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Everything blurred. Melting away with the rain. All wounds healed but he could not hold even his head from the ground. Even the effort to breath was too much. He had flesh, and blood again, but all the breathed life into was hollow and black. “Arwen…”
“Arwen” The name transcends the dream, coming like a distant cry on those gray lips. It was answered by a bugle. A full cry of frustration from Haldir, but he was distanced. Cheeks burning hot with tears he was retreating. The grief and agony too great. The weight too much, he withdrew trying to reach the gold’s thoughts. His mind struggled to rise some barrier to the gold’s, trying to separate himself. Shaking the antlered head the deer calls again, weakened and pleading. Let him be. Wake, and let this agony for the both of them cease. Thunder shook the cavern above the roar of rain. To share the pain, to be by the gold’s side as he had ever promised was too much. For once it was task to great for the deer. And he wept in his weakness.
‘Haldir’ Wet eyes look with shock about, to see a blurred cream figure, and the stag goes rigid. Instinct told him to leap forward, to lower his antlers. In his head he could even see it, but the gold’s state left his companion without the will. Then, the light cracked outside, and – Rexanna…
“Dawn will be here soon.” The femme voice returns, insistent, and weighted with worry. “Yes.” Came a mournful reply of the elder. Yet nothing happens. “He has grieved enough, they will be looking soon.” Her voice was colder. The warmth in her voice, the gentleness of her whispers were gone. The elder has no answer, he knows the grieving will never end.
A warmth presses on his neck, but gains only a groan. “Thranduil, wake up.” Earth eyes open, “Arwen?” But only Nellas is there.
“Arwen” It comes again, and Haldir shrinks. It had never gone this far. Only once had such nights come to pass in his short age, and never had the gold spoken. As Rexanna bent over his bonded, the deer was still distanced. Only when a warmth touched his shoulder did the stag look from his bonded. A wet black and white face stares back at him. The moon eyes stare into the black. Being pulled back from the lost depths of loneliness that dark times fed on. The white eyes shut away and antlered head dips to the small creature, burying itself into what little was there. Into what comfort there was, for it was ever so rare for the deer. A shout rings the cavern, and the stag looks to the still trapped figure of his bonded.
“Orac...” It trailed weak where only hours before it had been so strong. “I must…” The white bathed stallion at last clicked on the cloak, but his eyes, though blind, told the answer. “You can not.” The thin life the stallion held onto wavered, he sidestepped, only to hit Nellas as she did his own cloak. Nellas.
“Nellas.” The blue roan, who’s eyes held the weight of guilt (mistaken for grief), looked to him. “Nellas,, you must claim him.” The words came hot and hissing under the roar of rain beyond the trees. “Claim his innocence.” Yet the blue healer retracks. “Thra-” “I MUST BURY MY SON.” The roar shocks them all, and leaves the gold staggering. The mare instantly is at his side. “Nellas, you know what they will do.” As all traitors, the child’s body would be fed to the hounds, publicly in celebration. His age mattered not, unless someone spoke such.
“We must go. They know.” Oracle announced in the silence. “Nellas, promise.” The blue roan turned away. The vision grew hazy. The black wisps at the edge wrapping around. The memory and nightmare merging. With stumbling steps the gold tried to follow. Lightening overhead cracks. Nothing makes sense as the nightmare wraps to its vicious conclusion. Limbs hit his back and shoulders as he struggled to follow…follow who. “Arwen!”
“Arwen!” The voices stronger, louder, the height of fear and the terror. Haldir barks at the cream mare, but she’s already awaking what lay within.
Darkness opens to faces. Old and pale. Blue. White. To each he named, to each he remembered every feature. Then CRACK New and gold, without name or face. Rosen-
He gasped awake, body jerking to sit up, as white eyes found the fading colors in the cavern, and ears rang with the echoing crack. For a second he’s still, sides heaving, and wet ever still with sweat. Yet all his mind is washed in the dream still. The faces of those he knew, reluctant to return to ghostly forms. They had been remembered at last, and it caused the burn all the longer in his vision.
The stag in the corner does not move. He dares not. His mind, still weighted by the bond, is uncertain. What would happen now? He looked between his bonded and the glimmering with rain, Rexanna. Those who usually entered some sacred space of the gold were repelled, but this? He dared not move.
Nares, trembling between held breaths, exhale and the heavy head drops. Whether spoken to or through finally awakening the earthen eyes at last turn to the cream mare. How many things can be shown through silence. The zoned out earth eyes look for a moment blinking blankly, confused and questioning. Then they focus, and heat. Nostrils flare and his chest puffs, the comings of anger. Haldir’s head ducks as what he feared seemed to awake.
But this was not like other times. There is nothing left, the draining memories still lay freezing upon his bones, and chest. So the anger tumbles away like a fallen barrier, and he drops all defenses. When he speaks at last, it is surrender to her presence, to the truth of those nightmares, to his failures. “Rexanna.”
OOC:: Just so you OOC people know!
Thranduil wants to sneak back in and claim/bury his son, because since he is a bastard child, son of this wreck of relationship Thranduil is afraid the people's anger will be placed on the babe (its been done before). Like most enemies it will suffer an unhonorable destruction, and left unburied (a huge insult/wrong doing). So he begs Nellas to do it, but duh love triangle.
And then nightmarish dream weirdness.
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