A/N: This is what you get after watching Possession at 10 at night. Some small changes to the Buffyverse: 1. Tara was shot, but did not die, 2. Buffy, when shot by Warren, did die, but only for a few minutes, (Xander saved her again) and 3. Thinking Buffy dead, Willow did go evil & powerful and went to England for rehab, etc.
Disclaimer: Nobody is mine, except Nessa Elanessë, Aredhel Telperion & Larien Elensar.
Setting: after RotK, between season six & seven
Willow Rosenberg opened her eyes. She watched light play across the ceiling, slowly sitting up and looking around the familiar room. Someone, probably Nessa, had placed a gown at the foot of her bed. She had never thought in her wildest dreams she would come to the very place she had been dreaming about every day for three months, but it had happened.
It began three months ago, when she had had the first of many dreams.
She was standing on a countryside road at night when a huge black horse with a rider galloped past. The rider was wearing a streaming black cloak with a hood, but the thing that frightened her was the fact that there was nothing under that hood. Not even eyes. Then the scene shifted, where she was crouched underneath a tree root with four short young men. Above her was another black-clothed rider, its horse pawing at the ground angrily. Then the fear came, swamping her senses until she could hardly breath. It was so cold, and she was sinking ever deeper into white-hot pain. She couldn’t stand it any longer and ran out from her hiding place. The thing turned its head towards her…and Willow woke up.
The second dream, she was sitting on a chair in a lovely room with silken curtains and decorations shaped like twining leaves. Across from her a woman with waist-length deep brown hair and a velvet gown sat silently weeping on a bed. She bent over, letting her hair fall into her face as her shoulders shook. Quietly she straightened, whispered “It is hopeless.” and stood up, walking gracefully out the door.
In her third dream, Willow was standing on the high wall of a fortress. She was facing a huge army of terrible ugly creatures, but they didn’t arouse as much fear as the black-clothed riders did. She was surrounded by stony-faced men in full armor, listening to rain pattering on their helmets. Without any warning, an old man accidentally fired a crossbow bolt and a raging battle began. Crying, Willow watched men younger than her slaughtered mercilessly by the creatures. Suddenly a creature came towards her, grinning and raising a bloodied axe.
Every time Willow had this dream, she woke screaming for Buffy and Tara.
And every time, when they came, she’d say it was only a dream.
But that was before it became real, before dream became reality.
She had been having a new dream, a comforting one, where she was sitting in the pretty room, playing with a bit of silk. Softly, then louder, a voice was saying something in another language. She couldn’t understand it, but it soothed her. Suddenly she was whirling through color and light, until she was back in the room she had just been dreaming of.
Except this time, she was really there.