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The Dreamers
As they slept they dreamed.
Fenris dreamed of a boy whose name he could not place.
It was an odd, he usually did not dream of things except his time as a slave to Danarius. He dreamed that the boy was running through the courtyard, the smell of the flowers, the hot summer air, and clear pools of water. A girl ran beside him, her hair was the color of copper and her noticeable ears told him she was an elf.
The girl tackled him in a bed of grass. Unlike Fenris, this boy did not mind being touched. "Got you brother," the elven girl said. "Now you're it." She ran from him with a speed that the boy could not match easily.
That was when the girl tripped over a pot. The loud crash made some slaves look at the children. The boy saw his Mistress storm over to them, an old woman with the strength of a bear.
His sister held the boy's hand. "I'm scared brother," she whispered as their Mistress came closer.
The boy tightened his grip on her. "I'll protect you," he said. That voice, it was so familiar.
His Mistress grabbed the boy by the hair and shoved him into the dirt. The girl was about to scream when she to was knocked over by The Mistress's son, a stocky man of forty. "How dare you break the Mistress's priceless furniture?!" Her son said as he slapped the boy's sister over and over.
"LEAVE HER ALONE!" The boy screamed when he saw his sister's bloody face.
"Do you want a beating as well slave!?" The Mistress asked as she continued to pull on his hair.
"Mistress!" An elven woman rushed over to them. Her clothes were tattered rags and her face was puffy from either tears or tiredness. She possessed the same copper hair as the girl.
"Are these your children, slave?"
The woman drew herself up to not look afraid. It failed. "Y-yes, t-t-they are."
The son laughed, it was a barking chortle that grated on the boy's ears. "Stop stammering whore and control these slaves. They should be working not playing. I make an exception because you showed me such good sport last week, knife ear." He said as he pinched the woman's arm and twisted until her eyes filled with tears
The boy's throat tightened. "It was not my choice, m'lord." She mumbled quietly so he would not hear.
"Don't call my mother that!" The boy yelled as he tried to lunge at the man, the grip on his hair stopped him.
"What? A whore? Well let me tell you something, slave. Look at your hair," he said smoothly.
I am not a slave… The boy knew the color of his hair, black as ink. Not the copper of his sister. He had little memory of his father, but he knew the color of his hair, a light brown that blew easily in the wind. Suddenly the pieces fit together.
"Now there's a smart boy…" The son said with a smile on his ugly face. He turned to the Mistress. "Mother, I think they had enough for today… I will buy another pot for you."
The Mistress released the boy causing him to land on the ground with a thud. "I hope so," she said. "Danarius is coming today and we need the house to look its best."
They both sauntered away discussing plans for their guest.
The girl was sobbing and so was his mother. The boy went over to his sister and ripped off the fabric of his clothing in order to wipe the blood off her face. He saw that his mother had a big purple bruise on her arm from where the son had pinched her. His mother then pulled both of them into a tight embrace.
They all cried as the rest of the slaves looked on. "Someday mommy…" The boy sobbed. "You will no longer be slave. None of us will."
His mother pulled away to look in the boy's green eyes. "Oh Leto, you dream too much."
Leto, where had he heard that before?
Isabela dreamed of her wedding night.
The first night she ever shared a bed with a man. It had not been pleasant in the slightest and it was over before it even truly started. She sobbed like a child the entire time, her husband did not seem to mind. He was drunk on the wine they served at the ceremony and had no thoughts for anything else, but her secret places.
Isabela… No, she was not Isabela at that time. She was Naishe… And Naishe stared at the sheets as Luis (her husband) mumbled in his sleep. The blood that stained her thighs and her bed horrified her. Am I dying? She thought suddenly.
She climbed out of the bed with a cat like grace and made her way to the docks in nothing but her nightgown. She now lived in a house near the sea and the smell of saltiness calmed her nerves.
As she looked at the ships sailing by she wondered if she jumped from the docks could she swim to the nearest ship and stow away? Unlikely, her lord husband would probably find her or she would be killed for sneaking onto a ship.
Tears brimmed in her eyes. No! I will not cry! She needed to go back inside, back to her husband. She had a duty, her mother told her so. Fuck my mother… She thought. And fuck the bloody Qun she dedicated herself to.
She felt arms wrap around her waist and pull her close. It was him… Her owner, she was not his wife. She was his slave. To be used whenever he pleased. She began to cry when he put his lips to her neck. They felt like ice against her dark skin.
"Oh my dear," her husband said as he began to snake his fingers down her neck and into her nightgown. It was like a snake slithering down her. "Soon enough you will be happy with me."
Never. She thought bitterly, but instead she pretended to enjoy his touch, giving him fake gasps and coos. She was to be his wife until death did them part and she had to act if she must.
When he had his way that night she played along. She moaned, screamed, and said his name a few times. Even if the act itself wasn't very nice for her, she found some pleasure in it. He said he would reward her obedience with a trip to the market tomorrow. He was wealthy after all and unlike her mother, could buy her actual gifts.
She laid naked in the sheets she looked upon his sleeping face. I promise someday I will kill you… My captor… She thought.
And she always kept her promises…
Anders dreamed of the future.
A world where mages were free, a world where the sun shined bright and the flowers bloomed in spring. His mind was quiet for the first time he could remember he was content. There was no cause, no danger… No justice to be served.
He was sitting in a rocking chair when a small child ran to him. She looked familiar… She had honey blonde hair tied in pigtails, freckles on her face, and bluest eyes he had ever seen.
"Daddy!" She yelled as she jumped into his arms.
This was what he was fighting for, a life where he could have his family beside him. With the rocking chair and the sun always shining. He didn't even care if this daughter was fiction. He didn't care that there was an extra passenger in his mind.
He knew that his fictitious daughter had familiar eyes. The eyes of a certain woman he knew. His non-existent daughter did not have Karl's eyes or the Warden Commander's eyes. No, they had her eyes. She was part of the dream to. They all were.
No Templars, no Tranquility, Mages Free. No Templars, no Tranquility, Mages Free. No Templars, no Tranquility, Mages Free.
It was a chant that repeated in his mind often enough. That one bright light of hope he grabbed unto in his darkest days. The one thing that still made him human.
One day those words will not be a chant. They will be reality… And I will do anything to make it happen…
A/N: Sooo… This was originally supposed to be a chapter in my fic Seven Years of Love, but it became an oneshot. I picked three characters at random and decided to write their dreams linked to their pasts somehow, I hope you enjoy :D.