"... Bella? Bella, honey, wake up..." 

She could hear the slight, deep murmuring as she lay suspended in the deep 
blue of sleep -- and then, abruptly, she was awake and could see her father 
standing over her bedside. 

She took a moment to recognize him; there was something about his bearing that 
was entirely foreign -- but beautiful. He smiled at her with a soft, parental 
expression that she could only vaguely remember from childhood. "Good, you're 
awake. You got in late last night, you know." 

"-- What?! Father? I got in where? What's going on?" Bella sat up in bed 
(bed?) hurriedly and glanced around herself, eyes meeting only familiarity. 
She was in her bedroom in Corm Orp, and everything was the way she had left 
it. She was home. (Home?) 

"Shhh... I don't know how you got here, darling, but it isn't important now. 
I suppose you answered the Whispers? With the eyes come the Fever, and I 
always suspected." 

"I... I... no, I *couldn't* have, I don't *have* the Fever, I'm perfectly 
*fine*, you know that, everyone knows that..." 

He smiled again, sweetly but unnervingly, and offered her his hand to climb 
out of bed. "You could. You could and you did, just like I did, but that 
doesn't matter now. We're happy you're here. Come, get dressed... you're just 
in time for your grandmother's Day, too." (Day?) As soon as she was standing, 
he smoothed her hair away from her face before leaving the room, and she turned 
to the wardrobe and opened it. 

... white dresses. It was all white dresses. So, her guess was right -- but 
this meant that *nothing* mattered, and hadn't she always really wanted it? 
Now she could be a part of a happy family again. She picked a dress quickly, 
put it on, and went out to the living (Ha!, said the tiny voice of her inner 
Deneirrath) room. 

The room was perfect, down to the slightest detail, and Bella's father was 
packing up a cake and wine for travel as she entered the room. "There you are! 
We've got to go -- you slept in *so* late, but they say that's normal -- 
and you know how your grandmother is for punctuality. Her gifts are lying 
over there; why don't you carry them for me?" She looked to where he was 
pointing, and saw -- 

-- two daggers, one crude raw metal, one ivory-handled and forged with fine 
elven balance, both covered with drying blood. Yondolla, *no* -- but she 
sighed and picked them up. He nodded, satisfied, and headed towards the door. 
"She'll appreciate having them and knowing you were brave enough. Let's go." 

The outside was just like she'd always imagined it: one wide, green field, 
the landscape dotted with villages, and a pale blue sky nearly coated in 
blindingly white clouds. It was the universe of a child, and she could 
only marvel at the simplicity as her father led her across the village towards 
another smial and lifting her limp hand so she could knock at the door. 
"I know you're still in shock, honey, but you have to understand -- your 
grandfather is away from home so much, and she gets lonely, so she'll be 
overjoyed to know there's more family here..." One knock, and the door began 
to open; soon she was face-to-face with -- 

-- more of the deep blue of sleep, and then Bella *really* woke up.