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

[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