Cianann was walking through Lion’s Arch, his scepter on his back, calming his nerves. He had just finished retrieving some information for the Priory, and thought he could have a break. While he was walking through the mostly wooden town, he was suddenly hugged from behind by someone. Without thinking, he identified it as Sieran, and laughed, smiling. When her arms had released him, he turned around to face her and stared into a dark abyss - her face appeared to have been carved out completely, as wounds and sap littered her body. He hurriedly backed up, before hearing a metal clink. He turned around to see who he had backed into this time, and realized that the face he was looking at was the one of his Risen comrade, Apatia. Terror filled him again, but as he ran away, he tripped, falling into the abyss, eventually reaching a floor. Voices called out to him, and he looked up, seeing horribly overgrown Sylvari surrounding him, closing in. He helplessly turned around, feeling more mad moment after moment.
“Answer me now,” a deep, guttural voice boomed in Sylvan.
Needless to say, he jolted awake, gasping. He noticed that the nearby lamp on the bed stand was toppled over, plant matter on it having broken off from the fall. He felt the hands of his lover on his shoulder, presumably in an attempt to shake him awake. Cia’s eyes adjusted, his frantic breathing slowing a bit. Trahearne had a book in his lap, pages put down, as he looked at the other in concern.
“I… I’m sorry if I woke you, Hearnes,” Cia laughed wearily, shaking. “Even if it has been a while, the night terrors…”
“Don’t be sorry. You can’t control them,” Trahearne replied, grabbing a nearby leaf as a bookmark, setting it down on his nightstand. “Dearheart, if we could stop the nightmares, we would have already. It hurts both of us to see you like this,” he shuffled closer to Cia.
“I just… it was one with Magister Sieran, and Apatia, and the Mordrem and our father, and I was scared because I felt my sanity at the last one just, just go and-” he was gasping for air as he started to talk faster, his red glow intensifying.
Trahearne kissed the pale blue commander’s cheek, one of his hands finding the hand of the other. The commander looked over, the marshal’s lavender glow itself intensifying.
“Cianann… you know he’s gone. You did a fine job,” he then whispered, “and we’re both alive. Dear, tell me 3 things you can see.”
“I… I see you, the… the blankets… the curtains…” he muttered, his breath slowing more.
“Where are we?”
“We’re in the Great Mother’s ‘Grove’... we’re in our house…” he answered again, a faint smile on his lips.
“Good, good,” the relaxing sound of his lover’s voice rang out. “Well done.”
Cia looked at him, smiling lovingly, the threat and dream - he shivered about thinking of it - out of his emotions. Grasping the other’s hand tighter, he looked down to spot, again, his newest addition to his outfits: his wedding ring. It was finely crafted; the hands of a master crafter must have made it possible. The best touch was the zircon in the middle - variance from a normal sort of ring that most weddings go for. It symbolized that instead of just partners, Trahearne and him were bonded together, as if they weren’t close enough already through everything. He smiled, cuddling up to his love, the faint scent of lavender making its way into his nose.