She saw fields of tall, golden wheat. The sun beat down, too much. It grew larger, angrier, and a roaring fire engulfed the feilds in a flash.
She saw white flowers, stained in blood. Puddles of water turned a burning orange, and flames overtook the flowers.
She saw herself, looking up, as legions of fishing hooks flew for her, tips glistening. Then, flames overtook again.
She saw memories, memories of a life before this one. Cruelty, torture, coldness, and the hints of affection sprinkled throughout. They darted through her mind in a flash, and she found herself standing over the body of her father. The fishing hook was lodged in his neck.
She looked up, seeing the stars that granted her freedom. The stars sparkled aflame, and a chorus of voices clammered as a fire roared through the skies.
"You do not deserve freedom, Aglarari the Rancorous!"
The flames shot down from the sky, consuming her.
~~~
She sat straight up, throwing the sheets off herself as she awoke screaming bloody terror. She winced, the sunlight causing a headache she did not realize she had to worsen. Her head pounded as nausea took over, she bent over and clenched her stomach as a cold sweat broke out. "Oh..."
She remembered that she had consumed an entire bottle of brandy last night. Oh yeah. Hangovers existed. She was unused to being drunk.
She continued to lurch, gagging as she threw herself off the bed and grabbed an unused flower pot nearby. She emptied stomach acid into the pot, vibrating. Well, this day was off to a good start.
She stayed in her room for a long time, nursing her stomach and tossing and turning in bed. Eventually, the headaches and sensitivity to light retreated; she felt well enough to take the disgusting pot outside and clean it. The lake behind her house was an excellent source of water. Though it was pathetically small compared to the Sea of Nurnen or Lake Evendim, it still felt like home. After cleaning the pot, which was revolting, she retreated inside in the summer heat. As she did so, a wave of dizziness overtook her. She gasped, leaning against the wall of her cottage. What was this? When would the hangover let up? She thought she had waited it out.
Once inside, she spied Nimraph. He had fallen asleep in her library, curled up in her book nook next to the fireplace. She smiled, cheeks turning red as she reflected in how adorable, cute, and hot her betrothed was right now. Then again, when was he not the apple of her eye? Right now, he made her feel better by simply being there.
~~~
Fishing hooks.
It was a sea of fishing hooks.
Eira found herself surrounded by fishing hooks, all around her. She felt the jagged points scratching her, cutting her, drawing blood. Pain seared her body as she tried to swim out, only for the hooks to dig in deeper. She paused, petrified, when she felt a single hook dig into her neck.
~~~
Eira gasped, awakening in her bed once again. She panted heavily, looking up. Through her bed's canopy drapes, the dim night sky was clear through the window. The stars did not taunt her tonight.
"My blossom?"
Nimraph stirred next to her. A wave of nausea took her, but never consumed her. She gulped, admitting that she had another bad dream to him. She then felt him half roll on top of her, wrapping his arms around her. His breathe brushed against her face and she felt goosebumps. Yet, the nausea sitting in the pit of her stomach did not go away.
Why was she experiencing these things when she woke up? Was it a part of her nightmares?
~~~
Her rest that night had been sound and serene. Sure, the drought was worsening and she was worried about Nimraph's sons, but her nightmares were starting to wane.
Yet, when she woke up, she was still nauseous and light headed.
Why was this happening? Was she sick? It was also the fourth day past when her monthly should have started, and she did not even feel the symptoms - aside, perhaps, some strange aching swelling. She was honestly worried. She turned her head, looking upon a still sleeping Nimraph. She had never actually thrown up, luckily, but she was tired of feeling this every day. She sighed, determining that she would head to Doctor Raevenhart as soon as she could.
The opportunity had come in that very day.
She marched through the scathing summer heat between Millshaw and Bree, along the Greenway. Eventually, in town, the traveller found herself knocking on the door of a familiar doctor's office.
"Rae?" She called into the building as she lightly knocked, "I think something's wrong with me. Please, help?"
~~~
"I'm... what?... Pregnant?"
