A/N: Response to the Seanfhocal Challenge # 12: Bridging the Gap on the Dancing Dove.
0o0
Outside, the sky was blue and the sun was shining, a mocking contrast to the sadness that reverberated through the castle. Black crepe was hung and the halls were eerily silent. Sobs of grief could be heard from a few rooms and nothing, it seemed, would hush them. Gossip was softly exchanged and rumors sprung. But only a few words were needed to reveal the sorrow of the city that knew a death had occurred.
Prince Roald placed a hand on Liam's shoulder and his brother nodded his face blank. Shinkokami stood beside her husband, offering what little comfort she could. Lianne, clutching a handkerchief in trembling hands, sniffed and turned away as Thayet closed her eyes and bowed her head.
Thom of Pirates Swoop stood with his friend and his siblings, hazel-green eyes dry. Other friends, dressed in black, stood at the foot of a bed trying to hold back tears. The figure was laid in a peaceful posture, hands crossed over at the wrist, on the chest. The figure's skin was as white as porcelain, betraying the look of slumber that the closed eyes created.
0o0
The figure walked as the Black God led. Through a long tunnel they tread, silent the entire way. The tunnel was jarringly silent, steps echoing in the darkness, after the last memory: The shattering of a cup and worried voices. It was the only memory present at the moment. If there was such a thing as time here between Life and Death, the figure didn't know…or didn't remember.
A hand came into the figure's line of vision and the figure unconsciously took it, the stranger's hand glowing with magic. Looking up, the figure was met with a warm gaze and a smile, "So you've finally come to see me after all these years…." The stranger said, leading the way down the tunnel. "I knew you would someday…"
0o0
Alanna sat up, gasping, sweating through her nightclothes. All she knew was that she had seen someone reach out, hand glowing with the Gift, and…it had to be just a dream—a nightmare.
Had she really witnessed her own death? No…if she had she would have recognized the face, purposely hidden in shadows.
Had she really seen her brother? She hadn't seen his face, but she had recognized his voice, even after all this time. It had been in nightmares of his death that she kept having years before. It just couldn't have been him. It had to just be her mind, yes, her mind playing tricks on her.
Standing and, careful not to wake George, she quietly walked to the privy and splashed cold water on her face, sighing as she grumbled about dreams. Climbing back into bed, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. But sleep refused to come and every time she closed her eyes, remnants of the dream played…
Suddenly, a chilly hand brushed over her arm and she shivered in the dark. Letting a little of her Gift fill her hand, she held it over her hand and cold sweat formed on her brow. There, standing in the dark, only illuminated by the amethyst light, stood her brother.
He had been dead for almost twenty-one years. Counting this year.
"So you've finally come to see me after all these years…." He whispered, "In a dream..."
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A/N: I was first thinking I should put Jon in the dream, but then I decided to leave it, for a little surprise.