I was dreaming, of a lot of things I dreamed, I dreamed of two small children. I didn't really recognize them but I instinctively knew that they were mine. They looked so much like their mother. They were playing around near the unlit hearth and my heart warmed a little, they looked so happy. I heard footsteps behind me and I turned, my face cracked wide open with a fond smile as I saw my wife walking toward me, a somber look on her face. I held out my arms reaching out to embrace her but she walked by me, more specifically she walked through me. I turned to watch her, completely bewildered.
"Where is papa?" My son, Will asked suddenly. I saw her eyes tighten as I walked around her to study her more closely. She looked tired, stressed, and ... melancholic. I had never seen such a deep sadness in her eyes.
"He- He's gone sweetie. He went to fight some bad people with your uncles and grandpa, to protect us but- he got hurt really bad and he can't come home, I'm sorry."
"Why can't he visit?" Patience asked in a small voice.
"Because he went to a different place, a place that is very far away. One day we can all go and stay with him forever, but not for a long, long time."
"Oh." They said in unison. They looked a little confused. I mirrored their confusion, my mind muddled and incoherent in this dream state.
Slowly the scene faded to one of a later date, I saw Will, much older now, maybe in his late teens or early twenties, wearing the bright colors of the Audux, I felt a small swell of pride rise in me upon seeing my son. He staring down a young woman in billowing burgundy robes I didn't recognize, she looked as if she were barely restraining herself from sinking the short sword that was in her hand into his chest while he looked like he wanted to do very much the same to her.
"Why are you here, keep to your own home and I will keep to mine?" He asked, moving to the balls of his feet in a ready fighting stance.
"Your uncle killed my father." I watched as My sons brow furrowed before a realization seemingly dawned on him and his expression cleared.
His voice was quiet, dangerously controlled.
"Then your father killed mine." He lunged forward and I reached out letting out a shout of protest, worry clenching my throat, but I was whisked away.
As black surrounded me I couldn't help but think I was dead. Then I felt something wiggle next to me, letting out a small agonized moan. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and I turned to see my wife, in our bed, in our room, in our home. I was not dead, those were just dreams and she was not in a state of deadening grief, but she was writhing in a very concerning manner.
She turned over in an agitated fashion groaning weakly, I saw tears leaking from the corners of her eyes and leaned forward preparing to take her shoulder in my grip when she suddenly cried out.
"No, please, he can't be gone." It was very faint but I heard the fathoms of emotion behind the words. This time I did not hesitate even when she was thrashing miserably when my hands grazed her. I sat up and pulled her into my lap, and she continued to cry and thrash, though with less vigor now, whether from my sudden closeness or her increasing wakefulness it did not matter. Sweat beaded on her brow and when I soothed down her mussed hair my fingers came away damp. I began rocking gently from side to side, humming low in my throat as I rested my chin on her beautiful head, hoping the vibration in my chest would help rouse her from her fit. I rubbed comforting circles on her back as I continued to rock. She gripped my shirt in her fists as if letting go of me would mean the end of her world, as if I were her anchor while an endless and unforgiving storm surged around her, I suppose, in a way, I was. The maelstrom of her mind seemed to lessen but in place of the terrified thrashing she began to shake alarmingly.
I wrapped both of my arms around her and held her tightly as she suddenly jolted and froze, even her breathing stopped, the only thing about her that moved was her intense heart rate that fluttered wildly beneath my hands. Her grip tightened on my shirt and she tugged as if wanting me to be closer than I already was. I looked down and saw her eyes fixed on the bed post beside us, her usually expressive green eyes fogged with a sleeping horror that had somehow stalked into her wakefulness, I saw it, lurking in her fresh memory, wreaking havoc in her head. Perspiration continued to streak her skin, which had gotten ruddy from her lack of oxygen. I raised my hand to her forehead and her feverish deadened eyes grazed over my cheek before reluctantly meeting my gaze.
"Breathe my dove." I said in a gentle tone, she took a deep breath in, and as she exhaled she burst into tears, sobs wracked her body and she leaned forward, turning her head to smother them in my chest. Her hands snaked around me and clutched me, as if I were a precious thing that she had just lost. I pulled her further into my embrace, wishing that I could squeeze all of the sadness out of her soul simply by virtue of hugging her. It felt comparable to hugging a flame, her skin radiating a sick heat, as if her body was attempting to expel the memory of what she had seen.
"You left me" She burbled into my shoulder. "You were so cold."
"Rosiline, dove, I'm here, look." I took one of her trembling hands in mine and pressed it to my chest. "Right here, dove, right here with you." I took an exaggerated breath and held it at the climax letting her feel my heartbeat beneath her fingers. She quieted slightly and leaned back. She lifted her clammy hands to caress my face while tears still ran in torrents down hers. Her eyes remained feverish, bloodshot, but thankfully not dead. Her hands traveled down my body until she pressed on a spot on my side, just beneath my ribs. She exhaled, in apparent relief before keeling forward into me once again, breathing in my scent and curling in on herself. I felt the heat of her radiating through the fabric on my shirt.
"The children?" She asked.
"Slept through it." She sighed and curled closer hugging me to her chest.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
I felt her shake her head. I hugged her tighter. if she didn't want to tell me then it must be damned near unbearable.
"Alright then." I leaned down a little and kissed the top of her head, letting it linger.
"Are you tired?" I asked as she yawed loudly next to my shoulder. She tensed.
"I'll be right here." I said, brushing her brown hair out of her face, the cold sweat of hr brow collecting on my fingertips.
"You won't leave?"
"No, never." She nodded and slid from my lap, and let me lay beside her before she curled up taking in the front of my shirt in her hands again. I pulled the blanket that had fallen to the end of the bed back over us. I sighed as I draped my arm over her. Her head settled against my chest and we both nodded off again.
