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go-to-the-mirror · 6 months

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Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)

Relationships: Eleventh Doctor & Dream Lord (Doctor Who), Eleventh Doctor & The Doctor's TARDIS

Characters: Eleventh Doctor (Doctor Who), The Doctor's TARDIS, Dream Lord (Doctor Who)

Additional Tags: Whumptober, Whumptober 2023, Dreams, Background Rory Williams, Mentioned Amy Pond (Doctor Who), Mentioned Sister of Mine (Doctor Who), Mirrors, Episode: s05e07 Amy's Choice, Post-Episode: s05e07 Amy’s Choice, Title from a Tally Hall Song, No Beta We Die Like Rory, Implied/Referenced Sex

Language: English

Published: 2023-10-16

Words: 761

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He could almost think he was imagining it in the reflection of the control panel, his own paranoia playing off what he’d just dreamed, but this is a full body view and the face staring back at him is not his own. --- After “Amy’s Choice” the Dream Lord isn’t gone. --- Written for Whumptober 2023. Prompt used is “Leave me alone.”

Mirrors are not exactly the Doctor’s friend.

He really has no idea what he was thinking when he trapped — what was it called, the sister? — in the mirror. Probably something about righteous fury and avenging all who died because he ran and hid.

She looks at him through a dead girl’s eyes, but she’s not who he’s looking at. He could almost think he was imagining it in the reflection of the control panel, his own paranoia playing off what he’d just dreamed, but this is a full body view and the face staring back at him is not his own.

“What are you doing here?” he mutters, just as Rory enters.

“You invited me!”

The Doctor spins around to face him. “Rory!” He smiles brightly and puts his arm around Rory’s shoulders. “How are you, has Amy decided where to go next?”

“She says she wants to rest for a bit.”

“More rest?” the Doctor asks. “You’d think we’ve slept enough.”

“Apparently it wasn’t restful enough?” Rory answers, seemingly as confused as the Doctor regarding his fiancée’s antics. “But afterwards she’s thinking Rio?”

The Doctor grins. “Rio! Lovely place. Tell her she makes good choices.”

“I will,” Rory says with a smile. The Doctor waits for him to leave, then turns back to face the mirror.

It’s just him. Just him and a little girl holding a balloon, but she’s par for the course.

---

“Why are you all fixed?” the Doctor asks his TARDIS. She’s the only one to talk to, really, with Rory and Amy sleeping, probably in heavy quotation marks, but he’s not good at that sort of thing. “You’re always in need of repairs when I’m busy, but when I need something to do, suddenly you’re in tiptop shape!”

The TARDIS feels something that the Doctor could perceive as self-satisfied.

“It’s inconsiderate, frankly. First you give us shared dreams that feed on our insecurities, self-loathing, and darkness, and now you’re not even a little bit broken.

“Well,” the Doctor reconsiders. “Technically you are broken, but I’m not fixing that, it’s lovely.”

The Doctor sits down cross-legged, leaning against the control panel. “Don’t tell Amy or Rory, but I’m a bit tired too.

“But I don’t want to go to sleep, I just…. I don’t. So I need you to quietly blow a fuse, or something, so I can do something with my hands.”

The TARDIS feels… concerned, he thinks. Concern is a difficult emotion, it feels all together too much like pity.

“I’ve already slept a lot today.”

Annoyance, now. It sort of twinges.

“Look, if I go to sleep now, I’m going to have a nightmare, and I’m going to feel worse than if I don’t sleep.”

Judgement? She feels judgmental. It’s hard to put a name on things sometimes. She definitely doesn’t think he’s right.

“Besides, they say you shouldn’t sleep after stressful events — don’t correct me.”

Ah, disapproval. It hurts, just a bit.

“You know, maybe you’re part of the reason why it fed off me, because it’s not just me in my head judging every choice I have.”

And now she’s hurt too.

The Doctor sighs. “Maybe you’re right. Just a quick nap, get my head back in order.”

She’s still hurt.

“I’m sorry.”

She forgives him, that’s clear, but the pain hasn’t gone away. The Doctor tries to ignore that little curdle of guilt inside his stomach.

---

“She’s the problem now?”

The Doctor looks up to see the Dream Lord standing over him. He looks smug.

“You’re in my dream now.”

“You noticed?”

The Doctor gets to his feet. “You’re just pollen.”

“I’m you,” the Dream Lord counters. “You can’t get rid of me.”

“If you’re me, get back inside my head.”

“You keep it all shut so tight, Doctor,” the Dream Lord says. “Like if you shove it down far enough you can pretend none of it’s real.”

“I don’t pretend it’s not real.”

“What did you tell Amy when she asked about your children, hm?”

The Doctor is silent.

“Did you tell her who killed them?”

“Leave me alone.”

“You didn’t. I know you didn’t, I’m the one who didn’t.”

“It wasn’t relevant—“

“And did you tell her what happened to the rest of them? To the rest of your companions? Abandoned, or a soldier. Abandoned and a soldier. Or dead. Is she prepared for the cost of travelling with you? Is Rory?”

“I’m going to do better this time.”

The Dream Lord laughs. It sounds too much like him. “And when you’re alone again, I’ll still be here, Doctor.”

#whumptober2023 #no.17 #leave me alone #doctor who #fic #my lonely writing #the dream lord #the dream lord fanfiction #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor fanfiction #episode: amy's choice #amy's choice #doctor who fanficton

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aletterinthenameofsanity · 4 months

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Eleven/Amy/Rory Fic Progress (pt. 23)

Word count for the day: 125k.

First off, the next three fics are mostly just fun romps/unconnected specials, but they're very important for character development/plot set-up/conclusion. First off we'll have a rewrite of Dinosaurs On a Spaceship without the whole gross Nefertiti/Big Game Hunter subplot (Solomon wants to trade the Doctor instead), then we'll have what I've subtitled as "Rory's Choice/The Dream Lord 2.0" after that, and then an Amy-centric version of The Doctor's Wife focusing on her relationship with the TARDIS.

Then, after that? We hit this series' version of Angels Take Manhattan- but without a single weeping angel. (And no, the Doctor, Amy, and Rory don't get separated permanently. But it is definitely going to hurt in the meantime. I won't spoil how anything goes with that plotline beyond that, though.

But let me tell you: the longer I have to go without revealing the Clara plot twist, the more feral my brain gets. She is directly tied into at least two major plot points and I have been doing a lot of foreshadowing throughout this series and I really, really hope to make y'all's jaws drops when you find out what I did to her character.

Also, on a non-Clara-related note, I can tell you right now, no spoilers, that one of the two episodes that is featuring/providing the inspiration for the finale of this entire series, all the way down the line in Thirteen's era, is going to be The Bells of St. John. The other episode is absolutely spoilers-territory, but as Bells of St. John is just the first half of the finale (and absolutely does not give away what companion is joining Thirteen/Amy/Rory for the back half of Thirteen's run, just the inspiration for the concept of the finale), I don't feel like it's spoiling too much.

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literary-wanderlust · 2 years

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“You know what can survive the anti-life? You. Dreams don’t fucking die, not if you believe in them.”

— Matthew “The Sandman”

#the sandman #the dream lord #Morpheus #Matthew #Netflix

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jackmcspringheel · 2 years

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Random Doctor Who Icons 7/? ✨ Free for use, just reblog and credit please!

#Doctor who #dw edit #mel zucker #Mel’s #River song #professor river song #the dream lord #clara oswald #the doctor #twelfth Doctor #12th Doctor #Nardole #Missy #missy!master #the master #the lumiat #Danny pink #my icons #doctor queue

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bisexualwannabewriter · 2 years

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“In the Night” - The Sandman (Morpheus, Dream of the Endless x female reader) Chapter One

If you’re a fan of Greek Mythology like me, this one should make you happy :)

Summary : During the day, you’re a young pansexual woman with a confusing past, living with your bestfriend, Vicky, and her young daughter Cecelia. But when night falls, you work as a stripper, nicknamed the “Little Dream” by your faithful clientele... Somewhere else, The Dream Lord Morpheus has escaped from his century long captivity. But what does this have to do with you ? You’ll find out soon enough...

I’ll post all the chapters here. You can also find everything I write here.

(There’s just a bit of swearing in this, otherwise I’d say it’s pretty tame, besides the whole strip club setting... no need for a trigger warning I think.)

Chapter Summary : After a weird dream that leaves you completely disoriented, a peculiar but attractive man you’ve never heard of before asks for you.

"Aglaea, are you listening to me ? Aglaea !"

The strikingly beautiful woman kept repeating this name. Aglaea. The anger distorted her graceful features, and you wondered what you had done to deserve such wrath. She spat the next words, without ever breaking eye contact with you, sending chills down your spine : "What are you doing ? Have you lost your mind ? They're going to find you ! And when they do, there's no telling what horrors they'll do to you. Can you even hear me ?! AGLAEA !" Another voice, coming from your right startled you. You weren't alone. "Thalia, calm down. She can hear you just fine." The other woman, equally as breathtaking as the first one, came closer to you. She wore a reassuring smile that concealed a certain nervousness. "We're just worried about you, sister. Think about what you're doing, for a second, would you ?" She kindly took your hands in hers, inviting you to sit next to her on a stone bench, invaded by climbing ivy.

For the first time, you looked around you. The view almost knocked the breath out of you. There were no words to describe the exquisiteness of your surroundings. It seemed like all of your senses suddenly came back to life, and you felt overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. Waterfalls, strange trees you had never laid eyes on before, firefly like creatures floating all around you... Even the smell was divine.

You knew this place.

Home. It felt like home. You felt a stab in your chest, looking at the face of your sweet sister, her hands still clutching yours. You remembered now; her name was Euphrosyne. She had always been the most patient and gentle of the two. You were the younger of the trio. It was all coming back. You were one of the Charites, or Graces, depending on who you asked. "Think about your daughters.", Euphrosyne said. Four daughters. You had four daughters with Hephaestus. How could you forget about them ? Before you could think too much about it, your older sister added even more problems to your already full plate : "And what would your husband say ? Think about it. Oh, and Aphrodite ? You've always been her favorite ! You know how jealous she gets, when our focus shifts onto other deities. So if you were to leave..." She had barely finished speaking, when Thalia continued, her voice more bitter : "And that's not even everyone ! What about father ? And Himeros ? Or is he the one who got into your head ? He must have, because you talk like a mad woman, Aglaea !" Himeros. Desire personnified. Could they be to blame for the unyielding strength of your feelings for Oneiros ?

You didn't remember talking before, but when you opened your mouth, the words floated so easily out of you, with no control over them whatsoever : "Of all people... Do you think I care about my husband, Hephaestus ? I can barely stand the sight of him !" Even in your trance like state, you could feel this was a poor choice of words. Hephaestus was just the tip of the iceberg. This seemed to enrage Thalia furthermore : "Do you hear that, Euphrosyne ? Our brave baby sister fears no one ! Don't you remember what he did, when he found Aphrodite in bed with Ares ? Or do you need me to refresh your memory ?"

Euphrosyne raised a hand to appease her sister, before adding : "Listen... I know you love him, dear sister. But the Dream Lord has a dangerous reputation... If you do not fear our family, fear HIM and what he could do to you, should you displease him." You stood up, without even thinking about it, filled with a stirring frustration. Your sisters would never understand : it was all worth it. A sense of impending doom suffocated you, but it was better than any of this. Of course you'd pay. Of course they'd come after you. But for an instant, you'd be free. Free to love the one you wanted to love. Free to live the life of your dreams. A small taste of eternity. You declared, before turning your back on your sisters, never to see them again : "You talk about their power. What they can do to me. But what about MY power ? THEY should be scared. Because I no longer want to be part of this. Dancing, and singing, and organizing stupid banquets ! Is that all there is to our lifes ? Being forced into marriage ? Fuck them. I know they can hear me. FUCK YOU ! ALL OF YOU ! And you my sisters, I want this for you too. Freedom. My daughters..." you trailed off, before catching yourself again : "I hope you'll find it in your hearts to forgive me someday."

You caught a glimpse of a tear on Euphrosyne's soft face, before hearing a strange sound. Everything around you faded to black, and the noise turned into a muffled voice : "Y/n, wake up." Who was y/n ? Your name was Aglaea, was it not ? But the voice became stronger, insisting on calling you y/n. You felt weirdly heavy, all of a sudden. It was too hot. You needed some air. Water too. You opened your eyes, and found yourself in a dark room. A woman was standing above you. "Finally, you're awake !" she said. Still groggy and disoriented, you asked in a throaty whisper : "Euphrosyne ?" The woman gave you a weird look, and laughed a little, before telling you : "Damn, that nap must've been hella good girl, 'cause what the fuck did you just call me ?" You didn't answer, and she shook her head, continuing : "Come on y/n, get your ass up. We're gonna be late." She left you alone, before you realised something.

At the corner of the room, you could have sworn there had been a man too, carefully watching you, just a second ago. He seemed more like a dark ghostly creature than human, but his presence made your heart flutter a little. He was right there. Where did he go ? You sat up on the couch, fully awake now. Vicky (Victoria, that was her name - how could you not remember your bestfriend's name ?) was right, that nap knocked the shit out of you. Your dream was slipping away now. It had been a long, looong time, since you last dreamed like that. You almost forgot who you were for a minute. Who the hell was Euphrosyne ? What kind of name was that anyways ?

You stood up, and recognized your surroundings. You were in the backroom of The Erotes, a strip club owned by a woman named Amy. Everyone called her Ma' though, because of her benevolent and protective disposition. Female owned strip clubs were rare, and you felt grateful for it. Amy made sure everyone felt comfortable, safe, and in perfect control of what they wanted to do. This place was the closest thing there was to home, in your book. You didn't remember much of your childhood, and your parents just weren't in the picture. It was almost like you didn't exist, before Ma' took you under her wing. There was a sense of strong sisterhood, amongst you and the other dancers. People loved to think of strippers as dumb, superficial and vulgar. Or as victims, before God forbid a woman could do something like that, and feel powerful. But the women you spend so much time with were some of the most interesting, clever and gorgeous creatures, inside and out, you had ever encountered. Vicky was one of them. You lived with her and her two year old daughter, Cecelia, who was the apple of your eye, in an nice appartment rented by none other than Amy. Life was pretty good, all things considered. You had reasons to be happy. And you were, to some extent.

But as far as you could remember, there had always been this quiet fear inside of you. This constant anxiety, that had grown even stronger the last couple of weeks. Something was going to happen to you. You didn't know how you knew it... you just did. You tried to open up to Vicky, but she was an optimist at heart : she didn't take your alarm seriously. "Babe, nothing is gonna happen to you, okay ? You're fine. Everything's fine. And if it's not, it will be", she would simply say. And then there was this odd feeling that something was just... missing. Something, or someONE was not there when it should have been. It was strange. To crave something or someone you knew nothing about. And then the anger... Where was all of this coming from ?

You were getting ready, but you weren't going to be dancing tonight. Maxxie, the bartender, had an emergency. You suspected it had something to do with his boyfriend. Nevertheless, you were one of the only ones who could fill his shoes while he was gone, so tonight, you'd be bartending. Vicky always marveled at how easily you managed to do pretty much anything. You just had this weird gift : you would try something once, and then replicate it perfectly without much guidance afterwards. "God, it's like you're not even human ! At least look like you're struggling a bit !" she would joke.

You were almost done, when one of the girls, Donna (the customers called her Red, because of her fabulous copper lioness mane) passed her head in the doorframe : "Honey, some handsome guy is asking for you." You knew you were popular amongst the club's clientele, but unfortunately for that handsome guy, tonight wasn't the night. "Tell him I'm not dancing tonight, Donna." you answered. But Donna looked a bit embarassed, and continued : "I know, I told him so, but he's insisting. He just wanna talk to you, I think." You stood up, put your shoes on, and asked : "Has he been here before ? You know him ?" She didn't. Said she'd remember him, because he was too damn cute to forget. This sparked your interest. You raised one eyebrow, and playfully retorted "Okay. Well, tell him I'll be here in a minute, would you ? Thanks, Don." She gave you a mischevous smile, and closed the door. You stared at your reflection in the mirror one last time , pretty satisfied, stood up, and went behind the bar to start your shift.

You made sure to arrive discreetly, to observe whoever was asking for you and not be taken too much by surprise. You greeted the twins, Rom and Remus, who were the club's bouncers and part of the family as much as anyone else. Vicky was on stage with a couple of the girls, dancing to "Desire" from Meg Myers, but it was hard to shine with her around. She moved with a snake like sensuality, swaying her hips and charming anyone who laid eyes on her in a hot second. Her eyes swiftly spotted you accross the room, her beautiful features illuminated by the pink, purple and blue neon lights, and you winked at her, earning a blinding smile in the process. No one talked about it, but everyone here knew the line between friends and lovers were often blurred between you and Vicky. Sometimes, things just happened. It didn't need to be adressed or labelled. It just... was. You shifted your focus on the rest of the large room, and saw a peculiar man wearing sunglasses inside. Donna was right, he had never been here before.

Swagger oozed out of him, and he quickly noticed he had caught your attention. He was indeed very handsome, in an almost dangerous way. He smiled at you, and came to sit on a bar stool right in front of you. You returned the smile, rested your elbows on the counter, and said : "A little bird has told me you're asking for me. But I wonder... I've never seen you around before. So how do you know about me ?" The blond man chuckled softly, before copying you and resting his own elbows on the bar : "A friend recommended this place to me. Told me to ask for Little Dream. That's how they call you, right ? Little Dream ? He tells me you move so gracefully, like you're floating around, with such lascivious ease... Must be quite the show." He had a way with words, she had to give it to him. "Unfortunately, as my friend already told you, I won't be performing tonight. I can get you something to drink though, if you'd like ?" His sunglasses still on his nose, the mysterious man grinned again. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could've sworn he was staring right into your soul in this moment. "A woman of multiple talents, I see." Then, he continued, speaking more to himself than to you "Little Dream... ha, isn't that just perfect ?"

Growing a bit uneasy, you asked again : "So, what can I get you ?". He seemed to get out of his short trance, and channelled all his charms to smoothly ask you for a whisky on the rocks. Two other men ordered drinks, so you had to abandon Sunglasses for a while, but he kept observing you with keen interest. A larger groupe came right after, so Amy popped up to give you a hand. You shot Blondie an apologetic look, but he didn't seem to mind. After a while, things had calmed down, and Ma' seemed to notice something was going on with you two, so she smiled, and nodded towards him. "Who's the pretty boy ? Don't think I've ever seen him before." You looked over your shoulder, and he raised his glass in your direction. You laughed softly, before answering : "Don't know. He came especially for me, apparently." Your boss smirked at you before deciding : "Go on. I got it. If things get too crazy, I'll call you." You asked if she was sure, which she was, before heading back towards the gorgeous stranger.

You didn't have time to say anything, before he complimented you : "It's true what my friend said, you do move like you're on a cloud. It's quite enchanting to see. Dancing or not." You softly smiled at him : "You're quite intriguing, aren't you ?" He laughed a little, before answering in a teasing way : "Am I now ?" You rested towards the counter again : "So what's your name, stranger ? And most importantly : what do you want from me ?" He patted the seat next to him, inviting you to join him on the other side of the bar. Amy was busy with a customer, and the group had drifted accross the room, cheering for Donna and Vicky, who were now dancing to "Okay" from Chase Atlantic. You joined him, curiosity getting the best of you. Satisfied, he responded to your questions with other questions : "Tell me, Little Dream... How have YOUR dreams been lately ? Do you sleep okay ?" Confused, you hesitated : "Huh, excuse me ?" He smiled to himself, like this was a private joke only he could understand. "Our old friend is out again, you know ? It's clear to me you can feel it, too." You subtly backed away a little, taken aback by his words. He didn't make any sense. Did he ? This wasn't the first time you had to deal with a weird customer, but there was something about this one... He was getting under your skin, and you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about", you said nonetheless. He shook his head : "Ah yes, that old trick the Gods have cursed you with. Still working, I see. No memory again. I wonder what it'll take, for you to break that malediction. Anyways, he must have visited you at least once, since he's free now. Hasn't he ?" You stared at him in complete disbelief, not understanding why his words didn't sound completely insane to you. There was something in there that resonated with you, and he saw it in your eyes. "Aaaah, I knew he couldn't resist seeing his girl again. It's been so long, after all." Was he talking about the shadowy figure you swore you had seen when you woke up from this strange dream ? He couldn't be. How could he know ? You didn't even know what you had seen for certain. He continued : "I know if you were mine, I couldn't stay away for too long... But our mutual friend has been a very good boy, those past centuries. The last one wasn't his choice, alas, but still..."

Something inside you woke up, and you felt the hair on your arms stand up. Was he the one who would precipitate her downfall ? Was this what you had always been worrying about ? "WHO are you ? What do you want ? And what on earth are you talking about ?" The man chuckled again, this time with something dark in the sound of his voice. He stood up, and before you could turn around, you felt him whispering in your ear "You may not fully understand now, but you will. I'll help you understand when you're ready. I'll be there when you need me, that's a promise. Until then, see you around, Aglaea."

Before you could react, he was already gone. Aglaea. The name sounded awfully familiar. Wasn't it how those women called you in your dream ?

Chapter Two in the making...

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mx-melancholic · 2 years

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No actually because how was The Dream Lord not The Master

#He could've been #Very woman in the shop vibes #no? just me?#srs like #doctor who #the master #the dream lord #Dhawan! Master and he have the same vibes don't @ me #Could be a new headcanon #fr tho like #Also comfort episode lol #season 5 #amy's choice

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oneiromanccr · 2 years

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Dream the world anew

#the sandman #sandman #dream #the dream lord

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thestrangestinthisstrangeland · 2 years

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As We Lay Dreaming- chapter 11

warnings -talk of and hurt caused by losing a child

summary -Love is so complicated and comes in many forms. The past holds some heavy truths and we may not always be ready for what we learn, but in the end, when it's real, it does tend to find a way of working out eventually.

AN-For anyone who has not read the books, please know all of the gorgeous tension between Dream and Calliope simply does not exist in the books.

Because I wrote this part of the story months before the show came out, the Calliope I'm writing is from the books, in case you're a little confused as to why their dynamics or lack of are so different from the show.

But I think most of us can agree that the show version of Dream and Calliope deserve their own ff because, WOW!

AO3

masterlist

When I open my eyes, we say nothing.

I sit up and let him pull me from the bed, leaving my sleeping body behind to lift into the waiting arms of Morpheus, floating like a dream within a dream.

The light stroke of his fingers along my bare arm and the firm pressure of his hand against the small of my back are the perfect expressions of his love and his mood.

My eyes closed, head on his shoulder and hand holding the curve of his neck, I sink into the dark, swept away by the undercurrent of being ushered from the room.

For the first time, I am entirely free of the only person who could have kept us apart. No longer burdened with the waiting time, no longer worried that I might be pulled from my sleep too soon, I am here in the home I chose, with the one I love, all without fear.

In the waking world, I lay spent and happy in a deep sleep, unaware that Dream is leaving but blissfully ignorant in my big bed because I know that everything will be alright; I can feel it with every flutter of my eyelids and twitch of my limbs as I sink into r.e.m. I'll never truly be alone unless I want to be.

Holding his one hand with my two now, I let him take me, not to the bedroom door or even the window. Instead, we go to a door angled in the farthest corner.

Was it always there?

The wood molding is a deeply stained mahogany that shines in the lamplight of my room. I can make out the detailed carvings of faces. Breathing, smiling, frowning —sleeping. They are no one and everyone. They are the dreaming people of the world who rest in his realm, and this is one of many gateways into it.

The realization makes me step back; I have not stood at his gates, or door for that matter, in so long.

It makes me feel very small and very human.

I watch Dream raise his hand, as elegant as a pianist, but how he holds his power, contorted in his long fingers that reach and command, is frightening —he hesitates.

The way stays shut.

"Would you prefer just to sleep?" He asks without looking down at me. I think it's occurred to him that I might not want to come.

Do I? We've been together for a day and a night; that's hardly enough.

I step around him, holding his one hand tight, and find the concern carved deep in the brow of the Endless. I will smooth that line with a kiss later, but for now, I reach over and raise his arm again until he understands. I don't want senseless dreams I'll forget before I open my eyes. I want him.

Dream hides his relief, or so he thinks.

He keeps his head down but looks to the door again, brings his hand up, and with all the effort it takes a man to start a car, he opens the door. Together we step through into a light brighter than any I've ever seen or felt.

The instant freefall feels almost like flying.

It happens so quickly I don't have time to be scared. I blink, draw a breath, and then I'm here, standing in the back garden.

Surprised, I hold my arms out to find the slip is gone, and my gown is on. Tonight the black hangs from two silver drops of moonlight that rest on my shoulders, the fine fabric dips low down my back and clings to every curve. In the far windows, I catch a glimpse of my reflection and see that my hair has been braided down in six thick rows with bands of silver light woven through each plait. I am radiant.

More gifts from the Shaper. Is this how he sees me or how I see myself? Maybe it's a little of both; either way, he is so good to me…

I turn to thank him, but some of the dream things have already come out to greet us. They are little wisps that look something like cats? But they turn in on themselves in ways that make me shudder. Still, they are funny and harmless. One of the smallest tries to get me to chase it, which I do in vain until finally, the odd little thing leaps up onto my shoulder. The sound of its purring hits somewhere between a growl and the low rudder of an old boat.

I have to admit; I love that I've become so welcome here in this kingdom. It's strange to think there was a time I didn't know about it.

When I look up at Dream, I see that he feels the same.

I swear I can see tears sparkling along his black lash line-- and that is most definitely a smile.

"You're back!"

Talk about welcome. We turn to find Dream's closest friend and servant within the realm coming out to greet us.

"Lucienne!" We say in unison, cringing slighting at our — synchronized enthusiasm.

Lucienne looks over the ever-present glasses balanced perfectly on the tip of her nose. She smirks at our mutual display of admiration and seems as amused by the sweetness as we are embarrassed.

"Yes." he says, sounding more reserved." I am-- we-- are."

"Things went well?" She asks, eyes darting back and forth between our faces as she waits for an answer. "You both look refreshed." She smiles.

Looking down at the little cloud of purring black on my shoulder, Dream gives it a pet before replying, "Nothing went wrong." He answers, looking at me. I know what he means by that. Needing to do what I did to my husband was not exactly "right," but it had to be done. The things that came after were better than expected, but all of it was born of a very dark situation.

Dream quickly turns to her. "Is that satisfactory?"

Humored by his lack of it, she bows her head, holding onto her half smile. "Of course, my lord."

Dream is content enough to continue on and raises his chin, "Tell me of my kingdom. Is everything well?" He asks, shedding the warmth that has wrapped us both so tight these past few days and heads inside.

"All dreams and every nightmare accounted for." She reports back, following him through the large doors and me with the little fluff on my shoulder at the rear. "You were gone and back before anyone but myself knew of your departure."

"I was worried after two occurrences so close together." He confesses.

"I know, my lord, but you were careful, as was I."

Dream pauses his steps and looks over his bare shoulder. The long coat is gone now that we're in the palace, replaced by draped fabric, same as mine, only his hangs like a waterfall of black to the floor while still rising like smoke to casually cover the parts it must. I am somehow even more aware of his body beneath, seeing his arm as he gestures and leg as he walks, than I am when he is naked and on top of me– or beneath.

"I know, Lucienne. Thank you. Your diligence is not in vain."

"Of course, Lord." She answers, and I can hear that she appreciates him acknowledging this in her tone.

As I move towards the hall, thinking we will go to his rooms, Dream instead walks with Lucienne towards the wall of windows, the stained glass casting colorful light over his white skin. I almost call for him, but I see how he stops again, drawing a curious breath before he leans in, "How is she?" I hear him ask very quietly, and for a moment, Dream is not here; in fact, he's a million miles away, perhaps in another world entirely.

"My Lord?"

"My last reason for leaving?" He glances back at me and I know I shouldn't be eavesdropping, but it's harder not to than it is to ignore them.

"Ah. Yes. She is well enough. Free, and I suspect that is all that matters." Lucienne replies at his side. They aren't shutting me out, but I'm not invited in.

Thinking on this, Dream turns, his face gone longer than usual.

After such a perfect night together, he starts for the lonely throne and begins the climb leaving me behind.

How odd. When I started to fall asleep, he'd held me so tight. Not to mention before that, when he'd seemed so happy to please me and me alone, that he'd refused my attempt to return the favor – the sight of his black hair against my thighs still sends a shiver through my belly– but that spark has flickered out. Not the love, just the lightheartedness. Whatever this is, it's clearly much bigger than sex.

"Is everything alright?" I ask the librarian.

"I think so." She leans closer. "You're safe. The children are well, yes?"

"Asleep and having sweet dreams," I smile.

"And the man. Reginald?"

The name is poison. I wish she could have avoided saying it, but I am in the dreaming. He can not hurt me here. He is in his own nightmare for now. "He won't be bothering us anymore."

She looks at me like she's reading the information from my thoughts. "I see. Well. It's not my place to say what Lord Morpheus feels or thinks…

"But?"

She finds me from the corner of her eye, "You know him now too, Glory, just as I do."

"Not like you, Lucienne. Not at all."

"No, but, you know him in ways I never will, nor do I desire to. The Lord Shaper may look one way while experiencing something very different on the inside. You love him as a woman does; you see into his head differently than I do. Go to him." She suggested. "Where he shuts me out, he might let you in. When he closes your door, mine will open. That is how it's done with one like him"

Her face is calm, but I see the wisdom in her eyes and follow her sight-line to watch Dream sink down onto the throne where he broods without missing a beat. "It was about me only a day ago. Funny how quickly it's become about him again. It's about him a lot, isn't it?"

"Yes." She says, looking at me.

With a deep sigh, I rub the fuzzy head of the creature still perched on my shoulder. "Go on," I whisper to my nightmare. "We'll play more later."

It gives a little whimper but vanishes in a poof.

As I gather my skirts, Lucienne turns and leaves in the opposite direction, both of us going down our separate paths.

I like the feel of my heavy gown as it drags up the cold steps behind me. The frayed and tattered edges are elegant in this place as I come to stop at his knees and curl my fingers under his chin, lifting his head so that I may look into the eyes that are not eyes at all but a galaxy of gloom and introspection. With a sigh, I have to chuckle. He is so pretty when he's like this.

"What a turn."I tease softly. "You know that you can tell me, right? I might not always understand, but I'll try."

I see some of that edge drain away, and he sits up enough to take me by the hips, and I stumble forward, letting him draw me onto his lap, which is a comfort; at least I know he wants me close. "You should not say things to stop me from feeling like I do." He complains.

"That's exactly what I should do if there's a chance I can make you feel better."

"I will be fine. Please. Are you hungry?"

"No, Dream, I'm not hungry."

"Perhaps Fiddlers Green? You should not have to sit here with me attempting to lighten my mood."

I laugh and brush his wild hair aside. "But I'm so good at it," I whisper in his ear, and then— I smell her.

The scent of olive groves and what once was.

She is ancient and forgotten but not by him. "Oh…" I draw back, and we lock eyes. I feel my heart stop, tiny cracks form, it threatens to break. "I see." I don't, not really. He wouldn't… I thought I was enough? Am I not enough? "Who is she?" I ask terrified to know.

He turns his face. He can not look at me? "Someone I knew. A very long time ago."

I know that tone. It is regret and heartbreak. It is loss and longing. "You loved her."

"I did"

I stare at his magnificent profile and wonder when it was. I try to understand what their time was like without him telling me and why he might feel the need to make time for her again because I know now that he's seen her.

"Dream, just then with Lucienne, you said you had another reason to leave the dreaming. Was she the reason?"

"Yes"

I think back. Sometimes it's hard to recall dreams while living inside another, but I'm used to it. When I think back, I can see him pulling on the gloves and the horrible mask so incredible I couldn't look away. "That's where you were going. When I asked you to help me."

"It was."

But I'm the one you love now! I cry inside my head almost certain thoughts can be heard here, but I hardly care.

Holding in the ugly emotions that stir, I look for any reason not to doubt him. He does not make me wait long. I've seen the look before. It's the shadow that falls over his face when he talks about the darkness that lives in the hearts of humanity. The vile things we are capable of. I lose that sense of dread and feel a new fear, not for us. For her.

Now I see, and I exhale the breath that nearly suffocated me.

"Is she safe?"

"She is."

"Will you tell me what happened?"

He leans on the armrest, balancing his chin on his fist with a sigh.

I wait.

"Her name is Calliope." Dream tells me.

Wait. I know this name— I think?

"She was being held in the waking world by the same cruelty that kept me bound."

My heart stops. He never talks about it so I never ask. Thinking of him locked away breaks my heart. "Time passes the same for my kind as it does for yours," He told me once. I never pressed him further.

Calliope. I know this name…

"She called out to me in a moment of pure desperation. I was her last resort. That I can say for certain."

My curiosity is piqued.

"I could not leave her there to suffer." He says more to himself than to me, "She says I've changed. Maybe I have. Either way, I know what it is to feel the torment of their captivity, and even then, I was not abused like she was… no woman should be left in the hands of that dark fate." I look over my shoulder at his hand on the other black armrest and how his white hand grips so hard I think he might crush the thing to dust.

As awful as it is because I know what it is he speaks of, I look at him and find a reason to smile.

He saved her. The cracks of my heart mend and I slide my hands over his chest and shoulders closing in to hold him, loving him, admiring him, thankful that time has apparently made him a kinder immortal.

With my forehead to his temple, I listen to him speak in a low voice, "I could not turn my back on her Glory. It would be wrong to treat the mother of my child with such little regard."

A wave of hot surprise washes over me.

I feel like I am touching cold marble. Stone I have never kissed or held never whispered to, never opened to, never had inside of me. I feel like I do not know him at all.

Before I can stop myself, I'm up and standing at the top of the stairs, only second guessing for a second before I start the descent.

Damn him and his dramatics, I can't even see the palace floor from up here, but as a mercy, Dream must wave his hand, and the winding stair becomes no more than three.

On flat ground, I go to the first window and look out towards my swath of land, which is the only part of the dreaming that seems to stay the same. I find comfort in the black trees with leaves that shimmer emerald in the sun and the creatures that live there. Dream made them, but they are mine. I raise my head, thinking that if I were queen, they would know it...

I don't know why I'm standing here thinking of this now; I guess I need something to keep me from falling.

"Are you angry?" He asks from across the room, still sitting on his throne. He sounds like my reaction might have made him upset.

"No." It's not a lie. I'm really not. So what is this feeling? I won't say until I'm sure.

So the silence between us lasts for far too long.

Like I so often can, I feel my time with him fading.

"You'll wake soon." Dream tells me from his throne that now sits on the floor. His voice is flat, cold, distant.

"I know."

"And you would leave this way?" He asks. I think maybe he's appalled by it.

"I would." I tell him honestly, "That scent?" There it is again. Ancient and bright like sun-dappled fields of wheat and beyond it, the salty spray of ocean water. I find Dream over my shoulder. "It wasn't her at all!"

I feel something that's never happened to me for as long as I've been coming here. Closing my eyes, I focus on the feeling and realize it's more than that. It's a song, too distant at first, but then, when I look at Dream again, I can start to make it out enough to know where it's coming from.

The sound is so haunting I'm tempted to cover my ears. I've never heard singing so clear and strong and yet so faint. I still can't quite make it out. It's more like hearing someone else's memory– his memories-- a father's memories– Dream's.

"It was him. Your child." I do not gasp but the shared memories are so strong now I cover my mouth, feeling his grief. "Your son!"

I have never seen him look this way before.

It is the gutted face of sorrow and dare I even think it in his realm? Despair.

He does look at me then. He looks at me like I have betrayed him.

I am at his side in a heartbeat, lowering without hesitating, ready to beg for forgiveness just to never see that pitiful look again.

With tears in my own eyes and his face so cold under my palm, I try, "Please. Morpheus, please. I'm sorry. I didn't know… I didn't mean to… I never meant to bring those memories back. I didn't mean to hurt you." I try, but my voice is just a whisper. I chase the stars with my gaze, but he will not look at me.

"You will wake soon," He says again, staring off towards his grand hall, ignoring me, his woman on her knees and sorry, so sorry. Not for making him remember but for everything he's been through, whatever that may be. He's blocked out the details of it; all I'm privy to is the pain, and that alone is too much. Even worse is how he hides it and keeps it tucked away for reasons known only to him.

It's nearly too much for me. I can only nod, thinking this might be it, the moment Morpheus decides he can't have me here because I've trudged up things he can't bear to feel, but he takes my hand and kisses the heel of my palm, letting my fingertips graze his cheek as he looks down at me, and I am yet again reminded that I play with fire.

The stars burn, and I let them scorch me as the dreaming slips away.

I do not even get to say I love you.

The following morning brought drizzly rain and a wall of gray sky that kept the sun veiled behind it, making the pale yellow star look like an old hardboiled egg.

Far from settled in the new house, Glory lay in bed, staring out the window. It was time to get up, but she felt pinned under the weight of a heavy heart for reasons she just could not place. Sorry to say, this was nothing new. Life with her husband had readied her for mornings like this, so she shut her eyes, ignored the sky, and dragged herself from the comfort of the sheets and pillows before the kids could start their long list of demands.

Determined to conquer some early hour chores and piece the night together, she kept going over the best parts of her time with Dream, only to get stuck on the bad. It seemed every few minutes she would stop, half-folded laundry in hand, wondering what happened after walking into the palace.

It made no sense. She'd fallen asleep happy and naked in the arms of her love but woke with a deep feeling of having lost something or someone, both maybe. It tugged and tugged and tugged at her, yanking at her heart until she stumbled along the upstairs hallway, dropping the laundry basket as she clutched her heart and covered her face because all she could do was cry.

Glory raised her head, listening; thankfully, the kids were still asleep.

Why won't you let me see? She wondered, leaning against the wall.

But was it even him? Maybe she'd asked him to block her memories?

Some things from the Dreaming did naturally fade, forgotten like other thoughts or minor details of an ordinary day. But this was very different.

Later, over breakfast, Glory opened the box the poor Dream King had avoided. She put those dishes away, occasionally glancing across the kitchen to watch her children eat their toast and drink their milk, curious about the magically stocked fridge. She sure as hell hadn't been to the store, but she recognized the brands, and some of the bags even said Brown's Grocery on them.

She needed to speak with Josiah tomorrow when she went back to work, she noted with a raised brow and sure, maybe a little smile too, but her thoughts were soon back on the pressing thoughts at hand.

One of the boys shouted for her to look at something silly he could do, and she gave a half-hearted "mmhm" As she wandered out of the kitchen, leaving the box and the noise.

There was a name she knew but couldn't remember. It had been there, right on the tip of her tongue since she opened her eyes. Now it was louder than all the other chaos combined; it was stuck in her head like the end of a tune you can't quite remember.

It took her all day, but finally, after settling in and nearly forgetting about the feeling, she found her way into the last room of the upstairs hallway on the left.

It was actually something Loretta told her that brought her up here. "If you got a song stuck in your head, you gotta listen to it to get it out. If you can't, listen to something better!"

The room was a small study with a desk and a chair, a large window, and a lot of books. It would be her favorite room in the winter, she thought with a wistful smile as she turned a circle to look around.

One day she might ask Dream who lived here before she did, but some part of her didn't want to know.

Finger gliding along the spines of the books on the shelves, she realized she'd been searching for something when she found it and pulled the book down.

Greek Mythology.

The glossary was full of words and names that meant nothing to her. She skimmed over them until, finally, one stuck out.

Calliope.

That was it.

She knew this name…

Youngest of the nine muses, Calliope was the daughter of Zeus.

A warm breeze blew in the room.

Glory felt an ancient sun on her skin and heard the chatter of women. She closed her eyes and harps played. The music of lyres and the aulos floated through the air, filling the room with songs from times that were nothing now but stories or textbooks.

Glory pressed her fingers to her lips. She could taste herbs, fresh bread... she could hear the names of children being called—one in particular.

Calliope was once a muse to Homer and the mother of Orpheus.

Glory opened her eyes, balancing the book in her hand.

Orpheus.

Funny how pages like this can leave out the details. Things can sound so black and white when you read them. Like that last line, you'd never know he had a father. You'd never know his father still drowns in sorrow but keeps it hidden from everyone who loves him.

She looked back down.

It never said 'wife of Morpheus', but then books like this don't know of such things. Probably for the better, although she did find it sad that truth could become nothing more than myth and legend, written down and sold off as stories to entertain with all of the heart bled dry.

Some part of her felt very cold and very lonely, like she'd never been seen or heard and never would be.

There was a change in the air at that moment. The house shifted around her as if it responded to her silent fear.

Glory realized her memories of last night had come back.

Why had she blocked them in the first place? Perhaps because she feared the loss of her own children as any mother might, and to see him like that was too painful. But as she stood in the empty room --that sick feeling creeping into her belly--she realized it was that Dream's pain was not so distant. The darkness that reached out and touched her felt all too familiar.

Her children were alive and well, laughing and playing in the house he'd lovingly given them, and yet, the song of Orpheus had consumed last night like the cold black waters of the open ocean stealing her children from her arms, and she could not imagine why.

She'd fallen to her knees before waking, apologizing for making him remember. But in those last moments, before she'd opened her eyes, she said something. She could hear her own voice now.

She'd looked up at the Dream King and simply said "No," not to him, to the agony that matched his, and he had understood.

Bless him.

Glory snapped the book shut.

Memories can be so cruel-- and these were not her own. Some other person, some poor parent she truly pitied and would never forget, had been asleep in the dreaming and somehow shared a loss with Glory too. That was the only explanation.

Thankfully. Mercifully, she could move on. Maybe, when Glory saw him tonight, she would ask Dream to let them rest without those awful memories to haunt their sleep.

She glanced down one more time and truly hoped he'd done the same for his ex-wife.

The book landed on the desk with a thud.

Any hint of Calliope and Orpheus and the pain of losing him was gone like she'd switched off the tv, and Glory went downstairs to her children.

#the sandman comics #sandmancentral #dream of the endless/ original female character #dream of the endless fanfiction #dream of the endless/female character of color #dream of the endless romance #dream of the endless in love #king of dreams #the dream lord #the dreaming #prince of stories #morpheus of the endless #he has a kind heart #but it’s been broken so many times #so has hers

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