Ewan?s dreams had formed through the night as they normally did; half elements of real life mixed into improbable situations or melding into other things or people. It danced between dark and light, but nothing stirred him out of his slumber. Ewan lay near Storm in their bed as night drew into deep morning.
Then She was there, just as he had seen her before. She looked at him with such sad eyes, as solid and real as if he could touch her. His Mistress Death.
Ewan jolted upright and bright awake in bed, and instantly hated himself for doing it knowing it would likely disturb his wife.
Storm's dreams and memories were silent as she slept peacefully beside her husband. She had long ago adapted from waking up crisp and alert at any given time. Her comfort beside her husband and within her home provided all the security she deemed necessary for to avoid a fitful rest.
So when Ewan jolted upright in bed, it snapped her from slumber, tensing her muscles for something unexpected. While her body responded properly, her brain was nowhere near being crisp and awake, "Hmm, Ewan?" Her tone was raspy and confused as she shook her head against her pillow, like it would shake away her sleepiness.
He let out a slow breath, one hand went to rest light upon Storm's shoulder. "I am sorry, beloved. Sleep, it was nothing." He lay back down, arm behind his head on the soft pillow, and knew rest would not come back to him. The sight of Her in his dream had set his heart to racing and his mind spun with the meaning. Why should he have seen Her?
Storm relaxed instantly with the reassuring touch, but did not believe that nothing had woken him up. Ewan never had no reason or purpose to his actions, even in slumber. When he was awake, there was a reason for it. She cleared her throat, and forced her eyes open, "What is it, beloved?" Her voice still rasp with sleep and unuse, was still gentle. Her hand sought out in the darkness to soothingly run through his hair.
The touch of her fingers in his hair was indeed soothing, and it steadied his heartbeat. But it did not drive the image from behind his eyes. When he blinked the afterimage was still there. Part of him wanted to tell her. To let her know was to ease concern in some fashion away from the unknown. And yet he had not mentioned his Mistress Death so long and rare at that. Ever it had been in joking terms. What fears would it cause if he spoke of Death's call in a serious state? "It was just a startling dream. Mmm.." he smiled at the continued touch, "that feels good, beloved."
Storm frowned slightly. It was not a usual occurrence for Ewan to mention his dreams, much less be disturbed out of slumber by them. While keeping her hand in his hair, she closed the distance between them and rested her forehead against his, "I am sorry." Many nights Ewan had stayed awake with her through her own troubling dreams and memories, patiently easing her away from them. She would treat it just as tenderly, "Shall I get you a glass of water?" She moved to kiss his forehead lightly.
"No, thank you. I am well." His voice caught on the last word. He wondered how long he would be well, and if his time had come. Where would it be that She would finally call him out of Her service and into Her dark company? "You should rest, Storm. Avery and Kellan will not give us quarter from their liveliness because of a bad dream." He found a smile in his bag of tricks to offer and returned the kiss to her forehead, but his arm wrapped around her and drew her close to him just to feel that nearness.
Then She was there, just as he had seen her before. She looked at him with such sad eyes, as solid and real as if he could touch her. His Mistress Death.
Ewan jolted upright and bright awake in bed, and instantly hated himself for doing it knowing it would likely disturb his wife.
Storm's dreams and memories were silent as she slept peacefully beside her husband. She had long ago adapted from waking up crisp and alert at any given time. Her comfort beside her husband and within her home provided all the security she deemed necessary for to avoid a fitful rest.
So when Ewan jolted upright in bed, it snapped her from slumber, tensing her muscles for something unexpected. While her body responded properly, her brain was nowhere near being crisp and awake, "Hmm, Ewan?" Her tone was raspy and confused as she shook her head against her pillow, like it would shake away her sleepiness.
He let out a slow breath, one hand went to rest light upon Storm's shoulder. "I am sorry, beloved. Sleep, it was nothing." He lay back down, arm behind his head on the soft pillow, and knew rest would not come back to him. The sight of Her in his dream had set his heart to racing and his mind spun with the meaning. Why should he have seen Her?
Storm relaxed instantly with the reassuring touch, but did not believe that nothing had woken him up. Ewan never had no reason or purpose to his actions, even in slumber. When he was awake, there was a reason for it. She cleared her throat, and forced her eyes open, "What is it, beloved?" Her voice still rasp with sleep and unuse, was still gentle. Her hand sought out in the darkness to soothingly run through his hair.
The touch of her fingers in his hair was indeed soothing, and it steadied his heartbeat. But it did not drive the image from behind his eyes. When he blinked the afterimage was still there. Part of him wanted to tell her. To let her know was to ease concern in some fashion away from the unknown. And yet he had not mentioned his Mistress Death so long and rare at that. Ever it had been in joking terms. What fears would it cause if he spoke of Death's call in a serious state? "It was just a startling dream. Mmm.." he smiled at the continued touch, "that feels good, beloved."
Storm frowned slightly. It was not a usual occurrence for Ewan to mention his dreams, much less be disturbed out of slumber by them. While keeping her hand in his hair, she closed the distance between them and rested her forehead against his, "I am sorry." Many nights Ewan had stayed awake with her through her own troubling dreams and memories, patiently easing her away from them. She would treat it just as tenderly, "Shall I get you a glass of water?" She moved to kiss his forehead lightly.
"No, thank you. I am well." His voice caught on the last word. He wondered how long he would be well, and if his time had come. Where would it be that She would finally call him out of Her service and into Her dark company? "You should rest, Storm. Avery and Kellan will not give us quarter from their liveliness because of a bad dream." He found a smile in his bag of tricks to offer and returned the kiss to her forehead, but his arm wrapped around her and drew her close to him just to feel that nearness.