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unpredictable-probabilities · 3 days

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Of Spells and Sons

Summary:

Hob and his crew are stranded on an island after their ship got damaged from a storm.

When his crew gets captured in a sorcerer’s palace, Hob follows and negotiates with the sorcerer to free them.

He only hopes to resist getting ensnared himself.

Word Count: 7,310

Notes (more at the end):

For Dreamling Week Day 1: Indulgence and First Time

Have fun reading!

(Read on AO3)

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The ivory gates stood tall on the sand, intricate carvings of fantastical creatures adorned every surface.

They looked exactly like how William described them; Hob had found the palace.

The most remarkable thing about the gates was that they were open. Hob would have expected such sturdy fortifications to serve the purpose of keeping people out, and perhaps it would have been better that way, if these gates had been closed and quite troublesome to open.

Perhaps then Hob would have had an excuse to heed William’s words and just leave while they still could.

But even as he pondered it, Hob knew that he would not be able to turn away when his men were still trapped inside. They trusted him as their captain, and he would not abandon them in the hands of a sorcerer.

Hob steeled himself and walked in.

The gates opened up to a garden; the sweet smell of herbs and flowers permeated the air, and birds twittered on a small fountain filled with flowing water. A set of steps led onto a wide porch where shelves of books were carved into the walls, reaching a tall ceiling decorated with a stained glass window which allowed colours to dapple softly onto the floor, the cushioned chairs, and what seemed like a large reading nook in the corner furnished with a round mattress and a few pillows.

At a glance, it looked just like what one would expect of a lord’s house, but the hairs on Hob’s arms stood on end. The air seemed to prickle, like the moment just before a lightning strike, and Hob recalled his conversation with William no more than half an hour ago.

“William?” Hob stood up from inspecting the damage to the ship’s hull. The storm last night had caused them to bash against an outcropping of jagged rocks on the beach, and until the hull was fixed they were left stranded. “Why are you back so soon? Where are the others? And by the gods, what happened to you?”

William’s eyes were wide and his breath came in huffs, sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool weather. Hob half-expected him to say that a wild boar was chasing him.

“A palace… There was a palace, Captain…” William ran a hand through his hair as he panted. “We were scouting the island like you ordered, and we came across a palace. The lord was out in his garden, and he invited us to dine. I hesitated to accept such a sudden offer, and I warned the others of the risks. But they were insistent, and in the end I didn’t stop them from going inside; we’ve had a terrible night dealing with the storm, after all. Still, something didn’t feel right, so I waited outside and kept watch…” He glanced nervously over his shoulder.

“Did the palace get attacked?” Hob asked in concern. He didn’t know anything about the inhabitants of this island, but perhaps the lord had enemies.

William looked back at Hob and shook his head. “There was a burst of light from inside, and I heard what sounded like a commotion. I was about to rush in to help, but I saw Hector running out. He grew a snout, and his screams turned to squeals as he shrunk down and grew a tail…” his hands trembled as he opened his waterskin and drank in large gulps.

There was a rustle behind Hob and he whipped around, a hand gripping the hilt of the sword at his hip.

A raven flew past him and perched on the roof; it seemed to have come from the tree nearby.

Hob let out a breath, forcing his muscles to relax. He would be slow in battle if he were too tense. He continued walking towards the porch, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

He glanced up and saw that the raven was still on the roof. It had a spot of snow-white feathers on its breast, and the rest of it was black as night. Its beady eyes trained on him, and he felt a warning in that gaze that made him stop in his tracks.

“We have to go save them,” Hob told his second-in-command.

“No we don’t!” William said adamantly. “We already lost many of our men in the war and the storm last night. Think about the remaining ones before there are none. Let’s repair our hull as soon as we can and sail far away from this island with the rest of the men and Lady Marzana. You promised her safe passage to her home island, did you not? How will you do that if you are lost here?”

“I can’t abandon our men, William,” Hob said somberly. He could still hear the screams of the soldiers as the waves of the storm took them; they called out for him but he couldn’t do anything. He will not lose any more “You don’t have to go with me, and if I’m not back by dawn tomorrow, prepare to sail away with the others.”

“We are no match against the power of a sorcerer; you don’t have to go either, Captain!”

“I have to try.”

Hob lifted his chin defiantly at the raven. He will not leave this place without first speaking to its lord.

The raven flapped its wings and flew further behind the palace, outside Hob’s line of sight.

Hob walked to the steps of the porch and ascended, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.

There was a rustle, and a figure stepped out from behind one of the shelves, looking down at a book in his hands.

Hob stopped as his breath caught in his throat, all fear momentarily wiped from his mind as he took in the vision before him.

The man wore a silk robe that seemed woven from the night sky, its fabric catching the sunlight in such a way that it looked like stars were dancing across it. A cape draped over his shoulders and flowed down to his ankles, clasped at the chest with a crimson ruby. His skin was incredibly fair and yet it did not look pale as to be sickly, but rather as if the moon were lighting him up from within. Pitch-black hair grew untamed on his head, and Hob had the fleeting thought of wondering if it was as soft as it looked.

Brilliant blue eyes glanced up and aimed right at Hob.

“Lord of the palace?” Hob blurted out, if only to stall the sorcerer from attacking.

Those eyes narrowed at him and Hob felt the instinct to reach for his sword, but reminded himself not to do so lest he be seen as an attacker.

He was fortunate that Lady Marzana had been on their ship. She had overheard Hob's conversation with William, and warned him not to appear aggressive.

“What a noble heart you have, Sir Gadling.”

Hob stopped on his way into the forest and turned to face his unexpected companion. “Lady Marzana. I had thought you in the tent that the men had assembled.”

“I could not help but overhear your disagreement with William. Surely you do not intend to barge in the sorcerer's gates and demand your soldiers back?”

“Not barge in, no. Though I'm hoping that he would not be averse to a negotiation of sorts. There must be a compromise we could reach.”

Lady Marzana smiled but it did not reach her eyes. “Unfortunately, the sorcerer Morpheus does not share your inclination to see the good in everyone. You must be prepared.”

Hob frowned. “You know his name?”

He realised that he knew very little about Lady Marzana. She appeared before them after they won the war, as one of the healers in the island, then asked for safe passage aboard their ship to the island of Mercuria. Hob agreed as a show of thanks for her help in tending to their wounded, and it would not be an inconvenience at all because they would pass by that island on their way home to Ithaca.

But now that she revealed knowledge about the sorcerer, Hob remembered the little fortunes they have had since she came aboard their ship. Their nets were almost always bursting with fish after only some time in the ocean; the winds favoured their sails often, and the soldiers weren’t nearly as fatigued as they should be right after a long battle.

“Who are you?” Hob asked cautiously.

“Just a friend who can help you save your men. A foe such as Morpheus is not to be lightly trifled with. If you face him on your own with nothing but your sword, you will be no good to the friends you are attempting to rescue.”

Hob stared at Lady Marzana, gauging to see how much he could trust her. She had never lied to them, and whatever sorcery she did—for Hob was becoming increasingly certain that she was a sorceress herself—only helped and never harmed them. And in the unlikely event that she did intend them harm, there was a far more urgent enemy right now. And his men were waiting for their captain.

Hob sighed. “What do I have to do?”

Lady Marzana seemed relieved at Hob’s acceptance of her help. “I advise you not to consume anything once you reach the palace, as he has the power to enchant food and drink. He wears a ruby that fuels his powers, and he may have only gotten stronger since we saw each other last. Even I do not know what he is truly capable of.”

“Can you cast a spell to shield me from his magic? I know how you helped us on the ship, surely you are powerful, too.”

“Not so against Morpheus,” Lady Marzana shook her head. “Which is also why I cannot go with you. Without his express permission, I cannot cross the threshold of his domain.” She held out her hand over a cluster of plants at the base of a tree; the ground trembled, and a flower floated into her palm, roots and all. “There lies a power within the root of the moly plant which would protect you from the sorcerer’s magic. You must consume it, and you will be granted immunity from his magic for ten minutes.”

“Only ten minutes? If I eat more than one, would I be protected for longer?”

“I’m afraid moly does not work that way, and it might do more harm than good if you consume any more.”

Hob nodded, feeling a little more confident in his plans. He took the plant and carefully held it in his palms. “Thank you, Lady Marzana.”

“Do not thank me, my friend. It is you who would have to face Morpheus,” Lady Marzana smiled gently.

“How do you know so much about him?” Hob wondered aloud.

“He is my brother.”

Now Hob stood in front of the sorcerer, who seemed nowhere near as friendly as his sister. And Hob had no delusions that he would be as helpful as she was.

“And who might you be… soldier?”

Hob swallowed. Morpheus’ voice was not as he had expected, as was everything else about him. For all of Lady Marzana’s warnings, she didn’t say anything about how utterly beautiful the sorcerer was. Not just in appearance, but with the way he carried himself, and how each word fell gracefully from his lips.

Hob had eaten the moly root before entering the gates, and now he seemed to feel its weight in the pit of his stomach, grounding him. Ten minutes. He had to move quickly.

He straightened his posture. “Captain Robert Gadling, my lord. I apologise for the intrusion, but I had been informed that the scouts I had sent to look through the island had wound up at your gates.”

Morpheus tilted his head. It was a subtle motion, but Hob felt gooseflesh all over his arms.

“You must be tired from being on your feet for so long; it is a long way from the beach. Take a seat, you may rest wherever you like. Allow me to bring you some refreshments.” Morpheus closed the book he was holding and placed it on a shelf.

“No,” Hob answered immediately. “No, thank you, my lord. I should prefer to know if any soldiers have passed by here, or if I had been misinformed by my friend.”

Morpheus seemed to glide towards Hob, his footsteps barely making a sound as his cape softly billowed behind him. “There is no longer any need to worry. You are here now.”

They were standing close enough to each other that Hob had to look up to hold Morpheus’ gaze. Perhaps he should have felt alarmed that the sorcerer’s eyes were now black pools with pinpricks of light, but all Hob could think of was how much they looked like the night sky on a cloudless evening.

The ruby pulsing with a red glow on Morpheus’ chest eventually caught Hob’s attention, and he felt waves of warmth on his skin.

The sorcerer was attempting to enchant him.

“Quite right, my lord,” Hob managed to force a casual smile onto his face. “Then perhaps you might have a cup of tea to spare? I should like to wait here in case my soldiers pass by again, if it’s all the same to you.”

Morpheus nodded once. “Of course.” Without looking away from Hob, he waved a hand to the side and a cup floated towards them along with a teapot. “Stay as long as you wish.”

Hob took the cup in his hands, and the teapot floated back to a table in the corner.

The sorcerer's face remained impassive as Hob raised the cup to his lips, feeling the warmth of the drink in the steam that rose from it.

His plan was madness; more likely than not it would get him killed and his soldiers would be trapped as pigs for the rest of their lives. But it was the only plan he had. He must make haste and act upon it before the effects of the moly fully wore off.

Hob flung the tea in the sorcerer's face and smashed the cup on the side of his head.

As Morpheus yelled and stumbled backwards in surprise, Hob grabbed hold of the ruby pendant with one hand and pushed the sorcerer away with the other.

The pendant came off; the ruby hissed and smoked in Hob's hand before its glow disappeared, leaving the stone a dull red.

“Impossible.” Morpheus stared at Hob in bewilderment, tea dripping from his cheekbones and ceramic shards in his hair. “How are you unharmed after touching my ruby?”

“As you can see, my lord, magic has no effect on me,” Hob pocketed the ruby—he wouldn't risk the sorcerer getting hold of it again—and took out what remained of the moly plant. “So you might as well tell me where you took my soldiers.”

Morpheus used his sleeve to wipe the tea from his face, and his slender fingers brushed away the shards in his hair. His eyes fixed on Hob, but they were blue once more. “You are lying. No mortal can acquire the moly plant without dire consequence.”

“Then I must be a sorcerer like you,” Hob grinned. “For I dug this up myself with my bare hands and consumed its roots.”

“My sister gave it to you, did she not?” Morpheus narrowed his eyes in realisation.

Oh well. It was worth a try.

Hob pocketed the flower again and cleared his throat. “Regardless, my lord, you and I are now evenly matched. Without your ruby, you cannot cast your spells. Now release my men and we shall leave this place undisturbed,” he said with confidence that he did not feel. After all, he wasn't certain whether the sorcerer's magic was truly only limited by his possession of the ruby.

Morpheus’ lips twitched into what almost looked like a smirk. “Evenly matched? You presume that I would need magic to get rid of one such as you.”

He reached to his hip and drew a sword from a scabbard that was hidden beneath its folds.

Hob blocked the blade with his own just in time before it would have struck his neck.

Morpheus lunged and Hob sidestepped, the sorcerer's sword cutting through the air right next to his ear.

Hob pushed forward with his attacks, but Morpheus moved like a viper; he darted out of the way with refined footwork and struck back faster than Hob could track him.

Hob could feel himself getting tired. He was a seasoned fighter, but he had not gotten much sleep because of the storm last night and the sorcerer was evidently trained in battle as well.

He decided to go for a gamble, stepping inward and risking a closer reach from his opponent.

He gained a cut on his cheek, but he gritted his teeth and struck at the hilt of Morpheus’ sword, locking and twisting his blade before maneuvering it forcefully to the side.

The sorcerer's sword flew out of his grip and clattered on the marble floor.

Hob pointed the tip of his blade under Morpheus’ chin. “You’ve lost.”

He felt sweat beading on his forehead, his muscles ached from the exertion, but he kept his grip steady on his weapon.

Morpheus stared at him, and it made something twinge in Hob's chest when he saw an unexpected vulnerability in that gaze.

“Do you know what happened the last time we had welcomed soldiers like you in our home?” The sorcerer's voice was quiet, but Hob felt the weight behind the question, and he almost feared the answer. “It was a tragedy for all of us; I myself faced a heavy loss which I will never forget. So tell me, Captain, can you blame me for aiming to protect my subjects at any cost?” His eyes shimmered with unshed tears even as he glared defiantly, and there was something so deeply wrong about seeing such a beautiful creature in anguish.

Hob's hold on his sword wavered for a moment, but he tightened his grip. “I'm sorry to hear of that terrible misfortune, my lord, but you have my word that my soldiers are men of honour, and would never harm any innocents.”

“Your word?” Morpheus’ voice had grown deeper and he took a step forward, not giving notice to the blade pointed at his throat. “And what is that worth, the word of a soldier?”

He kept walking forward, and Hob instinctively pulled the blade back in order to not injure him.

“What can you do, Captain Robert Gadling, in order to prove your good intentions?”

Hob didn't realise he had been backing away until his back hit a wall.

Morpheus looked at him through his long eyelashes, and didn't break eye contact as he slowly pushed Hob's sword to the side and out of the way. The movement caused him to shrug off his black cape, letting it fall to the floor.

Hob’s sword probably went the same way, though he barely felt it drop out of his hand as he tried and failed not to stare at the pale clavicle that the absence of the cape revealed.

“You have given me no reason to bestow you with my trust.” Morpheus leaned closer, his breath warm against Hob's ear. “But perhaps if you stay longer, we could… come to an agreement?” He ducked his head and the tip of his nose brushed Hob's jawline.

Hob's eyes fell close as his mouth dropped open in a shivering exhale.

He had just enough wits about him to sidestep and scramble away. “Lord Morpheus, I only wish to negotiate for the freedom of my men. Tell me your terms, and maybe I might persuade you to—”

“Persuade me?” Morpheus gracefully walked towards him, and Hob was vaguely aware that he wasn’t moving away nearly as fast as he should. “If you must, then, Captain, show me just how knowledgeable you are in the ways of persuasion.”

Morpheus put a hand on Hob’s chest and pushed.

Hob gasped as he fell backwards on soft cushions; he must have backed away towards the mattress without realising it, fool that he was.

Morpheus easily slipped between Hob’s parted knees and loomed over him with a promising smirk, propping himself up on his arms on either side of Hob’s head.

Merciful gods.

“Do not worry,” Morpheus purred as he lightly traced his fingers down the side of Hob’s neck to his chest. “I’ve got you now.”

Hob couldn’t help the soft groan he made as he arched into Morpheus’ touch, his body craving for more. He found himself placing his hands on the sorcerer’s narrow waist, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. How he wished that they had met in more normal circumstances; he would have liked to welcome this beautiful creature into his home…

His home… Ithaca… Robyn…

“I can’t,” he choked out and pushed the sorcerer off of him.

Hob nearly fell off the bed in his haste to stand up. He stumbled a few feet away and closed his eyes, digging the heels of his palms against his eyelids and taking a deep breath to get himself in order.

“My son is waiting for me back home,” his voice cracked with emotion. He put his hands on his hips and took another steadying breath. He knew it was unwise to keep his back turned on an enemy, but keeping the sorcerer in his sight didn’t do him any good either. “It has been five years since we lost his mother to sickness, I’m all he has. And I have been away at war for more than a year…” He could feel the fatigue and emotion well up in his chest, as if all that time away from home and his son were finally catching up to him.

He turned to face the sorcerer once more and did the only thing he could think of that might give him a chance.

He went down on one knee and bowed. “I beg of you, Lord Morpheus, let me and my soldiers go back home. Grant us mercy and we shall never disturb your island again.”

There was silence for a few heartbeats, and Hob held his breath, expecting to be struck down at any moment.

“Father?” a young man’s voice made Hob look up. “Jessamy said she heard sounds of battle.” He stood in the entryway and looked in concern at the sorcerer, and then cast a wary glance at Hob as he walked in. “Who is this man?”

Morpheus was still looking at Hob, an expression of contemplation on his face. “He was just leaving.” He turned to the young man. “Release the prisoners, and give them the potion to recover. Head to the beach where their ship is stranded. Bring Merv and immediately start on repairs.”

The lad looked like he had more questions, but in the end he just nodded and left the way he came.

“On your feet, Captain.” Morpheus took his cape from the floor and draped it once more across his shoulders. “It’s a long walk to the beach.”

“Wait, you’re helping us?” Hob furrowed his eyebrows as he stood up.

Morpheus sighed as if in resignation. “Yes. Now come along.” He headed for the gates without waiting to see if Hob was following.

Hob’s mind was still catching up to everything that had just happened, but he retrieved his sword and quickly went to walk alongside the sorcerer.

“You expect me to just trust you, after everything?” Hob raised an eyebrow.

“I do not.” Morpheus kept his gaze forward as they walked out of the gates. “I am merely taking you up on your offer to leave my home undisturbed.”

“Why are we going ahead of my soldiers? Can’t we wait for them?”

“Your soldiers would trust me even less after what I did to them. Orpheus has a far more trustworthy disposition. He will lead them back to your ship.”

“Orpheus…” Hob recalled the young lad’s blue eyes and raven hair. “Your son?”

“Yes.”

Things began to make sense; now Hob understood what could have convinced the sorcerer to let them go. It eased his worries a little to know that the help he was getting might be genuine.

“All right. Then, why are you here with me? I know the way back to the beach.” Hob didn’t bother to hide the suspicion in his voice

“I’m here because I’m interested.”

Hob’s eyes widened and his traitorous heart skipped in his chest. “In me?”

“In your experience.”

Hob almost managed to convince himself that he didn’t feel disappointed.

“You said that you are all that your son has. Why leave him to go to war?”

“Ah. I had to.” Hob stared in the distance, remembering that day he had to say goodbye. His tearful son had embraced him and Hob dearly prayed that it wouldn't be the last time. “A neighbouring kingdom was threatening to invade us, and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let my little Robyn grow up under invaders. As king, it was my responsibility to lead the army myself.”

Morpheus looked at him in mild surprise. “You are their king?”

Hob chuckled. “Why, do I not look kingly enough for you, my lord?”

Morpheus gave him a curious gaze. “I have known kings who are content to let others die in their battles.”

Hob grimaced; it was always unpleasant to be reminded of his ancestors. “I’ve known them, too. Never did like them. But anyway, the war is won now. And it’s time I make it up to Robyn. He needs a father.”

Morpheus only hummed in acknowledgement. It would probably be wiser to be quiet the rest of the way. No reason to draw more attention from this dangerous sorcerer.

Only, Hob never claimed to be wise. And he always knew he was too curious for his own good.

“Orpheus. Where is his mother? Is she all right with him leading a group of armed soldiers across your island?” Hob recalled how his own mother fussed over him before he left for war.

Morpheus stiffened beside him, and for a moment Hob wondered if he had gone too far.

“She was killed. While protecting our son.”

Hob felt a sense of dread and he suddenly remembered what Morpheus had said when Hob’s sword was at his throat.

“Do you know what happened the last time we had welcomed soldiers like you in our home? It was a tragedy for all of us; I myself faced a heavy loss which I will never forget.”

“Five years ago.” Morpheus’ voice broke through Hob’s thoughts. “The sickness that took your wife was most likely the same one that brought scarcity throughout the kingdoms. Men were too sick to farm, to trade. And resources were dwindling. Soldiers came to this island under the pretence of friendship, then they turned around and betrayed us.” He recalled the events in a distant tone, as if they were things that happened to someone else. “I was not powerful enough then. They were taking whatever they could find, including people to be made slaves. I was shackled, and could do nothing as they took Orpheus as well. Calliope, she… She fought them. And she was killed in front of our son. In front of me.”

There was a silence that Hob didn’t dare break. He felt sick to his stomach. It broke him when Eleanor died, and she had gone peacefully in her sleep. He didn’t know what it would have done to him if she had been killed so tragically in front of him and Robyn.

Morpheus continued in a quieter voice. “I do not recall what happened next. Orpheus tells me that I gave a cry of anguish, and a bright light burst forth. When it dissipated, the soldiers were dead. I vowed then to never let that happen to my people again. To my son.”

The silence grew heavier; no sound could be heard apart from the leaves crunching underneath their footsteps. After a while, Hob managed to find the words.

“Your son, Orpheus. He’s worried about you.”

Morpheus turned to him with a frown. “What?”

“Have you ever talked to him, about your grief?”

“What my son needs is a strong father. I will not burden him.” Morpheus sounded offended.

��Isn’t being shut out by a loved one a burden in itself?” Hob pointed out. “He wishes to care for you as you do for him. You can let him in and still protect him.”

Morpheus’ frown deepened, but it looked more like confusion now. “And this is relevant to you? Why should you care about my relationship with my son?”

Hob shrugged. “Maybe I’m worried about you, too.”

Bewilderment appeared on the sorcerer's fair face. “I tried to kill you.”

“And I’ve killed many soldiers to protect my son. I’ve got no high horse to look down from.”

Morpheus stared at him with an expression that Hob couldn’t quite read. And before he could ask, a voice interrupted them.

“Captain!” William jogged over to them, several yards away from the beach where they could see repairs being done on the ship. “So it’s true, what Lady Marzana said. The sorcerer is our ally now?” He frowned at Morpheus.

“For the time being,” Morpheus said evenly.

“He is, Will,” Hob said. “He would help repair our ship if we promise to leave the island in peace.”

“You couldn’t just say that to us when we first arrived at your palace?” William was still frowning at Morpheus. “I knew my friends were fools to eat at your table.”

“Not you, though. I heard you talk to them, Will. Convincing them to leave. You were smart enough to see through my tricks, and clever enough to call for aid.” Morpheus’ blue eyes regarded William, and the latter seemed caught off-guard.

“I– Of course I was!” William said defensively, though Hob noticed that his face had gone red. And not from anger. “You couldn’t have gotten me to stay even if you tried.”

“Is that so?”

“Will,” Hob cut in. “Go help with the repairs. And make sure everyone gets enough rest and food before we sail.”

“Yes, Captain,” William nodded before going back to the ship.

“Do you talk like that to everyone?” Hob asked Morpheus, who just stared blankly at him.

“Like what?”

Like you’re trying to charm their pants off. Hob shook his head to clear it. Why was he even letting it affect him? “Never mind. Your sister’s tent is nearby, I can take you to her if you want.”

Morpheus nodded. “Lead the way, Captain Gadling.”

“Hob,” he said without thinking. ”If you’re going to call him Will, might as well call me Hob.”

“What?” Morpheus frowned in confusion.

Hob wanted to thwack himself on the head. Gods, but he was so gone for this man. “Uh, Hob. It’s what my friends call me,” he tried for a casual tone as they continued walking.

Morpheus tilted his head curiously. “And you see me as your friend?”

“I’d rather that than my enemy. We’re here,” he gestured to the tent ahead.

Just then, a figure walked out of it and beamed at them. “I thought I heard voices.” Lady Marzana approached. “Brother.”

“Sister.” Morpheus spoke with a mild hint of exasperation.

“I see you’ve met my friend Hob.”

“If he really is your friend then why send him to me? You knew I could have harmed him.”

“But I wanted to believe you wouldn’t. And I am pleased to see I was right.” Her eyes were twinkling as she looked at the two of them. “It is good to see you again, brother.”

Morpheus sighed. “And I you, sister. Despite your penchant for meddling with my life.”

“It always works out in the end, doesn't it?” She glanced at Hob and winked at Morpheus. “Anyway, I heard my nephew's voice. Is he here?”

“He is down at the ship, helping Merv with repairs.”

“Oh lovely! I shall go see him.” She made her way to the beach where they could hear the voices of men conversing.

Morpheus turned to Hob. “How do you know my sister?”

“She was a great help in healing my men after the war. So when she requested passage to Mercuria, we welcomed her to our ship. Though we didn't know she was a sorceress then.”

There it was again, the curious look from Morpheus. “You let a stranger onto your ship with no questions asked?”

“Like I said, she helped heal my men. It seemed only fair to help her in return.”

“A man who talks of fairness right after a war,” Morpheus mused. “You are too trusting, Robert Gadling.”

“Worked out in the end, though, right?” Hob winked, grinning as he repeated Lady Marzana's words.

A smile lifted the corners of Morpheus’ mouth; it was barely noticeable, but even his eyes were alight with mirth, and to Hob it looked like the sun coming out.

There was a loud snap from above, and Hob looked up to see a beehive attached to a broken branch falling right on his head.

Before he could react, a red glow surrounded the beehive, stopping it mere inches from his face.

Hob stared at it with wide eyes, frozen in place. The beehive slowly lifted, and Hob looked to see Morpheus with his hand out, his eyes black as the night sky and dotted with stars. He guided the beehive back into the forest where it disappeared into a thicket of trees far away from them.

“Last night’s storm must have weakened the branches. You must be cautious.” Morpheus’ eyes returned to their blue hue.

Hob gaped at him. “I thought you couldn't do magic without your ruby.”

“Yes. So it is fortunate that I have it now.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the red gem.

Hob looked down and patted his pockets, emptying them to see that he only had the moly plant and nothing else. “How…?” he looked at Morpheus.

“I took it back when you were on my bed.” Morpheus put the ruby back in his sleeve.

Hob’s mind suddenly recalled just what happened on that bed, and the sounds he had made at the barest touch from Morpheus. “Ah.” He cleared his throat and hoped the heat on his face wasn’t noticeable. “Wait, if you had that on you this whole time… You could have killed me.” Hob felt a chill down his spine. It was like being told that an arrow had almost hit him in the neck and he had no idea.

Morpheus arched a perfectly shaped brow. “Did you want me to?”

Hob stared at Morpheus with his mouth open, then he laughed, a proper one that made his shoulders shake. He couldn't help it. The relief of surviving the storm, successfully freeing his men, and now the certainty that he was right to trust this sorcerer. Morpheus. Who loved his son as much as Hob loved his own. Who would go to great lengths to keep his people safe, much like Hob did when he decided to sail off to war.

“Was that a joke, my lord?” Hob said in mock disbelief. “I didn't think you were capable of making one.”

“Crude.” Morpheus’ tone was affronted, but his lips held a smile.

A cheer rose up in the distance where the ship was docked, and they heard the sound of waves as the ship must have been pushed back into the water.

“Orpheus and Marzana do put a livelier spin on things whenever they are together,” Morpheus said fondly, looking in the direction of the sound. He turned to Hob. “It seems like your ship is repaired. Your soldiers would be waiting for you now.”

For the first time since sailing away, Hob felt some hesitation in going back home. He still wanted to, of course, but now… Maybe he could allow himself to want other things, too.

Hob stepped closer to Morpheus. “Can I… I mean, will I be able to… visit, here? Whenever? You're not going to magically make the island invisible after we leave?” He tried to laugh to make light of the question, but it sounded nervous to his own ears.

Morpheus raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You wish to come back?”

Hob nodded and fidgeted with his earlobe. “I do.”

“Why?”

“I'm interested?” Hob tried for a charming smile.

Morpheus shook his head lightly in what Hob dared to believe was a gesture of fondness. “I would not conceal the island. You will find this place again if you wish.”

“All right. Good.” Hob shifted on his feet, stepping closer. “Are you sure you don't want to come with me to the ship?” He nodded to the beach.

“Quite sure. Even if Marzana has convinced your soldiers that I am not an enemy, it would be best if you are not seen with me. You cannot risk losing their trust.”

“Right.” Hob said, but somehow he still couldn't get his feet to move. It somehow didn't feel right to just leave.

Morpheus didn't make a move to leave yet either. And for a moment they just stared at each other.

“What you said about Orpheus… About not shutting him out. I will keep it in mind.”

Hob smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. You…” You deserve to be cared for, even if you don’t realise it. “You take care, Lord Morpheus.”

“And you as well, Your Highness,” Morpheus nodded politely. “Leaders deserve their rest after times of adversity. No one should have to put up a facade of strength all of the time.”

“Even you?” Hob teased.

“Even you. Hob.” Morpheus spoke sincerely, looking right into his eyes.

Hob’s breath caught in his throat. That soft, deep voice curled around his name as if it were something precious. It was a breath of a syllable, and yet Hob felt drawn to it. A moth to a flame.

They were standing so close to each other, and Hob felt his mouth go dry. He instinctively licked his lips, and he noticed Morpheus’ eyes unmistakably track the movement.

Morpheus swallowed, a subtle thing, but Hob was already staring. His gaze lingered on the pale throat, traced up to rose-pink lips, to piercing blue eyes, imprinting each detail in his mind.

Morpheus’ face drew closer, and Hob’s heart was drumming so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t even tell who was leaning in. Maybe it was both of them. Maybe it didn’t matter. What mattered was Morpheus wasn’t pulling away, that they were so close they shared the same air.

Hob looked into the sorcerer’s eyes and saw an uncertainty he had never seen in them before. Morpheus knew what he wanted, but he was waiting, unsure whether Hob wanted the same thing.

Hob decided to remedy that.

He crossed the gap, holding the back of Morpheus’ neck as he pressed their lips together. Morpheus inhaled sharply in surprise, but then Hob felt hands on the small of his back, pulling him closer.

The glide of their lips against each other was soft, sweeter than Hob could have imagined. There was a split-second of irrational worry in the back of his mind; he had never kissed a man before, and he was afraid to be found lacking.

But then Morpheus’ tongue was tracing his bottom lip, and all thoughts fled him. He reached out with his own tongue and heard himself groan as Morpheus met him eagerly.

Hob could not on pain of death tell how much time had passed. It felt like he had always been here, exploring the heat of Morpheus’ mouth, clutching at his midnight hair. After everything he had done as king, as captain, Hob felt that he deserved such indulgence, heedless of how it might slowly be driving him mad. Morpheus held him close, returning the kiss with equal fervour, his arms strong and sure around Hob.

When they parted, they were both flushed and out of breath. The sight of Morpheus—with his cheeks red and his enraptured eyes focused entirely on Hob—was something Hob knew he would never forget even if he tried. And he certainly wasn’t going to.

“I…” Hob finally remembered how to speak. “I’ll come back, after—”

Morpheus put a finger to Hob’s lips. “No promises, Hob Gadling,” he said softly, before releasing Hob’s lips to caress his cheek. “We have this moment, now, and that is enough. I am… glad. To have met you.”

Hob leaned his forehead against Morpheus’ own, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath. “Me too, Morpheus. Me too.”

They finally pulled away from each other, then Hob grabbed Morpheus’ face with both hands and kissed him again, only for a moment, but it was firm and adoring. He took a moment to look at Morpheus’ face, now soft with mild surprise as opposed to the cold stoic one he had first seen.

Hob smiled, nodded, and turned away to quickly head to his ship. He was afraid that if he stayed a second longer, he would find more reasons not to leave.

***

Hob stood at the stern of the ship as they sailed away, watching the island get farther and farther. Behind him, he could hear William shout orders, could hear the soldiers’ footsteps as they manned the sails and secured the rigging. But all of it seemed so distant, as far away as the stars that were beginning to come out.

“Feeling alright, Captain?” Lady Marzana walked up beside him.

Hob smiled politely, but he could feel that it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, my lady. I just need a bit of rest, that’s all.”

Lady Marzana nodded and followed Hob’s gaze on the island. “I hope my brother did not give you too much trouble.”

“No more than I gave him,” Hob said easily, the smile on his lips now genuine. He had a suspicion that it would always be the case, him grinning like a fool at the mere mention of Morpheus.

The look that Lady Marzana gave him was both intrigued and knowing, and Hob averted his gaze as he felt his face warm.

“Ah, I see.” Lady Marzana chuckled. “It’s good to see that you two got along quite well. Meanwhile, I shall get some rest myself. Captain,” she tipped her head politely.

Hob returned the gesture, and he was left alone once more.

With the winds favouring their sails, the island was now only a small speck of green in the distance. As he watched it get even smaller, Hob made a promise to himself.

What they shared on that island might have been enough for Morpheus, but not for Hob. With the stars as his witness, he will return to Morpheus. And if the gods were merciful, Morpheus would want him still.

He looked up at the sky and felt himself smile, taking a deep breath of the refreshing ocean breeze. Robyn was waiting for him back home. Morpheus—though Hob dared not hope too much that he was waiting—was on an island not too far away. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt excited.

Mornings of laughter with his rambunctious child, warm evenings with his beautiful sorcerer. Some might say that his fantasies were far too banal for a king to have, but Hob didn’t need anything else.

With such a future ahead of him, there was so much to look forward to.

And so much to live for.

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Notes:

This is the result of two of my hyperfixations combining in my brain. I hope you liked it!

Here are the songs from The Circe Saga that I based this fic on:

Puppeteer

Wouldn't You Like

Done For

There Are Other Ways

Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! <3

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(Dreamling Week 2024 Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

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