(no subject)
Armand twitches in the chair.
Flashes of a dream come to him slowly.
On his knees, he looks around wildly, things flashing before him like memories or future-memories, and he clings desperately to the ground.
"ANA!"
He twitches, hearing the scream inside his own head. His hand tight on the arm of the chair.
Finds himself not so lost, but on a road he followed before, and he finds a small figurine in the mud when he falls to his knees, finding his shoe stuck in a root.
Whimpers, clinging tighter, fingernails digging into the soft leather.
He runs as fast as his feet can carry him, flying, almost, in the dank dark, and he stumbles more than once, hearing their voices calling him off the path, but he has the figurine now, he can make it with or without them, and he stumbles one last time as he finds the straight, foot catching a flagstone and flying, losing the figurine as he does so.
And he's silently urging him on, urging Richard to hurry up, because he knows, somehow, that this is Richard's dream. This is Richard's nightmare, and then, suddenly...
There's nothing.
Silence.
Quiet and lonesome sleep.
Armand's bloodlink has died, and he can't wake up, can't panic awake, it's still light outside... but how can it be...?
And suddenly, in his head, a small voice that says, "Maybe he's not planning on coming back..."
And in his sleep, Armand cries.
Flashes of a dream come to him slowly.
On his knees, he looks around wildly, things flashing before him like memories or future-memories, and he clings desperately to the ground.
"ANA!"
He twitches, hearing the scream inside his own head. His hand tight on the arm of the chair.
Finds himself not so lost, but on a road he followed before, and he finds a small figurine in the mud when he falls to his knees, finding his shoe stuck in a root.
Whimpers, clinging tighter, fingernails digging into the soft leather.
He runs as fast as his feet can carry him, flying, almost, in the dank dark, and he stumbles more than once, hearing their voices calling him off the path, but he has the figurine now, he can make it with or without them, and he stumbles one last time as he finds the straight, foot catching a flagstone and flying, losing the figurine as he does so.
And he's silently urging him on, urging Richard to hurry up, because he knows, somehow, that this is Richard's dream. This is Richard's nightmare, and then, suddenly...
There's nothing.
Silence.
Quiet and lonesome sleep.
Armand's bloodlink has died, and he can't wake up, can't panic awake, it's still light outside... but how can it be...?
And suddenly, in his head, a small voice that says, "Maybe he's not planning on coming back..."
And in his sleep, Armand cries.