11. MORPHEUS|DREAM OF THE ENDLESS X READER/OC
Past the rampage outside the palace, the cellar was eerily quiet, not even the screams of the dreamfolk could penetrate the thick underground walls. The damp air clung to my hair and clothes, as my cloak dragged after me, heavily on the floor. The two gods wrecking the gardens above ground escaped a while ago and declared their rule over the Dreaming, throwing its rightful ruler into the dungeons. I was inclined to ignore the situation for a while, hoping that Morpheus has everything in his grip, but alas, he was still too young. I had no doubt in his capabilities, but governing a realm was completely different to protecting it. This was a steep learning curve. I came to see him, though bound by ancient laws I wasn’t about to help him, but I had to know if he still had the spirit to fight on.
There was only one cell. It's not often that someone has to be imprisoned in the Dreaming, and there are far better methods for holding someone. Yet they still decided to simply shut him behind bars. How beast-like.
He huddled in the corner, a fuming pile of black fabrics and chains. He was immensely angry and scared, but the ice of his desperation broke as soon as he caught sight of me. He leapt towards the door, a cuffed hand reaching through the iron bars. On the wall behind him, I noticed signs of the Endless, scratched into the stone. An ankh, a sword, a heart, a ring, a flower. He improvised a gallery for himself, unable to access his own. He tried to call his siblings.
“You came at last.” Even at a few thousand years old he still retained some of his boyish charm from before the time of his first love. Only now deep lines of loss and heartbreak grooved his elegant face.
“I’m not here to help.” His hopeful expression dropped and suddenly I realized that I don’t remember the last time I saw him. “You know I can’t.”
“Of course. Neither can my siblings.”
“Have you tried all of them?”
He shamefully looked away.
There was bad blood between Dream and Desire, I had no need to ask why he didn’t call on his sister-brother sooner.
“You have to put aside your disagreements, otherwise you will rot in this cell for an eternity.”
“Again, I’m not about to break the rules.”
His hand fell limply to his side.
“I felt like I have to be here. It's been a while since I saw you too.”
The thousands of stars in his eyes flickered then died down. He pulled his tattered regal attire tighter around himself, the fabric making a tearing sound in protest.
“You felt like you have to be here? Did Destiny set this up after he was unable to answer my call?”
“No. We’ve been distant, he has a lot to do. It’s based on pure instinct that I’m here.”
He quietly mulled over what I said, then returned to the corner of his cell, looking at the cravings that the etched into the wall longingly.
“Tell me, will I ever get out of here?”
“I believe so, though I cannot say for sure. The future is not mine to know.” I leaned closer to the bars, so I could link my sight with his. “But the lesson you will learn from this is important, never forget it. You might need it in the future. Call Desire.”
To my surprise, my personal room in the Dreaming is still intact. It’s a time capsule now, buried in the castle, collecting dust. I was free to leave and find it, the daemons don’t care much where I am as long as I don’t travel between planes. Invisibly the collar still clutches my neck and from time to time a strong hand yanks on it, checking if I’m still in line.
I grab the duvet and pull it off the mattress, creating a swirl of dust that gently dances towards the floor in the light streaming through the window that I just opened recently. The air is heavy in here with the musky traces of loneliness and tears. Did he ever come here to think about me? It’s strange that he didn’t order Mervyn to demolish it after I went missing.
Even my writing desk is here, tucked into a safe corner, away from the sounds and wonders of the Dreaming so I could concentrate. I should work now, but I can’t bring myself to do it. My mind is elsewhere, far, far away. Giving up I set my pen down, so it’s there as a reminder to do my job. But I will deal with it later.
Suddenly through the keyhole, a tiny dancing flame skips into the room, not bigger than the tip of my finger. It’s curiously bright, and only now do I realize that the sun had dipped below the horizon. The flying cluster of flames beckons and I follow without a question. It takes me through a labyrinth of hallways, big and small ones alike, adorned with framed artworks and delicate wooden inlays. I know where we are going, and we stop in front of the exact door I was expecting. The flame dissipates.
My hand hovers above the handle before I push it down the lock clicks open as a wave of darkness pours over the sill. This shadow of the night sky envelopes me as I enter.
He stands by his bed, his back turned to me, like a column of stars and bright galaxies in space. This is his personal chamber, one I’ve visited many times before. It looks the same as the day he escaped his captivity. He didn’t even make the bed since, the wrinkles outline our forms tangled into each other on his first free day.
“You called me.” For a moment I wish he wouldn’t turn so that I don’t have to face his blazing eyes, but then he does. His pupils are two effervescent pits, muddled with anger, yet there is so much pain that he tries to cover, but it bubbles to the surface. Over his hazy eyes, his eyelids flutter, fighting an escaping tear. His chin dips before he looks up again. I weather his silence.
“A year.” He speaks finally. “More than that.”
“I would apologise, but that would only incite your rage.” As I pick up the blankets his hand lashes out, but he retracts it almost immediately.
“She found it out by an accident. And I didn’t tell her the whole truth.”
His timbre is a searing whisper that slithers across the floor and bites at my heels.
Tentatively I let the magic that hides my chains go. Wearing it after all these months I feel bare without it, overly exposed, but this is nothing compared to what he had to endure, I remind myself. His lips part in shock and I take this moment to make the bed and smooth out our past outlines. He observes without a word.
“I never meant to hurt you, Morpheus. I know I did, but I wish I wouldn’t have.”
“Who did this?” I feel his looming breath tickling the nape of my neck. It melts away the touch of the iron collar in an instant.
“The past Hell Lord, Lucifer Morningstar.” I turn, our faces inches away from each other. “There is no way to reach them now. We all know what happened.”
“And your leash? Who holds it now?”
“Azazel. Your hospitality demands that you don’t hurt him while he resides within your walls.” His closeness is encapsulating, and all of a sudden the room evaporates around us, bringing back similar memories from the past. His breath hitches in his throat and he bows his head, hands fisting by his side.
“May I touch you?” Softly my words travel into his ears and Morpheus shudders.
“Yes.” He speaks to the floor. “You may.”
I gingerly place my fingers on either side of his jaw and almost immediately he leans into my palms, putting some of his weight onto me. His chest heaves as his heart crash against his ribcage with every beat. I’m no different.
“Look at me please.” Reluctantly he raises his chin, clouded eyes staring into my soul and I can see the stars twinkling in them. “Can you forgive me for the pain I have caused?”
“Only if you can forgive me for ever doubting you.” A tear trails down his cheek freely as we inhale each other's essence. His is dark, like burnt pine on a summer evening when the wind carries wildflowers across the valleys, but something more ethereal than that. His body is pressing against mine now, arms finding their way around my waist, and he just holds me, soaks me in. Due to him leaning against me my legs press against the bedframe. Morpheus is all pleading, a resonating shout bouncing around his soul, asking for what he couldn’t have until now. I offer him what he wants by angling myself in a way that he barely has to move to take it and against all of his desires he turns into a statue of disbelief. Shocked he pulls away, then comes back, testing me, eyebrows drawn together in a perplexed frown. His quick breaths skim over my lips and I can already taste his mouth on mine. I press my forehead against his, our skins burning up.
His kiss is tentative at first, barely a touch before he breaks it, franticly searching for my eyes. I know he understands when his lashes flutter as he cups my face between his elegant, long fingers and pulls me in, flush against his torso. A low moan sounds deep from his throat as he takes my lips again, gently, needly. I embrace him and we fall on the bed, he is over me, still soaking in every bit of contact he can, afraid that I can evaporate from his hold in any given second. He has to stop for air, his cheeks flushed, overflowing emotions radiating from him in waves.
“My Dream Lord.” Combing his hair back with my fingers I start to feel his weight over me. “I’m so sorry. I was so blind.”
“Say that again.” He rasps, his words bursting with desire to belong to someone. “Say that I’m yours.”
“My Dream Lord.” I pepper kisses along his jawline, repeating this sentence. “My Dream Lord, would you let me love you when all of this is over?”
Doubting, he pushes himself up again, but I grab onto his coat, stopping him before he can get too far.
“Love of mine,” his arms tremble. “My kiss should be the only answer you need.”
And as he kisses me again it’s like velvet flowing over my body, light, gentle when he pulls me up on the mattress, laying me against the pillows, all without his lips leaving mine. My fingertips trace his spine, kneading through his back muscles and he tenses up a bit before his body goes limp. He doesn’t pry, he doesn’t initiate anything more, he is just content to be touched. And there is a certain comfort in him draping over me, like a layer of protection between me and my captors. As his cold palm soothes the burning inflicted by my collar I sigh into his lips and feel a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.
“Stay with me tonight.” He asks. “I’ve been lonely for so long.”
I guide him next to me so that he rests on the pillow next to me.
“If you wish me to do that. I want to make you feel loved, I’ve been a fool not doing that before. But not tonight.” He tilts his head so he can look me in the eye. “Not while I have a leash.”
“I’m content even if I can only hold you.” Using his midnight black cape he covers both of us. “I will need time.”
“Not how you think.” The stars dancing in his iris dim, and some start blinking as he is thinking back. “I haven’t shown myself to anyone since my escape.”
“I feel tied to this form, but I find it hard not to hate it.” His nostrils flare when he sharply draws in air. His heart is still beating fast. I draw him in so his head rests comfortably in the crook of my neck.
“Such things are hard to unlearn, but I will never ask you to do anything that you are not ready for.”
Of course, he does. He always did…
