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Running.
Eda ran as fast as she could, urged on by the most primal instinct to flee as the darkness closed in all around her.
She could neither see nor hear her pursuer, but she knew it was there, always just one step behind. If she slowed for even a second, it would consume her, body and soul, so she ran, racing futilely toward the ever-receding light.
Her chest ached from exertion and fear, pure terror unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, except she had experienced this. In the recesses of her mind, she knew that she’d felt this terror many, many times before.
Every muscle in her body screamed for relief. The light was just a pinprick in the distance. She could not keep pace any longer. Hot breath mussed the hair around her face. The dark presence gained on her. She could feel the tips of razor-sharp claws against her skin, pressing into her shoulders.
Fear overtook her until she couldn’t move, couldn’t even scream as the beast tore into her flesh. The inky blackness consumed everything around her as she fell into the void…
“Aah!” She gasped hoarsely, barely catching herself.
Eda stood with one foot poised against the floor, ready to bolt, while the other was crooked awkwardly behind her. Her heart raced, making her head swim and her limbs tremble. She stood in this fashion, sucking in panicked breaths, peering into the darkness around her that was nowhere near as profound as the one she’d just experienced. She half-expected to find the black eyes of the owl beast glaring back at her, but when she looked down at the amber jewel embedded in her chest, it glinted dimly in the moonlight without so much as the shadow of the beast marring its amber surface.
She was in a small room, functional and relatively organized, filled to the brim with books and stacks of paper and light, tinkling chimes that hid in the shadowy corners, disturbed by the soft breeze from the open window, left slightly cracked in the cool night. It smelled faintly of resin and dried flowers pressed between the yellowed pages of old books. It smelled like their cologne, felt like their warm skin, a tangle of arms around her lithe body.
She clamped her hand around her mouth, face flaming in the dark.
Oh Titan. She thought, mortified, as if this night couldn’t get any more humiliating. She had to get out of there.
Before her scattered brain could solidify a single thought, however, a hand touched her shoulder. She nearly jumped out of her skin. Whipped around, she instinctively raised a fist and, unbalanced by the movement, came crashing down to the floor.
“Eda!” Raine cried out in alarm, peering over the edge of the bed, their glasses half-askew.
She looked up at them, all dignity lost on her as she lay in a pile on the floor wearing one of Raine’s t-shirts and little else, so she switched to humor, her favorite defense mechanism.
“I m-must be quite a sight,” Eda quipped, cursing the slight tremor in her voice, “assaulting you in your own home after you’d graciously agreed to entertain me for the night.” She reached up to straighten their glasses, if only to keep her hands busy, but all she managed to do was bring their stupid, beautiful green eyes into greater focus, so full of concern she didn’t want. She looked away quickly, lest her face betray her.
“I…I should go.” She finished reluctantly, gathering herself off the floor.
“Hey, Eda, wait.” They caught her hand as she began to back away, taken by the same flight instinct she knew so well. “Talk to me, please. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Uh yeah, of course, Rainestorm. W-why wouldn’t I be? I’m more than okay tonight…” She chuckled, attempting to sound coy. It wasn’t entirely a lie. As she avoided their gaze, she found her eyes fixed on the exposed flesh above their loosened collar, covered in evidence from their escapades. She couldn’t deny its appeal, idly tugging the soft fabric away from the budding marks along their slender neck.
She didn’t plan on staying the night, but one thing led to another, and next thing she knew she was in Raine’s bed, and most of their clothes were on the floor. It was far from the first time she’d slept with them, but it was the first time she’d slept with them, always content to watch their sleeping face, a portrait of unbothered placidity, with a bit of envy and more love than she cared to admit.
Raine swiped Eda’s hand away, flushing in spite of themself. “For Titan’s sake, Eda, be serious,” they sighed, exasperated. They’d had this argument too many times before.
Eda threw up her arms in frustration.
“Fine! Fine. Look, it’s no big deal. The curse just gives me weird dreams sometimes. You know that. It’s fine. I’m fine.” She ended emphatically, trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince them, but both of them knew it was much more than that. The night terrors that the curse brought on were just too difficult to talk about, even in the beginning when they sent her parents running to her room almost every night as she woke screaming and fighting for her life.
“I should go,” she repeated. “You’re busy tomorrow and I’ve already kept you up long enough without my dumb birdbrain getting in the way.” She knocked on her head for emphasis, forcing an ironic smile.
“I want you to stay,” they said, their voice heartbreakingly earnest. “Titan, Eda, I care whether you say it’s a big deal or not. I care about you. Please.” They reached toward her. “You don’t have to talk about it, but please let me help you just a little bit.”
Eda couldn’t help but soften at their sincerity, as misguided as it seemed. Gently, she replied, “you know you can’t help me, Rainestorm, unless you got a bard spell that can heal my curse.” She laughed, short and bitter.
Raine had crossed the distance between them as she talked, gathering her hands into their own.
“I just want to help you sleep. I’ll sleep easier knowing that you’re okay.” They held her hands up to their face, kissing her knuckles and looking up at her appealingly in a way they knew made Eda melt.
And they did have a point. After the adrenaline high, Eda’s legs suddenly felt like lead, and the weight of years of restless nights seemed to drag her down. She felt weak, vulnerable, and the last thing she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts, her own cursed body and fucked up mind and that damnable beast that lurked inside her. She was scared of it, of what it was capable of—she’d seen the tragic consequences first-hand—but at that moment, she was mostly just tired, profoundly tired.
She yawned deeply, ending with a shaky sigh, the only outward sign of her overwrought state. Then, she gave into the magnetic pull of their warm embrace as they guided her back to bed, wondering what they could possibly do to help her. With a bit of skepticism, she climbed back into bed with them, letting them guide her into place.
“Just so you know, I already tried sleeping nettles, multiple times. Never again.” Eda shuddered at the mere memory of that ordeal.
“It’s nothing like that,” Raine insisted. “Come here.”
Eda complied as they looped an arm around her shoulders and, leaning back against the pillows, gently pulled her down with them.
For a while, she laid stiffly beside them, her bird brain fighting valiantly for dominance. Self-conscious and half-compelled to run out into the night air, to fly and be free, to rage and scream where no one could hear her anguish, the urge to flee was as strong as ever.
As if reading her mind, Raine cast a spell circle over her head, pushing the window further open a hair, letting in more of the cool breeze. They kissed her lightly on the forehead, banishing the bird brain to its lair deep within the shadowy corners of Eda’s mind. In response, she lifted the glasses off their face and gave them a fuller kiss on the lips, partially to hide her embarrassment, but mostly because she loved them. She could feel them smiling against her lips and that made all the embarrassment worth it and, eventually, she relaxed into the crook of Raine’s arm, letting her head fall against their shoulder.
Raine nudged her head closer to their chest, working their fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp. Then, they began to hum idly.
It was one of the simplest bard spells in the books, a lullaby taught mainly to new mothers and very young children just coming into their magic. Ear pressed against their chest, Eda could hear the tune resonating deep within them, their steady heartbeat keeping time with the soft melody. The results were instantaneous, intoxicating and almost hypnotic. As the gentle vibrations seemed to fill her mind and body, she sank deeper and deeper against them. She would have been annoyed if it weren’t so damn effective.
“Really, Raine? I’m not a baby,” Eda complained half-heartedly.
“You’re my baby.”
“Wow, that was corny even for you.”
“Aw, come on, I know you love it.” They replied cheekily, their chuckle reverberating in her own chest.
She did. She loved it and she loved them, so much that it scared her. Whether she feared hurting them or being rejected by them more, she couldn’t say, but none of it mattered at that moment, eyelids heavy, body relaxed, breathing slowly…
“Love you, Rainestorm,” she slurred, face pressed into their shirt, breathing them in.
They squeezed her closer to them, if that was even possible, finally letting their hand rest against the curve of her waist.
“Love you, too, Sunshine.”
Eda hardly had the energy to groan at the silly nickname, used only to tease her, as she finally sank deep into blessedly dreamless slumber, safe in Raine’s embrace. It was the best sleep she'd had in a very long time.