Dreams

Dreams Part 3

He sat on the hard, wooden floor of the flet, his hands working expertly, but automatically, on restringing his bow, his mind far away from his task. She was all he could think ofÉthoughts of her consumed his every waking moment now, as much as the dream ruled his sleep every night. He shifted, relieving some of the pressure at his groin, a constant reminder of his fixation. Truly, such an obsession with the figure of a dream could not be a welcome omenÉhe had oft times debated with himself in seeking the advice of the healers. He worried that his preoccupation might dull his reflexes or decision-making skills, affecting his command, a reaction that could not be tolerated. Still, he procrastinated, in truth not wishing to hear from the healer's mouth that the female of which he was so enamored did not truly exist except in the overworked recesses of his mind.

Fingers flying over the keyboard, she entered the endless stream of data as was expected of her in her job, but her mind was nowhere near the computer terminal. Instead, her thoughts wrapped around a silvery haired Elf, seeing clearly in her mind's eye the strong, sharp line of his jaw and the steely, glittering depths of his gray eyes. Picturing him clearly in her mind, she could nearly feel his heat. She became moist at just the thought of the things he would do to her in her dreamsÉand saw with crystal clear recall the sight of him pleasuring himself in the woods near her jogging track. Shaking her head to try to bring herself back to reality, she once again wondered whether she should seek professional help with her problem. Being so completely obsessed with a hallucinatory creature might very well indicate a serious psychological problem, but still, she didn't want to have a doctor confirm it.

Shouldering his re-strung bow and quiver, he thought a bath in the nearby pond might help clear his head - allow him to relax and think rationally again. Descending the enormous mallorn with an ease that only centuries of practice could bring, he trotted the short distance to the pond. Quickly shedding his clothing, he waded out into the warm water, then pushed off with strong, sure strokes to the center of the pond. He sighed, turning to float in the warm water, grateful that no one else had chosen that particular time to bathe. He was not in the mood for idle chatter.

Sighing, she shut down her terminal, thinking that perhaps an invigorating swim might help clear her mind. Grabbing her purse, she headed for the spa she frequented, located close-by to her job. Signing in, she found her locker, and, swiftly changing into her swimsuit, grabbed a towel, and headed for the pool. Grateful that the pool was deserted - for she really was not in the frame of mind to make small talk with anyone - she walked to the deep end, and dived gracefully into the water.

He felt, rather than saw, a disturbance in the water nearly directly beneath him. Instantly alert, he tread water, backpedaling away from the disturbance, not daring to turn his back on this unknown and unsuspected intrusion on his solitude. He cast a quick glance at the shore where his quiver, bow, and knives lay near his discarded clothing. He was unarmed, but whatever disturbed the water was coming up fast, and he could not hope to reach the shore before whatever it was surfaced. His body tensed, fully prepared to attack and defend himself from whatever it was that threatened with just his bare hands.

She shot to the surface of the water, flinging her hair back away from her face. Treading water, she noticed that someone was in the pool with her. Frowning slightly, her first thought was of annoyance that her solitude had been disturbed. Wiping the water from her eyes with one hand, they finally focussed, shock registering in them as she realized that she was no longer in the spa's swimming pool. She was in a small pond in a forest of silver barked, enormous trees. Turning in the water toward the figure she had seen when she first surfaced, her eyes widened as she recognized him.

He had lived long centuries, tens of them, yet had never been as shocked as he was at that moment. It was sheÉhere, in his pond, in the flesh. Hesitantly, afraid that if he moved too quickly she would vanish before his eyes, he swam closer. "Ton irin," he whispered, coming to rest less than a foot away from her.

She shook her head unable to understand. "How did I get here?" she asked, receiving a confused look in return. Evidently, while they could understand each other in their dreams, language was a barrier in real life. "Real life?" she thought to herself, staring at his handsome countenance, "this has to be another dreamÉmaybe I hit my head on the bottom of the pool." Still, she couldn't deny that everything felt very real to herÉthe water, the sun kissing her shoulders, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

He saw the confused look on her face as he spoke, and did not understand the jumble of syllables that flowed from her mouth in response. Not that it mattered in the least to him. All that mattered was that she was here, and all that he needed to do was reach out to touch her. Slowly he lifted a hand from the water, reaching toward her face, afraid that his fingers would find a barrier as they had in the forest. His fingers felt not a cold, hard invisible wall, but soft skin, still wet from the waters of the pond. A smile unlike any that had ever graced his face before turning up both ends of his mouth in a wide delighted grin.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment as his fingers grazed gently down her cheek, she realized that reality or not, what she had been desperately wishing for all along had finally happened. Those were his fingers touching the skin of her face, that was his breath she could feel, his broad smile that warmed her. Tears began to well in her eyes, though a smile touched her lips. as she lifted her own hand to gently stroke his smooth cheek, to gingerly feel the wet, heavy strands of his silver hair.

Taking both her hands in his, he led her back toward the shore, stopping when he felt his feet hit the sandy bottom. Standing, the water reached his waist. He feared trying to bring her ashore, worried that if they left the pond she might disappear like a water nymph. Taking a deep breath, his arms encircled her, pulling her tightly to his chest, feeling her arms wrap around his back. Clinging to her, he was nearly afraid to breathe, afraid this wonderful apparition would fade from his arms like smoke. He buried his face in her wet hair, breathing deeply of her fragrance.

She allowed him to pull her toward shore, but was relieved when he stopped short of leaving the water. She was afraid that this wonderful illusion would blow away like dandelion fuzz if they left the pond. When he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his strong chest, she clung to him, gripping his back with all of her strength, as though the strength of her arms alone would be enough to keep him with her. Her head lay on his broad shoulder, her face tucked into the hollow of his neck as she inhaled deeply, filling her senses with his scent.

Gently tipping her face up to his, he lowered his head, his lips softly grazing hers. Feeling her arms wrap themselves around his neck, pulling him closer, he pressed against her lips harder, relishing their softness, their fullness, and their taste. His tongue tickled them, and they parted. Darting inside, he tasted her for the first time, finding her sweeter than honey, as her tongue swirled over his own.

His first soft kiss sent a bolt of fire through her belly, and she could not help but pull his head closer to deepen it. She felt his tongue against her lips, and eagerly opened them, wanting and needing to taste him. His mouth was warm and moist, and tasted of sweetness as his tongue danced over hers.

His skin rippled with pleasure as he felt her hands glide from around his neck down to his shoulders, her fingers gently exploring. His own hands slid down her back, feeling the heat from her body through the thin fabric of the garment she wore. Slipping them up between their bodies, they cupped her full breasts, still encased in the silky garment. Frustrated at not being able to feel her skin next to his, he began to pull down the straps that held the garment to her shoulders.

Feeling his hands tug on the straps of her swimsuit, she tried to help him peel the wet suit off. She had grabbed the straps of the suit and had just begun to help him pull them down, when she felt a pull on the very center of her being. Suddenly, an unseen force was forcing her back into deep water, leaving him behind, looking bewildered in the shallows. A cry of defiance burst from her lips, but did nothing to slow whatever it was that pulled her.

Shocked into stillness for a heartbeat by her swift departure from his arms, he plowed into the water after her. Bellowing his anger at whatever was taking her from him, he cut though the water trying to reach her. An instant before his hand could close on her outstretched one, she disappeared under the water. Diving again and again, he searched the dark bottom of the pool, but to no avail. She was gone.

His primal scream echoed in her ears as she fought to reach his outstretched hand. Their fingers brushed before she felt herself swiftly pulled under the water. Surfacing just as she thought her lungs would burst, she spun in the water looking for him. All she saw were the cold, white tiles of the swimming pool, and the few scattered lounge chairs of the spa.

His fists beat the water helplessly, his anger boiling over into incoherent screams aimed at the sky. Elves came running from all sides, but none approached him, fearing the rage that contorted his face.

A sob bubbled up from her chest, as she gripped the side of the pool. Torrents of tears rolled down her face unchecked. A few other patrons entered the pool area, only to retreat from it, made uncomfortable by the grief-stricken young woman clinging to the side of the pool.

Translation: Ton irin - it is you