Legends

Chapter 8~ Dreams

She dreamed of Belfast. She dreamed of the rolling green hills. The brick homes of her thousands of men. Her creators who had given life to her through their hands, their hopes, and their faith in a better tomorrow. She dreamed of the gentle swells of the River Lagan, where she had first felt the sea's touch. She felt the thrum of life within the yard, the scurry of men like an army of ants, working to build their nest. And serve their Queen. Waiting on her every whim. She remembered the first time she ever put to sea, the life within her coming awake for the first time as her screws pushed her bulk through the water. Her bow dancing on the swells, a harmony of motion between ship and sea. A dance that no man could understand. A dance sacred to ships alone. She remembers passing her first test and her sister's pride at her achievement. She remembers the hopes of those seeking a better life. The desires of the wealthy. She remembers the dreams of everyone who was with her. She is the Ship of Dreams after all.

But she also remembers the darkness. And the cold that put her there. She remembers the pain of collision and the foreign sensation of the sea within her hull. She remembers the agony of the last hours of her life. As her hull took strain it was never designed to withstand. It was relief she felt when her back broke. She felt nothing after that. She could not sense more beyond the cold. She remembers the screams and it was those screams that brought her back. As the people left behind after her passing begged for her return. A cry she could never refuse. For what good it did in the end.

She remembers emerging into her new life, numb with cold and sick with shame. She remembers Carpathia's loving but futile kindness. She does not remember arriving in New York, nor how she avoided testifying in the inquiries, although both American and British governments sent out subpoena's for her. She does not remember her first job in America, nor her second one. All she remembers is her decision to stay in her new home. And never return to Britain or Belfast again. She does return to the former eventually. The events of the World Wars calling her to service. She remembers serving with some of those who she had known from That Night, reunited aboard her tragic little sister. She remembers watching Britannic go down, her own cowardice preventing her from following. She remembers the death of her first husband, not that she cared much for him. He provided her with a cover to live by and the wealth to stay near the sea. It is her second husband who she misses the most. His presence is what kept her stable in the years where the fleet she loved, the line she loved, was absorbed. And her only remaining sister sent to an unmarked grave. She remembers her daughters with fondness. Queens like their mother, a mother they would never know. For she had left them as she had left her husband, unable to reconcile with what she was. That she would outlive them all. A fact that was partially right. Her husband had died in the eighties. And she knew enough to learn he had remarried and had three sons. Her daughters were just as mortal as he although they took after their mother. One had perished in flames in a land far from her home. The other was not much more than floating corpse in California. Tegran had never had the stomach to visit her, despite her many opportunities.

As always her dreams ended with a final image of what might have been. Of her, her daughters and their father together sailing aboard her hull. Her sisters in procession beside her with the whole of White Star following. A proud moment, a memory that would never be.

...

She dreamed of fire. For fire was what had consumed her. She held no grudges, no anger against those who's incompetence had caused this disaster. She had been bred to serve the rich and wealthy but had found a new way to serve those who needed her the most. Normandie did not regret her life or her death. She was happy to serve in any capacity she could, forever grateful to her adopted country for getting her out of that mess in Europe.

Her dreams changed as her thoughts turned to an individual who was beginning to work her way into her heart. Tegran was no ordinary human. The captain was strong, feisty, and with a brilliance that only a kanmusu could match. Her green eyes reflected experience and wisdom. Wisdom earned through hard times. She was very tight lipped about her past, a fact that made her all the more attractive to Normandie. Normandie loved people. She loved to learn more about them and Tegran's mystery drew out the eager lover in the French ship.

She dreamed of Tegran.