Fanfic:Little Dreamer
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Saraid looked curiously through the open door of her sitting room from her bedroom. The room seemed to hold a red glow, a ruby cast to the light. Further investigation revealed it to be the afternoon light reflecting off a red wall hanging that she had purchased from the Atha'an Miere. She nodded now and relaxed in the chair she was sitting in. A book lay untouched in her lap and its title blazed "A Study of Battle Weaves". It did not interest her much though, and she idly stroked the soft fur of one of her cats as she mulled over the point that Shaya Sedai had brought up in a meeting of the Green Ajah, and Accepted and Dedicated aspirants today. That woman was single-minded and ruthless - yes she might be good at bringing insolent young men and women into line, but she was blind to the fact that all Ajahs would fight against the Shadow in their own way when Tarmon Gai'don came about.
The warmth from her fireplace lulled her to a doze, and she curled up in the comfortable armchair with her head on the armrest and her legs dangling over the other side. One of her cats purred and then leapt up onto her stomach, circled once and then curled up in the dip of her mistress' body.
She stood in her apartments and it was the same, sort of, except that the fire was not burning and her cats were not present. She knew this dream, sighing she prepared for the changing clothing and appearance. Then it began, her green satin dress altered, mutating from a beautiful Cairhienin dress to the brown skirts and white blouse and shawl of an Aiel woman. Then the dress transformed again, into a red Domani style which was high-necked and long-sleeved but made of a thick lace causing the dress to almost reveal more than it hid. A scowl crossed the Accepted's face and she concentrated on retrieving her original dress. Her anger flared and the Domani style flickered to the dress she had originally worn, then stubbornly the dress flickered back to the red Domani style again. Muttering about the fact that as this was a dream she should be able to control her clothing at least, the Accepted grumbled and left the room to find her way out of the dream. The Halls of the Accepted and Dedicated were no different to those of her waking hours except that they were empty, too still and quiet for this time of day. There was a shout behind her, and the Accepted spun to see a Dedicated running towards her with relief on his face. Behind him ran three Children of the Light. Saraid started and began walking quickly away from the foursome, looking over her shoulder on occasion, she was surprised to see the four men evaporate from her dream. "Odd," she whispered aloud to herself, now quite frightened. Her fear escalated as she saw a woman appear, scream and jump from a balcony only to vanish before hitting the ground. "Light... what place is this? That my dreams are invaded by others and their dreams?"
"It is no dream, child." Saraid spun, breathing heavily. A beautiful woman dressed in whiten smiled slowly at her. "It is the dream, the World of Dreams, the Unseen World, or Tel'aran'rhiod." The woman shook her long black hair over a shoulder and smiled again. "And I am its Queen."
"You are its . . . Queen?" Saraid repeated, stunned. "And this is Tel'aran'rhiod? The World of Dreams?" She paused, "then how do I manage to be here, with no dream of my own, with now ter'angreal?"
The woman smiled and Saraid now realised that for all her beauty the other woman was frozen and emotionless. "You have a Talent, child. The Talent of Dreamwalking which comes often among the Aiel." The woman's eyes were cold and calculating too. Something about this woman frightened Saraid. She seemed dangerous.
"D-Dreamwalking?" Saraid's voice was thin, shaky and unsure, it asked a question of the woman who smiled and answered it.
"Dreamwalking, the ability to enter Tel'aran'rhiod without the aid of a ter'angreal specifically made to allow the dreamer to enter. The ability to twist the Unseen World to one's whim, and the ability to visit others, Talented or not, in their dreams."
Saraid laughed unsteadily and a little giddily. "I could do all that?" she asked.
"You could . . ." the other woman said, trailing off. Then she hissed and faded out of the Tel'aran'rhiod equivalent of the Tower.
Saraid turned to see what the woman was so frightened off, to see if she herself could run, and saw a woman with a golden braid over one shoulder with a silver bow nocked and drawn. 'You should be careful, little dreamer," the woman cautioned. "The Daughter of the Night is jealous of other Dreamwalkers, she might kill you, and any injury sustained in this world is sustained in your waking reality also, and death is final." The woman bowed slightly from where she stood a hundred metres away from the Accepted and then disappeared.
The Daughter of the Night was the Forsaken, Lanfear, Saraid remembered. Then she realised the danger she had been in and fearfully and thankfully woke.
"Be wary little dreamer," she heard whispered, as she woke, hardly rested at all. The sun had dimmed somewhat and her room was in half light. The bell for the last meal of the day rang, and Saraid stood, shooing one of her cats from her lap. "I should speak to the Indigos, they'd know about Dreamwalking."
