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"What are your dreams like ?"
Adam is unnerved by the question's randomness. Why does it matter ? Dreaming is recreational, another way of emptying the mind before carrying on. It's late at night but Ronan had never been one for silly talks. If anything, the lack of sleep makes his thoughts clearer.
"They're dreams," he answers, leaving Ronan's curiosity unsatisfied.
He's asked the same question again a few days later and starts to wonder whether Ronan is mocking him. How cruel would it be for the Greywaren to repeatedly ask from one of his subjects what dreaming is like. It's sometimes frightening, often weird and always utterly random. Truth be told, Adam is so used to Ronan's dreamscape that his had slowly faded to oblivion.
What his dreams are like ?
He slowly notices that everyone talks about their dreams. For Gansey, Welsh kings were and probably still are his dreamscape, hidden in unending forests and deep caves. Blue dreamt of wielding magic on her own, not only the kind that other people can benefit from. Hers is more of cluttered houses, shelves of cards and other magical items. He knows Ronan's too well. The list goes on. Adam can't put his dreams into words, clearly translate them in a format that's understandable. There's nothing to say, not even some pretty nonsense. What is his own dreamscape like ?
It's like Cabeswater, only that he's alone. He thinks, and asks the forest to show him what it's like. But the magical entity doesn't understand. It's like asking him to show humanity. It's already there, as abstract as ever. Adam understands that, yet his anger rises. Cabeswater is not what he wants. Despite this representation coming easily to him, he seeks something else, something personal, and therefore fully rejects this one.
"Why do you care what my dreams are like ?"
Ronan didn't bring up the topic this time. He raised a brow at Adam, as though it's obvious.
"It doesn't feel fair not to know. I'm always talking about mine. Everyone is worrying about them."
Ronan paused. Adam took advantage of the occasion to raise his hands, holding him quiet. He sees the point Ronan is trying to make. Life is unfair, though. The bits or happiness Adam is getting are not enough to make up for it, and Ronan's genuine attempt to restore the balance is oddly annoying. He wished Ronan would leave what's inside his head alone.
"My dreams can't kill. Why won't you see what it's like, by yourself ?"
"Because I don't know what to expect."
Adam feels the indignation in Ronan's voice. Ronan is angered by the use Adam suggests of his magic. He won't use it to get in someone's head, ever.
"Close your eyes."
Adam's voice is sharp, cutting a heart he's aware of owning. Ronan rubs his own arm and looks down. His apparent frailness reached Adam, but he didn't act upon it.
"You're curious to see what it's like," he said. "I'll show you."
His voice grows colder as he speaks. He allowed Ronan's request out of spite, so there's nothing inviting in his manners. Ronan lets out a quick breath and submits to Adam's order.
He barely heard Adam walking behind him over his own obnoxiously loud heartbeat. Ronan flinched as he touched his bare shoulder. Despite the strength of Adam's spell, Ronan was briefly aware of it. Then, the unwelcoming darkness swallowed him.
He feels the floor under his feet and Adam can't fully erase his presence. But that's all there is to it. He sees his own memories through flashes. There's some kind of fuzzy transition between each. There are night horrors lurking above him. He knows they're here because they are the ways he pictures his own shadows. He can't act upon it. It feels like a dulled version of his own dreams.
At some point, he tries to pick up a stone from his dreamt backyard. He touched it, but couldn't pull it off the ground. It kept slipping between his fingers. After a few attempts, he realized that it made no sound. He stood straight and looked around, to the familiar surroundings which the darkness took the shape of. He saw, but he didn't feel.
He must have been getting agitated because Adam released him. He opened his eyes and he was sitting in the Barns' kitchen again. He glanced at Adam over his shoulder, at loss for words. Adam shrugged, both apologetic and 'I told you'-ish.
"I can't dream on purpose. It's obviously- less welcoming."
Ronan stood up.
"I'm the Greywaren," he offered. "Let me help."
The logistic behind it was complicated. Adam had wired his mind to be a fortress and most things here were set in stone. Ronan suggested that to let him in, he should want it first. Or at least be in a better mood, and they decided not to try before either of them got frustrated by the failed attempts.
Adam still wanted to. And so, they tried. Ronan drove them Cabeswater— the real one. They walked about fifteen minutes to a clearing. Adam wondered if the forest could be mad at him as he had rejected it's dreamt twin. It didn't greet either of them, watching. Maybe it wasn't that conscious after all. Saying hello is a typically human gesture. Ronan sat against a tree and motioned Adam to lay on his lap, unaware.
Adam closed his eyes. He's always sort of tired and falls asleep more easily than Ronan.The thread of memories is here again, warped by his subjective interpretation of them. He sees himself standing in front of Ronan. He hears the words he said, feels the venom and his own jealousy darkening the room. He snaps out of it but everything is pitch black. He knows he can only push his stubborness to a certain extent. He won't make sense of his dreamscape as long as he does not want to embrace it.
Something drags him to his room at St Agnes. It's slightly bigger. There is more light, impossibly more windows. Ronan isn't there. His textbooks are gone and seeing the clear desk feels awkward. He walked to the door and opened it. It leaded nowhere, or rather, wherever he wanted to go.
He chose to wake up.
He sees Ronan looming over him, he feels their tangled fingers and the soft grass under him. He starts to panic as he can't immediately will himself to move. Ronan told him to go easy on himself and laughed. Adam moved his head, attempting to get more comfortable. He feels like he had been laying on the ground for hours.
"What's it like ?"
"You didn't see ?"
He still avoids giving a direct answer and Ronan eventually understands that this will remain one of Adam's secrets. He looked up at the tree leaves. The sun shone brighter. The river grew louder and the wind, stronger.
"I was merely a tool of communication between you and the ley line. So, no, I didn't see."
Adam feels immensely relieved. Ronan's wish to feel was granted, and they both enjoyed their awareness of the sensible world.
"Thank you."
He can almost hear Ronan's eyeroll.
"Think you can figure it out sometimes ?"
"Sometimes," Adam nods, aware that while he can - as in, is able to - figure it out, he most likely won't do any active research.