DREAM ON A WINTER SOLSTICE
12/19/98 © Rory V. Pascual
Introduction

        To those of you who are not familiar with "The Sandman", this was an immensely popular comic book series created by Neil Gaiman and which ran on DC Comics' Vertigo imprint. A story in this series, "A Midsummer Night's Dream", earned the distinction of  being the FIRST and ONLY comic book to win the World Fantasy Award for Best Story. In case you haven't guessed it yet, I am a very big fan of "The Sandman". I LOVE this  comic book just as much as I LOVE "Highlander: The Series." 

        [click on Neil's pic on left margin to go to one of his sites.]

        From what I've seen so far, no one has yet made a crossover between "Highlander"and "The Sandman". It's only right that I finally have Duncan and Methos meet Dream  and the rest of his dysfunctional family, known as the Endless.

        Although it is not required reading to understand the story, there are references to  certain events that took place in the comic book. Since "The Sandman" also follows a  timeline, the aspect of Dream that I used in this story was the one that was born in "The  Kindly Ones" and "The Wake" story arcs. Joshua Norton, also known as the "Emperor of the United States", was the focus in "Three Septembers and A January", one of the  three stand-alone stories in the "Distant Mirrors" trilogy. The tale of immortal Hob Gadling could be found in "Men of Good Fortune", which was a part of "The Doll's House"story arc.

        "Dream On A Winter Solstice" was supposed to be the THIRD sequel to Innocence of Love. Somehow, I couldn't get this story out of my head so I ended up writing this first.  A scene in this story serves as a stepping stone to the "Kinsmen Saga", which I'll be beginning next year.

        LET ME WARN YOU IN ADVANCE! This is NOT the usual, run-of-the-mill type of "Highlander" story. DO NOT LOOK FOR "HIGHLANDER" CANON OR BASIC  HUMAN SEXUALITY AND PHYSIOLOGY IN THIS TALE. I've thrown all three out of the fourth floor window of my condo.

        If you feel you cannot handle "REALLY WEIRD" tales, I suggest you move on to another story. If you still persist in reading it, despite the fact you've been warned, DON'T FLAME ME! I've had to deal with a lot of crap this past year since I started putting my HL fic on the Web. I've got every right to write what I want and NO ONE IS GOING TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!

         Finally, for the ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS. This story would not have been possible but for the following people:

        To Eng, for her continued support; To Ann and Jude, for cheering up and pushing this depressed writer to rise above the flames; To Attilla the Hunee, who, unlike other beta readers, doesn't just beta read but tells you exactly where your flaws lie and let's you do the correcting yourself.

         Unlike another draconian beta, who takes your story and flies to God knows where on wings of scale and leather. Thank you for letting me, Rory. And all the other Teddy's thank you too.

The Dream Begins Here...

Part One

        An actor once said that it always rains in Seacouver. Whether he meant it derogatorily, one would never know since he has left the cool Canadian climes for sunny Los Angeles. However, the weather was not the reason why Desire, Despair and Delirium of the Endless tended to avoid the city like the plague. Seacouver was bustling with activity of the Immortal variety. No, not the kind of eternal life they and their four other siblings possessed. The other kind, the one which began with a capital "I". Those beings who lived to fight other Immortals in a seemingly never-ending battle for heads and Quickenings so that, in the end, there can be only one. One what? Not even Destiny, with his dusty book of future's mysteries knew the answer to this question.

        Godlings, these Immortals were. "Princes of the Universe", they were called. But one Immortal in particular shone brighter than all the rest, a delectable fruit waiting to be plucked. Bad weather and any other unpleasant conditions aside, it was this star-like being who finally drew the three youngest siblings of the Endless to the city.

        "Dream," called Desire, "I am not in my gallery, nor do I hold your sigil in my hand. But your sisters and I summon you. Come to us!"

        From the brick framework of the store behind them, Dream materialized, clad in a gleaming white shirt of gossamer silk, pale jeans and white boots. Hanging from a gold chain around his neck was a large emerald. His tousled snowy mane was further ruffled by the gentle breeze. Though the expression on his pasty white face was unreadable, there was a twinkle within the fathomless dark hollows of his eyes as he gazed at his three sisters.

        "You have summoned me and I have come," he said in a voice as cold as the Arctic wind. "Speak your minds, sisters. There are still many things that need to be done in my kingdom."

        "Daniel, you are beginning to sound like your predecessor."

        "The child who was once Daniel Hall has been burned to ashes. That part of him that was immortal as was the aspect of Morpheus, the being who came before me, has been transfigured into what you see before you now. I am Dream of the Endless. No more, no less. You know that."

        "Yes, yes! We know that!" his sister declared flippantly. "But then, you should know that time does not mean it as they passed by. It was used to getting that kind of reaction. After all it was the embodiment of beauty, lust and seduction. "Surely you could spare a moment of your eternity to play a game with us."

        "Ah!" exclaimed Dream knowingly. "Another game! Don't you get tired of these things, Desire? I see you've even brought Despair and Delirium into this affair."

        "Because the prize is worth it," Despair replied in her raspy voice, oozing with doom and gloom. Compared to her beautiful twin, Despair was a ghoul, with her naked, blubbery body and corpse gray skin. The only adornment on her ghastly frame was the ring on her finger. But even the ring itself was a morbid thing because of the sharp hook rising from its coil.

        "And what is the prize?" he queried.

        "Not 'what', dear brother," answered Desire. "Who?"

        Dream turned his gaze in the direction Desire's slim finger pointed. Walking down the street was a tall, very handsome young man. He has the build and grace of a god. Pleasant of face, he has expressive dark brown eyes and full lips. His head was crowned with a glorious mane of sable hair, tied in one long braid that extended down his back, the curled end caressing his curvaceous buttocks. Carrying a small bag of groceries in his arms, he just ambled along the sidewalk. Dream knew immediately what he was.

        "He is an Immortal," the Lord of the Dreaming mused out loud. "It is not our place to interfere with their race. They write the books of their own lives."

        "I disagree with you, brother," countered Despair. "They are not exempt from the influence of the Endless."

        "There is a deep mind hurt in this one," said Dream, looking at the Immortal carefully. "The loss of innocence so pure, that to do this day, it still continues to haunt him. Nevertheless, there is something of the child that remains within him." His eyes narrowed as he turned to his sisters. "What is your plan? I do not want this exquisite creature to suffer anymore than he has."

        "The game is simple," was Desire's reply. "Despair, Delirium and I will entice him and lure him into our realms, to do with as we please. It is up to you, with your little dreams, to redeem him before one of us lays claim to him permanently. The game ends after the clock strikes twelve on the winter solstice. If you lose, you can no longer interfere in this Immortal's life."

        Dream gave his scheming younger sibling a piercing glare. "You would want such a magnificent being in your thrall, regardless of what this might do to him. Have you three not learned your lesson with Emperor Norton?"

        "You were lucky then," said Despair. "Now, we play to win."

        Their conversation was halted when they saw the young Immortal pause before their youngest sister, Delirium. Delirium had settled down on the pavement, thin legs, clad in frayed, multicolored stockings, stretched out. Part of her being had discorporated from her and transformed into tiny kittens of different shapes and sizes, playing all over her deceptively frail form.

       The Immortal got down to his knees, settling the bag down. Smiling, he said, "You have beautiful kittens. Are they all yours?"

        "Yup!" Delirium answered in her absent-minded way. "Some what! They kinda escaped from my essence and changed into these kitties when I wanted puppies. You know."

        "But they're just as pretty as puppies," he commented. Concerned, he asked, "Are you all alone? Where are your parents?"

        "My sisters and my brother are just talking. Nonsense stuff as usual. Do you know that if a kitten scratches you, you'll get these itchy red bumps like mosquito bites but they itch a lot worse because kittens have poison in their claws?"

        The young man picked up a kitten carefully in his hands. "I've heard of it but kittens, or cats for that matter, wouldn't scratch you if you're gentle with them."

        Delirium beamed, gazing up at that handsome face through her mismatched eyes. "You're very smart! I like you! What's your name?"
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