Page 19 of Precipitous Nightmare's Valentine Dream

“Good evening, Nightmares,” said the king with a nod that set a midnight-black curl tumbling across his crowned forehead. “I believe I overheard you speaking of love…”

Chapter 15

Speaking with the Nightmare King

Precipitous Nightmare

Dealing directly with the Nightmare King always threw Precipitous off balance.

It wasn’t that the man behaved pompously or acted particularly harsh with his subjects. Quite the opposite, in fact. Being in the Nightmare King’s presence reminded Precipitous of how extremely young the current holder of that office truly was.

The man had held the position for less than a century, part of a mass filling of roles when those who once held them fell or fled during the Catastrophe of the Incarnations. Nonetheless, the Nightmare King’s relative youth may have made him more amenable to the Night Terror’s plight. Precipitous could at least hope.

“You’ve fallen in love with the DayDream, then?” asked the king, who ambled casually alongside Precipitous across a massive stone bridge and up the ancient palace steps. The Nightmare had shifted down into mortal form for this conversation with his liege. The man had once been mortal himself and chose to maintain that image in most situations.

“Yes,” replied Precipitous, suddenly realizing that the answer came easier than expected. “I find myself admitting this to be true.”

The king led Precipitous, with Effie and Fester trailing them, through the tall front doors of the palace. Stone guardians in the shape of an eagle and a bear flanked the arched doorway. They moved in unison to pull open the doors to allow the group entry. The king waved for someone to escort the other two elsewhere, commanding that they be brought refreshments while they waited for Precipitous to return. A tall, bespectacled man, almost skeletal in appearance, with flowing silvery-blue hair appeared from nowhere to lead them away.

The king’s right-hand man, Precipitous knew. More of a mystery than the king himself, his origins lost in time. The man had served every Nightmare King that Precipitous had ever known, and those who predated his existence.

“You Dream is quite lovely, though not my type at all,” said the king with a wink, bringing Preci’s attention back to the topic at hand. “Do you plan to bring her here, into the Nightmare Realm?”

Precipitous stumbled, though the marble floor was smooth beneath his thick black boots.

How did the king know whether or not Luminous was lovely? And what did he mean by bring her here?

Recovering from his surprise, Precipitous murmured, “I had not thought that a possibility.”

“Of course it is,” said the king amicably. “She’s already wandered into the Dread Forest. With you at her side, she might go anywhere she pleased within this realm.”

Ah. Naturally, the monarch of this land would know when a Dream wandered into one of his creations. The thought that others, too, might have witnessed their assignation unnerved Precipitous. Anyone from the Nightmare Realms could have caught her unaware there. Anyone might have harmed her.

Precipitous struggled to maintain his least terrifying form in the face of this realization. Part of him wished to expand, to rage, to become so horrific that none would consider harming his sweet, wild DayDream.

The king tilted his head at the Night Terror, a thoughtful look upon his face.

One thing Precipitous had always admired about this particular king was his sheer refusal to be cowed by any of the creatures of Nightmare. He’d taken up his role with enthusiasm right from the start, and maintained a reputation as a stern yet fair leader ever since. And never once had he shown fear or discomfort, even around the most disturbing or terrifying denizens of this place.

“You want to be real.” The king stated it as truth, not bothering to frame it as a question.

Precipitous nodded slowly.

“And if this is not her wish?”

Only moments into this conversation and the king already hinted at the things that plagued his mind.

“I know not what she wishes,” Precipitous admitted.

Something melancholy passed across the Nightmare King’s face, and Precipitous thought he perhaps should not have seen it.There were rumors that this man loved a woman he could not have, though no Nightmare King in the past had ever been known to love. When kings wed, they wed for power and convenience. When they loved, it was ever a temporary thing, with loss at its core and its ending.

Whatever might be on his king’s mind, the man shook it off and waved a hand at the tapestries lining the hall they’d turned into.

“You’ll always have a place here, Precipitous Nightmare.” The king indicated a scene woven into a large wall hanging that depicted Night Terrors converging upon a village of sleeping mortals, warning with their frightening presence of an imminent raid. “My Terrors are some of the best creatures I’ve been blessed to inherit, and of course I have no wish to lose you, not when there is so much at stake right now.”

The war. His king spoke of the war with the King of Dreams, and Precipitous felt a frisson of guilt at the idea of leaving this realm during such a tumultuous time.

The king turned to look him in the eye before continuing. Some sadness lurked behind that contemplative gaze.

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