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Often, at the end of a long day, Prince Dream will sit on the balcony attached to his library and admire the skyline. He'll sit on the concrete floor instead of the woven chair behind him and poke his head through the bars.
Usually, it's quiet. The kingdom always is after supper time. A silent agreement throughout all the villagers to allow time for everyone to relax after a long hard working day. It's peaceful, but part of Dream wishes the kingdom was more lively. The idea of festivals that ride late into the night with fireworks and music at every corner makes Dreams heart beat a little faster.
But it stays quiet.
And Dream stays seated. Cold lines imprinting his cheeks from the bars of the balcony.
Down on the ground is Dreams older sister, Princess Niki. Her mauve dress would be bouncing around at her legs if she wasn't holding it up with one hand, the other grasping the hand of a man she met last year at the annual banquet with the neighboring kingdom. His name is Prince Wilbur.
The two kingdoms' families have been having an annual banquet since long before Dream was born. Before he was even thought to have existed, back when his fathers, fathers, father (or something, Dream really doesn't care to remember.) formed an alliance with their king at the time. They meet at a halfway point and share an evening together to celebrate their alliance. That's where Niki and Wilbur met.
That's also where Dream and George met.
Every year since they could walk on their own Dream and George sat together at the banquets. The two prince's giggling into their hands and poking at their food. As they got older they found ways to sneak off and wander the halls and eventually even outside.
Dream has always loved going to the banquets. But it was never the live music or the mingling with people he didn't care to know, or even the food. It was George. It was his knowing smirk followed by a gutty laugh. It was the way George hugged him as though no time had passed, the way George eventually had to stand on his tiptoes to hug him because Dream grew much faster and a bit taller.
The banquet when Dream was around sixteen and George around seventeen was particularly memorable for the both of them.
As soon as Dream entered the large wooden doors of the building in which they met for the banquet he noticed George across the room. His back was turned but Dream knew it was him.
After greeting all those who his family required him to he nearly ran across the room to George. Calling out "George! Prince George!" to catch his attention. To see his friend smile widely and jump up to hug him. George had changed a lot since the last year (Dream had too, but he didn't realize it) his hair was a bit longer, a bit fluffier. He seemed to have grown into his face a little, Dream wanted to run his finger along Georges jawline and feel how much different he was.
They sat at their assigned table where the unmarried people and adolescents sat. All of Dream and Georges older siblings and Georges only younger sibling. They threw and caught glances throughout the annual 'We're so glad we're all still allies and don't have to go to war against each other!' speech.
When the evening had calmed down and the music was softer and conversations settled to only those close together Dream excused himself to the bathroom while looking only at George, smiling suspiciously and definitely giving away their plan to all those who sat with them at the table. The others must've never cared, because they didn't say a word or dare to follow them.
Down the hall Dream was soon joined by George. They fell into another hug for no particular reason. This time George's face pushed further into Dream's neck and his arms wrapped tighter around his torso. A sigh found its way through both their lips. Dream turned into George's hair and breathed deeply.
"I missed you." George mumbled. Dream smiled hard at the pleasant feeling that wafted in and around their bodies.
"I missed you too, George."
"I received your letter last week," George said as they separated, as Dream kept his hands on George's waist. "You're too kind to me Dream." Dream softened at the sight of Georges flushed cheeks.
He looked George in the eyes and promised him, "You deserve the world George, you really do."
Between banquets Dream and George rarely saw each other in person. They couldn't really. Neither was allowed to go anywhere without a knight or someone else to accompany them. So they both deemed it a buzzkill to have an adult with them and resorted to exchanging letters.
As kids, their letters consisted of tales of what happened during their days or weeks, stuff from when the biggest decisions they had to make were what to have for breakfast. When they got older they became more personal. Dream recalls writing pages and pages of his feelings and aspirations, asking George what he wants to do as he gets older. And then George doing the same in his letters. George sharing his own life goals.
A lot of things seemed to overlap.
Eventually, Dream started pouring his heart onto the pages. Vaguely admitting things that were far too difficult to say out loud, revealing layers of himself he wouldn't to anyone else.
I have always wondered what it would have been like if I wasn't born into the life I live. Have you ever thought that too George? What if you and I were villagers? I believe we would have a lovely life together. Perhaps you and I could live together as well. How delightful it would be to see you every day.
George's replies always came through tardily. The prince took his sweet precious time, which spiked Dreams nerves whenever he had said something particularly risque. But they did come.
I have pondered that as well Dream. If we were born villagers we would certainly have to live in close quarters. You would get sick of me quickly because I would require a hug of you every morning and evening! I still hope one day we will be able to live similar to that.
When Dream was seventeen and George was eighteen they got to see each other again at that year's banquet, as they had their whole lives.
That year their letters had taken a sharp turn. Previous confessions and whisperings of yearning became considerably more frank. Their friendship transformed into something they were both too afraid to label.
At the banquet, Dream couldn't keep his eyes off George.
Or his hands.
After nearly an hour of Dream nonchalantly stroking George's thigh under the dining table, George couldn't take it anymore. The older shuffling out of his seat and signaling Dream to follow.
"Are you okay?" Dream asked with a giggle as George stomped down the hall in front of him.
"You are an idiot." George huffed, but his tone was playful and his face was amiable. Dream hugged him for all the times they couldn't that year. He even pecked George's cheek, because even though he was confident through letters Dream was quite nervous in person. As much as he wrote about wanting to hold George and love him (in a way he'd never wanted to love anyone else) he was intimated in real life.
George was always so effortless, so confident. Dream felt he could never compare. Even when Dreams body grew to be muscular and larger than Georges he still felt minuscule under George. He didn't mind putting George up on a pedestal.
But the month after the banquet George's letters reverted back to platonic. Every time Dream mentioned something they had spent so long fantasizing over George would blatantly ignore it. 'I love you more than anything, George.' was met with 'How has your family been?'
A true slap in the face.
It was even worse at the next banquet.
Dream eighteen and George nineteen. Instead of sitting next to Dream (as they had for the past nearly seventeen years) George sat at the other end of the table.
Not only was he too far away for Dreams liking but he was also accompanied by someone else. A young woman in a crimson dress with coily dark brown hair and a wide smile that screamed 'I'm better than you Dream! I can give George what you can't!'
He sulked and sulked. He threw anger in George's direction, tried to catch his eye and crawl inside his brain and scream at him. Why would George do that? Why would he bring someone else to the banquet if not to prove a point?
Dream recalled letters from George, ones that he swore at the time proved their love.
I cannot stop missing you Dream. You've taken over a great deal of my thoughts recently. Mother keeps bringing other people to me, I wish they were you. No one can make me feel the way you do. As of late, I have been wondering if our souls are intertwined, I am quite embarrassed now that I write that out. Promise you won't judge me?
But with George's attention on the woman in the crimson dress Dream deems all the letters a lie. He shreds up George's memory in his mind and curses himself for falling for George's cruel trickery. Whatever George had to gain from stringing Dream along, Dream hopes he finally got it and can leave him alone now.
A few weeks later Dream finds himself trudging through the forest miles away from the castle. Running only on the pure anger and misery he's felt for the past few weeks. Hacking with his sword at trees, plants, and anything else that might get in his way.
Through all of his winding thoughts Dream almost didn't hear the distant call of his name.
"Dream?" The voice called through the dense wilderness. "Is that you Dream?"
As soon as he's yanked out of his thoughts Dream whips his head around, darting his eyes through the forest to find the person to the voice. With his sword raised into the moonlit wilderness he sees a cloaked figure emerge then slowly lower their hood.
"What are you doing here Dream?" It's George. His face looks worn and tired, the dim lighting from the moon not helping to hide it. If the circumstances were different Dream would be holding George and telling him how glad he is that they ran into each other.
Instead, Dream spits at his friend, "It doesn't concern you." He keeps his gaze fixed on the sword in his hand. George takes a few steps forward into the light surrounding Dream, his sword drawn only because Dreams is too. "I don't want to talk to you." Dream said.
Even though he's angry and can feel the pull in his chest he still holds his ground, avoiding George's gaze because he knows it will only make things worse. George huffs and nudges Dreams sword with his own. "Please." George weakly croaks out. He sounds as though he's been crying or yelling. Possibly both.
Dream lunges forward and begins swinging his sword. Anyone would be able to tell he wasn't actually trying to hurt the other prince, his jabs were too careful and calculated. The tears rolling down Dreams cheeks went unnoticed.
George lunged forward, turning his sword, and shoving Dream back by his shoulders onto the dirt. Quickly pulling back to hold his sword to Dreams throat, chest heaving with anger. Dreams tailbone hit the dirt floor of the forest and sent a shockwave of pain up his back. He hissed at the discomfort of the point pricking at his throat.
"I will kill you Dream. I swear to god I will." His threat didn't come out threating. Instead it was desperate and beseeching.
"You cannot kill me in a way that matters." Dream cries out. "You have already killed everything inside of me."
The sword pressing against the pale skin of Dream's neck is pulled back, reliving the sting it was causing. George let out a desperate sob, it erupted out of his throat like he'd been holding it in. Dream wavered at the sight of George broken, falling on his knees and dropping his sword with a gentle thud on the forest floor.
"I never meant to hurt you..." George softly cried into his palms that covered his face. Dream felt his insides crush, all his bones simultaneously fracturing. He couldn't bear the pain anymore, he had to hear the other prince out and give him a second chance.
"I didn't like her like that," George whimpered as he hugged his knees to his chest. "Mother and Father told me it was time to find a wife." His voice cracked in the air. "I was so scared to tell them the truth."
The bleeding wound of confession clotted on the surface of Dream and George's skin. Dream held onto George's words, hoping and praying that they meant what he needed them to. "The truth?" He questioned, voice dripping with hope.
George nodded, his chin knocking his knees. "That I have already found someone I would like to marry." George replied.
A dagger grazed Dreams heart, preparing to bury into the precious organ. George means him right? Dream felt insecurity seep into his pores. The tearful brunet in front of him could practically read Dream's mind.
"You, Dream." His voice was quiet. "I'm speaking of you."
By that time the darkness began to lift, painting the sky a dark shade of blue and sprinkling the horizon with shades of orange and yellow. Dream was sat only a foot away from George. Finally, he got sick of watching the young man shiver with faltering hope and scooted their bodies close. His arm wrapping around George's back in a way that only used to happen once a year.
"You don't need to be scared anymore." Dream whispered into George's hair, kissing his scalp gently. The older prince grasped Dreams shirt and buried his face into his chest. A silent agreement mumbled back.
Often, at the end of a long day, Prince Dream will sit with Prince George on the balcony attached to his library and admire the skyline. The soft colors of the sunset blending in a way not even the highest quality of oil paints could. The sky is beautiful, breathtaking even, but it's hard to keep his eyes on it with George sitting next to him. Dream can't keep himself from staring. A soft, ever-present pink tint brushes the top of George's cheeks, starkly contrasting with the pale skin of the rest of his face.
Soon George will notice. Soon he'll turn his head and give Dream a playful scowl. One that will melt Dream like a soft waxed candle under a quivering flame. When he pulls George close to press their lips together the blush on the older prince's face will transfer to Dreams, the smashing of their faces together will transmit their body heat.
Perhaps, Dream wonders, the pair will be able to get away from royalty. Maybe all the time they spent daydreaming through letters about how they would be as villagers could be more than just an idea. Dream knows him and George can leave. Their older siblings will take the crowns and go on to be great leaders.
And Dream can scoop George up and take him away to their own life. Marry him in a modest setting. Build a home together.
George hopes so too.