D is for Dark.

AU. No Scarlet Guard, no rebellion, no betrayal. Mare and Maven's wedding night. Warning: some language.

Maven collapses against the sheets, his chest, slicked with sweat, heaving. It had been nearly two and a half hours since the door to their new chambers had slammed shut, and this is the first time he's been able to catch his breath.

"That was incredible," Mare says next to him, her breathing coming in hard gasps, "I thought the sex was amazing before, but you've actually managed to outdo yourself."

He laughs quietly, wrapping arm around her waist and tugging her close, "You weren't too bad yourself."

She falls quiet then, probably already drifting off to sleep. The clock next to their bedside tells him that it's almost three in the morning, but he's never felt more awake in his entire life.

"You're my wife." He says in a hushed, almost revered tone, like he can scarcely believe it. Somehow, he'd managed to marry this beautiful, brilliant, captivating human being. He gets to be with her for the rest of his life. It all still feels like a dream.

"And you're my husband." Her voice is sleepy and amused. "I mean, that was what the whole ceremony today was about, wasn't it?"

"I don't know," he brings his mouth close to her ear, "I could barely register what was going on with you in that dress."

Her laugh is as warm as the rest of her. He splays his hand across her ribs, tangling their legs together. He could spend the rest of his life in this bed with her, no complaints.

"It's late," she says after a while, shifting her head from where she's using his arm as a makeshift pillow to look at him, "We should get some sleep if we want to make it to the breakfast reception on time. The High Houses hate me enough already. The last thing we need is to be late."

"Screw the High Houses," he mumbles against her neck, "All I want is you."

"Too bad your mother doesn't share those sentiments," she says dryly, gently moving his hand from her skin so she can sit up to turn off the light. As her fingers close around the lamp switch, his entire body coils tight, muscles clenches. She notices his sudden shift in attitude immediately, and within minutes she's hovering above him, her beautiful face etched with worry.

"Maven?"

It still amazes him; the way she can touch his soul with just one look. He's absolutely sure that his entire existence was created for her. There is no other woman in the world with whom he belongs so completely.

"I'm scared of the dark."

He is twenty-years old and nursing the same aversion as a toddler. He feels like an idiot, but Mare's soft hands stroking along his cheek keeps him from retreating to that dark place of shame and self-hatred.

"So was I," she admits, shrugging her bare shoulders, "Until I was about five years old, I couldn't even sleep alone. I used a nightlight, this really crappy one I had to steal from the marketplace, until I was fourteen."

"But I'll be twenty-one in three months," he says unhappily, "And I still can't manage to sleep without a lamp on."

She says nothing, but her fingers trace his jawbone and his lips, prompting him to continue. Swallowing hard, he indulges her. Confiding in Mare has never been difficult; when it comes to her, everything is as easy as breathing.

"When I was younger, I used to have nightmares about a creature living under my bed. It was the size of an infant, covered in black scales. It had bright red eyes and huge fangs, with claws the length of my arms. I used to dream of those claws grabbing my ankles and dragging me under the bed when the lights went out. Mother used to wake up to me screaming like bloody murder. Eventually, she started keeping the lamp on or leaving my door open at night." He fiddles with a loose thread on the blanket, avoiding her eyes, "And then, when I was four, my monster took on a different form."

Her body tenses, as though she can sense where his story is going. It makes sense; most of his inner torment has one source.

"I was almost five, and Cal was eight. Mother was supposed to come with us, but she was recovering from an illness so she decided to spend another night at Whitefire and join us in Summerton the following day. I begged to stay with her, but he wouldn't let me. He thought I was too attached to her. I needed to toughen up, he said." At least his father had cared back then. "We didn't reach the palace until it was late. Cal had fallen asleep on the way and he carried him upstairs and put him to bed. I was sleepy as well, and one of the servants helped me up the stairs into bed. I was just beginning to drift off when my door opened and he poked his head inside. It was disgusting, Mare. He smelled like a liquor cabinet had toppled over onto him."

She presses her lips to his shoulder, her body trembling from anger. Her hate for his father still shocked him at times; no one had ever defended him before.

"He sneered when he saw the light on beside my bed. He could barely stand he was so drunk. He asked why the lamp was on. He used to terrify me when he was drunk, so I just blurted out the truth. Do you know what he did, Mare? He fucking laughed. He'd never been so mean before, not even to Mother. When he came over to the bed, I thought he might strike me. Instead, he unplugged the lamp, tucked it under his arm, and walked right out the door. In the doorway, he turned around and said, 'Calore men need to be strong. You're nothing but a sniveling coward.' After that, he slammed the door and I was left in complete darkness. I was shaking so badly that I couldn't even get up and turn on the closet light. I kept picturing talons digging into my ankles as I was dragged under the bed. I didn't sleep a wink the entire night. At some point, I wet my pants from fear."

His voice trembles, "He didn't remember a damn thing the next morning. But I never got over my fear."

Mare's voice is shaky, "I hate him so much for the way he treated you, Maven. No child deserves what he did to you." She runs a hand over his bare chest, "But I want you to know that there's nothing to fear in the darkness now that you have me. I won't let anything take you from me, Maven. If some scaly, fanged monster wants to come and get you, well, he's going to have the fight of his life on his hands."

He laughs weakly, but presses a fierce kiss to her forehead.

He doesn't need a lamp when she is here to light up the darkness.

This one's a little bit of fluff and heavy/dark together. Reviews welcome. Enjoy!