Summary - she crashed into his realm on a gloomy afternoon and everything changed. A stranger, who was neither human, nor a deity, she walked through his hallways like she belonged there, dragging chaos in her wake. She disrupted his entire existence and he was left to question everything he knew.
Content warnings - minors DNI, slow burn, injuries and blood, angst, mutual pining, jealousy, insecurities, PTSD, smut in later chapters, physical and emotional intimacy, Dream as his own warning.
Pairing - Dream of the Endless x f!reader
Note: Just trying something new! This will be taking a bit of a turn from canon.
Masterlist
Prologue
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six...
Cross-posted on AO3 here
Summary - Holiday gloom hit full force and out of nowhere, and it was impossible for Morpheus not to notice. Or do something about it.
Content warnings - none - just some holiday blues and fluff
Pairing - Dream of the Endless x f!reader
Note: First of the winter one-shots! Hope you enjoy it ^^ Drop me a message if you have any other ideas! 💚❄️
The moment Morpheus left the familiarity of his realm and set foot into your house, he knew something was wrong.
The twinkling string lights that you insisted on hanging on every single corner of the house still sparkled. White, red, blue and gold baubles hung on your potted plants and furniture, some tied with thick red ribbons and glued over windows. Thick green branches of pines in a vase on the kitchen table.
Everything looked the same as the last time he’s been here. Which was mere days ago.
However, the house felt too quiet. He knew something was wrong just from the lack of any noise coming from around him. Usually, he would be assaulted by the loud music blasting from the small device you carry around with you, or by the incessant chatter from the TV in your living room and whatever movie you were watching (putting on for background noise) at the time.
On any normal day, you would feel his presence shortly after he stepped foot inside. He would listen to the hurried steps on the wooden floor before you would round the corner and launched yourself in his arms.
And at that moment, everything would be right again. The small slivers of life itself would fall back into places - something he wouldn’t even notice was wrong in the first place before you were back in his arms.
He wouldn’t feel like his presence was too large to fit in the skin he chose. He was sure that if he had a heart, it would be beating wildly out of the rhythm, but no way near in any uncomfortable way.
But none of this happened. The house was quiet, and the silence in which he would usually bask was deafening. He knew you were near, as he always did, but Morpheus could not hear your footsteps on the floor.
You did not run to him.
And that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
He rounded the corner towards where he felt you were, and his eyes immediately widened once he spotted you. It didn’t look like you knew he was next to you, so Dream took the moment to take in your appearance.
You were lying on the sofa, legs flung over the armrest and a blanket wrapped tightly around you. Thick, winter socks on your feet and your arms gripping the small pillow, holding it to your chest.
But the thing that unsettled him the most was the vacant, defeated look in your eyes.
The sight of it was completely unacceptable, and Morpheus felt a wave of cold anger wash over his entire being. The need to wreak havoc was stirring under his skin when he took another stop closer and you did not so much as blink in awarness.
"Who has hurt you?" He spoke softly, but his voice seemed to reverberate through the quiet room and you startled.
The edge of anger in his tone alarmed you momentarily, before you remembered the state you’re currently in and how you must look like from his point of view.
You felt a smile twitch on your lips before lifting your chin out from under the blanket to speak.
"Unrealistic expectations? Commercialism? Global warming?" You shrugged, and a sight of liveliness touched your face.
You knew Morpheus was not the greatest with sarcasm or social interactions in general, so it didn’t surprise you much when confusion mixed in with the anger on his face.
You sighed and wiggled around to try and sit up, all the way trying to keep the blanket wrapped around you in the cocoon of warmth.
"No one hurt me, and I'm not upset, Dream.” You looked him straight in the eyes to make sure he knew you were not lying. It took him several long beats before his tense shoulders relaxed by a fraction. He still regarded you with a wary expression, as if not sure what to make of the situation.
"You are... solemn.” He muttered in observation and took a step closer to you.
"Maybe you're finally rubbing off on me." You lift your eyebrow back at him and shrug, but he regards you with a blank, completely unimpressed look.
A first real laugh slips past your lips, and for the first time today, you feel just a little lighter.
"It's nothing, love, really. Just..." You trail off, not really knowing how to string the sentences together to make sense of what's currently swirling inside your chest. The grey cloud of gloom still looming over your brain, making everything seem worse than it really should be.
Overthinking was the worst, but then again, you never did enjoy ignorance, no matter how much easier it would be.
Dream sits patiently by your side, and from the way he's looking at you, you're sure he will not be letting you drop the subject. You sigh deeply.
"I don't know. It just doesn't feel right, you know? We're halfway through December, and I just don't feel it."
Dream is looking at you intently, and you're once again questioning if you're even expressing yourself right.
"It's the holiday season, you know? Usually, I would be happier, more excited. But I just don't feel it - I can see the decorations in the street, and we put the lights up in the living room, and we have the tiny tree like always, but it just doesn't feel right. Like, I'm doing it just because that's what I'm supposed to do this time of year, but it just feels... wrong." You let out a frustrated sigh and lean your head on his shoulder.
It's easier to explain yourself when you don't have to look at him, especially when he's watching you so intensely. A second later, you feel his arm wrap around you and warmth spreads from the patch of skin his fingers trace. You move around a bit until your knees touch his thigh.
"It's not even cold outside. I actually took off my scarf coming back home today, because it was too warm. It's December? How can it be so warm that I can walk with my jacket unzipped in the evening?" You grumble in despair, and Morpheus hums in agreement. Or just as a sign that he's still listening.
"It just doesn't feel like it used to."
You heave another dramatic sigh and suddenly feel ashamed for unloading all of this on him. He's the Dream of the Endless, The Lord Shaper - the one responsible for keeping and protecting the combined subconscious of all living beings in the universe at any given second and here you are, complaining about something so inconsequential. So mundane and insignificant in the bigger scheme of things.
You breathe in sharply, trying to dispel the lingering, desolate air clinging to your skin and look up at him. His eyes are already on you, and you give him a smile in return.
"Anyway, tell me about your day instead." You lean in and peck his lips softly, eyes fluttering close at the blissful feel of his skin against yours.
Morpheus rarely shared his realm's business with you. Not for the lack of trust - that’s something you both knew. But he was so certain that you would find it tedious, no matter how many times you told him otherwise. You told him that you want to be there for him, in any way he would have you. Even if all he did that day was respond to correspondence from other realms about things no one actually cared about.
In beautiful and boring. You were there for the long run.
"I wish to know."
His voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you hummed back in question.
"Tell me. What you would do during this... season.”
He wants to know. He wants to know every single thought running through your mind at any given minute. He can never get enough of you. And if there's something that is currently diming your light, he must know.
He must, so he can fix it.
You looked up at him, head still pressed to his shoulder.
He looked like he not only willing, but insisting on sitting here and listening to you ramble on about the days long gone. The ones you still hold dear and close to your heart, without having anyone else to really share them with.
And here's the thing. The one fear you were always too scared to admit, even to yourself.
You were so worried that one day, you would forget to remember. That one day, some of the most precious memories will be forgotten. One day, it will be the last day you think of them, and there will be no one else left to remember them. And they all will be just... gone. Gone for everyone.
Dream was so kind.
Sometimes he was clumsy and stumbling around in your relationship, toying with the line here and there, but you knew him. You knew he would never hurt the ones he holds dear to him intentionally. Not anymore. No matter what anyone said, your Morpheus was the kindest, the most gentle being. At least when it came to you.
You gave him a slightly watery smile and pushed your face deeper into his shoulder.
❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️
The Dreaming was always so delightfully chilly.
It always reminded you of that particular feeling of sleeping wrapped tight in a blanket, and then flipping the pillow over to bury your face in the cool side of it. The fresh wave of chilled comfort tingling down your body soothingly.
But the palace felt different today. The air around you was still just on the side of cool, pleasantly caressing your skin, but the first thing you noticed was that there was something bright behind the frosted windows.
You cocked your head to the side in question.
“What is this?” You muttered to yourself and walked closer to the large archway to look outside, and your lips parted in disbelief.
You never knew The Dreaming to experience seasons, much less extreme weather - apart from the few times you've been told about when Morpheus was going through a hardship in the past. You've been told about raging storms and pelting rain, winds strong enough to crack the stone with no end in sight.
But this looked different. This looked... tranquil.
The snow was falling from up above in small flurries and tangling in big chunks. Twisting and twirling, the light from inside illuminated the sparkling white with each new gust of the wind. The sky above, usually covered in grey clouds, was dark blue, and you could just make out the stars shining from in between the falling gulps of snow.
Down below, the snow was covering the steps of the palace in a thick blanket of white. Stretching as far as she could see, with the only light visible radiating from the windows and stars above. The ground was covered in fluffy mounts, looking soft enough that you resisted the sudden urge to launch yourself into it like you did when you were small.
You were mesmerised. The Dreaming has never looked this beautiful before. It was ethereal.
Your eyes flickered to the glass of the window itself, and your lips parted in surprise when you noticed a very distinct frosting there. You felt your lip wobble at the sudden rush of emotion, and you resisted the urge to trace decorative frost with the tip of your finger, afraid to ruin it.
At a soft thud behind you, you finally noticed that you were no longer alone in the room and turned around. You were greeted by a ridiculous sight of Matthew looking up at you, wearing an absurdly festive red vest. Your hand flew to your mouth, quickly covering the laugh trying to burst out from behind your lips.
Matthew cocked his head to the side, in question or in greeting, you were not completely sure. He shook off his feathers, making his small body look puffy and round, and hopped from one foot to the other. He looked so excited that you were afraid he might burst. Before you could ask him what was happening, a shifting in the corner of your eye pulled your attention away again.
And here he was.
Morpheus was standing in all his regal glory, shoulders pulled back, and head held high. His eyes were already on you, and you could see the now familiar softening of his features as the seconds trickled by.
He was standing just behind the now slightly ajar door, and you caught a glimpse of soft candlelight. Your breath caught in your throat.
"You did this?" You whisper in disbelief, and Morpheus inclines his head once in confirmation. A breath escapes your lungs, but the shock seems to have rooted you in place, and you could feel the tears welling in your eyes.
The moment Morpheus came back from visiting you, he was set on a mission. Long strides took him to the library, where he did not need more than a heartbeat to find your book, having made sure to know where it was at all times from the moment he first saw you. His fingertips traced the spine, reverently following the lines of your name etched into the cover.
He pulled the book from the shelf and hurried to his study. Morpheus hesitated just for a moment, tenderly holding the book in his lap before opening it.
He spent more time there than he should have; he knew that. He couldn't help but savour each and every word, every feeling written in your story, letting them roll over his skin luxuriously, indulging his curiosity and his insatiable hunger for more of you.
He could never get enough of you.
But now, all Morpheus could do was stand frozen, alarmed at the sight of your watery eyes.
Was this not what you wanted? Did he not do this right? Was he not supposed to insert himself?
He visited your dreams, and he knew that he came very close to recreating your memories, but maybe he shouldn't have? He was so careful not to disturb anything or look into memories you have not already shared with him.
But these memories are sacred to you, you hold them dear to your heart and shared them with people you love. Some of those people were not with you anymore, and he knew that you missed them dearly.
With a sudden clarity, Morpheus realised - this can so easily be viewed as an invasion of your privacy, one he had no right to breach, no permission to visit, but he did anyway. No matter his intentions, this was not right. He got so lost and fixated on making things right for you that he didn't even think of the lines he most surely had been crossing and trampling on his way.
Maybe... maybe he should have left the memories undisturbed, untainted by his touch. Nothing good ever came from his meddling anyway.
His attention snapped back to you when he saw your form blur in front of him. A heartbeat later, he left your arms surrounding him, your hold tight and secure.
"Thank you." You whisper in his chest, eyes further filling with tears.
Hearing you softly murmuring against his skin in gratitude, he felt himself shake out the spiral he was rushing towards and relax in relief. He moved his arms, softly resting one around your waist, fingers digging into the soft fabric of the sweater you were wearing. With his other hand, he tangled his fingers in your hair, moving you more securely against him. He bent his head down and breathed you in to try and steady himself.
You're not exactly sure why you're getting so emotional. You took in the sight before you through the blurry eyes and tried to suppress the shivers from wracking your body.
The throne room before you was no longer dauntingly intimidating. If anything, it was welcoming and warm now, cast in the soft yellow glow from all the corners, small twinkling lights and red berries on green branches scattered around.
This was beyond perfect, and you couldn't believe that Dream would actually go out of his way so much for this.
For you.
You could see it in the small details of the decorations that these weren't just pulled out of thin air, or copied from one of the movies you made him sit through.
The particular way paper stars were cut out and hung - the same way your kindergarten teacher made you cut them with those silly, barely cutting anything, scissors that were given to small kids who could barely hold their spoons right.
The fake snow now sprayed on the large windows, frosting them here in the Dreaming. You could remember like yesterday the year you spent Christmas with your roommate, because it was too expensive to travel back home. You weren't particularly close by then, having only known each other for a short while. You were down in the dumps the whole week before, before she came back with a spray can of decorative snow in one hand and a bottle of cheap mulled wine from a corner store in the other. Even if she did not celebrate the holiday herself, she still chose to do this with you.
The faint smell of apple cider. The very same one you would get every year from the small stool next to the market each December. The one that was served way too hot and you would burn your tongue on it the first chance you got, every single time, and then complain the whole day afterwards that you can't taste anything other than cinnamon in the back of your throat.
The little red berries you could just make out decorating the branches of the Christmas tree closest to you. It just dawned on you that this was the same way your favourite auntie decorated hers in the last years she spent with you.
These were pulled right from the deepest crevices of your heart.
These were your precious memories, and they were here, in the Dreaming. Now, they will always be here, in deep fissures and cracks of the stone walls, even when they won't be visible to the naked eye anymore.
You had such a nasty habit of getting overly emotional over kindness. And this was by far the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you.
"Thank you." You whispered again and pressed your lips to the small sliver of skin peeking out from around his shirt collar.
You felt his arms tighten around you, before his lips brushed the crown of your head softly in return.
There were so many emotions inside you, you found it hard to sift through them all. Warmth spread deep from your belly and through your muscles, tingling the tips of your fingers, and you could bet your nose and cheeks were getting bright red. You sniffled at the overwhelming love surrounding you, not able to contain all the happiness under your skin.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a fleeting thought that you really hoped you weren't snotting on his shirt right now.
But at the same time, you just couldn't care about it at this moment. The whole world could be falling apart, and you would not move a centimetre away from him. Partially because you were almost absolutely sure that Morpheus was the only thing currently holding you whole, and without him here, without the whispered reassurances in your ear and his soft adoring words, you might as well disintegrate.
"Thank you, Morpheus."
You were trying to get your emotions under control so you would not start bawling your lungs out at the first closer look at anything, and Morpheus was just happy to hold you. His grip secure and grounding, your erratic heartbeat pumping against his chest.
You could feel his lips brush against the crown of your head in a featherlight touch.
You stood there for a long while, in the soft yellow glow, surrounded by memories so real you could practically touch them. White paper stars, fairy lights and red berries.
Note - We're kicking off 👀 Let me know your thoughts!
Crossposted on AO3 here
Surprisingly, coming back to the Dreaming felt, in a way, comforting. The grey skies she got accustomed to in the weeks she spent here felt familiar and welcoming, her whole body relaxing the moment her feet touched the ground.
Morpheus vanished from her side the moment they reappeared, claiming enough time had been wasted and that he had duties to attend to. He seemed strangely on edge these past couple of days, and she didn’t get the chance to question it before his back was turned, dark cloak swaying behind him. Matthew cawed and leapt off her shoulder, where he had been perched on since they arrived back in London, and followed after his boss.
Dream leaving in such a hurry was a bit disappointing. She wanted to chase after him and get some clarity on what exactly happened to him while they were in the Waking.
But at the same time, she was also relieved to be left alone.
The days they spent together in the Waking, she barely had time by herself, with either Jo or Matthew constantly keeping her company, and Morpheus looming behind. Which she appreciated at the time, but now, finally being back, she was happy to have her time back. Time she desperately needed to get her mind straight.
She signed and turned on her heel to walk out of the Dream Palace.
With the first piece of the key found and tucked away safely with Johanna, she knew she could breathe a bit easier. Without all three pieces, the book could not be unlocked, so now she had just a little bit more breathing space.
There were things that were more pressing at this time, though.
Her powers were barely there. That put a big problem in her plans. With the way she currently was, she wouldn’t stand a chance if someone were to try to interfere in her search. She doubted she could adequately protect herself against a bigger threat, let alone keep the key safe.
The wounds she sustained before she landed in the Dreaming, and the ones she got from the crash, were basically healed, so she should be well on her way to getting back to her full strength. If not already be there. So what was stopping it then? Was it the way she was dropped through this side? Things didn’t go as planned from the moment she stumbled through, but she didn’t feel that much different on this side. She could barely feel her powers back in the waking world, but maybe it worked differently in the Dreaming?
Would that mean it would work on a whole different level in another realm? In another Endless realm?
She couldn’t afford to waste time.
Then, there was Morpheus.
And he was making her head spin.
She watched him and tried to understand his behaviour. The little touches of his whenever he passed by, the way his shoulders would relax just a fraction, eyes softening and losing the hard edge, which was permanently trained on everyone around him, whether he realised that or not.
The way he would grip her arm whenever he was transporting them somewhere else - something she now knew he didn’t actually need to do. She remembered the way he would bend reality around them whenever she was close by, moving them from her room to another place in the Dreaming. When they moved back in the Waking, she noted how he didn’t reach out for Johanna, but would still hold her arm tightly.
Then, there were Johanna’s comments.
She tried not to read too much into that - Johanna seemed like the kind of person who liked to stir the pot and cause trouble by joking around. She really shouldn’t put too much weight on it.
But then again, she had paid attention back in the Waking world.
He was... confusing.
She shook her head. She couldn’t get involved in this or even entertain the thought of it. Not when so much was currently resting on her shoulders.
Not when she knew that, in the end, she would not be able to stay.
She was just getting out of her room the next day when she first noticed it.
In all fairness, the palace rarely felt alive with laughter, but the heavy air that hung around today was stifling enough for her to pay attention. She watched scurrying figures darting between shadows, everyone seemingly so deep in their work that they barely even looked up anymore. She felt like she was constantly in their way until she could safely hide away in the library for the rest of the day.
She saw Lucienne closing the doors behind herself as she exited one of the rooms, a stack of books in her hands.
“Oh, Lucienne!” She jumped in front of the librarian to get her attention.
“My lady.” Lucienne smiled back at her, halting on her way to greet the woman. She smiled in chagrin.
“Please stop calling me that.” She mumbled, feeling her cheeks flush in embarrassment, and Lucienne smiled back, eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Is everything alright?” Lucienne seemed to hesitate for a beat, her polite smile faltering, before she slid back to her professional persona and nodded her head.
“Of course.”
Lucienne felt her fingers tighten around the book she was holding. Truth was, ever since coming back from the Waking World, Lord Morpheus has been in a particular mood. He wasn’t being difficult or cruel, just... on the edge and much easier to anger. She felt like she was walking on eggshells around him, and knew the rest of the realm felt the same.
But he was her Lord. And she was there for him. She wasn’t in a position to discuss his personal feelings or gossip about them to anyone, no matter how much she enjoyed the company of the woman currently blocking her way.
Still, the woman refused to let it go, and Lucienne shifted on her feet before giving in as much as she could.
“The realm has been busy.” Before she could ask what was happening, Lucienne stepped aside and scurried further along without a glance back.
She watched the librarian hurry down the hallway in haste. It would make sense. With Morpheus taking off with her to the Walking World, he must have neglected his duties to the realm and probably came back to a whole load of paperwork and things he needed to catch up on.
Guilt churned in her stomach - it was her fault that he took off, and he didn’t need to sacrifice his own time to help her with her things. She didn’t expect him to go in the first place; she knew how busy he must be!
Her shoulder slumped as she turned her head to watch the heavy doors leading to a study where Morpheus was hiding. Before she could talk herself out of it, she walked up to it and raised her hand to knock. It wouldn’t serve her well if she were to just barge in while he was holding an audience or interrupt a meeting or something.
Before her knuckles could rap on the wood, the door gave way with a slight creak and parted before her.
She walked inside and quickly spotted him. His head was bent over the desk he was sitting behind, long beams of subdued sunlight streaming in through large windows, somehow still keeping the whole room bathed in shadows. A couple of candles were lit to light the room better, but it still held a gloomy, nostalgic atmosphere.
Morpheus barely lifted his head, casting his eyes towards her in silent question. He looked stressed, face tight, and fingers gripping a quill.
She suddenly felt worse for interrupting him when she really had nothing substantial to offer.
“Hi.” She smiled, trying to break the somewhat tense air around them.
Morpheus continued to watch her in intense silence, and she felt the awkwardness around them building.
“Sorry, I know you’re busy. I’ve just seen Lucienne running around and um...” she stumbled, not knowing exactly how to continue. What is she doing here anyway? Was she thinking at all?
“Do you require something?” Dreams’ deep voice shook her out of her spiral, and she snapped her eyes back to him.
“What? Oh, no, I don’t, sorry! You’ve already been so helpful; there’s nothing more I could ask. I just.. well, I’ve seen everyone being really busy recently, and I was wondering if there’s something I could do to help?”
The inky tip of his quill did not touch the paper as it stopped midway, and Morpheus leaned back in his chair, regarding her impassively. He is quick to anger; he knew that well before they met, but even knowing that, he couldn’t suppress the fresh wave of irritation washing over him.
“Help.” He muttered, tasting the word on his tongue as if for the first time. He looked her in the eyes, a smirk dancing on the corner of his lips. “You want to help.” He repeated, as if to make sure he heard her right.
“I know there’s a lot of sensitive information that I should not be privy to, but I can do something if it would help you or Lucienne.” She shrugged and tried smiling back at him again. She felt like she was not doing a good enough job at that, as Morpheus continued to watch her with an emotion she couldn't put her finger on.
Dream felt his fingers tighten around the quill he was still holding.
“You think you can help me.” His tone was biting, and it took her just a second to notice that he was not taking the suggestion in a grateful or even positive way.
Before she could say anything, he continued dismissively.
“I do not require your assistance.” He scoffed softly and turned back to the parchment in front of him, fully intending to continue working in peace. Why was she here? Didn’t she have anything better to do than mess with him again?
She could feel her own defences rising at his cold dismissal. She was well aware that she could not do much, or maybe even nothing at all, for all she knew. But his tone was uncalled for.
“I do not mean to undermine you. I simply offered a hand in whatever you could use a hand in.” She tried to get back on track, but it seemed that he was having none of it.
“My realm does not require a ‘helping hand’.” He bit out the last words, as if they personally offended him. He can take care of his own realm; he did not need anyone’s assistance, let alone someone who crashed in here mere weeks ago, inserting herself in his daily routines and making him all... what exactly?
He wasn’t sure yet. That was one of the questions he was actively working to avoid looking into deeper. And he wasn’t going to start now, with her right in front of him.
She felt her own eyebrow twitch in annoyance, and she clenched her jaw.
“That’s not what I said.” She said, her voice taking a sharp edge that made Morpheus raise his head and look back at her. Was she actually taking a tone with him? Him?
“What makes you think you would be equipped to help, even if I did require assistance?” He threw back, eyes narrowing in challenge.
She refused to take the bait. She took a deep breath to try and drown out the storm brewing inside her and breathed out slowly through her nose, taking the moment to compose herself before she said something she would end up regretting.
“Dream, how can I support you? Not what I think I should do. Tell me what you need.”
He scoffed in indignation and picked up his quill once again to continue his work.
“What I need is for you to stop pestering me and get on with your own work already. This is why you are here in the first place, is it not? Not to meddle in mine. Stay in your place.”
She really wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, or if his voice just took such a patronising edge, but she wasn’t going to wait around to find out.
She stayed silent for a long minute, trying to get her own hot wave of anger under control. When she felt like she could speak again without screaming or snapping, she took a step closer to him. Then another, and another until she was standing right in front of his desk. She laid her hand on the parchment he was writing on, effectively stopping him and making him look at her. She bent her head down slightly to have a better angle to look at him in the eyes and let the corner of her lip twitch up in a mock of a smile.
“Let me make something very clear, Dream of the Endless. I do not care who you are.” She tried her best to keep her voice as emotionless as she could, even with all the feelings currently swirling inside her. “I will not let anyone talk to me like that.”
She didn’t wait for Morpheus to respond. Frankly, she couldn’t care less what else he had to say. She turned on her heel and walked back out of the room without a second glance.
Back in the study, Dream sat stunned. No one talked to him this way. How dare this ungrateful woman come in and just start insulting him? In his own realm?
A fresh wave of anger was coursing through his limbs again, to the point when he felt the muscles in his face contort in outrage.
The soft crunch of the quill in his hand snapped him out of his thoughts, and he glanced down at his hand.
He was going through a lot of quills these past couple of weeks.
She took up running.
There weren’t many things she could do here in the Dreaming right now, and she knew she should get permission from Morpheus before she started destroying parts of his realm if she wanted to actually train. But she wasn’t in much of a mood to go looking for him or even start a conversation with him at this point.
So, running it is.
It did give some clarity and a little more of a break between her research sessions with Lucienne in the library.
Dream stopped coming over to show her around his realm, not that she missed that, but she had some time to kill as a result of it. Not like she needed him in the first place. She was perfectly capable of taking care of her own life, and she should continue to do so, as he so kindly implied when they spoke last. She could still feel resentment burning deep in her belly every time she thought of that interaction, face scrunching up in frustration before she schooled it back.
Some days after, Matthew started joining her.
He would look fidgety and not say much or get too close, but she could always see the black silhouette up above her whenever she ventured further from the palace. With each passing day, he would swoop in closer the further she went. Some mornings, he would already be there, waiting for her by the entrance.
She would sometimes stop and wonder if he was there to keep an eye on her out of distrust.
She hasn’t spoken to Morpheus since their unfortunate conversation back in his study all those days ago. She still felt like she had nothing to apologise for. She offered help when she noticed how tense and busy he has been, and he has been rude and condescending.
So, she occupied her days in the Dreaming whichever way she could think of. She started running in the mornings, trying to get the things she could back. If her powers were taking a longer time to return, and she was certain that at least they were returning, even at a snail’s pace, she would do whatever she could without it. Building stamina should help, right? If she’s getting physically stronger, this would only help in the long run.
She would spend an hour or so each morning running through the Dreaming and coming back, washing up and heading to the library to continue on her research. Which was going a bit slower than what she would have liked. Lucienne still helped, but she was busy running the entirety of Dreaming library all by herself, on top of whatever Morpheus had her do, so she didn’t have that much time to spare anymore.
But now that she had an idea of how to navigate the Waking world and how to look for anomalies, she was fine on her own. Not as great as she could be, but good enough. And good enough not to have to ask for help from Morpheus.
She did have a suspicion, though, that Morpheus was around more often than he led her to believe. She hasn’t really seen him or interacted with him, but she could feel it. She could feel him in the heavy presence of the room she was in. The way shadows bent and twisted, then calmed when she turned her head to look. Sometimes, she could feel someone’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t see anyone whenever she flicked her gaze in that particular direction.
Today was different, though.
When she entered the library, she immediately noticed that she wasn’t alone like she had been for the last couple of days. She saw Lucienne at one of the tables, a stack of books to her side, while she flipped through pages, quickly scanning their contents. Behind her, Dream was facing a shelf covered in heavy tomes. They both looked up when she entered, and she mustered a polite smile and a wave towards their general direction, opting to stay quiet.
Dream was an ass, but Lucienne did not deserve her ire.
She didn’t wait for either of them to reply before she turned to the last table by the window, where her makeshift station had been recently. She flopped on her chair, flipped open the last page she was reading and went right back to work.
On the opposite side of the room, Lucienne watched the woman for a moment longer, a small frown on her face. She could feel the tension in her for days now, but she wasn’t very forthcoming in sharing the details. She did hide it well, and it helped that she could refocus her attention to her work - it made Lucienne’s day a little bit easier.
Dream, on the other hand, was a whole different story. Waves of irritation, restlessness and some other... new energy that Lucienne could not bring herself to name, were rolling off him constantly. More often than not, he was abrupt and irritable, seemingly distracted, and even she had trouble getting the hang of this.
She chanced a quick look at her Lord from above her glasses, and her suspicions were only confirmed.
Dream was watching the woman on the other side of the room in absolute stillness. His hand was still outstretched towards a book on the shelf, but he seemed to have completely forgotten about it. His eyes were fixed on the woman, jaw clenched and seemingly frozen in time.
Lucienne didn’t know exactly what happened between the two of them, just that one day, they both started dragging a heavy weight, sitting tensely and pointedly ignoring each other. Although from the way Dream was behaving for the last weeks, she was pretty sure she could guess what she missed.
She had to give it to the woman for not caving in for so long. It’s been days of Morpheus watching her from the shadows and around the corners, and she knew he was not the most subtle, even if he thought otherwise.
She cleared her throat softly and pretended she did not see anything.
Over the next couple of days, she noticed a pattern. Morpheus seemed to have moved his study to the same reading room once again, where she was researching her work. He would keep to the further side of the vast room, gaze heavy on her whenever she would enter. She continued with her half-hearted waves each morning, but refused to acknowledge him in any other way, even when she could feel him looking at her long after she sat down.
If anyone in the universe thought that Morpheus was petty, they clearly haven’t met her yet.
But then, she started noticing small things.
Her papers from the previous night would be neatly organised the morning she sat back down at her desk. Something she knew wasn’t right, because she wasn’t a very neat person in general. But every morning, she would see meticulous piles of paper organised by location or severity, just to make it easier to prioritise the reports.
She did wonder if it was Lucienne taking pity on her, or if it was all Morpheus’ doing.
Her doubts evaporated the next morning when she watched her mug refill itself with the tea she just finished. The next day, the mug would already be there, seemingly moved right from her room and waiting for her when she sat down. It would keep at a pleasant temperature no matter how long it would stay untouched.
She hasn’t touched the mug, the same one that she created with Morpheus back in her first days here, that miraculously appeared on the side of her desk the first day. She knew she was being petty. But she doubted that he was doing it out of guilt or regret for the hurtful way he spoke. She imagined it being more of an olive branch without really admitting anything.
She just pretended she did not see it for the rest of the day.
It was harder to pretend when the mug was directly on the reports she wanted to start with the following day. She wanted to roll her eyes at this, really. But at the same time, she was also a little bit amused. She felt her lips twitch into a smile despite herself as she lifted the mug off the reports and took a small sip. She felt like the air around her got just a touch lighter.
She looked to her side from the corner of her eye. Morpheus was turned the opposite way, his back straight, holding up a book with one hand, eyes intently trained on the page in front of him. This was the first day since he started working in the study that he wasn’t watching her as she sat down. She bit her lip to suppress her smile.
Their routine continued for the next couple of days, until she felt herself relax again in his presence.
Maybe she should have been more understanding and backed off when he was clearly stressed with whatever he was doing. Not that it was an excuse for him to go off like that, but she could at least understand where it was all coming from.
Not to say that she didn’t want to clock him over the head anymore, but, at least, coming to that realisation did make it a bit easier.
Morpheus, in turn, seemed to have moved his work a couple of desks closer than the day before.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Matthew hopped from one leg to another on the windowsill and shook his feathers out.
“Um, yeah. The boss said that he’s expecting your presence in the dining room.”
She looked at the crow in confusion. She was just getting out of the shower, bathrobe still wrapped tightly around her, wet hair dripping rivulets of water by her bare feet. Matthew, apparently, had no qualms about barging in unannounced. Looks like knocking wasn’t really a thing in the Dreaming.
Silence stretched for a couple of minutes, both of them facing each other in slight awkwardness. Then, she burst out in laughter.
“Oh god, is this his way of inviting someone?” She tried making light of the situation, but her heart was beating harder than it was minutes ago. In all her time staying in the Dreaming, they have never dined together. She was sure that Morpheus did not even need food to stay alive, so this was highly unusual. And slightly suspicious.
What is he up to?
Matthew shuffled on his feet where he was standing. He really wished he was anywhere but here. Since this woman joined them in the Dreaming, Boss was acting in the strangest ways. He wasn’t dumb; he knew what was happening, and this time, it wasn’t just his imagination - neither of the two hid it well. Morpheus, especially, when he used Matthew to look through his eyes every morning, when he was ordered to keep her company on her runs. Which was something he was not entirely comfortable with, but really, he truly believed it was harmless.
But now he has to be some kind of a messenger pigeon?
Dream was trying to act so nonchalant about this dinner that if Matthew were less in tune with Lord Shaper, he would actually believe it was nothing. And there was a small part of him, buried deep down, that really wanted to throw him under the bus and blab it all. To have someone to gossip about this, since Lucienne refused to engage.
But at the end of the day, Matthew’s duty was to protect his boss. Even if by ‘protecting’ this time meant protecting him from a very possible dig to his pride.
“C’mon, just put some clothes on and get down to the dining room.”
She left her room shortly after, hair still damp and heart beating out of rhythm. Not exactly sure what was happening or what she should be expecting, she made her way down where she was instructed the dining room was located.
When she neared the tall, heavy wooden doors, they cracked open on their own before she could reach to touch the surface. Without waiting, she stepped inside quickly and felt a shiver go down her back, her heart skipping a beat.
This was absolutely not what she expected and, at the same time, completely fitting to what she should have expected.
The room was lit with candles on every surface. It cast the vast room in a soft, intimate glow. The flickering from the open flames made the shadows on the walls dance.
She was really unused to seeing any part of the Dreaming bathed in warmth, for it was usually cast in grey clouds or shrouded in dim light. Constantly chased by long, gloomy shadows - that might have been the closest description to it that she could think of.
In the centre of the room stood a sturdy long table that could easily fit twenty people on each side. The chairs had intricate carvings etched into the wood, cushioned by soft fabrics and were clearly fit to host royalty.
It made her feel just a touch uncomfortable. Everything was grandiose, and she was standing there with her hair still dripping water. Out of her depth. Like she stumbled into a room fit for Gods, where she did not belong, not by a long shot.
She turned her head to the side when she felt him appear in the same room.
Morpheus looked regal, as he always did in the Dreaming. Wrapped in a black cloak, shimmering with galaxies hiding the threads of fabric and trailing at his feet. His hair was still wild, but he held his head high, an ancient and divine aura surrounding him.
They looked at each other for a moment longer before Morpheus lifted his hand and flicked his wrist, eyes still locked with hers. She felt something shift behind her and turned to see the long table now overflowing with plates and platters, trays and bowls, full of food she found hard even to start naming. Lavish flower arrangements covered the table and hid any empty inch; rich, deep colours blending in with soft candlelight.
She blinked, stunned and awed at the sheer beauty in front of her. It took her a minute to remember where she was and what was happening - she turned back to Morpheus, who was watching her intensely.
“You invited me for dinner.” She said, voice coming out softer than she thought it would. It sounded more like a whisper, but it carried through the room.
“I wished to dine with company,” Morpheus replied, after a moment of letting her words, finally spoken to him, wash around him.
“You wished to share a meal with me.” She said, not phrasing the sentence as a question, but more of a statement.
He seemed to hesitate to answer before he lifted his chin up in confidence. There really was no point in denying it.
“Yes.” He admitted, and she felt her heart skipping a beat at the proud admission.
“Why?” She continued, refusing to let him off the hook this easily. They haven’t spoken with each other in weeks, and he just drops this on her one evening? With a ten-minute notice, nonetheless? No, she was going to get some answers.
Morpheus felt a muscle in his jaw twitch in annoyance. He was not used to having to explain himself. He rarely even had to do this. He didn’t have company often, and even rarer did he share a meal with anyone. Whenever he did, no one asked questions - they just enjoyed the opportunity that was gifted to them so generously.
He moved past her, making his way towards the end of the table and pulled the heavy chair out with one hand. He turned back to her and waited expectantly for her to follow, which she did after another moment of hesitation.
She was watching him with narrowed eyes the whole way, how his gaze never left her face, and a small smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth when she moved to him. When she neared closer, he moved a step back to let her sit down and pulled her chair back up for her.
“You enjoyed the meals in the Waking World. I-” He cut himself off for an imperceptible moment before continuing. “Dislike the idea of you assuming the quality of... That being the norm. Tamaris is the best at her craft. I wished for you to experience that.” His voice was silky smooth behind her as he spoke, lulling her into a sense of acceptance.
The food before her really did look exceptional.
He moved from behind her, and she watched him walk to the other end of the table and take his own seat.
She felt ridiculous.
With the amount of food in front of her and the distance of the vast table separating them, they might as well have eaten in separate corners of the palace.
She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and watching him in curiosity.
“You may eat.” He announced from the other end of the table, and she frowned.
The emotions flashing through her face made Morpheus hesitate, and he stilled in place. She did not seem to be happy. Was the food not up to her liking? Was it too dark in here, and it was making her uncomfortable? Has he said something to offend her?
“No.” She spoke and continued to watch him, a frown now marring her lips. Dream stiffened in his seat, anger and confusion building up inside him in equal measures.
“No?” He repeated, and she shook her head to confirm that he heard her right. He opened his mouth to speak, lips already curling in anger, when she cut him off.
“I will not share a meal with you if I can’t even see you through the plates and flower arrangements. I’m sure that Tamaris has done an excellent job, as always, and I’m grateful, but this is just too much. Morpheus, I can’t even see you properly with you sitting so far away.” She pinched the bridge of her nose as she spoke.
This truly was ridiculous. The amount of food could feed a small village - why in the world would she need all of this?
Morpheus looked at the table covered in trays, as if the thought of such excess being anything but favourable was foreign to him. This is not right. He couldn’t understand how he had overstepped like this before they even started.
“You wish to leave.” He muttered, but his voice carried across the room. His fingers tightened around the armrests, and he refused to look back up at her, a muscle in his jaw flexing in anger.
“No.” He heard her speak and frowned in confusion. Didn’t she just announce that he displeased her? “I would like to share a meal with you.” He heard a smile in her voice and lifted his eyes to watch her from across the table in confusion.
“I do not-”
“Morpheus, just take a plate of food and sit next to me.” Her voice came off a bit harsher than she expected in the echoey room, and she softened it with a smile that quickly followed. “Please?”
Silence engulfed them, but this time, she bathed in tension radiating from him. He seemed on edge, but at the same time, trying to wrap his head around her words so hard. Like what she was saying was not making any sense in that brain of his.
She tried suppressing the smile, trying to crawl over her lips, in fear that he would think she was making fun of him.
“Very well.” He muttered finally, and before she could blink, the overflowing table was cleared. He still sat at the far end of the table, and she doubted he would have it in him to get up and come closer. So, she decided to be merciful for once and spare him.
The wooden chair screeched against the floor as she got up and walked to him. He was watching her intensely, eyes tracing every step before she was standing right in front of him. His head lifted, still locked on her face.
She sat next to him, smiled and turned to the food in front of her. He kept still, seemingly in a trance.
She took a bite and chewed slowly. Partially just to spare him the awkwardness he seemed to be currently drowning in, and partially because, at this point, she was truly starving.
Flavours burst on her tongue, and she closed her eyes in satisfaction - there were no words to describe it. She knew all her meals were prepared by Tamaris while she was staying in the Dreaming, but it seems like this time, she pulled no stops. Tamaris was really otherworldly, and she made a mental note to herself to try and seek her out when she next got the chance.
Morpheus seemed to relax after she took another bite, and a moment later she heard a soft scrape of a fork against porcelain next to her.
“I wished to express my gratitude.” He spoke later, and she lifted her head up. He kept surprising her today, and she watched him in question. He hesitated for a beat before continuing.
“You have tried to help-”
“And you were disrespectful.” She interrupted him, irritation lacing her words at his reminder of their last conversation. She was still not over her initial anger and wanted to make it clear to him as well.
Dream was watching her in silence before continuing.
“I should not have been.” He admitted, and she lifted an eyebrow back at him.
“Yes, you shouldn’t have been.” She agreed. A couple of beats later, she sighed deeply and continued. “Your apology is accepted.”
Morpheus felt his lips twitch in amusement, and he opened his mouth to reply, to point out that he never actually said the words, but closed it again, having thought better of it.
“So, is this an apology dinner?” She continued, not letting the silence settle. He wasn’t very talkative in general, so she had to take the opportunity to speak with him whenever she could.
Morpheus looked at her for a long time before announcing.
“I wish to know you.”
She tried her best to let the bite she took before he started speaking slide down her throat without choking on it.
“Alright.” She muttered and reached for the glass of wine in front of her, hoping to wash down the irritating feeling at the back of her throat before she started coughing her lungs out.
From the way she hunched in on herself, Dream knew she was not feeling comfortable. He sent her a questioning look, to which she sighed and leaned back in her chair.
“It’s fine. Just feel like I’m stepping into an interrogation.” She smiled, trying to play it off like a joke, but she knew her grimace did not sell it well. “How about this. You ask a question that I will answer. But in return, I will ask as well.” She suggested, half joking.
He pondered it for just a moment before answering.
“Very well.”
She tried to hide her surprise. He really was keeping her on her toes today. She felt her heart skip a beat at the possibility of Morpheus opening up, even if just a little.
“Alright. Go ahead, ask me.” He smirked at her order and decided to humour her.
“What did you do before you came here?”
“You mean before I started chasing that damned key?” She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair, getting comfortable.
They sat there for what felt like hours. Or maybe only minutes passed. It was hard to tell in the Dreaming, but then again, maybe it was the company that made the time pass differently. They sat surrounded by half-eaten plates of food and tall glasses of rich red wine, flickering candles casting moving shadows on the walls.
Morpheus felt a strange wave of satisfaction wash through him with every bite and sip she took.
She spoke about her life before the fights and loss and all the death that ended up surrounding her. She told him a little about her childhood and fond memories she could still remember, how she could still recall how her father flipped pancakes in the air, and it would seem like the coolest thing ever to her young eyes. She told him that she had a pet bunny when she was small, and that a neighbour kid tried to kick it once, and she broke his nose. She told him that she used to study history and ancient languages, but she never got to graduate. She pointedly avoided any topics further in time after that, and he seemed to realise that quickly.
Morpheus, kindly, did not push further on the subjects she was clearly uncomfortable with. Maybe in the future, though. He enjoyed listening to her.
In return, she asked him simple questions that she hoped would keep him in the conversation and not behind his walls.
She learned that he enjoyed a simple omelette the most out of all the foods Tamaris had made for him, which was definitely not an answer she expected. He shared that he enjoyed visiting the dreams of those who create - be it writing, music, dance or any other type of art - he said that their dreams are the most vivid and called out to him the most. She learned that he has a dear friend back in the Waking World, whom he visits sometimes. He also adamantly refused to give her an answer when she asked if he had a favourite nightmare, insisting that he does not pick favourites between subjects, ever, to which she just rolled her eyes.
“Are you close to your siblings?” She asked as she put the glass back on the table. The wine was giving her more courage to ask than she expected, but she still held her breath waiting for an answer.
“Perhaps.” He paused there, but she once again would not take just that for an answer, and he quickly folded. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “I would like to think I am with some. I wish I were with a few more.”
She wondered who he meant when he said he would like to be closer to some of them. She snapped out of her musings when she heard him echo her question back to her and smiled sadly at him.
“I don’t have any living siblings anymore.” She looked back down at her lap with a wry smile. It really wouldn’t do well if she started getting sentimental over something like that, but wine usually had that effect on her. She really didn’t think they had that kind of relationship, though. Although what kind of relationship they had was a whole different question. These last couple of days have raised more questions than she cared for.
“Were you?” His voice cut through her thoughts, and she took a moment to ponder it. She had a lot of regrets that she carried for years, and this was easily one of them.
“Not as close as I should have been.”
She didn’t feel like expanding on that, and he didn’t push. She opted for changing the subject.
“Tell me something you’re not good at.”
She was greeted by utter silence. She looked up to see him watching her with an impassive expression, and she barely suppressed a laugh.
“Oh, c'mon! Everyone is not good at something. I, for example, am absolutely horrendous at orientation. You could walk me in an empty field, spin me around three times, and I would not find my way out anymore.” She shrugged her shoulders at him, grinning in amusement, and his lips tilted in a soft smile in return.
“I am good at what concerns me.” He declared.
“Just humour me.” She rolled her eyes, and Morpheus felt a small smile twitch on his lips again.
“Very well.” He decided, feeling unusually light in her company. He paused for a long while, long enough for her to start thinking that he had changed his mind and wouldn’t be entertaining her anymore. “I do not concern myself with mortal mechanics.”
It took her a moment to catch on before she burst into laughter.
“You mean you-” she cut herself off with another bout of laughter at the thought. “Are you saying that you don’t understand technology in the Waking World?”
She wasn’t from that world either, in all fairness, so it’s not like she had much of a leg to stand on. But the technology was very similar to what they had back home, so much so that she didn’t even get the chance to concern herself with the ‘hows’ of it all.
Morpheus, in turn, suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. It’s not like he was free to roam and keep up with the mortal world in the last hundred years or so. Right at the time when the whole world seemed to have exploded with inventions. And still, there was still so much he needed to catch up on - and this just wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list.
“But have you tried, though? Something small, maybe - Jo had that small device she carried everywhere that she used to search for information. That didn’t look too complicated?” She tried prying for more information and was rewarded with a barely-there tensing of his shoulders.
“Oh, you tried! You tried, didn’t you? C'mon, tell me!” She was ready to negotiate with him and offer an embarrassing story of her own in return when he opened his mouth and mumbled, words barely leaving his lips.
“I could not use it.”
That was more than enough for her to burst out in laughter again. It’s been a while since she laughed so carefree, and the mere image of Morpheus holding the small device, letting it hang from the tips of his fingers, with a confused look on his face, combined with the wine she already consumed, was more than enough to send her gasping again.
Morpheus was far from entertained. He did not enjoy being made fun of, and he was already regretting the words he spoke. He was getting ready to scold her for her disrespect when he looked back at her and stopped.
She was trying to cover her smile with her hand, soft giggles still escaping from between her fingers. Her eyes were crinkled in amusement, cheeks flushed, and he watched her use her other hand to try and wipe the moisture from under her eyelashes.
She looked at ease. Finally, after weeks of tense silence and unspoken words, she looked like she finally felt happy. Happy to be in his presence. He couldn’t bring himself to scold her for this. He felt a soft smile return to his face as he listened to her for a couple more minutes while she tried to settle herself.
“Oh, this was so good.” She giggled and shook her head in amusement. “Olethros would fall over if he ever knew.” She muttered under her breath, and not a second later, her fork clattered to the table as she covered her mouth with her hand, all traces of humour draining out of her in a heartbeat.
But the damage was already done.
heh 👀
Story tag list
@ladyhesperus @leah-halliwell92 @iamempty13 @sysibat-blog @bontensbabygirl @1r1s-23
Patiently waiting for a new chapter of Fracture over here...💙
How are you doing? How's life?😊
Hii nonnie 💚
Seems like life has been trying very hard to keep me from actually writing, so my posting schedule got all messed up. I'm so sorry and thank you for sticking around!
I hope you're doing well??
Good news though! I'm just editing the next chapter tonight, so it should be all ready to be posted tomorrow. 💕
In the meantime, a tiny sneak peak...
“That’s not what I said.” She said, her voice taking a sharp edge that made Morpheus raise his head and look back at her. Was she actually taking a tone with him? Him?
“What makes you think you would be equipped to help, even if I did require assistance?” He threw back, eyes narrowing in challenge.
She refused to take the bait. She took a deep breath to try and drown out the storm brewing inside her and breathed out slowly through her nose, taking the moment to compose herself before she said something she would end up regretting.
“Dream, how can I support you? Not what I think I should do. Tell me what you need.”
He scoffed in indignation and picked up his quill once again to continue his work.
“What I need is for you to stop pestering me and get on with your own work already. This is why you are here in the first place, is it not? Not to meddle in mine. Stay in your place.”
She really wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, or if his voice just took such a patronising edge, but she wasn’t going to wait around to find out.
She stayed silent for a long minute, trying to get her own hot wave of anger under control. When she felt like she could speak again without screaming or snapping, she took a step closer to him. Then another, and another until she was standing right in front of his desk. She laid her hand on the parchment he was writing on, effectively stopping him and making him look at her. She bent her head down slightly to have a better angle to look at him in the eyes and let the corner of her lip twitch up in a mock of a smile.
Warnings - injuries and panic attack depictions - please read at your own discretion.
Words - 7,359 - settle in lol
Note - Thanks, everyone, for sticking around! Life has been crazy for the last couple of weeks, but we should be back to weekly updates moving forward! Let me know what you think and give me your theories!
Cross-posted on AO3
“Hi, trouble.”
An amused voice echoed through the small bathroom of the coffee shop she was currently occupying. The mirror above the sink flashed with shadows, obscured and blurry, but she should recognise him even this distorted. She could hear the unmistakable relief in his voice, even as he tried to mask it with light humour. “Nice to hear from you again.”
“Oh, thank fuck...” she heaved a sigh, all but collapsing back on the closed toilet seat. She raked her hands through her hair, a smile breaking out. “I was so afraid this won’t work.”
“I wasn’t sure either. Didn’t exactly have time to test it before." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Haven’t heard from you in weeks, was starting to think the worst...” She could feel the slight undercurrent of worry in his voice. Her insides warmed at that, and she suppressed a small knowing smile.
“Yeah, well... things didn’t really go as planned.” She paused, cringing internally and rubbed the side of her forehead with her palm before continuing. “I crashed in the Dreaming.”
There was a long pause from the other side before she heard a soft curse. She could see the rustling from his side of the mirror and continued, before this could spiral out of control.
“It’s not that bad, actually. You know, he’s much easier to work with than you led me to believe.” She said, feeling a sudden urge to defend Morpheus.
She heard an incredulous scoff and crossed her arms across her chest in defence.
“I’m serious. I’m staying in Dreaming with him, and he promised to help me find all the pieces.” That seemed to have stopped his restless fidgeting, and he stilled.
“I’m sorry, pieces? What pieces?”
“Yeah.” She sighed again, suddenly wanting to lie down on the floor in helplessness. But she was hiding in a public toilet, so touching the ground was out of the question. She settled for putting her head in her hands, leaning her elbows on her knees.
“The key broke when it came through on this side. Three flashes, so we’re thinking three pieces right now, but it’s not easy to locate them. Took us this long to find the first one. We’re in the Waking World to collect it now, so I will know more later. Hopefully.”
“And Morpheus is...?”
She wasn’t exactly sure where he was, if she’s honest.
“He’s not around right now. I’m with a mortal called Johanna Constantine. She is helping with the collection.”
She could see him opening his mouth to reprimand her for involving people she should not have, especially mortals, so she put a hand out to stop the incoming tirade. She knew what she was doing, for the most part anyway. There was no better way to go around this, not yet at least. And she was here alone, the only one knowing the full picture and the whole story. He really had no say in how she handled things when he wasn’t even here in the first place.
He sighed in a silent agreement to drop the subject for the moment, and they lapsed into a moment of quiet. There’s so much they needed to talk about, but they were pressed for time. She counted herself lucky to have managed to sneak out long enough as it was.
She could see his hand lift up to scratch at his stubble.
“Are you okay?” He asked, and her lips twitched.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’ve got it under control.” She survived worse than this, and not once.
“You’re injured?”
“I’ve had some help.” She didn’t need to elaborate further for him to understand. He remained silent, not knowing how to continue the conversation. She didn’t seem to be in the mood to listen to his scoldings or doubts, and, at the end of the day, he knew she already had plenty on her plate. He didn’t want to add to her worries with his opinions.
“I need to go. Any longer and it’ll start looking suspicious.” She didn’t know how long it would take for Matthew to track her down.
She hoped she would be able to visit the Waking more after this. It would have been impossible to reach back out to him if she were stuck in the Dreaming all the time - after all, Morpheus would know the moment she did. And that wouldn’t go down too well for any of them.
His shoulders slumped, and he nodded. He smiled at her warmly, and she felt herself mirroring the gesture.
“I trust you, my little trouble.” He said, finally, his voice soft. “If you tell me that you’ve got this, then you’ve got this. I know you do.”
They stood in silence for a bit longer, heavy air keeping them both questioning things. She knew she didn’t have much time, so she gave him a stiff nod and reached for her locket on the side of the sink, flipping it closed and breaking the connection.
She attached it back to the silver chain on her neck and unlocked the door to leave.
She grabbed the two coffees from the counter where the barista had left them for her, and left the shop, only to spot a black raven hopping on the pavement right in front. She smiled at Matthew and moved to hold both coffees in one hand, using the other to reach into her coat pocket.
Matthew tilted his little head, looking up at her.
“That took a while.” He muttered, and her hand froze in her pocket. She lifted an eyebrow back at him and narrowed her eyes.
“Are you timing my bathroom breaks now, bird?” Her voice came out cold, and it carried a promise of swift retribution for even a word said wrong.
Matthew squeaked, as if the question took him off guard, and he started hopping from one leg to the other in mild panic.
“T-that’s not what I meant! I’m not here just to keep you in a good mood and well entertained, you know - I’m important! If something were to happen-” Her smile widened across her face, and she bent down to be more at eye level with the raven, cutting him off.
“Aw! Were you going to send a rescue party to search for me?”
Her mood swings were giving him whiplash. He liked the girl, he really did, but she was good at saying things without saying anything at the same time, and it kept him on his toes constantly. Metaphorical ones.
“I am the rescue party!” Matthew puffed his chest and flapped his wings in indignation, and she laughed at his antics. She put the coffees down on the pavement and opened the small packet of almonds she grabbed from her pocket. She wasn’t exactly sure what ravens ate, or even if Matthew ate in general, but that was the best she could do in there.
She took an almond and put it next to his beak as a peace offering. They stared at each other in a silent standoff, one still with a smile on her face, while Matthew looked up in annoyance. He opened his beak after a couple of seconds, and she did not wait to find out if it was to continue his tirade - she stuffed the almond in his beak, and he recoiled in shock.
They stood there in silence for a second longer before Matthew shook his head and started eating. He still watched her with slight suspicion, but hopped up on her shoulder when she dangled the bag with the remaining nuts inside as a promise.
“This conversation is not over.” He cawed next to her ear, and she stuffed another almond in his beak, in hopes she could distract him long enough to avoid an interrogation.
“You done sulking?” Johanna didn’t need to turn around to know that she was no longer alone in the room. She smirked when the air around her turned heavier with chill and continued writing in her notebook without missing a beat.
He didn’t bother responding. Why would he? He had nothing to say to this woman.
Johanna smirked to herself at his lack of reply and turned her head to look at him over her shoulder.
“You know, I always imagined you to be a little bit more subtle.” She looked him up and down, took a couple of steps closer and continued. “That, with all the years you’ve been around, you would be... How should I say this? Better at it?”
“Do not push your luck, Constantine. You are here for a job, are you not?”
“As I said before, I’m a professional, my lord.” She put enough emphasis on his title to make it obvious that she did not mean to address him with the respect he was so used to.
Johanna looked like she was ready to say something else when her eyes flickered behind him, and her smile widened.
“Oh, you are a God sent!” She exclaimed and pushed away to reach behind him. He turned around to see the two women exchanging paper cups, excitedly chittering about the contents.
“Oh, this is amazing.” His newest companion exclaimed in happiness, Johanna nodding along, and he frowned.
He could smell the burnt, acidic coffee from here, and he was well aware that coffee is not supposed to smell like this. Whatever they were drinking was poor quality, to say the least.
‘Why would she purchase that? And why is she happy about it?’
He’s not one to consume food or drinks, for he has no need for it. He does enjoy indulging every once in a while, though. The different spices, bringing unique flavours and combinations, smells enriching the atmosphere itself, making it an experience, to say the least. A luxury and an indulgence. Tamaris was an artist in her own craft.
Because of that, he knew his taste was sophisticated. He's been around long enough to know what a good thing was. He also knew that whatever they were drinking there was nowhere close to that.
What he has in the dreaming is leaps and bounds better than what that abomination is.
He made a mental note to himself to show her this once they’re back.
“Um, boss? You good?”
He startled from his thoughts when he heard Matthew address him from the window next to him. Morpheus looked at his raven in acknowledgement before turning back.
“Let us not waste any more time.” His voice carried around them and filled the crevices in the room, making it impossible to ignore the demand there.
He didn’t wait for anyone to respond before walking past the two women and out the door.
Dream didn’t get to go too far before he felt someone grab the sleeve of his coat. He halted on his way, head tilting to the side, only to lock with a very concerned pair. He felt his shoulders loosen a bit when he noticed that Johanna did not follow them out. At least not yet.
“Are you okay?” It took Morpheus a moment to recognise the emotion in her face. He couldn’t remember very well the last time someone looked at him with concern for his well-being. He wasn’t really sure he enjoyed this.
“I am well.” He responded, needing her not to be concerned anymore. He wasn’t comfortable with this emotion on her face. It was making something strange twist inside him.
“You ran out of the room earlier, what happened?” Morpheus scowled at her - he did not run away. How dare she even think that he would do such a thing?
“I was needed elsewhere. I have duties to attend to.” He huffed and moved to remove her hand from his sleeve.
She frowned at him, not really believing his version of events. But she could also see how this conversation was making him uncomfortable. He clearly wasn’t too keen on talking about it, and it’s not like they were close to each other for there to be an unspoken sort of connection.
She opted for a different approach, in hopes it would get them somewhere.
“Your friends been really sweet. She’s helping a lot, and I’m grateful." She started and reached out for his coat once again when his face twisted in displeasure. She was sure he was about to start walking again. "You’ve been an even bigger help to me for a long time now, though. And I trust you. And I can see that you’re not comfortable. If you think this is not right, then we change directions.” She looked him straight in the eyes to convey that she absolutely meant what she said.
Johanna’s great - she’s clever, witty and clearly knew what she was doing. She had an attitude, but she’s been sweet and helpful with her. She couldn’t feel anything malicious from Jo, and she could always trust her gut.
But Morpheus is Morpheus. She might not have known him personally for very long, but she knew of him. Whether she wanted to or not, she trusted him, and he was on her side in this mission of hers. And he’s known Johanna from before - maybe there was something she’s not seeing or considering?
Dream looked at her for a long while, not saying a word. His gaze was intense, as if he was trying to look right through her and into her soul. Peel off the layers and masks and comforting words to find the real meaning, the truth. What she’s not saying. What she’s leaving hidden behind walls and pretences. What was her angle?
She intrigued him.
Before he could say anything, though, he noticed Johanna making her way towards them, with Matthew flying over not too far behind.
Dream stepped back from her, putting some much-needed distance between them, and she let go of his coat.
“Morpheus.” She muttered, her voice steely, and he fought the urge to stiffen.
She refused to let this go. She needed to know if there was a problem. And she needed to know that before they went off to most likely face a demon.
“You need not worry.” She heard him reply, and she looked back at him, unconvinced. But he was clearly done talking about this. “We must depart at once. Enough time has been wasted.”
She watched him walk further down the road, his raven close by, until she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders. Johanna pulled her forward to follow after the broody lord.
“Don’t worry about him, he’s fine. He’s just like that sometimes, but he means well. You’ll see.”
All things considered, this could have gone way worse than it did.
It took them a while to reach the remote crater lake from the small village where they rented the hotel room in. The dry, biting wind blew all around them, and she wrapped the scarf that she found on her bed back in the Dreaming the day before they left, tighter around herself. It wasn’t much use, as she could feel the wind biting through her pants and seeping into the muscles, numbing them. Thankfully, the waterfall that was supposed to be somewhere around here was frozen; otherwise, it would only add to the cold.
She didn’t have much trouble with cold - she liked it better than heat, that’s for sure. But this was a bit excessive.
The smell hit her first - the burning metal so strong she could feel it in the back of her throat. Before she could realise what was happening, the fog started expanding and solidifying, wrapping around each rock and crater, rolling towards them. So slow and seamless that she wouldn’t have realised what was happening if she wasn’t paying attention. But fog thickened quickly, and before she knew it, she could barely see what was around her.
She stood frozen in her place, not daring to take a step further without knowing more. She tried looking for any movement in the fog, casting shadows, but it was eerily silent and still. She felt like the time itself had stopped around her.
Before she could start panicking, she felt a hand on the small of her back, and a relieved breath of air left her lungs instantly with the familiarity of the gesture. She turned to see Morpheus standing close, eyes up ahead.
“We are being greeted.” He said, then glanced down at her when he noticed how tense she still stood. “I will not allow harm to come to you.”
She felt his fingers at her back dig deeper into her coat, and she was grateful for the support he was trying to convey.
“Are demons always this... extreme?” She didn’t exactly have much experience dealing with them.
Morpheus felt the corner of his lips twitch in amusement.
“Some.” He muttered, then turned sharply to the side, as if seeing something. A monstrous voice from somewhere behind the fog followed.
“You finally came.” The voice sent shivers down her spine, and she reached towards the dagger she had stashed on her side on reflex. It sounded like the one speaking was simultaneously underwater and deep in a well of sorts. Gurgly and echoey at the same time.
Before long, a dark shape started forming, and Morpheus stood straighter. A face, painted in black and yellow, broke through the fog. The creature stood tall and imposing, black eyes round and unblinking. She cast her eyes down, assessing it from head to toe, only to stumble when her eyes caught on its feet. It looks like one of the creature's feet was replaced by an obsidian mirror, of all things.
Morpheus’ body moved a fraction in front of her by instinct.
“It is no demon.”
She looked back at him in alarm. What did he mean it was not a demon? He clearly looked like one; all the signs that Johanna told her to look out for were there. What is it if not a demon? And did it mean that they will have to retreat now? She couldn’t do that!
“Ah, look at that! Came out all by yourself, didn’t even need to search for you or anything.” Johanna’s voice broke through, and she cursed herself momentarily. She forgot the occultist was there, for just a second. And she was mortal. If this was not a demon, they were wildly unprepared. From the way Morpheus kept his eyes on the thing, she would also take a guess and say that they were also in danger.
The creature cocked its head to the side, as if intrigued by Johanna. It stood still before twisting and bending, fog wrapping around like tendrils and disappearing the moment later. It grinned - wide and sinister.
“Johan-” she started to warn her, before Morpheus’s deep and commanding voice cut through.
“I greet you, Tezcatlipoca.”
The name Dream addressed the creature in front of them by did not ring any bells to her. She skimmed through Johanna’s little book on demons and all things supernatural, but she couldn’t remember reading about this.
“Lord Shaper himself. I am honoured.” It was hard to understand the exact tone of the creature’s voice when he sounded so distorted, so she wasn’t sure how much irony was in that sentence, or if he was actually sincere. She imagined all creatures to hold a certain amount of healthy respect for Dream Lord, but demons weren’t exactly known for that. Even if this one in front of them wasn’t exactly a demon.
“Less talking, I’m freezing my ass off. Now that we’re done with formalities, how about you hand us a you-know-what, and I promise I’ll be gentle when I send you back to hell?” Ballsy. If there’s one thing she could say about Johanna is that she barely had any self-preservation instincts.
“Impudent mortals. But they’re so small and break so easily.” Creature hissed, and Morpheus tensed. Nothing was going according to plan. They weren’t facing a demon; they were standing against something much worse.
“Tezcatlipoca is no mere demon, Constantine. You are standing in front of an old Aztec trickster, a creator god.” He announced loud enough for the women to hear, hoping they were both smart enough to understand what it meant. They couldn’t continue with what they originally planned. They needed to fall back and rethink; they can’t just charge into this with no knowledge and no real plan.
The god in front of them seemed pleased to be recognised by the Dream of the Endless, as it lifted its chin up proudly and stood tall.
“Demon, not demon. I really couldn’t be arsed. You’re still going back to hell.” Johanna shrugged and reached behind her for her bag.
Morpheus resisted the urge to roll his eyes in exasperation. What would she not understand? They were up against a god - she couldn’t send a god to hell. He really thought she was smarter than that.
The creature did not appreciate being talked like that by a mere mortal - a frown crossed its face and it advanced closer. Fog was rolling in waves from the obsidian mirror and, before long, it wrapped in tendrils around Johanna.
Johanna looked down in disgust at her legs and, without missing a beat, started speaking an incantation. If they really were up against a god and not a demon, she knew she stood no chance in reality. But she could do some damage before she’s out.
The trickster seemed to find Johanna amusing. It let her speak a couple more lines of her incantation before it grew tired, then frustrated at her audacity. The fog from its mirror shifted and started falling out in thicker waves. Before Johanna knew what happened, she felt herself being lifted in the air and flung to the side.
She broke her fall the best she could, but the impact still knocked the wind out of her. She tried getting up to her feet, but her head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. She felt her hands tremble from the fall when she leaned on them, her legs refusing to cooperate like she needed them to.
Morpheus frowned, and the shadows around his feet twisted in displeasure. He knew Johanna was just stunned, for he softened her fall. But he also viewed her as a liability right now, and he needed her to stay where she was.
Before the god could advance further towards the occultist, he spoke.
“You are in possession of something I require.”
The trickster turned back to look at Dream, losing all interest in Johanna. They stood in silence for a while, regarding each other, trying to decide which way to step forward.
“Ah, I see. Perhaps we could come to a mutually beneficial agreement.” Tezcatlipoca finally announced, straightening to its full height.
“Perhaps.” Morpheus muttered. He will listen to the god and hear what it wants. He will do what he reasonably can in the situation, but if the demand is too high, he will just take what he needs. Morpheus knew Matthew was just circling above and would be able to be a good distraction if it came to that.
His eyes flickered to the side to catch another movement, and he felt dread rippling through him.
What is it with these women having a death wish? If she really wanted to meet his sister so badly, there were easier ways to do it.
She used the god's blind spot to run behind him, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Which was a bit of a challenge given that she could barely see where she was stepping. Thankfully, there was no crunching snow under her feet.
She neared from behind it and reached for the dagger she secured to her side. She noticed the trickster moving back and forth in the area when it advanced on Johanna or talked to Morpheus, but it was subconsciously coming back to around this place. It means that the important piece it was protecting was here somewhere, and it was unwilling to stray further. She just had to find it quickly, grab it and get everyone out of there. There was no need for deals and debts or anything like that. The key did not belong to Tezcatlipoca; he had no claim to it in the first place.
“Who are you, little one?”
She froze at the voice spoken right next to her. She didn’t even notice the creature move before it was right beside her. She stood up tall, her hand still at her hip and gripping the hilt of the dagger.
Just then, she noticed it. The small leather pouch, firmly attached to the creature’s side, leather engraved with a rune of some kind. This is it - she could feel it.
“You have something of mine. I intend to take it back.” She voiced, doing all she could to make sure her voice did not tremble. How exactly was she supposed to take it back? An idea struck her. She glanced back at Morpheus, who seemed to be standing frozen. She needed him to be a distraction. She needed him to keep talking - why did he stop talking?
She couldn’t really relay the message clearly, though, as Dream wasn’t close enough for her to speak. Before she could take a step back and move closer to him, she felt cold fingers wrap around her arm, keeping her in place. It was strange to know that the god was cold to the touch, given that they were currently somewhere in West Iceland and she was wearing more layers than she cared to count. Maybe it was just an instinctual thing?
She reacted by instinct. Her hand, not grasping the dagger, rose up, and she felt a familiar energy trickle up her skin. Crimson coloured haze rolled up her forearm, curling around her fingertips like smoke.
But it was wrong. Her eyes were watching the crimson tendrils in shocked confusion. This cannot be happening. What happened to her power?
“I know who you are.” A voice spoke right beside her, and she looked up to see a grin on its face widen, taking a sinister edge. She didn’t wait anymore. She reeled her hand back and pulled from what power she could still feel deep inside her. It was significantly less than what she would have liked or hoped for, but it was something. She watched the god stumble back from the impact, quickly lifting its head back up to glare at her.
Before she knew what happened, it struck back. It moved fast, and she could only prepare for the impact, but was surprised when she felt a sharp pain blooming on her arm instead. She really didn’t expect a god to take lightly to being attacked, so she did wonder why it went for a non-lethal hit. One that would be easy to patch up.
It was not to say that the strike was gentle, for she felt her arm pulsing and warmth trickling down from beneath the layers of clothing she was wearing. It was deep, but not nearly as deep as it should have been.
The god seemed to have realised that as well, and they both looked confused for a beat before the trickster turned behind himself to lock eyes with the Dream.
Morpheus looked beyond furious.
“You have been offered a chance at peace. But you chose to strike instead. You will not be offered a second chance.” His voice was dark and gravely, and she felt an unease wrap around her throat. “You will come to regret your choices.”
She watched as the reality itself bent around them. Fog splintered like it was glass, shards of it curving and twisting on itself. Sharp shards of fog spun and reflected the little light it seemed to catch, and she realised they were working as mirrors.
Tezcatlipoca roared in dissatisfaction and made a move to lung forward, before its gaze fixated on one of the shards in front of it. The god stopped, not making a sound, eyes focused on whatever it was seeing in the reflection. It tilted its head to the side, and the mirror at its feet cracked.
The moment a crack rang through, the fog still surrounding them stilled, and it took only a second more before it started clearing up. She could finally see the ground further up ahead, as well as the frozen waterfall to their side. Johanna was leaning against a boulder, seemingly stunned, but slowly coming back to herself.
Morpheus stood imposing, face still contorted in fury, fists clenched at his sides.
She looked around, but could not see the god anywhere around them anymore. Just something sizzling on the ground where it once stood.
“What were you thinking?” She snapped her head back to the voice that growled next to her. Morpheus was standing so much closer than he was a moment ago and she didn't even realise he had moved. So close that his coat was brushing against her jacket, and he was leaning down to look at her. Her eyes locked with Morpheus’s cold ones - she hasn’t seen him this enraged yet. She stumbled back in shock.
“W-what… What was I thinking?” She stuttered from shock before it finally caught up to her. “What do you mean, what was I thinking? I’m doing what I’m supposed to do.” She was looking at him in disbelief. What exactly was so hard to understand there?
“Attacking an ancient god with barely any strength is what you are supposed to do?” He repeated incredulously, and she flinched at the dig. But she refused to let him belittle her and her strength.
“Did it look to you that I knew my powers weren’t there? Did it look like it went according to my plan?”
“It looked like you were not thinking. Tezcatlipoca already attacked Constantine, and you rush in with barely a thought to do, what? Enlighten me.” His lips were twisting into a snarl, and he felt the hot, blinding anger running up his body.
“It was distracted. I needed you to keep him distracted, and I would have sneaked in from behind and taken what I needed.”
“You can not be serious.” He looked incredulous, cold anger mixing with disbelief.
She straightened her spine and looked to the side, trying to get her own anger under control.
“The original plan wasn’t gonna work anymore. We weren’t going to be able to send him to hell, because he does not belong in hell in the first place. Johanna was injured. I wasn’t going to let you or anyone else, for that matter, negotiate and stay in debt for something that is not your problem. So I adapted.” She hissed the last words through her teeth, and Morpheus felt his jaw slacken.
She cannot be serious right now. He was there. He was Dream of the Endless. He was going to take care of it - that is why he travelled with them. Did he not vow to help retrieve the pieces she was looking for? Did he not promise to her that he will keep her away from harm?
“If you had a better plan in mind, you could have shared.” She wasn’t going to stand on the sidelines and let him handle things. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, and she didn’t need someone else to do it for her. She’s done it for a long time, just fine.
She ignored the treacherous thought trying to resurface that she wasn’t really doing that well.
She moved past him, before he could say another word, and walked to where the piece of key was still sizzling on the ground.
A sense of relief washed through her. They found it. It was in a relatively good state still, and they had it in their hands, finally.
This was quickly followed by a feeling of helplessness. The fact that it was a piece of what she was looking for only proved that there were at least 2 more that she would need to find. And right now, there weren’t many leads for that, especially with the god who initially found it gone, who knows where.
She quickly wrapped the piece of metal in the parchment that she carried back from the Dreaming. Symbols were etched on the paper to make sure that the key would remain hidden as best as it could be at the time, so at least it would give them time before someone else happened upon it.
She stood up and walked back to Johanna, who was watching her carefully the whole time.
“As promised.” She muttered, handing her the wrapped bundle that Johanna accepted and put it back on the boulder she was leaning against.
“How bad is it?” She checked, guilt for Johanna getting injured crawling up her throat. But Johanna only smiled and waved her hand at her.
“Nothing to worry about, love. I’ve had worse dates than this, trust me.” Johanna’s attempt at humour did not much to squelch the guilt, but she smiled in a sad attempt to pretend that it did.
“You pack a punch, babe. Might just have to keep you around from now on.” Johanna grinned and she shook her head in slight misbelief - leave it to Johanna to make jokes at the time like this, when she’s still barely standing on her own feet.
“What about you?” She looked down at the ripped fabric of her sleeve and shrugged.
“Just a scratch. I’ve had much worse, trust me.” She smiled back at Johanna and felt another presence behind her a second later. She did not feel like re-hatching the same argument from mere minutes ago, so she refused to look back at Morpheus, even when she felt his eyes on her. Johanna, having watched the previous standoff between them, took pity on the brooding Dream, hovering over the other woman’s shoulder in clear worry and frustration.
“So, this is it, huh?” She pointed to the wrapped bundle on the boulder and moved to unwrap it, to get a closer look. Morpheus took a step towards it, and with both Johanna and Dream redirecting their attention to it, she breathed out a shaky breath.
Her heart was trying to beat out of her chest, and she could feel it in her throat. She mumbled something she wasn’t entirely sure was even words, and took a couple of steps away from them.
She couldn’t hear them speaking anymore. Her ears were ringing, and not from the blow she took.
This was not how it was supposed to happen, and why the hell is this happening? How is she supposed to find the rest of the pieces, protect them if need be and then go all the way back when she can’t even protect herself anymore? She could feel the incoming panic trying to overwhelm her brain, numbness starting to spread through her arms in cold waves. She shook out her hands, flexing her fingers into fists and letting up in short bursts, trying to get the blood flowing back normally, but her thoughts were spiralling.
The ringing in her ears was growing higher in pitch, and her eyes couldn’t seem to focus on much anymore. This can’t be happening. Not here, not now.
She pulled all her blockers and started going through all the tricks she knew helped her in the past. She gripped the pendant and the ring on her silver chain to try and ground herself, breathing in deeply and hoping this would be enough. Her fingers tightened around the silver chain, trying to focus on each indent and bump.
She had to get her breathing under control.
She had to focus on something else, something other than the failing of today. She had to try thinking of somewhere safe and secure.
Her mind took her to her childhood home, forcing her brain to relive only the good memories. Memories of a breakfast with her family when she was little, her father flipping pancakes in the air, and her mother slipping an extra scoop of frosting on her plate in secret. She didn’t feel like she was being crushed by the weight of the ocean anymore, but just by a fraction, so she continued.
She watched herself petting a dog, whom she kept calling B, much to his apparent displeasure. Evening stroll by the river in her realm when she was no more than a teenager, and it felt like her world was crumbling apart because she failed a test. Trying not to laugh when she was reading a poem her friend wrote, leaning over his shoulder, because she didn’t want to offend him or hurt his feelings, but Gods was it bad. Chopping vegetables in the kitchen with him, watching him gesticulate wildly along with his story.
Then, surprisingly, her brain took her to the Dreaming. Her walks with Morpheus back on the sandy black shores - him walking beside her, a proud look on his face whenever she would compliment their surroundings. Her, creating something for the first time, with Dream looking back at her with such wonder in his bottomless eyes.
The comfort and stability wrapped around her in a steady embrace until she felt someone standing next to her.
She swallowed, feeling a little bit more in control of herself, and turned to face Morpheus. He was watching her with concern etched on his face. He opened his mouth to say something when she cut him off.
“Can you promise me something, please?”
He blinked once, and she continued, not waiting for his confirmation.
“I need you to promise me. Promise that, whatever happens next, you will collect the remaining pieces of that key and keep them safe.”
He frowned at her.
“It is you who will collect them. I am merely here to help, if need be.”
“You don’t understand. I need to know that if something were to happen to me, you will take care of this.”
Darkness was shrouding his face, and he looked angry with the mere suggestion. He could feel how tightly his body was wound, and he clenched his fists unconsciously.
“You are under my protection. Nothing will happen, not now or ever. I will not allow it.” He spoke with authority, but a tiny part, deep inside him, faltered.
He’s never been a protector. He never could manage to keep the ones he loves away from harm or pain or misfortune, not really. Everyone who was close to him to some degree ended up getting burned. Some more than the others. And none of that he managed to prevent, no matter how much he tried. What makes him think that he could do that for her, though? He doesn’t have a stellar record there.
He refuses to let the small sliver of doubt resurface anywhere near, though.
“I’m serious. If something were to happen-“
“It will not.” He cut her off once again, leaving no room for argument, and she sighed.
“Just promise me. I need to know that the key will be protected and that it will go back to where it’s needed. Please? For my own peace of mind.”
Morpheus faltered. He looked her deep in her eyes and leaned in closer, trying to get his point across.
“I vow to you. What needs to go back, will go back.” She smiled at him in relief and nodded, but he continued. He reached out, grabbing her arm and giving it a squeeze. “I have promised before, and I will vow to you again, if need be. You are under my protection. No harm will come to you, for I will not allow it.”
She wanted to argue that he simply was not able to make these promises. That no one ever is. He might be an Endless, but he was not all-powerful, and he could not control every outcome. It just... it didn’t work like that.
She chose not to say it out loud, though.
Morpheus watched as she took a step closer to him, then another. He looked at her, confused by her actions, his confusion only growing when she leaned in closer to lay her head on his chest. He felt himself tense, not understanding or knowing how he must react.
Her forehead pressed to his chest, and he felt warmth spread from where her cold skin touched his. Her arms remained at her side. It felt intimate.
Before he could say or do anything, she lifted her head up and smiled.
“Thank you, Morpheus.” She muttered, took another and then another step back, until she was far enough away for his hand to drop from her forearm.
She didn’t wait for him to respond and walked back to where Johanna was currently leaning her face in closer to the piece of the key they had left on the boulder.
He watched her walk away, mind spinning.
The only thought solidifying in his brain would have made him question himself if he was thinking clearly. But he was more and more sure.
He will do whatever needs to be done. No harm will befall her, not while he is here.
He is Dream of the Endless. He will not accept any other outcome.
“Not to start another argument here, but you really should stop behaving like this.” He looked at her in question, and Johanna sighed. She knew he wasn’t great with social interactions, but she really didn’t think she would need to spell everything out. “Cold, I mean. Just talk to her, for fucks sake, and stop with your intense staring.”
“Do not speak of matters which do not concern you.”
She rolled her eyes at him.
“You know what I mean. You’re sending mixed signals, and she really doesn’t seem like the kind of girl to second-guess things or be into that.” She’s known Morpheus for a while now, and she could proudly say that she knew him, to a certain extent at least. She was observant by nature, too, so it was so obvious to her that it was a little bit sad he refused to admit it.
But in the short time she had to observe their interactions, he just... stayed intense and cold. Yes, she joked around and dropped unnecessarily flirtatious words here and there, but it was for his own benefit - he needed to get out from behind those thick walls of his.
So far, he just looked prissy. And Johanna doubted that anyone would find that very attractive.
"You're mistaking my silence for indifference, Constantine. Dangerous mistake to make." He lifted his chin up as he stepped away from Johanna, but his body refused to uncoil. Morpheus really couldn’t understand why this woman was suddenly inserting herself in his life, or what gave her any indication that she was even allowed to.
Mortals...
When he reached his other two companions, he felt himself finally relax just by a fraction, as if he was finally reaching safety. And he was - the quicker he can get back to the Dreaming, the faster he can get this weird interaction behind him and finally focus on what’s really important.
He felt his eyebrow twitch the moment he heard Johanna’s yell from behind him.
He felt his eyebrow twitch the moment he heard Johanna’s yell from behind him.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, love! Don’t be a stranger.”
He watched as the woman, currently trying to wrestle an almond from Matthews’ beak, turned back and gave Johanna a bright smile. So bright and filled with familiarity, it made Morpheus’s frown deepen.
“See you soon, Jo!”
‘Jo? Since when is that Constantine woman a ‘Jo’ to her?’
Dream didn’t wait any longer before he grabbed her forearm and led them further down the narrow London street. He felt her stumble for a second before she fell into step with him without another word. There was an alley somewhere up ahead that he could use to return back to the Dreaming.
He was more than ready to be done with the Waking World for as long as he can manage.
Story tag list:
@ladyhesperus @leah-halliwell92 @iamempty13 @sysibat-blog @bontensbabygirl
Will we be getting a new chapter of the fracture at some point??? It is such a good piece of writing!
Hihi!
Thanks so much for reading my ramblings and sticking around 😭💚
Life has been life-ing a bit too much… I started a new job and it’s just been one thing after another, honestly. But I finally have a weekend to rot, so next chapter should be out this weekend!🤞
A/N. - Couldn't close October without leaving a little something...
Summary - Self-care is important when you've just had an absolute shit of a day. Thankfully, you have someone to help you with that.
Content warnings - minors DNI! for a reason 👀, Morpheus is down so bad, soft!dom Morpheus, fluff, aftercare.
Pairing - Dream of the Endless x reader
To say that you had a shitty day would have been a gross misunderstanding. Pretty much everything that could have gone wrong, had.
First, you woke up hours before you were supposed to be up for the day, when you heard a weird noise in your bedroom. It took you just a couple of moments to wake up fully to realise that the noise you were hearing is from dripping water. Water, that was currently dripping from your ceiling and slattering on the floor.
By the time it took you to put a bucket under the leak, reach your neighbours, who, apparently, had a burst pipe, and call for your building maintenance team, there was barely an hour left before you had to be up for the day.
You sighed, knowing that there was no point by then to even attempt to go back to sleep. As much as you wanted to go back to the soothing embrace of The Dreaming, you knew that Morpheus had to go back to his duties. It was better to just start the day bright and early. And, maybe, if you're lucky, you can try to sneak back into the Dreaming a little bit earlier than usual.
The universe had other plans, though. Being awake from such an unusual hour put your head in a weird place. The whole world felt like it was moving 2 seconds faster than you did, and you felt completely off balance.
The sleeve of your favourite cosy knit sweater got caught on the door handle just as you were going through the door, yanking your body back with an unmistakable rip. Mourning the loss of your sweater, you changed out of it in a rush and ran out the door to catch the train to work. Only there did you realise that you put the new blouse inside out in your haste.
Burrowing deeper into your scarf, in both shame and cold, you decided to just pop into the café bathroom on the way to work. You needed more caffeine anyway.
Changing out of the blouse in lightning speed, you thanked the barista behind the counter, grabbed your coffee and rushed out the door. Only to have your boot slip right next to the entrance to your work, making you lose your footing. In the last-ditch effort to save yourself from further embarrassment this fine morning, you grabbed onto the wall for support, which stopped your descent to the cement pavement. But nothing comes free, and you paid the price for that dearly in the currency of your precious coffee. The cup crumpled in your hand and spilt the, thankfully not scalding anymore, liquid right down your pants.
You ended up using your scarf to try and soak up the coffee-drenched material, giving up halfway through. You stuffed the ruined scarf back in your bag and rushed up the stairs to, hopefully, survive the workday.
The dark colour of your pants thankfully covered the coffee stain, so you weren't that bad off, all things considered. What was bad, though, was your entire workday.
From sending an important email to the wrong Reece in the company (why are there so many of them?? Just pick another name!) to your laptop having to update its software right before an important video meeting. You ended up joining that halfway through, barging in with your microphone unmuted, where the host actually had to stop and ask you to mute yourself. During lunch, you swallowed a small fish bone that you felt lodge in your throat for hours after that. The elevator was not working right when you had to go 7 floors up for another meeting, so you arrived all sweaty and panting out of breath - you really should make use of that free gym membership that the company offered.
So, you definitely had better days this year.
In the attempt to change the day, you decided to take it easy for the evening. You knew you had a bottle of wine calling your name somewhere in the cupboard. After work, you stopped at a supermarket and got yourself a box of cupcakes, as a means to drown yourself in sugar.
Thankfully, the way back home was less of a fight for your life. You closed the doors behind yourself, kicked off your shoes, and collapsed on the sofa. As much as you wanted to wrap yourself in a blanket, watch some trashy TV and stuff your mouth full of cupcake icing, or, better yet, to fall asleep and wake up in the Dreaming, you felt sweaty. The coffee stains dried ages ago, and your pants felt stiff and sticky.
You dragged yourself off the sofa and into your bathroom, dedicating the last of your energy to the task at hand. You started filling your tub full of water, dropped a bath bomb in and watched it fizz, creating a mountain of bubbles. You grabbed your box of cheap cupcakes, a glass of wine, some half-decent candles and the cosiest shirt to sleep in afterwards, and closed the doors to trap the steam in.
Dipping a foot in, you sighed in bliss. The water, just on the pleasant side of hot, tingling the skin and sending goosebumps down your back. You could feel it seeping through the skin and muscles, before finally reaching your freezing bones. You haven't even realised how cold you've been, but it would make sense given your poor attire for the day, which ended up being plagued with unrelenting winds and sporadic rains.
You slowly eased yourself in until your neck, and then deeper some more, until the bubbles tickled your nose, and stayed there. When it felt like you could feel your limbs again, you reached out for the cupcake that you left on the rim of the bathtub and stuffed it in your mouth.
Self-care at its best.
Somewhere between your third cupcake and half an overfilled glass of wine, you felt the air in your small bathroom, now resembling more of a sauna, shift. You didn't need to turn your head to know that you were no longer alone, and a smile touched your lips.
You were feeling much better already, so you opened your eyes just to drink in the sheer beauty of him.
Your Dream stood by the door in all his regal beauty. Head held high, back straight, wrapped in black. His lips, for once, were not set in a hard frown, shoulders relaxed just a fraction. An unmistakable softness in his eyes.
The same look, only you were ever privy to.
"My love." He greets you, eyes softening even further at the sight of you, submerged in bubbles and warm candlelight. Voice a touch above a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb the tranquil bubble you created for yourself.
"Hi, love." You smile back at him, lifting a hand out of the water and reaching toward him with a grabby hand. He takes it as a confirmation that you want him closer, and wastes not a single second before he glides over to your side.
His hand grasps yours as he lowers his head to lay a kiss on the back of your hand. His eyes are still watching you like you're the single most important creation in this universe. Reverent tenderness etched into every move, to convey just how grateful he is that you deem him worthy of your presence.
You can feel a hot blush climbing its way over your neck and cheeks. You hoped it would have been harder to notice with the small room being this steamy and bathed in candlelight, but he knew you well enough to know the effect he always has on you. Amusement dances in his eyes, and he keeps a lingering kiss pressed to your skin, lips softly brushing the back of your hand for longer than he should have.
A corner of your lips twitches into a wicked smile you direct at him, and you tug your arm back. With him absolutely refusing to relinquish his hold, he follows. He leans over the rim of the bathtub and lays a kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes in bliss and drink in the peace and rightness of this very moment after the day of never-ending chaos.
"Long day?" He mumbles into your skin, moving a hairbreadth away, refusing to let more distance between the two of you. You hum in response.
"Endless." Your body shakes in laughter at the stupid joke you made. It was reassuring to know that you haven’t been defeated by this crappy day, and you were still the funniest person in this room.
He fights the urge to roll his eyes, but his lips twitch in amusement. Not because the joke was funny - far from that. He simply enjoyed watching happiness dance across your cheeks, touching the corners of your eyes and settling on your plump, soft lips. He will stomach a lifetime of less-than-funny jokes, just for the privilege of seeing you like this. And he will do it gladly.
He reaches his other hand out and brushes your hair back from your face.
"Tell me about it." He kneels next to the bathtub you’re lying in, one hand still grasping yours. You lower it and settle on your stomach, his coat sleeve submerging into the colourful water hidden under the mountain of bubbles. His other hand continues to brush your hair softly, thumb occasionally brushing your cheek or temple, eyes not leaving your face for a moment.
His undivided attention would put anyone, Gods and mortals, on the edge. But to you, the intensity in his gaze will always feel like home. Like safety.
You start recounting your day and how everything that could have gone wrong, pretty much had. Morpheus listens attentively, letting out small hums here and there. His gaze flickering across your face, but never straying any further.
At some point during your story, you feel his fingertips start to wander over the slick skin of your stomach, down the side of your hip. He draws soothing circles over your thighs, moving up and down, featherlight touches just on the side of soft and not ticklish. You start to relax deeper into soapy water without even realising it.
Soon, shapes and patterns start moving up your hip and back over your stomach, large hand splaying there in a gesture that could only be described as possessive.
Curious fingertips move up your ribs, reacquainting with the softness of your body. The one he will spend an eternity worshipping, if you only let him.
Your fingers follow his in their path, settling on the back of his hand, tracing soft shapes of your own.
Once your story starts winding down, you feel his hand inching up once again. He stops just at the underside of your breast, brushing the delicate skin there with the backs of his fingers, but refusing to go any further. You interlock your hands and move them up, letting him know you're just as excited as he is to have his hands wandering. He squeezes your breast softly, and you can see his shoulders loosen up just a fraction more. His impeccable posture, even when kneeling next to you, unwinding more, as if he was breathing out the stress of his own day. You make out the softest of sighs leaving his lips.
You crack your eye open and send him a questioning look. He was very touchy this evening. Not that you're complaining, of course.
His thumb brushes over your nipple, and your breath catches. You barely suppress a shiver racing down your spine as he continues to watch you, eyes full of wonder. As if you were the most beautiful life in this realm and any other. The most wondrous creature that even he, the Lord of Dreams and Nightmares, could have ever imagined. His beautiful, strong, smart, resilient queen.
"Let me take care of you, my love." He whispers. He turns his palm to grasp your wrist and lifts your hands up to his lips once more. He plants a soft kiss, eyes closing in comfort.
You sigh, mesmerised. The love in his eyes, the adoration etched into every single line of his body. This beautiful, powerful being, on his knees in front of you, pleading with you just so he could touch you. You never felt more beautiful. Never felt this powerful. You nod your head, as words refuse to form on your tongue any longer, and he leans down, locking his lips with yours.
The kiss is all-consuming. Heavy and filled with passion. His tongue locking in a dance with yours, fighting for dominance, lips nipping yours softly. You feel his hand grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he indulges in something he could not stop thinking about since the last time he saw you. His other hand moves over your chest, a familiar weight of your breast settling in his palm. He could feel something deep in his chest flip with the rightness of this moment.
You’re so lost in the burning feeling coursing through your veins that you don’t even notice when you start sitting up, pushing back into him. You wrap both your arms around his neck, trying to use them as leverage to pull yourself, and tangle your fingers in his messy hair.
You feel his hand leave your chest to cradle your ribcage, nudging you to lie back into the steaming water, and you crack an eye open to look at him in confusion again. He's there, bent over the porcelain rim of the bathtub, and you have half a mind to ask him what he’s doing, before you feel his hands slowly start to wander again.
He moves slowly, taking his time and indulging. Testing and teasing, fingers dipping in and out of the water to follow the curves of your skin. Still so tender that it sends tingles down your arms and legs, but never more than that.
He moves his fingertips up and down the length of your side, but his game starts to get tiresome to you, and you open your eyes to glare at him in reprimand. He has absolutely no shame. No guilt in his eyes. Just open wonder and insatiable hunger in the depths of his bottomless black eyes, flecked in stardust.
You open your mouth to tell him off when you feel his fingers inch up your inner thigh towards where you want him the most right now. He moves with a clear purpose, and it's enough to make you choke on your own words, lips parting in a choked gasp. He clearly takes that as a prized victory, judging by the slight twitch of his lips.
His thumb brushes over your clit briefly, but you know him well enough to know that that was no accident.
'Smug bastard...'
Before you can say anything to him, his finger circles your sensitive nub, and you can feel your knees jerk in automatic response. He rubs circles around it, alternating between tight and fast, and featherlight, for so long, but you have no chance to predict what he will do next and stay just on the edge. But never enough to actually push you over it.
You let out a mewl, thighs trembling and bending at your knees. Your hand shoots out to wrap around his wrist, and he tuts at you in reprimand, eyes boring deep into yours.
"Do not deprive me of yourself." His deep drawl makes your heart flip, the demand leaving no room for argument. But he clearly misunderstood your intentions - you were not aiming to stop him. You just needed him to stop teasing already. You roll your eyes at him and his antics.
"Then touch me properly."
Your fingers relax around his wrist, and that's all the invitation he was looking for.
His fingers slide lower, leaving your throbbing clit, and you feel his finger plunging inside you with barely any preamble. Your breath catches at the sudden intrusion, but you feel no discomfort. You were past the prep needing stage of his little game. His ring finger follows shortly after, and you involuntarily let out a gasp.
His other hand moves your head towards him, and he leans in to claim your lips again. He could feel your hot, tight walls quiver around his fingers, and he sighs in delight.
Morpheus continues kissing you breathless, one hand still keeping your head in place, and you're happy to give him the control he's looking for. His fingers finally start moving and curling, finding that perfect sweet spot deep inside you with ease and familiarity, and you lurch from the water and into him.
But he's already there, laying you back down, his curled fingers never stopping their perfect assault, and you barely have the mind to fill your lungs with oxygen. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the sensations burning through your limbs. You arch your chest, vaguely aware of the water sloshing around you.
"Eyes on me." He commands, and you no longer have any willpower to deny him. Anything. You will do anything he wants, as long as he doesn’t stop.
Your eyes meet, and the absolute hunger and adoration in his eyes makes you let you the most pathetic moan. His fingers still working you open, you reach out your other hand towards his face, and he leans his cheek into your palm, nuzzling the skin there. The act so pure and innocent, and so opposite from what he's currently doing with his other hand, that it threatens to give you whiplash.
The obscene squelching you can hear over the blood rushing in your ears makes you let out a deep moan, heat coiling at the pit of your stomach. You’re breathing hard, not able to fill your lungs nearly enough, but you tug his face back towards yours until your lips clash once again. It’s all teeth and tongue and all shaking desperation to be closer.
Your hands anchor to him, one tangled in his messy hair, the other gripping his coat lapel.
His hand is moving faster now, and it's not long before you can feel a third finger enter you, stretching you further. You grip his hair tighter, and you can feel his chest vibrate with a moan he's fighting to suppress.
You know he likes you much more vocal, though, so you detach your lips from his with some difficulty and let out a long whine.
His hand moves faster, thumb drawing tight and fast circles around your clit to bring you closer and closer. Rapidly cooling water is sloshing around you, and you’re pretty sure there’s a puddle on your bathroom floor. Wouldn't it be fun to flood your neighbours tonight?
You feel his pace slowing down again, fingers curling just right to hit that sweetest spot over and over again. Your whines are getting louder, no longer being completely drowned out by the squelching and water sloshing and spilling from your tub.
You feel his nose nudge your cheek, and he whispers something in your ear, but you're far too lost in your pleasure to understand or even hear him. His name leaves your lips in a never-ending chant, as if it's the only thing you still know how to do.
His thumb moves across your clit, fingers moving in and out of your hole at a swift pace, and you feel the coil tighten even further. Morpheus's fingers tighten around the back of your neck to turn you back to him, and he slots his mouth over yours. He swallows up the moans leaving your lips, letting them slither down his throat as he continues to kiss the life out of you.
You come crashing with no warning, lips parting from his to let out the most guttural moan. He lets the moment pass, committing the sound to his memory to revisit later, before he follows after your lips again and continues to steal the breath right out of your lungs. Your body is trembling uncontrollably, heat coursing through and spreading in your veins.
He lets you ride out your high on his fingers, never ceasing the softest touches, teeth nipping at your kiss-bitten lips, brushing against the crown of your head and leaving soft kisses, thumb brushing your cheek. You vaguely note that he's breathing harder and deeper than normal, exhales catching on his lips.
Your breathing is ragged, and you can't seem to fill your lungs with enough air. The humid air in the bathroom is not helping with the task at hand, but he doesn't rush you. Your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest. He keeps planting little kisses everywhere his lips could reach, giving you enough time to come back to him.
Once you have enough strength to open your eyes, you feel him cradle your jaw with both hands and return to your lips for a messy, sloppy kiss. Your trembling hands lift off from where they were gripping the tub rim to grasp at his coat, desperately clinging to the safety and security that his arms guarantee.
You want to be closer to him. You need him closer.
He's wearing too many clothes, and you need to touch his skin, now.
"Please…" you mutter right into his mouth, and he doesn't need more than that to understand what you need. He plants a kiss on the tip of your nose, before you feel his arm wrap around the backs of your knees, the other supporting your back, and you use your remaining strength to grip his shoulders.
He stands up with you in his arms, dripping water all over, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he can't seem to stop kissing every inch of you that his lips can reach. He goes down on one knee once again and sits you up on the rim of the bathtub.
Morpheus grabs a towel and starts drying your body off, wrapping it around your shoulders and kissing your temple. He moves down your body, his eyes tracking his own hands and their path, making sure to catch every single drop of water as if it's the most important job that he's been blessed with in his existence. As if you're the most precious thing to him that ever existed.
He makes sure to taste every newly dry inch of your skin on his lips. You can feel his lips on your shoulders, moving down to your chest in the most comforting of ways. He kisses your wrists and palms, and the warmth spreads through your insides. The kisses he lies across your ribs makes you suppress a giggle from the ticklish feeling, and he cracks a small smile in response. When his lips move from your knee to the inside of your thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin there, you grip his hair in warning and Morpheus all but growls.
"My love." You mutter in a voice as stern as you could muster at this moment, which, to be fair, wasn't much, but he stills, eyes lifting to yours. Your fingers relax in his hair, and you brush it softly, fingers hooking under his chin, bringing his face up. He follows as if under a spell.
"Let's get out of here, love. It's getting chilly." You continue, wanting more than anything to lie down in your soft bed and wrap yourself around your Dream.
Morpheus, by the looks of it, could not agree more with your idea. He flicks his wrist, and the fluffiest bathrobe wraps around you. You snuggle deeper into it, vaguely registering that it's definitely not one of the ones you own - he must have created it for you just now.
You smile at him in gratefulness and lean down to peck his forehead. He basks in the moment, fingers flexing at your sides, before lifting you back in his arms and standing up. You lean your head on his shoulder as he carries you out and into your bedroom.
Your head hits the pillow, and you feel his familiar weight settle between your legs as you give him a smile that he returns in earnest. His nose bumps into yours, and you hear him whisper against your lips.
"Let us see if we can make this evening more pleasing, my love." His eyes twinkle with the galaxies you'll never get tired of getting lost in, and you grin back at him.
He brushes a strand of hair back from your forehead.
Note - I had way too much fun writing this! Let me know your thoughts :)
Cross-posted on AO3 here.
She could feel her strength coming back to her with each day, much faster than she expected. She knew from experience what kind of pain in the ass it was to get stabbed with a dagger embedded with one of the forbidden runes. The last time that happened, it took her months to even walk without wincing with each step. Now, she felt almost as good as new, with just a dull ache following sharp movements.
"Who looked after me when I was injured?" She ended up asking Morpheus on their way back from their walk.
"Dream Healers."
"They did a remarkable job! Really, I feel much better, so much faster than I expected. I'd like to thank them." She turned to face him, but he kept his eyes trained ahead of him.
"It is merely their duty," Dream said unbothered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Her lips twitched to hold back a small smile. "Still. I'd like them to know that I am grateful, Morpheus, and I appreciate it."
His name rolled off her tongue softly. Dream wasn't used to hearing his name out loud, let alone anyone addressing him softly. He was used to being called out in fear, anger, respect or cold detachment. Never softly. Never without the additional weight carrying each syllable.
He realised that he liked the sound of his name coming from her.
They walked in silence for a long while, and she was starting to believe he would not reply to her anymore.
"Very well." She looked back at him, surprised. "Your gratitude shall be passed."
They entered the reading room hand in hand.
She felt something small and barely there brush against her lower back as Dream walked over to where Lucienne was standing on the far side of the library, holding a stack of papers to her chest. It looked like he would be working from the reading room today.
She made her way right to the desk she was occupying the previous night, the papers precariously stacked and just waiting to be tipped over.
They have been working in this relative silence for several hours. Sitting far enough from each other that they couldn't hear each other's hushed voices, keeping a relative privacy, especially with the constant rustling of paper.
He watched her, bent over a large map, holding a piece of parchment in one hand, most likely trying to pinpoint the location mentioned in that report. Matthew was hopping around the map, and she seemed content to listen to him ramble.
He watched how her eyes flickered from the map to Matthew, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at something, before his raven cawed in response, and her face morphed to some kind of understanding.
Lucienne cleared her throat gently, and Morpheus snapped from his thoughts. He picked up the quill and dipped it in ink.
"If I may, my lord," Lucienne started. "You have been spending more time in the library recently."
His quill stopped midair before it could touch the parchment. He had taken to doing his paperwork in the reading room for the past couple of daysand, by the looks of it, it did not go unnoticed.
He stayed still, Lucienne's words and the unspoken question there feeling heavy in the air between them.
"Change in scenery was preferred." Dream muttered, keeping his voice neutral. He dipped the quill in the ink once more and started curving the letters on the paper in front of him. He had a lot of work to do and preferred not to waste time.
"Of course." Lucienne agreed, her voice neutral, but they both knew she was not buying it in the slightest. She looked like she wanted to press on the subject, but thought better of it at the last minute.
She knew Morpheus for a long time, probably longer than anyone who’s still around, not counting his siblings. She knew that that kind of approach would not get her anywhere. If she wanted to satiate her curiosity, she would need to be more patient.
Morpheus continued with his paperwork, his eyes flickering subconsciously to the newcomer every couple of minutes.
Unfortunately, a lot of strange things have been happening in the Waking World for the last couple of decades. They had to sift through which ones fit their timeline, what they were looking for and what was unrelated. All of this was a bit tedious and took longer than she would have liked.
It didn’t help much that she could feel a dark and heavy pair of eyes on her all through the day, but every time she turned, she found nothing. Was there someone else in the library that she hadn't met yet?
Matthew, the talking raven that was currently perched on the back of one of the chairs, cawed. It still weirded her out that there was a talking raven hopping around, but then again, she's seen weirder things happen. Lived with weirder ones, too.
Matthew liked this newcomer. There weren’t a lot of people with whom he could chat with. And he really wanted to chat. Boss wasn’t really an easy-going type, to put it mildly, and didn't care for his rambling thoughts. Lucienne, as kind as she is, was too busy to entertain him and keep him company.
This one, however, seemed to be warming up to him. He could work with that.
He had taken upon himself to explain the intricacies of the Waking World to her, as an ex-resident of the world himself. In return, she shared stories from the realm she came from, and they found themselves comparing bits and pieces until they were both facing each other, her finger occasionally brushing through his feathers.
They tried chatting about easy topics to keep the mood light, but with all the papers scattered all around them, all containing reports from the Waking world varying in heaviness, it was hard to ignore the elephant in the room. And he was a curious crow.
"I couldn't believe that a realm so calm would fall into such disarray. And in such a short period of time." She mumbled, a note of sadness in her tone.
“People never cease to surprise me,” he mumbled like he wasn’t a human himself at some point.
"Fear and the promise of power are strong motivators, I guess." She shrugged like it was perfectly understandable or acceptable for anyone to do the atrocities they were looking at.
The easy way she spoke of the situation in her realm made Dream strangely uncomfortable. His fingers tightened on a quill he was writing with, but he kept his eyes on the parchment in front of him, not looking up. The things happening in her home were not normal or tolerable, and she should not be accepting them as such.
He wasn't naive; he knew wars and disputes raged constantly all around the cosmos, varying in their intensity. He himself played parts in those wars from time to time as well. But that does not mean that she should be this comfortable and forbearing with the notion of it.
She shouldn't have to be.
He looked down when he heard a soft crunch, only to see that, in his displeasure, Dream cracked the quill he was working with.
“I think I have something,” Lucienne announced and stood from her chair. She moved closer to where the rest of them were huddled up and spread out the large parchment, looking like a topographic map, over their open books.
“There,” Lucienne started, and he could see everyone in the reading room gather closer. She pointed her finger at a location she had been investigating before. “Hvalfell Crater Lake in West Iceland in the Waking World. A remote area between a waterfall and a fjord. Sudden banks of fog and smell of burning metal, but no geothermal activity for years now. Animals started avoiding the area completely, and timing matches our timeline. The area itself seems to be remote enough not to attract much attention."
Lucienne paused and continued in a softer tone.
"There's also been a report of someone being burned to death without fire on the night the key supposedly dropped. Authorities ruled it an 'Accident due to dangerous terrain'." Lucienne finished with a frown on her lips, clearly unimpressed with the outcome that the mortals labelled it as.
"That's not right," she muttered to herself and could feel all three pairs of eyes turn to her in confusion.
“No, but mortals tend to do that. They put any kind of explanation to label unexplainable.” Lucienne shrugged.
"No, I mean, the pieces by themselves, they're not harmful. I mean, yes, they could definitely cause something as strange as fogs in the area and unpleasant smells, maybe even some unusual geothermal activities. But animals would not feel that instinctual need to avoid it. And it would not cause unexplained deaths out of nowhere, that’s for sure. That's why it's been so difficult to find the key in the first place."
"You think there's something else to it?" Matthew cocked his head to the side in question.
"I don't know... What do you think?" She turned to Morpheus, who stayed silent for a moment longer before nodding his head.
"Perhaps."
"Is there anything you could think of?" she pushed, hoping for a little bit more than one-word answers. It would be nice if he shared his thoughts on this, at least every once in a while.
"Demon." He said with certainty.
"I'm sorry, what?" Maybe she shouldn't have wanted him to share his thoughts after all.
"Demons would be attracted to a place harbouring new and unusual power. It's a fair assumption that a demon of some kind is circling the area or guarding it." Lucienne quickly jumped in, nodding in agreement with her lord’s train of thought.
"It is a powerful demon. Banishing it won't work. We will need to exorcise it." Morpheus continued, his lips twisting in displeasure.
"Brilliant," she sighed. "Is there a way to go around the demon?"
"I will not support a deal between you and a demon. I forbid it." He glared at her until she raised her hands in surrender, agreeing not to go down that lane. "The demon would need to be sent back to hell."
"Sounds like you'll need an occultist," Matthew chirped, hopping from one leg to another. "Do we know any?" he asked in a sarcastic tone, head cocked to the side in mock thinking.
Dream turned a stern glare at the impudent bird with his sarcastic remarks. He really should consider getting a new one at some point. Someone more... agreeable.
"Do you?" A curious voice inquired from his side. Dream sighted, and he could see Lucienne trying to hide an amused smile with one of the reports she was suddenly holding in her hand.
"Yes," he grumbled, glaring off at no one in particular.
"Don't worry, she can be trusted," Lucienne mentioned lightly, but suddenly became so much more interested in the report she was holding after Morpheus turned his glare towards her.
"That's great then! I'd like to go meet her," she turned to Lucienne, trying to ignore Morpheus stiffening next to her.
"You are not to go alone," Dream cut in, leaving no room for any argument, and stood to his full height, shoulders back. He turned on his heel and glided out of the room.
The three of them were left to stand in the room. She turned to Lucienne and then to Matthew.
"Where is he going?" she asked, completely lost. Shouldn't they discuss the next steps? Or at least, shouldn't Dream pass some kind of contact over to her, so she, and whoever is accompanying her, could get in touch with this occultist?
Should she just go now to the Waking World? Can she even?
Matthew cawed in non-response, and she sighed in exasperation.
"And why exactly should I help you? Again?"
Johanna looked like a woman well in control, especially given the fact that two strangers and a talking crow were currently barging in on her in her own home. Demanding things, no less.
It looks like Dream was not big on social cues, like saying 'please' or 'hello'... or knocking.
Turns out, when Morpheus said that she was not to go alone, he meant to accompany her. To say that she shocked would be an understatement.
Don't get her wrong, she really did appreciate the gesture, and it was reassuring to go with him. After all the time they spent together in the Dreaming, she had to admit to herself that she felt comfortable with him.
But she really didn't expect him to tag along. At best, she assumed he would send one of his nightmares to accompany her and help her navigate. She really didn't think Dream would have the time to spare to come along.
She tried arguing that he does not need to burden himself with this. He already did so much to help her. But he would not take no for an answer, insisting that she's still injured and unfamiliar with the Waking World. Which was a fair point, but still.
She was also secretly hoping that, once in the Waking World, she could slip out quietly at some point for a minute or two, and make a quick call back. She hasn’t been in touch with him since she crashed in the Dreaming, and she was sure that he was growing sick with worry.
But, again, Morpheus left no room for any arguments.
He bent his elbow out for her to hold on to, and the moment her hand was secure in his hold, they were off. Before she knew it, they were in the Waking world.
She, Morpheus and Matthew found this Johanna woman, wrapped in a black trench coat, entering one of the townhouses in London.
She gave Johanna a quick and very brief recap of what they were looking for, trying to skim around as many details as she technically could without making it suspicious. She wasn't keen on explaining the full magnitude of what they needed to find - the fewer people who knew about the existence of that cursed book and all it contains, the better. Plus, it's not like she trusted this stranger she met 17 minutes ago.
She opened her mouth to respond, but Morpheus beat her to it.
"I was under the impression that a rather pesky nightmare has been frequenting your dreams."
Maybe it was better to leave the negotiations with Johanna to Dream. They seem to know each other well enough, and he probably knows what would need to be said or done to convince Johanna to help them. At least, better than she would, coming into this as blind as she did.
Morpheus wasn't exactly forthcoming about this occultist before they left.
"Not good enough. We had a similar deal before, and it didn't last." After the last time Dream promised Johanna to take care of her nightmare, she assumed it would be peaceful sleep moving forward. But that only lasted a couple of months, really, before a new nightmare found her. She wasn't falling for the same trick again.
"Nightmares are here for a reason. If another nightmare found its way to you, there was a cause for it." Morpheus insisted, refusing to budge. He did not trick her, despite what she would like to think.
"Sure, sure. Still a no from me. You'll have to sweeten the deal."
It was getting a little bit tiring being left out of a conversation, especially one that was literally her whole reason for being here. Who does he think he is? And who did he think she was?
Morpheus opened his mouth to continue arguing with Johanna, but she interrupted.
"What if I left the piece we retrieve with you?" Both Johanna and Dream turned to her, confusion and slight frustration marring Dream's face.
"No." Dream objects right away, turning to face her.
She looked at Dream in reprimand, like he was a misbehaving child, and Johanna had to bite her lip to keep from smirking in amusement.
This is interesting...
"It would be far too dangerous to leave something of such value in the hands of a Constantine. She is not equipped properly."
"I don't know, she seems capable enough to me," she muttered with a bit of an edge in her voice, and Johanna crossed her arms in response to his previous insult. "Johanna, are you able to exorcise it?"
Johanna gave her a brilliant smile back.
"You'll be surprised what I can do, love."
Dream turned his sharp glare back to Johanna, face twisting in a sneer. Before he could interject, Johanna's voice cut through.
"I'll do it."
Dream crossed his arms across his chest, continuing to glare icily. He didn't appreciate being constantly talked over.
"Provided you leave it with me.” Johanna continued. “It clearly attracts supernatural beings. If I can replicate at least a part of that... Well, 'd love the chance to study something like that."
"No." Dream refused, not budging.
"How about this. We leave the piece with you for a little bit. Just until we find the second one. Having a bigger chunk might attract too much attention and put you in danger, Johanna. It’s like a beacon. It would be safer to transfer it somewhere else, somewhere safer, afterwards.” She ignored Morpheus’ protest, trying to find a compromise with Johanna. “Let's check how it reacts once we get to it, and if it seems relatively safe by itself, I have no problem with you having access to it here, in London."
Dream was scowling into the distance, and they both took that as a sign to go ahead. Johanna nodded her head in agreement.
"That's reasonable. Finally, someone more..." Johanna paused, trying to find the right words. Her eyes trailed from the newcomer to Dream, currently clenching his jaw with arms crossed, and smirked. "Appealing."
Johanna watched Dream turn to her sharply with another glare and rolled her eyes.
"Always a pleasure to see you," Johanna muttered under her breath and turned on her heel. She took a couple of steps away from them before turning back around and continuing. "Let's go then. I will need to make some preparations."
He should have known this was a bad idea.
He shouldn’t have involved Johanna Constantine in any of this in the first place. Yes, Johanna was strong, clever and capable. She was good at what she does. And she was an obvious choice for this. But he knew her. He knew how much she liked to mess with everyone, if just for her own entertainment.
Dream of the Endless does not make mistakes. But he really should have thought this one through better.
He was sitting in the lounge chair on the far side of the room, observing the two women. Johanna was explaining some basic concepts of exorcising demons and how she would narrow down who they might be facing.
She didn’t need to go into so much detail. None of this was actually necessary. Johanna just needed to figure out who was currently causing issues, get her preparations ready and pack a bag so they could be on their way already.
Unfortunately, she seemed to be taking a suspiciously long time in her overly winded explanations. They already spent hours here, working.
Was work even the correct term for what was currently happening here? He could hardly recall anyone having to lean in this close and whisper between each other while researching anything.
Dream was pulled from his thoughts when he heard both of them burst into laughter again, and frowned, a tick in his jaw. He watched Johanna stand up from her spot, mumbling something under her breath that made both of the women roll their eyes, and walk out of the room.
He followed her with his eyes as she passed, and his frown only deepened when she sent him a smirk in passing.
He knew it. She was scheming something.
Matthew was clever enough to stay silent through all this, even if he felt like he needed to physically restrain himself from opening his beak.
With the occultist out of the room, he felt the suffocating air lighten around him, and his shoulders relaxed. Morpheus watched the remaining woman pick up the book she was reading and turn to him.
“Exorcising a demon is gonna put Johanna in danger.” She started. She had enough sense to know beforehand that this wasn’t going to be an easy one. However, from the way Johanna was preparing, it was clear that she suspected all this to be much tougher. “Are you sure this is the best way to go about this?”
“Demons tend to be deceiving. It is just smart to prepare.” Morpheus replied, voice even. He was under no illusion that this was going to be a quick grab and go. However, even with Johanna’s preparations, he preferred to stay close.
If he needed to step in and get on Lucifer’s bad side again, he would do what needs to be done.
“Is it smart to endanger her, though?” She asked, worry tingeing her voice.
“Don’t you worry about me, love. I’ve handled far scarier.” A light voice came from behind Morpheus, and he felt his shoulders instinctively tighten again. It was surprising how quickly he relaxed without that woman in the room.
Johanna walked back to the room and handed her a cup of tea. She smiled in thanks and put the mug down.
“Johanna,” she started. “I don’t want to involve you in something that can potentially get you hurt. It isn’t your duty. If you could just show me how you would go about this, I-”
But Johanna might as well be the most stubborn person she has ever met in her life, and refused to listen.
“Not a chance. If anyone is getting thrown across a field, it’ll be me.” Johanna announced with her head held high, leaving no room for argument. Then, a moment later, she added in an amused voice and a wink in her direction. “I bounce well.”
She laughed at Johanna’s innuendo and shook her head, relaxing back in her seat. It didn’t seem like there was any way to talk her out of it.
Morpheus’s face scrunched up in distaste. He could feel his jaw clenching involuntarily. Why is she laughing?
'How is that funny?’
He remained quiet, though, continuing to watch the two of them huddle up, Johanna standing way closer than it was necessary.
“You okay, boss?” It was strange to hear Matthew’s voice so subdued, but he was grateful that his raven had enough decorum not to attract unwanted attention.
He chose not to answer him, though. His eyes were fixed on Johanna and the way she was inching her hand towards the back of the other woman’s chair. His eyes narrowed.
'This is not right. What is Johanna up to?'
“Well, at this point, we have done everything we can from here. I will need to be closer to the approximate location for more precise scouting.” Johanna announced, pulling Dream out of his thoughts.
He watched Johanna turn away from him and Matthew and address the other occupant in the room.
"You're not opposed to some... hands-on research, are you, love?"
"Enough." Morpheus’s heavy and firm voice reverberated through the room before anyone could say anything else, and Johanna rolled her eyes. “We leave at once.”
Johanna was far from easygoing; that was easy to see even for her. But it was also obvious that she knew her craft well. She had an attitude, and sometimes, she would come off as unpleasant, to say the least.
Other than that, however, she had to admit that Johanna was fun. She clearly had a thing for pissing Morpheus off and took great pleasure, and, dare she say, pride, in getting a reaction out of him.
Which, by the looks of it, she was really good at too.
It was obvious already from the time she spent in the Dreaming that Morpheus was an absolute workaholic. He was unbending, old-fashioned, stubborn and had no sense of humour. What was happening today only proved further that he could not take it when someone would stray away from their duties or get even remotely derailed.
Johanna turned out to know exactly how to push Morpheus to put him off balance, and it was happening so much that she was starting to feel a little bit bad for him.
They settled into the modest hotel room Johanna kindly booked for them once they arrived. Morpheus scoffed at the cheap decor of the room and looked personally offended by the furniture he was expected to touch.
So he remained standing on the side of the room, surveying their work with royal authority.
She knew that they should focus, take this seriously and get the job done. This was the main reason why they were here in the first place. And the more time they wasted, the more room they left for something to go wrong.
But Johanna assured her that she’s a professional and they are well ahead of their schedule. They prepared for a couple of likely scenarios back in London, so now they just needed to scout the area on foot from a little bit closer to narrow down their options.
It didn’t look like Dream was aware of this, though, from the way he was scowling at them both, or he just enjoyed telling them off. This was quickly getting tiresome, though, so she started leaning into Johanna’s banter just to get back at him.
"You catch on quick, love. Might just have to keep you around." Johanna winked as they confirmed their route.
"Well, I am easy to work with." She shrugged, playing along, and Johanna’s smile widened.
Morpheus felt queasiness in the pit of his stomach, his eyebrows now seemingly permanently furrowed.
'Is she... interested in Johanna?' He could feel his fists clenching and unclenching. Anger flared up and started to spread through his limbs in freezing waves, but he willed it down. He glared at Johanna, following her every move with his eyes.
Both women leaned closer to the touristy map they grabbed from the reception downstairs. They had it spread out on the small table in the room. Johanna was checking her phone and reading out the locations she wanted to sneak into, and she was marking them down. They needed to do some local scouting first, before they could move to Crater Lake and, hopefully, find the missing key piece.
Before they could continue, she felt a heavy presence behind her. She turned and had to crane her neck all the way up to see his face. He put a hand on the back of her chair, his head still held high. She sent him a questioning look back, which he chose to ignore completely, his eyes locked on Johanna.
In the meantime, Johanna’s patience is beginning to crack. He has been glaring at her and constantly keeping his eyes peeled on her every move since they first met in London. And yes, it’s incredibly entertaining to get under Dream’s skin every once in a while, but this was starting to get to her as well. She wouldn’t show it to him, though.
"Is something wrong? You seem a bit restless." She all but purrs, smirking with mock amusement, dancing in her eyes.
"You are wasting our time." Dream growls. He could feel the woman in front of him jump out of the chair and turn back to him with a questioning look.
"What do you mean, wasting time? We're literally almost done here." She snapped, but Morpheus did not take his eyes off Johanna, his expression turning eerie.
"Do not trust her. Constantine’s are selfish and self-absorbed, and they will only do things that will serve them." A small smirk twitched on the corner of his lips that he quickly schooled back.
"Oh, how you wound me." Johanna puts her hand over her heart in a mock hurt, pout on her lips. "You do seem awfully tense there, Dream. Something on your mind?"
Dream stands tall, his icy look directed at Johanna, before lifting his chin in indignation, seemingly having made up his mind. The air in the room felt even heavier.
"You are forgetting yourself, Constantine.” Dream spoke with authority, voice ringing through the room. Then, without missing a beat, he continued. “Your services are no longer required, Johanna Constantine. Our agreement has now been void."
Johanna recoils in confusion, and they both start a glaring contest with each other.
Matthew caws from the back of the room where Morpheus was minutes ago, seemingly just as confused as she was. She jumps up and gets in between them. She could just see this being moments away from both of them starting to slap each other.
"What the hell are you talking about? Yes, we do!"
She was currently facing Dream, but he would not meet her eyes, keeping them locked with Johanna’s. They looked to be having some kind of silent conversation between each other, and she was really starting to get tired of this.
She had to de-escalate this, and fast. She could not let the whole trip go to waste, just because Morpheus now has a bone to pick with his friend.
She turned to Johanna.
"He's just exaggerating. Of course, we need your help, Johanna." But Johanna was ignoring her as well at this point, continuing to glare at Dream with her arms crossed.
She turned back to Morpheus and poked him in the ribs to get his attention. His eyes stayed locked, but he inclined his head just a fraction lower towards her, indicating that he was listening.
"Apologise to her!"
Both Dream and Johanna scoffed.
"I will not." Dream growled at the same time as Johanna deadpanned.
"He will not."
She tried to keep herself from pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration and sighed. Johanna smirked.
"That's alright, love. I'm used to the Endless being... temperamental, right? That's what they call you?" Morpheus could feel his eyebrow twitch in frustration, but Johanna didn’t wait for his reply and continued. "I made a promise to you. I will help and see this one through."
Johanna broke eye contact with Dream and looked at her, smiling sweetly. Her shoulders relaxed a bit with Johanna's response.
"Thank you, really."
She heard clothes rustle behind her and turned around, only to watch Dream walk towards the exit of the room.
"Where are you going?" Dream did not reply, but stopped in his tracks. She took a couple of steps closer to him, to be standing in front of him once again, and looked him in the eyes.
"My presence is not needed here." He announced with authority, then followed up in a quieter voice. "I will return before midnight."
And with that, he was gone in a whirl of sand.
"What's his problem now?" She turned to Johanna with an incredulous look. Matthew cawed in indignation, not happy being left behind by his Boss, but also a little bit relieved that he would have a couple of moments to process what just happened.
Johanna finally let out the laugh she's been holding in for what felt like ages.
"I see you're back to tormenting poor birds again, brother," he heard an amused voice from behind him and his frown deepened.
Dream didn't bother looking over when he felt a figure sit down next to him on a bench. He ripped another piece of the baguette he was holding, with probably more force than was necessary, and rolled it into a ball between his fingers.
This feels oddly familiar.
"Sister," he mumbled in greeting, keeping his eyes trained ahead of himself.
"Well, what's on your mind? I know you didn't call for me just because you missed me.” Death joked, her shoulder bumping into his.
"I did miss you, sister. Is it so hard to believe I would wish to spend time with you?"
Death sent him a deadpan stare.
"Yes, actually. I've known you long enough to have very little doubt on that."
Dream averted his eyes away from her, but she could have sworn his lips twitched in a smirk for a moment.
"Alright, as much as I love watching you brood," he could hear the amusement in her voice again. "Talk to me." She finished gently, and Dream had no choice but to heave a sigh.
It took him a couple of minutes to find the correct words, turn them around and taste them on his tongue. He opened his mouth to start speaking, but closed it, having thought better of it. Death waited patiently until he started speaking again.
"I do not know-" He started, but seemed uncertain how to finish the thought. He finally exhaled and mumbled. "Nothing, sister. It is nothing."
"Really?" She asked, unconvinced, watching Morpheus throw the small, rolled-up piece of bread at the pigeon. The piece hit the bird on the side of the head and bounced off.
She gave him a couple of minutes of quiet to collect his thoughts before she asked the question that had been bugging her for weeks now.
"Is this about that new addition to your realm? The one who fell from the skies-”
"Don't be absurd. Why would it have anything to do with her?" Morpheus cut her off, ripping another piece of bread off with a little bit more strength than necessary.
She lifted an eyebrow back at him, as if he were asking the most ridiculous question. She could see the tension in his fingers and the tight set of his jaw. He was really on edge.
"Dream. I'm gonna speak to you with nothing but love right now, because you are my little brother and I love you dearly," Death started, catching his eyes. "But will you grow up already?"
"Excuse me?" He glared at his sister. Nothing but love, she says, and she starts insulting him right off the bat. Too bad his glare has stopped working on his sibling after so many years.
"You heard me. You're acting like an idiot. Again." She stood up and snatched the remaining baguette from his hands. "What is it this time? You're bored out of your mind? Someone threatened to nudge your ego?”
Dream’s frown deepened. What was it with everyone today? He watched her stand in front of him, hands on her hips, with a disapproving look on her face.
"Look, I don't know what's going through that head of yours right now. But it's clearly weighing on you. If you're not ready to speak with me about this, that's fine; I will not push. But you need to start thinking.” She said, accentuating her words by pointing the end of the baguette at him accusingly. “Because whatever it is that you do right now is not helping.”
Morpheus averted his eyes, but Death continued, her voice gaining a softer edge.
“Brother, just try and understand where this confusion in you is coming from. Once you have a clearer view of that, it'll be easier to take the next step, whatever it is. Get to the root of the issue and start thinking, instead of just reacting. And if you want someone to listen to, you know I will always find time for you."
Dream felt a muscle in his jaw tick, but said nothing. Death sat back down next to him, and she poked him with the remaining baguette in the arm.
“I appreciate you not throwing it at my head this time.” He muttered in a deadpan voice and took the bread back from her. He could hear his sister letting out a laugh at that, and he felt a corner of his mouth twitch in response.
"I can't stay for much longer. I have some work to do." Death sighed after a couple more minutes of comfortable silence and looked away from Dream and to the side. She turned back to him with a smile on her face. "Would you like to come along?"
She asked, and Dream fought back a smile that twitched on his lips.
"It is alright, my sister. I must return to my duties as well."
Death's smile widened a fraction, and she watched her brother lean his back against the bench, looking less tense than when she found him. She could see the gratitude in his eyes, even if he would not say it out loud.
"It's been a while since I've seen you this rattled, brother." She said softly. "Look after yourself and yours." And with that, she was gone from his sight.
Morpheus heaved a deep sigh. It was getting late in the night, and he couldn't reasonably justify staying away for much longer. He had to go back.
He had to get a grip on whatever it was that was making his head spin.
He knew he behaved poorly and let Johanna get under his skin. But he was better than this. He just had to get a tighter leash on his temper and get this over with.
Tag list
@ladyhesperus @leah-halliwell92 @iamempty13 @sysibat-blog @bontensbabygirl
Note - I'm so so thankful, everyone, for giving this a shot! Let me know your thoughts :)
Cross-posted on AO3 here.
"I trust you are feeling better."
The words startled her out of her thoughts. She turned to the side only to lock eyes with bottomless black ones - she did not hear or feel him come in. The corner of her lip twitched.
"Yes, thank you."
He stood in silence, quietly watching her.
She spent the morning slowly - the light outside did not change much all through the time she spent here, so she could only guess the time. She wasn't sure what she was allowed to do here, so she stayed close to where she woke up for now. Taking careful and measured steps out of bed, she braced herself for immense pain, only to be slammed with a dull ache deep in her bones, but not much more than that.
Huh... she thought. Whoever attended to her here did a remarkable job. She had to remember to thank them.
She took a couple of steps around the room just to stretch the muscles she hadn't used in way too long, and explored what she could. There was a small washroom behind one of the doors, and she took the liberty of washing up quickly. By the time she got out, someone had left her breakfast on the table by the window.
That's how Morpheus found her, leaning against a table with a coffee mug between her hands. She was looking out the window, deep in thought.
"Thank you for the breakfast, by the way. That's very nice of you." She tried smiling to break the awkward silence that seemed to have settled between them.
"The Dreaming provides." He stated easily and continued to watch her intently.
She didn't really know what to say to that and ended up casting another glance outside the window.
"Am I allowed outside?" She asked, only half-amused.
He inclined his head once and turned towards the door.
"I wish to speak with you," he told her steadily, and waited half-turned for her to approach.
She set the mug back down on the table and walked towards him. When she was within arm's length, he reached his hand out towards her, guiding her out. It barely touched her back before Dream moved closer to her, and their surroundings started to shift. She frowned, looking away from his face. The walls seemed to bend in on themselves, stretching and twisting unnaturally, before losing any semblance of ever being walls at all. Colours swirled and mixed with each other - it all felt like a hallucination, and she reached out her arm to steady herself. She felt his cloak under her fingers, and it gave her a small sense of steadiness.
She looked back at him. He looked impassive as ever.
From the corner of her eye, she could see the colours morphing into something more solid than they were moments ago, and she realised they were back at the black sand beach.
He shifted slightly behind her, and only then did she remember that she was still holding on to his cloak. She let go of it quickly, slightly perturbed and took a step back.
"Sorry," she muttered, and he shook his head.
"My apologies. I should have forewarned," he said, but did not sound apologetic in the slightest. He started walking along the shore before she could respond, and she had to take a couple of quick steps to catch up with him.
Once at the step with him, she took her time to look around. The beach seemed to stretch on and on, with no end in sight. The grey skies ahead, and the bottomless black sea, gently breaking in waves of white foam, seemed to surround her in a cocoon of nostalgic comfort. She expected the harsh winds to blow from all directions, but all she could feel was just a slightly chilly breeze tangling her hair.
"It's beautiful." She muttered to herself.
He was already looking at her, his head turned slightly. Dream did not say anything back, but his face relaxed a fraction, and the satisfied gleam in his eyes betrayed his delight at her comment.
"We have not found any mentions in the library to corroborate your story." He started. He really didn't do much small talk, did he?
"I'm not surprised. It's hidden for a reason."
"Which is?"
"If it were a public or openly known thing, it wouldn't be much of a secret, would it? If it's not a secret, then it's only a matter of time before someone follows their greed and goes to search for it. That's a history lesson for another day," she shrugged. It really was insignificant at this time, and she knew he had better questions than that.
"Perhaps," he said in thought. He still found it frustrating to wrap his head around the fact that there are things he has been this ignorant of. Whole realms outside of his reach, that have been there this whole time, and he has been none the wiser.
"I will not overstay my welcome here." She started, and he looked back at her. "The Dreaming has been incredibly generous, and I'll be forever grateful. And as much as I'd love to stay longer in a place as beautiful as this, I do have a key to find and get back to where I'm needed."
She could feel his gaze on her, heavy and so intense, but she kept her eyes focused up ahead.
"I will aid you in your search," he spoke so casually that she felt like she had misheard him. Her steps faltered. His eyes were trained up ahead, and he continued strolling forward, as if he hadn't just said that.
"I'm sorry?" She looked at him uncertainly. He turned his head back down to look at her. "Why?"
"If this key falls into the wrong hands, it will endanger a lot more than just one realm. It would not be wise to ignore this."
"You actually believe me?" She muttered, absolutely stunned. And Endless, believing a random stranger who dragged the whole story of a realm not reached by Endless? The Dream of the Endless, basically admitting that there are things he is not aware of? Something he is not an expert on?
"I know you did not lie." Morpheus knew she did not tell him everything, far from it, but she did not lie either. Destiny is certain that her being here is an important thing that had to have happened. And if it actually is as important as it seems to be, she definitely could use all the help she could get. Given she's not even fully healed.
A moment of silence stretched between them. There were some things she was told about Dream of the Endless, and so far, only a few fit the impression she had of him in her head. She could definitely make use of the Dreaming's library, if it's even half as grand as she's been told.
She tilted her head in question.
"What do you want in return?"
"I do not require a payment back." He side-eyed her, taking offence that she would think so lowly of him. As if the Dream of the Endless would want for anything or require favours. "I am aware that what you told me before is true. And in this case, helping you find what you are looking for will work in my favour. It is my duty to help." He said. "You have Dreaming's support."
She did not know what to say. They looked at each other's eyes for a long moment before she broke the silence with a quiet, uncertain "Thank you," which sounded more like a question than anything.
"I wish to know more. If I am to assist."
She still looked at him a bit uncertainly, trying to see if there was an angle he was trying to play at. Lying a trap she would stumble in when she let her guard down. But he looked honest enough, as much as she could tell from his stony expression, so she went with her gut and started speaking.
"Yeah.. yeah, of course." She shook her head and went on. "We tracked the ripples from the moment the key disappeared, and somewhere around here was where we lost it. We assumed it reverted back its origins, so I figured this is where I'll start the search. Has there been anything unusual happening recently around here?"
He did not need to think twice.
"There have been similar rips in the skies before you came here." That got her attention. She turned her head full to him, giving Dream her full attention.
"Hours before you crashed into dreaming-" she furrowed her eyebrows at his choice of words, "there were three bursts of light."
"Three?" she looked equal measures shocked and panicked.
"Correct."
She pinched the bridge of her nose, a frown still marring her face. "I think it broke."
"I beg your pardon?" he was back to watching her incredulously.
"There was a small chance that the impact might damage the key. I didn't expect it to break into pieces, though." She kept quiet, mind racing. "I'm guessing it didn't fall to the Dreaming, then?"
"It has not, no." She knew it was a long shot, but she had to try. They lapsed into silence again, Dream giving her a moment to think before continuing.
"You have not said how you came here."
"I'm sorry?"
"The blast that opened the first fracture in the cosmos, where the key disappeared to. You followed its path."
"That's right." She nodded, looking straight ahead.
"A realm so far away that Endless do not reach it. You managed to open it again to follow the key."
It took her a second to realise what he was implying - she turned her head sharply towards him with a stunned look before bursting into laughter.
"No, I would not be able to open it again. There were a lot of factors aligning just right for us to be able to do that in the first place."
He stayed silent, clearly indicating that she should keep talking.
"We had some help. Someone pulled some strings from this side, we did what we could from ours, and thankfully, that seemed to have been enough. A bit of a gamble, and it didn't work as well as I hoped, but it got me here. And it was the only solution we had at the time." She looked at him watching her. "No, I cannot tell you who."
He full-on glared at her at that, but she had to stand her ground. Morpheus turned his head sharply back ahead of him, and they continued in silence for a long while.
He really was far from ecstatic about deliberately being kept out of the loop. Especially when he already offered to help. There were so many things this woman was keeping from him about the whole situation that he had to actively work to keep his displeasure at bay. And he was not known to let things go. No, if anything, he was known to be temperamental, to put it nicely.
Morpheus took a couple of minutes to centre himself again. That's fine, if she won't tell him, he will find out by himself. He was more than capable.
"You came injured," he finally muttered, silently agreeing to change the subject. Her shoulders relaxed a bit at that.
"Yes, we um... ran into some complications along the way. My home has not been a peaceful place for a while, especially with everyone trying to find and unlock the book. We don't really have much time for recovery, especially the closer we get to the key."
"Your injuries were not minor." Morpheus wanted to know if she was aware of the confusion surrounding her stab wound. When she remained silent, he continued. "Healers had trouble with some of the mending work."
"Yes, I imagine so," she nodded. "I'm really impressed with the work they've done, though! I'm sure it wasn't easy."
"Why was the injury giving them trouble?" He refused to let this go.
She remained silent, thinking over her words.
"Because the dagger that nicked me was marked with one of the runes from the book," she finally said and looked back at him from the corner of her eye. Something flashed in his eyes, but it was long gone before she could try to identify the emotion.
"Explain."
"Before the true power of the runes in there came to light, some of the pages were seen. The rune that was embedded in the dagger that nicked me makes the injury difficult to heal. A little bit like poison would slow the effect of natural healing and spread through the blood without the antidote. Deadly if untreated, but not impossible to overcome, given there is available help."
He gave it a moment's thought. Adequate help is rarely available everywhere, and, if it works similarly to poison, a weapon embedded with a rune would be difficult to notice immediately, much less get properly treated. Something like that, in a battle, would surely prove deadly.
It would also explain why Lucienne was not able to find much information on this so far.
"This can be applied to other weapons, then."
She nodded. "And it's just one of the runes. I can't imagine what else is hidden." She frowned and bit the side of her tongue.
They walked the rest of the way back in silence, both deep in thought.
When they returned to the castle, Dream walked her through the twisting hallways leading to a reading room. The library was just up ahead, behind the arching, tall doorway, and she could just glimpse the vastness of it.
He introduced her to Lucienne, who, turns out, was the same woman she saw first thing when waking up. Her smile was warm, but with the edge of professionalism, large spectacles hanging on the tip of her nose.
Lucienne stood with her hands clasped in front of her, listening intently. She gave a quick recap of what she already told Morpheus earlier - everything that had happened and how she ended up in the Dreaming.
Apparently, they have started some research already while she was unconscious. They started by digging into various weapons that could have caused the damage it did, but since that did not lead them anywhere, they expanded to poisons and forbidden spells that were not commonly known.
"What are we looking for now, My Lord?" Lucienne redirected her attention back to Dream Lord.
Morpheus remained silent. He was watching the newcomer intently, and she took that as her cue to take over.
"If the key broke, it might make it easier to locate it than if it had remained intact. Wherever the pieces landed, it would cause some unrest, as it would not be able to blend in with the local environment. I'm talking unexplained phenomena, strange weather patterns, sudden changes in terrain, anything that could be considered a supernatural occurrence."
Lucienne nodded her head in understanding and turned towards the library.
"Let's start with the Waking World, and we can move on to other realm reports afterwards."
They did have the most information on the Waking World after all, so it was the most logical place to start. Morpheus gave an approving nod, agreeing to the proposed course of action, and turned his back to them. He had duties to attend to.
She smiled at the librarian and followed after her. She stepped through the high arched doorway and stopped dead in her tracks. The library was indescribable. Shelves were stretching as far as she could see, completely stuffed with books in different colours and sizes. They were going up as high as her eye could reach, and further up still - it looked never-ending with the whole place having no ceiling. The absolute vastness of it... It was hard to put it into words or thoughts.
Lucienne cleared her throat gently, and she snapped out of her stupor. She gave the librarian a sheepish smile and hurried up to catch us.
In no time, both women were diving deep into their research. Soon, they sat surrounded by the piles of reports on top of different piles of reports, covering several desks they were using.
Morpheus was peculiar. She really couldn't find a better word to describe him. Absolutely not what she expected from the stories she heard of him, and just... unpredictable in the weirdest ways.
That's the only thought that kept circling in her head the following day as the two of them strolled down the path in Dreaming again.
When he showed up in her room shortly after she took her first sips of coffee, she just assumed he wanted an update on how far along they were in their research. She and Lucienne spent hours going through reports from the Waking World, and they started to gather some good leads. Nothing concrete just yet, but it looked like they were making progress.
Morpheus just nodded his head like he was already aware of how far along they had made it, and she had to admit that he probably did. She wasn't entirely sure how his realm worked, but if not that, then Lucienne most likely reported everything back.
"You are required daily movement to help with the healing," he said in his deep voice and turned to the side, expecting her to follow.
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. She knew that, logically, sitting in one spot would definitely not speed up her healing. And if she was honest with herself, she was planning on doing just that - spending the full day on research. And, maybe, to compensate for that by doing some light stretches. But this could work as well.
"Are we going back to the beach?" She asked, making her way over to Dream.
"If you wish it," he responded, watching her walk towards him. She hummed in thought.
"Anywhere works," she smiled back at him, now standing within arm's reach. She was more prepared for the twisting of her surroundings this time, but her hand still shot out to hold on to his in support. From this close, she could see his eyes much better. They were not simply bottomless pools of black void. No, it was more than that. Little flecks of silver seemed to be scattered all throughout the irises, different in brightness and size.
Galaxies. She felt like she was staring at the open sky in the middle of the night, getting lost in different constellations.
It was hard to take her eyes away from him.
She finally snapped out of it when she felt his arm twitch just the slightest under her fingers, still clutching to his coat. She cleared her throat awkwardly and stepped away in haste. She turned to look around herself at her new surroundings, hoping he could not see the heat crawling up her neck.
They seem to be on a mountainside this time. She could see from up here, just on her left, the black sand beach stretching endlessly, clouds covering the peaks of mountaintops on her left. Snow-capped hills on one side, with sharp black stones peaking out from underneath. On the other side, vast fields with grass gently blowing in the breeze, in such a deep shade of green that it made it look plush.
She was mesmerised.
"Thank you for taking me here, Dream of the Endless." She turned back to him and smiled, grateful.
His eyes were already on her, heavy. He regarded her for a moment, then nodded and moved closer to her.
"Fiddlers Green." He said, eyes moving behind her to the scenery stretching before them. She turned back, facing the same direction.
"It's absolutely beautiful," she breathed out in awe.
He smirked in satisfaction.
"So, how does your realm work?" He lifted an eyebrow at her in question. "I mean, did you really make all of this yourself?"
"Of course. The Dreaming is me, and I am the Dreaming. Fields and mountains, seas and rivers. Skies and clouds. All that resides here, dreams, nightmares and other creations were crafted by me."
She let out a soft sound of astonishment. "Do you still create and expand your realm as you go? Is it very tiring to keep creating something this grand?"
"It is not for me." He said sharply and matter-of-factly, and she could just taste the tiny bit of arrogance born from centuries of creating things beyond anyone's imagination. "The Dreaming is always changing. The dreamers dream differently as time passes, and the Dreaming adapts with them." He held his head high, overlooking the fields stretching far ahead of them, every bit the royalty that he was.
She hummed in thought, and her hand moved subconsciously up towards her collarbones. She could feel the silver chain and the steady, familiar weight on her chest.
Morpheus turned back to her, indicating that they should start moving.
They walked leisurely in comfortable silence for a long while until they reached the small clearing. She had to lean against one of the rocks, the climbing down the hill putting more pressure on her side than she expected. Morpheus noticed her change in direction and stopped in his tracks as well.
"Thank you for keeping me company today, Dream of the Endless." She smiled at Dream, who was standing several steps away from her. "It's very kind of you."
He looked at her in confusion, a small frown on his lips. Dream of the Endless was not kind. He did not think of himself as kind, let alone know of anyone else thinking such absurdity.
What a strange woman...
"How does it feel?" She continued. He looked at her in confusion with a slightly raised eyebrow, and she had to clarify. "To create?"
Morpheus regarded her for a moment. It was not something he thought of consciously. And now that he thought of it, it was hard to put into appropriate words. How can anyone explain the full meaning of creating? Of pulling something deep from your mind into reality, shaping it and giving it life?
He looked at her for a moment longer before he made up his mind. Morpheus took a couple of steps forward and stood in front of her. He reached out a hand towards her, and her eyes flickered between his outstretched palm and his eyes in confusion.
"I thought you were curious," he commented with a hint of impatience in his voice.
She blinked back at him, absolutely astonished. Was he actually going to show her, a stranger he met just a couple of days ago, something so sacred?
She opened her mouth to ask, and then closed it right back when he sent her a glare. She hurriedly reached out towards him, and his glare eased a fraction, a muscle in his jaw ticking once.
"Every entity residing in the Dreaming is capable of creation, to an extent." Morpheus started and moved her hand to be palm up. His hand hovered back just under it.
"Picture something not intricate, something you're familiar with. An object you can hold, not too big. Think of the colour and shape. Does it have a smell? What does it feel like when you touch it? Is it soft, or is the surface rough? Is it heavy or light?" His low, rumbling voice wrapped around her.
She closed her eyes and tried to follow the instructions with curiosity. His deep voice guided her thoughts, and she tried picturing something simple in her palm. As realistically as possible, she pictured running her finger over the side, heat seeping through the smooth surface. Heavy, but not straining.
She opened her eyes, and her gaze instantly went to his face. He wasn't looking at her anymore, but rather looking down at their hands. She followed his line of sight and let out a gasp.
"This is... amazing..." she whispered under her breath, her eyes full of wonder. Her fingers wrapped around the smooth, polished surface of a steaming cup of coffee.
He looked from the deep blue mug speckled with minuscule silver dots now resting in the palm of her hand to her face, and a sense of pride filled his chest. She did remarkably well for a first time. It was not easy to create anything for the first time, but the mug seemed to be sturdy enough. Extraordinarily, it even held some kind of liquid, which he assumed from the smell wafting towards him was coffee, inside.
Phenomenal.
"Thank you for sharing this with me," her eyes crinkled in happiness, and she continued in a slightly teasing tone, "Dream of the Endless." That pulled him out of his thoughts, and Morpheus watched her mischievous smile.
"Call me Morpheus." He mumbles, eyes casting to the side, and jaw flexing. If she didn't know any better, she might have thought he was bashful.
"Alright, Morpheus." She smiled, his name rolling off her tongue in a smooth wave.
He fought a smirk from forming on his lips, but there was not much he could do about the wave of warmth spreading through his chest.
It became a sort of routine between them.
For the last couple of days, she would wake up, take a couple of sips of her coffee, and when she turned back, he would already be standing in her room. It seemed that the concept of personal space and boundaries did not really exist for the King of Dreams and Nightmares. She wondered if he had heard of knocking before.
"Are we off for our morning stroll?" She asked, humour lacing her obvious question. He remained impassive, dark cloak pooling at his feet.
"If you wish."
And they'd be off.
They would walk for an hour or so before returning to the castle and going their separate ways. She would meet with Lucienne in the reading room, and they would begin with their work until she felt her eyes filling with sandpaper and would have to call it a night. She wondered sometimes if anyone in the Dreaming slept at all.
"Why you?" He asked after a couple of minutes of walking in silence through a previously unexplored part of Fiddlers Green. She looked at him quizzically, not entirely sure what he meant. "You came here already injured. Why was your life put at risk for this?"
She averted her eyes from him and towards the road ahead.
"There are those who cannot or would not leave. I'm not really one of them anymore," she spoke slowly, her hand tracing the chain around her neck.
His eyes caught on the action that she seemed to repeat subconsciously when in deep thought. The silver chain held a closed locket of some kind and a simple band ring. The ring looked well-worn, but clearly, a lot of care had been put into maintaining it. The sentimentality behind this showed great love for it. Locket looked like a newer addition.
"You keep touching your necklace," Dream mentioned, looking at her from the corner of his eye.
She looked down sheepishly at her fingers still tracing the silver chain.
"One is a gift. Another a... memory," her voice was fond, and she put the necklace back under her shirt and looked back at him.
"You must miss them dearly," Morpheus mumbled, looking away from her.
"I do. But going back home isn't going to change that." He turned back to her, and she looked him deep in the eyes. Realisation hit him in a belly-churning unease, and he swallowed before speaking again.
"My condolences." Dream spoke, face serious and gaze unflinching.
"Thank you." She nodded, and they looked at each other for a brief second longer. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again, having thought better of it.
"We need not speak of a subject that brings pain," Morpheus spoke with finality, ready to drop the subject that was clearly making them both uneasy.
The smile she sent his way was a bit forced, but she was grateful that he seemed content not to push the subject if she preferred.
"That's kind of you, but it's alright. I don't mind talking about people who are dear to me. I think everyone should," she smiled and turned to him. Her fingers grazed over the pendant on her chest, and his eyes dropped to her fingers momentarily. "Plus, it's been a while. I've learned how to live with it."
Dream was curious. He hoped she would continue talking, if she was willing to, but she decided not to. She was still trying to figure Morpheus out, after all. How much of herself should she share with him? How much could she?
"What about you? Do you have someone with you?" She hasn't seen many occupants in the castle, other than Lucienne and other various creatures working there.
He was silent for a long time. His first instinct was to scoff in indignation and deflect righteously - he was under no obligation to divulge his personal matters to this woman. And she had no right to ask either. His back was rigid, shoulders tense.
She was starting to think that he wasn't going to entertain this conversation anymore, before she heard a soft reply.
"Not for a long time now." She smiled sadly at the ground, and they lapsed into silence.
She knew he was not isolated. He seemed to trust Lucienne a lot, from what little interactions she observed over the last couple of days, and the librarian, in return, looked after Dream in small, barely noticeable ways. She had a feeling anything more would have been rejected by Morpheus, taking offence. He also seemed like the type not to let anyone close. Combine that with an Endless existence, which was being touched by so many dreamers passing by every single minute of every day, but none of them actually staying...
She could not fathom how lonely he must feel, every once in a while. She wanted to ask more, to understand him better. He was just so different from the picture she had of him in her mind.
He did not seem like a sharing type, though. Especially with someone he just met. She really should just be happy that he was willing to share as much of himself as he already did. Which, again, was more than she expected.
They continued to walk for a while, neither saying anything to the other, until she stepped to the side and bumped her shoulder with his arm.
He turned to look down at her, a muscle in his jaw flexing with agitation, a question on the tip of his tongue. She only smiled at him mischievously, trying to break the tense atmosphere surrounding them. She hurried a couple of steps ahead of him, the castle coming up in view.
"You know, you're not nearly as bad as I was told you would be." She told him over her shoulder, barely holding back a wide smile.
Dream blinked, confused.
He could feel the tension seep away slowly, but steadily from him as he followed her down the winding path back towards the castle.
Warnings - Violence and slight gore, panic attack, depictions of suffocation and drowning, injuries
Words - 5,258
Crossposted on AO3 for easier reading here.
A/N - Happy Friday!
Thanks so much, everyone, for reading the prologue, it means the world to me! Because I have absolutely no chill, this story is turning out to be a bit of a beast.. Let me know your thoughts 💚Apologies for any mistakes, English is not my native language.
This absolute darkness was nothing but oppressive.
The kind that made it impossible to tell when her eyes were open, and when they were closed. The one where you would wait for your eyes to adjust and start seeing corners and shapes of objects around you, just somewhat lighter than dark, with slight shadows behind them giving them away, but nothing really happens. No matter how many times you blink or rub your eyes. Either that, or there's absolutely nothing around her, other than absolute emptiness.
The feeling seems to wrap around her mind. Clawing at her throat and dragging her down, drowning her, squeezing the life out, and freezing her lungs. It was suffocating. More and more so as the time passed.
She kept her hands in front of her, even if she couldn't see them, trying to feel for any obstacle. She couldn't feel anything, and she wasn't even sure how long she had walked like this. Time didn't seem to have a meaning here.
Right until she stepped off a ledge and plunged into freezing water below.
The dream healers worked swiftly to close the cut on her head, which, by the looks of it, started to clot. They meticulously ripped through her shredded clothes to tend to the lacerations on her body and mend the broken bones. There was definitely some internal bleeding, which one of the healers was currently focusing on, hands hovering above her and glowing faintly. The rest were working on the deep cut on the woman's side.
Morpheus stood away from the bed they were currently surrounding. He left ample space to be out of their way, but still close enough to have his eyes on the situation.
This was peculiar, to say the least. Dream healers were among the best in the universe, regarded with a godly reverence. They have brought deities from the brink of death, even after sustaining nightmarish injuries. It should not be this difficult. It shouldn't take this much.
His frown deepened when one of the silver-cloaked figures stepped away from the bed that the woman was currently lying in and glided towards him.
''My Lord.'' They bowed deeply, and Morpheus inclined his head back in greeting. ''We have stopped the internal bleeding that started when the dreamer's broken rib nicked her lung. The bones are reset now and should be mended shortly.''
Morpheus's eyes flicked from the healer back to the woman surrounded by a flurry of healers. He turned back, waiting for the medic to continue.
''It appears we have encountered a curious case, unfortunately. Most of the injuries that the dreamer suffers from were sustained somewhere else. The wound on her side seems to be particularly deep, and it would not have happened because of a fall. It appears to be deliberately made with a weapon. Because of its depth and position, we've taken longer to clean it, and the mending seems to be hindered. She seems to have been wounded with a tainted weapon, most likely.''
''A tainted weapon?'' The crease between his eyebrows was deepening.
''Yes, my lord. From the injury, I would say most likely a dagger, or something similar. Whoever wounded the dreamer appears to have laced it with a substance that is interfering with our healing.'' The dream healer lowered their head in silent apology.
Morpheus looked back at the unconscious woman. A weapon that was laced with something preventing the wound from being treated by dream healers? That was alarming. His mind ran a mile a minute, trying to think of who could have done this and how. None that he could think of made any sense.
The dream healer stood in silence for a minute longer before bowing deeply and returning to the woman in bed. Morpheus knew they will do all that is possible at this time, but it didn't make the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach settle.
The fight raged all around. Beings screaming over one another, be it in agony or triumph, there wasn't much of a difference from where she stood. Her eyes were still stinging, and she kept trying to clear them of the blurriness, but nothing much was working. The night was settling steadily all around them, casting parts of the hillside in shadows, hiding unimaginable horrors.
Maybe not seeing was a little bit of a blessing in disguise as well?
To her right, she could hear someone's sobs turn to desperate gasps for air.
She felt fingers wrapping around her ankle in a vice grip and flinched back. Someone was holding on to her, but she could not make out their face. She tried to take a step back, but the hand clawed at her desperately, nails tearing through her clothes, digging deep into her skin and drawing blood.
She hissed in pain and tried to get her leg free from whoever was tearing at her, but they kept trying to reach higher and higher. She lost her balance after a strong tug, falling backwards, and used her other leg to kick at whoever was dragging her. She could feel her boot missing her target completely a couple of times, reaching nothing but empty air. Her vision was slowly returning until she managed to aim her free leg in the right direction.
She could not see their face, which made it a fraction easier in a sense.
Her boot finally hit the target, heel meeting soft and squishy flesh. Kick after kick, until whatever was under her foot crunched and the grip on her loosened. She used that opportunity to drag herself away and up, consciously trying to ignore the slippery and hot sensation she felt covering her leg.
Surprisingly, she realised that all of this was just... getting easier. She didn't want it to get easier, but after a while, she noticed that her gaze lingered less on the faces, eye colour, smell, or any identifiable or distinct things. A crooked tooth, a scar running across an eyebrow, a barely visible tattoo, just peeking over the collar.
She didn't get stuck in her mind as much either, thinking and spiralling out of control like she used to. She noticed that she put less and less thought into all of this. And that, perhaps, was one of the scariest realisations she had about herself.
Disassociating was becoming her second nature at this point.
It took healers a while longer until they had to call it a day. The deep wound on her side was closed to a temporary satisfaction, and Morpheus was assured that it was no longer life-threatening. Dream healers retreated, but they would be back again in a couple of hours to continue with the work and check on the progress.
They took some blood samples from her side wound and were running some tests. With some luck, they might be able to narrow down what they were dealing with - was it actually a weapon laced with something, poison, or something else that they haven't even considered yet.
Morpheus was standing by her bedside. He spent the last couple of hours in the library researching what he could find about known weapons that could have inflicted a wound like this. Lucienne was still collecting older tomes from the sections of the library that were rarely visited. So far, they have not had much success, unfortunately.
Curiosity was eating him alive.
This woman was injured by something that was made to kill off ancient beings. He needed to figure this out.
Dream healers washed, patched up, or redressed the injuries littering the rest of her body. The gash on her head was stitched back up, and the rest were healing slowly, which was a good sign. Broken bones mended back and would not be causing any issues, apart from a slight ache and heaviness for a while longer once she wakes up. They changed her bloodied and ripped clothes as well, and she almost looked content in the chamber he left her in, with dimmed lights casting the area in a soft glow.
His fingers twitched with the sudden urge to brush her hair back from her face.
She will be unconscious for a while longer, so there was no need for him to keep an eye on her right now.
He turned and walked back to the library.
She inhaled deeply and tried to steady her heart, which was currently trying to beat right out of her chest. A sharp, metallic air mixed with smoke and sulphur dragged through her lungs, settling deep inside her gut and clinging to her skin.
She needed to find him, and fast. This needs to stop, once and for all. She knew where the key was, and if he had managed to build the box already, they could just end it.
Someone bumped into her shoulder, running the opposite way, and she stumbled, but she managed to keep her footing. Her hands were shaking, and there was that weird fluttery sensation at the pit of her stomach. Cold chills were running down her arms and spine. Despite all the gore and horror surrounding her, her steps did not falter. She did not waver.
She has been asleep for days now.
Morpheus tried looking for information on the weapons in the library together with Lucienne, but that seemed like a never-ending list of disappointments. There were so many weapons created from the beginning of time that it was hardly possible to sort through them all. Man-made weapons to kill men, God-made weapons to kill Gods, God-made for people, and man-made to destroy Gods.
It's as if both people and Gods only found joy in either killing each other or fucking.
While Lucienne was going through the never-ending list of daggers, trying to sort the ledgers into specific groups by type, Dream tried to approach this from a different direction. Surely, if he could find her book in his library, there should be some clues as to what happened. Or at least give them some indication of where to start.
The problem was that Lucienne had a complicated filing system, to say the least. Not something he could not figure out, of course. He just needed to look into it properly, and he was sure he would get the hang of it. He just didn't have the time to do it.
And he refused to ask for help. After all, how hard could it be?
Morpheus browsed through the never-ending shelves and stacks of books, trying to find it. It did not help that there was no logical filing system in place. Either that, or there were multiple ones that were overlapping.
He did find a lot of things he meant to look into at some point. So really, it was a win in retrospect.
What frustrated him more, though, was that his newest guest's book was nowhere to be found.
Which was, of course, impossible. Every single being in the cosmos who sleeps has their book in his library. That woman was currently unconscious and in deep sleep, so obviously, she fit the category.
Dream looked down and watched her face contort in discomfort, then pain, and finally scrunch up in fear. Her fingers twitched then and now, breath coming in shorter gasps.
She was having a nightmare.
The dream healers had left for the day, and she was no longer in life-threatening danger, but she wasn't showing any signs of waking up yet. He frowned.
Whatever she was seeing in her unconscious mind, it seemed like it was causing her to thrash in her bed. Which wasn't great, given that she could reopen her injuries in her distress.
He sighted and leaned down. He did not like interfering with anyone's dreams. All of his dreams and nightmares were created with a purpose, and the person dreaming them had to have them for one reason or another. It didn't matter if they were pleasant, scary, or downright disturbing - all of them had a meaning.
He will have to make an exception here, though, if he wants this woman to wake up already and answer his questions. She would aggravate her injuries if she continues like this.
Dream reached out his hand and used some of his magic to move the nightmare away. He stood by the bed, with his fingers splayed in the air, looking down at her for a long while before he realised that nothing had changed. She let out another whimper in fear.
He blinked once. Then twice. Used his power to dig deeper into the persistent nightmare, but he could not find it.
Morpheus stood frozen over the strange woman, staring at her with wide, shocked eyes.
Out of everything she found out about the world, universe, cosmos, and herself in the last century or so, it was really humbling to sit down and hear that story. Of course, she knew fragments that he let slip here and there, or the ones he shared when he was feeling sentimental enough to remember. Some soft and fragile moments, some close to the heart, but all buried deep and rarely revisited.
She listened like she always did when he spoke of it, with a small smile on her lips and eyes crinkling at the corners.
She really didn't expect to be a part of that world at some point.
The first thing she felt when she started to come around was that her throat was absolutely killing her. It felt like she swallowed a whole roll of sandpaper and then poured a generous dose of cayenne pepper into the open flesh. She tried swallowing to, hopefully, soothe her throat enough to be able to inhale deeper, but it only caused her to be thrown into a coughing fit. It started with a deep gasp that ripped the remaining oxygen straight from her lungs, and she flung her body to the side, trying in vain to curl into herself and subdue the coughs. It proved to be an even bigger mistake. Her side flared in flaming hot pain, searing through her whole body and settling deep in the bones. It was so raw and sudden, she tried gasping for breath, only to worsen her cough.
She managed to get the coughing slightly under control, just enough to inhale, when a hand holding a tall glass of water moved in her line of sight. She watched the clear glass, then let her eyes trail up the hand holding it up until she made eye contact with a woman. Her large spectacles were hanging precariously on the bridge of her nose, her face set into a neutral expression. Not affectionate, but not cruel either.
They looked at each other for a moment longer before the woman pushed a glass of water closer to her.
''Take small sips, please, so you don't aggravate your wounds further.'' The woman told her not unkindly, and she took the glass from her hand. She gave it a cursory sniff, then pressed the rim to her lips.
The lukewarm water felt like a divine blessing, and she managed to down all of it in no time. She chanced a look around for a moment, and the woman poured more water into her glass.
''Thank you.'' She whispered softly, trying not to aggravate her throat and save herself from another coughing fit.
The woman gave her a small, polite smile, watching her intently. There was a beat of silence following.
''My name is Lucienne,'' she started and nodded her head slightly. ''I will let the Lord know that you woke up.'' Lucienne didn't wait for a response. Her steps did not make a sound when she walked to the exit, closing the doors behind her with a soft click.
She needed to find out where she was, and fast. Her eyes scanned the room she was currently in, but could not find anything to give her a clue. The room was shrouded in a soothing glow from burning candles, but otherwise covered in soft shadows. It had nothing distinctive, and the window outside only illuminated a grey, cloudy sky.
She was eternally grateful for the shadows covering the room. It took her eyes a remarkably shorter time to adjust, and she felt slightly more comfortable.
I guess it could be worse, she thought. This whole place could be lit up like a hospital.
Whoever found her, they tended to her wounds with care and clearly spent some time on the deep stab wound still present on her side. It wasn't healed just yet, but she could see that it was well on its way. She definitely felt like she was in desperate need of a bath, but most of the grime and blood had been scrubbed from the skin that she could see. Which was more than she could've asked for.
Her thoughts were cut short when she felt a presence in the room with her. She turned her head to the left, and her eyes met seemingly bottomless black pools. Her breath froze in her lungs, and she sat completely still, back straight to the headboard. The stranger was watching her with a steady, hard gaze of someone so otherworldly and divine that she felt the need to avert her eyes.
''You have awakened.'' His voice reverberated through the walls in the quiet of the room. Her eyes took in his figure and tried to piece together the small snippets of information that she could gather. Anything to have a little bit of an edge to help her out here.
The dark cloak that he wore, pale complexion with skin that looked paper-thin, dark, messy bed hair, and a stony expression. Her last memories came back in small flashes, and she recalled a black sandy beach next to the endless waters she was so tempted by.
Dread washed through her in cold waves. Of all the realms...
Morpheus watched her carefully. She was clearly in pain, her hand still holding the side that the dream healers had worked on again just hours ago. Her back and shoulders were tense, in clear alarm, and she looked ready to bolt right out the window.
''You need not fear me.'' He tried soothing her clear anxiousness, although he wasn't sure why he went the extra mile. It hardly mattered if she was uncomfortable in his presence, and most beings already had a healthy dose of fear for him to begin with. ''I grant you protection in the Dreaming.''
She swallowed, her shoulders slumping forward, some of the tension seeping out. She drank the rest of the water still left in her glass, then put it on the small table by her bedside. Then, she leaned back against her headboard and pulled the blanket up to cover her wounded stomach.
''Thank you,'' she started, glancing back at him. ''I'm... guessing you have some questions...''
He lifted an eyebrow slightly. ''As do you.''
Her lips twitched in amusement.
''I thank you for your hospitality, Dream of the Endless,'' she nodded her head in thanks. His eyes narrowed a fraction at her. He lifted his chin up, and he took a step forward.
''You are aware of who I am. Then you must be aware that you trespassed in my realm.''
Right to the point, huh.
''I am. And I apologise for the intrusion; it was not my intention to come crashing into your realm like that. Trust me,'' she muttered the last part under her breath, but knew he heard her well.
His face did not change or give any emotion away, apart from the slight suspicion flashing briefly in his eyes. They were both silent for a moment until she sighed.
'I assume you have some questions.'' She repeated, and her lips twitched into a knowing smirk. ''I'm happy to explain as much as I can.''
He did not miss that she did not promise to explain everything, but Dream inclined his head once, indicating that he was listening. She gestured her hand towards the empty chair next to the bed, silently asking him to take a seat.
Morpheus's eyes slowly moved from her face and followed her hand, outstretched to the soft chair not too far from the bed. His gaze lingered there for a moment before he turned back to her. He blinked once, then twice, trying to understand why, exactly, was this woman giving him instructions in his own realm. A moment of awkward silence stretched between them - she was watching him expectantly, and Dream was looking at her with a stumped expression that was slowly turning to incredulity.
She lowered her hand back down after a moment longer, muttering a soft ''Alright then,'' under her nose, and sat up straighter in her bed. She cleared her throat and started with a slight hesitation.
''We couldn't know precisely where the rip would open, and there wasn't much time for a heads-up either. I'm sorry, Dream of the Endless, for a sudden intrusion. I hope I have not caused too much harm.''
The way she was addressing him by his full title, Dream of the Endless, sounded strangely wrong in his head, but he couldn't put his finger on why.
''Why are you here? Who are you running from?''
''I am not running from anyone,'' she furrowed her eyebrows. ''I'm here in search of something.'' There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. His gaze heavy on her. ''There is someone out there who can cause great harm to my home. With the help of some-'' she hoped he did not notice her momentary pause at the word.'' entities, we're able to keep the peace, but that is not a permanent solution.''
''Explain.'' She sighed before continuing.
''Story as old as time - someone was not happy with something, they rebelled and failed, but it triggered a chain reaction. Unfortunately, at some point during that time, something very dangerous was proven to be real.'' She paused. ''There is a very old and very lethal book with a lot of forbidden runes. They can be used for a lot of things; no one really knows the full extent. But if it falls into the wrong hands... well, it would mean a lot of death and destruction.'' She paused and glanced up at his face. He was watching her intently, gaze heavy. Dream was clearly looking for some signs of lies from her, but so far, he could not feel anything. ''We couldn't allow that to happen.''
''The book is protected, thankfully. The last people looking after it wanted to make sure that it would not fall into the wrong hands, so the book can only be opened with a key of sorts. We had the book for a long time, and the key was found by accident. We couldn't risk both the book and the key being found, and it was only a matter of time before the news spread. In the end, we tried to destroy the key so that the book would not be usable ever, but it backfired. I think we triggered a safety mechanism of some kind, I'm not sure. We didn't really have the time to look into it, really.''
''Everything just... started spiralling from then on. It was about to detonate, taking all of us in the area out at the same time, but my friend managed to contain the blast and redirect it instead. A rip opened and swallowed the key before we could react.'' She shook her head lightly and gave a sardonic smile, incredulous at their own failings. How naïve were they, really, to believe it would be this easy? ''It sent a ripple in its path, though. Luckily. We managed to track it down, and I was sent here to find and either bring it back or destroy it.' She kept her tone of voice as matter-of-fact as she could.
She had to be careful with her wording for the next part. She gave a very brief overview of why she was where she was and what led to all of this, but she also left out a lot of important details. She knew Dream of the Endless was no fool and had caught up to her purposely skimming over details. She had to pick her words very carefully not to reveal something he could not know.
''You speak in riddles, but that is an interesting story.'' He told her after a while.
''I wish it were a story.''
''I have not heard of a realm which would currently be in a power struggle.'' He wasn't asking the questions that were burning on the tip of his tongue yet.
''I'm not surprised. The realm I call home is too far away. Endless cannot reach us there.''
He couldn't help but scoff at that.
''That is absurd. There is no such place in the entire cosmos that my siblings and I cannot reach.'' He said it like it's an absolutely indisputable fact that left no room for any type of argument.
''I'm not lying. There's a reason why you won't find me in your library either.''
His eyes widened, mouth parting in shock. He quickly shook it off, and his face morphed into anger. She pursed her lips, fighting off a smile. He was, surprisingly, pretty expressive when you knew where to look.
''You already tried, haven't you?'' He did not respond. Instead, he glanced at her side, where her hand was still covering the bandaged wound. It wasn't hurting that much anymore when she wasn't moving, but it felt good to have some kind of imagined control and assurance that her guts weren't spilling out.
''You arrived here injured.'' He said instead. It wasn't a question, but she regarded it as such.
''Yes. Someone tried to stop me from following the key.''
She could see that Dream was getting frustrated, just slightly.
''You are very careful not to mention names.''
Her lips twitched into a smirk, and she nodded.
''I have to.'' His gaze on her was heavy and suffocating. He did not look amused, but he refused to ask either. ''I'm sorry, I can't tell you everything. There are a lot of lives at stake here, and I must be careful with the information I share.''
He clenched his jaw, and she could see the muscle there twitch in agitation.
''I have granted you protection in my realm. You are to speak freely here.'' He insisted.
''I cannot tell you,'' she replied stubbornly, her shoulders tensing. He did not look happy with the answer, but figured he would have to work with what he had so far and get his answers another way. She might not realise it, but she did reveal a lot already.
His attention turned back to her when she shifted in bed and pulled her knees up. She flexed her legs and shoulder muscles to check for any other injuries she should be aware of, and slid towards the edge of the bed. Her bare feet touched the cold floor when his voice reached her again.
''You are not healed yet.''
She lifted her head to look at him.
''Not fully, no. But I'm overstaying my welcome, and I should get back to what I came here for.''
He regarded her for a moment before speaking.
''You are to stay in the Dreaming, under my supervision, until further notice.'' She had to scoff at that.
''Are you holding me hostage here?''
''Must I?'' He tilted his head slightly in question.
A smile spreading through her face, wide and bright and amused for reasons he could not understand, was the last thing he expected her to do. But she smiled, looking genuinely delighted, and leaned back against the headboard. She looked at him for a moment longer, her eyes trailing slowly from his eyes to his sharp nose and full lips, down his face and neck, over his visible collarbones and black clad chest. Down his torso and hips, over his legs and feet, and back up slowly. He felt like she was seizing him up, and it left an unusual urge to fidget in place. He shook it off just as quickly and glared at her in return.
Her smile widened, edges turning wicked. He clenched his jaw and turned on his heel to storm off. He had better things to do anyway than to entertain that woman any longer.
He will get to the bottom of this, he was sure of it. But first, he needed to get some things verified.
''Thank you for coming here, brother,'' Destiny spoke from behind Dream and nodded in greeting. It would have been a strange thing to say, since Dream was the one who requested to meet with his older brother. But then again, Destiny has probably already read about this meeting in his Book of Destiny.
''I suppose you know why I called for you.''
Destiny said nothing, just turned to his left, and started walking down a path in the maze, with Morpheus following right after. He could not tell whether they were going deeper towards the centre or out of it. Wasn't even sure if there was an out designed. Not that it mattered, really.
They lapsed into a relatively comfortable silence. It would have lasted for much longer if only Dream hadn't been brimming with unanswered questions for days now.
''I have come to you for guidance.'' He started. ''I have a visitor in my realm. She came uninvited and injured. Once awoken, spoke of grand things. I must know if what was said is true. She spoke of a realm not touched by Endless. I have not heard of a realm or a place in the cosmos where we could not reach.''
Destiny gave a slight nod in indication that he was listening.
''Yet you can't find her book in your library.''
''No, I cannot.'' Dream confirmed, his jaw clenching at the reminder.
Destiny continues forward, and the hood covering his head keeps his expression from Morpheus hidden.
''Everyone is where they are supposed to be right now.''
Dream startled at the easy admission.
''So, she does not lie?'' He checked, making sure, but Destiny remained quiet. ''It is not possible for a realm such as that to exist. How? And why?'' He frowned in confusion.
''There are things not written, brother, not even in the Book of Destiny,'' Destiny mumbled. After so many eons, Dream could say that he knew his brother relatively well. Right now, he was sure that Destiny was having a hard time accepting these new events, same as him.
They walked in silence for a while longer, both seemingly deep in thought.
''Does she pose a threat?'' Morpheus asked, figuring that would be the most pressing question at this time.
''There are different paths now written. Each path leads to a different outcome.''
''Brother.'' He sighed impatiently. There was a lot at stake here, and he did not want to be left to interpret fates. Destiny turned to look at his brother, hood falling backwards to uncover his face.
''She will not bring harm to the realms, brother. Not as long as she succeeds in fulfilling her duties.'' They looked at each other, carefully sorting through words that were not said out loud.
''She came here with a purpose, and she must fulfil it.'' Morpheus knew what Destiny meant by this.
Her failing will bring devastation. Realms will fall.
Soooo, I wanted to play around with the idea of Dream not being all-knowing and all-powerful, and try to even out the dynamic a touch to see how it would go, aaand we ended up here lol
Let me know your thoughts, and if you want to be added to the story tag list, drop a comment or send me a message 💚
