I actually had people (yes, more than one! Whoa… Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou! You have my undying love, by the way.) tell me that they wanted more of this story, so, as I am on holidays and need a break from my Quenya course and my Chemistry assignment, I decided to acquiesce to their requests. I don't know how good this will be, as it has no predetermined plot, if it will ever be finished, or how regularly I will update, but I will do the best I can to bring you a nice, long, sufficiently (but not too) angsty, romantic fic, with that ever important dash of action/adventure. Perhaps even humour … if I can manage it…

Btw, chapters may be short, but if they are, they will be reasonably frequent. If I'm not going to post for a while, I'll try to put up a nice, long chapter so that you can last.

Disclaimer: It's not mine. Not even remotely. There, now you can't sue me! Ha!

The Day Is Bright Chapter Two:

And I Dream of You

By PrincesseAurora

He lay at her feet, spread-eagled, eyes open and glassy, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. He was dead. Yet she did not weep. She saw this every night, even months after she had found him again. Every night, without fail, Lirael dreamt of the Binding, of Nick's death. She no longer wept, for even her dream self knew that soon he would awake and take her in his arms. She looked at him again. Suddenly, something felt wrong. She looked down and saw her golden hand, the sunlight glinting off it. She shook her head and closed her eyes. That wasn't right. She opened her eyes again and looked into Nick's lifeless eyes. But he was not the thin, sick boy he was when Orannis was bound anew. Nor did she have her golden hand. Nor was there bright, clear sunlight. She shook her head again and looked back at Nick, not the Nick of her usual dreams, but the Nick of today. The Charter Mark on Nick's forehead was grey and dull. She realised this was not her usual dream, though it felt as real as life, just as her usual one's did. She heard a soft, unpleasant laughter, and the hair on the back of her neck rose.

You thought you had won, little girl? You thought all was safe? You were wrong. There came a fell voice, echoing around her, sending a chill down her spine.

He is everything to you. And for that, he dies. You are the death of him, Lirael. You stand as the voice of Astarael, the Sorrowful, and so you shall always have sorrow in your life, you shall always weep.

"Who are you?" she yelled, turning a full circle, but seeing none. "How do you know me?"

I know all, voice of Astarael. You did not think that the Nine are the ultimate powers in the Universe? Who gave them the power? We did, of course.

"We?" Lirael whispered. Those greater than the Nine themselves must be powerful indeed.

Yes, my brother, my sister, and I. The meddler she is, always convincing my brother to create new things when I destroy the old. Always nurturing things, keeping them out of my grasp. Helping all of you to bind my faithful servant again. But my brother's taken his eye off you and your beloved, and she can not hold me off alone. I will have my revenge, little one, first by taking back all that my sister has given you. Starting with him.

Lirael knew in her heart that the voice was speaking the truth. She looked back down at her love, and knew that she had caused his death. She flung herself on his still-warm body and let out a heart-wrenching wail of anguish.