I had a dream last night.
Jefrey and I met again, but we were on a soon-to-be battlefield. I went to him and begged him to run away with me, to not fight for risk of losing him. He said he’d had practice sword-fighting at Darkon, and I should wait for him with faith in my heart. I told him that I wouldn’t stand a chance in the middle of the fight, even though the captains were eager to give me a sword and push me into the fury. He said he’d protect me, but I sobbed and threw my arms around him, my studded leather clinking against his armor, and told him that I didn’t want to be another distraction to disarm him during the heat of the battle. He smiled and put his face in front of me, offering his face for a kiss or a smack, or both. I dug my nails into the back of his head and kissed him hard… whispered into his lips that I’d be a top that hill over there, hiding out in the barn housing families and brothel members. Kissing him hard, again, lapping at his lips, both bodies shaking with adrenaline. I tell him that this kiss is not allowed to be our last, and that even if I have to tread through every maimed and rotted body on this field after the fight, I will find him and kiss him again. I warned him that he better be alive to kiss back. I turn and run, and he excitedly screams that he loves me. I turn back, and run towards him again, clashing into him as he picks me up and I solidly wrap my thighs around him, a hungry kiss with a running start. As we strain to pull our lips away, we laugh and tell I him with my grin that this kiss didn’t count for my previous threat. Reaching under my leathers, I pull out my necklace, the one with my slave’s collar key, and an angel ring on it. Slipping the key off to keep in my breast pocket, I twist to clasp the chain around Jefrey’s neck. It shines brighter than his plate mail.
Finally a top the hill, facing the breeze, I have the ideal scouting spot to watch the fight. I cry and curse myself for not being a better fighter.
Then I wake up.