Chapter Text
“Can I ask you something?”
You’re sitting in the gardens of the palace of the Dreaming with the Lord of Dreams himself, who slowly looks up at you over the top of his book (some report on a nightmare doing who knows what) like you’re a nuisance. You know that’s not the case though, since he’s the one that sought you out and invited you to join him.
After your…memorable first meeting with Morpheus, followed by a tearful goodbye with the woman goddess who had been your roommate for the past few months, you had never been expecting to see either again. They were important beings of myth and legend, after all—you were just a regular human. Practically nothing compared to them! That’s why it was so surprising when you went to sleep barely a week later and found yourself face-to-face with the Sandman once more.
“I owe you a boon, whether you believe yourself worthy or not,” he said. “And I imagine that you have many questions relating to the information you received that fateful night. Therefore, you may ask me your questions, and I shall do my best to answer them.”
He was right, of course. You did have questions. So many of them that it almost made your head spin when you tried to think of the first one that you wanted to ask. But ask you did, and he dutifully answered each and every one of them.
It was definitely appreciated, and you felt that the conversation gave you a lot of answers and closure to this chapter of your life. In your mind, it was the end of a chapter. Calliope was gone, off to Greece and Mount Olympus and her sisters with no sign that you would ever see her again. Morpheus had deigned to meet with you once more, and now that his perceived obligation was fulfilled, you expected that to be the end of any sort of magic in your life.
But then you saw him again.
And again.
And again.
Now, you see him at least once a week. Each time, he comes to you in your dreams, and each time, he acts as though he’s simply being charitable by offering Calliope’s human friend some company. You know that’s not the case, though. No, Morpheus will never admit it, but you think he’s lonely. And now that you both have a shared person, that gives him a connection with someone…even if that someone is the mortal that his ex-wife found herself accidentally belonging to in what you can say in retrospect was a true comedy of errors.
“You just did,” he points out cheekily.
You remain unamused and roll your eyes. “C'mon, you know what I mean.”
He nods. “I do. Continue.”
“Please don’t answer if it makes you uncomfortable, but I’m curious. Why…why did you and Calliope break up?” How did you manage to so severely fumble the bag? is what you really want to ask. “I mean, she’s Calliope.”
What you mean by, “she’s Calliope,” is, of course, that she’s Calliope. Beautiful and kind, wise and strong, charming and witty, and a whole dictionary’s worth of other characteristics that can only hope to capture who she is. You had never met a person like her before, and you doubt you’ll ever meet somebody like her again.
Most mortals wouldn’t dare to speak to an Endless like you just did. Unfortunately, prior experience has made you bold, and you know now that Morpheus is begrudgingly fond of you and therefore won’t smite you if you overstep. Somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling so wary of the Dreamlord. Now, you like to think that your relationship is something close to a sort of friendship.
(If you’re being honest with yourself, lately your feelings for Morpheus are complicated, as are your feelings for Calliope. That’s a conversation for another day, and it definitely does not factor into your current conversation, thank you very much.)
A small, small smile plays on his lips, Morpheus understanding exactly what you mean. “Yes, she is. We were both much younger in the days of our marriage, if one as young as yourself can believe such a thing.”
You appreciate that he’s trying to find a bit of humor in what is assuredly a heavy moment, so you smile encouragingly at him.
“Mistakes were made by both of us throughout the course of our relationship, myself more. Ultimately, it was…” Morpheus pauses, and when he speaks again, it’s much quieter. “In the end, the loss of our son proved too much for us to overcome together.”
Well, now you feel bad. Calliope had only talked to you about Orpheus a handful of times, but with what little information you have, you know just how loved he was by his parents, and just how devastated they still remain by what happened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
He shakes his head. “When last we parted, Calliope suggested to me that it would be wise for us to talk about Or—our son together. That remembering him might help to be able to properly grieve.” Morpheus says that last word like it’s foreign to him. It probably is, actually. “I am starting to find that she is right.”
“She’s right a lot. It’s kind of annoying,” you commiserate.
This helps to break the heaviness that talking about death (not Death) and loss brings, and Morpheus lets out a breath in his version of a laugh. “She does tend to be right fairly often.”
Now that your question is answered and you know that you didn’t just ruin his day, you gesture towards his book. “Okay, I won’t bother you anymore, promise.”
“You are not nearly as bothersome as you believe yourself to be.” He gets a look in his starry eyes when he says this, one that conveys there is much more being left unsaid within this single sentence.
His confession makes your chest feel warm, and you try not to act as pleased as you are. “I’ll endeavor not to change that, then.”