Ingress of the House of Arch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
smallestopener) wrote2010-05-09 12:38 am
smallestopener) wrote2010-05-09 12:38 am
Trust dreams. Trust your heart, and trust your story.
Ingress had a brilliant birthday. She’s eleven. Eleven is nearly grown up! It’s also the year when children in the stories she’s read come into their own. Adventures begin, schooling starts, worlds are saved… she can hardly wait to see what will happen next.
Her party earlier was such fun. Door was almost nice to Puck; Ingress had worried a little about that after she invited him. But he was very nice and charming, and Tom was nice, too, and Puck helped Ingress steal lots of roses off the cake while Havelock talked to Tom and Door, and it was brilliant.
She ate far too much icing sugar, but Tom had the peppermint potion waiting for her when the party was over. She feels much better now. And she’s eleven!
It sounds so good in her head. Eleven, eleven, eleven.
She should have asked Mary to stay the night with her, she thinks, as she tosses and turns. She’s never going to fall asleep, even with staying up past her bedtime. Tom and Door insisted she go to bed after she started yawning. They can be so silly sometimes.
She tosses one more time, and she thinks, again, how impossible it will be to go to sleep tonight. Her eyelids flutter and close. It is not long before she’s deep in dreams.
Her party earlier was such fun. Door was almost nice to Puck; Ingress had worried a little about that after she invited him. But he was very nice and charming, and Tom was nice, too, and Puck helped Ingress steal lots of roses off the cake while Havelock talked to Tom and Door, and it was brilliant.
She ate far too much icing sugar, but Tom had the peppermint potion waiting for her when the party was over. She feels much better now. And she’s eleven!
It sounds so good in her head. Eleven, eleven, eleven.
She should have asked Mary to stay the night with her, she thinks, as she tosses and turns. She’s never going to fall asleep, even with staying up past her bedtime. Tom and Door insisted she go to bed after she started yawning. They can be so silly sometimes.
She tosses one more time, and she thinks, again, how impossible it will be to go to sleep tonight. Her eyelids flutter and close. It is not long before she’s deep in dreams.
Re: Fortify yourself with contentment, for this is an impregnable fortress.
"Ingress, the roses just bloomed - you must come and see!"
Re: Fortify yourself with contentment, for this is an impregnable fortress.
She takes Mary's hand, and let's her pull her where she wants her to go.
(In dreams as in life, this is how things often go)
Re: Fortify yourself with contentment, for this is an impregnable fortress.
"You must come quickly," Mary says, tugging. Her strides are longer than Ingress', though not by much. "They shan't last long, you know."
Re: Fortify yourself with contentment, for this is an impregnable fortress.
Roses last for days. Roses last for hours. Roses last for minutes.
She hurries along. She wouldn't want to miss this.
Re: Fortify yourself with contentment, for this is an impregnable fortress.
The greenhouse stands in front of them, looking quite small and ordinary.
It's bigger on the inside, of course.
"Look, here we are!"
Re: Fortify yourself with contentment, for this is an impregnable fortress.
Green tendrils snake along the tables and up the walls. They are smiling.
"You water the feet."
Her mother brought her to the conservatory every day, and the roses, oh, the roses grew tall and bloomed red.
Re: Fortify yourself with contentment, for this is an impregnable fortress.
Re: Fortify yourself with contentment, for this is an impregnable fortress.
Mary is blonde, where Ingress' mother and sister have dark hair. But that's a minor difference.
Re: Fortify yourself with contentment, for this is an impregnable fortress.
"Whatever I know, you are welcome to it."
Knowledge is important; knowledge is a gift.
Re: Fortify yourself with contentment, for this is an impregnable fortress.
"We shall bloom, sister, like flowers, and the sun will beam down upon us always."
She thinks she heard those words in a story, once. Maybe a fairy tale or a poem. Or maybe she heard them spoken on the wind as she stood in a garden.
It matters little where she heard them.