A/N In this chapter there are spoilers for the Sandman volumes 'The Game of You' and 'Overtures'
So, the Erlkönig in this chapter is the rendition by, again, David Garrett. I can't help it, I love him!
The rendition of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik is very specifically the one by Roman Kim because he has inhuman violion skills!
Don't be a stranger, I would love to hear from you!
The skies were a mesmerizing blue, and the air felt pure and refreshing.
"Is this?" A lump in her throat prevented her from speaking further. She knew, without a doubt, who this was, for Fiddler's Green would always be the most kind and grandfatherly person she had ever had the pleasure to meet.
"It is," he said softly, smiling at her. "And he is pleased to see you brought a fiddle with you."
"A fiddle!" She nearly choked on the irreverent address. Shaking her head, she scanned her new surroundings and released a breath of pure contentment. They were surrounded by the lush greens of Fiddler's Green, sheltered by the bountiful branches of his trees in an embrace of sorts that felt intimate and comforting.
In the distance, a waterfall gently cascaded down a rocky plateau into a small creek, and flowers of every imaginable colour speckled the green grass and bloomed on the trees. Even without those lovely blooms, a painter could create an entire palette and call it 'Fiddler's Many Greens,' and include in it moss, forest, sage, basil...
Well, she wasn't a painter so she was making up colour names now, but, being here, seeing the green splendour, she wished she possessed the skills to capture the essence of this place on canvas in her waking hours.
Morpheus guided her deeper into the enchanting splendour that was Fiddler's Green, their steps accompanied by the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle whispers of the wind that seemed to say, "Hello again, my friend."
They continued their journey, the atmosphere serene and tranquil, yet Hope sometimes caught his attention on her and a peculiar silence descended between them, only punctuated by the quiet symphony of nature: birds offering their soft melodies, leaves rustling in gentle agreement, and a nearby brook murmuring secrets only they could hear.
It seemed to Hope they were both somewhat alarmed by their sudden accord. By the fact that they appeared to enjoy a silent companionship. With each other.
A winding path led them to a sunlit clearing, where a soft looking blanket spread on the grass invited them to rest.
In the heart of the clearance, a friendly rivalry unfolded between Hob Gadling, the timeless traveller, and Dee, her best friend, though their voices were filled with warmth and laughter.
Hope couldn't help but smile at the sight.
As they approached, Hob's eyes lit up with mischief. "Ah, here they are!" he exclaimed, his grin widening. Then, his attention turned to Dee. "And look what your friend brought along? I wager you're about to lose ten quid!"
"In your dreams, Hob," Dee playfully retorted, a glint of amusement in her eyes.
"In my dreams? Or perhaps in yours?" Hob teased, his words laced with gentle provocation.
Hope's laughter filled the air, mingling with the serene surroundings, because Hob was flirting with death. Literally and figuratively! With a mischievous twinkle, Dee flicked a grape at Hob, a playful act that narrowly missed its target.
"Oi, watch it!" he exclaimed in feigned seriousness.
He certainly didn't look like someone who had any problems connecting with an Endless.
Hope settled herself gently onto the blanket, cradling the priceless violin in her lap with utmost care. The instrument felt like a treasure nestled in her hands, filling her with a sense of awe and wonder. Now that she knew it was here, she might never want to leave again!
Morpheus positioned himself beside her, his posture deliberate and poised. "If you would allow me, Hope, I'd like to introduce my friend to you. This is Hob Gadling, with whom I share a history that spans countless ages. Hob, this is Hope. You are already well aware of who she is and… what she did."
Hob extended his hand across from her and she accepted it with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity.
"It's lovely to, eh, formally be introduced to you. Pleasure's all mine," Hob greeted her with genuine warmth.
As their hands met, their eyes locked, and in that moment, she found an unspoken understanding in his.
A knowing… that navigating the waters of friendship with the Endless was exhilarating, a reward in itself, but at times also treacherous and certainly not safe.
"Likewise, Hob," Hope replied, offering him an easy smile. "You have the hands of a violinist."
A glimmer of appreciation danced in his eyes. "So do you," he responded, acknowledging the hidden talent that simmered in her grip.
Feeling a touch self-aware, Hope withdrew her hand and discreetly tucked them both beneath the violin. She had always been mindful not to draw attention to her fingers. While they were suited for mastering even the most difficult techniques, she tended to regard them as peculiarly long and sometimes felt a hint of embarrassment about their uniqueness.
Thankfully, Hob was a great conversationalist and very soon they were sharing stories and laughter, their friendship blossoming, aided by the cheerful ambiance.
And while Morpheus kept a watchful eye on the violin, the others indulged in drinks and food, enjoying the simple pleasures of companionship.
Leaning comfortably against a rock, Hob's expression suddenly turned contemplative. He shook his head with a hint of regret and directed his gaze towards Dee. "Sorry, but I can't go through with the wager," he said, glancing at Dee. "I can't do that to her. Wouldn't be fair to compare my eons of experience to her" – He glanced at Hope – "what's your age, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I'm twenty-eight," she replied, adding a touch of defiance to her voice.
Hob chuckled, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Well, luv, that puts me ahead of you by six hundred and seventy years. Quite the head start for practice, don't you think?"
A fair point, he had quite the advantage in terms of time, but how much of it had he actually spent honing his skills? Pushing the boundaries and mastering new techniques?
"True," Hope said, conceding, a subtle challenge in her voice. "But I haven't had the pleasure of hearing you play yet."
Hob raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "You still think you can compare? I came back as my own son! Several times! You know where I resided during one of the periods I couldn't live here? In Cremona!"
Her eyes widened in astonishment. Was he insinuating what she thought he was? Could it be possible?
He nodded, confirming her suspicions. "Ah, I see it's sinking in. Yes, I was an assistant to Antoni Stradivari himself. I even possess one of his masterpieces. And he thought I was quite talented."
"Key-word being was, not he," she muttered under her breath, earning a cough of laughter from Dee.
Morpheus had been relatively quiet for some time, yet seemed to enjoy the banter around him.
"I must warn you, Hob, she's got quite a gift as well," he said. His gaze shifted to Hope. "Although I couldn't help but notice that when you played Beethoven's 5th that one evening, the tempo was considerably slower than the original. Was that for your own sake or for the benefit of the other players?"
"The other players?" Hope echoed, a puzzled expression on her face.
"The members of the ensemble," Morpheus clarified.
Oh. He thought…
OH! He didn't know…!
Hope burst into laughter, unable to contain her amusement. The demanding techniques she had pushed herself to master were her own little secret for now then. And Dee's.
"You know what, if Play Boy here thinks he can– Wait, that came out wrong."
Both Dee and Hob chuckled, and Morpheus ducked his head. Hope had a sneaking suspicion he didn't want anyone to see that even he, Dream of the Endless, was capable of grinning widely.
"It's your funeral, sweetheart," Hob smirked at her while motioning Morpheus to hand over the violin. He rose to his feet, tuned the instrument, and Hope had to repress a groan. The blasted thing, even when tuning, sounded like a dream! No pun intended.
He then requested some bow rosin, and Morpheus plucked some from inside of his coat, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
"For your listening pleasure," Hob said, while tightening and then thoroughly rosining the bow, "I will play 'Der Erlkönig' by Franz Schubert."
This elicited a small gasp from Dee, who sat on Hope's right. "I love Schubert!" her friend confided, leaning into her.
The cocky bastard gave a graceful little bow and began playing.
And, well, she had to admit… He might be a cocky bastard, but he had a very good reason for it. He played masterfully!
Originally, the piece was a song for both voice and piano in which the singer had four roles: narrator, a father, his son, and the Erlkönig, or Elven King. In this particular arrangement, however, Hob played all four roles, plus the role of the piano accompaniment! He was not pulling any punches! He meant business and perhaps intended to show her up? Hope knew it was an intensely difficult piece, that at one point there were two lines of music at a time. It had been a particularly nasty piece to try and conquer, at age twenty.
"Poor Hob," Dee whispered. "Look at him, playing his little heart out, trying so very hard. You're still going to crush him, right?"
"How much of a crushing do you want it to be?"
Dee smiled. "Straight into oblivion."
Morpheus glanced in their direction, a disapproving look on his face. Right. Hob was still playing and he deserved their full attention.
So, she closed her eyes and smiled as she listened to the music. He really was very, very good!
That's why, the moment he finished, sweat glistening on his brow, hands trembling a bit, Hope rose to her feet and gave him a standing ovation. Dee and Morpheus did the same.
He walked over to her and gave her a bashful look. "I do apologise if that was showing off a bit too much. Are we still good?"
"Oh, yeah," she said, beaming up at him, taking the violin from his hands.
She laughed when Dee sat up straight, preparing herself for what was to come.
There was a brief look of understanding between Hob and Morpheus, but it was difficult to determine its meaning.
Feeling a bit self-aware again, Hope walked to the spot where Hob had played and suddenly her nerve left her. She'd always considered Dee as her friend, not just as death, the very counterpart to life. Now she would not just be playing for her friend, but also for a man who'd lived for close to seven hundred years, and for the embodiment of dreams. It was… a bit daunting.
Dee, as if sensing her sudden nervousness, gave her an encouraging smile. "You'll be fine!" she mouthed silently. Hope smiled back and cleared her throat.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't do big entrances. I would like to play 'Eine Kleine Nachtmusik' for you, the first movement, allegro. By Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart."
Two pairs of incredulous eyes looked at her, only Dee hid a knowing smile behind her hand.
"I'm sorry?" Hob asked. "You… you want to play that just above basic, barely in the intermediate range piece of music? After I played The Erlkönig?"
"Eh, yes? Is there a problem?"
"Problem? No, there's no problem, but… are you joshing me?"
She gave a slight shake of her head. "No, I'm not joshing you. Now, can I play?"
Then she caught Hob exchanging an unreadable look with Morpheus and mouthing words.
They looked like: Must we?
Even the Dream King himself gave her a doubtful look.
Oh… It. Was. On!
She took a deep breath and raised the violin to her chin, then began the first couple of notes at a slow tempo, without using any double stops.
And she saw both Hob and Morpheus cringe a little. She bit back a smile.
Okay, time to focus! This was going to be hard!
Hope suddenly switched to full double stops at the exact moment the second violin would create the baseline for the first violin, and played both parts simultaneously. She couldn't resist and she briefly ventured a glance at Hob, now that she still could. The look of cringe slowly morphed to one of confusion, as if he wasn't entirely sure what he was hearing.
When the melody switched to a slighter calmer section, she threw in a few left hand pizzicati, while still doing double stops. She didn't dare look anywhere else but what her fingers and bow-hand were doing, afraid to lose the concentration needed to pull this off. To create the next needed base, she used her left middle finger or, whatever other finger was available.
The complexity of playing multiple string parts at once, not to mention adding phrasing and keeping her bow strokes even, was… astronomical, and she could only achieve it at all by playing the entire piece at a slightly slower tempo.
She'd basically turned Mozart into Paganini.
As she played, she could feel the tension in her body, her muscles straining with the effort to make each note come out right, to make sure the bow didn't bounce off the strings with every left-handed pizz.
She could hear the sound of the strings, the resonance of each note she played and it left her quite drained to be so focussed on finger-placement and bow movement… it was hard to be swept up by the music and emotion.
Technically, it was masterpiece, but when she finished and the last note died, she realised she had not really enjoyed playing the instrument. It's why she loved playing slower, less demanding, more emotional musical pieces more. But, her musical skills had been in doubt and she'd felt it as her duty to correct their opinion.
Her left hand was shaking a bit and she could feel the sting of a cramp setting in. As unlikely as that was. But, perhaps it had to do with the fact that this was more like lucid dreaming than actual dreaming.
She took a deep breath and looked up to see three very different looks directed at her, and it made up for a lot.
Dee looked like she would dissolve into a fit of laughter any moment now.
Hob had THE most comical look of 'No fucking way' on his face, with his brows fused in a frown, his eyes wide and his mouth frozen in a rigid 'Oh!'
And Morpheus, again, gave her a reassessing look. As though all truths he'd known about her had somehow scattered like leaves in an autumn breeze.
They didn't move when she slowly walked up to them and she felt a little awkward with the instrument and bow still in her hands, quivering lightly.
"Too much flexing?" she asked when the silence became a bit uncomfortable.
"You know," Hob said, glancing at Dee, "I actually met him, Mozart, when I was visiting Salzburg. I was inspecting property there that I, eh, inherited from my father." He waggled his brows. "And I can just imagine him say, 'I don't remember composing this piece for just one violin'. Are you sure she didn't cheat? I mean, this is a dream of sorts, am I right?"
"I'm standing right here, Hob. You know I can hear you."
"Oh yes, but I'm still deciding whether I think you cheated or not. A few of those hand positions were... not human."
Gently, Morpheus took the instrument and bow from her hands and stored them inside of his coat. Hope, cupping her left hand in her right one to soothe the cramps, was oddly reminded of Mary Poppins' carpet bag.
"You are presently in the heart of the Dreaming," he said, looking at Hob, "and yes, what you're experiencing right now could, technically, be construed as a dream. But, I am master of this realm and I can assure you, there was no trickery of any kind on her part."
"In that case," Hob said with a slow smile that was unexpectedly, inexplicably sensual, "I think I'm in love. We should have dinner sometime."
The warm smile on Hob's face faded the last when Morpheus sent him into a final dream before waking. Hope wondered why she was still here. She was certain her time here should have drawn to an end by now as well. Yet, here she was and… here he was.
"There's yet time," he suddenly said, answering the question she had not asked. "You both have hours left to dream."
Time in the Dreaming flowed at the rhythm of its master. Sometimes it adapted to his mood, other times it was Morpheus himself controlling its pace. No matter how it moved, he always knew the time that had passed in the waking world. It was still mind-boggling to her.
"I have something to show you, if you'll permit," Morpheus said, his voice inscrutable.
She nodded, and they set out on another silent journey through the Dreaming's winding paths.
They walked side by side, one might even think companionable, down a lane that took them away from Fiddler's Green. With each step, the world around them transformed, the landscape shifting and reshaping itself in a blur of motion. Leaves no longer crunched underfoot; instead, they walked on a soft bed of moss and pine needles that muffled their steps.
In the span of just a few deep breaths, the sky above them darkened to the deepest shade of indigo, streaked with hints of slate grey and, nearest the horizon, the softest of pale pinks. The darkness did not feel oppressive, more like a thin cashmere veil softly caressing her skin.
Suddenly the area opened up wide in front of them and Hope saw they were walking right towards the shoreline of a vast lake that spread for as far the eye could see, only obscured by towering trees so dark against the night sky, they appeared to be black.
"Oh," she breathed in awe, taking in the stunning vista before them, shrouded in mist that swirled and curled across the water's surface.
"I imagined that would be the expression on your face when I'd show you this. Do you like it?"
He'd imagined her looking like this? Tiny jolts of anticipation, or vain hope more likely, shot through her stomach.
"What's not to like?" she murmured. "It's… breathtaking."
A slow smile spread, tugging both corners of his mouth slightly up, and the very shape of his face changed with it. Less austere.
"I am pleased," he murmured in a low, husky whisper. His gaze was fixed on the moon, hanging low in the sky, as he walked towards the shoreline, to her left. With a deep inhale, he came to a stop and stood there for a moment, motionless. And yet, his entire being seemed poised, ready to assert his absolute dominance over his realm, to defend it at all costs or strike down any intruders who dared to challenge him.
Despite his imposing presence, Hope detected a hint of weariness about him as well, a faint suggestion of vulnerability as he stood silhouetted against the sky, the wind whipping his coat behind him. He finally settled onto the ground, and Hope followed suit, stretching out her legs beside him and propping herself up on her hands. For a time, he said nothing, and she couldn't help but wonder why he had brought her here.
The landscape was stunning, of course, but there were plenty of breathtaking places in the Dreaming. So, why this particular spot? And why now?
"There was no ensemble that evening, was there?" he said at last.
She smiled and shook her head. "No, there wasn't."
"Did they..." he trailed off, as if struggling to find the right words. "Did they understand what you were doing? Did they appreciate it?"
They being Alex Burgess and Paul McGuire. Obviously.
Recalling the unimpressed faces of her small audience, she flashed him a wry smile. "Not really. Alex complained it sounded... scratchy."
"I thought I could hear the flutes," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Thank you," she said sincerely
The words settled between them, lingering like a wisp of mist on a cool autumn morning. "I enjoy playing the slower pieces more," she confided."They're calmer, more emotional. But sometimes, the really fast bombastic pieces call to me. I like to push boundaries and explore the limits of what I can do. Although I have to admit, they tend to leave me feeling… drained." She gave him a mirthless little laugh. "Tonight, I had the opportunity to play a Stradivarius, but I opted to show off, instead of savouring the moment. I should have chosen Clair de Lune or something equally sublime. Screw the wager."
"It will still be here, waiting for you, whenever you choose to play it," Morpheus replied calmly. "Since she didn't have the chance to be here tonight, I'm sure Lucienne would love to hear you perform." He paused for a moment, then added, "As would I."
He gave her his profile, and she couldn't help but notice the precise lines of his face. Though there was a certain fragility about him, his features were undeniably striking. His chin was strong and squared off, while his jawline was even more prominent. And he had a downright elegant nose, straight as a blade. Every line of him was precisely drawn. Exquisite.
Each individual aspect and angle of his face had something appealing. Taken together though, he could look incredibly otherwordly, devastating. Beautiful.
Unexpectedly, he turned his face towards her again, and caught her staring.
"Then I will play again," she said quickly, hoping it would divert his attention.
The faint smile he gave her told her he knew exactly what she was doing. "Does it still bother you?" he asked, his gaze sliding down to her hand.
"Not really. Just some left over─"
"May I?"
Without waiting for her reply, he placed his hand over hers and gently held it trapped beneath his, until she could feel a warmth spreading into her fingers, the back of her hand, until even the last traces of fatigue and cramp disappeared.
"I like to come here to think," he admitted out of the blue, his hand still covering hers. "I used to come here with─" He froze and quickly pulled back his hand and he fell back into brooding silence for a spell before he started talking again. "Someone I once loved… or tried to love, enjoyed this place as well. Sometimes I come here. To remember, perhaps."
Holy…! He was talking about one of his exes!
"May I ask what happened?" Hope inquired softly, holding her breath in anticipation of his response.
"It was a long time ago, when we were all still young and foolishly proud," Morpheus began, his voice low and rumbling. "I found myself in a precarious situation, and only my sibling, Desire, offered assistance. They did not send an army, but instead, a lover, as they had promised. One I did not want." He sighed deeply. "Still, I submitted to their request to welcome her, and… not hurt her."
Hope furrowed her brow, trying to piece together the story from his cryptic words. What kind of situation required an army, or assistance from a lover? It was all so confusing.
"After the situation was resolved, I tried to love her, but I could not trust her completely," Morpheus continued, his tone heavy with regret. "I gave her a small portion of the Dreaming. A small skerry where she could live her life. Away from me. Sometimes I find myself wondering if things could have been different."
That did not sound at all like what Merv had told her in the library. Sure, his story raised way more questions than it answered, but it was different. In fact, he seemed different. He'd been surprisingly modest this entire visit by 'Dream of the Endless' terms. With exception maybe to their earlier 'spat' for which she was more than willing to bear the blame. Even if Morpheus had grossly overreacted.
Well, since they were now apparently sharing things…
"Listen, I'm not broken. I'm not some fragile little doll you have to handle with care. So, if you even dare look at me as though I am, I swear I will tell Lucienne. She'll be mad at you for ages and we both know you don't like that."
There, at least she got that off her chest first.
"With that out of the way," she said, adopting a quieter volume, not even daring to look in his direction. "Uhm, so, shitty things happened to me, in the past. It's fine, mostly, I mean… I found a coping mechanism, as you already know."
It was really, thoroughly embarrassing, to tell him this. And she realized that he too must have struggled when he told her his story. "Unfortunately, my coping mechanism doesn't seem to have an off-switch. Which pretty much sucks when… What I'm trying to say is, I can see why you would want to come here and… think."
"Humans… You never cease to amaze me," he replied, voice measured and contemplative. "You can be so innovative, resourceful. As well as petty and greedy─" Morpheus appeared to quickly check himself. When he continued, he'd admirably gotten rid of most of his sudden anger. "It surprises me how shockingly unimaginative you can be sometimes. Giving up on a potentially fulfilling and rewarding relationship because of such a small aspect that doesn't go as planned?" He shook his head as though he really could not fathom it.
"You're calling it a small aspect? Isn't it supposed to be…" Hope formed her hands in a ball and then emulating an explosion with them she mouthed the word 'BOOM'.
Morpheus rose to his feet and offered her his hand. When he helped her get her footing he told her, "My past relationships may have ended on bad terms, but I do know,"─he took a step closer to her until not even an inch was left between them─"a relationship is so… much… more."
Oh, that was so not fair!
Had she not already fallen hard enough for him? There really was no need to try and flatten her to a pulp!
A tiny part, hidden very deep in side of her, was still bleating at standing so close to him… that recognised the danger and understood he was without a doubt something far better appreciated from a distance, like a chimera. But, lately, the much more sensory part of her had seized full control. And that part shivered with delight at the low registers his voice could reach, and its husky quality. It was the part that knew she was no longer master of her own heart.
"It's time for you to return, Hope, you have a few precious hours left to dream. Till next we meet."
He lifted his hand and Hope new that with just a slight gesture of his hand, she'd be back.
"Wait," she breathed, "one moment, please." She swallowed hard. "I want to thank you, for everything. For letting me visit Lucienne, the Strad… and taking that dream away. I'm not sure it was even really a dream, but it was hard to keep reliving. So, thank you."
Because knowing that he'd never look at her that way, surely one day it would manage to finish her off for good.
Morpheus didn't reply, exactly. And he was sporting a rather puzzled look before he did lift his hand again and said, "Sleep well, Hope."