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Nerissa awoke with a jolt, chest heaving.
An unbearable heat seared through her body, leaving behind a trail of deathly cold. Her eyes remained shut tightly, as if they could provide anything more than slight resistance against the dreadful sensation.
Her breathing was constricted. She drew ragged, wheezing gasps, little hiccups of air that left her dizzy for more.
Something harsh and violent tightened around her neck.
It took her a moment to realize that it was her own hands.
With the sickening realisation, she immediately loosened her hold. Her hands fell against her chest as she caught her breath in shallow, harsh pants.
Her eyes felt dry as she stared holes into the ceiling, but she refused to close them, refused to revisit the dreamscape that had plagued her subconscious for far too long.
It had been getting better recently – she'd thought so, at least. The dreams had subsided, the residual phantom sensations mere whispers of a past long left behind.
But that collar had been around her neck for too long. Binds that had dug into flesh for millennia were not so easily forgotten. Unbreakable chains, a testament to her prisoner status, a promise of her future, were seared into her soul like a mark of slavery.
Perhaps there was no true escape from the cell – and perhaps there never would be.
Tears welled up before she could shut the thoughts out. She bit her lip to temper the agony that threatened to resurface, but it did nothing to stifle the sniffles that escaped.
“Nerissa?”
She flinched, freezing, though it was impossible to suppress the tremors as emotions stronger than tidal waves crashed over her.
“Hey, it's okay. It's okay.”
A pair of hands came to rest at her waist, attempting to pull her towards the warmth of that voice.
She resisted at first, but fatigue left her weak and unwillingly compliant. Those hands guided her quivering body, pulling her onto her side.
She found herself face to face with Elizabeth, and something inside her recoiled.
Her shoulders stiffened, eyes widening a fraction.
Elizabeth noticed.
Her brows furrowed, and she withdrew her touch. Nerissa felt blankets that had become far too suffocating peel away from sweat-slicked skin. Before she knew it, her bare body had been revealed; exposed, but freed.
Elizabeth offered a small smile – a tentative, reassuring thing, though she couldn't feel its warmth through the eclipse of panic.
“It's okay. Just breathe.”
As if her lungs had been waiting for the order, Nerissa inhaled deeply.
“There you go.” An unbearable fondness coated the words; her heart yearned to reach for it, but her mind cautioned against illusory poison, an enemy that had never truly been hers.
Her hands trembled as she reached for her wings.
Fingers combed through the smooth feathers, the action bringing a measure of comfort. Her gaze fell down – away from Elizabeth's face, from her eyes, from the memory of much darker times that lay behind those crimson depths.
She stared at Elizabeth's flame, burning as bright as ever against her chest. Her vision was blurred, but tears refused to fall as she focused her attention on the repetitive actions of her fingers. Elizabeth’s soft encouragements dispelled the silence, hushed sounds of affection that sought to infiltrate the darkness.
As her mind started to separate past from present, she felt an aching need seep into the cracks it left behind.
Her eyes flickered back up to Elizabeth, wary – weary – but ready.
Arms were opened, and she let herself fall readily into Elizabeth's embrace.
“I'm here,” she murmured, directly into Nerissa's ear. “You can relax. I'll protect you.”
The dam opened, and Nerissa sobbed.
She wrapped her arms tightly around Elizabeth’s stomach, grasping the back of her shirt as she pulled her closer. Her wings followed suit, wrapping protectively, possessively, around Elizabeth's hips, cocooning them, secluding them from a world that seemed poised to separate her from everything she knew to be safe.
She felt Elizabeth's hands rest against her shoulderblades, her touch cautious but present. Nerissa's chest welled with more emotion than she could comprehend, and she buried her face into Elizabeth's collarbone, overwhelmed, overstimulated by the mere notion of being cared for.
Nerissa wasn't sure how long she remained in that position, crying into Elizabeth's shoulder, clinging to her for dear life while gentle hands caressed her back with a reverence almost too tender to comprehend. Not once did Elizabeth shift, though it dawned on her as she eventually came around that the embrace was likely uncomfortable for her.
She hadn't even realized that she'd grown still until she felt a warmth against the back of her head, fingers parting through wisps of baby hair until they cradled her nape.
She inhaled deeply, holding the breath for a few moments. When she exhaled, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders, and allowed herself to relax, if only slightly.
After releasing Elizabeth's shirt from her grip, she slipped her hands underneath it.
Elizabeth’s skin was always hot to the touch, but where it had once caught her off-guard, now it provided a comfort she never fully realized how much she needed.
Her hands slid up Elizabeth's back, curling around her torso beneath the shirt in an attempt to touch as much of her as possible.
“I can take it off,” Elizabeth murmured; she could hear the suppressed mirth in her voice, a withheld teasing that knew its place in such a vulnerable moment.
Nerissa hesitated, an innate fear rearing its head at even the thought of losing an inch of contact, before she pulled away, not without whining her reluctance.
Her eyes remained fixed on Elizabeth as she lifted herself up. She pulled the shirt off without delay, dropping it to the floor behind her, before laying back down, bare body facing Nerissa, arms already outstretched and waiting for her.
With shaky breaths, Nerissa returned to her previous position, arms immediately wrapping around Elizabeth's torso. She groaned quietly at the increased skin contact, the sensation of shared warmth taming the beast of anxiety that had been roaring ever since she'd awoken from that imprisoning nightmare.
For a long while, Nerissa focused on nothing more than the steady beating of Elizabeth's heart, shifting downwards until she could press her head against the flame that burned bright above it.
She had once thought it to be dangerous, and had even more distantly feared its power, but now she knew of its warmth, and the protection it provided.
Nerissa could feel it, just barely: drying her wettened cheeks, caressing her skin. It was always an intriguing sensation, one of light fingertips against tender bruises; of a soothing kiss against a love bite.
She rarely touched it, even during intimate moments – as with her horns, Elizabeth's flame was sacred, bound to her soul just as strongly as Nerissa's own power. Just being able to touch it was a feat of its own right; many claimed the fire was too hot to even draw close to, even if Elizabeth could control the temperature.
Elizabeth’s flame wasn't nearly as sensitive as her horns, but the instinct to respect a boundary prevailed, derived from her own needs. Even when hands roamed feverishly and bodies yearned for release, they remained respectful of one another's most sacred features… for the most part, at least.
But the feeling of flame against skin provided an effective distraction from the shivers that still coursed through her body, and so in that moment Nerissa indulged, pressing her face into the cerulean fire and feeling it respond with equal eagerness.
Elizabeth exhaled as Nerissa's body began to relax. Arms that had previously hovered, reluctant to constrict, now rested against Nerissa's side, draping loosely over her hips. Hands rested at the dip of her back, not quite touching that sensitive spot where feathers met skin, but close enough to stake a silent claim – not of possession but of promise, a silent vow to forever remain where Nerissa needed her most.
Minutes passed, turning into hours as dawn approached. Bodies moved with careful adjustments as they sought mutual comfort, their touches light and intimate without wandering too far into sexual territory.
Eventually, the sensation of physical belonging lulled Nerissa into a state of half-lucidity. Deep-rooted anxiety would forever keep her from falling back asleep, but a contentment to be held and comforted allowed for a level of relaxation. Only time would soothe the ever-persistent ache of trauma, but she had always found that Elizabeth’s arms made for a wonderful substitute for the time being.
She felt Elizabeth doze off against her more than once, but she would always jolt back awake. The second time it happened, she smiled softly against the flames. After the third time, she finally pulled away.
“You're allowed to sleep, you know,” she murmured, meeting wine-red eyes with appreciation and fondness that reflected right back at her.
Elizabeth's hold tightened, and she shook her head with a smile, as if her answer was obvious. And it was, really. “I said I'd protect you. I plan on doing so.”
The dedication made something deep inside Nerissa stutter. Lacking the energy to acknowledge it properly, she lifted her head up, pressing a soft, tender kiss to the corner of Elizabeth's mouth. “Thank you.”
Elizabeth reciprocated with a kiss to her temple, once more pulling Nerissa into her embrace. “Can you sleep?”
Nerissa hesitated, then shook her head, gaze falling away as her smile faltered.
“Want me to make us breakfast?”
“Soon,” Nerissa murmured, shifting to find a more comfortable position. “Just a bit longer.”
Elizabeth complied wordlessly, humming softly in agreement as Nerissa's head came to rest against her collarbone.
As Nerissa settled, Elizabeth started to hum softly, running her fingers through silky black hair. A small, satisfied noise escaped Nerissa at the sensation, and Elizabeth took it as her cue to continue.
Nerissa felt herself relaxing once more, the mutterings of anxiety growing ever quieter. Elizabeth combed rhythmically, working her way through the silky locks, humming along with a tenderness that never failed to soothe.
Elizabeth's voice had always found a way to dispel even the stubbornest of fears. It was one of the things about her that had initially drawn Nerissa in, long before she'd properly gotten to know the woman she now loved above all else.
When she'd been locked away, her world had been silent for thousands of years, until one day an unfamiliar prison guard started humming a quiet tune.
As a sound demon, music to her was as much an art form as it was a language. So when she'd heard that first melody, she'd been intrigued.
Elizabeth had hummed beautifully even back then, but the notes had always carried with them an air of loneliness, a melancholy that echoed through the cell, befitting of such a miserable setting, but pitiful nonetheless. Still, it was the first time she'd heard music for as long as she could remember.
She still remembered the way her intact horn had throbbed, desperate to join in, a power reminding her of its presence after what had felt like an eternity of suffocating dormancy.
Weeks later, when she was moved from isolation to the cell, that humming persisted, only now it had a face.
She started to learn who Elizabeth was while in the cell. She learned of titles and allies and responsibilities – but also of unspoken compassion, of ferocious loyalty. Despite her role as their jailer, Elizabeth quickly gained her respect.
And if Nerissa delighted in the rush of excitement that came with teasing the scarlet warden? If she started to anticipate those rare nights where, while the rest of the prison slumbered, two longing voices entwined to create the most beautiful harmonies? That was her business.
She had been irrefutably drawn to the scarlet warden long before even learning her name, but it wasn't until after their escape, after the monitoring started, that she truly came to understand the woman for who she was beneath that tough yet tender exterior.
It didn't take long for her to grow fond of Elizabeth herself, but that didn't mean she felt safe around her – quite the opposite, in fact. It took years for Nerissa to learn to fully let down her guard, to embrace the fact that Elizabeth truly wanted nothing but the best for her.
In her heart she had long known it to be true. But the mind was not so easily reassured, and thus it took even longer for those defensive instincts to fully settle around her former warden, even as their relationship bloomed. Even a decade later, she still had moments, infrequent as they were; no matter how much time passed, she would always be a former prisoner, and Elizabeth her former warden.
But in that moment, nestled between strong arms, helped securely against warm skin, it mattered not. She knew she could trust Elizabeth to know what to do: when to hold tight, when to let go, when to stay and when to leave. They had long since learned one another's language; just as Elizabeth had a need to protect – to monitor – Nerissa forever yearned to be free.
It was just part of who they were— no, who they had become. What life had honed them into. They weren't perfect, but they were each other’s, and that was what mattered to them.
And so, Elizabeth had learned to loosen her hold when the world felt a little too tight, to hold her close when it became too much. Nerissa had in turn learned to look beyond words and actions for a deeper meaning, for intentions locked behind prison bars of a different kind.
Both learned to promise their own version of forever. Not in words, but in actions, intentions, small gestures that would grow to mean more than any vow ever had, and ever could.
It wasn't a lot, but it was enough for Nerissa. She was sure it was enough for Elizabeth, too.
Birdsong echoed just beyond the bedroom windows, a beautiful melody that had Nerissa humming absentmindedly. She harmonized with Elizabeth, hearing the smile in her lover's notes and soon finding herself smiling back. Elizabeth's music had always been just as infectious as her enjoyment of it, after all.
She could feel a tiredness in her eyes from lack of sleep and mental fatigue, but the atmosphere was pleasant, as it always was when Elizabeth held her.
She shifted – remembered they were both naked as sensitive skin brushed against sensitive skin.
Nerissa gasped, then laughed breathlessly as Elizabeth pressed her body closer, just briefly, a moment of teasing she knew her lover couldn't resist, before pulling away.
She smiled softly down at Nerissa as she propped herself up. Her head tilted to the side, eyebrows raising innocently. “Breakfast?”
“You're going to tease me and just leave it like that?” Nerissa pouted playfully as she relaxed back on the bed, eyeing Elizabeth expectantly.
Elizabeth huffed with all affection and no annoyance, lifting a hand to Nerissa's face. She cupped Nerissa's cheek, lightly brushing her thumb across pale skin. “Just don't want to overwhelm you. We have a long day ahead of us, after all.” Her voice was tender, though the reservation in it only drove Nerissa forward.
“I can handle a little overwhelming,” she pressed, reaching upwards with a glint in her eye. “Won't you please overwhelm me?”
She looped her arms around Elizabeth's neck, attempting to pull her downwards, but her lover refused to budge.
“Glad you're feeling better, but nice try.” She leaned down briefly, pecking Nerissa on the lips before pulling away completely, watching in amusement as hands dramatically fell away from her neck and onto the mattress.
Leaving a grumbling Nerissa to mourn the loss, she slipped off the bed, reaching down to pick up her abandoned shirt.
An instinct flared up at the movement.
“I want that,” Nerissa blurted, sitting up abruptly.
“I know,” Elizabeth responded, gentle.
Because Nerissa liked to wear Elizabeth’s clothes in moments of vulnerability. Liked to feel blanketed, held in Elizabeth's embrace, surrounded by her perfume. Usually after sex, but this was no exception. It quietened something inside of her, something vulnerable, a weak, needy side she had never been fond of, but had long since learned to accept.
And Elizabeth knew – of course she knew. But still.
She took the shirt from Elizabeth's outstretched hand and pulled it over her head, dressing quickly. It was oversized, especially on her lithe body, so there was little to worry about when it came to covering up – though modesty was typically the last thing on her mind when it came to Elizabeth.
A warmth settled over her shoulders, faint, but crucial. A presence, a reassurance. A sense of belonging, of being needed. Of Elizabeth, and everything she had promised.
Her eyes had fallen shut at some point as she basked in birdsong, the sounds of Elizabeth getting dressed, and a quiet warmth that had replaced the emptiness from before. When she opened them, Elizabeth was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a fondness that felt blinding.
A hand outstretched. Unnecessary, but there. Always.
“Ready?”
Nerissa inhaled, then nodded, taking Elizabeth's hand.
Elizabeth brought the hand to her lips, brushing a kiss against the golden band on her ring finger – the one band Nerissa would keep with her, willingly, always.
“Then let's go face the world.”