[The library is quiet, except for the crackling of the fire and the hum of voices from the courtyard below. Alcuin is looking at his book when he realizes that the words aren't really words and that means he's dreaming.
He tenses immediately, waiting for the inevitable crash of soldiers through the door, the spilling of blood and the slow death- such common features of his dreams these days. It doesn't last long, though. He isn't proof against the strange calmness that filters in, and it seems to him that there is someone else there, just beyond sight.]
no subject
He tenses immediately, waiting for the inevitable crash of soldiers through the door, the spilling of blood and the slow death- such common features of his dreams these days. It doesn't last long, though. He isn't proof against the strange calmness that filters in, and it seems to him that there is someone else there, just beyond sight.]
Hello?