(Untitled)

[a_poor_guardian]

Archibald Craven sees no need to leave Milliways. He never does have a destination in mind when he travels, other than away from Yorkshire, and as he told Raguel last night, he can hardly go any further than the end of the universe

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[lord_of_dreams]

"Good evening, Archibald Craven."

A far too pale...male, humanoid...with stars for eyes and nightmares for robes is simply there,

"I trust your walk was pleasing?"

[a_poor_guardian]

Archibald met two angels yesterday, although he doesn't know it, and he heard tell of a griffin. That said, he is not at all prepared for the being who is standing beside him. Archie looks up, regrets it at once, and bends his head again.

Hoarsely, "It was a walk."

(Archibald also does not know that the gentleman beside him might be called, in some sense, the Master of the lands through which Archibald walked. If he did, he might have phrased this answer differently.)

[lord_of_dreams]

He could also be called the lands through which Archibald walked, and he would answer to both without hesitation. The being, Master of the Dreaming if Archibald prefers to think of him as such, offers the faintest of smiles and nods,

"Could it have been otherwise?"

[a_poor_guardian]

Archibald, as the Master of his own manor, would understand the first explanation much better than the second.

"No, I suppose not," he answers.

"...Were you watching me, when I walked?" Archibald can imagine this being standing and watching from the edge of the woods.

[lord_of_dreams]

"No. But it is close enough to correct that it will suffice for now."

Dream is often not terribly helpful. Even when he's trying very hard to be helpful.

[a_poor_guardian]

Archibald pauses. He has set his knife and fork down and his food is cooling, but he does not notice.

"I am afraid that I don't understand."

[lord_of_dreams]

"The woods are of the Dreaming."

Dream informs him, settling into a throne which was not there several seconds ago,

"I am Dream."

[a_poor_guardian]

"...Are you, sir?"

It occurs to Archibald, belatedly, that he is probably going mad. The view out the window can hardly be real, and the people here say the strangest things. Besides that, he has been hallucinating Lily's voice all day. This ... this man, taller than anyone or anything Archibald has ever seen, with stars in his eyes and a voice that Archibald cannot begin to describe, who can make chairs appear from nothing, is surely another hallucination.

[lord_of_dreams]

Dream looks at him for a long moment and then says,

"Yes."

And almost as an afterthought,

"You are not currently mad."

[a_poor_guardian]

That's a very odd thing for a hallucination to say, Archibald muses, especially since only a voice coming from his own mind could know what he is thinking.

He chooses not to argue with Dream. Instead, he inquires mildly, "Does it matter whether I am or not?"

[lord_of_dreams]

Not that Dream has a voice, exactly. Its more like Archibald is remembering something that someone very, very close to him who he cannot quite recall said to him once a very long time ago.

"To you and to other mortals, yes."

[a_poor_guardian]

"Other mortals are rarely concerned with me," Archibald answers in a low voice.

[lord_of_dreams]

"My sister's realm is full of mirrors, but also full of fog. You are never so alone as you are when you walk with her."

[a_poor_guardian]

Archibald is gripping the table, white-knuckled.

Maybe I am only dreaming, he thinks to himself. Maybe I am not mad yet. I am in Italy, at the villa, sleeping, and I will wake.

It occurs to him that he can feel the texture of the wooden table under his fingers, and that one does not feel things in dreams.

Archibald Craven is not the slightest bit reassured.

[lord_of_dreams]

And the question is: are you ever not dreaming when you speak to him? He glances at Archibald's hands, then back up at the man's face,

"I am not good with conversation. You are not currently asleep, either."

[a_poor_guardian]

"One would think you could at least try to reassure me," Archibald says to his hallucination. His hands and arms are trembling, despite the tightness of his grip on the table.