The Immortal and The Star
"It saddens me that his passing disheartens you so."
Hob turns, and indeed, Daniel was there, just a couple of steps behind him. Respectful. Unfamiliar. Guilty. The two of them are on the bridge modeled after the Golden Bridge in Vietnam (or was the designer the one who modeled the bridge after the one in their dreams?) and the water beneath is dark as tar, with glowing, ghostly fish trailing phosphorescence behind them.
"It's not your fault," he says, because it isn't. Not really. And according to Death, the first block of the domino of Dream's doom fell more a millenia ago. "It isn't even really his."
Daniel tilts his head. Like a bird. Or a child. Hob is reminded that though he is now Dream of the Endless, Daniel is still very young. Hob feels ancient in his presence. "Then whose fault is it?"
Hob turns away. It doesn't hurt to look at Daniel, but he'd rather face the star that was Dream. His Dream. Morpheus. It--he shines brightly in the sky, visible only in dreams. Hence Hob's constant visits to the Dreaming. Daniel has given him special access to come and go as he wish, without relying on other dreams or nightmares to show him the way. It is better, after Hob tried to murder a dream of a shadow that looked too much like Morpheus. "Does it matter? Will knowing change the fact that he is gone?"
It hurts. It hurts.
"No." A pause. "But..there must be something I can do. For you. To ease your pain."
Hob smiles, bitter and harsh, as he remembers the decades after his son died an unfair death in the same tavern where he meets with Dream. The foggy memories, the gnawing hunger, the darkness burrowing in his chest, the ghost of his son waiting for him in 1689. "The thing with pain is, the only thing you can do about it is wait for it to end."
"Is there no medicine for this?"
Hob chuckles. Daniel has big shoes to fill. But he is kind, and helpful. The dreams and nightmares he rules over grow fonder of him as time goes by. Soon, he will be more beloved than his predecessor.
It shouldn't make the pain intensify. To know that Daniel will be loved and respected, all his subjects loyal and steadfast, always welcome wherever he goes. But it does. And it's unfair to both Daniel and Dream for Hob to think like this.
"I don't think so. And if there were..." He looks up, towards his Dream, Morpheus, the brightest star this side of waking. "I don't want it."
BONUS:
They stood in silence for minutes, perhaps hours, looking at the star of Morpheus, before Hob hears footsteps, sure and confident, coming towards them. It stops when it gets close, then a drawling voice says, "My lord. It's ten minutes 'til your audience."
"Corinthian." Daniel's voice, while chiding, is also unbearably fond. A gentle wind blowing soft petals across bare arms. "You need not have come so far to get me."
'You need not have come to my defense.'
'Clearly.'
"Eh. It's the same route I'm taking. It just so happens that you're here, too."
A quiet huff of air. A tone trying to be stern but failing miserably because of the affection felt by the speaker. "My nightmare. What kind of mischief are you up to now?"
Teasing. Familiar. "My lord, you wound me."
It hurts.
Hob's eyes sting and his throat closes up. He closes his eyes and focuses on breathing.
"Hob?"
Dream--Morpheus--never said his name like that. It's always in declarative. As if saying, I know who you are. You know me better than most. I know you are here for me.
You're a star in the heavens no mortal can reach. My voice will reach you only after thousands of years. And by then you'd be gone, leaving me with nothing but an echo of your light, because I'll still be waiting, wretched but alive, for any reply from you.
Hob looks behind him and sees Daniel, who looks concerned, and Corinthian, whose impassive face is betrayed only by his raised eyebrows. "Yeah?"
"I have to meet with my subjects. But if you need--"
"No, no, I'm fine," Hob says, waving away Daniel's worry. "I'm fine. Go do your duties. I'm good here."
Daniel does not believe him. But faced with his responsibilities, he knows which to choose. "Then we shall take our leave. Be well, Hob Gadling."
'Drink your wine, Hob Gadling.'
"Right," Hob says. Daniel nods, hesitant but sincere. Corinthian does the same, but curt and a little disrespectful. A nightmare is not kind to anyone except its maker. "I'll see you, yeah? Daniel, Corinthian."
Daniel smiles at him. It's very unlike Dream's small, shy smile. Daniel's smile makes him shine like the sun. Corinthian is helpless against the sight, his own lips turning upwards in response.
Hob feels nothing as he politely smiles back. A vague sense of friendliness, perhaps, but nothing more.
The two disappear in a swirl of sand. But not before Hob sees Daniel take Corinthian's arm, and the nightmare's quiet, "You okay?" murmured into the scant space between them.
Hob sighs and turns towards the sky again. Hands on the railing, face turned upward, eyes fixed on the brightest star like a sailor lost at sea, desperately wanting to come home.
