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loveissupernatural · 2 years

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**read chapter 1 here** - **read chapter 2 here** - **read chapter 3 here** - **read chapter 4 here**

Morpheus/Dream x fem!reader

In Your Dreams

Chapter 5

“Life is a sleep and love is its dream; and you have lived if you have loved.”

-Alfred de Musset

The following day felt longer than you would have liked. You were anxious for the sun to set, and with it, the answers that would quench the fire of burning curiosity in your mind. Why was the heart of The Dreaming rotting away? Why were you able to escape the borders of your dream and travel there, and why was Lucienne so obviously disturbed by it? Where was Dream? But, most importantly, why did you feel the need to be there in the first place? Why couldn’t you come to terms with this entire experience for the incredible magical adventure that it was and just let it go?

Even though you were filled with more questions than ever before, you could feel in the deepest recesses of your soul that the solutions to all of them lay in The Dreaming.

Your enthusiasm to return to the palace caused you to have trouble falling asleep for the first hour that night. The castle was your new Burgess house – mysteries hid there that tickled at your insides, that whispered to you in the darkness of the night to uncover them.

Finally, after tossing and turning, your eyes fluttered closed and stayed that way. Shifting shapes whirled behind your eyelids, flitting from corner to corner, until they gently settled into the outline of a horizon. A warm sun began to rise and filtered light onto the dark line, illuminating the scene for you. You instantly recognized the scent of poppies on the breeze.

That fragrant wind whipped through your hair lovingly, like the soft fingers of a curious child, swirling around your form. You spun with it, arms outstretched, grinning from ear to ear. How you wished with everything within your heart that this place was real, that this is where you could spend the waking hours of your life.

You opened your shining eyes to see the parting gate of horn and ivory before you. You hadn’t even needed to start the journey within the confines of your own dream this time – you were already here. Your path of glinting black and gold marble was still below your feet, humming with welcoming warmth.

You couldn’t contain your happiness when the dividing gates revealed a view to you that had shifted from the night before. The stretches of murky water were trickling into a singular crystal river, sparkling blue and immense. Where unforgiving rock and dark sand had suffocated the landscape, beautiful blades of grass and stretches of green ferns were beginning to emerge. You recognized your favorite flower, blooming white poppies, dancing in the breeze on the riverside. An enormous bridge was sliding into place over the river, cradled by gargantuan stone hands that surfaced from the crystal water.

Creatures were returning, beautiful and terrifying alike, flying through the milky blue sky and snaking through the growing grass around your feet. The air was no longer choked with an eerie silence; insects buzzed, water rushed, citizens of The Dreaming were laughing.

Life.

You followed the massive bridge of stone to the center, where the once-crumbling palace was being rebuilt in the gleam of glorious sunlight. Fallen walls and castle turrets were reassembling themselves brick by brick with meticulous accuracy, as if someone had hit rewind. Rusting spires were shedding their coat of orange muck and shining gold. Magnificent archways were mending their own cracks and rising tall, transforming from ashy grey to glimmering white.

The heart of The Dreaming was returning to its former glory. Pure joy blossomed in your chest like the rosebuds of a vine that was bending around the pillars of the bridge.

You walked into the castle entryway, still grinning like a fool, as you looked up and watched every shard of broken glass and every crushed stone float into the air and return to their homes. A beautiful stained-glass window was mending directly above your head. The colorful fragments gradually slid together to form the image of a Pegasus, and as the last piece fell into place, it sprang to life, neighing triumphantly and beating its wings.

“Not too shabby, huh?” came a proud voice from behind you.

You spun to see a tall scarecrow-like figure with the head of a pumpkin approaching you. His face was the cut of a jack-o-lantern, crooked mouth pulling up at the corner in a tilted smile. He stopped by your side and put his branch-like hands on his thin hips, gazing up appreciatively at the work of glass art. You tried not to stare too rudely at him.

You turned your head back toward the magnificent window, now casting rays of colored sunlight onto you and your Halloween-like companion.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” you replied truthfully.

He grunted in agreement, then looked down at you. His triangular eyes narrowed.

“Hey, ya know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around these parts before,” he said. “You new?”

Your lips upturned at his gutteral New York accent. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Lotsa new folks all around this joint today,” he said, shaking his large head in amusement. “Guess that’s what happens when ya hammer a few nails and splash on a fresh coat a’ paint—everyone comes back to tha neighborhood.”

“It does look pretty inviting,” you agreed, turning to face him. You stuck out your hand. “I’m Y/N.”

The pumpkin-headed man stuck out his wooden hand and shook yours firmly. “I’m Mervyn, but everybody calls me Merv.”

“Hi, Merv.”

He chuckled and crossed his arms. “Well, considerin’ you bein’ new and all, why don’t I give ya a bit of a tour? It wouldn’t be my first one today.”

“I would love that,” you beamed, resisting the urge to clasp your hands together like a schoolgirl. Merv nodded and turned, motioning with his stick-like hand.

“Well, then, c'mon.”

He walked like a puppet would without strings, you thought, as you followed behind him. You struggled to keep up with his long strides. Mervyn led you through a hallway that had one wall built while the opposite was still floating together. One piece of stone almost hit him in the head on its way back to its appointed position, and he cursed at it.

Once through the hallway, you turned into a winding staircase that glinted with intricate gold. As you followed Merv’s spindly legs up the flight, you appreciated the view to your left of an assembling tower. After a few more steps, you reached the top.

“First things first, here’s our pride and joy,” Mervyn announced grandiosely, spreading out his arms for dramatic emphasis. Your jaw dropped. “This is the library.”

The room was warm wood, cozy sunlight, and beckoning shelves that stretched on for as far as the eye could see. Books were everywhere, of every size, color, and age. You ran your finger along a nearby shelf, tickling their spines. Some looked thousands of years old, others as if they’d come off the press minutes before.

“How many books are in here?” you asked in wonder, turning in a full circle to better take in the view.

“A helluva lot,” Mervyn answered slyly. “To tell you the truth, I’m not the one you should ask. Lucienne’s the librarian in charge.”

At the sound of her name, the woman that you had met the night before emerged from behind a nearby cascade of bookshelves. Her eyes smiled at Mervyn, but then they settled onto you.

Lucienne’s face paled.

“You’ve returned,” she breathed, striding toward the two of you with a haste in her step, “and so soon.”

“Oh, you’ve met before?” Mervyn asked, eyes shifting between the librarian and yourself.

“We have,” you told him, trying to make sure your grin didn’t turn into a grimace.

“Just last night, in fact,” Lucienne added. Her perceptive gaze wandered over your nervous form.

“Last night?” Merv repeated incredulously. He motioned over his shoulder. “But the boss hadn’t even started rebuilding yet! How’d she—?”

“A question we all would like to know,” Lucienne answered, fixing you with a penetrating stare over the top of her round glasses. She clasped her hands behind her back expectantly.

“Hey, I’d like to know too,” you said defensively. You crossed your arms, but then dropped them to your sides, not wanting to come off as defiant. “I’ve already told you everything that I know.”

“Lucienne, who is this?” Mervyn asked curiously, pointing a thumb at you.

The librarian sighed heavily but her eyes softened. Her tone was gentle, appreciative. “This, Mervyn, is the young lady that released Lord Morpheus from his prison.”

“No kiddin’?! That was you?!” he questioned unabashedly, shock evident in his wide eye sockets.

You shrugged, not a fan of the intense attention. “Well, yeah… but it’s really not that big of a deal…”

“Not that big of a deal?” Mervyn repeated, voice dripping in astonishment. “Are you kiddin’ me? This place would still be fallin’ apart if it wasn’t for you!”

“That’s why everything looked the way that it did the last time I came?” you asked Lucienne. “Because Dream wasn’t here?”

She nodded somberly. “He was captured for nearly a century and was unable to return. Everything was dissipating, disappearing… it cannot exist without him. He is The Dreaming.”

“But it’s been over a week since I helped him escape,” you said, confused. “Where has he been all of that time?”

“Lord Morpheus was traveling the realms on a quest to reobtain his tools.”

Something hopeful fluttered in your chest. Those nights where you’d been calling out to him and he hadn’t shown himself… it wasn’t because he was ignoring you, it was because he wasn’t even there in the first place.

“Look, uh… I hate to interrupt this conversation,” Merv cut in, scratching the back of his pumpkin head uncomfortably, “but… shouldn’t we tell the boss that she’s here?”

Joy sparked in your chest at his words.

Lucienne hesitated. “There’s still so many questions that remain unanswered. We don’t know how or why she is able to leave her dreams, let alone create a path from their border and through the waters to the palace.”

Mervyn didn’t have eyebrows, but if he did, you were sure he would be raising them in surprise.

“I didn’t have to use the path this time,” you told her, biting your lip. “I just kind of started at the gate.”

“You materialized here, in the heart of The Dreaming?” she clarified, voice filled with bewilderment and cut with that undertone of concern again.

“That ain't normal,” Mervyn shook his head.

“It appears that each time you fall asleep, you are somehow able bypass steps that you’ve previously taken,” she said thoughtfully, almost to herself. “You’re no longer appearing within the boundaries of your own dreams.”

An excited smile pulled at your lips. “Cool.”

“No, no, not ‘cool’,” Lucienne admonished, turning from you and Mervyn to start rifling through a stack of books resting on a nearby table. “This behavior is quite abnormal, even for a lucid dreamer such as yourself.”

“Lucid dreamer, ‘ay?” Merv inquired, crossing his reedy arms over his chest and leaning back against the shelf behind him. “Not too many a’ you guys left no more.”

“Really?”

“They’ve become exceedingly rare,” Lucienne confirmed, finally picking out a book from the pile. “Consistently lucid dreamers existed more commonly thousands of years ago. Now, well…” her eyes roamed over your confused face “…you’re the first I’ve seen in, at least, a millennium.”

“You always been able to do that?” Mervyn asked you. “Change stuff around?”

“Since I can remember,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair at the ornate table in front of you and sitting. “I’d sleep the day away just to keep dreaming.”

“But roaming through the dreamscape, you said last night that you had only just started?” the librarian asked, peering over the edge of the thick book in her hands. She joined you at the table.

Something caught your eye. The book that Lucienne had plucked from the bunch was bound in black with two golden words emblazoned on the cover: your first and last name.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s that?” you questioned enthusiastically, scooting your chair closer to her. “My name’s on there!”

A proud smile creeped onto the head librarian’s face. “This library contains every story ever written and unwritten, finished or unfinished, everything that has been and will never be.” She tapped the hard cover of your book with a manicured nail. “And this is yours.”

“Wow,” you sighed, resting your chin on your palm. Lucienne’s smile grew at your awestruck expression. “So, what all is in there about me?”

“Everything,” she answered simply.

You gulped. “Like, everything everything?”

She laughed. It was a harmonious sound.

“Relax, even your most embarrassing of moments pale in comparison to many of the things I read every day,” she assured you, eyes twinkling with amusement. She became serious again. “I thought it advantageous to find your book after your unexpected visit last night. I had to be sure that you weren’t a threat to The Dreaming.”

Your smile fell. “I’m – I’m not. I don’t want to be a threat to anybody.”

Lucienne sighed, expression trickling with pity.

“I know those aren’t your intentions. But the fact remains that your recent abilities are those that no mortal should possess.”

“Don’t worry, kid,” Merv said, standing from his perch against the bookcase to lean against your table instead. He grinned crookedly at you. “We’ll get this figured out. If anyone can sniff out what’s goin’ on here, it’s Lucienne.”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding. The thought of being some kind of danger to this beautiful place rattled you. All you had wanted was to find Morpheus, to make sure everything turned out okay after you released him. After all, being imprisoned against your will for a hundred years had to be traumatic for anyone, right? Even the King of Dreams?

You had more selfish reasons, too, but those would stay private.

Suddenly, a voice called out.

It echoed into the large room, gentle but authoritative, soft but commanding respect. With a wave of warmth washing over your skin, you knew that you would recognize that beautiful sound anywhere.

“Lucienne,” his voice called, “I believe it is time we review the findings from the census.”

All three of you froze in place.

The King of Dreams emerged from the nearest aisle, graceful stride filled with purpose. He donned all black, a sweeping floor length coat flowing behind him as he walked, regal. His alabaster skin almost seemed to glow against his dark attire. His hair was as black as his clothing, still so gloriously messy and wild.

He was in his element, thriving and flourishing in a way that radiated from his very being. This was his domain.

Morpheus’s icy blue eyes moved from Lucienne to Mervyn. Then, they locked onto you.

Your breath hitched as you stood, chair screeching back noisily. That feeling, that delicious humming in your bones, it was different here, more alive. It was starlight sparking in your spine. He stood at least ten feet away, impossibly still, but you could feel his presence as strongly as you would if he were inches from you. Time stood still.

A myriad of emotions flickered through his fathomless eyes at the sight of you, none of which you could place, but whatever they were made the air in the library thick. Your eyes drank in his face and his roamed yours, penetrating but swirling with something soft.

Mervyn cleared his throat uncomfortably. It just then occurred to you that you had no idea how long the two of you had been standing like that, staring at each other.

The sound seemed to bring Dream back to himself.

“Lucienne. Mervyn. Leave us,” he commanded quietly, but he didn’t look at them. His intense gaze never once broke from yours.

Their replies came quickly and in hushed tones, almost as if embarrassed.

“Of course, sir.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

They scurried away with heads down. As they reached the exit to the library, you could hear Mervyn mutter, “Well, talk about some tension...”

Morpheus blinked at the comment, but you didn’t miss the almost-imperceptible smirk that tugged at one corner of his lips. He was still staring at you.

With a smile that revealed every whisper of your heart, you broke the silence.

“Hi.”

Dream took a slow step toward you, measured. Then another. The curtain of dark lashes framing his endless eyes fluttered as he took you in, gaze roaming to your feet and back up again.

“Hello.” His voice was velvet.

You swallowed, begging the blush that you could feel creeping up your neck to go away. Couldn’t you have at least one interaction with him without your body betraying you? You felt like a fucking teenager.

“You, um, never answered my question,” you said, taking a step toward him as well. One of his dark brows rose. “You put me to sleep first. Rude, by the way.”

His smirk wasn’t nearly as well-hidden now.

“My deepest apologies. And what question would that be?”

You took another step closer, still not breaking eye contact. You clasped the back of a chair with one hand to ground yourself.

“You’re… you are alright, then?” you asked quietly. For the smallest of moments, his eyes betrayed everything. He was touched by your concern.

“You have journeyed through The Dreaming, to the heart of my realm, simply to ask after my well-being?”

His voice held an undercurrent of emotion, but he attempted to hide it with the slightest lilt of tease.

A playful glint sparkled in your eye. “Well, I did play spy for over a month just to get into that basement. What’s a desert and an ocean or two?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes was shuttered by the weight of your words. It seemed that once Morpheus got past the initial surprise of seeing you there, the same realization dawned on him that concerned Lucienne.

“You traveled through the outer lands of The Dreaming,” he stated, brows furrowed in unease. “You left the confines of your dream and found yourself here?”

The general trepidation from everyone surrounding your ability to leave your dream world disturbed you. You saw it as a gift, but it seemed to be one that you were not meant to have. You let out a sigh.

“I created a path,” you told him. “It took me through the desert and through an ocean… and then I ended up on that dock out there.” You tilted your chin toward the windows. “The path ended at the gates, and when I touched them, they opened. Then I came here.”

Morpheus was close now, taking in every word you that escaped your lips with rapt attention. His powerful stare was not angry, but perplexed. His eyes were swimming with anxious confusion.

“How is this possible?” he whispered to himself. His pale hand rose, ever so slowly, to ghost the line of your jaw. The touch was barely there, so very brief, but it left tingling chills in its wake. He examined your every feature, searching for the answer. “For you are not a vortex.”

For a moment, you’d forgotten how to speak, mind still reeling from the fact that he had just touched you, and that it felt so indescribable. His fingers had barely brushed an inch of skin, but that starlight sparkling in your spine had overtaken every nerve ending.

“Vortex?” you asked when you found your voice. Your eyebrows came together. “What’s a vortex?”

To your dismay, Dream stepped away from you. He turned toward the table where you were previously sitting with Lucienne and Mervyn, delicate fingers flipping through the many volumes that were stacked over its surface. His hands settled on a red hardback, lifting it so that you could read the gold lettering on the cover.

“Rose Walker,” he replied, face impassive.

At your obvious confusion, Dream stepped back and motioned with a graceful hand toward the archway where Lucienne and Mervyn had disappeared moments before.

“Where are we going?” you asked, walking in the direction he indicated.

Morpheus was tall at your side, right hand ghosting the small of your back, featherlight. The stars in your backbone twinkled at the touch.

His voice was euphonious when he bent to your ear.

“Follow me.”

**read chapter 6 here

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loveissupernatural · 2 years

Text

**read chapter one here** - **read chapter two here** - **read chapter three here** - **read chapter four here** - **read chapter five here**

Morpheus/Dream x fem!reader

In Your Dreams

Chapter 6

“Dreams are the seedlings of realities.”

-James Allen

The Lord of Dreams walked leisurely beside you through the stone halls of his castle, hand now withdrawn and resting at his side. You ignored the tiny prickle of disappointment in your bones at the loss of his touch. He was watching you, eyes churning with his thoughts—none of which you could read.

“So… I’m not a vortex, then? Whatever that is?” you asked quietly, looking up at him. “Is that a good thing?”

“That’s a wonderful thing,” he replied. He looked away from you, ahead. His gait slowed but was still very graceful. “A vortex is a thing of immense power. They can pose a great threat to both The Dreaming and the waking world alike.”

You audibly sighed in relief. “Oh. Well, thank God. The last thing I want to do is be a danger to anyone.”

Morpheus’s icy blue gaze was brushing over you again, filled with curiosity. His eyes roamed your face, as if your features were a puzzle to be solved. You looked away from him, begging the blush that was starting to heat the back of your ears to go away. You could feel his stare.

“The fact remains,” he said after a beat, voice quiet but serious, “that you may not be a vortex, but you are able to traverse this realm in a way that no one but a vortex, or myself, should.”

You gulped down the lump of discomfort in your throat.

“Lucienne told me that I was a lucid dreamer… one of the first she’s seen in ages. Could that have something to do with it?”

Dream shook his head once.

“Even the most talented of lucid dreamers are not capable of entering the heart of The Dreaming uninvited,” he stated.

That word, “uninvited”, sent a pang through your chest. You knew that you weren’t supposed to be here, but something about his phrasing made you feel very self-conscious, almost embarrassed.

“I—I didn’t mean to intrude,” you told him quickly, your nervous gaze casting to the shining stone floor. Your chest constricted with your next words. “If you want, I can leave—”

A pale hand shot away from his side and closed around your wrist. The sudden action almost made you jump, that delectable murmur of something indescribable skirting across your skin instantaneously. Your wide eyes rose to his penetrating ones.

“Uninvited, but not unwelcome,” Dream spoke earnestly, his words carrying such weight. The softness in his expression was hidden, but you could detect it in the rise of his brows, in the subtle parting of his lips.

Your eyes darted down to his fingers closed around your wrist, and as soon as they did, he released his grip and his hand snapped back to his side. Morpheus’s fingers twitched before he slipped the offending hand into the pocket of his long, black coat. His expression slid into something stoic, a wall going up faster than the bricks flying into place on the outside of his palace.

The sudden tension thickening the air made your throat sticky with nerves.

The two of you continued your slow walk, his hands in his coat pockets and yours twisting in front of you. The stiffness in the atmosphere scratched underneath your skin, a pest.

“So,” you offered suddenly, desperate to break the abrupt silence, “Lucienne said that you were on a quest to find your tools?”

Dream’s face remained impassive, but you didn’t miss the almost-imperceptible sigh of relief that escaped his nose. You gathered that he was glad for the change of subject.

“Yes,” he answered, chin rising with thinly-veiled pride, “my sand, my helm, and my ruby.”

A realization stitched together in your brain. “They were taken from you, weren’t they? By Roderick Burgess?”

At the mention of the Demon King’s name, Morpheus visibly hardened. His full lips pressed into a thin and unhappy line. He nodded, but barely.

“I’d heard about a few things,” you began cautiously, eyes now glued to his impassive profile, watching for any indication that you should stop talking. “That the Burgesses’ lives started going to shit when some of his favorite relics went missing.”

Dream stayed expressionless beside you. You took that as a sign to keep going.

“But they were never his, they were yours? Huh. Serves that asshole right.”

At that, the Dream King’s stony façade slipped, but only for the briefest of moments. The corner of his mouth twitched upward before it settled back into a brood.

“As deserving of misfortune as Roderick Burgess may have been, I would have much preferred my tools be waiting for me when I escaped,” Morpheus replied, his voice stained with annoyance. He quieted for a moment, icy blue eyes settling onto your face. They were swirling again with some well-hidden feeling that you couldn’t decipher. “When you released me,” he corrected himself, soft tone tinted with thankfulness.

“Did you find them all?” you asked.

“Indeed,” he answered, his shoulders straightening with pride. You smiled at him brightly.

“Good. I’m glad,” you said sincerely, meeting his guarded gaze with a kind one. You were truly happy to see that he was doing well after he’d disappeared in a flurry of blinding light and whipping wind. “I’ll be honest… I was worried about you.”

Morpheus was moved by your concern, even if he concealed it well.

“You needn’t,” he stated simply.

He seemed perplexed by your unease, as if a being such as himself was not worth this emotion on your part—like he was too powerful for your unease over his welfare to be warranted.

You thought your feelings were justifiable, however. He’d been captured and held against his will for 100 years. Dream wasn’t untouchable.

Suddenly, the dark hallway opened into a stunning, cathedral-like throne room. The stone arches stretched above you, massive yet intricate, stemming from carved marble statues of creatures that both inspired and frightened you. Everything was dark, shining stone, gargantuan and intimidating. Your eyes traveled upward on a nearby column, to the statue of a griffin on its top, to the arch sprouting from its back that disappeared into a stunning star-filled night sky. You craned your neck as far as you could without losing your balance, turning in a slow circle to fully appreciate the multicolored galaxy that twinkled and twirled where the ceiling should be.

You didn’t bother to hide your awed gasp or to close your slack jaw.

“Dream…” you breathed, barely above a whisper, your eyes raking every inch of the milky constellations, “did you – did you make this?”

When he didn’t reply, you tore your eyes from the universe above your head and looked for him. He had taken a few steps back from you, standing in front of the winding stone staircase with the most peculiar look in his eyes. He was watching you take it all in.

At your imploring look, he dropped his chin in a nod, eyes beginning to twinkle. “I did.”

You let out an admiring breath and grinned, placing your hands over your heart as you looked toward the sky again. You turned in another circle, trying to appreciate every last detail, but your eyes were always finding a new cloud filled with colors or a shooting star that flashed by where it hadn’t been before.

“I could just look at this for hours,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “This has to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You felt his presence beside you, but you didn’t tear your eyes from the ceiling this time. You could feel the prickle of Dream’s stare on your cheek. After a moment, the sensation ceased. He tilted his head back to observe the night sky too, shoulder now barely brushing against yours. You chanced a glance up at him. The strong line of his jaw was cast in sharp relief against the twinkling blue light of the heavens above. His profile seemed to be carved from the same dark marble that wove throughout the castle.

“It is a wonder,” Morpheus began, voice as warm and smooth as velvet, “to see my world through new eyes. To fully appreciate the most miniscule of details that escaped my notice long ago.”

The corners of your lips upturned bashfully at his gratitude for your perspective.

“Miniscule?” you repeated quietly, almost afraid that if you spoke too loudly the stars would hear you and scamper away. A disbelieving chuckle escaped your throat. “If this is just the tip of the iceberg, I can’t begin to imagine the rest.”

Dream’s reaction to you was beginning to seep through the stony mask he’d formed after grabbing your wrist. He was still staring up at the galaxy-filled ceiling, but his lashes fluttered almost-imperceptibly at your tone. Your voice was filled with so much sincerity and genuine care. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple noticeably dipping.

His chin dropped ever so slightly, his gaze dropping with it. Those incredible eyes shifted to you again and you hastily snapped yours back to the breathtaking ceiling, hoping with every fiber of your being that Morpheus hadn’t caught you staring. Then, as if on cue, a fire began to creep up your neck and stain your cheeks. Your hands fisted at your sides, frustrated at your body’s inability to fucking chill. You were an adult, damn it.

You were suddenly hyperaware of everything: of the air thick with tension, of your thundering heart, of the warm pressure of his coat-clad arm against your naked one, of his endless eyes caressing the side of your heated face, of that intoxicating vibration in the center of your bones that was pulsating at his proximity.

You felt like you were going insane.

“Lord Morpheus, are you ready to review the cens—? Oh.”

Lucienne strode into the throne room with a raven flying close behind her, a large leather ledger in her arms. She was all business and ready to work; that is, until she looked up from her book. The two of you jumped apart at her arrival as if scalded, your face the color of a pink rose and Morpheus looking uncharacteristically off-kilter.

To your shock, the raven spoke.

“And who is this?” he asked smugly, head cocking to fix you with a beady eye.

“My deepest apologies, my lord,” Lucienne stammered, clearing her throat. “We did not mean to interrupt—”

“No, Lucienne,” Dream stated, regal coolness sliding back into place in the blink of an eye, “you are not interrupting any matter of importance.”

Lucienne cautiously stepped further into the vast room, the bird hopping behind her. Her eyes peered at you and her king over the edge of her round spectacles. Her probing gaze did nothing to douse the flush that betrayed you.

“I repeat my question,” the raven declared, flying forward to land directly in front of you. “Who are you, milady?”

You stifled a grin at his nosy tone. “I’m Y/N.”

The black bird’s feathers ruffled, then he shook it off, like it was some involuntary reaction that he wasn’t used to yet.

“Ohhh, you’re Y/N!” the raven realized, awe evident in his voice. His head tilted to the side again, as if to get a better look at you. “You’re the knight in shining armor that came to the boss’s rescue!”

You laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t know if I’d say it like that…”

The bird hopped closer to Morpheus, who was now looking annoyed.

“She’s pretty for a knight,” the raven whispered conspiratorially, turning his head to the side and blinking at Dream in what was clearly meant to be a wink.

Morpheus’s jaw ticked.

“Thanks?” you chuckled.

“Ugh, where are my manners?” the bird scolded himself, fluttering to land in front of you again. “The name’s Matthew.”

You grinned at him now, deciding that you very much liked this raven. He was a sassy one.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matthew.”

“Now that introductions are finished, let us continue on, shall we?” Lucienne cut in, throwing an irritated but amused glance in Matthew’s direction. The raven was unbothered.

The librarian sighed and regarded you with a knowing look that made you squirm. With a bracing of her shoulders and a quick blink, she stood to her full height and was once again formal. Her eyes returned to the dream king.

“I have completed the census you requested, Lord Morpheus,” she stated proudly.

Dream’s eyes glinted in approval. “Good. And?”

“I have accounted for 11,062 of them.”

“Wow,” Matthew said, regarding Lucienne with admiration. “Someone’s been busy.”

“Yes. Well…” she shrugged with a smile, flattered. Lucienne handed the large ledger to Morpheus, who began to thumb through it gingerly. “There are a handful of new entities.”

“That is to be expected,” Morpheus said lightly, turning a page with his pale fingers. You wanted to peer around him to see a bit of Lucienne’s handiwork, but you didn’t want to insert yourself into matters that didn’t pertain to you. You stayed a few steps away, playing with your hands.

Lucienne blinked, taking a large breath, steeling herself for something.

“But… three of the Major Arcana are gone.”

Dream’s icy blue eyes shot up from the ledger, fixing his librarian with a commanding and authoritative gaze. It amazed you, and almost frightened you, the ability he had to radiate power from just his eyes alone.

“Name them.”

Lucienne obeyed.

“The first is Gault,” she explained. Morpheus’s head turned away from the three of you, toward the winding staircase and his throne. Your eyes followed his and settled onto three long and beautiful stained-glass windows. You stared, enthralled, as the leftmost window began to morph and rearrange its glass pieces. They spun into the image of a woman with dark skin and blank, pupil-less eyes. “A Nightmare who, I must say, I never trusted.”

“She is a shape-changer,” Dream stated, his gaze returning to Lucienne with an undercurrent of trepidation. “It is not in her nature to be trustworthy.” His brows furrowed in concern. “Who else?”

Lucienne was hiding her discomfort well, but you could still sense it.

“The Corinthian.”

Morpheus’s eyes cast to his windows again. You watched as the stained-glass in the middle began to swirl and change as well, glass shards sliding together to reveal the image of a forbidding man in a hat and suit, eyes hidden by circular black sunglasses. Something in your gut churned, disquieted at the sight.

“I assumed as much,” the King of Dreams replied, voice low with shrouded anger. “Still feeding on the dreamers he was meant to serve.”

“Yes,” the librarian nodded.

Morpheus was still now, rapt with alarmed attention. “The last?”

Lucienne’s brows pulled together, clearly disturbed the most by the words she was about to speak.

“The last is Fiddler’s Green.”

“Fiddler’s Green?” Dream repeated, stunned. Lucienne hummed in acknowledgement.

All of your heads turned toward the remaining stained-glass window, watching as it altered itself into the picturesque image of green trees and mountains with a crystal river cutting through its valley. This confused you. Why was a place, not a person, revealed in the glass?

“That is passing strange,” Morpheus stated, perplexed. His eyes fell to the floor in troubled thought before rising to Lucienne. “He is, after all, vavasor of his own dominion and always so reliable.”

“I know,” Lucienne agreed.

An uncomfortable silence weighed on the air. Dream swallowed, voice wrought with guilt.

“This is my fault. Had I been here, fulfilling my function—”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest at his words. He had been held against his will. How could he possibly take the blame for this?

“That’s not true,” you spoke suddenly, the thought pouring out before you could stop it.

Lucienne nodded vigorously in agreement with you.

“It was not your fault, my lord.”

“No?” he countered, his guilt turning into grieved acceptance. “Then whose?”

Lucienne stared at her sensible shoes, avoiding his intense gaze. His head turned to you, waiting for a retort, but you knew that nothing you could say would make him lift the burden of fault from himself.

“I’m afraid there is yet more news,” the head librarian began, tone measured and cautious. “Gossip, really, but…”

“Go on,” Morpheus implored.

“There are rumors among the dream folk… of a vortex. Perhaps you might wish to investigate.”

Your ears perked up at this. Morpheus’s eyes slid in your direction, then back to Lucienne. He closed the heavy ledger with a discernable thud.

“The rumors are quite true,” he responded, tone much blither than you would have predicted. Lucienne obviously hadn’t been expecting this reaction either, her doubtful brows raising in surprise. He spoke his next words like a sonnet. “A true annulet. The first of this era.”

He was intrigued by this. If what he told you about vortexes were true, how could he be so calm? Lucienne voiced your thoughts before you could.

“Then you must hunt for it, sir! It must be controlled,” she insisted passionately, disturbed by his lack of apprehension.

Morpheus turned away from Lucienne, Matthew, and you, taking elegant steps toward the center of the immense room. His head tipped back thoughtfully as he took in the glowing sight of the nearest galaxy that spun above your heads. Your eyes followed his to see the ceiling beginning to alter, stars and light rippling like water to reveal the outline of a young woman’s sleeping face.

“The vortex is a she, Lucienne. Not an “it”,” he stated matter-of-factly. You didn’t know how, but every word he spoke was lined with such weight, such wisdom, always. “And the Endless are forbidden from taking action against any mortal who is not an active threat.”

Your mind spun at his statement. They once considered you a threat to The Dreaming, didn’t they? You weren’t entirely sure they had decided that you weren’t one.

“Yes, but should the threat become active?” Lucienne insisted.

“Then, perhaps one of our problems may prove a solution to the other three,” the King of Dreams replied, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “She is a vortex, after all. Sooner or later, she will draw the stray dreams to her.”

Lucienne wasn’t convinced.

“Is that not risky, Lord?” she questioned. “She could destroy The Dreaming. And the waking world in the process.”

All of your gazes rose again to the sleeping woman’s face.

“I’m watching her,” Morpheus asserted.

“Yes, but only when she sleeps. Perhaps one of us should surveil her in the waking world.”

You swallowed. This woman, this vortex, sounded dangerous. Should you volunteer to watch her? You were the only one in the room that spent the majority of their life in the waking world, after all.

“I think it best I not leave The Dreaming unattended for now,” Morpheus said. You understood his reluctance to leave his realm so soon after its recent return to normalcy.

“I could go,” Matthew volunteered. He looked back and forth between Lucienne and his master hopefully. Dream thought on this for a moment.

“Very well,” he acquiesced, seemingly satisfied. “Lucienne will tell you what to look for, Matthew.” Morpheus’s gaze searched the twinkling beams of light that shaped the slumbering woman’s face. “And what you see, I too will see.”

Suddenly, the woman’s eyes opened, awakened, and her abrupt gaze startled you. As quickly as her face had appeared, it sunk away into the night sky until nothing remained but the unassuming swaths of starlight and swirling color.

“She woke up,” Matthew observed, wings giving a quick flutter of excitement at his new mission.

“I could help,” you proposed, turning away from the beautiful sky to lock gazes with the lead librarian and the dream king. Matthew cawed at your offer. You couldn’t tell if he was enthused by the notion or if he resented the idea of needing assistance.

“I’m not sure if that’s the best idea,” Lucienne answered hesitantly, watching you over the top of her glasses.

“I’m the only one here who spends most of my time in the waking world, right?” you asked. “I might as well be of some use while I’m there.” You shrugged, then fixed Morpheus with a hopeful look. “Let me help.”

“It isn’t that we don’t appreciate your enthusiasm,” Lucienne told you gently, then turned to her Lordship. “But, sire, we still don’t know the extent of Y/N’s abilities within The Dreaming and what they could mean for the realm. Would it be wise for her to be exposed to this vortex? What if it only makes things worse?”

“Lucienne makes a valid point,” Morpheus agreed, remaining unmoved by your hopeful gaze. However, his voice softened. “While your desire to assist is admirable, the welfare of The Dreaming must come before all else.”

You visibly deflated.

“I mean… I understand,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “But surely I can be of some assistance, in some way? Even if it means not being around the vortex—Rose—when I’m awake. This seems like a big deal, and the last thing I want to do is sit around, doing nothing, while everyone is working to prevent some kind of disaster.”

Lucienne’s lips curved into a small smile, her eyes twinkling with appreciation.

Morpheus took a measured step toward you with his expressive eyes reflecting some form of sentiment. As always, whatever meaning twirled inside those endless orbs escaped you.

“If exposure to Rose Walker impacts you negatively, in any way—and in turn, The Dreaming—I would have no choice but to take action,” he expounded, each word coated in a careful timbre. Dream’s dark brows pulled together, his expression morphing into something quite pained. “For any harm to befall you, to bring harm to you… it is the last thing I wish.”

Something fluttered in your chest at the emotion in his words, at the unfiltered force of his poignant stare. Then, the heaviness of his confession settled onto your shoulders in a suffocating jolt. Morpheus had just told you, in no uncertain terms, that if you became a threat to The Dreaming, he would have to kill you along with the vortex. The idea of that terrified you beyond explanation, but the very clear agony in his eyes at the thought of having to carry out such a thing gave you a tiny, strange sense of comfort.

It wasn’t just that he was protecting The Dreaming, he was protecting you.

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Matthew cawed, hopping toward you with his dark eyes doing their best to relay comfort. “I got this covered. No need to put you in any danger.”

You smiled at the raven. “I’ve got nothing but faith in you, Matthew.”

“Perhaps… you could assist me in the library?” Lucienne offered suddenly. “In addition to this business surrounding the vortex and the missing Arcana, we still need to assess your abilities and discover their source.” Her eyes flickered to Morpheus with thinly-veiled concern. “The more proactive we are, the more certain I am that we can prevent any… well, threat… that you could potentially pose to the realm.”

Dream gave a decisive nod almost immediately. He was tall by your side; compelling and rippling with silent authority.

“Yes,” the king agreed, voice quiet but commanding. His eyes implored for you to heed him. “Y/N, accompany Lucienne to the library. Assist her with anything she requests of you. Allaying the possibility of your capabilities becoming a risk—it is of the utmost importance.”

You told yourself that this was important to him because the safety of his realm was paramount, that there was no other reason—but that little voice in the back of your head was spurred on by that delightful humming in your cells. He cares about you… it murmured, sickeningly sweet. You pushed it down and locked it away.

“Keeping dreams alive and well… that’s what’s most important,” you eventually said, looking to the sparkling heavens of the throne room with awestruck affection. “If that’s what I can do to keep this place safe, I’ll do it. No questions asked.”

Your words seemed to touch something for Morpheus. For maybe the first time since you’d met Dream of the Endless, his closed lips upturned into a true smile. The sight was a striking one, and the rarity of such an occurrence dawned on you at the stunned look on Lucienne’s face. Matthew fluttered to your side in a silent seal of approval.

As Dream had requested, you left the throne room by Lucienne’s side to return to the library and begin your research. Morpheus’s watchful eyes followed your retreating form until you were out of sight.

Matthew glided over your heads, leading the way. You didn’t miss his smug remark when he soared past your ear.

“I didn’t know he could smile.”

Chapter 7 is coming soon!

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