Who: Laurence and Spencer What: Laurence has his first dream, Spencer clues him into the Network When: Early January Where: The Hastings' house Rating/Warning: Low/none Status: Complete
Laurence had been expecting to be returning to England, and to his ship by the end of the week. He’d been too long from duty, he knew, but the furlough had been nice. He did enjoy spending time with his mother, and his brothers. His father was still cold to Laurence, having never really approved of Laurence’s decision to join the Navy, but they’d been perfectly civil and had even managed to have some rather interesting conversations at times. He’d rather enjoyed the company of the Hastings as well, in particular Spencer, who seemed to be turning into a rather fine young woman. Still, he was not sad to be returned to his ship.
That was when he got the call from Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. He was to be stationed with the United States Navy. It was an honour, he knew, and he could hardly refuse an order, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t someone else who both better deserved and better desired the post. He hadn’t spent much time at all on land since he’d joined the Navy when he was sixteen, he had even finished secondary school through correspondents. He wasn’t entirely sure he knew what he was going to do with himself. And while he knew better than to bond with the HMS Reliant, he was going to miss both her and his Lieutenant.
It was supposed to be his last dinner with the Hastings and his more immediate family before the Laurences returned home, and that was when he delivered the news. While normally blessed with easy conversation, Laurence was quiet during the dinner, and then retired to his bedroom immediately after, citing his need to begin looking for an apartment in the morning.
Perhaps the upheaval could explain the dream he had that night. It had started off strange, but in a logical kind of way. He was on the deck of a ship, having just taken a French ship of the line in 1805, during the Napoleonic Wars. A little unusual as far as Laurence’s dreams went, but not unexpected.
At least, not until the dragon egg showed up.
It had clearly been on the ship for some time, and was near to hatching, which meant that someone on board had to harness it, and become a Captain in the Aerial Corp. Not a life anyone would particularly want. The Aerial Corp were notoriously wild, and by necessity were removed from society. After all, they had to always be with their dragon.
Laurence had never been particularly prone to fancy, and he couldn’t remember ever dreaming of anything so fantastic as a dragon, but the sudden He hadn’t been the man to draw the short straw, but the dragon, Temeraire as Laurence named it, seemed to choose him anyway. And just as, in his dream, he fell asleep to Temeraire’s gentle breathing, he was being awoken in real life with his mother’s hand on his shoulder.
“Mother?” he asked, opening his eyes. The light was just starting to rise over the horizon.
“Yes, Will. We’re just leaving for the airport and I wanted to wish you goodbye.”
“Thank you, Mother,” he said, smiling at her. “Have a safe journey.”
“We will. I’ll make sure to call when we land,” she responded, and then her feet strayed from his feet to his bedside table.
“Where did you get that?” she asked curiously.
Laurence turned toward the bedside table, and found himself at a temporary loss for words. Folded carefully on his bedside table was the naval captain’s uniform that he had been wearing in the dreams, as if it had come straight out of 1805.
“I’m not sure,” he managed to say after a pause that was just a little too long. “Spencer must have thought I’d like it. Allow me to get dressed, and I’ll see you out.”
When he returned to his room, he picked up the uniform and turned it over in his hands. Just like in his dream, there was one gold epaulette in the pocket. He’d placed it there when he’d given its twin, and his ship, to Lt. Riley. The entire thing was exactly as it had been in the dream, and when he tried on the jacket, it fit him as though it had been tailored for him.
He returned it to his bedside table, and made his way downstairs to make himself a cup of coffee, and then sat there nursing it until Spencer walked into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” he greeted her. “The coffee’s fresh.”
Spencer was in her pajamas. If Laurence had been anyone besides family--a friend, perhaps, or her new brother-in-law, or whatever--she’d probably have showered, changed, put on her face, and done something with her hair. As it was, though, she was in her pajamas, raccoon-eyed from last night’s mascara, and her hair was quite definitely a mess.
“Mmm.” Spencer lived for coffee. They always had good stuff in her house, and she moved, zombie-like, across the kitchen to pour herself a bucket mug of the stuff. “Your parents leave?” She’d slept through it all.
Laurence smiled at the sight of her. In a family where no one came into the shared living quarters without being completely presentable and ready for the day, it was refreshing to stay with the Hastings where people could stumble into the kitchen having just woken up. “Yes,” Laurence affirmed. “They left for their plane about an hour ago. Mother tells me she’ll call once they return home. I assume they’ll be calling the house phone.” Laurence didn’t have a cell phone yet, and he made a mental note that that was yet another of the things he needed to get settled today. Once he found an apartment, perhaps he should invest in a landline as well.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Mmm.” It was a good thing that Spencer’s family still had a house phone. There were a lot of people out there who had given theirs up. “We’ll have to get you a cell phone. You don’t have one yet, do you?” Well, not one that would work here easily. He’d have to get a new SIM card, or something. Spencer couldn’t brain before coffee.
Speaking of which, she lifted the full mug with both hands to rest right under her nose. It smelled like heaven. Then she sipped. “I did. Something in the air down here agrees with me, I think.”
“No, not yet.” His phone wasn’t unlocked, and even with a new SIM card his phone wouldn’t pick up a signal in the US. It was entirely his fault, and he was regretting it now. “I was planning on picking one up today before I begin apartment hunting. Though I’d be delighted with the company if you wished to come with me.”
He frowned to himself, trying to think of how to tactfully ask the question. He didn’t believe that Spencer had given him the uniform, not in truth, but he had to ask after all. It was the only logical explanation for its sudden appearance. Perhaps he had subconsciously caught sight of it as he had been falling asleep and that had inspired the strange dream he’d had.
“By the way, Spencer. You didn’t happen to get me an antique naval captain’s uniform, did you?” he asked, managing, to his relief, to ask it as if the question was of no consequence.
“Sure.” Spencer gave him a smile. “I’d love to help in any way I can.” She didn’t have school or homework yet, so it was the perfect time for her to help. Besides, Spencer was pretty good with numbers and legalese, so she could help him sign up for the best cell plan there was.
She was sipping as he asked his next question, and her eyebrow raised over the coffee mug. “An antique naval captain’s uniform?” She asked, mind buzzing a little at the question. It sounded like something appeared out of nowhere. “Where would I even get one of those?” She asked, not unkindly.
“Wonderful,” Laurence said sincerely, smiling warmly at Spencer. He was glad that he got along with her. If he had to live in California until his next assignment, he was glad at least that he had family that he got along well with.
“No, I didn’t think you did,” Laurence admitted, and lapsed into silence. He didn’t answer her question, because he didn’t know of the answer himself. Where the uniform could have appeared from was a mystery he’d have to mull over himself, as his one lead had now gone.
“Sounds like you’ve got a mystery on your hands.” Spencer mused. She wondered if the strange, naval uniform had something to do with those weird Dreams people talked about here. Or the weird occurrences that were rampant in Orange County. She lifted the coffee mug to her lips again and blew across the top. The worst thing about hot coffee was burning one’s tongue on a sip. The best thing about hot coffee was pretty much everything else.
“Anyway, I’ll go get dressed and we can pop out to get you a phone this morning.” She said, then turned to head out of the kitchen. She’d need a few minutes to get dressed.
“Yes,” Laurence agreed. He nodded when he said that she was going to get dressed. “Perhaps you’d like to see the uniform in question once you get dressed,” he suggested. “You may be able to tell me where someone might get something like that in this area.” Then again, perhaps he shouldn’t obsess over the uniform so much. The most likely explanation was that someone had wanted to get it to him as a surprise gift and also would prefer to remain anonymous while doing it.
“Oh, yeah. Wait. You wanna show me now?” Spencer said, turning back to face the kitchen. She was still holding the hot coffee mug gently between her hands. “It’s on the way to my room, anyway.” The house was big, but the hallway she used the most led past the guest bedroom and bathroom to where Spencer’s room was at the far end.
Laurence nodded. The sooner the better. Maybe she’d be able to solve his mystery for him, and then he wouldn’t have the weight of it on his mind any longer. “Just this way,” he said, leading the way to his room.
He’d carefully refolded the uniform when he’d taken it off, the blue uniform jacket with the gold-facing buttons and cuffs spread over top of it so that it didn’t wrinkle, and now he carefully unfolded the whole thing and spread it on his bed. The breeches and white stockings were clean and pressed, as was the white waistcoat. He hadn’t reattached the gold epaulette to the shoulder of his jacket - it seemed wrong, somehow, as he’d given up his rank as captain when he’d taken on Temeraire - but it still sat securely in the breast pocket of the uniform. He finished laying out the clothes by placing the cocked hat at the head of the bed.
“I can hardly consider myself an expert on antique uniforms, but it seems to remarkably accurate,” he said, as though it were some unimportant, yet interesting fact, and not something that was causing him a good deal of distress for his inability to account for it.
Spencer was actually feeling a little more awake as she followed him into the guest bedroom to take a look. The coffee had helped quite a bit. She set the cup aside on a dresser, and blinked as she stepped over to the uniform. “Well.” She said, folding her arms across her chest. “This is… quite unusual.”
Of course, Spencer wasn’t an expert on antique uniforms at all, but she’d seen enough documentaries, museum exhibits, and photos in books to tell when something was the real deal. And this seemed like the real deal. “I’ve never seen it before, and believe me I tore this room apart before you guys got here. Are you… I mean, you didn’t ask my parents about it, did you?”
Laurence shook his head. “No. I haven’t seen them yet this morning. And I had thought to ask you about it first. It seemed a gift more likely from you than from either of them,” though now that assumption seemed a little foolish. A gift like this would have no doubt been expensive, much more so than a university student could afford.
Spencer had read about the weird gifts that people on Valarnet got from their Dreams. It was strange, though. Was Laurence on Valarnet? How would he have heard about it? Did she invite him? She couldn’t remember. Maybe after another cup of coffee she would. Was her cousin a Dreamer?
“No, it’s definitely not from me. And I doubt it’s from Melissa.” How to ask about the website? “...have you joined any new social media websites since you’ve come to California?”
Laurence frowned. That seemed like a peculiar question given the context of all they’d discussed so far, and his mind immediately set to the task of trying to tie it in. Unfortunately, each idea that came to him was more absurd than the last. “No,” he said, nonplussed. “Why do you ask?”
“Nothing.” Spencer said, shaking her head. She slipped her hands into the back pockets of her pajama pants as she observed the uniform. “It’s nothing. Just… a theory.” She cleared her throat. “All right, there’s this website where people talk about really crazy things. And sometimes people talk about things appearing in their closets. Dream gifts they call them.”
“Dream gifts?” Laurence exclaimed, before mastering himself again. It was impossible to forget the dream that he’d had before the uniform had appeared next to his bed, and he had to quickly run through their previous conversation to be sure that he hadn’t mentioned such a thing to her already.
But he was certain that he hadn’t. He had never been one to discuss his dreams with people, no matter how vivid. Especially since it was fairly easy to deduce where the dream had come from. It was a little out of the norm for him, but it seemed obvious enough that it was just his subconscious attempting to come to grips with his new position in the Navy.
At least, that’s what he thought it had been. “My apologies, but I’m going to need you to clarify. Surely you don’t mean that people dream of things and then they just… appear,” he asked, eyeing the uniform with a newfound wariness.
Spencer hadn’t had any Dreams herself, and wasn’t sure she really believed any of the talk online. But the look on his face when she mentioned Dreams, and the random appearance of a uniform? Now she was wondering if he was having these Dreams. If this was all real. It was a crazy thing to think about…
“I didn’t believe it, either.” Spencer said, softly. “But the only other explanation is mass hallucinations, so… I’m not sure which explanation Occam's razor would prefer.”
Laurence frowned. “So, there are more people with these dreams?” he asked. Laurence had always thought that in order for people to have mass hallucinations, first they must be aware of the hallucinations. And the uniform was certainly no hallucination. “So everyone has these dreams? Of Napoleon and dragons?”
“Yeah. Well, no. Not exactly.” Spencer ducked out of the guest bedroom and popped down the hall. She came back with an index card and a pen from her bedroom, and moved to the dresser to write it down for him. “I don’t know if they all Dream about Napoleon and dragons…” She paused in her writing to glance up at him thoughtfully. “Those sound like excellent Dreams, by the way,” then went back to it. When she was finished, she’d written the website down and her username for it--so he could find her. She offered him the index card. “You can see for yourself. They all talk about it pretty openly on the forum.”
Laurence smiled tightly at her statement. He wasn’t entirely sure how he thought about any dreams, but especially ones that featured something as ridiculous as a dragon, but he could see where she was coming from. England’s Navy had been unrivaled during the Napoleonic era, and he couldn’t say he would have been entirely opposed to dreaming of being in the actual wars.
“Thank you, Spencer,” he said, taking the information in hand and looking at it thoughtfully. “I will look into this.”