She snuggled closer, buried her head in the crook of my arm, and her leg applied more pressure around me, like she wanted to anchor herself. I obliged all too happily, increasing the pressure of my arms and hands slightly to let her know I was here.
"I dreamed of our binding ceremony, the binding of bodies."
My heart stuttered for just a moment. My mind raced, and I wondered if she really did remember or if her mind had just shown her what she wanted to see.
“We stood in a room in the palace I went to after I woke,” she murmured, her voice soft with the weight of dream and memory. “It was a beautiful room, with tall windows that let the starlight in, the walls were made of that deep blue stone… lapis, I think? And the air smelled like cedar and something sweet, spiced honey, maybe.”
Her fingers traced idle patterns across my chest, and I held perfectly still, afraid that if I interrupted, even with breath, the memory would scatter like dust.
“You stood across from me,” she continued. “Wearing ceremonial robes. Dark blue with silver at the edges. And I—I was in a white dress with gold threading. It shimmered when I moved. There were no guests, no audience. Just us. And someone, an elder? Ney, a priest, standing between us.”
My throat tightened. That had been exactly how it happened.
“And he asked us to speak our vows. But you didn’t wait for him to finish. You stepped forward, took my hands in yours, and said,I’ve waited for you in this life and the last. I’ll wait again if I must. But please, don’t make me wait another minute.”
A laugh escaped her; it was quiet and awed. “It was soyou.Bold, a little impatient, and so full of love it made me want to cry even in the dream.”
My heart swelled until it ached, until I didn’t think my body could contain it.
“That was our first ceremony,” I said, my voice hoarse. “The binding of the bodies. Blessed by the old priest, Errah. You wore that gown because you insisted the gods deserved nothing less than gold thread, and I wore those robes because you said you liked the way they made me look so noble.”
Her head jerked back slightly so she could look at me, wide-eyed. “That’s… that’s exactly what I dreamed. Even the gold thread.”
“Youremembered,” I whispered, reaching up to cup her cheek.
“I dreamed it,” she corrected, but her voice trembled with something deeper. “But it felt more like… a returned memory. Not one I made up. Like it had been waiting to come back.”
“It was,” I said softly. “I think your soul remembers everything, even when your mind doesn’t.”
She leaned into my touch, eyes closing for a moment. “Then it’s true, isn’t it? We did it. We completed one of the rituals.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “You bound yourself to me in body that night. And I bound myself to you in every way that matters.”
She opened her eyes again, full of wonder. “Then there’s still the other.”
I smiled. “The binding of the souls.”
I kissed her forehead. “When you’re ready.”
She snorted lightly, her voice laced with something more playful. “Well, considering how last night went, I think I’ve already submitted.”
I chuckled, tightening my arms around her. “There’s a ritual for it, too, you know. A ceremony, sacred and private.”
Her brow arched. “Does it also involve honey cakes and me biting your thumb?”
“Not traditionally,” I grinned, “but I’m willing to rewrite the rules.”
She laughed then, the sound bright and unguarded. “I want it all, Mallack. The memories, the rituals, the life we lost. I want it back.”
“You already have it,” I said, pulling her on top of me so I could see her face in the morning light. “You never truly left me. Not even in death.”
She lowered herself slowly, pressing her lips to mine; her kiss was soft and slow and full of something eternal.
We stayed like that, lips barely brushing, breath mingling in the quiet hush of morning. For a moment, it was only the two of us. No gods. No war. No memories lost or reclaimed. Just love. Simple. Fierce. Whole.
Then the tent flap flew open.
“I swear to Grandyr, if you two are naked again?—”
