#sandman morpheus

The Dreaming withered in his absence. Rivers stilled, flowers closed, libraries crumbled. And still he endured, his eyes burning with stars older than gods, a king stripped to stillness.

Until one night, something changed.

Not the circle, not the prison, not the chains of glass and spell. But the air itself—shifting like a tide. A mortal’s dream had wandered too close.

Not to the waking world above. Not to the cellar. But to him.

The sea of stars that always hung behind the glass stirred, shimmering brighter. A figure stepped into view, hesitant yet unafraid. Bare feet on starlight, hair spilling like ink over her shoulders, eyes steady in the impossible dark.

She drew closer until the starlit sea lapped against the glass. And then she raised her hand, pressing her palm to the smooth surface.

A voice filled the air—not spoken with lips, but carried on the gravity of storms, the weight of night itself.

“You are not supposed to be here.”

The woman did not flinch. “And yet,” she murmured, her voice low but certain, “here I am.”

For the first time in years, his gaze sharpened, focusing on her as though she were not merely a dream, but something more.

“My name is [Y/N],” she said, her hand still against the glass.

“Leave,” he commanded. The sound cracked the silence like thunder. “Before they notice you.”

She did. The dream dissolved, the stars retreating, and the silence folded back in on itself.

But she returned the next night. And the night after. And the night after that.

She never begged, never asked questions, never sought to claim or command. She stood in silence with him, her palm pressed to the glass, her eyes steady and calm.

She offered nothing but presence.

And in her presence, something impossible stirred.

For the first time in an age, the Endless remembered the taste of something he had long abandoned — a small, stubborn, dangerous thing.

Hope.

READ NEXT Chapter 1 — The Dream That Would Not Fade

Dream stretches his hand out for you, close enough for you to see it as it is – An offering. You take it, and slip your cold fingers into his own. His hands are warm. It’s so strikingly different from the mood of The Dreaming.

He guides you up the steps to the throne, your hand gently resting against his own. The helm is secure around your arms, and you hold it tight as you climb the winding staircase.

His hold continues, even as you reach the platform of the thrones. Dream guides you to sit on his throne, pulling you away from your own, only releasing his hold when he’s seated you onto his seat. You hold on just a little longer, and tug his hand closer, pressing one, single, kiss around his fingers.

There’s a rare, but proper smile on his lips now.

Lucienne clears her throat, reminding you of her presence.

Right.

The concerns Lucienne voices hold no lies, but a king settled deeply into his way cannot see other paths. Still . . . it doesn’t hurt to try.

“Lucienne is correct,” you tell him, still tracing the lines on his helm. The stars above the throne room shine below you. So different from the ones you’ve painted across the sky. “The night is high in the Waking World. I can easily bring The Corinthian back. I am due for a visit soon — The stars . . . They . . . they call my name.”

“The Corinthian is my responsibility.” Dream stands tall, speaking to you with a voice that demands no arguments. “My duty.”

You sit tall on his throne, and do not dignify him with a response.

Dream leans forward, almost bowing before you.

The helm in your hold somehow becomes colder. Still, you bring the helm to his head, and place it on him until you could no longer see his eyes. There’s a small part of you that begs, yelling at you to rip it off his head.

Dream looks at you through the lenses on his helm. The weight of an Endless’ gaze is heavy, and this one never seems to look away. “Will you continue to be displeased with me?”

“You can rectify my displeasure when you return.” You press your lips on the helm, offering a bit of your powers to him. “The stars will guide your travels. I cannot do anything once you have arrived — You will be unprotected.”

You press your head against the helmet, letting your eyes flutter to a close.

“I will return,” he says, voice muffled through the helm.

“Let me come with you.”

Dream presses you back into his throne. “There is none I trust more with The Dreaming than you.”

Sand is thrown into the air. It grows and swirls, and it takes the king in its whirlwind.

The queen slumps around his throne, staring at the myriad of stars painted above by the king. “Be back soon.”

There are no stars in The Dreaming. The above, the blow, and the in-between — All are creations of Dream. That means so are the very stars above you. The Dreaming is a vast land; an infinite bubble separated from the universe that birthed you into existence.

The stars above the throne room glitter, each shining and flaring like an actual constellation . . . but you cannot feel the connection of the universe through them. The stars in The Dreaming are silent, a symbolic piece placed into the sky for those who built their life in its warmth, but you know better.

You lean your head on the armrest of the throne, allowing the growing strain on your neck to settle as you stare at these silent stars. The particular patter above the throne mimics the exact position the night you wed an Endless.

C . . .Cr . . .

It starts off small, impossibly small.

A single crack appears through the very fabric of this reality.

 . . . Cr . . .

Crack!

The damage to the stars mimic shattering glass. The cracks spread through its very reality and onto the marble beams. The colors . . . they start to fade, growing dimmer with every passing second. The heart of The Dreaming stands proud, even as the edges of the land begin to crumble.

Yet, you do not move.

You stay on his throne, curling deeper into the seat. The weight of it barrels deep into your shoulders.

Footsteps sound echo around the chamber. It’s precise. It’s quick. It’s efficient. You do not need to turn to know who it is.

“My lady . . . ?” Lucienne calls out for you. She explains everything you already know. The Dreaming is dying – Fast. The land is turning grey with each tree dying, its leaves returning to dust. The stars . . . they’re dimming. “I’ve gotten reports all over the area. The residents are in a state of panic, and with lord Morpheus gone—”

“A moment, Lucienne.” Your voice is soft as you lie listlessly on his throne, but it still carries the weight of it. “It seems . . . something has happened to my husband. A few moments, that’s all.”

Lucienne lowers her gaze. “Yes, my lady.”

A moment, that’s all you really need. Just . . . a short . . . moment.

The Dreaming is impossibly cold now, and the chill settles into your bones as you descend the steps to the throne. You stare ahead; gaze locked to the impossibly long hallway. You don’t think your heart could take seeing it decay any further.

Lucienne follows when you walk past her.

“The residents are ordered to the palace immediately,” you say, keeping your back towards her. This isn’t the time to break, not when The Dreaming and its people rely on you. “This is the heart of The Dreaming – it will be the last to decay. Once it is safe, they are free to return to their homes.”

“What will you do?”

You continue walking, even as Lucienne stops following. “Change.”

The hallways of the castle open up to you. The stones are not as vibrant anymore nor are the painting on the wall. The Dreaming is decaying. Its truth settles deep into your bones. You walk across the winding halls until you reach the private quarters. It’s a single door etched into the wall of an infinite hallway.

It recognizes your touch, and it opens to you with a single push.

There’s a book tossed into the little nook by the window. It’s where you were lounging this morning as Dream read its contents to you.

Who will read to you now?

A mug stands on the table, forgotten. You told Dream you would have it removed the night before. There’s no one left to remind you.

You run your hands across the table, glancing at all the items – some yours, some his, some you do not know who it belongs to.

“Where are you?” You whisper into the room, hoping for a response.

It never comes.

Lucienne makes a tally of all the residents in The Dreaming, sighing with relief when every resident is accounted for. They settle into the great hall with a low murmur, asking questions she doesn’t know the answer to.

Merv tries his best to repair any cracks he sees, but it returns the moment he turns his back. Taramis offers a drink to everyone who comes in, and Lucienne knows it’s her way of reassuring the residents.

The decay has yet to destroy the castle, but the colors have already faded. Her once vibrant home is losing its warmth.  

Lucienne is scared, and she does not know what to do. There are very few things that make her scared, and even less things she doesn’t know what to do about. She’s done something about the residents. She’s done something about their unease. She’s done something about their worries. But she cannot do anything about her dying home, or the state of her master.

The murmur dies down into complete silence.

Lucienne turns as the door to the grand hallway opens. She watches, as all of them do, as the lady of The Dreaming appears on the top of the steps, looking down at all of them. Dread hits her with the gentleness of a tidal wave, crashing against her over and over and over and over again – For the lady of The Dreaming is wearing her symbols of office.

You remove the hood from your head. It’s difficult to tell where you were looking, not with the blindfold wrapped around your eyes. There’s a moment, a small moment, that worry gnaws on Lucienne – You could trip with your eyes bound by a blindfold.  It’s a foolish concern, of course, for the vision of a Celestial is not limited by something as trivial as eyes.

The residents of The Dreaming all stare at their lady . . . their queen. All look to her for guidance as their homes continue to decay.

You do not speak a single word.

You do not need to.

For Lucienne knows that stars do not speak when they guide – They shine like a beacon across the dark night.

You descend the steps in silence, and Lucienne swears she sees stardust trail behind you. All heads bow as you walk past. They do not rise, not until the doors to the castle close. Only Lucienne rises her head and follows after you.

It’s difficult . . . more than difficult if you were being honest, downright impossible if you were really being honest . . . to see The Dreaming in this state. You do not let your home’s decay stop you.

Lucienne follows you across the bridge, and through the decay, and out the ivory gates. The sound of crashing waves is a small comfort. It temps you to enjoy its shore, but you walk past the sand and head through the pier.

You reach the end of the pier, watching the deep waters swirl with the dreams of mortals. Only then do you turn. “My loyal librarian,” you say, smiling. “Have you come to see me off?”

Lucienne glances at the waters below. It’s getting wilder. “Will you be getting lord Morpheus?”

“There isn’t time.” You do not know why you were stalling. Maybe . . . just maybe . . . it’s time to accept that you were frightened.

“How about his siblings?” she says. “Or, even yours.”

“When we were wed, Destiny left me a gift.” You pull the hood over your head. “It was just a couple words strung together . . . I didn’t understand what he meant until now.”

“I don’t understand.”

“A Celestial holds great power,” you tell her, playing with the ring around your finger. “It’s nothing in the face of an Endless, but it should be enough.”

Lucienne stares at you, searching for eyes she cannot see. “Did Destiny foresee this?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” You stare ahead, looking at where your home decays. “Dream is out there, cut off from The Dreaming. That is why it is dying, but he is The Dreaming, and The Dreaming is him. If something happens to our home, I fear it might . . . ”

You cannot finish your sentence.

“Those waters were not meant for you.” Lucienne takes a step towards you. “My lady, it could kill you if you throw yourself into it.”

“I cannot let my home be destroyed, nor can I allow the waking world to suffer any longer” you say. “I can hear it, Lucienne. The universe is crying.”

“I am begging you to think about this for a moment,” Lucienne says. “You have been away from the waking world for some time now.”

“I am a Celestial.” You stand proud, staring her down. “I am every star in the universe – every single one that has ever been made, and every single one that will ever be made.”

“But you are not in the universe, you are in The Dreaming, cut-off from the cosmos.” Lucienne takes another step closer. “If we lose you –”

“I will not repeat myself.”

“Very well, my lady.” Lucienne bows. “I apologize for speaking out of turn.”

You pull her into a hug, wrapping her deeply into your body. “You have nothing to apologize for,” you say. “This is not your fault.”

Lucienne takes a moment to answer, and you do not mention the tears you see pricking her eyes. “Is there any way I could help?”

“A small favor is all I need.” You slip your ring off your finger, and wrap it around her hand. “He will return . . . I’m not sure if I will.”

There’s a pleading look on Lucienne’s face. It almost makes you turn back.

“Go back to the castle.” You turn your back towards her, facing the water. “I leave The Dreaming to you until its master returns.”

You wait until Lucienne is barely a spec of dust, and then some more. Only then do you reach for the waters, watching its ripples flow across the surface. There really is no point in delaying the inevitable, not when your home is decaying.

“You are my home, and you are hurting.” You whisper into the water. “Your master left me his authority. Heed to my command – Let me help you.”

The water ripples once . . . twice . . . thrice. In the water, a projection of Dream appears on the reflection. You dip your hands into the water. A shadow of a grasp brushes your fingers. It clamps down on your wrist, and pulls you into its waters.

The trees bloom.

The colors brighten.

The cracks mend.

Lucienne tries to enjoy the sight around her. She digs deep into her to find the joy, but . . .

There was a time when the Dreaming felt like home.

Not because of its endless halls or the stars that shimmered above its skies, but because wherever Morpheus stood, you stood beside him.

That time had long since passed.

The Dreaming demanded its king. Your realm demanded its queen. Endless petitions, forgotten prayers, disputes that required your judgment, dreams that needed shaping, nightmares that refused to be tamed—your responsibilities never truly ended. Somewhere between fulfilling them, the two of you had quietly begun to disappear from each other's days.

It wasn't sudden.

Distance never is.

It arrived in stolen mornings, unanswered questions, hurried farewells, and dinners left untouched because one of you had been called away once again. The conversations became shorter. The silences became familiar. Eventually, neither of you noticed how rarely your hands reached for one another.

Love had never left.

Time simply had.

These days, the only proof that you still shared a marriage was the room waiting for you every night. More often than not, you would return long after midnight to find Morpheus already sitting against the headboard with an ancient book resting in his hands. He would look up for only a moment before offering you the faintest smile, and you would answer with one of your own before exhaustion claimed you both.

Tomorrow, you always promised yourselves.

Tomorrow would be different.

Tomorrow never came.

Now, silence settled over the royal study like a familiar guest.

Two desks stood opposite each other beneath the dim candlelight. Scrolls, books, and unfinished reports covered every inch of polished wood. The steady scratch of quills echoed through the chamber, interrupted only by the quiet turning of parchment.

You lifted your gaze for the first time in what felt like hours.

Morpheus remained focused on the document before him.

Only a few steps separated the two of you.

Yet somehow...

he had never felt farther away.

The chamber was wrapped in silence, disturbed only by the soft scratching of quills and the slow turning of parchment.

You didn't speak.

Not because there was nothing left to say.

But because you had already said it all.

Again.

And again.

Duty had always answered louder than either of you ever could.

Duty had always answered louder than either of you ever could.

You lowered your gaze once more, forcing yourself to focus on the report spread before you. Ink blurred beneath your eyes as your thoughts drifted elsewhere. You had read the same sentence three times, yet not a single word had stayed with you.

Across the room, another page turned.

You didn't have to look to know it was him.

You had spent centuries memorizing the smallest things about your husband—the quiet rhythm of his breathing when he was concentrating, the deliberate way he turned each page, the almost imperceptible furrow between his brows whenever a matter weighed heavily on his mind.

Some habits never faded.

Even if everything else seemed to.

Your fingers paused around the quill.

For a fleeting moment, you considered speaking.

Asking whether he had eaten.

Whether he had rested.

Whether he intended to spend yet another night buried beneath endless reports instead of beside his wife.

The words never left your lips.

Because you already knew the answer.

Just as he probably knew the questions.

Another document appeared before Morpheus with a whisper of magic. He reached for it without hesitation, as though expecting it all along.

You watched from the corner of your eye.

There was no frustration left.

No anger.

Only a quiet ache that had settled somewhere deep within your chest—a feeling so familiar it had almost become a part of you.

The silence stretched on.

Heavy.

Comfortable.

Painful.

It was strange how silence could become the language of a marriage.

A few feet apart.

An eternity away.

You sighed almost inaudibly and returned to your work.

Outside the towering windows, the sky above the Dreaming remained unchanged—an endless tapestry of stars that never dimmed, untouched by the passing of time. Within the study, however, time seemed to move all too quickly.

One report became five.

Five became twenty.

The candles burned lower, their flames shrinking as wax pooled at their bases.

Still, neither of you spoke.

You reached for another scroll, only to realize your hand had stopped halfway. Your eyes lingered on the neat stacks of documents scattered across Morpheus's desk.

Too many.

Far too many.

He hadn't moved from his chair in hours.

The book beside him had long since been replaced by treaties, petitions, and records from every corner of the Dreaming. His expression never changed, though you noticed the faint tension in his jaw and the tiredness hidden behind those endless blue eyes.

He looked exhausted.

The realization settled heavily in your chest.

You remembered a time when you would have crossed the room without thinking. You would have taken the parchment from his hands, closed the book before he could protest, and insisted he rest. He would have sighed in quiet annoyance, only to give in moments later as you led him away.

Now...

You couldn't remember the last time either of you had reached across the distance first.

Your fingers curled around the edge of your parchment.

The silence no longer felt peaceful.

It felt fragile.

As though a single word could either mend everything...

or shatter whatever remained between you.

You looked up.

At that exact moment, Morpheus did the same.

Your eyes met.

Neither of you looked away.

For one brief heartbeat, the study, the reports, the endless responsibilities—they all faded into the background.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something.

A knock echoed through the chamber.

The moment vanished.

Lucienne's calm voice sounded from beyond the doors.

"My King... My Queen. Forgive the interruption, but there is a matter requiring your immediate attention."

Morpheus lowered his gaze first.

"...Come in."

And just like that, duty had found the two of you once again.

The doors opened without another word.

Lucienne stepped inside, a bundle of neatly bound scrolls cradled in her arms. She paused just long enough to offer a respectful bow before crossing the room.

"My King. My Queen."

"There has been a disturbance in the western reaches of the Dreaming," she began, placing several reports upon Morpheus's desk. "A recurring nightmare has started spreading beyond its assigned borders. Several dreams have already been affected."

Morpheus glanced over the first report, his expression remaining unreadable.

"I will see to it."

Lucienne inclined her head before turning toward you.

"And there is another matter concerning your temple."

Your heart sank.

She held out a sealed letter bearing the crest of your realm.

"The High Priest requests your presence as soon as possible. It appears the offerings have ceased in several sanctuaries. They fear unrest among the faithful."

You accepted the letter in silence, your thumb brushing over the untouched seal.

Of course.

Another responsibility.

Another place that needed you.

Another reason to leave.

For a brief moment, neither you nor Morpheus spoke. The room was filled only with the crackling of candlelight as Lucienne quietly waited.

"I will depart before dawn," you said at last.

Morpheus's hand paused above the report.

Only for a heartbeat.

"So soon?"

His voice was calm.

Controlled.

Yet after so many centuries beside him, you caught the faint hesitation hidden beneath it.

"It cannot wait."

"…I understand."

Those three words were enough to end the conversation before it had truly begun.

Lucienne sensed it too.

She gathered the remaining scrolls, bowed once more, and excused herself, allowing the heavy doors to close behind her.

Silence returned.

You broke the seal on the letter, though your eyes never truly focused on the words written inside.

Across the room, Morpheus had already resumed reading his reports.

You wondered if he was actually reading them.

Or if he was pretending, just as you were.

Another journey.

Another night apart.

Another promise to return soon.

You had lost count of how many times those promises had been made.

And how many had been swallowed by duty before either of you had the chance to keep them.

The night had grown impossibly late.

Without a word, the two of you left the study together, your footsteps echoing through the endless halls of the palace.

You walked side by side.

Not once did your hands brush against each other.

Not once did either of you break the silence.

The distance between you felt far greater than the corridor itself.

When you reached your shared chambers, you disappeared behind the dressing screen while Morpheus removed his cloak and placed another book upon the bedside table.

By the time you returned, he was already leaning against the headboard, the ancient volume resting open in his hands.

You slipped beneath the covers, exhaustion settling over your body almost immediately.

For several minutes, neither of you moved.

Only the quiet turning of another page disturbed the stillness.

"…You'll leave before sunrise?" Morpheus asked without lifting his eyes from the book.

"Yes."

A pause.

"I may be gone for several days."

"I know."

Another silence.

You turned onto your side, facing away from him.

"I'll send letters."

"They are always appreciated."

Always appreciated.

Not I'll miss you.

Not Come back safely.

Only words that sounded as though they belonged in official correspondence rather than between husband and wife.

You closed your eyes.

"I wish things were different."

The words escaped before you could stop them.

For the first time that evening, the sound of turning pages ceased.

The room became perfectly still.

When Morpheus finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"So do I."

You waited.

Part of you hoped he would continue.

Explain himself.

Reach for your hand.

Ask you to stay one more day.

He did none of those things.

A moment later, the book opened once more.

Another page turned.

You smiled sadly to yourself.

Duty had won again.

Before dawn, the palace remained wrapped in silence.

You dressed without waking the attendants, fastening the silver clasps of your ceremonial robes yourself.

Everything was ready.

Everything except your heart.

You stepped into the corridor.

The doors to the royal study stood slightly ajar.

Inside, Morpheus was already seated behind his desk.

Another mountain of reports waited for him.

He had not gone back to sleep.

Perhaps…

Perhaps he had never slept at all.

You lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching him beneath the candlelight.

He looked tired.

More tired than he would ever admit.

"…I'm leaving."

Your voice carried softly through the chamber.

His hand paused above the parchment.

"I know."

You waited.

Just a heartbeat longer.

Hoping.

Expecting nothing.

Yet wishing for everything.

He did not rise.

He did not cross the room.

Instead, he reached for another report.

"Lucienne has arranged an escort."

"…Thank you."

The words sounded painfully formal.

Like those exchanged between allies.

Not lovers.

Not husband and wife.

You gave him one last look before turning toward the corridor.

One step.

Then another.

The heavy doors closed behind you with a quiet thud.

Only then did the scratching of his quill stop.

Morpheus remained motionless.

Several long moments passed before he slowly lifted his head toward the now-empty doorway.

His gaze lingered there.

The report before him remained unread.

For the first time since dawn, he allowed himself to admit the truth.

The palace felt quieter whenever you were gone.

And despite everything he had convinced himself to believe.

He hated that.

The palace felt different after you left.

Quieter.

The silence that had once allowed him to think now lingered like an unwelcome presence, settling into every corner of the royal study.

Morpheus stared at the report before him.

He had been reading the same paragraph for nearly ten minutes.

Not a single word had found its place in his mind.

With a quiet sigh, he set the parchment aside.

His gaze drifted across the room.

Your desk remained exactly as you had left it.

A half-finished report.

An uncapped bottle of ink.

The quill resting where your fingers had abandoned it only hours earlier.

No attendants had touched a thing.

Neither had he.

For reasons he refused to acknowledge.

He rose from his chair.

Slowly, he crossed the distance between the two desks.

The room suddenly felt much larger than it had that morning.

His gloved fingertips brushed against the edge of your chair.

Empty.

Cold.

He closed his eyes.

Only then did he realize how accustomed he had become to your quiet presence.

The soft scratch of your quill.

The gentle rustle of parchment whenever you turned another page.

The way you would occasionally pause, lifting your head to watch him for only a second before returning to your work.

He had noticed every single one of those moments.

He simply had never said so.

A faint knock interrupted his thoughts.

"My Lord?"

Lucienne stepped inside.

She stopped when she found him standing beside your desk.

"You have another council meeting within the hour."

"...Postpone it."

Lucienne blinked.

"My Lord?"

"I said postpone it."

Without another word, she inclined her head and quietly left the chamber.

Morpheus remained where he was.

His eyes fell upon the small cup you always used for your tea.

It was still there.

Waiting.

Just as it always had.

He reached for it instinctively before stopping himself halfway.

His hand slowly fell back to his side.

"...Come back soon."

The words escaped so quietly that even the Dreaming itself barely seemed to hear them.

There was no one left in the room to answer.

Only silence.

And for the first time in centuries...

The King of Dreams found himself wishing that duty had chosen someone else for just one day.

The days passed with agonizing slowness.

Morpheus buried himself in his work as he always had.

Petitions.

Dreams.

Nightmares.

Disputes between creations of the Dreaming.

One responsibility gave way to another, leaving barely a moment to breathe.

Normally, that would have been enough.

Normally, work silenced every unnecessary thought.

Not this time.

His eyes wandered far more often than he cared to admit.

Always toward the desk opposite his own.

Always toward the chair that remained empty.

He had never realized how much life your presence brought into the study.

Not because you spoke.

You rarely did.

But because you were there.

Reading.

Writing.

Occasionally glancing up from your work only to find him already looking away.

The room had never truly been silent while you occupied it.

Now…

It was.

Matthew landed on the edge of Morpheus's desk with a soft flutter of black wings.

"You've been staring over there for a while."

Morpheus did not answer.

Matthew followed his gaze toward your empty chair.

"…You miss her."

"I do not."

The raven tilted his head.

"You've read the same page four times."

"I am considering it."

"You forgot to sign three decrees."

Silence.

" Boss…You also called Lucienne by your wife's name yesterday."

Morpheus's jaw tightened.

Matthew immediately regretted saying it aloud.

"…Right."

"Probably shouldn't have mentioned that."

Another long silence settled between them.

Finally, Morpheus spoke.

"The palace is…"

He stopped.

Matthew waited.

"…Different."

The raven gave the smallest smile a raven could manage.

"I think the word you're looking for is lonely."

Morpheus said nothing.

Because denying it would have been dishonest.

That evening, instead of returning directly to his chambers, his feet carried him elsewhere.

He stood outside your room.

The door remained exactly as you had left it.

He hesitated.

Then, with a quiet wave of his hand, the door opened.

Everything was untouched.

Your favorite books rested upon the shelves.

A shawl lay draped across the arm of a chair.

Fresh flowers—placed there by the attendants days ago—had already begun to wilt.

The room still carried the faint scent of your perfume.

He stepped inside.

Slowly.

Almost cautiously.

As though entering a place that no longer belonged to him.

His fingers brushed over the spine of one of your books.

A small smile threatened to appear as he remembered the afternoon you had insisted he read it with you.

He had refused.

Claiming he had work to finish.

You had laughed.

"You always have work to finish."

He had answered…

"I shall read it tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

The word echoed bitterly in his mind.

He had said tomorrow so many times that eventually there had been no tomorrows left to give.

Morpheus lowered himself into the chair beside the window.

For the first time in centuries…

The King of Dreams simply sat in silence.

Not because there was work to be done.

But because the woman he loved was no longer there to fill the silence beside him.

Only then did he understand.

He had never grown accustomed to your absence.

He had merely convinced himself that he could.

Morning followed morning, each one arriving exactly as the last.

The Dreaming continued to breathe.

Dreams were woven.

Nightmares were restrained.

Petitions arrived in endless stacks upon his desk.

Nothing had changed.

Except everything had.

Morpheus settled into his chair before dawn, as he always did. Scrolls accumulated one after another, disappearing beneath his gloved hands almost as quickly as they arrived. He signed decrees without hesitation, reviewed reports with practiced precision, and issued silent commands that rippled across the Dreaming.

Yet, without realizing it, his gaze wandered.

Always to the desk opposite his own.

Empty.

He looked away.

Moments later, his eyes returned to it again.

The chair remained untouched.

The ink bottle had long since dried.

The feather quill rested exactly where you had left it.

No one dared disturb your side of the study.

Neither did he.

Days became a week.

The attendants quietly replaced the candles beside your desk.

They dusted the shelves.

Changed the flowers.

Folded the blanket that had been draped over the back of your chair.

Everything else remained untouched.

Morpheus noticed every change.

Every missing flower.

Every newly lit candle.

Every object that had shifted even the slightest distance from where you had left it.

One afternoon, he rose from his desk without thinking.

His steps carried him across the room.

His fingers reached for a report lying upon your desk.

Instead, they stopped beside the quill.

He stared at it.

For a long while.

Then carefully placed it back into the exact position it had rested before.

Almost instinctively.

As though preserving the illusion that you might return at any moment.

The palace corridors had never seemed so long.

His footsteps echoed through halls that once carried two sets instead of one.

Without meaning to, he slowed whenever he approached places the two of you had often passed together.

The western balcony.

The library.

The greenhouse hidden beneath endless starlight.

He never stepped inside.

He merely paused.

Looked.

Then continued walking.

Night offered no relief.

The bedchamber remained as immaculate as ever.

One side untouched.

The pillows perfectly arranged.

The blankets smooth where no one had slept.

At least, he tried to.

His eyes lingered on the same sentence until the candle beside him had nearly burned itself away.

Eventually, the book closed.

He looked toward your empty side of the bed.

His hand rested upon the mattress.

The sheets were cold.

Every night.

Work no longer ended inside the study.

He carried reports into the library.

To the throne room.

Onto the palace balconies.

Even into the gardens.

Anywhere except the study.

Because the moment he returned…

The empty desk greeted him before anything else.

Matthew often watched from the highest bookshelves.

The raven noticed things others did not.

How Morpheus unconsciously prepared two cups of tea before realizing only one would be used.

How his eyes lifted whenever footsteps echoed beyond the study doors.

How, for the briefest instant, expectation softened his features…

Only to disappear when another attendant entered instead.

How every evening, just before leaving the study, he looked toward your chair one last time.

Every.

Single.

Evening.

The Dreaming itself seemed to notice.

Dreams wandered more quietly through the palace.

The ravens perched silently upon the marble arches.

Even the wind carried fewer whispers through the endless halls.

The kingdom reflected its king.

And its king had become quieter than ever before.

One rainy evening, Morpheus found himself standing before the enormous window overlooking the Dreaming.

Rain never truly fell there.

Not unless he wished it to.

Still…

Dark clouds drifted across the endless sky.

His reflection stared back at him.

Motionless.

Alone.

Behind him, the study remained empty.

Before him stretched an infinite kingdom.

He ruled every dream ever dreamed.

Countless souls.

Countless worlds.

Yet none of it filled the quiet space left behind by a single person.

…

Days blurred into one another.

He no longer kept track of how many had passed.

The reports did.

Each pile growing higher before disappearing beneath endless hours of work.

Sometimes, without noticing, his hand reached toward the opposite side of the desk with a document already prepared.

Waiting.

Only to stop halfway.

There was no one there to receive it.

His hand slowly lowered once more.

Late one evening, exhaustion finally settled upon him.

Not the exhaustion that sleep could mend.

A different kind.

He leaned back within his chair, allowing his gaze to drift across the study one final time before leaving.

The candles flickered softly.

Books rested neatly upon their shelves.

The silence remained unchanged.

His eyes found your desk again.

This time...

He did not look away.

He simply watched it.

For minutes.

Perhaps longer.

As though expecting the chair to scrape softly across the floor.

As though expecting the familiar rustle of parchment.

As though expecting you to quietly take your seat, offer him the faintest smile, and return to your work without a word.

Nothing happened.

The room remained still.

Only then did he lower his head.

His eyes closed for the briefest moment.

And for the first time since your departure...

The King of Dreams allowed himself to feel the full weight of your absence.

Another report found its place among the countless others upon his desk.

Without looking, Morpheus reached for it, his attention fixed on the pages already spread before him.

His fingers paused.

There—

Written across the corner of the parchment in elegant familiar handwriting.

Your name.

For the first time in days, his expression shifted.

His hand moved almost instinctively, drawing the document closer.

The ink was unmistakable.

The graceful curves of each letter.

The careful strokes.

He knew that handwriting.

He had watched it fill endless pages across the desk opposite his own for centuries.

His thumb brushed lightly over the ink.

Nothing.

No lingering trace of magic.

No scent of your perfume.

Only parchment.

For a fleeting heartbeat, he allowed himself to believe.

Perhaps you had returned.

Perhaps Lucienne had forgotten to mention it.

Perhaps—

He lifted the report.

Your name vanished.

Another blink.

The elegant handwriting dissolved before his eyes, replaced by the title of an ordinary petition.

Morpheus remained perfectly still.

His fingers tightened ever so slightly around the parchment.

The room was silent.

He lowered the report.

Your name did not return.

It had never been there.

Only his weary mind, longing for a presence it had grown too accustomed to losing.

Slowly, he set the parchment aside.

For the first time in centuries...

The King of Dreams questioned his own perception.

Not because dreams deceived him.

But because grief had begun to.

He closed his eyes.

When they opened again, his gaze drifted—almost against his will—to the empty desk across the room.

It remained exactly as it always had.

Waiting.

Just as he was.

The familiar sound of footsteps echoed through the palace corridors.

Soft.

Unhurried.

For a fleeting moment, Morpheus paid them no mind. The Dreaming welcomed visitors every day.

Another page turned beneath his hand.

Then…

Silence.

A silence that felt different.

His quill came to a halt.

He looked up.

You stood in the doorway.

Travel-worn robes still clung to your shoulders, dust from distant temples tracing their hems. Your hair had loosened during the journey, and exhaustion lingered in your eyes.

Yet you smiled.

A small smile.

One he had not seen in far too long.

Neither of you spoke.

The distance between the doorway and his desk suddenly felt unbearable.

Slowly, Morpheus rose from his chair.

His gaze never left yours.

One step.

Then another.

You watched him in quiet surprise.

He rarely abandoned his work.

Never before had he crossed the room first.

He stopped only when he stood before you.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

His hand rose carefully, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face.

His fingertips lingered against your cheek.

As though reassuring himself that you were truly there.

That this was no illusion.

No cruel trick born from longing.

You breathed his name in little more than a whisper.

Before another word could leave your lips, he closed the remaining distance.

His hands found your waist with unexpected certainty, drawing you gently against him.

Then he kissed you.

Not hurriedly.

Not desperately.

Slowly.

Tenderly.

Like a man who had spent every passing day wishing for the moment he could finally do so again.

When the kiss ended, your forehead rested against his.

For several quiet moments, neither of you spoke.

You searched his face, still trying to understand what had just happened.

A faint, almost disbelieving smile tugged at your lips.

"You never would've done that before."

Your voice was soft, carrying neither accusation nor anger.

Only wonder.

"You would've stayed behind your desk."

His eyes lowered for the briefest moment before returning to yours.

The silence between you no longer felt empty.

It felt honest.

His thumb traced a slow circle against the back of your hand, as though making up for every touch he had withheld.

The reports still waited.

The Dreaming still needed its king.

Your temple would soon call for its queen again.

Neither of you had forgotten your duties.

But for the first time in what felt like an eternity…

Neither of you reached for them.

Instead, Morpheus leaned forward once more, resting his forehead against yours, unwilling to let even an inch of distance return between you.

A faint breath escaped him.

His thumb lingered against your cheek, as if afraid that the moment he let go, you would disappear again.

"I know."

The words were quiet.

Almost regretful.

"I should have."

His gaze softened, something rare flickering behind those endless blue eyes.

"I mistook duty for devotion."

A brief silence settled between you.

"I believed that providing for our realms was enough..."

His fingers gently intertwined with yours.

"...and I failed to see that I was neglecting the one person I wished to protect the most."

His eyes never left yours.

"I have spent every day since your departure wishing I had crossed that room."

His voice fell to little more than a whisper.

"So..."

His forehead rested lightly against yours once again.

"I crossed it now."

For a moment, you simply stared at him.

Your brows lifted in disbelief before a small laugh escaped your lips.

"...Who are you?"

He blinked once.

"You've never greeted me like this."

Another laugh slipped free, warmer this time.

You gently cupped his face, tilting it from one side to the other as though inspecting him.

"...Did something fall on your head while I was gone?"

The corners of your lips curved into an amused smile.

"Or did Matthew finally convince the King of Dreams to behave like a husband?"

For the briefest moment, Morpheus remained perfectly still.

Then, something almost imperceptible softened in his expression.

The faintest ghost of a smile touched his lips.

His hand settled over yours where it rested against his cheek.

"No."

A pause.

"I simply grew tired of pretending that your absence did not affect me."

His gaze searched yours with quiet certainty.

"It did."

"It always did."

A smile found your lips before you could stop it.

"You truly missed me."

It wasn't a question.

It was quiet certainty.

Morpheus did not answer.

He had never been a man who spoke his heart with ease.

Instead, his hand slipped gently into yours.

His fingers intertwined with yours as though they had been searching for them all along.

He lifted your hand slowly, pressing a lingering kiss against your knuckles.

His eyes never left yours.

The gesture was so gentle…

So unlike the distance that had stood between you for weeks…

…that it stole the breath from your lungs.

"You are trying very hard to make me believe this is real."

His thumb brushed absentmindedly over the back of your hand.

"It is."

You laughed softly.

"I leave for a few weeks and suddenly my husband remembers he has a wife."

For the first time in what felt like centuries, a faint chuckle escaped him.

Barely audible.

Yet unmistakably real.

The sound made you stare at him in astonishment.

"There it is."

You stepped closer.

"I was beginning to think I'd imagined that laugh."

"There is much you have forgotten."

"Oh?"

You raised an eyebrow.

"Then remind me."

Without another word, he closed the small distance between you.

His forehead rested against yours once more.

His nose brushed lightly against your own.

His hand rose to your cheek, cradling it with a tenderness that seemed almost hesitant—as though he feared moving too quickly would shatter the moment. He kissed you.

"I remembered," he murmured quietly, "that eternity means very little…"

His thumb traced your cheekbone.

"…if I spend it without you beside me."

Your playful smile slowly faded into something softer.

Your eyes glistened.

"You've become terribly poetic."

"I have become honest."

The confession settled gently between you.

No grand declaration.

No elaborate speech.

Only the truth.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

You simply listened.

The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His arms tightened around you—not enough to hurt, only enough to make it unmistakably clear that he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.

The room around you disappeared.

The reports waiting upon the desk.

The endless petitions.

The responsibilities that never ceased.

None of them mattered.

Not for this moment.

Morpheus lowered another kiss to your forehead.

Then to your temple.

Finally, he rested his cheek lightly against your hair and closed his eyes.

He had ruled the Dreaming for longer than memory itself.

He had witnessed kingdoms rise and fall.

Stars born and extinguished.

Endless stories beginning and ending.

Yet nothing…

Nothing had ever felt as precious as holding you again after believing, if only for a little while, that duty had stolen you from him.

And this time—

He chose not to let the moment pass.

He simply held you.

As though making up for every embrace he had never given.

Every goodbye he had made too quickly.

Every "tomorrow" that had never come.

His embrace tightened ever so slightly.

Not enough to imprison you.

Only enough to remind you that you were finally home.

He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours with a quiet sincerity you had not seen in a very long time.

"I cannot promise that my duties will disappear."

His thumb gently brushed your cheek.

"Nor would I ask you to abandon yours."

A small silence settled between you.

This time…

It felt warm.

"But I can promise you this…"

His voice softened.

"No duty will ever make me forget you again."

He leaned down, pressing another gentle kiss to your forehead before meeting your gaze once more.

"I have spent far too long believing that loving you in silence was enough."

A faint smile touched his lips.

"I was wrong."

Your heart skipped.

Morpheus lifted your hand once more, holding it carefully between both of his.

As though it were something precious.

Something irreplaceable.

"From this day forward…"

His blue eyes never left yours.

"I shall make time for you, my Queen."

The words were spoken with quiet conviction.

Not as a promise made in the heat of emotion.

But as an oath.

"You deserve more than the moments left behind after my work is done."

His fingers intertwined with yours.

"You deserve my time."

Another small smile appeared on your lips.

"So…"

You tilted your head, teasing him gently.

"Does this mean the King of Dreams is finally scheduling time for his wife?"

The faint smile on his face deepened, almost imperceptibly.

"It means…"

He brushed a kiss against your forehead.

"…that my Queen shall no longer come second to my duties."

Then he looked at you with all the quiet devotion he had hidden for far too long.

"You are my greatest responsibility."

"…and my greatest joy."

He took your hand. You looked at him in surprise.

"Hey, where are we going?"

He pulled your arm without looking at you. You burst out laughing. You hadn't laughed that much in a long time.

"Morpheus, stop! You'll make me fall!"

Your laughter echoed through the endless corridors of the palace, bright enough to chase away the silence that had lingered there for weeks.

You gathered the fabric of your gown as you hurried forward, glancing over your shoulder.

Morpheus followed only a few steps behind.

Not with his usual measured pace.

He was actually trying to catch you.

The sight alone was enough to make you laugh even harder.

"You are smiling!"

You pointed at him with mock astonishment.

"The King of Dreams is smiling."

A faint smile lingered on his lips.

"I fail to see why that is surprising."

"Because you never do."

"I have been informed otherwise."

You laughed again before turning another corner.

"I wonder who told you that."

"I believe it was my wife."

"Oh? She sounds very wise."

"She is."

You placed a hand dramatically over your heart.

"Flattery?"

"I am merely stating a fact."

You shook your head, unable to hide your grin.

"I leave for a few weeks and suddenly my husband becomes charming."

Before you could take another step, a gentle tug around your waist stopped you.

You usurped as strong arms pulled you backward.

A small laugh escaped your lips as you found yourself pressed against his chest.

"I caught you."

"You cheated."

"I adapted."

You turned to face him, your hands resting against his chest.

"I was going to let you win."

"I find it difficult to believe."

"It is true."

"It is not."

You laughed so hard you nearly doubled over.

"There he is."

"Who is there?"

"My husband."

Your smile softened.

"I've missed him."

Morpheus looked at you for a long moment.

Then, without a word, he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I missed you as well."

Your teasing expression melted into something infinitely softer.

You stepped closer until there was no space left between you.

"And what now, Your Majesty?"

His gloved hand found yours.

"Now…"

He brought your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a slow kiss against your knuckles.

"…I intend to make up for every moment I allowed duty to steal from us."

You smiled.

"That could take centuries."

A faint smile curved his lips.

"We have centuries."

He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours.

"And this time…"

His voice was little more than a whisper.

"I intend to spend them with you."

He suddenly pressed his lips against yours.

It was unexpected.

He dragged you to the bed you shared, or the one where he lay down for you.

Morpheus never slept. He was the king of dreams. He didn't need sleep.

He gently laid you down on the bed. You made love.

Everything was forgotten.

Kingdom

Duties

Responsibility

Morpheus gently buried his face in the curve of her neck. He was silent for a moment; then, his voice reached her ear in a whisper so low only you could hear it.

"I will make you scream until the dawn comes."

Morpheus exhaled a quiet laugh against your skin, his lips brushing your collarbone as he shifted slightly—his weight pressing you deeper into the mattress. His fingers carded gently through your hair, fingertips catching on stray strands with idle affection.

The room was silent save for the occasional rustle of sheets and Morpheus’ slow breathing. He tilted his head just enough to press a kiss below your ear—soft, lingering—before settling back down with a sigh of utter satisfaction.

He shifted slightly, his arm tightening around your waist as he nestled closer—his face now buried against the curve of your neck. A soft sigh escaped him, warm and sleepy, before he pressed a featherlight kiss just below your jaw.

The room was quiet except for the occasional creak of settling furniture. Moonlight spilled through the window in silver ribbons across tangled sheets—illuminating Morpheus’ dark lashes and relaxed expression as exhaustion finally began to pull him under.

Morpheus stirred in the silent darkness, his fingers tracing absentmindedly across your arm as he watched you; his expression tender, almost curious. The moonlight painted him in soft shades of blue and gray, highlighting the curve of a smile on his face when he realized you were awake.

Without a word, he leaned down and kissed you gently; a deep but tender kiss that lingered long, like a promise. When he pulled back a few inches to catch his breath, his thumb touched your cheekbone with feather-light care.

You murmured contentedly, smiling.

Morpheus exhaled slowly, his lips parting as he gathered his thoughts. His voice was quiet but steady when he finally spoke.

"I love you."

The words were simple, honest - no grand speech or dramatic flourish needed. Just three syllables that carried the weight of everything unsaid between them.

He didn't look away after saying it, holding your gaze with an intensity that made his sincerity undeniable. There was no hesitation in him now - just raw vulnerability laid bare

Morpheus sat up slightly, the sheets pooling around his waist as he turned fully towards you. His expression was solemn yet unbearably soft - like a man making an oath he intended to keep until his dying breath.

"Listen to me," he began, voice low but carrying every ounce of conviction,* "I swear on my name, on every star in the sky and drop of water in this world - I will never hurt you. Not intentionally. Not carelessly."

He reached out slowly, giving you time to pull away if needed before cupping your face with both hands.

"I love you my king."

"I love you my queen."

‘’I would never deliberately abandon my subjects. You should know this Lucienne.’’ his voice was stern when he said this. Lucienne blinked a few times.

‘’Deliberately my Lord? Are you saying you were held against your will?’’

‘’Yes. A mortal man thought that capturing an Endless would help him get his son back. That is not how we work.’’ Morpheus took steps towards his castle and Lucienne soon followed.

‘’Is his son here?’’ Lucienne asked out of pure curiosity. His long steps took him forward fast, leaving her to quicken hers to keep up. ‘’my Lord?’’

‘’No. He was never meant to capture me. He wanted Death.’’ Lucienne nodded, more to herself than to his grace.

‘’But what is important that you are here again, my Lord.’’ They reached to the gates of the castle and Dream stopped in his tracks. He watched few pieces fall to the ground and the roof to cave in.

‘’What heppened?’’ he asked astonished. Lucienne cleared her throat,

‘’My Lord. You are the Dreaming. The Dreaming is you. When you feel unwell, the Dreaming senses it immediately and reprociates it.’’ she calmly told him. When Morpheus didn’t say anything for a while she continued, ‘’so after being gone for a hundred years and in captivity no less, I’m surprised it’s in this good condition.’’ Morpheus turned to look at Lucienne now but didn’t say anything. He looked devastated as he took a step towards the ruins.

‘’I cannot rebuild the realm right now. I need more time and my trinkets. He took them.’’

‘’Of course my Lord. We have time and you should get your strength back before going after them.’’ Lucienne informed him as he walked through the front doors. She stood back, leaving him be as she retreated to the library.

Morpheus wondered around the fallen walls, sadness in his eyes. His thoughts turned to you, regretting that he didn’t have more time with you. He had just found you. A mortal yes, but when did he ever actually listen to the rules.

He had loved you, even tho it was for a short time. More than anything he regretted that he couldn’t inform you that he didn’t leave you because he wanted to. No, because someone else took that chance away from him.

He found himself in the throne room. He sat down on his now cracked throne. Tears dwelling in his eyes. He rarely showed any emotion. But for you he would shed a tear or two, for he missed you dearly.

He would do anything in his power to be able to say he loves you just one last time. But now his power has been weakened by the man who captured him and he couldn’t do anything but to try and remember every detail about you.

Y/N’s POV

It was late at night and you were getting ready for bed when the trinket around your neck glowed lightly. You gasped as your breath caught in your throat. You held the dimly lit jewel in you fingers and quietly whispered his name.

‘’Morpheus.’’ and suddenly the world shifted and the starry sky took you in its embrace.

When you opened your eyes, you were standing in front of a pile of bricks. You furrowed your brows and looked around, concern written all over your face. There was a gentle breeze twirling around you.

The Dreaming still welcomed you even at this stage. You rose the few steps that were still intact, hopping from boulder to boulder ‘till you got to the doors. The dilapitated state of the castle made you worry about Morpheus.

Even if he’s back, you had no idea in what condition. You let the jewel around your neck to guide you as it glowed brighter when you adventured deeper in what once was a glorious castle.

You reached his throne room and saw him sitting in the place he belongs. Tears begun to dwell in your eyes.

‘’Morpheus?’’ you sobbed softly. You saw him stiffen and turn his eyes to you. You noticed his eyes were a little puffy. Had he been crying? ‘’is it really you? Are you really here?’’ you smiled through the tears prickling at your eyes.

You walked to him at the throne. His eyes widened at your presence, confusion and disbelief written all over his tired face. Softly you touched his face, confirming he was actually here with you.

‘’Y/N..’’ his cold fingers found your cheeks as he held you in his hands. He stood up in front of you. You couldn’t wait any longer but placed your hand on his neck, pulling him down to meet your longing lips. The kiss was emotional and desperate.

Tears stained both of your faces as his hands wrapped around your body to embrace you against his. You left little kisses all over his lips and jaw, marking him with your love. His lips captured yours in a long and deep kiss that took your breath away before he pulled back a little.

‘’My love,’’ he held you close while looking into your eyes. ‘’how are you here? It has been many decades. Am I seeing things? Have I finally lost my mind for good?’’ his lips curved into a tiny smile as he continued to watch your sobbing face.

‘’I’m really here Morpheus.’’ you caressed his sides, keeping him close. ‘’I’ve missed you so much.’’ you broke into a sob again, happy emotions taking over. His hands traced every inch of you, feeling like if he stopped, you’d disappear.

‘’My love, but how? It should not be possible.’’ he pondered as he caressed your hair.

‘’Well, I had a little talk with Death.’’ his eyes widened a little, like he was really listening now. ‘’I explained to her that we didn’t have much time together before you vanished. And I really wanted to believe we could still have something.’’

‘’And she just agreed?’’ he asked in disbelief. You pulled back a little so you could see all of him.

‘’She said I’d be the first one to actually choose you over everything and asked if I was absotulety sure.’’ you tiptoed to kiss his lips and lingered there for a while. ‘’and I’ve never been more sure about anyone but you.’’ you softly spoke as you parted from him.

‘’You gave up your mortal life just to wait for me, although you had no idea if I would return?’’ his hands squeezed yours lovingly, appreciating the fact that you’d chosen him. You placed your hand on top of his heart, feeling it thumping lightly,

‘’I just couldn't bear the thought of leaving the waking world and not knowing what could’ve become of us. I had to try, no matter how long it took.’’ you smiled at him, cupping his face with your other hand.

He leaned into your touch, sighing like he could finally breath properly now that you’re here. ‘’and I’m glad I did, but you were gone so suddenly.’’

‘’I know my love and I apologize for it. It was not my intention to be captured and leave you behind without answers.’’ he took you into his arms, hugging you tightly against him.

‘’Oh Morpheus, I’m just glad you came back to me.’’ you soflty spoke against his chest, squeezing him gently. He leaned back, lifting your chin and kissing your lips with love.

‘’All that time I was only thinking about you, my love. The thought of you got me through the worst of it.’’ he confessed as he pulled back to lean his forehead against yours. "even when I thought I would never see you again. You were my hope."

‘’I love you, my Dream.’’ you whispered.

‘’I never stopped loving you.’’  He lifted you in his arms and started to walk towards the exit. He stopped at the door to his personal chambers, putting you down as he glanced around the state of the room.

You saw the sadness and the anger in his eyes. You laced your fingers with his, swiping your thumb against his knuckles, trying to reassure him.

‘’Dream?’’ you said softly.

‘’I am sorry that you have to see my realm in such condition. I have failed.’’ he tried to take his hand away from yours but you wouldn’t let him. His gaze fell on your face after that gesture, puzzled.

‘’Do not beat yourself over something you had no control over. You couldn’t have known this would happen let alone that you’d be gone for so long.’’ His expression stayed unreadable. ‘’we have time to fix things and I will be here for you. Please be happy that you’re here in one piece.’’ your eyes teared up a bit, but you swiped the tears away quickly.

‘’My love, I am more than happy that I am back in your arms.’’ he raised his other hand to your face, wiping some tears that escaped still. ‘’and that you are here with me. I did not mean to make you sad.’’

‘’You haven’t, I’m just glad you’re alive. So anything else can wait.’’ You pulled him into a passionate kiss. Lips crashing and molding into each other. ‘’I just need you right now Morpheus.’’ you mumbled against his lips. He groaned sotfly, pushing you back before fixing the bed so you could lay on it. You immediately pulled him on top of you. He collapsed, losing his balance but you caught him.

‘’I am sorry, I do not have all of my powers so I cannot do even the smallest of tasks.’’ the bitterness coated his words.

‘’You don’t need to apologize to me. The bed is fine now and you need your strength for something else,’’ you traced your lips against his jaw as you pushed his coat off of his shoulders. He kneeled to take it off, you waited and took all of him in. He looked tired but god he was still so ethreal. He leaned down again, placing his body flushed against yours so you could feel all of him.

‘’You are absolutely right my love.’’ his lips found that sweet spot on your neck, nibbling it. You gasped at the feeling. God you have missed this feeling. ‘’I have longed for you for a century. I am going to savour you for a long time.’’

‘’Oh yes me too Morpheus, it’s been too long. Please don’t stop.’’ you moaned his name, trailing your hands under his shirt to feel his abs. He lifted his head from your neck, searching the truth in your eyes.

‘’You haven’t -,’’ he didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. You lifted your hand to his cheek, caressing lovingly.

‘’No, I only want you, even if that meant no sex for the rest of my time then I was okay with that.’’ you confessed. He let his lips curve up to a small smile and lowered to your lips.

The kiss was slow but meaningful, his tongue seeking access to your mouth. You granted it easily, missing the way he made you his with just his tongue.

He placed his hand to your knee, lifting your leg up to his waist before trailing his fingers down your thigh. His tongue battled with yours for a while, before breaking away to kiss your jaw.

He grinded his hips to yours, enticing delicious sounds from you.

‘’Morpheus, please, I need you,’’ you whined as your hands traveled to his jeans, opening the button. He pulled away to take his jeans off, throwing them somewhere. ‘’shirt too please.’’ you bit your lip as you saw his length standing tall.

He complied, placing the shirt next to the bed.

His hand lifted your nightgown after he was naked, trailing it upwards your body. His hands cupped your boobs, softly squeezing the flesh. You got the hint and took it off of you. You were both naked and hungry for each other.

You pulled him down taking his member into your hands and stroking slowly. A small groan left his lips as he let you caress him. You moaned as you placed his tip at your entrance, tracing your slit, teasing.

You lifted your hips to meet his member better as he let you have control for a moment. The weight of his length felt amazing in your hands after such a long time. His groans were subtle, but you could hear them. You brought your other hand to his abdomen, tracing along the happy trail to the tip of his cock.

His hands found your thighs, sotfly scratching the skin. Drawing circles, squeezing in places. It felt so good. You opened your legs more for him, placing him more firmly at your entrance. He sunk into you like he never left.

Your body welcomed him back with ease. He put his hands either side of you, balancing his body as he moved his hips slowly. He kept his slow pace for a few thrusts, feeling how you clenched around him trying to have more.

As you moaned his name he snapped his hips against you hard. He pulled back and thrusted with more force again. You traced your hand to his hip, squeezing as he fucked you harder.

‘’Oh my god!’’ you breathed loudly as his hips snapped even faster against you. He groaned above you as your pussy swallowed his length whole. His pace was endless, as he kept making you moan for him over and over again.

"You feel so good, you take me so well, love." he groaned. He switched the position of his hands, placing them closer to your hips but still on the bed for balance. His muscles flexed above you as his thrust became relentless.

‘’Oh yes please, you’re gonna make me cum.’’

He let out a more audible groan,

‘’Cum for me my love.’’ his pace didn’t falter, he was chasing your high now. The slapping of skin on skin was echoing through the ruined quarters.

‘’Oh my god yees, yes please, yes yes,’’ you screamed as you hit your high. His hips only now slowed down a bit and you felt him release his spill into you. He kept moaning above you as you moved your hips to make him feel more good.

He fell down, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, breathing loudly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him close to you, not ready for this to be over. He kept his thrusts shallow as his lips explored your collarbone, leaving wet kisses all over it.

Your breath was heavy in the air as well. He lifted his head to kiss your lips quickly, but lingered a little while. You both gasped as you let go of each other, being out of breath.

He straightened himself but didn’t pull out all the way. He teased you a bit, slowly thursting back in and then pulling a bit out. You moaned again, feeling all of him inside you. His length long and thick.

‘’You felt even better than I remembered, my love. I do not want to stop.’’ his voice hoarse and dark. He bend over to place his lips on your perky boobs, waiting for his attention.

His tongue circled around the nipple, before sucking it in his warm mouth. He gave the same treatment to your other boob as you moaned below him. You lifted your hands to his hair, threading your fingers through it. You pulled a little on his hair to see his reaction, which was a growl.

‘’Please don’t stop. I’ve missed you too much to end this so soon.’’ you told him from the bottom of your heart. He agreed, kissing you sweetly before he pulled out and flipped you over onto your stomach.

‘’Then you need to prepare, because I am not stopping any time soon if I continue now.’’ he growled hotly in your ear, letting you feel his member against your ass. Hard already. Or perhaps it never got soft.

You nodded biting your lip, squealing as he pushed in again, deeper this time. He lifted your other leg higher so he could see your pussy as he thrusted in. His hand grabbed your ass, squeezing it with his thrusts. He bend down again, moaning in your ear how good you felt. His hips snapped faster and harder against your ass, making you scream his name,

‘’Morpheus! God yes, give me all of you.’’ His pace got harder while his hands grabbed your hips, pulling your body to him. He really didn’t stop for hours. Making you lose yourself in him multiple times more that night.

The slapping of skin made everything more heightened and after what felt like days his thrusts became deep and sloppy. He growled in your ear and you felt his cum fill you once again, making you reach your peak for one last time.

He pulled out reluctantly as he sensed you were quite sore and he didn’t want to deliberately hurt you, even if there was pleasure involved. Your eyes were closed and your breath ragged as you laid bare before him.

He gathered you in his arms, diving under the covers of the ruined bed. You snuggled closer to him.

‘’That was amazing.’’ You breathed into his neck, kissing his adam’s apple.

‘’Yes. That was,’’ he paused a bit, ‘’wonderfully exquisite.’’ he kissed your temple. ‘’and now that I am back, we are most definitely spending more time like this.’’ You chuckled but agreed, kissing him.

You settled down in a comfortable silence, enjoying each others embrace. After a small while you thought about your conversation before and had to ask him,

‘’Dream?’’

‘’Yes?’’ his voice deep.

‘’Am I really the only one who’s chosen you?’’ you tilted your head so you could see his face when he answers. He looked at you for a while in silence, face unreadable.

‘’Yes.’’ he said hurt in his eyes, seemingly not wanting to elaborate. You took his hand in yours lacing your fingers with his and lifting his hand to your lips. The kiss was soft and truthful as you spoke the following words,

‘’I would choose you all over again,’’ you brushed his cheek with your other hand, ‘’and wait another century if I’d have to.’’ His eyes got a little glossy but he didn’t shed tears.

Instead he bend down to capture your lips in a loving kiss. He lingered a long time, filling the kiss with the emotions he couldn’t put to words. And you felt them. As he pulled away he whispered,

‘’Thank you my love. There is nothing but love in my heart for you.’’ he wrapped his arm protectively around your frame, kissing your forehead. You settled against him again, sighing out of content,

‘’I love you Morpheus. Now and always.’’

In my dream, I would walk for hours, following a tall figure donned in hideous robes, who always seemed just out of reach. The gentle clanging of a chain echoed in the silent maze, and each time I heard it, the figure seemed to grow further away. I'd reach my hand out, a name just there, on the tip of my tongue, and then the path and the hedges were washed away in a sea of black, like ink staining the pages of a book, erasing the knowledge within its pages forever.

After that, I no longer dreamed of anything. The ink dried on the pages of my mind, forever casting a shadow over the words it so desperately tried to write.

A beach.

A gate.

A palace.

A meadow.

Years passed, and soon my curse of dreamless sleep became a normal part of my life. All recollection I clung to of the maze, and its paths faded too into the dark. Dreamlessness in the dreary world of waking minds was a nightmare all its own.

*

My father’s voice echoed between the floorboards, and the whole estate quaked with every vile word he spewed. Realistically, I knew things weren’t actually shaking, but to my childlike mind, it certainly felt that way. I’d taken refuge under my bed, looking up at the crudely painted hues of the night sky that were hidden beneath the bed frame, as though if I willed it enough, I'd be transported inside the soft blues and lilacs.

I’d pressed my hands tightly over the ears of the small doll, my only friend, fully believing that she too could hear as I did.

“Don’t worry, Priscilla,” I whispered to her, fighting against tears. “He’ll be done soon, and mother will come up and tuck us in just like she always does.”

Though the doll did not reply, the feel of her slightly knotted hair beneath my palms helped soothe the ache within my chest. Her silky dress matched the light hues, and the messy stars that I'd tried my hand at stitching into her gown made her look as though she'd fallen from the very sky I'd painted. Her face was also adorned with tiny stars and swirls of color, an attempt I'd made to cover up the cracks along the side of her face where her ear had been chipped off.

“You aren't like everyone else, dear Priscilla,” I'd said once I'd finished my makeover of her. The words rattled in my mind, not entirely my own but not those of a stranger. “So, it won’t do to have you look like everyone else! You should look like you.”

My father had been furious with me when he'd finally noticed what I'd done. He'd shouted and screamed and hit me until I couldn't cry anymore. “Do you know how expensive this doll was?! It was certainly worth more than you!”

I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and pulled Priscilla up, hugging her to my chest as tightly as I could. “He'll be done soon. He'll be done, and mother will come. Mother always comes.”

It'd be another hour before those words were true, but eventually my mother knocked upon my door in that gentle way. “Are you still awake, dear?”

“Yes,” I whispered, still half hidden below the frill of the covers spilling over the side of the bed.

She opened the door, soft eyes finding my hiding spot instantly. Her face had begun to swell, red marks slowly changing colors. Yet, despite the pain I knew she felt, my mother smiled. “Come out from under there.”

“Is Father gone?”

“Yes,” she said, sadness and fear causing her mousy voice to crack. “He's gone to the pub. Won’t be back till morning.”

I crawled out and hurried into her arms. “Why was he angry? Did I… Did I upset him again?”

“No,” mother said, quickly wiping the tears from my eyes. “No, I… I made a mistake.”

“That's an accident,” I said, mind desperately trying to wrap around the much larger, elusive concept of what caused my father’s ire. “We don't get punished for accidents because they aren't anybody’s fault.”

Mother smiled, kneeling to gently twist my hair into loose braids as she spoke, “That's right. Your father… He's just been under a lot of pressure lately, that's all.”

I simply nodded, forcing the hundreds of questions that rose to mind back down. “I’m sorry he was mean to you.”

“Come, dear,” mother whispered, gently turning me towards the bed. “It’s time to sleep.”

“I don’t like sleeping,” I mumbled, tired eyes lingering on the open pages of my book, or rather the black butterfly that sat upon its ivory pages. “It’s always too dark now.”

Mother sat beside me, tenderly tucking me and Priscilla into the folds of the blanket as that little butterfly slowly beat its wings. “Still no more dreams?”

“No. No more mazes.” With a thick swallow and a shuddering breath, tears sprang to my eyes as I turned to look at her. “Mother… Is the Sandman angry with me? Did I upset him like I upset Father?”

“Oh,” she cooed, scooting up to lean over me with a sad sort of smile. “No, dear. You haven’t upset anyone.”

“He’s forgotten me, then?”

“Maybe he’s just… borrowed those marvelous dreams of yours,” she suggested, tucking stray hairs away from my face.

My brows furrowed, nose scrunching up in confusion. “Why would he want my dreams?”

“Because they’re beautiful.”

“Well, he can get his own beautiful dreams.”

A real smile finally spread across my mother’s face along with a gentle laugh that brought ease to my soul, echoing around me, surrounding me in warmth. With a gentle touch to my nose, she said, “The Sandman never forgets a dreamer. You’ll find those dreams, just you wait.”

She kissed my head first, then did the same to Priscilla’s. “Goodnight, mother.”

“Goodnight, my dear Penelope.”

The moonlight cast my bedroom in a silver glow as I tossed and turned. I stared at that butterfly, quietly whispering to it, “Do you know The Sandman?”

It beat its wings again.

“Well, if you do… Would you tell him I’d like to have a word with him?”

The butterfly lifted to the air, flitting aimlessly about my room. Quiet as a mouse, I pulled myself from the covers and hurried to the window, gently opening it. The butterfly flew out into the night, vanishing into the dark. “Goodbye!”

As my eyes drifted shut, met once again by that all-consuming darkness, I desperately thought the dreams to myself.

A beach.

A gate.

A palace.

A meadow.

"The Sandman never forgets a dreamer.”