The Dream

I remember my father, as a man of imposing brawn and stature. There were times when his aura was almost blinding. And yet, in private moments, he could be as meek as a lamb. His duties as ruler of kept him occupied most all the time, but every now and then he would shut out the world and be mine. Dad was not much of a talker but you could always tell what he was thinking by his expressions.
My older brother, , was always saying that dad cared more for his people than us. Ever since the time he ran away, and our father had to rescue him from the , things were different between them. Even when father took us on hunting trips to or , the tension between them never eased.
My father was called many names. King, Mayor, Your Majesty, Your Highness, , , and Lionheart are some of the names I most often heard growing up. Ol' Bill called him and mom called him Dodger and then she would giggle. (Why Dodger? I'll never know.) Logan called him "Father" in his condescending tone. But I was the only one he would let call him his special name.... Pa-Pa.
The next thing I remember I was standing in the doorway of our cottage on . Pa-Pa had brought us here from the castle because he said we were in great danger there and he only hoped we would be safe here. He had changed his clothes and was wearing a monks robe with bandaged hands and feet. I asked him why, because he owned such wonderful outfits. He merely said that where he had to go he could take no vanity or personal possessions along. I clenched my toy sword and toy bow in my hands, as the sun glistened off of his and his . He loved those two weapons probably more than any others but he also had his and the packed as well. When I asked him why he would need those weapons he only said that he would fight Heaven or Hell to save his Albion. I cried for him to stay Pa-Pa don't go, Pa-Pa, Pa-Pa, Pa-Pa.......
It was then that I awoke.... ( begins here)