Chapter Text
You nearly face planted into the ant’s nest when Dream materialised behind you.
“You are distracted.” came his cool, raspy voice.
Yes, you had been distracted. You were supposed to be practising how to walk, run, dance, adapt to your new human form, but you were distracted by all the juicy worms, ants, beetles… if you were still a raven, you would pick them all up into your belly and take a nice long nap on that thick tree branch over there…. ahhhh…
But you were not a raven anymore!
You reminded yourself and quickly stood up from the grass, wiping the drool from the corner of your mouth.
“My Lord.” You bowed your head quickly. (this had been so much easier as a raven too, why were human heads so heavy?) Raven or not, you hadn’t forgotten your manners.
You quickly glanced up at him to judge his mood, and your conclusion was that he wasn’t in one of his darker moods. If anything, he seemed to be amused.
So you started your complaint.
“This is stupid! I was perfectly fine as a raven.” You waved your arms around, “No, better than fine, I was an excellent raven!”
You both knew that was a lie.
It had been two days since Dream decided you were no longer as his raven. And gave you human form so you could serve as a dream instead. You should have been grateful he hadn’t just turned you into a pile of sand, but you weren’t. You missed your wings, missed flying, missed the agility of your body and how you could easily sneak around, all of which you could not do now.
“You have developed certain habits that are unbefitting of my raven.” It sounded like a reprimand, but his voice was so smooth and velvety, like the little black ribbons you loved to collect when you were still a raven, it almost came across affectionate instead. You wanted to close your eyes and wrap yourself in it.
“What habits?” You demanded. Though you had a rough idea. Stealing the Corinthian’s cigarettes and pecking him until he lights one for you, (you thought you looked badass smoking it) the eavesdropping on conversations you had no business hearing, the very often trip you take to Fiddler’s Green for a snack and then ending up napping there until the sun sets in the Dreaming.
“You know precisely what habits.”
You attempted to cross your arms like him and nearly topple over. Walking is ridiculous. Flying is clearly superior in every way.
“Change me back.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“My lord, with the greatest respect and as your humble raven—”
He spoke your name as a warning. And you knew best to close your mouth.
It did a funny thing to your stomach. That felt new, too.
“I shall check on your progress in a week. Report to Lucienne for now.” Then, as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone.
———-
You attempted to look presentable and tried to pat down all the soil and grass residue on your clothes before you walked into the library.
You had lost count of how many times you had fallen into the grass. Fiddler’s Green tried its best to soften the impact but the flowers still moved out of their way before your body slammed onto the ground from the loss of balance. You would have crushed every single petal if they hadn’t.
Lucienne was on the top floor, a clipboard in her hand, she was cataloguing some new books that had arrived. You looked for the stairs and sighed. If you were still a raven, a simple leap, a flap of your wings-
“Ah.” Lucienne had spotted you with a smile, her boots making rhythmic clicks as she descended the spiral metallic staircases.
Thank goodness.
“Lord Morpheus said you would be paying a visit soon.” She noticed the trails of mud you had left on the carpet and raised an eyebrow. “How have you been adapting to your new form?”
“Terribly.” You slumped down onto a chair, and started to pick out flowers petals and grass that clung to your hair.
Lucienne was about to educate you on proper sitting etiquette before the low muttering of complaints caught both of your attention. Mervyn came into view, carrying a giant wooden ladder over one shoulder, and a rake in one hand.
”Lush. I got the equipments, let me tell you how unfortunate it-“ He paused at the sight of your slumped form, his pumpkin carved features scrunched up together as he tried to figure out who you were.
”Who the hell are you supposed to be?”
”Hey Merv…” You raised your head slightly to look at him.
“Little raven?” His eyes widened. “What happened to you?”
You sighed, and slid further down on the chair to stare at the ceiling.
“Long story. I am not a raven anymore.” You sounded defeated.
You liked Mervyn. He always had a bunch of sun flower seeds in his pockets for you, and would throw one to you whenever he saw you hopping on your two little talons or preening your feathers on a tree branch. Your snack tendencies were pretty well known across the whole of the Dreaming, especially to those who were your friends.
“Huh.” Mervyn set down his ladder with a loud thud. “Boss finally got tired of you constantly stealing smokes and taking naps on the job, eh?”
“I wasn’t that bad,” you protested weakly. You still performed your duties, to a certain extent, why did everyone only remember the bad parts?
“You were worse.” Mervyn quipped, “You were probably the worst raven Dream has ever had.”
——-
You spent the last two days cataloguing books in the library, and occasionally helping Mervyn with maintenance.
On the third day, you took your smoke break in the ruins of what had once been a dream about sailing ships. The torn sails were flapping and rustling in the sea wind, and you sat on the splintered edge of the main deck. It felt comforting, the wind on your face, like you were flying again. You started to like this form, you could light your own cigarette for the first time. Maybe thumbs are not so bad after all.
“Little birdie.”
You snapped your head up.
It had been so long since you last saw the Corinthian, but you would never miss his distinctive voice and southern drawl in his accent.
“Cori!” You turned, threw your cigarette butt into the dark abyss below and leaped towards him.
His sunglasses were in the upper pocket of his suit, and he looked so good. His blonde hair tousled by the salty sea breeze, the light reflecting off the tiny white pearls in his eyes and his grin.
You threw your arms around him in a giant hug, you had been wanting to try that with your new arms, it felt nice. And you did miss him. A lot.
“Well, look at you,” he murmured, stepping closer. His cool fingers cupped your face, tilting your face up for inspection like you were an art peice, which in a sense you were, Dream’s art piece. Shaped, carved, formed with his vision, hands and sand.
His pearly teeth-eyes were in a grin, very close to your own. He looked so in awe of you, it almost made you feel proud for simply existing in front of him. And for the first time you didn’t feel like a mistake that Dream had to correct.
“Strangely like the boss, aren’t you? Suits you.” His thumb brushed your cheekbone. His touch was unexpectedly soft.
“And beautiful eyes…”
You pulled away from him, your cheeks burning. “Don’t even think about eating them, Cori! My eyes are off limits!”
He laughed, and put up his hands in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it, little birdie.”
The two of you settled on the ship, the wooden board creaking under your weight. His back leaned against the wooden mast, his fingers gently braiding your hair.
This was after you had complained about everything you had encountered in your new form, and how you had no idea what to do with your hair. He had offered to do your hair for you, so you let him.
“How have you been Cori?” Your heart was beating fast from his proximity. You hadn’t known he was capable of such gentleness. Having watched on a distant tree branch the way he had killed with these exact hands, the way he skilfully plunged the knives into the sockets of his victims without ever getting a speck of blood on his shirt.
He was kind to you when you were a raven, to start with, he never threw his knives at you when you pecked him. And one time, he even got very close to petting you.
You were sulking on the railings of the bridge, in a very similar fashion to your creator in the throne room, your feathers were flattened by the pouring rain. Everyone else in the dreaming was also drenched like a wet cat, including the Corinthian. He was confused to why you insisted on staying outside and try to convince you to go back inside the castle.
“He doesn’t want me there.” You replied, and hoped further away on your two claws, horizontally, away from him. You were upset, upset that Dream was upset, and also upset that Dream said “Not Now.” in that deep scary voice of his, when you tried to comfort him.
You soared into the gloomy sky before Corinthian’s fingers touched your feathers.
“Busy. Dream had been sending me on lots of errands.” His fingers combed through your hair. You sat cross legged in front of him, the sound of waves gently lapping against the ship.
“When did you learn how to do this?” You couldn’t help but ask. The imagery of him braiding someone else’s hair makes your heart twist in a really unpleasant way.
“I know how to do lots of things you don’t know, little birdie.” His voice dropped lower, more intimate. “Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”