A/N: Hello. This one's pretty short, but it's the preface to a pretty big time jump at the start of the next chapter that's going to drastically move the plot forward, and I just wanted to make sure I got a few things established before I did that. There's no Hawai'ian in this one (besides the stuff you should know by now) so no translations except that the title means 'dream'. Thank you to Denali Direwolf, Mari88, and soubifan700 for their reviews of chapter 12 and I hope that this one is equally as enjoyed.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to George R. R. Martin except for the angst-inducing party crasher who just made it back to Hawai'i.
"Sam?"
As she looked at the man before her, Sansa felt her knees go weak and she absently moved to sit on the edge of her bed, pushing down the nausea that was churning in her belly.
His expression shifted to one of concern and he moved toward her, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "Sansa, are you alright?"
She nodded weakly and managed a small smile, trying her hardest not to shrug away from his touch. "Of course. I just...I had no idea you would be back so soon. It's...it's a surprise is all."
He smiled nervously and shoved his hands into the pockets of his uniform. "A good surprise though, right?"
When Sansa hesitated, Myranda loudly cleared her throat and gave her friend an undisguised glare before crossing her arms and walking out, leaving the two of them alone. She watched her go before looking back to Sam and answering him. "Yes, Sam. I just...I wasn't ready for this." She laughed nervously and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm not sure if I look presentable enough."
At that, Sam's expression softened and he knelt in front of her, taking both of her hands in his. She tried to ignore the memories that his pose brought to mind. "Of course you do, Sansa," he murmured, squeezing her hands and smiling gently. "You're even more beautiful than I remembered." Leaning forward, he kissed her chastely and she blinked away the tears that she could feel pricking at her eyes. "I have something I need to say to you too," he continued. "Before you say anything to me."
She nodded silently, both unwilling and unable to respond.
"What I asked...before I left. About us." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a pretty diamond ring. Sansa felt her heart drop. "I bought this while I was back home, and I was ready to put it on your finger when I imagined this very moment, but as I was going through my therapy, I realized something. It wasn't fair of me to give you an ultimatum like that. I know that we really don't know each other very well, and despite that, I know I love you." She forced herself to meet his gaze, hating the sincerity that she saw in his eyes. "However, you've never said the same, and I realized that I don't resent that. If you want this ring, it's yours, as am I, but if you don't want to rush this, and you want to get to know each other first, then I understand that."
He quieted and watched her reaction carefully, smiling nervously when she merely stared at him blankly. "Sansa? Could you...say something? Please."
Swallowing, she sighed and then smiled weakly. "Sam, I..." She stopped, only to start again. "There have been a lot of things on my mind lately, your proposal among them. And you're right. In addition to everything else, it was just too much, too fast. I think that..." She carefully considered her wording before continuing. "If you truly want this, we need to take things slowly."
Though a part of her hoped that he would have picked up on her reluctance to continue any semblance of a relationship, it appeared that her hopes were in vain as he smiled widely and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Of course. We'll take it as slow as you need to, Sansa. No matter what, I won't give up."
"So...spill, girlie. What did Prince Charming say?" Randa picked up her left hand and pursed her lips when she found it bare. "And where is that ring I know he has?"
Sansa pulled away with an exasperated sigh and flopped back onto her mattress. "Don't you have someone to keep you occupied tonight? Tucker? The Admiral? Maybe a new one that you can pick up. Maybe all three."
When her friend's expression fell, she felt a twinge of guilt and she sighed again, running a hand across her face. "I'm sorry, Myranda. I didn't mean that. I just...I don't want to talk about this right now."
The older woman nodded and sat down beside Sansa, concern etched across her normally joyful features. "Sure. Are you alright, though, Sansa? I'm not talking about with Sam, but in general. I've been worried about you lately. You're going out alone whenever you're not working, coming back late in the morning, I can't even remember the last time you spent a night in the hospital. Is there something that you need to tell me? I won't push you anymore if you don't want, but...talk to me if you need to. Please."
Sansa nodded and smiled, taking one of her friend's hands and squeezing it. "Thank you, Myranda. Maybe I will, someday, but right now, I just need to work through everything on my own. And, when I'm out there..." She looked out the window toward the jungle, a real smile spreading across her face. "That's the only place where things make sense anymore. Out there, I know who I am, and what I want and...it's the one place I actually feel at peace." When I'm with him, it's almost as if this war isn't happening at all.
Though she didn't look as though she understood what Sansa was saying, Myranda nodded and smiled encouragingly before leaning down to give her a tight hug. "Then go on. Get out there, Sans. You've got a lot of thinking to do."
Against the advisement of her misunderstanding but well-wishing friend, Sansa stayed the night in the hospital. Spending it with Sandor would only further cloud her thoughts and add to the stress of her current situation.
After hours of tossing and turning, she finally drifted off to sleep, plagued with dreams that brought all of her worst fears to light.
"Sansa?"
"Sansa!"
When she turned, it was to see Sam and Sandor standing at opposite ends of the beach, both calling to her. All around, a storm was brewing, blowing sand in her eyes and obscuring her vision as her hair whipped around her face, as fiery as the raging top of the volcano on the horizon.
"Come to me, manu li'ili'i," she heard him beg, his voice broken as he fought to reach her side.
"Marry me, Sans," Sam pleaded from the other side. "We'll be so happy together."
Before her, unseen by both men stood a beautiful woman, fierce in her obvious rage, with eyes that burned and sparked as she glared at the young nurse.
"You have no future with him," the woman taunted. Though she spoke in Hawai'ian, Sansa found that she had no trouble understanding her words. "He belongs to me, and no amount of love can cool his anger. He will ruin you, murder your people, watch you die with laughter on his lips. He doesn't need you, he needs me. And if you continue to be with him, you will see the end of everything and everyone you've ever loved. There can be no other way."
Ignoring the threats of the mad goddess, she clutched at the necklace around her throat, holding onto it like an anchor as she crawled across the sand toward her lover. With every inch that she won from the tempest, his voice grew farther, and when she collapsed on the beach, broken and in tears, it was Pele's voice that carried toward her on the wind.
"There can be no other way."
Sansa woke before sunrise, panting and sweating as she struggled to catch her breath. Sitting up, she buried her face in her hands and cried silently, trying to allow the images from her dream to fade. When her fingers found the necklace against her throat, she held it tightly, reminding herself of the man who loved her.
When she had regained her senses, she rose quietly from her bed and made her way to the door, her bare feet silent on the floor as she walked out onto the beach, leaving the hospital behind.
It took her longer than usual to reach the section of beach that she and Sandor had claimed as their meeting spot. She struggled through the darkness of the jungle, the new moon doing nothing to aid her in her journey. When her feet found the sand again, she crumpled to her knees, allowing herself to cry openly in fear and anger.
What had she ever done to deserve this life? She had grown up privileged, the beautiful, highly sought after eldest daughter of a prominent family. And now, she was a nurse, treating the terrible wounds of a horrible war as she struggled to allow herself to love a man who was hardly even a man.
She had nearly cried herself to sleep again when she felt a light tickle on her cheek. Jerking back to full consciousness, she looked up to see a pretty red flower brushing against her face, its stem in a pair of familiar long fingers.
"It's the flower of an 'A' Ali'i," he explained with a smile. "I found one growing by Kilauea and it made me think of you. Wild, fiery, and beautiful." He bent down to place a kiss on her forehead before speaking again. "Why didn't you come see me? I was waiting for you." When she turned her face to his, he saw her tears and quickly gathered her in his arms. "What's wrong, manu li'ili'i?"
Her breath grew shaky under the assault of her cries and when they steadied again, she struggled to speak. "Sam came back."
She saw Sandor's jaw clench at the mention of his rival, but she held up her hand, displaying the lack of a ring. "I still couldn't say yes. He promised that we could take things slow, and I...I couldn't say anything. I couldn't tell him that I can't love him, because I'm in love with someone else." Her words soothed him somewhat and he quietly hushed her, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her.
When she spoke again, she took his hand, holding it tightly. "I...I had a dream. I was caught in a storm, and you and Sam were on either side of me, and...and I chose you. I tried to reach you, but then Pele came, and she told me that we could never be together. That if we were, everyone and everything that I loved would come to an end. What do you think it means?"
He shrugged casually, but looked troubled. Not wanting to know if there was any truth to the dream, she ignored his expression and pulled him down with a hand around his neck, dragging his lips to hers. He responded eagerly, as willing to forget the message of the dream as she was.
His mouth left a burning trail across her neck as he stoked the rising flames in her lower belly, his hands kneading the soft skin of her hips. She moaned softly into his mouth and captured his hands in hers, twining their fingers together and pressing them into the sand.
When she found herself pressed against the warm beach with his body heavy and warm above hers, she realized that no matter what, this what all she wanted. She had never felt safer than she did with him, and fate be damned, she would find a way to be with him.