A/N: This is just a little idea that came to me while looking at Virgil's Aeneid. The Latin is from the thelatinlibrary website and the translation is from the poetryintranslation website. I do not own inception or the Aeneid.
I would also like to thank for Hot Chocolatte for previewing this and making me post it.
Sunt geminae Somni portae, quarum altera fertur
cornea, qua ueris facilis datur exitus umbris,
altera candenti perfecta nitens elephanto,
sed falsa ad caelum mittunt insomnia Manes.
Dreams were for the innocent. Dreams were for those whose hands were clean of the PASIV. She joked once that it was only fitting that they lost the ability to naturally dream since they violated the dreams of others. Dreams were sacred and she had long since lost hers.
They pushed the limits of the dream world. The pushed and pushed until they could push no more, until they spent a lifetime inside a dream. When they returned from their lifetime together, she dreamed on her own for the first time in a long time. It was one singular dream that would plague her.
She would find herself sitting next to Him in an empty cabin of a moving train. The shades of the windows would be pulled down and no matter how hard she would try they would not lift to reveal where she was. He never spoke. The train would blow its whistle and slow to a stop. Once completely stopped a door with the words EXIT in bright red letters above it would open and He would take her hand and lead her off the train. As her feet made contact with the soft green grass the train would disappear behind them and they would be standing before two great gates. And every night He would, without a word, walk through the same gate and she would follow him through that gate of Ivory back into the waking world.
She would plead with him every time she woke but every time he would look at her through guilt filled eyes. They argued daily because he couldn't see, she cried, he couldn't see what she saw.
The cool night air blew through her hair and she closed her eyes as he pleaded with her. She was tired of walking through the Ivory gate. As she slipped silently from the edge her mind pleaded:
'Please, Dom, follow me through this gate of horn.'
There are two gates of Sleep: one of which is said to be of horn,
through which an easy passage is given to true shades, the other
gleams with the whiteness of polished ivory, but through it
the Gods of the Dead send false dreams to the world above.