Work Text:
In the moonlight, the silence was only broken by the ancient ticking of a massive pendulum at the end of the corridor. Venti got up, thus breaking all the prohibitions imposed upon him.
It was cold outside–a damp, vicious cold that seeped through every crack. The floor itself was icy, but Venti bravely crossed it barefoot, his eyes fixed on his target. Leaving the warm comfort of his bed in such temperatures required a very good reason…and that very good reason was sleeping soundly in the bed on the other side of his room.
Using his experience to avoid all the noisy planks, Venti managed to reach his twin's bed without waking him. It had become a habit to do this now; he ended most nights by his side.
Skillfully lifting only a corner of the sheet so the cold wouldn't wake Dorian, Venti slipped smoothly into them before tucking them in to remain in this peaceful sanctuary of slumbering warmth. He snuggled against his brother, holding him close, his face nestled in the crook of his neck. He inhaled the sweet scent of Cecilias from his pajamas, a scent he had long since associated with the love he felt for his brother. He pressed himself against Dorian, mirroring his position.
While Venti usually fell asleep immediately, this night was different. Dorian was a little restless, experiencing some nervous movements. He must be having a bad dream,Venti thought. He then held him a little tighter, kissed him on the cheek, and fell asleep despite his slight worry for his twin. Their hearts beat as one.
Venti found himself in a medieval fortress.
Without any frills or decorations, everything was the dark gray of the stone that made up the walls, floors, and ceilings. The few lights came from tall braziers—much taller than Venti himself—placed sporadically in the corridors and rooms.
Venti wandered aimlessly through the building. Seeing that there were no windows or exterior doors, and despite his short, childlike legs, he was soon certain he had seen it all.
He began searching the few rooms that made up the floor. They were all banquet halls emptied of food and people, and kitchens devoid of furniture and provisions. He looked under the tables and in the cupboards for anything of interest. He felt oppressed, as if pursued, even though nothing but the wind could be heard.
Opening a broom closet, he discovered a massive staircase behind it, luxuriously carpeted its entire length in a blood-red hue. Without a second thought, Venti took the stairs two at a time, leaving the gloomy lower floor, but the feelings he had been experiencing remained with him.
This floor was like the previous one, only the rooms now seemed to house armorers equipped with all sorts of sharp weapons and battle-scarred, broken, and deformed armor. The wind outside blew much harder, seemingly determined to find a way through the stone.
In addition to the feeling of insecurity in front of all the arsenals of each suit of armor, the entire floor gave off a horrible smell of gunpowder, as if dozens of cannons had been firing continuously for days and that stench had seeped into every rock of every wall.
Venti wanted to flee, but the staircase was gone. A tapestry the same blood red as the carpet had taken its place. Venti ran. But it was no use; everywhere he ran, armor equipped with swords, spears, and axes still threatened him. And still no way out, no escape from the shadows of trembling weapons on the walls, as if they pursued Venti no matter where he fled, threatening him at every moment.
From room to room, from step to step, Venti went faster and faster. He was lighter and lighter. And then he flew. He ran on the air, up and up. The ceiling was within his reach when it suddenly opened, or perhaps it was already open and he only realized it now. And he moved to the floor above. And the one above that.
He climbed as fast as his legs would allow. The floors darkened and the wind grew increasingly agitated, the stones turning black. The lights went out one by one, the floors passed by faster and faster.
Then nothing more; the darkness prevented them from being seen. Only the wind remained.
Venti finally stopped; there was nothing left to run from. There was only the wind and the darkness; going higher in that tower would lead him nowhere else. He couldn't know it, but he knew it. He couldn't go back down. There was nothing higher, and everything around him was dark. Without landmarks, with nothing to do but endure the threat of an external storm ready to burst in and blow him away at any moment, Venti sat down. Alone, with nothing around him.
Though distant and now invisible, the shadows of the weapons still seemed to haunt him and the feeling of danger persisted. The oppression, the sense that his life was threatened, clung to him, tightening in his throat. Even tears wouldn't flow; he wanted to scream, but his voice was mute. So he did nothing. He remained there, in the darkness, waiting for the wind to finally break through and pounce on him, or for the blades to reach and assail him.
The wait was long, unbearable. Nothing was happening, but it was as if everything was closing in on Venti. Then came the tears.
They weren't his. Someone was there, crying.
Venti approached the person and found his brother in the same distress, enveloped in darkness, threatened and isolated. It broke his heart to see him like this. He threw himself upon him, freeing himself from everything that had held him back until then, ignoring his own suffering to rescue the one he loved most.
Dorian jumped when he felt Venti's warmth embracing him, the sweetness of his love drowned out the roar of the wind crashing against the rock, his arms around him protected him from the armor.
“Venti, are you here? Is that really you?!”
“I will always be there for you!” Venti consoled, kissing his head.
Dorian slowly got up, surprised to find strength in his legs.
“Did you come into my nightmare?” asked Dorian.
“By chance, I didn’t even know it before I saw you, but now that we’re together there’s nothing to fear.” Venti replied.
“No… You came but everything is still here… The armor, the wind, the darkness, everything is still here… Now you too are a prisoner of all this.” said Dorian sadly, his face dark.
Venti looked at him for a few moments. His face clearly showed that he had given up, that this wasn't the first time Dorian had endured this nightmare. Seeing him like this, resigned to suffering, was painful. Where Venti had always been the daring one and the adventurer, Dorian had always been the bravest. Venti rushed headlong into danger, into the unknown, without taking the time to think, but Dorian did. Dorian thought about it and faced all his fears and doubts for Venti, to help him and get him out of this. It was natural for them, they operated like that, but for the first time, Venti was confronting the reality of their relationship. He couldn't burden him like this, especially not him.
Venti held him even tighter, closer than ever. Dorian's breathing came in gasps; he still seemed beside himself, panic had completely taken hold of him. Venti placed a kiss on his brother's lips, as if to seal them.
“We are not in a prison. We are in a dream. We can fight!”
Venti didn't know how to fight, not even in his dreams. He didn't know what to do to help his brother. But he wanted to help him, with all his heart. He was in a dream; there was only one thing to do: dream.
He first tried to fight the darkness. He remembered a time he and his brother were in a park together. The sun shone that day and a vast meadow stretched out among the trees, seeming immense. A few trees were scattered about, bearing some fruit after a beautiful but rainy season. The earth was still fresh from the previous day's rain and had a lingering scent of grass. There were hardly any clouds in the sky as he cherished that memory of him and his brother running to and fro.
When he opened his eyes, the meadow stretched out before him. It was even more beautiful than he had imagined. Dorian looked around in amazement.
“Did you do this? How?” he asked, gaping.
“We’re dreaming,” Venti replied, trying not to be as surprised as his twin. “All you have to do is know you’re in this meadow to go there!”
“But… what about the tower? And the wind?” Dorian worried.
And the wind, freed from the tower, rose over the plain. The distant trees did not merely stir, they were lifted up; it was a veritable tornado advancing upon them.
Filled with confidence, Venti took Dorian's hands. He rested his forehead against his and closed his eyes.
“Do as I do,” whispered Venti.
Dorian then imitated him. They were becoming lighter and lighter,floating now, but not to flee this time. They opened their eyes and faced the storm that was bearing down on them.
“This is our dream now, so we’re the ones who control the wind!” exclaimed Venti, trying to convince Dorian as much as the tornado that roared toward them. “We’re not going to let some silly wind ruin our nights!”
Holding hands, forming a wall, the tornado struck the twins head-on. But when it did, it was nothing more than a summer breeze. Its terrifying breath was silenced.
The nightmare was over. The tower had vanished, even the wind had died away.
They enjoyed the plain as much as they had that day. They were together, just like back then. They flew and ran, accompanied by wild animals. They were together and united.
They were fine.