17- Theon

I'm dreaming and it's easy to tell that I am. The world is darker than usual, and cold. So cold. I can hear animal sounds in the background. They're loud and a smell permeates the air. It's disgusting and yet, familiar. Everything feels familiar.

I can tell it rained now. Feel it somehow. The air is moist, and feels clammy to my skin but that's not what has my attention. It's the voice I hear in the background that catches my attention. The scene in front of me grows clearer as I focus, my environment now turning into a place that also feels familiar but stirs a feeling that I had buried so deep down in me, I almost pass out from the pain.

Fear.

It's encompassing, keeping me blocked and unable to let out a breath. I try to use my nose correctly, try to force myself to breathe but it doesn't work. As I keep staring into the darkness, my eyes seem to adjust to it along with my other senses. There's the smell of feaces hanging in the air so heavily that I can almost taste it. And blood.

There's so much blood.

I pick up the sound of someone sucking on something hungrily with another of whimpers and grunts mixing with it. My body is shaking. Trembling. Each of my senses feel heightened and I can tell all the hair on me is standing erect as my vision grows clearer and I see what's happening only a few inches away from me.

I can't see his face because his back is turned to me but I know it's him. He's crouched to the floor, his face buried into a mare's body. I can tell what's happening even though I can't fully comprehend it. The mare… It's barely breathing the same way I am and it's eyes…

Dark and full stare at me with pain. It wants me to put an end to it. Wants to rest but I can't talk. It's like a knot is tied around my throat, making it impossible for me to. I'm hyperventilating, I know I am. And I'm terrified of so many things that I can't seem to fathom.

And when he turns, everything makes sense.

His eyes aren't red but a grey that reminds me of the clouds on a stormy night. His hair is longer than it usually is and his lips… Blood is all over it. Red. And he's looking at me with an emotion similar to horror in his eyes.

I watch him slowly rise to the floor, his hands out as he begins to walk to me, trying to reach me but I move backwards, my hands clutching my dress tightly to my body and that's when I notice it. His eyes aren't fixated on me, but on my belly.

So I look down, my body still shaking as fear of what I might see wraps me in an embrace so no tight I almost pass out from it and freeze. My world is silent and it suddenly feels like I'm the only one in it as I spot the growing blood on my swollen belly, one thought ringing again and again in my head.

My baby. My baby is dying.

And that's when the pain hits. It's blinding, my vision flashing a bright white like I'm being electrified then all of a sudden, cold hands grab my wrist and I'm suddenly pulled back into the real world.

Pants leave my lips as I stare around fearfully, my heart rising and falling heavily. I notice almost immediately that I'm not on my bed but a chair. A soft seat anyway. My eyes scan the ceiling, a whooshing sound blowing loudly in my ear as I try to adjust to my surroundings before I turn to my left, spotting the window looking outside as I realize where I am.

An airplane. Not my room.

"You had a nightmare." His voice snaps my head back to him. He's sitting in front of me, his hair over his face today with black sunglasses on his eyes. His legs are crossed, his body poised and though I can't see the look on his face, I can tell that he's studying me. "Your heart is racing like you desire to be anywhere else but here."

The more I stare at him, the more the ringing in my head increases. Something tells me to run and there's a cramping in my stomach. It hurts, like my insides are being wrapped apart. It's like I'm being overwhelmed more than my body can handle and I'm dizzy. Out of breath.

"Are you hungry?" A man suddenly materializes in front of me with a cloche over a plate as the other one in front of me keeps talking. "I specifically supervised them and got all the ingredients myself—"

"No." My voice is hoarse, like I haven't used it in a long time. I try to sit properly and calm myself but I can't. I don't like how I'm feeling. I don't like feeling.

"No?" His accent is a soft lilt, speaking of a time before I was ever conceived or thought of. That I could only imagine and make up in my dreams. He hasn't looked away from me even once, his lips turned up. "Do not be silly, Miss Mont. You're always hungry."

"I'm not." Talking feels like every word might be my last. I try to remember my dream, or why I'm like this but nothing flashes in my head. Not even a simple glimpse to calm me. "Today."

He waits for me to continue but I don't. I can't. When he realizes I won't say anything, he waves a hand and the man is gone, leaving us both staring at each other. I can't read his expressions or guess what he's thinking as he looks at me but I don't have to because he gives me a small smile that I know is not a genuine one and says, "That's alright. We can always skip breakfast. The sudden change of environment might be getting to you and apparently, that's quite discomforting for humans. Sudden changes. I'll make a note not to repeat these mistakes again."

He isn't speaking to me like he always does but an object. A thing that he's reminding of its place. A predator to its prey. A master to its slave. I say nothing because I know that it's true. Because I can feel that he is more of a force than I can ever put together.

The cramping in my stomach intensifies, and I press my hands against it, trying to ease the pain. It feels like my insides are in turmoil, and I can't shake off the feeling of dread. The man in front of me watches with a detached curiosity, as if my discomfort is nothing more than an interesting observation.

"It's almost fascinating that your kind is capable of dreaming even though many of you have thoughts that are small centered," He says, like he's trying to fill in the silence between us while also studying me like an experiment that he enjoys watching. "We do not sleep. Of course, we can create an illusion similar to sleep but we do not conjure up dreams or images. I'd like to hear what it is you saw."

"I don't remember."

His jaw ticks and his voice comes out like the sound of something rubbing hard onto gravel as he speaks, "We had a deal, little fox. You do what I desire and right now, I desire to hear what is that you dreamt of. Or is this another effort of yours to upset me?"

Run, a voice calls harshly in my ear. Hide anywhere. "I really can't—"

"Then why the fuck is your heart sounding like a cacophony of elephants running erratically off a bloody cliff?" His voice is sharp like a knife and on instinct, my hand goes to my belly like it's trying to protect some unknown thing in it while my cramping intensifies, almost having me retching over at the side.

Still, I only clamp my nails to the hands of the seat and stare at him, trying to force down the bile rising up my throat as I do so. After a while of heavy silence that looms over our head like a thundercloud the man's expression tightens, and for a moment, I see a flash of something in his eyes—frustration, perhaps. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by an emotionless façade.

He leans back into his seat and brushes his finger over his chin before he says in a voice so low I almost don't hear it, "This is the first time that you truly fear me and my brain… It is wracking itself as it tries to understand what I could possibly have done to cause it so I do not do it again but the fact you cannot tell me what it is aggravates me because I want to make things better. I want to make you feel better and you're denying me my right. It makes me want to hurt you, terribly, till you realize you are mine to do as I please."

I say nothing though I swallow, trying not to look at him but outside the window to the clouds. He doesn't stop staring, like he's trying to pierce a hole into my skin before he rises from his seat and walks to me. His hand is in my hair, brushing it with his fingers slightly as he tells me to rest then he leaves.

As soon as he's gone, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and felt the cramping slowly subside. My body feels spent, like I'd pushed it to its limit and I feel hollow, empty, like I'm no longer in control of my body and I recline into the seat, the sound of the engine humming around me lulling me into a dreamless sleep.