Work Text:
Bliss.
Effervescent delight bubbled inside of Callie, a champagne of ebullience in her blood making her giggle as she mended the rip.
Fuck, this felt wonderful, amazing, mind-blowing.
“Solanen!”
Floating as if in a dream, she continued her work. For once, nothing hurt.
She stitched—
Never in her life had she felt such...
—and stitched—
...such ecstasy save for rare moments...
—and stitched—
...in a lover's arms...
—and stitched—
...and even then....
—and stitched—
“Solanen!”
Coughing
Joy
Retching
Elation
Throbbing
Peace
Blood stained the sand.
Something Pulsed.
It called to her.
No, she wanted to stay. Pulse. It felt good here, Pulse, felt safe. Pulse. Why should she give up—?
“Solanen!”
Beguiling pleasure nearly drowned the voice. Pulse. Callie fought against the ecstasy. She must escape.
Her duty demanded it.
She could sense the rip, but not the Junimos nor her own body. Panic clawed at her. Frantic, she cast about, searching for that connection.
Pulse.
“Calia!”
She followed the voice—
Pulse.
“The valley needs you.”
—the thread—
Pulse.
“Sterling needs you.”
—of love back home.
Like a steady, rapid heartbeat, the pulses drew her on, drew her back, until suddenly her mind slammed into her body.
The world swam.
Laughter became screams. The magic slowed. Agony flooded in, tainting the bliss. But she knew pain better than most.
...it was an old friend.
Gritting her teeth, Callie resumed her mending.
She could not tell how long it took: seconds, minutes, days, years.
But stitch by stitch, she patched the gap. Repaired reality.
White flashes of biting needles cavorted with sublime rapture.
Another Push.
Claws tore at the seam.
With a final, frenzied Push of her own, she tied off the thread. It wouldn’t, couldn't, unravel.
Finished, she released the Junimos’ magic.
Anguish.