i know you, i walked with you once upon a dream [closed]

[girlinthebox]

WHO: River, Aleron, Simon, Melys, Sina, and Bruce.
WHAT: The Dreamer's going for a walk.
WHEN: Guardian 29
WHERE: The Faaaaaaaaaade
NOTES: CW: Abuse, violence, trauma, etc. Individual starters within.

The Fade is not separate, but intertwined. One half of a woven tapestry, unseen but present and binding. The mages could feel it when they pulled magic through, or walked that plane in sleep. Dreamers? Felt those ties in their bones, the way they tied and plucked at the mundane world of the waking. Their emotions stirred spirits, their memories left imprints that echoed.

Their dreams shaped the abstract around them, without them even knowing. River knew. River had found those paths and wandered them, slipping in and out of one dream and then another, avoiding demons and watching the landscape shift around those who slept in Skyhold.

Here, the bindings were firmer, more secure, but she could see more clearly. Tonight, she made her walk down those paths, following the echoes of sound and emotion like loose strings in different colors. Gather them up and see the picture on the other side.

Carefully, carefully. Here, her touch could alter far too much.

Comments

[amygdalae]

It hears the words and that has it glancing around, as if trying to find where the source is from. But there is nothing except the trees and her and this isn't what its used to. There's no violence, no pain, nothing to be angry at - and that alone is a huge juxtaposition to its very nature.

Without anything to vent its anger towards all it does is to eventually roar its frustration out to its surroundings, growling and snarling and letting everything nearby be well-aware of its existence. For it does exist, no matter how tightly caged it is, and the world should know that.

[girlinthebox]

There would be those that would want it chained, defeated, locked or hidden away. But the rage demons she'd encountered before had been painful to even be near. Perhaps, in joining with Bruce, his nature had changed it. Humans could corrupt spirits...perhaps the opposite was true as well, if a thousand times more unlikely.

Her head tips, eyes closing, trying to find something that will let him know she means him no harm. What comes to her is a song, old, the voice was lower and rougher but still female. Kind.

She gives it to the birds around them, a melody bouncing off the trees. A lullaby.

[amygdalae]

The song resounds around the area, soft and gentle, everything that it isn't right now and if anything it brings about even more confusion. The demon roars even more, as if trying to fight back against the peace, but at the same time there's something inside that is responding to what it hears - the melody, the voice... everything.

Even as it roars it seems like the glow around the demon is flickering, starting to grow dim as the rage burns out. The green tinge fades, disappearing, and cracks start to appear across its lyrium shell, sounds of crackling echoing out as they get bigger.

As if knowing its hold won't stay on for much longer the demon roars even louder, its cry resounding through the Fade, letting out its loudest one yet before the cracks cover its form entirely. It stays still for a moment after that once the roar dies out from its throat, a single second of silence, and then there's the sound of something shattering into a million pieces as the lyrium splinters and breaks, revealing the human who had been encased inside of it.

Bruce tumbles down to the ground, powerless and exhausted, crumpling in a heap as the lyrium fragments dissipate into the Fade, leaving nothing but trails of green that quickly vanish.

[girlinthebox]

It's only then that she dares to creep closer, knowing it is still there, still lingering in his skin, in his heart, in his head. The fury simply has nothing to rail against any longer.

River sinks down into the grass nearby, watching those fragments fade away. She can almost see the scene replaying itself behind their brightness, the angry older man, the dead woman, the frightened child. The ghosts that haunted him even now, tying this creature to him, lashed by old hurts and fears.

But no other demon dared walk this section of the Fade. The demon was...keeping him safe?

[amygdalae]

It takes a while but eventually, Bruce stirs back awake from his exhaustion. They're still in the Fade, but his mind is back to itself and no longer trapped by... everything that had been happening earlier.

He groans as he shifts, hands moving to brace against the ground as Bruce slowly tries to at least sit up. Even in the Fade having the demon overpowering him is--unpleasant, and Bruce can only hope that none of that transferred over to outside of the Fade.

He doesn't really want to imagine that.

[girlinthebox]

She doesn't reach out to touch him, not here, but he'll no doubt recognize the young girl crouched in front of him, peering at him with a mix of worry and curiosity. "His shape is different. He shaped inside of you, started corrupted but crystallized. A chrysalis. It changes the body politic."

The birds still sing sweetly overhead. Just in case.

[amygdalae]

There's a pause in where Bruce first hears the words and where he registers said words and the voice in which they were spoken. Once it sinks in, however, he's instantly looking up even though he's still lying on the ground, head raised to look at her.

"...you." His voice is strained, tired--uncomfortable. "You shouldn't be here."

He had a good idea of what she was, yes, but this just confirms it. And Bruce doesn't know if he should be scared of this or not. If she was here, then she must have... he doesn't want to think about that, either.

[girlinthebox]

"You were afraid."

He's not trying to shoo her away, as far as she can tell. It's more that she shouldn't be here, she shouldn't have seen what she did, reflections on a broken mirror. His heart remembers the terror of that day and it reflects on the Fade, but she can smooth the edges, shield him from the vast, terrifying unknown around them.

Her brow furrows delicately.

"I wanted to help."

[amygdalae]

Somehow hearing that she wanted to help only has Bruce letting out a short, brief laugh, the laugh itself harsh and bitter before Bruce lowers his head back down to the ground.

"Don't bother," he returns, and far from his usual mild manners there's nothing but bitterness and disappointment in his voice. "There's nothing left here to help."

He's already lost himself, so long ago. All he is now is a shell, an empty husk of something that had once been who he was. Now he's only a little more real than an actual ghost. Or maybe he's even less than that. Who knows, really. The Maker certainly didn't.