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**read chapter one here** - **read chapter two here** - **read chapter three here** - **read chapter four here** - **read chapter five here**

Morpheus/Dream x fem!reader

In Your Dreams

Chapter 6

“Dreams are the seedlings of realities.”

-James Allen

The Lord of Dreams walked leisurely beside you through the stone halls of his castle, hand now withdrawn and resting at his side. You ignored the tiny prickle of disappointment in your bones at the loss of his touch. He was watching you, eyes churning with his thoughts—none of which you could read.

“So… I’m not a vortex, then? Whatever that is?” you asked quietly, looking up at him. “Is that a good thing?”

“That’s a wonderful thing,” he replied. He looked away from you, ahead. His gait slowed but was still very graceful. “A vortex is a thing of immense power. They can pose a great threat to both The Dreaming and the waking world alike.”

You audibly sighed in relief. “Oh. Well, thank God. The last thing I want to do is be a danger to anyone.”

Morpheus’s icy blue gaze was brushing over you again, filled with curiosity. His eyes roamed your face, as if your features were a puzzle to be solved. You looked away from him, begging the blush that was starting to heat the back of your ears to go away. You could feel his stare.

“The fact remains,” he said after a beat, voice quiet but serious, “that you may not be a vortex, but you are able to traverse this realm in a way that no one but a vortex, or myself, should.”

You gulped down the lump of discomfort in your throat.

“Lucienne told me that I was a lucid dreamer… one of the first she’s seen in ages. Could that have something to do with it?”

Dream shook his head once.

“Even the most talented of lucid dreamers are not capable of entering the heart of The Dreaming uninvited,” he stated.

That word, “uninvited”, sent a pang through your chest. You knew that you weren’t supposed to be here, but something about his phrasing made you feel very self-conscious, almost embarrassed.

“I—I didn’t mean to intrude,” you told him quickly, your nervous gaze casting to the shining stone floor. Your chest constricted with your next words. “If you want, I can leave—”

A pale hand shot away from his side and closed around your wrist. The sudden action almost made you jump, that delectable murmur of something indescribable skirting across your skin instantaneously. Your wide eyes rose to his penetrating ones.

“Uninvited, but not unwelcome,” Dream spoke earnestly, his words carrying such weight. The softness in his expression was hidden, but you could detect it in the rise of his brows, in the subtle parting of his lips.

Your eyes darted down to his fingers closed around your wrist, and as soon as they did, he released his grip and his hand snapped back to his side. Morpheus’s fingers twitched before he slipped the offending hand into the pocket of his long, black coat. His expression slid into something stoic, a wall going up faster than the bricks flying into place on the outside of his palace.

The sudden tension thickening the air made your throat sticky with nerves.

The two of you continued your slow walk, his hands in his coat pockets and yours twisting in front of you. The stiffness in the atmosphere scratched underneath your skin, a pest.

“So,” you offered suddenly, desperate to break the abrupt silence, “Lucienne said that you were on a quest to find your tools?”

Dream’s face remained impassive, but you didn’t miss the almost-imperceptible sigh of relief that escaped his nose. You gathered that he was glad for the change of subject.

“Yes,” he answered, chin rising with thinly-veiled pride, “my sand, my helm, and my ruby.”

A realization stitched together in your brain. “They were taken from you, weren’t they? By Roderick Burgess?”

At the mention of the Demon King’s name, Morpheus visibly hardened. His full lips pressed into a thin and unhappy line. He nodded, but barely.

“I’d heard about a few things,” you began cautiously, eyes now glued to his impassive profile, watching for any indication that you should stop talking. “That the Burgesses’ lives started going to shit when some of his favorite relics went missing.”

Dream stayed expressionless beside you. You took that as a sign to keep going.

“But they were never his, they were yours? Huh. Serves that asshole right.”

At that, the Dream King’s stony façade slipped, but only for the briefest of moments. The corner of his mouth twitched upward before it settled back into a brood.

“As deserving of misfortune as Roderick Burgess may have been, I would have much preferred my tools be waiting for me when I escaped,” Morpheus replied, his voice stained with annoyance. He quieted for a moment, icy blue eyes settling onto your face. They were swirling again with some well-hidden feeling that you couldn’t decipher. “When you released me,” he corrected himself, soft tone tinted with thankfulness.

“Did you find them all?” you asked.

“Indeed,” he answered, his shoulders straightening with pride. You smiled at him brightly.

“Good. I’m glad,” you said sincerely, meeting his guarded gaze with a kind one. You were truly happy to see that he was doing well after he’d disappeared in a flurry of blinding light and whipping wind. “I’ll be honest… I was worried about you.”

Morpheus was moved by your concern, even if he concealed it well.

“You needn’t,” he stated simply.

He seemed perplexed by your unease, as if a being such as himself was not worth this emotion on your part—like he was too powerful for your unease over his welfare to be warranted.

You thought your feelings were justifiable, however. He’d been captured and held against his will for 100 years. Dream wasn’t untouchable.

Suddenly, the dark hallway opened into a stunning, cathedral-like throne room. The stone arches stretched above you, massive yet intricate, stemming from carved marble statues of creatures that both inspired and frightened you. Everything was dark, shining stone, gargantuan and intimidating. Your eyes traveled upward on a nearby column, to the statue of a griffin on its top, to the arch sprouting from its back that disappeared into a stunning star-filled night sky. You craned your neck as far as you could without losing your balance, turning in a slow circle to fully appreciate the multicolored galaxy that twinkled and twirled where the ceiling should be.

You didn’t bother to hide your awed gasp or to close your slack jaw.

“Dream…” you breathed, barely above a whisper, your eyes raking every inch of the milky constellations, “did you – did you make this?”

When he didn’t reply, you tore your eyes from the universe above your head and looked for him. He had taken a few steps back from you, standing in front of the winding stone staircase with the most peculiar look in his eyes. He was watching you take it all in.

At your imploring look, he dropped his chin in a nod, eyes beginning to twinkle. “I did.”

You let out an admiring breath and grinned, placing your hands over your heart as you looked toward the sky again. You turned in another circle, trying to appreciate every last detail, but your eyes were always finding a new cloud filled with colors or a shooting star that flashed by where it hadn’t been before.

“I could just look at this for hours,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “This has to be the most beautiful thing I��ve ever seen.”

You felt his presence beside you, but you didn’t tear your eyes from the ceiling this time. You could feel the prickle of Dream’s stare on your cheek. After a moment, the sensation ceased. He tilted his head back to observe the night sky too, shoulder now barely brushing against yours. You chanced a glance up at him. The strong line of his jaw was cast in sharp relief against the twinkling blue light of the heavens above. His profile seemed to be carved from the same dark marble that wove throughout the castle.

“It is a wonder,” Morpheus began, voice as warm and smooth as velvet, “to see my world through new eyes. To fully appreciate the most miniscule of details that escaped my notice long ago.”

The corners of your lips upturned bashfully at his gratitude for your perspective.

“Miniscule?” you repeated quietly, almost afraid that if you spoke too loudly the stars would hear you and scamper away. A disbelieving chuckle escaped your throat. “If this is just the tip of the iceberg, I can’t begin to imagine the rest.”

Dream’s reaction to you was beginning to seep through the stony mask he’d formed after grabbing your wrist. He was still staring up at the galaxy-filled ceiling, but his lashes fluttered almost-imperceptibly at your tone. Your voice was filled with so much sincerity and genuine care. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple noticeably dipping.

His chin dropped ever so slightly, his gaze dropping with it. Those incredible eyes shifted to you again and you hastily snapped yours back to the breathtaking ceiling, hoping with every fiber of your being that Morpheus hadn’t caught you staring. Then, as if on cue, a fire began to creep up your neck and stain your cheeks. Your hands fisted at your sides, frustrated at your body’s inability to fucking chill. You were an adult, damn it.

You were suddenly hyperaware of everything: of the air thick with tension, of your thundering heart, of the warm pressure of his coat-clad arm against your naked one, of his endless eyes caressing the side of your heated face, of that intoxicating vibration in the center of your bones that was pulsating at his proximity.

You felt like you were going insane.

“Lord Morpheus, are you ready to review the cens—? Oh.”

Lucienne strode into the throne room with a raven flying close behind her, a large leather ledger in her arms. She was all business and ready to work; that is, until she looked up from her book. The two of you jumped apart at her arrival as if scalded, your face the color of a pink rose and Morpheus looking uncharacteristically off-kilter.

To your shock, the raven spoke.

“And who is this?” he asked smugly, head cocking to fix you with a beady eye.

“My deepest apologies, my lord,” Lucienne stammered, clearing her throat. “We did not mean to interrupt—”

“No, Lucienne,” Dream stated, regal coolness sliding back into place in the blink of an eye, “you are not interrupting any matter of importance.”

Lucienne cautiously stepped further into the vast room, the bird hopping behind her. Her eyes peered at you and her king over the edge of her round spectacles. Her probing gaze did nothing to douse the flush that betrayed you.

“I repeat my question,” the raven declared, flying forward to land directly in front of you. “Who are you, milady?”

You stifled a grin at his nosy tone. “I’m Y/N.”

The black bird’s feathers ruffled, then he shook it off, like it was some involuntary reaction that he wasn’t used to yet.

“Ohhh, you’re Y/N!” the raven realized, awe evident in his voice. His head tilted to the side again, as if to get a better look at you. “You’re the knight in shining armor that came to the boss’s rescue!”

You laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t know if I’d say it like that…”

The bird hopped closer to Morpheus, who was now looking annoyed.

“She’s pretty for a knight,” the raven whispered conspiratorially, turning his head to the side and blinking at Dream in what was clearly meant to be a wink.

Morpheus’s jaw ticked.

“Thanks?” you chuckled.

“Ugh, where are my manners?” the bird scolded himself, fluttering to land in front of you again. “The name’s Matthew.”

You grinned at him now, deciding that you very much liked this raven. He was a sassy one.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matthew.”

“Now that introductions are finished, let us continue on, shall we?” Lucienne cut in, throwing an irritated but amused glance in Matthew’s direction. The raven was unbothered.

The librarian sighed and regarded you with a knowing look that made you squirm. With a bracing of her shoulders and a quick blink, she stood to her full height and was once again formal. Her eyes returned to the dream king.

“I have completed the census you requested, Lord Morpheus,” she stated proudly.

Dream’s eyes glinted in approval. “Good. And?”

“I have accounted for 11,062 of them.”

“Wow,” Matthew said, regarding Lucienne with admiration. “Someone’s been busy.”

“Yes. Well…” she shrugged with a smile, flattered. Lucienne handed the large ledger to Morpheus, who began to thumb through it gingerly. “There are a handful of new entities.”

“That is to be expected,” Morpheus said lightly, turning a page with his pale fingers. You wanted to peer around him to see a bit of Lucienne’s handiwork, but you didn’t want to insert yourself into matters that didn’t pertain to you. You stayed a few steps away, playing with your hands.

Lucienne blinked, taking a large breath, steeling herself for something.

“But… three of the Major Arcana are gone.”

Dream’s icy blue eyes shot up from the ledger, fixing his librarian with a commanding and authoritative gaze. It amazed you, and almost frightened you, the ability he had to radiate power from just his eyes alone.

“Name them.”

Lucienne obeyed.

“The first is Gault,” she explained. Morpheus’s head turned away from the three of you, toward the winding staircase and his throne. Your eyes followed his and settled onto three long and beautiful stained-glass windows. You stared, enthralled, as the leftmost window began to morph and rearrange its glass pieces. They spun into the image of a woman with dark skin and blank, pupil-less eyes. “A Nightmare who, I must say, I never trusted.”

“She is a shape-changer,” Dream stated, his gaze returning to Lucienne with an undercurrent of trepidation. “It is not in her nature to be trustworthy.” His brows furrowed in concern. “Who else?”

Lucienne was hiding her discomfort well, but you could still sense it.

“The Corinthian.”

Morpheus’s eyes cast to his windows again. You watched as the stained-glass in the middle began to swirl and change as well, glass shards sliding together to reveal the image of a forbidding man in a hat and suit, eyes hidden by circular black sunglasses. Something in your gut churned, disquieted at the sight.

“I assumed as much,” the King of Dreams replied, voice low with shrouded anger. “Still feeding on the dreamers he was meant to serve.”

“Yes,” the librarian nodded.

Morpheus was still now, rapt with alarmed attention. “The last?”

Lucienne’s brows pulled together, clearly disturbed the most by the words she was about to speak.

“The last is Fiddler’s Green.”

“Fiddler’s Green?” Dream repeated, stunned. Lucienne hummed in acknowledgement.

All of your heads turned toward the remaining stained-glass window, watching as it altered itself into the picturesque image of green trees and mountains with a crystal river cutting through its valley. This confused you. Why was a place, not a person, revealed in the glass?

“That is passing strange,” Morpheus stated, perplexed. His eyes fell to the floor in troubled thought before rising to Lucienne. “He is, after all, vavasor of his own dominion and always so reliable.”

“I know,” Lucienne agreed.

An uncomfortable silence weighed on the air. Dream swallowed, voice wrought with guilt.

“This is my fault. Had I been here, fulfilling my function—”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest at his words. He had been held against his will. How could he possibly take the blame for this?

“That’s not true,” you spoke suddenly, the thought pouring out before you could stop it.

Lucienne nodded vigorously in agreement with you.

“It was not your fault, my lord.”

“No?” he countered, his guilt turning into grieved acceptance. “Then whose?”

Lucienne stared at her sensible shoes, avoiding his intense gaze. His head turned to you, waiting for a retort, but you knew that nothing you could say would make him lift the burden of fault from himself.

“I’m afraid there is yet more news,” the head librarian began, tone measured and cautious. “Gossip, really, but…”

“Go on,” Morpheus implored.

“There are rumors among the dream folk… of a vortex. Perhaps you might wish to investigate.”

Your ears perked up at this. Morpheus’s eyes slid in your direction, then back to Lucienne. He closed the heavy ledger with a discernable thud.

“The rumors are quite true,” he responded, tone much blither than you would have predicted. Lucienne obviously hadn’t been expecting this reaction either, her doubtful brows raising in surprise. He spoke his next words like a sonnet. “A true annulet. The first of this era.”

He was intrigued by this. If what he told you about vortexes were true, how could he be so calm? Lucienne voiced your thoughts before you could.

“Then you must hunt for it, sir! It must be controlled,” she insisted passionately, disturbed by his lack of apprehension.

Morpheus turned away from Lucienne, Matthew, and you, taking elegant steps toward the center of the immense room. His head tipped back thoughtfully as he took in the glowing sight of the nearest galaxy that spun above your heads. Your eyes followed his to see the ceiling beginning to alter, stars and light rippling like water to reveal the outline of a young woman’s sleeping face.

“The vortex is a she, Lucienne. Not an “it”,” he stated matter-of-factly. You didn’t know how, but every word he spoke was lined with such weight, such wisdom, always. “And the Endless are forbidden from taking action against any mortal who is not an active threat.”

Your mind spun at his statement. They once considered you a threat to The Dreaming, didn’t they? You weren’t entirely sure they had decided that you weren’t one.

“Yes, but should the threat become active?” Lucienne insisted.

“Then, perhaps one of our problems may prove a solution to the other three,” the King of Dreams replied, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “She is a vortex, after all. Sooner or later, she will draw the stray dreams to her.”

Lucienne wasn’t convinced.

“Is that not risky, Lord?” she questioned. “She could destroy The Dreaming. And the waking world in the process.”

All of your gazes rose again to the sleeping woman’s face.

“I’m watching her,” Morpheus asserted.

“Yes, but only when she sleeps. Perhaps one of us should surveil her in the waking world.”

You swallowed. This woman, this vortex, sounded dangerous. Should you volunteer to watch her? You were the only one in the room that spent the majority of their life in the waking world, after all.

“I think it best I not leave The Dreaming unattended for now,” Morpheus said. You understood his reluctance to leave his realm so soon after its recent return to normalcy.

“I could go,” Matthew volunteered. He looked back and forth between Lucienne and his master hopefully. Dream thought on this for a moment.

“Very well,” he acquiesced, seemingly satisfied. “Lucienne will tell you what to look for, Matthew.” Morpheus’s gaze searched the twinkling beams of light that shaped the slumbering woman’s face. “And what you see, I too will see.”

Suddenly, the woman’s eyes opened, awakened, and her abrupt gaze startled you. As quickly as her face had appeared, it sunk away into the night sky until nothing remained but the unassuming swaths of starlight and swirling color.

“She woke up,” Matthew observed, wings giving a quick flutter of excitement at his new mission.

“I could help,” you proposed, turning away from the beautiful sky to lock gazes with the lead librarian and the dream king. Matthew cawed at your offer. You couldn’t tell if he was enthused by the notion or if he resented the idea of needing assistance.

“I’m not sure if that’s the best idea,” Lucienne answered hesitantly, watching you over the top of her glasses.

“I’m the only one here who spends most of my time in the waking world, right?” you asked. “I might as well be of some use while I’m there.” You shrugged, then fixed Morpheus with a hopeful look. “Let me help.”

“It isn’t that we don’t appreciate your enthusiasm,” Lucienne told you gently, then turned to her Lordship. “But, sire, we still don’t know the extent of Y/N’s abilities within The Dreaming and what they could mean for the realm. Would it be wise for her to be exposed to this vortex? What if it only makes things worse?”

“Lucienne makes a valid point,” Morpheus agreed, remaining unmoved by your hopeful gaze. However, his voice softened. “While your desire to assist is admirable, the welfare of The Dreaming must come before all else.”

You visibly deflated.

“I mean… I understand,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “But surely I can be of some assistance, in some way? Even if it means not being around the vortex—Rose—when I’m awake. This seems like a big deal, and the last thing I want to do is sit around, doing nothing, while everyone is working to prevent some kind of disaster.”

Lucienne’s lips curved into a small smile, her eyes twinkling with appreciation.

Morpheus took a measured step toward you with his expressive eyes reflecting some form of sentiment. As always, whatever meaning twirled inside those endless orbs escaped you.

“If exposure to Rose Walker impacts you negatively, in any way—and in turn, The Dreaming—I would have no choice but to take action,” he expounded, each word coated in a careful timbre. Dream’s dark brows pulled together, his expression morphing into something quite pained. “For any harm to befall you, to bring harm to you… it is the last thing I wish.”

Something fluttered in your chest at the emotion in his words, at the unfiltered force of his poignant stare. Then, the heaviness of his confession settled onto your shoulders in a suffocating jolt. Morpheus had just told you, in no uncertain terms, that if you became a threat to The Dreaming, he would have to kill you along with the vortex. The idea of that terrified you beyond explanation, but the very clear agony in his eyes at the thought of having to carry out such a thing gave you a tiny, strange sense of comfort.

It wasn’t just that he was protecting The Dreaming, he was protecting you.

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Matthew cawed, hopping toward you with his dark eyes doing their best to relay comfort. “I got this covered. No need to put you in any danger.”

You smiled at the raven. “I’ve got nothing but faith in you, Matthew.”

“Perhaps… you could assist me in the library?” Lucienne offered suddenly. “In addition to this business surrounding the vortex and the missing Arcana, we still need to assess your abilities and discover their source.” Her eyes flickered to Morpheus with thinly-veiled concern. “The more proactive we are, the more certain I am that we can prevent any… well, threat… that you could potentially pose to the realm.”

Dream gave a decisive nod almost immediately. He was tall by your side; compelling and rippling with silent authority.

“Yes,” the king agreed, voice quiet but commanding. His eyes implored for you to heed him. “Y/N, accompany Lucienne to the library. Assist her with anything she requests of you. Allaying the possibility of your capabilities becoming a risk—it is of the utmost importance.”

You told yourself that this was important to him because the safety of his realm was paramount, that there was no other reason—but that little voice in the back of your head was spurred on by that delightful humming in your cells. He cares about you… it murmured, sickeningly sweet. You pushed it down and locked it away.

“Keeping dreams alive and well… that’s what’s most important,” you eventually said, looking to the sparkling heavens of the throne room with awestruck affection. “If that’s what I can do to keep this place safe, I’ll do it. No questions asked.”

Your words seemed to touch something for Morpheus. For maybe the first time since you’d met Dream of the Endless, his closed lips upturned into a true smile. The sight was a striking one, and the rarity of such an occurrence dawned on you at the stunned look on Lucienne’s face. Matthew fluttered to your side in a silent seal of approval.

As Dream had requested, you left the throne room by Lucienne’s side to return to the library and begin your research. Morpheus’s watchful eyes followed your retreating form until you were out of sight.

Matthew glided over your heads, leading the way. You didn’t miss his smug remark when he soared past your ear.

“I didn’t know he could smile.”

Chapter 7 is coming soon!

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