In a Soft Lullaby

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“...We will trust in Light, and be assured that the Pillars will keep us safe. Preparations for the Day of Light will go ahead, and may Reyahn bless us all as we trust....”

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One week.

They had passed a year since Dragon’s Crown by one week.

Somehow Seih expected something when he awoke, as he went about his day—as the water hissed off his skin under the pressurised spigot in his bathroom, sipping a cup of rich-red ceffludge at the table, or walking down the street. And yet the birds still sang, the sun still warming his skin; the Unity still fighting desperately against the Darkness marching steadily down through Arathnea’s lands.

“You look hopelessly bored.”

His gaze twitched up from staring through his office’s desk and the sheets of filework in front of him. Brei’s far more pleasant face greeted him, a small smile on her lips as she stepped into the room, her eyes flitting to the ever-growing stacks he’d been neglecting. “And buried.”

He tried to summon a returning smile, but it morphed into a long sigh instead as he leaned back, arching his spine against the seat with an unpleasant series of pops. “Yes to both.”

“Well, at least you’re back in the Ripple. Again. And not kicked out of everything entirely. It’d be a shame to end up homeless right before the end of the world.” She peeled up one bound form, frowning at it. “Though, well, you could always live with me....”

“That sounds scandalous.” He yawned, ending in a grimace. “It’s not like I can do much, though. They’ve threatened to toss me out permanently if I say a word. I’m having to rely on Firalk instead— we’re trying to push through an initiative to gather all combat-impressed Divinations into a force for Firemount, just in case. As a reinforced guard.”

“Mm.” She stared at him for an uncomfortably long, scrutinising moment, a slight furrow forming between her eyebrows as she squinted. He began to raise an eyebrow— “You look exhausted.”

He blinked. Opened his mouth... and couldn’t really find an answer to that.

“Alright. I—” She rolled up her sleeves, hustling around the room to seize more module-chairs to fit on either side of his— “am fixing this. Put down those armrests.”

Bemused, half-captivated by the serious, slight pout to her lips as she flicked a loose strand of hair over her shoulder and assembled the entire thing in the span of a minute, he did as he was told. There were worse ways to have his work interrupted than by Brei deciding to swoop in and turn it all upside-down....

She flopped onto the newly-constructed couch, scooting in next to him. Not quite knowing what she intended, he moved to put an arm over her shoulders and was poked back, shuffled along with a fierce scowl that had him fighting desperately to suppress a smile. “No, back. Move over.”

“Alright, alright. I’m a little lost here, though—”

It was only his complete lack of fighting reflexes that saved him from smacking into anything when she pulled him over into her lap with a slightly-evil laugh. “I am going to make you take a break.”

He opened his mouth to protest, not bothering to resist but mildly put-out— until her hand traced around his soulbind crown and stroked down across his forehead, pressing against his lips. From here, her smirk—framed by dark locks backlit by the sun streaming through the window, a slight flush to her cheeks from the exertion of pushing furniture around—was enough to make him reconsider any protests he’d ever attempted to come up with. With a sigh he could only faintly claim as exasperation, he smiled back, just a tinge of wistfulness creeping in. “You really want me to stay here?”

She poked her tongue out. It was honestly adorable. “Yes, because you need to rest, and I can see from that look on your oh-so-handsome face that you would not be doing any resting if I set you free.”

“You’re a hard mistress.” Seducing him and bringing him down, only to keep him captive.... A cruel fate.

He amended that thought as she ran teasing fingers through his hair. It could be worse. Long, smooth strokes raking across his scalp to tingle along his spine, he found his eyelids fluttering, barely catching her reaching over to flip through the sheets on his desk, her hum vibrating faintly against his ear.

He shut his eyes, twitching a half-smile. “Are you doing this just to spy on my filework?”

“Shush, I’m peeking.” She scrubbed lightly at the back of his skull. “I didn’t think you had so much of this to do. Payment contracts for road repairs, expansion on a gondolier, more repairs....”

“Mm, ‘s a lo’.” Couldn’t really come up with a more intelligent response, idly listening to the rustle punctuating each mention. “Been building up for a while.”

“No wonder you’re exhausted. I’m dying just looking at this.”

“Mmm.”

She laughed softly, the sound fluttering in his ears like the soft beat of a bird’s wings. “So you don’t mind if I stamp off your insignia on some of these?”

“Mm.” He tried to put a note of disapproval in the sound. It was hard when the world was beginning to float away on the feather-light touch of slim fingers.

“I’ll take that as a yes....”

He made an attempt to protest, but the sound never slipped past his lips.

&&&

Brei smiled down at Seih’s much more peaceful face, his breaths soft and even, absolutely conked-out. Drawing a gentle finger along the line of his jaw, faint hints of patchy stubble prickling beneath his skin, she idly mused that he must’ve really been exhausted to drop off like that.

Returning to absently stroking his hair, she rifled through the forms he’d been reading and had to sign, all of it likely formulated by a Divination and printed by construct. I’m not sure if we should pay them or throttle them for creating this sort of thing.... The number-work was the sort of thing he would still have to fill in, but there was no reason she couldn’t put the stamp on it, or sign off a few dates for the record-keeping side of things and duplicate them in the open ledger he had off to the side.

I don’t see why he doesn’t just get Voice to do all of this. She made a face as she carefully pressed the stamp into the ink pad and got to work. Archaic rules. It wasn’t like anyone cared about personal touches.

The minutes ticked by as she plundered his filework, the clock set against the wall click-clacking softly to itself, Seih sleeping peacefully and obliviously. Well, mostly. A faint twitch and a hitch in his regular breaths caught her attention as she leaned over slightly to pull down another sheet, and she paused, hoping she hadn’t woken him up.

When he seemed to settle again, she pulled back with sheet in hand, ready to pick up the stamp and—

“Hhah—!” With an abrupt jerk, Seih shot up, and she yelped, flinching back just as his head slammed into the desk hard enough to send the cylindrical stamp clattering off the edge.

“Fallen Lights—” She reached for him as he let out a ragged gasp of pain, pressing one hand against his head, the other clutching the edge of the desk to keep him half-upright. And frowned as he twitched back, blinking and panting. A nightmare?

“Seih?” She lowered her voice, keeping it gentle and soothing. For as long as she’d known him, Seih didn’t have nightmares, or even dreams, really. “Are you okay?”

It took a moment, but his eyes focused on her face, a shudder visibly running across his shoulders. “B-Brei?”

She smiled at him, watching his face carefully for signs of disorientation. He seemed to be putting the pieces together well, but she didn’t want to end up smacked if she moved wrong. “It’s just me. That looked like a bad bump. You’ll probably grow an egg there— do you think I can take a look?”

He frowned and winced slightly, hesitating, but didn’t flinch again when she reached out slowly and drew him back towards her lap, gently prising his hand away to take a look. Yes, that would definitely need a poultice.

She gently soothed at it with her fingers, eyeing him as he pressed the back of his hand across his eyes, still breathing a bit harshly. “...You never told me you had nightmares. And I would hope this isn’t a first, because then I’ll be having words with your subconscious about what it thinks of my ministrations.”

A weak chuckle answered her, turning into a long, slightly shuddering sigh. “It’s not you. I’ve had them for a while.”

She frowned harder, narrowing her eyes. “Again, you didn’t tell me. Honestly, I never took you for the type, either—”

“A year,” his quiet voice cut her off with her mouth open. “I never had them until a year ago.”

...A year? Slowly, she managed to close it again, wishing she could see more than his mouth. “Ever since the prophecy...?”

“The day of the prophecy. Not long before the Scale spoke. I’ve had them ever since.”

This... was starting to look... weird, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling slightly as she pressed one gentle hand over the already-forming lump just behind his SB crown. “What... kind of dreams?”

He was silent for a moment. “I... they vary. This one... there was a crowd, like one of Jondice’s garden parties, and I was trying to follow a white wrulf, with antlers. I could never seem to reach it.”

“And then...?” She prompted when he fell silent.

He swallowed, his throat bobbing. “A shadow fell over everything, and it disappeared. Then people became these... shadows, and one of them caught me. I tried to run, it caught me, and the last thing I felt was its teeth closing around my neck.”

There was a slight tremble in his fingers as he rubbed at his throat, one she couldn’t help noticing distantly. A rasping laugh left him as he curled his other hand, one blue eye blinking up at her, tight lines around its edges he didn’t manage to erase with a smile. “Sounds like a horror story, doesn’t it?”

There was no way in Darkness’ depths she was finding a response to that anytime soon. “...I still have some herbal remedies lying around that could help you sleep better. They’re just simple recipes, but they used to help me.”

He blinked, a genuine softness easing the tightness in his face. “I’d try them.”

She tried a smile, herself. “I recorded them in Soulspace, just in case. I’ll make one you can drink tonight— you need a poultice on that lump, anyway.”

Forcing him off the couch, she did her best to put on a cheerful face, internally feeling a chill creeping underneath her skin that she couldn’t seem to shake.

I think...

My man may have prophetic dreams.