Part Deux - The Dream Continues

Here after my long nap, is the rest of the story. If you haven't already read the beginning (or even if you have - I've taken so long now, you may want to start over!), the story begins here.

Even though it was the most comfortable bed she'd ever had the pleasure of lying upon,
Ursa's fever caused her to toss fitfully.

She floated through strange dreams of rushing rivers with leaping salmon; the buzzing of bees; hawks circling overhead. An intense scent of ripe, juicy blackberries seemed to permeate the air.  She  could almost taste them; wait , that was real!  She  licked her lips -  tried to open her  eyes, but they were so heavy. There seemed to be a warm hand supporting her head, while another was spooning a berry liqueur of some sort into her mouth...too dehydrated, tired and ill to question the circumstances, she gratefully accepted the sweet liquid, before drifting off deliriously once again.

At some point during her long sleep, she felt the bed shift beneath her from the weight of another. She rolled over, confused thinking she was at home; her little sister getting up or down in the night as she so often did, patting the form in the dark beside her she felt the bearskin and remembered the trials of - was that today? Or yesterday? How long had she slept. She tried to rouse herself, fearing what the stranger might be planning; but she should move quietly so as not to alert him...

A low voice came from under the  shadowy figure of the bearskin:
"Rest. My thanks for your gifts. I had a great need and you fulfilled it. To repay you - you have nothing to fear from me - for now I must sleep.  I must warn you though, when I awaken, there will be a need for food. But now, sleep, now..." the voice trailed off; followed by an immense yawn. Deep breaths, that  evolved  into snoring.

Slightly reassured, still too weak to even lift the heavy bearskin, and feeling the influence still of whatever liqueur she'd partaken, Ursa followed the stranger into sleep, rather literally, in fact.

The dreams that followed were even more strangely alive than the earlier ones...Oddly, her vision seemed somewhat fogged in these imaginings, yet all of her other senses were heightened. She felt she could smell all of the forest and follow each thread of scent to its source, down to the tiniest mushroom on a distant hill. She could hear the whispering descent of the last autumn leaves, as they drifted to the ground; the soft fluttering   of a moth's velvety wings bouncing off the moonlight. Even more bizarre was the presence of the stranger in her dreams. Here in this forest of her imagination, he seemed to be less of a stranger, much more like a familiar, lifelong companion. A friend with whom you no longer had to fill in the void between you with words - for your very thoughts fell into alignment. They ambled together amiably through the autumn leaves, drinking in the night's scents and sounds. These had taken on whole new dimensions; Ursa marveled in experiencing the world in these new ways. Tasting scents; touching the texture of sounds; breathing in the thoughts of another, without words.

Time itself seemed to bend. These fantasies of companionable wandering, and adventures went on simultaneously for a night or a week. For a seaon or a lifetime. Nights flowed into days, into weeks.  The moon grew larger and smaller, waxing and waning, in a few breaths; while the stars wheeled round. The sun rose and set in the space of a heartbeat. The rain turned to snow, and back to rain again, washing the world good as new. Tiny verdant speckles dotted the earth, then sprouted into grasses; the two companions rolled together, reveling in the burgeoning green. The clouds flew across the sky - almost as quickly as the flocks of wild geese, that were flying...back north.

North! Spring! Somehow this brought Ursa sharply into consciousness; seemingly, her bedmate as well (this word sprang unself-consciously to her mind; the intimacy of their dreamlife too fresh and strong, to still think of him as a stranger) - the faint light of dawn barely illuminated the still,  fur-covered form beside her. His snoring faded into a different rhthym of breathing that told her he too was waking.

"Food," he mumbled. "Quickly. Now."

Without thought, feeling light-headed and heavy-bodied,  Ursa roused herself as quickly as she could. He had been kind; and the dreams; the dreams... had they been nothing more than that? They felt too real. Then, too, she felt the hunger - an overwhelming hunger. Was there anything left in her baskets?

Still covered by the bearskin, somehow she seemed caught in it, she clambered to the end of the bed where she vaguely remembered leaving them. Empty! she gasped.There was only a layer of dried berries left in the bottom of one of the tightly woven baskets.  How had he possibly eaten that much in one sitting? And how did the berries dry so  quickly? 

"Take a handful out for yourself. Then open the spigot over them," companion growled. "But be careful! Don't taste any yourself."

It seemed their thoughts still were entangled.  She  knew instantly  what he meant.  She poured  a handful of berries out onto the bed, then held the tightly woven basket with the remaining berries, under the silver spigot protruding from the living maple bedpost. Turning the handle of the spigot, she balanced the basket underneath and watched the amber liquid spilling out. The smell of the sweet syrup made her salivate; when a drop splashed upwards onto her lip, she quickly licked it Mmm, sweet, delicious...

"No!"

Startled, Ursa nearly dropped the basket. "What's wrong?"

"You've sealed it now!" her strange bedfellow was now sitting mostly upright in the bed; another bearskin draped round him. Strange, she thought, I didn't realize there were two on the bed...

"Sealed what?"

He slumped back on the pillows, sighing heavily. "What's done is done. Perhaps it was meant to be. At least now I can't harm you." His stomach growled mightily. "Food! Now!" he roared.

Confused, frightened again, Ursa shoved the basket across the bed, wondering why her hands suddenly felt so clumsy.

He grabbed the basket from her - was he wearing gloves? The light seemed so dim, and her vision still seemed cloudy, as it had in the dream. She raised her hands to rub her eyes; the fur from the bearskin, splashes  of the maple syrup  must have stuck it  onto her. She started to scratch it off, then the realization began to slowly sink in...

He looked at her with compassion, as he finished licking his paw clean. "I tried to warn you."

She thought back through the myriad of dreams they'd shared. Of how the bearskin had clung tightly to her even upon first waking, before tasting the magical elixir. "I know. But I think it was already meant to be; and," she took a deep breath, "I think it will be alright."

"Then it will be," he moved closer to her on the bed, so they could rub their snouts together. "It will be, then."

I think they lived happily ever after, too. Right after they started the first cub scout troop : ) 

I hope you enjoyed this, that it was worth waiting for me to get up from my long nap to finish telling you. For more bedtime stories, visit Sunday Scribblings.

And for wherever you are in the world, I wish you Good Morning, Good Day, Good Night!

Comments

[Paris Parfait]

Well that was unexpected! A totally different tangent that I would have imagined. Well done! You really have a flair for writing artfully.

[tinker]

You know, oddly enough it took me by surprise, too!
Thanks for the nice compliment : )

[Imelda]

Marvellous ending. Yes. I had a sense that there was something meaningful in her name, but couldn't have seen how the story would go. Well done. Loved it.

[Ninnie]

Loved the story. You are great, it was great.

[Jill]

Delicious.

[violetismycolor]

wow, what a good writer you are! loved the ending.

[judie]

Oh my gosh! Now I remember. Ursa...Greek Mythology...a bear. And in the solar system too. Shoulda known. But all along I thought she was real and sleeping in a bear's bed, and when he awoke he was going to gobble her up. Love your stories! When I was very young I used to go to the library on Saturdays and listen to "Mrs. Brown" the storyteller. This is taking me back.........to fun times. :)