milliways_bar | (no subject)

*almost thinks before speaking but does it anyway*
Pleasant afternoo, Lord Shaper.
*curtsies very low, then sits back at her stool*

"Pardon me."

A short nod, then he turns to Desire

From the seat at the bar, Desire's head lifts slightly and turns to look into the room -- And sees Morpheus.

Desire's golden eyes narrow, still stinging from the dream -- the dream! -- of the other evening: The Endless quietly rises from the stool, begging pardon from the companions, and strides slowly over to where Morpheus sits.

"Brother," Desire says, considerably mild for its feelings.

He stands, and Dream is tall so it might be intimidating. He stands, and he reaches out, and he pulls Desire into a hug tight enough to squeeze a puff of air out of the other's lungs. A gentle kiss is placed on its forehead, and the Prince of Stories murmurs;

"I forgive you, Sibling. Please, forgive me in turn."

Desire was angry. Desire was prepared to fight, need be. Desire wanted answers.

Desire appears to have found more questions instead, freezing at the feel of Dream's -- Morpheus' embrace: The feel of lips on Desire's forhead about send it into shock, fingers grabbing into the folds of the elder brother's robes to steady itself.

Desire is not certain what is being played at, here: Morpheus has never been one for games.

He holds the embrace for as long as his sibling needs to get its balance back, merely leaning away enough that star-eyes can meet golden ones. He is sincere.

He is not playing games.

He has forgiven it.

And Desire wants to believe it. Even with the eons of dislike and contempt between them, Desire has wanted this -- Ever since that ill-timed joke with Killala of the Glow, the very moment Desire fell out of Dream's favor.
Desire has been waiting for this moment, never really expecting it, but waiting regardless. And now... It's all too easy.

Desire pushes Morpheus away, only hard enough to prove to itself and its brother that it can stand on its own feet: Desire's hands are clenched in fists at its sides, still wordless, though one hand snaps up, pointing at Morpheus. You, Desire's stance says. You are so...

"What is this?" Desire hisses at last, eyes narrowed distrustfully.

His smile is wry.

"Four mortals risked life, sanity, and more to rescue me, Desire. They journeyed for days through a landscape that most are lucky to survive a night in. For nothing did they stop, nothing at all.

You helped rescue me, Sibling, from something almost as bad as being dead."

He leans back against the bar, attempting to look reassuring. It doesn't work, he is still Dream after all. However, the very failure makes it clear that this is not an impostor.

Admittedly, Desire had a fair amount to do with that: At the moment, it is feeling petulant enough to inform Morpheus that it had very little to do with him (although Desire did miss him when he was gone) and more to do with their sisters.
Desire holds its tongue, waving the thanks aside as if they were constantly offered and had lost meaning (and Desire will regret that, later, in the quiet of its own heart).

"Yes, yes, I follow that part. I mean this. You forgive? You forgive, and suddenly, all is well between us? -- What about the dream you sent me, big brother? How am I supposed to forgive that?"

"I have been a bit busy to craft dreams, Sibling."

The voice is slightly dry, and very amused. Whatever Desire dreamed was either from the other aspect or...its own guilty mind.

"I do not say that everything is right. I say that I have forgiven you, and ask for forgiveness in return."

"I..." do, I want to, I believe you, yes, my favorite brother, I "...can't."

Desire bites its lip, a curiously vulnerable gesture after the blaze of fury, backing away as if expecting Morpheus to strike out again as he had in the not-distant past. "No," Desire says, though whether to reinforce the words or to itself really can't be said.

There is a long pause, then a nod.

"I see. Fare you well, then, Desire. I love you."

And he turns to walk off.

Peter turns on his barstool and addresses the two Endless. "Excuse me for interrupting here, but as the local mortal expert on wronging and harming beloved brothers"--a patient look in Desire's direction--"just say you're sorry. And that you love him. And that you forgive him. Because you are, and you do, and more than anything, you want things to be all right again. You want it so badly that it physically hurts."

"Quiet," Desire murmurs without force, watching him go. Peter's right, and Desire knows he is, but he's still stunned at Morpheus' response: No anger, no striking out, no accusations -- Just Desire's elder brother, turning and walking away.

Peter is right.
And that is what decides the younger Endless, in the end.

Desire launches after Dream, hands darting in from where Desire has slammed against his back; Desire's arms wind about him, hanging on tightly, whatever next comes.

"Don't go, elder brother. I love you. ...I can try."

Another pause, and then he turns in Desire's arms and cradles his sibling carefully.

He places his cheek against Desire's hair and simply stands there. Its been a long time since they had touched willingly.

Were Desire feeling normal, it would probably smirk and suggest they ask Destiny about that one: However, Desire clings instead, closing its eyes.

It truly has been a long time.