Broken SlumberMature

My slumber ceased the burning in my bones, and replaced it with bitter, ruthless cold which stole my breath and jabbed me to the bone.   I was in a field, with snow falling around me, my breath tiny clouds hanging onto my lips.   The world was faded to a calming shade of grey. I lay in the snow, feeling the snow bite me back, feeling my pulse slow. Suddenly,  a warmth, like a blanket, surrounded me, protecting me from the cold, and I could feel a warm hand on my hair. I reached up, and scolded myself for believing in my dreams again. I was a fool to believe she could ever love me.  I lowered my hand, and watched with weary eyes as words fell from the sky with the flakes.  They comforted me, told me it would be okay.  I let them seep into me, rekindling the hope I could feel. I suddenly longed for my piano, something I had not seen in years. I had not felt the urge to play as I had now, not ever.  Then, the curious sensation of a kiss on my brow froze me.  It could not be real. My mind was evading my location with fantasies of kinship.  

Then, my dream was torn from me as they pulled me awake, threw me to the centre of the room. From their faces,  I appeared to have missed a conversation, not ending well for Catherine. She stood, chagrined, to my left, while the others tied me up.  I couldn't look her in the eye, not after my dream.  Then, they began. Questions, nonstop questions. They pulled at my hair, whispered in my ears. The people themselves were calm, detatched. They did not touch me once. But the questions did their work for them. I could not answer a single one. My pride and my burns to my mouth meant I could not move my lips. The answers bubbled up beneath my tongue. Yes, I was high ranking.  My name is Noah. I was an Old One. Yes, we want war. Yes, I meant to start the war. No, I'm not a barbaric pig.I didn't mean to kill your leader- it was an accident.  And one needled at my teeth, an answer I did not dredge from my mind but came anyway. Yes, I think I love her. 

They grew tired of my silence.  One moved to me, to strike me, maybe, or intimidate me, but I would never know. At that moment, Catherine tried to walk away, and fell, the red carpet impeding her descent. She fell at my feet, her scent filling my nostrils.  I couldn't help but inhale.  She smelled of the sea- of salt and high tide. She smelled of life.  They threw me aside, like a doll. From my vantage point on the floor, I watched them carry her out, carefully, oh so carefully, her grey eyes unseeing. Her hair trailed down like a banner. I knew she was not dead. I had heard her heartbeat throughout the questions,  throughout the fussing and nursing.  Still a tear crept unbidded from my eye, and trailed to the floor, unseen by the wolves. Unseen by anyone. 

The End

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