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He knew it was a dream. The world seemed to have slowed and there was no one else there beside him and the female on the throne. He knew it was a dream, because that female was dead and because he would never return to that palace. Yet, there she was, beckoning him to come to her, like many times before. She particularly liked to feel the tension on the leash she had on him. Thoroughly enjoy knowing he despised the ownship she claimed and commandeer. The more he resisted the more she was amused by it. It had always been a game of power for her, that was what she loved the most. Power. And on this dreamland he had none, just like before.
He bristled at the thought of coming closer to Maeve, not really paying attention to which form he was in. She would not have him again.
He felt the warmth of arm snake its way to his chest from around him, glittering iron nails pressing slightly into his skin. An anchor. Wolf, that irreverent voice whispered, you’re mine now. Her breath on the back of his neck, one more tug into reality. Across from him Maeve rose, gathering her power in anger and disgust by his defiance. Come back to me, and those iron nails pressed enough to hurt pulling him back just as Maeve exploded her power.
His eyes snapped open, immediately finding those gold-flecked black eyes. She wouldn’t allow the concern into them just yet, but he could hear her heart thundering in her chest. They rarely talk about the past, but Asterin knew where his nightmares took him, to whom. The same way Fenrys knew where her mind took her when she gazed into the vastness of the world, eyes empty and lips tight. A world full of possibilities and curiosities, that a little one didn’t even have the time to discovered.
“You know there’s only one female you’re allowed to dream about.” She purred, settling back into bed. Her half naked body pressing against his.
It had taken a while, but she had grown accustom to wearing barely nothing to sleep, expect the tunic to cover the scar over her lower belly. He didn’t care about the brand, like she had called it. All he cared about was that the feeling of her skin against his was smoothing and comforting. Apparently a convenience she indulged to appease his possessive and dominant fae side.
“You. Only you.” She snickered at the smugness that had won her over. It had taken time to reach this shared sense of comfort with each other. Too long had they lived with their wounds and demons whispering in their heads.
To think this all thing had started with an actual chase, culminating with a brawl and blood to top it off. Fenrys had been deep in his own head, circling memories and feeling long buried, so he had shift into his wolf form and run through the woods. Getting lost in primitive instincts had been the best way to dissociate when his trauma resurfaced. He had been drawn, unbeknownst to him, to a clearing where Asterin was tearing her iron nails savagely on a large oak tree. She haltered when he was only 20 feet from her. The wolf in him had been foolish enough to think he could sneak up on the witch. She lunged back feverishly, eye gleaming with predatory intent. Somehow he sidestepped her attack. And what began with warning snarls and snapping of iron teeth, ascended to a chase through the woods and a fight by a river bed. He didn’t shift back, let the witch go head to head with his wolf, sharp teeth against iron teeth and claws against iron nails. Asterin may have been roaring, the wolf may have been growling back. He had enough sense of self to never let his teeth do more damage than scrapes, she never went for his neck. They lunged at each other, rolled, push and pull, until exhaustion overthrown everything else.
After that, a silent understanding had passed between them, to seek each other’s violence instead of wallowing in misery. What started as wolf against witch then changed to warrior against warrior. Then in the middle of all that Fenrys would throw a provocation, Asterin would dismissed it. But when he made her laugh for the first time, he wanted to hear that sound more. Wanted her wholy.
“When do I get to kill her in your dreams?” His warrior witch always eager for a fight. Life of peace didn’t come easy for people like them, used to fight, used to being weapons, used to chaos. This stillness that peace offered was unsettling.
“You get me all day everyday. That’s revenge enough.” He kissed her with a worship she didn’t allow outside the bedroom, or closet or dark corner in an alley or clearing in the woods. Everyone knew, but there was something in him that enjoy being the only one to see this side of Asterin. The one that allowed care and cuddling and softness. He had fallen head over heels by the irreverent and wild witch with a sharp smile and wicked mouth. But this one, that melted in his arms, that saw all of him and didn’t balk at his demons, that was the one he longed for all his life. To be his match in wildness.