Strange Dream
11-Feb-03
I had another strange dream last night. Don’t think I need to write this one down, but I want to.
I was a young woman living at home, but in a kind of medieval-ish kind of home. My mother was sick, my sister lived at home but was disabled, and I was AWOL from the king’s army. There were a lot of other people on the farm that we lived on, some of them were likely related as well (kind of like extended clan-family relations).
But I took my duties as a king’s man seriously, still wore my sword about the house, even though I was basically filling in for farm duty. My sister had become disabled from her studies in necromancy, which was one reason I was needed at home. Also, no wars going on– my leave was half-accepted, half-desertion.
Then these two men from the army arrived to return me for questioning and possible court martial. One of them, the leader, seemed inclined to treat me with compassion (plus he was cute!) The other was there in part to maintain objectivity– they had sent two men to accomplish the task just because I might use my “feminine wiles” to convince them to let me go.
When they confronted me, I explained that I was a loyal soldier and had done nothing wrong. Then they asked for my sword. These are special swords. They’re somewhat spring-loaded. When you draw one, it’s essentially a piercing weapon, like a stiletto. Squeeze the hilt and spring it open, and the stiletto-like blade separates and opens into a piercing handguard and a retracted (now extracted) sword blade. Mine had writing on the blade. Writing I had never noticed, or never paid much attention to, I suppose. But when they extracted the blade, fully opening my sword, there were words written there declaring an intent to “Kill the King.”
I was baffled, but agreed to go with them, if only to either clear this up or to take whatever blame needed to be taken (I was very loyal to my duties, as I said). I asked if I could first dress for travel and kiss my mother goodbye. This was granted, and I went inside the house.
With a family as large as all that, you can’t just change for travel and leave. I had to explain to the folks downstairs that I was being taken in for questioning, not to worry, that I would do my best not to dishonor the family, that I hadn’t done this thing I was accused of, but that the military would decide my fate, and I was okay with that. I then went into the next room and had to explain, all over again, to the women. Then upstairs, where I kind of whispered it to my sister. Then to my mother’s room.
By now, I had miraculously changed into a utilikilt (don’t be surprised– I was drooling over them yesterday), a white tunic, a brown vest, and my sword sheath. These special swords required a double-sheath. One was the regular belt sheath; the other was a removable sheath that went inside the belt-sheath, presumably so you could surrender your weapon if required (perhaps for formal audiences, or to surrender for ransoming?) Later, I discovered I had also brought my quiver and bow, but the MPs had taken my arrows (of course).
I went into my mother’s room, where she was so sick. It was very dark and quiet, and I tried not to cry as I explained what was happening. I knew this would be bad– we would lose the farm, but it was something I had to do. While I was talking with her, I was remotely aware that MP #1 (the cute, compassionate one) had come looking for me, found me in my mother’s bedroom, and waited outside, respecting that private moment with her.
I kissed mom goodbye and went downstairs to meet up with them. We rode on horseback for several days. At one point, my frustration at not having a weapon really got to me. I begged to be given just a few arrows so I could hunt some food for us and cook an edible dinner. I was very sad, having just left the comfort and safety of my homestead, and I ended up crying about my loneliness.
MP #1 was very sympathetic, even to the point of discussing permitting me an arrow or other weapon that could be used to snare some dinner. MP #2, whose job there was to maintain objectivity, remember, basically told him that I was being manipulative and using my emotional state to try to con them into giving me enough tools to escape. Even though I wasn’t planning an escape, I myself had to admit that, if I were given the chance, I do not know that I wouldn’t have taken it.
Point of View shifted frequently in this dream, by the way, so that I was at any given time myself (the girl), MP #1, or MP #2. No, the MPs did not have names, at least none that I caught. If I were writing this as a story, I would have to limit the POV, and would be torn between the girl and MP #1 as for whose POV would be most interesting to read. The girl is more familiar, but MP #1 is the one who changed most, just in the course of the dream.
I also had a sense that MP #2 would make an acceptable observer character, and that he and the girl could, in fact, become friends under any other circumstances. But since he’s there to do a task, and he sees his friend getting more and more emotionally involved, he has to be “the bad guy” in the dream.