Author's note: The characters, with the exception of Drusilla (who is mine) belong to Neil Gaiman. Just because her name is Drusilla and is a vampire doesn't mean this is a Sandman/Buffy crossover. I don't watch that show anyway. But I love The Sandman and I love Neil Gaiman's work. This is my first attempt at a fanfic, but not my first story ever written, so I hope it is up to my usual standard. I'm not sure I'm all that good at capturing Thessaly's voice, but I did try to capture her aloofness.
I do plan to continue this, but I'm fairly busy and when may be a while from now. I've had this character floating in my mind, and the idea if, what if one of Dream's past lovers tried to get together with his current aspect...
---
"All around me darkness gathers,
Fading is the sun that shone;
We must speak of other matters:
You can be me when I'm gone."
~Neil Gaiman
---
PROLOGUE
"Have you ever thought of returning?" I asked hesitantly. I turned toward the pile of books I was checking in, avoiding her direct stare.
Thessaly was expressionless, as usual. "What reason would I have to return? He is dead, you realize. Besides, he and I are over. I have had little enough room in my life for men."
I concentrated on my stack. "Well the new incarnation, the former Daniel, is still him, so to speak. And considering he's changed aspects, perhaps he's changed in other ways too." I finished my thought, unsatisfied, feeling like I was head-ramming a wall. Thessaly tends to make me feel that way at times.
"The Endless don't change," she asserted with a sigh. "Besides, I have no interest in rekindling old flames. That part of my career is done with, this time for good, and I shall not miss it." She grabbed my finished pile from me and went off to put the books away.
"Damn. I'm sorry I brought it up," I murmured into my coffee as I took a sip. I felt the warm liquid seep down my throat, hit my stomach, and dissipate. I don't know why I still drink it; it disappears from my system as soon as it enters, since I no longer require the normal mortal nourishment. I suppose I enjoy the old sensations and tastes.
Nostalgia. That's what it was, and that's what this is really about, after all. Nostalgia, memories of the days I spent in the Dream King's realm, in his castle, in his arms and in his bed. In other situations I would dismiss these feelings, knowing that I can't relive the past. Not only do the Endless not change, men don't change, especially men like Morpheus. But he isn't really Morpheus anymore; he's a "new man," literally.
He's not the only one. I am a new woman, really. When Dream first found me, I was little more than a frightened fledgling living in the alleyways, sleeping in abandoned dumpsters by day. And here I am now, a night librarian at a university with a centuries-old witch. The library is beautiful: huge airy ceilings, skylights (the place would be a deathtrap for me by day), light woodwork, modern and comfortable. Sometimes I imagine that I am in Lucien's library again, though that library is very different, yet strangely familiar, as though it is a composite of every library ever known to man, as well as any ever dreamed.
Thessaly returned to the table, nudging me from my reverie. "Why all the questions? Are you thinking about returning?"
I hemmed and hawed, trying to avoid answering. It was embarrassing, really, for a fledgling such as me trying to explain my silly mortal emotions to a centuries-older-and-wiser witch. A real witch, not one of these New Age crystal-worshipers. She power that I could see, could practically smell, now that my transformation has enhanced my previous extra-sensory senses. It clung to her like patchouli on my hippie roommate. She could hide it behind the innocent, young student and part-time librarian facade, but not from me.
"Well?"
"Um... maybe." I shrugged, smiling. Thessaly's eyebrows furrowed above her huge wire-rimmed glasses. She looked like an annoyed owl, those huge disks of glass covering the good majority of her face. She looked like the quintessential librarian
"Well I hate to see you setting yourself up for yet another fall. He has a tendency to emotionally scar his ex-lovers, and not to repeat tired sayings, but, 'fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me,'" Thessaly said casually, pouring some hot water from the kettle on the hot-plate into her teacup.
"I miss him," I muttered.
"Beg your pardon?"
"I miss him," I repeated, louder, feeling my face grow hotter and, I imagined, rosier.
"Hrmph," Thess replied, going about her business. I shuffled some papers and hoped that the whole thing would blow over.
I couldn't resist one last zinger, "You do know he took no other lovers after you?"
I could sense Thess stiffening, but she did not reply. Instead, she asked a question of her own, "You seem mortal, by all reckoning, but since the Endless cannot have romances with mortals..."
"I'm a vampire," I replied.
"That would explain the flush in your cheeks. You have recently fed?" I was shocked at how analytically calm Thessaly sounded.
"Hey, a girl's gotta have dinner," I shrugged, trying to look as casual as she did. "I trust you know enough about my kind to not have to explain everything?"
"Of course," she replied coolly. "I knew what you were, I just wanted confirmation. The mere fact that you never eat and only work the night shift, with me, practically gave it away. That and the blood drying in the corners of your mouth."
I wiped my mouth with a napkin, a bit ashamed of myself for being so careless. Then came her zinger, and of course it was worse than mine:
"Why did he leave you?"
"What makes you think I didn't leave him? There hasn't been a lover of his yet who didn't leave him. He goes back to his work. He is so... male! They chase and chase and chase, then when they have you, they're satisfied and the effort is gone! They think they don't have to try anymore!" I slammed my hand down on the desk. It felt good to vent, especially to someone who would understand.
To my surprise, I saw a spark of empathy in the witch's normally cool gaze. She nodded, "I know. You told me, you confronted him, he begged for another chance---" at this I laughed. I couldn't help myself, to think of Morpheus begging for anything. "---okay, he requested another chance, which you gave him..."
And he fucked up again, I thought.
"But," Thessaly continued, as though she read my mind, "you didn't confront him. Not yet. You wanted a bit of... what do they call it in this day and age? Palimony, of a sort? So one night, during a bit of passionate lovemaking---"
"I bit him. I-I tried to drink his blood," I admitted, covering my eyes with my hand. "I did drink his blood. Only a little bit, but it was enough. I don't know why. For power, for life-essence, to make myself more desirable to him, to steal a bit of him so he wouldn't dare let me go. I-I don't know."
I looked through my fingers at Thessaly. She stood before me, impassively, pensively. I could not read her gaze. I closed my fingers over my eyes again. "I loved him. Surely you understand that. I wanted a part of him, something that he never really gave any of us. All he gave us was surface. He never let us truly have him.
"And yes, he cast me out. He wasn't really as angry as he seemed, but I had violated him. But--but I-I think that he knows that he did wrong."
"Foolish child," Thessaly whispered.
"You loved him too, admit it!" I cried.
"No. I reflected his love for me, like the moon reflects the light of the sun. It seemed to glow as brightly as his own, or at least a compliment to it. But it was not really love." She turned away and began cataloguing volumes.
"You lying bitch!" I screamed. Thessaly whirled, her face perfectly calm, but with a dangerous fire in her eyes. I knew I was treading shaky ground, but I couldn't turn back now. I had released a fount within me and it would not be stopped.
"You let him die. You could have stopped that madwoman, that Hippolyta Hall. You protected her, you let him die, and you dared to shed tears at his wake! You dared!" I yelled. "The Kindly Ones never would have found out, never would have cared."
"I did as I was bound," Thess shrugged, a little too casually. Her shoulders shook, imperceptibly to all but my keen sight. "And, Drusilla, I didn't get this far in life by being nice to people. Nor have you, I take it, judging from the bloodstains on your lips. Besides, as you said, he is not really dead, is he? And possibly is changed for the better. So go and visit if you like, he's all yours... if he is anyone's at all."
"Maybe I will," I muttered, still angry with her, and with myself.
"Keep in mind that he hasn't had much time to adjust-- or readjust -- to his duties. Dragging up the past may not help."
It sure didn't help me just now, did it? I thought. The sun was a half-hour away from rising, just long enough for me to get to my little hole of an apartment and sleep the day away. If I was going to do this, I would be doing it soon. Thess barely noticed my exit; she had a few hours left in her shift. I grabbed my leather coat and left, hands thrust into my pockets, scowling at the few night-owl students who went past. The comfort of my bed, and my dreams, awaited me. And maybe, just maybe, my old love.
TO BE CONTINUED
I do plan to continue this, but I'm fairly busy and when may be a while from now. I've had this character floating in my mind, and the idea if, what if one of Dream's past lovers tried to get together with his current aspect...
---
"All around me darkness gathers,
Fading is the sun that shone;
We must speak of other matters:
You can be me when I'm gone."
~Neil Gaiman
---
PROLOGUE
"Have you ever thought of returning?" I asked hesitantly. I turned toward the pile of books I was checking in, avoiding her direct stare.
Thessaly was expressionless, as usual. "What reason would I have to return? He is dead, you realize. Besides, he and I are over. I have had little enough room in my life for men."
I concentrated on my stack. "Well the new incarnation, the former Daniel, is still him, so to speak. And considering he's changed aspects, perhaps he's changed in other ways too." I finished my thought, unsatisfied, feeling like I was head-ramming a wall. Thessaly tends to make me feel that way at times.
"The Endless don't change," she asserted with a sigh. "Besides, I have no interest in rekindling old flames. That part of my career is done with, this time for good, and I shall not miss it." She grabbed my finished pile from me and went off to put the books away.
"Damn. I'm sorry I brought it up," I murmured into my coffee as I took a sip. I felt the warm liquid seep down my throat, hit my stomach, and dissipate. I don't know why I still drink it; it disappears from my system as soon as it enters, since I no longer require the normal mortal nourishment. I suppose I enjoy the old sensations and tastes.
Nostalgia. That's what it was, and that's what this is really about, after all. Nostalgia, memories of the days I spent in the Dream King's realm, in his castle, in his arms and in his bed. In other situations I would dismiss these feelings, knowing that I can't relive the past. Not only do the Endless not change, men don't change, especially men like Morpheus. But he isn't really Morpheus anymore; he's a "new man," literally.
He's not the only one. I am a new woman, really. When Dream first found me, I was little more than a frightened fledgling living in the alleyways, sleeping in abandoned dumpsters by day. And here I am now, a night librarian at a university with a centuries-old witch. The library is beautiful: huge airy ceilings, skylights (the place would be a deathtrap for me by day), light woodwork, modern and comfortable. Sometimes I imagine that I am in Lucien's library again, though that library is very different, yet strangely familiar, as though it is a composite of every library ever known to man, as well as any ever dreamed.
Thessaly returned to the table, nudging me from my reverie. "Why all the questions? Are you thinking about returning?"
I hemmed and hawed, trying to avoid answering. It was embarrassing, really, for a fledgling such as me trying to explain my silly mortal emotions to a centuries-older-and-wiser witch. A real witch, not one of these New Age crystal-worshipers. She power that I could see, could practically smell, now that my transformation has enhanced my previous extra-sensory senses. It clung to her like patchouli on my hippie roommate. She could hide it behind the innocent, young student and part-time librarian facade, but not from me.
"Well?"
"Um... maybe." I shrugged, smiling. Thessaly's eyebrows furrowed above her huge wire-rimmed glasses. She looked like an annoyed owl, those huge disks of glass covering the good majority of her face. She looked like the quintessential librarian
"Well I hate to see you setting yourself up for yet another fall. He has a tendency to emotionally scar his ex-lovers, and not to repeat tired sayings, but, 'fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me,'" Thessaly said casually, pouring some hot water from the kettle on the hot-plate into her teacup.
"I miss him," I muttered.
"Beg your pardon?"
"I miss him," I repeated, louder, feeling my face grow hotter and, I imagined, rosier.
"Hrmph," Thess replied, going about her business. I shuffled some papers and hoped that the whole thing would blow over.
I couldn't resist one last zinger, "You do know he took no other lovers after you?"
I could sense Thess stiffening, but she did not reply. Instead, she asked a question of her own, "You seem mortal, by all reckoning, but since the Endless cannot have romances with mortals..."
"I'm a vampire," I replied.
"That would explain the flush in your cheeks. You have recently fed?" I was shocked at how analytically calm Thessaly sounded.
"Hey, a girl's gotta have dinner," I shrugged, trying to look as casual as she did. "I trust you know enough about my kind to not have to explain everything?"
"Of course," she replied coolly. "I knew what you were, I just wanted confirmation. The mere fact that you never eat and only work the night shift, with me, practically gave it away. That and the blood drying in the corners of your mouth."
I wiped my mouth with a napkin, a bit ashamed of myself for being so careless. Then came her zinger, and of course it was worse than mine:
"Why did he leave you?"
"What makes you think I didn't leave him? There hasn't been a lover of his yet who didn't leave him. He goes back to his work. He is so... male! They chase and chase and chase, then when they have you, they're satisfied and the effort is gone! They think they don't have to try anymore!" I slammed my hand down on the desk. It felt good to vent, especially to someone who would understand.
To my surprise, I saw a spark of empathy in the witch's normally cool gaze. She nodded, "I know. You told me, you confronted him, he begged for another chance---" at this I laughed. I couldn't help myself, to think of Morpheus begging for anything. "---okay, he requested another chance, which you gave him..."
And he fucked up again, I thought.
"But," Thessaly continued, as though she read my mind, "you didn't confront him. Not yet. You wanted a bit of... what do they call it in this day and age? Palimony, of a sort? So one night, during a bit of passionate lovemaking---"
"I bit him. I-I tried to drink his blood," I admitted, covering my eyes with my hand. "I did drink his blood. Only a little bit, but it was enough. I don't know why. For power, for life-essence, to make myself more desirable to him, to steal a bit of him so he wouldn't dare let me go. I-I don't know."
I looked through my fingers at Thessaly. She stood before me, impassively, pensively. I could not read her gaze. I closed my fingers over my eyes again. "I loved him. Surely you understand that. I wanted a part of him, something that he never really gave any of us. All he gave us was surface. He never let us truly have him.
"And yes, he cast me out. He wasn't really as angry as he seemed, but I had violated him. But--but I-I think that he knows that he did wrong."
"Foolish child," Thessaly whispered.
"You loved him too, admit it!" I cried.
"No. I reflected his love for me, like the moon reflects the light of the sun. It seemed to glow as brightly as his own, or at least a compliment to it. But it was not really love." She turned away and began cataloguing volumes.
"You lying bitch!" I screamed. Thessaly whirled, her face perfectly calm, but with a dangerous fire in her eyes. I knew I was treading shaky ground, but I couldn't turn back now. I had released a fount within me and it would not be stopped.
"You let him die. You could have stopped that madwoman, that Hippolyta Hall. You protected her, you let him die, and you dared to shed tears at his wake! You dared!" I yelled. "The Kindly Ones never would have found out, never would have cared."
"I did as I was bound," Thess shrugged, a little too casually. Her shoulders shook, imperceptibly to all but my keen sight. "And, Drusilla, I didn't get this far in life by being nice to people. Nor have you, I take it, judging from the bloodstains on your lips. Besides, as you said, he is not really dead, is he? And possibly is changed for the better. So go and visit if you like, he's all yours... if he is anyone's at all."
"Maybe I will," I muttered, still angry with her, and with myself.
"Keep in mind that he hasn't had much time to adjust-- or readjust -- to his duties. Dragging up the past may not help."
It sure didn't help me just now, did it? I thought. The sun was a half-hour away from rising, just long enough for me to get to my little hole of an apartment and sleep the day away. If I was going to do this, I would be doing it soon. Thess barely noticed my exit; she had a few hours left in her shift. I grabbed my leather coat and left, hands thrust into my pockets, scowling at the few night-owl students who went past. The comfort of my bed, and my dreams, awaited me. And maybe, just maybe, my old love.
TO BE CONTINUED