(no subject)
May. 5th, 2005 03:05 amHe sleeps well and deep, in the realm of the Dream-lord, and when he wakens in his room, for a moment he is not sure where he is.
Then he remembers.
Roland turns onto his back and stretches, folding his arms behind his head, staring at the stone ceiling.
Except for the Library...this place could be Gilead. All that is missing is the gunslinger barracks, and the fields where Cort taught them their trade -- and for all he knows, they, too, are contained in the Dreaming.
It's eerie to know that he is in the land of the Third of the Seven. It is eerier to know that the Dreaming resembles his home in many ways.
And it is strangest of all that while Moiraine is here, somewhere, and presumably the Dream-lord is enfleshed somewhere here...he will not see the faces he knows when he walks the halls.
No harm, mayhap, in exploring a bit. He's hungry, and what Moiraine told him -- Concentrate on that, focusing your will, and you will find your way.
He dresses, leaves the bedroom, and leaves his apartment behind -- but his mind is more on Gilead, though, than on food.
The corridors, too, resemble the ones closest to the apartments he and his mother and father lived in, at home, with panes of colored glass illuminating the walls during the day, and torches at night. There's familiarity here -- deep familiarity -- and Roland is content to walk, for a time, and remember.
Then he remembers.
Roland turns onto his back and stretches, folding his arms behind his head, staring at the stone ceiling.
Except for the Library...this place could be Gilead. All that is missing is the gunslinger barracks, and the fields where Cort taught them their trade -- and for all he knows, they, too, are contained in the Dreaming.
It's eerie to know that he is in the land of the Third of the Seven. It is eerier to know that the Dreaming resembles his home in many ways.
And it is strangest of all that while Moiraine is here, somewhere, and presumably the Dream-lord is enfleshed somewhere here...he will not see the faces he knows when he walks the halls.
No harm, mayhap, in exploring a bit. He's hungry, and what Moiraine told him -- Concentrate on that, focusing your will, and you will find your way.
He dresses, leaves the bedroom, and leaves his apartment behind -- but his mind is more on Gilead, though, than on food.
The corridors, too, resemble the ones closest to the apartments he and his mother and father lived in, at home, with panes of colored glass illuminating the walls during the day, and torches at night. There's familiarity here -- deep familiarity -- and Roland is content to walk, for a time, and remember.