At first, he was confused. He’d asked who she was and how she’d brought him there.
She told him she was a fairy princess and that she had wanted a friend. “I suppose you could say, I gave a command and my dream obeyed.”
At this, James had bowed on one knee and said, “At your service, milady.”
Ever since then, every few nights, on nights she did not dream with her mother, she would think of James and he would appear. At first she thought he was simply a dream, a normal dream. But tonight, when he spoke, he spoke of a grand ball in his parent’s castle. He spoke in a language she had never before heard, one that didn’t sound made up, one that didn’t sound like anything she would ever imagine. She wondered, was he real? Was he like her mother, a person able to share dreams?
Today they were at the crystal pond, a place in the real world that Dwennon and Hilly took her often. She’d recreated it in her dream, and James was skipping rocks across its smooth surface. “Be serious, James,” Briar Rose said. She stood beside him, watching him flick the rocks across the water’s surface with ease. He had tried to teach her last time, but for some reason, she wasn’t able to get it right. Which was another reason it was odd. In her dreams, things always worked. But this didn’t.
She put a hand on James’ shoulder and he turned to her, his eyes as blue as the water before them. “Of course I’m real, Rose,” he said. “I don’t know why you think I’m not.”
“Because we’re in a dream, and I dreamed you up.”
He shook his head. “You called to me,” he said, adamantly, as if there were nothing else in the world he was more certain of. “I remember it clear as day. I’d been in my bed, in my own dream, about sugar candies my mother had agreed to let me eat, and then I felt a tugging, right here,” he said pointing to his middle. “And the next thing I knew, I was here with you. I am real. Just as real as you.”
He knelt down on the ground, his eyes searching as his hand skimmed the dirt surrounding his feet, until he found a smooth stone and picked it up. He handed it to her. “Only a real boy could teach you to skip stones.”
Rose regarded him, looking into those clear blue eyes. Could they be real, not imagined?
He smiled at her, revealing a slight gap in between his front teeth. It was an endearing imperfection. She liked it. She nodded. “Alright, then,” she said. “Real boy James, you may teach me.”
“You should probably call me Real Prince James,” he replied.
Rose rolled her eyes. “No, I should not. I should call you James, because that is who you are.”
James frowned and stepped away. “Then I shan’t believe you are a real princess, because a real princess would know the importance of being called by her title.”
“Fine,” Rose conceded. “Prince James, please try again to teach me.”
James brushed some stray hairs from his eyes, then picked up a stone of his own. He told Rose to follow his example, standing the way he did, turning at the same angle as him. “Now the key,” he said, “is the flicking motion of your wrists. For some reason, you just want to chuck it in the pond. But that doesn’t work. What you have to do is really flick it, quick and light, like air, to get it to work.”
Rose had heard this before, but it seemed to make no difference. Flicking. She’d flicked and flicked, and still her rocks sank. She felt dejected.
“Go ahead, try it again,” he said.
Rose did. Plunk. It sank.
“That’s alright,” he said with such good cheer Rose actually believed him. “Come on, let’s hunt for stones so you can have a pile to practice with.”
They spent a good half an hour scouring the pond for stones, and indeed came up with an entire stack for skipping. So that’s what Rose did. Or, that’s what Rose tried to do. Plunk after plunk after plunk. Finally, there was but one stone left. “You take it,” Rose said, shoving the cool, slender rock at James. “You might as well have fun with this last one.”
James shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “This is the one. It’s the one that’s gonna work. The one you’re going to skip.”
“And how can you be so sure?”
“Because, if you make it this time, I promise to find you, in the real world, not just in our dreams.”
Rose stared at him, the shock of what he said settling in. An hour ago, she didn’t believe he was real, and now he said he would prove it. She laughed, to give him a chance to say he was just joking. “You’re funny, James.”
“I’m not teasing. I want to find you. None of the other princesses will play in the mud with me, or go exploring in the woods with me like you, Rose. I want to meet you for real.” He touched her hand holding the rock. “Skip it and I promise to find you.”
Rose stared at the resolve in his steely young eyes and knew with everything in her that he meant it. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds around her, listening to the wind. Then she opened her eyes, turned her body, flicked her wrists, and plop, plop, plop, plunk. The rock made three beautiful plops before it sank. She turned and hugged him. “I did it, James,” she said, still astonished at herself. “I can’t believe I did it.”
He squeezed her tight. “I knew you had it in you Rose.”
She let go of him and smiled as she looked across the pond, still relishing in the glow of accomplishment. She gave him a tap on the arm. “Well, now you must come and find me. Thank goodness I did it.”
James shook his head. “Nah,” he said, flashing her a mischievous grin. “I would have come whether you skipped it or not.”
Chapter 6
(Two years later)
James had grown taller, but no less mischievous. Today he chased Rose through the forest, their game of tag going swimmingly. He was faster than her, but she’d gotten a head start, and she was quick, able to change direction with ease. He was closing in on her as she approached the end of the clearing, the cliff that overlooked the pond at the bottom of the waterfall.
Rose ran faster, and with a laugh, she jumped, diving over the edge and plummeting downward. But here in her dreams, gravity mattered not. She floated down to the bottom on a cloud of air. James tumbled behind her, but this was her dream, not his, and he didn’t seem to be able to float. His descent quickened, and he winked as he plummeted past her. She looked down and concentrated, stopping him before he hurtled into the pond below. He remained suspended in air, laughing, and then she dropped him into the pool with a splash.
She descended, landing next to the pond, and watched as he swam over.
“You’re wet,” she said.
He got to the edge of the pond and climbed out to sit in the grass next to her. He shook himself, spritzing her with water. “Because you let me get wet.”
She grinned, and along came a breeze that gently whirled around and dried him. “I thought you’d enjoy it,” she teased.
He grinned and then reached out and touched her shoulder. “Tag,” he said.
She frowned momentarily. “I’d forgotten,” she said.
“Of course you did. You were too busy using your dream magic to drop me in ponds.”
“You jumped off a cliff,” she said, pretending to chastise him. “What did you think would happen?”
“That you would catch me,” he said. “As you did.” He took in a breath and looked around. “Why do you think you can bring me here?”
Rose put a hand to her chin and looked at the landscape. “I don’t know,” she admitted. She looked up at the sky. The sun was directly overhead. Still plenty of time to play. “It doesn’t matter, does it? It’s beautiful here and you enjoy it.”
His eyes met hers, serious and focused. “More than you know.”
They stared at each other silently, a gentle breeze keeping them cool under the sun. Finally, James stood. “Shall we play another round of tag?”
Rose laughed. Yes. More tag would be fun. She stood, too, and looked around at the landscape. “Maybe …” she started.
“Hide a
nd seek then,” he suggested.
Rose shook her head. “I think you came the first time because I wanted a friend. And I think you’re able to come back so easily now because we’re friends.”
He smiled and took her hand into his. “Of course we’re friends, Rose,” he said. “I would never not be friends with a gal who could drop me off a cliff.”
She lightly tapped his hand and rolled her eyes. “I’d never let you fall. Not for real.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” he said, his gaze intense, his hand still cradling hers, applying soft pressure. “And when we meet in the real world, know that I’ll never let you fall, either.”
Chapter 7
(5 years later)
Rose lay on a blanket near the pond, and James was propped up on his elbow, lying beside her. He leaned forward and kissed her lips. He tasted of berries, the sweet red wild berries they’d picked and eaten. His mouth on hers sent a heat through her entire body and she found her lips couldn’t be parted from his. She wanted nothing more than to lie there, feeling him pressed to her.
James ran his fingers along her summer dress, starting at her hip, and slowly gliding up her side, until he veered to her bosom, sliding his hand over her top, cupping her soft mounds. Her flesh trembled beneath his touch, awakening such feelings in her as she’d never had before. His lips seemed to be pressing on her with urgency now, and his body pushed closer to hers, the warmth of his touch exciting her, but also scaring her.
Somehow, she pulled her lips from his. He stared, appearing slightly offended.
Rose could feel the heart hammering in her chest, and her brain lacked clarity. She still wanted to be kissing him. She wanted to be more than kissing him. But she came back to the question she’d asked him so many years ago. Was he real? He felt so real. Everything about him felt real, only she knew it was a dream, and in this moment, she wanted more than the dream. She wanted reality.
She took a deep breath, and sat up, sliding to the right a bit to avoid bumping James.
“Rose,” he said, sitting up himself. “What’s wrong?”
His tone was irritated, and she longed to soothe him, but she wasn’t sure she could explain. Not in a way that he understood. She rested a hand on his shoulder. “James, you know how much I love you,” she said, meaning it. For they had been in love for some time. It was something it had taken them too long to realize. They had always been friends. He had always been her best friend, and perhaps they had been in love for longer. Rose suspected perhaps they had even loved each other for years, but she had only become aware of their love a few months ago when he had kissed her, and she had kissed him back.
“You love me, but my touch makes you recoil after too long?” He stood, his bitterness evident.
She stood, too, and stroked his forearm, which was bare in his sleeveless shirt. “I don’t recoil at your touch,” she said, staring into his crystal blue eyes. They shimmered in the light of her dreamscape, shimmered in a way like no eyes she’d ever seen. It was unreal. Was he unreal? Did she want to do this with a figment of her imagination, one she’d convinced herself was real? She looked down at the ground, slightly embarrassed, and said, “If I tell you, you will hate me.”
He slipped the fingers of one hand into hers, and used his other hand to lift her chin so she had to look at him. “I could never hate you,” he said with such sincerity she knew it to be true.
“I’m scared,” she said.
“Don’t be,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle with you.”
“I know,” she said.
“I have thought of us together many times,” he said. “I dream, in dreams when you’re not real, in day dreams that you have not pulled me into, I dream of touching you, of you touching me, of the depth of our intimacy. I would take care to show you how much I loved you.”
She leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, and she felt warm and secure in them. “I don’t fear being with you, for I have daydreamed of it, too. I’m just scared that these dreams are like those while I wake. I’m scared that you’re not real, that you’re not real the way my mother is real. I’m scared that I’ve made you up, that I’ll be with you in a way that is very significant, and learn that you are not real, that you are just a dream.”
He breathed out and a misty cloud formed, just like he was a real person. She could feel his head bob, as if he were nodding. “Sometimes, I wonder the same about you, Rose, but the things you say, the things you do, I don’t see how they can be fake. I don’t see how they can’t be real. I know you’re out there. I’ve gone riding, exploring, looking for a glade that looks like this one. And though I’ve yet to find it, I know it’s there.”
Rose pulled away from him. “Where is your kingdom?” she asked. “Tell me, please.”
He bit his lip, frowned. He closed his eyes, thinking. After a minute, he shook his head. “You know it’s no use, Rose,” he said. “We’ve tried this before. I can remember things about friends, their features, my parents, but names of places are lost to me when I am here with you. You know it’s no better for you.”
Rose sighed. He was right. The kingdom she lived in had a name, only in this dream world of hers, she could never recall it. It was like trying to hold water in hands with fingers spread apart — the information was retained as well as the water.
“My uncle says humans don’t have dream sight unless they were gifted it. He says I can’t talk to humans in dreams. Only other fairies. And you keep saying you weren’t gifted it.”
James looked offended, but he didn’t speak harshly when he replied. “I am not a fairy, nor was I gifted with dream sight. My parents don’t even believe in fairies, so I don’t know how I would earn such a gift. But I know surely that I am here. Perhaps your uncle doesn’t understand all the ways of dream sight, as he calls it.”
James turned his head to the horizon, and this time his tone was bitter. “It’s time,” he said. “I will be ejected from your dream soon. The sun has almost set.”
Rose looked over at the orange winking away on the horizon
“Don’t let our last interaction be sad,” he said. He leaned in and kissed her again, pulling her tight to him.
And then she was awake. Her eyes opened to see the rising sun outside and bitterness swam in her insides. How could the most significant companion of the last six years of her life be, in fact, a dream? Or even if not a dream, why was she only able to access him in dreams? She had told Dwennon long ago that she dreamt of a boy. That she saw him often, and wondered if he was like her mother: real.
But Dwennon had said he couldn’t be. She’d been embarrassed by the fact that she believed James to be real when Dwennon knew so much about the fairy world and fairy magic. So she had told him shortly after that dreams of James had ceased. Though she wished she hadn’t told that one fib. She wanted to know if Dwennon could be wrong. She wanted assurance that James was real. He felt so real, as real as her mother.
There was a knock on the door, and soon Hilly’s head popped in, a grin on her face. “Happy birthday, Rose!”
Rose smiled. Seventeen. A momentous occasion. She could return home tomorrow. That was what she was told, that as soon as midnight passed on her birthday she could rejoin her parents. Then, maybe once she had left the solace of her hideout with Dwennon and Hilly, she could seek out James.
“Thank you,” Rose said. “I appreciate it.”
Hilly, who took it upon herself to enter, had a huge smile on her face and said, “So are you ready, my love?”
Hilly had set herself on the edge of Rose’s bed, looking cheerful as ever. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, Auntie,” she said, even though she knew Hilly wasn’t really her aunt. Still, they’d always told her to address them as such. “I have joy at finally seeing my mother in person, and actually meeting my father, but … I will miss our life here. Even though I know in my head that I’ve spent some time in my parent’s care before coming here, this is the only
life I remember. It just seems odd to be leaving it behind.”
Hilly nodded. “It will be scary, for sure,” Hilly said. “New things always are, but that does not mean they are bad. Just new. And your uncle and I will be there to help you get along.”
Rose nodded. It was a small comfort to hear Hilly’s words. Still, the anxiety of the change in her life overwhelmed her. And that’s when it occurred to her why she had really stopped with James. Why she had suddenly become worried again that he wasn’t real. Because things were changing for her. Everything about the life she knew wasn’t real. It had all been a fabrication by her parents to protect her. Hilly and Dwennon weren’t her aunt and uncle. This little home in the woods wasn’t really her home. Yet it all felt real, and tomorrow it was all being taken away. She feared the same would be true of James, that tomorrow he would be lost to her.
“Don’t look so desolate, dear,” Hilly said, rousing her from her thoughts. Rose nodded and forced a smile. “Your uncle and I have a great surprise for you today. It’s a birthday surprise, and Dwennon says he’s foreseen it’s a good idea, even though some might think it risky.”
Rose stared at Hilly, her curiosity piqued. “What is it?”
Hilly shook her head and smiled coyly. “The kind or surprise that is, in fact, a surprise, my dear girl. Get dressed and come to breakfast. Then we shall give you your gift. And it will be wrapped in spectacular fashion, as all good presents are.”
Chapter 8
With Hilly’s enticement of a spectacular present, Rose dressed quickly, not even bothering to remove the long braid that kept her blonde hair from tangling overnight. She ran barefoot from the small room, down the little hallway to the main room of the house, and there sat Dwennon and Hilly on the sofa.
Dream Trysts: A Sleeping Beauty Story (Passion-Filled FairyTales Book 4) Page 3
