~Summary~
Xayah reminisces about what it means to be strong, and that thing's aren't always onesided.
Dreams
Rakan was strong for her. He was utterly careless, his freely wandering mind a menace, his view of the world so frustratingly naive and childish. That's at least what she had thought when they had met many, many years ago. In another lifetime she had been alone against the world, against the slaughter of her race, against the destruction of Ionia's magic. But then there came he, all sunshine and smiles, a charming entertainer, a show, and he had stolen her breath away - although she would never tell him that, cause he would not ever let it go.
Slowly and steadily his warmth had crept into her body; when she turned around there was someone behind her, guarding her back, and when she attacked, he was at her side, always, dancing and jumping and swirling around. When she was angry or sad his voice was the only thing that got through the thick walls she built, and oftentimes it frightened her that he knew her so well, that she depended so much on him.
It had taken much time for her to find out that, in fact, not all that glitters was gold. And when realization finally hit her, it had been like her clouded mind could suddenly see what had been hidden behind a veil before, so obvious and at the same time not. Rakan, beautiful and charming, had his own demons to fight. His flashy appearance and loud behavior made sure that no one could look behind this masquerade of happiness, that no one even thought of doing so. But when it was dark outside and the sun vanished from their view, leaving only the gloomy night behind, his dreams came. A mess of darkness that caught him, interwoven strings and tendrils that he could not escape from, no matter what. His dreams were a show of fear and horror, so dark that he would not even dare to tell her sometimes. Being trapped in a sea of ice, being burned to ashes, dreams of falling and drowning and fleeing and never, ever reaching safety, or saving his loved ones. It was nightmare after nightmare that he lived through in his states of sleep, a remembrance of fears old and new, and sometimes even memories coming alive again.
Xayah still knew what it had been like in the beginning of their journey. At first, she had ignored his fitful dreams, thinking nothing important of them than just the average nightmare she had too from time to time. After some time it became annoying, and every twitch of his body, every rustling of his sleeping bag fuelled her rage, kindling the furious fire within her. To lead a rebellion was no simple task, she needed a clear mind and especially she needed to. be. awake. So she had screamed at him, telling him to leave her alone, because she wanted to get a full night's sleep for once. (To this day Xayah told herself she didn't look at him when telling him that, when in fact she had seen every single emotion shifting over his pale face: sleepiness, hurt, loneliness, and a deep sadness that still haunted her dreams sometimes.)
They were alone when it happened the next time, which, in fact, was the very next day. Both of them had left their ever expanding group of Vastaya rebels behind to travel further south, and at that time Xayah hadn't really been surprised when Rakan followed her suitly after she had proclaimed her new destination in front of the others. He had done so since their first meeting, and although she still did not know it it was a good idea, they were together now. A pair. She had a boyfriend, and of course it had to be the quirkiest - and, to be honest, the most beautiful - of them all.
It was in the deep of the night that she had awoken, again. The source of her waking was clear as day, and rolling her eyes she sat up in their tent and turned around to face him. Rakan's face was unbelievingly innocent in his sleep, but he looked troubled and a deep frown marred his forehead. A quiet whimper left his pressed-together lips, the sound that had originally woken her up, and despite the warm summer night he shuddered. Rakan was never cold.
That was the first night that she had worried about him - or at least the first night she had admitted her worries to herself. Why did he have these dreams all the time? What exactly did he dream of? What was so horrible that it left a grown-up man (well, behavior-wise more or less) whimpering every night?
She had always been bad with body contact, and even though they slept together now it felt like a first every evening, and always she needed some time to get accustomed to the sensation of him laying behind her, or even beside her, real close. But when she watched him that night, being tormented in the dark, she couldn't help but move closer, to overcome her own hesitations and hug him softly. Her head pressed against his warm chest, and she could hear his heart beating steadily but way too fast, her arm snaking around his naked torso awkwardly.
Rakan's reaction was instant. His arms, which he kept normally to himself to not make her feel trapped, suddenly hugged her like a lifeguard, and the noise he made broke her heart and warmed it at the same time. There was such relief in his raw voice, and she felt him trembling while he held her strongly, his nose ruffling into her hair and breathing in almost frantically. While his left arm hugged her close to him, he lifted himself a bit up with his right, only to snake it under her head so that she lay comfortably against him. It was typical of him, she thought with a soft smile, that even now he wanted to ensure that she was cozy, when, in fact, she wanted him to be so.
"Thanks ...", he had whispered to her that night, half in his sleep and finally calm again. With wide eyes Xayah watched him, daring not even to breathe, until she eventually relaxed and gave in to the warm feeling of being hugged, of being close to him. Slowly she pressed closer, her nose against his muscular chest, breathing in his rich and masculine scent she loved so much, and finally she found sleep too.
The next morning Rakan had been the happiest she had ever seen him, apart from when she had admitted her feelings to him, and gazing at him with such a sweet smile upon his lips had made her happy too. Since then she had slept safe in his arms, and although his nightmares didn't totally stop he had nights when he didn't dream at all, and the bad dreams kept becoming less and less.
Rakan was strong for her, he was always at her side, supporting her, making her see the sun when all she could see was the rainy clouds that cast shadows upon the land. But she was also strong for him, soothing him softly in the wake of a nightmare with sweet nothings reserved only for his ears in the quiet of the night, hugging him close to her and make him feel safe and loved.
Another oneshot that I thought about these last days. I hope the short story is to your overall liking! Please leave a review if you'd like to share your opinion, or maybe suggestions for another short story :)