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thepaintedlady00 · 2 years ago

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The Sandman and the Girl Without Dreams

Chapter 16: The Path Paved In Golden Flames

TW: gore, violence, knives, cuts, a tiny bit of angst (this is the end of the angst train I promise), bickering, slight reliving of some memories, smut (oral both receiving, penetration), fluff, apologies, gifts, Dream finally has his head out of his ass This chapter is mostly unedited so if there are mistakes please just ignore them 😅 My app won't let me edit long posts so 🤷‍♀️ Enjoy! Reposting AGAIN BECAUSE THIS APP HATES ME! xD

Destiny watched as his Weaver turned down the empty path, her body disappearing from sight into the maze. He bowed his head, fear and sorrow consuming him. The Fates clicked their tongues and sighed. The Crone spoke, cold and angry as ever, “Such a foolish girl you’ve brought up, Destiny.”

“We thought she’d be more reasonable than the last,” The Mother noted.

The Maiden shook her head. “The path of gold is certain to consume her.”

“We don’t know that,” he answered. “She has chosen the path unseen. The outcome is yet to be written.”

The Mother met his eyes. “Written or not, a sacrifice is necessary to free your lady love as well as those ensnared by the darkness.”

The Crone hummed in agreement. “A sacrifice of fire and starlight.”

“A final test.” The Maiden said quietly. “Of future, past and present. Time will tell what your Weaver is worthy of.”

Destiny stood in the garden even after The Fates had vanished. He watched the butterflies swirl, upset and confused. “I have faith in you, Penelope.”

***

The Corinthian stared me down, my reflection shining in his dark glasses. I could feel Dreams eyes on me, could feel the cold, gentle caress of him against the barrier I had put between us. The Corinthian sighed. "I'm disappointed. After everything he's done… Everything he's denied you, you still defend him? Why?"

"I made a promise," I said, glad to feel the cool metal of my blades in my hands. Thank god for magic. "One I don't intend to break again, especially not for you."

He smiled. "I would have liked you as my lady."

"Penelope," Dream whispered again, his voice raw and desperate.

Ignoring him I addressed The Corinthian. "Are you going to stand down? Or are we finally crossing blades, nightmare?"

"I ain't gonna stop, but I ain't gonna fight you." He shrugged his shoulders. "With those bits of Destruction a fight with you would be pointless… Boring. Lucky for us both I brought back up."

I had only a second to react, twisting my body to shield Dream as the knife flew from the crowd and ricochet off of my blade, slicing through my arm as it redirected away from us. Dreams hands grabbed me, steadying me as I glared out into the crowd as heavy footsteps and a whistling tune filled the room. He stepped up onto the stage and smiled at me. "Quick thinking, Barlow"

Pushing myself off of Dream I faced the tall man standing beside The Corinthian. "Porter. I gotta admit, I was hoping you were dead."

He shrugged. "I’m resilient. The others were weak, Elias especially. But, thanks to you he's not here to hold me back anymore."

Dreams' hands still stayed on me, holding my arms, even as the blood from my cut neared his fingers. "What do you get out of all this?"

"I get to fucking kill you," he said with a wide grin. "Elias was a fool to have kept me from doing it sooner. Though, I admit killing your friends was quite satisfying, especially The Marquis." My grip on the hilts of the blades tightened as The Bull pulled a knife out of his belt. “What do you say, sweetheart? Are you ready to play this game for real? No tricks, just me and you. Winner takes all.”

“Let’s get on with it then.”

“Penelope,” Dream said, his hands squeezing my arms. “This is-”

I stepped out of his grip. “Just deal with your nightmare, Dream. Pretend we aren’t even here, you’re good at that.”

Maybe it was an unfair time to throw insults at him, but I needed to focus and him doting on my every move would make that difficult. I pushed the guilt I felt at the feeling of my words striking him, pushed everything else down until all that remained was The Bull. He took a step forward, his smile never faltering, then another before moving his knife toward me. I sidestepped and ducked beneath his burly frame, slicing his knee and stabbing deep into his back before dodging again as he threw his elbow back in an attempt to get me off him. Back in front of Dream, my blades singing with the blood that now coated them, I looked up at him as he smiled wider, rolling his shoulder a little. “My turn.”

He moved faster than before, dodging each swipe of my blade and punching my jaw as hard as he could. I fumbled to the ground, ears ringing and my entire skull rattling with the blow. Fuck it had been a long time since he and I had gone toe to toe, I’d forgotten how hard he hit. His laugh echoed off the ceiling as he moved back toward The Corinthian. I carefully moved my jaw, spitting blood out of my mouth before standing once again. “That all you got?”

"Far from it doll," he said with a laugh as he advanced forward once more.

The kick to my sternum was unexpected and sent me flying off the stage and onto the ground. I had no time to catch my breath before The Bull leapt down, knife poised and ready to end this. I rolled to the side, gasping and sore, just missing the stab of his blade. He twisted the blade in his fingers and moved to stab me again, but I stabbed into his wrist, holding his arm away from me as he pushed harder with a desperate thirst for blood.

When my strength didn’t falter his fist came swiftly from the side and punched up into my ribs, the hit not only broke a few, but sent me falling further into the aisle. I hurried back onto my feet and moved backwards, dodging each movement of his fists and blade, waiting for an opportunity of my own to strike. The wound on his shoulder provided such, it was a small delay but it would have to do. He moved again and then I struck, lunging forward, leaping onto him and digging both my blades into his back and pulling up.

The Bull grabbed me by the hair and threw me into the doors to the room, not giving me any time to move or think before kicking me all the way out into the lobby. My head cracked against the ground as he advanced, stepping on my knee until the bone strained and cracked beneath him. With a pained cry I stabbed his thigh and rolled when he lifted the pressure off me, kicking the shin of his leg as I went. I was off balance now, my knee burned as I shuffled backward and watched The Bulls movements. He smiled, but this one was no longer the wide smug grin, it was tense and forced. He was getting annoyed with me.

He started advancing more sloppily now, the pain I’d inflicted on him mingling with that bubbling frustration. It was risky, relying on his fractured emotional state, but I intended to use every possible advantage I could. We moved around the people, who appeared to be sleeping or frozen, dishing out hit after hit until my back slammed into the cool metal of the elevator doors just as they began to open. The Bull shoved me inside, winding his fist back. I ducked and used the opportunity to lay into him.

My blades sliced the back of his knees, stabbed into his side and stomach, just as I brought my hand down to bury the blade into his chest, his hand caught my arm and threw me onto the bloody floor of the elevator as it began moving up. His knife dug into the side of my stomach and my sharp cry filled the space. The Bull settled on top of me, smug and over confident as he abandoned his own blade and forcefully pulled one of mine from my hand. “I’m gonna make this nice and slow.”

The metal of my blade caught the light, fire raging inside it as he brought it down to my face. I caught it in my hand, wincing as the metal sliced through my palm. My blood didn’t drip down onto me though, it ran backwards up the blade and spread out over his hand. I could smell the flesh burning as The Bull let go of the hilt with a startled noise as my blood burned him. I wasted no time throwing all my body weight into him, pulling him to the ground. The dagger flipped in the air, I caught it and quickly buried both of my blades deep into his eye sockets. His body moved, twitching and flailing for a moment before it stopped entirely.

Breathing heavily I forced myself to my feet, wiping the blood off my blades with my already ruined pants. I hit the lobby button and stared down at the lifeless body of The Bull. The ride down was silent, still, as my body reeled in pain. “Have fun in Hell you fucking bastard.”

The doors opened and I slowly made my way back to the convention room, just in time to catch the demon standing between The Corinthian and Dream, holding him still with Lyrias twisted dark threads. “Now you die, Dream Lord. You then Destiny.”

I threw one of my blades, aiming to slice through the threads. “You and I have business, demon!”

Its head turned to me with a dark sneer. “You. Why won’t you just die?!”

With a painful shrug I moved closer to the stage. “Maybe it’s just not in my nature.”

It turned away from Dream, jumping down off the stage and standing between me and them. “You cannot stop me, Weaver. Not without killing Destiny’s precious Lyria.”

“I’ll find a way.”

A dark smile, oozing with black spread on her face. “No, you will die.”

It lunged forward, slashing with dark claws and cutting my leg and hitting the daggers from my hands as I dove behind it. The Corinthian had turned to Dream, dagger raised and ready to strike his creator. I grabbed his threads and pulled him to his knees. Dream watched, still unable to move his feet from the threads I hadn’t cut around his legs. “Penelope!”

Claws dug into my shoulder, reopening the once sealed wound there as the demon cut deep and then threw me to the ground. It smiled widely, twisting its hands, a noose tightening around my neck and pulling me back into the stage, choking me. Voices filled my ears, The Stewards, Olethros, Isabel, Pierre, Johanna. Voices of all the people I’d lost, or could lose. The demon laughed. “Such a convenient thing for you to keep tied to you. A noose, made of your own failures, perfectly sized to hang you with. Pathetic. Soul bound. Fate Weaver. Your titles matter not, for you are weak. It was foolish of you to think you could ever beat me.”

Soul bound. The voices grew louder in my ears as my lungs began to burn. Fate Weaver. I closed my eyes, my hand scratching the ground, fingers running through coarse sand. Sand. The hilt of my dagger brushed against the tips of my fingers, buried deep in the black sand that now coated the floor between me and the demon. I wasn’t just those things. Thunder rumbled in the room, echoing loud and fiercely as the dark clouds of The Gathering Storm covered the ceiling. I wrapped my hand around it and cut the threads around my neck, ignoring the way the blade sliced through my skin as well. Lightning struck the claws of the demon, bringing it to its knees with a startled cry as I stood, the sand swirling around me. “I’m not just a soul bound or a Fate Weaver. I’m the fucking Lady of the Dreaming and so long as I live you won’t lay a finger on my King.”

Storm swirled around Lyria’s hunched over body, twisting around her limbs and shocking the demon as it writhed and fought against it. I moved fast, grabbing hold of her shoulder and looking back at Dream, our eyes locking for the first time in days. “Finish it, Dream.” I looked at The Gathering Storm and bowed my head. “Thank you, my friend.”

Then Lyria and I were gone, landing in Destiny’s garden as he stood, waiting for us. The demon was weakened by the lightning and I had hoped that Lyria would be strong enough to fight it. If Destiny could get through to her, maybe the book could provide some information. Black blood spilled from her mouth as the gold of her eyes flared against the darkness. “Kill me.”

“No.” I said, grabbing the book from Destiny’s table and flipping through the pages. “We’re going to save you.”

“There isn’t time!” She cried out. “Kill me. Do it before I hurt him again.”

Destiny knelt down in front of her, cradling her face in his hands. “I will not lose you again.”

Her head slammed into his face, the blow from the demon strong enough to send him to the ground as it climbed on top of him, raising its claws with a shriek. Its hand froze in the air, trembling as the gold in her eyes raged. She was fighting, as hard as she could, I needed to be fast. The pages provided little information, but a dispelling spell finally met my eyes and I wasted no time in reading it. The demon's dark shadowed body pulled away from Lyrias, both of them screaming as I completed the spell and the demon was pulled back to its own shadow realm.

Lyria slumped forward into Destiny's chest as he sat up and quickly checked her for a pulse. “Des, is she okay?”

He pressed his head into her hair and breathed in deeply, quiet for a long moment. “She’s alive.”

I released a relieved breath, my shoulder stinging as I neared the two. Her eyes fluttered open, the black finally gone from them as she looked around us. “Is it truly over?”

“Yes, Lyria,” Destiny said softly. “You are home.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned weakly to him. “Destiny… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He stroked her cheeks. “No, this was my doing. I should have told you of Penelope… should have told you what I intended.”

The sting in my shoulder intensified until I found myself gasping for air. Looking over my shoulder at the shadows as they began to seep from my wound. Destiny looked at me, Lyria’s eyes followed. “He’s left his mark on you. He will use it to pull you to him.”

“You can still trap him.” Lyria mumbled weakly as Destiny held her close. Her golden eyes met mine. “His soul, whatever is left of it, is bound to the book. Find the page with my handprint and you’ll find the spell to rebind his physical form to the book as well.”

“Penelope-”

“Don’t worry Des, I’ll finish it. Just… Tell him I’m sorry,” I whispered, gripping the book tight in my blackening hands as my shoulder seethed in shadows. “And that I loved him more than anything.”

“Weaver!” Destiny yelled as I let myself be pulled into the darkness.

***

Dream rose to his feet, his eyes turning away from where his lady had vanished from to The Corinthian as he clapped slowly. “Quite the woman isn’t she? I’m starting to think I put my money on the wrong Weaver. So, back to square one it seems.” He pulled a knife from his jacket and shook his head. “But I won’t go willingly.”

“A knife against a dream?” he asked, stepping towards his creation slowly.

“You don’t think dreams can die?” The nightmare egged on. “Let’s find out.”

Dream held his hand out, drawing upon his power. “Enough.” The sand has only just begun to swirl around The Corinthian as he stabbed his knife into Dream’s hand. It was surprising to him when it actually hurt, so much so he dropped to his knee and examined the cut with tentative hands. “How?”

“I’ve got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker,” The nightmare said with a wide, smug grin. “She’s taking your place at the center of The Dreaming. She’s bringing the walls down between the sleepers' minds and now they’re all dreaming the same dream. A dream that I inspired.”

“No.”

“It’s already happening. There’s nothing you can do. She’s asleep and dreaming.”

“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”

The Corinthian shrugged. “Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you’re planning to kill her.”

Dream ignored the nightmares words and pushed himself into the dream just as she and her brother turned towards him. “You need to wake up!”

“Don’t listen to him, Rosebud. You’re the one with the power now, not him. This is your dream.”

He moved through the plastic lining the door with a sigh at the sight of so much death and violence before him. “It’s his dream, for your world.”

The Corinthian sneered at him for a split second before smiling at Rose. “Then let’s make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas!”

The dreams of her brother and the other humans vanished and Rose’s eyes went wide with fear. “Where’s Jed?”

“Jed’s fine. He’s upstairs, asleep, he’s right next to you. This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now!”

“The Dreaming is yours? Is that what he told you?” Dream demanded coldly as he watched his nightmare struggle to keep his composure.

Rose looked up at him, sorrow and confusion shining in her eyes. “He told me you were gonna kill me.”

Dream nodded a little. “Did he tell you why? When a vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself, and take the waking world with it. Your world. Everything and everyone will die.”

The Corinthian bent down to Rose’s ear. “Don’t believe him, Rosie.”

“It’s happened before. I failed in my duty, an entire universe was lost.”

Steel singing in the air echoed around them as The Corinthian pointed a knife at him. “He can’t kill you if you kill him first.”

“Killing me may save your life, but it won’t save the lives of those you love.”

“I’m tryin to keep you alive here!” The nightmare growled, the playful mask he bore slipping at last.

“I’m trying to keep your world alive,” Dream argued.”

“Enough!” Her voice echoed in the vast space as Dreams' eyes looked up, there in the distant darkness he could see Penelope… A dream of her? No. A vision.

She’d been thrown to the ground, her surroundings unknown to him as a clawed hand of darkness grabbed her head and held her down, squeezing enough to puncture her cheek. Dream took a half step forward when her eyes met his, wild and desperate… afraid. Penelope! Her eyes filled with tears, the fire in them raging as her hand found a dagger. She shoved up, stabbing deep into the arm of whatever creature lurked.

Rose’s power radiated through the room, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of his lady as she was dragged back into the shadows and out of his sight. A scream and a wild shriek filling the air. “If I’m as powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way. In the meantime the walls go back up. Because I am not dreaming anymore. Thanks to you two I’m wide awake.”

His heart thundered in his chest as he watched the walls further separate him from going to Penelope. And just like that the dream faded, The Corinthian filling his view as he lifted his hand and examined the healing wound. His nightmare took off the dark shades that shielded the rows of teeth from view. “If you think I’m going back to The Dreaming with you-”

“You’re not going back.” His voice was low, nearly hoarse with the emotion that raged in him. Penelope was somewhere fighting for her life and he could not save her and The Corinthian… his masterpiece needed to be unmade and he needed to be the one to do it. “I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”

“Do you know why I do it? So I can taste what it’s like to be human.” The Corinthian scoffed at him. “You don’t care about humanity, none of them, not even her. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules.”

“I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.”

“Or you might actually feel something.” His nightmare smiled, sad and angry. “I am not the problem Dream.”

There it was. The answer to the question he’d been asking for so long. Why did his dreams and nightmares feel so distant from him? Why did they prefer Penelope, someone they’d only just barely been introduced to when he had been beside them for eons? It was far more simple than he’d thought possible. He pushed them away, shoved them into strict rules that shackled their growth and thus their ability to view him in any light other than a captor. “You are right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you, but I created you poorly then. So I must uncreate you now.”

The sand swirled, glowing red as it ate away at his masterpiece. “I am only sorry I won’t be here to watch you lose everything… to see Rose Walker do the same to you.”

Dream knelt before the pile of sand and plucked the small skull up and a sad smile. “Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty, little dream.”

He turned to the crowd of his creations flawed inspiration and shook his head. “And you… who call yourselves collectors, until now you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims comforting daydreams in which you are always right. But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgment upon you, that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered. And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time.”

They all rose from their seats and walked, dazed out of the room. Dreams eyes settled onto the spot Penelope had once stood, his heart sinking lower and lower every second she did not reappear before him. My love… Where are you? Please… Tears filled his eyes as the minutes passed with no sign of her. Penelope.

***

Darkness surrounded me, the wound on my shoulder burning now in the rancid air as I stumbled into the altar and shakily set the book in place. I flipped through the pages, eyes scanning and desperate to find Lyria’s handprint. Come on. Come on!

A dark chuckle echoed around me, pain ripping through my shoulder and tearing a scream from my throat. “Why do you still fight against the dark, little Weaver?”

Before I could even move out of the way the demon had grabbed me and thrown me to the ground. My head cracked against the stone as I pushed myself back, hands fumbling in the dark for my lost daggers. The glowing red of the demon's eyes was all I could see in the darkness in front of me as it shifted and moved without a sound. Its long talons flashed for a second before its whole hand curled around my head and squeezed the sharp points into my skin. I groaned, still trying to move as my eyes lifted and a hazy vision of Dream and Rose and The Corinthian flashed in the distance. Dream... I thought softly, my hand shifting toward him and bumping into the sharp sting of Destruction sheathed in steel.

I wrapped my hand around it, taking one last look at Dream's eyes before forcing my body up and stabbing the blade deep into the demon's arm. It shrieked loudly, its hand tightening around my head as it flung me through the air and sent me crashing into the altar. This time my whole body burned with pain, every wound I sustained in my fight with The Bull and with the demon before, as the adrenaline began to fade and everything else started to settle in. I coughed up blood as I turned and reached for the book, weakly flipping the pages until my heart sank at the sight of a torn page. “No.”

“Did you really think I’d leave the one page that could rebind me?” Mephistopheles asked with a loud, smug laugh. “Don’t you see now? You cannot trap me.”

“If I can’t trap you then I’ll just have to kill you.” I wheezed as I took my blade in hand and stabbed the book as hard as I could, the steel piercing the thick leather. A soft, dark light began to seep out from the book. It wasn’t enough. I needed more.

Mephistopheles growled in the darkness. “Your little blade isn’t strong enough to kill me. NOTHING IS STRONG ENOUGH TO KILL ME!” Claws sliced clean through my side, pulling me and the book back to the ground as the red eyes loomed over me and a twisted grin of darkness and thorns smiled down at me. “I’ll give the Endless your regards, Penelope.”

No. The world of threads offered little help, as all the threads save the gold were covered in darkness. My eyes fixed on the molten gold as it swirled brighter than ever, gold drops pulling towards me like fireflies in the dark. Forsake that which you fear. For the path through flames of molten gold is that which holds your freedom. The Fates voices echoed in my ears as Mephistopheles’ claws tore through my stomach. FUCK! My hand shot out and wrapped around the golden thread. Fire, bright golden swirls of fire wound around my arm and sunk into my skin, burning hotter than anything I’d ever felt. A scream tore through my throat as the gold curled up my shoulder as I lifted the dagger again and stabbed the blade the rest of the way into the book. Golden light illuminated Mephistopheles’ face and he tore away from me, attempting to shield himself from the light.

“NO! NO!” He roared as the light burnt away at the shadowed body. It lunged for me one last time, a mad move made by a dying demon. I ripped the dagger from the book just in time to lift it in front of me and watch it slice clean through its neck. The head of the demon fell to the stone and the book blazed in a puff of golden fire, blackening until the soul within it was consumed. The dagger clattered to the ground as I turned to look at the golden thread, unable to pull my hand from it. Power burning and bright and nothing like any power I’d felt before surged through me. I pulled against it harder, tears streaming down my cheeks as the power grew too great, too painful for me to stand any longer. The gold filled my vision as my body weakened to the point where I couldn’t move anymore. Blood oozed from my wounds, pooling beneath my back as a vision played in the glowing thread.

A tall figure clothed in black and stardust moved across a stone bridge. Dream. He walked through the town with his head held high as everyone he passed smiled and bid him a fond good afternoon. He looked happy. Dream followed the familiar path to Cain and Abel’s houses and shook his head with a chuckle as he crossed the bridge. “I thought I told you not to stray far, yet here you are wreaking havoc on Cain and Abel’s garden.”

A little girl was perched upside down half hanging from Pierre’s statue, her long raven hair blowing in the breeze as she flipped around and leapt into Dreams' waiting arms. Cain bowed his head to Morpheus. “It’s no trouble, my lord. She can be quite helpful when she wants to be.”

“Yes, when she’s not too occupied with vanishing!” He shook his head as the girl pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “You’re just like your mother.”

“Mommy’s good at disappearing!” The child sang. “She can do it SO FAST!”

Dream laughed, a laugh so full of joy I’d never heard it before. “Yes, she is. Speaking of her, we should get back to the palace. She’s going to be back today.”

The girl looked up into his eyes, stars shining in hers. “Do you think Uncle Destiny and Aunt Lyria will give her a gift to bring me?!”

“Don’t they always?” He asked as she jumped from his arms and hugged Cain, then Abel and then the much larger Goldie.

She grabbed Dream's hand and tugged him along across the bridge. “Come on then Daddy!”

They moved back through the village, the sight of the mighty Dream Lord being dragged through the town by the smaller girl didn’t seem to surprise anyone. Just as they reached the bridge a woman stood on the opposite end, looking out at the setting sun. The little girl let go of Dreams hand and booked it toward her, only giving her enough time to turn before nearly tackling her to the ground. “Mommy!”

Laughter echoed as Dream moved closer, revealing my face buried in the girl's hair. “Ophelia!”

“Did you bring me a gift?” the little girl demanded, squeezing my cheeks.

“Of course,” I replied, laughing. “It’s in the library with Lucienne and Matthew.”

The child, Ophelia, leapt to the ground and ran inside as fast as her little legs could carry her. Dream pulled me into his arms and pressed a kiss to my lips. “How is my brother and his wife?”

I shrugged. “They’re doing well.”

“Did he answer your question?”

“He did.”

Dream looked down at me, an expression of anticipation and hopefulness filling his usually stoic face. “Do you intend to keep me in suspense my lady?”

My smile grew wider as I nodded. “He confirmed our suspicions.”

Now, Dream was beaming, bright as a star as he enveloped me in a tight hug, lifting me off the ground a bit. “This is wonderful news! Did he tell you which it would be?”

Once he set me back down I cupped his face with a wide smile. “A boy.”

“A boy,” he breathed, hands resting on my stomach. “I assume you already have a name in mind?”

I smiled, the eyes of my future self looking over his shoulder and into my own. “Omiros.”

“Omiros.” I could hear the smile in his voice as more tears streamed down my cheeks. “A strong name. Though I have to wonder where you, my love, came up with such a name.”

My eyes turned away from me and looked up at him with happy tears. “I heard it a long time ago.”

His head tilted to the side as he stroked my cheek. “From where?”

“A dream,” I answered.

“You said that last time,” he noted, suspicious.“Well maybe you should believe me then.”

“My son. Omiros,” Dream said again, softer, almost like a prayer as his thumb rubbed against my stomach.

The gold thread faded before my eyes, taking the vision with it, and my hand fell limp onto the stone floor. Every breath I took was painful and slow as I felt the life slowly drain from me. The darkness and decay of the realm remained as the creatures gathered around me, drawn to the starlight that had been glowing from my head. A green butterfly flew past my eyes and settled on the bloody skin above my heart. The light moved, flickering out for a moment before glowing even brighter beneath the butterfly. The creatures made a noise, soft and desperate. "You would be stripped of your light and left to darkness should you try."

The light, the blessing, would set these people free. I didn’t know how I knew, but something inside me just did… It was the only way to set all this right. I lifted my hand, despite the pain the movement sent through me, and touched my heart. The butterfly settled over my palm as I pulled the light from my chest, holding its steady warm glow tightly. Every breath I took was painful and slow as I felt the life slowly drain from me.

"Goodbye, Morpheus," I whispered, letting the light slip from my fingers and up toward the sky. Silver spirits of the creatures trapped in the darkness followed the light up into the sky, tearing through the darkness and leaving me one last fading view of the night sky before darkness overtook me.

***

Destiny stared out into the night sky as he held Lyrias hand in his, absentmindedly stroking his thumb along her skin. He could feel her heart beating again, after all these long years, she was home. All of it was thanks to Penelope. She’d offered him help, even knowing that the likelihood of her demise was great. He looked down at the shimmering gold of Lyrias cheeks and smiled, pressing a kiss to them as he stood.

“Father,” he said out into the sky. “I have never asked for anything… You know I would never ask unless it was of great importance. Just this once, I ask for your favor.”

Beside him Time stood, hands clasped in front of him. “I cannot guarantee she will live. First she must pass her final test, and then her fate will be decided.”

Destiny nodded. “It is a chance, one I can only hope she will be strong enough to make good use of.”

“We shall soon see.”

***

The darkness that cocooned me was neither too hot nor too cold, neither wet nor dry, it simply was. I felt weightless as voices swirled around me, one soft but cold. A hand shook my shoulder, soft and warm and familiar. “Penelope, it’s time to wake up darling.”

“Mother?” I whispered as my eyes opened to her kindly face looking down at me with a soft smile. She pushed my hair out of my face. “Am I dead?”

Her face twisted as she gasped at the question. “Heavens no! Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because this…” I stopped myself, eyes roaming over the modest bedroom that had so very long ago been my own. “This isn’t real.”

Mother laughed softly. “You and that imagination of yours. Now, get up. We have a long day of lessons ahead of us.”

I sat on my bed, my eyes darting wildly around the room and my breaths heavy and sharp. What the fuck is going on? I thought as I pulled the covers off me and practically ran to the mirror. I looked like I had then, youthful. The wounds I’d gained while fighting The Bull and Lyria and the demon were gone. I turned my wrist over, running my fingers along the smooth unscarred skin. It was all gone… No, it just hadn’t happened yet. I sank to the floor, tucking my knees to my chest and letting out quiet, scared sobs. Was this real? And if it was… what was I meant to do?

A voice, warm and loud, echoed through the room. “You must choose what was or what could have been, Fate Weaver.”

“I don’t understand,” I whispered, but the voice didn’t come again. Okay, I told myself, wiping the tears from my eyes. This is just another test. I just needed to figure out where I was and what this choice was. After I got dressed for the weird day that was no doubt ahead of me I looked around my room, if there was anything here to tell me what was going on it would certainly make this easier. I pulled a box out from under my bed and opened it up to reveal a simple fine dress, one I recognized almost immediately.

This was the day I snuck out and attended the party at the Burgess house for Alex. The day I met Morpheus. The day that changed everything. Choose what was or what could have been? Whoever it was that set up this weird trip to the past wanted me to either make the same choices I had, the ones that led me to where I ended up or to choose differently? I practically scoffed. Why would I change what happened? I had already lived through it. Unless… whatever being was doing this expected me to live through it all over again.

The pained memories of the asylum filled my mind as I set my head in my hands. What would change if I tried to do things differently? Morpheus. I looked down at my arm where the mark had been and sadly ran a thumb over the smooth skin. If I change things… It would change our relationship, change what we meant to each other… what we still mean to each other. I kept going over it in my mind as the day dragged on. My father, the man I’d killed with my bare teeth, sat across from me at the table as we ate. I’d forgotten how miserable I was. Forgotten how absolutely horrible life had been living in the Barlow house.

Sure, I was fed and had plenty of time to myself, but it was lonely. There was no Matthew to swoop down and chatter in my ear. No Lucienne to offer up a book recommendation or talk to me for hours about the knowledge she held. No Mervyn calling me kid and offering to show me how to do various jobs. There was no Cain and Abel and Goldie with their garden and their bickering. No town full of loving nightmares and dreams. There was no Dreaming, no home… No Morpheus.

For a while I wandered the Barlow estate grounds, deep in thought, but no matter how long I thought about it my answer stayed the same. I would follow the events of the day as they had happened, even if it meant I would have to live the years that followed in the same torment that I had before. I looked at myself in the mirror as night finally came and smoothed a hand over the dress that would soon be ruined, before climbing out the window and making my way toward the Burgess house and the crowd that gathered there.

I walked as if I was in a daze, moving through the crowd until Alex's young and familiar face smiled down at me. "Penelope! It's about time you showed up! I thought you'd abandoned me to be eaten by these people!"

“Alex…” I hadn’t seen him in eighty years. Even after all the pain he’d caused me, I couldn’t help but feel happy when he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me inside. For a split second I’d forgotten that this wasn’t real, that this was all some kind of memory or, or, something.

I looked up at the house, residual fear and anxiety building in me as Alex led the way. Hand on my shoulder he looked over me with worried eyes. “Are you alright? You seem quiet.”

“I’m fine,” I answered. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Well, relax, Pen. Tonight is supposed to be fun.” His family butler scolded him quietly and he nudged my shoulder. “Go have fun for a bit, my father has me holding the door to keep the uninvited out. Something about responsibility.”

I took one last look at his face, one last look at him while he was still my friend. “You are rather irresponsible.”

“Says you,” he retorted with a laugh and a nudge to my shoulder.

“Don’t be too long… responsible Alex, or I’ll be the one that becomes the meal.” Goodbye, my friend. I thought as I watched him walk out the door. Hopefully once I got to Dream this whole thing would end, but if not… Alex wouldn’t be like this again.

I instinctually moved toward the least crowded part of the room, my eyes drawing to the door with the guards standing in front of it. Now that I knew what secrets it held the curiosity was gone, replaced by a cool and pulsing rage. He was down there. Alone. Naked. Locked away in some goddamn fish bowl for what? Roderick Burgess’ pride? I had to close my eyes and remind myself that this wasn’t real. Dream was free. He was safe. Just like before I watched the people dance, drink and come close to overdosing on every drug imaginable at the time. All just one large facade. The rich man fell to the ground, convulsing just as he had before and I turned toward the basement door. Everything and everyone froze as the voice from this morning echoed around me again. “Choose.”

For a moment I looked around at the party, studying the faces of the upper class crowd. They were miserable, all of them, I had known it then and I knew it now. I turned back to the door and descended the dark stairs, into the basement that would soon fill with beatings and blood, but the second my eyes met his in his glass cage my heart soared. Whoever organized this, whatever they wanted of me, had wasted their time. There was no world where I wouldn’t choose him.

The basement was just as I remembered it, damp and dark, reeking and poorly lit. The glowing glass sphere hung in the center of the large space and my legs nearly buckled at the sight of it. Morpheus sat up, dark, star filled eyes watching me as I moved closer and closer to him. He watched me with a stoic expression, but his eyes betrayed what he felt, as they always did.

“Don’t worry. There's nothing they could do to make me choose differently.” I said as I stood face to face with him, tears running down my face as I pressed my hand to the glass without hesitation. “I’ll always choose you, Dream.”

He said nothing as he mirrored the gesture. Just like the first time pain exploded across my palm, but this time when the images and voices filled my head I knew them. The memories of Dream and I played in my head, every tiny gleam in his eyes, every stupid game I played with him, our goodbye and then our reunion, Matthew and Lucienne and Mervyn and Cain and Abel, home. They were here, all along from the beginning they were here. The glass shattered beneath our hands as Dream’s voice silenced all the others. “I thought you’d left.”

I smiled as the glass turned into sand. “I would never leave you, my Dream. You’re my home.”

The memory or illusion of Dream stepped out of the metal frame and stood in front of me, lifting his hand and blowing sand into my eyes. Everything faded away until I stood staring at an empty expanse of darkness. Two figures stood before me, neither looking my way but at each other.

"It has been a long time since we have shared a plane,” the soft, cold feminane voice said.

The other replied, rough but warm. "Yes. I have missed you."

The soft voice belonged to a woman, tall and thin, beautiful beyond belief. She wore a gown of glowing light and her long hair was black with stairs swirling inside it. Night. I told myself. This was Dream and the other Endless’ mother. “I am here now.”

The loud voice belonged to a man, old with vibrant red hair and a long beard filled with gray strands and features that reminded me of De and Olethros. He shook his head. “Only because you felt drawn here. You did not come for me.”

“No, but I am here nonetheless.” Her eyes, two glowing stars, turned to me. “Your light is gone, little star. It was a mistake of you to give it away for even I cannot return it to you.

The old man changed before my eyes, into a small boy. “To give away such a blessing is quite the feat alone, especially for a mortal born. But, more interesting, perhaps, is your choice.”

“I just did what I thought was right.” I answered him.

“Right?” he questioned, now older but not old. “Was it out of obligation or love I wonder? Mortals seem to be quite fickle in their feelings.”

This must be their father, I told myself. Dream had spoken little of his parents and from what I could gather from Desire there was a good reason for it. As I watched them coldly argue with one another over what my fate was to be all I could think of was how unhappy and bitter they both sounded. Night was cold and emotionless as she spoke. “Does it matter why she chose this path?”

The man turned to her, the young boy once again. “It does to me, as it should to you.”

“She may have foolishly given away my blessing, but the fact remains she passed your test, Time. Do you not wish for our son to be happy?"

“My blessing is a rare and powerful thing. I will not give it to someone unworthy of it.”

They fought again for what seemed like hours. Listening to them certainly made their children's messy histories make more sense. For a while I considered trying to leave, find my own way, but there was literally nothing but abyss around us so I quickly decided against it. Then my thoughts shifted to whether or not I'd have to choose a side between them, should this argument turn into an actual fight.

As I looked between the two it was difficult to figure out who I found more intimidating. Time was loud and even in his old appearance he looked like he could hold his own in a fight. Night, while delicate in appearance, held a very cold and calculating look in her eyes that made me question just how soft she truly was. Truthfully I hated both options. Maybe I could take them both? I thought, touching my thighs. Right no daggers. They both looked at me curiously.

"Do you honestly think you could fight us both?" Night asked.

"Two Endless beings of greater power than you could ever know?" Time added.

I shrugged. "I don't know! It's not like I have a lot of options. And also it's quite rude to drag me here, test me, argue in front of me, then read my mind and judge me on trying to figure out how to fight you two if need be. Mind your own business, which it seems you two have plenty of!"

"Who would you choose of the two of us?" Time asked, sending Night a glare. "I am far more powerful."

Night merely rolled her eyes. "You always were so self important. The mortal would obviously pick me, for she has been given my blessing before."

"Another reason as to why she would choose me. For it is my blessing she needs now."

"ENOUGH! God I see why your kids are so fucked up! You two are, no offense, truly fucking terrible.” I looked at Night. “I thank you for giving me your blessing. I’m sorry I gave it away, but I’d do it over again if it meant saving those people.” I turned to Time, now an old man. “Give me your blessing or don’t. I don’t care. I’m going home with or without it.”

He tilted his head a little. “You think yourself capable of navigating the endless darkness?”

I shrugged again, frustrated and exhausted. “I don’t know, but I don’t care. I’m going home. If it takes me days or years I don’t care. If I fucking die here trying to find my way back… I. Don’t. Care. I have to try at least, I owe them all that much.”

“You are a curious human, Penelope Barlow.” Time said, stepping towards me and holding out his hand. “My son has asked me to save you.”

“Dream?”

“No, I’ve not spoken to Dream in eons. It was Destiny.” He changed again into a younger man. “He’s asked nothing of me since the creation of this world. Yet he asks for a favor now, for you… a mortal.”

I smiled at the thought. “He didn’t have to do that.”

Time nodded. “No, he did not, but he did. You hold much influence over my children and are regarded highly among them, for all would have asked this of me."

"You sound confused by that."

"I am. You are nothing but a mortal." Time insisted. "Your soul being bound to Dream means little in regards to my other children. And yet they would all come to me on your behalf."

"Maybe it would be easier to understand if you actually spent any time with them." I bit out. "Both of you."

Time didn't respond to the jab. "You passed the final test I had laid before you, The Fates were right in their assumptions. But, know that it is only for Destiny that I grant you my blessing.” I could see Night scoff as he held his hand out to me, old once again. Once my hand met his wrinkled skin, golden light filled the darkness.

My eyes drifted shut as the bright light grew hotter and filled the dark abyss, and when I opened them again I was back at the hotel, laying in the center of the aisle, chairs on either side of me. Some of my wounds had healed, the ones that would have killed me, but the others were still fresh and bleeding. My hand was blackened from the flames and burnt marks curled up my arm, remnants from the golden thread and there, laying at my side was the head of Mephistopheles and the burnt book that once bound him.

***

"Did you find her?" Matthew asked as soon as he landed at Dreams feet.

Dreams' eyes scanned the crowd for a moment. "No, but she's still here, I can feel it. We'll check inside."

He turned just as she hobbled out of the hotel doors. She froze at the sight of him, her tear stained face looked pale and sickly. The blood and wounds that covered her all over didn't help ease his conscience, but it was her hand that he focused on. Penelope cradled the right one to her chest, holding a black book, the dark lines of burnt flesh in the shape of rope, no, threads. She'd had to touch the burning thread, had to twist it around her arm to free herself of whatever torment his callousness had doomed her to.

For a moment they both just stood there, looking at one another, not willing or able to move first. He took a half step forward, and her eyes filled with tears, lips quivering as she closed the distance between them, crushing herself into his chest. He felt lighter, like he could finally breathe again as he hesitantly hugged her to him. Through her sobs she pleaded, "Can we go home? Please?"

Home. The word was bittersweet. It meant that she still considered The Dreaming her home, but also meant that even with what he'd said to her and denied her, she still trusted him. "Yes."

Her body relaxed as the chilled air of The Dreaming wrapped around them, but neither of them moved. Dream was afraid of what would happen after he let go of her. She had to be angry with him and after searching for her for so long… After seeing Desire's hands on her… Dream knew they had much to discuss. Matthew cawed. "I hate to ruin the moment but… Is that a head?"

She pulled back, lifting her left hand and the severed head she gripped in it. "Right. I'm gonna have to take this shit to Destiny tomorrow."

"What the fuck have you been up to the past few days?!"

"It's a long story," she admitted with a wince as she waved her hand, easily creating a box and tossing the head and book inside. Whatever she had done to gain the upper hand over the demon had unlocked her connection to his power fully now.

Dreams' eyes slid down to her deep wounds as blood dripped to the floor. "You need attended to."

She nodded, dazed and stumbled to the side. "Yeah, uh, I'm about to pass out. The… The blood loss is really starting to, uh, kick in so if you could… Catch me or something, I'd appreciate it."

Just as she predicted her eyes rolled into the back of her skull and she began to drop to the ground. Dream caught her, holding her to him tightly. "Matthew, tell Lucienne that Penelope is back, and send her to my quarters."

"You got it boss," the raven said. Hearing his casual tone made Dream feel better. Perhaps now that she was back things could return to normal. He set her on the bed, carefully discarding her clothing and looking down at the deep wounds and still retreating black veins. No. Things would never go back to normal, at least not the normal he was accustomed to.

He worked tirelessly, sewing and wrapping her wounds with what magic and skill he had until he finished. He pulled fresh blankets over her and sat on the edge of the bed, holding her injured hand tentatively in his. Dream watched the black veins and discoloration fade from her skin. His hands helped cool the sweltering heat of her body and once the color had begun to return to her skin he let himself feel the relief of having her home.

It may not last. She could still wake up and decide to leave, but for now he was content. Penelope was home, here in their bed, and most importantly she was alive. Lucienne knocked at the door, entering quietly and clutching her hand to her chest at the sight of her friend. "My lord! What's happened to her?"

"I do not know," he admitted. "After she and the demon vanished I only saw a glimpse of whatever she faced. When she awakens, I'm certain she will fill you in on the details. The items she came with, where are they?"

"In the library, sir. I thought it best to keep a close eye on them, just to be certain they are truly dormant."

He nodded. "A wise course of action."

Lucienne stroked Penelope's hair and looked up at him. "Do you need anything, my lord?"

"I must finish this business with the vortex." His voice was soft and sad, unable to pretend any longer that the task at hand meant nothing to him. Rose Walker had proven herself to be brave and kind hearted and strong. She reminded him of Penelope when he'd first met her in the damp dark of the Burgess basement. And that only made his duty more difficult.

Lucienne nodded. "I'll stay with her."

"No," he said softly. "Return to the library and watch the artifacts she brought. Matthew can watch over her, that way I will be able to see her through him."

"Very well, my lord." She smiled down at Penelope and sighed softly, relieved. "I am glad she's home."

"As am I." He stroked her skin one last time before standing. Now he could only hope she wanted to stay.

***

When I opened my eyes I was back at Destiny's garden, everything had been repaired and put back just as it was supposed to be. Destiny stood beside the table, carefully setting it as the sun began to rise. "You are early. Or perhaps you are on time."

I smiled, laughing a little. "Were you expecting me?"

"No," he answered, turning around to face me. "But I was hoping you would come back."

"I have you to thank for that," I said, moving closer and wrapping him in a soft, weak hug. "Your parents are assholes, by the way, your dad especially."

His hand gently pressed against my back, his famous and comforting one armed hug. "I am simply glad you are here, Weaver."

"Me too." I mumbled. "How is Lyria?"

"She is resting," he said, turning to finish setting the table. "But she will recover quickly, thanks to you."

"Good." I sat down in my chair and sighed in relief as the pain subsided a little. "How are you?"

Destiny smiled. "I am better than I have been."

"Wow, a real answer?" I teased. "You sure she didn't hit your head too hard?"

He sat down across from me and shook his head fondly. "Did you retrieve the book?"

I nodded. "And the bastard's head."

"Both must be taken to Hell and returned to The Morningstar."

"You think Lucifer is involved in this?" I asked.

Destiny didn’t respond for a moment. “No, but Mephistopheles was a Duke of Hell and what remains of him should be returned to his master.”

There was more, I could feel it. “What else?”

“While you’re there I would ask you to retrieve some things of Lyrias from Lightbringer.” He looked at me, but this time there was a thinly concealed rage in them that I’d never seen before. “The demon stole them and took them to Hell in order to keep them from me. His remains should be enough to trade for them.”

"Alright, how do you want me to facilitate such a trade?" I asked. "The devil and I don't exactly have the best relationship."

Destiny gestured to a small letter beneath my cup. "I've written out what to say. Hopefully it keeps you out of trouble."

I opened the letter and read through the finely written, far too modest request.

Lucifer, Ruler of Hell, I come to you with a proposition from Destiny of the Endless. I will offer you the effects of the slain demon Mephistopheles in return for the previous Fate Weavers artifacts, as well as safe passage through Hell and an undelayed departure. Do this and Destiny promises there will be no need for war between Hell and the Endless.

“Sounds simple enough," I said, moving to stand. A bit too simple.

His hand reached across the table and settled over mine. "Weaver, I simply wish for you to get Lyria's artifacts back, though I know there are some questions of your own need answered. So, I hope you shall heed my advice when I ask you to remember the ruler of Hell can be rather pedantic. Tread this path cautiously."

"Aren't I always cautious?" I joked.

"You will be going as my emissary." He gestured to the broach on the table. It was shimmering gold with an intricately carved depiction of his garden. "My sigil will mark you as my Fate Weaver and grant you entrance into Hell. They will likely be expecting you."

"Expecting me?"

"Word of Mephistopheles death will have reached them by now, along with the nature of that death.

I sighed, wincing at the pain that motion caused. "So I'm gonna be walking into a bloodbath?"

"No, so long as you do not stray from the path or your purpose."

"I'll be safe, Des."

"Of this I have no doubt, Weaver."

***

Back in Dreams bedroom I forced myself to get dressed just as Matthew flew through the window with a relieved sigh. “You fucking asshole!”

“Whoa, chill out there Smokey,” I said looking down at him as he perched on the bed. “Why are you so mad at me?”

“You disappeared!” He yelled with a caw. “They told me to watch over you til you woke up and you just poof, gone! I was worried! I thought for sure you’d gotten trapped or some shit!”

I winced as I sat down beside him. “Sorry Matthew. I didn’t mean to… poof. Destiny and I just needed to have a quick chat.”

He ruffled his wings at me. “Well, warn a bird next time.”

“I will,” I said, smoothing over his feathers. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Penny. For a while last night we thought we lost you for good.”

Looking around at the room, cast in rainbow light I chuckled a little. “You might have, for a little bit at least.”

“So, what did Destiny want?”

“I gotta take that shit I brought last night to Hell.”

“You’re going back to Hell?!” He cawed again. “Like willingly?”

Looking down at him with a smile I shrugged. “Looks that way.”

“God, you’re weird.” He said. “Come on, Merv and Lucienne are freaking out looking for you.”

“Did you tell them before you told Dream?”

He flew onto my shoulder. “Of course! I sure as hell wasn’t gonna tell the boss I lost you again!”

We walked through the halls for a while before Merv came around a corner and nearly slammed into me. His pumpkin features relaxed slightly as he pulled me into a hug. “Thank fuck! I thought you left us, kid!”

I smiled into his thin shoulder, inhaling the smell of pumpkin and tools. “I’d never abandon you guys.”

He steadied me as we walked the rest of the way toward the library where Lucienne paced back and forth as a dream stood off to the side of her. “He’s not going to be happy when he comes back and finds her gone again. Are you certain you checked everywhere?”

“She is nowhere outside the palace. We would have noticed her.”

“I do tend to stand out,” I said, hobbling forward towards them.

Lucienne let out a breath and ran to my side. “My lady!” Her arms wound around me, pulling me into her embrace. “You must stop scaring us like this.”

“I’m sorry, Lucienne.” I said. “Had a meeting to get to.”

She pulled away and helped Merv get me settled in a chair at the table. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m alright,” I insisted.

“My lady, you are badly injured,” she said, examining the deep wound on my neck. “You need to return to bed and rest.”

“No can do, Lucienne. I’ve got a job to do. Speaking of, where's the things I brought back?”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to the book and the… head?” She said moving around the corner to bring the box of the artifacts out. “I’ve been keeping an eye on them.”

“Thanks,” I said, examining the box carefully as the feeling I’d tried to ignore since getting back began to bubble to the surface. “Where… Is Dream busy?”

Lucienne gave me a gentle look. “I just returned from helping him deal with the vortex.”

Shit. I tried to stand. “Is he okay? Did he…”

She set a hand on my shoulder, urging me to stay sitting. “He’s alright, my lady. As is Rose Walker.”

“How? I thought there was no other way.”

“Normally there isn’t,” she said. “But, this whole situation appears to have been manipulated by Lord Morpheus’ sibling.”

“Desire.”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Lord Morpheus is speaking with them currently.”

“Can’t say I’m too surprised.” The memories of them, their cruel game, filled my mind. “Is he… Did he seem angry?”

Lucienne looked confused for a moment. “He did. Desire’s game would have put the entire Dreaming at risk.”

I sighed. “And did he seem angry after I passed out?”

“No,” she said. “He was worried for you, my lady. All night he remained by your side, tending your wounds and ensuring that you were healing.”

“Thank you, Lucienne.” I said to her, standing to look over the artifacts in the box. “I need to get ready to go to Hell.”

Lucienne’s face immediately twisted into sharp concern. “My lady, that is most unwise! You are still injured!”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I still have to do this.”

“Surely it can wait,” she insisted.

“The longer I put it off the worse it’ll look to Lucifer. I killed one of their Dukes, they know that I did. Besides, I’d like to get this over with, and get a few answers.”

She seemed to understand as she looked down at my clothes. “Well, if you intend to travel to Hell, you may want to change into more appropriate attire.”

I laughed, nodding. “True.”

For the first time since the hotel I felt the surge of power that normally would have been Dream, but it was different. It wasn’t as strong as his, not by a long shot, but it was more than I’d felt before. I lifted my hands and ran them down the length of my body, watching as my clothes changed into light and breathable but strong material. The long sleeves were dark lines of multicolored thread glistened when I moved. The chest piece was golden armor with a half cloak of starlight pinned with Destiny's brooch. My daggers were secured to either side of my belt that snuggly accentuated my waist where the gown flared out and cascaded down my legs like a dark night sky.

Matthew let out a loud noise. “Damn Penny! That’s impressive!”

“You look amazing, my lady!”

“Kids got more talent with gowns than wood, that’s for sure,” Merv teased, bumping my shoulder.

“Hell appropriate?” I asked.

“Very much so.” She said as the doors to the library opened and the familiar light footsteps of Dream echoed through the library as he moved with haste.

Dream’s mouth opened, ready to call out to Lucienne no doubt, but he quickly shifted into a sigh as his eyes met mine and he swept towards us. Merv and the dream quietly excused themselves from the library, as Matthew and Lucienne moved to the corner. "There you are. You should be in bed."

"I have work to do," I answered, awkwardly fixing the fastenings of my newly made gown.

I could feel his eyes look me up and down, admiring either the gown or my figure beneath it. "And what work takes precedence over your health?"

Here we go. "I have to take these back to Hell."

I could feel that hum of his resistance roll through me. "No."

"Dream," I sighed. My side burned as I turned to look up at him. "You of all people can understand that this is important. It's my job, just as ruling over the collective unconscious of this world is yours. I have to do this and you have to let me."

"The Morningstar will be looking to ensnare you again." He warned. "Not only for your association to me, but because of your power and because you've killed one of their more powerful demons."

"I know." I touched the brooch. "Destiny has asked me to do this. As an emissary I should be free to come and go."

Dream still wasn't convinced. "Should be, but they will try to trick you or bend the rules."

"If worse comes to worse I'll just teleport out. They won't be able to hold me for long."

"I'm coming with you." He decided.

"No. If you set one foot in Hell they will either lock you up or kill you."

I was right and he knew it. "Take Matthew then."

With a sigh and a smile I shook my head. "Matthew hates Hell."

Dark and strong clouds took shape beside us as Storm bowed. "My lord, my lady. I wish to accompany you."

“I would gladly welcome your company, Storm,” I said, relieved that they were willing to join me. Having a friend at my back, especially one as intimidating as them would hopefully help calm my nerves and keep Lucifer from trying anything.

Dream acknowledged Storm with a polite nod and then looked at me one last time. It was obvious he didn't want me to go, but unlike all the times before he seemed softer as he agreed. "Be careful. You are still injured and they will see it as weakness."

"Thank you," I said, my hand brushing against his.

"I have one condition."

"Dream…"

He lifted his hands, a brilliant and gleaming circlet crown with a vibrant blue gem in the center of two butterflies sitting against his palms. "Wear this. That it may remind any that sees it of your status in our realm."

Without a word he set it on my head, wearing my hair around it and gently holding my face in his hands. "Thank you, Morpheus."

"Do not thank me for giving you what's rightfully yours." He pressed a kiss to my hand and squeezed it. "You will return once you've finished, won't you?"

"Of course I will." I answered. It was awkward between us, the things left unsaid and unacknowledged festing between us as we interacted with one another. "We have a lot to talk about."

Guilt and sorrow flared in his chest as he nodded. "We do, but later."

I smiled a bit and nodded. "Later."

"Yes," he replied fondly.

Lifting myself up on the tips of my toes I pressed a kiss to his cheek, hoping the simple act could convey my sincerity, and turned to Storm. "Ready?"

They bowed again. “I am beside you, my lady.”

I secured the head onto my belt and grabbed the book, sparing one last look at Dream as black sand swirled around Storm and I, engulfing us in it and then fading away to reveal the charred bodies that lined the gates of Hell.

“There’s one at the door,” a heavy breathy voice followed. “At the gate of damnation. Is thief, thug or whore?” At the end of the burnt hallway of mangled bodies behind the twisted gate I could make out the tall and burly figure of the demon as he stood, waiting. “There’s one at the door. And there’s room for one more till the end of creation.”

The gates of Hell were less grand than I’d imagined and clearly geared toward terrifying anyone stupid enough to find themselves here. I walked forward with my head held high, I would not meet the Devil as a scared sniveling girl again. “Hello, Demon. I’ve come to speak with the Morningstar.”

The demon chuckled. “And who are you?”

“I am the Fate Weaver and Lady of The Dreaming.”

“Do all queens have such small crowns? Or is it just you?”

Thunder clapped behind me, a cold wind swirling in the air. “You can either open the gate or I can tear it open. The choice is yours, but either way I’ll be seeing your master.”

A smaller figure, gleaming in silver, stepped to the side of the demon guarding the gate. “Move, Squaterbloat. They’re expecting this one.”

“Mazikeen,” I said softly, nodding at her as the gates opened. “Thank you.”

She bowed her head to me. “Apologies, my lady, for the rudeness of our gatekeeper.”

I gave the demon a side glance as I walked through, looking at the dimly lit sky raining with fire ash. “It’s fine, one doesn’t expect courtesy in Hell.”

The path ahead was lined with demons, each holding a blazing brazier, the smell of their burnt flesh wafting towards me as Mazikeen gestured forward. “Our ruler awaits you in the palace and has prepared all of Hell to entertain you during your stay.”

“I have no need for entertainment,” I answered, holding the book tightly in my hand.

“Our master insisted. They said you will be staying for quite some time.”

“I’ve come to return something of your sovergines, as well as receive answers.” As we passed each demon, thunder echoed behind me and dark clouds plumed at my back. I smiled at the theatrics of my companion. It appeared I would be entering Hell with wings of my own. "I won't be staying long."

Mazikeen led me the whole way to the palace, across the steep winding bridge and through the large stone gates back into the familiar dark stone of the devil's palace. She bowed to Lucifer, moving into the shadows of the room as I stepped up the stairs. Their great wings tucked into their back as they turned to me with a smile. Their eyes looked at the wings Storm had given me with a chuckle. “Quite the entrance you make, Lady of The Dreaming.”

“I figured Hell would be the appropriate place for such theatrics,” I said, bowing my head. “I assume you know why I’m here.”

“You’ve come to return something of mine, I hope.” They looked at the book and then the head that hung around my belt.

I set the book on the table between us, then I unbound the head and set it beside it. The words Destiny had prepared for me rolled off my tongue. “Lucifer, honorable Ruler of Hell, I come to you with a proposition from Destiny of the Endless. I offer you the effects of the slain demon Mephistopheles in return for the previous Fate Weavers artifacts.” Their eyes lit up as I spoke, delighted to hear such a formal message. “As well as safe passage through Hell and an undelayed departure. Do this and Destiny promises there will be no need for war between Hell and the Endless.”

They waved their hand, a box being brought out by another demon and set on the table. “We were prepared for such a trade. You do surprise me though, dear one. Not so long ago you were shaking and fearful in this very room. And now, you stand before me again, tall and steady.”

“I’ve been through a lot in the past few months,” I said. “A meeting with the devil isn’t exactly surprising anymore.”

“There’s something else you want,” they said confidently. “Ask it, and perhaps I will grant it to you.”

I took a deep breath. The questions I had weren’t ones Lucifer could answer. Only one person could answer them. “I want to speak with Nada.”

Their smile grew wider as they moved around the table to stand in front of me, eyes piercing my soul. “Nada? Now why would the Lady of The Dreaming wish to speak with one their king has condemned to Hell?”

“She can answer some of the questions I have.” I said plainly.

Lucifer tilted their head to the side and thought for a moment. “Why should I let you speak to her?”

“Me asking is a courtesy,” I answered. “We both know I could just teleport to her if I wanted to. But, I wish to respect your authority in your realm, so please, allow me to speak with her and then I will leave.”

They chuckled. “Another question, why should I let you go? You are Dreams beloved and he would surely come to save you, should you be trapped. It would be quite a brilliant lure.”

“It would. But, it would also bring Destiny to retrieve me, and with him Death and Delirium.” Fire burned in their eyes. “I am a Fate Weaver and the Endless have made it known that they respect my position enough to defend me if need be. Is war what you seek?”

“It would make God quite angry with me.” They smiled, but their fire in their eyes faltered.

“It wouldn’t last long enough for him to notice. The Endless united would destroy you.” My words swam in their eyes as they regarded me with a look I’d almost consider admiration.

Lucifer stood up straight and gestured toward the windows of their palace. “You are free to seek out Nada, Lady of The Dreaming, I’ll allow you a short amount of time and then you will leave. Should you refuse to go, you will remain here.”

I bowed my head again, retrieving the box from the table. “Thank you, your majesty.”

With Storm at my back one of the demons had escorted me to the tall winding tower and up the steps to the thorned gates of the cell that housed the woman Dream had once loved. She was beautiful, even in the distressed state that Hell had driven her to. Her skin glistened in the dull firelight as she turned, shimmering brown eyes wide and hopeful. “Kai'ckul?”

Our eyes locked and a wave of confusion washed over her before understanding sparked. “Hello, Nada. Forgive me, if my presence has brought you more distress. I just wanted to speak with you.”

“He spoke true then?” She said quietly. “He has found another… His queen.”

I shook my head. “I’m not a queen. I’m just… Just me.”

Nada stood, moving to meet me at the gate, her hands curling around the thorns. “Yet a crown he's given you, small but more significant than you could ever realize. What is it you seek?”

“I…” Maybe this was a mistake. What would my questions accomplish? “I just wanted to know what he was like, when you knew him.”

“He was magnificent,” she said, eyes drifting off into the distance, some part of her finding a moment of release in the memories. “Beautiful and powerful… Being loved by him was consuming. Kai'ckul loves deeply and holds onto that which he loves with a grip like chains. We were never meant to be eternal, but I knew it was what he wished of me, and perhaps before the destruction of my home… perhaps things could have been different.”

She was kind, such a beautiful soul. “I am sorry about what happened to your people, and to you.” I looked around at the small space that was her prison. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

Nadas' eyes returned to mine. “You cannot free me.”

“No,” I answered solemnly. “But I will try to convince him to return for your freedom.”

“Kai'ckul will not listen to you,” she said. “He listens to none but himself, for he is a proud king above all. I could feel how deeply he loves you when I saw him last, and I can see how deeply you love him. But he is Endless, his pride will never bend to anyone. One day he will cast you aside for duty and if you gain his ire he will cast you from his side… perhaps even to a prison like my own.”

Had I not already done that? Had I not questioned him and insulted him and gained his anger more than once? I shook my head. “That is not the man I know. He is stubborn and can be unmovable at times, quick to anger and prideful yes, but he’s never once threatened to cast me aside and when I have gone he has always come looking for me.”

Nada took in my words and smiled softly. “You think he has changed?”

“I know he has,” I said. “I’ve seen it.”

The demon that escorted me shifted, my time was running out. Nada took my hand in hers and pressed a kiss to it. “Lady of The Dreaming, I wish you luck in your endeavors. And… And I humbly ask that you not forget me. If anyone can convince him to free me, it is you.”

“I won’t forget.” I promised. “And the next time you see me, you’ll be free. I know it.”

The demon moved forward but Storm and I were gone, back in the library. I set the box down on the table and asked Lucienne to watch over it and went to find Dream. I expected him to be in the throne room, but he wasn’t. As I opened the door to the bedroom I didn’t see him at first, but when I turned to leave he emerged from the balcony. “You’ve returned.”

I could see the worry in his face melt away as he stood on the opposite side of the room. “Of course I did. We need to talk.”

“Indeed.” He sighed. “I thought you were trapped… You were gone longer than I expected.”

“I was safe,” I assured him, picking at my fingers. “I… I spoke with Nada.”

Dreams face fell again, dark and sad as he took on the weight of my words. “I see.”

“Does that upset you?”

“Only because I know what she will have said about me.” He admitted. “And I fear that it will change how you see me.”

“Nothing could change how I see you,” I said, just as he had to me all those months ago. “What you did to Nada was wrong, but you’ve already admitted that you know that.”

He studied my face closely. “Then why did you go to her?”

I shrugged. “I needed to know if the person I spent the last few months feuding with at every turn was the person your other lovers knew.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve seen the change in you. You are not that man anymore. After… After Roderick and the years we spent apart, you’ve changed Morpheus. I know that you don’t like to think you have, but you have.”

For a moment I thought he would insist he hadn’t changed, like all the times we’d spoken about it before, but instead he nodded. “I know.”

“What?”

“I know that I have changed,” he breathed out. “It was… unexpected and difficult to come to terms with, but… I am glad that I did. It puts many things into a different perspective.”

I took a step forward. “Like what?”

His starry eyes met mine as he moved closer to me. “I have treated you poorly… Have wronged you and denied you that which is your right and I have done it all to satisfy my own pride. Asking you to halt your duties as Lady of The Dreaming was my first mistake, one I regret more than words can express. Growing angry with you for doing that which is merely your nature to, was my second. You have helped this realm far more than anyone since you came here. You have brought hope and laughter back to The Dreaming in a way I never could have accomplished. But what I regret most deeply, is how I spoke to you the night you left. You were right. Gault did not deserve the punishment I gave her, nor did Nada. You were right to question my judgment and I… I am sorry that my words, my actions forced you to leave and placed you at the hands of my sibling.”

I stiffened at the mention of Desire, tears filling my eyes as I looked away from him. “That night… I kissed them. But I didn’t…” God I was so stupid. “I thought they were you. They looked like you and then I saw you in the mirror…”

“I know,” he said, reaching out to press a gentle hand to my arm. “I know what they did to you and I am sorry I did not get there sooner. I looked… I spent all night looking for you, I even asked Hob Gadling for help.”

I smiled a little. “I knew you were looking for me.”

“How?”

“I spoke to your sister. Despair first,” I admitted. “I kind of fell into her realm. But when I came back De… Delirium saved me from falling off a roof.” I smiled, only now remembering the way her eyes were the same color, blue just like Dreams. “She and I have known each other for a while though… From the asylum. She tried to get me to wait for you, but… I was scared.”

Dream stiffened, and even through the barrier still between us I could feel the hurt in him. “You were afraid I would hurt you?”

“No!” I said quickly, my eyes meeting his again as I grabbed his hand to keep him from retreating. “No, Dream… I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared you’d see me and it would just confirm that I was nothing more than a mortal. That I wasn’t worthy of being your equal. So, I left and then things started to get… worse. I’d only felt that out of control when I was back at the asylum and it.... I went to a bridge and, uh, almost jumped.” I could see the fear in his eyes grow. “Death brought Pierre to me and they stayed with me until Johanna picked me up.”

“I am so sorry that my sibling drove you to such a dark place,” he said. “You did not deserve that, none of it.” His eyes sparkled. “I am not worthy to have you as an equal… You are far more wise and loving and strong than I could ever hope to be, my love. You deserve my power.”

I shook my head, laughing softly. “You’re an idiot. I never wanted your power Dream. I just wanted you.”

He smiled, his hand stroking my cheek. “I see that now. I know that the trust that was broken between us will take time to heal. Words are not enough to make up for all the months I’ve mistreated you, but I wish to show you now… in our room, what you mean to me, if you’ll allow me.”

I lifted my lips to his, just a breath away from touching. “Pierre asked me to make you work for my forgiveness.”

Dream smirked. “Did he?”

“Oh yes, I believe the exact word he used was grovel.”

“I will,” he said seriously. “If it’s what you wish I, Morpheus, King of Dreams will grovel before my lady.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want you to grovel, but I am going to make you work for it. You can start by kissing me.”

He needed no further instruction, hands wrapping around my waist and pulling me into him, his head ducking down to press his cold, silken lips to mine. Chills ran all over me as the barrier between us fell apart and both of us were overcome with everything we'd been holding back. For a minute all we could do was breathe against one another as everything settled between us. It would take time to sift through everything, but we had it.

Dream closed his eyes, holding me tightly. "It's good to feel you again. I've missed your heart bearing beside mine."

"As have I," I replied. "No more barriers."

"No more." He agreed, pulling me into another kiss.

It had only been a few days, but so much had happened it felt like a lifetime had passed since we last touched each other like this. He waved away our clothes, both of us moaning at the feel of each other's skin, as he moved us to the bed. His mouth was on my neck the second my back hit the silk sheets, biting and sucking and kissing down my body. He lavished each breast before moving lower, pulling my legs over his shoulders and burying his face between them.

My hands fisted in his hair, pulling at the roots as his tongue lapped at my core, twirling around my clit and plunging as deep inside me as he could make it. My moans and mewls filled the room as the stained glass glowed brighter, casting Dream in a heavenly glow as he looked up at me from between my thighs. "God you're pretty."

He hummed against me, nearly bringing me to climax. He pulled his mouth away for a moment, chills breath fanning across my wet skin. "You are divine, in every way. Your body, your voice, your scent… The way you taste. I could spend hours feasting on you."

I moaned, tossing my head back with a breath. "I don't doubt it."

With a gentle chuckle he returned his mouth to me, moving in the way he knew drove me mad. I came, breathlessly against his tongue. He would have kept going, but I had other plans. I tugged at his hair until he rose from the floor, kissing up my chest until he reached my lips. Pulling him to me I kissed him desperately until his body relaxed on top of me. I flipped us over, hovering over him with a smile. "My turn, Dream Lord."

Unlike the few times before Dream relaxed into the bed, spreading his arms out, relinquishing full control to me. "I am yours, my love."

I returned the favor, sucking marks into his neck, kissing each one and moving down the length of his body until I reached his hard cock. Stroking it slowly in my hand I listened to every soft sigh and strained moan that spilled from his lips. Morpheus was never very loud in bed, but god the noises he did make were heavenly, or sinful perhaps.

I kissed his hips before moving my lips to pepper his cock with the feather light kisses and licks. His hands fisted in the sheets. "Penelope," he gasped. "Don't play games with me."

"I would never, my king," I answered, licking slowly up the length of him and swirling my tongue over the tip. My lips wrapped around him, slowly moving until the majority of him was in my mouth, my hand pumping what remained as I settled into a steady rhythm.

One of his hands fisted into my hair, not pushing me further down or pulling me away, just grounding himself as worked. I didn't know how long it took for him to take hold of my head and lift his hips eagerly into my mouth, his moans growing louder and louder until he pulled me off him and dragged me up to straddle his waist. I'd expected him to flip us over and retake control, but he didn't.

Morpheus looked into my eyes as he guided me down onto him, just like at the lake but this time his hands were soft against my skin. He let me move, set the pace and simply ran his hands along my skin, closing his eyes to savor the feel of us both moving against each other. He finally surrendered control and that fact drove me to move faster, to kiss him harder, to pour every ounce of love and admiration I held for him into this moment. Forgiveness, full and complete forgiveness, would take us both time, but in this moment there was no doubt in my mind that he was the man I knew him to be.

I came and he followed, but he continued to fuck me all through the afternoon, by the end of it both of us were spent and breathing against one another as we lay tangled in the sheets. "Was that satisfactory work for you, my love?"

With a smile I kissed him again. "It was a very satisfying start."

"Cruel thing," he teased, his hand resting on his chest where his ruby would have sat, reminding me of my own gem sitting in my drawer.

"Would a cruel thing have a present for you?" I asked moving to my desk and taking the necklace out, hiding it in my palm.

I returned to my place by his side. "A gift?"

"The project you were so curious about. It was this," I opened my palm and dangled the necklace in front of him. "It just seemed like you missed having one, so I made this."

Dream sat up and ran his fingers along the jewel with a soft smile. "It is magnificent."

I watched him slide it over his head and admired it against his bare chest. He lifted my head and kissed me deeply. "I shall have to make you a gift."

"You don't have to do anything," I assured him. "Just lay with me."

"Always."

As we lay together we caught each other up on all the details of the last few days. Both of us were content for the first time in a long time.

“Matthew said The Dreaming wasn’t doing so well after I left. I’m sorry if I caused any problems,” I said tracing shapes into his chest. “I didn’t think it would be that bad.”

“You didn’t cause most of the damage,” Dream admitted. “It was Rose Walker and her friend, Lyta Hall.”

“What did they do?”

Dream sighed. “Rose weakened the barrier between dreams and reality, giving her friend an opportunity to live out a life with her dead husband, who had been using dreams to avoid his fate. I had to step in. Her husband is now at the place appointed for him and Lyta Hall and her baby are within my sight.”

“Baby?” I sat up a bit. “She had a baby in The Dreaming?”

“The child was conceived in The Dreaming,” he clarified. “When he grows I will have to make certain he’s safe.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Did you tell her that? Should we be checking in on them?”

He chuckled a little, shaking his head. “Oh I doubt she would be happy to see me again.”

“I mean you took her husband from her, but that wasn’t really up to you. You just did what you had to.” I answered, examining the look on his face. “What else did you do?”

“I may have… rushed through the process and… perhaps… insinuated I would take her child.”

My mouth fell open as I glared down at him. “Tell me exactly what you said.”

He sighed. “I informed her that the child was conceived in The Dreaming and told her I would come for it.”

“Dream!” I slapped his arm. “You cannot just tell people you’re going to steal their kids!”

“I’ve no intention of stealing the child!” He argued. “He has power, and such can be used against us should another being learn of his existence. He will need to be watched over and taught how to harness his abilities eventually.”

“I understand that,” I said sternly. “Lyta Hall does not! She’s just a human that thinks some god is coming after her kid.”

I stood up and started getting dressed. “What are you doing?”

“WE are going to apologize to Lyta Hall and assure her that her kid isn’t getting stolen.” I waved my hand to him. “Get up, baby stealer, let's go.”

Dream complied with a heavy sigh. “I forgot how demanding you can be.”

With a smirk I pulled myself into his chest. “I can be very convincing too.”

“I am aware,” he said, kissing my lips gently. “You’ll be showing me after we return from this endeavor.”

“Will I?” “I too can be very convincing, my lady.”

***

We stood awkwardly in their living room, everyone staring us down but none more than Lyta. She blocked the path between us and Daniel with a glare that spoke the words she did not. I turned and glanced back at Dream, who met her glare with one of his own. “Could you just try to not look so… you?”

He practically rolled his eyes as he looked over at me. “This was your idea.”

“You need to apologize,” I said quietly as I elbowed him. “You promised!”

Dream sighed heavily, stepping forward a bit and addressing Lyta. "I am sorry for insinuating that I would steal your baby."

"The gift too."

A quiet groan. "Here is a gift, to show our good will."

He held the onesie out to Rose, who took one look at it and chuckled. “My little Dreamer?” She asked looking up at Morpheus who looked back at me with a glare when my giggling grew too loud.

“If I recall, you are the one that chose this gift,” he practically growled.

“I did! It was just too funny.” Rose laughed with me as Dream and Lyta continued their glaring. Rose turned to her friend, showing her the soft fabric and though her anger and near hatred remained prominent I could see a glimmer of something in her eyes. I stepped around Dream and held the basket out to her. “There’s also these.”

Lyta looked at the basket and then up at me. “Why are you doing this?”

I smiled. “Because I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for you to lose your husband again and then have to fear losing your baby too. Dream is….” I shook my head and shrugged. “He’s an idiot. But, I can assure you he has no intention of stealing your baby.”

“How can we know that?” She demanded. “He’s some kind of god, isn’t he? What’s to stop him from just doing what he wants?”

“Me.” I answered without hesitation. “If he tried to take your child I would stop him.”

Dream's hand on my back was comforting as he replied, “It will not come to such. I give you my word that I will never seek to part you from your son, Lyta.”

She didn’t look convinced, but when Rose grabbed her hand and nodded she softened a bit. “Alright, well what do you want?”

“To offer my protection, to both of you,” Dream said. “He was born of a dream and as such he was born with power. One day I fear there will be those that seek to use him for their own gain.”

Seeing the renewed fear in her eyes I stepped forward and smiled. “Don’t worry, between the two of us he’ll be safer than the pope.”

She laughed a little and took hold of my hand. “Why does it feel like I can trust you?”

“Because you can,” I answered. “You might not know me, but I’d never let anyone hurt a child. Nor would I attempt to steal one from its mother.” I sent Dream a glare over my shoulder. “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding and no doubt fear it’s placed into your life unnecessarily.”

Rose lifted the basket up. “I mean if the amount of gifts they brought means anything I’d say they’re telling the truth.”

I took the soft raven plushie off the top of the pile and showed it to Rose. “Matthew’s contribution. May I?”

Lyta stiffened for a second, fear and anxiety plaguing her as she shifted to the side, letting me move toward Daniel. “Yeah.”

He was laying in his crib, oblivious to anything other than the small winding mobile hanging over him. When I bent over the side his eyes slid up to mine and a wide smile spread on his chubby cheeks as I held the raven out to him. His tiny hands took hold of it, “Jessamy.”

I smiled, tears swelling in my eyes as I studied the plushie. “It does look more like her, doesn’t it?”

Lyta and Rose came rushing to him, praising him for the word, quite possibly his first, as I looked back at Dream who smiled at the sight. It was awkward and full of tension, but it was a start. Dream rarely came with me when I visited Rose and Daniel and Lyta, but that was more to ease Lytas mind. He sent gifts with me, clothes and toys, books from Lucienne dedicated to recording Daniels first within The Dreaming. She had gushed over it for hours, pointing out how magnificent of a dreamer Daniel was.

The last time I visited them everything was the same as it always was, but this time when Daniel fell asleep with his plush raven I noticed a tiny name tag around its neck that read Jessamy. I smiled to myself at the thoughtfulness of it. Dream may not have visited often, but when he did he made sure he always left something behind for the growing boy.

***

The months that followed were hard, but unlike before it felt like Dream and I were a team. We solved problems together, he came to me for my council and considered my opinion before making any decisions. He even started delegating some of his work to me, teaching me how to do things around The Dreaming and trusting me to do what I felt was best. He even let me help him in designing new dreams and nightmares.

The residents of The Dreaming were glad to have me around and it seemed like they valued my contributions to their world. It took a while before they began to see the change in Dream, but once they did the change was almost instant. They were always happy to see him as he walked through the town, it was no longer simply respect that they showed him but also the love he had longed for from them. Dream would spend some time among them every day, creating things, conversing, listening to their complaints or criticisms and taking it into account. If there were changes that he could make, he would.

It was good to finally see him receiving the adoration he deserved. He still had moments of forgetfulness, but The Dreaming and its residents were far more understanding of it now that they understood. He was trying his best, and everyone saw it. Accepting that he had changed was difficult for him, but now that he was here he seemed far more willing to not only accept it but embrace it. Things between us only grew stronger as the days passed, and if possible I’d fallen even more in love with him.

I walked along the beach, toward the distant figure of Lucienne and Dream. This was where he liked to work, far from the noise of The Dreaming and somewhere open enough for him to create freely. The closer I got the more visible the new dream became and a smile pulled at my lips. “You look gorgeous, Gault.”

She laughed, the cosmic color of her dark skin lighting up and her wings flaring out proudly as she examined herself. “Thank you, Lucienne.” She smiled up at Dream. “May I ask what made you change your mind about me, sir?”

“I have no right returning here after over a century expecting everything to be just as I left it. Lucienne tried to tell me that, so did you. But now I’m listening, or trying to.” He sent Lucienne a smile. “New dreams. New nightmares. A new age.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I moved closer with a bright smile. “Stealing my ideas now, Dream Lord?”

He chuckled. “You hardly invented butterfly wings, my lady.”

“They suit you, Gault.” I said to her, “You make a beautiful dream.”

“Thank you, my lady.” She bowed her head to me and then turned to Dream and bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

She flew up into the sky, the blues and purples of her wings glittering in the sunlight. “I may be here a while. Would you mind taking care of things while I work?” He asked Lucienne.

“With pleasure, sir.” She answered happily as she bowed to us both and turned back towards The Dreaming.

Dream watched Gault fly into the clouds a moment before looking at me. “I believe there was another nightmare you wished to change.”

I nearly cried as I nodded. “Are you alright with that?”

“I am.” He said, and I could feel how deeply he meant it. “They have served you well in the past months, and they deserve to be what they wish.”

Holding the vial of storms in my hands I summoned the dark clouds and lightning. Storm looked around, confused for a moment before bowing. “My lord, my lady. Do you have need of me?”

“You once told me you wished to be a dream,” I started. “Do you still?”

They looked at Dream but nodded. “Yes.”

I placed the vial in their forming hands and held them tightly in my own, feeling the darkness and the cold winds between my palms. I focused on white clouds and calm seas, the sky as the sun rose and filled it with light and warmth. The vial shattered and wind swirled around us for a moment before light spread up Storms form, dark clouds shifting and changing color until they stood in front of me, calm puffy white clouds with hues of orange and purple, warm and filled with joy. “Then a dream you are, my friend.”

They looked at themselves, bright sunny eyes looking up at me with joy. “Thank you, my lady.”

“No, thank you. If not for you… your loyalty and friendship, well I wouldn’t be here.”

Dream stood beside me, a hand on my back. “I thank you, dream, for being there for my lady when I could not.”

They bowed. “It was my honor. But… Now I will not be able to serve you, my lady.”

“You don’t need to,” I answered. “Go, be a dream my friend. Feel the sun.”

“I need a new name,” they said. “Would you give me one, my lady?”

“What about Cloud Shaper?” I asked.

The clouds puffed up happily and the light hues shined brighter. “Cloud Shaper. You honor me, my lady.”

I watched them spread out over the sky, filling it with various shapes and hues of color, leaning into Dreams' side. “Thank you.” “I did nothing,” he insisted. “Now, I must return to my work, but I will join you later, my love.”

I pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ve got to get back to work too. I’ll find you when I’m done?”

Dream pressed his head to mine for a moment. “I would like that.”

After I finished my duties I went to the library to spend some time with Lucienne while I waited for Dream to finish his work, but to my surprise he was already there. He and Lucienne spoke softly to one another. What was he planning? I asked myself as I walked closer, nearly tripping when three loud caws echoed in the room. Matthew was perched on the shelves between me and them, standing guard. They turned to me and smiled, ceasing their conversation as I moved closer. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Dream asked. Was he nervous?

I tilted my head. “You’re up to something.”

“Perhaps. But it’s nothing you need to worry yourself with.”

Lucienne smiled wider. “You’re not going to tell me either?”

She laughed. “No, my lady, I fear I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“What about you Smokey?” I asked Matthew.

“Not a chance Penny.”

Dream held his hand out toward me with a smile. “Will you join me for a walk?”

I tapped my foot, pretending to think it through, before smiling up at him and taking his hand. “I suppose I could make time for you.”

“Busy are you?”

“Very!” I insisted. “I am Lady of the Dreaming, you know. It’s a very demanding position.”

“Oh I’m certain it is.”

He offered me his arm and I took it without question. We made our way through The Dreaming, greeting everyone we passed and the whole walk all I could feel was Dreams joy. He was happier than I’d ever seen him and in turn it made me feel even more joyful. At last, he was finding the balance between his duty and his people and I was proud of him. He’d come a long way. We walked down a new path, filled with tall trees and wildflowers swarmed with butterflies, it felt familiar the longer we walked. “What is this place?”

“Fiddlers Green,” he answered.

“The last of your missing Arcana?”

“Yes,” he said. “And somewhere you have wished to see for a long while.”

The path opened up to a field of wildflowers, in the distance a waterfall of crystal clear water roared to life, pouring into a lake that sparkled in the rising moonlight. It looked just like I imagined it would, no, how I pictured it could never do it justice. "It's beautiful."

"The sandman never forgets a dreamer," he said beside me.

With teary eyes I smiled up at him. "Thank you."

"After all you endured because of me," he paused, cold fingers gliding over the scars on my collarbone. "I owed you this at the very least."

"You're Dream of the Endless, you owe nothing to anyone, least of all me."

"I owe you everything, Penelope." It wasn't said out of obligation, but instead he said it like it was a simple fact. Nervousness tingled up my spine as he breathed out a breath. "None of this would have been possible without you."

"You would have done alright on your own," I assured him.

He swallowed thickly. "Perhaps, but it would not have been the same. You have reminded me of so much that I once thought lost, so much that I'd never thought I would want again. My subjects love, one to share my burdens with… A family." Turning toward me he smiled. "Penelope, I would give you anything you wished for and I promised you once that I would make you a queen if you wished it."

"Morpheus," I whispered. "You are all I want, whether or not the title comes with it I don't care as long as I have you."

"Would you wish to become my Queen and bind yourself to me?" He suddenly asked, eyes shining.

I smirked. "Pretty sure we're already bound together. But yes, I would."

He lifted his hand, opening his palm to reveal a new moonstone ring, more beautiful and extravagant than the last. Two butterflies held up the gleaming stone set in a silver band of starlight. "Will you marry me, Penelope Barlow, Fate Weaver?"

Happy tears filled my eyes as I nodded. "Yes. I will marry you, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless." Once he slid the ring on my finger I grabbed his gem necklace and pulled his lips to mine. The Sandman never forgets a dreamer indeed. I thought, making him smile against my lips.

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writingabouteverything · 3 years ago

Text

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:))

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever.

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex?

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish.

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that.

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again.

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle.

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar.

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird.

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.”

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.”

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health.

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.”

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have.

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.”

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh.

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.”

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.”

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.”

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible.

I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut.

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?”

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach.

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.”

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.”

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.”

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.”

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected.

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!”

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go.

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.”

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.”

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?”

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.”

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black.

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between.

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.”

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.”

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.”

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.”

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.”

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.”

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.”

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--”

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse.

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.”

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.”

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.”

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #jane the virgin #jane the virgin AU #lot #hslot st louis

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