To sleep, perchance to dream

[olive]

Date: April 18, 2010
Time Frame: 2-3pm
Place: BPRD halls
Status: Invite/PM

-----------------------------

Nuala stared back at the agent in charge of her martial arts lesson. The human’s dark brown eyes viewed her with a stern regard. This was all very serious in nature, and not to be taken lightly.

“I want you to practice your roundhouse kick, it’s a little sloppy,” he said, hitting the hand-held pads together.

A look of nervousness came over her face. Sloppy? She had been excellent in gymnastics. So why did the martial arts have to be so hard for her to master? She straightened her body and wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead. No one had been watching her before, but as more individuals entered the gymnasium, she could feel a few curious eyes on her. She was beginning to wonder why she agreed to this training in the first place. She was a pacifist, and did not think this fighting would ever be necessary. But something inside her mind was nagging at her to gain the ability to protect herself. She could not be a damsel in distress forever.

Before beginning her routine again, she bowed forward as the karate master taught her, and her braided hair fell forward over her left shoulder. She raised her torso up slowly and moved into her fighting stance.
“We’re going to mix it up, I’m going to move the pad and you need to meet it with a punch or a kick, but I will be moving around you too.”
The princess nodded, putting her hands up and moving forward on her bare feet. Awkwardly, she kicked and punched at the pads. She was already exhausted from the exercise.

“Common, Princess, release your anger…get some force in your hits”

“I’m not….an…angry…person,” she choked out as she continued.
Seeing she was weary, her trainer halted and lowered his hands.

“I think you need to rest, highness. You’ve lost your focus.”

Nuala nodded. Usually when others spoke to her in a familiar tone, it was seen as rude and disrespectful. She realized, however, that this was not her homeland, and she was considered to be just another person; and equal. She was beginning to grow accustomed to it, and even appreciate it. She had been placed precariously on a pedestal as a princess, and she was ready to come down to earth.

“Thank you for our lesson today, Agent Johnson” she smiled wearily and waited for him to depart.

“don’t forget to practice on your own, and to cool down today.” Together, they bowed, concluding their week’s lesson.

She took her time to cool down, ignoring the feeling of embarrassment that came over her as others seemed to glance at her. She sank down onto the mat and stretched her limbs, lasting no more than five minutes before she retreated, using her room to shower and change. She could not yet use the locker room.

She dressed herself in a long, white cotton dress and a pale blue cardigan to cover her arms. Her damp hair was tied back it a french braid once more.

As she left her room, she took a deep breath, and was determined to go for a walk through the halls. She hoped that could run into dear Abraham. She had been unintentionally distant lately, but that was due to her lack of sleep. She had spent much of her time attempting to meditate and quell her nightmares and the feeling of dread that had come over her.

As she lurked the hallways, she lifted her long skirt in front of her and sneakily approached the door to Abraham’s library. She peered in, hoping he would be there, and not be there at the same time. If he was there, she would have the opportunity to speak with him; and if he was not, she would not have to articulate her reasons for avoiding the presence of others. She saw that one of the heavy library doors were ajar and her heart began to race. On reaching the threshold, she hesitated, swallowing her breath before reaching a hand out to knock, warning any within of her presence.

“Abraham?” she called out, softly and almost inaudibly. She breathed finally and edged her way into the room, her eyes searching for signs of life. Breathing slowly, she pressed her back against the door that remained close, prepared to slip back out if she was intruding on a matter of greater importance than herself.

[Abe Sapien]

The touch of water on his feet was heavenly and Abraham submerged the rest of his lanky frame into the crystal clear water of his library tank and drifted with his eyes closed. He breathed deeply and felt little air bubbles escape his parted lips and across his tightened skin. The natural waves his body initially made when he entered the tank from above spanned out and overlapped and he let the vague current of the filtration carry him. He always sank first before the natural buoyancy of his body took hold and he casually lofted a arm to turn himself and curled his legs under him. Slowly the drying tightness dissipated and he could feel his gills loosen with each breath. He mentally scolded himself to keep more hydrated and not completely forgot when he was absorbed in his work and a certain elven princess.

Abraham smiled to himself and he twisted his body, curling his spine almost unnaturally as he turned himself completely upside down. He kept his legs tucked close and stretched his arms all the way out to his sides as if he was balancing. The days and nights she had spent with her, talking, sitting on the floor beside the fireplace with a mountain of books to be poured through, he wanted to hear everything about her homeland. She had been so patient with his questionings like a giddy child in school and then their time seemed to drift apart. His nights had been spent alone in his tank when he wasn’t swept away in a mission or pulled along to help an agent’s paper work. Up until she had arrived, there had only been one woman in his life and he loved his dear fiery sister so but even she had a growing family to take care of. The ghost of the princesses presence mingled with the darker half of her soul, lingering memories that were private echoed faintly. The elven prince; angry, frustrated and great and his beloved princess; strong, frightened and willing to be defiant. And in the silence of the library, he was privy to them. He looked once without meaning to weeks later but they remained forever in his own. The resonance of Nuala was strong and it overshadowed her true company until she spoke.

“Abraham?”

Was he dreaming in that moment? He opened his eyes. “Your highness?” His voice was always softer in his tank, muffled by the thick unobscuring glass wall. Abe unraveled his body from the lotus position he had settled in and kicked off with his toes on the far wall to glide to the glass one. He slid a webbed hand up against the glass and it squeaked sharply along the surface as he leaned close enough to brush his forehead across it to peer out at the single and delicate form of whispering colors of white and blue against the background of the wooden door. It seemed to loom over her and the man curled his head, raising his hand higher in a soft wave. What had felt like forever, seem so frivolous now to see her, the length of time would be disputed later. He didn’t say anything for a moment, though words were bubbling up from him. All that matter was that she was here with him.

[olive]

Nuala’s eyes drifted to the tank, where she spotted Abraham’s form. As he replied her breath caught in the back of her throat, causing her to clear her throat. Your Highness: it sent a slight twinge through her mind when he addressed her this way. Unnecessary: the thought swept across her thoughts as she took a few fluid steps forward. She stopped half an arm’s length away from the class and tilted her head upwards to greet her dear Abraham with a soft smile.

“Please, Abraham…can you not call me Nuala?” she asked sheepishly, her pale cheeks gaining a slight golden glow. Her gaze fell away for a moment and she set her fingertips against the pane, opposite the place where Abraham’s rested. “At least when we are in the pleasure of each other’s company, and no others are around?” she offered, her lilting accent carrying feebly through the glass. Her smile widened and she looked at him once more before looking around for a vacant arm chair.

When she spotted one, she moved towards it, and brought it back with her, setting it facing the tank, and not far from it.

“If I may,” she began. “I was hoping to spend some time with you today. I know it is short notice, but even if you can spare mere moments, it will be enough for today.” She took a seat in that moment, maintaining her regal posture, and refraining from slouching in the chair—though she desperately desired to. She faltered with how to continue herself, and her tired eyes fell to her lap as she contemplated her next words. She took a deep breath, releasing it as an exhausted sight.

“I wish to apologize for how distant and distracted I have been lately.” she lifted her face that was delicately frames by a few loose strands of her platinum hair. “I know… unlike others, we can sense things from each other, but articulating these feelings helps, I think.” another light smile played across her face. She knew Abraham needed to spend a significant amount of time in the water, but was wishing a plate of glass was not between them; she mused at jumping into the water, clothes and all, but she would not be able to breathe in the water, the way the Icthyo sapiens could. She dismissed the thought with a quiet laugh and covered her face with her hand, hiding her amusement at her own thoughts. It was then that she relaxed into the back of her chair and let her hands rest in her lap.

“I have been very tired lately…”

[Abe Sapien]

His fingers curled slightly against the glass and fanned out, spreading the glossy webbing between each digit. She stepped to him and her delicate form seemed to glide across the floor with ease and he pushed slightly back, kicking languidly to keep him floating in the same spot. Abraham’s mouth parted as if intended to speak and instead took a deep breath and little bubbles drifted from the feathery gills around his neck. Unnecessary. He felt it, a soft whisper of a trailing thought and curled an invisible ear to his shoulder and bowed his head. Nuala. A reverent whisper back, daring to speak it out loud only for it fade on his tongue. Dark eyes closed slowly, the water soothing and when he reopened them, she was within his grasp. His gaze drifted to her pale hand and his followed the placement of her fingers, mirroring them.

When she moved away, the man leaned closer to the wall of glass and watched with an odd fascination as the princess found a place to seat. It was strangely amusing to see the elven maiden move a chair and with more grace than a waltz. He sighed, bubbles slipping from his mouth.

“If I may,” she began. “I was hoping to spend some time with you today. I know it is short notice, but even if you can spare mere moments, it will be enough for today.”

“Oh?” The surprise was clearly evident in his louder volume and he winced in a slight rise of his shoulders. “Of course, your high… of course,” he continued in a softer and slower note, attempting to cover his sudden giddiness. “My time belongs to you.” No matter how he said it, the corniness of it was even within his grasp and he curled his body to face the princess better. Both hands met the window at her weary sigh, sliding them together to encompass her form in a facade embrace.

“I wish to apologize for how distant and distracted I have been lately.” … “I know… unlike others, we can sense things from each other, but articulating these feelings helps, I think.”

Abraham met the golden gaze, the otherworldly color drawing him closer until he bumped his forehead against the glass. A palm squeaked against it and he gave a gentle wave. “There is nothing to be sorry for. You have every right to feel as you do. I am… glad that you are here.” Articulating? Wasn’t he suppose to be the well versed individual here? Able to lecture at a drop of a hat on an infinite numeral of matters and things. Abe’s gills fluttered in the water as he sighed. So why was it so hard to simply speak. The odd thought of teaching her to swim was irritably pushed away and even at her laughter, he wanted to beside her.

“I have been very tired lately…”

Itchy, dry skin be damned, he was coming out. Arcing a hand high above his head, he kicked solidly to bring him to the surface of his tank. The break from water to air was uncomfortable, making the gills shudder in desperation for air before he took a careful breath and his body adjusted to the subtle change. Abraham climbed out of his tank, using the metal railing to the open door that led to the second floor. It didn’t matter that he was dripping wet and quickly made his way down the spiraling staircase towards the princess, stopping short of her. His hands came up to his waist with elbows bent and the man folded one hand atop the other to stop him from looking beyond.

“Nuala.” So very carefully he said her name as if afraid she would vanish at his defiance. “I’m.” His hands didn’t stay still for long and the top one lofted up as if offering it and he drew closer to her. “Here, if you wish to talk.”

[olive]

As she felt him approach, she sat up her hands moving to brace against the arms of the chair. Abraham, please don’t cause yourself discomfort she thought, biting her lower lip. A slight frown of remorse played across her ivory face. When he spoke her name, her expression changed back into a smile.

“I’m here if you wish to talk.”

As he neared her she stood quickly and bridged the space between them, she gently touched his cheek, before taking his outstretched hand in hers. If she focused, she would not read him, and it took all her concentration to prevent it. This was not because curiosity ate at her; but because it was so natural for her to use her powers, they were second nature. However, she cared deeply for Abraham, and wanted to respect his privacy.

“I…” She shut her eyes tightly and looked over to another chair. “Let us sit down.” She nodded and released his hand, turning to retrieve another chair so she may set it beside hers. Stalling, she adjusted their position so they would be sitting beside each other, though tilted in a way that they could see each other. Satisfied, she sat down and smoothed the thin cotton fabric over her legs. She waited for Abraham to join her.

“I have been having such frightful nightmares, Abraham. I have never seen such unspoken horrors in my unwaking hours.” A look of pain played across her face. “Except maybe one other time in my Life.” she took a deep breath. “Ages ago, when my brother was fighting against the human armies, and before the Golden Army was built.” She had to turn her gaze into her lap, but swiftly placed her face into her hands.

“I cannot tell if the emotions I feel in my dreams…the thoughts I sense from my brother’s presence are reflective of his waking self, or if they are mere dreams themselves. He is full of so much anger and hatred.”

She took a deep breath and lifted her head to gaze into Abraham’s eye with the utmost earnestness. “I am trying so many things to makes these dreams stop: yoga, meditation, martial arts, gardening, herbal teas… but every night I keep myself up out of fear of what I may see in my dreams. I can’t bear to watch him kill Bureau agents… or to hurt you.”

She sat forward in her chair, her hands gripping the armrests desperately. “I fear what is to come. Our kingdom’s throne remains empty…”

[Abe Sapien]

Her touch was so gentle; he glanced down to make sure she was actually holding his hand. Abraham brushed his thumb across her knuckles, arching it carefully to avoid an accidental brush of the thick nail and the thin webbing between his digits stretched to encompass. They came together so easily and had he been a bolder man, he would have wondered if their bodies fit together in a loving embrace. She spoke and his gills stilled to hear her ethereal voice but just as quickly she broke away, leaving his hand to hover and curled as if waiting for hers to return. Instead, he lowered it to his waist and cupped his other hand to fill the missing warmth.

It felt as if she kept her back to him, perhaps longer than necessary before she offered the chair to the fish man. He sat down without hesitation, studying her delicate features and nearly missed the chair, hitting a butt cheek on the way down to land a little crookedly. He straightened, if only to see her better and placed his hands in his lap. It was both of manners and a habit, the chairs were used by so many, memories tended to pile upon one another and he wished for nothing to distract him from the princess.

Abraham remained silent through the princess outpouring of emotions, what could he truly say to the growing darkness of the other half of her soul. He could never truly hate the prince as so many of his brethren did, it would be hating a part of Nuala and yet he couldn’t help the frustration at his outright selfishness. The madness he had seen posses the twin, it was frightening but rather dwell on the fear, he admired her resolve through it all. She was so much stronger than she let herself believe.

“I fear what is to come. Our kingdom’s throne remains empty…”

Abraham edged off the chair, folding long limbs to scoot the hairs breadth between then and settled on his knees before the princess. Slender fingers reached up and wrapped around the white knuckles of the elven maiden, gently prying them from the armrest and drew them together so that he was able to wrap his hands around her, carefully enfolding them. A few drops of water dripped from his body, pattering softly on the edges of her elegant dress but Abraham was focused on the solemn face before him. The gills along his neck fluttered and stilled before he spoke.

“Will you show me?” His fingers tensed along hers, expecting her to withdraw at such a bold proposal. “Your dreams and your nightmares. Only them, if you so desire.” The gills fluttered again, remembering to breath in her presence. “I do not fear your brother’s wrath, I would face it one hundred fold to remain at your side. I will not let you face this alone.” Abraham inclined up, digging his toes into the carpet to draw closer to the princess. “Stay with me.” It was almost a whisper, swallowed by the pounding of his heart so desperate to leap out of his chest and he did his best to continue. “I make for a very good defense against the boogeyman.”

[olive]

Nuala did not withdraw, but sat perplexed. Her brow furrowed with displeasure at the thought of inflicting such horror on her beloved Abraham. She breathed slowly as she gazed back into his eyes.

“How could I desire the passing on of such dreadful images.” She whispered. She did not sound outraged at his request, but mournful. She knew sharing this burden would alleviate some of worries shrouding her mind, but she was afraid of how is opinion of her might change.

“Stay with me.”

Her wide, terrified eyes fell on her champion and she could relax, if only for a moment. “I can only pray that the way you look at me will not change after this.” She breathed deeply, preparing to bring Abraham into her mind’s eye. Her left hand gently grasped his, and she leaned forward, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his. “Close your eyes, and don’t let go of my hand,” she warned, gently.

With a whir of color, she brought forth the dream. They seemed to be sitting in an old, dead tree, strangled with lush green vines. She looked over to Abraham and gestured to the stream beside them. Two small elven children, her brother and herself, played in the stream, laughter echoing through the field. They were dressed in white robes, nearly indistinguishable from the one another. A feeling of calm surrounded the vision. Happiness and bliss. One of the twins began to throw pebbles into the water. The sky turned rough; stained with dark clouds and the grass began to die. The stream turned red. The young Nuala turned in horror as her dress stole the red from the water. She searched for her brother, who was suddenly missing.

As the scene shifted, the tree where the real Nuala sat with Abraham stayed in place, while the land ebbed and flowed with images and emotions. Terror began to build up. The older Nuala in a red dress rushed through the trees and into the throne room; empty save for the form of her older brother standing over the petrified corpse of their father.

“The final piece my sister,” Her brother's voice boomed and reverberated all around them, though he did not yell. The walls crawled with creeping vines, blossoming black flowers and dieing rapidly, completing many life cycles in mere moments.

These was a memory melded into her dream, Nuala’s clothes shifted over her form to the black dress she wore that night. She was closer to her brother than she had been when it happened. He turned to her and stroked her cheek.

“You know I am right, sister.”

With little effort, she turn to run, her dress shifting again to blue. And the scenery shifted to the troll market. Figures of BPRD agents populated the streets in place of the faerie folk. Her brother pursued her, slashing through agents as they tried to stop him. As each body fell, they exploded in ash. Running through Hellboy, Abe and Liz, she fell and slid into a into a dark corner. She was no longer dressed in her elven garb, but an over-sized uniform standard to the BPRD.

“Traitor!” Her brother’s voiced echoed over the crowd and she scrambled to her feet. Other voices chanted the word from all around her. She could not move as her brother fought against Hellboy, stabbing him in the way he had once before. Liz, with her round belly shot up in blue flame, but her brother grabbed at her throat despite the burn they would both receive. Both Nuala’s watched as Liz was thrown into a wall. He quickly turned on Abraham. Nuala tried to lunge forward, but with each kill her body sunk deeper into a dark abyss like quicksand.

“YOU! You took her from me.” She watched as they fought; Nuada lost his weapon, but this did not stop him from strangling Abraham. As her dream-self struggled harder, she sank deeper, she clawed at the stones, desperate to save her friends. It was no use, she fell deep into the darkness, landing back in the throne room. She saw herself dressed in regal robes, much like her father’s, a crown of branches atop her head. Nuada stood facing her, dressed in she same way. In the hand the crown piece morphed into a knife. Tears streamed down her face as they mirrored each other, stabbing identical knives into each other’s sides.

There was an abrupt jolt, returning them to their conscious minds within the real world. Nuala’s head withdrew from Abraham’s, but she maintained a certain level of closeness. Tears stained her cheeks as they had in her dreams

“Even in my dreams I am a coward.” She whispered, breaking the silence. Her eyes opened, desperate to see no change in her love’s opinion of her.