"Wake up." The sharp command brought from the cold darkness I was in, to blinding light. I sat up quickly, tears in my eyes, to discover that I was still in the Old City. The light I had experienced was caused by a late afternoon shaft coming from a crack in the roof above me.
"So I am not dead." I muttered to myself, starting to stand when a fresh wave a throbbing agony engulfed me. I fell forward sobbing as the world darkened for a moment and then became snow white. Grabbing my side, I felt warm liquid run through my fingers and looking down, realized it was my blood. The night before came back to me in vivid detail. The moment when I realized he was awake shone the brightest followed by the searing pain of something cold slide into my flesh.
I slumped forward, my hearts hammering at what had happened. Death seemed only moments away… "You need to bandage the wound. "I looked up quickly, caution being a friend, to discover no one was there.
"Hello?" I murmured, my words stirring the dusty air before me. I was replied with silence and shaking my head started to stand when the swirl in the dust before me made me hesitate. I was in the respectful position of kneeling; my body unable to move from the spot in was in. My body cried out against this motion by pumping more blood from the wound and I stifled a groan, the world starting to dim again. Then there was a slender hand gently touching the underside of my chin, slowly lifting my head to see my face. The world stopped as I recognized who I was bowing to and a small shiver ran down my back. He smiled.
"You don't seem to heed orders well." I started; my indignation at the comment making his lips twitch into a soft smile. "Do not worry little one. You are not the type to heed orders."
"Then what type am I?" The question came free before I could restrain it and a wave of panic surged through me. Legends had claimed the man who stood before me to be a warrior; a man who had faced Death in hand to hand combat and won. I lowered my head quickly, waiting for a rebuke to my insolence. I knew what I had done, so thus I must be punished for it. Instead I felt the air around him move as his long body elegantly slid into the kneeling position in front of me.
" Why do you kneel my lord?" I murmured trying to force some humility into my voice at the sight of him in my presence.
" Why do refuse to look at me, my indyo?" I gasped as his words registered.
" Now you understand." His voice was surprisingly smooth, the accent pitched just right to send a river of pleasurable warmth through my battered system. I smiled slightly trying not to appear too prideful about this new development.
" You need to bandage the wound or you will die. I have seen this wound many times. It has pierced your left kidney and if you do not bandage the wound you will die a slow and horrible death. " His right hand was on my chin again, making my head move upwards and with his other hand, he peeled away my blood encrusted hand to look at the wound properly.
" How are you touching me?" He glanced up quickly with a look of offense in his gray eyes and I realized how what I said sounded.
" I… I meant how could you be physically touching me. You have been dead for nearly 5 millennia. " He chuckled, the offense of earlier blown off.
" We are Dragonborn." The frankness was abrupt and shocking for his position in our society.
"Dragonborn?" The question echoed throughout the ruins and I could have sworn the entire air shimmered with heated authority.
" Have you ever noticed that you are the only one who is left handed? Though your father has tried to spur from the habit of using it, it makes life easier if you do?" I shrugged.
" That is what it means to be a Dragonborn."
" Because I am left handed? There are probably loads of Gallifreyans who are left handed that I have not met yet…" He stood; the feline grace stirring the dust motes into a playful dance as he turned his back on me. I could see my blood on his hands.
" The trait had been properly removed from the genetics of this culture many millennia before I was born. My father made the mistake of believing I was like all the others and left me to my own devices. After learning from what a Dragonborn was, I vowed to keep it a secret from all." He turned once more to face me and bending over, took my face in his hands.
" But then you were born. Another like me, a Dragonborn." His voice cracked slightly on the last syllable and I realized how much he needed me and how much I needed him. We were bound together since the day each of us was born; another person who knew what it meant to keep a secret; a very deadly secret.
" There is a book in the library of this place, I took it from my father when I left his home. Find it and then you will understand completely." The sentence was not a request but a command and the warmth that had come from his voice became once more icy with distain and contempt. I stood, my side screaming with pain.
" You said I did not heed orders well." He smiled. " I also said that you were not the type to heed them either."
" What did you mean by that?"
" I believe I meant that you weren't meant to follow orders of your own volition."
" I follow them if I want to. "
"If you want to. That is my point."
" What? That I am stubborn?" He took a step forward, closing the gap in between us and I realized how shirt I was compared to him. Glancing up, I made eye contact with him, the gray turning into a violet blue color.
" You are stubborn, very much like me. But you are not the type to heed orders." I lowered my head in shame, my questions going unanswered. I felt his hand on my chin again, pressing upward until I made eye contact again. Smiling, he leaned forward a placed a small kiss on my forehead.
" My little indyo, you are the type to give them." And slowly he faded, becoming one with the dust and the sunlight until once again I was left alone in the remnants of a lost dream.
If you are good at guessing which character, then PM me and tell me who you think it is. (Hint: From the Hobbit and is an elf.)