LGW fantasy: Takes place early in Seeing Redd.
All my own imaginings.
More of Dodge's struggles with love and vengeance
Please Review!
~Enjoy!
TLD
Dream within a Dream
Take this kiss upon the brow, and in parting from you now, this much let me avow: You are not wrong who deem, that my days have been a dream. Yet if hope has flown away,in a night, or in a day, in a vision, or in none,is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream… Edgar Allan Poe
Dodge stood, bathed in moonlight streaming through the crystal pane window in his bedroom suite in the newly rebuilt Heart Palace, staring out into empty gardens below. As he did many nights when sleep eluded him, he paced the suite, his ever-vigilant body and eyes unable to rest, despite the fact that Redd and The Cat seemed to be gone.
Not gone. Dodge thought. Even though he'd seen them jump into the Heart Crystal, something no one had ever done before and there were no guarantees that they could have survived, Dodge knew – They'll be back. It's only a matter of time.
The dark outside fell into blackness as the moon passed behind a cloud, and instead of the expansive palace gardens, Dodge was confronted with his own reflection in the glass. Reflexively, he dropped his eyes. He wasn't a vain man by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, he so very rarely saw his reflection or thought about his appearance that when he would accidentally come across his reflection, the sight of his scars would slice into him almost as if they were cut anew. So, a strange habit had formed out of self-preservation. He had to prepare himself to see his own reflection.
Slowly he raised his eyes from the floor. His bare feet felt cold against the polished marbled floor. His soft light-colored sleeping pants appeared luminescent in the glass reflection. His hands, that felt so light when not wielding his sword, calloused from years of fighting, hung heavily at his sides. He watched his reflection bring a heavy hand to his chest, tracing the four parallel scars over his heart. His fingers touched the soft material of his thin nightshirt, but he could feel the raised scars beneath.
A sudden surge of vengeance consumed him. How dare The Cat escape through the Crystal and deny him his retribution! His body tensed with sudden restlessness. He should be out hunting down that feline freak, not standing around taking in his reflection. As if his appearance mattered! In his quest, only one thing mattered: He was a warrior, a killer. He'd killed so many he'd lost count. But he continued to fail in his quest to kill The Cat. The mangy beast lived. Dodge felt his rage and vengeance threatening to swallow him up.
Unable to stand still any longer, he swept away from the window, spinning with a huff, and strode over to his bedside, where he had left his sword and boots. He needed to get out. He needed to be moving. He needed the cool night air, the thrill of a spirit dane ride, the centering power of blades crashing together, of blows landed and inflicted. He'd see if the rook was awake, perhaps a bit of midnight sparring would help calm him.
But as he reached his bedside, he froze.
Nestled into his bedcovers, her black hair streaked across his pillows, her porcelain skin glowing in the eerie half-light of the moonlit night, her face relaxed and a contented look gracing her features, the Queen slept.
Confusion struck him. Alyss? What is she doing here? How long has she been here? Dodge felt his agitation fading. Not really thinking, Dodge found himself sitting beside the sleeping Queen. His questions forgotten, he stared at her sleeping form, feeling his familiar scowl fall from his face and a warmth spread through his heart.
Beautiful, he thought, sighing. Slowly, he reached to brush a stray hair out of Alyss' face. But as he stretched, Alyss stirred, unknowingly rolling her body closer to Dodge. As she moved, she murmured, so softly that Dodge had to strain to hear it.
"Dodge," she murmured, her brow crumpling in concern.
"Alyss," Dodge whispered back, his body instinctively moving toward her, curling his arms around her.
Still very much asleep, Alyss' troubled face seemed to relax as Dodge held her. She buried her face into his arms.
"Dodge," she murmured again, "Don't go. Stay with me," she whispered.
Dodge felt an aching in his chest, a feeling somewhere between longing and contentment. He smiled at Alyss' sleeping form, wondering how he could have ever deserved the love of his beloved Queen, and how, through their twisted and tragic adventure, that he could truly have this small moment of bliss. Wrapped up in the sweet serenity of the moment, Dodge brought his hand to Alyss' face, cupping the perfect porcelain of her cheek in his heavy, calloused, battle-worn hand. The feel of her skin was magical, but after a moment, his smile fell.
The contrast between her sweet soft skin and the battle-calloused hand of a killer was too much for him.
A tightness in his chest restricted his breathing. He realized with a start that his free hand was balled into a tight fist and his body was tensed with agitation. Closing his eyes against the pain in his heart, he rose, leaving behind his sleeping angel. Growling with annoyance and a growing sense of conflict and self-loathing, Dodge paced with new vigor, rubbing the heels of his hands against his forehead, pressing hard against his eyes.
Pausing, he took a deep breath, calming his nerves, relaxing his shoulders, and letting his hands drop away from his eyes.
And then he froze.
In his pacing, he'd managed to stop directly in front the sole looking-glass in his room. In an instant he locked gazes with the face that haunted him – his own battle-scarred face.
He approached the glass, suddenly mesmerized by fierce look on his own face. Is this who I am? he thought. He grimaced at the realization that his face fell reflexively into a fierce scowl. As he stared in the mirror, he tried to relax his features into a smile, into a serene expression of contentment.
He could force his features into the expressions, but somehow his face retained that fierce look. He tried to puzzle it out. The eyes, he noticed. His eyes were sharp, too sharp. They gave his face the hawk-like intensity of a predator. They scrutinized his face with the defensive, suspicious look he'd worn his whole life. He sighed, trying to relax his expression once more. But even when his eyes wore the weight of resignation, his appearance was as fierce as ever.
A sudden inspiration struck and Dodge watched his reflection cock his head and raise an eyebrow in speculation. Slowly, Dodge raised a hand to the mirror, fingers hovering over the glass, and covered the right side of his face. The effect was immediate.
The rugged rakishness of his appearance softened. Dodge stretched his imagination, trying to envision his face without the scars, but he couldn't. He dropped his hand in frustration.
So he was shocked when his reflection did not. As he watched, looking-glass Dodge brought his hand to his face, ran his fingers over his scars, and – Whoosh – wiped them away.
Dodge's jaw dropped in disbelief, but before he could puzzle out this strange new development, he was entranced by looking-glass Dodge, whose face had broken into a carefree smile, his eyes glinting mischievously, his sharp, angular features softened somehow by an inner glowing. The image seemed vaguely familiar, although Dodge was sure he'd never seen himself this way before. As he stared, a feeling of nostalgia washed over him, and then he understood. This is what I would have looked like, he mused, if not for…
"The Cat," Looking-Glass Dodge answered.
And no sooner had he mentioned the beast's name than it appeared.
Dodge's eyes narrowed and his breathing sped. The Cat was standing behind his reflection, claws bared and teeth dripping. Reflexively, he turned to see if The Cat was lurking behind him, casting his own reflection, but he was alone. Alyss laid, untroubled, sound asleep in his bed. But Dodge spared less than a second on his slumbering Queen. His eyes darted back to the looking-glass, fear crawling its way up his throat – looking-glass Dodge still hadn't turned to combat The Cat, and the beast was bearing down on him!
Dodge felt his thirst for revenge swelling up in him, fueled by the sight of his unscarred self. The righteous anger of avenging his father mingled with a strange protectiveness inspired by the Dodge-that-might-have-been, doubling his surging vengeance. Without a thought, without a backward glance, Dodge pushed his way through the glass, emerging on the other side, facing down The Cat before even realizing that he'd left his sword behind!
As he stepped out of the mirror and squared his shoulders, staring down his archenemy, he reached to his hip, ready to unsheathe the sword he kept always at his side, he found, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that he was unarmed.
His eyes flashed fear and The Cat smiled in response. Dodge flicked his eyes back to the looking-glass. His unscarred reflection stared back at him, his eyes finally taking in the form of The Cat. A silent message passed between them and suddenly Dodge's reflection was gone – only to return seconds later, Dodge's sword in hand.
As the blade flew through the looking-glass, The Cat pounced at Dodge, claws swiping high so as to take off Dodge's head in one slice. Dodge dropped to the floor and rolled out from beneath The Cat's pounce, catching his sword in the same movement. From his position on the floor, with near inhuman speed, Dodge brought his blade up, and thrust it into The Cat's exposed chest.
The Cat landed hard, bringing his razor-sharp claws to push the blade away, but only succeeded in breaking the blade from the hilt, burying the blade deeper into his chest. Dodge pushed himself to his feet, breathing heavily, his eyes locked on his dying enemy. The Cat lay sprawled on the floor, his dark red blood fanning out around his body and dripping from his gasping lips. His chest heaved in the throws of death and for the final second of his life, his eyes locked with Dodge's.
Dodge refused to blink. He held his breath as The Cat's eyes emptied and he surrendered to his final death.
After a long, silent moment, Dodge released his breath, and crumpled to his knees. His shoulders bowed as if under an unbearable weight. But in fact, Dodge felt a lightness he hadn't felt in years. The towering rage of his vengeance had whooshed out of him and in its place he found a tiny bit of closure, a tiny bit of justice, and an overwhelming sense of – emptiness.
He'd filled his heart and mind with vengeance for so long that, in its absence, he felt nothing. Vengeance had pushed aside love, duty, honor, friendship, joy, and every other impulse, every other reason for living, that now that it was gone, he suddenly felt no impulse to live. He bowed his head to the cold floor, breathing heavily, crushing his eyes against his sudden panic, and then – Alyss. Her face formed behind his eyes. Her sweet smile, her beckoning eyes, her intoxicating laugh.
With a shock, he sat up. Of course, he thought, cursing himself for his stupidity. In Alyss he found it all again: love, duty, honor, friendship, joy. Here was his reason to live.
He jumped to his feet and raced to the looking-glass.
From feet away, he saw his reflection sitting at the foot of his bed, Alyss resting comfortably within his reach. Looking-glass Dodge locked eyes with Dodge, his carefree face and mischievous eyes glinting with triumph and amusement. Dodge was too intent on his goal to notice this, and so, when he threw himself against the looking-glass, expecting to burst through into his proper room and take his beloved into his arms, his crash into the solid mirror took him completely by surprise.
He shouted out in pain. His body had crashed into a solid wall, the rebound sending him to the floor. He stood stiffly and approached the looking-glass again – more cautiously. He ran his fingers along the crystal surface. It was hard under his touch.
He looked into the glass, his eyes questioning, his brow crumpled in confusion and concern. His reflection smiled back, his unscarred face turning up into a beatific expression of triumph. With deliberate movements, his reflection ran a soft hand over Alyss' sleeping face, brushing a stray hair from her eyes. Dodge's eyes narrowed and his hands balled up into fists.
Slowly, Dodge's reflection rose from the bed and strolled back to the looking-glass. Dodge's fierce battle-scarred face stared down his reflection, anger plain on his face. Looking-glass Dodge smiled back, unaffected. He brought his face inches from the mirror and breathed heavily on it, fogging the glass – obscuring Dodge's vision of the world he left behind.
"No!" Dodge shouted, banging the glass with his fist. What have I done? He thought. I've lost her… Dodge felt tears welling behind his eyes. He was going to be trapped in this looking-glass world forever. Forever separated from the only thing compelling him to live, the only person worth living for. Through tear-blurred eyes he looked up at the foggy looking-glass once more.
And suddenly the fog on the glass was filling the room. Through the fog Dodge heard the eerily deadpan voice of the Blue caterpillar inside his head. And as he spoke, the fog formed his words… One cannot serve two mistresses equally…
The fog filled his nostrils and suddenly he was choking, the heavily perfumed smoke smothering his lungs. He coughed and sputtered, gasping for air, his eyes desperately trying find an escape from the all-encompassing smog – to no avail. After a long moment of dire struggle, everything went black as his eyes failed and his body succumbed to oxygen deprivation.
Gasping, he sat up with a start.
Sunlight was streaming through his bedroom window. His bedcovers were strewn and tangled around his body, binding his legs together, nearly cutting off his circulation. His heart was racing and his wild eyes scanned his bedroom suite.
No Alyss. No Cat. No reflection.
A dream? He thought. But it was so real.
He climbed out of bed warily, afraid the events of his nightmare might yet come to pass.
A quiet knock on his bedroom door nearly jolted him out of his skin. He opened the door with bated breath, but it was only the Walrus, come to ask him what he'd like to have for breakfast.
"Walrus, have you seen the Queen this morning?" Dodge asked breathlessly, trying to hide his panic.
"Why, of course, Master Dodge," Walrus answered in his typical, good-natured way, "I've just brought Her Majesty her morning tea."
Dodge released his breath. She's here. She's safe. Just a nightmare.
But Dodge was no fool. Dream or no dream, he wasn't going to forget the feeling of sating his vengeance only to lose his love and his life, anytime soon.
Can't serve two mistresses equally, he heard the caterpillar's words in his head.
Just then an idea came to him. Breakfast.
"Walrus?" Dodge said, a new excitement building in his voice, "Hold off on Her Majesty's breakfast, would you? I want to do something," Dodge finished, smiling, his eyes taking on a bit of the sweet, slightly mischievous glint of the Dodge of his youth.
You know what happens next! Thanks for reading! Please Review