Because She Wants Me To Be.
Well. Here's a one-shot I had started ages ago (for a Spec-fanfic entry I think!) and stumbled across tonight when I was reviewing my backup. So I decided to finish it. Rather than turn it into an epic that'd get swept under the rug and forgotten about, I thought I'd put something up finished for once :P
In honour of Obernewtyn getting it's own category! Huzzuh!
Min

The sand quaked and rippled, preceding a hushed rumble in the south. Someone from the old life, perhaps one of those teknic-types, had told me once that sound traveled slowly. For us, time traveled slowly.

Then again, too quickly also. Much time had passed since the New Life had begun; time that would never be regained.

The rumbling echoed on the sandy rock mountains, sending pebbles and grains scattering over my bare back like hailstones.

It was always the same. Everyone knew that the Machine was being used but none spoke of it. Only the Elite Guard were allowed to use the Machine. Trying to scare everyone into believing it was a monster, that some actual living beast took delight in devouring people. Like something out of a silly story.

My shovel struck rock; I cursed silently and tried again. The rock would not yield.

A crash alerted me a little too late that one of the boulders above me had yielded. The heat must have gotten to me. Instead of sidestepping the boulder, I looked up stupidly into it's rough-hewn earthy face. It isn't that big, I thought.

Thunk.

Detachment - a separation of the body and mind – and the undulating, shimmering feeling that comes with it, roused me from the blackness of unconsciousness. Immediately I remembered the rock that had struck me, and attempted to rise back to a higher level of consciousness.

There was an alien question; very faint, almost discountable, but for it's resonant heat. It stopped me. I voiced a question of my own.

It came again – thin and trembling, but warm, without words or even emotion – it just was.

Then I followed it. The detachment was complete and I escaped my crude body.

'Stop it ye fool,' a figure tugged on my mind to keep me from proceeding. 'Ye canna walk these dreamtrails on yer own, no matter how smart ye think ye are.'

'I know you,' I replied dumbly.

'Open yer eyes and see, Matthew.'

A slightly greenish swirling fogged what must have been spirit-vision. The othermind's dream-form came into view. It was a she-mind from the otherlife. Maryon.

'Why did you seek me?' I gaped, feeling as though ice-water had been thrown over me.

'I dinna seek ye,' the tall Futureteller Guildmistress grabbed my spirit form's arm and dragged me through the nothingness. 'We all ken who seeked ye, an' set out to find ye afore she did.'

I wanted to ask who but Maryon didn't give me time.

'Her hate is justified. Ye were a right ass to her ye ken,' she scolded.

Hate?

Through the darkness of the dreamtrail swam a multitude of structures made of stone and rusted metal. A place from the otherlife, I recognized immediately. It was the ruined library, just outside of Aborium, where they'd found her. I'd naught been before, but had it described to me in those gibberish few moons when she had first arrived at Obernewtyn, to save us all.

The moon was high and full, overpowering the stars.

'Why are we here?'

'She needs to see ye.'

'I thought we were avoidin' her!'

Maryon ceased dragging my arm and turned a full circle, very slowly. 'She's here. Canna ye feel it?'

In my peripheral vision, I noticed movement, but when I turned there was nothing.

Scattered lights budded around us like fairy-creatures.

I turned my eyes away, remembering that I no longer believed in those sorts of things; fairy lights and ghosts and dragons-

'Dragons!' the call awoke my senses and a feverish trembling feeling ran the length of my spine. The hairs of my neck stuck up and a cool breeze swashed over them as though a feather had been run along my spine. I shivered.

'Where are they – where is she?' I asked Maryon suddenly, unable to stop the desperation from escaping with my words.

'Open yer eyes Matthew.'

I looked. Fairy-lights were bobbing away excitedly over the ruined structures in one direction.

In the other rose a scarlet mist, surrounding the Dragon. It was wild, beautiful and exotic at the same time.

'Dragon,' I whispered, in fear and in sadness.

Her name reverberated in my mind like a mantra and I felt myself being drawn calmly to the Dragon as the scared little fairy lights bobbed away.

'Ah, cowards! There's nothing to fear,' a rough, and real, voice intoned from somewhere amongst the twisted, deteriorated debris. There was a familiar peal to the voice, a hint of an accent so unlike Maryon and my own highland drawl, yet so familiar, I knew another moment of homesickness.

'Wha' are we really doin' here, Maryon?' I tried again.

'Remember who ye're talking to, man,' she hushed me abruptly, though not intending to offend, I could see. Maryon's attention was on the Dragon, her eyes wide and bright – excitement shook her dream-form. 'If I kent, would I tell ye?'

True. Maryon rarely told anything she thought one could learn for themselves. I turned back to the Dragon.

'They fear what they don't know. You have to admit, it's kind of spooky,' another real voice called out cheerfully.

Spooky.

The spooks took hold of me when I saw her; frail and muddy. And tiny. I'd forgotten how tiny Dragon had been, when they'd first brought her to Obernewtyn. Had I even been that small? The blues of her eyes darted like startled fish as she crept around broken columns, crouching, watching the others approach like a wary cat.

Maryon's spirit form – I'd forgotten she was there – sighed.

'Back to th' beginnin'?'

I turned and queried her. 'Th' beginnin' of wha'?'

'Her beginning. To where she has regressed,' Maryon explained.

'Tha' clears tha' up,' I answered. Bloody Futuretellers.

I watched instead. Watched, and learned first hand, how the small party had come upon Dragon. How Elspeth had grabbed her attention, gained her trust.

'Why am I here?' I called out.

'Because she wants you to be here.'

I groaned when I woke, my head stabbing cruelly. I found myself in the slaves bay. Someone must have brought me back. I stumbled outside into the balmy night air, plodding determinately in an effort to clear my head. If I was caught, there would be trouble; but I would not be caught.

What in Lud's name had that Dragon vision been all about? That girl…she'd dream of me night and day, but rally a group to come find us? No. She preferred the concept of me to the real me.

I laughed, out loud, then ducked behind some trees. I was playing right into her game, letting her get to me like this.

I settled behind the trees on the dust and shook my head with amusement.

'You fool,' I heard Elspeth say in my mind. Elspeth's voice spoke to me often; I thought of her as the more sensible side of my conscience. Who was she to call me a fool?

'You ARE a fool, Matthew,' she reiterated. 'Dragon is not like other people. She doesn't play games to torment you, or dream of you just to annoy. It's not always about you. She is hurting, through fault of her own and yours, for caring.'

I pushed the Elspeth-voice away and stood, kicking at the dusty pebbles at my feet. Trust Elspeth – even just as a part of my conscience – to bring up how mean I had been to Dragon. I never asked for her affections, yet she followed me like a lost lamb. Did anyone stop and think how annoying that was?

I turned and raised my head, determined to put Dragon from my mind.

And faced the portrait of the Red Queen.

Ha. Why am I here? Because she wants me to be here.