Golden
Here is the end of the story of how Rhen Pendragon and Dameon Maurva fell in love, which is really the beginning of their story, and one day I will write a whole other collection for that and you will see what I mean, but for now I hope you've enjoyed these pieces so far, and that you enjoy this last hurrah before the start of everything.
Mostly introspective, lots of fluff. The plot part begin towards the end of their wedding day:)
She was going to hate Thais, she knew it. She had seen the emptiness in the eyes of all the people, she had felt it settling heavily in her heart. She had lost her mother in this city, she had lost everything here. Thais was a place of endings.
But today—
Today she remembered the beginning.
He was blindingly brilliant, the first time she saw him. She hadn't been able to see where her feet were going, and she'd tripped up the stairs. He had caught her, and since then she had fallen for him every time.
He had been sad, in those days. She remembered, it had been the second thing about him that struck her. His perpetual pout, and the way his eyes refused to meet hers— until they did, and then he'd smiled.
She knew now he had been in a deep darkness, the kind that came from sorrow, and hopelessness, the kind that came from fighting and struggling against all the world— oh, how well she knew that darkness, how well she knew the despair that came with it. But still he had smiled for her. How was that possible?
And now he was holding her close, so close, so close she could hardly remember what empty space felt like, and so close she could see the gold in his brown eyes, which met hers freely now— which met hers, and filled with tears.
"Dameon," she murmured into his collarbone— she couldn't reach any higher, even standing on the tips of her toes. "You're crying again. What's wrong?"
He cried so easily today. All she had done was look at him and now he was crying, and if she wasn't careful she would cry too, and then they would both be just one big teary mess.
One— they were together now, despite everything. In a way he really had fought the fates for her. He stood between her and the lonesome destiny she'd feared was hers like a stone wall. Except he was soft and warm and nothing like a stone, unless the rocks could weep now, and wept often.
He laughed at her question— or sobbed. "I'm so happy, Rhen. I'm so happy, I don't know what to do with it all."
She smiled— after everything, she smiled, she looked up at him and thought of the way the light had spilled over the tops of the mountains every morning when she was a small child, and how it swept away every shadow after even the longest winter nights, and how the spring flowers always opened their faces to the world again as it spread over them.
The people of Thais— their eyes were filled with joy now. And Pa was there, smiling and laughing with friends he hadn't seen since she was born, and Ma was there and her eyes were full of twinkling. And Rhen— was filled too.
She had expected to be tired at the end of it, but instead she felt light and peaceful and she was only sleepy. Dameon gathered her up in his arms, and this time he carried her up the stairs. His heart beat out a careful rhythm under her ear, and she could feel it in her chest like she had two hearts, hers and his.
Two— there were two of them now, he promised with his dark eyes that she wouldn't face the future alone.
"Rhen," he said gently, his breath rustling her hair, "why are you trembling, my love?"
She was trembling, she realized, and it was because—
After everything—
After all of it—
"I... I feel so…." She shook her head, and pressed her ear closer to his chest so his heartbeat enveloped her. "Dameon, what is the opposite of solitude?"
He was quiet for a moment, the sort of quiet that meant he was taking her seriously, and then he said softly, certainly, "A friend."
And that was why, after everything. She had lost her whole world and then she had found him and he planted hope in her bones again.
He carried her to Alicia's room— her room, now. He carried her past the bookshelves Alicia had kept— The Stoneheart Saga, Adventures of Ajo, The Art of the Sword— Alicia had loved danger and excitement and daring deeds.
She had also loved soft things, simple things, like wildflowers— Rhen knew, because of the little vase sitting on the nightstand. It was filled with the dried stems of what might have been daisies and maybe heather. It was hard to tell now, the flowers had been dead so long.
But Rhen knew about flowers; they would bloom again when spring came. And spring would come, at last, after nearly two decades of desolation.
Rhen loved a soft thing, too. A gentle spring with golden eyes and flower petal lips— she was becoming a poet, and a bad one. It was time to sleep.
Dameon laid her carefully on the bed. She held his neck a moment longer, keeping his ear near her mouth, and whispered, "Dameon, let's— let's fill the vase with fresh flowers tomorrow."
"The vase?" he repeated, his eyebrows drawn together so that perplexed little line appeared between them. She pulled him close and kissed it.
"That vase," she mumbled, pointing vaguely in its direction. Then, "What flowers do you like?"
He was quiet again, and then he said slowly, "I like… lilacs."
"Which lilacs?"
He smiled a little and looked down. "The purple ones, like your eyes."
She giggled, which was really the stupidest sound but now he had the biggest loveliest smile and he raised his dark eyes to look at her.
"What's your favorite flower?" he asked.
She pretended to think about it. "My favorite flower is... tulips."
"Which tulips?"
She grinned. "Yours."
And she didn't remember falling asleep after that. She was used to chaos, she was born into war, but it seemed like she had just floated from laughter to peace, and then—
She was waking into a soft sunlit world, dawn streamed through the window and painted everything a gentle gold. Dameon breathed easily beside her, dark eyelashes resting on his cheeks. He would wake up soon and they would go downstairs and run a kingdom together, and Rhen—
She still wasn't tired and she wasn't scared. This was only the beginning, Thais was only the beginning, there were infinite golden adventures ahead of her.
And before everything, there was Dameon, and the way his dark eyes fluttered open and his arms reached for her, and how when she wondered how much love her heart could hold before it broke, his whispered back, infinity. And then she didn't know who had started crying first but she would blame him, either way—
And the flowers, they grew in the golden spring.
