Chapter Text
,“I believe that makes all things settled, Miss Foster.” David Jacobson’s voice might have turned frail with age, but it certainly failed to lose an ounce of assertiveness as he walked alongside you out of the main doors. “All of your personal belongings, including your savings, will be split between all singled-out charities as per your instructions.”
His lined face betrayed just a hint of hesitance when he spoke next.
“If I may be so bold to enquire, do you know this gentleman, certain Mr. Bailey, well enough for such a generous gift? He of course will be notified of his inherited property next week but… I just wanted to be certain you have not changed your mind about this.”
Your smile was a soft one.
“Indeed I have not, David,” you confirmed. “And I know of him well enough to understand that he has done enough hard work and redemption to deserve a proper home for him and his family. I am also quite certain he will have no trouble remembering me once he reads the letter I have made arrangements to be delivered on Monday.”
Your attorney did not press further, allowing himself instead to touch the brim of his hat in a sincere sign of respect.
“Then I have nothing else left to say then to wish you well, Miss Foster,” he said, first hint of sadness creeping into his eyes that you have ever seen. “It was my honour to be in your service for the past sixty years, just as my father and his forefathers before him. Wherever you are headed next, Miss, I hope you will find what you are searching for.”
“Thank you, David. Indeed, I already have.”
The attorney gave you a ginger smile and another bow. “Good. Goodbye, Miss Foster.”
Watching the elderly man walking away from you down the side-walk, leaning just so slightly on his cane, you unwittingly had a flashback of the same street from years ago, when you saw David for the first time. Trailing on the heels of his father, eager for his training in the craft of the mind.
He just turned fifteen the fortnight before that.
Overwhelmed by encompassing wariness once more, you nevertheless made a mental note to yourself to track him down in the Dreaming in the nearest future. Even though David Jacobson never knew the full extent of your nature and story, he was one of the few people you dared to let into your life one way or another, even if it was for pure professional reasons to start with. And even though you were leaving the Waking World behind, you were not keen on abandoning him in his dreams just yet.
Stepping back into the house, you resolutely shut the front door of your home with finality.
Making your way upstairs, furniture and rooms no longer held your attention, covered with white sheets against the dust until the new owner claimed them next.
The time in the Waking World has come to an end. And thus you settled yourself on the empty mattress with a sense of finality, knowing that your skills no longer had the need of you to be asleep to appear where you had to be.
Your eyes closed in this world as an immortal human for the last time.
When your eyelids fluttered open next, you were a tidbit disorientated, but the sight in front of you made you force the cloudiness away swiftly.
For there stood the grandest and most beautiful gates in possible existence.
The Gates of Horn.
You were not sure for how long you remained there, staring up at the grandeur rising all the way up into the skies, in wonder. Especially knowing who carved them single-handedly eons ago for the sole purpose of setting order in their realm.
For it was your first time appearing in front of them, the amazement was not easy to be battled away, even though you already hand an inkling that the feeling will not fade away for countless years to come.
Relevantly, you let the palm of your hand press against the smooth surface, and almost instantly a resonating thrum vibrated all around you, warmth pulsating gently under your skin.
The Gates began to open.
It was for the very first time you beheld the Dreaming from such vantage point of view, and it took your breath away. You already knew the Dreamworld to be infinite, even bounded as it were by its two main Gates. The sheer beauty of the realm, however, was something you felt you would never tire of. And thus, you took your step through the Gates of Horn, and walked along the lands once more. Barefoot, savouring the feel of every stone and grass under your soles.
Passing through various lands of imagination come to life, the darker ones did not escape your path either. And as you walked them, nightmares scattered at your approach, whilst some bowed to you. You even fancied seeing a familiar trio among their midst, eyes shining bright in the darkness hovering around you. But before you knew, you were walking along fields of flowers once more, and a familiar voice whispered in the wind around and above you;
“Welcome home, my Lady”
Not once have you looked back, and neither were you planning on doing so. You knew the laws. You have read the book. So, you continued on walking, eyes trained resolutely on the palace looming in the distance. Minutes might have hours, and they might have as well been days. Time did not rule these lands. So, you continued further. Landscapes shifted oh so slightly here and there, right until you reached the bridge looming majestically above the flowing river below. Dreamers walked along it, most of them not paying any attention to you, mesmerized as they were by their surroundings. There were, however, a handful that gave you a second glance, some going as far as stopping in their tracks with a tell-telling expression of wonder as if they have seen you before, though not knowing where and when.
And still you continued walking, until the palace doors creaked open at your approach and you found yourself standing at the entrance of the Throne Room.
One barely noticeable intake of breath, another step forward.
Countless dreams, nightmares and others filled the room, inclining their heads as you strolled past. You smiled in return, making sure none were left without attention, but at the end only one truly held all of it.
Morpheus.
The King of Dreams and Nightmares stood beside his throne, adorned in ceremonious robes you have never seen before. Black as per custom, fire appeared to lick at their hem. And as his own dark gaze looked down at you, he never looked more beautiful or proud to you than at that moment.
Eyes locked, you halted at the bottom of the dais. Absolute silence settled in the Throne Room, nothing and no one not daring to make a sound.
When Morpheus finally spoke, his deep voice resonated around the Throne Room and beyond.
“The waking world has given you life, grief, love and pain. And yet, you come here seeking comfort. Why? Do you think it is a haven?”
“No,” you replied, your tone confident. “It is my home.”
“And what am I to you, Dorothea the Dreamwalker?”
“My home. My king. My soulmate.”
Even from below you saw him swallow, the barest of emotion he allowed himself. But when he spoke next, he was as resolute as ever.
The path was strict but an honest one, and neither of you could afford to lose focus now.
“My realm is not made just out of dreams and light, for nightmares were and forever will be a part of it. Are you not afraid of my darkness?”
“No. I am wanting and willing to embrace it, as well as share darkness of my own.”
“Have you come here willingly, understanding what shall take place? For you need to comprehend that if you submit yourself, it will be both to the Dreaming and me, for we are one.”
“Yes.”
One breathed out word was enough.
Turning around, Morpheus settled himself on his rightful seat of power, his arms settled on armrests of the throne and legs parted.
“Then submit to me,” he declared, his dark eyes fastened on you still standing below. “Submit and become our equal, tied for all eternity.”
The sensation of your bare soles against the marble barely registered in your mind as you began to walk up the spiraling steps. As with the lands of the Dreaming, the journey up the stairwell was both swift and endless. Time appeared to halt one moment, marble turning into fire under your feet, and then turning ice cold the next as time shifted once more.
Cringing your teeth, you stubbornly carried on climbing. Stopping only when you found yourself standing right in front of the throne, so close that Morpheus’ own bare feet almost touched yours.
“Submit.”
After all the years of your existence, would you have ever thought it will all come to this? Surely not. But you knew this was different. Necessary. You had to accept your own weakness, the power of your submission, and you were willing to do more than that to find your peace and destiny.
“Yes, my King,” you whispered and reached for the fastening behind your neck.
One tag, and the dress unraveled, sliding languidly against your skin until it finally pooled at your feet.
You found yourself neither frightened nor uncomfortable, for you no longer felt the presence of the others. The King will never be one to share the sight of his consort with any of his subjects.
You never experienced a keener sensuality than you were having now, as the obsidian gaze traced the lines of your naked body. Or the sensation of being all-powerful as his fingers flexed against the armrests at the hungry study of your heaving breasts, dip of your waist and flare of your thighs.
A single step was all it took to bring you standing right above Morpheus, but he himself still did not move an inch. Except for his eyes. The tension and sheer will of self-control showed clearly as he looked up at you under his brow, his mouth slightly open.
Without breaking eye contact, you allowed your right leg to swing into the position closely followed by the other, until your naked thighs rested firmly on both sides of his. Instinctively, your hands clutched at the most convenient leverage; the throne’s headrest right above Morpheus’ head. The position brought you even further closer to his body. And even though his was fully clothed against your naked skin, it seemed to make everything even more sensitive.
“This is your last chance, Thea,” intoned Morpheus, almost against his will. “Either you walk away now, or never again. For I shall never let you go.”
“Never.”
His hand moved so fast it was a blur, clutching the nape of your neck the next moment, yanking you forward. Your mouths clashed together, sheer want and need. You groaned in relief against his lips as he devoured yours, all the while feeling his other hand snaking around your waist and bringing you even closer to him.
Then, suddenly, you felt naked flesh against yours. Cool against your feverish one, as always it did nothing to dumper your burning. Sensations heightened, you nipped at his lower lip before practically tearing your mouth from his. You had to see.
Morpheus was a piece of art. Sculpted from stone, lean but muscled all over. Sinewy muscles lined his slender body, pale ethereal skin practically glowing against his throne. And all of that was spread right beneath you now.
“Is everything to your liking?”
Never one to back down, you responded to his teasing taunt right away.
“I will refrain from answering, lest I stroke your ego to yet higher unimaginable heights than it is already. But if that is your way of extending the ceremony for some play time, I am all up for it.”
His hands grabbed your thighs forcefully in response, your skin denting under his fingers. All it did was to make you groan again.
“No games,” hissed Morpheus. “You will be my consort and Queen of the Dreaming. You had your chance to back out.”
“I just want us to belong to each other.”
“You are mine.”
Hands still on your hips, he pushed you down against him and brought his hips upwards. Splayed against him, open and vulnerable, you felt his hardness dig into you forcibly, eliciting another moan from you.
“Yes,” he whispered against your ear. “Feel me. Open yourself to me, to all of what I am and become one with me.”
And that is all you could do now, was to feel. His hands holding you in place as he grinded you against him, each shift of his hips making him slide all of his length back and forth against your nether lips.
Unable to resist, you glanced down the length of your body.
Enthralled, you watched how his cock glided between your folds, glistening with both of your fluids, the visual stimulation making your insides clench in such need it was on a brink of pain.
Your breath hitched as his cock brushed against your clit. Over and over again, you watched with your mouth slightly parted as he teased you. Sending small shocks of pleasure in an endless, torturous current.
“Morpheus,” you croaked, throwing your head back in desperation as his cock pressed harder against you.
“Submit to me. You know what to do. Submit to me fully for one last time as a human to share all of what you are and become my equal.”
Head reeling but knowing what must be done, you unclutched your hands from the throne. Reaching down, you allowed your fingers to slide down towards your sensitive folds, the written instructions standing clearly in your memory. And thus, you opened yourself to Morpheus with your own hands, your knees practically shaking.
“I give you, Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares, Ruler of the Dreaming, that which is mine to give. I shall serve you and the Dreaming in the ways you and the realm require, sharing in your power as your Queen and Consort until the end of our time. I pledge to you that yours will be the only name I cry aloud in the nights and days of life eternal. This is my vow to you.”
Morpheus said nothing else, but you already knew that he won’t.
Instead, he lifted you up and plunged into you with one forceful thrust, forcing from you a shriek that filled the throne room.
You were so wet he went in easy, but he was big enough and you unpracticed that it was still a tight fit. Your walls clutched at his length, and you could have sworn you felt every vein running the length of his cock pulsating inside of you.
Before you could get fully used to the fullness, Morpheus began to move.
Dragging himself out of your depths with his hands lifting your hips above him, he slammed you down back on his length with a strength that made you let out an unfettered sound somewhere between a tortured sob and a cry of delight.
You felt him instantly pause at the sound, which made you clutch his shoulders instead, nails unwittingly digging deep into his skin.
“Do not stop,” you groaned out, your lips touching his ear. “Please, just do not stop, Morpheus.”
“Never.”
His legs shifted behind you, and the force of his resumed movements momentarily unbalanced you. Your hands found his chest to steady yourself as you felt him go all they way up the hilt, hard enough that you moaned again. He fit perfectly. You always knew he would.
Adjusting yourself every so slightly, you gripped his biceps as a wave of urgency and want overcame you. You began to move, rising up and down as your shared breathing grew more rapid and unsteady.
“Thea.”
The sound of his voice. It was rich, deep and dark. And filled to the brim with pure carnality.
With every stroke, warmth began to spread along your veins, until the point where you felt waves of pulsation dance along skin back and forth. But still not enough.
“Take me, King of Dreams and Nightmares,” you groaned desperately. “Take me as you wish and let the Dreaming know to whom I belong.”
Morpheus lifted you then, so quick you barely had time to react to the swiftness of his movements. Flipping you over, you found yourself looking up at him now, your body now spread half-lying on the throne. And then he stole your breath completely, plunging back into your depths at once.
Your legs wrapped around his slender waist as he began to fuck you into the seat of his power.
His hips snaped harshly back and forth, and you cried out in your own growing ecstasy. The wet sound of flesh meeting flesh was all you could hear, and all it did was make you even wetter if it was even possible. His cock seemed to reach deeper, impossibly so, until it was hard to distinguish where you ended, and he began. Unwittingly, your hands gripped his back, nails digging into his skin as he moved relentlessly inside you.
“Morpheus.”
His eyes met yours, and they were once again bottomless chasms of darkness with stars shining within them.
Eyes locked with his, the ecstasy continued to build as he began to hit a particular spot deep within you over and over again. Too overwhelmed by the movement of his cock, his eyes and all that he was, you fluttered your eyes shut and threw your head back.
It was then that you registered a shift. The stone beneath you began to pulse to your own heart rhythm, quickening with every shift of taken breath.
Sensing the same, Morpheus’ thrusts began to grow more desperate, erratic.
He groaned, leaning down with his movements, and you could feel the smooth skin of his chest brush against your own. Instinctively digging your fingers into his back, you felt blood pooling under your nails where they pierced the flesh.
Blood of the King.
“Dorothea… Thea. My heart, my soul…my Consort.”
Morpheus speared deep inside you, brining his hips flush against yours. You felt his lips momentarily brush your throat in tenderness before his teeth sank deep into your flesh, brief flash of pain before it became something hot, wet and overwhelming.
Blood of the Consort.
His face buried in your neck, your blood in his mouth, his body twitched, and then he was coming.
Seed of the King.
With that one last thrust, he filled you up completely, so much you could not tell reality from a dream. Warmth filled your abdomen like a scorched heat mixed with glacial coldness. You arched and shuddered, screaming his name, his disheveled head cradled in your hands, waves of electric pleasure rippling through muscles and nerves until your very mind went blank.
Release…Rapture…Love of the Consort.
Love. That was the trickiest and most unpredictable “ingredient” of the ritual. For no one knew if it will work, unless the chosen queen-to-be was judged to love the King of Dreams and Nightmares unconditionally by powers beyond anyone’s control, until the very moment it was supposed to take place.
The room was changing, or you were changing for it, the throne beneath you suddenly humming non-stop as you threw your head back.
Your vision blurred and you suddenly felt The Dreaming.
Tendrils of your being began to flow across every nook and corner of the realm. As if it was a part of you, your soul, your senses. You were part of it, just as it was part of you.
And the Realm knew it. Felt your presence, as you passed it. Glided along its plains, mountains, fields and rivers. And all rejoiced.
For the Dreaming finally had a Queen.
That night, every living creature that could Dream, dreamt of a young woman with impossibly silver hair, her beauty unparalleled with any other, no matter what taste was in the eye of the beholder. And each woke up feeling a bit in love with that stranger from their dreams, even if the memory of her itself drifted away in time.
But for those that felt most rejoiced for no reason they understood themselves, nightmares ended up visiting them less in the lifetime that remained for them.
For the Dream of the Endless himself was the happiest and generous he ever was, and was destined to never be alone again.