Every day was the same for Theo. The sun rose. The sun set. In the middle he read, cooked and sometimes cleaned, because whenever his father left, which was often, the little house elf servant went with him. The tower was filled with books. The walls of the main round floor of the tower were filled with shelves and those shelves were packed with books. In some places they were two rows deep. His father always brought books when he came back from doing whatever it was that he did when he left. Theo had asked when he was younger. He quickly learned that it was better not to ask.
Once Theo had learned to read, he'd found that reading quietly was his best course especially when his father was home. His favourite books were epic tales - people going on quests, knights fighting dragons (despite the fact that Theo often found he had sympathy for the dragon), princesses under curses, the fey lords causing mischief in the realms of men.
Theo did enjoy reading history of the nine realms and their sacred twenty-eight kingdoms as well as the few books that he had found in the collection on divination. Theo often dreamed of things before they happened so he was interested in the study of such things. To be fair, all he dreamt of was usually a new jerkin his father would appear in or the title of the next book to arrive.
Theo blinked as he woke up in the early dawn light, his dream from the night before still fresh in his mind. A woman in a deep red cloak with eyes like honey and skin dark as tree bark, her curls wild and sparking with some magical power Theo had never before seen. At first, he was unable to perceive more than her, her energy was so all consuming. Theo had only ever seen women in the illustrations in his books, but this one was alive and vibrant. Her body was curvaceous and her lips smiled with mirth that she quickly hid. Like Theo, she was constantly referring to books. It appeared to Theo that she was similar to him and they would have much in common if they ever met. She was riding on horseback, a great white mare. Theo knew about different types of horses from one of his books.
Around her neck were several large runic amulets, and he sketched them in the little book he kept next to his bed for such a purpose.
Afterwards, he lay back and considered what else he had seen in the dream. Next to the woman on a massive white stallion had ridden the most beautiful man that Theo had ever seen, not that he had actually ever seen a real man other than his scarred old warrior of a father. This man had hair pale as starlight. The small golden circlet that decorated his brow was so delicate. He'd look better in silver, Theo thought.
His eyes were like storm clouds. His cheekbones were sharp and his expression haughty and proud. His lips were the pale peach of fresh fruit, and his skin was pale as a snowy winter dawn. And Theo found himself imagining what it would be like to have such a man kiss him, if those large ringed hands that sat so elegantly on his horse's pommel would feel soft or rough on Theo's cheeks.
Theo shook the thought away, surprised at himself for having fantasies about a man from his dreams. It wasn't the first time that he had had such a fantasy, he knew, but usually the man or woman was faceless, just hands and sensations in the dark, whether Theo was asleep or awake.
He hoped against hope that this was one of those dreams that would come true.