A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM.
devour.

01. AN ACQUAINTANCE TO A KING.

Clara was aware that she was dreaming. With her toes in the sand and the waves washing gently against her feet, it was an easy thing to realize. The water was cool, not cold. It was nothing like Clara imagined the ocean would be. In fact, she had never imagined visiting the ocean at all.

It wasn't exactly like she'd made a list of all the to-do's she intended on achieving in life and the ocean never made the cut.

It just seemed too simple to imagine visiting. What kind of grandeur could the coarse sand and salty water provide? The ocean was a scary place. Too many creatures lurking below for Clara's taste.

Still, this ocean was different. She knew that. The scent of sea-salt didn't carry on the gentle wind and schools of fish leapt from a distance. Not normal fish— great, giant creatures that could have existed a million years before her. 

Some hardly looked as if they ever existed at all.

"Hello."

Clara didn't turn, but she wanted to. "Hello, stranger," she replied. Her smile was wide, humoured at her own joke. She doubted it offended him. "If you intend to court me, a romantic walk on the beach isn't exactly my style."

"I thought courtship was a dead practice," the man mused.

"Not for the romantics," she sighed, not that she felt kinship to that title.

"And are you a romantic?" He asked her, his figure appearing at the edge of her vision. His presence was almost soothing.

"No," she spoke honestly. "I think if you intend to be with someone, you offer a part of yourself to them."

Clara crossed her arms and turned her head from him. "Gestures of love are appreciated," she continued, "but only when you know the person well enough to understand that their love is beyond the material and physical things."

Clara had never been one for relationships, but love was an idea she pondered often. She'd witnessed enough failed relationships to garner a certain understanding of what she needed out of one. A partner was more than a lover; more than a companion. They were a friend and a pillar of strength.

A partner does not steal from you; they do not take what isn't theirs.

Clara inhaled a sharp breath, mind riveting with the warning of the Fates. He will come to you with warmth— and leave you with less than what you had. Less than what you were. If Clara had used her questions right, she would have known that what came next would be her own fault.

"And what we have is hardly love, isn't it." He said it like a joke, not a question.

There was nothing funny about this to Clara.

  "I don't even know your name," she insisted softly, turning to look at the man. Clara usually had difficulty remembering faces within dreams, but not his.

  He was the same as in her memory; tall, dressed in black, and daunting with his nightfall eyes. He was pale too, but beautiful. Otherworldly. Inhuman.

  "You may call me Dream, of the Endless," he spoke slowly, in that same voice as before. Deep. Gentle. Kind. Still, he was very distant.

  "And Dream of the Endless, you don't think that asking a woman to marry you upon first meeting is rushing things?" She gave a nervous smile.

When he didn't reply, Clara began to walk the shoreline. She gestured for him to follow. She was confidant he would.

And he did, only one step behind. "You think that what I require of you is love?"

Clara tried not to be annoyed, but she was. "I know you're not human, but be serious. I couldn't marry someone who doesn't care for me."

"I never said that I didn't, Clara."

She stopped and he came to stand in front of her. He was confused by her anger, with his brow furrowed. Lips parted in thought.

"You can't say things like that and expect me to believe it," she replied. If he wasn't marrying her for love, he was doing it to make use of her.

What did that say for when she became useless to Dream of the Endless?

"Whatever reason you have for seeking me out and asking my devotion, at the very least be honest about it." Clara wouldn't fool herself. This had nothing to do with any desire he might have for her.

"What would my honesty change? Do you truly expect us to bond within such a short time?"

"That depends. You can learn a lot about someone if you put in the effort to know them. Besides, you're the King of Dreams, so tell me; what sway does time hold here?"

He looked at her curiously, "You do know this land well." He seemed surprised by that.

  "Did you not believe me?"

  "I doubted, but I was wrong to," he bowed his head in apology. "You say I must offer a part of myself to you, if not for your love, then for your trust in my intentions. So, Clara, I offer you all the knowledge you require of me."

  Clara went silent. She wasn't sure about her agreement anymore. In truth, there had never been a reason for her to take him seriously. Until now.

He fully intended to marry her.

And that should have been terrifying. It should have been unimaginable; a kind of obvious trick. She, a mortal woman, marrying a being so much larger than her in his importance? There had to be a catch.

What could the Lord of Dreams possibly require of her?

Clara didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to think about all the questions the logical part of her brain was asking. The only thing that seemed to matter was that he was beautiful— and he was hers, if she so asked it.

It hardly seemed a terrifying matter at all.

"What made you choose me? Were there no other mortals to your liking?" It wasn't a question borne of hesitance and insecurity. It was a curiosity she had, about whether or not he chose her for her experience, or some other reason.

  "Because you were meant to be a part of my kingdom, Clara. You were meant to be mine."

  "Such pretty words," she whispered, her heart stuttering, "but that's no answer."

  "Clara, the Dreaming is a part of your life. You know this land like so few do. You understand it. I chose you because you are best fit to aid me in my role— because you were made for it."

  She watched him cautiously. Clara wasn't sure how she liked the sound of that. It sounded less like the freedom to choose and more like a lack of control. Did she have no agency here?

  "That's hardly a reason for me to marry you," she spoke slowly, "Is it?"

  "You humans question so much, is marriage not a natural part of your lives?" He was annoyed with her, but mostly confused. He knew so little of her world, that much was clear.

  She glared at him, "Marrying a stranger is hardly natural."

"Which is why I've allowed you to ask your questions, Clara, so that we may be close enough to suit your comfort."

"You're hardly off to a good start," she snapped.

Dream was silent, pondering her anger. He didn't seem to know how to react to it. "How can I fix this?" He finally asked.

Clara didn't answer that question, because his genuine intention was enough. "Tell me more about what you are."

"I can tell you that I am not the only Endless you will encounter. I have six siblings, each masters of their own realms. Responsible for their own domain," he explained.

"There is a reason we are Endless. We have existed since the beginning of humanity, Clara. We will exist until Death tends to the last of it," he finished, attention still attached to some distant thought, or memory.

"And this is the first time you've thought to marry?"

"No."

Clara felt her body still. That foolish, human part of her was selfish. It was jealous. He had loved before her— and he would love after her.

Not that love played any part in this.

"Who is your closest friend?" She found herself asking. A thought to distract herself from her irritation. There must have been companions. Living endlessly would have been terribly lonely without them.

Dream looked away from her, his focus waning. "I'm not sure," he replied. It was honest and that made her sad.

"You know, they say that in a marriage, your partner is meant to be your closest friend."

He smiled then. That lonely feeling dissipated. "Is that so?" He asked, looking down at her.

She grinned, charmed by his voice and his eyes. Dark, supermassive black holes. It didn't scare her much to know that he was something separate from herself. A different being, with different laws to life.

That was when Clara realized how possible it was for her to fall in love with him; when he looked at her like she was light itself. Like she was a path he was ready to walk, regardless of what end it reached.

Clara could only wish to have that same surety as he kissed her cheek, gentle and slow.

"If not my bride, then you may consider yourself my friend, Clara." He gently held her face in his hands. "For now."