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Dream didn’t visit the castle often.
Eret often stayed on her side of business and Dream in his, and they rarely ever crossed paths. Eret served as a neutral leader, and every so often they would discuss with one another about plans for the SMP, new arrivals, or the SMP itself.
And yet Dream had been right in warning Eret what would happen if he wrongfully sided with who used to be his friends.
War was brewing in all of its glory, and without it even beginning Dream was certain of his victory. It didn’t matter what happened that day, because Dream’s side was not only powerful and stronger, but Wilbur would be destroying L’Manburg at the end.
There was no outcome where Dream could lose.
It didn’t change the fact however of Eret’s decision. They were supposed to be neutral. Eret wasn’t even supposed to be on Dream’s side. It was a test that they failed, and it came with consequence.
This was one of the first nights after he had dethroned Eret that he was visiting the castle.
It was grand and magnificent, and for a moment Dream admitted to himself that Eret had done well in building it. And she wasn’t a bad king, either. Dream just had to hold her to certain standards.
As he neared the entrance, he eyed the lit candles newly set on window sills, illuminating one hall and leaving the other dark. Wordlessly Dream followed down the lit one.
The candles led him in twisting, tortuous paths throughout the castle, and Dream was reminded just how vast this place was. And yet he walked on, axe bouncing where it lay in the sheath on his back, and sword bumping against his hip where it lay at his side.
He had a hunch where the candles would lead him, and was determined to fulfill his role as knight. He may have ultimately been the leader of the SMP as a whole, but his title now was hardly different from what he’d been doing before.
Because after all, all he was doing he was doing for him.
Dream glanced up to the ceiling, and watched as it suddenly became lighter at the end of the room. It felt he was getting close, that someone was still lighting the candles, and Dream had caught up.
He rounded the corner of a hall, and felt nothing but fondness find its way into his chest.
George was oblivious to him, his footsteps silent as he made his way to him. Nothing of George’s appearance told Dream of his newly acquired kingship other than the small crown placed upon his head. It was small and looked almost fragile, and humorously Dream noted to himself it resembled George in a little way, even if George wasn’t small nor fragile.
George could hold his own, but Dream was ultimately his sole protector.
He was his knight, after all.
Dream made his steps heavier as he grew closer, and George glanced up at him with surprise, a small smile lighting his face more than the candles could, in Dream’s humble opinion. He cradled a candle to his chest, what he’d been using to light all the others.
“Dream.” George greeted softly, and Dream found himself sharing his smile under the mask.
“Hey,” Dream replied. “What are you doing?” He gestured to all the candles around him quietly, as if he would disturb the warm, almost welcoming silence that hung heavily all throughout the castle if he raised his voice anymore.
“I thought it was dark in here and wanted to light it up,” George answered, turning over his shoulder and letting Dream fall into step beside him. “Did Eret live in the castle?”
Dream folded his arms behind his back as they walked together into the dark. “I don’t think so. I think she lived more in the towers outside.” Dream waited for him to light the candle before they started to walk again.
“Well, they did a good job building it. The halls are gorgeous.” George breathed, and distantly Dream noted how cold it was in the castle, silently committing to memory the redness in George’s cheeks and the puffs of breath he could see as he talked. Dream chuckled at him.
“They are,” he agreed, and strode forward before turning around to walk backward. “You could get lost in them.” He murmured, and George giggled at his retreating figure, smiling wide as Dream disappeared into the darkness, and smiling wider when he lit the candle and found Dream again.
They continued down the hall.
Gentle silence was rare, and a luxury, Dream considered. He only ever had that with George, relishing in just being beside him like this, without many words. Dream’s life was so unorderly and chaotic but with George it had always been simple. George would walk into his life to help and then fade into the background, into simplicity. George didn’t involve himself with L’Manburg, didn’t involve himself much with anyone other than their close friends, and that was precisely why he was perfect for king.
George’s careful neutrality and analytic way of thinking was ideal for kingship.
Regardless of any other compliments Dream may want to give him.
George finally hummed as they reached the end of the hall, looking up at Dream who impassively stared back. “I just wanted to see what the castle would look like lit. We’ll have to put them out soon, but,” George began to go back from where they came, Dream following, “I just want to see.” He finished.
“I never realized how dark the castle was.” Dream’s voice was a low rumble, and he caught the quick glance George gave him, the sharp intake of air.
“So imagine being me, trying to figure out where everything is.” George eventually mumbled, and Dream wheezed softly. They reached the entrance where the hallways had split into dark and light, and George started lighting them again.
“Have you figured it out?”
“Now I have,” George sighed tiredly as if it had been a tenuous amount of work, trying to explore and map out the castle, and knowingly glanced up at Dream out of the corner of his eye as he lit another candle. “Have you?”
Dream chuckled. “No, not yet.”
They continued further before George laughed with a scoff.
“So you visited, just hoping you’d run into me?” George asked coyly, smile bright, and Dream fought the urge to shoot him a harsh look.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Dream defended. “You’re so stupid.” He eventually mumbled, and George giggled triumphantly, letting the moment pass.
In the name of Philza Minecraft, creator of all, Dream was so very in love.
There wasn’t much he could do to show it, either.
They were undoubtedly freshly in a new era. Rain as it fell to their skin felt clean, no longer full of pollution. The conflict had been solved, L’Manburg, for the time being, put in its place.
It took most of Dream’s time, and less and less did he see George. As said before, these gentle, quiet moments were rare. He valued him and he valued his time, and now with him as king and Dream his knight Dream felt he had an excuse to see him.
He pulled George back into his life, to how it used to be before L’Manburg, before everyone fell apart. When Dream would shadow George farming or mining, when it was just them, and George didn’t purposefully remove himself to go as far as not participating in the wars.
“We’ve made it to the end.” George murmured, and Dream blinked, following George’s gaze back down the hall. Behind them was the entrance to George’s bedroom if he were to sleep into the castle. “Shall we go outside to see?” George asked, and Dream simply nodded, following him out.
George held his arms under his armpits in the cold, but looked determinedly at the castle. Dream wordlessly tore off his cloak and handed it over, George only accepting it with a small thank you as if it was natural. The castle looked amazing, lit up the way it was, and Dream caught George stifle a yawn before heading back up the wooden steps.
“And now we should put them out.” He sighed.
George started off in the hallway Dream found him in, and threw a look over his shoulder when Dream continued to follow.
“You could have gone the other way, we would finish much faster.”
“I want you to be able to see the way if you plan to sleep here tonight.” Dream simply explained, and George raised his brows.
“Oh?” George intoned, and Dream strode forward more confidently.
“I know you’re tired.” Dream murmured, and George snorted.
“It’s true.” He admitted sourly.
“Wouldn’t this be your first night in the castle?” Dream asked, watching as George snuffed out this first candle at the very end of the hall between his fingers.
George gave him a look. “I’ve only just moved into my house, let alone the castle. So yes, I guess it would be.”
“The bed’s to your liking?” Dream intended to joke, but his voice came out much more serious than he intended, hoarse and gravelly.
George hummed. “It is.” He agreed, voice light, and Dream felt his stomach toss.
“It’s probably pretty expensive, considering Eret. They really went all out.” Dream attempted to change the subject, but Dream thought that George must have picked up on his tone.
“You said you don’t know the castle yet. You’re more than welcome to see it for yourself, up close. You’ll get to see for yourself how wonderful the mattress is.”
“Will I?” Dream breathed, and George grinned at him.
“Not unless you don’t want to.” George replied, and Dream felt something akin to anger climbing his chest, feeling as if George was slipping from his hands, but having difficulty coming up with a retort to that.
They walked a very fine line.
“I will.” Dream promised.
They walked further along, taking turns putting out candles. George looked at him for a long time, not going ahead as Dream put out his candle, and Dream did the same for the next one.
“What are your plans?” George asked lightly again, and distantly Dream recognized this as just conversation, something to fill the silence perhaps, but spoke before his sense could catch up to him.
“Tonight?” He replied, and while mentally kicking himself he prayed that George would simply say yes.
“Well, I meant with L’Manburg, but…” he trailed off, and Dream finished his sentence.
“You’re also interested in my plans?” He grinned, and George rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Dream realized that George’s pace quickened, and sped up to keep with him. “It’s late.” Dream murmured close to his ear, curious just how far this could go. Any other night, any other day, it was all jokes and tease. But every joke and every tease was only a step away from crossing the invisible line they’d marked and wordlessly made.
Dream wanted to know if it ran deeper.
Dream wanted to know if George could return any of his feelings, any of this pain.
“I’m aware that it’s late,” George murmured, gaze down and focused on a candle on one of the sills. “You’re busy, Dream. I don’t want to impede on... whatever it is that you’re doing.
“You would never impede me,” The response was immediate, and seems to have struck a chord with George, sucking in his cheeks as Dream put out the next flame. “I’m your knight.” He pointed out, and George nodded with recollection as if that had escaped him.
“You are,” George murmured thoughtfully. “Sir Dream.” He continued as a joke, and Dream felt as if all the air in his lungs had gone. Simple jokes and tease like this should not be affecting him, period. They have gone even farther; this was child’s play for them. And yet Dream found himself more and more obsessed as the minutes slipped by.
“Would you want me to stand guard for you?” Dream asked, staring at the back of his head. “Would you want me to stay here, over night, to keep you safe?” It’s less of a question and more of Dream just voicing what he already wanted to do. George looked up at him through long dark lashes, and Dream could feel after walking up and down these halls for the umpteenth time that they were nearing the end.
“Even my guard needs sleep.” George argued softly, and Dream pushed further, hurrying to put out his candle in anticipation, beginning to hate this back and forth thing that they do. Everything began to make him nervous, but he could not stop.
“And where would I do that?” Dream asked, and George smiled politely up at him, eyes vicious and sparkling with challenge.
“I’m sure we passed plenty of guest rooms.”
“George.” Dream decided to whine, voice lowered and soft and deep. He didn’t like the answer and wanted another. George didn’t laugh, trying to bite down his smile.
“Where else would a knight go?” George asked, deciding to play the game that may have already gone too far.
“Is that all I am to you, George? A knight?” The words were lighthearted, but meant and implied further than that which they would normally go. Dream was tiptoeing the line, and wanted to see if George would push him to fall entirely.
George smiled, red cheeks growing redder, and Dream doubted it was from the cold anymore. Even without his cloak, he felt himself getting warmer too, just standing there. “I can’t choose favorites.” George sighed with fake venom, and Dream finally glanced up, realizing that he were extinguishing his last candle, the rest of the hall enveloped by darkness except for one.
The night was coming to a close, and Dream wanted desperately to ask. Yes, they had all started anew, and making George king was supposed to rekindle their friendship, but Dream could only go on for so long. Dream could only want it and pray for it to be real for so long. In the end, Dream would fight to take what was his. He just wanted to know if George would join him in that plunge.
“Then what if you did?” Dream asked him as they came to a stop at the last candle. What if you did choose a favorite? George turned over his shoulder to face him, right hand hovering over the candle’s flame, pointedly meeting Dream’s eyes.
“It would be you.”
The flame went out instantaneously, but Dream could not bear it.
George reached for Dream when Dream reached for George, and though Dream couldn’t see a thing he was certain that his sense of touch was astounding, because the handsome picture of George against him, pale, soft lips pressing against his innocently, mask shoved aside with a steady hand, was clear in his mind.
It was just a press, Dream knew it was, but it ended up enveloping him whole.
George’s breath was soft on his face, and Dream got the sense George was up on his toes, leaning into him with his hands on his biceps. “Is this what you want?” George whispered, and Dream wanted desperately to sigh into him, to give in, to say yes. But he couldn’t gauge this. George made the first move, and yet Dream didn’t know how he felt. He couldn’t get hopeful, as close as they were, and even if George was still lingering as he was.
“What if it is?” Dream whispered, unable to raise his voice as if it would shock or frighten him away. George’s hand ghosted up Dream’s shoulder and to his jaw, holding his chin and refusing to let him turn away. His thumb ghosted over Dream’s lips, and he shivered.
“Tell me what you want,” George whispered. “Tell me what it is that you want.”
“George.” Dream murmured, and George giggled silently.
“What is it, Dream?” He encouraged, and Dream grabbed his hand, hesitantly, kissing at his thumb, his palm, the side of his wrist. George finally giggled again, louder and so that it echoed in the halls behind him. “Is that what you want?”
“I want you.” Dream murmured, and ached to close the distance between them again, head swimming with the memory becoming increasingly distant; George’s lips against his, how they’d felt as wonderful as Dream had hoped and dreamed of.
George fell back on his feet, leaving Dream cold and making his heart drop to his stomach. But his hand lingered, grabbing Dream’s wrist before he could pull away. He was laughing, and Dream burned with embarrassment. He didn’t know what this was, and he loved George too much to not pull away.
The door was shut behind them, and George reeled on him, cornering him to the wall.
“Are you sure I’m all that you want?”
“Why wouldn’t you be? It’s always been you.” Dream replied, brows furrowing, and it was honest.
“Everything?” George repeated in awe, and Dream thought he was torturing him; forcing him to say it again.
“Everything I do is to protect you.” Dream stated, and wished George was closer so he could see his face.
“That’s how you feel?”
Dream nodded, and almost winced when George’s hand found his sides, terrified that he would be turned away. George came closer until his hands became fists in Dream’s shirt, Dream’s lower back hitting the wall behind him.
“Good.” George replied, and closed the distance between them for a second time. Dream’s hands fell to George’s sides and he tugged him closer, unable to fathom that this was happening, that after all of these years George would be the one to make the first move like this.
George’s tongue slipped between Dream’s lips and Dream tilted his head further to the side with a whine, too far gone to be anything but subservient, relishing in George’s attention anyway the man wanted to give it to him.
George’s hands went tighter in his shirt, and when he pulled away his hands moved to cup Dream’s jaw. Dream couldn’t see the look on George’s face and it killed him. He wanted to see it, he wanted to see all of it.
“I’m tired,” George announced, and it startled a chuckle out of Dream, not saying anything as George yawned again. “Are you going to stay?”
“Of course I will.” Dream smiled, and tugged off his mask for good, George watching him intensely as they both walked over to the bed, fit easily for a king. They sat on either side and kicked off boots, armor, uncomfortable clothing. George plucked the crown off of his head and gently placed it on a side counter. When Dream turned he looked George up and down, refusing to meet his eyes as George knew what he was doing to him.
Dream saw flashes of green from the moonlight that shone through their windows, and didn’t have to see George’s smile to know it was there. The cloak was comfortable after all.
George pulled down the blanket and slipped inside before reaching his arms out to Dream, frozen where he sat.
“I think my guard would be able to protect me if he were to sleep alongside me, don’t you think?” George asked, and Dream chuckled silently, joining him underneath the sheets.
“I think that could be arranged.” Dream smiled, and held George close to him, stealing a handful more kisses as they were flush together, until they slipped into sleep.
Dream had gotten what he had wanted, and he’d never been happier.
He swore he would protect him.
Whatever it took, George would be safe.