Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Written: 2012. Rewritten: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia

Town of Nest Hardings,

Munch Territory,

Thropp Household,

Day Three

She had fought Tibbett about going back into the house. Just because she was regaining the white's language did not mean she was suddenly white again. It did not mean she could forget her tribe, her husband, the children she had birthed. And he had tried to make her listen, tried to get her to understand. Finally, reaching up to take her face in his hands, so that she had no choice but to look at him.

It is a long process, returning to the whites, he'd told her softly. Long, and hard, and painful, for it eats at your soul, the longer you are away from the tribe. I know, I have been away from our tribe for many moons now, and though I am desperate to go back, I know I cannot return. They will never accept an Arjiki who walks within the white's world. Not fully. But you, princess, you can return. You have five days left. Five days. If they do not keep to their promise, you can enact yours.

She had argued with him, saying that she didn't know how to contact Fiyero, but he'd stopped her, resting a finger against her lips. A moment had passed between the pair, for they were twins in their shared experience, and then, gently, he'd leaned over, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Sogni."

She'd met his gaze, tears in her own. What he was suggesting was uncommon within the tribe- for only the shaman and those trained, walked between the worlds- her husband, being one of them, having learned it as a child, from the shaman. And she knew that fires and abundant, sweet-smelling herbs were not always needed to perform such rituals; that it was not herbs and chants that made the ability to walk between worlds strong, but the desire.

And her desire to return home was stronger than anyone truly knew.

Darkness draped about the world like a curtain; the early hours of the her third day at the Thropp house would not dawn for several hours, for it was mere minutes past midnight-

She curled up beneath the blankets, tears drying on her cheeks as she put every painful beat of her heart into the desire to see her husband, to be back with her tribe. There was no moon to comfort her tonight as she drifted off to sleep; she could hear the soft crackling of a bonfire in the distance, and followed the noise, her feet bare and soft as she made her way towards the camp.

The sight of it in the distance, the comforting smell of smoke wafting towards her, tugged harder at her desire to return, and she slowly, cautiously, picked her way through the woods, inching closer and closer to it. She could hear the soft rush of water not far away, for she followed the river-

Follow the river. It will lead you home.

Mr. Thropp's words pounded in her head, and she shook them away; she wanted no reminder of the Thropps or their family, not when she was getting so close to hers, even if it was only in the dream world. One hand reached down to tug at the collar of the nightgown, only to feel familiar buckskin beneath her fingers. Evidently, her desire rid her of every mention of the white's world within the realm she now walked in. A soft sigh escaped her throat. Oh, how she missed the softness of buckskin- the younger girl still refused to give back her buckskin dress and moccasins.

She continued through the woods, stopping only briefly at the sound of something behind her before continuing on. Eventually, though, the feeling that she was being followed got to be too much, and she turned, letting out a soft gasp as she found herself face-to-face with her husband. "Yero."

"Fabala?"

They stood mere feet apart, studying each other in silence. Though absolutely her husband, there was one detail that puzzled her- a singular diamond in the center of his forehead. She knew her husband's diamonds were upon his chest, the starburst she loved to run her fingers over so. There was no diamonds anywhere else on him, so this new one puzzled her. Had he received it after she'd been taken? Was it meant for mourning? Or revenge? But as her gaze roved over him, those questions quickly left her mind, for something else puzzled her.

He was dressed similarly to the Chief, though for what reason, she didn't know. And he appeared to be slightly older than his nearly twenty-two moons. Not much, but was clear that something had aged her beloved husband prematurely; whether it was her abduction or something else, she couldn't be sure. "Yero-"

But he quickly cut her off, closing the distance between them and gathering her in his arms, his mouth finding hers and taking possession of it. A moment passed, before she melted into the kiss, sliding her arms around his neck and deepening it. He tasted of fresh picked berries, the fires of their tent, dried meat, the wind that sang through the grasslands, and something so distinctly her husband she knew but couldn't name; her eyes closed, and she melted even further into the kiss. Never breaking the kiss, he gathered her up, carrying her towards the riverbed, before lying her down among the soft grasses at the bank. Neither spoke a word as they undressed, only breaking the kiss long enough to remove clothing before returning.

Hands moved over skin, mouths parted softly only to reconnect, fingers slid together, and eventually, he slid within her; she broke the kiss, crying out in shock, for she had not known that such an act could take place when one walked between worlds. After readjusting to it, they shifted so that she was nestled atop, her long black hair tumbling down around them, her body on full view for her husbands. His hands, with those beautiful slender fingers she loved so, roamed freely up her body, stopping briefly to caress her womb, where their children had each grown, before moving up to cradle her breasts and stroke the buds that hardened at his touch. His gaze met hers, and she struggled to make out what he was saying, before a firm, sharp tugging within her womb ripped her from between the worlds, jolting her awake with a gasp.

"Tornare da me, Fabala. Tornare a noi. Per noi, per il bambino."

She wrapped her arms around herself, choking on a soft sob as it slowly began to dawn on her that the world she'd walked within hadn't been the present, but a very brief, very real, glimpse of a future. One she was not sure she would ever get to experience.