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“...from dolour long in clinging night
beyond all hope set free to light.”
J.R.R. Tolkien. Beren and Lúthien
Realm
Dream’s realm is an extension of himself, both are one being, one entity. He is the heart of his realm and his realm is his untethered consciousness.
During the eons in which Death lost her smile and turned away from everyone (from him), it always rained in The Dreaming.
Nightmare
Once every hundred years, Death incarnates into a mortal to experience what mortals feel. But there are certain things that she has never done.
She has never slept.
If she entered her Brother's realm as a mortal, unable to control her subconscious, totally naked in essence, there would no longer be any secrets between them. He would know everything about her. Perhaps he would lose all respect for her.
That’s her worst nightmare.
Raven
It was Death's idea, when Dream took the first soul of a dreamer who died in their sleep and offered them to stay to be his helper.
The dreamer is a fairy. Lucien when he feels masculine and Lucienne when she feels feminine. When he dies, it’s Lucien, and he has been killed in his sleep by Queen Titania's guards. He remains Lucien for a few more years. He is an excellent company, and Dream believes that he appreciates him more for not having been created by him than if he had made him with his own hands. His Sister has given him a perfect companion.
She can't be with him, but she still doesn't want him to be alone.
King
Lucifer is called King of Lies. And yet she always tells the truth.
The chance of meeting was one in a billion. Lucifer never leaves her realm. Death can't go to any afterlife. And yet Despair's funeral shook the entire Cosmos. Everybody went. Most to pay their respects or just out of sheer morbidity.
Lucifer was there, with her demoness. Death was there too, with her pain and self-loathing.
She was different back then. Cold. With too much hate in her heart. For all the world except for one being.
Lucifer smiles in front of her. "The Endless are the strangest slaves in Cosmos."
Death raises an eyebrow. "Slaves?"
"Naturally. All of you make me feel an indescribable revulsion," said Lucifer, clasping her hands together. "Providence really has not had any mercy on you. Not only are you slaves, but you don't even know you're slaves. Why are you having a funeral for your Sister? A slave isn't really alive and therefore cannot die."
"We’re not slaves."
Lucifer smiles and there is a cosmic horror behind her smile. "Do you have your own will?"
"I do." She had the ability to choose. She had it. Things she wanted to do, someone she wanted to be with.
Her eyes search for Dream in the crowd, without realizing it.
Lucifer has noticed. And smiles without joy.
"But is it a free will?"
Death watches as Dream stands still in place, not looking at anything or anyone. Dream was close to Despair and Desire, once. He watched them grow. He loved them. And now Despair was dead. And she wants to go to him and take him in her arms and comfort him and loves him and hates him and loves him and hates him and loves him.
"No."
Hands
She is there when he opens his eyes for the first time in his existence. Smiling. Looking at him as if he were a wonder. As if he were beautiful.
And Dream's first thought is she is so beautiful.
Their parents are there too, but they don't stay long. Father doesn't look at him like his older Sister. He doesn't think he's a wonder. He thinks he’s unstable and illogical, and Dream wonders what that prickling feeling in his chest is. Mother does think he is a wonder, but she won't stay for long either, because her interest in him is short-lived.
She stays, however. She smiles at him and reaches for his hand. And Dream has just been born, but he already knows that there will never be anything more beautiful than her smile. So he takes Death's hand and together they go off to explore this young realm called Universe.
Stars
His eyes weren't stars at first. To be honest, Dream doesn't remember what they were like before. But Delirium questions him directly when they're looking for Destruction. 'Why don't you have normal eyes?', and he remembers why he changed his eyes.
Language did not exist before Delirium was born. Back then, in the beginning, they communicated with the expressions on their faces. With the touch of their hands. With their eyes. She could see everything in his eyes, as if looking through a window.
But then things changed. She changed, from loving and warm to cold and distant. And his eyes changed with her.
No one else would ever know what he felt again.
Dream dodges his youngest Sister's question.
Dream
She was, in the part of her essence that was her and only her, a dreamer.
So of course she would want him and only him.
Dark
They're lying on Death's couch together, her arms around him in a big hug, when Dream first feels it. The darkness leaving his eyes. He didn't do it on purpose, it was more of a reflex, but it's there, in his form.
"What color are my eyes?" Dream asks Death, inches from her eyes.
She gently puts her hand on his cheek, an extremely gentle caress. "I think there’s no name for this color."
"And what were they like when I was born?"
Death snuggles closer, nuzzling her form's nose against his neck. "Beautiful."
Cloak
They are spending her day off together.
Death always makes a list of all the things she wants to do in her twenty-four hours as a mortal. Usually there's never enough time, but she does it anyway. The days before the appointed date she is already making the preparations. The place she wants to go, the food she wants to eat, the sports, and with some luck to interact with some people. Dream just watches, curious and fascinated, and maybe even a little scared.
Then at midnight everything is ready and she does it. She materializes a physical body and introduces herself inside it. She has just been born, and for the next twenty-four hours, she will live, and nothing in the Cosmos will die.
"Damn! It's cold," says Death, rubbing her arms. "I forgot it's winter. Ugh, I don’t have warm clothes."
Dream takes off his cloak and covers her with it.
Death just looks at him with surprise on her face.
"What does it mean when the blood rises to your cheeks, My Sister?" asked Dream.
"Nothing," Death said, and unfortunately felt more blood rise to her cheeks. "Human bodies do strange things for no reason."
"Are you still cold?"
"No, thanks." In fact, quite the opposite. She was hot. "Anyway, let's get out of here. I want to build a snowman. The cloak is great, it's very warm."
"If you like my cloak, you can keep it."
"Oh I'm definitely keeping it. You can make yourself a new one, Fairy Godmother."
Desire
"Leave me alone."
Desire looks up from where they were doing their nails, and their golden eyes—cruel, cruel eyes like mother’s—fix on her. It was a casual meeting. Desire and Despair are usually present at a lot of parties, and someone just died of food poisoning in the other room.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," said Death with a frown. "Leave me alone."
"I'm not doing anything to you."
"You know perfectly well what you're doing, don't play innocent."
"Sister," said Desire as if they’re talking to a particularly dumb kid, and Death wants to wipe that condescending tone out of their voice. "You're just like Dream. Always blaming me for your problems."
Just hearing his name makes her atoms change in that inconvenient way.
"Your desires are yours and yours alone," says Desire. "I don't have to do anything. Just sit here watch you torture yourself."
Battle
A lesser god has challenged him, wanting to steal his realm from him. He then tried to destroy it, when it became clear that he could never have won a battle against Dream. So he really hadn't had a choice, Dream thought, when he killed him.
Death appears in his realm at that moment. Looks at the lesser god and then at him. And there is disappointment in her eyes. And Dream doesn't want to look at her.
Death holds the god's hand and takes him away.
Dream builds his helmet out of his skull, as a warning that hopefully will prevent anyone else from having a similar idea again.
Family
It is Orpheus's wedding and everyone is happy. At first.
Calliope asks him to dance with her, again. No matter how many times Dream explains to her that he can't dance, that it's something his nature doesn't allow him to do, she keeps asking whenever she gets a chance. It's no surprise when he finds disappointment in her eyes, and Dream knows it's only a matter of time before it happens again.
Then, in front of everyone, Thanatos approaches Death.
"Lady Teleute, your beauty takes my breath away. Would you dance with me?"
And Death laughs, with that singsong laugh that kills any darkness and floods the place with sunlight, accepting Thanatos's hand and offer to dance with him. And Dream stares at them. Her melodious movements. Her smile.
Dream desires that were him. Dream despairs because that's not him.
And suddenly the twins are behind him.
"Steal her," says Desire, whispering in his ear, meowing like a cat. "Follow Hades's example and steal Persephone. Walk over there, take her in your arms and steal her away. Take her to your realm and lock the door so no one can bother you again. Kiss her. Touch her. Make her your wife. She wants it."
"She would hate you, in the end," Despair says on the other side. "They all hate you in the end. She would too. We both know you would prefer to die than have her hate you."
"Leave me alone," Dream growls, barely containing his fury. "Go away. Now!"
And his siblings leave.
At the end of that day Dream no longer has a family.
Despair
"Leave me alone, Younger Sister," Dream says to the shadow behind his mirror.
The mirror always appeared in his private room depending on his mood. Dream looks into the mirror, only to find his younger Sister staring back at him. "It's you who calls me, Dream." Her eyes are blue like crystal clear water, and Dream notices that there are stars in the back of her irises.
Just like his own eyes.
"Do you want to torture me like Desire?"
"Not really, no," Despair says with a shrug. "I'm just doing my job. Again, it's you who's calling me."
"I'd rather be alone."
"You're never alone, Brother," Despair says with a tilt of her head. "When you're in pain, you're never alone. You probably spend more time with me than anyone else."
Drinks
Dream always looks at her like if he wanted to
drink her in
Blood
Death loves her days off once a century. She loves the feeling of being made of flesh and being totally tangible and having hot blood in her veins.
"Someday I'll convince you to try it too," Death says and has to stifle a moan, because the blood in her body is burning and Dream has been on top of her for hours. He could go on like this forever, but her temporary human body is about to reach the limit.
"Maybe one day you will convince me."
"Liar."
Her blood burns. And then Dream moves again and her blood
is boiling.
Song
Orpheus begs her to help him get Eurydice back. On his knees. Death says no.
Then her nephew stands up, looking so much like his father that Death feels a treacherous urge to try to comfort him, even if she knows there's nothing she could say to heal a broken heart. But Orpheus doesn't insist. He picks up his lyre and begins to sing.
Have you ever loved so much that
your soul follows them wherever they go?
That their absence becomes unbearable
and their existence indispensable for your heart?
Her nephew sings, and sings for what seems like hours. The most beautiful, saddest song she has ever heard in her entire existence. A song about longing, about lost hope and separation from your loved one. And Death can't help it, there are only starry eyes in her mind.
"I can only show you the way," she says when Orpheus stops singing.
Cat
He makes a cat for her. One that doesn't die, because it's a dream, like Merv, the brothers or Corinthian. Small and black, with starry eyes.
Her face is full of happiness when she sees the kitten for the first time. And she takes him in her arms and hugs him. "You always give the best gifts, Brother."
"Have you picked a name for him?"
"I'll call him Gift," Death replies. "A gift from my favorite doofus."
Love
Love belongs to Desire and Desire is always cruel.
Both of them know. They know they are dangerously close to falling under the complete control of their younger Sibling. Desire, however, only looks at them with little interest at the next family gathering. "I don't need to do anything," they say with a shrug. "Father will do it for me."
Because there is only one thing crueler than desire. Time.
Death
He was, in the part of his essence that was him and only him, suicidal.
So of course he would want her and only her.
Mother
She's wound, on a surface she can't make out, somewhere in Night's infinite realm. Dream is not far away, he is also laying there, but he doesn't move. Death opens her mouth to say his name when Night grabs her form's hair and forces her to look at her. She is undoing them. Slowly. Painfully.
"You did this to your Brother. He didn't have to end up like this. You could have been imperfect on your own, but you dragged him into your perversion and caused this," her Mother says, her golden eyes filled with fury. "Your Brother was perfect. Now he's an aberration. Just like you."
Death breaks free of the grip of that large and incomprehensibly omnipotent hand and manages to drag herself to Dream. His eyes are open, but there is hardly any sparkle in them.
"Is she killing us?" asks Dream, quietly.
"No," Death replies. "She's undoing us. I think they'll try to make us again."
"Maybe it's for the best... But I don't want to," he says ruefully. "I don't want to be a version of myself that doesn't love you."
"Dream..."
Night has lost patience, and grabs her two children tightly by the neck, forcing them to stand up.
"Dream, look at me," Death says, and Dream looks up to do so. "Look at me," she says one last time, and smiles at him the same way she did when he was born. "I'll find you."
In her final moments, Death manages to force her mother to let go of her long enough to put her lips to Dream's one last time.
And then they no longer exist.
Circle
Dream stares at the circle that imprisons him in Burgess's basement. He looks at it for a year, two years, five years, ten years, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, seventy. A century.
Death found him once, when Burgess died. She tried to free him. He rejected her and asked her not to do it. She got angry and left.
She doesn't get it. She does not understand that it is he who has to liberate himself.
He doesn't deserve to be saved.
Smile
Dream is young. Dream is innocent. Dream should have known better.
“Mother, Father,” he begs, because he doesn't know what else to do. “Her smile is gone. She has left my side and I cannot find her.”
“Such a creature should not smile,” Night says, and returns to her realm.
“You have your own obligations,” Time says, and turns his back on him.
A scream of despair leaves his throat. The scream echoes to the far reaches of the Cosmos, driving everyone who hear it insane. When he stops screaming, Dream's eyes are completely dark.
It's the day Desire and Despair were born.
Sand
The first time he kisses her is on the beach.
It hasn't been long since he recovered his freedom, and he had been feeling it for a while now. He had probably felt it for centuries, but had never admitted it to himself. But then he met Lyta Hall and he knew. There were no doubts. He was sure now.
He was dying.
Knowing that should have made him sad or desperate. However, all he felt was relief.
(He really had a death wish, didn't he? Perhaps the attraction to her had never been a coincidence)
But the relief he feels is accompanied by a tiny shred of hope. He's dying. He's dying.
It is no longer necessary to hold back.
So the next time he sees her, picking up a small crab on the beach, Dream walks right up to her, puts both hands on her cheeks, and his lips are on hers before Death can ask what is he doing.
Truth
"This is the truth," Dream whispers as the kiss ends. "What I've always wanted. And I think part of you has always known, so… please," Dream says, the words sounding too strange on his lips. They are not words he knows how to use. They are words against his nature. They are proof that things have changed. They are proof that he doesn't have much time left. "Please reject me," Dream says, and his gaze is full of sadness, but deep down, relief. "Tell me you never want to see me again. That it's just me, that it's always been just me, and that you love me but you don't love me. That you never could. That there's something very wrong with me. That you hate me now. Please, and don't lie to me. If you have any mercy left for me, break my heart into a thousand pieces. So I can move on and heal it."
"No," she replies.
Dream looks at her blankly. "No?"
"No." The sun paints reflections on the black hair of her form, the wind blows and they do not stop looking at each other. "I don't want you to do that."
"Heal?"
"Stop loving me," Death says, and if she were a mortal, her eyes would be moist and her lips would tremble. "I don't want us to never see each other again. I don't want to walk away from you. I don't want to reject you."
A forgotten feeling blooms in Dream's chest. Something he hadn't felt since his earliest eons.
Belonging.
"I want you to be mine," she admitted quietly.
"I already am."
Dream never says anything other than the complete truth.
As evening falls, they both have sand in their hair, tangled together, and looking up at the stars. They have finally returned home.
Memory
When Dream is especially sad, he creates little shapes on his hand.
One female and the other male, flying together, circling in the air, holding hands.
Dreaming
The Kindly ones are destroying The Dreaming.
They are killing him.
And he has finished the job for them and killed himself.
Death hates him, at that moment. She hates him so much that her hands are shaking and she would happily punch him and throw him off the cliff.
But it's raining, and her free will is limited, and Lucifer was right. She is a slave of herself. And her mother's voice calling her an aberration echoes in her mind and Death wonders if she hadn't been fooling herself for the past eons and Night had always been right.
Because this is her worst nightmare and she can't do anything.
"I'm sorry," Dream says, as if he hadn't known for years that it would eventually end like this. "I don't want to leave you either."
"Don't talk," Death says, and she hates him and loves him and hates him and loves him and at least she'll have one last moment in peace.
So they don't talk. They sit on the edge of the cliff under the rain, watching the Kindly Ones destroy the Dreaming. Slowly killing him. They hold hands. They hug. Death uses his shoulder as a pillow.
"I don't want them to destroy the souls here," says Dream. Because of course no one could resurrect Lucien, Eve, Alianora and the rest who hadn't been created by Dream. "They're done. I'm already dead."
Death gives a small nod and stands up, and he follows her.
"Is it like this for everyone?" Dream asks, holding out his hand.
"No," she replies, and gently pushes that hand away, careful not to touch it directly. "This is just for you."
And stepping forward, her eyes are closed and her lips are on his. Dream's right hand clings to her hair. His left hand touches her wet cheek with rain and tears.
When she opens her eyes, he is gone.
Library
Lucienne finds her in the library, in the new section with Dream's most recent favorite books. The time for the funeral is drawing near, and the librarian knows that she will put off that moment as long as she can.
She has the book 'Beren and Luthien' in her hands. Dream's notes are in its margins, positive comments on Tolkien's prose, and colored marks on his favorite parts. Lucienne listened as Death read aloud. “In his heart he called her Tinúviel, that signifies Nightingale, daughter of twilight, in the Gray elven tongue, for he knew no other name for her. And he saw her afar as leaves in the winds of autumn, an in winter as a star upon a hill, but a chain was upon his limbs.”
“You can keep that book if you want,” Lucienne said. “He would have wanted you to have it.”
Death leaves the book on the table. "No, thanks," she says before turning around and walking out of the library.
Lucienne picked up the book again. Beneath that quote, Morpheus had written a single word.
Her.
Creature
She doesn't know what name to use for Daniel Hall.
He is Dream of the Endless, and she had already been through something similar with Despair. Even if it was weird at first, she eventually got used to the fact that there was now a new aspect of Despair. Eventually everyone got used to the fact that she was Despair but another aspect of Despair and there was nothing to be done about it. Or maybe they never really understood it, and simply got tired of trying to find an answer that Cosmos was never going to give them.
“It's me,” says Daniel, all white and green and kind. Too kind. "I'm your Brother. I'm Dream.”
Death walks up to him, inches from his face. "Tell me Dream, if I approach you this way, if I look into your eyes and smile at you, do you want to kiss me?"
“...No,” he replies, and looks down as if he were embarrassed. “That…That was his alone.”
"I know," Death replies, and smiles sadly at him. "Goodbye Dream."
Death kisses his cheek, in a gesture, finally, completely fraternal, and leaves The Dreaming.
The next time she sees him, she'll call him Dream. She will pretend that nothing has happened. She will be a good sister to him. She will support him and be kind to him.
Unlike her beloved, Death had always been a good liar.
Brother
Brother. She will always call him her Brother, of course. It is what he was. They were both created by the same parents. He was her Brother and she was his Sister. And yet he was always so much more. Her first memory. Her first smile. The first time she held someone's hand simply out of a longing to touch.
He is her Brother and he is also her Beloved and now he is dead and everything is back to the way it was before he was born.
Empty.
Drown
On one of her days off, once, she drowned. She was swimming and had an accident. And she drowned. Drowning was probably the most painful death she had ever had.
Being at Dream's funeral is exactly like drowning. She just can't show it. Death keeps her face calm and says goodbye to her Beloved Brother with dignity, as he would have wanted.
She knows that Daniel Dream is not far away. She tries not to think about it. She doesn't want to see him. Dream's new aspect doesn't arouse the same feeling in her. He doesn't look at her the way he looked at her, as if he wanted to drink her in and absorb her. No, the one she loved more than everything else is gone.
Destruction once said that they weren't really alive. That they were like objects with consciousness. This pain in her chest is excruciating, and yet it was welcome. It meant that her youngest Brother was wrong.
They were alive. Dream, her Dream, had been alive. And now he was dead. And he was still alive. And he was gone forever. And he was just in his castle.
Lucifer appears at her side, at the funeral. "An slave crying. I have seen everything."
"We don't all get to choose," Death replies without looking at her.
"You could have refused to take his hand."
"The life of the one you love or the life of the entire Cosmos. It's not a choice."
"It is. I would tear the whole Creation apart with my bare hands for Mazikeen," Lucifer replied. "Without any doubt."
"Mhm," Death replies with a shrug, still drowning. "Well, I envy you."
Lucifer leans close to her ear, as if to share a secret. "He's waiting for you," she says softly, and then leaves.
Death has suddenly found the surface again.
Hope
They say that hope is the last thing to die.
It's the end. The absolute end of everything and there is only darkness.
She has already taken everyone else's hands. Delirium left giving her a big hug. Desire and Despair joined hands and took hers at the same time, smiling at her in their last moments. Destruction went back to work one last time, and when it was finally over and Cosmos was totally destroyed, he took his Sister's hand and left. Her younger white and green Brother made a graceful bow, gave her a hug, and took her hand.
Destiny watched as his book disappeared from his hands, the chain broken.
And then he falls to his knees in front of her.
“I'm free,” he says, and her older Brother is crying. “I'm free I'm free I'm free I'm free.”
And Death kneels and wraps her arms around him, the only time in an entire eternity that they've held each other.
And then he takes her hand and she is finally alone.
The door is there, waiting for her. Death takes the necklace around her neck and finally uses the key that she has carried with her all her life. She puts her ankh in the lock and the door opens.
And he's there, on the other side of the door. Black hair, pale skin, eyes of a color that has no name. And Death lets out a sob she didn't know she'd been holding back for the last million years. “Dream.”
“My Sister,” he says with a smile on his face. “Although actually, right now, I am Death too. I am your death," said he extending his hand. "Will you take my hand?"
Death takes it without hesitation. “Have you really been waiting for me all this time?”
"I had already waited for you for an eternity, there's not much difference in waiting for two."
Death throws herself into his arms, fully determined to never let him go again.
And with one last kiss, the universe comes to an end.
"Shall we go?" asks him, offering her his arm.
Death takes it immediately. "Let's go. I just have to close the door behind me.”
An aspiring human writer once said that happy endings knew where to stop, because if a story continued to its end, it would inevitably end up in death. However, she forgot to consider the fact that some deaths are happier than others.
After all, whoever said hope dies last wasn't entirely correct.
Hope never dies.