Drabble 03

                                      Nightmare

She often woke up screaming.

It became a familiar sound in his tower, the monstrous beasts that haunted the lower levels of his home, raising their voices in howls that acknowledged the Valkyrie’s fear and pain. It made them restless, made them hunger to be near the source of that anguish, yearn to be the cause of her terror. One could not sleep with such a racket going on, not that Lezard attempted to, once he realized it was Lenneth who cried out.

He always made a point to fly to her side, his bare feet slapping against the floor as he burst into her room, clad in nightshirt and soft cotton pants. That first night, he was taken aback to see her still in bed, eyes closed, but thrashing about wildly, her mouth open to let out her screams. He was immediately by her side, taking her in his arms, gently shaking her awake. Her eyes would fly open, the blue of them almost lost to the dilated pupils, and he nearly fell off the bed when she flung herself into his arms, body shaking badly. It was then, and only then that she allowed Lezard to hold her without complaint, the Valkyrie clinging to him in her need.

Was it terrible of him to come to enjoy these quiet moments, to come to want her nightmares, to come to welcome her screams? It meant so little to her, but everything to him to be able to hold her like this, Lenneth willing and almost desperately needy. Even as he felt a flash of guilt, listening to her shuddery breaths as her voice fell silent, he couldn’t keep the pleasure he felt from holding her to quell up deep inside of him. It was during these moments that he sought to take advantage of her, in small simple ways, such as the caressing of her back, his fingers finding their way into her unbound hair, or his lips brushing upon her lobe as he whispered soothing words into her ear.

Lenneth didn’t seem to mind, too far gone to care. She’d often allow him to lay down next to her, snuggled safely in his arms, eyes fluttering close as he stroked her hair. Of course it was a different matter upon waking up in the morning. She had nearly killed him that first sunrise, attacking him with a fury that would do a harpy proud. It was only his magic, and her weak human body that kept her from doing permanent harm to the wizard.

Lezard often tried to talk to her about the nightmares, to try to get to the bottom of them. Lenneth refused to elaborate, and when pressed, she simply whispered, “I’m living it.”