...what we dream of...

(( did you miss the tormented parts? * evil grin* mwhaaaa))


It hurt from a hundred bleeding cuts on her exposed back.

The excruciating pain made her writhe, as she lay there, broken, her upper body sprawled on the metal table.

She could take no more, yet the blessed oblivion wouldn't come. She felt the man's hands wrapping around her neck while he torn her apart...she couldn't breathe, her lungs were burning and her mind started to clutter, as she desperately and uselessly fought for air...


Laandra jumped from her troubled sleep, raising instinctively her hands to her neck in a defensive gesture. She greedily gulped the fresh air of the night, her heartbeats erratic and fast, drumming in her head.

A nightmare. Nothing more than a nightmare.

Except it was the third night in a row.

Rolling on a side, she curled up, her back against the wall.

It was getting to her.

No, she shouldn't be thinking of that. With a sigh that rocked her entire frame, she slid a hand under her face, and forced her mind elsewhere, to the strange notes and scribblings she and Raene had managed to decipher during the late hours of the night.

It was an old version of Darnassian, probable the tongue of their ancestors, before the Sundering...Raene herself had been born only after the tragic event, but surely they could have found someone to help them with the translation, if that was the case.

Laandra herself was reduced to admiring the simple, flowing grace of the text as Raene read out loud, only a word or two sounding familiar to her ears. True, she was good with languages. She had managed to learn the Common within less than a year and a half and now she spoke it with ease, with only a slight accent. She had even gathered a few sentences in Darnassian and found them useful during her stay in Ashenvale.

The documents she and Daria had snatched from the camp at Ordil'Aran seemed to be addressed to an unknown 'master' somewhere in Darkshore. Frowning, Laandra had remembered some rumors she had heard only days before in Auberdine. There was indeed a darker power rising over the land and that should not...was not to be allowed...as if the demonic forces remaining in the south, at Fellfire Hill and the curse of Felwood weren't enough...

She loved this land. As much as she loved her own people and what had once been a city of light so far away, out here, Shattrah...when she was a child... Her duty, her oaths...to fight the Legion, the demons, the evil, the corruption...

The pain.

The humiliation, the fear, the agony, the torture that made her flinch even now, laying safe a few meters away from Raene, who was sound asleep.

Control it. It's a thing past. You are stronger.

But there was no reassurance in her own words. Chilled inside, she curled even tighter, her eyes closed, fighting the steaming wave of emotions and terror that wanted to burst free.

You only are defeated because you chose to be so.

It stung.

Again, she wrestled her mind from the recollection of those horrible moments after the crash, and the next thing she could think of was Eireannan.

He would drive that pain away, through his simple presence.

His warmth. His will.

He could do that for her. Yet not for himself. He was so hurt she could feel it through her skin when they touched. Light, he had endured so much more pain than someone, even the worst of beings, should have been through... And he's not fine, no matter how hard he tries to pretend. On the inside he's bleeding and broken, hanging only to bits and shreds of what his life has been. Allowing himself to feel just so much so as to remember he is still alive.

I love him. Light knows I do.

And I want to save him, from his nightmares and his suffering...

The darkness, the demons...

But now I am as hurt as he is. How's that doing any good to us, if he sees me in pain, crawling under the blankets because I am afraid to open my eyes and face my fear?

Sobs racked her body again, the effort to control them so as not to awaken Raene or anybody else requiring all her strength.

Then a warm hand settling on her cheek, brushing away the strands of blue, soft hair. Eyes still tightly shut, she felt the other being curling against her, in a deep, protective hug...inhaled her scent, the warm breath on her skin, then, with a twinge of acceptance, just stood there,silent allowing Daria to comfort her.