Fanfiction by Vivien - Harry Potter | Neil Gaiman Universe | Buffy | Multiverse-Milliways | Recommendations
Fandom: Sandman (comic)
Written for: enigel in the Yuletide 2004 Challenge; PG-13
by Vivien
The Morningstar sought out the Darkness beyond the Silver City. Of late, his mind sought the voices whispering there more and more. He needed to think, to ask questions away from the light of the City. He wanted to know what the voices had to say.
Lucifer knew things had changed irrevocably when he'd cried over Saraquael's destruction. He was now experiencing sensations of thought that confused him. Had he spent more time in the Hall of Being, he'd know the names for the sensations; doubt, rebelliousness, pride, desire. Since he did not know, he accepted the thoughts as nameless matters of fact, another of His plans willed upon him without his leave. With each walk in the Darkness, he grew more agitated, more aware of his scorn at the sight of the glowing spires of light in the distance.
He would fly, born upon powerful wings in the ink black Darkness. The Darkness soon came to be more comforting than the brightness of the City. He would soar through the nothingness for hours at a time. He would fly and listen and think. And one day, he dreamed...
Dream of the Endless was new to his realm although he'd already been there for time beyond telling. Primordial dreams filled his realm, and little else. His siblings were busy setting up their own realms, and they had little time to spare for visitations. Dream crafted nightmares and dreamscapes in his solitary world, not even needing servants yet.
He was very lonely.
Then one day, brightness filled his eyes. A dreamer entered his realm. This dreamer was exquisite. He shone in beauty and power, and Dream knew him.
Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to the Dreaming.
They walked together often in the garden that was not a garden. There were no gardens, not yet. Lucifer spoke to Dream of his concerns and his anger, the slights and injustices he now discerned within the City. Dream listened, glad to have a friend to walk beside as the mists of the Dreaming swirled about them and took strange forms at their feet.
"It's not fair that He should have all the power. Who is He to pull our strings?"
Dream smiled with amusement as the starlight flickered in the depths of his eyes. Your Lord and Creator, Morningstar. Nothing more and nothing less.
"You don't understand, Dream. You don't know what it's like to be in the City, feeling His eyes upon you every moment, His will overwhelming your own. I am powerful in my own right. Azazel agrees with me. Something must change. Soon." Lucifer's eyes seemed to glow with a yellow sheen, as his beautiful face twisted in growing fury.
I counsel you to be patient. You've no way of knowing what might happen if you effect change. You could be cast out, or destroyed, as this Saraquael was. Walk with me here a while longer, before you do anything. His fingers brushed against the angel's hand. The angel's skin was as cool and smooth as his own, and this brief touch filled Dream with an unnamed longing. He did not wish for Lucifer to leave his realm, ever.
Lucifer glared at him. "It's easy for you to say this, King of Dreams. You have your realm. You have your autonomy. I have nothing. But I will have what I desire."
He left the Dreaming then, and he did not return for ages and ages of vast spans of time. Dream was soon busy with the living creatures that needed his realm and his handiwork. He knew of the Rebellion and the Fall, and his thoughts often strayed to the Morningstar in the rare moments he had for quiet reflection. He did not see Lucifer again until he needed a most urgent boon.
He approached Hell in a formal capacity, a king conferring with an equally powerful sovereign. Lucifer's palace was a shining, cold mockery of the Silver City, but it was beautiful and luxurious, as was Lucifer, after all this time.
The woman Nada... I want her kept here as punishment, Morningstar. I insist upon it. Dream swept back and forth across the ornate throne room clothed in robes of livid nightmare.
Lucifer lounged on his throne, watching the agitated King of Dreams. "Why, Dream? What has this deceased mortal done to you? Why should we help?"
She defied me, snarled Dream. She robbed me of that which I wanted. She should have been by my side for all eternity, and now I would see her suffer.
"My dear Dream," smirked Lucifer. "Mortals are such a bother. They're hardly worth the effort." He stood and approached Dream, looking no less beautiful than he had the moment he'd entered the Dreaming for the first time. He no longer glowed from within, but he possessed a dark radiance that was almost as breathtaking. "Your most entertaining sibling has been playing with you, I fear. I can smell the desire on you." His hand slipped into Dream's, and the fallen angel's flesh was hot and firm.
Perhaps, muttered Dream, distracted. He could now name the feeling that the brief touch of angel skin had stirred so many aeons ago. He knew now how the skin and lips of another could feel upon his own.
Lucifer stepped in closer, aware that his presence was having an effect upon Dream. "We will acquiesce to your demands with pleasure. Walk with us, Dream, as we once walked with you."
They did not walk far before Desire felt them in its chamber and laughed with amusement.
After days together, as Nada's voice left her for the first time from her constant screaming, Lucifer finally maneuvered the encounter to where he wanted it. Lolling beneath the silken sheets of his bed, he took Dream to him and brought them both to great heights of pleasure, and then he asked, with his voice husky and tempting, "Join your kingdom with mine, Dream. Acknowledge my sovereignty and ally our realms. We would be a force to reckon with, a force greater than His."
Dream stared at Lucifer in silence for several minutes that felt like several days. When next he spoke, he was clothed and standing, ready to leave, and his voice was cold. Was this what all you wanted, from the first touch?
Lucifer met his eyes, those beautiful eyes, stars sparking deep within. He was the Prince of Lies, but he what he spoke was the truth. "I wanted you all along, Dream. I wanted to be like you, to wield power like you. I Fell, and I still haven't become like you. I want that, Dream. I want the power of the Endless. I want you and everything you represent."
Farewell, Morningstar, said Dream stiffly. You will never have the power of the Endless.
He disappeared from the plane of existence from which Hell operated, leaving Lucifer to seethe and plot and wait for thousands of years.
When the time came for Lucifer to exact his plots of revenge, he found he didn't want it. He wanted out, instead. Abdicating the Throne of Hell was the smartest thing he'd done in his entire existence.
He was happy in Los Angeles. Content to play piano for the customers every night. Content to dream small dreams of free will and choices. And in one of those dreams, he met the entity he'd been close to once upon a time, for the last time.
"Dream, how goes it with you?" he said, his tuxedo perfect and the scars from his sheared wings tingling.
Dream was gaunt and looked tired, as though the billions of years had caught up with him all at once.
Lucifer raised a hand. "Never mind, I need no answer. I can tell just by looking at you."
When you Rebelled, Morningstar, did you know what would happen to you? Did you know that you would Fall?
He regarded Dream gravely and thought before he spoke. "I knew with every step I took. I knew from the first moment I questioned His will. I did it anyway."
Dream nodded, the robes of nightmare swirling about him as if in a frenetic wind.
"You approach your own Fall, do you not?" Lucifer asked, stepping in closer, not as a tempter or a lover, but as one who knows what it's like to be hurried down a path from which one cannot stray though woe and despair awaits.
I have spilled family blood. The Kindly Ones even now approach my realm.
Lucifer slipped his hand into Dream's. His skin was warm, and Dream's cool. "Well, old friend, as one who's been there, there's not a bloody thing you can do. For the likes of us, once the wheels begin turning, bugger all can be done to stop them."
I know.
There wasn't much more to say. They stood there, hand-in-hand, and the Morningstar once again provided a guiding light of comfort in the darkness for a brief while, as the wheels turned and the words foretelling Dream's fate wove themselves into Destiny's dusty book.