Corvo knew where he was before he opened his eyes.

He'd let the idea slip once to Jessamine after, perhaps, a bit too much wine or a few too many intoxicating kisses. He simply wanted to be alone with her on a beach - safe, but alone. Perhaps on the white sands of Serkonos. And then the wildly romantic part and severely practical parts of him intertwined to add in the details. The bay would have to be walled-in, of course, and the beach a private one at the back of a castle or fortress. A blanket, perhaps, if not a small pavilion tent to shield them from the sun. Or perhaps an entire bed.

So he was not surprised when he dragged his eyes open and saw white linen sheets and whispy curtains of the canopy bed framing the seashore in the distance (which in turn was enclosed by arms of walls stretching into the sea, enclosing the bay). It was a distinctly unreal landscape - the sky was tinged indigo, and he could tell that eventually the sea simply stopped, seawater surely gushing down into the vast expanse of the Void. The simulacrum was passable enough for him to be kept from immediate panic. The Outsider was laughing at him, he was sure of it. But perhaps just for this moment there was the quiet rolling in and out of the waves, the murmur of water against the sand, and -

A gentle hand on his shoulder?

It was instinct that made him flinch and turn, bracing himself and poising for a counter-attack. He expected the Outsider's slim face and black eyes, and instead he found something far more familiar. Just familiar enough to panic.

"Who -" Sea breeze hitting his shoulders, making him flinch up and scramble to cover himself in an almost maidenly way by grabbing the covers - "who are you -"

"Exactly who I seem to be. I'm not… I'm not a lie or a trick, Corvo, whatever else you think the Outsider has dreamed up." And Jessamine smiled sadly at him, reaching out to him, palms-up. "If I was, I wouldn't be here to beg you to fight when the time comes so that you can go back to Emily."

His breath caught in his throat as he waited for something to happen. For the Outsider to come and mock him, perhaps, or for this vision of Jessamine to shatter like glass or begin weeping blood. But instead she just continued to smile sadly, dark eyes full of soft concern as she reached out to pet his cheek. Her hand wasn't warm. Not exactly. Warm wasn't a concept that really made it into the Void, anyway. But there was a tingle, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he knew on some innate level that she was real. Not a vision or a deception.

It was suddenly hard to breathe. He always felt, on some level, boorish and clumsy in comparison to her petite grace. Now more so than ever. There were so many things he had meant to say to her but now they all stuck in his throat, tangling in his teeth and snagging on his lips. He could only speak when the first sob tore through him, like a fishing hook ripping through the lips of a river bass.

So he clung to her and sobbed and apologized. He didn't know for how long. Time had a loose relationship with the Void at best. Maybe it was minutes, or hours, or days, he couldn't be sure. But she let him beg for her forgiveness, even after she had given it freely to him. He clung to her like a shipwrecked man, slowly sinking onto her shore with tired limbs that melted into her sands. The sadness had been exhausting him. There had been no time to properly mourn, or at least not mourn so deeply.

Eventually, she shifted around, her long dark hair undone from its usual bun and sweeping down to kiss the small of her back. He offered no resistance as she took his hand, guiding his arm up to kiss gently at his palm, making her way up to his shoulder - stopping at every new burn-mark that had been given to him.

Corvo's mouth hung open in confusion, but each kiss was so gentle that her meaning was absolutely clear. She loved him still, despite all that had happened. It was, to his mind, miracle enough that he forgot to sob. She silently beckoned him closer, and he obeyed, sliding into her lap and hooking his hands around her shoulders. Perhaps she said something - soft, murmured words of reassurance that Corvo had been too proud to consider needing before now. Each trembling breath that passed from his lips was a little quicker, now. Tiny, desperate pants, hot breath hitting her neck. And her hands moved down and down again, delicately tracing the lines of muscles in his back, then at his hips, ever-closer -

He tensed, clutching to her more firmly now, something between terror and shame. Although Corvo didn't lift his head to see, he could feel the muscles tensing ever-so-slightly in her neck as she frowned. Unhappy with the changes the torture had given him, perhaps. He braced himself for rejection, curling his head in closer to her, trying to draw away preemptively as if more willing to hurt himself than to be hurt by her. And her fingers probed, surely noticing all the new scars and burns, and he waited, breath tense, until finally she leaned in to nose away some of the hair falling into his face.

She didn't need to use words. She never really had. Jessamine always excelled at telling Corvo all he needed to know with a pointed look or a quirk of an eyebrow, and he had answered in turn. Silence was a language all their own, and she spoke it to him now. No words, just a kiss on the forehead. Then a beckoning push, cheek-to-cheek, until he raised his head enough for her to kiss him properly. Long and slow, hot and wet. And her deft fingers caressed him, though he only seemed to truly relax when he was sure in the knowledge that here, in the Void, all of his new scars did not ache the way they did in reality. Soon enough his hands were running along her back as she kissed at his neck with gentle ferocity, and his chest was heaving in proper panting breaths.

He had missed her. He had missed all of her. Every thrust seemed to so powerful that it rattled the bed and pressed the breath out of both of them. But it was as immutable and perfect as each wave hitting the nearby cliffs. Her hand wove into his hair, and he leaned into her touch, and she smiled at him - not just with her lips, but with her eyes - in a way that let him know he was truly forgiven for failing so miserably in his duties.

They loved each other, as sure and steady as the tides, and that was enough.

The ocean water had risen to lap at the sides of the bed by the time they settled into clinging to one another, letting the sweat dry on their skin even as they held each other close. And Jessamine smiled crookedly as she teased a bit of hair out of Corvo's face, tucking it behind his ear, and he nuzzled a little closer to her. Blinding heat and passion were cooling back into sweet melancholy once more.

"I promise, I won't leave Emily alone."

"I know you won't, Corvo." Her hand rested on his cheek. "When the time comes, you'll fight. But for right now…" She guided him a little closer. "There's no shame in resting."

And he believed her, and was content to listen to her heartbeat and the waves echoing in the bay.