Chapter Text
It was impossible; he should not have been imprisoned so easily – in his own realm.
But Dream stared at his cell, the bars won’t bend, the walls remained steadfast and firm and no matter how much he tried he could not will himself out of it. He was trapped. He had barely reached for his tools: his ruby and sand before they threw him into the loneliest corner of the dreaming. Far from the heart of his realm to be forgotten like yesterday’s refuse.
He stared at the sigils he had carved into his walls. He had not wanted to do this but as soon as he heard the first screams, he knew he had to beg for help. By right he should have been untouchable, a master of his domain but these gods, so old and coming from the Void – the home of his mother ensnared him thoroughly. They knew his weakness, they knew the magic that would bind him and so he was bound.
Was this a punishment from Mother Night? For leaving her realm and entering into the universe as all of the Endless were ordained to govern over? He remembered how she had shouted and yelled even as Destiny tried to placate her. He had not seen her so angry not even when Time and Night first separated and she took them all to hide in the Void.
His hand brush over Destiny’s sigil and so he called.
“Brother, I am not in my gallery and this is but a carving but I touch your sigil and I call upon you for aid.” He rasped, forcing down whatever power he could into this summons. It should not scare him just how draining it felt.
For a moment he heard nothing but silence and then Destiny appears, like a faded shade, “Brother, I hear your call but I cannot aid you,”
Despair flooded him, “Destiny, my subjects are suffering and my realm is in chaos, I beseech you to aid me. I humble myself before you.”
“The usurpers of your realm have broken no laws and have bound you in accordance to the laws we agreed upon. I am bound to obey and cannot aid you.” His brother answered back, each word pierced his existence as he heard it. Yet he knew; he knew Destiny would not aid him, not in this but he had hoped…
“Destiny, please, I am your brother –” he added, trying to mask how his voice wanted to crack.
“I cannot aid you, not in this. Forgive me, brother.” And then he was gone.
More screams echoed in his cell and it was all Dream could do not to join them. Destiny may not help him but he has other siblings. So he steeled himself and brushed his hand upon Death’s sigil.
One by one they refused – Death coldly warned Dream that they were not to interfere in each other’s realm, Destruction and Despair echoed sympathies but could not offer any aid. As Despair’s voice faded away, Dream stared at the last two sigils. He turned away from Desire’s and placed his hand upon Delight’s sigil – he had not wanted to and he knew Delight was not the sort to involve in combat but he was desperate.
He could feel each of his peoples, dreams, nightmares and denizens of his realms crying out for him, praying and begging for his help.
He thinks of them and summons Delight.
Except it wasn’t her; Dream watched as Delight -? Appeared but she looked…different, no…she was different.
“Delight…?”
The being that was once Delight spun on her feet, her eyes change colours and she had a wild expression on her face – not joyful giddiness but something deeper, something...unsettling.
“Hm…hello Dream…Dream – Duh – REAM, you’re stuck and that’s new.” Her voice floated, sing-song and he could see it melt.
“Sorry, I can’t help you – ” her eyes suddenly settled on one colour, “I am changing.”
Changing? “What do you mean, changing?”
Her eyes changed again, green and blue, brown and red, and her form morphed as if undecided, “I drank the void, from this poor mortal but she’s not mortal, not anymore, mother made sure of that. She was so lost, so - so I drank it all and now…now I am changing.”
Dream wanted to ask what she had meant, why she felt…strange but Delight twirled and vanished from his cell.
He stared at the empty place where his sister had been – what happened to her? She felt…different, odd, strange. And she was changing? What did that meant? Did it have something to do with him being imprisoned? Also, what did she meant by a mortal? A mortal and their mother? That could not be, Night did not care for the lives of the beings outside the void, it mattered not to her if they lived or died; they were never her concern.
Another piercing scream and Dream decided this was one mystery he would handle once he was freed. With great reluctance, he turned to Desire’s sigil.
Killala’s face came into his mind, her and Sto-Oa kissing each other as he watched. Then Desire, the one sibling he thought was his closest, his best friend, laughing as they recount how Sto-Oa and Killala were in each other’s embrace and finding Dream’s anguish funny.
He had not spoken to them since.
His finger traced the heart he had carved and he tried to remember that he was not the only one hurting, his subjects need him and if he had to beg Desire’s help? So be it.
“I do not stand in my gallery, but I touch your sigil, sibling.” He said, swallowing his bitterness, trying to remove Killala’s expression his mind.
Desire flickered into his cell, their face frowning as they stared at around his cell.
“Well, what kind of trouble are you in now?” they asked – as if Killala never happened, as if they had not betrayed him in the worst kind of way. As if he was at fault for being imprisoned!
Dream said, quietly, “I have lost my realm. I need to get it back.”
“Whyever in the world would I help you?” His sibling scoffed.
“We are siblings. I plead for assistance,” he responded before adding, “I am humble.”
And he was, Desire was his last hope, his other siblings were rule bound and he knew Desire tended to do whatever they please, looking for loopholes to exploit, flaws to bend to their will. It was why he had loved them, enjoyed their company above the others.
In another timeline Desire would have been asked first without hesitation.
For a moment said sibling pondered upon Dream’s predicament before sighing, “Oh, my foolish brother, I am Desire,” they said, emphasizing on their name. For a horrifying moment Dream thought that that was it, he was on his own; all his siblings had forsaken him and he felt Despair’s cold embrace around his very being.
Instead Desire shook their head and stared down on him.
“I cannot send you an army,” they continued, “but I can send you a lover.”
A lover? No! The last thing he needed was a lover, and he said so angrily, “I do not want a lover.”
“I can make you one,” the continued, ignoring the glare at their way. Desire lets out a laugh, “Oh, poor brother, you are too shadowy, too dark and broody. I shall send you someone to lighten things up.”
“I want my kingdom. I do not want to lighten –”
“Good luck. Don’t hurt her,” Desire added and before Dream could make them stop, drop this foolishness, Desire vanished with a wink. Dream barely had enough time to call them out when his cell was filled with light.
She was beautiful, her whole being glowed with light and such power. Even for an Endless like Dream, he could feel the strength in her very being, the force of her might as she came into existence.
“Hello,” oh, her voice, her voice was so sweet, like a babbling brook and the angels singing in the air.
She tilted her head, eyeing him inquisitively, “What are you called?”
“I am…I am Dream.” He said, unable to look away.
“Is this a dream?”
“Yes, this is a dream.”
She hummed quietly, “Nice to meet you Dream. I need a name, by the way…can you give me a name?”
There’s power in a name.
Dream thinks of the many names he knew, but many felt inadequate in face of this creature. She waited patiently as he thought and thought, before finally he chooses:
“I will call you Alianora.” Of light, of purity, of constancy.
The smile she gave him would have blinded him if he were any other being. She knelt down to him, her fingers brushing his hand.
“And so I am named but you are bound here. Although surely reality here is what you wish it to be?” she noted.
“…there are rules…” he said sheepishly – rules that he would have to find a way to remove once he gained back his kingdom.
Alianora hummed, “Oh, if you’re going to worry about rules –”
Whatever Alianora wanted to say was drowned out as loud thunder cracked in his cell. Dream felt Alianora push him behind her as light flooded once more into his cell. Dream could feel the universe tears itself open and then something – someone fell into his prison with a loud thud.
The light dimmed as the air crackled with leftover energy and the two of them stared as the being lying on the floor.
Dream could taste the void lingering around the creature and for a moment he thought it was one of his jailer’s minions, come to torment him but the being – no, woman – groaned as she turned on to lie on her back.
“Fucking Dest – ow –” she winced as she lifted her head. She was dressed oddly and seemed to be wearing a crown of thorns around her head that would not have looked out of place on one of his nightmares.
But she wasn’t a subject of his realm, for no subject of his would have dared look at him in the eye, groan and mutter:
“Fuck me, not you.”