*Dream 08*
She's lying on a large, ornate four-post bed in a similarly large, opulent room fit for a king... or a Prince.
Jaina - her hair shorter, but still recognizable as herself ... only younger, about 15 or 16 - is curled up at the side of a young blond man. Though they're in bed, they aren't... in bed, in bed. It's not quite sexual - the two of them are lying atop the covers, simply snuggling. Still, it's clear that they're very much in love, from the way that she looks up at him as she rests his hand on his chest.
"It was so strange, at that ceremony earlier," she murmurs. "The way everyone was treating you... they were acting like you were already the King."
The young man chuckles, looking down at her and brushing some hair from her face. "You shouldn't talk like that, Jaina. It'll only happen once Father dies, and ... I hope that is a day long off." His voice trails off at the end, and he looks up at the ceiling, falling silent.
Jaina frowns, sitting up in the bed. "You're nervous, aren't you?" She pauses, before looking away sheepishly. "I suppose that makes sense. The pressures of the crown are..."
He nods wordlessly, and she lies back down beside him. They say nothing for a long while, until the young man speaks again. "I can only hope that... when it is my time to inherit the throne, that I will be ready. I want to be a good King."
She's about to answer, when he repeats - "I want to be a good King," but there is something different in his voice. Something darker, something twisted ... suddenly, the boy bolts upright in bed, only he is no longer a boy, not even a man, but ... something else. His hair is white and wispy, his body clad from head to toe in cold steel armor, and he looks down at her with such a twisted grin that the girl shrinks back reflexively.
"I will be the greatest King," he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, as a long, jagged blade materializes from nowhere in his hands - and Jaina's scream is cut short as he plunges it through her stomach.
*She visibly gasps for air as she wakes up, her breathing heavy, her pulse pounding... but, of course, just a dream. No reason to be worried, right?*
Jaina - her hair shorter, but still recognizable as herself ... only younger, about 15 or 16 - is curled up at the side of a young blond man. Though they're in bed, they aren't... in bed, in bed. It's not quite sexual - the two of them are lying atop the covers, simply snuggling. Still, it's clear that they're very much in love, from the way that she looks up at him as she rests his hand on his chest.
"It was so strange, at that ceremony earlier," she murmurs. "The way everyone was treating you... they were acting like you were already the King."
The young man chuckles, looking down at her and brushing some hair from her face. "You shouldn't talk like that, Jaina. It'll only happen once Father dies, and ... I hope that is a day long off." His voice trails off at the end, and he looks up at the ceiling, falling silent.
Jaina frowns, sitting up in the bed. "You're nervous, aren't you?" She pauses, before looking away sheepishly. "I suppose that makes sense. The pressures of the crown are..."
He nods wordlessly, and she lies back down beside him. They say nothing for a long while, until the young man speaks again. "I can only hope that... when it is my time to inherit the throne, that I will be ready. I want to be a good King."
She's about to answer, when he repeats - "I want to be a good King," but there is something different in his voice. Something darker, something twisted ... suddenly, the boy bolts upright in bed, only he is no longer a boy, not even a man, but ... something else. His hair is white and wispy, his body clad from head to toe in cold steel armor, and he looks down at her with such a twisted grin that the girl shrinks back reflexively.
"I will be the greatest King," he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, as a long, jagged blade materializes from nowhere in his hands - and Jaina's scream is cut short as he plunges it through her stomach.
*She visibly gasps for air as she wakes up, her breathing heavy, her pulse pounding... but, of course, just a dream. No reason to be worried, right?*