A/N
Drakena, thank you so much for your review! I've been so busy I completely forgot I still had to upload the final chapters! I won't post them all in one go (editing) so if I take too long, please don't hesitate to remind me. Real life is catching up to me!
Hope had been nervous about the gathering the entire day. Mostly because she had no idea what to expect. Or how to react. And by the time she went to bed, and opened her eyes in the Dreaming, she half expected the previous night to be nothing but a fanciful dream.
Until their eyes met and her legs suddenly seemed to turn into water; she flowed towards him.
It turned out there had been no need for anxiety after all. Their gathering proved to be marvellous. Morpheus had created an ambience that exuded joy, happiness and everything that was amazing and beautiful.
From the jubilant performances by song birds, the soft cheerful rays of the sun that bathed everything and everyone in a golden glow, the softest of breezes that played and mussed with hair and caressed exposed ski, and the delicious smell it carried of sweet apples, plump cherries and fragrant blossoms, to the abundance of refreshments available… Morpheus had clearly left nothing to chance.
And apart from a few shared longing glances, casual accidental touches, finding ways to linger in each other's company, Hope was pretty sure that nothing between her and Morpheus seemed too much out of the ordinary. Though there was a rather dicey moment she'd been talking with both Dee and Lucienne and she just happened to intercept such a heated look directed at her, it threatened to singe her hair right down to her scalp. And she knew Dee and Lucienne had noticed the stinging heat that blossomed in her face, throat, even her chest!
She'd quickly asked Lucienne what songs she was hoping to hear. To her shame, she caught nothing of her friend's reply.
Thank God, she was rescued by the awful sound produced by Hob's Stradivarius that Morpheus had been kind enough to recreate for his friend in the Dreaming.
"I'm pretty sure that sounds nothing like my beloved Strad," Hob told Morpheus wryly, eliciting a chuckle here and there. Even Morpheus appeared to be on the verge of smiling.
Mervyn was complaining loudly that neither Hob nor Hope had any taste in real music, as he put it. He kept requesting songs like: The Thong Song, You Can't Touch This, I'm too Sexy and Gettin' Jiggy Wit It'.
Matthew pecked at his pumpkin head with each more ridiculous request. For a while this resulted in the strangest most hilarious bitch slap fight that Hope had ever seen.
When they had enough of the bickering, Hob kicked things off with her request for Erlkönig, earning her a mock-glare.
Again, the Schubert piece was played to perfection. Morpheus had even plucked an entire orchestra out of someone's dream to give extra pomp to the performance.
"I admit I'm rather excited for the Palladio." Lucienne was aglow with a beaming smile. "I believe you and Hob are to play it together?"
The three of them stood beneath the shielding branches of a blossoming apple tree where they found privacy for their conversations while still being able, in Hope's case, to slyly cast glances towards where Hob and Morpheus stood together. Right in the open, in the middle of Fiddler's Green.
Hope gave her friend and affirmative nod and a quick smile. "Yes, we've been practising the piece. Though we are both playing Stradivarius violins, each instrument has its own distinctive voice. His sounds deeper, a bit warmer, masculine. Mine, I mean, Morpheus' violin sounds brighter, bit more lyrical… very feminine. It was already a joy to practice it with my own Mittenwald, but, here… now? With the dream violin?"
"I'll prepare myself for any orgasmic looks recklessly thrown my way." Dee looked positively devious saying that. Poor Lucienne nearly choked on a sip of red Barolo wine.
"I can't help it," Hope retorted. "Music is simply the next best thing to sex. Or in lieu of it."
"Oh my!" Lucienne fanned her flaming cheeks with a hand. "Any particular song that evokes such feelings or looks?"
"Kashmir," both Dee and Hope said at the same time.
"Also Beethoven's 7th," Hope admitted. "There's just something about playing those pieces. I get completely lost into the music and… I surrender, I guess."
"And then some!" Dee raised her glass of wine in total agreement.
Whether it was just a fluke of 'nature' or Fiddler's Green perhaps feeling a little embarrassed by the intimate nature of the conversation, suddenly a handful of blossoms released from their nests and floated down.
"You've seen it for yourself, Lady Death?" Lucienne brushed a few blossoms away while lifting an inquisitive gaze at Dee.
"I have. And I admit, it was really awkward at first as I didn't know what it meant. There was a time I was trying very hard to come up with a way to let her down gently. To tell her I love her, just not in a romantic way. And then she put down the violin and said, 'If only Jack could make me feel like that when he's playing me, things would be peachy keen.'"
Oh God! She had to mention that awkward friends-with-benefits affair!
Again, Lucienne nearly choked on a sip of wine and more blossoms promptly fell from their branches while Hope mumbled, "I did not say peachy keen!"
"I may have added that bit for amusement. It's a fun thing to say!"
"Is it very strange if I admit I'm curious about it right now?"
If Lucienne was tipsy enough to admit that, it meant she was well on her way to being three sheets to the wind before the evening was over. Hope wished she was a sheet and a half there already herself. Alas, she had to keep her wits about so she wouldn't make a fool of herself when playing.
When they both felt the time was right, Hob and Hope created a moment of magic when they played Palladio together. Their violins becoming a question and a reply in music. There was a warmth shining in his eyes that made her a cheeks heat up. And she knew, on a deep instinctive level, had things been different, she might have easily fallen in love with him. Very easily.
But, things were different, and if she could turn back the hands of time, she would now gladly swallow her pride and accept the boon Dee had tried to offer her.
After Palladio, they both played a few more songs together, and, to her surprise, Hope noticed more and more dreams quietly gathering a good distance away, their eyes firmly fixed in their direction. This made the both of them chuckle, especially since Dee and Morpheus were now standing together and did not appear to notice. Lucienne did however and they could see her slowly make her way over to them, with the grace and finesse of a newborn giraffe. The sight of that had them soon reduced to childish giggles.
On the other side of the clearing, Death stood right next to Dream. She was enjoying a rare quality Pinot Grigio.
"She certainly appears to be in high spirits," she said, casually, while giving her brother a studying look. "Might that have anything to do with a… particular visit she received from someone, last night?"
Honestly, if those two bloody idiots still had failed to admit their true feelings for one another, she was of a good mind to hold them both captive until things were resolved… and Hope was ready to accept immortality!
Time had pretty much run out!
She gave her brother's profile a studying look, trying to discern his secrets from the set of his jaw. His features were as beloved as they were familiar. And yet, there was a poignant difference in them. Before Hope, Death might have been able to carve out his exact image from marble, with no softness to his face–not in the set of his mouth, or the burn of his gaze, or the severe angles of his jaw. The marble would have captured his austere and inarguable beauty in a most captivating way, but now… everything about him appeared to soften, just a fraction, whenever his gaze fell on her friend.
"Well, are you going to keep me in suspense for much longer? How did it go?"
Her brother, who'd fixed his gaze on Hope again, turned his head to look at her and what she saw made her want to belt out a 'Hallelujah!', for his lips held the most tender smile she'd ever seen on him.
"It went well, my sister."
She chuckled at his succinctness and giddy relief flooded her being.
"Then all I have to do now is agree to never take her. So, here it is. I will not come for Hope, unless she desires me take her with me, of course."
He smiled.
Her statement seemed to have loosened him for she could see him relax his shoulders, just a little, but enough for her to know a burden had been lifted there.
Hob, just then, launched into a lively solo. Paganini if she was not mistaken. Ah, yes. The Carnival of Venice! Lovely song!
Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was knowing that Hope was going to be just fine. But, suddenly it felt as though her spirit had been lifted up and twirled. Lively music and a bit of wonderful news was very close to perfect happiness.
Though Hope's death-date curiously still shimmered in her mind–which was the very next day!–Death was glad it was one appointment she did not have to make.
Hob's excellent playing was interrupted only by Lucienne's unsteady steps as she approached, a hint of intoxication lingering around her.
Death observed the librarian's dishevelled state, recognising the signs of worry she could no longer conceal and the solace she sought in alcohol. Lucienne's eyes darted at her and their eyes briefly met. Death saw flickering in them the mixture of anxiety and fleeting hope, before she lowered her gaze, narrowing in on the glass of wine trembling in the other's hand.
Deciding it was time to end her misery, Death lifted her own hand, raising her glass in a toast. "Relax, Lucienne. This is a party, not a funeral."
"Is it?" she asked, so carefully that Dream, still standing right beside her, regarded her with a penetrating gaze.
"It is," was all she said. He did not have to know how close he'd come to losing Hope.
Though, of course, she would have offered her best friend immortality again at the appointed time of collecting, Death knew Hope still would have declined. Well, she thought so at least.
And she was immensely grateful it was no longer important; she'd never have to find out.
"Oh! Hur-rah!" Lucienne cried out in obvious relief. "Here I was, thinking I had to drink myself into a stupor to–" She stopped, seeing Dream looking at her. "Never mind that, I need to refill my glass. We have some celebrating to do!"
She stumbled away on unsteady feet and quickly caught Hope, who'd been on their way over to them from the looks of it, in a spontaneous hug.
Though Death couldn't hear what Lucienne mumbled to her friend, Hope met her stare and gave her a bewildered look.
Lucienne soon released her and Hope continued her short journey towards them.
A gaze exchanged between her brother and her friend and there passed an infinitesimal moment during which they looked at each other as if they were the only two in the Dreaming.
A lovely flush slowly became visible the closer she got.
"Hello," she finally greeted, just a bit breathlessly, when she joined them.
"Hello," Dream said back and he effortlessly stepped to her side.
Death noticed his hand swiftly disappear behind her back. They were standing so close, she was certain Dream hoped that no one had noticed him reaching out. And she wondered, was he holding her hand in his now? Was he caressing her lean fingers with his?
The blush on her cheeks that deepened in colour said enough.
"So, what's with Lucienne?" Hope asked quickly. She looked to be all nerves. A slight jerking movement of her arm was stopped. Death smiled when Hope gave her brother a pleading look. A battle for the ownership of her hand, it would seem. Her brother won, if the wicked gleam in his eyes was anything to go by, and, though she couldn't see what happened behind their backs, it was enough to make her friend shiver.
"Oh, nothing much," Death said, as if she had not noticed the exchange between her brother and friend at all. "She just had some really good new. Really, really good news."
"Oh," was all Hope said. Then. "Oh!"
Dream smiled at that.
Again there was that little jerking motion and her brother gave her a very gratifying look that seemed to tell her he would never let go of her again. Death was pleased, because, if he ever was foolish enough to let her go, she would be there to kick his ass back in line.
When the music stopped, she looked up and saw Hob walking over to them. Somewhere behind them Lucienne could be seen talking to Mervyn. Whatever they were talking about, Mervyn did not seem to agree. He appeared to be very agitated and when he furiously pointed at the sky, Death bit back a chuckle when she understood. Clearly Mervyn was brought up to speed in regards to his master's updated relationship status, and he was not happy about it.
"Eh, did I miss something scandalous?" Hob asked when he joined them.
Death didn't think Dream would want to tell him just yet. Not when things had only just been settled and he clearly wanted to be alone with Hope. He didn't need to know that certain members in his staff already knew, courtesy to Lucienne's loose-lipped, more than a little inebriated tales.
"Uh-uh," Hope said, and this time she gave her brother an impatient look when she tried to reclaim her hand. And arm. "I would very much like to play now. What I will be playing will be very dependant on what you do in the next three seconds. Three–"
Dream instantly released her, a thoroughly unconvincing look of innocence on his face.
Hope narrowed her eyes at him, then she turned with a huff and stalked away.
Death bit back a grin. One thing was for sure, Hope would always keep her little brother on his toes. Something, she suspected, would do him some real good!
"I think I did miss something," Hob murmured.
This time she did laugh.
She liked Hob, a lot, but he seemed a little incognisant to what was going on around him, because there had been an undeniable magnetism between her brother and Hope, a dance of desires that begged to be explored.
In fact, she wouldn't be surprised at all if their sibling, Desire, was prowling about somewhere. Well, as long as they left the love-birds alone, Death didn't care. And they'd better heed her last warning.
Hope had no idea she even knew about the Derek fiasco. But what kind of friend would she have been, back when she'd just decided she really did want to be Hope's friend, if she hadn't investigated the reason for said friend's sudden heartbreak?
Oh, Desire had found it so funny! How he'd managed to persuade Hope in a moment of weakness. And Derek too.
Death had been less amused. She'd warned them there was no hiding from her. A stone-cold reminder that, in the end, she would come for them too. So far, at least where Hope had been concerned, they'd behaved.
When Hope had taken up her violin again and positioned herself, the orchestra started to fill the air with a delicate melody, the strings harmonising in a symphony of emotion.
Death stood beside Dream, leaning into him a little, enjoying the song.
Soon the notes of a song she remembered well began to weave their way through the air, captivating anyone nearby who listened. More than one dream huddled next to another, to share the experience.
Hope, her violin poised against her shoulder, closed her eyes in surrender to the music when she jumped in. With each stroke of the bow, her fingertips caressed the strings, bringing forth a raw and heartfelt rendition.
"Oh, wow!" Hob muttered softly, standing on Dream's other side. "That is brilliant!"
Death could tell Dream had no idea what the song was about.
She could feel the weight of the song, its bittersweet nuances swirling around her, and she wished Dream knew what Hope was trying to tell him, because it was… beautiful.
And then Hob softly started to sing along. "Thank you for loving me."
She could feel Dream grow rigid in shock, right next to her. His Adam's apple anxiously bobbed up and down again. Her eyes glanced at him, and in that fleeting moment, she sensed the subtle shift in his demeanour. His usually composed facade cracked ever so slightly, a glistening in his eyes betraying the emotions that welled up within him. Figuring he could use a little emotional support, she looped her arm around his and hugged it against her. It was a silent acknowledgement she understood the impact the song was having on him, a gesture that spoke volumes without a word spoken.
As Hope's bow glided across the strings, her violin sang with an intensity that clearly touched the very core of everyone present. Death spotted many a dream quickly dashing away an errant tear. Even the usually stoic Lucienne kept dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief while she swayed to the music together with a pretty looking dream with wings.
Hob, completely obvious to what was happening right next to him, softly continued to sing along. Had he looked just a bit to the left, he might have seen his old friend slowly being moved to tears.
"I never knew I had a dream," he softly sang, "until that dream was you. When I look into your eyes, the sky's a different blue."
Now Dream trembled a little and Death rested her head against his arm.
"Cross my heart, I wear no disguise…"
"Sh-sh!" someone nearby hushed him. Death was very surprised to see it was Cain. Cain of all dreams! Hob gave an abashed look and stopped his sing-along. Which was a shame because she wanted her little brother to know what the song meant.
"Thank you for loving me," she softly sang. She gazed up at him and gave him a knowing smile. "For being my eyes, when I couldn't see."
Emboldened by her, Hob joined in again, "For parting my lips, when I couldn't breathe. Thank you for loving me."
Well, at least her brother now knew what the song was about.
As the song reached its crescendo, Hope's violin soared with an exquisite blend of tenderness and strength. Each note carried a heartfelt expression of gratitude… and love.
Death, her whole being stirred by the sheer beauty of the performance, let her gaze rest on Hope. The vulnerability she exuded as her violin whispered the final notes of the song was heart-warming and moving. And she couldn't be happier, knowing that two people she loved so dearly, were on the brink of finding something amazingly beautiful. Together. And she couldn't think of any two others who deserved it more.
When the last note faded into silence, a weighted hush descended on Fiddler's Green. Then a thunderous applause erupted that might had travelled through Dream's entire realm. Death released her grip on his arm when she too joined in the applause.
"Sister, would you mind overly much if I… skipped the pleasantries?"
Poor Dream, his voice sounded frayed, completely unravelling in fact, but she understood.
"Of course not," she told him softly. "Come on Hob," she told her brother's friend. "I think this dream is over."
Confused, Hope looked around her and noticed that everyone else was gone. An eerie hush settled over Fiddler's Green. The sky had turned an inky indigo and stars winked to life. Soft, determined footsteps came closer.
Turning around, she saw a familiar figure walking up to her and this time Hope was not able to prevent her knees from knocking together.
When he was right in front of her, again casually invading her personal space, Morpheus wordlessly extended his hand to her.
The assurance she could feel radiating off of him was overwhelming.
The stars in his eyes sparked and she knew their brightness would consume her.
She took his hand.
There was a rush that felt like a gentle breeze, and when she closed her eyes, she could feel all of nature's laws falling away.
"Will you not look at me, Hope?"
And she shivered, because she did not hear his voice, but she felt it, whispering in the back of her mind like smoke.
Swallowing back a small lump of trepidation–for she knew what was to transpire between them–she opened her eyes.
They were both suspended in empty space, gently drifting towards each other, unbothered by physics. It was dark, yet not dark. Thousands of stars winked at them in the distance. And it was cold, yet not cold. It was safe and dangerous at the same time. For a moment, or maybe an eternity, they simply locked eyes and stared, drifting aimlessly in what might very well have been the beginning of time itself.
What does he see? she wondered while seeing the stars softly blazing in his eyes.
He drifted closer and, though she detected no wind, no breeze, his hair moved as if the gentlest of breezes mussed with it. He lifted a hand and stroked down the curve of her cheek with a single fingertip. When he reached her chin she saw his lower lip drop a bit; he gently tipped her head back in an angle of surrender.
A tiny breath escaped her, right before his mouth descended to hers and landed as gently as a butterfly. His lips were warm upon hers, like wet satin, and they moulded, coaxed… persuaded, until she parted her lips, opening to him, pressing upward. She could feel reality spinning around her when she felt the tip of his tongue stroking the edge of her teeth, then gently venturing farther, until he caressed the inside of her mouth in a delicate exploration. Very unlike their earlier kiss of clawing hunger.
She shivered at the sensation.
To steady herself she slid her hands over his shoulders in a desperate bid for balance and she could feel her fingers sinking right through the fabric of his coat as it dissolved into the ether. Her hands slid to his upper arms and she gripped him there, where the swell of sinewy muscle was manifest through his shirt.
She nearly laughed at the stray thought how incredible it was that Dream of the Endless, Lord Morpheus, liked to dress himself in black jeans and a grey or black shirt.
The kiss intensified gradually and he became bolder and more ardent with his touches.
A possessive caress along her spine and she could feel her coat dissolving away from her as well. She went a bit rigid until he made a soothing noise and ran his hands down her back.
Sliding her hands into his silken hair, she curved her fingers around his scalp, beneath crisp locks that gleamed like black silk in the fragmented starlight.
A harsh breath escaped him and she could sense the hunger he kept so tightly reined in.
Vaguely she sensed his mouth pulling away from her, briefly, to then brush against the sensitive area underneath her ear. And she sighed, closing her eyes, tilting her head to give him better access as his mouth travelled down again, down to a sensitive hidden place right beneath her jaw. Everywhere his lips touched, her skin came alive and the lightest flick of his tongue fired mercury missives to every region in her body, down to the furthest reaches.
He gently nipped and her eyes flew open. She found him looking down at her, an unasked question burning in his eyes. In answer she pulled him to her again.
It was an incredibly surreal sensation, that under the gentle touch of exploring fingers, fabric melted away. When she slid her hands over his chest, she first felt his shirt and, right after, the smooth cool texture of his skin. And when his fingers skimmed over her stomach, she first felt his touch through the silk of her blouse, and then she could feel them glide over her with that barrier now gone. A muscle in her stomach jumped at the sudden sensation.
His lips were exploring her neck and then he slowly travelled down. When his breath landed hot on the fabric of her bra, she stiffened in his arms again. Again he soothed her and then she felt his lips hot and moist, searching, licking, gently sucking.
She gasped, all thought threatening to scatter away and in a bit of a panic, she grabbed at him, trying to steady herself, pressing herself closer.
Apparently she'd grabbed his hips, or his ass or whatever region that was previously covered by his pants, because they were suddenly missing. He recognised her hesitant touch for what it was, and a humoured chuckle rumbled from is throat against her skin.
And then he was naked.
And she was too.
If she had felt any embarrassment at all, it was short-lived because the way he looked at her did not allow for that sentiment.
A bit in awe Hope splayed a hand against the marble expanse of his chest. He was all skin and sinewy muscle, stretched over bone, unmarred by marks, scars or any other imperfection.
When she looked up at him again, his guards pulling away, she saw that every wound he'd suffered in his billions of years, he carried them in his eyes. And it broke her a little.
She moved him beneath her with a mere, gentle touch. He looked up at her through heavy-lidded eyes that shuttered when she leaned down.
His hand lifted as in an attempt to touch her, but she placed a gentle kiss at the base of his throat, and it fell backward in a surrender of his own.
And it was the most beautiful thing, to see that powerful hand slowly falling back.
She placed kisses against his skin and spread her fingers, amazed when a simple touch like that made his breath catch. Sliding her hands lower, she watched as the taut muscles of his abdomen jumped reflexively. She leaned down and tenderly brushed her parted lips over his and he instantly reciprocated in reply, drawing her tongue into his mouth, one hand cradling the back of her head as he crushed his lips against hers and rolled her over, burying his other hand where she most wanted him to touch her, and where she most feared it too.
The pleasure was unlike anything she'd ever experienced and she couldn't prevent a shuddering gasp at the strange sensation. He touched her in a way she more sensed than really felt and she might have cried out a little when he pressed in.
"Stay with me," he implored her at the same time music started pulling at her mind, but his request pulled her right back, and she closed her eyes against the wondering expression in his as much as against all she was feeling, all she'd never felt before. It was sweet and it was torture and it was consuming her, as she had known it would. Somewhere in the distant reaches of whatever sense she had left, she understood there was a very good reason why a mortal should not mingle with an Endless. They simply were not able to weather such an onslaught and remain unaltered by it.
She also knew she simply didn't care.
Another sharp pull from her mind and she could hear the notes of 'Por Una Cabeza' drifting closer and for a moment all she knew was playing the seductive melody of that song.
"Come back to me."
An order so absolute, it overrode her mind, and when she raised her lashes to look up at him, his eyes burned into hers and she felt it then… how he moved inside of her, and she cried out at the raw, unexpected feeling. He hovered over her on strong arms and she grasped him, amazed at the extraordinary sensation of being so joined like this with him.
The star lit universe was less dark as billions more stars winked into existence and started falling while they made love to the tune of the entire universe.
The cords of his neck went taut and she lifted her head to place a kiss there.
In reply he drove deep and picked up the pace and Hope revelled, for the first time, in the complete sensation of what making love was really like. A familiar tension was slowly building and Morpheus levelled out to a steady rhythm, withdrawing, then driving deeply. The muscles of his arms all trembling from coursing need. She wrapped her legs around him, locked them about his back, to pull him closer.
Somewhere in the distance, light swirled around a glowing point, with shafts of light erupting up and down to the rhythm of their mingled breaths that turned to low groans of pleasure as release came upon both of them. His eyes became brilliant and intent and inwardly focused; he was lost to her in his own pleasure. And as a glorious light behind him erupted with the force of a star being born, Hope closed her eyes when she felt the familiar rush over her body, like burning embers falling softly. She gasped open-mouthed at the urgent pressure of her release which came from everywhere in her body at once, roaring toward escape like a molten river of hot lava. She arched against him and her eyes flew open as she cried out his name, and shattered into bliss,
Only a breath later Morpheus thrashed his head back on a low groan, a look of near pain on his face, his eyes sparking with the first light of a new star as he came, his release racking him almost brutally.
Then a different light broke, pearly and grey in the sky, the light of a new dawn breaking, and he lowered himself over her carefully, gently, like one killed. She held on to him, and he to her, until their breathing steadied.