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Dream stood upon the sand, looking at Lucienne.
'So most dreams and nightmares have fled and faded. Are there any still loyal to me? That haven't been lost?' he asked, almost wistfully.
Lucienne dutifully inspected her clipboard.
'Feast has kept her schedule as it was before. One day a week in the mortal world to inspire parties, the rest of the time building dreams.'
Morpheus nodded thoughtfully.
'Then we must bring the rest back.'
He stood up, raised his hands and the Palace started to heal itself, before Dream collapsed and the rubble of the Palace fell on top of him once again. A ruler, downed by his own walls.
Lucienne hurried to help him up. 'Sir, you need rest. Rest and some food.'
'I need my tools' Morpheus said. 'My Helmet. My Pouch. My Ruby. And I know where to find them'
'And yet, a visit to Feast will be good for you.' Lucienne said sternly, and there was no arguing with her expression.
...
He knocked on the round green door that had been the entrance to The Feast since 1937, when its ruler had seen a dream-party based on the Hobbit.
The door swung open by itself, and Dream found himself sitting in a comfortable cushioned chair in a backyard lit by string lights. Music and laughter came from the house, but here, it was quiet. The lights reflected in a small pond across from the chair he was sitting on. He had forgotten how peaceful this part of the Dreaming could be.
Someone walked up behind him.
'You made it! It's so good to see you!' she said, as if she was welcoming an old friend to her party, instead of her lord and master.
'Here's your plate, my lord.' she added, handing it to him.
'Hello Feast' Morpheus said.
She smiled and bowed at him.
Her hair was a different color, but it was still the same dreamthing he knew and created.
There were so many wishful dreams the night before christmas, so many nightmares the day before a wedding, Morpheus couldn't hold them all. So Feast was made. Friendly eyes, welcoming disposition, a body made for dancing and a face made for laughing; Feast was every personification of every party ever.
Feast nudged a fork into his hand, and for the first time in a century, Morpheus ate.
Rich roasted potatoes, tender meat wrapped around white cheese, a heavy slice of garlic bread. It tasted of summer evenings on the porch, waiting for the rain.
When he finished that plate, Feast handed him a smaller one bearing a beautiful meringue pie, that looked like it was made out of bubble bath foam. He accepted it gracefully. It tasted like clouds and dreams of the first snowfall. With a little bit of lemon.
'Will you be staying the night, Lord? I'll be happy to roll out a mat for you, or you can take the master bedroom' Feast offered, faceless guests already busying themselves with sleeping bags and arguing cheerfully about pillows. A flyaway pillow came dangerously close to hitting Morpheus in the face, but it ended up being merely a slight spray of glitter and confetti.
Feast looked sheepish. 'Ah, sorry about that' she muttered, pulling a brush out of no where and brushing some glitter off of her master's shoulder.
It was odd, how used she was to casual touch. And how easy it was for him to allow it. He once thought of making her a desirable dream, but ended up deciding that she was better suited to being simply a friend, throwing a party.
That being said, rest sounded pretty good around now. That blissful half-sleep where he could travel at a whim to private, soft dreams of his own.
He realised Feast was still waiting for an answer.
'I do not wish to be alone, but perhaps with a little bit less...'
Feast nodded. 'A few of the company was just leaving' she said. The faceless figures packed up their things, hugged one another, waved goodbye and faded into the night. Morpheus heard the sound of a car door opening, and closing, and they were gone.
There was a polite knock at the door.
Feast looked at him cheerfully.
'Your guests, sir'
Morpheus wasn't sure if he even had invited guests, but he already knew the people coming through the door. They were dressed in comfortable plaid pyjamas, and in Lucienne's case, a night cap.
There was the sound of wings. Dream hadn't expected a Raven, but he was not unhappy with the sight of the black bird gliding to the ground, bowing and introducing himself as Matthew.
Morpheus had missed the ravens, even more than he thought.
Then, he gave his attention to the last of the arrivals.
Hob was admiring his fluffy slippers. They had cats on them.
'Hello Hob' Morpheus said. 'I am sorry i missed our last meeting.'
Hob looked up from his slippers and waved him away with a big smile. 'Save it for when I'm awake. Right now, I'm having a slumber party with my friends'. He indicated the small group of Morpheus' underlings.
Feast came out the door, carrying a plate full of glasses of milk and cookies.
'On the right are the ones with rum, on the left the ones without' she said, passing them along.
Dream took a sip. Perfect.
Maybe it was the alcohol, and maybe it was the way Dream had not been touched in a hundred years. It could have been the fireplace crackling cheerfully, or the smell of the fresh lavender and fir trees in the background. Or maybe it was just the simple comfort of being home, finally.
And so, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams, Lord of Nightmares, Morpheus, the Sandman, allowed himself to sink into the soft couch. Matthew sat on his knee. The familiar weight of a raven made Dream feel at home. His head fell on the shoulder of Hob, and Lucienne held his hand as he slipped in that distant half-sleep, to the sound of Feast softly humming to herself as she did the dishes.