The Sunspire [m] Lying in the dark with a wake curled over my head

This can wait if you want, just whenever you have time <3

She was lost. Again.
Reverie had meant to catch up to @Boone, hurrying across the desert and through the mountains at a pace that had @Blossom complaining. But she was too afraid to slow down. Afraid that he would reject her; afraid that she would never find him at all, and that would be it. Her new beginning crumbled to dust before it even truly began.
But she would deserve it, wouldn't she? Reverie was in tears by the time she finally gave up on finding her way through the mountains, and tipped her muzzle to the sky to call helplessly for Boone. She hoped that he would come. They needed to talk. And honestly, she wasn't sure she could find her way again without him.

never fear i an the king of un-plotlocking

He had not been far when he heard the familiar patter of paws behind him. He'd been waiting near the precipice of the tallest mountain in the range, and for once he felt at peace rather than the chaos of the past weeks. Reverie's absence, however, was noted; and unappreciated.
But at the same time, a frustrated bitterness had been brewing. What were they doing? Why were they such a fucking mess? And he still wasn't over—
Hey, you, he greets her with the same, lazy smile; tired, worn. I see you finally got yourself outta them tumbleweeds down south, huh?
She looks concerned, glassy-eyed, and he notices immediately. Why're you cryin', sweetheart? What's the matter? instantly does he sweep her into his arms, as if he hadn't just been cross with her mere moments before. He's frantic, almost; cautious. You don't gotta cry.

There he was. She let out a breath at the sight of him, his tired smile, his dark eyes full of affection. A small sound slipped from her as he pulled her into an embrace, somewhere between relief and sorrow. You - I - Reverie stammered, her heart thrumming wildly in her throat. She felt as if she might be sick. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. I - I thought -
I thought you were going to leave, Her tears began to fall then, and she tucked her face into his fur to hide them. He hadn't left. He was still here. Even these simple facts did not soothe her. Lestan, too, had stayed for a time — but in the end he had wanted nothing more than to leave her. How could she trust that Boone wouldn't do the same?

His anger melts away into something fiercely apologetic. I thought you were gonna leave me, you tried to.
He lets the silence hang for a moment, arms erupting with an onslaught of trembles. Do you want this? he then asks, voice soft, yet heavy; A life. With me. A place to call our own. You, you keep-- leading me these places, and runnin' off to talk to these people, and I'm-- by all means, I'm glad you got friends, but where does that leave me? I mean, fuck, what are we? his eyebrows twitch, ears now bent to his skull. I felt alone out there, Rev. In that valley. In that desert. And it made you so, sad, to be there, and-- I'onno. I'onno what I'm sayin'. I just,
He pulls back if only to look at her eyes. I'm afraid one day you'll wake up and decide you don't want me no more.

Oh. Her own paws trembled a little as Boone spoke, and Reverie abruptly felt ashamed of herself. She'd been so afraid of getting too attached — of depending too much on him. Somewhere along the way, she'd started to push him away. And she'd never meant to do that.
When he pulled away to meet her eyes and expressed his own fear, her heart lurched painfully in her chest. Never, She breathed, and meant it with everything in her. I - I'm sorry. For making you feel alone. I - I guess I'm just - I'm afraid of the same thing. That you'll... get sick of me, or you'll find someone better, or - realize that I'm not making you happy, and then... Reverie swallowed hard and let the sentence fade unfinished. I don't know what we are. But I -
Well, I think I'm falling in love with you, Her ears fell as she made the confession, and she looked away, suddenly certain that it would be too much. Still, she continued, albeit more quietly, I want... I want you to be my forever. If that's what you want, too.

It was in her words that Boone found himself.
She speaks and it sounds as if it must be coming from him; the gripping, soul-eviscerating fear that one day one will lose the other. And he understood, oh, how he understood, possibly much more than she could ever imagine.
His heart thrums in his chest and beats into his ears, and before he's even aware of it, his own tears begin to form at the corners of oakwood eyes. I'm not gonna get sick a' you, babydoll, he reaches forward to kiss the tears that roll down honey-gold cheeks. as long as you don't get sick a' me. I mean, c'mon, I-- I followed you all the way here, didn't I? I wouldn't'a done that if I was plannin' on gettin' outta dodge the first second I could. I just-- his breath catches in his throat before he shatters into a sullen laugh. man, God almighty, the desert ain't for me.
And it was in that lapse of silence that he hears that word; love; she's falling in love with him. And part of him, some disgustingly logical part of him said that it was far too soon for either of them to know what forever would look like with the other, that this giddiness and feathersoft air between them would last. That the passion would fade and resentment would grow and boil into something heartless;
But he looks at her, at those soft golden eyes and that dainty nose, the little platinum hairs that line her cheeks; he smells her, that saltpine clutch and the way she feels beneath him and beside him.
If they both meant forever, to build a home, to be a family — why did formalities matter?
Fuck it.
Reverie, sincerity tugs at his vocal chords, threads every muscle and every cell within him, and like a gentleman he extends himself into some sort of awkward, haphazard bow. Only briefly does he look to see where they are, and they may as well be on top of the world. will you be my wife? Right here, right now.

More than anything, she wanted to believe him.
If she was honest with herself, she didn't. Not yet. How could she? Lestan had made so many of the same promises; he'd kept them, too, until he hadn't. Until the day he'd looked her in the eyes and told her that to be the best version of himself, he had to be away from her. How could she trust that anyone would continue to want her, after that?
But she knew that she would never learn to trust Boone if she didn't try. The only way to heal from these wounds, then, was to take the risk; to accept that maybe she would be burned again, and maybe it would be the last time. The thought frightened her.
And then —
For a moment she didn't understand. Reverie blinked at him, eyes wide and filled with gentle surprise. His wife? His —
Yes, She didn't think about it. Not even for a moment. Reverie ducked her head to kiss him even before he rose from his bow, not letting herself think about the future or what this meant or how very quickly it was all happening. In a way it was healing; hadn't she waited for months, wept for months for a man who would not call her wife until the very end? And here was Boone, who had known her for mere weeks, asking her to be his.
There was nothing she wanted more.

It was stupid, oh-so stupid, and he knew this somewhere in him. He knew not even her surname or where she had come from, if he could truly trust her with himself, his love; and yet here he was, and he found himself delighted to hand himself away.
They both wanted this. What did it matter otherwise?
He sweeps her in a tight embrace, cold nose pressed into the ruff at her neck. What made a marriage official? He didn't exactly have anything to give her, anything to seal it into place. Okay, he mutters. you're my wife. You're my wife and I love you, the stupid toothy grin tugs at his lips. I love you.

He loved her —
And maybe it was too soon, maybe it was ill-advised and foolish and thoughtless, but — I love you, Reverie breathed past her tears, tucking her muzzle into his fur, taking in his scent and his warmth. His wife; his new beginning; his home. All of these things she promised to him in this moment, and more than anything Reverie hoped that the future he saw in her would bring him peace.
She hoped that she could be all that he dreamed of.
I didn't think I would love again, She confessed next, voice soft. But I - with you, I feel... seen. I feel safe. And I want to make you feel that way, too. What she wanted was to be the light that led him home, as he was to her. This, too, she promised with every press of her lips to his cheek, his neck, his shoulder. She trailed kisses slowly across his fur and hoped that he would feel every promise in them.

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His wife. His wife!
Sweet, sensitive Reverie; his Reverie; You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world, and the tears that well in her eyes bring tears of his own, shiny and gleaming. Jesus, I-- his words devolve into a stream of hearty laughs as her face presses into his jaw, his neck. holy shit, I have a wife.
A fucking wife!
Euphoria at the sudden realization swells warm in his gut, a tingle all through his limbs; a high like no other. A wife! A wife! A wife!
His wife. His. Only his.
His own lips part to pepper giddy little kisses across her face, a nip to her ear, a grind of his body against hers. C'mere. they were married — married! — and what better way to celebrate than to consummate right in the center of your venue?

The luckiest man in the world.
But she was the lucky one, wasn't she? Lucky because she knew that her heart would be safe with him, that he would be gentle with the most tender parts of her now left bare and shivering with the slightest breeze. Lucky because he'd found her, because he'd come to love her, because he'd given his own heart just as readily and promised forever in the same breath.
And forever was nothing like what she'd once imagined. Boone was not a man of pretty words, not so delicate and silkspun; he was all raw unfiltered emotion, all flickering silver flame, a heat that soothed her and threatened to consume her all at once. Maybe that was what she'd needed all along: a match to the wildfire of her own spirit.
I love you, Reverie murmured again, again, again, melting into his arms; pouring herself into him until she could no longer define where she ended and he began. It didn't matter anymore. There on the Sunspire, so high above the rest of the world that it hardly seemed real, she pressed the fading embers of her heart into his hands and watched them burst back to flame.