Dreamling, 49 please! 👀👀
kiss prompts, #49 …out of necessity.
this is a ficlet that will be shoved into my "hiatus/backburnered" folder because I couldn't fit it into any existing WIPs and I want to finish some more before I start adding others...
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Dream lies slack, robes torn and mudstained from where he got pulled from a thorn ring of the Fae, but someone's cleaned his pallid face.
"He won't wake up," Lucienne says.
Hob's heart seizes.
Dream is so still, lying on Hob's bed. Dream's frequently quiet and unfidgeting, but there's usually still a charged energy around him where he forces Waking reality to accept a form of fantasy and dreams. He's also usually not as translucent in places.
"I believe narrative work is at play," she adds.
"Narrative work?"
"The Fae work not just in glamours, but stories and narrative compulsion. Lord Morpheus is dreams, stories. They have forced narratives upon him."
"Fairy tales," Hob murmurs. "So."
"I thought true love's kiss might work."
"But - I'm not - we're not..."
She gives him a pitying look. "Don't lie to yourself. Not about this."
Hob looks down at Dream, who is comatose and almost - fading, and takes a breath. He leans down and kisses Dream's forehead, which is like ice.
Dream's body spasms, and he coughs, chokes on a sudden breath, and his eyes flood wide and black with stars. "Hob?"
"Welcome back," Hob says, daring to reach out and hold Dream's hand.










