Chapter Text
The moment Nuala entered the Dreaming, he knew it. He is always aware of what happens in the Dreaming. Though Dream would not call himself omniscient, his Realm is part of him. He feels what it feels. When part of it is being attacked or destroyed, his heart breaks. When a resident perishes, so too does a part of him. He felt Abel, Mervyn and Fiddler’s Green at the moment of their deaths. Such brutal trauma; such indescribable pain. But he kept it inside. Now was not the time to mourn them; his creations, his subjects, his friends.
Now was the time for a choice. One he thought he'd already made. He'd said his farewells to Lucienne and Matthew: his two most trusted companions. He knew The Corinthian successfully retrieved Daniel and all was prepared for the ascension of a new Dream. He made his peace. He spilled family blood and the price was his life. There was no way around it; no loopholes and no exceptions. He'd exhausted all options. His parents presented unacceptable alternatives and his siblings’ powers each had their own limitations. Such an absolute law was impossible to counter.
And yet, Nuala returned. She knew the cost he had to pay. He saw in her eyes when he'd left her in the Fae Realm; they would not meet again. But she still came back and fought. Not only that but she severed the Kindly Ones avatar; their connection to the Dreaming. Her return gave him pause and her actions made him consider. Could the Kindly Ones still maintain their control if their soldier proved a failure? Only the Avatar could act, not the ladies. Or so he believed. They needed a puppet to do their bidding after all. But perhaps that was only in regards to the destruction of his realm. The Kindly Ones could still end him right now, Dream supposed. If he allowed it. If he let them, as he was about to do. He wondered if there was in fact another option.
The rain persisted, washing down his cold skin. But he barely felt it; his thoughts were too convoluted. He told his sister he was tired, so tired. And indeed he was. Tired of this tumultuous affair. Tired of waiting for his ultimate end. Tired of feeling…defeated and hollow. At every turn he proved a bitter disappointment to everyone; his family, his subjects, to the Dreaming itself but most of all, himself. He was not strong enough. It was as Despair had said. He had hit rock bottom. The only option left was to give his power to a new incarnation. A better one. One that could understand the ever evolving needs of the Dreaming and humans. He was not what it needed anymore.
And yet Nuala returned. Such a sudden occurrence perplexed him. Why would she risk herself? He felt her then. Not just her presence in his Realm. But her fearless determination; her strength and most of all, her love. For the Dreaming was her home. She loved every corner, light and dark; every inhabitant, even the nightmares. She had felt more at home in her short time in the Dreaming than she ever felt in Faerie. She made a new family, one who respected her and didn't use her. A family who loved her for who she truly was, even without her glamour. She hadn’t said it in so many words but he knew. And Dream felt her devotion to his Realm and he as its King in that moment so easily. It was almost tangible.
Such a pull, such raw emotion. Dream had been adrift for so long now, Nuala's returning ignited something he'd forgotten: purpose. His purpose. His responsibility. He had a choice, always. His entire existence the choice he continued to make was to the Dreaming and to his duty as its ruler. Abdicating his role was never the choice he made. He resented Destruction for doing much the same. But he was making that choice now. Yet something in Nuala's presence made him wonder and hesitate. Why? Did he truly believe Daniel would be a better Dream? Or was he just tired of this whole charade? Would letting another take care of the Dreaming result in new wonders or would it be even worse than his reign? Was he abandoning those he cared for and forcing them to serve one even more undeserving than himself? Daniel was an infant after all. He would learn and grow. He would be surrounded by all sorts of advisors to guide him. But would that be enough?
Dream had only the briefest of moments to contemplate all these thoughts; his mind a maelstrom of confusion. His sister felt the hesitation and withdrew her hand. The Kindly Ones felt the shift as well, knowing they lost their avatar. However, Dream knew their stubbornness would not allow them to admit defeat. They were even more dedicated to fulfilling their responsibilities than he was. And their current responsibility was to end Dream. He arose from his perch slowly but standing tall.
“Good ladies,” he said, his voice echoing his exhausted appearance. “It seems you've lost your foothold into my Realm.”
“We need no Avatar to fulfill our true purpose, Lord Morpheus,” the crone stated, confirming his suspicion. Her eyes were dark with malice.
The maiden added in a kinder tone, “It is time to end things, whether you accept it or not.”
“In truth I believed I was ready to accept my fate,” Dream said, his voice catching. He continued stronger, “However, with the loss of your hold, I no longer feel such a conviction. While you are capable of ending my existence, without your avatar to assist, your hold in the Dreaming is fragile.” Would they leave on their own, he wondered. It was doubtful and made him question if he actually had the capability to expel them. The Dreaming had been wounded and thus he was weakened.
Death shifted her weight behind him and asked, “Dream? Will you actually be needing my assistance?” She knew she interrupted the Fates’ from responding to him. She didn't seem to care much. Dream knew how his sister felt about them. She didn't even like calling them the Kindly Ones unless in their presence.
“That remains to be seen, sister,” he answered coolly.
“You dare forsake your responsibility as well, Death?” Inquired the mother.
“Not in the least Kind Mother,” replied Death simply even though Dream detected her slight sarcasm. “But my brother seems to have other plans now of which my services may not be required. If that is the case, I do have other duties to attend to.” While she sounded sincere, her words toward the Fates were anything but. He kept his attention fixed on the three.
“Kind ladies,” Dream continued somberly. “My sister is correct. I believe my plans have changed. It is my wish that you depart my Realm at this time.”
“We do not take orders from you, Shaper!” Cried the crone.
“You are in my home, uninvited and unwanted,” Dream replied. While his anger was rising, his voice stayed calm. “Your purpose here is void as Hippolyta Hall is no longer accessible.”
“Hippolyta's course has been set, Dream Lord. It cannot be altered,” the mother added.
The storm above raged stronger. Wind howled and blew the decaying trees so hard they almost snapped. The three ladies felt the surge. Dream was coming back into control of his realm and everyone around could feel it.
“You cannot scare us into leaving, Dream,” the maiden shouted, her voice barely audible over the thunder.
“It is not my intention to scare you ladies but rather remind you that this is my home. To challenge me here is foolish. Nothing happens here without my approval. And my death is not something I consent to. Not anymore.” He stated forcefully.