Woven Dreams

by Odd_Sarge


Woven Dreams

It had been a long day. But that was part of the plan.

My morning had come and gone as per usual; a quick dose of tea to get my limbs moving, and a brisk shower before I was off to work. The workplace had another quiet day prepared for me, and I was left to sit there hunkering down at the front desk staring at the same dull-yellow wallpaper for the majority of the day. A customer finally came in near closing time to check in on a piece of their equipment, but it had been some kind of arcanotech craft, and as such it was out of my field of expertise. My boss had done much of the legwork because she was the only unicorn—and other pony—working in the shop, but she did call upon me to help dig into a few crevices with a flashlight. It was a tedious affair, and it took much of the remaining time on my shift, but it was work, and that was far better than sitting there staring at the wall for any longer. Unfortunately, I had gotten too involved in the project.

Needless to say, I refused to take the overtime from my boss—Celestia knows the patience the mare had to keep me working with her despite how little I had to offer magic-wise—and I swiftly left for home well after the closing hour. The night was cool, as predicted by the local Fillydelphia weather team, and it was a welcome feeling; for the last several weeks, the temperature had been disgustingly hot, and the soft caress of the breeze was beyond refreshing. I relished in the pleasurable feeling by traveling the long road around town, and soon grew fonder of the night when I took to the wing.

I arrived home well into the night, weary, and desperately praying my neighbors would leave me be.

Thankfully enough, the duplexes were silent; it was midnight, after all. As much as I enjoyed the company of the Fillydelphian ponies, I could only put up with it for so long before it became more aggravating than enjoyable. Several months had gone by since I’d moved to town, and just a few since I’d grown accustomed to waking up in Fillydelphia, but it was still so incredibly jarring to be in contact with ponies; after a full year and more of living beyond Equestria, communicating my feelings in a proper manner remained a stiff and uncomfortable process.

Shuddering, I held my key up to the flickering bulb to ensure I had the right direction going in.

“Deep breaths.” The key slid into place. It turned smoothly.

Fillydelphia was supposed to be my new home... but it didn’t feel like it. All because of what I couldn’t remember. Of what I’d done... what had been done to make sure I wouldn’t remember.

But I had made plans, and they were ones I couldn’t forget. I had crossed my T’s and dotted my I’s, done what I’d could to ensure that everything was down pat, made all the proper arrangements to jog my memory.

At work, my personal safe—which my boss had allowed me to keep there—stood stoic. It had been the foundation of the past six months of work, waiting to be used as the metaphorical key to my memories. I had stumbled into the workplace without the faintest clue where I’d gotten it, and no idea how long I’d had it. Despite my initial concerns, wheels had been set into motion, ones I would not allow to simply coast due to the container’s origins; the safe’s manual within had been marked with my signature on the inside cover, and that told me it was a gift to my own self. And what a peculiar gift it was.

One day at work, it clicked together in my mind that the notes I had seen appearing within the safe were all connected. They had not always been there together; timestamps were formed, written schedules misaligned, and my mind at wit’s end in the pursuit of comprehension; ‘how these notes written in my hoofwriting could exist’ was a question I flung myself into answering; I had written them, but when and why, I did not know. In between days where the messages would speak about the meals I had or the things I had fixed at work, dribbles of truth spilled forth; the notes spoke a great deal about the shadowy beauty of something I saw in my dreams, something I never was able to fully recall when I awoke, but something with me at every waking moment. The notes’ infatuation… my infatuation, with the thing in my dreams was something I had been working towards for half a year. Soon enough, I began to write my own notes alongside these notes of dreams, and my two halves began to form the plan.

Today had been chosen as the day to go through with my plan. The notes had been building up to today’s date with an ever-fastening crescendo, and it appeared the force I sought to fight knew this.

Though I had not received the entirety of the plan, my first encounter with my adversary was not enough to be a major setback; the disappearance of the stacks of sticky notes in my bedside drawer was a message. It was clear cut to me, a fact decided by the memories I retained through the portions of the plan tucked away in the safe.

The screen door snapped loudly behind me in an attempt to take out my heels. My heart quickened at the sound, but I pushed deeper. There was no going back, now. Doomed to fate, what lay ahead was the answer. I was more than sure I would not be pleased, but I was beyond desperation to seek understanding of the shadow who plagued my life.

Hobbling, my hooves grew weak as I trudged down through the familiar empty living room. All I wanted more than anything in the world was to tumble into my bed and submit to the harbinger. My door was ajar, and I swore to the goddesses that could hear me that I would discover the truth with or without their help. Their silence was bitter, but they understood they could not sway me from my unbecoming. Here now they turned from my pounding, and allowed me to move on from their gate; my own personal gate to truth was hoofsteps away, and they could not interfere.

Five more steps, truth lain bare upon cotton sheets.

Four more steps, the dream’s form in view.

Three more steps, the beauty described in my notes.

Two more steps, my mind reeled at what our heart adored.

One more step, and I slipped through the Gate of Truth.

Here upon the Umbral Plains, my bed lay. This was my bedroom, my sanctum where the notes of dreams were written in the barest morning light when she was asleep. Where she could not strike me as she slept her own self. Where she failed to notice my work until it was too late. Where she lay now in contemplation. She drank in my form, covers slightly lifted to create the perfect place for a pony to lay beside her. She stretched briefly, hoof touching lightly against her cheek as she leaned on my pillow.

“Come here.” Her voice was husky, filled with honeyed lies and dreams.

My hooves quaked beneath me. I moved on from the doorway and stood before the bed.

“Gossamer,” I croaked. “Your name... is Gossamer. Remove your disguise… please.”

The grey mare’s face fell. A silent wave suddenly appeared; the sea green flames lapped at her back as they transformed into a patchy pair of transparent wings. Her curved horn remained to split her equally green mane, and so too did the heart earrings I had purchased for her so long ago; the single earring visible to me pulsed a light pink as I stepped closer.

Gossamer sat up. “I never meant to hurt you, Bronze. You were alone and looking for love, and I needed love, too. I wasn’t going to let you ruin that for us.”

“But you lied to me. I… I still loved you after I knew. Why did you do it?”

“I did it because I had to,” she whispered. “It was too much of a risk for you to know, because we would have both been torn apart by the Equestrians had you gone through with your plan.” Gossamer smiled her sweet, soft, salacious smile. “You always had an affinity for plans, Bronze, but you think too much.”

“Stop.” We were both quiet for a time. “You hurt me once, please... don’t do it again. Why did you really go through all this?”

“Your love was fading,” Gossamer finally said. “You were too broken, too wounded by your past love. You feared I was going to break you like she did.”

“But you did.”

“No. I have saved you.” She tilted her head, emerald eyes locked forth on mine. “You have been happy to come home every day. Your dreams have been sweet, and so very, very passionate, that you have broken my spell, broken your shield against those who seek to hurt you.”

“Who?” I cried out as I tumbled into the bed with her. “Who would hurt us?”

“Your own kind would have done it, Bronze. Ponies are too distrustful and hurtful with each other, and far more against other races on this earth. They don’t appreciate my kind, because they think us demons who taint their lands and offer nothing in return. But I have been all more than giving, don’t you think?”

I pressed up to her and smelled her mane; she was still the same mare from long ago. I pulled back again and peered into her eyes. “What you’ve given me is a chance to do what I failed to do before.” She gasped as my hooves swung around her and pulled her close. “Please, just let me love you.”

Gossamer stared into my eyes as we held one another. “But you’ll let them know, Bronze...”

“I won’t!”

You will. That was what you were going to do before.”

“Gossamer, I was going to marry you!”

She froze up at that. “You were going to...?”

“I w-wanted to make sure you weren’t going to leave me easy.” I chuckled morosely. “When I saw you that day, as you were now, I knew that we had to hide something together. I was going to marry you, and we were going to disappear into the crowds, out through the borders, and live and love in peace.”

“You know what I am, then?”

I nodded. “You’re not the monster you think you are.”

“Bronze… you don’t understand what Equestria would do to us if they—”

“To hay with Equestria, then!” I drew my face closer to hers. “Marry me, Gossamer. We can go out and live in the world like we did before. No more lies, no more hiding, just me and you, as it should be. Nopony will hurt us, and we won’t hurt each other.”

She pushed me away with both her forehooves. “I-I’m not the mare you think I am! How can you love me, still? You’ve been deceived!”

“I know that there’s more to what you said to me than just acting. It takes passion to be that good, Gossamer… and I’ve had a lot of time to think about my dreams; you’re passionate about me.” I gauged her reaction; she had nothing to say. “You know I’m right. I love you, even after all of this… you said you hurt me, and it was for a good reason, and I can get over that… can’t we get over that?”

She shivered beneath me and lowered her hooves. “Bronze… I… I can’t. You might love me still, but I can’t love you. As what I am… it isn’t right.”

“Why should that matter? Who’s to say what is and isn’t right?”

Gossamer’s mouth opened and shut a few times. She eventually shook her head. “The Hive. My true home. I’ve been hiding us from them for so long, but they know where we are now. My queen would be after the two of us, and you would be lost to the pods where others like you remain trapped and harvested for their love. I… I can’t let that happen to you, Bronze. You’ve put more trust in me than any pony I’ve ever met… that any changeling has ever met! More love and affection, and… and...!” With a gasp, her hooves finally closed the gap between us. “B-Bronze… do you really… do you truly love... me?”

“You are the mare I think you are. And I love you, even if you’ve been hiding ‘Gossamer’ on the inside, you’re still the mare I came to love. You might hide that from me, but I’ll always know and love you.”

Her mind spun in a daze, and so I slipped forth and I kissed her. This time, there was no resistance; her eyelids flickered briefly, but she slowly shut them. Strewn across her, I pressed further into the kiss. She was as sweet as the dreams had advised, and all too giving as she had said her own self. It had been almost a year since I had kissed my mare, but here I lay now kissing Gossamer.

We pulled apart carefully, watching one another as we caught our breath.

“I love you. I love you so much, Gossamer.” I nuzzled her gently. “No matter what happens now, we do it together, okay?”

“No more lies,” she whispered.

“Please,” I replied. “And no more lying to yourself.”

“Bronze…” Tears slipped down her neck as she rose to meet me once more. “I love you.”