Jenny dreams for Julian every night.
She feeds her mind a consistent diet of literature, color, sensation and sound. She makes the dreams as vivid as possible, immersing them both in worlds as brilliant as she can possibly make them. This is how she keeps him alive. This is how she keeps him with her.
And he is with her.
She isn't sure how it's possible, but Julian is still there, still alive, in her dreams every night. When the Shadow Men cut his name from the runestave, the act had only served to end Julian's physical existence; somehow his spirit is still alive and well, and for this, Jenny is grateful.
Tom is not so grateful.
He tried at first. Jenny hadn't been wrong when she noticed the change in him after their last venture to the Shadow Lands. Tom was understanding. Tom was tolerant. At first, Jenny shared the dreams with him, because at first, the dreams were simple and abstract. An image of Julian here, a laugh there, a brief conversation with him in a former memory of Jenny's; nothing to trouble the waters of her relationship with Tom.
But then, as Jenny graduated and moved on to college, the dreams grew longer, more focused. They began to have structure, narrative. Julian was soon able to converse with her subconscious mind in a way that Jenny had never thought possible. And she nourished that connection as much as she was able, planning experiences they could share, looking at paintings and creating settings where they could spend their dream time together. And Julian was thrilled by her efforts. She'd spent hours in the Van Gogh exhibit in L.A., then taken Julian for a stroll in the village beneath his "Starry Night." It was almost as if she were living two lives, one awake with Tom, and one asleep with Julian. And Tom didn't like that at all, because even though he knew that Jenny's heart was his, Julian had taken over her mind. And Tom was smart enough to know that where the mind goes, the heart soon follows.
Jenny was at a loss when Tom told her that he wanted to leave. Deep down she knew that Tom had every right and reason to want out, but that didn't mean that she wanted him to go.
"You have to choose, Thorny," he whispered in her ear, holding her to his chest while she sobbed wretchedly. "You've always had to choose between us."
"But I can't," she wailed. "I know it's not fair to you, but he needs me, Tom! He's always been alone. He gave up his life to save us, and can help him! I can dream him into a better world! One where he doesn't have to be in the dark and all by himself…"
She pulled away from him and sat up, looking over at him dully.
"But I love you too," she whispered. "I love you so much, Tom. How is it that I can love you this much, and how can it not be enough? It's not fair."
"I can be your friend again…eventually, someday," he told her then, swallowing and pulling her back to his chest. "I know you love me…it's just that things are different. I can't ask you to stopping dreaming for him; I owe him that much. And I can't be with you completely otherwise. It's just…time for us to be done now."
Jenny wept bitterly then, clinging to him, unwilling to believe that this was actually happening, that TomandJenny no longer existed, but he was right. Deep down inside, she knew he was right.
Tom left her tiny, off-campus efficiency apartment at one in the morning, and Jenny sat dumbly on the couch in the living room for nearly an hour before simply lying down and falling asleep where she was.
The dream was nothing glamorous. Jenny felt Julian materialize in the room, and she opened her swollen dream eyes to see him standing over her, his mouth in a grim line.
"Tom is gone," she croaked, sitting up on the dream couch and pulling her knees up to her chin. She hid her face in them and started to sob all over again. She felt Julian sit down next to her.
"I'm sorry, Jenny," he sighed, his musical voice sorrowful. He didn't touch her, but his presence was calming as she cried herself out.
Eventually he said quietly, "You know that you don't have to dream for me every night. I still can create my own; I will not disappear entirely. You could never dream of me again and I could be satisfied with only my memories of you if that's what would make you happy." Julian said this slowly, unwillingly, but it needed to be said.
"That's not what I want," Jenny hiccoughed into her knees. "That's not what I want for you. You deserved better. I want to give you something better. You deserve heaven, not purgatory."
Julian chuckled to himself lightly.
"What is it?" she sniffed and looked over at him.
"It's just…I had grown to believe that you would never see me as anything other than a monster, a devilish monster who deserved nothing less than the fires of Hell. How delightful and refreshing it is to hear otherwise," he grinned over at her, nudging her playfully with an elbow. The frost of his hair and otherworldly blue of his eyes were completely out of place in the mundane surroundings of her apartment, and Jenny couldn't help but flash him a watery smile.
"You're welcome," she snorted, and suddenly it felt entirely reasonable to lean against him and allow him to pull her to his chest comfortingly.
This was new territory for them, Jenny realized as rested there, letting him hold her, dabbing her eyes, sighing huge, shuddery sighs. She had never touched Julian in these dreams before, and Julian never offered to touch her in the few brief hours they spent together each night, seeming to understand that certain things were off limits. She suddenly felt a stab of guilt. She hadn't even been broken up with Tom for an hour, and already, she was in Julian's arms. True, he was simply offering her a comforting gesture, free of ulterior motive and guile, but suddenly her mind was filled with the memories of how Julian could make her feel with a simple touch…the feather light touches he had so expertly applied to her face, the feel of his hands in her hair, the touch of his lips…she remembered the silver rose he'd given her, bright in the moonlight…
Suddenly she realized the their surroundings were changing, the dream setting was changing, and she was taking them back to the Erlking's mine…
The details were still hazy, and Jenny made the shift stop before things became too clear and brought them both back onto the living room couch.
"What was that?" Julian murmured above her. Jenny realized that he was still holding her, and she sprang apart from him as though she'd been scalded. He quirked an eyebrow at her bizarre behavior, his electric blue gaze burning through her in an attempt to reveal her secrets. "Where were you taking us?"
"No where," she stammered. "I mean, not intentionally. What did you see?"
Julian shook his head, puzzled, and looked around the room. "I'm not sure…" Suddenly he froze, his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. Jenny's eyes followed his gaze.
A silver rose was resting on the carpet. The silver rose.
Jenny gasped, surprised. Artifacts of their former experiences were never featured in the dreams she created for them to share, especially not artifacts as emotionally loaded as this one. Jenny tried to make it disappear, but Julian had it in his hands already. And while Julian was always content to left Jenny create their dream experiences to her specifications, Jenny never forgot that in the dream realm, Julian had power too, even if he had no actual physical form. The rose was here to stay.
"What is this?" he looked up at her, his eyes amused.
"Nothing!" she blurted. "I mean, I was thinking about the first time you touched me…" she stopped, realizing that she hadn't said that right. "I mean…" she tried again, but Julian's eyebrows couldn't possibly go any higher, and she couldn't be sure that she wasn't blushing furiously in her own dream.
"Is this something you think about…often?" he queried, his expression mirthful. He twirled the rose between his fingers in a gesture so familiar that Jenny's heart skipped a beat.
"No," she ground out flatly, and her tone was false even to her own ears.
"I see," he drawled, sending her a knowing glance that made her tones curl before making the rose vanish between his fingers.
"You should go," she burst out, not meaning to be rude, but not knowing how else to end this slightly uncomfortable exchange. "I should really be…unconscious…for a few hours before I have to get up and go to class. I'll see you soon." She stood up, the way she would to see a guest out the door in real life. Julian didn't move at first; he studied her intently for a moment instead, but then he rose gracefully and faced her.
"Goodnight, Jenny," he whispered playfully.
"Goodnight, Julian," she replied cordially. This was their ritual. At the end of each dream, they always faced each other and said their goodbyes, and then their surroundings would fade and Jenny would wake up feeling rested and ready for the day ahead. This time, however, before the fade of the dream began, Julian reached out, clasped Jenny's hand in his own, and brought it to his mouth. His lips just barely brushed her knuckles. The look in his eyes and the sensation of it made Jenny's blood rush.
She woke up on fire.