Chapter II: Dreamscape

The night air of Suldanessellar was cool as Anomen rolled out of his bed, weary but wide awake, and cast his gaze around his room for his abandoned tunic. He found it exactly where he'd left it, discarded on the nearest stool, and stumbled towards the mirror as he pulled it over his head.

He lit the candle on the desk, and raised his head to examine his reflection in the mirror. The hard lines around and bags under his eyes, traces of wear and tension all over his face and the slightly hollow cheeks that had all come from the mad hunting of Irenicus had faded over the last month. Suldanessellar had been relaxing and calming, with his days filled with either idleness or helping where he could with the elven reconstruction, and until that night, that dream, darkness had hardly crept in on his thoughts.

Now his face did not look old beyond its years, his eyes had regained something of their past shine, his beard enjoyed the immaculacy that came of regular ease of trimming, and the only part of him which was not perfectly groomed was his hair, which he had for some unfathomable reason allowed to grow a little longer. It had to be the elven influence – he would have to cut it soon. It just looked messy.

Anomen had half-expected to be greeted with haunted eyes, a haggard and gaunt face, an expression tainted by weariness and tension. The fact that he looked as hale and hearty as he ever had chased away some of the fear that lingered from the nightmare, and he took a deep breath. "Just a dream, Anomen," he repeated to himself, scrubbing his face, and straightened up. Dream or not, slumber would not come tonight.

He picked up the candle and padded over to the door leading to the large room the party was using as a communal area. He did not know what he would fill the night with, but there were all sorts of books and subjects to study on the shelves around the communal room. Or he could attempt some drilling in the room they had set aside for their gear and weapons ever since Reynald had destroyed a small table when practicing with his sword in the main room.

Simply, he had expected to be left for his own devices for the duration of the few hours until dawn broke. Thus he was highly surprised to see a candle lit in the communal room, shedding just enough light to cast erratic shadows about from where it sat in the centre table, a familiar shape perched on a chair and huddling over this source of illumination.

Anomen raised an eyebrow slowly, raising his candle to cast more light on the room. "Imoen?"

Imoen looked up quickly, clearly surprised, and Anomen instantly saw how she had not been as fortunate as he in evading any visual markings of her anxiety. Worn eyes registered astonishment at his presence for a moment, until the pink-haired mage shook her head and smiled at him, fortunately quite genuinely. "Anomen. Hey. What're you doing up?"

A little gratitude, pleasure at his appearance, and that tightness hidden in her voice that denoted fear. It had been present for so many weeks in the hunt for Irenicus that Anomen hardly realised he had recognised it.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," he said instead, moving over to sit himself down on the opposite chair. "But you did ask first." He shrugged, setting his own candle down next to hers. "I just had… an odd dream. Nothing too serious, but quite disconcerting."

Imoen leant back, studying him with worried eyes. "Anything you want to talk about?" she asked, shifting a little. In her hands she held Boo, the hamster, who was curled up in a ball and evidently sleeping happily. The fact that Anomen didn't want to sneeze was a reason he had taken the seat opposite her.

He shook his head. "I… no. It shall pass. It was just one of those odd, disconcerting dreams where it is hard to tell truth from reality, and was… disturbing once I woke up." Anomen shrugged. It was half-true. It was not a complete lie. "And now your turn, my lady," he continued, fixing her with a concerned look.

Imoen shifted a little, drawing up her knees under her and curling in a little. "I… had a nightmare," she admitted, not meeting his eye. "Quite a scary one. Sailing on rivers of blood." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "And it's just… Harrian, when he could ever remember a single dream he had – which is never very often – spoke of things like that. Dreams from the taint."

Anomen leant forward, trying to keep the surprise and worry from his face. He knew Imoen would not need that. "Is there anything you… want to explain? I shall listen," he said quietly, trying to sound as comforting as possible.

"I… don't know." Imoen reached forward to set Boo down on the desk. The little hamster shifted a little, then scurried over to the candle and curled up again. "It was just… so real. Scary. I don't know what to make of it."

Anomen stood at last, and slowly walked around to sit next to her on the chair. The seat was quite small, so there was not too much room for both of their frames, but Imoen shifted to leave space and huddled close to him once he had sat down. She didn't pull back as he gently put his arm around her, and rested her head on his shoulder.

"If there is anything you wish to share, any burdens you wish to pull off your shoulders, do not hesitate to say," he whispered, kissing her forehead gently, his brow furrowed with concern. "Do you wish me to stay here?"

"Not if you plan on going back to sleep," Imoen replied stubbornly, her actions not matching up with her words as she curled closer to him. "I'll be quite alright."

"I won't sleep," Anomen said simply. "My… mind will clearly not be at rest enough to allow it. But if you think you might, and if my presence might help… you merely need to say the word." He reached for her hand gently, entwining their fingers.

Imoen shook her head slightly. "No. I… don't think that sleep will come." She paused, clutching his hand, and took a deep breath. "But if you want to stay here… then… please, feel free to…"

A slight smile tugged at Anomen's lips as he kissed her forehead again. "Very well. I shall stay here."

He had thus anticipated that they would remain where they were for the rest of the night, until the sun rose and chased their fears – hers spoken, his internal – away with its bright light. So he almost jumped out of his skin when one of the other doors opened and a sweaty Reynald de Chatillon entered the room, gripping his sword and looking highly confused at the sight of them.

"Is this… some late night gathering I missed?" the Fallen Paladin asked quietly, blinking and raising his own candle higher to illuminate the room a little bit as Imoen and Anomen shifted away from each other, seemingly guiltily. "Or is everyone else suffering from a rather sleepless night?"

Imoen blinked at Reynald, grabbing her own candle and Boo quickly. "I… it's…" She stumbled over her own words before pausing and gathering herself. "You couldn't sleep either?" she asked slowly.

Anomen gave them both a wry expression, turning his gaze towards the door leading to the room shared by Harrian and Jaheira. "I do not think that everyone is suffering from a sleepless night."

Reynald shrugged, resting the sword against the wall and adjusting his tunic a little. "I was merely restless, and thought I would do some drilling." He grinned at Anomen briefly. "Oh, I am quite sure that the two of them are suffering from a sleepless night. I just rather doubt that they'll want to share the reason with any of us."

Anomen chuckled again, feeling a sense of normality starting to return to him. This was intensified by the increasingly relaxed look on Imoen's face. "And you merely felt like doing some late-night drilling?"

Reynald met his gaze calmly, nodding slowly. "Yes. You can never practice with the blade too much," he said, nudging the Blade of Searing slightly and keeping his voice and expression markedly calm and blank.

There was a brief noise from behind them, and they all glanced around quickly to see Jaheira pushing the door open, looking sleepy and a little befuddled. "Harrian? I… oh." She stopped as she saw them, pausing and giving them all a wry smile. "Is this some sort of gathering?"

"Coincidental," Imoen replied, shrugging. "And you seem to be joining us." She raised an eyebrow. "Where's Harrian?"

"That's what I was… checking." Jaheira drew her robe a little closer around herself and stepped towards the others. "I heard voices and assumed it was him." She glanced around. "He went to meet with Queen Ellesime earlier. And has not yet come back, I assume."

"He might have come back and gone on one of his walks," Anomen pointed out. "It is quite restful to meander out in the city."

"Mm. True. But it is not like him to spend so much time away," Jaheira agreed slowly, shrugging.

Reynald paused, seeming to be thinking for a long few moments. Then he abruptly turned and walked back into the drill room, disappearing for a few seconds until he emerged with a grim look on his face. "I'm not entirely sure how important this is…" he started falteringly, hesitant.

"But?" Jaheira prompted, fixing him with a look.

Reynald shifted a little. "His weapons are gone, as is his armour, and his pack, and all of his affairs."