Want.

I dreamed that I was sitting under an awning, spinning thread on a wheel just sheltered from a light, misty rain. Staring out into the grey light of afternoon, I sang a song - one I know in life, called 'I Can See Now' by Dead Can Dance, ironically - and worked the motions, familiar to my hands, without thinking. Approaching my village from the edge of the forest hence were the figures of two armored men. One stopped at the edge of the tiny collection of buildings and tents, while the other - a taller, harder man in black chain, carrying a sword - moved down the path. His eyes were fixed ever forward save for one instant, when he turned his jewel-bright eyes my way in a sidelong, narrow glance. I stood, and followed, unspeaking. We rounded a corner, into the psuedo-privacy of another structure's shadow, and he caught me in the crook of one arm and kissed me. I leaned into him, strangely enough not feeling the adamant steel of his breastplate but pressing my body to his, as if -through- his armor somehow. It was a long, tender embrace; one that belied so stern an exterior. Then, he drew back, dropping the hand that had been on my back to the dip of my waist. We stood like that, looking hard into one another's faces for a long while. Then, he drew back a little further, crossing his left arm between us to draw the backs of his fingers down my right cheek, as delicate with me as if I were made of glass and might shatter at the smallest touch. He was wearing leather gauntlets, smooth and cool on my skin. After that, there is darkness.