A/N:
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Standing before the mirror, Ravenna secures her diamond earrings, adjusting them to match her gown. The maids have assisted with most of her dressing and makeup, but she insisted on doing the final touches herself. There’s something grounding in these simple acts.

“You look stunning. As always.” The voice booms from behind, startling her.

She spins around, her eyes widening before breaking into a smile. "Ric, it's good to see you."

Cedric stands in the doorway, her Chinese friend who once felt like a brother to her. Forgiveness has been a slow journey, but here he is.

"Same here, I guess." Cedric stammers, shifting awkwardly.

"Stop acting weird." She nudges him, trying to knock him out of his nervous stance. He doesn’t react, still caught in his uncertainty. Ravenna sighs. "Look, I apologize for shutting you out. I was angry, and you know how difficult I can be when I’m angry."

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "I am your brother. How could I not know?"

"Ric, oh, I missed you!" She throws her arms around him, her grin widening as she squeezes him tightly.

“Oi, loosen up! I can’t breathe, woman!” Cedric yelps dramatically, but eventually, he softens and hugs her back. When they pull apart, his eyes glint with mischief. “You look healthy. As crazy as it sounds, I thought you were pregnant. I mean, I did some research since you showed most of the symptoms—”

Ravenna's brow arches. "What symptoms?"

Cedric counts on his fingers, “Drained, missed periods, cramps, sudden cravings, mood swings, morning sickness… After our fight, I came back to find you gone, your things left behind. I was worried, terrified, even. Then I saw the sand in your room… realized you were with him.”

She blinks, bewildered. The time she and Dream have spent together is a blur of passion and desire, and she hadn’t even considered the possibility of recklessness. "I… I hadn’t thought that far. About being pregnant."

“I know, right? It was probably just me being silly. But is it even possible for an Endless to get a mortal pregnant?”

“Desire did,” she murmurs. “They fathered a child with a mortal woman, just to spite Morpheus.”

Cedric shakes his head, his disbelief apparent. "Forget all that. I’m just glad Dream’s hot, red-headed brother tagged me in."

She smirks. "You and Olethros, huh? Didn’t see that coming."

“Oh, no, he’s only into women. Such a waste.” Cedric helps her with her necklace. “I’m more interested in the guy with sunglasses. Blonde, charming, handsome—that’s my type.”

“The Corinthian? He’d eat your eyes for dinner.”

Cedric's grin widens. “Oh, he’s kinky, isn’t he? Mark my words, Rav. I’ll shag him one day.”

She laughs. “Certainly, you will, Ric. I’ve never doubted your skills.”

He winks. “Glad to see you think highly of my wooing skills.” He leans against the dressing table. "By the way, here’s my gift for the happy couple—my advice for the wedding night."

Ravenna shakes her head, amused. “Go on, then.”

"I know men, and they love taking charge. But secretly, they love it more when their partner takes control." He raises an eyebrow suggestively. “Remember the day you went all ‘female alpha’ on Dream? He loved it."

Her eyes narrow. “How do you know that?”

Cedric shrugs casually. "I watched the footage."

“You did what now?!”

“I was curious! No regrets. But seriously, have you tried that whole dominating thing on him in bed? Not just to annoy him?”

“Once. It was just teasing. Can you blame me? He refused to wear the expensive dinner jacket I custom-made for him.” She scoffs at the memory, inspecting herself in the mirror for imperfections. “He was lucky I gave him blue balls instead of strangling him.”

Cedric grins. "Some vixen you are. Truly proud."

She rolls her eyes but smiles. "Thanks?"

"So, here's my advice: Go for it. Take control." Cedric adjusts her necklace a little, making sure it sits just right.

Ravenna nods. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

"Alright, then. Time for the big day. Let me do the honor, Your Highness." Cedric offers his arm, and she gladly accepts.

In the throne room, on the altar, Dream of the Endless waits. Impatience flickers in his eyes, though his expression remains calm. The guests are seated, all eyes toward the grand doors.

When they open, silence falls like a heavy curtain. All eyes turn to Ravenna.

Her grip on Cedric’s arm tightens as they walk down the aisle. But her gaze is set only on Dream, her soon-to-be husband.

Her gown clings to her curves, the fabric a perfect fit for her hourglass form. Midnight-black waves tumble down her waist, part of it gathered elegantly over her shoulders like a cascade. The diamonds in her tiara catch the light, and she looks every inch the queen she is.

When they reach the altar, Dream's gaze never leaves hers, both lost in each other’s presence.

“Dearly beloved,” the officiant begins, “we are gathered here today to join Lord Morpheus and Lady Ravenna Edwards in holy matrimony…”

Dream doesn’t hear the words. His eyes are only on her, tracing every detail, every curve, the softness of her lips, the way her breath catches as she looks at him.

“Will you, Lord Morpheus, take Lady Ravenna Edwards to be your wife?” The officiant’s voice cuts through. “To love, honor, and cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Dream says, his voice soft but resolute.

“And will you, Lady Ravenna Edwards, take Lord Morpheus to be your husband? To love, honor, and cherish, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” she breathes, her voice trembling with excitement.

The rings are exchanged, a sign of their vows, a token of wedded love and faith. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Ravenna lifts her head, meeting Dream’s gaze. “I love you,” she whispers.

“And I love you.” His smile is rare, genuine, and as he leans in to kiss her, there is a sense of finality, a sealing of something long overdue.

The ceremony flows smoothly, laughter and music filling the air, but Ravenna finds herself sneaking away with Dream toward the food section, her hand in his. They move quietly, like conspirators sharing a secret.

“Look at that,” Night exclaims with excitement as she and her husband approach the newlyweds. “My boy is married to his dream girl. How ironic is that?”

Time chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “Darling, Nyx, calm down,” he murmurs, placing a gentle hand on his wife’s arm, as if to temper her enthusiasm.

Dream stands a bit taller, pride glowing in his eyes. “Mother, Father,” he begins, a rare smile touching his lips, “this is my wife, Ravenna Edwards.” His voice softens when he turns to her. “Ravenna, my love, these are my parents. Night and Time.”

Ravenna starts, her tone polite but warm, “It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am—”

Night doesn’t let her finish, pulling her into a warm, enthusiastic embrace. “Oh, please, darling,” she says, her voice rich with laughter, “we don’t use formalities here. Not when we’re family.” She steps back, her dark eyes bright as she studies Ravenna, then brushes a finger over Ravenna’s cheek. “My boy is lucky. You, my dear, are an absolutely enchanting creature.”

A blush blooms across Ravenna’s cheeks, a soft pink spreading beneath her skin. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice almost lost.

Time smiles warmly at her, his red hair catching the light in a way that reminds her so much of Destruction. “Welcome to the family, dear,” he says, before turning with a quick, decisive nod. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must find Teleute.”

Night clicks her tongue, a mix of annoyance and affection crossing her features. “Darling, we are here for Morpheus and Ravenna, not for Teleute.” But Time is already moving away, searching for his favored daughter. Night sighs, a scoff slipping out. “Don’t mind him. No wonder the Endless have such dreadful manners. He’s the one who’s in big trouble.”

Ravenna giggles, the sound soft and delighted. “It’s quite alright. Let him enjoy the event however he wants.”

Night rolls her eyes but turns back to Ravenna with a smile. “Ravenna, my dear, you’re one of us now. You’re Endless. The wife of Dream. The Queen of the Dreaming. A leader, not a sidekick. You are his equal. Your shoulders bear the same weight as his. When he turns to darkness, it’s your light that must guide him.”

Ravenna nods, her expression serious as she listens to Night’s words. “I understand,” she says quietly, her voice steady.

Night takes her hands, squeezing them gently. “It’s your duty to be a mother to all who live in your realm, to see the right from the wrong, especially when Dream isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.”

Morpheus, standing just beside them, narrows his eyes slightly, clearly unamused. “I am standing right here, you know,” he mutters, his voice a low rumble of mild protest.

Night turns to him, her gaze softening as she takes in her third-born. She smiles, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Oh, hush. You always make me feel like such a proud mother, my sweet boy.”

Dream sighs but can’t help the small, reluctant smile that tugs at his lips. “It’s good to see you too, Mother,” he replies, leaning into her warmth, soaking in the comfort of her affection.

Across the room, Destiny and Death watch, a glass of champagne dangling lazily in Death’s hand. Her dark eyes are alight with amusement.

“Don’t they make a perfect couple?” Death muses, her gaze fixed on the newlyweds. “After Mother and Father, by all means.”

Destiny nods, his eyes calm and contemplative. “I believe they do.”

Death takes a sip, her lips curving into a grin. “So… have they crossed the bridge of destiny yet?”

“Almost,” Destiny says softly. “But one thing still blocks their way.”

Death’s expression shifts, realization dawning in her eyes. “The dead child,” she murmurs, her voice thick with disbelief. “Oh, no… he hasn’t told her, has he? I always knew my little brother was a fool, but this… this is a new level of idiocy.”

Destiny’s tone is measured, patient. “He is in love. And love is blind.”

Death snorts, a smirk tugging at her lips. “And you’re blind with knowledge.”

Destiny chuckles lightly. “And what has brought my fiercely independent sister to rendezvousing with that young man—”

“Admiring and falling in love are two very different things, big brother,” Death cuts him off, grinning.

“Admiration can lead to love,” Destiny counters gently. “That’s how Dream fell, blindly, for a mortal.”

Death rolls her eyes. “And I call that nonsense. Love is beautiful, sure, but I’m not looking for it. It’s not for me.”

Destiny pauses, his voice low, almost teasing. “No one escapes destiny, sister. Sooner or later, you’ll understand.”

He leaves her standing there, his words lingering in the air like a challenge. Death freezes, thinking, but only for a moment. Then, she spots Time heading toward her, and she pushes those thoughts aside, welcoming him with a wide smile and stepping into her father's embrace, thoughts momentarily banished.

Later, in the reception hall, Dream sneaks Ravenna away to a quieter corner. They sway together, their movements slow, bodies close. Her head rests on his shoulder, a serene smile on her face.

“Did I tell you how ravishing you look tonight?” he whispers into her ear.

“You did. A few times,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

He sighs, his eyes scanning the crowd, frustrated. "Do you think they’d notice if we left now?”

She laughs softly. “Of course, they would. It’s our wedding.”

He smirks. “But they’d understand.”

She chuckles again. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

He lifts an eyebrow, a playful gleam in his eyes. “I see you’re speaking in my terms now.”

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up and take us away before I change my mind.”

“Perhaps you should use your power to take us away. Concentrate on where you want us to be.”

“I can do that?”

“And more.” He grins as their slow dance ends. "But for now, make haste."

“Patience is a virtue, my handsome husband.”

“Not tonight, it isn’t.” He cups her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. “Concentrate.”

She closes her eyes, focusing as he instructed. She feels the power surge, sand swirling around them, and suddenly, they’re elsewhere—his chambers.

When she opens her eyes, he’s already looking at her, adoration softening his sharp features.

“Are you going to kiss me, or stare at me all night?” she teases, raising an eyebrow.

His smirk widens. “Patience is a virtue, my gorgeous wife.”

“Is that so?” She kicks off her heels, letting them fall with a thud.

Dream shrugs off his jacket, his hands moving to her neck. He kisses her, his mouth soft but insistent against hers, the kiss slow and deliberate. She exhales through her nose, refusing to let go, her body buzzing with an overwhelming mixture of relief, desire, and a hint of panic.

Without breaking the kiss, he discards her tiara, letting it clatter to the floor, then moves to her gown, stripping away the layers until her skin is exposed to his hungry eyes. His hand tangles in her hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss with a new fervor.

She pulls back, her fingers tugging at his shirt. “I want control.”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and he falls to his knees, head bowed. “As you wish, my queen.”

She brushes her thumb over his cheekbone, tilting his chin up to meet her gaze. His steel-blue eyes are nearly silver, pupils blown wide with desire. She swipes her thumb over his bottom lip, feeling the heat of his breath.

In an instant, they’re on the bed, she on top, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below his ear. Dream shivers beneath her, a low sigh escaping him. Instinctively, he tilts his head, giving her more room, more of himself. Her breath is hot, teasing against his neck, and she smiles as she feels his heartbeat thundering under her palm, echoing through his chest.

She nips at his skin, just enough to send a shiver down his spine, her hand firm against his chest, feeling every rapid rise and fall as if she’s holding his very soul. His hands grip her hips, not to control but to steady, anchoring himself to her as she moves against him. Her rhythm is slow, deliberate, each movement a promise of something more, something deeper.

He groans softly, eyes half-lidded as he gazes up at her, his steel-blue eyes almost silver in the dim light, pupils blown wide with desire. “Ravenna…” he breathes her name like a prayer, his voice rough, breaking at the edges.

She presses her lips to his again, swallowing the sound, and his hips rise to meet hers, their bodies moving in perfect sync. Her fingers tangle in his dark hair, pulling lightly, and he gasps against her mouth, his grip tightening on her waist. His every touch is a plea, every breath a confession.

She pulls back just enough to see his face, her own breathing heavy, her eyes dark with a mix of lust and affection. “You’re mine, Morpheus,” she whispers, and it’s both a claim and a vow, her voice a low, possessive growl.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment, overwhelmed, his hands sliding up her back, pulling her closer still. “I am yours,” he murmurs, voice reverent, as if the words are sacred. “Always.”

She smiles against his mouth, a wicked, teasing grin. “Good. Because tonight, my love, I am not done with you.”

He chuckles, a rare, low sound that vibrates through his chest. “I would have it no other way,” he replies, his lips finding hers again, hungrier now, more desperate. His hands roam over her body, mapping every curve, every inch, as if committing it to memory.

She takes her time with him, savoring every sigh, every gasp that escapes his lips. Her movements are a slow burn, deliberate and consuming, and he’s lost in it, in her, in this perfect moment that feels like it could stretch on for eternity.

His hands drift down to her hips, guiding her into a deeper rhythm, and she feels the shift, the way his breath catches, his body tensing beneath hers. She rolls her hips again, slow and purposeful, drawing out a shuddering moan from him, and she feels the rush of power, the thrill of control.

He gazes up at her, his expression soft and open, utterly vulnerable in a way he never is with anyone else. “Ravenna,” he breathes again, and this time there is something else there — awe, worship, something that feels almost like surrender.

She lowers her lips to his ear once more, her voice a whisper, filled with a tenderness that catches even her by surprise. “I love you,” she says, her breath warm against his skin. “More than anything, more than words…”

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close, his mouth finding hers once more. “And I love you,” he replies, his voice a low, broken whisper against her lips. “For all time, for every dream, for every night.”

They move together, bodies entwined, until they both come undone, lost in each other, in the shared rhythm of their breaths, the steady beat of their hearts.

As the last waves of pleasure ebb, she collapses against him, her head resting on his chest, their bodies still tangled together.

He holds her close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along her spine, his breath warm in her hair.

She smiles against his skin, pressing a kiss to his chest, right above his heart. “That was… incredible,” she murmurs, her voice soft, filled with awe.

“It was,” He breathes out with pure bliss written on his face, taking a moment to recover before he rolls the pair over, bringing her to lay underneath him. “But I was simply letting you warm up, my wife. We do have a long night to enjoy the beginning of our forever together.”

It is just him, her and an endless night.