Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

George looks in the mirror. How was he going to get through the day. The masquerade was today, the ball that happened once every 100 years, the ball that was meant to "unite", a multi-day celebration. He didn't believe in such things. Once people had their minds set on something, that was how they felt. There was no point in trying to change their minds if you knew there was no point.

The neighboring kingdoms would be coming here, some of them were already here, the sounds of their chatters floating up through the floor. George brushes the non-existent dust coating his crisp black suit. He considered taking off the jacket now, he knew that he would ditch it at some point during the night. No, he thinks to himself, he had to make an entrance, everyone did. Each person had to walk down the grand staircase, choosing a name that they would be called for the night.

He still hadn't chosen his name. He couldn't say his last name, people would treat him differently if they knew he was the crowned prince of Endovier. Perhaps he would just Come up with a last name on the spot. He was terrible at this sort of thing. He wrote so many books in his free time, and yet when it came to the real world he was hopeless. 

There was someone he was rather not pleased to see tonight. The crown prince of Meloria. He was the one person that he might hate more than himself. He annoyed him with his stupid grins and flirtatious comments. He was a heartbreaker. And no matter what, George would take no chances. Even though everyone would have bejeweled masks covering their faces, he would try with every cell in his body to avoid Prince Clay.

He was still staring in the mirror, lost in his thoughts by the time a servant knocked on his door, cracking it open slightly. "Prince George, the announcement for you will be happening very shortly." He gave them a stiff smile and a short nod. 

He looked back towards the mirror, searching for some reason to skip. He came back unsuccessful. On his way out of his chambers he grabbed his mask off of the table, sealing the fate of the night as he placed it on his face.

He stood at the top of the stairs, staring down at the mixture of people below. The only way he would be able to tell people apart was by voices, but because of his lack of socialization before tonight, he could recognize nobody, unless they told him. As the line moved forward, a nervous feeling started to grow inside him. When planning, he always avoided masquerade balls. He wanted to know who he was talking to. 

Lost in his thoughts for the second time tonight, he reached the Hall Master, who was already rushing through asking what his name would be for the night.

He stutters over his words, not wanting to be here anymore. "Ummm, Georgenotfound." he replies rather hastily, already regretting his name choice. The Hall Master shouts it, the name ringing through the large room. He makes his way down the stairs, eyes on him. These next few days would be a pain. He makes his way to the buffet table by the time the next name was called, a girl named Nihachu. Her pink ball gown flowing around her. 

George half-listens to the names, mainly just doing it for the sake of socializing later. One person catches his eye, a man who chose the name of Dreamwastaken, he didn't wear a jacket, the top-buttons of his green shirt undone. He was gorgeous, his sand-color hair creating a golden halo around his head, illuminating his sharp features more.

George stayed at the wall, his back aching in protest as the stranger neared him. Up close he was even more perfect, full mouth, green eyes the same color of emerald that were on his mask. George felt bare, his only black clothes and sapphire inspired mask seeming petty compared to the emerald one. The man stopped directly in front of him, a smile playing on his features. He extended a hand.

George eyed it, then un-crossed his arms, shaking it with many years of expertise. "Georgenotfound, I presume?" he asked, dropping his hand back to his side.

"Yes, but please just call me George, and you are?"

"Dreamwastaken, but please, just call me Dream." he said with a wink. George let out a small laugh, his mood already lifting by this brief interaction. 

"Ok, Dream, may I ask? Why did you chose that name."

The stranger, well, Dream, leaned against the wall next to him, turning his head to look at George. He was rather tall in comparison, not that it mattered. "I chose it because I always wanted to be the Dream, or be someone's Dream. I don't really know, it's just always been a part of me that I can now share." He looked back to George who was looking at him with an unnatural sort of admiration. Dream laughed, a sort of giggle which made George let out a small chuckle.

"I chose my name because I wanted to sneak away in a corner undetected," he said, doing a small dazzle with his hands. "so George would be not found."

"Well, then, " Dream said, pushing himself from where he was perched on the wall. "I'm so very sorry for interrupting your undetected stalking session." The tall man began to walk away but George reached for his hand, confused at himself for why he did that.

"Wait," he said, grasping for any reason he wanted him to stay, grasping for grammar to say the least. "don't go. You can stalk people with me." he played his desperate words off with a meaningless smile.

Dream shrugged, and continued maneuvering through the crowd. George silently cursed at himself for what he was about to do before he followed the man he just met, already attracted to the golden aura he held around himself. He carefully made his way through the crowd, making sure to avoid drinks being spilt and elbows thrown back. One man managed to elbow him in the stomach, hitting his soft spot. When he turned around George noticed he was mute but made out his sign language that his name was Callahan. George nodded at his apology and continued to follow Dream.

Next thing he knew Dream was behind him, spinning him onto the dance floor. "You dance surprisingly well." Dream said as Georges feet slid into the familiar movement he was forced to learn as a child.

"My life comes with benefits I guess." was all George said in reply as he turned them in beat to the soft classical music. "I can say the same for you. You dance like an expert." Dream laughed as he twirled George, earning a surprised sputter.

"I've always been a good dancer, but I guess you could also say my life comes with benefits." 

The dance continued, a swirl of perfect steps and cloth. Women's dresses swayed as their partner spun them, men wore foolish grins as they made small talk. Before they knew it the dance was over, closing with an abrupt stop. The people around clapped and George led them to the original wall.

"So, where are you from?" George asked, still craving more information about this mysterious man. 

"Meloria, you?" 

"Endovier, well, here."  Dream hummed in response as he handed George a cup of whatever alcohol-based drink the servants filled the pitchers with. George took a sip, nodding his thanks. It was rather sweet, nice on the tastebuds. He looked over to Dream who was still sniffing the drink. George laughed and he downed it in a single gulp, wiping his hand across his face.

The night was filled with drunken joke, questions floating in the air, being answered with no boundaries. Dream lead George out of the ballroom as the other guests made their way through the courtyard for exploration. George knew the castle like no other, but he liked how Dream led him away. The question was, where would he be leading him?

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Dream led him down winding corridors, George not mentioning when he passed through the same hall that they went down minutes prior. This was almost like a game, George thought, but what game? Dream led him outside through a door that very few knew about, George noted. As they rather hurriedly walked through one of the many gardens, this one George named 'The Garden of Wonder' after seeing the midnight flowers bloom for the first time when he was eight. It was a childish name, but he kept it anyways, not wanting to change it. His link to the past. 

The midnight flowers only bloomed at night, and when they did their soft, moonlight-colored petals held secrets, any secret you could wish for. Nobody in the castle knew this, George had only figured it out when he was a child. He would sit along the many rows of them and ask them questions, only they answered. Their voices were like a hushed whisper in the breeze. You could ask them any of your heart questions, as long as you could handle the answer. 

He knew of one person that he told this too. Not his father, no, his father would not understand. He told it to his old childhood friend, a girl named Alyssa. She was the only one he had trusted with this secret. She had told her brothers Asher and Clay about it, who joined them in the viewing the next night. Despite Georges protests, Asher wanted a flower for himself and plucked one from the earth. The next morning he went missing, and their family left back the neighboring kingdom, ending their stay, in search for him. 

George missed them dearly, specifically Alyssa. He believed her to be the one, even though she was the second child of the royal house of Bryce, with Clay being the eldest. He had loved her, even though he was young and foolish. 

He snapped out of his memory, noticing how Dream had stopped them at the wall. The roses full bloom surrounded them, their red petals the color of blood. The mossy stone wall towered over the two of them, quite intimidating. He sat them down in the grass, reaching into his pocket for something. He fished out a napkin the color of ivory, gold thread laced within each of the visible corners.

George felt reckless, sneaking out of the ball with a masked stranger that he had only met hours prior. But the exhilarating feeling he got while around Dream- it felt almost perfect. Dream unfolded the napkin, pulling out mini cakes that he had snuck from the buffet table. He winked at George as he handed him one, taking a bite from his own. The two of them laid back against the mossy stone wall, exhaling in relief. It wasn't even midnight and George was already exhausted. All he wanted to do was lay back in the grass and take off his mask. But he couldn't, could he? Dream didn't know who he was, and if he did would he treat him with the same affection or make up a lame excuse to go back to the ball. George didn't want to risk it, didn't want to ruin this perfect night. 

The clock began to chime, and as George listened he realized that it was midnight. He had spent the whole night with this masked man. 

The midnight flowers.

George scrambled to hide them from view, making a fool of himself. He started to babble, trying to distract Dream from what he was making a sore attempt at hiding. He knew that Dream could probably see them through the him. Dreams eyes suddenly widened and George knew he could see them. George squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out everything and reverse the moment.

"George..." Dream whispered in wonder as he grabbed for his hand. George let him grab it, barely prying his eyes open. Dream looked beautiful, bathed in the pale glow of the flowers.

The Midnight flowers continued to bloom around them. They lite up the garden in a white light, Dream looked around him. George began to search Dreams eyes through the holes of his mask, trying to read the emotion within them. Dream kept turning to look around the two of them, in shock or wonder. George reached up to cup his face, holding his face still. Dreams attention immediately snapped to him, their eyes locking.

The severity of his eyes was unyielding, the stare so deep George had to look away. "Dream..." he started, but was cut off by the angelic voice of Dream.

"George do you know how long it has been since I've seen these..." George looked back at him, forgetting that he did not know who George was, whos face was behind the mask. George shook his head. "Did you know that these were here?" Dream asked, locking eyes with George again. This time they were gentle, lovable. George was at a loss for words. He confided in a nod, sticking with the silent answer. Dream looked back to the flowers while George stared at him. The sharp lines of his face were more defined, a longing urge to trace them in the glow overtook George.

George wanted to dance with him, in the moment right now, in the glow of the flowers he wanted to dance to the non-existent music. Dream must have to noticed his staring because he peeled his eyes away from the flowers to look at George. The light reflected off of the small emeralds embedded on his mask. He smiled, grabbing Georges hand and pulling him up from where he sat on the earth. 

"Before the music dies, dance with me." George blurted, immediately covering his hand over his mouth. Dream turned and looked at him thoughtfully before chuckling and moving back towards George. He brought their hand that was connected over the shoulder, his hand falling into place at Georges waist. George gasped and looked down at the intimate touch. Dream freed his hand to lift Georges chin upward, forcing him to look him in the eyes. He rest his hand back to its position and began to sway to the faint music that floated from the ballroom all the way through the gardens. The midnight flowers began to fold in on themselves, the white-purplish petals crumpling.

The two of them continued dancing, eyes locked within their own. What would happen after the next nights, George dared to think. He remembered reading in one of his history books that on the final night each person as they were leaving would stand atop the grand staircase and remove their mask. He would try to be the last to leave, try to stay behind this made up persona a little while longer. He didn't want the magic to end. Although he was quite wager to see who was behind the mask of his new-what was he to him. Friend? Something more? It didn't matter, all he needed to know was who lurked behind that green bejeweled mask and unbuttoned white shirt. 

He wanted to tear the shirt from his body. Rip the fabric covering the map of this man. He knew he should not be thinking of this, he was a prince, he was not allowed to think these thought about a man, let alone a stranger. But this person before him, who chose to dance to the faint music with him, did not feel like a stranger. He wanted to spend the night with this person, lay on the ground and gaze up at the stars with him until they fall asleep. It need not be intimate but rather just a gesture. I need to put this in my book, George noted to himself, tucking the thought into his reminders.

Who he really wanted to see take off their mask was Clay. They hadn't seen each other for 5 years since his family had come to tie the union between the two kingdoms. Though many rumors still floated through the servants, mainly the traveling ones who were in charge of the trades. He had women always following in his wake, always hooking up with them in the most bizarre of places.

Who would he catch the foreign prince with this time, George thought to himself as him and Dream swayed under the stars. Minutes, maybe hours pass with them under the diamond sky before they laid down in the grass, pointing out the constellations that they could see. 

The night was absolutely perfect, and when they left to go to their separate quarters for the night, George to his own room and Dream to the guest rooms where all of the foreign people would be staying over the next few days.

Even though he hated these masquerade balls, he was exited for tomorrow.

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He needed to socialize with the others over the next few days. It was unfair to only single out one person, this was a ball for goodness sakes. And one that happened once every hundred years. The next time that this would happen, he would have passed onto the grave, his ancestors ruling the kingdom with a crown prince of their own. But that was a long time from now. By then he would have been king and then not, back to how he began.

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Today there would be no announcements of the people, we were expected to remember who everyone was. Thankfully he paid somewhat attention to the Hall Master when he had quickly said names yesterday. As he made his way down the stairs, he tested his mind to see if he remembered some faces. 

As he neared the end of the stairs he saw a sandy colored head leave through the doors to the garden. Dream. George scurried down the rest of the stairs he weaved his way through the crowd. He reached the glass doors and swung them open, walking out into the morning air. He searched around, taking another step to see further. There was nobody there, and Dream the Giant would not be able to hide behind the hedges. 

Suddenly he felt a finger tap his shoulder. George spun around faster then the jousters could knock each other off. (I wanted to say faster then Dream could speedrun but that is in the far future from when this takes place.) His mask began to fall off and George shoved his hand against his face, this would be bad. He began to tie it but his fingers kept stumbling over the knot in the back.

"Here let me help." the shoulder tapper said, moving back behind him and reaching up to tie the strands. Dream. The mask slipped a little more as he grasped the strands, George holding it with all of his dignity. His thumb brushed Georges ear for a split second, sending shivers down his spine. George, he scolded himself, stop. "And I'm alllllll...Done!" he said, drawing out the 'L'. He stepped back and admired his handiwork before walking back towards the stone wall next to the doors.

"Where were you?" George asked, joining him on the wall. 

"Oh," he said, letting out a small chuckle. "I was behind the door and I knew that you would follow me, I just wanted alone time."

"Oh..." he said, turning his head so he could see Dreams face. He was even more beautiful today, he thought to himself, and I didn't even know that it was possible. His faint curls turned golden in the morning light, his eyes a little more lime colored. Today he had small emeralds over the arch of his brow, and some along his jaw. It was not too much as to give off the look of overwhelming, but enough to get off the look of regal. He looked like a prince, which said a lot considering George was actually a prince. Dreams eyes swirled with fire, burning, and yet cold like ice, they glowed like the sun, although they seemed soft like grass covered in the fresh morning dew. He wondered what magic Dream might posses, it was a ruse thing to ask seeing as the peasants barely posses one element, let alone control it. And as you go up on the social ladder, the more control they seem to have, because of the classes that money could buy. Being royalty, George possessed it all, which was rather annoying seeing with his lack of interest in the subject. When they turned 20 and break through the single barrier, you were told to pick one to master, so what would George choose seeing as he hadn't touched it in over 10 years. And what was this mystery mans magic, did he have multiple? George shook his head, clearing it of the thoughts. "Wait, why did you want alone time?" He stared into those intoxicating eyes. 

It was now Dreams turn to stare at him. He gripped his chin with his hand, tilting it up. He searched Georges eyes before leaning down and bringing his lips mere centimeters away. Georges heart felt like it was doing it's own little tap dance in his chest, the wanting was strong, he wanted to kiss him so badly right now. George felt his face heat up at the thought. A smile pulled at Dreams lips as he dropped Georges chin, leaning back against the wall. "You thought I was going to kiss you, didn't you." George just nodded, his face burning even more. Dream slightly turned his head to see the action. "Did you want me to kiss you though" George nodded again, his back still pressed firmly against the stone bricks. "I'll keep that in mind for later." was all Dream said as he stalked back inside through the tall glass doors, leaving Georges heart behind.

Oh no he did not just do that, George thought to himself, leaning down and covering his face with his hands. The audacity of this masked man, how could he do that and then just...leave him! 

George stormed in through the glass doors, only stopping when he  heard a voice come from next to him. He turned, seeing a girl in slight stature, with pink hair. It wasn't weird seeing her with hair the color of pink lady apples that grew in the garden- no, it was  so subtle that it worked, her pink gown matching in color. Her white mask, studded with a gem he had never seen before was the only contrast, her pink eyes pulling the look together near perfectly.

"Hi," she says with a slight smile. A faint memory tickled at his brain, what was her name again? Nila? Nakela? Nahemia? "My names Nihachu." she says, thrusting her hand out towards him. Ah that was her name. He shook her hand rather reluctantly, normally woman ay court were not so- what was the word- outgoing.

"I'm Georgenotfound." He says, letting go of her hand. . "How are you enjoying the masquerade so far?"
 
 
"Oh, it is quite beautiful." she replied rather shyly, looking around the room. Her pink eyes glittered in the candle light, illuminating more of her features. "Actually, I have a question for you George." his heart began to speed up, was it because he used his real name-did she know who he was..."Do you know more about the man who called himself 'Wilbur Soot'? It's a weird name but he did catch my eye yesterday." she turned back towards him, looking George directly in the eyes.
 
 
"Oh, no I don't know anything about him actually but I do know that he should be right..." George looked around, trying to spot out where he stood... Ah! "right over there." he says, pointing to where he stood next to the potted plant, glaring at someone who George faintly remembered to be called 'Jared' or something like that.
 
 
Nihachu said her quick thanks before scurrying across to where Wilbur was. Oh how cute the clueless were.

Nihachus dress ^^^

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From where he stood against the wall, near the great window, he could see almost everything. The window took up the whole wall, which for others would be near three floors high- but when building the castle, his old friends’ ancestors had been a fan of vaulted ceilings.

So here he stood on the slightly heightened floor, watching the rest of the party goers introduce themselves, to ones they hadn’t talked to before while others clung to the ones they claimed theirs. It was quite a mesmerizing act, a trance of swaying feet, swirls of color and feathers flying. What amazed him most was the variety of masks; some embedded with expensive jewels, some with colored feathers and some covered with glitter. The dresses, although some were as bedazzled as much as their masks, most were plain and simple, meant to draw attention to the faces of the wearers.

The paper faces were on parade, the reds, golds, blues and purples, the sparkle, the shine, the shimmer and glimmer. The swirls of fabric, the tapping of shoes...

Everyone was lost in the sound of the music, the time unaware. But not for him- no, he knew exactly what was going on. As he glanced at his miniature water clock, quickly calculating how much time he needed before he would strike. This was an act meant for no other man, for no other man was as skilled as he, as skilled as-

The Blade.

George was still scouting out Dream when another voice came next to him. This one he recognized right away, after many hours avoiding him at the jousts and tournaments hosted for the knights- although he most likely wouldn't recognize him.

“Hiya there!” the boy said with a wave, his friend who was practically attached to him unsurprisingly lurking behind his shoulder.

Already starting to get socially drained, George mustered up a reply.

"My name is Tommyinnit, and this over 'ere," he said, pointing over his shoulder to his friend, his heavy accent tripping and marking him from Meloria, "is Tubbo."

George nodded to the two of them, their energy already making him want to leave- but no. He was the prince. He could muster up a few words without being a coward and ditching it. "Have you found anyone interesting yet?" he asked, already regretting his choice of words after inspecting them~ they were most obviously children.

"Nah," Tommy answered, obviously the talker of the two. "I'm just here to cause trouble and ruin relationships." 

"Wow- um, have fun I guess?" 

"We will, and uh Tommy I think I found our next victim." Tubbo said as he pointed to where Wilbur and Nihachu stood. Welp I think this is where I take my leave, George thought to himself as he scooted away towards the great window. 

As he wandered around the perimeter of the room he noted down who he would talk to and who he wouldn't. And, oh, where was that Dream. He was as addicting as a drug, as watching the jousts, as writing his books, as reading the stories from others, as- well he just couldn't go without him for long. As he maneuvered through the sweaty bodies, some clustered against the walls, some stranded alone with a tall glasses balanced between their fingers. 

Someone stood on the platform, their pink pig mask glittering against the morning light flowing through the large pane of glass. They seemed to give off a sense of danger, causing most people to avoid them but- but George was drawn to this mystery, almost like he was drawn to Dream. As he walked closer with his head held high he started to notice the small details. Things like how it looked as thought he had a slight limp, his long pink braid flowing down his back- longer than most would keep it and in a simple style unlike the fancy hair styles the others wore for the masquerade. 

He was so simple, so different from the others, all of his clothes plain, well except for his glittering and shining pig mask and his robe in the style of a traditional kings robe. The loose white shirt he wore reminded George of a pirate, his tight black pants and red waist sash not helping much to defy the claim. It was an outfit like no other. It set him apart, the difference such a wide range.

As George approached him he noticed even more, how he had his eye trained on something to the left, a person most likely- or a moving object seeing as his eyes would move ever so slightly. It was such a small gesture, unnoticed to the untrained eye, but George as prince had to notice everything- if he didn't there could be death, like what happened last year.

As he neared a mere 4 feet away he felt something tug on him. As he turned around to swat them away he noticed how the pig man was staring behind him. George turned, nearly knocking them over. "Dream?"

"George we've got to go...now." George was so confused, what was he talking about?

"Why? What do you mean?"

"I'll explain later." was all he said as he began to pull George away. George took one last look over his shoulder to the pig-masked man behind him who- who was now staring directly at George.

"Dream..." he whispered as he got pulled through the crowd, unaware that this simple act could ruin this week of masquerade.

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He led him through the winding halls, the stone scratching against Georges black shirt. As they neared what would be the opposite side of the castle, Dream took him into the servants passage ways, a place where George had been banned from after sneaking into once before. It was hard for the two of them to fit side by side, so Dream opted so pull George behind him, his arm reaching back to grab his hand. Georges mind was too jumbled up to notice the small sentimental act, too confused to notice Dreams cheeks slightly flush when he intertwined their fingers as he pulled George behind him.

They ran through the winding paths until they found someplace secluded, dark, and silent. "Dream," George yelled in an angry haze, Dream shushed him. "what the fuck are you doing?!" he whispered into the open crisp air. Dream took a look over each of his shoulders before leaning down to whisper in Georges ear, his hands bracing himself against the wall, his hot breath sending electric shocks down Georges spine.

"George I'm going to tell you something but you have to promise not to freak out." George nodded, unable to make any noise. "That man is 'The Blade' and he's here for me." George let out a startled gasp but was quickly hushed by Dream covering his mouth with his hand. The Blade. He was the most notorious assassin of the time, and was known to never fail. It was impossible to find him; you had to go through a series of steps to even give him a 'job' or target per say. Let alone to be the target~ you were practically dead.

"Dream..." he tried to whisper through Dreams smothering hand. He looked up into those green hues. The stare wasn't hard~ no, it was soft, and it gazed up and down his body like a soft caress. His hand shifted as he stroked Georges cheek with his thumb. Georges breaths became shallow, his face heating. Dream leaned down as if to whisper something but his teeth nipped at Georges ear. "Dream." George practically moaned, sending a deep chuckle through the friend. This was wrong on so many levels but at the same time it felt so right. 

Dream brushed his teeth against his his ear again, this time lowering his hand to Georges waist. George arched into him- not on purpose, no, but on instinct. He wanted him. He wanted to shove his lips against Dreams, wanted to intertwine his fingers within those golden locks, wanted to feel Dreams hands on his body. Oh he wanted him so so badly.

As Dreams began to pull back from where his head had been near Georges ear, George grabbed his head and shoved their lips together. The kiss sent shivers down his spine, burning, and yet a blazing sort of cold. 

So there they stood in one of the servant passage ways, George pressed against the cold stone with Dream leaning against the wall. It was a tight fit, their bodies crushed against each other. The two of them were gasping for air, sweat plastered on their foreheads. George tilted his head back to get a better look at Dream. His face was flushed, eyes searching Georges own, bouncy golden hair intertwined with Georges fingers. His green eyes were dark, the emeralds on his mask shining even more. George had to check that his own mask was on before leaning in for another kiss. Just before their lips collided in a series of sparks, footsteps sounded from down the hall.

Dream heard it to, for he grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the opposite direction. The foot steps seemed to follow them. It was nerve racking almost, but as George knew that only few people could navigate these halls, he decided to risk fate. 

He dropped Dreams hand, earning a rather frightened look from the- friend. George turned around, motioning for Dream to stay put as he went down the hall to where he knew the follower was.

"All guests should be in the ballroom. All guests are not allowed in this section of the castle- let alone these passageways." The male servant rambled on from where he stood in front of him. Luckily it was just at a corner, meaning the servant was just out of Dreams view. George turned, giving Dream one last look before turning back to the confused man.

As George lifted up his mask, in a quick motion, he saw the mans face change with realization forming over it. "Oh- oh my. You see I was just following protocol and- I- I didn't-" he scrambled on as George placed his mask back onto his face. He shushed the worried man, not wanting to ruin his false identity to Dream. The man seemed to understand as well; I mean, who would voluntarily kiss- talk to the stuck up prince. 

He turned to Dream and sped-walked back towards him, leaving the man confused and startled. "What happened back there." Dream asked as they continued to walk through the tight halls.

George tilted his head to the side to look at the... friend, studying his features. "I guess he was just startled by my beauty." he shrugged. 

Dream gave a slight laugh. "Who knew, now you're just raising my expectations. I didn't even get to see his reaction." Dream pouted, a look that on others might be petty but on him it was- actually cute. George blushed and continued walking. Where the man had stood, out of Dreams view, was on purpose. He knew Dream wasn't the type of person to do it, but he had heard stories of people asking, then bribing, the servants who had seen some of the mask-wearers faces.

"How do we get out of here anyway." George asked after minutes of mindless wandering.

"Ummm..." Dream began to look around, "you look for the little clues." George began to join him in looking- but he still didn't really understand what he was looking for until Dream yelled out a small aha! He swung open a door and as George peered out of it, his mind clicked and he knew where they were.

"This way," he murmured, grabbing Dreams hand as he began to pull them along. The amount of hallways in this place is crazy, George thought to himself for about the one-millionth time in his lifetime of living here. It was a big castle, one of the biggest compared to those of the surrounding kingdoms. George knew they were close but Dream knew it too. A scream cut out from not too far ahead- sending shocks through the both of them. They exchanged looks before breaking out in a sprint. 

A large crowd was gathered around something, whispers and sniffles floated about the room, filling the tearful silence. Both him and Dream began asking around, confused. Nobody answered but their questions were answered when Tommy pointed towards the middle of the circle. Dream and George locked eyes before pushing through the ever growing crowd.

Punz.

His body lay sprawled across the white marble- his body twisted in all the wrong angles. George choked on the lump in his throat, a small sob breaking through the hand muffled over his mouth. The blood began to pool around him- eating up around his mask that lay a few feet away on the ground. George looked up from the destroyed body that lay on the ground to the people surrounding it. 

Nihachu was shaking, accompanied why Wilbur Soot, who stood to her left rubbing comforting circles across her back. George watched as a tear slid down his face, but Wilbur quickly wiped it away. 

Dream spoke into the melancholy air, softly, and yet his voice was filled with a sense of stern sharp authority, "Who did this." some people looked up towards him, some kept their eyes down to the floor, but nobody answered. He began to look around the room, "Who did this." he spoke louder. All eyes were upon him now, he looked each person individually. A girl shuffled forward, looking Dream directly in the eyes, she stood with preternatural stillness, almost infuriating so. "Do you know of something?" he asked her, his words oozed with power- authority.

"Yes." was all she said, and as she spook you could hear how carefully chosen her words were. "I was the one who found him like this- I can tell you what I saw."

Chapter Text

"Well..." he pushed after still not getting an answer from the woman.

"I was with my companion, Callahan." she gestured towards the man beside her. That was the person I ran into yesterday, George thought to himself, so what did he have to do with this. "We noticed how Punz left the ballroom and didn't pay much mind to it until someone else went after him. Normally I personally would think of this as a poorly planned mysterious meetup but the way the second man held himself led me feeling unsettled. I told Callahan about this feeling and he said that we should go just to make sure nothing bad was going on. By the time we got here Punz was already dead and the man was gone."

Dream was staring at her, you could practically see the gears in his head turning and clicking. "So who screamed."

"Oh that was me." she said with a small blush flying to her cheeks. 

"Well," Dream started as he began to pace the halls. As he turned back towards the group he began to talk once again. "We should split up to find this mystery man, what did he look like by the way, we can use as many clues as possible."

"I didn't see much of him but he had pink hair... long pink hair, in a braid that snaked down his back."

“That’s not much of a description but I can work with that, thank you.” Dream turned to the rest, meeting each in the eye once again. “Please, divide yourselves into groups of three, once divided, George and I will give each of you places to search.”

Immediately, the clueless nobles started shuffling around the hallway, finding their people, and divided amongst each other. Each group formed themselves into a line and presented themselves in front of George and Dream.

The first group was three young boys by the names of Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo. George was the one to assign them to search the ballroom, make sure he did not circle back. George for one, knew that two of the three of them would not be of much use.

As the groups went on, George made small notes in his head on who was in which group:

The second group was Wilbur, Nihachu, and Eret.

Third group was Quackity, Schlatt, and Karl Jacobs.

Fourth group was Skeppy, Badboyhalo, and Captain Puffy.

Fifth group was Awesamdude, Fundy, and HBomb.

Sixth group was Callahan, Alyssa, and Ponk.

Fifth group was Antfrost, Philza, and Slimecicle

Sixth group was Jack Manifold, Purpled, and Foolish Gamers

Seventh group was Conner, Vikkstar, and LazarBeam,it was Lazar who insisted on bringing Hannah Rose along with them

As Dream and George started to turn to go to the left wing someone tapped on their shoulder. “Hey guys, I’m with you.” They said, linking arms with the two of them.

Dream smiled, “Hi Sapnap.” Georges eyes darted between the two of them, calculating. George reached his hand out towards ‘Sapnap’. Instead of taking it, he pulled George into a sloppy hug, earning an oof from the small man.

“Uh, what was your name again? I heard Snapmap.” George said with a smile. He knew exactly what his name was, but poking fun never really hurt anyone did it?

“Oy,” he said, pulling away from George. Dream howled with laughter and they continued to walk down the long corridor. 

"Well, I no-longer trust Dream with finding directions but luckily we have me." George said with a smile and a wink. "I know how to get anywhere and everywhere when it has to do with this castle- ," he stopped in his tracks when Sapnap stifled a laugh. He pointed a finger dangerously towards him. "and that's not a lie."

"Oh, yeah, sure, you didn't seem to know where we were going when wandering the gardens yesterday."

"Other way around sweetheart, plus it was cute seeing you pretend to know what you were doing." 

Dream hummed in response, dragging them further along the corridor. "So where are we going cutie." Sapnap said as he began to swing while still linked between Dream and George. 

"Well, " George said, beginning to skip along with the obviously younger man. "We have to take a left, walk a few paces, take a right, go up the stairs, second arch on the left, then up a couple more stairs, then we are there." He beamed up at the confused men. "Also, Samsung, your mask is slipping." the boy immediately stopped in his tracks and went to fasten the tie. George hadn't noticed it before, the intricate details on the boys mask. It shinned like glitter and had a single red feather, brighter than any he'd seen before, jutting out of the left corner. The ruby's embedded across the top of his right eye, down his nose under his left eye shone like a freshly cleaned diamond. "Wow I love your mask." he couldn't help but say aloud when Sapnap ran to catch up with them, his mask tied properly back on his face. 

"Oh- uh, thanks I guess."

Chapter Text

As they walked through the halls, George couldn’t help but feel quite anxious. Yes, he lived here and every twist and turn was filled with overwhelming familiarity, but he couldn’t help the thoughts gnawing at his brain. He knew why Punz was dead... and he knew for certain who did it.

It was with no doubt that Punz was dead because he had a slight resemblance to Dream. It wasn’t much, but the color of their hair was strikingly similar, both having the same golden touch to the ends of their hair. As George began to pick at the similarities between them he saw the same green mask that both wore, same color but not at all the same design. It was a miracle, one could say, that one was dead and not the other. Without a doubt, soon there would be talk of the dead noble, and George couldn't help but cringe inwardly at himself as he began to write a speech in his head that he would say to Luke's parents.

George didn't know why he wasn't as sad as he should be, perhaps he was in shock. No, he was good at taking things in, then why wasn't he feeling bad about the death of the old 'family friend'. Well- that was a lie. He never truly liked Luke and his family, they were the stuck-up type, using their role in society to an advantage against those below them, a crude act really. A flick of memory sparks in Georges head, a memory where Luke and his friends had almost drowned a sickly commoner boy with their magic after he refused to "fetch a bucket of water for them". George had almost grown sick with disgust at his former friend, wanted to strip him of his title and send him below those he hated so much, make him realize what it feels to be treated like you're nothing. 

The King and Queen decided against what George had suggested, later giving him a less harsh punishment, not a punishment at all but a mere warning.

Perhaps George should thank the mystery killer for taking out someone who was a danger for society. Or perhaps he should just move on and make sure that nobody else got killed in this- this- assassination? What were his parents thinking though. Without a doubt word had traveled in this past hour to where his parents had been staying in the summer home that one of the nobles sons had been brutally murdered on one of the most sacred and respected nights in centuries. Word traveled through the kingdom faster than anyone had thought possible, nobody knew how everyone seemed to know everything five minutes after it happens. It was almost like a professional game of telephone.

Dream gazed towards George, he could practically see the gears turning and turning in his head, see the clockwork work in his brain. It was wonderous how clueless of the things around them people became when they were lost in thought Sapnap was babbling to himself, Dream not listening and George not even hearing his useless words. It was almost strange how George managed to walk through the halls without thought, not paying attention to the sconces on the walls as he practically swung around corners. About to hit one for the fifth time, Dream lunged forward to block his head from ramming into the metal holders, placing his hand between the soft skin of Georges forehead and the cold metal of the sconce. Georges eyes flicked to his own, immediately snapping out of his daze. He stepped back, placing his own hand to where Dreams hand had been mere seconds ago.

"You just like saved me from getting my head bashed inwards." 

"I was actually saving the sconce," Dream said, raising his hand to knock on Georges head, "yup, solid as a rock." George blushed furiously, swatting Dreams hand away from his face as he continued walking. Sapnap laughed from ahead of them.

"You really would have torn that from the wall Georgie."

George scoffs "I would not- hey! Don't call me Georgie."

"Whatever you say Georgie Poo." Sapnap makes kissy faces his way. "Oh and Georgie are we almost there, this is tiring and I wanna get to searching so my investigating skills can come to use."

George began to look around the hall they were in, it looked like every other to he went to his last resort. He walked over to the nearest corner, knocking on the stones and Dream and Sapnap walked towards him. As soon as he found what he was looking for he began to pull out the brick, a folded piece of paper coming out  along with in. He shifted the stone back into place and carefully worked on unfolding the dingy paper. 

"A map of this part of the castle." George said to the peering eyes over his shoulder.

"Interesting but where are we."

He pointed. "We're here so one more turn and we should be there."

"Perfect." Sapnap says as he starts to hop off towards the wrong direction.

"Wrong way shorty." Dream calls out for him. 

"I knew that." Sapnap calls back before skipping back towards them and making the correct turn.

"Ugh, we've been searching for so long." Sapnap drawled, walking out of the sixth room towards where Dream and George were. "I think it's time to go back, being in here makes my mask sweaty."

George makes a disgusted noise before turning towards the door, "First of all: ew why is your mask sweaty and second of all, I think we should start to head back as well." Dream nods and leads them back down towards the hall, George and Sapnap following in suit.

The trio made there way through the halls for the second time today, relishing the feeling of being out of those suffocating rooms. Murmuring came from behind them, from where they had been previous, and before they knew it Quack boy Schlatt and Karl something were coming their way, laughter filling the hall. Dream and George nodded to each other before speed-walking away, making sure to not look back in fear of being noticed and called over. Sapnap didn't seem to get the memo because he stood there and walked the two of them practically run away, arms pumping like one of the old women in the village power-walking, while he waited for the group.

A silly situation, really.

Eventually, Dream and George made it to the ball room, where Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, Nihachu, and Eret sat in a circle, playing this hand game while chanting a highly off tune song that included the words quack-dilly-o-so. As the two boys enter everybody stops their game and looks up towards them. "Hi Dream." Tubbo says before turning back towards the group. George begins counting heads, messing up a few times before realizing there was a missing head.

"Where's Wilbur." he asks, walking towards the group in the middle of the ballroom.

"Oh, he went to use the loo." Tommy says, earning a look from Ranboo. "What?!"

"Oh, I'm using the loo hohoho." Ranboo mimics in an insulting accent. George and Eret scoff and the sour attempt.

"Oh yeah, and I'm going to the bathroom." Tommy mimics back, although his fake accent wasn't so bad. Ranboo sticks his tongue out at Tommy as he drops the accent. "My kingdom is so much better because we don't say bathroom." Before anyone had time to blink Tommy and Ranboo were arguing, Tubbo trying to break them up as Tommy went into the topic of women.

As they argue, the rest of the people filter in from behind, everyone but Hannah and Wilbur. 

A scream sounds from the other direction, everyone turning their heads towards the sudden noise. Everyone starts to walk towards the sound, slowly and carefully, maybe wary because the screamer is unknown, or maybe afraid of the cause. Hannah comes tumbling into the room, dress torn at her knees, blood a film over a side of her face, knees wobbling with effort. Her mask is discarded somewhere else, her hair creating a slightly messy halo around her head. Alyssa and Niki run to her, Dream and George following. The girls catch her before she collapses onto the white marble floor, setting her down gently. 

"What happened." Niki asks, creating soothing circles across her back.

"I was just trying to find Wilbur, I didn't mean to do anything." tears started to stream down her face. "They took me, they snatched me from the hallway and put a necklace on my neck-" George could feel Dreams comforting presence behind him as he studied the girl who was a mere five feet away. There was indeed a necklace around her neck, pulsing red and the size of a baby's fist. " and, and then they asked me about Clay. I don't even know who that is." With that, Alyssa turned towards George, worry laced in her gaze. George soon realized that it wasn't him she was looking at, he turned to Dream who stood there looking at her right back, eyes looking like they would pop out of his head. 

Whatever was going to happen next, wasn't good. 

And they were not close to being prepared.

Chapter Text

George ran through the halls, shoes sliding across the marble. What was to happen to these people that he no doubt knew. At least the TommyInnit boy managed to keep people calm for the most part, making fun of the people from Endovier's accents only to get mocked right back. It was quite easy to tell them apart, the Melorians sounding more regal whereas the Endovirians butchered the English language. George skirted around the corner, catching himself as he almost fell.

The Blade was after him.

All he did was go out of the suffocating ballroom for some air, needed some sort of escape from the walls that seemed to get closer and closer with each passing minute. 

He knew he was exaggerating, But he did not care.

George didn't know when he started running from the pink blur, but when grabbing hands reached out for him he knew he was in trouble. 

All he had to do was make it to the ballroom.

Then he was safe... right?

He was almost there, just one more turn. He could see Dream now, standing and pacing around the sleeping bodies that were sprawled across the floor, nobody wanting to go alone to their rooms and risk kidnapping- or worse. A hand brushed his back, grabbing at something. "Dream!" he yelled, desperate for someone to help him. Dream turned, worry lacing his face. He went to grab George, and pulled him into the ballroom. Together they dashed across bodies. A hand grabbed at Georges back once again, and George turned around, watching the pink blur disappear once again. 

He turned towards Dream, heavy breaths mingling in the air. Dream turned towards him too, the slight worry on his face twisting into something else. Shock.

He took a step back.

And George knew what had happened in those last seconds that The Blade had disappeared. 

He looked down to the floor, Dream doing the same. His mask glittered in the moonlight that streamed through the massive window. 

George looked back up towards Dream, who was already walking away, a few words escaping his lips as he did. "Goodbye Prince George."

This was the very thing he had worried about. George sat in the far corner of the room, mask on, pure focus drifting through his mind. Candle float above the sleeping bodies, George conjuring up fire from the pit within him and keeping it steady as they lay asleep. It wasn't a hard task, but with these thoughts drifting in his head, a mere distraction towards them could send these candles drifting on invisible clouds crashing down on the bodies. 

Dream hated him, probably with his whole entire existence. 

It wasn't like George wanted to lie to him, that was the whole point of this week long masquerade, to hide who you are, to find some sort of escape from your life. And that's exactly what George did. He'd fallen in love with a masked man. Fallen in love with a faceless man that had no idea that the whole palace he'd walked through these past days, the whole castle and all those gardens, those midnight flowers, all of it belonged to him, the very person that would soon be crowned king whether he wanted to or not. 

But people didn't consider his feeling- no, they just saw that he had a crown on his head and immediately judged him, good or bad.

It was heartbreaking knowing that he couldn't have the life he'd wished for. Each night as a child, he would lie awake and wish upon that night star that he could be anyone else- just not a prince of the largest kingdom. It had its benefits, obviously, but it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth loosing yet another person he loved just because of his title.

Built up emotion and hatred pools out of him.

And he was so foolish as to think that this time it would be different. That Dream would be different.

But he was wrong.

Perhaps he should just let The Blade take him. Let him end this miserable life that others longed for.

It wasn't worth it, it wasn't worth any of it.

He just wanted Dream.

And although he had just met him, it seemed that their souls intertwined into something else.

He was foolish to think this, foolish to even consider that Dream was different.

He was done.

He.

Was.

Done.

George stands up, brushing off the dirt from his clothes and dropping his mask to the floor. Dream and Alyssa look up from where they were talking in the other corner, Dream looking back down and Alyssa staring after him with a strange look in her eyes. George snuffs out the candles, sending them back against the wall as he moves to leave the room. A tear slides down his cheek, that no doubt Alyssa could see. He gives her a sorrowful wave and walks out into the night, not caring what would happen to him.

The cold air bites at him, blowing away the tears that come flooding out. He just keeps walking. He walks to the midnight flowers and sits there. Bushes shifted near him. It was The Blade. He knew this and he was fully ready to let him take him.

Alyssa POV:

She runs towards where he was no doubt headed, his discarded mask in her hands. He was nowhere to be seen but he was definitely here.

Alyssa runs back towards Dream, shoes clopping against the marble but mysteriously still not waking anyone. "He's not there- Dream he's not there." Dream just shrugs, head dropping back into his lap. How- Alyssa takes off one of her shoes and hits him with it, his shocked face joining it and he swatted her off. She throws it at him. "How could you, how could you. You've known him for years and now you just let him walk into a death trap. Clay what the fuck is wrong with you. You know what you did hurt him, because if he did it to you, you would've done the same." She grabbed her shoe back from him, throwing the blue, sapphire-studded mask at him instead. "You need to fix this."

Dream looked towards her now, mask grasped tightly in his hands. "I really messed up." He stands up, looking down at his sister. "I need to find him."

Chapter Text

George POV: 

My eyes flutter open and I'm greeted by a bright light. It's near blinding so I have to shut my eyes once again. My face aches, my thoughts clouded. I try to get up from the chair, only to feel restraints pulling at my wrists. My head shoots to my hands, my head spins. I lay back again, instead peeling an eye open to look. Rope lines my wrists, and as far as I can tell, ankles as well. When I try to pull loose the rope scrapes against my skin, I hiss at the sharping pain brought with it.

There's not much in the room, not much of a room at all. There was a door, wooden, with bars strapped across it, no windows although there was a short pole and a potted plant. Ferns most likely. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, blood washing itself through my head. What happened to me. Where am I. Why am I tied up. What happened-

The thoughts swarm in my head, so focused on them, I completely miss the footsteps that sound from behind me. I try to look around to see the figure coming up behind me but the shapes mix and mash so it's all a blur. 

"What do you know of Clay?" The voice asks, blending in my head to sound like a monster. I go to scream, needing someone to come and save me but a hand covers my mouth with a cloth, slightly wet.

"Stupid King."

Dream runs through the halls, opening up any door he can find. The only place left to check is the dungeon, but that place always had creeped him out. The grabbing hands, the solemn voices calling to imaginary people. Luckily, the King and Queen were highly against that sort of thing and made sure to put the prisoners in another dungeon... far away from here. 

He takes a deep breath before flinging open the heavy wooden doors to each cell, doing a quick peek in before moving on to the next. They poke and prod at his fingers, splinters appearing out of nowhere, the metal on the doors cutting open his hands. It was all worth it though. George was worth it. Memories of their childhood fill his head, happy memories from before those flowers they had loved killed his younger brother Asher. George had witnessed Asher pick a flower, yelled at him afterwards for his foolishness. Dream could still hear his tiny voice screaming at his brother, his accent spilling to noises neither could comprehend. Alyssa had warned them both about what George had said about the flowers. But because tiny Asher didn't listen nor care he was dead, his mutilated body found swinging from a tree in the woods just outside of his castle. It still gave him nightmares to think about, seeing his brother hanging there as if he was swinging from the vines, his smile plastered to his face even in death, his organs spilling out onto the forest floor. Clay had been the one to find him. 

He would not let another person he loved die. Couldn't let another person he loved die. This was George, his childhood friend, and even though George had ignored him out of guilt which made Dream hate him, even though they hadn't talked in years- this was still the person he'd fallen in love with. 

The doors became less and less, and Dreams heart beat faster and faster. Where was he. It was the second last door, the second last door that was slightly cracked open. Dream neared it cautiously, the candle light flowing out of it that he snuffed out his own. He could feel that George was in here, feel at their souls became closer and closer. He takes a breath, steadying himself but barging the door open. The blade was standing over George, but as soon as the sudden movement appeared, he grabbed George and pressed a blade to his throat. 

George looked terrible, one of his eyes was swollen shut and his left leg was twisted at an odd angle. His breath was shaky and bruises coated him from head to toe as far as Dream could see. Something hurt in his chest, seeing George like that. Dream takes off his mask, wanting to be bare before this man so with some miracle he would let George go and take Dream instead. As long as George is alive, that's all that matters anymore. "Well hello Prince, it seems we meet again."

Dream looks between the two of them before choosing his next words. "It seems we have, and wow, you look worse than before, is that a gray hair I see?" The Blade scoffs, loosening up a bit. Perfect.

"Says the man who no doubt died his hair."

"No, no, no! These golden locks are all natural baby." The Blade smiles a little, a hateful smile but it's still there. "And look who's talking Mr. I-have-a-fake-arm. Are you going to kill that Prince so you can steal one of his and be Frankenstein."

"That's a good idea maybe I will." Dream takes a step closer and The Blade pushes the blade further against Georges throat, enough to draw blood which starts to trickle down his neck, joining the dirt there. George sways on his feet, practically slicing his own throat. When Dreams eyes flick too behind the pig-masked man, he turns as well, but not in time.

Alyssa shoots through the servants door and grabs the chair, hurling it onto The Blades head. He stumbles but regains his footing rather quick. He lets out an inhuman snarl, ready to leap at Alyssa who's pressed up against the wall. It was now or never. Dream grabs the sword from the ground where it had fallen and goes to attack. But steel meets steel and Dream has barely enough time to block the next attack. He manages to get a slice down The Blades face, cutting his mask it half. It falls to the floor with a clatter.

"Dave?" His best friend. The person who had told him no, he wasn't going to the masquerade, and that he would just stay alive for 100 more years and go to the next one. They both stop. As they meet eyes, Dave snarls and leaps past Clay to the hallway. He starts to go after him but Alyssa calls-

"Clay!" He turns towards her and sees the broken George laying in he lap. He looks worse than before but he's miraculously still awake. Dream picks him up like a princess, setting his priorities. 

George looks up to him now, a slight shift of his head and they're meeting eyes. He reaches his hand up to cup Dreams face, a tears slides down. Dreams doesn't care that he's crying now, doesn't care. As long as George was alive he didn't care about anything else. "Clay?" His head rolls back and he's asleep again. Dream stares at him for too long, his tears falling down his chin. Alyssa comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

"Come on, we need to get him help." Dream nods, waiting a little longer before turning to leave and meet the rest of the group. 

Chapter Text

Everyone swarms around the trio, words overlapping enough to give Dream a headache. The questions, so full of care and demand, made Dream want to leave the room all over again. Which is precisely what he did.

He looked towards Alyssa, who was still by his side supporting George's head, and the look in her eyes told him she wanted to do the same. They began to squirm towards the door, and Puffy must have seen their struggle so she tried to clear the way with as much effort as it was to carry George. As they passed her, so so close to the doors, she spoke above the roaring of the crowd, loud enough for them to hear. 

"I'm a medic." she said, looking around "Well, a medic in training. I think I can help if you let me." The swapped glance between Dream and Alyssa conveyed enough understanding, worry, and desperation. Puffy saw it too, and it was an answer of its own. "Ok, if we can just get to the gardens, we should be alright." Everyone was still fighting and roaring to see what was wrong with their prince. The ones who didn't belong to this kingdom of accents and pure good, were wondering what the hail happened down there and if 'The Pig Man' was dead or not. They didn't seem to understand the fact that a prince was dying in his arms, or the fact that 'The Pig Man' was one of the most trusted people in the Melorian court. 

It's crazy what flies past their heads. Dream swore under his breath as another person asked about Techno. It was as much of a fight not to punch them across the face as it was to scream and cry over George's body. Pain churned in his stomach with the restraint, sorrow swarming around in his head. If he could just get to the garden-

Everyone all of a sudden seemed to block the path more, even with the Melorians pushing them back. The walls seemed to be closing in, the clothes on his body too tight, the voices to loud... Everything was closing in on him, he was suffocating in here. The garden- It was so close yet so far. It seemed like thousands of steps away, getting further and further with each movement towards it. His breath hitched, coming out in shaggy clumps. Nobody noticed the sweat beading up at his forehead, the slight increase of his gasping for air, the flick of his head as he looked for a nearer exit. Someone screamed next to him, or across the room, he couldn't tell. Everyone seemed so move at this, and the only reason he didn't run to those evil glass doors was in fear for breaking George even more.

He practically broke those doors as he barreled through them, Puffy and Alyssa on his heels. The air immediately swarmed his lungs, opening them up from how they were collapsing inside his chest. He only stopped once he reached his spot. Laying Georges limp body on the grass, his heart broke as he surveyed the boy. His lifeless body lay immobile on the plush green, only his eyes flicking about behind those closed lids. Dreams heart broke at the sight, broke time and time again as George continued to not move. Scratches litter his face, cuts deep enough to cut bone cover his arms, the rope marks don't disappear from around his wrists. 

Only now does he notice the person saying his name. He turns to Alyssa, eyes vacant. "Breath," She whispers to him, "breathe." She glances over to where Puffy sits next to George, hands hovering over his body, eyes shut in concentration. The worry alone in her eyes sends him walking backwards towards the trunk of the tree. 

The weeping willow was in bloom around them, seeming have grown so much since when he was here last. The branches drifted so close to the grown, almost crying with him at Georges dying body. Dream wanders mindlessly towards the other side of the trunk, away from the three. Memories of a time long ago fly around him, memories of another lifetime, from the last day he had been here, before his brothers death when life was much simpler. His fingers drift over the words etched into the tree, words done messily from a stolen kitchen knife years ago when he was a child. George surprisingly had never found those words, the symbol.

The heart with their names inside. 

Visions swarmed around him as he was thrown through that tunnel, colors that he couldn't truly see flashed before his eyes as he fell through the tunnel with no bottom. But maybe he was falling up? No down. Up. Direction not found, time not here. He couldn't tell how long he's been falling, for there was not wind, no time, so walls. He was just simply there, moving through the pictures that appeared then disappeared as fast as they'd shown up.

It was giving him a slight headache but also not. It was like he was in his body... and yet... not, at the same time. He was just there. Not here, not a foot away. He wasn't a thing, he was just there, floating or falling. It was peaceful and yet overwhelming. Quiet and yet frustrating. 

He continued to float or fall or rise for what might've been hours or seconds. But, the lights stopped flashing, the pictures stopped appearing rapidly. It was all dark, and as he went to look up or down the light ahead shone so brightly, it was near blinding. It was a tether, and it was dragging his soul towards it. A voice swarmed around him, through him. Close and yet so far away. It was neither male or female, not deep or high. 

"George," it whispered, swarming his insides with a warm light. He gasped, frightened as instead of speaking it seemed to talk mind to mind. It wasn't frightening... just different. 

"Yes." 

"Welcome home George." home? "Yes, home. You've made it at last."

"Where is home?" 

"Up above, although most have to take the stairs, I can slide you past to the elevator." 

He let out a soft laugh and the golden thing seemed to laugh too. There was something tugging on his chest though, a lifeline almost. "What about Dream?"

"What about him?"

"What will happen to him if I go up."

A moment passes, curiosity stinging the air. "Nothing."

"I can't just leave him."

"Yes you can. We've been waiting for you for so long, George. You were the combination of power and kindness. Your arrival has been drifting across here for quite sometime. It took you so long to arrive at the stairs though, longer than normal."

"I can't leave him."

"And why is that."

"Because... Because-" What was he? Was he the half that made you complete? Was he the one person who understood? Was he your other half? Was he your soulmate? 

Yes.

He was.

"Because I love him." Because I love him and I can't let him suffer. I can't leave him because his half would be broken. Because our story is incomplete, it's yet to be finished. I love him. 

"You do know that if you leave now you won't be able to ever come back. Even if it doesn't work out, you will be sent away if you arrive at the stairs, you will be denied access at the gates."

He gulped a gulp that didn't exist. "Yes, I understand."

"Very well, I wish you the best of luck, George." 

The golden light swarmed him and it felt like it was suffocating him. He could see himself now, and cuts and bruises slashed themselves across his untouched skin, one by one. It hurt, like hell. He flew his head back and closed his eyes, an attempt to block out the pain. A final burst of light flashed behind his closed lids and he felt himself hit the earth.

Chapter Text

He placed the bright blue flowers into Georges hand, closing his friends fingers around the stems. George looked down at the bundle, tears glistening in his eyes. "Blue..." he looked back up, eyes locking. A singular tear slid down his face. "Did you remember that I can only see blue?" He nodded, looking down at the forget me nots. 

"Yeah." was all he said. He knew George skipped out on his nature studies, he knew George wouldn't be one to remember the certain type of flowers they were. But why did it hurt so bad. 

"I'll see you in a few weeks, so why am I crying." George wiped mindlessly at his eyes, a small laugh escaping his mouth. His parents had only told Alyssa and him about never returning, about after the disappearance of their son, they weren't coming back. He couldn't be the one to break the news to George that his parents didn't trust the kingdom. 

"Yeah, It's just a few weeks." He willed himself to laugh, which was harder to do than he had thought. He was trained in hiding his emotions, trained for court, a place where mess-ups couldn't happen. So why was he breaking now? 

George held the flowers to his chest with a smile. "Well... I've never really been good at goodbyes. You're much better at this than I am."

"It's okay, George. Like you said, it's only a few weeks." He pulled George into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around him with a squeeze. "Myosotis." he whispered into his ear, a small hope that George would understand what it meant. 

He stepped back, his parents calling his name. He began to walk backwards, looking back at the boy. George waved, the flowers dangling from his other hand. He waved back and turned around to walk better. He didn't mind the tears that slid down his face, didn't care whether or not George saw that carving on the opposite side of the tree trunk, didn't care what happened next.

And so he left with one look back. And he could see George staring down at those flowers.

At those forget me nots. 

Georges eyes flittered open, the light hitting at just the spot that blinded him. Two people were crouching over his, worry intertwining their features. He began to look around, groaning as he pushed himself onto his elbows. His limbs were leaden, more of an effort than one would have thought. The two woman looked over their shoulders then backed away from George. He did one hard blink before looking to where they had glanced.

Dream was like a shadow, the golden light a halo around his entire body. Their eyes locked and he knew. Dream lifted a hand to the top of his mask, pulling it towards the back of his head before letting it drop to the plush grass. George didn't break eye contact even when Dream- Clay walked over and knelt next to him. He grabbed Georges face in his hands and placed a kiss atop his forehead as if he, too, knew what had happened. A tear slid down Georges face, shutting his eyes tightly and gasping while he tried to contain his sobs. 

Clay kissed away each of the tears in turn, and everywhere his lips touched tingled with the faint ghost of him. George opened his eyes slowly and wrapped his arms around the man. Dream wrapped his arms around him too, and instead of the crushing weight of their last one, it was gentler as if welcoming him. As if it was soothing him, as if saying he understood. He had always understood. 

A whimpering sound came out of him, lips trembling so hard he had to bite down on his lip to keep the sound from coming out. Dream- Clay- Whoever he was, it didn't matter. As long as he was here, with him, everything was going to be okay. Everything was fine.

But that pushing feeling in his heart, that emptiness inside the back of his brain, that broken center in his heart.