In Dreams
By Pyreite
Chapter 3: To Seek is to Find
"Ellana".
"Yes?" she replied, toying with the stem of Avallac'h's goblet. It was a plain boring brass, a surprise considering he was gentry. She'd never met an elven noble, but she'd known human aristocrats that'd strutted like peacocks. She'd seen velvet doublets, ruffled pantaloons and ornate brocade gowns. Avallac'h's sense of fashion while refined was less pomp and glitter.
He favoured greys and browns with accents in red, blue and green.
There was a touch of embroidery in his garments, though it was understated. His robe was blue, his shirt and breeches grey, while his boots were a dull brown. He wore neither a sheath nor a blade on his belt, though he carried a multitude of pouches instead. Each was small with steel buckles dulled by use, but without a speck of rust. His clothes were clean if stained, though he was by no means shabby.
His face was clean and unblemished, his hair while cut in a severe style was neater than most.
He cleaned up nice for an elven recluse, but he was incredibly nosy and single-minded.
"How did you find me?"
She arched a silver brow, giving him a bored look. "The clarity and content of your dreams". She snorted when he flinched as if she'd divined his secrets. He stared at her, ashen-faced and trembling with dread. Her amusement soured when he blinked owlishly, his brows furrowed.
"You needn't worry. I never delve into a person's subconscious without permission. Call it a personal code of honour. I skim the surface of a sleeper's mind, but I never go deeper than that. It can get dangerous if you do".
Avallac'h was still afraid. "Why?"
"A person's mind is like a pond of water. Touch the surface and you'll see their most recent memories. Sink in a little and you can get stuck fast. It's like jumping into a puddle when you can't see the bottom. You get caught first in the mud, then you sink like a stone until you drown".
"That sounds ominous".
"It is when you can't get out of a dream. Spirits wander the paths between waking and sleeping. They're like spiders feeling out the tendrils of their webs. If they catch you trespassing where you shouldn't. They can capture your consciousness and take control of your body in the waking world".
He comprehended the danger. "You've described the exact method of demonic possession".
"Not exactly", corrected Ellana. "It takes a certain amount of influence and coercion on behalf of the spirit. Mages are more susceptible to corruption, but children are most vulnerable. I once met a spirit that'd appeared to a young girl as a cat. It became her pet to earn her trust".
That made him curious. "Did it harm her?"
"It slipped under her skin like a shadow, thereby assuming her identity. The little girl was gone, subsumed until only the spirit remained. I encountered her years later, married to a Duke with a family of her own. I knew what she was at first sight, something that caused her great anxiety. She offered me sanctuary, then behind closed doors begged me not to reveal her secret".
Avallac'h grimaced, perturbed by the news. "What did you do?"
"I let her be".
"Why?"
"She was a wife and mother with four children. All born of her body not from another's womb. I knew then that she loved her husband. I didn't want to make him a widower, or to leave her children motherless. I learned afterwards that her husband knew she was a Maleficar because she'd told him".
"Maleficar?"
"It's what the mages from my world call a person possessed by a spirit". She cut him off before he could ask. "No. I won't enlighten you about the Fade, spirits or how Maleficar are created. I've shared enough already".
Her bluntness irked him. "Fine. I can live with that. Although I am curious as to what her husband thought. Did he care that she was Maleficar?"
"No. He loved her too".
She smiled when he grimaced in distaste. "Don't screw up your face like that. She was a good woman, a better wife and a wonderful mother. I bet you've known all manner of strange folk. Associating with them would've added colour to your otherwise boring existence".
He was offended on principle. "I am not boring!"
She snickered, raising her stolen goblet. She tipped her head to him in acknowledgement. "Says the scholar to the rogue, whose nose has been in a book for most of his life. I'll drink to that even if I don't believe it". She brought the goblet to her lips, taking a deep draught of the spiced wine she'd purloined.
Avallac'h was far from appeased. This might have been a dream, but it was his subconscious. He deserved a little less of her cheek, but if Ellana was anything like Zireael. She would be wilful and uncooperative with a fiery temper. He'd seen a touch of that feistiness when they'd first met.
He wondered how far he could push before she snapped at him again.
"Ellana".
"Yes?" she declared, smirking when he called her by name.
"How did you find me?"
He was annoyed by the nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. She'd done that the previous night too. He'd asked who she was, not that she'd provided an answer until tonight. The woman was an enigma that needed unravelling. He wanted to know more about her, though he doubted she'd be forthcoming.
He was astounded when she proved him wrong.
"Lara".
"What did you say?" he cried, slapping a hand down on the table with a bang. The goblet jumped with a brassy clink, teetering on its base till Ellana righted it. A few droplets of wine had escaped, splashing the tabletop in shiny red beads. Avallac'h stared at her goggle-eyed, mouth a gaping chasm in his face. He thought he'd heard her wrong.
She couldn't have meant his deceased betrothed.
Ellana frowned, puzzled by his response. "Lara sent me to find you", she replied. "She was adamant that I'd be safest in your company. She said that you'd known her in life, that you were friends. Did she lie?"
The revelation left Avallac'h shaking down to his toes. "No".
"Why are you surprised then?"
His brows arched in astonishment. "She has been dead for more than a hundred years. You could not have spoken to her". He sank back in his chair, head shaking in bewilderment. "It is impossible".
"How do you know that?"
"I have tried to summon her spirit, so that we could converse".
"She never appeared to you?"
"Not once in the last century".
Ellana went quiet, peering back at him from under her lashes. She said nothing, though her silence was telling. She watched him go still then frown till craggy lines wrinkled his forehead. He glared at her in remonstration, the bitterness of Lara's betrayal still stinging. He spat another question, seething with jealousy.
"You have seen her?"
She uncrossed her legs, refusing to answer.
"Ellana!"
She set the heels of her boots on the floor, ignoring him as she got to her feet. She straightened, arching a silver brow when Avallac'h's chair clattered to the floor. He'd shot up too, chest heaving as he laid his hands on the table. His fingers pressed down hard enough to turn his knuckles white with the strain. His nails bit into the wood like claws.
"Why did Lara never appear when I summoned her?"
Her answer was succinct. "Because she's been with me. I don't know for how long. My perception of time is distorted. She found me while I was wandering the paths between worlds".
"How?" he hissed. "When?"
She shrugged.
"You must know something!"
She would've taken pity on him if not for Lara's warning. Avallac'h was of the Aen Saevherne, an elven sage of the Aen Elle. He was as astute as he was clever. He was also a gifted mage with centuries of experience in spellcasting and magical lore. He could help her, but his morals were as liquid as his sense of loyalty.
"She told me where to find you, but she never said that I should trust you". She inclined her head when he blanched at her words. "She knows what you've done, though she's grateful you saved Zireael from Eredin. She hasn't forgiven you for luring her to Tir ná Lia. Or for trapping her there, lying to her and allowing her to be used by Auberon Muircetach".
"You know what happened?"
"I have seen Zireael's memories in the world of the Aen Elle. I know what she endured at the hands Of the Alder King. If you intend that for me, it'll end badly. While I'd carve you into pieces, I'm afraid the wolf that hunts me will do worse. I wouldn't be surprised if that's why he's been so persistent in trying to find me".
Avallac'h didn't like her tone. "What do you mean?"
She looked him in the eye, the brazen honesty in her gaze frightening him. "He likely saw Zireael's memories too. The days of her capture, the humiliation she suffered and the outcome when she escaped. If he suspects there's the slightest chance that could happen to me".
"He would kill to protect you".
"The wolf would do worse than that".
His eyes widened with sudden realisation. "He would attack Tir ná Lia?"
"If I was there and he believed me a captive. He'd try. Lucky for you that's quite impossible if I'm stuck in the Fade. While I can cross from a dream into the waking world. I can't maintain corporeal form long enough to pull myself through".
His brows furrowed in confusion. He was perturbed by the revelations she'd made. "What? I don't understand. How can you materialise in the waking world if you're a wandering spirit?"
"I'm asleep not dead!" protested Ellana.
"How would you know?"
"Let's find out. Shall we?" She swiped the goblet off the table, holding it aloft. "I'll try not to get any up your nose, but I won't be sorry if I do. Try not to drown".
Avallac'h awoke with a gasp, cold, sticky and stinking of fermented fruit. He sputtered in outrage at finding himself soaked to the skin. His face and nightshirt were splattered with red. His nose filled with the cloying sweetness of Ellana's spiced wine. She'd doused him liberally, dark droplets streamed off the bridge of his nose.
He picked at his wet shirt, grumbling epithets in Ellylon.
He smelt like a brewery. He patted himself down, grimacing when his shirt stuck to his fingers. It clung to his chest and neck too, feeling cold, wet and horrible. He gave up trying to find the handkerchief he always kept on his person. He shoved his chair back from the table with an angry thump.
He picked at the buttons on his shirt, trying to undo the collar.
He froze when something smacked him in the chest. It was small, round and soft though wadded into a ball. He picked it up, wondering where it'd come from. The bundle of linen lay heavy in his hand as he realised that he wasn't alone. He swallowed, hoping that he hadn't invited the devil in his front door.
He lifted his chin, skin prickling with unease.
He saw the table, the chair beside it and beyond that a shadow on the floor. The shape of it confused him until he looked up with trepidation. He saw steel-shod boots, the overlapping plates riveted together glowed that ethereal green-gold. The greaves were the same as were the poleyns at the knee. They lacked the thigh-hugging cuisse, though he recognised that panel of black fabric.
It hung from their waist, plain and unadorned.
He relaxed, recognising the owner of the armour and clothes. He looked up, expecting to see a tight corset without the bone ribs or lacing. He was relieved when he saw the leather cuirass that covered her from clavicle to hip. He paused when he spied her pauldrons, something glinted off the metal. He glanced upward, expecting to see the bronzed slope of her throat.
He was astonished when he saw pale lines like the veins of a leaf.
Each was thin and delicate as the gossamer threads of a spider's web. The lines appeared painted rather than incised into the skin, each flowing into the next. He followed the pattern upwards, brows arching when it curved around the point of her chin. He'd only seen Imlerith of the Wild Hunt, bandits, skelligans and scoia'tael with their faces tattooed. It was considered a crude art by the Aen Elle.
But against the darkness of her skin, the ivory lines were beautiful. Avallac'h had never seen such intricacy. He forgot his sodden shirt, the buttons undone at his collar. He rose from his seat, carrying the ball of wadded linen in his fist. He crossed the floor in two strides, reaching for Ellana before he thought to stop himself.
He was moments from running his fingers over her cheeks.
He paused an inch from touching her face, hand hovering in the air. It turned awkward when he realised how close they were. Almost nose to nose, he could feel her breath on his lips. Warm, wet and full of anticipation. She blinked her silver lashes, a slight flush in her cheeks. She was dark, tattooed and slender as a sapling.
Her wild silver hair had been tamed into a braid. Although errant curls had escaped to form an unruly fringe. The vine-like lines climbed her temples then disappeared into her tresses. Avallac'h swallowed when he looked into her dark emerald-green eyes. He saw himself reflected there, as if he were peering into a mirror.
"Elaine blath", he whispered, slipping into Hen Llinge.
Ellana not understanding a word he'd said, took immediate offence. She jabbed him in the sternum with the point of her finger. She jabbered at him like an irate songbird, twittering phrases in a language he didn't understand. The moment of intimacy was lost. She went from a blushing maiden to an incensed magpie, squawking her displeasure.
Avallac'h wondered what he'd said that was so terrible.
She was glaring at him as if he'd called her something foul. He'd never before found himself in trouble for telling a maiden she was fair as a flower. He was worried when her fingers curled into a fist. The flash of her eyes, narrowed in fury reminded him so much of Zireael that he panicked. He stepped forward in desperation, hoping to avoid being spitted on a blade.
He'd never tried this with Zireael on account of the dagger buckled to her belt.
The girl had a witcher's reflexes to match her fiery temperament. A dangerous combination in a dh'oine with a fractious disposition. He wondered if Ellana was the same, though he didn't get the chance to find out. The moment he cupped her cheek, the pale lines upon her skin glowed white-hot. He gazed into her eyes, realising he'd made a mistake.
Those strange lines upon her face weren't tattoos, but the mark of a powerful warding spell.
He was flung backward as if thrown by a pair of invisible hands.
The spell sent him hurtling towards the laboratory's far wall. He would've collided with Lara Dorren's family tree if Ellana hadn't disappeared in a flash of silver. She reappeared behind him in a swirling blast of ice-magic that frosted the very air. She caught Avallac'h in her arms, fog streaming from her shoulders. Her armour was crusted with ice when he landed hard in the cocoon of her body.
They tumbled to the floor, inches from striking the bench beneath Lara's tapestry.
The candles had extinguished, the wicks smoking. Ellana smelt the melted wax and soot beneath the glacial bite of her magic. A second inheritance from her mother that was enough to convince Avallac'h of who she was. She patted his shoulder, then his neck and face as her bare right-hand slid across his cheek. She turned his head, exhaling white vapour.
She said something in that lyrical language, her voice soft with concern.
He regarded her with wonder, certain that she'd slipped across space and time. He'd seen her disappear in a flash of silver, form rippling as if she were an apparition. His skin prickled with goose-flesh, the frigid brush of her magic making him shiver. The winter's kiss was cold like a blade plunged into a frozen lake. She'd inherited her mother's talent for ice-magic, something that'd skipped Lara.
Not even Zireael had Shiadhal's elemental affinity.
It was a revelation that hurt as much as it reassured him. He might have said something wise or witty to impress, though all coherent thought faded. He was caught in the moment, aware of her consideration. She'd saved him from colliding with the wall, getting a concussion and a few bruised and broken limbs. Yet none of that mattered when she cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes.
He pressed his mouth to hers in gratitude, ignorant of what she'd said.
Ellana tensed in shock, the kiss sudden and unexpected. She was stiff as a plank of wood, when his tongue brushed the seam of her lips. It was a hot wet length of pliant flesh that stroked back and forth with frightening expertise. She'd not been kissed since that day at the foot of an Eluvian in the hills outside Orlais. She'd lost an arm to her estranged beau along with her dignity.
She'd never forget the pain or the self-recrimination that'd followed.
Her eyes widened when Avallac'h sucked on her lower-lip. She squeaked like a mouse when his hand slid around her neck. She felt the whorls of her vallaslin prickle as if to awaken the magic contained within. Fearing a second assault, she didn't reciprocate. Her lack of enjoyment doused Avallac'h's ardour faster than a bucket of iced water.
Sensing her reluctance, he hesitated as if he'd made another grievous error.
He broke their lip-lock, feeling self-conscious the instant he saw her face. She was watching him with flinty eyes, her brows furrowing. She considered him for a moment, touching the bare fingers of her right-hand to her mouth. He groaned when she licked her lips as if savouring the taste of him. What he'd thought was a mistake changed the moment Ellana's cheeks dimpled.
She smiled with a flash of white teeth.
Avallac'h was relieved, exhaling the breath he'd been holding. He smiled in return, feeling shy and foolish as if he were but a century old. He hadn't been so bold with a woman in years, especially one he'd just met. He was glad Ellana hadn't taken offence, though he was disappointed by her lukewarm reception. She hadn't returned his affection, something Lara hadn't done either.
He thought it was a sign of rejection.
Pride stinging, his enthusiasm soured. His mouth turned down, the sclera of his eyes turning watery. A single tear slipped down his cheek, another soon followed. He refused to sob like a child, though that didn't stem the misery. He was disgusted by his own weakness, a thing most shameful for an Aen Saevherne.
He was a renowned scholar, a gifted mage and a guardian of the Elder Blood.
Yet he wept like a child denied the thing he'd wanted most in the world. He blinked, cheeks wet when Ellana murmured soothing words in her language. It sounded like an apology, the contrition upon her face turning his stomach. He saw regret, then pity as if she felt sorry for him. Her compassion while genuine made him feel worse.
"I don't want your sympathy!"
Ellana grabbed his arm when he tried to pull away. He resisted believing she intended to chastise him as if he were a recalcitrant youth. He exhaled a shaky breath when she cupped his cheek again. The calloused pads of her thumb sliding beneath the lid of his eye. She wiped away his tears with a gentleness that upset him.
He inhaled a shuddering breath when she leaned inwards.
He was afraid when she pressed her mouth to his cheek. The brush of her lips burning like a brand. He was startled when she kissed him. It was slow and restrained, more exploratory than passionate. A heady combination that earned him a retaliatory nip when he tried to hurry it along.
She refused to be hasty, taking the time to enjoy herself to his frustration.
Back and forth they teased and tested each other. It could've been minutes or hours, though to Avallac'h it felt like an eternity. They parted sometime later, panting as if they'd run a mile. Their chests heaved with the strain of it, sweat beading upon their brows. Ellana's smile was lascivious, the brazen waggle of her silver brows flustering him.
Avallac'h was red-faced when the pale lines upon her face glowed white-hot again.
He called her name, distraught when her skin turned translucent. He could see the dark outlines of the table, the pale lumps of the candles. The darkness of the tapestry immortalising Lara's family tree was visible too. Ellana faded like a watercolour painting left out in the rain. The radiance of her tattoos growing brighter the more transparent she became.
"Don't leave me alone", he begged.
She pressed two fingers to her lips, blowing him a kiss in farewell. She vanished soon after, the markings on her face seared into his memory. He stared at the space where she'd resided for a handful of moments. His heart crawled up his throat, lodging behind his adam's apple in a ball of misery. He doubled over keening, burying his face in his hands.
The sorrow came first, then the self-loathing.
It was almost dawn when he dragged himself to bed. He fell onto the mattress, exhausted in mind and body. His face wet, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. He went to sleep miserable until he was discovered in a dream fully dressed. He sat up in the disarray of his own blankets, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled.
He stared at the woman sitting on the edge of his bed.
"Ellana?"
The silver-haired shrew wrinkled her nose in distaste. She gave his boots a disapproving look, seeing the soles upon his sheets. She shook her head, scowling with displeasure. She could condone his lack of nightclothes, but not the retention of his footwear. One wore socks to bed not shoes.
"Your boots are filthy. You ought to have taken them off before going to bed. Now your sheets and blankets will need washing. A task you could've saved yourself if you'd been sensible before falling asleep again. You'll be up to your elbows in suds when next you wake".
Avallac'h forgot his misery, taking umbrage at her callousness. "It's my bed! I will sleep in it however I want too!"
Ellana snorted, rolling her eyes. "Why are you taking offence? Maker's arse. Are you always this high-strung? I thought a kiss or two would soften you up".
He quietened at that, cheeks flushing a lurid pink. "You left me".
"I told you that I can't maintain corporeal form for long in the waking world. It's a weakness I've tried and failed to overcome, despite being an oneiromancer. My connection to my body is tenuous, but I know that I'm not dead. I can't return to it because something is interfering. The tattoos you saw on my face are some kind of seal or barrier spell".
He sniffled, the tears welling anew. "I wanted you to stay".
"I'm not Lara".
He gave her a look of abject misery. "You kissed me as if you could have loved me. There was warmth, tenderness and desire though it was restrained. Lara never showed me such regard, even though we were betrothed. So why did you?"
Avallac'h sensed something was off when Ellana bit her lip. She averted her eyes, glancing at the rumpled blankets about his heels. She plucked at the sheets, a nervous twitch as if she were trying to distract herself. He didn't allow her to ignore him, catching her fingers. He pulled the sheet away, gripping her knuckles.
"Ellana", he called. "Why did you seek me out?"
"I need your help".
"Is that the only reason?"
Her reply was succinct. "No".
"Then why?"
She exhaled a weary breath, her shoulders slumping. Lara had cautioned her not to string him along. Avallac'h didn't hold grudges, but he remembered those that'd deceived him. The future would be difficult if their relationship began with a lie. She exhaled a shaky breath when he slipped a finger under her chin.
"Look at me".
She did as he asked, gazing at him with chagrin. She saw his red and watery eyes, wet face and wobbling chin. He pouted unhappily as if he might burst into tears again. She'd made him cry, a fact that bothered her more than it should have. He was a man grown not a child on the cusp of adulthood.
She'd expected greater maturity not dread and desperation.
"Why did you seek me out?"
Ellana exhaled a weary breath, choosing honesty over deceit. "I once dreamt of a fox chased by a pack of wolves with pelts as red as blood. A sparrowhawk circled overhead, screeching as if in remonstration. The wolves snapped at the fox's tail, almost catching him until a swallow swooped down. They disappeared together in a swirl of silver-blue light".
Avallac'h gasped. "My flight with Zireael from Eredin and the Red Riders". He was bewildered by her candour. "If you saw that than what else did you dream? Tell me".
"It would be easiest to show you".
"How?"
She held out her hand. "How else? Let's go for a walk".
"Together?"
"If you like".