((Immediately follows Once Upon A Dream.))
The dream, vision, memory - whatever it was - left Jason shaken. It wasn't everyday you dreamt of another lifetime, one that was bittersweet and tragic and ended in a painful, violent death - at least, for him - or more accurately for the man he'd once been. Marcellus Theodoris. It was a lot for a man who usually required proof to absorb, but there was no denying what he'd just seen - or more accurately, experienced. It didn't feel like a dream at all; it felt more like a memory.
There were parts of it that were beautiful and parts that were terrifying, but the overall feeling that permeated the dream - and the message that Vesta seemed to be sending - was the unshakable awareness that he and Bethany had been together before and would be together again.
He looked at her in wonder as they both stirred to wakefulness, as if seeing her with new eyes and falling in love with her all over again. She was Silvia and Bethany and all the others who might have lived between that first lifetime and this one. He knew almost without asking that he had not been alone in the dream. There was that same look of wonder and awe mirrored in her sleepy eyes, but still he had to ask, he had to know for sure that it had really happened; that it hadn't just been a dream. "Beth..." he whispered, the dream so fresh in his heart and head that he almost called her by that other name - his beloved Silvia.
Beth had lain by his side since they'd woken, staring up at the ceiling as the lingering pain and loneliness of Silvia's death had faded from her mind. She couldn't quite believe it; that she had been someone else in another life, that Jason had been hers in that other life. She knew it was him, though Marcellus had not shared much in the way of looks with him. But the soul ....promised and bonded to hers by a goddess" She blinked, hearing her name, and realized she was looking into Jason's eyes, not quite able to bring herself to say anything with much coherence. "I ....what was that?"
"I was hoping you could tell me," he replied, presuming they had shared the experience. He couldn't quite bring himself to call it a dream. "Did you..." His voice trailed off, teeth gnawing at the corner of his mouth. He had seen her death - Silvia's death - though he could not have been there, and the thought of it, of knowing she had suffered such a horrible death made his heart ache with sadness. "I'm so sorry, Beth," he whispered, his voice strained with the emotions that seemed to spill over from the dream.
Where Silvia would have reached out to comfort her Marcellus by touch, Beth paused, holding his gaze with quiet understanding. "Don't be," she told him quietly. "Silvia ....I ....she accepted it. She welcomed it, knowing she would see him again. See you again." She rolled to him suddenly, curling her arm around his neck as her lips touched his cheek, recalling the witnessing of Marcellus' terrible death. "Baby, it must have been so painful ..."
As for him, he couldn't help but not touch her, needing to touch her, to prove to himself that she was real and not just a dream like the one he'd just had. His thumb brushed her cheek, so warm and so soft and so very real. He stifled a shudder at the mention of his own death, the painful memory of it slowly fading, slowly losing its grasp on his waking mind. "It was quick," he said, remembering the bitter taste of the hemlock and the feeling of disconnectedness it had given him. It had made the pain almost bearable and had hastened the end. At least, he'd had that. He knew she had not. "Beth, I..." He trailed off again, as those same emotions threatened again, like a storm slowly rolling in from far off.
At least it was quick. That is a blessing, in itself. She was a little surprised at how easily she had absorbed the reality she had experienced of Silvia's slow starvation, trapped and all alone in the darkness, so far beneath the city that she couldn't even hear the passing of carts over the stones of the street above. But she couldn't imagine the agony he must have felt watching it. Her own pain at watching him die by the lash - watching Marcellus die by the lash - was more immediate than the memory of Silvia's pain. Her palm cupped his cheek, nuzzling gently to his cheek. "Dad was right," she murmured, regretting having laughed in her father's face when he'd presented them with his theory. Another memory rose in her mind; a memory of a powerful presence, a sadness older than time for an injustice done in a sister's name. "Do ....do you think that really was a goddess?"
There was that all-too familiar feeling of guilt and remorse when he thought of her death, but they were free now. All of that was in distant past and could no longer hurt them. He searched her eyes, seeing a little of Silvia there in those warm depths. She was not Silvia - she was Bethany now - and yet, there was some part of her that had once been the Vestal Virgin, and he knew there must be a part of him that had once been the Roman centurion. His brows furrowed as his thoughts turned to the all-too brief memory of the goddess, lovely and otherworldly and filled with sadness at their plight. "I have no other explanation."
She nodded slowly, understanding the sense of oddness that came with remembering the touch of Vesta on both their minds and their souls. "Neither do I," she admitted softly, settling back against the softness of the pillows with a gentle sigh. "I don't know what to think of this. I didn't even question whether or not you saw what I saw, I just knew you did." A faint snort escaped her as her lips curved slightly. "At least now we know why we're both so paranoid about losing each other."
Like Marcellus all those years ago - centuries ago - he was at a loss for words, unsure how to tell her all he was feeling, all he was thinking. He had lost her once. What had happened after that' How many lifetimes had they spent together? Had they been happy' No one lived forever, and yet, if the goddess had kept her promise, it seemed they had found each other again and again, just as they had in this lifetime and presumably would until the end of time. He furrowed his brows again, deep in thought, as if the logical part of his brain was trying to sort it all out. There had been other lifetimes, too, he thought. He'd caught glimpses of them, snatches of this memory or that when they'd crossed through the portal and in dreams ever since. "I know what I saw, Beth. I can't explain it, but I know it was real."
The dream, vision, memory - whatever it was - left Jason shaken. It wasn't everyday you dreamt of another lifetime, one that was bittersweet and tragic and ended in a painful, violent death - at least, for him - or more accurately for the man he'd once been. Marcellus Theodoris. It was a lot for a man who usually required proof to absorb, but there was no denying what he'd just seen - or more accurately, experienced. It didn't feel like a dream at all; it felt more like a memory.
There were parts of it that were beautiful and parts that were terrifying, but the overall feeling that permeated the dream - and the message that Vesta seemed to be sending - was the unshakable awareness that he and Bethany had been together before and would be together again.
He looked at her in wonder as they both stirred to wakefulness, as if seeing her with new eyes and falling in love with her all over again. She was Silvia and Bethany and all the others who might have lived between that first lifetime and this one. He knew almost without asking that he had not been alone in the dream. There was that same look of wonder and awe mirrored in her sleepy eyes, but still he had to ask, he had to know for sure that it had really happened; that it hadn't just been a dream. "Beth..." he whispered, the dream so fresh in his heart and head that he almost called her by that other name - his beloved Silvia.
Beth had lain by his side since they'd woken, staring up at the ceiling as the lingering pain and loneliness of Silvia's death had faded from her mind. She couldn't quite believe it; that she had been someone else in another life, that Jason had been hers in that other life. She knew it was him, though Marcellus had not shared much in the way of looks with him. But the soul ....promised and bonded to hers by a goddess" She blinked, hearing her name, and realized she was looking into Jason's eyes, not quite able to bring herself to say anything with much coherence. "I ....what was that?"
"I was hoping you could tell me," he replied, presuming they had shared the experience. He couldn't quite bring himself to call it a dream. "Did you..." His voice trailed off, teeth gnawing at the corner of his mouth. He had seen her death - Silvia's death - though he could not have been there, and the thought of it, of knowing she had suffered such a horrible death made his heart ache with sadness. "I'm so sorry, Beth," he whispered, his voice strained with the emotions that seemed to spill over from the dream.
Where Silvia would have reached out to comfort her Marcellus by touch, Beth paused, holding his gaze with quiet understanding. "Don't be," she told him quietly. "Silvia ....I ....she accepted it. She welcomed it, knowing she would see him again. See you again." She rolled to him suddenly, curling her arm around his neck as her lips touched his cheek, recalling the witnessing of Marcellus' terrible death. "Baby, it must have been so painful ..."
As for him, he couldn't help but not touch her, needing to touch her, to prove to himself that she was real and not just a dream like the one he'd just had. His thumb brushed her cheek, so warm and so soft and so very real. He stifled a shudder at the mention of his own death, the painful memory of it slowly fading, slowly losing its grasp on his waking mind. "It was quick," he said, remembering the bitter taste of the hemlock and the feeling of disconnectedness it had given him. It had made the pain almost bearable and had hastened the end. At least, he'd had that. He knew she had not. "Beth, I..." He trailed off again, as those same emotions threatened again, like a storm slowly rolling in from far off.
At least it was quick. That is a blessing, in itself. She was a little surprised at how easily she had absorbed the reality she had experienced of Silvia's slow starvation, trapped and all alone in the darkness, so far beneath the city that she couldn't even hear the passing of carts over the stones of the street above. But she couldn't imagine the agony he must have felt watching it. Her own pain at watching him die by the lash - watching Marcellus die by the lash - was more immediate than the memory of Silvia's pain. Her palm cupped his cheek, nuzzling gently to his cheek. "Dad was right," she murmured, regretting having laughed in her father's face when he'd presented them with his theory. Another memory rose in her mind; a memory of a powerful presence, a sadness older than time for an injustice done in a sister's name. "Do ....do you think that really was a goddess?"
There was that all-too familiar feeling of guilt and remorse when he thought of her death, but they were free now. All of that was in distant past and could no longer hurt them. He searched her eyes, seeing a little of Silvia there in those warm depths. She was not Silvia - she was Bethany now - and yet, there was some part of her that had once been the Vestal Virgin, and he knew there must be a part of him that had once been the Roman centurion. His brows furrowed as his thoughts turned to the all-too brief memory of the goddess, lovely and otherworldly and filled with sadness at their plight. "I have no other explanation."
She nodded slowly, understanding the sense of oddness that came with remembering the touch of Vesta on both their minds and their souls. "Neither do I," she admitted softly, settling back against the softness of the pillows with a gentle sigh. "I don't know what to think of this. I didn't even question whether or not you saw what I saw, I just knew you did." A faint snort escaped her as her lips curved slightly. "At least now we know why we're both so paranoid about losing each other."
Like Marcellus all those years ago - centuries ago - he was at a loss for words, unsure how to tell her all he was feeling, all he was thinking. He had lost her once. What had happened after that' How many lifetimes had they spent together? Had they been happy' No one lived forever, and yet, if the goddess had kept her promise, it seemed they had found each other again and again, just as they had in this lifetime and presumably would until the end of time. He furrowed his brows again, deep in thought, as if the logical part of his brain was trying to sort it all out. There had been other lifetimes, too, he thought. He'd caught glimpses of them, snatches of this memory or that when they'd crossed through the portal and in dreams ever since. "I know what I saw, Beth. I can't explain it, but I know it was real."