Disclaimer: I dont own any of the characters or places or anything else you recognize, they all belong to Trudi canavan and I'm just having some fun. ^^
Summary: In which Sonea dreams of forgotten memories and Akkarin relives them.
A/N: Just something I cooked up, not too long or meaningful but still...who cares? Each little piece is of a different character and I haven't read the BMT is awhile so sorry if somethings are abit off. Think this might take place in The Notice at some point..Oh and sorry for any spelling miss-ups and what-not...Opps...;P
Update-17/6/11.
I. Memories and Dreams.
"There are lots of people who mistake their imagination for their memory." ~Josh Billings
Sometimes she would imagine she still knew what her mother had looked like. Sometimes she dreams she still knew the sound of her voice.
"Your mother was a beautiful woman. Both inside and out, 'til she met that useless excuse of a man…but she had always remained beautiful…"
She can't remember what her mother looked like and she has never been told she looked like her; therefore she has never thought herself beautiful.
But she dreams.
She dreams of dark eyes and flowing hair and of a flawless complexion and full lips. When she wakes, she no longer can remember what the woman in her dream had looked like and she wonders if she's from memory or imagined.
She doesn't dream often and when she does they are quickly forgotten. She has no time for such things. Dreams are for children and she is no longer a child but when she does fall into that mist of sleep with her mind still running; she dreams of a family, a mother to love her, that she never had and of beauty, she will never see, that doesn't belong to her.
Sonea does not dream much and she is grateful for it; dreams only make her wish the waking world was a little bit more beautiful and simple.
There had been nights, he will admit, that he had woken in a tremulous panic, sweat on his brow and a cry on his lips. There had been days, he knows within his heart, that he longed to feel that freeness he had felt all those years ago when he realised he had evaded Kariko, escaped Dakova's slavery and made it home.
There were times when is mind drifted back to nights he'd slept on the bare ground with nothing but a thin blanket for him to share with seven other slaves. Nights he'd shut out her sobs and Dakova's pleasure and dreamt of his childhood. Days he's followed orders, head touching the ground when called upon, starving and thirsty, having his mind broken into and every thought used against him…
Akkarin knew that despite it being years ago, Sachaka had not left him. Nor would it ever, not matter how much Anuren dark he consumed.
No, Sachaka had never left him and there were nights he dreamt he still lay on that cold ground with blood drumming in his ears and anger in his heart.
I fell in love with Akkarin...always do when I read the books...