Work Text:
Matthew Doesn’t Like It
The King of Dreams stood on the Shore of Nightmares, looking out across the black sea. Shadowed shapes surrounded him, half-formed, twisted reflections of humanity, silent and still. No wind blew, yet a soft moan filled the air. In the distance, a small tropical island rose swiftly from the waters.
From the empty air, a black raven dropped onto the bent head of the nearest iron nightmare with a metallic thud. Two small dark feathers puffed into the air and drifted away on the nonexistent breeze. “KRRAAKK!” the bird screeched. “I AM DYING.”
“You are not dying, Matthew.” Morpheus, Lord of Dreams and Nightmares, Shaper of Form, Aficionado of Ravens, did not turn away from his contemplation of the horizon.
“Look at this!” Matthew the Raven shook his tail and three more little feathers swirled up and then fell like stones. “I’m COMing aPART!”
“Matthew, I am working.”
“And I am disSOLVing into the Dreaming! Pay ATTENTION to me!” Matthew flapped his wings and hopped sideways in frustration. A large feather came loose with a twang.
The small tropical island tilted and slid beneath the sea. His focus lost, Morpheus sighed and turned to the upset bird. “I am paying attention. What is disturbing you?”
“This! This, with the feathers! I’m falling apart!” Matthew demonstrated with a vigorous hop and flap and a cloud of tiny feathers exploded around him, sparkling and vanishing. “Make it stop!”
“Nothing is wrong. You are molting.”
“I’m a WHAT NOW?”
“Molting. It is a natural process of replacing feathers.”
“I don’t need to replace anything! I’m a DREAM Raven!” Matthew yelled.
“You are a highly accurate dream,” Morpheus informed him, sounding rather proud of it.
“Boss, no offense, but I’m pretty sure this is not how ravens ACCURATELY molt,” Matthew snapped. “I mean, I’ve met a few ACTUAL ravens, and maybe they looked a little beat up sometimes but none of them ever had PARTS FALLING OFF.”
The Lord of Dreams shook his head. His eyes sparkled blue and the corners of his mouth tilted up.
“You're laughing, aren't you? Stop laughing at me!” Matthew tried to sound pitiful but couldn’t get past indignant.
Morpheus leaned closer and inspected the raven’s ragged appearance. “Hm. Possibly I took the design from how ravens feel about molting, rather than how they actually do.”
“Well, TAKE IT BACK.”
“Are you saying my design of you is flawed?”
“YES.”
Morpheus gazed at him silently, blue eyes twinkling, and Matthew could just feel his amusement.
“This is NOT funny. I mean it. How would you like it if bits kept dropping off of YOU?”
Morpheus would never admit it aloud, but sometimes his designs were not entirely perfect. He reached out to smooth Matthew's ruffled feathers, stroking a thumb over the raven’s head. Matthew closed his eyes and held still, enjoying the petting. He looked up again when Morpheus let go and stood up.
“Better?”
Matthew shook himself. His feathers remained firmly attached. He did a little hopping bird dance. “Yes! Thanks, boss!”
“You are welcome. May I return to work now, please?” Morpheus said dryly.
“Oh, sure. Wha’chya making?” Matthew bounded up to his shoulder and craned his neck to look out across the placid oil-dark sea.
A peaked island lifted into view. “A different kind of nightmare,” Morpheus said. Red smoke rose from the top of the island, and the ground rumbled.
“Oh, yeah,” said Matthew. “Volcanoes are nightmares, for sure.” He spread his wings and wheeled away from Morpheus, heading back to the castle. “See you later, boss!”
Morpheus pursed his lips and frowned. The volcano spit a few sparks and collapsed. Giant trees rose in its place. “Perhaps exploding birds instead…”
End