OOM: Dream

[politestpirate]

Wellard does not dream much. When he does, it is all bits and pieces, randomly, of places he has been to-

(The trip on board the Pearl did a lot to add to his mental atlas.)

Mixed with people he knows or has only met in passing.

Tonight, oddly enough, he seems to be back in Kent, walking past old hedgerows that seemed just as tall as when he had been 12, and passing through scattered groves of trees-

It takes a while, for Wellard to realize, that the trees have grown taller and more dense. It is now an old forest that the path moves through, empty and quiet, with the occasional lamppost lighting the shadows.

Wellard has never been here before, so even in the dream, there is a bit of confusion and apprehension as he keeps walking.

Comments

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard raises an eyebrow, looking at the Rider.

"But its one I do not know- and this is a dream. This forest isn't in any world, so I can't really have lost my way. I'm just wondering what place it is supposed to be like."

He smiles wryly, and shrugs.

"Where I'm from was made to look like Scotland, but it isn't.

[takiena_called]

There's a flicker of confusion in the Rider's eyes, and Iselen shifts restlessly. The hand that goes to calm her blurs into smoke for a while.

"You are from a place on Earth, then--this is likely near by." He explains, before asking "A dream?" the wind-voice sounds confused. The Hunt does not dream, not now that they have access to the sky.

And the Child was never confined in the cave.

(He dreamt, before, and he knows it--but he cannot remember what before was, much less what he saw in the night.)

(Someone heard things in the night, though, a part of him [larger than it would be in the waking world, but the Child doesn't dream] remembers. He was supposed to protect that person.)

(He can't remember why.)

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard nods slowly, biting his lip. "A dream, yes. All I really know is Earth, so this place should be close to it, and... it would be close by. However such things work."

"... Where are you from, that you don't know of dreams?"

[takiena_called]

The Child's expression is disturbed, because this is wrong and the Child does not know why. The Hunt does not often face problems that cannot be solved with violence, and those they do Owein takes care of.

"I have Iselen, the sky, and my brother kings--what need would I have for dreams?" The Rider sounds uncertain, though a strong joy runs beneath it.

(The Hunt is life, and the Hunt is better than before.

Whatever before was.

It is).

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard blinks, and raises an eyebrow. "Everyone dreams. Its... memories and thinking of new things, and all everything else in your mind. Your hopes and fears and.... so on." He bites his lip, and shrugs.

"Ah... then, if I may ask- what is your name, sir?"

[takiena_called]

"I am the Child of the Wild Hunt, Iselen's Rider," says the mist-outlined boy, sounding confident once more. "And who are you to ask, mortal man?"

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

... Wild Hunt.

Wellard has heard stories. None of them were particularly good.

However, it is a bit too late to run now, so he takes a deep breath, and squares his shoulders.

"Henry Wellard."

[takiena_called]

The Hunt (they rode through all the worlds...back when the world was young) is not in the habit of making (have to teach him to throw a snowball properly) friends.

But that name (Enry Welyd) is familiar.

"What?" Iselen's Rider says, sounding particularly young and maybe (almost) familiar.

(If Iselen's Rider was thinking properly, Wellard would be in danger. This is no longer amusing.)

(But Iselen's Rider isn't thinking properly.)

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Young and (very) familiar.

Wellard looks at him sharply.

(The Longest Road)








"Finn?"

[takiena_called]

Iselen and her Rider were already backing uneasily away, uncertainty warring with the coal-brightness of the Rider's eyes.

This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong. He has no brother kings to stand beside him, for this is a dream and the Hunt does not dream. The Child is armed, but alone, and not ready for this. Nothing should be a threat to him and yet...

(Thank you, Henry)

...and yet there is fear, and uncertainty. At the name he turns Iselen around and, for the first time, one of the Wild Hunt flees from a mortal man into the sky.

(All of the Child still mortal enough to dream feels young, so young, and wants to cry and cling to some comforting warmth. He doesn't think it will help this horrible feeling, and he thinks somehow he is too old to weep.

The night is cold, though, and there is no one here besides Iselen. His few wayward tears fall into her white, white mane.)

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard is hardly a threat- Nor is he afraid, at this moment. Certainly not afraid of the Child or of the Wild Hunt-

But maybe afraid for the confusion and panic he saw for a moment in the coal-brightness of the eyes that looked remarkably like Finn's for a few moments.

There is no way to go after him-

In this dream he cannot fly. All Wellard can do is watch the Child and Iselen disappear into the night sky among the stars-

And worry and wonder about Finn before