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“I care about your discs. That’s the only thing I care about here, actually!”
***
George watched Dream pace back and forth, his netherite boots clicking on the spruce floor of the throne room.
“I can’t let them get away with this. They have to pay.”
George hesitated, leaning forward on his throne, which still felt cold and uncomfortable—it wasn’t meant to be sat in for long periods. “Dream… I know you’re mad about Tommy burning my house, but it’s been rebuilt at this point, and…”
“It’s not about your house, George!” George flinched back as Dream exploded, his cloak swirling around him as he spun to face George. “Not anymore. This is about Tommy’s insolence, his… his… threats! He tried to threaten me.”
“Well, if you’re still here, and nothing’s actually happened…”
“That’s the point! Nothing has happened! I told them Tommy would need to be exiled, and he’s still there. They sit on their hands and do nothing. I told them I’d box them in until they die, and they ignored me! They have to pay for that—no one ignores me.” He resumed his pacing, and George relaxed a bit, adjusting the heavy crown resting on his head as he slouched down in the throne.
George watched Dream pace and mutter for nearly an hour before his back and head started to ache. He pulled the crown off momentarily, rubbing at his forehead. “Ow.” Glancing at the wide windows beyond the throne room, he realized the sun was starting to go down—he’d been here at the castle with Dream a long time. Standing up, he started to address Dream. “I’m…” He froze as he spotted Dream, staring at him from behind his mask, no longer pacing. When had he put his mask on? George wondered. Dream never wore the mask around George unless there were other people around—Dream knew the simple smiley face unnerved him.
“Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d get to bed on time for once,” George ventured, pulling his heavy cape tighter around him, shivering. “It’s getting late.”
“Sit down.”
“I…”
“Sit down!”
George sank back onto the throne in a hurry, wrapping himself up tighter in his cape as Dream removed his hand from his axe, resuming his pacing and muttering to himself.
By the time the sun had fully set, George was shivering. He’d fully anticipated being home by now, and he’d dressed accordingly. And as the night drew on, it only got worse—the castle wasn’t well-insulated, and every time George suggested lighting a fire in the hearth, he was told to be quiet.
“Here.”
George glanced up as Sapnap offered him a wool blanket, leaning on the arm of the throne. “Thanks.” He took the blanket from Sapnap, waiting until Dream had turned away to stand up briefly to wrap himself in it before sinking back down, blinking at the sudden warmth. “Whoa, this is warm.”
Sapnap offered him a small smile. “I figured it might be nice to have a warm blanket right now.” Despite his words, he stood there in his normal outfit, thin sleeves barely any barrier against the cold. But as a demon, he was hardly affected by the cold—even now, George could feel heat leaching into the throne from where Sapnap rested his hands.
“How’d you do it without setting the wool on fire?” George asked quietly.
“Very, very carefully,” Sapnap laughed. “Is it helping?”
“A lot,” George promised, exhaling softly as he curled up in the large blanket. “I think I’ll be able to feel my toes in a few minutes.”
Sapnap frowned, his eyes narrowing. “George, why haven’t you just gone home? Wouldn’t…”
George pushed the crown up from where it’d nearly slipped down over his eyes. “I tried, earlier. Dream told me he wanted me to stay.”
Sapnap scoffed. “You’re the king, George. Just go.”
George shook his head, lowering his voice. “You didn’t see him, Sapnap.” Punz had been his bodyguard at the time—Sapnap had only replaced him in the past hour. “He shouted at me.”
“So maybe he’s just in a bad mood. It’s bound to happen, with the L’Manbergians always doing dumb stuff.”
George shook his head. “It’s different this time somehow, Sapnap. I… I’ve never seen him like this. He’s wearing his mask—when was the last time he wore the mask while alone with us?”
Sapnap glanced over at where Dream was pacing, head down. “I dunno. But why’s it matter?”
“You know I don’t like it. It’s weird, seeing that smiley face instead of his face.”
“Have you asked him to take it off?”
“No. Sapnap. He doesn’t want me to leave—I don’t think he’s going to take off the mask just because I ask him.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try.”
“I’m not going to do it, and neither are you, Sapnap.”
Sapnap held his hands up in surrender. “Do it your way, George. I’ll be here if you get cold though.” He stepped back into the shadows next to the throne, his eyes glowing faintly before George turned away.
George called on Sapnap several times throughout the night as it got colder, and Sapnap willingly used his firepower to heat up George’s blanket, though his expression slowly sank into a scowl as the night drew on. It wasn’t that he minded watching over George—it was the duty he’d signed up for, after all—but George didn’t miss his whispers about how keeping them here without speaking to them was pointless.
Punz arrived with the dawn, and George was relieved to see he’d at least brought food with him. Sapnap remained next to the throne as Punz took his place as George’s bodyguard, Sapnap stealing pieces of bread and cheese from George’s plate when he thought George wasn’t looking.
“How’d you know to bring food, Punz?” Sapnap questioned as he sat down on the stone arm of the throne. “Actually, how’d you know to come here at all?” Most mornings, George didn’t even see the two switch places—Punz usually arrived at his cottage to replace Sapnap before George woke.
“Callahan told me you were still here.” Punz shrugged, though his blue eyes watched Dream pace the length of the throne room. “Has he really been like that all night?”
George nodded, yawning. “Yeah.”
“Dang. He’s gonna wear a hole in the floor at this rate—hope Eret didn’t have any tunnels or rooms underneath here, or Dream’s gonna fall into them.”
They’d been finished with breakfast for about an hour when Sapnap decided he’d stuck around long enough. “I’m gonna go to bed,” he muttered. “I’m tired.” He stretched before standing up, glancing at George. “You should get some sleep too.” George’s gaze went immediately to Dream, who hadn’t spoken in several hours, and Sapnap rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s go.” He offered a hand to George, and George hesitated a moment before taking it, gasping as his legs fell out from under him as he stood up. Sapnap barely caught him in time, hauling him to his feet, though George wasn’t actually standing—the only reason he was upright was Sapnap’s arms under his, bracing George against his torso. “What the hell, George?”
“I can’t feel my legs,” George admitted, though his legs started to tingle as feeling returned to them. “They’re numb right now.”
Sapnap was silent for a moment. “You’ve been sitting for hours,” he realized. “George, you can’t just sit for that long.”
“Yeah, I think I’ve figured that out,” George muttered as he slowly recovered enough balance to remain on his feet without leaning on Sapnap, though Sapnap still held onto him. “Ow.”
“You want me to just carry you?” Sapnap laughed after a moment, when George failed to recover his balance.
“No, I’m not a child, I don’t need carrying.”
“Hey, have it your way. It’d get you home faster though.”
“I know, but…” George’s words trailed off in a gasp as he spotted Dream directly behind Sapnap. Sapnap spun around, and George was grateful when Punz caught him instead of letting him fall. Punz offered an arm for George to steady himself with, and George held on as feeling slowly returned to his legs.
“Dream.” Sapnap greeted Dream. “What’s up?” Dream didn’t respond immediately, Sapnap hesitated. “Dream?”
“Sit back down, George.”
Sapnap shook his head. “You’re joking, right? He’s been here all night, Dream. Hell, I’ve been here all night, and you didn’t need him at all then. Let him go sleep.”
“He’ll leave when I say he can leave.”
“Well, tell him to leave, then. He needs sleep—he can’t be king if he’s falling asleep in his throne.”
Dream’s laugh was short, humorless. “Let him fall asleep there, then. It’s not like he does anything important as king, anyway.”
George stepped away from Punz, straightening out his cape and staring down Dream. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean you’re a figurehead—you’re there to stay neutral and look pretty and play king when I need you to.”
A solid moment passed before George was able to respond. “How serious were you?”
“What?”
“When you reprimanded Tommy for threatening you—I heard from everyone that was there say that the only thing you cared about was Tommy’s discs. How serious were you?”
George was unable to gauge Dream’s reaction in his moment of silence, any clues hidden away behind his mask. “What are you trying to say, George?”
“You never cared about me. It was never about the fact that it was my house that got burned—it was that it was the house of the king you’d picked, wasn’t it? You were mad that Tommy damaged property that you own.”
“So what if that’s why I was mad? I…”
“You never got mad when Tommy damaged Sapnap’s house,” George ventured. “And you handed Tommy Mars without even thinking about it. You really don’t care. It’s all a game to you, isn’t it?”
Dream didn’t reply immediately, and George shifted uneasily, his legs aching. “You either sit down and shut up, or I’ll find a new king.”
“Fine! See if I care—I never wanted to be king.” George removed the heavy metal crown, throwing it on the ground at Dream’s feet and unpinning his cape, letting it fall to the ground where it lay like a puddle of blood at his feet. “Make yourself king, find a new king, I don’t care, Dream. When I moved here, it was only to spend time with my friends, not be a king. Fact is, I don’t think there’s anyone else you can pick to be king—you needed me to be king, because I’m one of the few people who actually called you a friend. Good luck finding anyone who’ll just agree to be your puppet.”
George never saw it when Dream’s remaining calm façade broke, but Punz did—Punz was trained to expect it. Dream’s axe descended, only to be caught in Punz’s shield, which cracked under the force. Dream yanked his axe out of the shield as Punz pushed George behind him, and Dream circled sideways, trying to get around Punz. But Punz stayed between Dream and George, pulling his own axe from the loop on his belt.
“Stand down, Punz,” Dream snarled, shifting his grip on his axe. “Now.”
“You paid me to protect him,” Punz observed, his words almost unnervingly mild. “So I’m protecting him.”
“Stand down now, Punz, or I swear on the End dragon, I will kill you, and I’ll make sure to burn your bones so you stay dead.”
Punz glanced back at George for just a moment before lowering his axe, and George stared. “Punz!”
“Sorry, George, but Dream is the one paying me, in the end.” He stepped back, and George was fully anticipating taking Dream’s axe in his chest when he heard a shout.
“Get away from him!”
Sapnap crashed into Dream, not even bothering with a weapon, instead opting to simply knock Dream off his feet. His fists glowed with fire as he pummeled Dream’s netherite chest plate, glancing back only once.
“Run, George!”
George ran, stumbling over his own feet as Dream shouted for Punz to stop him. Even as George ran for the front gates, Punz threw an ender pearl, and George detoured sharply into the courtyard as the pearl arced over him. He darted through the courtyard before Punz was teleported, and he gained just a few seconds to head for the back gates. If he could get to Badlands—just a few miles beyond the castle—he might be safe.
He heard Sapnap scream behind him, and his heart caught in his throat. In all his time being friends with Dream and Sapnap, they’d never been threatened like this—they’d always been on the winning side. It was their enemies who were supposed to scream like that.
His ender pearl carried him several hundred yards, though he heard Punz’s netherite boots hit the wooden path not far behind him, and he knew Punz had at least a dozen more pearls he could use, along with a trident to carry him through the water. It severely limited George’s options of where he could run, so George took what was left and abandoned the path, darting into the thick undergrowth of the spruce trees.
Punz still managed to catch up with him about a mile from the Badlands, his arrow narrowly missing a gap in George’s armor that would’ve meant death. George stumbled at the near miss, and that split second was all it took for Punz to reach him, knocking him to the ground. George rolled out of the way as Punz slammed his trident downward, the prongs burying themselves in the dirt. He managed to make it to a crouch while Punz ripped the trident out of the ground in a spray of loose soil, and George lunged sideways as Punz stabbed forward, the trident bouncing off of a tree trunk while George crashed into a different one.
“Punz, please just let me go,” George begged, darting behind the tree as Punz lashed out again, knocking bark off the tree as it narrowly missed George’s torso. “I don’t have a problem with you.”
“Sorry, George—it’s nothing personal,” Punz promised, his tone far too casual considering he was trying to kill George. “Dream just pays me a lot of money to do what he says, and he’ll know if I’m lying if I let you go, and I go back to him empty-handed. And I don’t know about you, George, but I don’t really like the idea of dying.”
“That’s why I’m trying to get you to not kill me!”
“Nothing personal, George.” Punz shrugged, and after that, George couldn’t coax another response from him. He was loyal only to the money Dream offered him, and considering Dream’s power… George would never sway Punz. And what was worse, he wasn’t sure he could outlast him either. Punz had been hired as one of his bodyguards for a reason. He never hesitated, while George’s dodging became more questionable, his breaths coming more raggedly—he’d never been much of a fighter.
The trident cracking into his chest was enough to knock the breath from him, and he collapsed to his knees, narrowly avoiding smashing his face in the dirt. He knew he needed to roll out of the way one last time before the trident descended again, but this time, he couldn’t find the energy, aches from Punz’s previous hits sapping his strength.
An arrow bouncing off Punz’s wrist guard was enough for the trident to miss its mark, the prongs burying themselves in the dirt only inches from George’s face. Looking up, George gasped as he spotted a bloodied figure, bow in hand. The bow glimmered with enchantments, though they appeared dulled—the person wielding it had little energy left.
Punz, however, decided to not take his chances, ripping his trident from the ground before running back for the road as another arrow buzzed past him, tearing a bloody line open across his cheek. After that, Punz used an ender pearl over the trees, letting the magic carry him away.
George’s rescuer collapsed to one knee in front of him, blood soaking nearly every inch of him. If George hadn’t been so familiar with the person in front of him, he’d have assumed it was Technoblade, having just gotten done with one of his bloodthirsty rampages. But instead, it was Sapnap, somehow, impossibly, still alive after a fight with Dream. The wounds he carried should have killed him.
“How are you alive?” George finally whispered.
Sapnap withdrew something from his pocket, revealing a shimmering golden apple. A single bite marred its shiny surface, and Sapnap shuddered, taking another bite before offering it to George.
George took a small bite of the fruit; compared to Sapnap, he had no wounds that he couldn’t survive. He’d ache and have a rainbow array of bruises in a few hours, but very few of the strikes Punz had been able to land had even pierced his skin. Sapnap, on the other hand, looked more wound than man.
“Sapnap, what happened?”
Sapnap shook his head, shoving the apple back in his pocket. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Is he dead, then?”
George flinched when Sapnap laughed. “Of course not.” Sapnap’s fists tightened, and sparks flashed faintly, flickering to nothing as they fell from his skin. “He knew exactly what I was gonna do before I did. I only made it out because of the apple—he didn’t expect me to have it. Managed to hurt him enough to escape. Guess he just didn’t feel like chasing.”
“I guess we should count our blessings there,” George ventured.
“Yeah.” Sapnap swayed where he was kneeling, and George, refreshed by the regeneration enchantments the apple offered, reached out and placed his hands on Sapnap’s shoulders, helping him find his balance. George rose to his feet and offered Sapnap a hand up; Sapnap took it willingly, his blood sticky between George’s fingers. George swallowed nervously, but he kept ahold of Sapnap’s hand, letting Sapnap slide an arm over his shoulder when his knees buckled.
“Come on, we need to get to the Badlands.”
“You sure?”
“At least for now—Bad or Sam will have something to help you get better. And that’s what matters right now—we’re nothing if we don’t stick together.”
“Together until the end, then.”
George nodded. “Together until the end,” he agreed, and they started the last stretch to reach the Badlands.
By the end of that mile, Sapnap was nearly unconscious, his eyes slipping shut and his steps faltering. His weight rested more and more heavily on George’s shoulders, but George gritted his teeth and continued dragging Sapnap forward. Sapnap had risked his life for George by fighting Dream, and George refused to let his friend die for him.
They were met at the borders of Antfrost’s animal sanctuary by Bad and Ant, both who rushed out from beyond the fences. “George! What happened?” Ant questioned, while Bad inspected Sapnap, who was now mumbling softly under his breath.
“Dream decided he didn’t need us anymore,” George said quietly. “He attacked us. Sapnap fought him while I ran.” He wondered briefly if Sapnap would be in better shape if he’d stuck around to fight instead of running.
“He’s lucky to be alive then,” Bad observed, opening a pouch slung over his shoulder. “Dream’s not exactly known for mercy.”
George nodded. “I know.” He’d seen it enough to know: in the war for L’Manberg’s independence, his ruthless manipulation of the Pogtopians and Manbergians—George hated now that he’d laughed at their gullibility, their trust in Dream—his dethroning of Eret, his bloodthirst in the battle of Manberg, his sheer glee at seeing TNT and the Withers released on his enemies’ land.
“You realize that we can’t hide you here for long,” Bad warned, pulling out what George hoped was a healing potion from his bag.
“Just give us enough time for Sapnap to get back on his feet, and we’ll go,” George promised. “Or give me the supplies to take care of him, at least. Please?”
Bad nodded. “You can probably stay the night, but you’ll need to leave by morning. Any longer than that…” He glanced at the trees surrounding the sanctuary, the shadows under the thick branches growing longer as the day drew on.
“Yeah.” George nodded; he understood. Bad would do what he needed to in order to keep Ant, Sam, Skeppy, and himself safe. “Thank you.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Bad said simply, sliding Sapnap’s other arm over his shoulder. “Let’s get him to a bed and get him cleaned up.”
Ant led the way forward, and George followed with Bad, Sapnap stumbling along in between them. His shuffling steps left a small trail behind them, and glancing back the way they’d come, George wondered how long he and Sapnap would have to run for. Where could they even run to? Who would risk Dream’s wrath to shelter them? The Holy Lands were an option, but they were too close to Dream’s domain for comfort, and in any case, there was no steady supply of food in the Holy Lands. He considered L’Manberg briefly, but knew that Tubbo had enough problems trying to keep Dream from striking them down because of Tommy.
There was one person George thought might stand a chance against Dream, but after all that had happened… George was wary of approaching him for help, especially with Sapnap injured.
It was more than likely that they’d have to brave the wilderness. George shivered as he helped maneuver Sapnap onto a bed, standing next to the bed as Bad started tending to Sapnap’s wounds. He hadn’t faced the wilderness in many years, and he knew that Dream had spies everywhere. The thought of going out there…
Sapnap gripping his hand made him blink, and he glanced down at his friend—the only person he could truly trust. “We’ll be okay,” Sapnap whispered before closing his eyes, exhaling softly before falling truly into unconsciousness.
“We’ll be okay,” George echoed, and as he watched some of Sapnap’s wounds start to close, he felt like he just might believe that.