Svea wasn’t sure whether to smile at the small detail about Eskel’s life, or to frown at it when he mentioned his own familiar. It seemed wrong to have someone with a familiar in her dream that wasn’t also here. It seemed strange to have a person with a full background, depth to them, even a soul. It was uncomfortable. And yet, it was nice to talk about their familiars at the same time. The conscious, dream part of her mind warred with the subconscious logic and twisted her stomach.
That feeling multiplied as he lurched forward at her, and Svea pulled away, throwing her arms up in defense. What had started as a nice, if somewhat romantic dream was slowly turning into a bit of a nightmare. She shrank away, ducking under the arm that was propping him up over her. She may have been confident earlier, but with the battle in her head, that waking piece of her was becoming stronger and Svea was not so forward as all this. Especially not if she was going to be given some vague ultimatum.
His question sealed the deal. She frowned at him, confused. “What?” she demanded, doubt settling inside her. Perhaps he was a dreamwalker, someone out to kidnap Jorg, or get at Rhaegar with information from her. If that were the case, he could have taken any form, would have chosen one she’d trust. With little information about her beyond her religion, the Company of the Wolf was about as trustworthy as it would get. She shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around the invasion. “Why would I need to tell my dream anything?” she asked.
“If you are Fylgirvitnir,” she added, eying the hood with suspicion. “Tell Gylfi and Nils I say hi. Beyond that, there is nothing to say.”
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