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teejaystumbles · 1 year ago

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Your Love Is Sunlight

A Guild Wars 2 Dreamling fanfiction

(I wrote the Guild Wars AU I desperately wanted because I think Dream is absolutely made to be Sylvari - born from the Dream, connected to his race via their shared subconscious - it just screamed Dream to me and therefore I made two new characters in GW2 and wrote them a tiny story LOL. This is spoiler-free for Guild Wars, I tried to keep it in the early personal story and not mention major things. You don't need to know anything about Guild Wars to enjoy this, a lot of Sylvari things are actually mentioned and explained in this, anything else is not really important.)

It's a simple escort job through the Gendaran Fields to Lion's Arch but the caravan is big and a few adventurers have been hired as guards. Dream would normally not waste time with something like this, but he is expected in Lion's Arch and therefore joining the caravan is no hassle. He would be faster alone, but something about the colourful wagons and the cheerful atmosphere draws him in and he decides to tag along. The caravan is made up of a troupe of entertainers, actors and musicians, dancers and jugglers. Dream watches them laugh and tease each other with fascination. They are a mixed group, Human, Asura, Norn and even Charr, and despite their different races they seem to be getting along well. There are no Sylvari among the group and Dream is both relieved and disappointed. He had hoped to ask a sibling after their experience with these people, had hoped for new stories. But he doubts his questions would have been welcome. He looks like a member of the Nightmare Court, after all.

The group is setting up a camp for the night when Dream, lost in thought, trips over a root and stumbles into the back of a nearby human. The huge dog at the man's side immediately growls at him and Dream stumbles back as the ranger turns.

"I apologise…" Dream says and keeps a careful eye on the dog, but it goes quiet after only a click of the tongue of its master.

The man, who has a bow and sword strapped to his back, stares at Dream with a wide grin and bright eyes and eagerly takes Dream's hands into his own. "No matter! It is an honour to meet a child of the Pale Tree! Well met, friend!"

Continue reading on AO3 or below the cut!

Dream pulls his hands free and takes a hasty step back. The human's dog sniffs at his leg and he shifts uneasily.

"Friend…?" Memories of dreams of so-called friends betraying each other fill his mind.

Smiles and supper shared. Then stabbing him into the back when he turns.

He frowns and shakes his head to disperse them, forcing himself to speak.

"I don't know you. We are not friends. Trust. Has to be earned."

The human stops smiling and looks at him with an almost pained expression. He brushes his shoulder-length dark hair out of his face and tugs on his earlobe. "You are right. Forgive my haste. My name is Hob Gadling. Just Hob is fine. It's a pleasure to meet you…?"

"...Dream."

The bright smile is back in an instant. "What a wonderful name! Dream. Beautiful, just like you!"

Dream feels himself glow and shrink in on himself, his petals shivering. There is no heart in his body but he feels a heat inside his chest that makes him feel like there should be. No one has called him beautiful before. He is too pale, too dark, too broken by nightmares. His sisters and brothers shy away from him, sensing the turmoil of his dreams, the negative emotions that shaped him. If this human knew him like they know him, would he still smile at Dream in such a way?

He does not dare find out and quickly turns away, leaving the human standing with a hastily mumbled apology. He flees to the far side of the camp and lays out his bedroll. The human had looked taken aback but had not followed him. Dream is - again - both relieved and disappointed at that. He lies down and closes his eyes, willing himself to rest and sleep.

He wakes from nightmares in the middle of the night, as usual, and silently slips out of the camp towards the nearby river to watch the moon and the glowing insects until the sun rises and the first people begin to stir.

The next day is uneventful. Except for a few huge glowflies attacking them when they pass through a swampy area, nothing happens that the hired adventurers can’t handle. Dream watches the human from last night - Hob Gadling - masterfully use both bow and sword to swiftly deal with any aggressive wildlife. Their eyes meet a few times and Hob gives him a friendly smile every time. When they make camp for the night again Dream finds himself close to the man again but feels at a loss for words. Fortunately, Hob does not seem to have any qualms to initiate another conversation.

"Have you been to Lion's Arch before, Dream?"

Dream looks up from inspecting his daggers and sees that the human is busying himself with his pack and quiver, and giving his dog a few strips of dried meat. Dream watches him scratch the dog and coo at it quietly before he finds his voice.

"Yes."

Hob looks back at him. "And how did you find it? I think it's too big for me. I got lost the first few times. Ended up in a cave with a dead pirate playing hide and seek, I almost died - stupid old bastard." He laughs loudly and Dream can only stare in fascination. This human is so. Happy. While telling of a life-threatening situation. It is. Confusing. And fascinating.

Hob has set down his weapons and pack and sits on a log, watching Dream with clear, amber eyes. His smile shows no sign of diminishing.

"Won't you sit with me, Dream? I've always wanted to ask a Sylvari about those dogs some of you are keeping as companions."

Dream slowly and carefully perches on the other end of the log and says: "You mean Sylvan Hounds?"

"Yes! Those!" Hob pats his dog happily and looks at Dream full of anticipation, his eyes bright and friendly. The man seems genuinely nice. Dream will stay alert but simply talking to this human…is probably not that dangerous.

Gaining someone’s trust is the first step to a successful betrayal , a well-known voice in his mind whispers. Dream has always had the suspicion that it is the voice of Cadeyrn, taunting him from the Nightmare…

"They are born just like we are. From the Pale Tree, but they're not…sapient, like us."

"They're like dogs." Hob grins and pat's his hound again. Dream nods. "Yes."

"But they're plants."

"All Sylvari are plants."

"I know, it's fascinating, isn't it? And to imagine that the eldest of you are only, what, about 30 years old?" Hob laughs and shakes his head in wonder. Dream frowns. He does not like that his race is often compared to children. Sylvari have much to learn, that is true, but they are not simple . They are simply new to this world, their history short.

"Is it true that no one knows how old you can actually get?"

Dream lifts his eyes from the forest floor and stares at Hob in bafflement. He can't help a sneer and shifts subtly away from the human.

"It is. Why does that ‘ fascinate’ you? Because we are so young to have so far never died of natural causes? Because this world kills us rather than let us live our life to the fullest?"

Dream feels himself shivering with fury. He doesn't know why he is angry. Hob's question was innocuous enough, something anyone might ask a Sylvari. Death as such is not something the Sylvari view as a terrible fate, they find it interesting and do not share the same fear of it as the other races. His elder sister is constantly researching the topic. Yet Dream feels only rage at the reminder of how many of his siblings have died for Tyria, for the fight against the Elder Dragons. He thinks of his closest siblings, born with him and shortly after him. Destiny, as close to their mother as only the Firstborn are, rarely emerging from her grove. Death, named after what fascinates her most, always wandering, never in one place for long. Despair, dead. Desire, her twin, lost to the Nightmare Court. Delirium, who sleeps and stays inside the Dream rather than face the real world. Destruction, who chose to become soundless. Himself, always courted by the Nightmare, constantly fighting against his dark side.

He thinks of them and feels sadness, and rage. How dare the other races judge them? How dare this human ask him how old a Sylvari can get, when from the moment they are born they have to struggle for survival, for sanity, for recognition as sentient beings, for the simple right to exist?

They will never treat us as anything but expendable curiosities. We have to show them what we are capable of , Cadeyrn whispers in his mind. Dream drops his head into his hands and pulls at his sapphire blue leaves.

Shut up! Get out of my head!

Hob beside him grows tense and leans forward. When a gentle hand lands on his shoulder, Dream flinches violently and looks up with wide eyes. Hob lets go immediately when he sees his face.

"Hey," the man says, his voice quiet and careful, "are you alright? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried. It's just," he shakes his head and pulls again at his earlobe, "I've always wanted to meet one of your kind and you looked lonely. And I thought you'd like someone to talk to."

Dream stares at him, momentarily lost for words, anger still rolling inside him. Then he jumps up from the log and snarls: “Lonely?! I am connected to the subconscious of my entire race and our mother. I am never alone . You dare make assumptions when you know nothing of my kin and I.”

He grabs his pack and stalks away, ignoring Hob’s soft plea to wait.

That night he dreams again of Despair’s death, of Desire’s subsequent descent into madness. How he begged them to stay, how they still turned from him and joined the Nightmare Court. How when he last met them, they had wrapped him in thorny vines and cooed at him to join them, licking the sap running from his throat where the thorns made him bleed.

‘Just let go, sweet Dream. Embrace your deeper urges, your violent tendencies, your love of the night. Come with me, brother. It will finally make you happy…’

Dream surges awake with a gasp and a cry, startling a nearby Asura, who looks at him first with worry, then with typical scientific curiosity. He makes haste to grab his bedroll and pack and leave their vicinity, before he becomes the subject of an Asuran study into Sylvari dreams. He finds himself drifting closer to Hob again during the day. When night falls they make camp for the last time on their journey. They will reach Lion’s Arch tomorrow and Dream will have to meet with Caithe and the other heroes of old to discuss the ongoing threat to Tyria. He might not see any of these people again, and it is that thought that lets him stay when he sees Hob coming towards him and gingerly set down his pack beside him.

Dream is no longer angry. He knows Hob is right in his assessment that Dream is lonely, despite anything he said last night. His connection to other Sylvari through the Dream is tenuous and constantly strained by nightmares, which others can sense when they meet him. He has thought about becoming soundless, like his brother Destruction, but has shied away from taking such a radical step to remove himself from the Dream. He cherishes the sense of love he gets from their mother, even if it is faint. He doesn’t think he could bear to lose it.

Hob approaches him cautiously and sits down on a tree root. He says: “I apologise for yesterday, Dream. I did not mean to offend.”

He smiles gently. "We’ll soon reach Lion’s Arch, and honestly, I could use the company, because…I realised that it is actually me who’s lonely,” he chuckles and tugs again at his earlobe. Dream’s eyes widen at the man’s words, said softly and with a hint of sadness, but ringing true.

“How about you ask me questions? I'd love to tell you anything you might want to know."

Dream licks his lips and blinks a few times to clear his mind. Hob's smile is making that warm place in his chest feel tender and mellow again. This human is truly...

"Weird."

"Huh?"

"You are the weirdest human I have ever met." Dream says, his voice rough. His throat is as dry as old bark. Hob laughs. "You're not the first to say that! Although I really don't understand why being friendly gets you called weird in this world."

He grows solemn, the corners of his mouth turning down. "Makes you think, doesn't it?" he muses and looks down at his dog, which is happily lying beside him, head on Hob's feet. Dream watches him closely, intrigued, and takes in more details. Hob is not particularly tall or particularly broad for a human, but he is still a lot broader than Dream. The muscles of his arms and legs are well defined by his shirt and leather trousers. This man is a fighter, his fingers callused by arrows and sword, the backs of his hands littered with scars, but his face is gentle and his whole demeanour one of kindness. Dream catalogues his colours the only way Sylvari can - by comparing them to plants. Hob's hair is as dark as ebony, his skin the colour of an unpeeled almond, and his eyes are like dark apricot tree sap. He has a strong nose and a chin with a cleft and the shadow of a beard that Dream finds fascinating. Hob is handsome, for a human.

"It seems you like animals better than your fellow men." Dream states rather than asks and Hob looks back up at him quickly and gives a small chuckle.

"Well, you're not wrong. I mean, I like people, I do, but animals - they're just easier, you know? A dog will not mind if you love it too much. It will give you its life and loyalty and love and never question yours if you treat it right."

Dream cocks his head and frowns. "Do humans not...like to be loved?" *By you*, he does not say but wonders as he watches Hob pet his dog. Anyone this man loves must be the luckiest person in the world, he thinks and is glad that his skin does not blush and the encroaching darkness of the night makes his stronger glow seem like a natural occurrence. Hob absently scratches his chin and huffs a laugh. "Of course they do. I'm just... too much, it seems. For some." He clears his throat and then adds with a grin: "So please, ask away. I will annoy you long before you can annoy me."

Dream frowns again. "You... are not annoying. You are curious, but kind. I find myself grateful... for your company. Hob."

The smile Hob levels at him is nearly blinding and Dream feels himself glow even brighter. Hob's eyes twinkle and his delight is plain on his face. "You're glowing! Is that because it's getting dark? Do you only glow at night or also when it's bright? Do you all glow in different colours?"

Dream can't help but duck his head shyly and mumble: "It's...I..."

Hob sharply sucks in a breath and lifts his hands in an apologetic gesture. "Sorry, sorry, here I go again, asking about personal things. You don't have to answer that. I just," he falters and rubs his neck again, a blush rising on his cheeks. "It looks...very beautiful."

Dream feels his glow brighten even more and this time he can see that Hob has caught it. He leans closer and looks at Dream more closely. “It got stronger. Are you…are you blushing ? Is it like a human blush, when your glow-”

“Yes!” Dream blurts out and grips the bark of the root he’s sitting on tightly, his posture growing more and more rigid. Hob stares at him with his mouth open and his eyes wide in wonder. Then he smiles again and Dream knows if he wasn’t wrapped in a cloak he would be lighting up their small corner of the camp like a torch.

“Please stop,” he begs and wraps his arms around himself, “calling me beautiful.”

Hob scoots closer to him and waits until Dream meets his eyes again.

“Why?” he asks softly, “It’s the truth. You are gorgeous, Dream. Has no one ever told you that?”

Dream feels himself start to shiver. “No,” he whispers, “I am. Not used to compliments.” He is used to frightened glances, to suspicious glares, to whispers behind his back. ’He feels off.’ ‘His eyes are like tar pits.’ ‘He’s going to join the Nightmare Court, I’m sure of it.’ ‘Look at that one, are you sure he’s no courtier? Let’s better not get too close.’

Hob puts a hand on Dream’s shaking shoulder and this time Dream doesn’t flinch away. The touch grounds him and he feels himself lean into it. Hob’s hand is warm where it touches him and suddenly Dream craves warmth. He does not need sunlight and prefers the nighttime, having been born of the Cycle of Night, but he does not enjoy being cold. Hob’s touch makes him feel like he has only ever been cold. He can’t remember when someone last touched him with kindness either.

Hob must sense how Dream relaxes because after only a moment he gently coaxes him to lean more firmly against Hob’s shoulder. Dream wants to melt into his arms and feels instantly ashamed of his reaction.

You don’t know anything about this man. Humans are violent creatures of the flesh, always hungry, don’t mistake their intentions.

Dream would give an arm and a leg if it meant being rid of that voice inside his head. He closes his eyes and whispers: “You see me like no one before has. Sometimes I think too many nightmares made their way into my being…that I am tainted beyond help. Does not my appearance prove it? There is no light in my eyes, like in those lost to the Nightmare Court…and my siblings fear me.” The words spill forth almost without his consent.

Hob hums and wraps his arm tighter around Dream’s shoulders. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think they are fools. It is clear to me that you are not evil, Dream, and I find you more than beautiful. Your eyes are like the rarest black pearls,”

Dream feels a gentle touch on his cheek and opens his eyes to stare into Hob’s warm amber ones,

“and you’re the most magical thing I have ever seen,” Hob murmurs softly and brushes his fingertips reverently under Dream’s eyes. Dream inhales deeply and feels his gaze drawn to Hob’s mouth. Hob notices and quirks his lips but doesn’t say anything. Dream swallows and decides to take a leap of faith.

“Earlier…I wondered. How anyone could find you…too much. I thought…I would be so lucky. To be loved by someone like you.”

Hob’s nostrils flare and his eyes widen a bit before another one of his brilliant smiles lights up his face. He leans closer and says, lips almost touching Dream’s: “You’re in luck, then. You should know…I fall in love ridiculously easily. And I can tell that loving you,” Dream feels Hob’s breath on his lips and lets his eyes drop closed again, “will be no hardship at all. My Dream.”

Their lips meet and Dream sighs happily into the kiss, feeling Hob’s warmth radiate from his mouth and hands on his shoulders. Hob pulls back after only a moment but strokes Dream’s cheeks gently and gives him another smile that makes Dream feel like the sun has risen again. Still, he cannot help but give voice to his insecurities:

“Please. Hob. Be honest. Do you…fall out of love just as easily?”

Hob lets out a startled laugh and brushes a sapphire leaf out of Dream’s face. “Didn’t I tell you? I usually am told that I’m too much. Once I latch onto someone, it’s hard to get rid of me.”

He brushes his mouth against Dream’s glowing cheek and adds, more softly: “I’m like a dog, Dream. Treat me kindly and let me love you…and I will stay with you forever.”

Dream gasps and turns his face towards Hob’s. His hands come up to touch his cleft chin in awe and feel his stubble, trace the contours of his face and feel the silky texture of his hair. “You are a wonder, Hob Gadling.”

Hob blushes and laughs again and leans in to kiss him again, something Dream is only too happy to grant. He pulls Hob closer and down onto the mossy forest floor, so he can finally have Hob’s warm body cover his lengthwise. They trade kisses and gentle touches, marvelling at the other in the glow of Dream’s bioluminescence. After a while Hob suddenly hums in thought and a tiny frown appears on his forehead as he seems to contemplate something.

"Dreams and nightmares…I’ve heard your mother only puts special memories into the Dream, right? Significant ones?"

Dream nods and shuffles closer into Hob’s embrace.

"Ones with impact, that create significant feelings, good or bad, have a higher chance to resonate with her, and thus within the Dream, yes."

Hob grins and caresses Dream’s back and sides with his broad palms. Dream relishes the heat coming off his hands and body and sighs again happily. He wants to feel them against his skin, but there will be time for that later, he hopes.

Hob says: "Let me give you a memory to stick, then. Let me give you a thousand . Your mother shall know my love for you and feel proud. I want her to know the depth of my gratitude for having given life to you, my Dream."

Dream pulls back to properly look into Hob’s face. He feels himself smile in what feels like the first time since his sister died.

"Very well. May my memories of you shine so brightly that they vanquish a thousand nightmares the Court has created, Hob Gadling. May your radiant smile live in the Dream as eternal inspiration and delight for our mother and all unborn Sylvari."

#I indulged myself with this and wrote more than half of it last night as a reward for finishing the big bang art #dreamling #dream x hob #guild wars 2 au #the sandman fanfiction #teejay writes #own writing

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mystery-salad · 9 months ago

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The world is safe now.

You tell yourself that as Zhaitan clings to a tower of decay, crumbling beneath its claws as the canons aim true. The shots hit, cheers raise as the dragon topples down. Falling from view through the miasma it created below. No one can hear it hit the ground over the relieved shouts of victory ringing across the airships. But everyone feels it in a resounding rumble that shouldn't have carried through the air like that. The celebrating falters, confusion rising but not fast enough to prepare for what follows. The shockwave hits like nothing you've ever felt. Everything goes dark as the screams begin.

The world is safe now, Orr is not.

You wake up in the rubble as survivors try to make sense of what happened. The dragon is dead, but no one accounted for where all the consumed magic had to go. No one planned for this despite generations of preparation. Perhaps there's a reason for the dragons, you hear murmurs through the tents. But you didn't come this far to call it quits, and one land riddled with a decaying radiation can't stop the mission. The contamination in your blood won't stop you.

The world is safe now. Orr is gone.

Mordremoth stares you down from within his mind. You're like a weed that won't die, small and foreign but resilient and ready to take everything. The odds are against you with the team sent away, you can't face the gaze of the dead like last time. They're safe at a distance, you have to hope they got far enough as you defy the odds and strike another dragon down.

The world is safe, but there's a catch.

Trahearne shudders as your mind returns to your body, as you look around in wonder that there isn't a shockwave like last time. He's so calm as he explains the truth of it, defying how terrified he is of dying, of asking a friend to do this and stand at ground zero once again. But you stand just as calm, picking up the blade and telling him to close his eyes. You hope he'll rest well, wherever his life takes him next. As the blade cuts through, you know it's real as the shockwave begins just like last time. You brace for impact as much as you can.

The world is safe now. The desert is gone.

It's almost tempting to let Balthazar handle the rest, let the god walk a path of destruction to each dragon, sparing yourself further damage. But his path leaves so much unnecessary devastation...so here you are alone with another dragon. Well, not completely alone now. You have Aurene, though you're still not sure if that's truly a blessing any more. The two of you corner Kralkatorrik, the perfect trap laid deep underground in old sunspear ruins.

The world is safe now, until the dragon takes a last stand.

Waking up in wreckage is becoming normal to you. When did that happen, when did the panic vanish? No time to think on it as new plans have to be laid out. You chase him down, you and your dragon, to kill her grandfather and save the world again. Setbacks are numerous. It's harder to work alone on this one, so many soldiers are ready to see it to the end with you. You tell them they don't know what they're asking for and send them away again. Aurene, still a child, fights the dragon's minions nearly overwhelmed as you get to his heart and strike. You've never seen the explosion from inside before. It's so bright.

The world is safe now. The island is gone.

Is it worth it all? It has to be, you tell yourself, as people celebrate your victories in a shrinking world. Refugees who have fled the fallout zones don't seem to agree, but at least they're alive right? And you know you're almost done. Jormag and Primordus, opposites and twins, rise together and somehow feel like childsplay after the last one. Perhaps it's because aurene is an equal to them now. You don't dare to think of the devastation that would be left if she were to die now. Thankfully you don't have to as the siblings tear each other apart.

The world is safe now. The mountains are gone.

No one has seen the final dragon in ages, hidden away deep underwater until you stumble into the truth while chasing a lesser threat. Soo Won was so gentle once, but the void ravages all. It feasts on the magic you released so willingly into the world, your devastations have paved the way for this chaos.

The world is safe now, for the void to reform.

You've survived so much despite the odds, held together by the very magic degrading your bones and poisoning your blood. The void pulls at those strings as it taunts you through the voice of the dragon who started it all. It's the hardest fight you've ever faced. As Aurene pumps you full of power to survive, you wonder if your death would bring destruction too in this moment. But it's left a mystery as Soo Won falls and the void fades. There's a moment of peacefulness you've never felt before, the grandmother hanging on long enough to comfort her granddaughter. But she can't prevent the state of her death. The jade sea shatters beneath your feet as she dies.

The world is safe now. But how much of it is left?

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #gw2 fan submission #quaille #hiiiiii this is specifically about quaille's au #where each dragon's death leaves a monumental magic explosion and essentially #a radiation zone that reflects their element #orr kills and revives and degrades everything in it like a recording played too many times over #maguuma strangles itself with too much growth choking out its own light #the desert crackles with an electricity that consumes anything that holds life #the mountains rage against themselves with deadly storms that tear apart anyone who gets caught in the middle #the jade sea has shattered and flooded cantha #quaille is a mess of these aftershocks from within #was it worth the mission?

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