The bed shifts slightly as Soldekai turns onto his stomach. He lets out a soft groan before opening his eyes to the darkness of the cave. His evening's reading lies open on the floor where it was left after dinner earlier. The sheets move around him, and Soldekai pushes up on his hands to see what's going on.
     His nap lasted longer than expected.
     "Ach," Soldekai laments, tossing his frame onto his side. He reaches out for a cup on the nightstand, only to find that it's empty. Defeated, he falls back against the bed, closing his eyes again. A smile pulls across his lips, despite the challenges of waking, and then he turns his head to find his companion.

     To sleep with an Angel of Dreams -- such is said to be the ultimate experience in Slumber. There are some who say that if you are allowed to sleep, what dreams may come -- it may be better than you have ever found the Waking to be. That your nap became a sleep is therefore not so surprising. For as you warm the bedding, so he may lead to somnolent paradise...
     There are heavens within Heavens, secret paradises that one must Know Someone to enter, cloud parties and nebular festivals. This Cave of Delights has become its own nirvana, boasting heated pools and comfortable bedding. Who knew that stone could be so soft! So comfortable. The sleep is deep, the embraces are passionate, the baths are long and hot. The shell collecting alone places it at least as high as seventh heaven...
     He rests so peacefully, the cherub within the mortal flesh of Kit Marlowe. The athletic form has lost its Venetian gold in favor of a paler, hardier earth of the British Isles. The curls are perfect in their imperfect this-and-that-way lie. Oh, he has needed this rest. He has needed this time with you. And between you, Love resides, expressed gloriously here... there...and everywhere the two of you loiter...
     Without opening his eyes, Kit slides toward you, rolling and piling against you. "Did you sleep well?" The mouth curls into a dreamy, closed-eye smile as his hands are next to slide against you.

     Soldekai blushes, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "All the time now," he admits, grinning in the darkness. Soldekai runs his hand over his head as he comes to a comfortable rest. "And you?" Soldekai wonders. "I guess...I should not presume about dreams, hmm? How do you sleep? In general. "Well," Soldekai's brows arch, "...what is it like...for you?"

     "When I sleep... when I truly rest, it is very still. Very quiet. I am sure there is someone who tends my dreams. There is someone on The Marches who knows far too much of these lava pools," he laughs softly, his eyes opening to brilliant (what else?) cracks and his smile curves into a slant. "But mostly when I rest there are no dreams to tend. It is like meditation. There is simply Stillness, to feel God everywhere. When I am with you, however," Kit whispers between you, "I dream of us and you. Brief pictures mostly, memories. Fantasies." He does have a number of those. And even Kit turns roseate.
     "Dreams and Sleep are the gifts I bring. I am glad that you sleep and dream well. That makes me happy, Brilliance." He tips his head, he kisses your chin, his arms slip and slide against and around you. "I have this one dream all the time," his voice is very soft. "You and I are here. We walk along the ocean beach. You are kind to wear all the necklaces of shells that I make for you. I walk naked through your caves, wings brushing light and color on the basalt. I come to you in the heated pools of water warmed by the volcano itself. We are happy. A pair."
     Kit lifts his head slightly, another kiss placed upon your chin and then along your jaw. "That is how I fall asleep each night. Those are the scenes with which I wake. When I am on The Marches, I think of you with every charge. Of the Heaven we are making when we Love." Kit smiles at you, mouth puckering against your skin. "And when we make love as we do. That pleases your Sentinel... very much."

     Soldekai's eyes widen a little. "You think...a lot," he confesses, shaking his head. Your dreams and fantasies are windows into the delight God allows. Such pleasure and joy that only now Soldekai is learning belongs to him. Not just to others. "And you say it well," he grins, your words far beyond things he would think of saying. "And here, I was going to say that I am happiest when around you -- oh, and doing my work -- my Sentinel," Soldekai winks.
     "Have you had enough of the island yet?" Sol wonders, his book coming to mind. "I am...interested in these things that mortals," alright, sometimes he's still a Malakim "...write and leave behind. They are..." he thinks a moment, "...it is interesting." Not so good to show your distance so much.

     "I could never tire of this ... is it an island? I suppose it is," he smiles and lowers back to the bed, stretching out, "I only see the caves and our little stretch of shore. Sometimes, I barely make it out of the heated pools," dimples form when he grins in that way, cherubic. And a little naughty. "I love books," he remarks. "Remember when we met on earth after all that time, in Clearwater. How I was in the university? That is the dream that Kit has, I make sure he can have his dreams too," Galadriel speaks then, separate from the skin he wears. "He loves books and learning, poetry. He's a poet and teacher and coach. The written word thrills him." He rolls his curly dark head on a pillow to look at you, smiling. "And me. I love books. Words. Language. Music. They are thoughts and dreams given ...fingerprints of a kind." His dark eyebrows knot suddenly. "Is there an angel for that? There must be. Angel of Literature. Demon of Pulp Fiction," he grins at that. "If not, there should be..."
     Lying on his back, Kit looks to you -- and Galadriel through Kit's eyes (it is right to say that you are loved twice). "What are you reading... you should read to me," Kit offers softly, smiling gently. "You can roll over and lie on me and read to me so I can feel and hear your voice. I love that."

     Soldekai stares for a moment, then exhales. "I am reading The Art of War," nothing so exciting. Soldekai laughs and arches his brows, "Did you think I was reading love stories?" His hand reaches out to touch brown curls. "Don't you know me by now?" Sol teases.

     "Sun Tzu," he breathes. "There is a kind of poetry to that." So he insists throughout the reddening of his face and the pinkening of his body. Suddenly, Kit is laughing softly. "Yes... I do know you. I was thinking, though, that it would be something of Western Europe. I was thinking of history. He must be reading history. I thought it might be something about Napoleon and Nelson or the philosophies of the 18th Century. Sun Tzu... I did not think of that..." There is a wink. "Or Winston Churchill..."
     "You should still roll over and read to me. Such knowledge may come in handy. I hear that is what generals do, they read the works of other generals. You might make Michael giddy with delight to know you are reading Sun Tzu..." His finger and his voice trail over you in teasing of his own. "Kit likes Shakespeare and...well...Marlowe." He grins at that. "He is named after him... after all..."

     "I have read much of all of them," Soldekai says, "...I am moving on. I do not read it for the strategy, just to understand...why such is written. What it means to others. That is...what interests me. How mortals think of these things. Michael," Soldekai looks up, "...he thinks differently. I don't think he'll care much my reading," Sol exhales deeply.
     He's quiet, thinking before speaking. The suggestion of reading to you isn't immediately taken. Instead, Soldekai opens a new topic. "I must go soon," he explains. "I have been away a little long this time."

     "I must as well," Galadriel softly speaks. He lifts his hand, fingers moving through the short hair of your vessel as he rolls over onto his side. "I love you, and I am glad to have had the time with you. It ...this is the recovery I most needed. For what I must do, for what I am doing, there is no better recovery than Love." Kit smiles, eyes sparkling, skin crinkling at the corners. "You are always with me, Soldekai. And I am always with you." The parting is not as hard these days. He has faith, yes faith, that he will see you again.
     His form is solid, muscular, athletic cherub-in-soccer-poet's skin. "I think of you, it gives me strength and joy. If I need to see you, I will simply look for the brightest star, and I will know that you see me, too. And it will give me something to dream about, Love to bolster My Work, to think of when we will next meet, when I will slip into the waters of these pools and wind my arms around your shoulders. Entire battles may be won by that thought alone..."

     The archangel sighs again, overwhelmed. But he eventually smiles. "I'd say ditto, if it didn't sound so....weak." Soldekai brings up a grin, starting a soft laugh. "I will be...in council. In the City. Then...well, that is where you may find me, if you need me."
     "And you? What are your plans," Soldekai asks, shifting the focus. "Where shall you be, if you can say?"

     Kit laughs, true and warm delight at your expressions. He shakes his head at you, his hand finding your shoulder and giving it a massaging nudge. "If you need me... if you need to talk about it, Archangel, you may. Do not worry about making this bed politik," that is serious, the soft assurance of a lover.
     "As for me..." He looks at your face a long while. He does not speak it. Galadriel does not utter it. His finger moves against your chest. In sigils angelic he writes it to rest invisibly on the surface of your mortal skin.
     There is a demon seeking Redemption...
     I am helping him...
     ...cross The Marches...
     That ...is why I had to rest...
     He is more powerful than I...
     Galadriel through Kit blinks to you, his features changing as he moves through that silent litany, ending with his hand folding flat against your chest, pressing lightly at your heart chakra. There is a soft look on his features. Sympathetic to his current charge's call. Galadriel looks to his hand upon your chest. "I will be in The Marches," he says, his eyes lifting to you, "... Singing. Moving dreams and spaces." To clear the way for him.
     Looking to your face again, his hand moves. His finger draws another sigil, this time the series that comprise a name.

     Soldekai's hand lifts to grasp yours. Suddenly. Immediately. The concern that shadows his brow these days stands clear. He frowns and exhales, shaking his head slightly. "Move dreams and spaces. Be as You Are. But do not force the issue," Soldekai recommends. Upon his chest, the writing flashes into disappearance. "Be careful. Plenty conspire. And yet there are assisting hands. Just...take care in the dreamscapes." He knows Beleth's anger and wrath. Or that of Belial's own.
     And what of his former Mistress, the Inspirer and the Punisher?
     "A beacon and a path," Soldekai whispers. "Not a prod...Galadriel. Yes?" Do you understand me?

     "That is all I can do," Galadriel confirms, assures. "I am the Sentinel of Aspirations, including the Aspiration for Redemption. I Am, and therefore must Do. I am the beacon and the song and the path, the rest is up to Him." And he is not speaking of Andrealphus here. This, he believes, is up to God Himself. "I have had to take this time to recover for a reason," he whispers. "It is ... taking all I Am... to be the beacon and the path. To allow him the opportunity to take his Aspiration and make it Reality...that is ...Who and What I Am."
     "I will be careful," he murmurs. "I know what She is capable of. Dreams ... are the battlefield I know. Treacherous as they are beautiful, dangerous beyond metaphor and allegory. Nightmares... beyond any reckoning. But it must be done. It is... the only way to end It."
     Kit swallows, his hand pressing to your heart again and then he lifts his hand to brush against your cheek. "Try not to worry. Think of our Love. Love me. That is what we both need," he and Love Itself. "In that way, you will be with me. In that way, I will have my own army," Kit smiles gently then.

     Soldekai smiles. "You are too metaphorical for me, Sentinel. But I will be with you," the archangel nods, his arm wrapping around you. "I have been there and I will be there," he says softly, closing his eyes once more.

     "In The Marches, my Brilliance, metaphor is all there is..."
     Warmly, he folds into your embrace, his body not dissolving but rather blending completely with your own. It is, he knows, the last embrace for a while. He will be making it count, taking each moment for its own and celebrating it.
     And he will use it...
     Thoughts of you and This will fill The Marches. Love will fill The Marches, to become armor and shield, sword and army. Until Love and Aspiration together make a path from Hell to Heaven. "I love you," Galadriel whispers, the sweet chimes of angelic affection.
     I love you...
     And Love will find its way...

Posted by rowan at August 22, 2004 03:39 PM