked, long and slow, and released a contented sigh that had been, for so long, bottled within his soul. And she was there again: her cheek nuzzled against his chest and he hoped that she could hear the fervor of his heart as it beat so close. He lowered his chin; rested it on her head. Breathed in her aroma; the silky-sweet texture of her aureate fur. The shock of the fae's approach subsided into the love and warmth of her presence. His mind could only stammer in repeated fragments, how brave. How brave she is.

Her words met his ears like the taste of chocolate drizzle, running through his consciousness smooth, sugary, and soft. Finally, he felt something crumble inside; something like peanut brittle. "I'm so sorry..." He mumbled into the velvety fur around her ear. And even when she pulled away, he felt that she was still there. She would always still be there. 

He met her gaze and waited now. For once, he didn't know how to start. But he saw those amber eyes and he tried anyway, to find those answers. His voice was coarse at first, "Joining the Rift was the most eventful thing that has happened since..." He trailed off; tried again, "Have you... fared well?" 

Feyre could not describe the lasting sound of his heartbeat against her head, or the feel of his breath whispering across her audits. A shiver ran down her lithe form in response, fogging her thoughts and numbing her tongue as she retreated from his warmth.

How was it he could entrance her so easily? It was a dangerous thing to desire Embry so deeply, and yet she could not deny that the emotions paving their way through her mind and body were not unwelcome. She was grateful for the official apology and could not help but further relax in his presence; her wariness subsiding.

Embry’s voice broke through the crisp air, melting through what remained of her stupor. Clarity was far beyond her reach, but she still maintained a semblance of sanity, even with him so near. After all this time, it felt as though she knew not what they should talk about. It was nearly comical to her that their conversation was so…mundane.

“In retrospect, I feel that I was fine.” Half-truth would do. It was not that she had not survived, it was just that she had become a different person. “I’ll admit…it was hard, but not entirely unbearable. I even met some pretty interesting characters wandering out there.” She released a laugh, a delighted little thing, and realized that it had been the first genuine laugh to leave her maw in months. How long had she been unhappy? How long had she been incomplete without him standing beside her, comforting her and guiding her? Perhaps it was foolish to be dependent upon another’s existence for her own joy, but Feyre was far from overcoming that. She was unsure if she even felt it necessary to work on it now that she had him once again.

“Your pack,” She blurted, remembering what he had mentioned. “Why are you so far from them?” Her mind whirled around in circles, her pallet of pastels mixing into a muddied brown. What if he expected her to follow him? She was not prepared to take on an entire group of wolves. She was not even sure if she had the capacity to be that social anymore, it had simply been too long. Her brows notched in concern, her next question written so clearly upon her face before her maw even parted. “Are you planning on going back?” If not, why, and if so, did he assume she would join him?

Embry listened intently, and when she laughed he almost felt that he could believe her. Almost. And the sound lifted upon the air like bells; joyous and clear. He couldn't help but join in: his deep timbre mixing into the light-hearted affair. There was something about his laughter, too, that just felt different. Just... right. Like he could never have felt this way without Feyre at his side. That much, he knew, was true. She was the key to happiness.

"Oh, the Rift?" He feigned ignorance; smiled with eyes that glinted rogueishly. Her concern was evident and it spread even more feathers of warmth throughout his chest. He lifted a paw from the water of the stream and watched droplets click back into the water. There was a childish demeanor in how he slanted his head; watched the ripples quake. He was comfortable again. "They aren't my pack anymore."

He tipped his gaze back up and met Feyre's. There was something new about how he looked at her now. Something new about the way he spoke. "That was never my home. Not without you, Feyre." He looked back down at the water; suddenly felt a mixture of shame and embarrassment. Added, "We should look for shelter... I can keep watch tonight, if you'd like. Are you hungry?" And his words tumbled; anxious, bashful words.

He looked at her like she was the one who painted the sky orange every morning. Feyre wanted to tuck her head in embarrassment. His adoration was intimidating, but she knew any such motion would prompt him to pester her with more admiration. It would be an endless cycle, so instead she merely let her eyes drift away briefly.

Her head canted to the side at his playful attitude towards her serious question. Was he mocking her? Alas, her tension was short-lived, for he quickly threw her his signature grin; the grin that molded a piece of her heart back together and sent her insides alight with smoldering intensity. The only way she could describe him in the moment was: endearing. He was like a puppy, even though his words answered her questions, they were said with such delight that she could not help but giggle. She supposed her queries about his stay with the Rift could wait. “It seems I’m stuck with you then?”

Once again, she wanted to hide her ivory head within the fluff of her own chest. His words dripped with honey and sang directly to her soul, charming her to her wits end. Then, the spell broke as he ducked his head, rambling about survival necessities she found currently insignificant.

The fae heaved a false sigh, draping herself onto a nearby rock softened with moss. A single paw ran across the water’s edge as she lounged. “I feel like you need to loosen up a bit Embry, the worlds not going anywhere.” The richest season was upon them, thawing the land that froze over again every nightfall. “Keep watch if you like, but I think we will be just fine right here for a few more rays of sunlight, don’t you?” She rested her chin down upon her opposite paw, one foreleg still dipping delicately into the water.

Embry's smile broadened. Everything about her was wonderful now. The sunlight deepened as she spoke, and he noticed just how much her eyes seemed like fireflies. Indeed, his gaze caught her's again, you're stuck with me.

She made her graceful way to an outcropping of rocks nearby. His gaze, of course, followed. Though he didn't move, he straightened his shoulders and perked his ears. His tail quietly stirred the water. Somewhere in his mind's eye, he recalled himself dreaming of this moment. How could he not covet her: how the world just seemed to glow around her; the way she dipped her forepaw tranquilly into the water?

He traced the ripples from her paw to where they met at his own submerged ankles. Traced them back to the rock and the beautiful woman that adorned it. His heart thumped harder and harder, until he was pushing through the water. Pushing towards Feyre. When he reached the rock, he didn't stop. He kept moving until he was beside her. And he finally just submit to the fact that this place was just too damn beautiful — too damn perfect — to simply admire by himself. 

Embry slowly lowered himself beside her. Their pelts brushed and warmth spread along his spine. With a gentle grunt, he nuzzled his cheek against the side of her neck, breathing in her scent, before pushing his nose up beside where her own rested across her paws. He murmured, "That'd be just fine with me." 

The warmth of the sunlight pouring through the treetops was overridden by the heat of the male tucked into her side. His breath was warm against the brisk leftovers of winter caressing her nose. Her undercarriage was still soaked from the icy water’s grasp, sending a shiver through her petite frame. The fae tucked into Embry’s side, nestling her maw underneath her paws.

Her amber optics fluttered shut, the sunshine hitting the back of her lids. The silence was comfortable, natural in a way. Feyre wished she could stay there forever, simply being in the brute’s presence made her feel safe. It was mildly embarrassing to know that she wanted to be protected after all of the time she spent alone, but now was not the time to dwindle in the past.

When she spoke, her words were muffled by her the fluff of her paws. “Embry darling,” She cooed, “Have you ever thought how we met?” She paused, lifting her chin and opening her eyes to peer up at the sky. “Let me clarify: How was it that amongst all of the strangers in the world, it was you that came to the border on that day?” Feyre released a gentle puff of breath, “I would have never met you if I hadn’t joined the Glade, which is why every time you mention regretting to take me away from them, I simply don’t understand it.” She mused.