#hey tumblr you wanna make the line break work for once? that'd be great

[dragonheart-swtor]

The Need to Know

Summary: In which Eris wakes up from a nightmare desperately needing to be sure of something she can only trust her husband to confirm.

Tags: No Archive warnings apply, Vector/F!Imperial Agent, hurt/comfort, established relationship, Imperial Agent storyline spoilers, mind control, recovering from mind control, trauma, hurt/comfort, angst

AO3 link here

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Eris was suffocating.

She was in a dim-lit room, somewhere that could have been anywhere in the galaxy, and she was face to face with Ardun Kothe and she was suffocating.

There was no sympathy on his face, no hint of regret or guilt or anything but cold calculation. Something weighed on her neck, tight around her throat and growing ever tighter, but when she clutched at it instinctively there was nothing there to grasp. She gasped for air, grabbed for her vibroknife because this is his doing, if I kill him -

She drew back to stab him in the chest, between the ribs to end it fast – her hand froze, unable to make the blow. Her muscles rebelled, control of her own body slipping away from her like water through her fingers. She tried to scream, out of rage or panic she didn't know.

She still couldn't breathe.

Kothe was gone, vanished, but her instincts warned her something worse was coming half a second before she heard his voice.

“Now, now, Legate. Don't be rude.”

Ironically, it was only then that she found it in her to turn, to raise her knife before her and -

And Hunter was far too close, and she couldn't focus on anything but his face, filling her entire field of vision as he leered into her face and that hated word fell from his lips -

“Keyword: onomatophobia.”

She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think.

“Eris?”

---

She snapped awake, frozen, unable to move oh gods she couldn't move -

It took her a few seconds to realize the reason wasn't because she'd lost control again, it was because her muscles were so tense she was locked in place. She gulped in air, fighting to rein herself in, force herself to breathe and relax.

“Eris,” the voice repeated, and she sobbed with relief at the sound. Not Hunter. Vector.

The noise must have frightened him more than anything else to this point, because she saw him move then, start to reach for her before stopping himself. “May we touch you?” he asked gently.

Her muscles were starting to relax again. She forced herself to nod, and Vector's hand fell on her shoulder, providing steady, grounding pressure.

Eris sat up in bed, and Vector sat up with her, turned to face her. She couldn't look into his face, just stared at her own trembling hands and tried to regulate her own breathing. He rubbed her shoulders, murmuring, “It's all right. It was a nightmare. You're safe with us. You're in our room on the Phantom and you're safe.”

Safe. Yes. Vector was safe. He would never hurt her, not even in her worst nightmares. Vector would never hurt her.

His hand moved toward her face, slow and careful; when she didn't flinch away, he brushed his thumb across her cheek, swiping away tears. She'd been crying, maybe before she even woke up. She hadn't realized. “Is there anything we can do?” he asked softly.

Eris looked up at him then, suddenly desperate and fierce and filled with dread and fire. He held her gaze, worry plain to see on his face, as she searched his expression, his bottomless black eyes, looking for – something. She wasn't sure what. She found only Vector, only the Dawn Herald of Oroboro, only her husband.

Oroboro. “Swear to me the nest can keep a secret,” she whispered.

She'd asked him about it before, long ago; he'd promised then that no member of Oroboro would betray her, any more than he himself would. For whatever reason, he didn't question her asking again now. “We can and we will,” he promised.

Her tongue was lead, heavy and poisonous; she had to spit it out before she could talk herself out of it. She had to know. “Keyword: onomatophobia. Say it. Give me a command. Anything.”

He recoiled, face contorting in shock and confusion. “We – don't understand -”

“Say it,” she insisted, clutching at his hands. “Keyword: onomatophobia. And a command, any command. Please. I need – I need to know.”

He gripped her hands tight, taking his turn to search her face this time, and apparently whatever he saw there – she was in no state to hide her terror and desperation – convinced him. He licked his lips, uncertain. “Keyword: onomatophobia,” he repeated slowly, and Eris had to swallow a sudden rise of terror in her throat. His eyes darted away from her – a motion probably anyone else would have missed – as if searching for something to prompt him. “...Get out of bed.”

Eris's breath caught in her throat. The words hung in the air, a simple order but a clear one, and she waited – waited for the inevitable dissociation, for her facial expression to lose any connection to her actual emotions, for her body to move without her consent.

It didn't come. She sat, holding her breath, staring desperately into Vector's face as he stared back into hers, as the seconds ticked by.

It must have been half a minute at least before she finally believed it. Just like that, she sagged like a marionette with its strings cut – a horrible metaphor, considering the context, but an accurate one, she supposed – and buried her face in the crook of Vector's neck. He wrapped his arms around her to support her as she let out a long, shaky breath. “Thank you,” she mumbled against his skin, trying and failing to stop shaking. “Thank you. Thank you.”

He shushed her gently, stroking her hair. When she'd settled a bit, he asked quietly, “That was... your keyword, wasn't it? From before.”

She nodded, not lifting her head from his chest. “I had to be sure,” she whispered. “I had to know for sure and if – if I was wrong, if I was still – you're the only one I can trust with it. You're the only one I can trust.”

He didn't protest that, just hugged her tighter to him as he tugged them both gently back down to lie down under the covers again. And they lay alone in the dark together until she finally stopped shaking, as Vector hummed Killik songs to her until consciousness faded and the world went dark again.

This time, she didn't dream, just woke up again in Vector's arms surrounded by his love and his scent and the final, absolutely certain knowledge that she was safe in her own body, that she would never have her will stolen from her again.