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the tension in the room was getting thicker and thicker every second.
"just how can you be so stupid, your majesty?!"
That is the fifth time Schlatt Humiliated the king in front of the other nobles. the kings fist was getting tighter with every insult thrown at him. what the king doesnt know is that a specific knight was watching the whole scene with greeted teeth. that last sentence made his blood boiled. He couldnt handle another word from that wannabe duke and made a choice that would make his connection with the king separated change in a way that could never be the same.
george Swears if another fucking word comes out of that old hag he’ll drag him out from the castle himself. before he could even realize the sound of footsteps, a hand came slamming down the table and everyone had their widened eyes glued to a man dressed in netherite armor. a white porcelain mask decorated his face with a smiley face. Everyone seemed to snap back to reality when the masked man started talking.
"I am the kings Personal knight and whatever makes my king uncomfortable is my concern and this action is certainly not tolerated"
he is clearly trying to hold himself from lashing out to that old duke. but instead schlatt grinned widely.
“Arent you a brave litlle man? "his ram eyes giving a glow of evil, george needed to hold out the meeting or there would be chaos in no time. He quickly dismissed everyone with a sharp retort, cutting the conversation short.
once alone, he Pulls dream’s mask off and slapped him hard enough for it to bruise.
“What the hell dream?! why the fuck did you do that?! are you fucking crazy?! you cant just lash out at a duke! Yeah I know he's Shit but where the hell are your manners?!”
"Where the hell are my manners? You gotta be kidding me George, were you seriously gonna let him humiliate you infront of the others?! look, I know I didnt have my manners Just now, but I was just trying to help you!"
George knew the other was right but his ego was too high to accept it.
"Then stop! Stop trying to help me, you're just gonna make it worse. I didn't need your help, I never did! I knew how to solve it! Plus you dont even have the fucking audacity to talk or even scream to nobles without their explicit permission. and banging your hand in my meeting table is included!"
George huffed harshly out of breath while Pointing his finger to dream’s chest. he turned to face the door. "there's a different between you and me sir dream, I am a king while you're only a knight so just to your job and learn your place for once."
george could see him clenching his fists before the blonde spoke up, "I Just wanted to help-“he seethes seeming to hold out his anger.
"well it isnt needed” George spat before storming off.
______________
George woke up alone in his bed, the argument last night still fresh. he rolled his eyes unconsciously while remembering the conversation. How could he even have the guts to just slam the table and lashed out at a fucking duke? he groaned and sat up before heading to the bathroom, not wanting to think about it more deeply. The day started out normally. George strolled through the stone corridors of the castle, heading toward the dining room with routine ease. But as soon as he stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted.
His expression darkened almost immediately.
At the far end of the table, Dream sat with his usual blond locks slightly disheveled, eyes fixed on the food in front of him. His face was hardened, unreadable. Their eyes met for the briefest second before Dream stood abruptly, abandoning his half-finished breakfast. As he passed George, he leaned in slightly and muttered under his breath.
“I didn’t think you’d be comfortable eating together, your majesty.”
Then he was gone—disappearing from the dining room without another word.
George’s stomach turned, the tightness in his chest growing worse. The rest of his day moved on like clockwork—duties, appointments, smiling for the court when he didn’t feel like it. But nothing felt right. The absence of a certain blond knight at his side was starting to weigh on him more than he wanted to admit.
He wasn’t King George for nothing, though. If there was one thing he was known for, it was his stubbornness.
He continued the day as usual, but a frown seemed permanently carved into his face.
Meanwhile, Dream had taken to training with the knights.
He trained relentlessly, his movements sharp and swift, sending a clear message that he didn’t want to be approached. The others watched in silence, intimidated by his intensity. But what they didn’t know was that Dream hadn’t slept properly in days. The fallout with George plagued his thoughts, stuck on repeat in his head. It refused to leave him alone.
No matter how many times he swung his sword or pushed his limits, the ache in his chest didn’t fade.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Dream still hadn’t returned to his room with george. Instead, he wandered toward the knights quarters.
“Dude, finally decided to sleep here?” a familiar voice called out.
Sapnap stood nearby, arms crossed, black bandana in place, and his signature smug smile doing little to lift Dream’s mood.
Dream rolled his eyes, visibly irritated, but didn’t respond right away. Sapnap walked over and nudged him in the shoulder.
“Is it because of the meeting 3 days ago?” Sapnap asked, this time more softly, the smugness replaced by thinly veiled concern.
Dream scoffed. “Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Sir Sapnap.”
He immediately regretted the words.
“Sorry,” Dream muttered after a beat.
Sapnap sighed but gave a small, understanding smile. “It’s fine. You two fight once in a while, right?”
Dream didn’t respond. He just looked away, shoulders tight.
“Stop pulling yourself apart over it,” Sapnap added, voice more serious now. “You always make up eventually.”
“I hope so... God, I messed this up,” Dream groaned, pulling his hair in frustration.
sapnap shoved his hands away before long.
"Stop" sapnap states.
"You need to stop pulling your head off everytime youre trustrated"
Dream groaned.
"Not funny sapnapp" he took a glance at the other and dropped it to the floor, realizing Sapnap wasn't joking.
"Fine." Sapnap huffed tiredly. "well talk about this tomorrow, For now try to get some sleep" With that, he turned and left.
__________
The following days were quiet.
They settled into a rhythm—if it could be called that. Mornings began with silence. Dream would leave the dining hall the moment George entered. George buried himself in duties. Dream trained until his legs nearly gave out. Lunch. More duties. Dinner. Then silence again.
If Dream slept, it was barely. He often took night watch just to avoid going back to his room.
George pretended not to notice the exhaustion in his eyes.
It started like the others. George entered the dining room with quiet resignation, expecting the same thing as always—Dream walking out the second he stepped in.
But this time was different.
Dream didn’t leave. He stayed seated.
George’s breath caught in his throat. Tho his amusement did not last long, without a word, Dream stood up and approached him. George stiffened, closing his eyes instinctively. He knew what was coming. Dream was going to walk past him again. Maybe even mutter something cutting. He hated him now. He—
But instead, Dream leaned in and whispered, “Meet me at the forest after your meeting. The clearing near the meadows.”
___________
The clock struck 2:30, and George was barely paying attention to the council.
He couldn’t sit still—his fingers twitching, mind miles away. Schlatt hadn’t shown up today, which should’ve been a relief, but instead made him feel uneasy. His thoughts kept spiraling back to Dream’s words.
As soon as the meeting ended, George stood up, dismissed the council quickly, and left in a hurry. His footsteps grew faster as he neared the outer gates.
There, he found Sapnap and Quackity posted at the forest entrance.
“Good evening, Your Royal Highness,” Quackity greeted with a dramatic bow.
George huffed. “Oh, cut the formalities, Quackity.”
They both chuckled and moved aside to let him through.
He walked into the woods, heart pounding, the leaves crunching beneath his boots. The meadow clearing wasn’t far now.
Then a noise behind him made him freeze.
_________
Dream had finished training earlier than usual—around 2:20—and was already headed toward the forest. He’d told Sapnap and Quackity everything. Now all he could do was hope for the best.
Still, a strange feeling lingered in his chest—like something might go wrong.
When he reached the gate, Sapnap gave him a warm pat on the back.
“Good luck.”
Dream gave him a small smile in return and continued into the woods.
Through the trees, he spotted George’s familiar silhouette. Without thinking, he broke into a jog, rustling through the bushes noisily. He wanted to speak—to apologize. To say something that might fix what had been broken between them.
“George—” he called.
But before he could finish, an dagger came flying past him at full speed.
It missed his face by inches, slicing his cheek before embedding itself in a nearby tree. Dream instinctively threw his hands up in surrender, showing he was unarmed and meant no harm.
George’s eyes widened in horror as he realized who it was. He started to ramble, too shocked to form a full sentence.
“You… You freaking scared me,” he finally managed to say.
Silence fell again, the kind that dragged uncomfortably between two people who had once shared everything.
Dream was the first to break it.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
It was quiet for a few more moments. Neither of them moved. Wind stirred the tall grass in the meadow beyond, rustling leaves like a whisper begging someone to speak first.
Finally, George broke the silence.
“So... what did you want to talk about?”
Dream swallowed, eyes flicking to the cut on George’s arm—a wound that had long healed, but a reminder of everything that had gone wrong. His voice was quiet when he replied.
“Well... I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he murmured. His hand instinctively lifted, fingers brushing gently against the crook of George’s jaw—a soft, apologetic gesture.
For a moment, George’s face softened at the touch. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced with a stormy glare.
“That’s it?” he snapped, voice rising. “That’s what you wanted to talk about? You think I’ll forgive you because you say sorry?”
Dream flinched as George stepped back, fury brimming in his tone now.
“Hell! You humiliated me in front of the other nobles, Dream! You undermined me—made me look like a joke when I needed your support the most, And now you think a sorry is enough?”
“George—please.” Dream’s voice cracked slightly.
“I- I know I messed up. I know I was wrong. But can’t we just—can’t we try to be on good terms again? It’s been a week since we even talked. A week, George.”
George’s jaw clenched, his back turned slightly as if even looking at Dream was too much right now.
“Aren’t you tired of this already?” Dream continued, frustration bleeding into every word.
“I am. I’m tired of the silence, the distance. We’ve been through worse than this—why are we letting this tear us apart?”
George didn’t answer. Instead, he let out a sharp tsk and began walking toward the meadow without another word.
Dream’s breath hitched as he watched him go.
“Brilliant,” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. His emotions were spiraling again—anger, guilt, desperation all twisting together. He let out a tense huff and tried to ground himself.
If you keep letting your emotions take over, you’re going to make George hate you more, he thought bitterly.
For a second, he considered letting George go. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe this was what happened when you ruined something good.
But then his legs moved before his mind could stop them.
He started running—through the tall grass, toward the figure walking away with shoulders too stiff and steps too fast to be calm. He wasn’t going to let it end like this. Not without trying again.
Not without saying everything he hadn’t managed to say the first time.
____________
It had been hours since George and Dream disappeared into the forest clearing. Hours—and still, they hadn’t returned. Sapnap leaned against the outer gate, arms crossed tightly as the sunlight began to fade through the trees.
“Guess Dream got what he wanted,” he muttered under his breath. “George probably forgave him.”
But despite the hopeful tone, his gut twisted with unease.
Quackity, standing beside him, gave him a sympathetic look. Then, without a word, pulled him into a brief hug.
Sapnap stiffened in surprise, blinking. “Quackity, what—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Quackity said with a smirk. “Let them solve their drama. And once they’re done, you get to go on a date with Karl.”
A flush crept up Sapnap’s cheeks. “Shut up.”
Quackity laughed, clearly enjoying himself.
“I’m serious though,” Sapnap muttered, looking toward the trees again. “I can’t stop thinking something’s going to go wrong.”
His fingers twitched near his sword. It wasn’t just worry anymore—it was instinct.
Nearly twenty minutes passed before that instinct flared into dread.
A scream shattered the stillness—muffled, distant, but unmistakable.
Sapnap froze. His blood ran cold.
“That’s George.”
_______________
In the Clearing
Dream had been gaining on George, his feet pounding against the forest floor. But as he neared the edge of the clearing, something felt off. The air was too still. He slowed, eyes scanning the tree line.
Then he saw it.
A shadowed figure in the distance, hidden behind tall grass—bow drawn, string pulled taut, and aimed directly at George.
“George!” Dream shouted.
George turned, confused—but the danger was faster than his realization.
The arrow flew, cutting through the air.
Without hesitation, Dream surged forward, tackling George to the ground.
A sharp sting tore through Dream’s chest. His breath caught.
For a moment, everything stilled. Time slowed.
Dream gasped as pain bloomed beneath his ribs. His arms were still wrapped tightly around George, his grip beginning to loosen.
“Dream!”
George’s voice cracked as he sat up, the blond’s weight limp against him. He looked down and horror gripped him.
Blood.
It was seeping through Dream’s shirt, soaking into George’s sleeves, blooming in dark crimson across his chest.
“No. No no no—Dream?”
George gently lowered him to the grass, hands trembling as he cupped Dream’s pale face.
Dream blinked slowly, lips twitching into the ghost of a smile.
“Sorry…” Dream whispered, voice barely audible.
George’s breath hitched. “Why… why would you be sorry? I should be the one—”
But Dream reached up, weak fingers brushing George’s wrist.
“Sorry for… making you cry, your highness,” he rasped, tears . “don’t des’rve your kindness. I only- made you hate me”
“No,” George said quickly, fiercely. “I never hated you.”
He tried to steady his voice, but his throat was already tightening. He looked down and saw Dream’s hand smeared with blood—his own blood. George’s heart pounded.
“Why would you—why would you do this? Why take an arrow for me?!”
Dream gave a faint chuckle, coughs wracking his chest mid-laugh.
“Because I wan’ed— t’protect you… one last time.”
George’s eyes went wide. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say it like it’s final.”
Dream’s smile wavered. “glad I’got to see you ‘gain…”
His voice grew fainter with every word, eyelids fluttering.
“No. Dreamie— hey” George’s hands gripped his tighter.
“You promised me. You said you'd stay by my side until my last breath—not yours”
Dream tried to speak again, his lips forming silent words.
“Dream, please. Please stay.”
Dream’s hand reached for George’s, their fingers intertwining.
“never hat’d you,” he whispered, voice a breath. “Just wanted you to know…”
Dream’s eyes were glassy now, breath shallow.
His eyes slipped closed.
His body went still.
There was no final gasp. No dramatic flare of life. Just… stillness.
And silence.
“No.”
George shook him gently. then harder.
But the warmth was already fading from his skin.
“No—” George sobbed. “No, no, no, don’t you dare—”
George’s cries broke through the forest like shattered glass.
____________________
Sapnap and Quackity broke through the trees seconds later.
They came to a halt at the edge of the clearing.
There was George—on his knees—his arms wrapped around Dream’s lifeless body. The blond’s head rested in his lap, blood staining the king’s robes, grass, everything.
“George—” Sapnap whispered, voice strangled.
George looked up. His eyes were hollow, red-rimmed. His hands trembled where they cradled Dream’s cheeks.
“He’s gone,” George said, so softly it barely reached them, his hands trembling as he cupped Dream's face. “He died protecting me.”
Sapnap felt his knees give out.
Quackity placed a hand on Sapnap’s shoulder, but neither of them moved forward yet. The moment didn’t belong to them.
George leaned down again, pressing his forehead to Dream’s once more.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You stupid, selfless idiot. I needed more time. We should’ve had more time…”
Tears slipped freely down his cheeks. His voice broke completely.
“I wasn’t supposed to lose you.”
Sapnap finally moved, walking slowly to George’s side. He crouched down and placed a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“George…” he said.
But there were no words to fix this.
George didn’t even look up. His hands were shaking as he brushed strands of blond hair away from Dream’s face, now pale and still.
“He didn’t keep his promise to stay, why cant he —?”
______________
The castle was silent.
A cold wind swept through the halls as the healers prepared Dream’s body in the royal wing. George sat alone in his chamber, blood still beneath his fingernails, still soaked into his sleeves.
He hadn’t spoken since they carried Dream back.
A single crown sat on the table in front of him—not George’s.
Dream’s.
He’d never worn it officially. He never wanted the title. But George had offered it to him once, half-joking, half-hopeful.
Now it was all that remained.
George reached out, hands trembling, and picked up the crown. He held it to his chest, then lowered his head.
He didn’t cry again.
There were no tears left.
Just grief.
Quiet, heavy, and unforgiving.
And the cold weight of silence where laughter used to live.