 "Look, Svea!" Jorg shouts as he charged forwards to greet her in the doorway, brandishing his new toys, "look what Mama and Papa brought me!" He's grinning, his hair flopping into his face as he jumps backwards and crouches down behind his little round shield. Jorg glances at his Father and sees him grinning. He'd been scared when they'd first knocked on the door, remembering the last time his Papa had come to visit. Rhaegar had been laughing as he'd crossed the threshold and Jorg had relaxed almost instantly.
"Remember to tuck your feet in," his father says, nodding down at Jorg's bare toes sticking out from beneath the bottom of the shield.
"Right," the little boy says, wiggling them until they disappear behind the circle of wood. He waves his little wooden sword at Nana. She'll be playing a dragon today.
He squeaks and runs around his Mama's legs, his little fingers brushing against the back of her knees. Jorg darts for the sofa and spins around, setting his shield against the arm of the chair to create a make-shift shield wall. He feels a surge of joy as Rhaegar starts laughing again and Jorg chances a glance in his mother's direction. She isn't laughing, she isn't even smiling; she's just looking at Svea with a strange expression Jorg doesn't recognise.
"Mama!" he calls, eager to capture her attention from himself, "Mama, distract the dragon!" She doesn't turn around immediately, but when she does Jorg sees nothing but her.
"Of course, dırteina" she purrs, advancing on Nana with a playful smirk.
---
Jorg sleeps dreaming about the best day he'd had since he and Svea had been to the Carnival. His new sword and shield were sitting in pride of place on top of his toy chest. His tranquillity turns slowly to restless. His head starts tossing back and forth and his forehead knits in a frown of anguish. The dream begins to change around him, it is no longer the happy afternoon he'd lived. He's dropped his shield, it rolls across the living room floor and wobbles to a stop at Rhaegar's feet. His father grows angry, his eyes are flashing and he's starting to shout. He seems impossibly tall, towering over Jorg like a monster from one of Svea's stories. Jorg starts to run, he can feel his feet pounding against the wooden floor. Glancing back over his shoulder he sees the truth. It isn't his Papa at all, it's a creature; tall and scary with long claws and dripping fangs.
He's running faster, the trees are whipping against his cheeks and still the thing keeps following him. Jorg trips over a tree root which hadn't been there before and falls face-first into the wet leaves. His sword flies out of his hand and he tries to scramble after it. The thing is almost upon him, he can feel it breathing down his neck.
"No!" he bellows as he scrambles for his sword. It's no longer made of wood, it's real and the steel shines in the moonlight. Jorg reaches for it and holds it out, but the creature is too quick for him. Its knocked it out of his hands and pins him down. He can feel himself sinking into the mud.
"No!" he shouts again, unfolding his arms in an attempt to push the creature off him. Suddenly he's surrounded by fire. The creature is screaming as the flames crackle all around them. Jorg can feel the heat of it, making him sweat.
Something is wrong. He sits up in his bed, no longer in the forest, but back in his bedroom. Jorg's left the monster behind, but he's brought the fire with him. His curtains are aflame, filling the room with black smoke as it eats through the fabric. Jorg can't find his voice.
"Svea!" he cries desperately, throwing himself out of bed. He rushes forwards and throws his shield and sword to safety. As he grabs hold of the handle of his toy chest to drag that to safety to, a piece of burning curtain drops onto the back of his hand. It hurts. It's a different kind of pain to when his Papa hurt his arm. He brushes it away, scolding his finger tips.
"Svea!" he screams, running across the room to pound his fists against the door, "Nana! Help!"
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