dream

Her mother stood in the doorway of her room. She was a beautiful woman. Her skin was honey-colored. Her hair, once dark brown but now greying, was braided around her head, like a crown. Her dress was simple, but its heavy fabric was deep dark green. Her amber eyes were fierce as always. "I wish to speak to you."  

Glaenis was startled by her words. "Yes, mother." She said, with a slight frown. It was unusual, this kind of invasion, and it never meant something pleasant.

The ground was thick with snow, but it wasn’t cold. Brord was laid out in front of her, just as when Gaeded had sat by him after he’d died. She stoked his mane as she did then too, running her gloved fingers through the strands. She felt the ache of sadness in her, knowing that she’d never see him again. She stood up, the snow crunching under her pointed leather shoes. She stepped back, looking around the where the corpse of the giant that killed her steed. But it wasn’t there.

Gilsel lay on the bed beside him, on him in part, and he hugged her tightly against his side. Since she had taken the habit of sleeping with him, and furthermore since they got married, he was finally able to sleep peacefully. That night, though, her soothing presence was not enough to dismiss a feeling of uneasiness, but he blamed that on the fact that it was one of the last nights they were going to spend in Bree-Land. For the next two weeks, at least.

Ornessar slept deeply, but his dreams were not pleasant. 

   I don't know what brought on such a dream, but last night I dreamt I saw Borimi in the flesh once more. I had left the forges, exiting through the gates and into the cool air of the night. Upon stepping out onto the open stairway he had come to greet me, calling me by name. 

—What do you see, Talgoy? —An odd voice speaks. Its voice doesn’t seems human, being too deep and with a raspy voice. After some seconds, Talgoy responds with a laconic voice.

Talgoy! Wake up... come on you lazy pup, wake up! —say an old voice as Talgoy started to open his eyes. When he see the face of an old and bearded man with a glass eye on his right he immediately yells, freaked out.

The girl paused her writing as the anger had taken over her heart again. A tear had dropped on the page and spread the ink. She quickly placed away her quill, for she feared that she would snap it in half, and got up from the chair. She looked around in her tiny room for a moment before she walked to a window and looked outside.