Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dream felt it before he heard the griffin’s voice. Which was no surprise because at the end of the day, even the gatekeepers of the castle were his substance.

“My lord, we have captured an intruder.”

“So?”

“She claims to be your sister.”

He knew it never boded well if one of his siblings entered his realm more or less unannounced, and his intuition about this visit wasn’t any different.

When he arrived at the steps to the palace, the scene that presented itself brought out a chuckle, which made the hippogriff look at him with countless questions in its eyes.

His sister was hanging from the wyvern’s mouth, obviously not fazed in the slightest and rather enjoying herself, making noises like a very excited kid on a swing. But then again, she was Delirium, so it was to be expected.

The creature tried to speak without dropping her. “She said she was your sister.”

“She is my sister. Put her down.” He bit his lip in amusement. “Gently.”

“My lady, I must apologise. Had I but known, I…” the wyvern stammered.

“It’s okay. I mean, I liked it. It was like Disneyland,” Delirium babbled. She kissed the wyvern. “I really liked the swinging bit.”

And as much as Dream had to admit to himself that he was partly amused and partly… happy to see his sister, the slight discomfort at her appearance would not leave him alone.

“Delirium, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. I mean, I wanted to talk, too, not just see.” She looked almost shy.

“Why didn’t you call me? You have a gallery.” A slightly reprimanding tone had crept in out of old habit.

“I didn’t want to. If I called and you said no, then that would mean you wouldn’t talk to me. And the last time I called you, you said no. And the time before that. So I thought you probably didn’t want to talk to… me. So I thought if I just turned up, then…” She looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please don’t make me go away.”

And although his expression softened again, he was still wary. “Is this formal family business, sister?”

“Oh yes. I think. I mean kind of. Mostly. Maybe…”

“Then I think my gallery might well be the best place to conduct discussions, don’t you?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever.”

As they began to make their way through empty hallways and corridors, Dream could not help but start enquiring. “What exactly do you wish to talk about?”

She just stared at him, eyes wide, and didn’t say anything. So they kept on walking until they finally arrived at the gallery.

Seven alcoves held the sigils of the Endless, bar Dream’s and that of their lost brother, which were replaced with a mirror and an empty space.

Delirium immediately stared at the void and began to sniffle. It took mere seconds for the quivering bottom lip to turn into a full-blown crying fit.

Dream sighed, “Here, use this,” and handed her the handkerchief he had just willed into existence.

“Thank you…”

“And wipe your nose.” Delirium did as she was told in the most noisy, most pathetic way. “And now, please tell me: What exactly is the problem?”

She pulled up what sounded like a lot of snot. “I was afraid you’d probably be all horrible to me— you’re so scary,” Dream blinked, “So I thought I’d really try to be good, and I’m trying to do my best, but I’ll probably mess it all up. And you’ll say no and be horrible and it’s all a mess and it’s my fault.” She, once again, frantically blew her nose.

“I am sorry you feel that way.” He cast down his eyes before he looked at her again. “I am not angry at you, sister. Should I have ever given you the impression, please accept my apologies.”

Delirium stopped wiping her nose immediately. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Why would I?”

“All that apologising. You’ve never apologised to me. You just act like you know stuff I don’t know, and that makes everything you do okay.”

He looked slightly amused. “I see. Well, I have apologised. And I was not making fun of you. Now, why don’t you tell me why you came here?”

”I was thinking about… things. And I was thinking that we should go and find our brother.”

His face clouded over. “Did you?”

“Well, I miss him. And he could be hurt, and we should do something.”

“So?”

“That was just what Despair said. She said: ‘So?’” She began tying knots into her snotty hanky before untying them again, and doing the whole procedure once over.

Dream began to feel slightly irritated. “You have asked her, then?”

“Yes. She said no. She said you’d say no, too.”

“And Desire? I take it you asked Desire as well?”

“Well, yes. I was in Desire’s house when I had the idea. With Despair. They were both there.”

He furrowed his brow and began to look deeply uncomfortable. “I’m sure they were.”

“So will you come with me to look for him? Please?” She stretched out her hands and offered him the used handkerchief.

“Please keep it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose before he refocused on his sister and leaned in. “Will you excuse me for one moment?”

“I suppose so.” She threw the handkerchief into the air several times.

Dream picked up one of the sigils. “Desire, I stand in my gallery, I hold your sigil. Will you answer me?”

“Dream? It’s been… what… over a year since I last saw you. We were talking about that little mortal, remember?” They chuckled. “Of course you do.”

Dream ignored their jibe. “Delirium is in my realm.”

“No surprises there, I thought she’d be arriving sooner or later. It’s taken her long enough to get the nerve up, though. Are you coming through, by the way?”

“No, I will stay between realms if you have no objection.”

Dream could practically hear Desire rolling their eyes. “Suit yourself.”

“Delirium wants to find our lost brother, and this affair has your marks all over it. She tells me she decided on this… idiotic course while in your domain. And that Despair was present, too.”

“She did decide while she was here. But I had nothing to do with that one.”

“And I suppose you had nothing to do with… recent other developments?” Dream folded his arms in front of his chest.

“Your little affair?”

“It is not an affair. We are bonded.”

Desire laughed quietly. “Oh, that’s serious. Not just marriage? Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.” He could feel himself getting aggravated and exhaled deeply.

“Well, I guess I am happy for you then. Congratulations, blah blah, you know the drill. I am a bit disappointed you didn’t let any of us know formally, to be honest.”

Dream scoffed and ignored their snide remark. “It is not about the bond. I was referring to Thalia… wanting to find me. Before…”

Desire cut in, “I hate to disappoint you, Dream, but she came up with that idea all by herself. Although I did find it extremely amusing. Like the whole thing you two got going on.” They released a little snort.

“I cannot fathom what would be amusing about it, but in any case: Are you telling the whole truth?”

“Truth is so relative and rarely objective, is it, sweet Dream? Suffice it to say, perhaps you shouldn’t always assume the worst when it comes to your siblings, you know?”

It seemed obvious to Dream they were trying to get a rise out of him, so he refrained from replying.

“Anyway, neither Delirium’s new obsession nor your most recent conquest are of my doing in any way that goes beyond what they got themselves into. I am serious.” They yawned. “Now, some of us have business to attend to. So why don’t you go back to your gallery, tell the little gleet to buzz off and bother someone else, so you can get back to your… is honeymoon the apt word for… post-bonding activities?” They knitted their brows before rolling their eyes. “What gives, have fun anyway. I already know you do.” They laughed.

“That is quite enough.” And with that, Dream returned to his gallery without another word, where he found Delirium curled up into a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth, mushrooms sprouting all around her.

She looked up at him. “Oh, you’re back.” A little mushroom began to stretch out its mycelium. “I was thinking. I can do that, think. I mean, even when I forget how to… How to… What was I saying?”

“I have spoken to Desire.”

"Yes. I've done that, too.” She seemed lost, and stretched out her hands.

He took them. “If you were to seek our brother, where would you start looking?”

“Um, I don't know. I suppose I'd start by finding his old friends and asking them if they knew. I mean, I'd ask them really nicely."

“Did you know any of his friends?”

“A few.” She ran her hand over the shaved side of her head before beginning to twist the multicoloured curls on the other.

"He has been gone for 300 years.” He began to lead the way out of the gallery, and Delirium followed him up the marble stairs.

“I made a list of his friends I knew. I wrote it myself. In writing.”

Dream turned his head and smiled. “I’m impressed.”

Her mismatched eyes stared at him intently. “Um… what did Desire say?”

He turned his back on her again. “Nothing important.”

“I am sorry,” she whined. “Am I making you angry?”

“No,” Dream replied tersely and immediately regretted it. He stopped at the top of the stairs which joined the long corridor leading into his private quarters to look at Delirium again.

Thalia immediately froze in space when she bumped into Morpheus and the young girl at the bottom of the corridor.

The girl began to giggle. “Oh, hi!”

Morpheus fixed his gaze on Thalia for a moment, who quickly regained composure, but she felt absolutely horrified inside.

“Thalia, may I introduce you to my youngest sister, Delirium. Delirium, meet Thalia, to whom I have pledged the bond.”

“I know that. Already. You’ve not just pledged. Bond… ed you are. Not just plight… ed. We all know, Dream. It’s so nice to have another sister. Not that the other one wasn’t nice. I mean… but also… Anyway, anyway, I know her anyway.”

Morpheus straightened his back. “Naturally, you would, but certainly not in great detail.”

Thalia stood there in awkward silence, truly not knowing what to say, nervously clutching the sapphire that suddenly felt heavier.

“Yeah, no, she’s not that… like one of them… she never visited my realm. Like, maybe briefly, but she never stayed. But I saw her before she…” Delirium bit her lip. “I mean, when she was looking for you, and mother was…”

His eyes turned dark. “It would have certainly been distressing enough for her to… make your acquaintance.”

Delirium shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, she wasn’t that… strrrrressed,” she rolled R, “It was all quite… Well, she’s a strong one…” She randomly sat down on the steps, then decided to go up into a bridge, feet on one, hands on another, and looked at Thalia upside down. “But I helped her.’ She tumbled over. “Didn’t I? I really liked her funny thoughts about… that frosted thing… because it was clear but also not see-through… so I gave her a pack… for the doggie…”

His voice sounded on edge. “You make no sense.”

Thalia touched his arm lightly. “She does. We met. I… I just didn’t know she was your sister, I thought I was hallucinating.”

Delirium laughed. “You were. For a moment. But that was the plan all along, so you could…” The smile drained from her face when she saw her brother's expression.

“What have you done?”

Delirium’s bottom lip began to quiver. “I helped her so she could find you. Is that not what you wanted?”

“She died! How could you possibly think that’s what I wanted?”

Thalia stepped closer. “Morpheus, please…”

He looked her straight in the eye. “Forgive me, but this is between me and my sister.”

She held his gaze. “I died, so no, I don’t think it is just between you and your sister.”

He blinked and hesitated for a moment. “Very well.”

“She tried to help. If she hadn’t given me that… item, I probably wouldn’t have been able to see your mother.”

Morpheus looked at Delirium, who had basically turned into a puddle on the floor again. And indeed, little pools of water were surrounding her, and she busied herself putting frogs in them while trying to evade her brothers’ gaze.

“Perhaps that would have been better.” His voice was cold as ice.

Thalia lost it. “Please stop! I am not going to go through this again. I am here, I am happy. When will you ever stop?”

“Not in front of my sister,” he hissed.

“Oh, I don’t mind, I don’t like secrety things anyway…”

“Neither do I,” Thalia added, and she lifted her chin to look straight into his eyes.

There was a moment of awkward silence, of exchanging glances, of holding on to control.

His posture was so rigid that Thalia thought his spine might snap. “Fine. But we will need to talk about your involvement in Thalia’s… fate, Delirium. Because this throws a whole new light on the matter.”

“Does it really make a difference?” Thalia asked softly.

“It does to me.”

And while she felt like replying, ’Isn’t it enough that it doesn’t make a difference to me?’, she didn’t because she knew his answer was definite.

“Should we maybe… just sit down and talk?” she asked.

“Can I move around though? I don’t like sitting. That much. It makes me antsy. And then I make little ants, and they all walk in a little queue and carry all the food away on their tiny backs. Provided there’s food of course. Maybe I’d like some? Anyway, I could make them wear little backpacks, it’s quite funny actually… and cute. I like cute. Sometimes…”

Morpheus ran both hands through his hair and left it in even more of a mess than usual. He looked so utterly nettled, and at the same time somewhat long-suffering and resigned, that Thalia couldn’t help but snort out a little laugh. And of course Delirium joined in.

He looked at both of them and rolled his eyes, but it seemed to get harder for him to preserve his stern look. “It seems I am outnumbered, and my attempts to hold a serious conversation are not appreciated.”

Thalia took his hand, which made Delirium clap out of nowhere. She briefly looked at her and then turned towards him again. “Not at all. Perhaps conversations are just easier if we go into them in good faith?”

He sighed, but this time, it was with a smile. “Shall we move to the dining room then?”…

Chapter Text

The dining hall could be a wondrous place. If Morpheus felt so inclined. Sometimes it was a vast chamber, filled with long tables and elegant chairs, lit by hundreds of candles that softly illuminated walls with the most beautiful paintings.

Today, it looked a lot simpler, smaller even. Certainly not unpleasant, although the lighting was a touch too bright, and the walls were bare. Thalia had to admit she sometimes hated the long table he seemed to prefer. She had, not so secretly, changed it to a smaller, round one on several occasions because she preferred to sit right next to him. The need to eat was very subdued in both of them, although she liked to remind herself of the waking world and considered food enjoyable, and she had no intention of ever changing it. Maybe, just maybe, he had slowly begun to drop his slight disdain for food, at least when he was in her company and relatively relaxed. He was capable of enjoying food, but it had to be said that being close to each other often led to anything but eating, and both the table and chairs had been used for distinctly different purposes on several occasions. The mere thought of the last time they had… repurposed them made the heat rise in her face. And judging by the glance Morpheus gave her, accompanied by some faintly harrumphing noise, he had caught up on it. He gently shook his head, but it was fairly obvious he struggled to hide his amusement.

However, it only lasted for a moment. The long table was back today, and Morpheus bade Delirium to sit at one short end while he sat at the other, which only left Thalia with the long side, right between them. A strange feeling made its way from her stomach all the way up to her shoulders, down her arms and into her fingertips, so she closed her eyes briefly to let it pass. But when she opened them again, her need for a feeling of warmth and welcome had apparently changed a couple of things: The chairs felt softer, the table somewhat smoother, the light less harsh, and she caught a glimpse of Morpheus knitting his brows while Delirium chirped, “Those chairs are super comfy,” before proceeding to make herself hang right off them topsy-turvy.

But that was it. The newly ensuing silence felt awkward and stifling, and the lightness they had managed to achieve in the hallway had somewhat vanished again. Thalia knew he would undoubtedly be a good host, and let whatever dishes anyone desired be served by whatever dreamer might show up at whatever point. And yet, she couldn’t help the following words fall out of her mouth:

“Who’s coming to the kitchen with me?”

Delirium immediately sat on her chair straight as an arrow and cheered, “Me!” while Morpheus put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his steepled hands.

“And why would we do that?” he asked with a slightly bemused tone and a slow blink of his eyes.

“So… we get to make our own food and keep our hands busy? And talk while our hands are busy? And don’t sit on our butts and stare at each other and wait until the awkward silence magically dissolves into smoke?”
Morpheus frowned, and his features seemed to cloud over. “You need not work with your hands…”

She threw him a dirty look. “Really? I’m sure you remember what my hands looked like when I painted in the waking world, right? Or that the same hands made hundreds of rock-hard cookies since I…” She swallowed hard, and her voice turned quieter. “…arrived in the Dreaming.” Thalia caught the agonised look on his face straightaway and pulled herself together. “The cookies I made from dough I kneaded with my own hands. The cookies you always tried, apart from that one time at Christmas when you and Mel ganged up on me.”

His mouth twitched. “I…”

Thalia grinned at him. “Thank you for your kindness by the way, because they truly are awful. In any case, the kitchen awaits…”

He huffed. “I do not prepare food.”

“Well, you can just magic it out of thin air if that would hurt your pride less. But you could still come with us.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he noticeably tried to keep it in check. “Fine.” He rose from his chair and bowed. “After you, ladies.”

While they were making their way into the kitchen and Delirium cartwheeled along the corridors, he leaned in and lowered his voice, “I know what you are doing.”

She looked at him with a lopsided smile. “No shit, Sherlock.”

He put his arm around her waist and pulled her in briefly, and his breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine. But not quite as much as the brief graze of his lips before he whispered, “You were right, by the way. Your cookies are awful. You should return to making cupcakes; I rather enjoyed those, even if they were too sweet.” The slightly impish look on his face left no doubt as to what he was thinking and seemed hilarious all the same.

“I’ll conjure up all the cupcakes of the Dreaming if that gets you into the mood.”

He let go of her and cast down his eyes with a little chuckle before he gave her a sideways glance.

Today, the kitchen was a large, circular room with a high ceiling and a fireplace in the centre. It didn’t really make much sense to a human mind, and Thalia still couldn’t get her head around the fact that the kitchen constantly changed. Why would one continuously tamper with a room only practical if one knew where everything was? But maybe that was an all-too-human way of looking at things.

And of course no one else was present: she was fairly certain it wasn’t a coincidence and he had taken care of it, just in case of any awkward developments.

Thalia had a brief glimpse at the shelves and cabinets that contained various ingredients, utensils, and cookbooks she couldn’t read anyway since most of them were written in languages she had never even heard of. Some of the items she spotted looked at least familiar: eggs, butter, flour and sugar. They quite possibly solely existed because she was the only one using them for her measly baking attempts. She had done it badly in the waking world, she did it badly here, and she did it because it was strangely comforting, and always had been. Her baked goods weren’t really for eating; they kept her hands busy when her mind was in overdrive.

Apart from the ingredients that actually made sense to her, she could also make out dragon scales, fairy dust and… moonbeams?

The moonbeams had already caught Delirium’s attention, and she began to chase after them. With a bowl she had grabbed from one of the shelves.

Thalia turned to Morpheus. “Is there any good reason to believe something edible could be conjured from moonbeams, because I honestly have no idea why they would be tumbling out of the storage cupboard?”

He just stood there, arms clasped behind his back, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “May I remind you that I do not prepare food?”

And he didn’t even try to be funny this time. His fingers were curling and uncurling ever so slightly while his spine was far too straight, and it reminded her of the night he had stood in her kitchen, equally statuesque but at the same time extremely awkward.

“Want a coffee?” She bit her lip to repress the snort that had already started to make its way out.

Morpheus turned his head so slowly to fully look at her that she burst out laughing.

He raised his left eyebrow. “It would certainly be a safer endeavour than the last time you forced me into having one of your earthly concoctions. I hesitate to call them ‘worldly’.”

She just didn’t care anymore and wrapped her arms around his waist while tilting back her head to look into his eyes. “I wasn’t aware I forced you.”

“Gently. Which is far worse.” He finally smiled.

She got on her toes because he really seemed to like playing on height differences today and she couldn’t be bothered to try and outdo him. Her lips not so accidentally brushed against his ear when she whispered, “You never seemed particularly defenceless to me.”

His audible reply was nothing more than a little exhale, and he chose to keep the second part of his answer private: “I will gladly prove how defenceless I am later. Unless you are not opposed to let me turn the tables?”

They got completely lost in each other’s eyes, and Thalia felt the physical pull become irresistible.

Delirium just about prevented them from kissing. “I thought we were making food, I’m hungry.”

Thalia stepped back with a grin, and even Morpheus struggled to keep a straight face.

“Can we make something that is like… all sweet and savoury and bitter and sour? And sweet. I already said that. But all at once. Sweet and bitter at once. And the rest.”

Thalia looked around helplessly. “Is that even possible?”

“Salad,” Morpheus commented dryly.

“What?”

“Salad with roasted beets, goat’s cheese, walnuts, and a citrus vinaigrette. The beets provide sweetness, the cheese adds saltiness, the walnuts are bitter, and the vinaigrette is… well, sour.”

Delirium looked thoroughly unimpressed. Thalia, on the other hand, found herself both verging on a laughing fit and strangely intrigued. “So you actually can cook? Unlike me, queen of worst food known to man?”

“No, but I can conjure it up in my mind.”

“Fat chance. You, my friend, are going to use your hands,” she teased.

“No.”

Delirium cut in. “He can eat the salad himself, it doesn’t sound nice to me.” She turned towards Thalia. “I could make something so much better.”

Morpheus slowly shook his head at Thalia and mouthed, “No,” which made her chortle.

Delirium looked at her, then turned towards him. “Are you doing stuff behind my back? Are you?”

He opened his mouth to retort.

“Cheeseboard,” Thalia threw in quickly. “Salty cheese, sour, sweet and bitter fruit, sweet honey and more bitter… coffee to wash it down.”

“And crackers!” Delirium called.

“Cheese and crackers.” Morpheus rolled his eyes. “Your creativity truly knows no bounds.”

“Sounds so much better to me than salad!” Delirium hopped on one of the worktops and let her legs dangle. And as she did, she began to juggle with three packets of crackers that had appeared out of nowhere.

Thalia disappeared into the adjoining pantry and began rummaging through the shelves. “We have none of the other stuff we need.” She popped her head back out and found Morpheus sitting next to Delirium on the worktop, resting his elbow on one knee he had pulled up, while his sister leaned her head against his shoulder and had already begun to eat dry crackers.

It seemed beautiful and strange to her; the tension she had felt between them earlier had all but disappeared. They truly looked like siblings, and yet, Thalia couldn’t help but notice that there was something else in there: a scattering of almost parental affection and protectiveness on his part that didn’t seem intuitive, considering how tense he had been about his sister’s arrival. But there it was. And all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Thalia was overcome with an intense feeling of sadness. She quickly snapped herself out of it when she noticed Morpheus looking at her.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm? Yes, just nothing of use in the pantry.”

“Well, you know how it works. Just imagine it.” He didn’t even try to hide the slightly triumphant look in his eyes.

She sighed. “Only the ingredients though, because you are still going to prepare food with your hands.”

Another, “No,” but this time, he smiled…

Delirium had been tasked to chop up some fruit, but the honey dripper seemed far more interesting to her, which was probably a good idea, considering she would have been required to handle a knife. She kept on dipping the dripper into the jar and created free-floating shapes. They almost looked like spun sugar, only that they were completely liquid, and the odd neglected one ended up in a puddle on either the floor or the worktop.

“So…” Morpheus said while still refusing to use his hands to stack up rows of three crackers each on a wooden board. Instead, he just listlessly lifted his fingers, “If she was not truly delirious, how come you saw Thalia just before she met Mother?”

Delirium froze for a second, which left some honey suspended in midair before it ended up in another puddle on the floor. Thalia, on the other hand, had just about managed not to cut her finger with the cheese knife. She knew that this time, there would be no avoiding the topic.

And it seemed Delirium shared that view. “Well, I knew that the other lady wouldn’t let her through if she didn’t have food for the doggie…”

“So you said. But why did you know Thalia would be there in the first place?”

The atmosphere became more tense again, and no matter how much she wished it weren’t so, Thalia had to admit to herself that she, too, wanted to know why one of his siblings had been involved in her last journey as a living human. Even if it had been a dream. Or a trap.

Delirium put the dripper back into the honey jar and sat on the floor, and a tiny bird appeared in her hand. She looked at it intently.

“Well, the twins told me?”

He inhaled sharply. Thalia was surprised he didn’t immediately fly off the handle; she could sense his tension as if it were her own.

But he kept himself in check. “And what exactly did they tell you?”

The bird turned into a butterfly right before everyone’s eyes. “Um… that I needed to see her before she saw Mother.”

He closed his eyes. Which was probably a good thing, because Thalia was sure he would be rolling them otherwise. “Delirium, what I am asking is: Why did Desire and Despair know about Mother’s plan?” His voice sounded on edge.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I think Despair talked to her. Or she talked to Despair, can’t remember which way…”

“I thought so much. And did the twins tell you anything else?”

A little V made its way between Delirium’s eyebrows. “What do you mean? They talk all the time. Well, Desire does. And I don’t get… they make no sense. At least to me. Sometimes. Often. And then they… Ah, I don’t know.”

The thin veneer on his mounting tetchiness finally cracked. “Remember!”

Delirium’s bottom lip quivered. “See? Now you are angry with me again! I knew. You’re always so… annoyed with me. So horrible. I just wanted to talk. And find our brother… and you’re just so… always angry. Angry. Always!”

Thalia put down her knife. “He’s not angry, he just…”

“Do not speak in my stead.”

And although his voice was comparably quiet, she flinched at the iciness of his tone and the coldness of his stare. Whoever he had been only minutes ago was completely gone.

She straightened herself. “Do you want me to leave?”

“It is not for me to decide, since you have every right to be in this room. But perhaps my conversation with my sister would be more productive if you were not present.”

Thalia tried not to take it personally, but it was hard not to, especially since this was also concerning her. She swallowed quickly and forced the corners of her mouth into something resembling a smile.

“I will leave you to it.”

Delirium truly looked like a 14-year-old girl who didn’t know what to do with herself, but she gave her a lopsided smile before she turned down her eyes.

Morpheus, on the other hand, just nodded and neither attempted to tell Thalia otherwise, nor to drop his cold attitude for even the briefest of moments as she left…

Chapter Text

Delirium and Dream sat at opposite ends of the kitchen—she at the farthest, right next to the monstrosity that was probably a fridge, or maybe something else entirely. He had settled on the worktop again. While she seemingly tried to avoid his gaze, his stare was unwavering. The only sounds were the ticking of a clock that didn’t even exist, and the occasional clink when Delirium dropped one of the spoons she tried to balance on their handles like dominoes.

Dream shifted on the worktop uneasily and opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again a moment later without uttering a sound. He felt his fingers grasp the counter’s edge and made a conscious effort to relax them, albeit futilely, because he sensed them curling again only seconds later. When he looked at Delirium, a familiar bitterness made itself known in his chest.

Another spoon clattered to the floor, and Delirium flinched. He didn’t.

He felt his jaw clenching as Thalia’s face flickered through his mind, and he slid down from the worktop. Every instinct screamed at him to leave, to walk away before this became another argument. Which he did not want, but he struggled to find words that would not sound like judgment. He had been here before, repeating the same pattern for billions of years: concern twisted into condescension, confusion met with frustration.

Delirium simply didn’t understand why he needed to know about the twins, about Thalia’s death, and why her involvement felt like betrayal. But with Delirium, nothing ever was what it seemed. Perhaps she had truly meant to help?

Dream cleared his throat. “Delirium…”

She briefly looked at him before returning to her precarious spoon-balancing.

He tried again, this time softer. “I need to understand what happened.”

She dropped another spoon, and he felt his jaw working again.

“My sister, I want to believe that your intentions were sincere, and that you truly believed you were helping when you gave Thalia an item for what seems to have been necessary bribery. But I would like to remind you that she died. If not as a result of your actions, they might have contributed all the same.”

Delirium’s hair had changed into a long, multicoloured mop, but she looked slightly more grown-up regardless. “My attentions-intentions contributed to what?”

He exhaled noisily, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She died. As a result of meeting Mother. And she would not have met Mother if you had not provided her with a bribe for Mother’s handmaiden.”

“But Desire and Despair said that’s the only way.”

“The only way for what?”

“For you to be together. And do that thing. Like, the bonding thing.”

“They talked about…?”

“No, that’s just me. You know. Liking the idea of that. Sometimes. Not for me…” She swallowed hard and then pulled the edges of her mouth up. Whether it was a smile was hard to tell. “But for you. Because I think it’s what you always wanted. To have that. With someone.”

Dream felt a pang of guilt, perhaps even a glimmer of gratefulness that his sister would wish him happiness, but it was immediately replaced by anger at his siblings for taking advantage of her. Or perhaps they had not; it was impossible to tell. He concluded he would probably need to talk to Despair because he was absolutely certain he could not stomach another conversation with Desire.

Delirium looked at him intently. “You know, you don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Ask our sister.”

“I…”

“’S okay. I get it. I’m not stupid, and no one has taken advantage of me. I can choose for myself. I can do that. Understand what’s right, you know? And I think it was right. I mean, look at you. Like, you two.” She hinged a spoon on her nose and balanced it, cross-eyed, which coaxed the faintest smile from Dream’s lips. The spoon dropped, and his smile disappeared.

“But she still died, nothing will ever change that.”

“Yeah, I know, you said it a hundred times. At least. She’s dead. But…” She got up, walked across the room in a way that was somewhat out of character because it was slow and measured, and stopped right in front of him, looking up with her mismatched eyes. “You are happy. Like happy happy. And she is happy. So if everyone’s happy, where’s the problem? I think happy is good. Mostly.”

Dream looked down at her. “Perhaps it is. But please do not, ever, forget that we do not toy with human lives for our own sakes. And while what has happened cannot be undone, I urge you to tell me what has transpired during your meeting with the twins, my sister.”

“Toying… Playing is fun.”

It was the moment the control he had been holding on to so desperately began to slip. His voice was eerily quiet when he said, “It is not. Not if it concerns mortal life.” His eyes turned black, and whatever stars were still faintly visible flashed in the deepest red. His features were harsher, sharper, and all colour had drained from his lips.

She blinked. “You scare me.”

“You should be scared. So should the twins. And I ask you for the last time: What did they tell you?”

Delirium twirled her hair and chewed her lip. “Well… maybe you should be scared, too.”

“Are you threatening me? Do not forget your place, Delirium.”

She looked straight into his eyes. “I know my place. Yup, I do. But, I… You are doing the threatening thing. You are doing that to me. And it’s not nice because I’ve helped you. And so did the twins. Even if they maybe didn’t mean to. Or at least not, like…” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “What they really meant to do was… well, they were angry at Night. You know? They don’t like our mother at all. Meh, who does, right? It’s not like she… likes us.” She pouted, he swallowed hard. “So what they were really doing was kicking her right where it hurts. That’s what Desire called it anyway. Because Night had a plan. But the twins had a different plan. And Mother’s plan was,” she stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry, “bollocks.”

Dream knitted his brows. “You make no sense.”

“Ha! You always say that. But sometimes the things that don’t make sense make the most sense. To me anyway. And you were sad, and your love was sad, and Despair likes sad, so big sadness all around, and then because of all that sadness, your woman needed to find you, and there was so. Much. Sadness! Enough sadness to do all the things. Because she, I mean your wife, no, the bonded one… Or is that bound? Binded? Wait…”

“Her name is Thalia.”

“I know that.”

“Then call her by her name.”

“Tah-lee-ya. Well, Thalia doesn’t like sad. She doesn’t want it because she used to be sad a lot, and she is much happier when she has… hope. Happy happiness. Odd though, having happiness doesn’t make you happier, does it? Or maybe it does. Never mind. So they used that to annoy Mother because they knew that hadn’t been her plan, you two being together for good. But now you can. You get it now?”

He closed his eyes and kept them closed as he spoke. “But they still sacrificed a human life for their personal agenda.”

“So? It’s the result that matters, no?”

He opened his eyes again and stared at her. She shrugged her shoulders.

“Get out.” His voice was nothing more than an icy hiss.

She blinked twice in quick succession. “What?”

“Leave.”

“Now?”

“This instant.”

“But we haven’t talked about finding our brother yet.”

“Neither will we. Go now.”

“But that’s why I came here!” Delirium whined.

“I do not care why you came here. I do not care about any of your, or Desire’s, or Despair’s, games.” His voice was a low rumble, and the cutlery in the drawers started to rattle in sympathetic resonance. “I. Do. Not. Care.” He inhaled deeply, turned his back on her and began to walk out. When he arrived at the door’s threshold, he stopped, but without facing her. “You have outstayed my welcome. I do not wish to discuss matters any further.”

And with that, he just left his sister standing in the middle of a kitchen that had turned into a dark cave…

The atmosphere was so thick with tension that Thalia could have cut it with a knife. Morpheus paced up and down their bedroom; she sat on the floor, as she often did when she needed to ground herself.

When she couldn’t take it anymore, she asked, “Are you going to talk to me?”

He looked at her, still cold and guarded. “What do you wish to know?”

She scoffed. “You’re not very good at playing stupid.”

“I am not playing anything.”

Thalia got up; she felt her hands balling into fists and had to make a conscious effort to relax them again. “You hurt me by sending me away.”

His eyes darted toward the door. “You will need to learn to keep your emotions under control if…”

“Ah, really? And how is that working out for you?”

His gaze zoned in on her eyes again, still without a hint of warmth. “Do not challenge me.” There was so much tension in his jaw that the words came out pressed.

“‘Do not challenge me’?! You are taking the piss! For the past hours, I’ve tried to smooth over the waves and create an atmosphere that’s conducive to talking, and it would have gone well if you didn’t suddenly decide to behave like an arsehole. What’s between your sister and you is one thing, but what’s between us is another.”

He stood, frozen in space. His eyes turned dark, and his voice was so quiet it began to make Thalia feel unsteady. And she knew that’s what he wanted, which made it worse. “You spoke in my stead. I might need to remind you to never do that again and remember your place.”

Thalia swallowed hard, but her eye contact was unwavering. She lifted her chin. “And what is my place? To be the meek and docile consort? Be there when you feel like it, and leave when you don’t? Good enough for fucking, but not good enough to be present when the reasons she lost her life are discussed?”

The way his fingers grasped at the robe he was wearing now but hadn’t worn all day gave away his barely contained rage. All he pushed out through gritted teeth was, “Excuse me before I forget myself.” And with that, he left, and he didn’t make any attempt to close the door quietly.

“Shit,” she whispered to herself. She knew she had pushed him, and she was angry with herself she had let her distress get the better of her.

Thalia’s first instinct was to go after him and apologise, but she also knew he wouldn’t be responsive right now. Some deep part of her also still felt he should apologise to her. He had made her feel as if she were beneath him, that they weren’t equals. And perhaps they truly weren’t, and to weigh that possibility hurt. She let herself fall on the bed in frustration…

The hours passed, and he still hadn’t come back. Thalia decided to finally go looking for him. She could usually sense him, but she couldn't right now. He chose to block her, which seemed childish and stubborn, but then again, she had always known he could be that way. And she had to admit she hadn’t exactly behaved like an adult either.

So she just had to find him the old-fashioned way, and she roamed the castle to check all the most likely places.

Alas, she couldn’t find him in any of them, and after spending what felt like the best of an hour looking for him, she gave up and returned to their chambers.

“Fuck!” Her hand went up to her chest when she found him sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed, arm resting on one pulled-up knee. And he looked at her, jaw still clenching, fingers of the hand that was splayed out on the floor occasionally tapping in a wave motion.

The fact that he hadn’t let her feel him before he had come back was unsettling. And the moment she thought it, she sensed his walls coming down, and his face softened ever so slightly.

Thalia hesitantly walked over and sat down on the floor right next to him.

Neither of them spoke. She turned her head along the edge of the mattress and looked at him, but he still didn’t look back at her, jaw tight, gaze fixed straight ahead.

She carefully brushed her pinkie against his, and he exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He finally turned his head. The stars in his eyes were still edged with flames, but the longer he looked at her, the more they subsided until only a soft amber glow remained.

“Your words hurt me,” he confessed.

“It wasn’t right of me to say what I said. I was upset because you hurt me, too.”

“It was not my intention to use words to hurt you. However, I think you chose your words deliberately.”

She cast down her eyes, unable to say anything because he was right.

He turned his face away again. “I did not mean to imply your company was not appreciated, and if my words suggested I did…” He hesitated. “I will concede that I might have chosen them poorly, and I apologise. However, I also need you to understand that my sister is not a harmless child, even if she might appear as such at times. And I deemed it a better idea to keep family business in the family.”

Thalia felt her eyes well up. “But I am family.”

Morpheus shifted his weight to one side and faced her, hesitantly reaching out to touch her face. She leaned into his touch. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.” He knitted his brows when her eyes connected with his.

“It just felt as if we weren’t equals. As if there are still things you won’t tell me, or let me be a part of. And there was some ugly disregard in the way you looked at me.”

He put his other hand on her cheek. “That is not true. You know I consider you my equal in so many ways, and I have done so for a long time! Yes, I chose my words poorly when I said to remember your place. What I was trying to convey is that there are things you will never understand. Things you are not by cosmic nature. And you should feel grateful you don’t have to and never will be.”

“But I want to understand!”

He laughed, but the bitterness was biting. “Your stubbornness truly is one of your most vexing traits.”

“Takes one to know one,” she retorted.

His hands dropped off her face, and he looked down.

Thalia was determined not to let him retreat into himself again, but she also knew it could backfire horribly.

She took his hands. “Will you let me be a part of what is going on? If you wish, only the part that concerns me? You don’t have to tell me about the rest if you don’t want to.”

Morpheus sighed. “Can I say no?”

Thalia’s heart sank. “Yes, of course.”

He looked into her eyes, and the softness of the moon in a misty winter’s night sky was back. “I was trying to be facetious. You should know by now how much I struggle with denying you anything.”

“Didn’t seem like it earlier.” She frowned.

His face seemed to fight for a moment whether it wanted to cloud over again. “Will you stop trying to get in the last word? It is maddening.” A slight smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth. “But I think you are fully aware of that, and perhaps it is a strategy.”

She blinked. “And what strategy would that be?”

“To drive me… mad?” The smile got bigger, and he seemed quite pleased with his measly attempt at a quip.

Thalia just rolled her eyes.

His face softened. “I will tell you what you want to know, but I warn you that it might be painful.”

“I already know your mother used me as a pawn in a petty game of chess. I’m fully expecting some of your siblings to take after her.”

He just nodded, and his face was etched with worry, regardless of her wish.

Morpheus told her everything Delirium had revealed. And she thought to herself that it wasn’t anything she hadn’t already, deep inside, known. Despair had always been a constant in her life until she had finally chosen to fight it, even if it had cost her life. The revelation that three out of five of his family had seen nothing more in her than a chess piece in a family feud hurt, but not as badly as she had feared. And that the two, bar him, who had shown a semblance of sympathy were Delirium and Death seemed almost comical to her.

She found herself thinking she had already made peace, but that he hadn’t. All of this seemed so much worse and painful for him than for her. And it had been painful for her, so that meant something.

“Maybe you should talk to Delirium again,” she said softly, and she could immediately feel his tension.

“I do not see the point.”

Thalia could tell how hard he fought his newly mounting anger, and that he struggled to keep it contained. He kissed her hand and forced a smile. The way he looked at her was both definite and an apology, and he got up. “I shall see to my duties, please do not wait for me tonight.”

And with that, he left, and she was alone again…

Chapter Text

Even after a considerable time in the Dreaming, the change from day to night, night to day, still confused Thalia. It was arbitrary and down to his whims.

Sometimes, the light would not fade for weeks.

Sometimes, a twilight, neither dusk nor dawn yet both, would linger far longer than should be considered normal by any human standards.

Sometimes, the days and nights would pass as one would expect them to.

Sometimes, it would be night for what felt like days, and the irony was not lost on her.

And on the subject of nights, he had stayed true to his word; he had not returned to their chambers while darkness had enveloped the Dreaming.

But it was clearly morning right now, and Thalia knew he wanted it to be, so she decided to look for him. Thankfully, he hadn’t shut her out this time; she could sense where he was.

She didn’t bother putting on shoes and began to pad the castle’s corridors. Her bare feet created the faintest echo—everything was so quiet she could even hear the fabric of her dress rustling softly. The air felt cooler than usual, but the light that broke through the windows began to warm the marble floor. And that warmth spread through her feet, up her legs, into her core until it was all she felt.

She knew why.

Thalia began to walk with more purpose, her eyes fixed on the end of the corridor where it led into another, and she could feel him because she sensed he wanted her to feel him. When she reached the end of the corridor, she turned left, and there he was: leaning against a wall, looking at her, waiting.

And it made her feel annoyed but also weirdly excited at the same time. Her breath did funny things in her semblance of lungs. Or rather: no air seemed to reach them at all.

Thalia slowed down and nervously tucked her hair behind her ears. And she had no idea why she felt nervous because she wasn’t nervous; that wasn’t it. What she felt were little jolts of electricity, sparks flying for no reason other than they did.

“Good morning,” he said quietly, voice subtly husky.

“Is it?”

He inclined his head ever so slightly. “Somewhere.”

Thalia wondered why they talked to each other like random strangers at a bus stop, and it made her smile involuntarily, and of course he picked up on it.

“You seem in good spirits.” Morpheus turned his shoulder into the wall, index finger tracing patterns in the brickwork as he briefly looked away before his eyes fixed on her again.

“Hm,” she hummed as she moved close enough to touch him, but she didn’t. “How about you?”

“Hm,” he echoed as he turned his back to the wall again, and the way he looked at her, breath a touch too fast, made her mouth go dry within an instant.

“Finished with your duties?”

He cocked one eyebrow. “You know that is not truly possible.” And his blink was a fraction too slow when he added, “On second thought, perhaps my answer would depend on your definition of ‘duties’?”

There was something subtly yet unambiguously lascivious in the way his hands were lying flat on the wall below his hips and his head was tilted back slightly. Thalia knew she probably wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. Neither did she want to. So she just stepped close enough for their bodies to touch and pushed one knee between his legs. And she didn’t really need to push since he yielded only too willingly.

She ran her hands across his, and it didn’t take him long to turn them over to interlace his fingers with hers. It wasn’t entirely clear to her if he began to pull up his arms or if she pushed them, neither did she care, but they eventually ended up over his head. Her body was now flush against his, and his thigh pressed in where she began to ache far quicker than she wanted him to know.

Who was she kidding, of course she wanted him to know!

Morpheus raised his arms a bit further so she had to begin to stretch. He also put his heel up against the wall, only just, and the resulting subtle lift of his knee made her drag against his thigh.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment to collect herself. When she opened them again, she held his gaze while turning her hip ever so slightly, and the way she pressed against him made him part his lips with a quiet sigh. He was undoubtedly not immune to the way she leaned into him while rocking, albeit in the subtlest of ways, against his thigh.

Thalia smiled and glanced down between them briefly before she looked at him again. “Happy to see me?”

“Take your guess,” he whispered.

“Feels like it.” She pushed a little harder.

It was then he abandoned all restraint, or whatever illusion of it he apparently had been holding on to. He kissed her, hands still above his head, and Thalia could feel how desperately he needed to touch her, but he didn’t and kept his hands in place. She knew he could turn and pin her against the wall within the blink of an eye if he only chose to, even without as much as touching her, but she also sensed he wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. So she deepened the kiss and began dragging herself against his thigh slowly, and his hips soon began rolling against her in turn.

His hands started to get more restless, fingers curling and uncurling, and he breathed into her so heavily she caught herself wondering if she could make him come this way. The thought made a little laugh find its way out before she had any chance to hold it back.

She felt the edges of his mouth turn up, and he said, “You could,” before he moaned quietly.

“You seem very highly strung, would you like to retreat?”

“No.”

And with that, his hands were free, and he had her turned and lifted against the wall so quickly she yelped.

“We can’t possibly do this. What if someone sees us?”

Instead of replying, he pushed against her, hard, wanting, fully clothed. Her dress, on the other hand, was barely covering her below her waist.

“Do you have no qualms about exposing your consort in the middle of a hallway?”

“If I do not wish for anyone to see you, no one will see you. Or us, for that matter.”

Her senses were precariously clouded by now. “But can you hold on to that control while in the throes?”

He pulled back and looked at her in a way deserving of a slap. “Perhaps the very remote possibility I cannot makes it more… exciting?”

“Oh, am I boring you?”

That’s when she felt his jeans had unbuttoned, and that her underwear was gone. “Do I seem bored to you?”

She just shook her head and let him sink into her.

They tried to slow down; she brushed his hair from his face while getting lost in his eyes, he steadied her before getting lost in kissing her. But the pent-up tension of the previous day caught up with them far too quickly. Just when she thought she might not last any longer, she heard the squeak of Mervyn’s cart.

Thalia’s eyes widened in panic while Morpheus just chuckled, breathless and with a hazy expression. And he very clearly had no intention to stop. Neither did she if she was truly honest with herself.

A loud moan escaped her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth reflexively. He pressed her into the wall harder and removed both arms from under her thighs. But she didn’t slide; he braced her with his mind, simply took her hand off her mouth and whispered, “Still in control. Just,” before he kissed her.

Ragged breaths, speeding up, that so familiar feeling of suspension until everything dropped and she was free-falling, breathing a cry into him that wasn’t loud but not exactly quiet either.

When she came back to her senses, his arms were holding her again. He still gently rocked against her, breathless, smiling. “Perhaps we shouldn’t push our luck.”

She laughed hoarsely. “Get off me then.”

He kissed her and mumbled, “Very reluctantly so,” before he put her back on her feet. “I sincerely regret not basking in the glory of your dishevelled appearance for longer. I still remember that particular morning fondly.”

The fact he always remembered her words, when she had said them, and that he had also said them to her when he had pledged the bond, immediately made her emotional.

She held on to him for a brief moment, face buried in the crook of his neck, before they heard the distinctive rattling and screeching of wheels again. He quickly righted any clothes that were out of place with a wave of his hand because this time, Mervyn actually came down their corridor.

Morpheus offered Thalia his arm, and she took it as they began to walk, hardly able to wipe the grin from her face. He was far more skilled at returning to a somewhat deadpan expression.

“Good morning, Mervyn,” he said nonchalantly in passing.

Mervyn just mumbled, “Mornin’” in his usual manner. He nodded at Thalia’s feet. “Bit cold today to walk barefoot, no?”

She could barely contain herself. “I’m used to it, all good.” Morpheus looked at her from the corner of his eye. The fact she struggled so hard not to laugh clearly got to him, and he bit back a smile.

“Hm,” Mervyn grunted before trudging down the corridor without taking further notice.

They kept walking, and Morpheus began to shake noticeably with silent laughter. Thalia felt the tears rolling down her face while biting the knuckle of her index finger so hard it started to hurt.

As they passed an alcove, he pulled her in and kissed her without warning. “Thinking of it, perhaps I do feel like pushing my luck…”

They stayed in the alcove, curled up against each other on an inbuilt banquette that was, quite strictly speaking, too small for both of them. Not that it mattered in any way.

Whenever they stopped kissing, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His index finger traced the outline of her face before it brushed over her lips, and when she began to laugh quietly because it tickled, he replaced his finger with his lips, kissed the corners of her mouth, found her yielding, and they got lost in kissing again.

“Why does loving you make me ache so deeply?”

“Good pain or bad pain?” she smiled against his lips.

“Mostly good.”

She pulled back. “So there is some bad?”

“Hm.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Morpheus sighed. “Must I?”

Thalia blinked slowly. “Well, with an opener like that, I assume you want to?”

“You answered your own question. Your incessant interrogations are painful.” He chuckled.

She looked at him and waited. The smile disappeared from his face. “I mislike verbalising these matters.”

“I know you do. And I dislike it if you don’t. Stalemate.”

Thalia couldn’t be sure if his sigh sounded annoyed or defeated. “I strongly mislike when we fight. I am left feeling angry and helpless, and I don’t know how to make it right, make it the way it should be. And I detest the sensation of not finding the right words to make you feel at ease when it should come to me easily.”

Thalia ran her thumb across his cheek. “I don’t like it either, but it has happened before, and it will happen again. Many times.”

“I am aware, and it feels wrong.”

“But it’s normal. It’s what makes it real.” He cast down his eyes at her words, and she understood a moment too late why, so she took his hands in hers. “We are a lot of things the other is not. We always will be, despite being made of the same fabric.” It occurred to her, for the briefest of moments, that while it had become an undeniable truth in one way, it also hadn’t in another, but she didn’t allow herself to linger on the thought. Thalia bowed her head to search his eyes. “Maybe that’s okay?”

“Is it though?”

“I think it is. We will work it out, as long as we talk about it.”

He raised his left eyebrow. “The mere thought of endless talking makes me shudder.”

“You’re getting there.” Thalia winked with a smile, and he kissed her hand. “Plus, make-up sex with you never disappoints.” She snorted.

Morpheus immediately dropped her hand, but the light in his eyes and the way he briefly bit his bottom lip told her far too much. “Is that so?”

She shrugged with a grin.

“You do not need to oppose me to get what you wish for.” He tried to look serious but failed miserably.

“I wouldn’t dare, and it’s not just about what I wish for.” She slid off to the floor before she hugged her knees and let her chin rest on them.

“Is it not?” Morpheus turned on his side, head on his arm, face soft, eyes shining like liquid silver. He reached out his other arm to touch her face.

She leaned into his touch. “No.”

They stayed like this for a while, just looking at each other. There was much they didn’t say out loud, and yet, they both knew what the other was thinking. She sensed what he wanted because he didn’t attempt to hide it, and what he let her see was beautiful in its unguarded vulnerability. But she also felt how hard he fought to make it real, for reasons not entirely clear to her.

“Is it okay if we close off the entrance to this space?”

He nodded, and the alcove closed shut so no one on the outside would even know it existed. Some sources of soft light, suspended in mid-air, had appeared out of nowhere to illuminate what would have otherwise been a pitch-black space.

“May I ask you to sit up?” she asked quietly.

He hesitated for a moment before he did. She gently pushed apart his knees and moved between his legs before she laid her hands flat on his clothed thighs, just looking up at him.

“I still find it difficult to see you kneel before me,” he admitted.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want.”

His voice was hoarse when he said, “I want everything you just… perceived, but I should not”

“Why not? Nothing about what you let me see felt wrong in any way.” She slowly ran her hands along his thighs. “It’s okay to find pleasure in something for no other reason than it feeling good, and it just being for you.”

“It should be for you first.”

She took his hand and laid it on the side of her face. “Then you will also understand how much I wish this to be for you, and for you only.” His eyes began brimming with tears he quickly blinked away. “Can you take off your clothes? With your hands?”

He hesitantly took off his shirt, discarded it to the floor and moved on to his jeans before he stopped. “Could you take them off for me?”

“Is it truly for you?”

“What?” His brow tied itself up in knots.

“Do you want me to take off your jeans because it is what you want me to do, or because you think it would please me to do so?”

“Those options might occasionally coincide—you asked me to disrobe, after all.” He blinked slowly with a soft smile. “It is for me because a tight space such as this makes it slightly cumbersome to fully undress myself—if I am to use my hands. Unless you would like me to be… smaller? Which could be arranged.”

Thalia snorted. “Okay, but you get what I’m trying to say?”

He apparently fought very hard not to laugh. “Yes.”

The atmosphere shifted again after Thalia had taken off the remainder of his clothes, and he sat in front of her naked.

She laid her hands on his thighs again. “What next?”

“Would you let me undress you?”

“Is it for you or me?”

“For me.”

“Why?”

“Because I wish to look at you.”

“And you can’t do that when I’m dressed?”

“I appreciate your form.”

“And you don’t when I’m dressed?”

He glanced down at his hands for the briefest of moments. His voice was muted, but he looked straight into her eyes again when he said, “It arouses me to see you naked.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“You are impossible.”

“So you keep telling me,” she said, and he just shook his head at her. “Do you want me to stand up?”

“No.” He just waved his hand, and her clothes were gone.

“Cheat.”

“My apologies.”

They smiled at each other for a moment before she resumed. “Would you like to touch yourself?”

His reply was an immediate and resounding, “No.”

She laid her hands on his. “What would you like to do?”

He stayed silent.

“Tell me, it’s okay.”

“I would like to look at you as you… I might…” He stopped himself, and his chin dipped. Thalia got on her knees again and cupped his face.

“Remember, this is for you. You don’t need to talk if you don’t want to. I’m sorry.”

Morpheus looked at her for the longest time before he leaned in to kiss her. And as he did, he took one of her hands and directed it between her legs. She felt it was difficult for him to take his hand off hers, even more difficult not to touch her directly, but she could also sense he truly wanted to watch her. She hadn’t even finished the thought when he broke the kiss and opened his eyes.

His gaze briefly flitted down between her legs before he looked into her eyes again.

Thalia began to touch herself slowly. “Face or body, what do you most wish to look at while I’m doing this?”

Morpheus laughed quietly. “So we are talking still?”

She bit her lip. “Touché. We don’t have to, but you will need to show me what you want in a way that doesn’t simply involve my reading your mind.”

“Both.”

“Talking and not talking?” Thalia grinned because she knew full well what he meant, and judging by the way he rolled his eyes at her, he knew she knew.

“I will indulge your attempt at feigning ignorance: Face and body.”

“Why?” She shifted her weight back on her free hand.

“I love looking at your face because you are beautiful when you are aroused, and it makes me want to…” He hesitated.

“Want to do what?”

Morpheus began to chuckle. “You would say, ‘want to fuck you’.”

She smiled. “And what would you say?”

“Perhaps… the same?”

“Perhaps?”

“I might not phrase it in such an uncouth manner, but the meaning remains the same.”

“Interesting that you chose what are supposedly my words. Perhaps they are not mine, after all?”

He blinked slowly with a smile that nearly made her faint. “Who will ever know.”

Thalia laughed softly. “Say it in your words.”

Morpheus pretend-sighed. Or maybe he didn’t pretend. “You are very persistent.”

“I know.”

He moved in a tiny bit closer. “Looking at your face when you are aroused makes me want to get so lost in making love to you that I do not know where I end and you begin, and I want to do it until you beg me to stop. And I cannot be certain I will be able to because it excites me beyond comprehension to make you come over and over again until you are… boneless and lose your ability to speak. Which is desirable. On occasion.”

Thalia laughed out loud. “That was both poetic and disturbing in equal measures.”

“You asked.”

“Remind me to shut up next time.”

They both glanced at each other, teetering on the edge of a laughing fit, but Thalia decided to breathe deeply and relax her face. She shifted position, and his playful expression vanished when she leaned back on one elbow and granted him full view between her legs.

She didn’t even need to cue him in this time.

“I like looking at your body while you touch yourself because it sets me alight in ways I cannot fully grasp.”

Thalia felt her control slipping. “Maybe you don’t have to.”

“All I know is that it makes me want to do the same.”

“Then perhaps you should. While you’re watching me.” She began to feel overstimulated but reigned herself back in. At least for the time being.

He closed his eyes and hesitantly ran one hand up his thigh before it came to rest between his legs. His eyes stayed shut as he closed his hand around himself, and he began to tremble.

“Only if it feels good, remember?”

He opened his eyes and steadied himself by looking at her face before he let his gaze drop between her legs again.

His strokes were slow, but he soon closed his eyes again, and his breathing began to flutter, as did his lids. She caught herself thinking how beautiful he looked, and when she did, his eyes flew open and met hers for the briefest of moments before he closed them again.

Thalia felt his mind drifting in and out of focus, and she became deeply aware she was witnessing something so sacrosanct it would stay forever etched on her mind. She immediately regretted it because her thoughts were probably loud enough for him to perceive them.

He breathed, “I am not certain I wish to...” And yet, it only lasted for a second, and he was on the verge of doing so all the same. He was completely lost in himself, eyes closed, and his control was slipping rapidly. For a moment, time stood still. Until he briefly opened his eyes, pleading yet unable to say what he needed because he was too far gone.

But she knew.

The first contact with her lips made him moan out loud, and he stopped touching himself and laid his hand on her head instead. When her mouth and hand fully closed around him, he slumped back on the banquette, and his arm flew over his face. His hand began fisting her hair, directing her until it didn’t, and he just let go.

Her free hand held his, and his fingers flexed as he released a strangled little sound. She just squeezed his hand to let him know it was okay, and he came, stilling and pulsing, muffling his cries inside the crook of his elbow, unable to stop until they were fading into sharp, stuttering inhales followed by sobbing sighs, all fluttering breath and abandoned control.

And she felt her eyes stinging with tears because she was overwhelmed and overwrought, and a million other things she could neither name nor explain.

When she looked up at him, his arm still covered his face, but he breathed, “I wish to hold you.”

Thalia got up, and he pulled her onto his lap.

He flinched with lingering sensitivity.

“Sorry,” she whispered and made a move to shift, but he just wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into her chest.

She kissed the top of his head and held him until he was ready to look at her.

The stars in his eyes were shimmering like the sea at sunset, and he spoke softly. “I am fully aware we have done this before..." He glanced at her sheepishly. "In a roundabout way. We have loved in so many ways that please me…” The pause seemed deliberate. “I apologise because I chose my words poorly. Not once have I made love to you and it was not profound and meaningful to me. It makes me feel such deep ache and love for you that I can’t breathe. Because of what making love to me does to you. Because they are your fantasies, which also makes them mine. But…” He swallowed and couldn’t go on.

“It’s okay to have some fantasies of your own. Whichever way that works. But obviously, it does.” She chuckled.

Morpheus didn’t say anything and instead pressed himself against her body again as if he wished to disappear in her embrace. He also began to get rather interested in kissing every inch of her skin he could reach.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I assume it felt good then?”

He gave her the funniest little snort before he hummed against her in response, and his voice resonated through her body.

“Good enough to do it again? With or without my being around?”

Thalia couldn’t see his smile, but she felt it.

He finally looked up at her, and when he pulled her in to kiss her, he mumbled, “It might prove helpful to show me something that is just for you.”

“Helpful?”

“Should I ever wish to conjure an image in my mind?”

This time, Thalia couldn’t help but laugh out loud and had to stop kissing him. “I never took you for someone who lacks imagination.”

He still managed to stay serious, but judging by the slight curve in his lips, only just. “Fine. I simply wish to look at you while you are doing it…”

“I’ve noticed.”

Morpheus finally smiled at her. “I apologise if that stops making it for you only.”

“Oh, I can still make it all about me, I promise. On second thought—I can’t shake the feeling I’ll have trouble not involving you in some way.”

His eyes turned dark. “We have already established that these things are not mutually exclusive. I am very interested in finding out what you come up with.”

“How can you possibly pretend, with a straight face, that you don’t already know?”

Morpheus raised one eyebrow. “Asks the woman who just taught me knowing and showing are not the same.”

“And you want me to show you right now?”

He nodded, and they stayed in that little alcove for quite a while until he sensed that his prolonged absence began to cause a stir…

Chapter Text

Mervyn busied himself, broom in hand, with sweeping up the leaves of the oak that sat in the centre of the courtyard. The bristles frequently caught on the cobblestone underfoot, made of meticulously placed stones, and he began to mumble to himself. “No idea why I’m sweeping up again, the stones take care of themselves, why don’t the bloody leaves? Should take ‘em away himself, wave his hand or somethin’… but what do I know…”

Matthew sat perched on a bench and cawed, “The roses are particularly vibrant this afternoon, eh, Merv?”

Mervyn leaned on the end of the broomstick. “Not here to talk about vibrant roses, are ya?”

Matthew was just about to say something when a bee flew past his beak, and with one snap, he ate it.

“Scoffin’ down a dream like it’s nothin’. Don’t let the boss see that.”

“Sorry,” he burped and quickly flitted over to the fountain to take a sip of water.

“Ain’t got all day, whaddya want, bird?”

Matthew hopped closer again and puffed up his feathers, seemingly weighing up his words. “Did you notice anything? I mean, about him?”

“Like what?” Mervyn grunted.

“Well, he’s not completely oblivious to his surroundings, but he seems a bit… lost in his own world?”

Merv took a cigar out of the breast pocket of his dungarees and lit it.

“Well, you don’t let the boss see that,” Matthew commented.

“As if he cared. Not at the moment anyway.”

“So you did notice?”

“The lovey-dovey thing? Yeah, caught ‘em giggling away like kids a few days ago. Well, she was anyway…”

Matthew cawed in very apparent discomfort. “That’s not what I mean. Okay, maybe, but they’re sorta… married, or whatever you guys call this shizzle, so I don’t care. But I can’t be the only one noticing that things have shifted recently? The stolen glances, the knowing smiles, the constant touches even when they work, and those… sudden disappearances? And it’s not like they’re exactly trying to hide it. Well, don’t know, they seem to make an effort to be discreet but… I mean, we’re not stupid?”

Mervyn’s eyeholes narrowed. “Hate to break it to you, bird, but we all know what those fireworks mean, right?”

“What fireworks?” Matthew shrieked, then croaked. “The aurora?! Across the night sky?!”

“Yep. Should be grateful that’s as far as displays of his hard to control feelings go these days. Could be worse. Has been worse. Could tell ya stories you’d not wanna hear.”

“What the fuck, man…”

“Precisely.”

“Merv, come on, that’s rude.”

“Not me using swear words, bird.” He blew smoke circles into the air. “Whatever makes him easier to be around is fine by me.”

“Yeah yeah, he might even get you a leaf-blower one day…” Matthew muttered.

“A what?”

“Never mind…”

Thalia stood in front of the willow in Fiddler’s Green. She simply needed a break from studying the often upsetting dream diaries of an 8-year-old girl whom she needed to visit again soon to give her some respite from her chaotic and unstable home.

Being around here had frequently felt heavy to her in the past, but today, it didn’t. A melody crept into her head that eventually began to make its way out, and Thalia soon found herself humming. Maybe even dancing, and she felt the smile on her face. It occurred to her she hadn’t danced for ages, and the last couple of times weren’t exactly happy memories—their first kiss and his subsequent shutting her out, her dancing with Hob right before Morpheus had told her everything that hurt him so deeply yet made him who he was. But today, she was happy; everything felt light and weightless, and she danced until she started to quietly laugh to herself. Which was precisely the moment she noticed him, sitting just a few feet away, watching her. And he smiled! Seeing him like this was still something she would never get used to, yet wanted to get used to it all the same.

“How long have you been watching me?” she asked and felt her face turn warm.

“Long enough, although I did not mean to. Your dancing moves me.”

“What?” A little snort made its way out.

“Exactly what I said.”

Thalia stretched out her hands with a smile.

He shook his head, but his face was soft. “I prefer watching. It is not the first time you remind me of things I thought I had long forgotten.”

She bent to take his hands. “Then maybe you should feel them instead of just thinking about them.” And with that, she pulled him up, and he didn’t really resist.

But the way he looked at her was almost shy—he could hardly meet her eyes, and she had never truly seen a smile on him that read as… bashful?

So she looped herself through his arm and ended up by his side, arms crossed in front of them, and it reminded her of that night in the gardens when he had told her everything. It still hurt, but she didn’t let the thought linger and just bumped him with her hip. The tiniest, almost inaudible laugh escaped him, and he briefly looked at her from the corner of his eye before he looked down again.

Thalia looped herself through his arm once more to face him again and lowered her head so he was forced to look at her. She put his arms around her waist before she stretched out her own to her sides and just let him hold her while she dipped herself back, one leg hooked around his waist.

“This feels precariously unstable, don’t let go,” she laughed.

“I have no intention to.” He pulled her up again and finally started to relax. Slowly. She knew he could dance, she knew he moved more gracefully than she would ever be able to. It was still a mystery to her why it was so hard for him to give in to it, why he was ultimately so reluctant, but all that mattered was that right now, he didn’t and he wasn’t.

When her arms found their way around his neck and their eyes met again, he simply said, “I envy you.”

Thalia stopped moving. “Why?”

“Because you are free. In every sense of the word.”

And for the briefest of moments, she pondered whether that was really the case, but this wasn’t the time.

“So are you.” She started to move again.

“I fear that is not true.” And the sadness returned to his eyes.

She put both hands on each side of his face. “You are when you are with me. You are right now.”

And he looked at her for the longest time until, out of nowhere, he just kissed her. Everything began to spin, all she felt was the pull, her wanting to give in to it, the tumble to the ground, fast yet in slow motion, and everything left was feeling instead of thinking…

After some breathless silence, they both began to laugh. She lifted her head to look at him. “What was that?”

He brushed her hair from her face and held it together at her nape. “You tell me. I thought you were wildly opposed to certain… activities in Fiddler’s Green?”

“I still am, but…”

“You very apparently are not,” he teased.

She raised one eyebrow. “I still am, but you attacked me.”

“I but kissed you!”

“Not my butt, you didn’t.”

“Your puns are truly awful,” he chuckled.

“Well, you’re laughing…”

“Do I need to surmise your… butt has been neglected in any way? I can make up for it should you so wish.” He squeezed her through her dress, which was thankfully just about enough in place to cover her modesty. Not that there was any modesty left to hold on to.

She began to laugh again and covered her face with her hands. “I am honestly embarrassed we did this.”

“I do not believe that is quite true.”

“No, I honestly am. Not here…”

“Fiddler’s Green is very discreet.”

“Please! I really don’t want to know. Especially not how discreet he is about what happens where, with whom and how often.” She rolled off him, still laughing, and he readjusted himself and her in the blink of an eye and with the wave of a hand.

Morpheus propped himself up on his elbow and began to gently twist a strand of her hair around his finger. “It suits you.”

“What?”

“The soft hue of embarrassment. I shall create a colour in its honour. Perhaps I will even name it after you. If you are good.”

She lightly slapped his arm, and he pulled her close again with a quiet laugh until her head came to rest on his chest.

They lay like this for a while, and Thalia’s thoughts slowly but surely began to move in a direction she didn’t want them to go, but they did so all the same.

“What troubles you?” He kept on playing with her hair.

“The fact that you like messing up my hair but never once offered to brush it.”

“That’s because it looks beautiful when it is… dishevelled. And if you wish to put it back in place, you can do so without a brush.”

She put her chin on the back of her hand and looked at him, fluttering her lashes. “But that’s not the same. It’s about the actual act of brushing.”

He frowned and then smiled. “May I?”

“Are you serious?”

“I am. Sit up.”

Thalia did as she had been told, and he positioned himself behind her, legs hooked around her waist, practically caging her in. Not that she didn’t like it, and she let go of her most inappropriate thoughts quickly before he caught on. And then he began to brush her hair with a soft-bristled brush he had manifested out of nothing, and he was astoundingly good at it: no tugging, no tearing, extremely gentle yet effective.

“I feel we just found your true purpose.”

He briefly stopped before he resumed.

And as he kept brushing, he asked her again. “Will you tell me what is troubling you? Only if you wish, I will not intrude.”

She hesitated. “How do you decide?”

“Decide what?”

“Whether you grant me privacy of my thoughts, or whether you… perceive them?”

“I always perceive them. If I sense you wish to keep them private, I choose not to let them come into focus.” He kept on brushing.

“And what about my being able to read your thoughts? Or when you decide to block me?”

He stayed quiet for a moment. “I can only grant you access to that which is safe for you.”

“Do I say thank you at this point?”

Morpheus didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I know it must be hard for you.”

“It is what I am, I don’t know it any other way.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s easy.” She turned around to look at him.

He just swallowed and briefly ran his thumb over her cheek before he gently turned her by her shoulders so he could proceed to brush. It was his way of telling her he didn’t wish to elaborate on his function.

Thalia, on the other hand, held on to the hope he would one day because she sensed his immense struggle. No, she didn’t just sense it—the days when he had locked himself away in the farthest wing of the castle and told her not to enter were always present in her mind. These days didn’t occur often, but whenever they did, she felt the unsettling stir within herself and everything that surrounded her.

She often tried to understand what it meant to witness the birth and death of stars, the evolution and extinction of species, the rise and fall of civilisations. That he had to hold all thoughts and dreams and memories of every sentient being. That he contained the imagination that created worlds, and the fears that tore at them, over and over again.

But she also knew it wasn’t as simple as that; he was shaping while being shaped, perceiving while coming into existence. And when Thalia sensed his control over the flood of images and thoughts that surged through him slipping, he locked himself away, sometimes for hours, and she felt the fabric of the Dreaming tear for the briefest of moments.

He always came back, worn, weary, still very apparently hurting but perhaps a little less so, and within a few hours, he had regained composure. But he never talked about it, and today was not the day either.

So Thalia asked what she had originally set out to ask before she got lost in thought, although she couldn’t be sure if he would be any more receptive. “I can’t stop thinking about your sister.”

He stopped brushing again, and she felt his tension. She also felt he fought it, and he kissed her head and resumed. And she was relieved, because it told her he was willing and ready to talk.

“I know how deeply it still hurts you that I died, and that it’s hard for you to let it go. But I also want you to know I belong here, and I am happy. And I would like you to at least consider that you might be happy, too?”

“I am… happy. But it doesn’t make it right they used you for their games.”

Thalia turned around again, this time for good, and he put down the brush. “I understand that. And I think what hurts you most is that they are family.” He evaded her gaze. “Look, I only know your mother and two of your siblings…”

“You know all of them.”

“Okay, as in: I’ve met them. Or whatever you want to call it. And I’m not going to discuss your mother right now because I’d rather not, but your sisters seem… alright?”
“And powerful and dangerous.” He took her hands. “I know it is hard to comprehend, but none of my siblings are what they might seem to you. They are not human.”
“Neither are you, and yet, here we are. Besides, you are all of that, too—powerful and dangerous, and a million other things. But you have never asserted power over me that I wasn’t submitting to willingly, or because I understood there was no other way. Well, at least not that I know of.” He noisily exhaled through his nose, which made her chuckle. “You know you do that when I irritate you, right?”

He ignored her attempt at being lighthearted. “How can I make it any clearer that Delirium is not what she might seem to you?”

“But she is your sister, and she asked for your help. That’s completely unconnected to what happened to me, and you shouldn’t make it about me.”

“Even if it were not about you: What she is proposing is ill-conceived. Our brother left us a long time ago. He would rather not be found, and hence we will not find him. I cannot think of a single good reason to pursue this foolish idea.”

“Other than it would let you be closer to her? And her to you? Perhaps mend a rift instead of making it deeper?”

He removed his hands from hers, and a slight edge of irritation began to ring in his voice. “We are not human siblings. Our relationships are in no way comparable. We are all best advised to stay out of each others’ realms and affairs.”

Thalia didn’t know what else to say, so she stayed quiet.

They sat in awkward silence for a while. The fact he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose told her how stressed he truly was, even if he had tried to keep it in check until now.

She laid her hands on his thighs, and he, out of nowhere, chortled before he opened his eyes to look at her.

“That’s not what I’m thinking of, get your mind out of the gutter,” she laughed.

His face softened, and he put his hands on hers. “I know you did not, but I did. I apologise.”

She shook her head with a grin before she turned serious again. “Can I say one final thing?”

“Do I have a choice?”

She tilted her head left and right and wrinkled her nose.

He blinked with a smile. “Go ahead.”

Thalia chewed on her lip for a moment. “When we were in the kitchen, and I came back out of the pantry, I saw you two sitting together. And you did look like human siblings, and I saw something in you that I hadn’t seen before.”

“And what would that be?” He frowned.

“A kind of affection so vastly different from the one you show me…” Morpheus opened his mouth to retort, but she kept on talking. “It was almost…paternal?” He cast down his eyes, and she immediately regretted her choice of words. “Protective in a different kind of way. You are protective when you are with me, too, and it drives me up the wall at times, but that’s not it.”

“I am her brother, not her father. And she does not need protection.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t mean that I didn’t feel that type of affection between you. And I do think you love each other. In your own, strange way.” He didn’t react in any shape or form. “I know how deeply you love, and it’s not exclusive to me.” She held on to his hands tighter. “Will you at least think about it?”

Morpheus just sighed…

Chapter Text

Dream paced his gallery, and his footsteps echoed in the silence. On one hand, he knew Thalia was right, that his siblings’ involvement in her death had nothing to do with what Delirium had asked of him. But there was also a sinking feeling, a premonition, an intuition they should not look for the Prodigal. Even if he set aside all his presentiments, his sister was chaotic and irrational, and spending any amount of time with her would drive him to distraction. And that very thought made him smile, only to be overcome with a hint of sadness a moment later. He found himself wondering if he had hurt her by just walking out on her when she had reached out to him, trusted him, had shown what he, in hindsight, could only perceive as genuine care for his happiness.

Perhaps he had stopped to show he cared, because showing he cared had always made him vulnerable, and vulnerability was something he could not afford.

Or perhaps he could?

He became aware of how painfully human these thoughts were, and a brief moment of doubt as to their feasibility entered his mind. None of this was sagacious or in any way rational.

Dream reached for Delirium’s sigil, but he hesitated, hand hovering midair. He should not search for their missing brother with her, and the discomfort about it was so deep-rooted that it felt unwise not to heed his intuition. But perhaps he should at least apologise to her, tell her he had acted unjustly and rashly. Tell her that he cared about her, but that he had a duty to maintain order and balance in his realm, that he did not have time for whims and distractions. And he scoffed at his thoughts, because he had all the time in the world, and he was the very essence of whims and distractions, so what exactly made him so uneasy?

The way his brother had abandoned his realm had created a rift in the family that had never healed. And although the Prodigal did not want to be found, and trying to find him was a bad idea by all intents and purposes, Dream also had to admit to himself that he wondered how he was. If he, at some point, might take up his mantle again.

No matter, what was he even musing about? They would not find him, he had abandoned his duties, he did not care about anyone but himself, and that was that. A slight prickle of annoyance resurfaced, and it was better to stop thinking about him.

His sister, however, was a different matter. She had her struggles, but she cared—in her own way, and he could not help but wonder if she sometimes cared too much, a thought that made him soften to her. And perhaps, she even genuinely cared about him, and Thalia was right?

He sighed and finally picked up her sigil.

“Delirium, I stand in my gallery and hold your sigil. Will you answer me?”

He waited. Nothing.

And once again, he thought to himself that it was probably a sign that he should just leave it be. But he couldn’t, and the words fell out of his mouth before he had even turned them over in his mind.

“My sister, I know you can hear me, and I would… I want to apologise. I treated you poorly, and it was not my intention to hurt your feelings. And I understand if you do not wish to answer my call. But it is important to me you know I regret we parted on less than favourable terms.”

“You did the apologising thing the last time. And then you were still horrible. So how do I know it means anything? And that you won’t be mean again?”

He felt a slight smile tug at the corners of his mouth at hearing her voice. “I think you will just need to… trust me?”

Delirium came through within a split second, hair dancing, each strand a stroke of colour that seemed to stand on end in defiance. She put her hands on her hips, and her locks seemed to mirror her current mood.

“You ask me to trust you when you would never do the same. When did you ever trust me?”

The choker of crystal beads around her neck strained, and prismatic rays of light sent a surge of blinding brightness into Dream’s eyes. She might as well have slapped him, and it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, she had. And once again, he felt an overwhelming need to smile because maybe, just maybe, he deserved it. That he even found the thought amusing rather than offensive seemed... peculiar, but here they were.

And when Delirium noticed, it immediately stopped her rant in its tracks. “Why are you smiling? What’s funny? Soooo… I’m a joke to you now. Ha ha, not laughing.”

Dream took a hesitant step towards her, face still soft. “I am not laughing at you, my sister. I was just thinking that… I fully deserve your anger, and once again, I wish to apologise for my behaviour.”

Delirium eyed him with suspicion, but her hair had returned to a slightly less wild do. She began twisting her leg on the ball of her foot. “Accepted.” She still sounded like a surly teenager, but it was a start.

They stood in awkward silence for a while, and Dream felt bound by memories etched into his very being.

He finally chose to speak. “We were once, when you were younger, and so was I, stitched together like… constellations. And like stars might realign, what seems like a broken orbit could perhaps be… mended by…”

Delirium looked at him with knitted brows. “You always make everything so complicated. Even your words are complicated. Making amends is not starry, or breaky like some… like spider’s silk and frayed threads and tiptoeing and eggshells. See, I can do that too, the complicated word thing. But it’s just silly. I just want you to be my brother and stop being angry at me and…”

Dream rolled his eyes. “Where does this idea that I am perpetually angry come from?”

She forced one eye shut and wrinkled her nose. “Because it seems like it?”

He exhaled loudly.

“You do that a lot when you’re grumpy. The noisy breath through your nose.”

Dream snorted, which made Delirium perk up. “Ha, you don’t do that a lot, the snorty laugh thing. I like it.”

“I was just reminded why you and Thalia seem to get along.” He inclined his head with a raised brow. “In a sisterly manner, not in any way related to your function.”

“She’s alright.”

He smiled. “I am aware.”

Delirium sat down on the floor, legs crossed. “I know you know, but you didn’t believe me when I said I liked her for you. And that I wanted to help you. And her.”

Dream sat down with her, legs equally crossed. “I can see that now. I would like you to know that I appreciate the sentiment. And that I am willing to let go of my complicated… feelings around the issue, at least where they concern you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Delirium bumped his leg with her foot. Not too hard. “And now what? Can you come with me now? To look for our brother?”

He hesitated. “I still think it is a foolish idea to look for him if he would rather not be found. And I strongly suggest you consider that possibility.”

“Pleeeaase? I want to find him. I really, really miss him.” Her mismatched eyes were pooling with tears, turquoise shallows near the shore, lightning across the deep sea. “I could go and find him on my own, but I get lost kind of easily, and sometimes I have really bad days when, you know, I just want to hide or scream or bleed or something…”

Dream sighed deeply. “Promise me this: If we don’t find him within a reasonable amount of time, will you let it rest? For good?”

She nodded excitedly, tears still streaming down her face. “Pinkie swear.” And then she locked hers with his.

Dream looked at their hands and their interlaced fingers. “I will talk to Lucienne to make all necessary arrangements…”

“I’m so glad you’re doing this for her,” Thalia said.

His face clouded over. “I am still not convinced I am doing the right thing.”

She sat on his lap and brushed his hair from his brow. “What worries you?”

He shook his head, gaze fixed on some invisible spot on the wall. “Just a presentiment.” His eyes reconnected, and he smiled, but it seemed forced. “No matter. It will be a brief diversion, nothing more.”

“How brief?”

“Brief enough.” His face finally lit up, and the smile was real. “Are you missing me already?”

“I wish you’d let me come with you, but I understand.”

“You should not walk the waking world. Not anymore.”

“Considering it’s definitely possible from all I know, that’s not really the reason though, is it?”

“You got me. It is not. I simply don’t deem it a good idea you get too involved in family matters…” He wrapped his arms around her tighter when he noticed the look on her face. “And I do not wish to imply you are not family. All I am trying to say is that some things are best left between those involved. Alas, I hope it won’t come to that. We will not find him, and Delirium will probably lose interest fairly quickly.”

Thalia ran one finger over his chest. “So… do I get an advance?”

“An advance of what?” He frowned.

She snorted. “Sometimes, you are incredibly slow on the uptake. Especially for someone who can read minds.”

He blinked slowly. “Oh, I am fully aware of your concupiscent thoughts, but what makes you think you will need an advance? I am but a step away from the Dreaming. Should you need me, you only have to call.”

“And how do I do that? You are in the middle of whatever, and I just go: ‘Can you come home, I feel like jumping your bones’?”

Morpheus cast down his eyes and bit back a smile. When he looked at her again, the stars in his eyes were shimmering in the most beautiful amber hue. “I feel inclined to say it is precisely how it works.”

She shifted position and straddled him. “I would hate to interrupt your travels too frequently, so I fear the advance is still due.”

“Perhaps it could be arranged.” His hands ran over her flanks, and her clothes were gone. “Did you have anything particular in mind?”

“Well, you recently told me you would like to get lost in making love to me until I beg you to stop. And threatened you couldn’t be certain if you would stop because it… what were your words again?”

His clothes were already gone at this point. “My words were: ‘It excites me beyond comprehension to make you come over and over again until you are boneless and lose your ability to speak.’”

“And how long would that take? Do we have enough time to… build up that kind of credit?”

“It would depend on when you start to beg.” He kissed her shoulder while tracing her collarbone with his index finger.

“And do you think it would last me until you’re back?”

“Unlikely.” He exhaled when she lowered herself. “However, I fear I will feel far more dejected than you.”

“Perhaps it is you who needs the advance then.”

She found herself on her back within a flash. “I am afraid it would never be enough.” He began to move slowly and got lost in her eyes. “I shall miss you terribly.”

She wrapped her legs around him. “Even my incessant talking?”

“Especially your incessant talking.”

“I will remind you the next time you complain.” She pulled him into a kiss and murmured, “Speaking of which: Whatever happened to making me lose my ability to speak?”

His lips curled up against hers. “Ready?”

Everything felt slightly heavy with anticipation. Delirium was nowhere to be seen, but it was easy enough to hear her since she was singing at the top of her lungs. Something about holding her little hand, running, crawling and being sent on her way.

Thalia was standing barefoot, as she did most days, and the polished marble floor felt unusually cold once more. Morpheus put on his coat, and when their glances briefly met, his eyes seemed filled with the weight of responsibility, but also with love, care, and even a glimmer of adventure.

Her fingers began clutching at her dress, and although she had been the one who had told him to go, she now struggled to maintain her composure. They had said their goodbyes in their chambers because they would rather not put on a big emotional display, but she felt her control slipping and was overcome with a bad feeling out of nowhere.

Lucienne’s voice thankfully took her out of her contemplation. “When can we expect you to be back, sire?”

“When my sister loses interest in the quest, as she will.” He briefly looked at Thalia. “Or when I lose interest, and I wish to return.”

“Or when you have found your brother?” Lucienne enquired.

He exhaled. “It won’t happen.”

Lucienne’s eyes darted in Thalia’s direction before she took a step toward him and lowered her voice. Needless to say, Thalia still heard her all too well. “My lord, are you sure this is wise?”

Morpheus folded his arms behind his back. “We will see a few people, a few sights. Should you need me here, you only have to call. I see no reason to worry.”

“But sire…”

He shut her down. “You worry too much, Lucienne. I have noticed this before. This is completely straightforward.”

Lucienne raised her chin. “Whatever you say, my lord.” As he turned towards Thalia, she repeated under her breath, “Whatever you say.”

Thalia tried to smile, but her eyes had begun to well up. Morpheus took her hands in his. She could tell that seeing her emotional made him emotional, and she hated herself for it. He bowed his head and chose to keep his words private instead of saying them out loud. “It hurts me to leave you here, on your own, and part of me wishes I had never agreed to go. So know this: Should you need me, at any point, please call.”

She just nodded with a laboured smile, blinking away her tears. As she briefly buried her face in his chest, she whispered, “I won’t be on my own, don’t worry about me.”

Morpheus gently pulled her back by her shoulders. “But I do.” He got lost in her eyes briefly before he seemed to consciously snap himself out of it and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

It was precisely at this moment Delirium tumbled into the hall. Slightly chaotic but somewhat determined, and she exclaimed, “To adventure, brother!”

Morpheus rolled his eyes, and Thalia tried to keep the laugh that was making its way out contained behind curled fingers around her nose.

He gave Thalia a brief nod. “We shall be on our way then.”

Delirium stepped towards her. “You know, we’ll be fine. We’ll take care of each other, we’ll be all good. It’ll be fun!”

“No doubt,” she smiled.

He sounded slightly tetchy when he said, “Delirium, are you coming?”

“Coming!” she called and skipped after him while giving Thalia and Lucienne a final wave before they disappeared.

“They will be alright, won’t they?” Thalia asked.

Lucienne frowned. “I sincerely hope so…”

Chapter Text

Thalia and Lucienne walked side by side after Morpheus and his sister had left.

“Lucienne, would you mind if we talked about a few things concerning the Lord’s absence?”

Lucienne looked at her from the corner of her eye. “Certainly. Were you thinking of the library or…?”

“Anywhere you like. Maybe somewhere… not so formal?” She hesitated for a moment. “Do you drink coffee?”

Lucienne smiled, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Sometimes.”

“I think I know just the place…”

Thalia took Lucienne to a warmly lit room a few doors down from her chambers. It even had a somewhat modern-looking kitchenette, and she had no idea why it existed in the first place, but she sometimes went there to just sit and drink… coffee. A habit she had never dropped, and Morpheus regularly made fun of her for it. Just ever so slightly of course.

Thalia came back to the table with two mugs of coffee and put one of them down in front of Lucienne. She suddenly felt uncomfortable and overdressed in her midnight blue dress and manifested a coarsely knit cardigan to wrap around herself. That still didn’t feel right, so she ended up in blue jeans and a black T-shirt. Lucienne looked at her questioningly.

“Sorry, just not particularly good at this whole ‘Lady Thalia’-business, it’s all a bit weird. I’m happy wearing these dresses, and they just seem to appear on me most of the time, but some days, it still feels off. Then again, my old garb doesn’t feel right either.”

“You are doing just fine, my lady.” She looked at her over the rims of her glasses. “Regarding what you were planning to talk about—will I need to take notes?”

Thalia turned the mug between her hands. “I doubt that will be necessary.” She looked up. “Lucienne, I encouraged Lord Morpheus to go with his sister, and all of a sudden, it weighs heavily on my mind that it might have been… ill-advised? I had hoped it would bring him and Lady Delirium closer, and now I’m not sure if I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

Lucienne leaned back in her chair. Thalia found it hard to tell if she looked at her with concern or annoyance. “To be completely honest with you, my lady—I do feel a bit restless about this whole idea.”

Thalia felt like her intuition had just been confirmed. “Shit.” She bit her lip. “Pardon my French, but I swear like a coal miner, maybe that’s something you should know about me.”

“I think I already do.”

Thalia leaned forward, and her hands nervously began to turn her mug again. “Is there any reason to be concerned? Or anything I should know?”

Lucienne cleared her throat in a very apparent attempt to organise her thoughts. “I should probably address the predicament that is the relationship with his brother. He chose to abdicate his function, to leave his realm behind…”

“That’s possible?” Thalia knitted her brows.

“I firmly believe Lord Morpheus would argue to the contrary. I am not entirely privy as to the exact details why his brother grew weary. Perhaps he simply decided that especially humanity had surpassed the need for his… involvement.”

Thalia didn’t understand. “But why the sudden reluctance?”

“Perhaps he believed that destruction is an essential counterpart to creation, but it would go on without him regardless? That he simply wanted nothing to do with it anymore?”

Thalia felt a wave of irritation and sadness making its way right into her face. “Then where is the fucking point? Why does Morpheus… his lordship, endure all of this pain, and why does he care so much that he hurts himself in the process?”

“Maybe because Lord Morpheus is not his brother?” Lucienne’s face softened. “He has always remained steadfast in letting dreams be the beacon of hope that guides everyone through the most uncertain of times. He would never let the dreamers down.”

The truth hurt more than comfort. Thalia gripped her mug so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “Would it be advisable if they found their brother? Or is he right in assuming that they won’t anyway?”

Lucienne sighed. “I must say I always quite liked him, and part of me hopes they will. But the strain on his relationship with Lord Morpheus remains, and it is not for me to judge whether that type of fracture can be mended.”

“Too many fractures altogether, it’s just… ” Thalia whispered before she caught herself. But Lucienne's sharp gaze had already found her.

“You are thinking of something else entirely, aren’t you?”

Thalia shuffled in her seat uneasily. “I’m shit at hiding things, aren’t I?”

Lucienne raised her eyebrows with a slight smile. “Well, it’s hard to hide anything around here, but you are not making any particular effort whatsoever.”

Something just broke loose inside of her. “I… You know, he sometimes seems so lost, so absolutely haunted by something.” She swallowed hard. "I think it has to do with his son."

The change in Lucienne was immediate. Her entire body went rigid, and she focused on the far corner of the room. "My lady, that is not territory I can…”

Thalia reached across the table and put her hand on Lucienne’s. “Please.” Her eyes reconnected, warm yet wary. “He won’t talk about it, and I don’t know what else to do. And it… hurts.” She held on to her hand tightly. “Please…”

Lucienne sighed and seemed to hesitate for a long time, clearly torn. “Do you know the story of Orpheus?”

Thalia frowned. “Who doesn’t?” A sudden sense of dread descended upon her, and her eyes opened wide. “You’re not trying to tell me that Orpheus is his son, are you?” Lucienne’s silence was answer enough. “Oh my God, no…”

Lucienne looked down at her hands. “Fate wasn’t kind, as it often is not.” Her words seemed too measured and precise, which made it all the more painful. "Eurydice died on their wedding day, and Orpheus was consumed by grief. It seems he and Lord Morpheus disagreed about the… natural order of things. About life and death and the boundaries in between. Suffice it to say, he descended into the underworld and pleaded with Hades and Persephone to release her, but…” Her voice trailed off.

“He looked back.” Thalia knew the myth, but its ending now felt like ashes in her mouth.

Lucienne nodded. “Twice bereaved. Twice broken. He lived alone after that, but he was barely existing. And then one morning…” She stopped herself. “My lady, I’m really not sure whether I should…”

“I need to know.” Thalia was acutely aware that her voice sounded as if it didn’t even belong to her.

“The Maenads found him. He had refused to worship Dionysos, and they…” She closed her eyes. "They tore him limb from limb and threw his head into the river Hebrus.”

Thalia felt her fingers go rigid. “But… Morpheus told me he is still alive.”
“Immortality,” Lucienne readjusted her glasses, “is not always a gift. Sometimes, it is the cruellest curse imaginable.” It was the first time Thalia saw tears in Lucienne’s eyes, and despite talking about Orpheus, she couldn’t be entirely certain about what or for whom. The moment was short-lived, and she quickly blinked them away. A sense of horror so profound took hold of Thalia that she could barely get out any words. When she finally could, they sounded brittle. “Can’t Death release him, give him peace?” She felt her own eyes welling up with tears. For Orpheus, for Morpheus, about the impossible weight of loving someone whose pain runs too deep.

“I do not know, my lady.” Lucienne shook her head gently. “I fear the answer might be no.”

They sat in silence for a while, and Thalia felt physically sick—a feeling she hadn’t experienced since she had died.

She began rotating her mug again. The coffee was cold by now, and it wouldn’t have been a problem to reheat it with a wave of her hand, but she was incapable of drinking it anyway. “He tried to tell me. A while back. And he couldn’t. But that pain is always with him. I can sense it, almost as if it were my own, but I can’t help him. And it wrecks me.”

Lucienne put her elbows on the table and leaned on them. “My lady, it is not for you to help him.”

“But I should. I promised to be there for him.”

“And that’s what you are, and that’s what you do. But…” She looked down, obviously searching for the right words. “I have known him for a very long time. A very long time. And all I can tell you is that you will never be able to solve his problems for him, nor should you. Because it will devastate you if you as much as try.” She paused for a moment, and there was an unspoken heaviness in that pause. “But you can walk beside him. You bear witness. That is enough; it has to be.”

Thalia put her head in her hands and whispered, “Sometimes, I’m not sure it is.”

One day blurred into the next. Petitions heard, grievances addressed, and the weight of unfamiliar and unwanted authority began to settle on Thalia’s shoulders uneasily. Listening to the denizens of the Dreaming helped her to take her mind off Morpheus’ absence, but it still didn’t come naturally to her. Lending an open ear felt mostly okay. Being the current embodiment of some sort of authority, not so much. So she decided to delegate what she could to Lucienne. She trusted her, she knew she could rely on her counsel—and so did Morpheus, even if he sometimes found it hard to admit. Lucienne was so much more than the royal librarian. Morpheus had not given her the topaz for nothing; it was recognition of how essential she was to the Dreaming's very foundation. In a way, Thalia was just honouring Morpheus’ faith in Lucienne, and nothing about it felt wrong.

She also knew she could call on him if all else failed. Which she didn’t want to because she was sure he had enough on his plate. Or maybe he didn’t, who knew? There was the slight possibility he even enjoyed himself, provided his sister hadn’t already driven him to distraction. Then again, he was used to it because he regularly had to put up with Thalia, her incessant talking and everything about her that irritated him. The thought made her snort, and she was grateful it happened during a moment when nobody was watching.

But every time she was alone in her chambers and felt safe enough to truly think about him deeply, she missed him. Even now that they were apart, she could feel him, but in an entirely different way. When he was with her, the connection was strong; it was always present, unless he chose to shut her out. A part of her was now tied to the very fabric of the Dreaming, which was an extension of him, and it just made it hurt all the more.

And right now, she felt that connection. But while it was still strong, it pulled at her, made her feel like only part of a whole, incomplete, with something integral and essential missing. And she hated it, because in life, she had never been like this. She had always been independent, perhaps to her own detriment. And the feeling of being so deeply connected, or being incomplete, hurt. It made her feel small and powerless. It was a never-known weakness she didn’t want to give in to.

She had encouraged him to lean into his vulnerability so many times, yet here she was, unwilling and unable to reach across the space between them. The irony wasn't lost on her; why on earth did she find it so hard? All she wanted right now was to talk to him, and he had told her it would be fine if she needed to. And yet, she waited. For his return, for resolution, for the courage to bridge the distance—whatever came first…

Chapter Text

Thalia’s heart was pounding in her chest, and she smelled smoke and ash, followed by the taste of bile. It was so strong that she thought for a minute she might need to throw up. She pinched the back of her hand several times to snap herself out of it, but the sense of dread would not dissipate. Feeling faint, she lay down and took a couple of breaths. It was what her body remembered to do, and yet, it made no sense. And while she tried to regain control of all the sensations that were coursing through her body, she saw flashes of red and orange, heard the crackling of a fire, felt the heat. Something terrible was happening, but she didn't know what it was. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate to see more clearly, her body and mind fought it, and the images stayed blurry and chaotic. All she knew was that it was connected to Morpheus, and the sense of helplessness and panic was so strong that she began to shake.

For several minutes, she attempted to calm herself down, walked up and down like a caged animal, even splashed water into her face in the rarely used bathroom. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get over it. And as much as she hated herself for it, she finally decided to reach out to him.

Thalia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt a tingling sensation in her fingertips, as if a thousand tiny sparks were dancing on her skin. Trying to focus, insecurity crept up on her because she had never truly done this before. She scoffed at her thoughts.

Of course you have. How do you think you found him in your dreams, silly cow?

So she truly opened her mind to find the literal crack in the barrier that separated them, which wasn’t a barrier at all, and she knew it full well. She whispered his name, hesitantly at first, hoping he could hear her. Or feel her. Or anything really.

And she could sense him almost immediately, so the words just began to fall out of her mouth. “I didn’t want to do this, I didn't mean to disturb you, but can you please tell me you’re okay?”

It took him a while to truly connect with her, and he seemed… confused?

“I am fine. But are you?” The mix of concern and… flatness in his voice alarmed her; why, she scarcely understood.

“I… I don’t really know. I had this really strong vision of a fire, and it was almost like I was right in the middle of it all, but I also wasn’t. It was suffocating; I could taste it and feel the heat. And I was genuinely scared and worried about you.”

“You need not worry. Fire won’t harm me, you should know.”

“Yes, I do know, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried about you. Especially not since I can feel what you feel half of the time, and I hate to break it to you: This didn’t feel right. And simply stating matter-of-factly that fire won’t harm you still doesn’t tell me what’s going on. And something is going on, I just know. So will you tell me what it is?”

He sighed. “There was a fire. Well, there is a fire…”

“What?! Right now?” Her throat seemed to close.

“I believe the problem is being looked into.”

“What do you mean, ’it’s being looked into’? Are you trying to tell me it’s still burning?”

“Yes.”

Thalia lost her cool. Not that she had felt particularly in control in the first place. “This feels like pulling teeth. What’s going on?”

“Our driver…” He stayed silent for a moment that felt too long. Just when Thalia was about to lose her patience, he resumed. “She fell asleep smoking. Perhaps I should have noticed, but I was… distracted.” He spoke quietly. “She died. We were responsible for her, and we failed her.”

Thalia noticed how much he tried to keep his voice in control, but he didn’t succeed. Or maybe he just wasn’t able to hide it from her.

“If she fell asleep smoking, it’s not your fault, please don’t do this to yourself.”

“It might have been an accident that the fire started in her room. As much as it might have been a coincidence that the person we were supposed to see yesterday got hit by a falling building…”

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

He smiled wearily. “What difference would it make? Why would I worry you?”

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m worried anyway, and not telling me about stuff like that isn’t helping. Neither me nor you.”

“Lucienne is already looking into the matter. Again: Please stop worrying.”

Thalia felt his growing irritation. The walls that had lowered so agonisingly slowly and gradually since they had first met were coming up, and it was obvious to her he wouldn’t discuss the matter any further. And as much as she wanted to understand, it also hurt that he shut her out yet again.

“Can you come home? Just for tonight?”

He stayed silent for the longest time. “I fear I would never resume the journey if I did, so my answer has to be no.”

“Please?”

“Thalia, my answer is no, and it will stay no. And that is the last of it.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am fine, but I will need to find my sister. We will talk later.”

“When?”

“When I am willing and able.”

“But you promised you would…”

He was already gone.

Thalia couldn’t believe it. No, that wasn’t quite true, she could. And as much as it hurt that he had gone back on his promise to come home if she asked him to, that wasn’t even the main problem. It was his inability to communicate when he was distressed. Or did he try to protect her?

A million thoughts were going through her mind, and all of them were painful. And the worst was that she knew he was hurting, that he denied it, and that he wouldn’t let her be with him.

Of course they didn’t talk later. Thalia waited and waited, until it was morning. Until morning turned into noon. Until she didn’t want to wait anymore.

However, she also knew it was pointless to ask him again. His refusal to talk when he didn’t deem it necessary for whatever reason was something she found very hard to get used to, but it was what it was, and she had known so from the start. And yet, some deep part of her felt disappointed, because she thought they had moved past it.

Eventually, she went looking for Lucienne or Matthew because she knew that if he would talk to someone, it would be either her or him. Probably under the guise of something needing to be organised, done, or researched in some way.

And it was Matthew she ran across first.

“Hey, boss lady,” he croaked.

She raised her eyebrows. “Matthew, nothing between us has changed. Please stop addressing me in that silly way. I’m neither your boss nor do I like honourifics. Bad enough I have to put up with them now half of the time, but please do me a favour and…”

“But you’re the boss’s… lady?” he mused.

“That’s even worse! That sounds like I’m some… appendix and…” She stopped herself and immediately thought how incomplete she had just felt a mere couple of days—no, hours—ago, and she couldn’t help but find the thought painful. And maybe even a tad embarrassing.

Matthew eyed her with a tilted head. “Everything okay?”

“Hm?” She refocused on him.

“You seem preoccupied.”

Thalia sighed. “In all honesty, I am. Morpheus and I talked last night, and something just isn’t right. There was a fire, someone died, and…”

“Someone fucking died?!” He flapped his wings.

“Two people so far apparently, I honestly have no clue what’s going on, and I’d hoped he might have…” she cast down her eyes briefly before she looked at him again, “talked to you? Or Lucienne? Or anyone really, because I’m the last person he wants to worry, and I just don’t think he…” She didn’t even know what else to say.

Matthew hopped closer. “Afraid not. He’s not a talker, I think we all know that, right?”

Thalia just nodded with a forced smile. And just as she was about to leave, they both jumped.

“Matthew?”

Thalia and the raven looked at each other in a slight panic.

Matthew puffed up his plumage before he shook. “Boss, is that you?”

“I am afraid so.”

Thalia swallowed hard. Did he think they overstepped again, like all that time ago in the throne room? Was he really always around and listened?

But he didn’t seem to take any notice of her, although he undoubtedly knew she was there, and it was both maddening and heartbreaking. “Matthew, when you were a man, were you able to drive a motor vehicle?”

Thalia snorted. “You mean a car?”

Morpheus sounded slightly on edge. “Yes, that is precisely what I mean, Thalia.”

“I’m glad you’re not calling me by my full name; otherwise I’d know I’m in deep shit. At this stage, I assume I should be grateful you’re talking to me at all?” She regretted provoking him the very same moment.

But to her surprise, he laughed quietly and simply said, “Apologies,” which was slightly infuriating to be frank, before addressing his raven again. “So… can you drive a car, Matthew?”

Matthew made a strange clicking noise and cleared his throat. “Um… I killed myself drink-driving, didn’t I?”

Morpheus groaned. “I am not convinced that is any recommendation. However, you will need to advise my sister on the particulars of… vehicle management. Or ‘driving a car’, whichever you prefer.”

Thalia just didn’t care anymore. “I’ll do it. I can drive. And I didn’t kill myself, or anyone else for that matter, attempting to do so.”

The tone in Morpheus’ voice was unforgiving. “No, that is completely out of the question.”

“Why? It doesn’t bear any more risk to me than it does to Matthew, right? And I am probably a better driver.” Her eyes briefly darted toward him. “Sorry, Matthew.”

“No offence taken,” he cawed and blinked nervously. “She has a point, boss.”

“I said no, I do not wish…”

“You and your pig-headed stubbornness,” she interrupted him. “For once, let me help you! It will probably speed the whole thing up, too. And by that, I don’t mean how fast I drive.”

Morpheus stayed quiet for a moment. “Fine, but you will immediately return if I say so…”

“We’ll see…”

“No, we won’t. If I say so, you will, and I am not saying this in jest.” She could tell by the sound of his voice he meant it, and it left her slightly angry. “And for that reason, you will come, too, Matthew. In case we need a…”

“Backup plan, sure, boss,” Matthew threw in.

Thalia felt immeasurable relief. Not just because she would finally be with him, but also because he let her, even if it had taken some convincing.

It only took a moment until she and Matthew were in the Waking on… the grass verge of a motorway? Thalia looked around frantically. What she assumed would be the car she was supposed to drive was parked on the hard shoulder behind a police car that had clearly pulled Morpheus and Delirium over. And the cop sat on the ground, scratching, wailing, trying to get rid of something.

“What the fuck happened?” Thalia asked, wide-eyed.

“He is troubled by delusory insects,” Morpheus commented dryly.

“Delusory insects?”

He somewhat looked past her. “I told you my sister is not the harmless young woman you seem to see in her.”

Delirium and Matthew were engrossed in talking to each other. Or introducing themselves. Or both; Thalia had no clue, and she didn’t particularly care either. Everything seemed ridiculous and unreal, and yet, she was in the waking world where everything should feel real.

She hesitantly stepped in front of Morpheus to force him to look at her. When he finally did, he exhaled deeply, but his voice was soft. “You should not be here.”

Thalia lightly brushed his hand, but he didn’t reciprocate her touch. “I’m trying to help. I’ll just drive and…”

“The last person who drove is dead.”

“I know, and I wish you would have told me sooner.”

“It does not concern you.”

She cupped his face. “Everything that concerns you concerns me! How would you feel if it were the other way around? If I were hurting, if I had problems and pretended I didn’t?”

The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly, but his eyes still betrayed a deep sadness. “The difference is you would not be able to hide it from me? I would always know. If I… deemed it necessary.”

Thalia rolled her eyes at him. “And you call that fair? Or in any way… wise to always keep everything to yourself?”

“Mostly yes.” And he didn’t smile when he said it, which made her heart break into a thousand pieces.

“Well, I don’t, but I’m fully aware you don’t agree, so we might as well end this conversation and start driving.” She nodded towards the car and the cop. “What is going to happen to him?”

“That is outside my purview, I am afraid. You would need to ask my sister.”

She sighed. “Okay.” And just as she started to move to have a word with her, Morpheus held on to her arm. “What?”

He pulled her back and put both hands on each side of her head. Within a split second, she had no idea where they were, although it seemed like it was still the grass verge, only that it had turned into a bright blue before it changed to red. The sky had turned into a deep shade of purple, but it was also orange and cloudy, and bright and dark at once. She was struck with a heavy scent of flowers that were nowhere to be seen, and the ground seemed to destabilise right beneath her feet. The only constant was he, and the way he looked at her.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Granting us some privacy for a moment.” And with that, he just kissed her. Softly at first.

Thalia smiled against his lips. “What’s that for?” The kiss became deeper, and his voice was in her head. “For caring about me so deeply even when you shouldn’t.”

She broke the kiss. “Leave whom I should care about and when to me, okay?”

Morpheus nodded with a slight twitch of his nose, which made her laugh. “May I kiss you then simply because I have missed you?”

Thalia shrugged with a smile. “I guess so.”

“You guess?” He pulled her in again and didn’t even wait for her reply. And within seconds, they both became so lost in each other that Thalia just felt the overwhelming wish to be home, in the Dreaming, with him. Quite possibly in bed, but any place would do.

And this time, it was he who broke the kiss, breathing heavily, trying not to laugh. “Perhaps these matters are best left for another time.”

She exhaled audibly through pursed lips. “I hope it won’t be too long.”

He kissed her again, more controlled, and murmured, “I think I can wait.”

“Good for you, but I’m not billions of years old and sometimes feel more urgency.”

“You have absolutely no idea how much urgency I feel. Perhaps I am just better at controlling it than you.”

Thalia pulled back, crinkled up her nose and shook her head. “Liar.”

Morpheus embraced her in reply and kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

He didn’t say it often, but when he did, she knew he meant it. He never used words lightly, and they were never cheap. She just held on to the moment a bit longer before she said, “You make it very hard for me.”

He chuckled. “Shall we go then?”

Thalia nodded, and with that, they stepped away from each other ever so slightly and were back on a grass verge that looked as if it actually belonged in the waking world.

Delirium was sitting in the driver’s seat of the convertible. Quite strictly speaking, she was half-hanging over the side of the door while her legs were dangling over the backrest, and Thalia briefly wondered if her spine was made of rubber.

Morpheus walked towards the car. “Please sit in the back seat, Delirium, Thalia will drive.”

She blew a raspberry. “I don’t want to drive anymore anyway. We could have gone through Tiffany’s head, you know?”

Thalia knitted her brows. “What does that even mean?”

Morpheus interjected. “I don’t think so. We will travel as intended.”

Delirium climbed over the seat and let herself plop on the back bench. Matthew perched on one of the backrests. “You gonna sit in the front, boss?” Morpheus just looked at him before opening the door to the passenger side. “Of course you are, stupid question,” he mumbled.

Thalia adjusted her seat and the rearview mirror before she turned around. “Delirium, what’s happening to that cop?”

“He was nasty to me, so…”

“I already tried, you need not bother,” Morpheus said wearily.

Thalia threw him a glance before she refocused on Delirium. “How about… giving him a bit more of whatever that is, for whatever reason? Not asking and don’t want to know. I’ll just start driving, and when we arrive wherever it is we’re going, you just… make it go away again?”

Morpheus sighed. “She won’t…”

“Yeah okay, deal, can we drive now? I’m bored…” Delirium yawned.

Thalia threw Morpheus a sideways glance while she started the engine. He briefly met her gaze, and for a moment, she thought he would say something. Alas, he didn’t and just chose to look straight ahead, but she was sure he smiled. Barely, and only for a moment. But he smiled…

Chapter Text

“Over there, over there, that’s where the dancing lady is!” Delirium shouted, and Thalia just about managed to take the turn while narrowly avoiding the oncoming traffic.

“You need to give me a bit more warning the next time,” she grunted, “I can’t just turn like that.”

Delirium cackled. “What’s supposed to happen, it’s not like any of us can die.”

“You two can’t, not so clear-cut for the rest of us,” Matthew cawed in very apparent disdain. “Besides, everyone else can, and it’s not exactly something we do—endangering other people with reckless driving.”

“Thanks, Matthew, at least someone gets it.”

“Yeah, well, about that… Not the best driver in my time, as I said.”

Thalia threw a glance at Morpheus, who was just pinching the bridge of his nose in his usual manner, and he probably rolled his eyes behind his firmly closed lids.

She turned into the car park and shut off the motor. The big signs reading “girls” and “beer” didn’t exactly leave much doubt as to the nature of the establishment, neither did the pink “Suffragette City”-neon sign that displayed enough tits and arse to last anyone a lifetime. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Oh,” Matthew exclaimed excitedly, “I haven’t been in a place like this since I had hands.”

Morpheus glared at him, and Thalia couldn’t help but snort.

“My wife didn’t mind, I swear,” he protested. Then he clicked his beak. “Well, okay, maybe she’d have minded if she knew. Anyway, are we going in?” He perched on Morpheus’ shoulder.

“Certainly.”

“Cool!” Matthew sounded a bit too happy.

“Tiffany’s here!” Delirium squealed. “And the dancing woman. And they aren’t dead or exploded or anything.”

Morpheus looked at Thalia with a roll of his eyes. “I am relieved to hear it.”

“Are we all going in, or…” Thalia leaned in and whispered into his ear. “Isn’t she too young?” He just raised his eyebrow and could hardly keep a straight face. “Sorry, I meant: too young looking.”

“We shall see.”

And see they did: When they arrived at the door, the bouncer immediately squared up. “Where do you all think you’re going? You’re definitely not taking that bird in there.”

“He’s not a bird,” Delirium piped up, “his name is… um…” Her voice trailed off.

The bouncer looked at both Thalia and Delirium. “Listen, you wouldn’t like it in there. And I don’t want the customers to get uncomfortable.”

Delirium protested, “But we’re friends of Tiffany’s!”

“She gets off work at 1:00, come back then.”

Delirium still didn’t give up. “But I want to see the dancing.”

He started to lose his temper. “See that sign there? ‘The management reserves the right to refuse admission’? Well, that’s what I’m doing. Now piss off! And take your bird with you.”

Thalia put her hand on Delirium’s shoulder. “Come on, we should…”

That’s when Morpheus stepped in. Or rather right in front of her. “Excuse me…” And the moment she heard the tone of his voice, she knew exactly what he was doing. “If you reflect for a moment, it will occur to you that we are four adult males, attired in conformity with local standards. And you are only too pleased to invite us into your establishment.”

The bouncer’s expression was dazed when he opened the door and said, “Well, have a great night, everyone.”

Thalia couldn’t help but grin as they walked in. “So, what did I look like to him?”

“Threatening enough not to want to get involved with you.” Morpheus gave her a sideways glance. “Or perhaps desperate enough for what this establishment has to offer.”

“Arse,” she laughed quietly, and he just shrugged his shoulders with a barely hidden smile.

As they walked in, Thalia immediately felt the heat, smelled the sweat of the bodies around her. It was overwhelming because she hadn’t walked the waking world for so long, and especially not a crowded place like this. The music was too loud and thumped in her ears, the flashing lights and the smell of alcohol and smoke made her feel dizzy. Something burned in her throat, and she coughed. She wished for something as simple as a glass of water but forwent the urge to order.

Everything felt wrong.

Three more or less naked girls were writhing on the stage, one blonde with curly hair, one extremely petite with a black geometrical bob, and a taller one with long brunette hair.

“Look, that’s Tiffany!” Delirium shouted in her ear while pointing at the blonde. “She looks smaller from outside her head.”

Morpheus fixed his gaze on the brunette, who seemed immediately uncomfortable, despite probably not being able to see him. Her dancing began to turn insecure, out of time, until she just ran offstage.

Thalia watched him closely. He knew her, so much was clear, so she just decided to be upfront about it. “Who is she?”

He chose to communicate without talking, maybe so he wouldn’t need to raise his voice over the noise, maybe so no one else would hear. “Her name is Ishtar—at least that is one of her many names. When Delirium spoke of a dancing woman who knew my brother, it never occurred to me it would be her. I last saw her 2,000 years ago. My brother and Ishtar were lovers. She was a bad influence on him, and…”

“Did he love her?”

“I fear he did, but I haven’t changed my opinion.” His jawline hardened. “I will need to speak to her. She might know where he is. But something isn’t quite right.” He looked at Thalia and briefly ran his thumb across her cheek. “Wait outside.”

Thalia snorted. “You are not seriously sending me out into a dingy old car park in the middle of the night, are you?”

Morpheus took her by her shoulders. “You should not be in here, trust me. Please go.”

“Is that supposed to convince me?”

“I will not discuss this any further.”

“But if you’re staying, I’m…” The dizziness was setting on quickly and heavily, and she lost consciousness…

When she came to, she found herself at the far end of the car park, slumped against a mesh fence. It took her a moment to collect herself, and she felt like she had been hit over the head with a hammer. It was clearly his doing, and a quick flash of anger surged at the thought he would do this to her without her consent. Only for it to be replaced with genuine worry. Because he wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t been concerned, if he hadn’t thought about her safety. And she couldn’t see Morpheus, Delirium or Matthew anywhere. It made her feel even more anxious because it meant they were probably still inside. So why wasn’t she?

“And I only am escaped alone to tell thee…”

The voice had startled her, and when she turned to face whomever it came from, she looked at the potentially most physically attractive man she had ever seen. He wore a sharp trouser suit and looked at her in a way that eerily reminded her of Morpheus when she had first entered the throne room: curious, interested, but also with a type of disdainful haughtiness and yes, pity, that she found hard to stomach.

“Can I help you?” she asked with a deep frown.

He gave her a little chuckle. “Oh, I don’t think either of us need any help. At least you got out of there before she goes critical.”

“What?”

His eyes fixed on the club for a moment, seemingly weighing up options she was not privy to. “You know, she still really loves him. Even now, he is all she is thinking of, I can feel it.” He popped his lips. “Poor thing. He was the only one she ever loved who wasn’t all used up in thirty, forty years.”

Thalia’s patience began to wear thin. “Listen, I don’t know who you are or what you’re on about, so why are you talking to me?”

He flashed a smile before he got serious again. “I tried to tell them, Thalia. They wouldn’t listen.”

This was getting too close for comfort. “Do I know you? How do you know my name?”

His eyes shone in the most intense golden hue, and he reached out his hand to touch her face. She didn’t even flinch; the moment his fingers came in contact with her skin, she knew. “You’re Desire.” And without a second thought and out of sheer impulse, she smacked him right across his face. “You fucking piece of shit!”

He changed right before her eyes, enough to make it hard to tell if they were a man or a woman. Right now, they seemingly had stopped being either. And while Morpheus wouldn’t have taken too kindly to being struck in earnest, Desire just laughed and seemed genuinely amused.
“Atta girl, give it to me straight! But you have to admit: I helped out quite a bit, didn’t I?”

“When did you ever help me?”
They looked at their fingernails. “How’s the old sex life going? Fine, I assume? Still hurts to be apart, doesn’t it? And tell me, does it hurt even more when that aching little spot in your core isn’t… filled?” Thalia swallowed hard and couldn’t look at them, and she felt anger directed at herself burning white-hot in her chest. “I thought so. You’re both doing so well, especially Dream. It makes for a nice change. He usually doesn’t handle giving in to his baser instincts without major drama, but you really got him off…” They smirked. “Bad pun. True, though. And it seems to stick this time. Admirable work, darling.”

“He told me everything, and it gets to him. You and Despair had no qualms about using me in your petty little chess game with your mother. I am happy where I am, but I died because of you.”

They tutted. “Oh dear Thalia, you would have died anyway, Mother would have taken care of that.” They bit their lip. “You, in fact, probably took care of that yourself because you just couldn’t let it go. You just had to be with him, didn’t you? Desire and Despair, just natural consequences. We only did what we do—hang around when you call us.” They gave her a guttural little laugh. “And since the proverbial had already hit the fan anyway, we only made sure that everyone involved got the most satisfying outcome possible: We turned the table on our mother, you two are together for good—isn’t that all that matters? And dare I say: I might even be a bit… happy for you, sister.” Their smile seemed so fake that Thalia found it challenging to hold on to her composure.

“Just don’t!”

Desire’s gaze zoned in on the club again. “In any case, I should take my leave, because some people truly aren’t bright enough to come in out of the rain.” They sighed. “If both of them were smart, they’d never have stirred things up.”

“Stirred up what?”
Desire just leaned in and kissed her cheek. And this time, Thalia did flinch. “I’ll see you around, my sweet sister.”

And with that, they were gone.

Thalia stared into the distance, trying to collect her thoughts, and even more desperately attempting to calm her intense anger. But she didn’t get very far—a deafening sound made her cry out in shock, and she felt a wave of intense heat that seemed to move right through her. When she turned around and looked at the club, her heart would have stopped if she still had one:

Suffragette City was gone.

No, gone wasn’t the right word. It was in ruins, completely obliterated, a mangled mess of steel, corrugated metal sheets and whatever else was sticking out from the pile of rubble that was still burning. The cars closest to it were up in flames, the alarms of some others were blaring after their windows had been panned in or the shock wave had hit them. She immediately knew that no one would be able to make it out of this mess alive. At first, she couldn’t make a sound and just stood there, eyes wide with a sense of dread so profound that it rendered her incapable of moving. Then the shaking started. And then she wailed…

“Thalia, look at me.” She felt his hands on her face, and her mind slowly began to get clear again.

And all she could do was throw her arms around him and sob. “You’re okay!”

“Of course I am.” Morpheus wrapped her in his embrace and kissed the top of her head. “Shhh now, it’s alright. I am here.”

She still couldn’t stop crying, and the shaking wouldn’t subside. Why on earth was this semblance of a body doing this to her?

“Because you had a mortal body once, and your mind remembers,” he whispered. And she could hear in his voice that her distress got to him. She pulled back, still a trembling mess, and his eyes were pooling with tears. “I am so profoundly sorry you had to witness this. Your pain hurts me. I…” His words failed him.

Thalia breathed deeply, trying to steady herself. “They all died, didn’t they?” The way he looked at her was enough of an answer. “What happened?”

Morpheus looked into the distance. “Ishtar danced. For the last time.”

“Is she responsible for this?”

“She was a goddess of love and war, after all, and this was her temple. But perhaps… No matter.” He gave her a haunted smile, and she was too shaken to ask any questions. Apart from one.

“Where are Delirium and Matthew?”

“Oh, I’m here,” Matthew cawed, and it made Thalia laugh through her tears in relief.

“Matthew, you have no idea how happy I am to see you! Can I get a hug?”

“Erm, if it’s alright with the boss, I mean, I don’t want this to come across as weird or anything.”

Morpheus stepped aside with a little bow, seemingly undecided if he was laughing or crying.

Matthew hopped on Thalia’s shoulder, and she turned her head to touch her forehead to his crown. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

He lingered on the touch for a second before he quietly croaked, “I’m okay, but what about you?”

Thalia just nodded and exhaled slowly through pursed lips, still trying to end the never-ending stream of tears.

Matthew glanced at Morpheus, who was watching them, clearly emotional, and quickly flitted off Thalia’s shoulder. “Sorry, boss.”

“It is quite alright.”

“It could have been a group hug, you know?” Thalia said.

Morpheus and Matthew just looked at each other, and the “No,” virtually came out in unison. At this point, Thalia was so highly strung that she couldn’t help laughing, still crying all the same. Morpheus’ mouth twitched ever so slightly, but his main expression was one of concern, and he stretched out his hand. When Thalia took it, he just pulled her close again. “Are you alright?” he asked, but he chose to keep it private.

She just sighed into the crook of his neck and whispered, “I don’t know.”

They stood like this for a while, and Thalia could feel the panic subside gradually. She wasn’t sure if it was just the fact that he held her, or if he actively helped her to calm down, but it was all the same to her anyway.

“Where is Delirium?” Her voice sounded tired and drained.

“I think we have lost her, but you need not worry about her, she…”

And speaking of the devil, there she was. “I’m alright. That was a bit… yeah. Whatever. Anyway, onwards on upwards, I guess.”

Silence.

“Right?”

Morpheus inhaled sharply. “No.”

Delirium looked at him wide-eyed. “What?”

“I will not accompany you any further from this point onward.”

“You don’t want to go with me anymore? What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I say. I have gone as far with you as I will go.”

Her face contorted in annoyance, verging on anger. “But you said… You told me… You said you knew where we were going next.” She pointed her finger at him. “You said!”

Matthew mumbled, “I’m outta here,” and disappeared right in front of her eyes. Thalia wished he would have stayed because she felt extremely uncomfortable.

Morpheus put his hands in his coat pockets and just sighed. “I meant what I said, and I know exactly where we are going to go. I will go back to my realm, and you will go back to yours.”

Delirium’s bottom lip began to quiver, and the tears were starting to form. “But our brother. We’re looking for him. We have to keep looking!”

“We do not have to do anything. All we have done thus far is bring death and damage to those we seek.”

Thalia laid her hand on his shoulder. “Morpheus…”

He put his hand on hers, removed and kissed it. And that gesture was gentle yet definite. “No, no more. It is enough.”

Delirium started to pipe up. “Here we go again! You never liked me! I thought that you liked me, and that you wouldn’t be horrid this time. And that you were my friend and everything.” Her hair turned even wilder than it already was. “And I thought we could find him and make everything okay again. I thought we were friends!”

“Friends, my sister? I thought we were family. And we have gone as far together as we will go. Farewell.” He turned to Thalia. “Come.”

Thalia felt helpless, but her instincts told her it was the right thing to do. And yet, she looked at Delirium, who stood there, shoulders hanging, looking crushed. She tried to remind herself of what Morpheus had told her, that she wasn’t a harmless young girl, and yet she couldn’t help but feel for her. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, everyone always is,” Delirium mumbled. “Well, I’ll be back in my realm then. If anyone wants me.”

And before Thalia could say anything else, they were back in the Dreaming…

Chapter Text

“Are you alright?”

The simplest of questions.

This time, it hurt, because she only had to take one look at him to know he wasn’t alright either, despite pretending he was. And maybe he pretended for her, but for the briefest of moments, she wondered if he truly did not know he was lying to himself.

All she could do was take him into her arms, hovering between a need to let him know she was there for him and admitting to herself she also needed him to steady her. And although she didn’t know why, the trembling started again, and it annoyed her because it made her feel weak when she wanted to be strong. The very moment those thoughts entered her mind, she realised she was doing the exact thing she hoped he would not. It was utterly ridiculous, and sometimes, she hated the feeling of being like him despite being nothing like him. It made no sense.

“You are shaking,” he whispered and held her close.

“It’s just the adrenaline.”

“You do not produce adrenaline anymore,” he commented dryly.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks for pointing that out.”

He pulled back, looked at her and gently swept a strand of hair from her brow. “My apologies. I know your mind remembers, and that it will always feel real to you.” His larynx moved up and down in quick succession, and his voice sounded hoarse when he said, “I am so sorry you had to…” before it broke for the briefest of moments. “What can I do to make it easier on you?”

“You’re doing it already.” She leaned into him again and let her cheek rest on his shoulder. But the trembling wouldn’t subside. “I’m cold and sore, I don’t even know why. And that horrible smell of fire and metal and…death won’t go away. It’s like it’s on me.”

He wrapped her tighter in his embrace, and she could have sworn he felt warmer than he usually did.

“What do humans do when they feel like this?”

Thalia laughed quietly, but it sounded somewhat lost to her ears. “How is it that you know everything about us and yet so little?”

She felt his chuckle more than she heard it. “That’s because knowing and knowing are not necessarily one and the same.”

Thalia mumbled into his shoulder, “If I weren’t what I’ve become, I probably would have taken a bath. I’m not even sure that’ll do anything because I’d probably be better off with a therapist...” And although she had meant it as a joke, the immediate rigidity in his body made her backtrack. “But I guess a bath would feel nice and get this smell off me.”

He relaxed again and gently let his hand run over her back. “There is only one way to find out.”

The very next moment, they were in the bathroom. And of course the bath was already filled with water, the air heavy, but not unpleasantly so, with the scent of jasmine and something else she couldn’t quite place. He had muted the marble floor and the bath to deep midnight blue with the faintest shimmer that looked like stardust. Nothing caused harsh reflections of the light that undoubtedly came from candles. Candles that were nowhere to be seen.

“It looks beautiful, but I could have walked in here on my own two feet, you know?” Thalia smiled.

“Too much effort,” was all he replied, and she could tell he truly meant it. When she made a move to take off her clothes, they were already gone. However, he very obviously attempted to keep his eyes fixed on her face. “Would you like to make sure the temperature is to your liking?”

Thalia dipped in her wrist briefly and nodded. He proffered his hand so she could step in, and she took it with a mock curtsy. She could have sworn it made him blush, and while she had no idea why, it seemed somewhat endearing.

“Does the faint colour on your face mean you like what you see, or should I have told you to look away?”

He just rolled his eyes at her.

It was only when she sank in and the water began to envelop her that she truly felt how tense she was, and she couldn’t help but wince.

Morpheus sat on the floor beside the bath, folded his arms on the ledge and let his chin rest on his hands.

They just looked at each other in silence for a long time.

“Is there anything else I can do?” he asked softly after a while.

“Just be here.” And suddenly, the tears began to stream down her face. All she felt was relief:

She was home, and it was over.

Morpheus reached out his hand to carefully thumb away her tears before he somehow managed to produce a sponge out of nowhere. He gently motioned her to lean forward and began to run it over her back. Thalia closed her eyes, and the tension she still held in her body slowly began to melt away.

“You wouldn’t need to twist so awkwardly if you just joined me.”

Morpheus briefly stopped mid-movement before he resumed. “That would not be wise.”

Thalia opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. “Why not?”

“Because being that close to you would feel challenging in… certain ways.”

The fact that he showed so much self-restraint made her heart open and ache at once. “You are hurting, too. This isn’t just about me.”

He shook his head. “Right now, it is.”

She took his free hand. “If that’s truly the case and it is about me, I will tell you it would make me feel better if you joined me.”

Morpheus hesitated for a moment. “You do know that your methods of persuasion are unfair?”

Thalia just shrugged, and he sighed with a barely concealed smile before getting up and willing his clothes away while turning his back on her.

“I’ve seen you naked before and quite liked it, no need to hide,” she teased.

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Quite liked it? You are insufferable.” And with that, he stepped in, graceful beyond comprehension, somehow still managing not to let her see anything. To add insult to injury, he had chosen the opposite end of the bath, which all of a sudden seemed bigger.

After a moment’s silence, she asked, “How are you feeling? And I mean truly.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Tired. Uncertain.” His throat clicked when he swallowed. “Guilty.”

As much as she hated he felt that way, the simple truth that for once, he told her, made her feel profoundly grateful. And she stopped caring whether it was wise or challenging—she needed to be closer to him.

“You’re too far away.” Her words made him open his eyes, and by the time she had moved to his end of the bath, the stars inside of them were shining like diamonds set in gold. She kissed him softly before she turned around, nestled herself between his legs and leaned her back into his chest. And she felt the subtle guarding, the reluctance to touch her beyond the contact her body was making with his. So she took both his arms to wrap them around her gently before folding her own over them, let her head rest on his shoulder, closed her eyes and just breathed.

And little by little, his tension began to subside, and his cheek settled against her head.

They stayed like this for a long time, quite possibly hours; she couldn’t tell since during moments like these, time had no meaning. The water stayed warm, and her skin didn’t mind for reasons she would never truly understand.

“How are you feeling now?” she asked.

“The thoughts are still the same,” he confessed. “But perhaps they hurt a little less.”

She turned her head slightly so she could look into his eyes. “You are not alone, do you hear me? You are so loved. Always, not just right now.”

He began to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger, but he didn’t utter a word.

Thalia reached back to wrap one hand around his neck and kissed him. After a moment, she couldn’t help but smile against his lips. “Is my pointless, kitschy rambling making you emotional?”

“It is far from pointless.” She felt the corners of his mouth turn up. “Besides, even the most kitschy romance novels are somewhat under my purview, so it is less discombobulating to me than you might think.”

They both began to laugh, but it only lasted for a moment. The kiss became deeper, and she gave up the battle against leaning into her need. But she could also sense that he was still fighting it, so she took one of his hands and gently ran it down her side before she placed it on her hip. It was as far as she wanted to guide or encourage him. All she needed him to know was that it was okay to touch her if he so wished. And she was so certain he wanted her because she could sense it, but it was his choice as much as it was hers.

He briefly looked at her, eyes dark yet full of doubt, and she just nodded almost imperceptibly. His left arm wrapped itself around her tighter while his right hand found its way between her thighs far quicker than she might have deemed possible only a moment ago.

Her hand pulled him in further, and his breathing was unsteady when he whispered, “I warned you that being too close to you would be challenging.”

“It’s what I want, and I know you want it too, so stop fighting it.”

He began to circle two fingers with gentle pressure. “Apparently, I did.”

“I’m glad,” she moaned while finding a rhythm and beginning to chase her release. And he let her, and it barely took a minute until the feeling of a far too tense coil, an overloaded spring, a string pulled too taut inside of her, became so unbearable that every attempt not to let it snap became futile. Not just because she was wound so tight from what had happened, but also because she had missed him more than she was comfortable admitting. Most of all because he just knew her mind so well, and her body was a mere extension. If he wanted to, he could make her see stars by barely touching her, and right now, she was done for. And he held her through it, let her ride out the waves against his hand until they turned into the smallest ripples. Ripples that wouldn’t completely subside.

His eyes were black as ink when he turned her head by her chin to kiss her again, and she immediately knew he wasn’t done with her, neither did she want him to be.

“I think I might have missed you,” she laughed softly against his lips.

Instead of replying, he just lifted her slightly, slid down by a fraction and then pushed up again. Nothing mattered apart from being one again, and for the briefest of moments, she thought about what Desire had told her. But even that stopped to matter when he began to guide her hand to touch herself. And all she could think about was that she needed him to come apart at the seams. Before she had even finished the thought, he breathed into her ear, “Touch me.” And in that moment, she simply knew it wasn’t a reaction to her thoughts, but a genuine need that he finally dared to communicate.

Being one with her and feeling her hand on him at once made him wrap her in his embrace so tightly that she could hardly breathe, and yet, she didn’t want it any other way. His movements became erratic before he pushed up hard, stilled and groaned into her shoulder. Everything felt out of control, and yet, it felt familiar, safe, like home…

Morpheus carefully ran his fingers over her shoulder before kissing it softly.

“I might have bruised you.”

Thalia took a glance. “I’ve no idea how that’s even possible.”

He proceeded to kiss the bruised spot before licking his way down ever so slightly and then sucking hard enough for her to ask, “Are you trying to mark me?” She could barely contain her laughter.

“Is that your wish?”

Thalia turned around in an instant to straddle him, and the water sloshed over the side of the bath.

“I asked first: Is it yours?”

Morpheus chose not to reply, and the bruise on her shoulder disappeared. He pulled her down gently so he could wrap his arm around her and cradle her head against his chest instead. She felt his breath and the soft touch of his lips against the top of her head, and everything became still for a moment. Still enough for her to hear and feel his heartbeat. It occurred to her how rarely she did, and that it always seemed a conscious choice on his part to let her perceive it.

His words brought her back. “I might have failed to tell you that I missed you, too.” His hand raked through her hair before he twisted a strand around his finger again.

“Seemed obvious to me.”

Thalia felt the low rumble in his chest when he chuckled. “You were right.”

“About what?” She lifted her head, and he untangled his finger from her hair and slowly ran it over the bridge of her nose, which caused her to follow it with her eyes and squint. He pulled back his finger and moved it from left to right in front of his face.

Thalia snorted. “I still think you’re hiding a sense of humour in there somewhere.”

He blinked with a smile. “Unlikely.”

“Don’t think so… Anyway, what was I right about?”

“Perhaps I misjudged my ability to control a certain sense of… I believe you called it ’urgency’.”

She felt him rocking against her, subtly but with a sense of surrender that immediately made her mouth go dry. “I encouraged you. Unfair persuasion, remember?”

“Need I apologise for letting you encourage me only too gladly?”

Thalia raised one eyebrow. “Do I look like I expect an apology?”

Morpheus didn’t reply and just kissed her. She felt on the brink of consciousness for a moment, and when she came to again, they were on top of the bed. Almost dry, but not quite, which told her all she needed to know about how distracted he was.

“What are you doing?” she laughed.

“Making up for all the times I didn’t love you while I was absent. And making sure it will not be over so soon this time…”

The thought she had to tell him wouldn’t leave Thalia alone.

“Are you intending to leave a mark on me in retaliation?” Morpheus hummed, eyes still closed.

Thalia looked at his chest—pink lines had begun to show where she was still running her nails back and forth absentmindedly. She immediately stopped.

“Sorry.”

The lines were already gone, and he opened his eyes and smiled at her. His brows furrowed when she didn’t replicate.

“Your mind is troubled.”

Thalia sighed. “Not troubled. Just thinking about something and…”

“…whether you should tell me or not.”

“I think I should, but you won’t like it.”

Morpheus turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “Try me.”

“Promise you won’t get mad.”

His eyes narrowed for the briefest of moments before he began to run the index finger of his free hand over her collarbone. “I promise I won’t get mad at you.”

Thalia hesitated. She didn’t want to ruin the moment, but she also knew it was too late for that.

“I’ve met your sibling. Outside Suffragette City.”

His tension was immediate. “Which one?”

The question seemed rhetorical—he clearly knew whom she was referring to.

“Desire.”

Within an instant, he was fully dressed and sat up. It was upsetting to think he felt a sense of vulnerability so deep that his refusal to be exposed and unguarded even extended to his physical form. Thalia wrapped the sheet around herself. He didn’t dare to look at her, but he didn’t seem angry either. His hands disappeared in his hair and stayed buried there until she cautiously reached out and touched his shoulder. Morpheus put one hand atop hers and turned his head to face her. His eyes were cobalt blue, but the stars hadn’t lost their aureate shimmer.

“And… what did they say?”

Thalia chewed on her lip. “That they tried to warn you not to listen to Delirium.”

He was biting down so hard that she could see his jawline turn into a sharp line resembling cut marble.

“Anything else?”

She hesitated. “That it was unwise of both of you to stir up things.”

Morpheus released a puff of breath, half laugh, half a sound so bitter it made the hairs on her neck stand on end, and not in a good way. He looked down at his clasped hands before focusing on something invisible at the opposite end of the room.

“Which tells me I did precisely the right thing.”

Thalia breathed out noisily through her nose. “You told me you had a bad feeling about it. I basically convinced you to go, and you listened to me against your better judgment. I think, in hindsight, you were right. And now you’re telling me you weren’t, just because Desire agrees with your initial hunch?”

He turned his head into his shoulder and looked at her, face half hidden behind his upper arm, but he didn’t utter a word.

“Why can’t you make peace?”

It was the moment Morpheus got off the bed. For a moment, Thalia thought he would just leave, but he began pacing the floor like a caged animal, and she didn’t know what to say or how to react.

After a while, he turned to face her. “There is no peace. Not with Desire.”

Thalia closed her eyes for a brief moment and willed herself into her clothes because she began to feel vulnerable, too.

He just stood in the middle of the room, still like a statue and seemingly lost, but she could sense his agitation so viscerally that it began to feel like her own. So she consciously took a few deep breaths and walked towards him. When she put both hands on the sides of his face and looked into his eyes, the luminescent cosmic dust began to settle. Not entirely, but enough for her to find the courage to ask what she knew she needed to ask.

“Do you desire me?”

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. And he didn’t open them when he simply replied, “Yes.”

“Then maybe there is peace. Or at least some sort of… truce?”

Morpheus finally looked at her. “My feelings for you are so much more, and you know that I…”

“Of course I know! And I think I have told you before that it was the Dreaming I had been looking for all my life, haven’t I? And the Dreaming is you. You always will be.”

He looked at her with tears in his eyes, and his voice nearly broke when he whispered, “I remember your words and when you spoke them, and I wish I did not.”

Thalia kissed the corners of his mouth lightly. “I regret nothing. And I still need you to understand that.” She felt him trembling ever so slightly when she leaned into him and laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m not scared of loving all that you are. And desiring you. Deeply. With every fibre of my being. These things aren’t mutually exclusive, and you know this. Why are you fighting it so hard?”

“I do not.” His body was as rigid as a plank, and he didn’t reciprocate her touch. No matter how much she willed it into being, nothing could change it at this very moment. And she felt his need to pull away, even before he stepped back from her and clasped his hands firmly behind his back. His body language was in stark contrast with his words when he said, “I desire you. And I am willing to acknowledge I do because it is what you wish for, but…”

Thalia felt her hands balling into fists. “What I wish for?”

Morpheus lifted his chin and looked down at her. Or at least it felt like it. “You know that these things are inseparable for me.”

Her heart sank. “Yes, I know, and we’ve talked about it a million times. But I also thought that we recently established there is a part of you that only belongs to you. And now you’re looking straight into my eyes, insinuating that it’s all for me and you’re doing me a favour?!”

Flashes of crimson and orange, fiery tendrils reaching across the edge of the event horizon of his blown-up pupils. And she wasn’t sure if it was fury or something else emanating from his eyes because he had brought all the shutters down.

His voice was eerily quiet when he pressed, “I did not say such a thing, neither did I intend to imply it.”

“Then what did you intend to imply? Help me understand!”

He blinked. “I do not wish to discuss the matter further.”

“You never do,” she muttered while turning around and beginning to walk away.

But within a split second, she felt his vice-like grip on her wrist. The way it made her jerk back was not controlled, and not in any way tender, or even just measured, on his part.

She bumped into him, and for the briefest of moments, the look in his eyes unsettled her. And he whispered, “Do I scare you?”

For a second, Thalia wasn’t sure if the question was anchored in his own worst fear, or if it was a threat, but she decided to consciously forgo engaging with the thought. “I’ve never been scared of you in my life. But your inability to acknowledge that you have desires of your own, and taking it out on me, unsettles me. You promised you won’t get mad at me, and here we are.”

His grip loosened. “I am not mad at you.”

Her voice came out a bit sharper than intended. “No? Who are you mad at then? Yourself?”

An awful silence hung between them, thick enough to be stifling, and the stars in his eyes were still flashing red. But there was something else. Something familiar, something that told her everything she needed to know before he even found the words to voice it.

Aureate shimmer in a pool of black ink.

And then he kissed her. So hard that she knew her lips would be bruised tomorrow were she still mortal, or would he not choose to make it go away.

“Is this what you want?” he asked breathlessly.

She shook her head. “All I want is for you to say it out loud so it becomes real.”

“I desire you.” He lifted her, or maybe she had jumped him, it didn’t matter. Thalia wrapped her legs around him. “You already said that to assuage my feelings. But what else?”

A few strides, and they were back at the bed. And nothing about the way they fell atop was in any way dignified, neither was the way he just willed away their clothes.

“I do not understand what else you need to hear?” He began to move inside of her, and she felt the pressure building far too quickly.

“Nothing you don’t mean. Nothing you say only to appease me. Just the truth.” She wrapped her arms and legs around him and just held him. “Your truth. Not mine, not anyone else’s. Yours.”

He pulled back to look at her, his hands buried in her hair. And as he did, his expression turned soft again, and he began to slow down. Seconds passed, and they felt like minutes.

“The truth is that I do not desire you because you wish for it. Or because it arouses me that you desire me. Although I admit it does.” They stared at each other for a moment, and the ice broke when he began to smile; his eyes had returned to their usual silvery blue, and yet, golden stardust seemed to reflect in them. But he turned serious the very next moment, and his gaze was unwavering when he said, “I would desire you even if you didn’t desire me. And I admit to it and do not wish to change it. Not anymore. And yet, it hurts…” He briefly closed his eyes, and the breath he took didn’t seem to reach the bottom of his lungs—she could sense it catching as his body pressed against hers. “It never led to anything good in the past…”

“But this is not the past. This is something good. Would you want it any other way?”

His brow furrowed. “Not that long ago, I would not have been able to trust my feelings on this… matter.”

She swept a strand of hair away from his face. “Then why do you trust them now?” He swallowed hard, and she started to feel worried that he didn’t. “Or don’t you?”

“Perhaps I do. Or at least I have begun to. But only because I felt so deeply connected to you even before I desired you, and that will never change: wonder and vision, renewal and peace, remember?” Thalia swallowed as he proceeded. “I would love you even if I were not allowed to ever touch you again. And I did when I thought that was the case.”

“I know because it wasn’t any different for me.”

“But you fought so hard for us, to be with me, while all I did was try to prevent you from…” His voice just cut out.

“You did the right thing. And so did I. Sometimes, these things aren’t at odds even if it seems like it.”

“While your words are true, I am not sure if they are also wise.”

“Did I ever give you the impression I cared about being perceived as wise?”

He didn’t reply and got lost in her eyes for a brief moment. Thalia felt a smile creeping up her face that made her cheeks hurt.

“What?” His face lightened up.

“I was just thinking how incredibly lucky you are that those days are over, that you don’t have to think about not being allowed to touch me ever again because that problem has somehow solved itself, and that I desire you so much that I’m telling you to fuck me senseless right now.”

He raised one eyebrow but could barely hide the twitch around his mouth. “I thought I was already in the process of doing so?”

“Hm, but you stopped and got rather verbose about things.”

He responded to the gentle rocking of her hips. “Because you wanted me to!”

“Consider me impressed; incessant talking is usually my domain, not yours.”

“Thalia Callaghan, you are in trouble.”

She started laughing. “For what?”

“For plenty of things, using choice words being one of them. Making me lose my temper being another.”

“I can handle it.”

He began to push into her harder, and she couldn’t help but groan. “We shall see…”

“Well, what do you know?” Desire chuckled to themselves. “What took you so long?”…

Chapter Text

Thalia tried to find him, but he was gone. Once more, she couldn’t even sense him. It was something she would never get used to. Or maybe she would if he only took the time to explain to her what was going on—why he withdrew, why he needed space. There had been no argument, nothing that would explain why he had vanished. Perhaps he was hurting again, and she just wished he would talk to her. And yet, every time she carefully tried to broach the subject, he shut her down by assuring her that it was for the best.

I can only share that which is safe for you.

There would always be a part of him he would never share with her, one he would always keep locked away. And it hurt to think it would be like this for all time.

Eternity.

Nothing was simple. Not that she had to accept he would never be fully known to her. Not that it caused her pain, physically and emotionally, when she was severed from him. She was a part of the Dreaming, which made her a part of him, and as much as she was still herself, it was impossible to deny this simple truth. At times, it was all that mattered and all she wanted. And then there were times when the pain he felt hurt her so viscerally it was near unbearable. And he knew, withdrew again, and it all became circular.

So she busied herself with visiting dreamers, with talking to the denizens of the Dreaming, with remembering what it meant to paint. Remembering to do simple things like eating despite having no real need to, and drinking far too much coffee because it felt familiar.

And every so often, she tried to remember what it had actually felt like to be a living human.

It was something she wanted to hold on to and refused to forget, and on some days, it was harder than on others…

She felt the pull. Very subtly at first, then stronger, and it was nothing she could resist.

“You’re here, thank God,” Mel whispered.

“You’re dreaming, Mel.” Thalia’s heart was aching because she knew it felt real to her friend. And it also felt real to her. Even touching her hand reminded her of what they had shared when she had still been alive.

Mel looked at her closely. “You okay, babe?”

Thalia smiled. “Of course I am. This is your dream—are you?”

She took a glance at the surroundings. “Strange place I’ve conjured up there.”

Nothing was strange in dreams, and Thalia thought to herself that the landscape Mel’s subconscious had chosen was beautiful: The sky a canvas of soft pastel hues, the ground an endless meadow dotted with wildflowers.

Thalia let her bare feet sink into the grass and waited. Mel didn’t speak and just took off her leather boots before she began to dip her feet into the stream that meandered through the grass, its waters clear and shimmering with specks of diminishing sunlight.

After a while, she finally looked at Thalia. “I’m worried about you.”

This wasn’t right. It was Mel’s dream, it shouldn’t be about her.

“It’s my dream, Thalia, and I can worry about you any way I like.”

Great, now she is reading my mind—as if I didn’t get enough of that already, Thalia thought to herself. “Of course you can, but you shouldn’t. I swear I’m okay.”

Mel tucked her hair behind her ears—it was a lot longer now than the short crop she used to wear. “Do you remember the night after we both woke up with that strange amnesia and we got drunk?”

Thalia just gave her a brief nod; it was a memory both painful and cherished.

“I already told you then you’re a bad liar, and that I liked that about you. But I like it because I can tell you’re lying, not because I think you shouldn’t confide in me.”

“Mel, I’m not here to talk about me. It’s your dream; this is about you.”

“Well, if it’s about me, maybe it’s because I worry? It’s probably nothing, but I’d rather…”

Thalia laughed, but it didn’t sound right to her own ears. “I can hardly die twice, can I?” And deep inside, she knew it was, quite strictly speaking, not true: It was possible to stop being a dream and go… wherever that might be. But this was not the time to think about it.

And out of nowhere, a solitary weeping willow manifested a bit further downstream. Its drooping branches kissed the water's surface and began to create ripples that spread outwards and towards them. When Thalia looked into the water, her reflection was distorted, and the air started to feel thick and stifling. Something felt off, as if the dream was beginning to fold in on itself. And yet, it remained.

Mel began to fiddle with the silver pendant around her neck. It looked like a key, and Thalia immediately began to feel uncomfortable because it reminded her of the day she had died, and everything she had gone through.

“That’s not true, and you know it.”

Mel’s words brought her back, and Thalia pretended to be obtuse despite knowing her friend was just echoing her thoughts. “What isn’t true?”

“That you can’t die twice.” And just as Mel had spoken these words, a silver circlet began to show on her brow, surrounded by tiny moonstones that caught the light.

Nothing about this felt right, and Thalia’s heart was aching to stay with her friend. But she also had a mounting sense of wanting to get away from her.

“I think you should wake up. I promise you I’m okay. I love him, and he loves me.”

Mel tilted her head to one side, and the moonstones on her forehead began to sparkle so brightly that it was blinding. “Sometimes, love isn’t enough. His pain is yours, and you will get hurt. Maybe you should get out while you still can.”

“There is nowhere to go! I am dead, I am a dream, this is it. I either stay with him for all eternity, which I intend to, or I will move on to heaven-knows-where.”

“Then move on.”

Thalia began to feel irritated. “What is wrong with you? I know you always had problems with him, but at least you didn’t tell me what to do.”

Mel reached out her hand and laid it on hers. “Thalia, I am your friend. And I am telling you right here, right now: There will only be pain and suffering on the road ahead. Leave. Leave while you still can.”

There was an echo to Mel’s voice, like the faint whisper Thalia’s bare feet would so often create across the empty marble corridors of the castle.

“You’re not Mel, are you?”

She inclined her head, and her eyes changed into twin pools of silver right before Thalia’s eyes. “I am, but I am also more than that. I am her, I am you, I am she who once was. It is you who found me because your heart is heavy.”

“I…” Thalia only blinked for a split-second, but when she opened her eyes again, a veil had come down over Mel’s face.

“Fate weaves no straight path. It twists, spirals, and unravels. You will find me again when your night is deepest.”

Thalia felt a sense of panic so profound, a dread so suffocating that she was unable to move. Until she remembered that she was in control, or at least she hoped she still was.

So she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she opened them again, Mel had changed back to her usual look—to the woman she knew, the friend she loved and trusted. But that trust was precariously wavering right now, and Thalia just needed to find a way out, to get away.

“I know you worry about me, and I thank you. But this is between me and him, and there is nothing you can do.” She took Mel’s hands and let her forehead sink on hers. “I need to go.”

Just a moment later, Thalia found herself collapsed in a heap in his arms, shaking, but unable to move. For a moment, she only felt relief he was back, and yet, she couldn’t help those three words falling out of her mouth:

“Where were you?”

Her voice sounded far too weak for her liking.

She sensed the tension in his body, and when she looked into his eyes, thousands of meteors were raining down into nowhere, silver on black. The swirling storm only stopped when he blinked, and his eyes returned to a shade of silvery blue. He brushed the hair from her brow.

“I had to enquire about certain matters, and I needed privacy.”

“Enquire about what?”

He cast his eyes down briefly and swallowed. “Nothing you should burden yourself with.”

Thalia began to feel irritated. “Morpheus, you were gone for days from all I can tell.”

“I recall you doing the same when…”

She snorted in exasperation. “That’s not the same! I had very good reasons to need space after all you had told me back then and…”

“You presume my reasons to be lesser than yours?”

“You never tell me what’s going on, and that burdens me a lot more than if you were simply honest with me.”

“I am honest with you.”

“Ah, okay, just lying by omission.” She had to admit to herself that she provoked him to get any type of reaction, even if that meant he got annoyed. But he didn’t. He just looked into her eyes instead and said, “I came back because of you.”

“Do I need to feel honoured?”

Her little quip did not elicit the response she had hoped for. “You are unwell. I… felt your struggle.”

Thalia pulled back ever so slightly. “Did you spy on me?”

Morpheus raised one eyebrow. “Do I need to remind you that it is impossible for me not to know?”

She shook her head, all the while trying to find the right words. “Then maybe you have an idea what the fuck was going on in Mel’s dream? Because it sure didn’t feel normal, nor is it what I signed up for.”

He looked like a dog that had just been kicked, and his voice was almost inaudible when he said, “I apologise that your presence here, and being what you are, causes you pain.”

Thalia’s patience began to wear thin. “Can we please not start again? It would be far more helpful for me to know what on earth I just experienced.”

“A vision.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I think I figured that out myself. A vision of what?”

“I cannot tell you.”

“Cannot or want not?”

“Cannot.”

There was something avoidant about his answer, but she chose to let it go for now. “Was this even Mel?”

“No, it was an image of her your mind created.”

Thalia felt hot and cold at once. “But how is that possible? I felt the pull, it just started like a dream and…”

“It was your dream, not hers.”

“Morpheus, I barely sleep, never mind dream. I only try to sleep if I want to remind myself of what it used to feel like.”

“You still miss being human…” His agony was only thinly veiled.

“No!” She breathed. “I sometimes miss the physicality of it, the groundedness, but I never once regretted being here, being with you. And I am getting so sick and tired of repeating myself. Nothing I say will ever be good enough, nothing will ever change your mind on the matter, will it?” He stayed silent. “Okay, so if I randomly passed out, or whatever you are trying to tell me this was, and my mind crafted some weird horror scenario that you were absolutely aware of, can you at least tell me what to do with it?”

“These messages are only for those who receive them. Only you will know. In time.”

“That’s super helpful, thanks.” She sank back on her heels.

They sat in silence for a moment, both trying to avoid looking at each other. At least that’s what it felt like to Thalia because when she couldn’t take it anymore and risked a peek, he was still staring at his hands. It only lasted a bit longer until he finally looked up and met her gaze.

“Are you alright?”

There it was again, that question he had asked only a few times, and every time, it had been of deep significance. And this time, she chose to throw the question back at him.
“Are you alright?”

He pressed his lips together until they were nothing but a thin line and nodded. She knew it was a lie, but she also knew he wouldn’t admit it. Wouldn’t tell her anything as not to worry her. And even though she could acknowledge that his motives were probably pure, it still hurt.

“Forgive me, but Lucienne told me my presence is required in the gallery. I came here to assure you are well, but I will need to speak to my sister.”

“Delirium?”

“Death.”

“Should I come with you?”

He looked at her long and hard, and she could tell he fought with himself. “No, these matters are best kept between siblings…”

Thalia’s perception of time had started to get more and more warped for a while, but she was sure a few hours had passed when he finally came back.

She couldn’t read him. There was a strange sense of relief about him, but also an unspoken heaviness, and it made no sense.

Silence. Until she couldn’t take it any longer.

“And?”

Morpheus didn’t even look at her. “And what?”

“What did your sister say?”

“Which one?” His voice sounded tired, but Thalia also perceived a slight prickle of annoyance.

“You told me it was Death, so who else did you meet?”

“Delirium.”

His monosyllabic answers were beginning to try her patience. “Well, both then! I’m not clairvoyant, unlike you.”

Morpheus still didn’t look at her. “I am not convinced that is true.”

“I think I’m in the middle of proving that I’m not, so could…”

“I was not talking about you.” He finally looked at her before he exhaled through his nose and looked away again. “I was talking about myself. Because if I knew everything I needed to know, I would not need to do any of this.”

“Any of what? Can you stop being so cryptic and just talk to me?” She walked up right in front of him and took his face in her hands, and it took all the strength she could muster to soften her voice. “Please?” And then she wrapped her arms around him and just breathed for a moment. He was so rigid it nearly hurt her physically. “Please.” And it felt like they were standing like this for ages even though only a few moments had passed—not longer than it had taken her to breathe two or three times.

Morpheus finally responded to her touch and held on to her for a moment while softly saying, “We will resume our journey to find our brother.”

Thalia’s heart sank, and while her first impulse was to pull away to look at his face, she didn’t. Instead, she held on to him tighter. Her voice nearly broke when she whispered, “Why?”

Silence. Then, a chuckle that seemed more of a sigh. “Because it seems I cannot do right by any female entity I have ever encountered. Which probably includes my sisters.”

The words fell out of Thalia’s mouth before she had a chance to even think about them. “Did they tell you off?”

She pulled back to look at him and half-expected to see annoyance. Instead, she found him raising one eyebrow at her in that so familiar way. “One could say so. Not that I would not be used to it by now.” The twitch around the corners of his mouth was very apparent by now, but Thalia didn’t feel like laughing.

“Morpheus, this is not a joke!”

His face was soft, as was his voice. “I know it is not. And perhaps she had a point…”

“About what?”

“About the fact I might have hurt my youngest sister in my attempt to…”

“But you were right to abandon those plans! You knew it all along, and it was my fault you went with her in the first place.” She began fisting her hair until it hurt. “I wish I’d never said anything, I…”

Morpheus took her wrists and gently pulled her hands away from her head. “While my sister’s plan was, and potentially still is, foolish, I had no right to be so harsh on her. Sometimes, I suppose, the end does not justify the means.”

Thalia began to chew on her lip. “There’s no way I’m going to convince you to rethink, is there?”

He just looked straight into her eyes, the darkness of a void not brightened by the glow of very few stars.

Thalia felt her resolve to fight him on the matter waning, and it was the moment his expression changed. His eyes began to shimmer with ethereal light, like the first rays of dawn breaking through the night, until they were blue again.

“I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“For things being… complicated.”

She straightened her back. “That’s why I’ll come with you.”

All the shutters came down at once, and the softness was gone. “That is completely out of the question. Do you not remember what happened the last time?”

“Yes, I do remember what happened the last time. I remember exactly what it felt like. But I also think I can help you.”

“I do not need your help.”

“I didn’t say you needed my help, I said I can help you. I was mortal once. I understand the world you are intending to walk in.”

His annoyance was palpable. “And you think I do not?”

“I’m very aware you know everything about nearly everyone, but that’s not the same as… application of said knowledge.”

He just stared at her, but she managed to hold his gaze.

“What if I told you that we are not going to walk the world that used to be yours?” Thalia’s face contorted itself into a frown, and his voice turned quiet. “At least not right away.”

“I’m not sure I understand?”

“We are seeking out Apollo first…”

Chapter Text

Delirium had lost her wild mop of hair. Thalia tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help it; it was almost like she had been replaced with someone who still resembled her, but in a way that seemed… harsh? Like a young girl who had to grow up well before her time, who had seen too much and yet nothing. Childlike yet with facial features that seemed far too old, with no hair left to soften her appearance. Well, that was quite strictly speaking not true—some of her strawberry-blonde hair remained, but it looked as if a toddler had taken the shaver to her head to leave a patchy mess of something that might have resembled a buzzcut on a good day. She wore a torn fishnet suit over black underwear, and Thalia found herself thinking that a young girl shouldn’t be dressed like this. Until she reminded herself that Delirium was not a young girl, and that it wasn’t her place to think like this anyway. But she felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness she simply couldn’t shake.

“Are you okay?” she whispered under her breath.

“Hm?” Delirium looked at her, mismatched eyes clouded.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Her eyes became clear suddenly, and she began to grin. “Can you make me a cardigan?”

Thalia frowned. “What?”

“A cardigan. Made of that dream stuff of yours. I’d like one, I’m cold.”

“I’m not sure I…” She interrupted herself. “Alright, think of something.”

“Anything?”

“No, not anything. A cardigan,” she snorted.

Delirium laughed out loud. “Ha, silly me. Jumpery cardigan thing… okay… I’m thinking thoughts…”

Thalia closed her eyes and concentrated hard, but nothing happened. “You need to let me in.”

When she opened her eyes, she found Delirium looking at her, all confused. “Oh… I’m not sure if I should… do that, I don’t think. He wouldn’t like it.”

“Well, he’s not here.” Thalia raised an eyebrow, and Delirium began to scratch her nose before the biggest smile crept up her face.

“Right. Okay. But only for a second. Just to make the jumpery thing.”

Delirium took Thalia’s hands without warning. Cold clamminess that was immediately replaced with a searing hotness before it reverted to freezing, but dry.

They both closed their eyes.

Thalia had not been prepared for the explosion of colour, the noise, the smell and the taste that descended upon her all at once. Her instinct was to withdraw immediately, but she stubbornly refused to go back on her word. It was challenging to keep her mind focused while it was simultaneously flooded with shifting and swirling patterns that defied any logic.

Focus, Thalia. Focus.

She really tried to conjure up something nice, but the onslaught of a thousand voices, mingled with laughter of… children… the sound and smell of rain… the smell and feel of ash… then honey… wildflowers… blood… a lizard on a bicycle…

“Done.” She quickly removed her hands and opened her eyes.

Oh, for fuck’s sake…

She had managed to conjure up a potato sack! Well no, it was a cardigan, but it looked like a potato sack. It was brown, made of the scratchiest-looking wool one could imagine, and it also seemed about three sizes too big, completely drowning her.

“I…”

Delirium just looked down at herself, raised her arms and twirled on one leg. “Oh, I love it, it smells of wet beasties!”

“I’m so sorry, I’m not particularly good at this.”

“No, you’re not. You’re very bad at it, and I like it. If I’d wanted something different, I could have done it myself.”

Thalia felt a quick flash of annoyance. “But…”

“I will wear this for-ev-er. And ever. And will let mothy moths bite hole-y holes in it. HOLE-Y holes. Not HOLY holes. Or GLORY holes!” She cackled.

“Delirium, that is quite enough.”

As usual, Morpheus had managed to enter the room without them noticing.

“Are you already narking at me again?” Delirium planted her hands firmly on her hips.
“No, I am merely reminding you that indecency is uncalled-for when discussing the simple matter of an…” He seemed one step away from scrunching up his face so hard it was near-comical, “… overgarment.”

“Not what I remember,” Thalia mumbled, trying to bite back a laugh while recalling a particular… situation that had involved conjuring robes for herself in front of a mirror.

Morpheus cleared his throat with a warning glance. Thalia looked for some humour in his expression in vain; he seemed apprehensive and guarded.

Delirium immediately seemed to retreat into herself again, sank to the floor and wrapped herself in that monster of a cardigan.

“Thank you anyway,” she muttered.

Thalia’s eyes met his, and he seemed to take it as encouragement to crouch down right next to his sister.

“What seems to be the matter, Delirium?”

She rested her chin on her knees with a pout. “I thought we’d have some fun, you know? And now we’re going to that strange place, and I don’t want to go there because I don’t like it, and I don’t have nice memories of it, and…”

His voice was soft. “We have no other means left to find our brother; it is the only way.”

“I know my envelope with my squiggly notes is no good any more, but… I don’t like them. And I don’t think they like us, and…”

He got up but immediately reached out his hand. And in the brief moment Delirium hesitated to take it, Thalia felt her heart aching—for him, for his sister, for a relationship so fragile yet so deep that it hurt to witness the unspoken insecurity she felt radiating from both.

“It is going to be alright.” Something in his voice told her he didn’t believe it himself, but the moment was short-lived, and Delirium finally took his hand.

“But how do we get there? I mean, I guess I’ve done it before, but I can’t remember. When… when was it again?” She looked up at her brother, whose expression had become strangely vacant.

“A long time ago.”

Thalia couldn’t help but put her hand on his shoulder, which seemed to bring him back, and he briefly looked into her eyes before he focused on his sister again.

“We will travel through the ancient portal…”

It was strange to step out of the Dreaming, yet still have the feeling of being in it. None of this felt real. Thalia found herself on a path of what seemed like stardust, not unlike during that fateful night he had created the star for her, but the ground was firm. Every time she took a step, she heard an echo. No, wrong. It was more like perceiving it, sensing it inside herself, like some… ancient song? It was beautiful, and for a moment, she felt profoundly grateful to experience it. But that moment passed far too quickly.

No one spoke, and the atmosphere felt heavy and preoccupied. The air began to hum in a way that gradually became louder. And yet, she perceived Morpheus’ sigh all too clearly.

“We have arrived.” And just as he had spoken his words, they entered a grove of sweet bay.

It didn’t take them long to reach a clearing, and all of a sudden, the light began to change, as if the sun itself had somewhat descended to greet them. But funnily enough, it was a radiance not bright in the usual sense of the word. It was rather resembling twilight, like the last rays of the sun mingling with the onset of night, and yet completely different.

Thalia immediately knew this wasn’t random but by choice. Like a bridge between realms, something charged with power. She felt Morpheus, but she could also sense him before she even had the chance to lay eyes on him:

Apollo’s smile was both welcoming and strangely intimidating. His hair caught the light, and his eyes rested on her for the briefest of moments.

Thalia took a deep breath as Morpheus stepped forward with the quiet authority she had got so used to, despite knowing about the storm that was constantly raging underneath.

He bowed his head. No, it was a nod, and his eyes stayed focused on Apollo’s when he put his hand on his heart. “I greet you, Bringer of Prophecy and Light.”

“And I you, Oneiros.” His voice was unexpectedly gentle and soothing. And yet, it rang with an edge that would be able to rally an army. His head turned, and he bowed to Delirium. “I also greet you, Lady of the Unbound.”

Delirium frowned. “No one has called me that for… longish. Like, I can’t even remember. Sounds better though than,” she lowered her voice and pulled in her chin, “‘Bearer of Discordant Truths’ or ‘Daughter of Divine Chaos’, because that reminds me of… well, something. Not exactly nice stuff, but I don’t even know what…”

“I see not much has changed since last we met. Apart from your company.” Apollo turned to Thalia and smiled. “Of course I heard, and I am much delighted. I greet you, Lady Thalia. Your name reminds me of better times. I once knew someone who also bore your name. Or perhaps you are bearing hers?” He looked at her with intrigue.

Delirium snorted. “‘Bore your name’ is funny. ‘Bore you an army of sons’, more like…”

Apollo laughed while Morpheus tried to remain stoic, but Thalia could tell he was both seething and mildly embarrassed. “I would not call seven sons an army, but I see your point, Bearer of Discordant Truths…”

“There it is,” Delirium mumbled, kicking the stones at her feet.

Apollo’s smile slowly faded, although his expression still seemed mild and somewhat friendly.

“I assume you are not here to discuss times long past—or my family, for that matter. So why are you here, and how can I assist?”

“Not so prophetic anymore, are you?” Delirium giggled, immediately silenced by her brother’s piercing stare.

“Times have indubitably changed. For all of us…” He directed a somewhat knowing glance at Morpheus. “But more for some than others.” His face clouded over. “We have lost many to your realm, Shaper of the Oneiric Veil. Humans eventually stop believing…”

“I don’t think we do.” Thalia didn’t even know what had got into her. Too late, the words were out.

“Is that so?” Apollo’s expression seemed practised, like someone who had tried in front of a mirror too many times.

“Maybe the Gods we believe in change. Maybe we just give them different names and faces over time. Maybe we don’t even call them ‘Gods’ anymore. But l don’t think the core of our beliefs changes. We still believe…” She began to feel the heat rise in her face, and her voice dropped into something almost inaudible. “… in something.”

“Reality unfortunately looks different for many of my kin. And if you had walked amongst mortals as long as many of us have, you might also find the notion of unchanging beliefs… illusory.”

The shame for potentially overstepping, in the company of Gods and Endless no less, was excruciating.

Apollo’s smile returned to its genuine, radiant version. “But we shall not discuss these matters right here, right now. You came for a reason, and I apologise for being a terrible host. I will rectify this with immediate effect and provide you with everything you need for your stay…”

“Oh, we’re not staying, are we?” Delirium’s voice sounded like that of a whiny toddler.

Morpheus’ raised brow immediately silenced her. “We thank you for your hospitality and accept your offer until we find the answers we seek.”

“Can we find those answers quick?” Delirium mumbled.

Thalia leaned in and whispered, “You want to find your brother, remember?” Just a second later, she nearly kicked herself because what was she thinking? That no one would hear?

Apollo glanced at her. His smile began to get on her nerves, but she tried not to show it.

“Follow me, I will ascertain your needs are taken care of…”

Strangely, the room reminded Thalia of home: The floors were made of polished marble, cool and smooth underfoot. But they weren’t night, they were day: Veins of gold instead of silver, the equivalent of warm sunlight instead of the cooler light of the moon.

Her eyes came to rest on a bed draped in silk sheets with a golden shimmer, just like the marble floors. Everything here seemed full of light, and for the briefest of moments, she found herself thinking that as beautiful as it was, it wasn’t home. It felt strange and unfamiliar, despite being much closer to the Waking World than the Dreaming would ever be. Even the frescoes on the walls, with their subtly shifting colours, seemed uncanny.

“Perhaps you are getting too used to that which is not real.”

His voice pulled her from her thoughts. When she turned to face him, she saw it again: That air of despondency. The look of sadness in his eyes that was about her, not him. She quickly snapped herself out of it.

“And gladly so.”

He tried to force a smile but failed. “Are you certain?”
Thalia put her arms around his neck. “I wish it would make a difference if I assured you that I am.”

Morpheus cast down his eyes. “What if I told you it does?”

“What if I asked why you won’t stop worrying then?”

When he looked at her again, the night sky was staring back at her. But there were also tiny pinpricks of light, shifting silver and gold. “What if my answer were that I cannot simply ‘stop’ worrying about you? Or feeling guilt over what happened?”

The profound tenderness and care in his voice nearly rendered Thalia speechless, and she just about managed not to let her voice break when she said, “What if I replied that I know, but that I wished you didn’t feel guilt over something that happened because of the choices I made? Choices I would make again in a heartbeat?”

He closed his eyes and let his forehead sink onto hers. “What if I told you it would make me think you must be under the influence of my youngest sister?”

The relief Thalia felt was near instantaneous, and all she could say was, “I’d reply that you might have a point, but it’s a type of madness you’ll need to get used to.”

He chuckled. “And do you expect me to succeed?”

“Yes.”

His lips began to trace the outline of her face. “I shall persist in trying.”

“Good, and I shall persist in encouraging you.”

“Please do,” he whispered before he finally kissed her.

Chapter Text

The banquet table stretched across the length of the hall, laden with dishes that Thalia probably would have loved had she still been alive. Only that right now, the scent of fruit interlaced with that of flowers was nothing but sickly to her, so she swiftly sipped on the wine from the goblet right in front of her. Alas, even that was too sweet for her liking, and she could barely control her face.

Morpheus, on the other hand, seemed calm and collected, but she could perceive the undercurrent of something awful that filled her with dread.

Apollo sat at the head of the table. Thalia had no idea what was normal or appropriate for these types of occasions, but he wore a tunic of shimmering white, embroidered with threads of gold that danced with even the smallest of his movements.

The contrast couldn’t have been sharper or more pronounced, despite the fact that Morpheus wasn’t wearing black tonight. But he was clad in a midnight blue so dark that it might as well have been black. No jeans, no shirt, no coat, no boots—only flowing robes. For a moment, she caught herself thinking that he looked like a God, but she dismissed the thought quickly. Because she knew he was more than that. But to her, he was just himself.

They exchanged pleasant little stories. Maybe this was how one did small talk in these circles but she felt out of place. She also knew this wasn’t about her.

And perhaps Delirium felt as out of place as she did. She sat to Apollo’s left, and Thalia understood enough about etiquette to know that the seat to his right had been given to Morpheus, not his sister, as the guest of honour. She watched Delirium closely: Unlike Morpheus, she had made no effort to dress or appear in any way differently, and her eyes were darting around the hall. It was hard to tell if she was curious or confused. Thalia settled on the latter because she constantly fidgeted in her seat, unable to sit still.

And while Apollo and Morpheus were engaged in polite conversation and Thalia fought her nerves, Delirium giggled at seemingly random moments or muttered something indistinguishable to herself. Thalia just wished she could sit next to her—it probably would have helped them both.

“My lady Delirium, you seem preoccupied,” Apollo addressed her with a smile.

Ever the gracious host, Thalia thought to herself, and the slight annoyance at his syrupy niceness made yet another appearance.

“Just the flickering candles, you know? Especially that one there. It reminds me of… something.”

“Pleasant memories, I hope?”

Delirium frowned. “I don’t think so. But it was… a while ago. I remember it was not nice at all. And I still don’t get why anyone would do that because… why would you? Do that? I mean, you can’t just kill these little things for fun, can you? When little critters are much better for having fun. Like, when I gave that copper the scratchy heebie-jeebies…” She burst out laughing and proceeded to cackle uncontrollably. Apollo looked surprised but amused, while Morpheus just closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. If Thalia was honest, Delirium’s laugh was contagious, if a tad unsettling, but she also knew that now wasn’t the time to join in. “Right Dream? You were there. Both times even. And with all the others the first time… well, apart from…” Her expression changed, and although she was still laughing, it seemed completely out of sorts. “Apart from our brother, you know? Isn’t that why we’re here?”

“I always enjoyed your penchant for playfulness, Bringer of the Surreal. You are never predictable, and I frequently find myself thinking that your realm is rather… sibylline,” Apollo chuckled.

“Not. Or… maybe? You are the oracular one, aren’t you? Right Dream, that’s why we’re here. Right?”

Morpheus glared at her. “You already asked this question, my sister.”

Apollo leaned in ever so slightly, but he did not attempt to lower his voice. “And does she have reason to ask this question, Oneiros?”

Every sound seemed dulled, and every movement slowed to a crawl. It took Morpheus a moment too long to reply. Before he did, he closed his eyes, and Thalia sensed that he did not wish to open them again to face what lay ahead.

“I do indeed, but perhaps it would be better to discuss these matters in surroundings that grant us more privacy.”

Apollo looked at him long and hard and then just nodded almost imperceptibly. “And do you wish to have this conversation forthwith?”

“I would certainly not wish to offend; I am more than glad to wait.”

“Humans have a pithy little proverb: ‘Never put off until tomorrow what can be done today.’ And dare I mention that I sense you would feel relieved if you had this conversation rather now than later?”

Morpheus bowed his head ever so slightly, but he didn’t smile. “Your observations are most astute, Healer of Wounds.”

Apollo smiled. “It has been a long time since anyone called me by that name. Humanity has long stopped praying to me for healing.”

“Well, that old peony root business never worked against feeling wonky in the head anyway, but what do I know…” Delirium spluttered, and this time, it was Thalia who threw her a death stare.

“Whatever you say, Lady of the Unfathomable.” Apollo turned towards Morpheus again. “Shall we?”

He just nodded and somewhat hesitantly rose from his seat. It was so apparent to Thalia that he just wanted to get whatever he was thinking about over and done with, and she wished she could have helped in any way.

“Please excuse us for now, ladies. I hope the food and entertainment provided will make up for our absence,” Apollo said with a slight bow and a smile.

Thalia tried to connect with Morpheus, but he seemingly made a conscious effort not to look at her. He was hanging on to control by a thread, and she watched as they left the hall.

The contrast between them was stark; both poised, but one radiated strength and self-assurance while the other seemed burdened and vulnerable. When the doors to the banquet hall swung open and they stepped outside, Apollo walked tall with a confident stride. And although Morpheus was taller, he somehow didn’t seem it; his steps were heavy tonight, his gaze distant and lost. And he didn’t look back at her or Delirium—not even once…

“He will be alright, won’t he?” Delirium’s voice pulled Thalia from her contemplation. She had moved from her seat, not worried about etiquette or being watched by the other guests. At least it seemed like it because she sat on the table next to Thalia and let her legs dangle.

“I hope so.” Thalia forced a smile…

Their footsteps barely created a sound on the grass. Dream tried to focus his mind. The scent of flowers hung in the air, all of the night-blossoming kind—moonflowers, night phlox, jasmine. It made him want to close his eyes and take a deep breath that had nothing to do with savouring their beauty, but rather with wanting to be any place but here.

He snapped himself out of it and fixed his eyes on the path ahead, hoping he would not betray that which was churning inside of him like the raging sea.

And although Apollo also stayed silent, Dream could perceive his subtle tension from the corner of his eye: in the way his fingers occasionally flexed, and even in the way he breathed. And the moment Apollo exhaled audibly, Dream knew the silence would be broken. But nothing could have prepared him for those four words:

“He is not yours.”

Dream did not consciously decide to stop walking—his legs simply refused to move. He did not even dare to look at Apollo and gazed into the distance when he said, “I do not understand.”

And the very moment he spoke those words, he knew they were a lie, because he did understand. Apollo’s words had just come so out of nowhere, so unexpectedly, that they completely floored him.

“I am aware you are seeking counsel because it is I who has oracular abilities…” Apollo paused. “Or at least I used to.” Dream briefly contemplated that he tried to tell him he didn’t have them any more, which did not bode well. “I sang at Eros’ and Psyche’s wedding, Oneiros. And this was long before fewer and fewer people started worshipping me; I was powerful back then.”

“What are you trying to tell me?”

“That I could always perceive who the boy was, and that your fears are unfounded.”

“My fears of what?” Dream felt the bitter sting of aggravation entering his very being.

Apollo gave him a measured look. “Let us continue to walk, Oneiros. The body prefers movement when the mind comes to a halt.”

The onslaught of thoughts was anything but Dream’s mind coming to a halt. And yet, they kept walking in silence, neither making the first move to continue their conversation. And Dream wasn’t sure if he even could; his mind was racing, spiralling. Flashing images that felt like an attack in one moment and something treasured in the next until they settled on one:

Iris.

Her hair a waterfall of light. Her deep violet eyes the promise of a thousand dawns when he had thought he might never see the sun again. Her movements not like the storm he had been getting so used to, but rather akin to a gentle breeze. And for the briefest of moments, she had given light to days as black as the night.

Neither of them had ever intended to let it be more than the distraction it was: She had been bound to another she had no intention to leave, he had been disinterested in the prospect of ever opening himself again to as much pain as he had experienced—and inflicted. Only that the latter had not been clear to him at that point, and Iris had not been like Nada, nor had she been like Calliope would be. And perhaps therein lay the reason he had not been aware of the pain she was going through. Perhaps because no one had told him. But perhaps, he simply should have known?

Whatever options he was turning around in his head, the fact remained that Iris had not held enough trust in him to share the unfathomable: that she thought the boy-child she had given birth to was his, as unlikely as it might have seemed. And she had also never told him that she was so worried Eros would bear his semblance that she decided to give him away, to Aphrodite no less. That Aphrodite would come to play a part in Eros’ entanglements with Psyche. And that he, himself, would nearly destroy the boy’s prospects of happiness just because of what he was, because of what people and even Gods believed. Because he would always be what they needed him to be.

Shaping while being shaped…

Dream could not be certain if he had sighed or used his voice in some way that made Apollo break the silence—but he did.

“It might not be my place to ask this question, Oneiros, but what about the prospect of Eros being your own worried you?”

Dream’s quiet laugh sounded more bitter than intended. “It did not worry me. Until quite recently, I did not even perceive it as a possibility. It was by mere…” He swallowed hard. “…chance I found out it might be so.”

Apollo raised one eyebrow. “The goddess clearly was worried about it. Enough to give up the child. Had she consulted me, I could have told her back then that the boy was indeed the son of Zephyros, not yours. Isn’t it strange how the ones we have been connected to most deeply often have the least trust in us?” His voice trailed off.

“What are you trying to imply?”

Dream’s question brought Apollo back from wherever his mind seemed to have rested for a moment, and he smiled wearily. “Oh, I was not thinking about you. I was thinking of myself. If it were not for Iris, I might not even exist.” Dream found himself blinking. “Had she not alerted Eileithyia to my mother’s strife, who knows what would have happened.”

“The dreamers wanted you to exist.”

Apollo looked away into the distance. “Or so they tell us. And then they bestow upon us powers unimaginable, only to forget about us and take it all away again.” He looked at Dream again and the smile came back. “But we need not trouble ourselves with such workings, do we?” His eyes rested on him. “You seem calm. Relieved even.”

Dream found it hard to gather his thoughts. “I cannot be certain because I…”

“Eros is not Orpheus, Oneiros.”

He immediately stiffened. “One thing does not have anything to do with the other.”

“Does it not? We all heard what happened then. Or even saw it coming.” Apollo cast down his eyes for the briefest of moments. When he looked at Dream again, there was some unspoken sadness… no, outright grief, in his expression. “And yet, we cannot always prevent it. I knew what would happen to the son of Clio, and I often wonder if it might have been the very thing that brought it on.”

Dream pushed aside the agonising feeling that began to take hold of him. “The flowers which sprang from his blood are still amongst the most beautiful and fragrant ones to be found anywhere.”

Apollo swallowed hard. “Perhaps they are.” The smile was back, but it seemed laboured. “And isn’t it strange how the West Wind seems to have influenced us both in ways we might have understood too late?”

“It is not a thought that holds much significance to me.”

“Of course it does not.” He chuckled but almost immediately narrowed his eyes. “I might have lost most of my oracular abilities, but I can still tell when thoughts are weighing heavily on someone’s mind. Even yours, Dream Lord. And I am beginning to think that what I assumed led you here, as significant as it might be in its own way, is not really what brought you here.”

“You perceive the truth.” This was it. There was no way back now. “I am here because the Lady Delirium will not let go of the thought that she has to find our lost brother. And I had hoped you might be able to assist since you are one of the last remaining seers.” He inhaled sharply. “But I have learned that you might have lost the gift I had hoped for.”

The frown was instantaneous. “Even when I still had the gift, I would not have dared to use it in connection with those of the Apeiron. And I am surprised you would even contemplate I would be more powerful, even at the height of…”

“This is not a question of power, but one of the deepest workings of the universe. Or destiny…” And when he spoke those very words, he knew he only had one option left. Two, perhaps if he counted giving up the search, which he quickly dismissed because he would not let his sister down again. He had promised her to see it through, which made it his responsibility to bring it all to an end.

Apollo’s voice brought him back. “If you let me know what it is you require, I might be able to assist in another way.”

Dream smiled mildly. “Unless you can tell me the whereabouts of Olethros, I fear there is nothing you can do.”

“You are most certainly right.” There was a hesitancy in those words that Dream did not desire to think about. And Apollo’s eyes held all the grief of the world when he said, “I know it is not my place, Oneiros, but I will speak regardless: When the universe seeks to destroy a thing, it entrusts its destruction to the thing itself. Those who seek it will usually find it...”

Chapter Text

“What happened?”

Morpheus didn’t reply, but he looked even whiter than usual.

“Are you okay? Please talk to me—don’t make me beg again,” Thalia said, taking his hands. He just kept his eyes fixed on them.

His voice was almost inaudible as he slowly sat down on the bed, but he kept holding her hands. “None of the tidings I received were in any way what I expected.”

Thalia knelt in front of him and shuffled between his legs, which made him smile for the briefest of moments before his face turned expressionless.

“Apollo cannot help us to find the Prodigal.” He hesitated for the briefest of moments. “Or at least that is what he told me.”

Her disappointment was crushing, but she tried to hide it. “What now?”

It was the moment his eyes connected with hers, and he brushed a strand of hair from her brow. “Do you remember when I disappeared and returned after you had your vision?”

“Of course I do.”

“Back then, I had asked another of the Gods for assistance, but she could not help me either. My last hope rested on Apollo because he is one of the remaining seers. Or so I thought.” The smile that quickly drained from his face again made him seem utterly lost. “The only option left is to ask Destiny…”

“Destiny is your brother. He will surely be able to help you?”

Morpheus sighed. “He will tell me what needs to happen in his usual cryptic ways. He also told me what needed to happen after I had met you.” His eyes filled with tears. “I just understood it far too late, otherwise you might still be alive.”

Thalia quickly cupped his face and just kissed him, whispering. “Stop. I’m where I want to be.”

Morpheus gently pulled back and just nodded before wiping the tears from his eyes. It was strange to witness—there was no poise in it, no elegance or control. It hardly felt like him, and something about it looked so… human it made her heart ache.

He exhaled and regained a semblance of composure. “I also received other news… Perhaps they are a relief, despite adding to the futility of your fate…”

“Morpheus, please, don’t start a-…”

“Eros is not my son.”

The words hit Thalia like a ton of bricks. The idea that Morpheus’ and Iris’ affair had been used as leverage to get to him, by his own mother no less, and that Thalia had been the vessel for causing so much pain, still hurt. But after the initial impact, she noticed it hurt far less than she might have expected. And yet, she felt helpless and didn’t know what to say. All she could come up with was, “How are you feeling?”

He looked at her for so long that she couldn’t be sure if he truly considered answering, but she found herself incapable of ending the silence.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally decided to speak.

“Like a weight has been lifted. The burden of fatherhood is enough to bear once.”

And with that, he removed himself from her proximity and walked to the balcony. The light of the moon framed his silhouette, and all Thalia could perceive was that somehow, no weight had been lifted at all, and how heavily his thoughts were bearing down on him. And although she could not exactly know what caused him so much agony, it was also painful for her.

Thalia got up and slowly walked towards him until she was close enough to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Is there anything I can do?”

He laid his hand on hers before he turned around to face her.

“I will need to commence this journey with my sister, and you will need to go back to the Dreaming.”

“Why? I think I should…”

Morpheus just shook his head; his decision was definite and final, and she knew.

“Some paths can only be walked by me, and I cannot be sure where this one is leading. But I know for certain that you cannot walk it with me.”

“How can you say that when part of me is a part of you? In every possible way?”

He laid one hand on her cheek. “That is precisely why.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You need to trust me when I say it is a path you cannot and will not walk—I forbid it. And this time, you need to promise that you will not try to defy me.” His eyes, deep and infinite as the night sky, swallowed everything in their dejection. And yet, their inky black faintly shimmered as if the entire universe were reaching out to her, seeking to bridge a fear of being misunderstood with a plea for reason. It was heartbreaking.

“I promise,” she whispered, and she knew this time, she had to keep that promise.

He just wrapped her arms around her and held her tight like a drowning man clinging to driftwood, and it frightened her. “Is there really nothing I can do?” she mumbled into his shoulder.

He pulled back and looked at her for the longest time. He had looked at her like this before—every time he had said goodbye and thought it was for good.

“Morpheus, don’t do this, please. Don’t look at me like that. None of this is worth it. Call off the search. You…”

He cut her off by kissing her, finally letting go. And she felt it there and then: that kiss was a goodbye. She could taste his tears, sweet, salty and bitter, speaking of a love that was slipping through his fingers.

A love like the soft light of the moon, enduring, patient and forgiving.

But there was also the love that burned with the fire of the sun, capable of igniting a soul.

A love all-consuming, filled with desire, longing and the ability to burn so brightly that it would destroy anything in its path.

He was the serene and steadfast river creating ripples and the tempestuous ocean with its crashing waves, all at once.

And both left marks on everything they touched. One profound and slowly transformative, the other creating an aching void and haunting memories of what once was.

Juxtapositions.

Too much and yet too little.

And the memories of that night when he had said goodbye in her studio came flooding back, and she began to sob.

“Don’t you dare do this to me again,” she cried while pulling back and clasping his face with both hands so he had to look at her. “Tell me this isn’t a goodbye—that’s what you have to promise me!”

“I promise I do not wish to leave you.”

“That’s a fucking cop-out, and you know it!”

He was entirely calm. “And yet, it is the truth.”

And she knew it was true, which made it all the more haunting.

“Can you promise me another thing?”

He cast down his eyes. “I will try.”

“Will you keep me in the loop while you’re gone? Not knowing what was going on and yet feeling you weren’t okay was agony for me the last time. At least check in with me.”

Morpheus chuckled, and it took her by surprise. “Will you try to convince me to get one of these infernal machines humans are so fond of and glued to all day?”

“You mean a mobile phone?” The thought was so absurd she couldn’t help but laugh.

He nodded. “And before you ask: Yes, I know how they work. And no, I don’t require one. Not in this world, or in any other.”

“I wasn’t asking you to get one, and you’re deflecting.”

Morpheus turned serious. “I apologise. Also for previously causing you anguish. I will try to ’keep you in the loop’.” He couldn’t look into her eyes when he proceeded. “May I bring forth a request before I leave?”

The way he said it renewed her worry. “Yes.”

His eyes stayed firmly fixed on their twined hands. “You know that asking for…” He exhaled through his nose. “It has always been hard for me. It still is. However, I have concluded that, on occasion, it is advantageous to do so, and…”

Thalia half-sighed, half-laughed. “Can you just ask without tying yourself into knots?”

Still no eye contact. “I wish to be held by you. Perhaps more than that. I could just… initiate what I… But I thought it wiser to ask because…”

Thalia put her index finger under his chin and gently lifted it. “Please look at me.” He did so hesitantly. “Why are you agonising over asking me to love you?”

Morpheus swallowed and closed his eyes. And although he did not speak his reply out loud, she perceived it loud and clear:

For fear that one day, you might say no.

Thalia kissed him very lightly. “Even if I said no to making love to you, it wouldn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“I know, and yet…” He hesitantly opened his eyes to look at her.

She kissed him again. “I am not saying no.”

“But are you saying yes?”

This time, she kissed him in a way she knew would immediately set him alight. And he wrapped her in his embrace, and she just wished he would never let go again.

“Yes, I do.”

It was all there was to say…

When Thalia woke up, he was gone. She hardly ever slept; her body was just a projection and didn’t really need that kind of rest, although she still didn’t truly understand the mechanics of it all. Her mind was an entirely different affair, but sleep was usually not what she instinctively resorted to when she felt exhausted. If she ever decided to sleep, it was usually because she consciously chose to remember what it felt like, just like choosing to eat or drink.

However, right now, it was crystal clear that her falling asleep had been his doing. The thought that he would use his power over her in this way made her angry for a moment. But she also knew that he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t have good reasons. Perhaps he hadn’t felt strong enough for a goodbye; perhaps he had thought she wouldn’t be. Both notions seemed foolish; they had been through so much worse. And that very thought tore at her because she knew it meant it had to be bad.

And all of this meant Thalia would need to return to the Dreaming on her own. While she got herself ready, she feverishly thought about how to excuse herself. Obviously, she needed to ascertain Delirium had gone, too, but she was in no real doubt. Her hand flinched away from the door to her quarters because she heard a knock. Thalia wondered for a hot second what etiquette she did or didn’t have to adhere to, and then settled on quickly tiptoeing back towards the middle of the room. Her voice didn’t sound very convincing when she called, “Come in!”

A woman dressed in a simple yet elegant tunic entered, dark hair flowing down her back. She moved with an effortless grace, but her green, piercing eyes spoke of a somewhat unyielding spirit. So did her voice when she began to speak. “My name is Cyrene, and I was sent by the divine Apollo to make sure you are not lacking in anything while you are still his guest.” She paused for a moment before commencing with a slightly lowered voice. “The divine Apollo also wishes to speak to you but has decided to send me in his stead to ascertain he would not be intruding.” Her eyes darted to the ground briefly before she looked up again. “I have been tasked with asking if he may enter your quarters, or if you would be more comfortable meeting in a… more neutral setting.”

Thalia immediately felt awkward; not so much at the question, but rather at what it implied: She would not have found it in any way discombobulating if her host had decided to knock on her door herself. Thinking of it, maybe she would have? Should she have?

It didn’t matter.

“Where is he?”

Cyrene looked straight into her eyes. “He is waiting outside. Shall I inform him you will be joining him?”

Thalia nodded. Part of her would have preferred if he had come inside—the thought of wandering around outside, prying eyes and overeager ears, made her wonder if this was a good idea. On the other hand, it seemed it was what he preferred, and Thalia trusted her instincts that it might be the wiser option.

Cyrene disappeared for several minutes. Thalia paced up and down her room and was just beginning to wonder what took her so long when she returned. “You may join the Light of the Sun.”

Thalia frowned. “Is he outside in the courtyard?”

“Yes, he is. However, I was using an honorific. He is the Bringer of Light—the Light of the Sun.” The warmth in Thalia’s face undoubtedly translated into visible high colour because Cyrene smiled and cast down her eyes briefly before looking at her again. “Please follow me…”

Chapter Text

Thalia felt the hesitancy in her steps when she approached Apollo. For a moment, she contemplated lifting her chin to look more self-assured and determined, but why? Nothing about this was normal, nothing about it suggested she had to be in control of anything. In fact, all she wanted to do was scream. She managed to distract herself by wondering if it had been a good idea to wear a dress the colour of the night sky, adorned with silver embroidery.

Too on the nose?

She quickly dismissed the thought.

Apollo’s eyes betrayed a hint of unease, even though he almost instantaneously reverted to his usual smile.

“I thank you for answering my call,” he said softly with a bow so minuscule he might as well not have done it at all. Thalia couldn’t reason as to why she felt so on edge, apart from that nothing about this felt right.

Now or never…

“As you will undoubtedly know, Lord Morpheus and Lady Delirium have resumed their journey without me.”

The brief ensuing silence felt heavy. “Yes, I am. And I dare say I am glad you have stayed behind.”

Thalia felt a strange sense of foreboding, like being pulled towards something inevitable. Her mouth was so dry her voice nearly gave out when she asked, “And why would that be?”

“My lady, you are not of the Apeiron, even if you are bound to them. Journeying with them is not a sane undertaking for one such as you. Especially not if…”

“We are bound to each other, and we have been for a while. I trust him.” Thalia noticed a second too late that she had just interrupted a god. And if she was completely honest with herself, she didn’t care one bit.

Apollo just smiled as usual, but this time, it seemed genuine and less practised. “Neither did I mean to imply that your trust in Lord Morpheus is misplaced.” He hesitated, and his smile lingered for an instant, as if holding on to it would change anything. But then, like a cloud passing over the sun, his expression began to change. The light in his eyes dimmed, and his lips pressed together in a thin line. The transformation was subtle yet noticeable, and it instilled a sense of nervousness in Thalia she found impossible to fight any longer.

“You haven’t lost your ability to see, have you? You still have the gift of foresight. Why did you…”

Apollo shook his head. “My gifts are not what they used to be, and I truthfully cannot provide the answers Lord Morpheus and Lady Delirium seek. However, you are right to assume that some of my abilities remain, and it is enough for me to know that no good will come from the path they are walking.”

“You could have told him! You should have held him back!” Thalia found it challenging to fight the anger and desperation that came over her in waves.

“It is not up to me to tell one of the Apeiron which path to follow. Or get involved in the workings of what might be considered destiny.”

“What is it with you… beings that you are always so keen to assume everything is destined in some way? Nothing is predetermined, it is not…”

“…in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves?”

Thalia wasn’t sure if she felt mildly embarrassed or extremely annoyed. More than likely both. “Yes!”

Apollo looked at her closely. “I gave him the best advice I possibly could, everything considered.”

“Which is?”

“I told him that the universe entrusts the destruction of a thing it seeks to destroy to the thing itself. And that those who seek destruction will usually find it…”

Thalia’s patience was beginning to wear thin. “What does that even mean? And how is it helpful in any way?!”

Apollo just gathered the fabric of his simple white tunic and sat down cross-legged. “Sit with me.” Seeing him on the ground like this, barefoot and in garments that didn’t seem particularly godly, overrode Thalia’s initial reluctance. She made sure to keep a distance that felt appropriate, her legs somewhat tucked to the side and away from him. And then she waited. And waited.

Just when she was about to break the silence because she couldn’t bear it any longer, he spoke.

“When I said that those who seek destruction will usually find it, I meant it. No one, and I truly mean no one, will be touched by destruction and come out unscathed. The idea to seek Lord Morpheus’ brother is foolish. Only someone like the Lady Delirium could get entangled in such an idea…” He hesitated. “Possibly because she has far less to worry about than her brother.”

Thalia’s throat felt tight. “I don’t understand.”

He absentmindedly began to run his hand through the grass and wrapped a blade around his finger. “She is already broken. It is part of what she is. Lord Morpheus, on the other hand…”

She felt anger in her chest that was hard to push down. “We are all broken in one way or another, but that doesn’t mean…”

“It is not the kind of broken I am talking about. I tried to warn him, but I fear he is too set in his ways to even consider giving up the search before it is too late.”

And as much as Thalia wanted to tell Apollo that he should trust Morpheus and he knew what he was doing, she also knew he was right. Not least because she had felt that terrible dread herself for quite a while now, and the fact that she had initially encouraged him weighed heavier on her by the day.

“Is there nothing you can do?” she whispered.

“I fear not. I hold on to the hope that he would not find him, because if one of the Apeiron does not wish to be found, they might not be found. And I truly do not know the whereabouts of Olethros. But I am near certain I know who does…”

Thalia waited again, but the weight of something heavy visibly curved Apollo’s shoulders. His fingers twitched almost imperceptibly, as if he were reaching for the right words. It was the kind of hesitation that didn’t strike her as uncertainty but rather as the compassion of someone who had grown too close to suffering, who understood that sometimes, knowledge was a burden rather than a gift.

“Please…” Thalia reached out her hand and put it on his. In that moment, it truly didn’t occur to her it could be considered a gesture of entitlement or irreverence because all she felt was the quiet desperation of having exhausted all other paths.

When her skin met his, he didn’t flinch away. All boundaries dissolved, and hierarchies were momentarily suspended. And she couldn’t help it when she said, “Prophecy without compassion is cruel, knowledge without empathy is violence. I know this. But I also have to know what to expect. How I can help, what I can do. Please tell me. I already know he is going to ask Destiny.”

Apollo’s gaze became distant. “Alas, it will not give him the answers he seeks.” He refocused. “But asking his son may.”

The words landed in Thalia’s body before her mind could grasp them, a visceral blow that hit somewhere beneath her ribs. If her semblance of lungs usually felt like they were still doing their job properly, they had certainly forgotten their rhythm now, stuttering between half-breaths as if she’d never learned how to breathe at all.

Asking. His. Son. May.

Daggers somehow dismantling her future mercilessly one stab at a time, and her mind didn’t understand why. But her body did, and she felt everything fracture around her, the moment before and after Apollo’s words opening like a fault line. Fear mapped itself across her nerve endings in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“Why would he ask his son?” was all her nearly failing voice could mutter.

“Because he is one of the few remaining oracles. And because he sees things that only family can see.”

Thalia shook her head in that desperate way that belongs to the body's rejection of a truth it knows it can’t deny. And some deeper part of her recognised it was futile; it had already begun to convert into a million questions. And one of those questions made it to the surface.

“Why does it scare me? All I ever wanted for him was to make peace with his son, and now I’m frightened. I don’t understand.”

“Do you really wish to hear what I can perceive?”

Thalia just nodded.

“Olethros has chosen absence, has carved from the universe a place where responsibility could not follow. Seeking him is not just a violation of his sanctuary but also of the unspoken covenant between siblings: the agreement to honour each other's, perhaps necessary, fictions. The ripples from this transgression will spread outward.

But Orpheus is condemned to eternal partial living by his grief and his inability to let it go. He will seek an end to what remains of his life in exchange for his… gift.”

As Thalia grappled with what these words might imply, Apollo’s gaze became distant again. “I cannot see much, but I can see Orpheus’ eyes, so like his father’s yet softened by his mother's. They hold no condemnation, only an understanding that binds them. And Oneiros will bear the twin burden of… showing mercy to his son and the knowledge that he set in motion the workings of his own undoing.”

Thalia felt numb. Apollo’s eyes became clear again and connected with hers, but he did not speak. He only waited.

“What are you trying to imply?”

“That by seeking a brother who abandoned his function, he will fulfil his completely: Dreams contain the seeds of their own destruction the moment they are born.”

Thalia was scared to utter these words in case it made them come true, and yet she couldn’t prevent them from tumbling out her mouth: “I thought it is impossible for him to die?”

Apollo exhaled deeply. “Filicide will have consequences, even for one such as Oneiros. In what way remains to be seen, but trust there are ancient forces at play that go deeper than anything we can ever comprehend.”

Bringing the word filicide out in the open shattered Thalia’s last remaining hopes, despite having known, deep down, what had been implied all along. And whatever consequence it would bear on a cosmic scale, she knew that the consequence to him would be all that mattered. And it would destroy him. “Is there no other way?”

“The only way is to either give up the search for his brother…”

“Which he won’t…”

“…or to find a way to prevent him from asking his son.”

The way Apollo looked at her briefly made her feel a renewed sense of hope. “Is there such a thing?”

“Not a thing, but a person. Although a thing might aid…”

“That’s very cryptic,” she huffed.

Apollo smiled. “The person is you.”

She didn’t understand. “How?”

“I am unable to tell you how exactly, but I can feel it, and I am near certain you will have felt it yourself.”

Thalia remembered her strange recent vision, but she still wasn’t clear on what it had tried to tell her bar leaving Morpheus.

“I had a…” She was loath to use the word. “.…vision recently, but it somehow didn’t feel as if it came… It didn’t feel like me. It rather felt like someone just… put it inside my head? And it told me to leave and protect myself, not him.”

Apollo took her hand between his, just like she had done, seemingly also not worried about the appropriateness of the touch. “You are already wearing one of the dreamstones. Hope and sense of purpose, wonder and vision…”

“…renewal and peace, I know.”

Apollo smiled, but it only lasted for a moment. “Seek the one that will help you find clarity and the truth.”

“But how? I have no idea where to even start looking.” A wave of desperation came over her.

“You do. Trust yourself and remember…”

Chapter Text

There were no iron bars here, and yet, Thalia felt caged. Since she had returned to the Dreaming alone, she had desperately tried to decipher Apollo’s words.

What was the gift?

Was it within herself? Was it one of the dreamstones? Both?

Her head was spinning, and a deep part of her just wanted to run away. She felt like wearing shoes five sizes too big—no grip and hopelessly stumbling around in something that was not meant for her. Yet here she was, trying to make everything fit.

The waves of anger came and went. She knew she wasn’t always the best communicator, but this was absolutely ridiculous:

Why on earth, or any place else for that matter, could none of these people, deities, whatever they were, speak without being ambiguous?

Why did she need to figure out everything herself when she couldn’t shake the feeling that all of this was politics, and they knew?

Why did everything have to be complicated and cryptic?

Why could nothing ever be straightforward?

And then she remembered Morpheus had once told her that the nature of dreams was that they held all the answers if she was just willing to listen. Back then, she had believed it. Now, she just felt defeated, as if everything had conspired against her as soon as she had felt just a modicum of happiness.

The sapphire around her neck was heavy.

“Hope is fucking tiresome,” she mumbled to herself.

There was no “vision” to be found within a hundred-mile radius, nor a “sense of purpose”, nor any kind of “peace”. And the “wonder” was a ginormous question mark that occupied her entire brain, or whatever it was that wobbled around in her head these days.

Her hand came to rest on the jewel, and it was colder to the touch than she had ever experienced before. Some deep part of her felt an urge to take it off. She knew it was possible, and that she was the only one who could remove it. At least that’s what Morpheus had told her. Just like he had told her that she wouldn’t remember him. Or that he refused to tear down the walls he had built so she would never see him again. Neither had exactly turned out to be true and worked out quite differently in the end, and she wondered if she truly was the only one who could remove the thing that had slowly begun to feel like a millstone around her neck. Not because she didn’t love him, because of that, she was certain. It was the agonising responsibility of something she had never asked for, something she felt incapable of.

Something that was simply too big for her, and that she didn’t understand.

Thalia caught herself exhaling noisily through her nose, just like he did when he was tetchy or impatient. And that was the moment when she remembered.

Remembered the promise they had made to each other.

Remembered that, although he would never, ever admit it, he needed her right now.

Remembered that for all the anger, irritation and confusion she felt, it had always been him, even long before they had met.

Remembered that she had always known he existed, and that she had been bound to what he was long before she had learned who he was.

Remembered that she loved everything he was and everything he stood for, and it would even be true had she never become bound to his human form.

And it was enough.

It was the moment she knew what she had to do…

“Lucienne, where is the topaz?”

Lucienne’s quill hovered midair, and the ensuing silence equally hovered between them. Just when Thalia began to get impatient, Lucienne put her quill down and adjusted her glasses. “My lady?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a lot of time to explain this, but he… Lord Morpheus told me that he gave you a topaz once…” She hesitated briefly. “For safekeeping. Which I’m sure you did. I need it.”

Lucienne narrowed her eyes. “For what exactly?” And it seemed as if she immediately reigned herself in. “If you don’t mind my asking, of course…”

Thalia felt hot and cold at once. How to explain?

“I… well, I think he’s in trouble and…”

“In trouble? Whatever it is, my lady, I assure you he will come out on the other side. He always does.”

Thalia’s voice dropped to near inaudible levels. “Not this time, I fear.”

Lucienne got up from her chair and walked around the desk. “Even if he were in trouble, as you call it, I am afraid I cannot give you the jewel. It is completely out of the question, the implications are…”

“He might not come back from this, Lucienne!”

The forcefulness in Thalia’s tone made Lucienne flinch. “Might not come back from what?”

Her nails were digging into her palms, and it began to hurt, so she unclenched her fists and shook her hands lightly while Lucienne kept her eyes fixed on hers.

“He is going to ask his son.” Thalia hadn’t even noticed how dry her throat was until those words came out like a croaky mess.

Lucienne slowly sank to the edge of her desk and sat down. “About what? And why-ever would he ask his son?”

“Lucienne, I am sure you would know? He is an oracle. He is their last remaining hope to find their brother because Apollo…” She shook her head. “Never mind. But you have to trust me on this. I can feel it in my bones that the consequences of these travels will be devastating. And that was before Apollo confirmed it.”

“He confirmed what exactly?” Lucienne’s voice sounded slightly on edge, and Thalia couldn’t blame her.

“Apollo said…” The choking, all too familiar grip of tears she tried to fight down made it near impossible to continue, but she did. “He said that his son will seek an end to his life in exchange for his… gift.” She could barely look at Lucienne.

“These were his actual words?” Thalia nodded. “That does not have to imply Lord Morpheus will…”

“Lucienne, please! What else is it supposed to mean? Apollo very clearly enunciated a word I really didn’t want to hear, and that word was ‘filicide’.”

“But that would mean…” Lucienne stopped herself and shook her head vigorously. “No, I am sure there will be another way.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought there were. Apollo told me to seek the dreamstone that will provide clarity and the truth. And I really can’t think of…” The tears finally started to fall, but Thalia didn’t sob. Her voice was so quiet that she couldn’t be certain if it was loud enough to be heard or understood, for that matter. “I am desperate, Lucienne.”

“I understand, my lady, but you have no idea what you are asking of me. I cannot give you the gem with a good conscience.”

“Then fucking do it with a bad one!!!” Her strength had resurfaced, fuelled by helpless anger. Lucienne hadn’t flinched in the slightest, and yet, Thalia immediately wished she had been more in control of her words. “I’m sorry, Lucienne, I…”

“Wait here. Don’t move. Don’t even think about following me.” And with that, she just left…

Thalia noticed the blood on her left index finger. She had absentmindedly picked at her cuticles, a bad habit she hadn’t indulged in since she had been in her 20s—and very much alive. Once again, she caught herself wondering why her body, which wasn’t really a body and yet it was, still did these things. It made absolutely no sense if one thought about it too closely, but now wasn’t the time to think. Now was the time to act.

However, Lucienne was taking her time. Maybe Thalia had offended her, and she felt bad about having lost her temper. What if Lucienne wasn’t coming back? Nonsense, she might not come back to her, but she would never leave the Dreaming. She was bound to it and at the same time stayed out of her own free will, as paradoxical as that might have sounded. It was the one thing both shared.

Thalia looked out of the stained-glass windows but could make out nothing apart from the sea of colours that felt far too bright right now. Or maybe it didn’t; maybe a bit of brightness and colour was precisely what she needed, but it was challenging to find the inner strength to keep thinking that way.

The sound of approaching footsteps took her out of her thoughts. Thalia turned around within an instant and saw Lucienne coming down the aisle, a face like thunder.

She is angry at me.

Thalia felt her fingers twitching and was just about to utter an apology when Lucienne began to speak. “Whatever happens, do not ever let him know I gave you this.” She outstretched her hand with a clenched fist that only seemed to loosen very reluctantly. She finally opened it to reveal a small, black velvet jewellery bag. Thalia found herself thinking that it looked somewhat minute; she couldn’t quite tell what she had expected, but this was not it. It was barely the size of a third of Lucienne’s palm.

Thalia hesitantly took the pouch. “Thank you, Lucienne. I will not forget this.”

Lucienne lifted her chin. “I sincerely hope you won’t, because after whatever you have to do with it… once you are done… I will require it back.”

“For safekeeping?”

“For safekeeping.” There was no levity in her voice. “And I still cannot help but think that this is anything but safe.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if…”

“Please do whatever you have to do and keep me out of it.”

Thalia felt the heat rising in her face. And she really didn’t want to, but she knew she had to ask. “How…”

Lucienne raised her hands in front of her chest immediately. “I am afraid you will need to find this out on your own. I cannot and will not get involved in this any further than I already am.”

And with that, she stepped aside and made what seemed like a conscious effort not to look at her. Thalia knew it was her time to leave…

The topaz rested in Thalia’s palm. Its amber shade reminded her of autumn, and when she began to turn it slowly, it reflected the light in a way that eerily mirrored her somewhat stuttering heartbeat.

The gem was small, maybe the size of a big hazelnut, but it was heavy, as if it contained something… compressed? What appeared clear from one angle revealed itself as slightly cloudy and opaque from another, much like the way some things had appeared so clear to her until the harshness of deeper understanding made them anything but.

Thalia still had no idea how to use the stone, what to do with it, or where to begin. A wave of feeling immensely alone hit her, and she could feel her eyes welling up.

“No, not now,” she said to herself and exhaled. And out of nothing, she felt a strong impulse to press the topaz against the hollow of her neck. The gem’s coolness gradually warmed to match the temperature of her skin. Her instincts told her to briefly hold it against her forehead, and it turned cool again. In that moment, she recognised that knowledge sometimes pretended to be true, and she didn’t even understand where that sudden thought came from. All she knew was that this kind of knowledge —or maybe non-knowledge? Even wrong knowledge?— could exist in such proximity to fear that they began to mirror each other.

But they were not the same.

When she brought her hand down to look at the topaz again, she finally understood it reflected the situation she currently found herself in: Her grip was too tight, obstructed the light and distorted everything. Yet here she was, unable to just let go.

All she knew was that the stone didn’t point toward a single direction, that it tried to tell her she had to carve out a different path. That something was missing, something that she needed to find, and the topaz alone would not be enough to guide her.

“But what else?” She whispered to herself, eyes closed, turning the topaz over and over in her hand until it hit her.

“Shit, it’s the wrong dreamstone…”