Closed to snaggleteeth

[talentedscavenger]

[Their time spent within the coven had come to an end, as all things do. The brownie was upset knowing his mistress was leaving him behind. As much as Rey wanted to take the small creature with them, she knew he needed to stay in the safety of the coven's walls. A brownie thrived best in a physical home, and she promised him he wouldn't want for anything. The witches would take care of him. Be companions to him in Rey's absence.

Other witches were troubled with Rey wanting to leave their hideout. Mortals were not kind to them. Others of their kind may try to harm her, or persuade her to join their ranks. Ben's plans with Rey...were at a standstill.

Rey needed to leave, to find her mortal friends. She promised to come back. Their lives weren't hindered by time like Poe and Finn's. It may have felt like she was running away from her fellow witches, but Khofar told her to hold onto her humanity. Poe and Finn didn't make Rey human, rather they were dear to her heart. Why shouldn't she check in on them? There were no rules stating she had to cut them off if she wanted to keep her power.

And so, she and Khofar made the journey to find them--her pirate and deserter. A journey that took weeks, but worth it in the end. Finding her friends, embracing them once more. Joy filled her heart and her eyes held tears of happiness. When she left for her final trial, she thought she wouldn't see them again. Believing she would die before completing it.

Poe and Finn were wary of Rey's familiar, feeling protective of the young woman. As best as Rey could to try and ease their fears, there was little to be done. They all took shelter in a nearby inn with her sleeping in a bed for the first time since they left the coven. Sleep should come peacefully to her...

But of course, it didn't.

Light, darkness and shadows filled her mind. Ben's voice calling out her name as she ran down a dirt road. Streaks of lightening illuminated the sky followed by the loud boom of thunder. Ben's voice called out to her, asking why she left, why she was running from her destiny. Unknowingly, her feet took Rey to a town on fire. Buildings engulfed by flames. The sound of people crying out in fear, in pain...a young child calling out for their parents. So much destruction and pain.

A sole figure emerged from the flames, a figure cloaked in shadows and dark robes. It reach out to her, offering her its gloved hand. It spoke to her. A metallic and reverberating voice, "You are not alone anymore."

That was enough to jolt Rey awake from her sleep with sweat clinging to her body. She sat up, pushing the thing sheet from the bed. Her body covered in sweat while her heart raced in her chest. Hidden beneath her night dress was the pendant she crafted with Khofar.

Breathe Rey told herself, breathe and she would be fine. Still, she tried to peer into the darkness of her room to see if the figured was there.]

...Khofar. [His name fell from her lips in a strain whisper, trying to calm herself down. A nightmare she had, yet it felt as real as anything else.]

Comments

[snaggleteeth]

[he is so often a wolf for her. a hound. it's the easiest shape—a woman accompanied by so many men is cause for confusion, in a world like theirs. better to be a beast, shaggy and fierce and big enough to make a solid impression on a cattle scale. it's an illusion of light rather than shape, she'll know; often enough, her hands have sunk into the surface of his fur only to brush his hand. space organizing itself around her eyes, her wish for company, to find her familiar silent, following.

the other men haven't suspected. well. they know that he's her familiar. they don't know that there's a skull of carved metal weaving through the air three, four feet above the withers of the great canine that pads in her wake. that when she slides food under his muzzle in her hand, it falls into his palm. that he eats it, even when it's debatable, still, whether he needs to. that he's always listening to the nuances of language and tone, even when a beast, no matter how clever, could not understand the dynamics of man and woman.]

I'm here.

[he sheds the shape then. the sprawl of sinew and broad coal-black paw shreds apart silently and without loud violence. gives way to his the glint of metal, the ragged fall of his cloak. and as he crosses the room, that, too, changes again. his face emerges, the cut of his nose, eyes doubly dark with worry as they find her face on the dark wood of the headboard. the mattress dips under weight of her knee. the question is sincere:] Was it a dream?

[talentedscavenger]

[Waiting, and watching for her familiar to appear either as beast or in human skin. His form emerges from the darkness and she can almost breathe a little easier. He was here with her. Not a figment of her imagination, or a piece of a nightmare. It's not until she feels the mattress dip with his weight that she lets her shoulders relax ever so slightly. Tears soon prick at the corners of her eyes and she has to use the back of her hand to keep them from spilling onto her cheeks.

The cries she heard replayed in her mind, sounding just as real as Khofar's voice. But she knew he was here, solid and warm.

There's a nod of her head. Another intake of breath to steady her voice:]

A nightmare. [A pause, hating how she sniffled like a child trying to be brave after a horrible ordeal.] It...it felt too real.

[When she was a mortal, she knew nightmares and dreams meant nothing. They were illusions crafted by her mind for one reason or another. Rey preferred it when she didn't dream, allowing her mind the full chance to rest. Now though...as a witch, could those same illusions inflict pain upon her person? A question she would need to ask once she was fully calmed down.]

There was so much pain and destruction. And it...it felt like I was the cause, or I was being invited to the chaos. [And now she was rambling after waking up her familiar from his slumber because she couldn't handle a bad dream.]

[snaggleteeth]

[her embarrassment is not something he can touch with his hands, so the thumb running up her cheek will have to do. as if the callus, shaped by weapons she's never seen him use, is a cool enough a balm to soothe away the flush in her skin. he passes a palm over the base of her throat, and the totem at her breasts begins, gently, to glow.

his face is dark with concern, brows drawn downward, eyes very still in his face. not blinking enough. normal, for him. he would be one to put weight to dreams; those suffered by witches, especially. sometimes prophesy. sometimes the paranoia and injury that guides them into fulfilling it, even when the future itself is not stone, and even stone makes itself mutable in the face of power like hers.]

Were you alone?

[khofar is not, actually, speaking of himself. he belongs to her. a sword at her hip, a staff in her hand, a prism of connection suspended from a slender chain around her neck. he is both at on on her side. the chaos beckons from somewhere else, and here, in the waking world, his arm encircles her waist and means to anchor her from its pull.]

[talentedscavenger]

[The soft glow of the totem provides some light in the room, enough for Rey to see the concern on her familiar's face. Different than the looks he gave her--one of curiosity, pensiveness, or wry. Just as she can see his face, he can see the emotions skimming across hers--tired, worried and the remnants of fear she felt from her nightmare. His touch pushes those fragments of fear away, and placing his arm around her waist only serves to ground her in the waking world.

His question gives her pause, replaying the nightmare in her mind.]

Yes. [The answer is murmured, reminding herself that her friends were in the rooms next to hers. She didn't need to wake them up too because of something as stupid as a nightmare. One deep breath and another, her gaze drifting away from Khofar's to stare blankly at her lap.]

I was walking--or running, down a dirt road. There was lighting, thunder, but no rain. I heard Ben's voice calling out to me. [She shuddered at the memory. It brought her back to the last time she saw him, before their departure from the coven's safe house.] There was fire, and cries of pain. I heard a small child begging for their parents. [Which broke her heart in more ways than one.]

And there was a figure. They were hidden in shadow, or wearing a cloak. I couldn't tell, but they had their hand out to me, telling me I wasn't alone anymore.

[snaggleteeth]

[easy enough, to cast himself in the slate of characters described now. it would make for a fascinating puppet show on the side of the road. children and travelers stopping by to stare into the curtains, cheer at the intrigue of painted flames moving to and fro. it's him, at the end of the dream. the figure reaching to help her. intuition tells him so.

or maybe it's the mortal boys. he prefers not to think so, gliding his hand down her back, then up again, sweeping the tangled hair off her sweat-sticky neck. he thinks about ben. it's been long months since they left the coven's world between worlds, and he hasn't missed the man witch—except, maybe, for whispered stories of the man's disgruntlement after a certain catastrophic lunch date. that, admittedly, had been fun.

khofar isn't having fun now. a flick of his hand peels the blankets off her, freeing her panic-stoked body into the cool of the evening. to counterbalance it, his arm tightens around her, his nose touching to her temple. he does not have a heartbeat; hers pounds gently, through the slender keys of her ribs, against his chest. she reminds him he is whatever passes for alive. the future makes no promises, but the present is this.]

Before the end—you remember if you were running toward something, with Ben behind you? Or were you only running away?