Chapter 6: Dreaming

Waring: this chapter contains sexual content. It doesn't last too long, but it's quite early on.

Toralei threw the cottage door open with a huff, stalking inside. The party had not gone at all the way she'd planned- Cleo didn't even seem to acknowledge her, a man she'd met at the party ended up ditching her last minute, and then some creep spilled water on her dress in attempt to see if she was wearing a bra. It was a disaster.

The cottage was silent, so she assumed Tigerclaw was asleep. Yet as she passed the room they'd both agreed was his, she noticed the bed was empty. This worried her, but she went to her room and changed out of her dress anyway.

As she buttoned up the last few buttons on her pajama top, she became aware of the sounds of soft breathing coming from her closet. Quirking an eyebrow, Toralei walked over to the closet and opened it, finding Tigerclaw lying there asleep.

"Tigerclaw!" she snapped, watching him wake with a start. "What do you think you're doing!? Why aren't you in your room?! And why aren't you wearing your pajamas!?"

Tigerclaw could not speak. "I…I…"

"Let's get you to bed," Toralei said as she yanked him up. But then, she softened a little. "Why weren't you in your bed?"

Tigerclaw swallowed thickly, glancing towards the closet. "I just…I don't know. I was chasing a mouse-"

"A mouse!? There are mice here?" there was a pause, and Toralei giggled. "Nothing we can't fix, right?"

"Right," Tigerclaw grinned. He turned to the closet once more, feeling disappointed. Was it all a dream?

Elsewhere, in a sauna a short distance away from where the party was, Valentine contemplated the meaning of life. He wouldn't be thinking this way if it hadn't been for the fact that he now sat in a sauna wearing nothing but a towel, and that Naomi, the female DJ from TVC, recognized Valentine earlier and had somehow managed to get him in the sauna with her. Now, Valentine remembered just how chatty Naomi could be, and he wished they hadn't even begun speaking in the first place.

"But, that's just the way things worked out!" Naomi beamed as she concluded her tale.

"Uh-huh," Valentine mumbled, not looking at her. There was a pause, and Naomi rubbed her bare leg against Valentine's without warning.

When Valentine gave her a surprised look, Naomi chuckled. "Look, buddy- it ain't a secret that you and Howleen are not a thing. Why follow her everywhere?"

"She's just my friend," Valentine stated defensively. "Just because that one thing happened between us doesn't mean we're a couple."

"Then why do you hang out with her all the time?"

"For Christ's sake, Naomi!" Valentine exclaimed, burying his head in his hands. "We have a daughter together! We don't want Valentina to think that we hate each other, because we don't hate each other! Howleen and I are friends, and that's that."

Naomi was silent, and then she leaned in close. "So, you're single?"

Valentine let out an exasperated sigh. "Naomi, please."

"What?" she pressed against him, her fingers trailing up to flick his hair. "What do you need me to do?"

"N-Naomi…" it was becoming increasingly harder to argue with her, as her body was so close and the heat of the sauna was so intense. Valentine's mind was racing, his heart was pounding, and before he knew it, he'd slammed his lips onto hers and was kissing her deeply.

"Oh, yes," Naomi sighed into his mouth, bringing her arms around his neck as their towels slipped down to the floor. "That's right- oh, isn't that nice? Ah- yes! Show me how a rich guy makes love!"

What happened next was a blur. The intimacy did not last long at all, and when it was over, Naomi was quick to leave. She'd enjoyed it, that much was certain. But halfway through, she lost interest. She let him finish, though, for he seemed desperate for her, and he was. Valentine hadn't engaged in any sort of sexual activity for about nine years, and the most recent times had not been pleasurable. However, he thoroughly enjoyed his moment with Naomi, and when she left him alone in the sauna, a sudden emptiness filled him.

Valentine sat on the slick floor of the sauna, his damp towel beside him. He felt used- the only reason she had been flirting with him was because she wanted sex, not a relationship. This wasn't the only time, and when he recalled Jared, he shuddered and quickly tried not to think about that. Hands trembling, Valentine picked up his towel and wiped his face, chest and arms with it. Not because he was soiled in any way, it just made him feel better. Breathing deeply, he stood up to fetch his clothes and return to his cottage.

The cottage he had been assigned was very small, with only two bedrooms. Since he shared the cottage with Howleen, Anne Marie and Valentina, Howleen and Valentina were sharing a bed while Anne Marie (who had prepared for such an occasion) planned to sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor. Yet, when Valentine returned home, Anne had changed her mind.
"Papa, could I sleep in your bed tonight? With you?"

Valentine gave her a surprised glance as he got some bottled water out of the fridge. "In my bed? Why?"

Anne Marie held up a worn looking book. "Howleen bought this book of French Fairy tales for me, and I was wondering if, you know, we could read it together?"

Valentine smiled, stroking her hair. "Of course, doll face. I'd love to."

The golden light filled the room as Valentine adjusted the covers of the bed. As he slipped in the blankets, Anna Marie climbed up next to him with the book and snuggled up close. She handed Valentine the book, and he opened it.

"Which one?" he asked, looking at the table of contents. Anne thought about it, and tapped the title that read, "Reynard The Fox".

"This one looks good," she smiled, leaning her head against her father's shoulder. Yet as he began to read out loud about Reynard the fox and all the tricks he played, Anne Marie found it difficult to keep her eyes open. Finally, after struggling with the urge to sleep for a good ten minutes, she drifted off into a deep slumber.

Anne Marie then found herself standing on the steps of a house. It was a lovely house, obviously belonging to someone who had quite a bit of money. She glanced around, quirking an eyebrow when she realized that this house was practically in the middle of nowhere. All she could see beyond the house was a vast, open field. She knew not what to do, but the only thing that seemed logical was to knock on the door.

Cautiously, she rapped on the door. There was no immediate response, but after knocking a second time, the door swung open.

A tall, blond woman who looked to be about thirty answered. "Anne Marie!" she exclaimed, making Anne back away a little. "You're just in time for dinner."

Anne Marie's mouth fell open, and she was speechless. After an awkward pause, the woman ushered her inside.

"We're having roasted chicken with potatoes," the woman explained, leading Anne around the gorgeous house. "It's almost ready, so could you go fetch your father?"

"My father?" Anne asked, feeling very perplexed. "Could you tell me what's going on? Who are you?"

The woman walked into the kitchen, slipping on an oven mitt. "All I can really tell you is that my name Sophie and I'm your aunt. Now, your father's in his study, which is down that hallway and to your left," she began to pull out a pan, but turned back to Anne Marie. "Well, go on! He'll be happy to see you."

Feeling nothing but absolute confusion, Anne Marie took Sophie's directions and managed to find the study. The house was huge, and this made her terrified of getting lost.

The door to the study was slightly ajar, and after pushing it open, a man of about twenty who was sitting in a chair and reading a book became visible to her.

"Hello?" Anne called out nervously, and the man spun around right away.

"Hello, Anne!" he said enthusiastically, standing up. "I'm so glad you're here! Are you planning to eat with us?"

When she nodded slowly, the man clapped his hands together. "Great! Wanna hear my new song?"

Anne Marie was no idiot- she recognized him. When she'd asked about her father about a year earlier, Valentine had gotten out old photos and newspaper articles and showed her what Jared, her paternal parent, looked like. Ever since that day, his face had been engrained in her mind. This was Jared, there was no doubt.

After some silence, Anne cleared her throat. "I didn't know you wrote music."

"Sure I do!" he sat down at a piano in the corner of the room, grabbed a bunch of papers off a table and began to play.

It was a rather soft, quiet tune, and it went like this:

"Sleeping, wake up to the few the orchids are in celebration

One good stretch before our hibernation

Our dreams are just blue, my love is true

The way back is black and blue

My love is true,

The way my words were faded

Rather waste some time with you

I would never let go of you,

Can't you feel safe?

The road is now a sudden sea and suddenly,

You're sleeping, wake up alone

We'll take the wheel if I was afraid I thought

I was flying on a limb for you inside,

Inside my heart is torn for all to see with a ribbon

It's time to break in two pieces,

The stars above your eyes,

Everything that I could end the quest for fire, for truth, for love

It's all in when it rains and I'll never change

Still, I'm left alone,

I've never felt so at home,"

He would've continued had it not been for the fact that Anne Marie quickly tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

"Sorry, but- uh," she chewed on her lip, still not sure how to feel about this whole thing. "S-Sophie said that the food's ready."

There was a pause, and he laughed. "I should've known! Ah, she'll kill me. Well, she can try," Jared stood up, making his way out the door. On his way out, he ruffled Anne Marie's hair affectionately, and she couldn't help but giggle a bit. Yet as she walked towards their dining room, a strange feeling filled her. Was Jared really so bad after all?

The moment Anne sat down, Sophie handed her a plate. Just as she had said, it was chicken and potatoes, but it was unlike anything Anne Marie had ever tasted. The chicken was actually tender and moist, which to Anne was a pleasant surprise. Whenever she had chicken, it was usually a bit rubbery and dry, with ribbons of fat lining the sides. This chicken was not like that at all, and this was pleasing.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Sophie asked, and Anne nodded.

"Yes, please. Can I have some milk?"

Sophie smiled, getting up and going to the kitchen. She returned moments later with a glass of milk, which she handed to Anne Marie. Anne gladly drank the milk down, but then noticed some writing on the glass. The letters were bubbly and pink, with little flowers surrounding the words. The words read, "Welcome Home!"

Anne looked up, quirking an eyebrow. "'Home'?"

Jared smiled at her, reaching out and grabbing her hand. "Yeah, kid. We've been waiting for you." Their eyes met, both soft eyes of brown, and Anne Marie stood up quickly.

"I-I think I need to get home!"

Sophie cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"I…I don't know…I just-!"

"I think you need to get to bed," Jared cut in, taking her hand and leading her away. "I'll tuck her in, Sophie."

He took her upstairs to a little room, with a comfortable looking bed that had a canopy draped above it. It was lovely, and Anne Marie climbed into it right away. For a moment, she thought she was alone, but then Jared's hands brushed along her skin to pull the blanket around her shoulders. As Anne Marie pressed her eyes shut and silently begged for sleep, she felt Jared's lips peck her cheek in a gentle kiss.

"See you soon," he whispered.

Anne Marie's eyes opened slowly, and she found herself lying in the cottage bed next to Valentine. She didn't know what time it was, but the darkness she saw out the window proved that it was still night. She looked over, seeing that Valentine was asleep with the book of French Fairy tales still in his hand, and she took a moment to think. Was that a dream? Was it real? It was all so vivid, so clear. And Jared- her father. Was he really all bad? Was that really him?

Whatever the case, Anne Marie pulled the blanket up to Valentine's shoulders, kissing his cheek and turning out the light. No matter what, she loved her papa. Though she'd only been with him for around three years, her troubled past and younger years were such a haze that, as far as she was concerned, she'd lived with him her whole life.

Though the dream was still fresh on her mind, she snuggled close to her papa and rested her head on his chest, drifting back off to sleep.