The Toils (Book Two)

XVI. El Sueño

With an exhale, Thatcher opened her eyes.
A beach sprawled out in front of her... well, it wasn't quite a beach as much as it was endless white sand.
In all directions, it spread, white sand, against a white horizon, beneath a white sky.
If she didn't know better, she would've called it heaven, but, it wasn't to be.
Tentatively, she stepped forward, a light crunch under her feet soothed her - and while there was a faint sound surrounding her (reminding her of what was happening outside her head like an incessant fly while trying to sleep) she tuned it out, taking in the scene around her.
"Hi", a voice behind her spoke.
Thatcher turned, seeing Asper behind her.
"Hi", Thatcher smiled weakly.
"Wanna take a walk?", Asper cocked her head and smiled back.
"Yeah", Thatcher nodded.
Thatcher waited for Asper to catch up before she turned and continued to walk alongside her.
They walked in silence for a moment, before Asper asked - "why am I here, Thatcher?".
Thatcher shrugged, "I dunno.. to say sorry, maybe".
Asper said nothing but physically gestured to Thatcher to elaborate.
Thatcher wriggled uncomfortably as she walked - "I shouldn't have said anything to you before... I hate the idea that you mightn't talk to me because you think I'm gonna misunderstand something you say".
"I get that", Asper nodded kindly, "you know it's not gonna happen, right?".
"I know... You're with Ngeru and-".
" - no, you dork. Me not talking to you. You know I'm bigger than that", Asper laughed happily, taking Thatcher by the hand.
Thatcher gripped her hand, smiling.
They walked slowly, drinking in the atmosphere.
Thatcher was acutely aware of the fact that she was in control of everything unfurling around her - "you want a drink?", she asked Thatcher.
"Wine, please", Asper grinned.
Using her mind, Thatcher conjured a table from thin air, with two neat wooden seats, and a clear glass bottle of red wine with two neat crystal glasses atop it.
The two ladies sat opposite each other, pulling their chairs closer so that they were next to each other.
Thatcher popped the cork from the bottle, pouring the two of them a tall glass of wine.
The white sky became a rich blue, the sun finally showing for the first time in a long time.
On the table materialized a plate of steaming pork chops.
"Eat", Thatcher smiled, helping herself to a chop.
She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed, watching Asper do the same.
"This isn't the end of it, you know?", Asper suggested, taking a mouthful of pork, chewing as she spoke.
"No?", Thatcher put her chop down and questioned.
"No... I mean, so we beat the Settled, we get our lot north, we set up... But your ranks aren't on board, right? Not all of 'em", Asper noted, but Thatcher wasn't exactly on board with what was being said.
"Do tell", Thatcher gestured, wiping her greasy fingers on her black burlap shirt.
"Well - those Royalists attacked you when you went North, remember? Sure, you placated them with the letter, but do you think they'll stay quiet after Wolesley? You've got a war to distract them now, but when the war is over - if we're still around - will they still be distracted?", Asper placed her chop on the plate, and leaned in.
"Jesus", Thatcher sighed, rubbing her forehead with both hands, "it's just relentless".
"What if they turn Randall into a martyr?", Asper suggested.
"They wouldn't. Those who supported Randall are, ironically, the same ones that support Wolesley", Thatcher pointed out.
"The Kingdom is fracturing, Thatcher, and with everything going on; you're fucked if you think you can keep it from breaking down", Asper warned, "you'll have a full-blown civil war on your hands if you can't get this under control".
"Jesus Christ, Asper", Thatcher sighed. 
She had no real follow up.
Sinking slightly into her chair, she could do naught but think.
Shaking her head, she replied - "what if, after everything, I'm the one to destroy this place?".
"That would be the kicker, huh?".
"I've done things, Asper, things that'll haunt me forever... I sold out my friends at the end of the Battle For Gossfordshire two years ago, I set fire to the food stocks in Rebury, I made you give up your bombs and now they're here...", Thatcher grimaced before vocalizing, "what if it was all for nothing? Worse, what if those choices are the ones that lead us here?".
The sky broke open - the sounds she tuned out came flooding back, and with a snap of her eyes - she was no longer in a vision of paradise, but snap back on the sixth floor of the Second House, staring out over a swarm of (at least a thousand) people.
She took a deep breath and waited for whatever was coming next.