Chapter Text
It had been years, over a century since Dream Lord had been imprisoned by an amateur magic user going by the name Magus. So long since he was stripped of his clothes and symbols of power and put into a glass prison.
He, the monarch in his realm, was humiliated by mere humans.
Magus, whose real name was Roderick Burgess, asked for gifts he couldn’t give. Morpheus’ possessions and his presence alone already gave this human what others didn’t have. And still, he asked, begged, for more.
His son, however, was different. A young boy suffering under his father’s hand. Dream was almost ready to make a deal with Alex Burgess. To make an ally who might set him free. Until the foolish boy killed his raven, his dear Jessamy, right in front of him. Alex shot her, smearing her insides over the glass. At that moment Morpheus made up his mind to never trust him. To never forgive him. Alex tried to reconnect with him, but Dream’s rage and hatred were burning hot, so he kept silent, staring into nothingness. One day he will admit this decision, his pride, kept him in that basement for another long decades. But not then or any time soon. From that moment he started planning his revenge, the one and only thing that kept him entertained.
And any entertainment or distraction was more than welcomed.
The Endless perceive time differently than humans do. Centuries can fly by in a blink of an eye. But here? Bound by magic? With no outside stimulus? Dream was aware of every second, every hour, every day that ticked away. And it was agonising.
The basement was dark and moody. Its ceiling was painted with an imitation of a night sky. Oh, how he missed the real stars or the endless space above his throne room filled with thousands of stars and galaxies from all across universes… There were only a handful of nights in the year when the Moon shined through the small windows, flooding the basement with its silver light. Those became Dream’s favourite. It was a bit of a taste of the outside world. The only one he had.
He was never truly alone. He always had an ever-present company — the guards. They were coming and going as the years passed, one more boring than the other. They mostly ignored him, spending their duty playing cards, reading or talking about their lives. Not that Dream heard much of those stories. The glass was thick and made almost every sound muffled and distorted. During the nights, Dream could hear the people above him, having fun at Burgess’ parties. The laughter and cheers twisted into horrible sounds. He was glad when they stopped after the old man died. He preferred the silence anyway. Not that it was any better…
The temperature means nothing to the Endless but after years, the constant coldness of the glass felt uncomfortable against Morpheus’ bare skin. This became more prominent during the winter months. The chill started to creep in, spreading beyond just a few points of contact. During those months he just sat, unmoving, not daring to make more of his body touch the cold material by laying down or leaning back against the glass.
Dream has never been bothered by nudity. Especially not his own but being stripped like this? Exposed so everyone could see? Could look at Lord of Dreams and Nightmares? They had no right to do so. Dream had noticed how Alex kept looking at him. Studying his body with interest. With lust in his eyes. This all made Dream suddenly too aware of his own body and how it slowly withered away over the years. Endless don’t need substances to survive but being deprived of them for a long period of time has its effect on them. And Morpheus experienced this first-hand.
The image that they had touched him while putting him into the sphere was repulsive to him. He never was keen to be touched or touch others himself and still in those long years he more than once yearned to be touched. To be held by kin. Dream remembered a warm hug he shared with his sister some centuries ago and almost started crying. He missed his siblings, even Desire and their comments and plots. He missed their family dinners and the chaos that mostly followed. He mourned the missed meeting with Hob Gadling and more than once went over the events of the last one. He was so alone…
Cold
Naked
Alone
Slowly on his way towards madness. Many times, long into his imprisonment did his mind remind him of Delirium. He feared this might be his breaking point…
And then, one day, an opportunity appeared almost out of nowhere.
Morpheus had not expected to find his ally in Alex’s husband, Paul. What let him do it, to break the seal after so long he won’t know. Maybe Paul hoped it will ease Dream Lord’s anger. Well, in that case, he was wrong.
Dream didn’t even need to look at the ground or to see Paul’s nod, he felt it the moment the biding circle was broken. The sudden but small rush of energy, of his powers reaching him. It was like a newly formed stream, finding its way through the grass and dirt. Small but steady, branching whenever it hit an obstacle but never stopping in its progress. That was all Morpheus needed, he could wait a bit longer if it meant freedom. It was so close he could taste it.
Then, the next night after he gathered enough strength Dream decided to act.
Reaching into the guardsman’s already drowsily mind was easy. So easy and familiar. The fool was even daydreaming about the beach! The moment he felt the sand between his fingers Morpheus felt alive.
The next step of his plan and one might say the ultimate one, was reaching Alex Burgess. They had some unfinished business that Dream was way more than ready and eager to act upon.
However, it left him more exhausted than he had expected. He poured every last drop of his already limited power to take his revenge. As Icarus, he as well got too close to the Sun. Blinded by his anger he did not think and started falling…
When he tried to clutch a passing dream to get him to the Dreaming — a single mother dreaming of riding a unicorn in the magical forest — instead of riding with her on its back, the unicorn got spooked and kicked Dream into his chest. The forest floor opened up underneath him and he got swallowed by a Kraken from a dream of an eighty-years old sailor.
Navigating the dreams was once so easy but now they were fighting him. Not recognising their monarch after over a century of absence. It scared him more than anything. What had become of them? What had become of the Dreaming?
He tried again to find the shortest path to his realm but got swept away yet again. Surrounded by dreamers but not able to reach them he was floating in the space between. Getting weaker by a minute…
And then, suddenly, a light appeared. Like a beacon in the darkness of the night, welcoming and inviting. Whispering of safety and home.
Dream smiled weakly and let himself be carried towards it…