Waking Dreams

By sweet like chocolate

Disclaimer: Sigh, I wish I owned them, but not in this universe.

Rating: PG (for now)

Summary: What did Tess mean when she said Max wouldn't remember Liz on Antar? What if they had left in Departure before Liz and Maria unearthed the truth? Strange things are happening on Antar, and the time draws near when truth will finally come to light...

"We're all lonely for something we don't know we're lonely for. How else to explain the curious feeling that goes around; feeling like missing somebody we've never even met." David Foster Wallace

Prologue

When the cold of winter comes
Starless night will cover day
In the veiling of the sun
We will walk in bitter rain

But in dreams
I still hear your name
And in dreams we will meet again

When the seas and mountains fall
And we come, to end of days
In the dark I hear a call
Calling me there
I will go there
And back again

'In Dreams' from The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

Darkness fell across the city. Slowly, one by one, the sparkling lights that lit up the buildings flickered off, till only one or two remained. The streets were dark and empty of all but the few creatures that flittered through the air.

It was quiet. No cars came through this city, no aeroplanes flew overhead. There was only the soft sound of breathing, as all the inhabitants slowly fell into a deep and peaceful slumber.

Dreams of bright and beautiful things came to some. To others, dreams of freedom haunted their minds. Some dreamt of love, some of friendship; some flew through the air, some burrowed through the ground. All through the city the people slept, locked in peaceful dreams till morning arrived.

But in the centre of the city, in one large building, there lay one man whose sleep was not peaceful. He groaned and thrashed in his bed, but his dream would not let him go until the message had been passed on. His dream was one of importance. His dream was vital. The fate of worlds depended on his dream, and on his remembrance of it.

He stood on a strange ground. It stretched around him as far as he could see. He bent down and touched it, the scientist in him wanting to know where he was. It was oddly familiar, though he was sure he had seen nothing like it before. It had a gritty texture and it fell through his fingers. Individual grains stuck beneath his fingernails, but most fell to his feet, where it was instantly unrecognisable from the rest.

Sand.

The word came unwanted and from someplace deep within his mind. He pressed his hand to his forehead, willing his mind to tell him more. Where was he? Why was he here? Why did this all feel so familiar, like he had been here before?

Once upon a dream.

He remembered his dreams then. He remembered that for five years he had come to this place once a week at nightfall. He remembered that there was always this sense of recognition, and how he always felt that the answers lay within his grasp, if he could only see them.

He stood up slowly, the remnants of the sand falling from his fingers. The stars stood bright above him. These at least he knew, and they remained unchanged.

He sighed and took a step forward...and then the dream truly began.

Three others in the city knew of the man's dream. One hid from her knowledge. She tried with every breath she took to forget her part in it, preferring to hide in memories she was forbidden to share with anyone else.

Another embraced the knowledge, for in a world of isolation and torment, it was the key to sanity.

The last was different. She saw all and she knew of the lies that surrounded the man and all around him. She knew why the dreams haunted him, and she knew the time would soon come to do something about it. She had seen much in her time and she knew soon, soon would be the time when truth would be revealed and evil banished.

But for now she watched and waited.

Watched for the signs that the time had come.

Waited, for only then would she take action.

He had not taken more than one step before it began. A whirling maelstrom of sounds, scents and images that hit him from every side. They came so quickly he did not have a chance to process them, but he knew they were important. He knew he must remember.

Everywhere he turned there was something new; a spicy tang of something in his mouth; the feel of silky smooth hair beneath his fingertips; the warmth of a small hand clutched within his own; the scent of strawberries in the air; the sound of laughter echoing around him.

He cried out, begging the storm of senses to stop or slow down, but it continued, wrapping itself around him so he could no longer see or feel anything but it.

He saw grass, familiar except for it's colour, a sort of worn out green; he felt heat, baking down on him from above; he saw a pair of deep brown eyes gazing up at him; he heard snatches of voice, some that he knew and some he did not.

What are you showing me? He begged subconsciously to find an answer to what he was feeling.

Then suddenly the images stopped. He sobbed with relief as he came near to wakening. There was just one more sense, one more feeling.

Soft lips pressed against his own. Lips that tasted of strawberries as he relaxed into them. Now waking did not seem so important. The scent of vanilla wrapped itself around him, pulling him in, as he wrapped a hand in dark hair. Odd that he knew it was dark even though he could not see it.

It was dancing on the edge of his mind now, the answer he had been looking for. He was so near...so near...

"Zan? Zan? Are you okay?"

He shot up in the darkness, breathing heavily, the memory of the lips still fresh on his mind.

"Did you have another nightmare?" A soft hand was placed upon his arm and he fought with himself not to flinch away. Instead he drew a deep breath before putting his arms around her, drawing her close as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"It's okay. It was just a dream." He repeated it over and over to himself, but that did not help assail the pang of guilt that passed through him as she snuggled close and drifted off into slumber.

For the lips he had been so softly caressing were most definitely not those of his wife, Queen Ava of Antar, the queen to his king and the mother of his child.

A/N This is sort of a tester chapter. It's an idea that's been swimming around in my head since I saw Departure and I thought I'd write the first chapter and see what you guys thought. I'm going on holiday for two weeks now, but please review and tell me if you think I should continue and I'll start the next chapter as soon as I get back.

The next chapter of Thin Line (which will hopefully have a new name by then!) is about three quarters done. I've done the end and most of the middle, but I'm having a bit of trouble with the beginning! Hopefully it will be up either before I go or as soon as I come back. Thanks for being patient.

See you in two weeks

Love

Kat

P.S. The song I used at the top is gorgeous and if you don't know it I would seriously recommend listening to it. It's from the LOTR: FOTR soundtrack and it's brilliant.