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Date Posted: 10:58:52 07/18/02 Thu
Author: moondreamer
Subject: Dreams 8
In reply to: moondreamer 's message, "Dreams (PG13)" on 16:27:20 06/29/02 Sat

Chapter 8

The weak, watery rays of morning sun had already started melting the dusky clouds of night. The city was starting to wake, not that it ever really slept. But the keepers of the night watch faded with the dusk; giving way to those of the day.

The dark shadow moved quickly through the rooftops. Somehow managing to be a part of both the departing night, and the newly ushered day. A sure purpose guided the shadow’s path. An urgent need called to him.

Ian cursed harshly under his breath as he realized what time it was. He was late for his visit to Lady Sara and he dreaded what he would find. It was not his fault, truly it was not. Kenneth Irons had been exceptionally demanding this past evening. As the night wore on Ian had failed to hide his impatience. Recognizing this, Irons had drawn the evening out. Toying with Ian, as would a cat with a small rodent trapped in its paw.

Several times during the early morning hours Irons had feigned tiredness, hinting at bringing an end to the evening and releasing Ian from his duties; only to then retract his words. His barely concealed delight at Ian’s growing frustration was an example of his wondrously evil intent. He did not know what Ian’s need was, all he needed was to enjoy thwarting it.

Finally Ian arrived at Sara’s building. Without hesitation he entered through her window. As he had feared, without his intervention Sara had been trapped in the dream for who knew how long. Her face was wet with unknowingly shed tears. Her skin was pale and clammy with the sweat of a thousand lifetimes of agony. She tossed wildly, restlessly; her face contorted with the effort required to endure.

Ian flung off his coat. This time not watching where it fell. Uncaring as his focus sharpened on Sara. He rushed to her bed. Falling on his knees beside the mattress he stretched out his hand. He was horrified at the external results of her vision. He brushed the sweaty strands of hair off her face. Tracing one finger delicately over her skin he watched as the tortured lines of her face smoothed behind its gentle path. He climbed onto the mattress, his fingers never losing contact with her skin. Stretching his full length out beside her he enfolded her in his loving arms and began murmuring his feelings to her. Expressing his sorrow and failing her; calling her back to him. Closing his eyes he attempted to reach his very soul out to her.

***

Where there had been heat, now there was coolness.

Where there had been despair, now there was hope.

Where there had been pain, now there was release.

Sara could feel herself slowly relax as a cool, dark breeze blew through her vision. A balm of healing sensation seeking and soothing each tortured nerve ending. The agonizing nightmare was finally at an end. She felt tears start anew, this time in relief. He had come at last. She had not been forsaken.

Waking up in small increments Sara could feel each muscle he pressed up against her. Hidden beneath his layers of clothing was strength undreamed of by most. Experienced by few. And she savored the sensation. Desperately she replaced each painful memory with one of pleasure, seeking to reclaim her humanity.

Silently, in her mind, she catalogued each minutely pleasing item. The softness of his beard, the warm, spicy scent of his flesh, the deep, flowing honey of his voice. Each of these teasing pleasures she carefully wrapped and placed into her heart. Her outer flesh finally relaxed; catching up to her soul. Her entire weight sinking into his frame. She felt safe, protected and somehow loved.

Her eyelids were too heavy to open - her body too grateful to move. With a gentle sigh she left her head drop against him fully and felt herself drift off to a healing sleep. Part of her wanted to stay awake, aware of this moment. But the night had been too exhausting and she gave herself up to the peace that brought to her.

***

Ian felt his own silent tears slip down his face as he felt her finally relax into his arms. He did not know why The Witchblade exacted such a price from his Lady. He did not know why this cruel penance was necessary. He was just grateful that it let him bring her ease.

He hummed to her softly, rocking her gently in his arms and promising her that he would always be there for her. Binding his soul to The Witchblade once again he asked only that even in death he be allowed to be the one to comfort his Lady.

Once again the morning hours passed too swiftly for Ian. Reluctantly he untangled her limbs from his and rose from her bed. Reaching down he dared to place his lips upon hers. Breathing in her sweet breath and lightly caressing her lips with his. Silently he vowed to not let anything keep him from her again. Silently, he wished they would acknowledge these moments.

With a heavy sigh he gathered his coat from the floor where he had discarded it only a short time before. He paused as he reached her window, there on the floor, unnoticed by him in his hurried entry, was a small package. His name was written upon it in Sara’s handwriting.

Picking it up he looked at it in wonder. Sara stirred in her bed and he swiftly exited her apartment. Stopping on the roof he unwrapped the package with shaking hands. Soon the layers of wrapping were peeled away and he held a small, black velvet pouch in his hands.

He removed his gloves and reached inside the pouch. His fingers touched a cool, smoothly faceted surface. Pulling gently on the object he exposed the crystal dragon to the morning light. The sun’s rays lightly touched the dragon, sending a beam through it and illuminating it from the inside. He drew his breath in sharply as the beauty it exposed.

A small piece of paper lay under the dragon. He opened the note and read the words out loud to the empty sky.

“Ian, I hope this little creature will watch over you; as you watch over me. I know I’ve never said it, but thank you.”

His face broke into a smile that rivaled the beauty of the sun. He raised his arms in exultation and kissed the note with grateful lips. His lady did appreciate his efforts. There was for Ian, finally hope.

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