Queens of Steel and Copper

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Elane Haven awoke with in a cold sweat, her breathing heavy as she closed her eyes, filtering out the light shining through her window with the flick of her wrist. She let herself collapse back onto her silken sheets, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes as she laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her bed's canapy.

The High House of Haven was renouned for their talent at weaving and manipulating sun and shadow, light and dark. The one shade she couldn't bend to her will, was gray.

And her dreams were haunted by gleaming flashes of silver.

In her dreams, she danced in an empty ballroom to gliding, sensual music. The light of the pale moon filtered through the glass dome above just so, bathing her in gentle moonlight that sparkled on her skin as she willed it.

And then out of nowhere, a cold hand pressed into her own, another resting strangely gently on her hip. Soft pale lips hovered behind her ear, breathing coolly onto her silver-toned skin. They pressed to the base of her neck, her throat, her shoulder, a few stray locks of silvery-white hair falling down over Elane's shoulder, and she shuddered at the sensation, her cheeks flushing silver.

Elane bit her lip as she sat up in bed, pushing back her auburn bangs and trying to calm her racing heart. A servant stood on the far side of the room, waiting with her robe folded neatly in her arms.

Elane swung her legs over the edge of the bed, slowly allowing the light to filter back into the room as she stood, basking her body in the glow of the morning sun. She walked over and took the robe, before dismissing the servant and going to the bathroom for her morning shower.

The water was hot and the room quickly filled with steam as she turned on the shower, dipping her head into the stream and pushing her damp hair back, clicking it down. Once she had lathered herself with artful and wonderfully smelling soaps and washed off, she found herself just leaning into the water, letting her mind wander once again to pale, smooth skin, ashen hair and onyx eyes. The feeling of Evangeline Samos pressed against her-

Elane shook her head, jolting herself out of the shower stream and shutting it off. Nope. Nope that was too far.

She pulled the robe around herself tightly, her face flushed silver. She had to stop thinking of Eve like that. Her best friend would never think the same, not to mention it was an imposibilty for them to be anything more than friends. The court, their families, the country of Norta would never allow such a thing. Not in the open, and even as a consort there would be backlash. It is cruel to cling to hope when there is none.

She found herself sitting on her bed, not having the heart to dress herself as she laid on top of her silken sheets, her robe flowing around her artfully.

She lost track of time, and how long she laid there, drifting off in restless dreams of silver and onyx. She was only awaken by a knock upon her door. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up.

"Come in.." she called lazily.

The door creaked open, and in sauntered a very familiar face. "Eve.." Elane swallowed, tearing her gaze from her friend, and the dress made of scales of iron that hung to every curve of her slender body. "..what do you need?" She asked, trying to put up her friendly front.

Evangeline just scowled. "Elane, it's almost noon. I've come to see if you're alright." She asked, her voice surprisingly tender.

Elane wasn't sure how to respond. Should she tell her? Of course not; Eve would never understand. She'd be repulsed, of course.

"I'm fine, just couldn't sleep much is all." Elane muttered in excuse.

Eve walked over, sitting on the edge of Elane's bed, a rare look of concern flashing across her face. "I see. Bad dreams, then?"

"No.. not bad ones, persay.." Elane murmered, forcing herself to avoid eye contact with her friend. She was surprised to feel a cool hand gently rest upon hers.

"Elane.."

Damn.. Elane thought, feeling her hands clench the fabric of her sheets. She turned to look at Evangeline, into those eyes like polished jet staring back at her.

Without a thought, she reached across the divide, cupping Evangeline's cheek in her own small hand, her thumb brushing across her smooth, pale skin. Her face burned as she pushed herself up, her lips locking with Eve's.

She felt the other girl go rigid for a moment, and Elane moved to pull away, before a hand pressed against the base of her spin, pushing her against Evangeline's body, her dress molding itself into something sleeker, with no sharp edges.

Evangeline kissed her with a gentleness she hadn't foreseen, and a hunger she could never have imagined.

Dreams can come true, it seems.