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Date Posted: 15:25:15 12/20/01 Thu
Author: Barry and Isobel
Subject: Perchance to dream, indeed
In reply to: Ravin and Tia 's message, "Looking forward to a quiet night" on 13:08:25 12/20/01 Thu

Barry pressed close to Laurel's side. "Yes... yes it was me who put the beasties in the monster's eye... despite my terrible hardship being trapped in that ocular goo. I had to think fast and well... out they came. It was awful in there... just awful... But I held up!" He said boldly, thoroughly enjoying the attention.

"Lucky for you I made it out alive. You know... I'm very talented with my teeth..." He'd just heard Isobel say that in jest earlier, but it sounded good to him so he went with it.

"It's getting late, baby. Can you hold me through the night? I promise I'll keep the monsters away from you...." He almost shivered in anticipation.

*~*~*~*~*

Isobel felt strong hands brushing hair away from her face. She felt the side of her cheek pressed against someone's belly and could feel them breathing. She tried to moan but couldn't. She was too tired to even be afraid and drifted into a troubled sleep.

After a while she thought she felt someone touching her and tried to swat at it, but she couldn't move. There was pain and then it went away. There was liquid in her mouth and she swallowed. She frowned as someone lifted her up and carried her to a cave, tried to protest, but by the time Erlic laid her on the bed of furs she was already dreaming.


"Papa!" she said, running to him. She was ten years old and her papa was the whole world to her. He had just returned from helping a village banish yet another tyrant and he looked tired, but he smiled and held his arms out to his daughter. She ran into them and he scooped her up, twirling her in the air. Isobel laughed, her hair flying out behind her.

"Papa did you slay many evil doers?" she asked him, her eyes bright.

"Si, Isobel. I killed terrible beasts and a terrible man. But remember, chiquita, I do not do these deeds alone. I have help." He held up his sword, the one he had always had. The one that she spent hours just looking at. It was beautiful. The blade shone in the light and the leather on the hilt was smooth and worn to fit her father's hand just so. She often ran her fingers over the leather, feeling the impression of the design that had been tooled into it but was now worn almost completely away. She sometimes curled her smaller hand around the hilt, letting her fingers slide into the indentations that were too big for her but fit her father's fingers perfectly. The pommel was rounded with just a tiny bit of a point at the very tip and she loved to press her fingertip against it, feeling it poke into her flesh oh so slightly. It always felt warm, even when the sword had been sitting for hours in the cold.

"Papa, can we practice our swords now?" She asked him eagerly, and he laughed.

"Isobel, I have just arrived home. Let me rest a moment, and then we can practice to your heart's content."

She smiled, her eyes on his handsome face. She loved her papa more than anyone in the world. He would always be there to protect her and make her feel safe. He would never leave her - not like her mother. He had promised her this.

Isobel stirred in her sleep, frowning. "Papa," she whispered.

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