Finally! I remember last night's dream. For a while there I was afraid that since I started this blog I wouldn't have any more dreams. But all is well in my world now ;)
Well, how shall I begin to describe last night's dream...? It began with me, walking down a dirt road between rolling hills. The sky was dark with storm clouds vying for positions in the heavens. I held in my hands a romance novel, which my friend Star (she is a real friend of mine, not a construct of my subconscious) had given to me. On the cover was a powerful warrior on the back of an equally powerful steed. They were both ghostly pale, as if they were not from this mortal coil. I remember staring at the cover as I walked down the dirt road, pondering to myself what I should do with it. I couldn't read the novel. It was the second in a series and without reading the first I wouldn't be able to follow the plot line. Images of being in an old secondhand bookstore flashed before my eyes - static images of looking through shelves bursting with every kind of book imaginable, trying to find the first book in the series.
The images stopped. I looked up from the book in my hands and was startled at the scene that lay before me. Along the opposite banks of a fast flowing river were encamped two opposing armies. The scene was far away at first, but suddenly rushed towards me, though I never moved - the sounds of weapons and soldiers growing louder. By the time I was surrounded by one of the armies I knew that I was a princess. I held the one ring that the armies of Mordor were looking for, but few knew of my identity or the secret I carried. In the back of my mind I recognized that I had entered the book I held in my hand and darn it all if I had missed the whole first book!
On the side of riverbank, on which we (the good guys) were camped, were two and three story brightly coloured buildings that looked as if they belonged along the high street of a small village that never quite left the nineteenth century. From the windows women and children waved to their husbands, sons, brothers and fathers on the front lines. I made my way through the throng of warriors; some crowded around fire pits eating and drinking in the pre-fight revelry of those who though victory assured; some silently sharpening weapons; and others hurrying from one place to another on their own missions. I was afraid that someone would recognize me and I would be forced to return to the house where I was supposed to be under lock and key for my "own protection". I had no intention of sitting out this fight.
In a moment of distraction I ran headfirst into the man who not only knew exactly who I was, but apparently who I was madly in love with. He did not care for my sneaking escapade into the foray. We fought about my responsibility has a princess and guardian of the ring. I was acutely aware that if he wanted to throw me over his shoulder and march me back to my abode, he was perfectly capable of it and I would have very little choice in the matter. I was spared from such an indignity by an attack from Mordor's army.
The sky suddenly burst into flame and white hot balls of smouldering ash rained down upon us from the other side of the river. Wherever the ash touched human flesh, painful blisters blossomed and slowly the victim began to turn to stone - radiating from the point of contact. My companion flung his cloak over me, protecting me from the onslaught. When the air cleared, he pulled away. Expecting to be hurried away immediately to a safer place, I was surprised to hear nothing from him. Looking from the sky to him I was filled with terror. He stood, starring at his hand - small white blisters bubbled up on the fingers of his right hand. I knew I had to keep the circulation flowing, so grabbing his hand I tried to massage the fingers, keeping the blood pumping. He was nearly crippled with pain, incapable of fighting or making any decisions.
Within seconds I knew what I had to do. Earlier in the war effort a Mordor spy had been captured by our army. After several secret conversations with him, I had decided to help him escape. He was actually a good person and didn't deserve whatever was going to happen to him in our hands as a spy. He had returned to the army of Mordor. Standing there with the love of my life about to die, I knew that if I could get over the river and find this man, he would help us. Horses ran by us, fleeing in terror from the falling ash. One stallion stood his ground, powerful muscles tensed and head flung high in defiance. Stumbling over, half dragging my companion, I grabbed the reigns and hoisted (with no small effort) both of us onto the stallion's back. Hunched over as far as we could lean, I urged the stallion into a fierce gallop. Everything around us blurred, the bridge ahead of us the only clear spot in my vision. Vaguely I could hear shouts from the soldiers around us and once one of them tried to grab the reigns of the stallion to stop us, but he met with no success and was knocked into the mud.
On the other side of the bridge, we dismounted and waited to be surrounded by Mordor soldiers. Instead, the man who I had saved stood there with another soldier. They asked our names as they led us to a dark building covered in scaffolding. I told them my companion's name was Strider and I was called Faramir. The man I knew played along, keeping our secret. We entered the scaffolding covered building and I found myself in a familiar place - we were in the entrance area of Hart House at the University of Toronto. I begged the two men for a cure and it seemed as if they were about to give it to us. Even though I was scared for my companion, I was conscious of the fact that I was wearing the ring in Mordor (Two things should be explained here. 1 - I was wearing the ring on my finger. In this dream, the way to "activate" the ring was to twist it clockwise. 2 - the other side of the riverbank was not just where the army of Mordor was camped, it was also Mordor itself).
We were left alone momentarily and my companion joked about losing one of his fingers. The antidote (which he had gotten somehow - I seemed to have missed that part in the dream) had worked, except that his middle finger was still hard as stone. I told him not to be ridiculous, it would all work out. I was the one who was meant to lose a finger since I was the one who wore the ring. Remembering once again that I was in Mordor with the ring, I tried to hide my hand in the sleeve of my jacket. Just in time. I looked up and there before us stood Sauron. Well, actually, Allan Rickman as Snape from Harry Potter stood before us. But he was Sauron....and very prancy. He danced around us and sang about how excited he was we had come to visit his humble abode.
I wonder what would have happened next. Unfortunately the neighbours started in on some construction and I awoke to the sound of an electric sander. Curses!
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