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Maybe he was being overly confident, maybe he just couldn’t resist the challenge - to test himself, to push himself further: can he do it, can he rob another carriage completely on his own and get away with it? Granted, the challenge was risky. In fact, it was so risky that he hadn’t told his loyal friends about it, knowing that they would’ve tried to stop him. Especially George - god, he would’ve been so concerned! Their leader going all alone, risking getting caught or killed… Despite being a bandit, he was very cautious, that George, always pleading him to play it safe.
Anyway, Dream was sure he could do it. He just could’ve used some more adrenaline, more thrill, a more challenging test of his skill. Even living the life of crime and daring escapes from the king’s men can become a boring routine after some time.
Sitting on a thick branch of his favourite large tree perfect for scouting, he spotted a coach that was pulled by two horses and was fairly rich by the looks of it: polished dark oac, tasteful silver ornaments. It was probably some merchant traversing the dangerous woods, thick curtains drawn, with only two armed men sitting on the box. A perfect target. Dream followed it quickly, jumping from branch to branch with the usual ease. So many people who encountered him would later tell the tales about how he had the grace and agility of a cat, how fast he moved through the trees, like a phantom, only with his white mask barely visible through the leaves. Well, Dream could tell you without false modesty: these tales were absolutely true.
He caught up to the carriage without even slightly losing his breath and then jumped on top of it with trained precision. Pushing the men out of their seat was easy: they were startled and disoriented, and couldn’t put up much of a fight. Soon they were thrown on the ground and Dream was already on the box with the reins in his hands, urging on the horses. The guards shouted at him, but Dream only laughed in response, driving the carriage faster and faster, leaving them far behind.
The hijacking was noticed by the guard inside. He opened the door and tried reaching Dream with his sword, probably reasoning that wherever the thief was taking them was far more dangerous than fencing him while hanging out of a fast moving carriage. Dream only dodged his attacks, luring him into reaching more and more, getting closer to losing his balance. When Dream sensed the moment was right, he drew the rains sharply. The horses neighed, the carriage slowed down, and the guard wasn’t ready for that, losing his grip and starting to fall. Dream urged on the horses again, and the sudden pull was enough for the guard to be thrown on the ground. The only thing he could do was to choke on the dust from under the fast turning wheels.
Well, that wasn’t much of a challenge at all, Dream thought to himself, driving the coach to a nice dead end hidden just a bit to the side of the road. He should try a more heavily guarded one next time, maybe with a full-on convoy. Now that would be the test of skill for sure. This? This was just business as usual.
He sighed as he stopped the horses and jumped on the ground. Judging from his experience, there probably was a trembling rich person or two inside the coach now, being ready to give up all the money they had for their lives. This was a part where Dream would taunt them a little, maybe even play a role of a merciless killer - he and his friends really enjoyed putting on a bit of a show - but then ultimately leave the captives be.
After taking all the gold they had, of course.
The flimsy door swung open and the usual ironic speech got stuck in Dream’s throat. He saw polished military boots, crimson-red uniform and small but glaring eyes. On a hog’s head. There weren't a lot of people in the kingdom who looked like this. In fact, there probably was only one.
“No way,” the words escaped his mouth.
Barely fitting into the narrow door frame, the one and only king Technoblade stepped out of the coach. It squeaked and tilted under his weight, and Dream couldn’t help but instinctively step back. He'd seen Technoblade only from afar, never this close, and the tales about him were apparently also true - he was intimidating. It wasn’t only about the height (Dream wasn’t exactly short himself), but also his massive figure, his heavy step, his glimmering golden buttons and aiguillette, the bright-white cravat and, of course, the pig’s head animated with human intelligence behind the eyes.
“Hmm, so, the white mask and the green attire… Are you an imitator or am I actually that lucky?” He sounded calm, even with hints of boredom in his deep voice.
“Oh, I am the real thing,” Dream said, “I mean, if I were a copycat, would I have dealt with your guards that quickly?”
Only after he said that, it came to him that maybe he actually should’ve let Technoblade believe he was an imitator. But where would be the fun in that?
“A skilled imitator then, perhaps? Anyway, you are robbing me, apparently. So I can protect myself.” Technoblade drew his sword from the scabbard he was holding. A gorgeous sword by all means, shining like a sun and no doubt perfectly balanced. “Well, and if it is me who kills the famous Dream… What’s one more heroic deed, right?”
“Do you think the people will find it heroic? They love me. Perhaps even more than you."
Oh, Dream obviously touched a nerve there. Technoblade clenched the weapon and nervously twitched his ears.
“Come on, draw your toothpick. Don’t want to kill an unarmed man”.
The reasonable voice in Dream’s head told him to just turn and run. There’s no way Technoblade would be able to catch up, especially in the forest. But that would be just pathetic. Besides, didn’t Dream want a challenge? How hard could it be to beat him, really? He was big which meant he was slow, his stiff uniform would limit his movements… Dream had a ton of advantages here.
He drew his sword, the simple, but trustworthy weapon, and hardly managed to take a fighting stance. Technoblade attacked him in a matter of seconds with powerful blows which Dream barely countered. The clanking of the metal was so loud it started ringing in his ears, he was pushed back, overpowered, his strength draining from just how physically hard it was to hold a sword against such heavy hits. He was so preoccupied with simple defence, Technoblade seized an opportunity and kicked him in the chest.
Dream fell on his back onto the sharp gravel of the road. If not for the light armor underneath the shirt, he swore the heavy boot could’ve broken his ribs. Technoblade towered above him, mercilessly bringing his sword down, almost impaling him. He instinctively dodged the attack by rolling on the ground and kicked Technoblade in the knee, buying himself a second to stand up.
Alright. He was pushed closer to the trees. He should use that. Dream ran behind one, making Technoblade walk in circles trying to get him, which frustrated him so much he groaned in a funny pitch, accentuated by his snout. His swings started to become more careless out of impatience, and he ran the blade quite deep into the tree after an unsuccessful attack. Dream grabbed a branch above him, raised himself and kicked the handle of the sword out of his grip. Yes! The sword was stuck in the tree. Dream was prepared to kick that snout as hard as he could, but Technoblade grabbed the sword by his left hand and pulled it out of the bark, using the momentum to immediately swing it at Dream.
Dream nearly lost a leg there. He had to jump away from the tree, did a quick roll and frantically looked back at Technoblade.
“I’m starting to think you really are Dream,” he heard, “The one time I travel incognito… Where are your henchmen, though? Are they hiding in the trees with crossbows?”
“Don’t have henchmen,” shrugged Dream, “Only friends”.
“Oh, this is cute,” he said, coming closer, playing with the sword, “They don’t protect you well, do they? You almost died like ten times in five minutes. It almost seems like you’re alone”.
He was looking for an opening to launch another insanely strong attack and trying to distract Dream with talking. But oh no, this time Dream would be prepared. He encouraged himself thinking that Technoblade would probably be tactically weaker now, because he didn’t know what to do after his opponent survived the first few minutes of the fight.
Dream was slowly stepping back to the carriage, but still letting Technoblade to shorten the distance between them.
“I think I will keep your mask as a trophy.”
“You have an unfair advantage, by the way,” Dream began without really knowing where he’s going with this. He was thinking tactics rather than witty comebacks. “It’s hard to cut through all that fat,” he said and immediately felt embarrassed.
“Really?” Technoblade sighed, “I can excuse robbing countless people and taking my place as the living legend of the kingdom… But unfunny jokes? You deserve to die”.
With that he launched at him, and Dream jumped on the back of the coach. With height advantage, he felt more confident, and even almost managed to scar one of Technoblade’s ears. But when he started to adjust, Dream had to climb on top of the carriage.
“I’m not going there, that’s undignified,” Technoblade muttered, “You’ll have to come down eventually”.
Okay, okay, think. Horses. Escaping? No way in a million years would Dream run away now.
The coachman had a whip. Dream went for it, yanked it from the seat at the front and immediately hit Technoblade right across his face. Oh, that probably hurt a lot.
“YOU-”
He was cut off as Dream hit him again, enjoying the safety on top of the coach. Yes, it was a bit cruel, but they were trying to kill each other.
“Maybe we can use you as the third horse-”
Technoblade rocked the coach with a heavy kick to the side. Dream was not prepared for it to make such an impact - apparently, he just made him ten times angrier and thus stronger, so Dream slid from the top and hit the ground.
Technoblade’s face was covered in blood drawn by the whip, it was the exact colour as his uniform, and it seemed like even his dark blue eyes now acquired a bit of a red tone. He was also dead silent, which did not reassure Dream in the slightest.
Dream jumped on his feet. Another swing of the whip was unsuccessful - Technoblade caught it, wound it up around his hand and pulled Dream towards himself, nearly making him lose balance. They both tugged at it while crossing swords until Dream cut it off. Alright. No more games. He threw away the handle and prepared to counter attacks.
Just like he predicted - he was faster. He danced around Technoblade and even managed to dive between his legs once, but the hits he received were so measured, so calculated and precise, that this advantage was not enough. Technoblade was always on time to react and allowed him to be worn off by constant dodging and jumping around. In retrospect, Dream understood that, but in the moment he was too engaged to realise: Technoblade was saving his strength, while Dream was wasting his on swift but pointless attacks. One good hit - and Dream lost his sword.
He looked at the blade pointing right at his throat and thought, hey, maybe running away wasn’t such a bad idea, actually.
They were both panting heavily, with sweat running down their faces. Dream gathered air in his lungs and uttered: “Before you do anything, I, uhh, I’m sorry I called you fat-”
The sound of people gathering distracted Technoblade from doing anything. Dream looked around too - king’s guards. Probably noticed that he hadn’t arrived in time, or followed the coach until they understood that it went off the route. Dream looked behind him and immediately saw a crossbow staring right at his face. Oh, come on.
“Now, I don’t know about you, but I do have henchmen,” said Technoblade and lowered his sword.
“Techno!” shouted a man in green robes, half-jogging to them from behind the line of soldiers, “I mean, your majesty,” he corrected himself as soon as he noticed Dream. “God, your face!”
“I’m fine, Phil. I have thick skin”.
“Wait, is that-,” now Phil truly noticed Dream and was staring at him. Yes, yes, it was, the legendary thief with a heart of gold, and he couldn't believe he got himself into this situation.
“Yeah, that’s my new sparring partner,” Technoblade replied as if it was no big deal. Dream was still looking for a way out of this and still saw none. “You are my new sparring partner, right?”
Dream looked at the arrowhead pointing at him and said: “Yes”. Technoblade tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. Dream grimaced under his mask but squeezed out: “Your majesty”.
Technoblade smiled and allowed Phil to continue wiping the blood off of his snout and going on and on about how he would never, ever allow this "traveling incognito" thing happen again.
Well, Dream thought, at least if Technoblade was being serious about the sparring thing, maybe he’d allow him to wipe that smirk off of his pig face in a few more fights.
Before Dream inevitably escapes, that is. Now that would be an interesting challenge.