After I found those photos, I can't stop thinking of young Morpheus and young Corinthian, so I wrote a fic of them with holiday vibes.
Title: Silent Night
(about 1270 words)
*It's first time to translate my fic, so sorry for my poor English.
<Update> I posted this to AO3 too. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44290988)
The young king of Dreams apparently does not like the throne.
The Corinthian, who had been summoned, stepped into the deserted room and looked not at the throne towering high in front, but in the room dimly lit by the light from the high windows.
There he is - it didn't take long to find him. At the bottom of the stone staircase extending down from the throne, a small black figure sits like a child forgotten by the parents to pick up. He faces down in a thick book in his arms.
When the Corinthian stands before him, Morpheus looks up from the book after a moment. He looks a little surprised. You summoned me, thought the Corinthian with feeling a little offended and asks.
"What can I do for you?"
Morpheus turns his face back down to the book again.
"You've gone off to the waking world without my permission, again." He says with tuning the page slowly.
Here comes again. The Corinthian put his hands in the pockets in disgust. "Nothing wrong with that, isn't it”
Morpheus looks up slowly. His light-coloured eyes looks up into the Corinthian's face.
"No, it's not fine. Your role is here in the Dreaming. Not in the Waking World."
“And for that role,” says the Corinthian “I want to know more about humans."
Morpheus' eyes grow more stern as he lets out a small sigh, and get slightly narrowed.
"If you want to know about humans, why don't you read books?" Morpheus says and closes the book with a thud. A loud slam echoes hollowly through the hall. The theatrical way makes the Corinthian even more irritated.
"Books?" He shrugs his shoulders. "You can't understand those complicated humans just from what's written in books. You've got your nose in a book all day like that, and you still don't understand people at all."
Before he finishes the line all at once, Morpheus' pure white cheeks had turned slightly red. But that doesn’t frighten the Corinthian; in fact, it even caused a certain elation in his heart. If the king is to rise up and grab him, he would wish for it. But Morpheus remained perched on the cold stone steps, being looked down by this cheeky nightmare. And then, a cold smile appeared on his thin lips.
"Do you think I'd understand humans if I mingled with them like you do? You were just having fun again anyway, weren't you?"
"Well, yes" the Corinthian gave a small shrug. "I wanted to visit the university before the Christmas holiday starts. It's nice there. It's full of people in our age, full of dreams and nightmares” he licks his lips remembering that sweet air.
Morpheus rolled his small eyes and looked away from the Corinthians. Not wanting to miss his gaze, the Corinthian sat down on the staircase. The first step from the floor, one step below the one covered with Morpheus' robe.
"You made me as a nightmare" says the Corinthian. "And to live up to it, the best place to learn about humans is there.”
Morpheus' slender chin rests on the hand that holds his legs.
“You should go there too,” the words comes out of the Corinthian’s mouth. The King of Dreams, who was staring into the void, straightened up and opened his tight-lipped mouth.
"No. I have a responsibility. I have a responsibility to rule the collective unconsciousness of the humans here. I must fulfill that responsibility to live up to the name of the Endless."
Every time the word ‘responsibility’ coming out of his mouth as if he persuades himself, it looks like strangling his thin neck and body. The Corinthian leans forward to look into his eyes.
"A little absence won't break this realm, because you built it, Morpheus… my lord."
Though he's giving the sweet words that it's okay to relax a little, another part of Corinthian laughs darkly. I want to go and enjoy the waking world with you - this feeling is actually mixed with the desire to drag this noble king down to the same place as himself. Morpheus does never step out of the absolute right place, and that annoys the Corinthian. It's a feeling he learnt from young humans. But -
"No. I am not like you." This stubborn king will not seduced by him, and this argument always ends up there.
The Corinthian looks up. Then he suddenly remembers and puts one hand in his jacket pocket.
“Oh, by the way -”
He gets his hand out from his pocket to Morpheus, who stares at it.
"I found it in the Christmas market."
He passed a glass sphere on a small pedestal to his thin white fingers.
"What was the name ...... oh yeah, a snow globe."
As Morpheus twirled it around with his fingers, the little white grains inside moved softly. The Corinthian held out his hand once more and Morpheus hands it to him. He grabbed the pedestal and turned it over, then slowly turned back. The grains inside fluttered and danced in all directions. Morpheus watches without blinking. The Corinthian turns it over again and winds the little screw at the bottom. When he takes his hand away, the music box plays a melody.
"Here you go," The Corinthian says, handing it to Morpheus again. "I give it to you."
In the dome, a small figure of black cat sits in the dancing snowflakes. I don't know why I wanted this in that little stall with all those similar goods, but when it's in Morpheus' hand, I feel as if it has been meant to be there.
"The humans make pretty things, huh?" said the Corinthian.
Morpheus was staring at the small object his hand, but he looked at the Corinthian. His mouth is smiling. Not a cold smile this time, but an amused smirk.
"Oh, I can do that too."
Morpheus then quickly raises his free hand. His palm opens up and his thin but strong fingers gets stiffened for a brief moment and turn the hand softly. As if guided by that move, the white stuff slowly descended from the darkness of the high ceiling. Like the real snowflakes, it came down quietly and gradually and they disappear just before they hit the floor.
Morpheus looked back to the object in his hand again. The quiet sound flows from his hand. The Corinthian remembers the lyrics of the melody as he listens to the sound, which is too small and modest to be echoed in this great hall.
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright.
Time flows slowly and calmly between them. The falling snow makes this moment seem eternal. The Corinthian’s irritated feelings from earlier disappears like snowflakes.
Morpheus is still staring at the glass ball, as if he has been taken in that. His eyes are wide open. The snow born from his hands is reflected on his eyes. This is more beautiful, isn’t it? The Corinthian was totally mesmerised but then he notices the eyes are looking at him.
"Why are you looking?" Morpheus asked.
"Nothing." The Corinthian quickly avert his eyes and sees the above end of the swirling staircase. A black, cold throne stands there.
Will he one day go there? To the place beyond the reach of me who is just a creation of him, thought the Corinthian.
He turns his eyes back to Morpheus’s face, which is still sometimes looks fragile and young.
"It's nothing, really," The Corinthian says again. The young Dream lord looks back at the young nightmare and just tilts his head curiously.
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