Disclaimer: I don't own Sandman or any of the characters therein (or from the One Thousand and One Nights, for that matter).

The Storyteller Queen

Once upon a time, the Lord of Dreams was standing on the balcony of his palace, watching over the Dreaming, when he saw a weeping woman sitting on a riverbank. She had wavy hair, as black as ebony, and dark eyes like the sky at midnight. She was dressed in rich robes of silk and wore a golden crown on her head, but she looked as desperate as the poorest beggar on earth. Despite this, she maintained a regal bearing, and something within the Dreamlord's heart stirred. Perhaps he was remembering the queen Nada, whom he had once loved, and then lost through his own pride. For whatever reason, he came down from the high towers of his palace and, disguised as a man of her own nation, approached the woman who sat by the river.

"Hello, good lady," he said. "May I ask your name?"

The woman looked up, and once again Morpheus was struck by the beauty and dignity she claimed even in her distress. "I am called Scheherazade," she replied. "And I am not merely a lady, but the daughter of the King's vizier."

"And what troubles you so?"

Scheherazade lowered her head and sighed. "The King of my land was betrayed by his Queen, who threw herself into the arms of his brother. Imagine, to be betrayed by the two people closest to you in all the world! Is it any wonder that he has now been possessed by madness? Because of the Queen's act, he mistrusts all women. He marries a woman one night and has her executed the next morning, only to marry another woman immediately after. He has killed three thousand of my country's young women in this way, and the people are all in mourning. I wish there was something that I could do, but I can find no solution, for he is the King and no one may challenge his orders."

"And what would you do, if you could?"

"Our King sees treachery everywhere, even where there is none. I would teach him to trust again, for that would repair his soul and also save our people."

The Lord of Dreams considered for a moment, and then he smiled. "Perhaps I can help you, my lady Scheherazade." He caught her gaze, and she saw that there were stars in the depths of his eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked in a small voice.

Morpheus let his disguise fall away, and stood before her with his helmet on his head, his ruby around his neck, and his pouch in his hand. "I am His Darkness, Lord Dream of the Endless. This place you are in now is part of my realm, the land of dreams."

Scheherazade trembled and bowed her head. "It is a beautiful land, my lord Dream. But, you spoke before of helping me. If you could do that, my gratitude would know no bounds."

"In theory, it is simple. You must marry the King, and convince him to keep you alive long enough to see that you are honorable and trustworthy. For if he can bring himself to trust even a single person, his soul will be healed and your people saved."

"But how can I do that, my lord Dream?"

"Your father used to tell you stories when you were a little girl, did he not?"

Despite her sadness and worry, she mustered a smile. "Yes, he did. Every night before I went to sleep he would tell me a story. But he would never finish the story in a single night-he would always end it right before something exciting was about to happen. And when I asked, 'What happened next?' he would reply, 'I will tell you tomorrow night.'"

Morpheus nodded. "And that is exactly what you must do for the King. On your wedding night, after you have consummated your marriage, you must begin to tell him a story. And when the first rays of the morning sun peek through your window, you must stop. And when he asks, 'What happened next?' you must answer, 'I will tell you tomorrow night.' He will think to himself, 'It will cost me nothing to wait a single day before executing her,' and let you live for another day. And so you will continue the story night after night, until, eventually, he finds himself falling in love with you. When that happens, his soul will be mended and your people saved."

Scheherazade was silent for a few moments, for she was wise and knew that it is best to think before one speaks. "There is merit in your idea, but what stories should I tell? The ones my father told me were meant for children, and are the only stories I know."

"Lady Scheherazade, I am the Prince of Stories. I can tell you everything you need to know."

And so it came to pass that the Lady Scheherazade married the King. During each night, she told him stories that captivated his mind and heart, and while she slept during the day, she sat on the riverbank with the Lord of Dreams as he related to her the story that she would tell on the next night. This continued for one thousand and one nights, whereupon the King discovered, as Morpheus had predicted, that he had fallen in love with her. In this manner, the King's soul was healed and Scheherazade's people were saved. On the one thousand and second night, Scheherazade found herself on the riverbank again, but this time she was alone. Far off in the distance, she saw a magnificent palace that glittered like a precious jewel. Inclining her head towards it, she whispered, "Thank you, Lord of Dreams."

On his balcony, the Dreamlord saw all the care and anxiety smoothed away from Scheherazade's face, and he smiled.

And everyone lived happily ever after.

A/N: It occurred to me recently that the story of Scheherazade would have made a perfect installment in the Sandman series, seeing as how it's a story about stories and all. I used a bit of a different writing style from my usual in this one-hopefully it worked well.

I feel like this should be a crossover of some sort, but doesn't seem to have a category for the Thousand and One Nights.