#teela writes

[teelagurl558]

pookie lemme see the adrian tepes x reader you have in your drafts plz 😔🙏🏻

Omg i didnt realize anybody actually wanted to read it💀

Its an OC fic so its not reader, but ive got a bunch drafted on my wattpad i could post later to here. I haven’t been writing lately but I’d love to get back into that one

[teelagurl558]

chapter nine || queen of nightmares

An old friend has called for help. Morpheus finds comfort in his bride, even in his worst moments.

masterlist

A/N: I’m so sorry it’s taken so long to get this part up guys. I won’t lie, it’ll be a wait for the next one too. I still plan on finishing the fic, but I’ve been working on a different project on my Wattpad and taking a little break. warning: discusses calliope’s abuse.

"Calliope."

It came out a broken gasp as the summons that held his full attention faded. Morpheus found himself staring into his wife's face, fearing her reaction to his outburst. He could feel her hands on his cheeks, and suddenly she blurred.

"Morpheus, are you hurt still?" Only concern laced her voice, seeing his eyes fill with silvery tears. The stars within them looked frightened. "I felt someone summon you, I think it echoed through the bond. No one's done that in a while, have they?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes and swallowing the lump in his now-dry throat. He had felt so much suffering in that plea. "You were the last to do so, back when we were courting. And none such as this with mortal methods in centuries."

"You said it was Calliope?" she asked softly, cradling his face so gently it pained him. He thought she must feel betrayed, must hate him for how freely his heart was given to those he loved still, for calling out his former wife's name while lying with her in the wake of consummating their own marriage. Morpheus tensed, bracing himself for outrage and rejection as he nodded.

Inanna felt it all, through their newly-forged connection, for he had not thought of it enough to guard how loud his feelings were. Every fear for her and their love twisting and writhing with his concern for Calliope echoed in the back of her mind. She pulled his head to her chest, fingers massaging through his hair soothingly.

"Shh, it's alright. Do you wish to go alone?"

There was no judgment in her tone, and his eyes flew open in shock. He thought for a moment, arms locking around her torso in anxiety. "I do not wish for you to feel betrayed."

"Sweet Morpheus. You forget that love is my domain," she reassured, lifting his chin so that he would look at her. "I have known since the beginning how you love. She was the mother of your child. I am not betrayed, darling, I know how you feel for me."

"How have I come to deserve you?" he sniffled, smiling a little. He kissed her in thanks, letting out a shaky breath. "I do not wish to go alone, and she despises me for... what happened to our son. But she has suffered horribly, and I do not wish it to pain you to see."

"Perhaps another woman would be welcome, darling. I can be there in strength for both of you."

Morpheus carefully lifted them both to their feet, waving a hand to summon their robes again. "Then let us go avenge her together."

They sat together silently, hand in hand, two pillars of strength who had faced so much torment in their long lives. Dream had let them be after arriving together, reassured his new wife would support his former one while he disappeared to take care of their pest.

"Does he know?" Calliope asked after a while, turning her gaze from where it lay out the window. "Does he know that you have been hurt like this too?"

Love, for all her strength as a herald of war, faltered a little with a sad smile, and a shake of her head. "No. Not entirely. He knows I have been often trapped in loveless marriages, but it did not feel right to give him this pain to bear."

"He has chosen you, my friend. He has chosen to bear your pains alongside you," Calliope protested, squeezing their interlocked fingers.

"He would seek revenge if I told him. I haven't even sought such violence for myself, and that is my way."

"It is not your way anymore. You have not gone that path in many years. He would, but he knows it would not change those wounds."

"I did," Love swallowed, narrowing her eyes out the window. "When he was captured, I... I was not often myself. I tore the place apart when I found him. I still feel that I should've reduced Wych Cross to a smoldering crater, that they could not have paid in enough blood. But it eats at me too, that I killed the humans who held him. It has barely been a week, I think. So much has happened since."

"Perhaps it was a mistake, perhaps they deserved it. Regardless, you are not a creature of war unless you choose to be. Frankly, I think that using it to protect yourself and those you love shows you have grown from what you have suffered."

The goddess smiled at the muse, curling her legs beside her on the bed. "You are a wise young goddess, Calliope. I will tell him, one day. But now, I am here for you. We both are."

"I thank you," she began, but footsteps were thundering up the stairs. They went back to their silence, not separating, not flinching as the door swung open.

The rage did not dull when Richard Madoc found a second woman in the bedroom, only fueling his confused anger. "What did you do to me? Are you giving me nightmares now? And who the hell is this?!"

"Nightmares are not her power, and you are fully aware of that," Love said calmly from her seat. He looked to Calliope, shouting for an answer.

She rose confidently, the support of the power at her back now giving her no reason to fear him before her.

"I have done nothing to you, Richard Madoc. You have met Morpheus, who the Romans called Shaper of Forms. He was once my husband, and the father of my son."

"I- I didn't know you had a son."

"You know nothing about me," she hissed. "And it is too late to let any of that concern you now."

"Who the hell have you brought into my house?!" he demanded, fear making him frantic.

Calliope sat back on the bed as Love turned to face him. She leveled him with a glare and a wicked smile that bespoke a queen of darkness, a seductive nightmare all of her own.

"I am the goddess of many things, boy, most recently Queen of the Nightmare Realms. I am old enough to remember when your oldest gods birthed forth from the sands. And I am here of my own volition to protect my lovely friend here from your bastardly little paws."

"You are quite frankly lucky that it was the god of dreams who decided to come after you, and not his lover. She does not take kindly to men like you."

Love rose, and stalked his form in the cracked door like a predator, her smile never faltering. "I may not be able to undo what you have already done, but you will never lay a finger on this woman again, Richard Madoc. And what Morpheus chooses to do to you now will be a mercy compared to what you will find should you ever try to defile another like this again."

In a panic, he slammed the door in her face, locking them both in and scurrying down the stairs. Love let out a satisfied hum, smoothing the skirt of her dress. The room was quiet once more, for a moment, and she tried to sense where her husband had gone since Madoc thought he was a nightmare. The Endless was still here, in The Waking, just no longer visible. He was watching, waiting.

"You were right," she finally said, turning over a shoulder. Calliope cocked her head. "About my choice. I have this strength, I can instill fear, because of what I went through. It is only right that I use this to keep others from meeting the same fate, to protect that which I care about."

The muse's dark eyes looked far off for a moment, then smiled and nodded at her. "I wish... I wish we were closer friends, back in those days. I wish I could have given you the same comfort you have brought me so willingly."

"Thank you," Love smiled back, her heart warm as she gave a little bow. "But you had your own pains in those days. Perhaps we could have helped each other. But that is the past, and there is only now."

"Then what will you do now?"

The elder goddess paused, walking to look out the small window. Madoc was leaving, off dressed for business somewhere, and she watched a shadowy form materialize to follow him. Good. He would take care of this.

"I will stay with you as long as you like," she answered simply. "My... talents, are only of use here if you wish him dead. But I would not leave you to wait by yourself."

A hand on her arm startled her, Calliope standing close with an understanding gaze.

"You will make a good queen. He has needed that, I think. This bond you chose to create—" Here, she paused and lifted Love's hand to show her ring, dark and sparkling with Dream's power like a handful of stars had been welded together. "You used the Old Tongue. This tells me he has changed. That you both have changed each other, and will continue to do so."

"That was the hope, at any rate."

Calliope's smile broadened, clasping the hand between both her own. "Go home, be with your people. You have ensured my safety now, and that is more than enough. I have no doubt I will be freed when Oneiros is through."

"You will be," Love reassured. She tentatively reached through her new connection with Dream, trying to call Matthew. "And we will always come, should you need help again."

"Will you visit me? When I am free?" the younger goddess asked suddenly, looking hopeful. "I will not come to The Dreaming unless he is ready to see me, but... I would like us to remain friends, Aphrodite."

A happy laugh tore free from Love's tightening chest. She had not had friends such as this in many years, not besides Lucienne and some of the other staff. It was hard to have such pleasures when you shunned away your own kind.

"I would love that. Send for me when you reunite with your sisters, and I will come. And... Call me Inanna, please. I have not used that name in a long time."

"As you wish, my friend. Fare thee well."

They exchanged an embrace just as fluttering wings reached their ears, Matthew pecking at the window until it was opened for him. The raven bowed his head to both women, then ruffled himself as he addressed his new sovereign.

"I didn't know you could summon me too," he crowed. "That's going to come in handy. Are you ready to head back? The boss is still following that creepy guy around."

Love chuckled. "Yes, I believe we are needed at home. Fare thee well, Calliope of the Camenae."

In a whirl of sand, Matthew fluttered up to the elder goddess's hand and the two were whisked away. Calliope was alone once again, but this time armed as she had not been before. She smiled, knowing that she would soon be free, and had gained a friend. And like her, the muse vowed, she would be strong, and she would use that strength for those who had none, and ensure this could never happen again.

"Mervyn said there are already dreams moving into that sector the Boss had him build," Matthew noted, shaking out his wings as he followed the queen.

They were wandering some of the upper halls, Inanna checking that all the rooms they didn't summon to appear as frequently were back in order. She hummed in acknowledgment, struggling to remember the feeling of pulling each room into place. It had been much harder to learn to traverse The Dreaming without its heart present those hundred years.

"Caw! Which one are you looking for?"

"The observatory," she answered, shaking her head. "I just can't quite remember what it looks like. It's been too long."

Matthew was about to respond, jumping up into her outstretched hand, when both of them felt a telltale shift in The Dreaming like a pop in their ears. The fluid realm had a gravitational pull again.

"Well he's back now, so maybe he can help!"

"Yes, I--"

A boom of thunder rolled outside, and they stepped out to the nearest balcony. Immediately, rain opened up and washed across the realm in melancholy grey, the sky darkening rapidly. The pair shared a look, quickly ducking under an arch out of the shower. Matthew preened at some of her loose hair as she watched the weather bend to its master.

"That looks like you should probably go talk to him," he suggested, looking out at the storm. "He seems... upset."

"Me?" the goddess balked at his understatement. "I doubt he's in any mood to talk to me after that venture. You're his right hand, go give him some good news!"

Matthew crowed at her with a pointed look. As if to prove his argument, there it was--a subtle tug, gentle on their bond since they were still getting used to it. She could feel his forlorn mood, but he'd done his best to quiet it enough that it wasn't drowning her own thoughts.

"I might be, but I'm not the one he's calling to. Anything you want me to go take care of?"

Inanna sighed, now worried about her husband's state. "Yes. If you could go and check on those dreams, make sure they've got what they need to get settled back to work, please. I'll do my best with the king."

He crowed again, gently fluttering off her shoulder and drifting out into the rain. The goddess did her best to latch onto the feeling of Dream's presence, relaxing into the realm's natural tide flowing to him. Down the many stairs, the castle obeyed and guided her out into the throne room.

Dream sat hunched on the stairs to the dais, head in his hands. Rain fell through the open sky ceiling, beginning to pool on the floor in puddles she did her best to avoid. He remained dry despite the surrounding storm, and one hand fell from his brow to extend in her direction, palm up. A silent invitation.

Inanna took it, silently approaching. He was still, eyes closed in a frown that continued to worry her even as it softened with a stroke of her fingers across his palm. The storm lightened but continued.

"Is she alright?" It was a question she was afraid to ask but knew she had to. Dream's fingers closed around hers, squeezing as he gave a little nod and a grunt in response.

He moved his feet to plant on a lower step, tugging her hand gently until she was close enough to wrap his other arm around. Eyes still closed, Dream pulled until she understood to drape herself across his lap, and proceeded to bury his face in her chest. Instinctively, Inanna embraced him. When her nails began to scratch soothingly at his scalp, his body finally relaxed against her.

"Hard day?"

"I find it much more bearable with your touch."

She nuzzled against the silky hair tickling her chin. "Will you tell me what's gotten you so upset?"

Morpheus seemed to curl inward more, and she nearly took that for his response when he quietly spoke again.

"Being in her presence, seeing her so hurt... It reminded me that I was not a good husband to her. That I was... not a good father, and..." His voice died off, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress with a shaky sigh.

Inanna waited for him to continue, and when he didn't, she pressed a kiss to his head. "You do not have to talk to me about him until you're ready. I only ask that you promise to tell me when you are. And that you hear me when I say what happened to each of them was not your fault."

Finally, he lifted his head to look up at her with glassy eyes. As they always were in his home realm, they were full of stars. She had always thought they were beautiful, and reminded him of that now. Morpheus wanted to shy away back to her chest, but instead kissed her shoulder in thanks.

"I can promise you that," he affirmed. "One day, I will. And there is no star in creation that could possibly match your beauty, my love. Even those within me."

With a teasing giggle, Inanna guided his face up to kiss her. His head tilted, a happy sigh relaxing him fully into her hold. The rain stopped, and light began to filter in through the ceiling as the clouds dissipated. Morpheus forgot they were even in his throne room, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into her kisses, though she soon pulled away.

"There now," Inanna smiled at him, brushing her nose along his before gesturing around them. "Do you think you can deal with the puddles? I think Mervyn might have a fit if he sees this."

Morpheus looked around but then appeared to catch an idea, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. "Why don't you try, my dear?"

Her brows furrowed. "But... I do not control The Dreaming."

"My love, The Dreaming is a part of me. It is me. And not only have you always had a powerful influence over its master, but now you have a piece of my power within you. Try?"

The goddess was apprehensive but nodded. She twisted a little in his lap, fondling the ring he'd given her. One hand stretched out to the water collecting on their floor, dripping still from the rafters, and she tensed trying to will it away. Some of the puddles shuddered, and they could feel the confused rippling of The Dreaming at her attempt.

"Relax," the king breathed in her ear, guiding his hand out along her own. "You cannot manipulate this realm with force, you must relax into it and guide the tides."

Inanna closed her eyes, trying to sense the ebb and flow of The Dreaming around her. It was slow, but she could feel everything being drawn to Morpheus, its constant center. If she sank into it deeply enough, she could feel some of it drawn to her now--very slight, but a very strange change as a thin stream reached for her, wrapped around like an old friend, and then moved on to its master.

"There you go. Now coax it to your will. Gently, love."

Her fingers twitched. She opened her eyes, focusing on the pools of water before them. A trickle at a time, the puddles slowly reached for each other to coalesce into a swirling mass in the middle of the room. The water shuddered and thrashed a little at her command, but she drew on his presence through their bond and it relaxed.

Slowly, the water disappeared, as if flowing down a drain in the solid marble.

"Well done, Your Grace," Lucienne's voice echoed from the entryway, looking pleased that the place was back to normal. "You'll be a master of the library soon, learning that quickly."

"Indeed," Morpheus replied, an obvious pride in his eyes that made his wife blush. She slid carefully from his lap to sit on the step below him as their librarian approached, recognizing the look of business on her face.

"I've just gotten the census done, Your Majesties," she announced proudly. "I counted roughly eleven thousand and they're settling back in well. All but three of the Major Arcana have returned."

[teelagurl558]

Dream of Love Masterlist

Dream's disastrous love life is common teasing fodder for his siblings. But now, Destiny says that the Book holds other things for his future--a love that will last, which will nurture him in his darkness, and one which will save her and humanity from her eventual death. But an essentially arranged marriage, whether prophesized or not, comes with its own struggles. And that doesn't even take into account what happens when mortals meddle, and Nightmares choose to run amok.

prologue || by royal decree

chapter one || with love, morpheus

chapter two || the long game

chapter three || oh, what is bliss

chapter four || to have loved, and lost

chapter five || of love and war

chapter six || light of a fading star

chapter seven || guide me safely home

chapter eight || among the wildflowers

chapter nine || queen of nightmares

chapter ten || [untitled]

ongoing!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: go check out love game by @avtrbee​, i loved her story & her idea of a Love character was the original inspiration for Inanna when I started drafting this fic

[teelagurl558]

So because I’m a loser who doesn’t really use ao3 my wife is posting my spencer reid oc fic over there so somebody besides them can read it

which of course means im howling at @spinningintheshadows coming up with ao3 tags for it

[teelagurl558]

Your Brother Gave It To Me

Uncharted (Movie)-- Sam Drake x Reader

A/N: ~6.1k Nate gets stuck in a bind, as usual. But then he runs into someone from his brother’s past, bringing a lot more surprises to the table than he expects. [basically besties i went & saw the movie & got real thirsty for my husband. also my knowledge of game canon is minimal so i apologize, i did do some research.]

Nate rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the metal chair with a groan. “I told you guys, I can’t speak German.”

This was such bullshit. He was sitting chained to a folding chair in an abandoned building, somewhere out near the coast. Sully was taking too long to catch up since they got separated in Berlin, and these underground Nazi enthusiasts were really pinching his nerves.

“Zum letzten Mal, wo ist der Kompass?” the one in front of him shouted, his beaten police-issue SIG Sauer digging into Nate’s forehead. The earpiece they’d already ripped out of his head crunched under the German’s boot, and all he could hope was that Sully knew where he was headed and got his last location.

There was movement in the rafters, something he heard and tried to ignore in case it meant his companion had arrived. “Uhh… Compass?”

“Kompass! Wo ist?” another insisted, groaning against the butt of his rifle. There were half a dozen on this floor alone, Nate’s back to a third-story balcony and flirting with the cold, broken rusty railing. He couldn’t remember what was down below, more frost and rust-eaten machinery probably.

“Ich sollte dich toeten und darauf warten, dass dein Freund zu uns kommt.”

“Das wird nicht notwendig sein, Jungs.”

Suddenly a woman’s voice rang down from above, along with clanging that drew the fire of the German mercenaries. It wasn’t the chaotic, last-minute rescue from Sully he was expecting, but Nate would take anything he could get over a bullet.

One of the building’s many frozen burst pipes fell down from the rafters to knock an assailant off the balcony. The disembodied voice developed a face in the form of a young woman, only visible for a few seconds as she landed to kick the fuse box beside them. A shower of sparks flew before the building went dark, rifle flashes and screams encouraging Nate to tip himself over out of the potential crossfire.

Red, ominous hazard lights came on as a generator kicked in, and he took in the curves currently in battle with his captors. She was gorgeous, he wouldn’t lie—cargo pants couldn’t hide that, and neither would the skin-tight thermal shirt she wore for the coastal winter. Her legs swung up even above her recently bleached hair, breaking jaws with her combat boots and taking punches like she couldn’t feel them.

A german grabbed her around the neck while she was trying to shoot his comrade, knocking her pistol from her hand as he dragged her backward. In a flash, she headbutted his nose, whirling around and rolling his arm above his head. Her hand flicked quickly and she slashed a tiny blade across his neck, turning just in time to parry the gun of his last comrade and give him the same fate.

Wiping her bloodied lip, she picked up her discarded gun and sauntered up to Nate.

“Woah, woah woah, who the heck are you?” he rushed out, and she gave him a cheeky smirk, only lifting her gun as she straddled over him and his chair.

“Duck your head down,” she barked, and he only had a split second to obey before a bullet pierced through the chain at his wrists. The mystery woman lifted him quickly by the arm, handing him one of the German guns. “Make yourself useful, there’ll be more downstairs.”

With a shrug, he followed her, and clearing through the building to their escape went much quicker than he expected. She fought hard, and quick, reminding him of a viper the way her body moved. It caught his eye a little too often, earning him a few more bruises to his torso than he’d have liked. Nate finally stopped them when she’d run him a mile out into the woods, and they stopped hearing German shouts around them.

“Hey, alright, thanks for the save back there but seriously, who are you?” he demanded, racking his pistol just in case. She glanced at it with a raised eyebrow and just chuckled, as if he were a toddler threatening her with his squirt gun.

The mystery woman nodded in understanding, reaching up to tie back her hair. “My name is Y/n. Tell me, what’s that ring around your neck say, kid?” He gave her a skeptical look and she held up her hands, bloodied still. “Humor me.”

“It says ‘Sic Parvis Magna’. What does that have to do with anything?” Nate was curious now. He’d had people seeking the ring before, and it was always in conjunction with his brother. Had this woman been shafted by Sam and Sully too?

Y/n smiled at the dirt, swallowed hard, and extended her hand. “It means I busted the right guy out. Nice to finally meet you, Nate.”

He eyed her ring, a short, needlelike blade still protruding and bloodied. She laughed and apologized, quickly wiping it and concealing the weapon before she shook his hand.

“That’s a nice piece you’ve got,” Nate commented, glancing over it and the hefty emerald she’d twisted to hide the blade. His finger tugged at the band on instinct, knowing how much it must be worth. But Y/n gave him a wise look, curling her digits skillfully and pulling away.

“Thanks, kid. But you’re not pinching that one. Your brother gave it to me.” As Nate’s eyes bulged, he watched her own go distant for a second, trailing over the bands fondly.

Did everyone know Sam but him? It had been over a decade, and Sam had been dead for almost two years now. How had she known him?

“You knew my brother Sam?”

A distant look crossed her eyes before disappearing, only a mischievous grin in its wake. “In better ways than you probably wanna hear about, little guy.”

Nate didn’t miss the wink or the sway of her hips as she stepped closer, cringing at the thoughts now burned in his mind until her hand was on his arm suddenly.

“But more importantly, Nate—I know him. Your brother’s alive. And I need your help to get him back.”

Air escaped his lungs. He shook his head, scowling and backing away quickly. “No. No, you’re wrong. Braddock shot him, looking for the Moncada gold. Sam’s gone.”

“Sam isn’t gone,” she insisted, looking genuinely pained. But he’d learned not to fall for even the most real appearance of suffering. “Look, here’s my phone, call Sully and tell him to meet us at this location. That bastard knows me too, I know you trust him. But I can prove to you Sam’s alive.”

Nate frowned but took the phone and paper thrust into his hands, begrudgingly calling Sully’s last burner. When he picked up, as she’d said, Sully remembered Y/n. He warned him to watch his back because she was “One wild ass woman”, but promised he could meet them at the location in a few hours. With an expectant huff, he handed back her things and they started hiking.

Y/n dug in her pockets again until she pulled out a ziploc, one that looked nearly identical to the one always in Nate’s pocket, only there was just a single postcard. She pulled it out and handed it over.

“That was the last one he wrote to you, before–” she couldn’t finish her sentence, and Nate glanced over to see her biting her lip. Was that… genuine hurt?

“Before he was shot,” he finished. When he flipped the card over, his eyes bulged—the handwriting was Sam’s, no doubt about that. It matched every card he had. “How do you have this?”

“It went in my bag after he wrote it. Along with all the blank ones he had me pick up to write you more. Stupid charming smirk of his, always had me hauling his shit around.”

There was a dry laugh, and Nate watched that distant look wash over her eyes again. He caught her tracing the ring again, before she quickly rolled up her sleeves to let in the cold and sighed.

Sam was alive. Not only that, but Nate was walking around with some woman who clearly harbored a serious past with him, knew him well from this decade of being gone.

“Say, for now, I believe you. So… you slept with my brother. I guess that means you worked with him and Sully?”

That time her laugh was more cheeky, and she bit her lip giving him a side-eye. “Oh, honey, it was more than sleeping with him. Though, we definitely did that a lot too.”

Nate gagged, grimacing at her, and she laughed again. He couldn’t help but think she was pretty, which made him want to vomit knowing his brother had been all over her.

“Anyway, yes, I worked with Sam and Sully. I was with them on the Magellan mission. Well, part of it.”

“So then where were you when he was shot?” He didn’t mean for it to come out harsh, but it had—he understood Sully’s reasoning for leaving him behind, and he’d made up for it now, but this woman claimed to care for his brother so where was she? Y/n whirled on him, shooting a burning glare straight into his soul before tearing her eyes away and aiming it at her boots.

Her voice was quieter when she finally answered, sounding hurt and angry. “I was in the back of a cargo truck, about thirty miles the wrong way. It was time to check the tomb, and I guess Sam realized they might’ve been tailed. He told me they needed me to go get another piece, a fucking necklace or something to get into the captain’s tomb while they found the location. Shithead got all sentimental on me and sent me on a goose chase in case things got dirty with Braddock. And he was right.”

Nate didn’t know what to say, the agony and the bitterness in her voice felt so deep. It simmered like hot blood from her lips, like she still felt that betrayal as a physical wound. They had come across a hostel of some kind and he could see Sully leaning against a truck outside, already cringing at the sight of them. Y/n stopped Nate short with an arm pummeling his chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

She didn’t raise her voice, and her piercing gaze only slowly met his. “Don’t you dare think for a second I dipped out on him like Sully did. Because if I knew where the hell that stupid tomb was, I’d have been there sooner, I’d have found him myself and we wouldn’t be in this mess now.”

Without another word she stormed away, making a beeline for Sully. All Nate could do was follow, cracking his shoulder and stretching as they approached.

“Well, kid. Glad you’re still in one piece. Playdate with your buddies go okay?”

“Oh, y’know, they don’t make a lot of sense and their games were kind of rude, but I got your babysitter to pick me up apparently.”

Nate nodded his head in Y/n’s direction, who Sully was very pointedly avoiding. He looked genuinely a little afraid, and it made the younger man want to laugh.

“Yeah, I see that,” he finally conceded, making eye contact with the glaring woman. “Miss me, sweetheart?”

“Call me that name again and I’ll give you another black eye, Victor.”

Sully raised his brows and nodded, gesturing inside. “Fair enough. Judging by how things went last time I saw you, I’d imagine you have something important to discuss if you’re in front of me and I’m not bleeding yet.”

“I do. Get us a room, I’m going to check the place for bugs.”

She strutted away into the shadows, disappearing down an alley. Nate watched her go, frowning at Sully. “Bugs… Something tells me she doesn’t mean roaches.”

“No, Nate, if roaches tried to come near her, they’d piss themselves in fear. She means wiretaps, which means we’re in big trouble.”

It wasn’t long before the men were up in the top floor of the hostel, the place mostly empty considering the tiny village they were in. Y/n finally entered the room, double checking the hall as she did before taking a seat across from them. The place was dingey, but they’d all slept in worse.

“So who’s after you, then?” Sully began, straight to the point. “If you’re checking for bugs out in a place like this you’re in deep shit, and I don’t think we wanna get in on that.”

“Sully, hear her out,” Nate halted him, surprising the older man with his sincerity.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna let this one knock you on your ass too, I’m not done harassing you over Chloe yet.”

“No, Jesus, Sully just shut up and listen.”

With a sly smirk that quickly faded, Y/n leaned forward in the room’s lone chair and waved him off. “The search for extra ears was just a precaution. It isn’t that someone’s after me, per se—it’s that I know something, and I’m not sure if it’s gotten around that I know. Nate’s right though, you’ll want to hear this.”

She gestured, and Nate pulled out her postcard, pairing it with an older one of his to hand to Sully before she continued. “Sam’s alive, Sully. And I know where he is. That’s why I hunted your slimy ass down, that’s why I found Nate and saved him from the Germans. You can come back to this job later, I need backup to help him.”

“Wait, hold on, how the hell does this prove he’s alive? You guys always mixed up your stuff. I’ll believe this is his, but all it does is prove to Nate you knew him. So how are you so sure?”

Nate scowled, realizing his friend was right. His chest hurt as the hope came crashing down; Sam wrote him another card, sure, but he was likely still dead in the woods somewhere.

“Because he sent one to me too. A few months after we thought he died.”

Sully still wasn’t convinced though Nate’s ears perked. The older man shot him a warning glance not to believe her. “And how do you know it didn’t just come late? I told you, I saw him bleeding out. There wasn’t a way he could survive with how he was shot.”

“Yes, thank you for the reminder, Victor. I heard that spiel a hundred times when I finally caught up with you afterward,” she rolled her eyes and hissed. “I know it was legit because he couldn’t have known where to send it until after we were separated. We, uh, we had a system, to find each other again, back from—”

“From before I knew you,” Sully finished, nodding. “From running little jobs on the streets together like Nate was. Can I see it?”

Hesitantly, Y/n pulled out another Ziploc. The dry bag had another card she passed over, as well as some random junk Nate noticed—a few bracelets, some crumpled notes, river stones. She shoved it back in her cargo pocket quickly.

“There was a code we used, to find locations and meet back up. So after you told me where the tomb was and I couldn’t–” she coughed, swallowing hard over the words. “After I couldn’t find his body, I went to one. And then I got that note. Disappearing ink said he’d gotten into Panama, and I found him.”

Nate shook his head, fisting his hair. “So if you’ve known where he is, and you found him, why the hell are you just now tracking us down to get him out?”

She rolled her eyes, a move that made Sully scoff. “Because for one, I didn’t know you were even in the business until a few months ago. And, God knows I didn’t want to see Sully again, but when I got to Panama and Sam had already been thrown in the slammer, I didn’t have much choice. I’ll take whatever help I can get, even if it’s this sleazy piece of shit.”

“Hey, I resent that remark.”

Y/n gave Sully the harshest glare she could muster. “You know good and well you deserve every bit of blame. You left him to die.”

“Look, Y/n I was mad when I found out too, but—“

“No, Nate you don’t get it. Sam and I trusted him. We had almost felt like friends, and he left him there to die. Let him send me away so he could make off with the journal like a snake with his spoils.”

Sully rubbed his face and groaned. “I’m not a snake, Y/n, I thought he was dead! There wasn’t anything else I could do, it was just us!”

Y/n stood, months of rage evident on her face as her fists clenched. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you let him trick me.”

“Why aren’t you mad at him over this? I’m not the one who sent you after a fake necklace, Sam did!”

Like lightning, her fist pistoned out into his nose, blood pouring with a loud yowl.

“Woah! Shit, Y/n, chill out!” Nate yelled, stepping between the two. Y/n was pressed against his shoulder, every fiber of her wanting to dive at Sully.

“Sam told me to go because he knew Braddock had tailed you. And he thought he could trust you to help get out of there quicker together. I wasn’t there because you couldn’t keep our trail clean and Sam didn’t have anything left to lose but me!”

Nate’s mouth fell open. The woman behind him whirled away just as he saw the glimmer of tears on her face, taking a few steps away while Sully groaned at his bleeding nose.

Finally, the older man sighed, blinking away the headache her fist brought on. He glanced over at her tense form, letting out a low chuckle.

“Y’know, I was expecting much worse.”

“You deserve much worse,” she snapped. “Even Chloe knew that and she was ready to shaft us at any chance she got.”

“That’s ‘cause she’s smart. You and Sam both knew what came with this life, you knew the risks and you knew letting your guard down wasn’t smart, even with each other,” Sully reasoned, giving her a tone like a big brother gently reminding her. She sighed and shook her head, finally facing them again with a dry smirk.

“Y’know, Sully, we always figured you’d do something stupid, cut us off in the end. We always had a plan. And yet that son of a bitch ran off by himself with you.” There was an airy laugh in her voice, and she mopped up her face.

Sully nodded, a knowing smile that said there was friendship despite the bad blood between them. “Yeah, s’cause he was a dumbass and fell in love on the job.”

The three took a long moment to breathe, Y/n sitting down again to clean her gun. Nate scrounged around for food, passing some crackers and a questionable meal from the maid around the table.

“He’s in Panama like I said,” she reiterated. “I got a leak in to talk to him, some druglord is in the neighboring cell and his thugs helped me out. Sam got away from Braddock and ended up getting helped by this guy’s gang in exchange for help chasing her out of their turf. Only not long after she left following Sully, Sam and a bunch of the cronies got thrown in the slammer.”

“So we’re orchestrating a jailbreak?” Nate concluded. She nodded.

“We’re orchestrating a jailbreak. And it needs to be soon because the cronies I was working with said there’s some mutiny going on within the prison. They’re going to execute all the gang members they caught, which includes Sam by association.”

“Alright, I’ll book us a flight,” Sully sighed, rubbing his face harshly. Y/n got up and made her way to the lone bedroom, saluting the two as she did.

“I’ll give you some credit that you might still know the drill, Sully.”

The door was shut before Nate could even complain she’d taken the bed, Sully dutifully reciting, “Don’t come in unless someone’s dying, don’t knock ‘til it’s time to go.”

------------------------------------------

“What’re we looking for?” Nate hissed. Y/n army-crawled further up in the mud beside him, pulling the knife from her teeth. It was so dark he could hardly see her.

“Alcazar’s boys said they’re moving in when the guards change,” she whispered back. “Soon as we see ‘em moving, that’s Sully’s cue to cause a distraction.”

“Yeah, why did I have to be put on distraction duty again?” Sully whined in their earpieces. Y/n rolled her eyes, quickly flattening herself and Nate as a searchlight swept over the jungle.

“Because you’re the slowest. Nate and I have to be able to get in and out fast, and make sure Sam isn’t caught up in crossfire again. Or have you forgotten last time?”

“Y/n, sweetheart, you’ll never let me forget last time, I know.”

“Call me that again and I’ll leave your ass here,” she hissed, and nudged Nate when she saw shuffling in the brush below them down the hill. “They’re closing in. Guard change is coming. Let’s move.”

Y/n led the way, skillfully shimmying across the ground like a lizard with her knife in her teeth. She’d had a stoic, harsh demeanor since they’d landed that morning, just as determined as Nate was to get his brother back. Nate was sweating like a pig, the tropical heat stark in contrast to the cold he’d been in yesterday. 

She halted at the steep incline, rolling onto her back to skid down the hill into the brush. Just as Nate landed beside her, there were loud calls from the guards and a sudden burst of flares overhead.

“This enough distraction for you?” Sully giggled. The display was like fireworks done by a ten-year-old, low-grade explosives going off sporadically among the flares and scattering the confused front guards. The men from this druglord’s gang Y/n had been dealing with surged forward in a mob, overrunning the front gates. Y/n, instead, pulled Nate around to a side entry.

It was small, but the quick gunshot to break the lock wouldn’t be heard over the nearby commotion. They ducked inside without interruption, pressing against the dimly lit walls while guards rushed up to the front to reinforce their ranks. The pair was silent, Y/n pulling a second knife from her holster and disposing of the lone few guards left before they descended deeper into the prison.

Inmates were already flooding out. The onslaught above was partly reaching inside now, shutting off the power and letting loose a stampede below that hurried to reach their freedom. Y/n was struggling not to panic, desperately looking for any sign of familiarity, any glimpse of–

There.

Pressed against a cell wall, talking to who she knew as Alcazar from photos, was Sam, watching the stampeding inmates with a trained eye. Y/n could feel tears of relief working their way up from her chest. He was waiting for his moment to move, but Nate shot forward without a second thought.

“Sam! Sam, it’s me!”

Y/n groaned, facepalming hard and trying to dive after him through the sea of raging, dangerous bodies. The cells were a maze, and Sam and his friend had ducked around a corner too fast. Nate was moving frantically after him, difficult to follow.

“Guys, did you find him yet? I don’t know how long I can wait out here in the truck, it’s getting hot up here.”

“We found him, but the inmates are running wild and Nate went after him. Give me a minute to catch up, I can’t find us a route out yet,” Y/n panted, finally vaulting herself over the shoulders of a prisoner to hang from a wall sconce. It gave her a better view for the moment, but still no sign of the others. “Nate, where the hell did you go?”

“I caught up with him, I’m sorry–” came the rushed reply. “We made it to a sewer access, they said this main line dumps out a kilometer south of the prison.”

She shouted in frustration, swearing as she tried to think how to meet up with them in time. The guards or the mob would have a hold on the place soon, and then it would be no man’s land.

Sully chimed in, somehow the voice of reason. “Alright. Y/n just pull back, get Alcazar to his men if you can so they don’t kill us. Nate, stay with Sam and we’ll meet you at the outlet. Send us your location to follow.”

“Sounds good. Y/n, we left Alcazar at the far back quadrant. Said he was going to find his posse.”

The woman’s head whirled, kicking off the wall and sprinting down an adjacent hallway. “I’m on it. He’s my ticket out of here.”

Once she found the druglord and introduced herself as his rescuer, the entire prison was buzzing like a kicked anthill. Y/n rushed them forward into one of the surges, needing to get at least up the stairwell before she could bail out. A few quick rounds from her pistol to the ceiling had the slowly dissipating crowd on the ground, and they made it up without further issue.

The young woman quickly ensured Alcazar landed with some of his men and disappeared out the nearest window, knowing they’d likely still kill her. She had a mission, and someone very important waiting on the other side.

Sully was waiting in a covered truck just out of sight, and when she slammed the passenger door shut, he didn’t spare her a glance.

“We’ll probably beat them there. They’ve got a half-mile of wastewater line to drag through.”

“I don’t care, Sully just step on it!” Y/n snapped, already holding onto the handle above her and aiming her gun out the back. “I didn’t just bust Sam out of jail to be swiss cheesed before I can see him.”

“You ain’t gotta tell me twice, I’m all about that not dying business.”

The drive was tense for a few minutes until they’d cleared past the sounds of sirens from the prison. Sully had to figure out how to manage following Nate’s GPS signal and the lack of real roads that led to it, finally pealing off-road and barreling through the jungle brush. He glanced over at Y/n after a moment, noticing every muscle still tense and her eyes darker than he’d remembered.

“Hey, kid we found him,” he tried, nudging her arm. It spooked him to realize she was still gripping her pistol. “It’s okay now, we got him back. He’s alive.”

“Sully, it’s cute you’re trying to help, but I’m not going to feel okay until I have a hand on him again. Honestly, dunno if I’ll be okay even then.”

The older man clapped her shoulder, giving her what little support he could muster. He wasn’t great at this stuff, but Nate had rubbed off on him since he and Y/n parted ways. “Look, Nate’s with him now. They’ve needed this for like a decade, they’re gonna crawl out the other side of that shitpipe just fine. And blondie’s gonna see your pretty little face, and come running smellin’ like sewage to smooch it up with you.”

Y/n’s tired eyes rolled over to glance at him, letting out a short laugh. “You’re such an idiot.” They both knew it was a sign of endearment, in that gruff way they knew how to express.

“Yeah, I know, that’s how I came up with this getaway plan and that diversion back there. You should be praising my genius, toots.”

“God, if you weren’t driving I swear I’d give you the Joker special with this knife.”

And just like that, they were—more or less—back to normal. Y/n was still trembling slightly, her muscles tense, and it only got worse when they parked the truck outside of an 8ft drainpipe and got out.

Sully was watching Nate’s GPS dot approach them, until they could hear laughter echoing down the pipe. The brothers had a kilometer trek to catch up and reunite, now happily engrossed in some conversation as their muddy forms came into view.

The water flow was light, trickling out from calf depth to form a creek out into the river nearby. As soon as the Drake boys laid eyes on the exit, they were stumbling and splashing out to the mouth.

Sam was worn down and disheveled, his hair shaggy and his beard all over the place, but the second he locked eyes with Y/n it was like a breath of fresh air in his lungs. He could scarcely breathe, eyes already pouring as a wet laugh fell from his grinning lips.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, almost like it sighed out of him unintentionally. A sob ripped from Y/n’s throat, her boots pounding into the mud to leap into his open arms. He cupped under her thighs as they wrapped around him, spinning her in a passionate embrace and locking their lips with a needy groan.

It was like fire in her chest, feeling him kiss her again. It tore more sobs from her as the relief poured out in hurricane waves. There was magnetism between their lips, her hands tangling in all the hair around his face trying to hold him closer. When they finally had to pull back to breathe, their foreheads smushed together and they giggled.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” Sam hummed. Y/n let out a laugh that barely wasn’t a sob, hugging his head against her neck.

“Shit, Sam. I missed you too.” She pulled back to violently swat at his head with a scowl, and he nearly dropped her in surprise and pain.

“Ow! What the hell, woman?”

“Don’t you dare ever trick me like that again, Sam Drake. You put this ring on my finger to say you were sticking by my side and then run off with that idiot? Come on!”

Sam gently let her down, still holding her close by the waist, and scratched his head sheepishly. Sully let out an offended shout, but the couple wasn’t really paying attention.

“I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t risk losing you. I promise I’ll try better next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, I’m skinning you when we get out of here.” But the threat in her voice was hollow, fingers clinging to his ratty shirt for dear life.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Sam gave Sully an acknowledging nod, just holding his girl close for a while. It had been too long since they’d been able to do this, too many nights thinking they’d never get to again.

Sam threaded his fingers in her hair, squeezing her waist with his other arm. “You bleached your hair.”

“I had to change my look somehow, I didn’t know Braddock was gone until I found these two goons,” Y/n countered. He kissed her cheeks, his scraggly hair tickling her neck.

“I like it. We match now.”

“Your beard is fucking wild, Sam. It tickles!”

“You don’t like it? I’ve been growing it out for the wedding.” The pout only made her cackle, the ridiculousness of his overgrown shaggy prison hair and beard unable to hide the man she loved beneath it.

“Sam Drake, I’ll shave you with my pocket knife. You know I will, I’ve done it before.”

“You’ll need a lawnmower,” Sully interjected. “Shit, man, you look like a lumberjack on cocaine.”

Sam shook his head, tugging her by the hair back to his lips to shut everyone up. He sighed happily as soon as he did, squeezing her body flush to his. Nate made a gagging sound, trying to cover it with a half-assed smile when Sam turned to face him.

The older brother kept his arm around his girl’s waist, holding her against him while she clung to his shirt. “I’m glad you two finally met, just wish I could’ve been there to see it.”

“I almost died. She killed like a dozen Germans. Normal day at work, you didn’t miss much,” Nate waved off. “But, what the hell do you mean wedding?”

“They’re engaged,” Sully groaned, putting air quotes around the word as he rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I’m still not convinced he’s not just still pulling a prank on me because I hit on her once back in the day.”

“Sully, man, I literally proposed to her in front of you. We had just finished a job.”

“Yeah, I ‘accidentally’ walked up at just the right time, huh? And with the ring I helped you loot from that heiress back in Italy?”

“Oh, that was such a fun trip,” Y/n interjected, her head falling to Sam’s shoulder with a nostalgic pout. “We had such a good time. God, the loot was so good.”

Sam laced one of her hands in his and dipped her romantically. “Ah, so you remember Naples? Those long nights on the beach, filling our pockets from lavish parties and climbing buildings to escape?”

There was a long groan from Sully. “Please, the gala we went to heist was not enough fun to justify my suffering. I was trying to forget the sexual tension and the resolution in the adjacent hotel room, thanks.”

“GUYS,” Nate shouted, finally catching their attention. “Can we get out of here and start from the beginning? I’m so lost.”

The group laughed, nods rounding through before they hurried back to the car and off to their hideaway for the night.

Sam had taken the time to shower and to trim down his beard with some clippers of Sully’s, tying his long hair back until he had the bandwidth to cut it. The group sat around on the patio of their little hideaway house, a bottle of red Nate had stumbled upon being passed around.

The older Drake brother was tense at first. Seeing himself in the mirror after all that time had given him a rude reminder that he’d spent much too long in a very dark, very harsh place. His skin was pallid and sunken in places, the muscle mass he’d tried to keep in prison barely able to hold onto his malnourished body. 

But Y/n’s gentle hands on him soothed his nerves just as they washed away the grime and blood from his body. He knew he could rest his head against her and feel safe, knew he could count on her to be there while the guilt of taking so long to see his brother again set in. She’d coax some of her cooking into him, and thread her hands through his hair in ways that made his blood rush and feel alive.

“So how long has this been going on, then?” Nate asked, and Sam’s head snapped up. He’d gotten lost in her touch, holding her in his lap fondly. His brother was gesturing at the two of them.

“About… what, five years? Give or take?”

Y/n nodded. “Near seven now, since we lost you. You were gone almost two years, baby.”

With a shaky breath, Sam nodded, trying to go back to the happier subject for now. “I met her not long after I left the orphanage. Doing petty crimes like we used to, y’know. Kept running into each other, and then one day she saved my ass from getting thrown in juvie again, told the cops I was her crazy brother she’d been lookin’ for. Roped me into working with her, the rest is history.”

“I beg to differ, you two were a pain in my ass for ages before you asked her out,” Sully intervened, but only Nate really paid attention.

Sam was watching Y/n with adoration in his eyes, a side of his brother Nate hadn’t been exposed to before. Granted, he reckoned there was quite a lot he had to learn about the young man now. There was that same, always mischievous grin though, just as it had been when he was barely seventeen.

“Oh, that reminds me, Sul,” the older Drake chuckled. “I got a lead on an old pirate treasure, that’s why I was snooping around that prison anyway. You’ll wanna hear about this.”

Y/n let out a laugh against his neck, lifting up and glancing at the other men. “Right back on the job, huh?”

Nate rolled his eyes, nodding as if they were old friends. “Same old Sam.”

—————————————————

special thanks to @sailnorthreid for literally lurking in the doc and cheering the entire time i speed wrote this love you babes

[teelagurl558]

prologue || by royal decree

a family dinner once every few hundred years can’t be any worse than normal, right?

masterlist

It was only every few hundred years that all the Endless were found together.

The siblings had far too much to do, reigning over their individual aspects. Death's duties especially were constant. But, reluctant or not, no one dared decline an invitation to a family dinner. Squabbles between the younger ones were cast aside to answer Destiny's summons.

This was how Dream found himself counting the minutes, sitting at a long picnic table in Destiny's gardens. Desire was being passive-aggressive again, biting at him with a grin on their face and all but drowned out by the constant chatter of Delirium. Of course, she seated herself as far away from him as possible, but it still felt like wasps in his ears.

He huffed a sigh at another ploy for a fight from his little sibling, asking something about if he'd swayed another forbidden mortal lover since their last reunion. Content to sit in silence and satisfy his brother with simple presence, Dream did not engage.

"Desire reminds me, there is something we must discuss, my brother," Destiny stated, and Dream's head whipped up. The chatter at the table halted, their littlest sibling letting out one manic giggle.

"Dreamy's in trouble."

That got the twins snickering again until Destiny held up the hand not chained to his book. He leveled his younger brother with his blind stare.

"The Book has shown me the resolution of your common folly, and I have decided that I should tell you directly," the eldest explained. "A goddess was revealed to me, one whom the world would greatly benefit from your keeping. Your union with her will guide you back to your strength, and away from the suffering of your past endeavors."

"You... You wish me to marry a goddess? After what happened with Calliope?" Dream blinked in confusion. Never had his family intervened in his love affairs in such ways before.

Destiny's head lowered somberly. "Your affair with the Muse was tragic, my brother. But I speak not just of any goddess. I speak of Love herself."

At that, Desire let out a righteous cackle, nearly flinging a piece of lobster from their fork. "I'm sorry, just, Dream? You chose Dream to court the goddess who invented the sport? It sounds like you just want him to get mauled by ethereal lions."

The Lord of Dreams hung his head. This dinner was turning out to be the most unbearable one in several millennia, not counting the time Despair brought her rats.

"Your input is acknowledged, my sibling," Destiny boomed, obviously irritated as his hollow gaze raked over them. "But I have convened with the Fates on this matter already. The world is in need of Love just as much as she is in need of their worship."

His attention refocused on Dream. "My brother, she is a goddess who has worn many faces and still does in this age. Her continuous life through eras of pantheons brings her closer to our plane of existence than any of the other gods borne of your realm. And if the living were to forget her, if she were to die, chaos would ensue."

"So your logic is to marry her to me so that she will reconnect with The Dreaming and be protected."

At Dream's betrayed tone, Death laid a hand across his back. He scowled into the wood grain of the table, wondering how he could have been trapped into such a fate. It wasn't like he could cross his brother's wishes; if Destiny said it would be so, it just was. But the Endless were not monsters, and the eldest let out a sigh.

"It is not only for her benefit that I have brought this to your attention. You have grown cold, my brother, and yet your heart is a passionate one. The Fates have agreed, Love is the only one who could pull you from your tireless path of heartbreak. It is Love alone who can bring out the deepest power of Dreams."

At the younger brother's silence, Destiny stopped his proposal to tell him quietly to mull it over. Death squeezed his shoulder and quickly found another topic to distract the younger three while Dream continued his agonizing dinner in silence.

It was of course Death who followed him when they all departed Destiny's realm, linking her arm with her little brother's in comfortable silence. They stayed like that until their feet passed the edge of the realm, the hedge maze long behind them.

"Come to offer your piece on the matter?" he quipped bitterly. Her expression was gentle.

"Of course I have. But, first, I want to hear yours. I know you won't speak against Destiny directly."

He hummed, still frowning at his shoes as they walked. "You're right. I couldn't even if I had the gall, not when what he says is already fated. And it pains me more that as I think it over further, I know he's probably right."

Unnoticed, he had brought them to walk upon the soft sands at the edge of The Dreaming. He felt safer here, at home. He was more at peace, and he could think clearly about this dilemma. Death took notice of the unspoken invitation into his realm, smiling at the scenery around her in encouragement for him to continue.

"I have only met her a few times, but I know how desperately the world needs her presence. Love is everywhere, especially for humans. Her power bleeds into their dreams so often, I think it's the only reason the modern religions haven't killed her off. Ishtar, Bastet, Freyja— they don't worship her as they did in those forms."

"Yes, but what about how you feel, Dream?" Death asked, stopping him before the ivory gates. "I know you admire her, and you recognize her importance. But how do you feel about the idea of marrying her?"

Dream paused for a long time. He thought about his subjects, all the sweetest dreams he had made because of her blessings on humanity. He thought of the few times he had met Love, back in the ages when gods were much more social. Love had always been kind to him, had even told him once she owed her existence for the humans to him and The Dreaming. No other gods had ever bothered, though they were all born in his realm.

And he remembered, far back in the dawn of living things, when she took form in the sands of The Dreaming for the first time. What a sweet little thing he had thought she was. Tender and playful and new, overjoyed at the affection between the animals that had first summoned her into being. He was enamored with her, at how unconditionally she loved. How tenderly she spoke, how ferociously she cared.

Perhaps it was then that he became how he was now, so desperate for passion with another being compared to his family. Perhaps it was her fault all along that Dream of the Endless was even capable of loving. That thought terrified him because it made the Book of Destiny's prophecy make even more sense.

"I feel that he is perhaps right again," he whispered, hoping perhaps the sands would carry it away. It was a scary feeling. "The millennia of being cursed with a heart so full, of feeling it broken countless times over the eons—it has made me cold. But nothing changes that I feel so strongly. And if anyone can care for something so broken and calloused, it is Love."

Death nodded slowly, a small smile creeping across her pretty features. "Then, my brother, you've got work to do. As irritating as it sounds Desire was partially right. Love is a goddess you can't just approach bluntly. You must take care. But I do believe that if you approach this right, you'll find something very nurturing and happy waiting for you."

The ivory gates rumbled as they opened, more grand than ominous. She watched appreciatively at the marvels her brother had built and then turned to leave.

"I intend to court her properly," he called over his shoulder. "But I won't lie to her. She is as close to Endless as her kind can get, and deserves to know the powers at play."

Having met her plenty of times, and much more recently than Dream, Death gave him a smile of approval. The goddess had grown in the centuries since he last saw her, and Death just hoped her little brother was prepared for that.

tags: @avtrbee​

[teelagurl558]

chapter one || with love, morpheus

Dream TOTALLY has the social skills to handle a delicate situation. Totally.

masterlist

The realm of a goddess was never going to be as vast or powerful as that of an Endless. However, the more powerful a deity became over the ages, the more capability they had to create their own space to reside. Love was a concept that had existed from the early beginnings of living things, and so the realm of the goddess herself was a pocket of paradise she was quite proud of.

It wasn't often that she actually took audience upon her chaise throne, but it also wasn't often that she had visitors.

A dove had come to her while she stood at the fountain, answering prayers. There was a visitor wishing to enter the realm, an emissary. How odd.

"Let them in, and give them an escort. I'll be inside."

And so Love found herself draped across her throne, flowing skirts that swished like waves of the sea tossed across it and around the floor gracefully. Anteros, as usual, lay protectively at her feet. She stroked the lion's mane affectionately, grateful for his presence.

Pothos and Himeros entered the open arches first, with an elegantly dressed woman between them. She had a beautiful black and white raven perched on one shoulder that caught Love's interest. It cawed happily at the sight of her.

When they reached the small dais, the two lions parted to sit on either side of their mother and brother. The emissary bowed graciously, her raven fluttering bravely closer to peek at the goddess.

"Thank you for such a warm welcome, Lady Venus. I am Lucienne, and this is Jessamy. We come as representatives of Lord Morpheus of the Endless."

Now that really piqued her interest. Love sat up further, toes tickling against the lush carpet beneath her. She reached a hand out and the raven fluttered closer to preen against it.

"All are welcome here, my dear. I must admit, I have not seen the King of Dreams in eons, and certainly not with the formality of an emissary. What brings you here, fair Jessamy and Lucienne?"

"We bring you gifts collected by Lord Morpheus, Your Grace. My Lord insisted on the courtesy and sent his raven with me as another sign of friendship," Lucienne explained with a smile. "He wishes to invite you to visit The Dreaming."

Love was taken aback. Not only was this her first visitor since her sons had come to live in this realm, but the raven currently affectionately nipping her fingers was Dream's right hand. She was always at his side, and yet here she was to formally invite Love for an audience.

Lucienne pulled a satchel from her side, opened the flap, and lay it on the white marble floor. Pothos gave it a curious glance, but at his mother's gentle touch, all suspicion melted. Jessamy landed by the bag, reaching her feathery head in and tugging out several objects.

A bowl of strawberries was first to be placed before the dais, so beautifully plump and ripe she could smell them from her throne. They glimmered in the soft sunset light, like flecks of gold lay in place of seeds. Next came a string of pearls, polished silver as the moon, which Jessamy gleefully dropped in her lap. Lucienne seemed to scold the bird for her boldness, but she continued anyway.

Last was an array of roses, bold red and the purest white. A flush crept up the goddess's cheeks, of course understanding the meaning. She thought for a moment perhaps the Endless wasn't aware of symbolic flowers, but each of these items was so specially tailored that she knew the offering was intentional.

"I– Of course, I accept, Lucienne," she stuttered out, careful fingers caressing the pearls in her lap. "Tell your king I am most grateful for his gifts. When does he request I arrive?"

"The next moon, Your Grace. You may bring your escort as well if you wish," Lucienne added, gesturing to the three lions before bowing again. "We look forward to your visit most ardently."

Dream had gone nearly mad preparing the place.

The castle was polished to perfection, not a single book or pane of stained glass out of place. And yet, he fretted so much that Jessamy had started nipping at his ears to distract him. It was most annoying, but he was secretly grateful for her playful attitude.

"It's fine. It is only a meeting that may seal our fates for eternity," he huffed, rubbing his face in his palms. Lucienne only gave him a few moments' notice to frantically fix his hair before she arrived.

He was first met with the utterly devastating clench around his heart at her presence. She wore a white gown that faded into the palest blue shimmering with the waves of the sea she walked across. As she approached, he realized it was the dress itself—she had waves of seafoam for skirts gently caressing her sandaled feet. The smile she gave him sent another pang in his chest, and he steeled himself.

Such was the effect of Love incarnate stepping into his realm. He had barely noticed the massive lion stalking at her side before they stood in front of him.

Love curtsied and bowed her head to him, trying to stifle a giggle when Jessamy cawed at her. "I thank you for such a special invitation, Lord Oneiros. It has been many years since I have set foot here."

"Far too long, Lady Inanna. Were the offerings to your liking?" he replied, somehow smoothly regaining his self-control. He took notice of how she used the name he'd used when they last met, and purposefully used one of hers from the earliest days. Perhaps she would appreciate that he remembered.

The blush across her face made him smile. "They were, my Lord. Very much so, thank you."

Dream offered her his arm, guiding them back toward the palace.

"I'm glad to hear it. And who is this esteemed companion you've brought with you?"

"His name is Anteros. He doesn't leave my side much these days, much like your Jessamy. I was quite surprised you sent her."

Upon hearing her name, Jessamy cawed again excitedly and leaped to the goddess's shoulder, preening under her gentle fingers. It pleased Dream to no end to see his raven already so fond of her. It was a ray of hope for the delicate situation ahead.

A thought pierced his sweetened daydreams, cocking his head. "Anteros, your son?"

"Yes, he... well, you know how it goes when the mortals stop worshipping us. When the old pantheons were dying out, some of my children chose to remain in my realm as lions rather than to fade with their era."

The lion beside them chuffed, rubbing his head affectionately against her hand.

"A very loyal creature indeed, then," he hummed, and Jessamy squawked. He smiled bashfully. "And, in honesty, she chose to go. For reasons you will soon understand, dear Jessamy was very eager to meet you."

Love was silent the rest of the walk, only nodding. She was trying to ponder the situation at hand. The offerings made this seem like an invitation of courtship, but Love was not a little godling anymore. Well aware of Dream's previous love affairs, and of the tendency other beings had to fall infatuated with her, she was suspicious.

But could that be what was really happening? Dream hadn't met with her in person in centuries. It seemed he could be courting her, but he was also stiff and nervous beside her. He looked downright embarrassed if she squinted.

The grandeur of the palace had all those thoughts cast aside. She gaped at it in awe, and Dream chuckled.

"Is it how you remember it? I can't be sure how much has changed since you left."

"It's more magnificent, even. The Dreaming is beautiful. It feels like home."

That thought had a blush rising up his neck, but thankfully she kept talking as he led her inside.

"Did you know I modeled my realm after it? Well, it's merely a little pocket compared to here, but it's my home now. There are shores always at sunset, and beaches of the softest sand like I remembered it from here."

"It sounds beautiful."

His soft words caught her attention, and when she turned to his fond gaze he looked away in embarrassment. He guided them to one of the chambers adjacent to his throne room and gestured to a table for them to sit. A feast appeared at a wave of Dream's hand, all delicacies from cultures that had worshipped her over the years. Warm rice and spiced stews, and fresh fruits littered the table. Even a large platter of meat appeared for Anteros, curled between them on the floor.

But all the gestures, his soft compliment—they reminded her of her skepticism.

"My Lord, why is it you invited me here?" Love asked, as politely as she could. "I do not mean to be rude. I only wonder, why the gifts? Why the sudden visit?"

Dream clasped his hands at his lips and gave her a nod of respect. "You are too clever to deceive, Love. Know that I would never attempt such a thing. I only wished to do right by you, before I had to tell you the news I was given by my brother."

Startled, she cocked her head, absently chewing on a piece of bread from the table.

Truth be told, Dream was terrified. He didn't like not having control, regardless of knowing that this would likely end in benefit for them both. There were too many ways he could potentially mess it up, and knowing his future made the courtship feel forced already. He could only hope that his faux bravery and calm on the subject would reassure her.

"Destiny has revealed a decree from his book... that we are to form a union. It was apparently a very long-discussed dilemma between him and the Fates. They think it mutually beneficial for the two of us."

"You... I am to marry you," she said, more as a statement than a question. Love had been left a little dumbfounded by his proclamation.

As gently as he could, Dream reached for her hand. She let him take it, curious as to what he would do.

"Your life is monumentally important to the world, Love," he began again, his deep voice much softer now, and soothed her hand with his thumb. "They have deemed it necessary to ensure your protection from ever dying away like your sons were at risk of."

Glancing down at Anteros obliviously enjoying his meal, she recoiled and pulled her hand away, hissing at him. "I am not a flower to be shielded, Dream of the Endless. You wish to cage me in a loveless union, under the guise of protection? Shall I become a trophy wife left to go mad like Hera, as you galavant around with mortal lovers?"

Dream read her eyes carefully, seeing a brewing storm within. He understood her fears and offense, having gone through the same feelings, but already he felt the need to try and soothe her.

"You know of all my previous love affairs?" he asked, knowing the answer. Love's eyes narrowed, but she nodded.

"I do."

"You were present, for all of them, my dear. Have I ever once been unfaithful?" He let the question hang in the air, and then tentatively offered up his hand again. "Have I ever once been at fault for not cherishing or loving them enough?"

A long sigh escaped her nose, but she didn't take his hand yet. "No."

"Then I assure you, you would be treated the same. Better, even, because Destiny seems to think you are the only one capable of truly captivating my passionate heart."

Finally, she relented, pinching her brow in one hand and laying the other in the warmth of his palm. It was all too much, right now—she couldn't refuse Destiny, it would happen anyway or disaster would form in the wake of her folly. And if he truly believed her union with his brother was the best for both of them, shouldn't she believe it?

"You of all beings must understand my hesitance. You rule the realm where gods are born, after all."

"How do you mean?"

Love swallowed thickly and reached for a goblet of dark wine. Her countenance had shifted darkly, reminding him that she had taken on many aspects in the eons since her birth as Love.

"I mean that I have little say in my affairs once the mortals put a face to me. They tell their stories, they call us into existence, and decree who is wed to whom. When I chose my lovers, they merely desired me for the beauty the humans created me with. I came into this world as an object of infatuation, Dream. I have never fully had a choice."

The goddess sipped at her goblet bitterly, not looking at him though she had squeezed his hand unconsciously. Dream took in her words with great remorse, already wishing he had done better in courting her. She didn't deserve love and marriages to be forced upon her. She deserved to be coveted, treasured, and worshipped like the ethereal being she was.

"Then I give you that choice, Love," Dream crooned, and he made her name sound like a term of endearment. Her head snapped up, scrutinizing him in confusion. "I grant you an open invitation to The Dreaming. You may come and go as you wish. I will even have a portal built if you choose, directly between our realms."

"Why do you do this?" Her voice came out a whisper, fearful and tense. The air around them felt thick, and Dream brushed soft pink lips against her knuckles experimentally.

"Because even if this is destined, I still wish to court you properly. The decisions for how this shall unfold reside with you. I will never force you into anything, but you deserved to know Destiny's words as much as I."

When she seemed to relax, he placed a firmer kiss on Love's hand before letting go, and gesturing to their meal. Tonight would be the first time in years that he cared to touch food, but he would do it to make her comfortable. She took note of this, of his clear intent to give her choice and peace.

"Now, let us dine, my Lady. And after, we can discuss arrangements further."

"Inanna," she corrected him, earning a surprised gaze. "Inanna is fine, no need for the titles. I prefer that name anyway."

"Morpheus, then. And... the pearls look divine on you," he replied with a sweet smile.

tags: @avtrbee​

[teelagurl558]

chapter six || light of a fading star

The king is home, but there is still much work to do, and much that haunts Inanna’s damaged heart.

masterlist

A/N: Sorry this one took a while! Life got hella busy and I’m finally on a much needed break as of today. This chapter is a bit longer too (~3.5k) so enjoy!

It was bittersweet, really. Dream had imagined his homecoming so often that he had forgotten what could have happened in his absence. To find most of his subjects gone, a kingdom that thought he'd abandoned them, and his home crumbling... it was devastating.

But there was light in the darkness. Beside him was his lover, and his loyal librarian. When he set foot in the decaying castle, there was a great ruckus of excited roaring and chuffing, three lions tripping each other down the stairs toward him.

"Oh, my boys."

The greeting was breathless and broken, one that made the two women share a fond look as the king embraced the three beasts nuzzling his legs. They pawed at him, growling and purring happily while he tried his best to stay upright.

There was hope. Though, at his failed attempt to restore the palace, he realized that this hope was going to require much more work.

Love didn't say a word when he and Lucienne hurried off to collect offerings and summon the Fates for help. She knew there would be a rush of emotion and work to do when he came home. And now was a moment she could sit on the marble stairs and breathe, because the weight of worlds had lifted so fast off her shoulders it knocked the wind out of her.

The king was back. And there was still so much to fix, so much that was broken. Was he still the same man, even? It seemed so when she rescued him, but who could know? Doubts swirled in her mind, and she was so tired, so painfully tired from running the dying realm and searching for him on her own. He didn't even know, yet—

"May I ask where you're going, sire?"

Lucienne's call got the goddess's attention, rising from her hunched position swiftly as the pair reentered. When Dream answered London, both women scowled, hurriedly following him out to the dock.

"Didn't you just spend the last hundred years there?" the librarian asked, then immediately put her hands up in apology at Dream's challenging glare. Love laid a hand on her arm. She knew the other had grown more accustomed to speaking freely with her, more used to bearing responsibility.

"What she means, darling," Love said carefully. "Is that you've just been gone a long time and going out alone while you're still vulnerable is—"

"Vulnerable? You think me weak?"

His defensive tone startled her, but she tried to placate him. "Never, my love. But you are weaker than you normally are, is that not why you seek the tools at all? I can go with you."

"No, Inanna, I cannot ask that of you." Dream seemed to calm a little. "You have your own duties to attend, which I am sure missed you dearly while you were searching for me."

"Morpheus... look at me," she pleaded finally, holding out her hands in defeat. With a frown, Dream took her in.

It was then he really noticed how changed she looked. His lover was thinner, her sunken features shrouded in a silky gown that was now black instead of her usual bright pastels. Love's eyes were dulled, and she looked so tired it tempted him to bring out what sand he could offer immediately. But there was fire in them; determination and hardened strength. His lips moved in silent question.

"My duties are to you, Morpheus. That is what I have devoted myself to."

"But your realm—"

"My realm is gone! Why do you think my lions skulk through the palace, and the doves hide in the broken rafters? I poured everything I am into keeping this kingdom alive, keeping your people's spirits alive. That may not have added up to enough, and I'm sorry I did not have the power to save it. But this is my home now."

Dream hardly moved, pausing for a long moment. "Then you should not accompany me anyway, as you need rest to rebuild even more than I."

The goddess pursed her lips at that, taking a step back. Lucienne tried to draw the attention away from her deflation, asking that the king take a raven. When that was adamantly shut down too, Love simply nodded and looped her arm in the librarian's.

"Come then, Lucienne," she sighed and turned from Dream. "Let us not delay the king further."

Dream frowned, but he didn't have time to think it over. If he was to fix things, if he was to please her and marry her how he'd wished for over a hundred years, he would have to retrieve his tools.

Lucienne talked her into doing it. Rather, that was what Love was telling herself as she cursed the weather and stubbornly marched on. The torrential rain mocked her irritation, but at least she had a raven to follow to Dream this time.

Dream in the meantime was arguing with said raven under the cover of an alley arch, finally deciding that he might be useful. He had just knelt down to say so when the raven peeked around the corner.

"Sir, uh. Caw! We have company."

The Endless's gaze shot up, and he frowned in a mix of disbelief, annoyance, and fluttering affection. "What on Earth are you doing out here?"

"Coming to save your ass before you piss off another otherworldly entity by yourself, what's it look like?" she sassed, holding a hand over her face in vain. Dream rolled his eyes, stepping into the downpour to bring her under cover with them.

"You know her?"

"Did you not meet her in The Dreaming, Matthew?"

Matthew shook his head, as did the goddess. He cocked his head at her in interest though. "Remember how I said I only just died? Lucienne sent me out to you as soon as I popped up."

"Lady Inanna is to be your queen, once I gather my tools and return to my full strength," Dream explained stoicly, his actions in great contrast to his tone as he tenderly wrapped her shaking body against him in his coat. She gave a little wave, then turned to glare him in the eyes despite pitifully dripping with rain.

"Did you really think for a second I'd let you run off to Hell alone, after I just got you back, with a newbie as your only backup? No offense, Matthew."

"Caw! None taken."

"Morpheus, you have been away for a century. They are bound to take advantage of that. Think like a diplomat. If we are to be married, then it is best we show them our strength, which means—"

She was cut off by a kiss, tender and excited. Dream was smirking when he pulled away. "Thank you, my love. I should have extended the offer to have you by my side, especially after so long apart. I am sorry."

"You are damned right you should have," she huffed, kissing him again for good measure. He tried not to laugh at her frazzled state in his arms, rubbing her back in a futile attempt to warm her. "If you are going to march right back into a trap, I am going to be there this time."

"I find that I can rarely deny your requests anyway, my dearest. Spoiled thing, you are." The king's sweet teasing overtook the exasperated worries his raven voiced below them.

Love hummed, equally unbothered by Matthew ranting that they should be updating Lucienne while Dream poured sand into his palm. The librarian was well aware of where they would be headed when Love left. Besides, they still had Matthew's watchful eye on them.

"Fuck it I guess, let's go to Hell!"

The air when the sand lifted was dry, and thankfully the travel had swiped the rain from the goddess's drenched skin. It was warmer here, but the place was filthy and the crying, writhing masses of the damned everywhere encouraged her to shorten her dark dress, opting for boots and leggings beneath it. Dream gave her a reassuring nod before they started onward to the gates.

Once the gong had been rung, a demon's footsteps shook the ground as he approached. Love quickly beckoned to Matthew, inviting him up onto her shoulder away from the greedy fingers in the walls.

"Greetings, Squatterbloat," Dream called gruffly, his tone powerful and intimidating. "We seek an audience with your sovereign."

Love tried her best to match his aura, but she had never quite mastered that even in his absence. It wasn't a tone she liked to embody anymore, but she could still be a fierce opponent when needed.

"And who might you be?"

"I am the King of Dreams, ruler of the Nightmare Realms. I have brought with me my betrothed."

The guardian hummed in amusement. "Yes, my clown. So where's your crown?"

"Guard your tongue, demon," the goddess hissed before Dream could reply, fire in her gaze. He reached for her gently, contrasting the dangerous smile he gave Squatterbloat's bold claim.

"The ruler of Hell will not react kindly to one insulting an honored guest. And I am a guest in this realm as much as I am monarch of mine."

"So where's your ruby?"

Love wanted to carve the taunting grin from the demon's face, and felt the huff of a laugh from her lover turn the air cold. Power exuded from him in waves, not near his normal but enough to frighten even the boldest opponents. He took a step forward with a challenge in his darkening eyes.

"Shall I use it to haunt your dreams, and your waking hours too? Or will you open the gates to Hell and let us through?"

The demon seemed impressed and opened the gates, still chanting as he guided them onward into the depths of damnation. Dream kept ahead, making sure that his presence was the first felt in the realm and that he could protect his lover should they walk into a trap. He was secretly grateful that Matthew was clinging close to her, another set of eyes to protect the treasure of his fragile heart.

"Do you think the Morningstar is expecting us?" Love asked after a while, calling up to her lover.

He glanced over his shoulder at them, warily scanning the trees. "I have to believe they were expecting me, at least. They would know my helm is here. However you, my dear, perhaps are an unexpected blessing upon their kingdom this day."

The compliment and the light smile he sent her made the goddess blush, happy for his attempts at soothing her. Matthew crowed on her shoulder, cocking his head.

"I... didn't know he had that in him," he mused quietly. "That- softness, I guess."

"He is a true lover at heart, Matthew. But it is in his best interest to guard such a thing, for at his stature it can be a weakness. He's been hurt far too many times, and I have seen all of them."

"Wait, you've seen all his past relationships? How does that work?"

She gave him an amused grin, stroking his feathers lightly. "I am not just a goddess, little one. I am the embodiment of love in all its forms. Morpheus is a unique creature in that I have been present, in some way, for all of his past affairs. When he loves, he is intense, just as he is with other facets of his life. He gives all of himself. And that can be a dangerous thing."

They watched the man in question still scoping out their surroundings protectively up ahead. Love had been careful to watch her volume, lest demons harvest such information for malicious intent. The raven cawed in thought, unconsciously rubbing against her gentle fingers.

"Is that a good thing for you, then?" he asked, all innocent curiosity. "He said you two were engaged. If you're the goddess of love, then I'd hope the boss can act up to those standards."

Love let out a giggle, gaining Dream's attention and a curious glance she waved off. "He might be stubborn and rude, but Morpheus spent many years showing me he would do his best, for me. I would not have agreed to be his wife if I thought he would not."

That seemed to satisfy the raven, who gave her a little bow in thanks and decided to ask about Hell instead. She was happy to have him to talk to, and happy that Dream's new raven seemed so eager. Jessamy's loss still weighed heavy on their hearts, but Matthew would be a good help. She could sense the soul in him, yearning to do something good.

A familiar voice stopped Dream in his tracks, freezing on the never-ending stairs. Of all the things he was worried about coming to haunt him here in this realm, his former love was not one. His name in her voice sounded like a broken prayer, wishing for him to release her. How dare the demon bring them this way, when he has his betrothed now hurrying to catch up behind him?

Dream sent a fiery glare to the creature before his facade softened, addressing Nada. She cried, and it broke his already cracking heart. The tender grasp slowly forming around his fingers only made him wish to cry more. How would she feel?

"It has been ten thousand years, Nada," he breathed, pain in every word as he was forced to see Nada like this. "I still care for you. But I have not yet forgiven you."

Love was trying to both comfort him and force him to confront his rash decision, but Dream wouldn't have it and pulled away to continue onward. He had a task at hand to focus on, though he knew he'd be hearing of it later. Dream was not a creature who ever stopped caring for those he loved, and she knew that.

So instead, the goddess turned to Nada, nothing but gentleness in her gaze. "I am sorry I cannot free you, my child. But I grant you this."

She held out her hand, and through the thorny bars, Nada clasped it with a sniffle. Love's aura glowed, soft warmth surrounding them and flowing into the tortured soul. A blessing—it was all she could give.

"Your heart is strong, and that strength will help you feel no more pain. I will do my best to bring him back."

With that promise, Nada squeezed her hand in thanks. And then they had to part, the goddess rushing to catch up with Dream and his raven.

Matthew had followed closer to his master now, no doubt asking about the woman he had damned, and Love was grateful for the moment to collect herself. It wasn't that Dream still cared for the human—she knew he did, as he loved any who had captured his heart before—but that he refused to let her console him. He refused her comforts, and he never would have done so a century ago.

Never mind it. He had suffered, he was going to have changed. Love had to focus on preparing to face the Morningstar now.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Dream?" the monarch grinned. "Come to join forces? To acknowledge the sovereignty of Hell?"

Dream smirked at them, careful still to stand just in front of his beloved. "You know my opinions on that, Lightbringer."

"Opinions change," they shrugged, then took in the goddess. "My sincerest apologies! Freyja, the Lady of Love and War, what a pleasant surprise to make your acquaintance. What brings such a beautiful creature here with the Dreamlord?"

"I am her betrothed, Lightbringer, therefore it is only right she accompany me on such a visit," he explained, his smaller frame standing strong before the fallen angel. "We've come because my helm of state was stolen from me. I believe one of your demons has it. I should like it back."

The diplomacy frankly bored Love, but she tried to pay attention knowing how treacherous interactions of this level could be. Matthew noticed her wariness and perched at her shoulder again. She found herself missing Jessamy's playful nipping at her ears and braids, but his company was comforting nonetheless. It grounded her, and the two shared a look of concern when Dream accepted the challenge of a duel for his helm.

"If I may, is such a decision wise?" the goddess asked carefully, stepping forward despite Dream's surprised look. "Lord Morpheus is just as much a monarch as you are, Lightbringer. Such an arrangement seems rather tactless."

While Dream started to open his mouth to discourage her intervention, the Morningstar gave her a hollow sympathetic smile. "I understand your concerns, my Lady, but here my hands are tied. The laws of Hell permit the demon to state his terms."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," the demon grinned wickedly, turning to face Dream. "A duel of champions, then. If you win, you get your helm. If I win... your pretty little companion is mine."

The chamber ran cold, and it was hard to be certain whether that came from Dream's rage, Love's dread, or Lucifer's amusement.

"Choronzon, you make a bold claim," the Morningstar mused.

Dream was not so intrigued. While the goddess desperately tried to maintain her composure, hearing eons-old voices haunting her mind, his entire form stiffened protectively.

"A claim which is entirely out of bounds. She is not to be a part of this endeavor."

"Then why ever did you bring such a treasure with you?" Lucifer's statement boiled the ichor in his veins, indecision marring his eyes. "What other purpose to bring something so beautiful and, well, lovely, than to have a bargaining tool?"

The smile the angel gave the goddess made her shiver, and she saw Dream start to refuse. Though the rising terror in her chest wanted him to, she knew this was the only option. This was exactly what he promised her would never happen again when they first spoke of their arrangement. And yet, times had changed; The Dreaming was their home, it was a part of her lover, and he needed to regain his power.

She moved to his side quickly, stifling her fears with a deep breath before lacing their fingers. He peered over at her, agony on his features.

"There is no other way, is there, darling?"

"I cannot risk you—"

"You cannot risk The Dreaming. Not any more than you already have," she argued softly, and he sighed knowing she was right. She stroked his cheek. "You will win. I have no doubt. And when this is all over we shall return safely home together."

"I love you," Dream murmured, quiet enough he could hope only she heard. Love gave him a gentle smile.

"And I you. Do not be afraid. I am not, because of you."

His resolve hardened, and he squeezed her fingers before facing his opponent. He gave Matthew a silent mental order to get her out of this place should anything go awry.

To her credit, though, Love was right. It was terrifying to watch, hiding behind Mazikeen while the raven tried to rouse his master in what felt like their darkest hour. The stress of the fight burned into the goddess's exhausted bones, fighting not to tremble here. It took all of her will to force down the painful memories tormenting her at the prospect of losing. Lucifer was enjoying their small taste of victory far too much, but the second the goddess's strong gaze locked with her lover's on the floor, he began to rise.

The Dreamlord had never wanted to leave a place so quickly as he did seeing the cheated looks being given to his beloved Inanna after the duel. His helm in hand, he pulled her away from the palace as fast as he could, rushing the three of them out to safety after his formal goodbyes.

It was then he noticed her gasping, and stopped. Love hunched when they did, and she was so pale it sent a shiver of fear through his heart. It was like watching a mask fall suddenly, all of the strength leaving the goddess in a whoosh. Her eyes were dull and her features sunken, her whole countenance looking so very frail it frightened him. Dream knew these signs—she was detrimentally exhausted, inside and out.

"Inanna," he breathed, hurrying to catch her arms. She fell against his chest heavily, breathing in his scent to comfort her racing heart. "Are you alright? Did they harm you?"

"I am fine, love. I'm merely a little tired, just give me a moment and we can continue on."

He frowned, cradling her face in one hand to look her over. It was bad, and realization began to dawn on him. "No, you need rest. I know not how long you fought to free me, and now you have accompanied me on a perilous quest as well. I know how it must have frightened you. You need rest, my dove. Please."

"What about you? You still need your ruby."

"What I need is to know I shall come back home to you safe and well, Inanna. Let me send you back to The Dreaming. You can rest and I will fetch the ruby."

The Endless could tell she didn't like the idea, but her physical body was failing her and she really had no energy to argue. Thankfully, she knew the ruby was likely still just in the hands of another human and hoped it would be like his encounter with Constantine.

"Only if you promise you will be coming back home to me," she murmured, and his heart melted. He leaned in and promised her with a kiss, tender and intimate in his embrace.

"I will always come back to you, love of mine. Now, let me take care of my bride. I have a century of failing to do so to make up for."