Worth It
Written for the Not Ready for Primetime Fest, for Ede, who was interested in a happy ending for Bo and Dyson. My first epistolary fic - it just seemed more realistic for Dyson to express himself on paper, him being so gruff and all.
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Bo,
It isn't easy, but it's worth it.
You asked me to tell you how I feel about our relationship and I've thought about it for a long time, and that's what I have discovered. It isn't easy but it's worth it.
At the same time, I'm reminded of what Kenzi used to say: "If it's not fun, why do it?" I have thought about that many times this week, and I realize that that is also part of our relationship. We have fun together, my dear, so much fun. You bring a smile to this grouchy wolf's face when I least expect it.
I recall a time, forty or so years ago, when we were travelling though that Polish village. We had just captured a polevoi? a lesovyk? Life and death then, so unimportant now. Well, you got us caught up in the town's festival of light, life, and fertility. I'll admit that I've had my clothing ripped off like that before, but I'm fairly certain I had never been wrapped in flower garlands and nearly drowned in honey until that day. The image of your laughing face as golden liquid dripped from your hair – it still brings me happiness.
Of course, I also remember the young woman you met that day. Kasia with the beautiful brown eyes. You were involved with her for nearly two years. I missed you deeply for those months, though I understood your need for a human connection. I want you to know that I have never resented your bonds with your human companions. Young fae, especially those raised with humans, enjoy the intensity of brief human lives. I have indulged in that connection myself, with our brilliant and exuberant Kenzi, and others through the centuries.
I believe that you, my beloved, need to worry less about what I feel and more about your emotional balance. It has been many, many years since you lived within the confines of human society. You have freed yourself of many of their social rules and limiting moralities. Knowing that, I was shocked when you confessed that you have been troubled by the conflict between your desires and what you feel you owe me as my partner in life.
All these decades together, and you still surprise me. Most of the time they are pleasant surprises, such as my most recent birthday. Embarrassing at first, I'll admit, but quite pleasant. I'm still amazed that the Ash was a willing accomplice in your plan, but I digress. It is not only your ability to throw a 1,800 year old wolf a surprise party that amazes me. It is how, after more than two centuries as a succubus, you are still struggling with your true nature.
Perhaps I am not being entirely honest here. I cannot say I was unaware of your inner conflict. I recall the many years you spent accepting that it was necessary for you to feed on others. I hope that you recall me telling you how sexy it is. Still, I also remember that you have told me many times of the guilt you feel when you fall in love with another fae or a human.
But I have explained, just as many times, that I know that succubae are creatures of love and that your feelings for Betram – or Lola, or Jamie, or Lauren – are not unnatural or wrong. I know that you still love me, even though you are drawn to others. I know that you struggle with this, and I want to tell you one more time that I hope you come to accept it is the nature of fae relationships.
Our love lasts for centuries, but we live in the day to day.
Yes, you and I have both found lovers outside of our partnership over the centuries, and you have done so more often than I, given your nature. Still, I believe that as my love for you always brings me back into your orbit, your love for me directs you back into my path. It may be that we do not have the epic love of myth – which is likely for the best given your ability to upset destiny – but the feelings I hold for you are eternal and unwavering. I know you feel this way, too, for I see my love mirrored in your eyes when we meet after a long separation.
I know you remember the day you and I sat in the Dal and drew up "The Rules" over a dozen or so pints of Trick's best lager. I do, mostly clearly. We wrote up our expectations of each other as partners in this relationship. These included love, trust, honesty, respect, and warm toes on winter nights. It is because we have these bonds that I do not – cannot – resent your connections with other people.
It is because we respect each other that I know we will always talk about our troubles rather than hide them.
It is because we are honest with each other that we can tell each other all our truths, no matter how painful.
It is because I trust you that I know you would never intentionally hurt me.
And it is because I love you that I always return to you, as you always return to me.
Many years ago, a wise man told me that the secret to his marriage – which was entering its second millennium – was not that he and his wife had a mad passion for each other. It was not that they were soul-mates who would love each other for all time. It wasn't even that the sex was so good he couldn't give it up.
All of those things were true, he said, but the fact was that he and his wife had stayed together for all those years because they had never found anyone who could put up with them as well as they put up with each other. They were best friends, harshest critics, devoted lovers, and eternally connected.
My dearest Bo, is how I feel about you. I will always, always love you, no matter how many others share our beds, no matter how many years we spend apart in solitary pursuits. I am bonded to you forever more.
It isn't always easy, but it's worth it.
And that is why, my love, I can think of nothing on this earth I want more than to stand with you today, before our friends, and pledge myself to you in marriage.
I love you and always will.
I am yours, forever,
Dyson