Chapter Text
The pain comes in waves. The regret follows. Nausea inundates George’s body and threatens to overtake his consciousness. It’s only a matter of minutes before he slumps down in the heavily forested woods, the dense shrubbery making the atmosphere unbearably humid and claustrophobic. The ground, saturated with rain water, is pliable and mushy under his touch. Somewhere far off, birds are chirping, singing merrily in spite of him, mocking George’s current situation. He wants to be free like them. George breathes a heavy sigh through his racing heart before letting his heavy head sink into his hands.
How far has he been running?
The castle is nowhere in sight; in fact he doesn’t even know if he is on kingdom grounds. George lets out a deranged laugh before he faces the sky and lets the light drizzle drip onto his forehead and slide down the bridge of his nose. The pit in his stomach seems bottomless and suffocatingly seizes him all at once in an agonizing manner. He inhales and exhales deeply, sucking in the air in large quantities but none of it seems to settle in his lungs.
George breaks his resolve. Foolish to run from what has already been set in front of him. He lifts himself from the ground painfully, careful not to trample his freshly ironed clothes matched for this occasion. His cloak, unfortunately, is soaked from blue into a dark indigo and his hair clings to his face. His breath is still ragged; he’s not particularly athletic and the miles he ran didn’t do him justice either.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots and rustling foliage emerges from behind him and George brings his attention to reality. He is here. In Dream’s kingdom. There is certainly no escape.
Behind him from the shrubbery emerges a fairly decently built man donning full armor and a white headband, which keeps his ruffled black hair from obscuring his eyes. He looks somewhat shy on intruding what seems to be a particularly private moment, yet so intimidating in his complete military outerwear.
George recognizes this man almost instantaneously. At his first meeting with Dream not long ago, he remembers seeing this man behind him, with an air of loyalty to his prince.
This is Dream’s personal bodyguard, sworn to serve the single duty to protect him, George registers.
George feels despair once more. Of course there is no escaping in this kingdom. Dream is a tyrant after all.
“Uhm..” The voice behind him clears his throat.
“I was told to escort you back to castle grounds, Prince George.” The man says quietly. “Unless you want some more time here then I can wait too, I guess.”
The man behind him shifts awkwardly from foot to foot while avoiding eye contact with George.
This is Dream’s personal knight? George is beyond amused now. Well at least someone acts human in this kingdom. Thank god not everyone in this kingdom wears a mask and acts emotionless. George relaxes his shoulders and feels much more reassured, but he still stays silent observing the man.
“Uhm I’m Sapnap,” the man says shyly.
“Dream wants you back at the castle soon to discuss alliance terms when you have ‘stopped being an idiot’” Sapnap quotes. “And uhm I’m here to help you with that?”
“Why aren’t you by his side?” George responds instead, disregarding the request and forgetting to filter his thoughts.
“Because he wants me here to get you?”
“But what if he were to be attacked now, then what would happen?”
“I mean like Dream is strong enough to carry himself in a battle. I think he’ll be fine.” Sapnap answers, clearly extremely confused and suspicious.
“How does he know that you’re not here just to secretly work with me and allow me to break off our agreement?”
“Well Dream trusts me, something you have not earned yet, and if you don’t get back to the castle Dream might think you’re betraying the terms.”
Touché , George thinks very amused. Noticing the lack of retort, Sapnap smiles very briefly, taking it as a personal victory, before extending a hand towards the path back to the castle. This time, George is not so reluctant to go back.
They walk along the trail back to the castle where George’s footprints have already indented the land. The light drizzle has come to a stop and the sun is starting to emerge from behind the clouds and shed some warmth in the autumn weather.
“So, how old are you?” Sapnap asks, hoping to strike a conversation on their long way back. George can already associate Sapnap with being almost like a panda bear, clingy yet sweet.
“I’m almost 21,” George responds. It would be nice to have a friend in this lonely kingdom , he considers. “What about you?” he adds tentatively.
Sapnap looks over and shoots him a grin. “I’m only 19!” he says proudly. Impressed, George raises an eyebrow; that is awfully young to be a bodyguard and much less the prince’s most trusted personnel.
In no less than mere minutes, they are back at the gates of the castle and Sapnap gives an acknowledging nod to the soldiers stationed outside before leading George into the main hall.
The air in here is frigid , George notes, yet Sapnap and the others seem completely unfazed. The walls of the castle seem too narrow, the architecture too sharp, the color of the walls too dark, the people too distant. George feels his lungs closing in on him again. Even with Sapnap, a newly acquainted “friend” of this kingdom, George feels overwhelmingly small and lonely.
Sapnap seats George at the end of a great banquet table and offers to take off his cloak for him, to which George refuses. It feels too cold in the castle to shed a layer of clothing.
From behind the double doors on the right, the masked man, who George met briefly upon his initial arrival to the kingdom, seats himself directly across from him. The apparition of a gust of wind from his entrance chills George to the core and leaves his fingers trembling in the wake.
He knows this masked man to be Dream. The crown prince, soon to be king, is said to always be present with a permanent smiley face etched onto a piece of board strapped to his face. Rumors have circulated regarding Dream’s face and his privacy, but one thing George knows for certain is that Dream is not kind. He is a tyrant, a self-made young prince, successful in pausing the attempts of colonization by the Schlatt administration to the east. George feels a shift in the crushing atmosphere; he sits with his fingers trembling, legs slightly bouncing, and heart racing. He peers forward at Dream with his stomach swimming with feelings of great discomfort as if he were restored back to before his personal meeting with Sapnap.
Sapnap, almost immediately, departs from George’s side to join Dream across the table. He’s far away, George automatically clocks. That’s right. I’m supposed to be lonely here . Nobody’s here for me.
“As you are well aware, your father has placed me in charge of your protection for your country’s resources.” Dream enunciates coldly. “This mutual relationship will be significant in allowing peace between our nations and in progressing in our wars with the Schlatt administration and enemies.”
Dream pauses momentarily and George stares straight forward towards that repulsive mask. Can he be any less colder than the middle of winter?
“And, as you are placed under my protection, betrothed to me if you will, you may not exit castle grounds nor may you remain alone for extended periods of time. I work for effectiveness and I have no interest in what you do, but if those rules are broken, you will suffer.”
George’s vision swims. Excuse me? Did I hear that correctly? What the hell is this? Am I a domesticated animal? It is certainly cold, he decides.
“What the hell?” Out of all the thoughts and emotions that flew past his mind in the past second, George decides to question his authority. Clearly not his brightest moment.
“I said what I said.” If Dream didn’t have a mask on his face, he would have definitely been narrowing his eyes right now , George thinks.
“Sapnap, I think you can get BadBoyHalo now to introduce George to his living situation and to get him accustomed to the rules of the kingdom.”
Sapnap nods to Dream’s orders and departs the room immediately, shooting George a slight grin on his way out. They sit awkwardly across from each other as Sapnap leaves to get this “BadBoyHalo” person. Dream’s stupid mask is faced directly to him and he looks down. Fuck him, George snarls deep inside his head. If he could, George would rip that mask right off Dream’s face and see how intimidating he really is.
“I brought him!” Sapnap cheerfully says upon his quick return, gesturing to the man beside him with great extravagance, before he returns back to Dream’s side.
Oh great, yet another intimidating man.
BadBoyHalo is dressed in all black with accents of red outlining his clothes. He really looks like the devil reincarnated on the earth and George has to suppress himself from another bout of fear. What George does not expect is his high pitched, enthusiastic voice.
“Oh my god, hi Prince George! I am honored to meet you! Yes my name is really BadBoyHalo, but you can call me Bad!”
Already, George can sense that Bad means no harm and that out of all the people he has met today, he is the most likely to become a friend. Feeling returns to his fingertips as he becomes more warmed to the sudden act of kindness.
Bad smiles at Sapnap and Dream and he gives them an aggressive wave, to which Dream nods to, before practically dragging George back into the main hall.
“Hi Prince George! So, today I will be introducing you to your room and the basic floor plan of the castle!” Bad enthusiastically adds, “I will also probably train you in mastering the sword! If you have any questions you can always consult me, I’d love to give advice!”
First of all, Bad can wield a sword? This man looks like he would set a spider free out the window. Second, mastering the sword?
George has not touched a single blade since he was seven.
“You can just call me George, if you’d like,” is all George is able to reply to the heavy influx of information so graciously provided.
“Great, George!” Bad leads them up the staircase and down the corridor before stopping in front of a huge archway.
“This marks the East wing! Usually these are the royalty's private quarters and it is heavily guarded at the entrance so no danger can come in or out.” Bad leads them even further into the wing before he stops in front of a set of large wooden doors.
“And, this is where you’ll get to stay.”
They walk into the large room together. It is very well furnished , George observes. Well I am staying here for the rest of my days and I’m practically not allowed to leave.
The room is extremely cold, but just as expected for a prince, everything else meets standards. He has a practical wooden working desk, drawers with parchment and quills, silky bed sheets, a closet of finely made clothes, a fireplace, and a sitting area. What he enjoys most though, is his large glass window that faces the setting sun and sits right above the castle’s garden.
And, to the left of his bed is another, large wooden oak door.
George approaches the polished door to open it, curious as to what else is left to satisfy his stay. Before his hand can reach the handle, Bad quickly interjects and places his hand on the handle.
“It’s best you not go in.” Bad urges. “That’s Dream’s room.”
George is confused to the maximum level possible.
“Why would Dream’s room be connected to mine?” George asks.
“It’s purely for security measures. The peace of your two nations rely on your protection and if anything were to happen Dream would be able to assist.”
Bad continues, slightly noticing George’s discomfort. “He would know if you were to enter or exit your room.”
“Why can’t I have someone like you just watch over me and protect me instead? Doesn’t he have more pressing matters?”
“There are people out there for you, George. A lot of people haven’t come to terms with having a foreign enemy reside as a great official in their country. Your contract with Dream now also makes you a potential candidate for a hostage and leverage. If you were, god forbid, to be attacked, Dream is the strongest person in our kingdom.”
Bad sighs, “I know this is hard for you but if you ever need help, I am always here,” and, noting the setting sun and the quickly darkening room, Bad insists, “We will probably begin mastering the sword tomorrow, but until then have fun! You can tell me all about it tomorrow!”
“Bye George!” Bad says one last time waving and smiling before closing the door to George’s room.
George is left alone once again, sitting on his bed watching as the room grays and the wisps of the sun descend over the forest. He takes off his now dried cloak and sets it on one of the couches in front of the fireplace before changing into a less formal outfit. Comfort over appearance, George thinks.
It is cold beyond belief now. He sits in utter darkness, shivering slightly to himself, pitying the situation his father had put up, the situation he had to sacrifice himself for.
I have not wielded a sword since I was seven. Perhaps I do need protection, I am far too weak to rule a kingdom on my own, George admits in defeat. His head sinks into his hands and he feels the same panic as he did before. All alone, in the dark, in the cold.
Not long after sundown, the door to his room creaks open once more and Sapnap peeks his head through the tiny crack, which allows much eyestraining light to flow into the room.
“God, how do you live like this George? It feels like winter already and you’re sitting in the pitch black darkness!”
“Yeah,” George says, “Not that it matters much though.”
“Why do you mean it doesn’t matter much? Anyways, I have the perfect solution for you.” Sapnap grins. He walks into the room completely and swings directly to the fireplace, ignoring George for the time being. From his hand, glinting in the slight moonlight, George can see flint and steel.
Ah, he’s making a fire.
It takes two ignition strikes for Sapnap to start the fire in the fireplace but once it has started, the room is much more illuminated and feels much less lonely.
“I love fires, so I can always help you light one.”
“Thanks, Sapnap.”
“No problem, George! I’ll probably be stationed outside your rooms for about an hour more, so if you need help just pop out.”
George considers this for a moment.
“Hey, Sapnap, can you leave one of your swords here? I’m having lessons with Bad tomorrow and I would like to show up not completely clueless.”
With some hesitation, Sapnap contemplates his request before he uncovers a sword from his side and sets it down on the couch in front of the fireplace.
“Alright if there’s nothing more I am going to station myself outside of your rooms,” he says, passing George a thumbs up, before promptly closing the door.
Instead of sleeping however, George passes by the fireplace and examines the sword.
Sturdy. Definitely not the best one Sapnap has but it is made out of fine metal. Metal from his kingdom’s ores , George scoffs. He can see a distorted reflection of himself in the blade of the sword that glistens from the fire.
God, I look awful , George thinks. His eyes are sunken into his face and his eye bags have become considerably darker, but it’s not surprising to him.
George sets the blade down in front of the fireplace again, careful not to forget its position on the couch. He climbs into bed, under the sheets where it is cozy and warm in stark contrast to the freezing night air. The warmth wraps around him and he snuggles into the pillow before, momentarily, the fire gives out and lets out a faint ashen scent. The room is still warm George notes, but it will get colder.
Unfortunately, he is unable to sleep and desperately, he tries to convince himself to just close his eyes and get at least a few hours or something that will make his appearance more presentable tomorrow. Shuffling back and forth, George finally finds a comfortable position to sleep: on his side, facing his left wall.
The left wall.
Underneath the connecting door on the left wall, there is a slight glow.
Dream’s not asleep yet , George notes. Of course he’s not. Probably making up some other plan, or sabotaging the Schlatt administration. Of course. He wasn’t self made without any effort.
Lost in his thoughts, George finally snaps out of them when hears the distant echo of Sapnap saying goodnight to Dream. Dream’s door closes with a light creak and he hears Sapnap’s heavy armor retreat down the hall. The lights in the hallway turn off as if all the torches were blown out with one decisive breath. The only source of light remaining is the one under Dream’s room which becomes fainter and fainter as time passes, yet still potent to George in the complete darkness.
Finally, the fire in Dream’s room snuffs out and darkness envelops George. There are no sounds coming from both the corridor and Dream’s room. Good.
George rises from his bed and throws the silk sheets off of him. They were false warmth anyways. He secures the clasps of his boots and wraps his cloak around himself, fastening any article of clothing he owns. He vaguely remembers another object to arm.
Sapnap’s sword. It’s near the fireplace, he recalls.
He lightly treads over to where the blade has last been placed and picks it up with his delicate hands. The sword is intact just as it had been given to him before. George slowly slides the sword in between his belt and his pants to secure it steadily.
Walking over to his windowsill, George carefully opens the window and gives a small sigh of relief when no sounds emerge from his action.
Below is the garden. I am only two floors up. The vines on the side of the castle wall look sturdy.
George throws his leg over the window frame carefully before swinging his other leg over until he is dangling by the wall of the castle. Slowly, he grabs onto the vines and makes his descent close enough to the bushes so that he can jump. He lands softly into the dirt before standing at his full height. A slight gust of wind hits George, but instead of finding it cold, he finds it comforting. He sucks in the freezing air in a deep breath and it feels revitalizing to his lungs.
The stars glow brightly and the moon illuminates the path for him.
Slowly, with a blade in his hand and a great amount of determination, George makes his way back to his kingdom on foot.