Chapter 4: Just like in the Dreams

Iorveth reclined his back firmly against the unconventional lounge – a lounge made of tree, a young beech tree more specifically– head falling to the side and eyes hesitantly closing shut, the young Aen Seidhe fell into a ritual of consciousness and unconsciousness, absorbing the fresh air with an abundant scent of flowers, daisies and roses … Pfft, he scoffed loudly, disturbing a nesting of birds another level above him. He breathed purposefully, and for once without the urge to cough. His lungs felt renewed, reborn.

Iorveth hummed quietly; eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones, chest rising and sinking, abating and soaring. It became a pattern he hummed along to, his fingers twitched and a desire to play the flute practically overcome him.

Eyelids abruptly creaked open, back abandoning the bark and hands going to his belt, he picked apart his satchel and retrieved the thin woodwind instrument. He dusted the scratched, marked and scarred object, blowing huffs of air along the side to rid of the dust.

He brought the mouth piece to the bottom of his lips, the taste of dirt and maple wood excessive on his tongue that flickered out by accident, wiping away at the dryness of his skin. The tips of his fingers glided down the exterior of the sound chamber, landing atop the tone holes, pressing when each one when necessary, conjuring a gentle inflection of an emotion. His emotion whilst he observed a few squirrels skittish yet cunning, surrounding the extroverted roots of the far tree to his right.

A smile weaselled its way onto his face, distorting the sound being produced by his every blow of air, transitioning into something free and enlightening. Something that played with his mind, expressed the desire for something he had always sub-consciously wanted…

Freedom.

A strong rush of familiarity wavered through him, pumping at his chest and slithering to his stomach. The environment quiet and secluded, peaceful and natural, blurred… The sound of a powerful yet gentle voice, echoed in the air from nowhere. Many voices did. But that feminine voice, that memorable voice from a past he hadn't even experienced yet echoed in his mind like the flute he had paused in playing. It was painful. It was a painful revelation and truth.

His brows frowned, eyes weighed heavy on his face. His hand reached to the right side of his face, soft, untouched by age and scars. It wasn't nothing… His eye, everything was there. His hand travelled from his long eyelashes and landed on his hair, long and delicate. Iorveth's fingers intertwined in the long, silk-like strands of hair, his legs aiding him in standing tall against the tree … The scent of earth had disappeared, but the voice of a woman had not.

The voice of Saesenthessis. The voice of hope.

'Saskia!' Iorveth shouted, barely hearing his own tongue, his own tone and melody. He glanced back and forth between the trees, the shrubs and bushes, plants and rocks.

'Where are you!'

He sprinted from one clearing to the other, trees like walls forming and conjuring like dust, and disappearing likewise.

Iorveth knew he was dreaming. None of this was real, and it for the first time in many years ignited a hope in him. He had never woken within a dream, discovered he was dreaming in the same moment of dreaming. It felt real, yet it didn't. Still, he couldn't help but take advantage of the situation.

'Saskia… I wish to see Saskia! Come on!' He yelled into the fake air, pinching his eyes closed, imagining in his mind her standing before him. Her. All he wanted was her… He could see her vividly in his head, smiling slightly as if it were a secret. He wanted so badly, so desperately a hope. This secret of Hope. He wanted to feel, to see something that reminded him of a past long left behind, of a past destroyed. Come on. Come on.

He opened his eyes, expecting a strong, feminine and beautiful face but found something entirely different. Something he had never expected …

It was a young child … A dh'oine child. A girl with familiar brown eyes and hair. She peered up at him as if he were a wild animal, an exotic animal. Her neck crooked and eyes questioning … He could feel those eyes fierce on his pointed ears - she observed them with no hesitation. Then a smile, a small but visible smile twisted on her mouth.

'You're an elf! I've always wanted to meet an elf! Mother likes elves! Say's they're better looking than humans!' She laughed wildly, skipping to his side. Iorveth snarled but felt relieved enough she hadn't seen it, he shuffled back, tensing as the child's small hand reached for his own. He gritted his teeth, watching as the dh'oine's hand small and fragile, capered with his larger one. Playing with his fingers and giggling like it were a toy.

Iorveth could feel his patience thinning as he stood there, allowing the little shit to toy around with his hand then his tunic, stepping all over his feet as she attempted to stand on her tip toes and reach for his face.

'Stop that!'

She paused, smiled apologetically and stumbled away from him, yet did not wince at the pure violence and anger in his tone. The child muttered a mangled apology and continued to observe him. And he observed her.

She was tall for a child, especially a human child but still the crown of her head didn't reach very far past his waist.

'What's your name Dh'oine?' He asked, knowing full she wasn't real, yet he couldn't help but shake off a strange familiarity about her, especially the freckles sprinkled like dirt on her round face.

'Umm … What's a Duu-one?"

'You. Now tell me your name before I force myself awake.'

'What? Aren't you awake? Oh well -well, tell me your name first and then I'll tell you mine, elf.'

'Don't call me elf.'

'Well … Please tell me your name and I won't have to, el-sir.'

'Fine … It's Iorveth.' He answered impatiently, not afraid to express a disgust and annoyance in his features, nor voice. She nodded her head frantically and smiled that smile children smile … So, unafraid and free.

'Iorveth – I like that name. It's handsome, just like you … Mother would say.' She laughed, albeit bashfully this time, perhaps realising what she had said out loud. It made him grimace even more. She remained silent for a moment, and he allowed it, sighing at her exaggerated analysing of him. As if she were deciding if he were trust-worthy enough to tell him her name. She wasn't even real, so why did she seem like it? And there was that other question that was bugging him, why had even conjured this snotty Dh'oine child in his dream anyway? What was his sub-conscious trying to tell him, show him?

'I guess it won't hurt to tell you. Father would be cranky but he doesn't have to know!' She giggled again, and the sound irritated him. He watched bored as she grinned widely, showing all her small white teeth, well most of them, a few of them were missing or growing back as adult-teeth he believed.

'My name's Ailidh! My Mother and Father picked it because it means kind or something! What does your name mean?'

Silence. Echoes of a child's wails and cries declared their existence in the distance, the background, like a memory from the past, not his but someone else's. The young child … Ailidh … peered up at him, expecting an answer. He couldn't speak as he glared at the girl, now recognising the likeness of her and Ailidh… the Adult Ailidh.

Ailidh… The young dh'oine faded into the environment, the last thing he saw from her was eyes widened with fear, mouth opened ajar and a sadness that took home on her furrowed brows.

'Irra … There's this man, Aen Seidhe, older than me, he lives in the village we visit every second Sunday, and he-he's very handsome.'

'Oh, I see. Isn't he the blacksmith?'

'Yes, that's the one. Culain. He's very kind to me, I get along with him very well, do you think he would, um, would like me?'

A silence. Iorveth pressed further into the forest, wandering to capture sight of her or Irra. Their voices carried out naturally; he felt strange, intrusive, listening to their private conversation. Was it real? Was it from the past? Was it happening now as he slept? Was it going to occur in the future?

'I am not sure Ailidh. Like you said, he is older than you. Maybe he is too old for you. And I've seen him with Lavena, the young maid we visit, they are very close, intimate I believe -'

'Oh yes, Lavena. She is rather beautiful isn't she, I can see why he would admire her and her him. I suppose I should leave it, shouldn't I? … Wait, isn't Lavena's sister going to the academy next Winter?' There was a hidden sadness, a touch of defeat in her voice, yet Irra seemed to have missed it, and Ailidh seemed to have let it go, the silence now vacant of emotion in the forest. Only the crushing of herbs that of which Iorveth decided came from wherever Irra and the Dh'oine were.

'Yes, indeed. She will be studying Natural History at Oxenfurt.'

'Oh wow … That's exciting, that will be incredibly interesting won't it? Biology, genetics, wonderful dissections and what not,' Ailidh laughed so genuinely, every sound was vivid and real in his head as he searched for her, 'I would love to go one day. You know, I'm the right age for it – and- and my financial state is stable enough, our financial state that is, but I could afford it myself even!'

Silence.

'I would love to study Medicine, one day I may be a surgeon Irra!'

'Hmm … We'll see. I don't think you're mature enough Ailidh …'

'Oh, well not now, but maybe next year when I'm seventeen?'

'We shall see Aildih. I'd rather not discuss it now.'

Iorveth paused, eyes focused on one thing and one thing only. He stiffened, cemented his boots into the deep soil, masked by crunching leaves of an array of colours … They flew by in shades of pink, gold, yellow … red, floating like fabric in the wind. They passed his face, and hers. Her face that stared with grief, pain, longing. Her dark eyes that expressed despair and anger, all these things he could feel within himself.

She stared at him with those eyes. Yet, they weren't for him as she stood by the desk covert beneath a mortar and pestle, herbs, potions and ointments. They were meant for something else, but it felt as if they were meant for him. As if her dark eyes knew he stood outside, watching her just as she did the outside through an open window. She desired freedom.

She wanted a freedom of some form, perhaps not the freedom he yearned for, but a freedom nonetheless.

For once in all his years, Iorveth felt something for a Dh'oine. He felt sadness for a Dh'oine. He felt compassion for a Dh'oine.

He had compassion for Ailidh. That was what his sub-conscious wished to show him.

Iorveth settled himself by the empty, coal-ridden hearth. The narrow stem of his pipe grasped tightly between his teeth, as he gazed into the dark shadows cast by flickering candlelight surrounding the interior of the cabin he had begun to grow accustomed to. It wasn't silent, but it was quieter than usual. As if the life of an object had dissolved, evaporated in thin air, left for another home somewhere else.

No, it wasn't lonely, but it didn't feel right. She wasn't home and it scarred the cabin, more than he thought it would, more than he would like to admit.

'Here. This'll help.' Egan said, hindering Iorveth's time for wallowing in his own self-doubts and fears. Sinking into the chair -Ailidh's chair, the chair she had previously occupied most evenings while eating dinner - he allowed his friend of time to light the sweetly scented leaves within the stummel via a lit match. Smoke soon poured in his vision, wetting his eye and resonating a familiar smell on his tongue, in his mouth and gums, on his teeth and in his throat. His eye shut involuntarily, a sigh of relief abandoned him and a chuckle came from Egan whom had taken to sitting at the table with Irra, judging by the scrape of a wooden chair, and a cough from the old elven woman.

'Iorveth … That shall kill you one day and you'll have no one to blame but yourself.' She stated, harshly and in no way appreciative of his favourite pastime. He smirked, twisting his neck so he could see the blonde-haired loveliness.

'I shall die one day – regardless of whether I smoke or not… I don't mind dying by it if I enjoy it, just as you enjoy sharing the company of a certain Dh'oine.' Iorveth jested, causing a blush to warm Irra's face. Yes – She would never have known he had caught onto what she did in her free-time, supposedly visiting a "friend" in a nearby village, but she certainly did now. Egan didn't seem to catch as expected, lucky for her.

'Of course. You would know wouldn't you Iorveth. Some humans happen to be rather pleasant once you get to know them.'

He snarled then. Flickering his gaze from Egan and her to the dull fireplace.

Some Dh'oine. The mere comment, the opaque mention, the surface innocent and empty of knowledge ignited an irritation in his mind. Worst of all, it replayed an image revealing the true connotation of the woman's statement. Her nosey and High-horse statement.

Ailidh…

That shit of a Dh'oine, that shit of a Dh'oine he was starting to warm up to. Her big white teeth that stuck out like an arrow in the knee when she smiled whole-heartedly. Her eyes that squinted, transitioned from large and sweet to beady and humorous when she laughed without fear.

Yes, it was theatrical and strikingly real, fresh in his memory. He should have been wary, cautious of the fact that he held her face so delicately in his day dreams. Perhaps he was to a degree, yet he couldn't help but enjoy the daydreams of her when sitting alone, watching as his squirrels trained without him for the past week…

A spiteful sigh left his lungs, they should have been gone by now, if only he had fucking stopped being such a prideful fool, so overconfident, he would have healed swiftly with his men. But now, now …

He peered down at his abdomen and grimaced painfully. It all collided within him, remembrance and words of wisdom from those whom no longer walked this earth with him, and those who had left without goodbyes.

Aen Seidhe … A prideful Aen Seidhe. The last of his kind they used to say. Now look at him. Pride can only get someone so far.

Ignoring the creaking of a door, the ruckus of wicker baskets and a howling wind desiring to be heard, only to be shut out by the door being closed, Iorveth dropped his pipe and threw it impulsively into the hearth.

'Feindhelm! Ailidh! Where've you been? You missed tea!' Niallan pressed, sprinting from the kitchen, flour and a food substance all over his hands … The conspiracist had earned a joy in food and cooking during their stay. It wasn't particularly good but it was better than the Dh'oine's. Although, she did have a lot of things to make up for it…

Ailidh, huffing and puffing shared a thankful glance with Feindhelm as they walked to the kitchen, out of sight for a moment.

'Where is everybody?'

'Oh, Owyn's asleep, Egan … Egan's at the table still eating like a Dh'oine whore - no offence Ailidh - and Iorveth is over there, sitting in what looks to be your seat.' Niallan answered her, resting his legs for a moment at the table, beside Irra who rolled her eyes, annoyed most likely. However, he had no duration of time to analyse her expression thoroughly, for he had caught the eyes of the dh'oine girl instead. She frowned, frowned knowingly, and he pushed a glare, forced it on her, demanding she did not question the scent of smoke. He had not patience to be chastised like a child, by a child.

But he did have patience for another topic, a topic he esteemed to be discussed. His dreams. His dreams and the medicinal herbs Ailidh had been treating him with.

He hoped to signal the wish by watching her closely, following her every move as she went to Irra's side and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, smiling gently. He knew she felt his stare, she always did.

Her browns eyes skittish and uneasy, attempted to avoid him while she sat at the table and chattered with Egan and Feindhelm. He could see the way those eyes weren't focused on the squirrels, but on him from her peripheral vision. Contempt assimilated with another emotion, an emotion that would not commonly be found side by side with guilt. No, they were immiscible yet somehow were one, as he observed her listen intently to the two squirrels. The way her hair let go of its bun, splintering and falling lazily upon her shoulders. To be able to touch her – He stopped it before it got worse.

Contempt and admiration …

He remembered the strange mixture from a past better left behind … The Blue Stripes commander, oh yes. He hated that son of a whore, yet he couldn't help but feel respect for the Dh'oine.

This was similar, yet different in every way. He had not wanted to fuck Roche. He wanted to kill him. But Ailidh … she was another story. And he wanted more of it than he would like to measure. He wanted to escape somehow, escape this routine of comfort, yet he wouldn't more of it.

He wanted stimulus, something to arouse a fire in him. She had helped him, it had helped, but now he was left lusting for something violent, something that would ignite adrenaline. He was Scoia-tael, humans were his prey for a time, yet he had no desire to kill her. But he desired for something else from her.

His dreams were his only outlet now, to be free of morals this girl held, Irra held. To be free of his own morals …

He hadn't the luxury of deciding his instincts, but he had the luxury of controlling them.

The conversation silenced itself as the two Aen Seidhe said their goodnight and clumsily strolled to the micro-hospital. They must have drunk too much ale.

Irra and Niallan had left a time before in search of a night's rest …

It was just the two of them now.

Him, Iorveth, killer of humans and her, Ailidh, a human.

She, Aildih, hesitant, afraid and fragile, not small but not fierce in stature, moved slowly from the table to her bedding placed on the floor. Gifting relief to her legs, she sat on the comforting materials and crossed her legs, staring up at him expectantly.

'How're you feeling? There anything you wish to discuss? Maybe a change in medication … Side effects? I can help.' She whispered, fidgeting with a pillow that sat in her lap.

Iorveth hummed in agreement, stretching in partnership to a quiet yawn.

'Yes. The medicinal herbs you give me for sleep. They've been causing strange dreams … I become lucid nearly every night. Perhaps it is normal Dh'oine, lucid dreaming, but what isn't normal is what I see in my dreams.'

'What'd you mean?'

'I dream of things that are too real for mere imagination, it's beyond sub-conscious creativity and experimenting. I-I dream of … I dream of you.'

Silence.

He could have laughed at her reaction, and the fact that what he had meant to say was much subtler. Her eyes wide … uncomfortable, shuffling where she sat, lips twitching, but then, she peered at him with a disturbing haze in her eyes. Shaky, but coherent, she inquired further.

'You dream of me? Well- um -well, the herbs can cause strong memory of dreams. And the lucid dreaming? Well, it occurs during the phase of sleep- call- called rapid eye movement, a part of your brain activates, so essentially you awaken while asleep, within a dream, I'm not sure if the herbs have much to do with it. The dreaming of me however, that's entirely unaffected by the herbs, dreams are usually influenced by your day-to day experience. That could explain it.'

She was nervous but managing fine enough. He smiled, knowing he could not hide it from her any longer, it seemed to further disrupt her calmness.

'I dream of you as a child, as you are now, as you could be in the future… Explain why I dream of that. Is anything I dream of you real? If so, why? How could that be happening?'

He leaned forward, hands grasped tightly on the armrests of the chair. She was on her knees now, inclining into him, curious and shocked all the same. He didn't mention the other nights where he would ask for Saskia and receive her instead. Where he would accept her as she was now, and free himself form reality.

'Is it real?'

'Tell me Dh'oine, is it real? Any of it?'

'No. No it isn't. Your sub-conscious is answering falsely to questions you desire to understand. You- You think of me.' She whispered, every shallow breath of hers impacting his nose, his skin.

'I don't think of you Dh'oine.' A lie.

'Why do you dream of me then? There is no other answer, you think of me. You wish to know me, and I wish to know you. It's only natural, look at me and your unit. From the start, they weren't fond of me but now we're quickly becoming friends. It's not impossible to understand one another.'

She moved closer, scent sweet and naïve.

'I don't want to know a Dh'oine. You don't want to know a man, an Aen Seidhe who murders your kind for the joy of it. You shouldn't want that.' Another lie.

'No, of course not. But I do. I want to know you.'

'Dh'oine. You don't know what you're asking for, I'm not a friend … to anyone.'

'But you could be. Why is it so hard for you to accept? I accepted it.'

'Accepted what? That hate is a horrible sentiment. No Dh'oine, you're delusional and have allowed Irra to bewitch you with her ethical competition. This is no game, I am not one to play with feelings, morals. I am one to kill, to clear a way for my unit. We're here for one reason, and one reason alone. To survive.' Iorveth growled through gritted teeth, shrinking into the chair as Ailidh found her way between his legs, leaning on the chair and peering into his eyes, oblivious to what position she had put herself in. She had no idea what she doing to him …

'Why? Why did you come here then? You're sick of surviving, you want to live. That can be done Iorveth. Allow me – Irra and I to help you and your unit. You don't have to fight a never-ending battle, it doesn't need to be that way.' She pleaded, genuine burden and hope for him and his commando. Her smooth hand attaching itself to his stiff one. Enveloping her fingers with his, bringing his hand to her chest, holding on tightly.

'Why? Why, Dh'oine? I don't understand you. I don't wish to understand you.' He continued to lie, him, Iorveth, he continued to hide beneath a façade of indifference when all he really wanted was to let go of everything and start new.

'I want to help you … Please … Owyn … all of them, they've become my closest friends and I don't want to lose that. I don't want to say goodbye now. Please, Iorveth. Stay a little while longer. Don't make them leave, don't leave yet. Give it time, we can help you. I can help you with whatever you decide next.'

Iorveth remained silent, observing the sheer fear and plea in her features, manipulating them into something sad, something lonely and in need of something she could not reach. She was so alone …

Just like in the dreams.

Ailidh acted as to lean away from him, releasing his hand.

The warmth and longing escaping his grasp, and he found he could finally breathe. She watched him in return, hair trickling faintly down the curve of her square face, down her pointy nose, slithering over her pink lips. How could lips be so pink?

He couldn't control himself, his hand reached for her again. She gave no sign of stopping him, convincing himself further in what he was about to do. He left the chair, knelt down with her and gifted himself the pleasure of touching Ailidh's face.

It was so clear to him … Under candlelight, the brown eyes, the heart yearning for freedom and filled with hope. She was so alone. She yearned for attention, for adventure, for something more. Something more than being whatever she was now.

He shivered but did not back down. He stumbled but did not pause from drifting his hand along her jawline.

'Promise me one thing Dh'oine. Like you did before, that no one will know of this conversation.'

She never answered, she didn't have to. The insecure smile she passed on to him was enough.

He stood then, ignoring her stare. He ignored the ache in his stomach, the ache of wanting more than he got, wanting more than he should have as he walked into her room and ignored the fact that she slept so close by. He didn't have to rely on dreams at all.

That night however, he decided a dream would be sufficient enough.

He dreamt of Ailidh, like he had been for the last week.

He woke up with her red shawl drenched, dyed darker with his blood, in his hand.

Thank you for reading and for the kind support! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and are enjoying where this is heading! Please don't hesitate to leave a review or PM regarding this chapter or fanfic as a whole. Feedback is really appreciated! :D