He meditated on many things. The previous week, in particular. How it had felt to be mortal. The taste of mortal food, the weariness of a mortal body, the sensation of falling into sleep. The surprise of dreaming his own dreams.
It reminded him of a story he had one heard, centuries ago, in dreams, that his elder sister spent one day each century as a mortal, to better understand her own role as the dividing line between life and death. He had never asked her the truth of that tale, perhaps afraid she would answer him.
An impulse blossomed in his mind, but he pushed it aside. Now was the time for stillness, not movement. Contemplation only.
He considered the events of the 'party' at the week's end. It had begun well enough. He had repaid the Lady Fen's education with the gown, and accompanied her to the festivities. It had been pleasant to see her take such enjoyment in the dress. And when things had turned to violence, they had done their best to shield one another as they escaped back to Derleth.
Some faint chords were heard, and the Prince of Stories altered his thoughts, meditating instead on the new day. His powers were restored, and he could reach into dreams once more, feel the fragile balance between the waking world and his own realm, even if he still could not cross the threshold.
He felt the Raven's talons upon his shoulder, but paid it little mind. He was focused elsewhere. It was a decision to be still, to be unmoving, to refrain from--
A feather entered his left ear. Startled by the sensation, Morpheus flinched, turning his head to the raven.
♫HIIIIIIGHWAY TO! THE! DANGER ZONE!♪
Morpheus sighed. Matthew began laughing, hard enough to tumble from the Dream Lord's shoulder and roll on his back, wings fluttering, as he cackled and cawed. After a moment, when the raven had not ceased laughing, Dream stood. "You do not seem to be treating this with the proper decorum, Matthew."
Matthew, with effort, got himself under control, rolling back to his feet and starting to groom his feathers. "Uh, sorry, boss. But... I gotta ask... what is the 'proper decorum' when the world starts going all Top Gun on you?"
Morpheus strove to appear dignified. He lifted his chin, squared his shoulders, and.... hesitated. "Ignore it as much as possible," he answered at last.