The suit he wore was horribly uncomfortable, the fabric itchy and his cravat too tight. He had no time to adjust his clothing, however, for people continued to approach him, smothering him with hugs or grasping his hand in a friendly handshake. Faces he only vaguely recognized passed before his vision one by one. They praised him on his good fortune and good taste, and West smilingly thanked them each though he was not quite sure why. Until she pressed herself against his side, fiery red hair obscuring her visage.
“Dessandra?” He questioned automatically, and the woman at his side lifted her chin to smirk at him. She was stunning, with her fair skin, high cheekbones, and slightly pursed lips that curled perfectly into that smirk that forced his heart into his throat. Deep red locks framed her face and Westel reached out instinctively to brush a few stray strands out of the way. It was a crime to have such a face blocked in any manner. Her smirk softened into a smile and a fair hand lifted to touch his cheek.
Slowly, Dess raised up onto her toes and brushed her lips against his ear as she whispered, “I love you, Westel. Forever.”
His heart soared and as he opened his mouth to respond in kind, Dess slipped out of his arms. The line of people crowded around them now, watching, judging. Westel’s fiance turned so she walked backwards towards the crowd, daring West to follow. But he did not, he stayed put, watching her in some kind of trance. From the crowd sauntered a tall, blond man. Westel’s eldest brother was broader of shoulder and cleaner in appearance. His own suit seemed to fit him perfectly, in spite of his thick build. A winning smile was shot in West’s direction as Caloneth situated himself beside Dess. Westel’s fiance curled herself into the blond paladin, eyes turned up to his handsome face with the utmost adoration. Cal gave a mocking salute and he and Dess turned to make their way through the parting crowd.
“Dess!” Westel cried, taking a step forward.
The red-head looked over her shoulder, that smirk dancing across her red lips again.
“You…you love me!” Westel attempted to remind her, a white hot pain piercing his chest.
“I loved you once. Perhaps.” Came her reply, and she and Cal continued arm and arm until they disappeared into the crowd.
He crumbled, as did the world around him. Feeling heavy, Westel wandered through the darkness. He had pulled his cravat loose around his neck, his jacket was unbuttoned and the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. He dragged his feet in silence, moving out of the darkness and into the forest. Eversong.
“West!”
He turned and was met with a heart-shaped, freckled face. The petite woman beamed up at him and hopped up to throw her arms around his neck. A slight baby bump pressed against his middle. He was still recovering from the sudden hug when Ashelyen returned to her feet. Her hands found both of his and she peered up at him, grinning.Her curly ginger hair fell every which way, but the chaos suited her.
“Are you excited?” She asked, squeezing his hands.
“For what, love?” Her smile was contagious and now he could not even recall why he had been feeling so morose moments before.
Yen laughed and tugged one of his hands to the slight swell of her belly. “For the baby, babe. It is a boy, I think. Soon, we’ll have a family together. And you and me, we’ll always be together. Forever, West.”
Westel smiled, “For–” Yen dropped his hand and her bubbly smile fell away as well. Silently she backed away as a man even taller and stronger than Cal appeared out of the shadows of the woods. His armor was perfectly polished, his goatee trimmed in the latest style, and his hair pulled into a neat ponytail. Annexious Bloodfury drew Ashelyen into his arms and stooped down to kiss her. One large hand rested over her stomach. Yen looked to Westel and shook her head, almost sadly.
“It will be our family, West. Not yours.”
“You love me, Yen.” Westel insisted, feeling weak-kneed.
“Look at yourself, Westel.” She gestured to his tattered suit and messy hair. “How could I?” She lifted her gaze up to Annexious, who sneered and steered her away into the darkness.
Westel turned and stumbled over some tree roots. His chest felt tight and his head ached. He scrambled through the woods, his suit gaining rips and tears. At some point he lost his shoes and then his jacket. Off balance, Westel blundered through the woods until he came upon a great home. In the very front, beautiful, intricate stained glass windows reflected the fading light of the sun. Standing in the vast front entryway was a dark haired woman, her arms folded lightly. A few children of varying ages skirted around her and scampered inside. Her attention, however, was on Westel as he shuffled closer to the front of the home.
“My wanderer.” Astoreth said affectionately as Westel stood before her. The contrast in their appearance was almost comical. Westel’s clothes were torn and did not fit right in places, his hair had twigs and leaves in it and his face smudged with dirt. Astoreth, on the other hand, was dressed impeccably as if awaiting a dinner party, her straight black hair was smooth and silky, and her skin as flawless as always. She, however, did not seem to notice Westel’s state of dress as she raised up on her toes to peck him on the lips and drew him inside. Hand in his, Astoreth gently lead the ranger up the stairs and down a dark hall into their bedroom. She turned to smile at him, genuinely happy, as she collapsed onto the bed. Westel made his way to the other side and slipped beneath the covers to allow the warlock to fit herself snugly into his side. Her head rested against his chest and her fingers toyed idly with one of his earrings.
“I love you, West.” She tilted her head up to kiss his chin. “I always will. Forever.”
He sighed softly and bent his head to find her lips, but she had sat up. The bedroom door had opened, and in walked a tall paladin. The handsome, dark haired man beamed at his wife as she leaped from the bed and flung herself happily into his arms. Once more, Westel felt heavy and broken as he watched the couple laugh and kiss. Bareris held his wife to his chest, swearing he would not leave ever again, declaring his undying love. Astoreth returned the sentiment sincerely. Quietly, Westel rose from the bed.
“Thank you for keeping her company while I was away.” Bareris grinned, holding Astoreth to his side.
“Westel…” Astoreth looked up at him, still happy as could be. “I did love you.” She says, as if that was some kind of assurance.
“Yes, just not Forever.” West answered hoarsely.
———-
Westel’s covers were tangled and twisted in every direction when he woke, blinking and confused. His chest felt tight and his skin and hair were damp from sweat. He worked his way out of the grasp of those green silk sheets and wandered eventually to the kitchen sink. He silently replayed the events of his dream over and over as he splashed some cold water across his face.
“I don’t even know how to tie a cravat.” He concluded finally, scowling as he went to return to bed.
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