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It was supposed to just be a normal day.
Tommy and Tubbo were walking through the gardens when they heard talking. Well, the talking wasn’t actually what they were interested in. Rather, it was the sound of metal slamming against metal, of muscle slamming into hard-packed dirt and grass, of a few pained grunts. Originally, Tommy kind of just thought maybe some of the guards were fighting? Except he wasn’t sure why. The sparring fields were out past the stables, and the gardens weren’t anywhere near the stables.
Still, Tommy was walking through the gardens to prove to himself that he was fine. That he didn’t have to be scared about…well, leaving his room. It wasn’t until after he’d been kidnapped (for the first time in recent years) that he realised he’d been nearly assassinated when he was talking with Schlatt that one time. The gleam he’d seen had been the silver bolt of a crossbow.
Then he’d had his throat slashed. He still had the scar, even though he was still alive. Thanks in no small part to Tubbo, who was walking with him.
Honestly, Tommy wasn’t sure why he picked Tubbo? They were just…he got a vibe from them. They seemed…safe, somehow. He wasn’t sure what was there, exactly. Just…something safe. And so, he was walking beside them in the gardens, looking at the various herbs and flowers the healers used.
Tubbo was telling him something about the flowers, but then they’d gotten distracted by the fighting. It wasn’t that Tommy wasn’t paying attention to how chamomile could help with colic and croup, he just…didn’t know what those were. They were cute flowers, though, he liked them. They just looked…nice and welcoming.
Still, on to what had distracted Tommy from learning about all the different plants in the gardens.
Dream and another man were fighting. And they were good at it, too. Darting to the side, Dream twisted and slammed a foot into the man’s side. Considering how Tubbo didn’t immediately drag him away like they’d sworn to, Tommy assumed this other person wasn’t a bad guy.
Planting a hand in the dirt, the man flipped himself. Ducked to the side. Slammed a strike into Dream’s ribs. “Look, I’m not saying that you can’t so your job.” He began, carding a hand through dark brown hair as he stepped back. Hands raised, he and Dream did a bit of posturing, where they walked around in a tight circle. Faced one another. Ready to fight, focused on each other. “But this is getting too far, Dream.”
“It’s not too far. I haven’t done enough, George.” Oh. So this is George. Tommy mused, blinking. With a roll of his eyes, George darted in. Dream swung, and George dodged back. Attempted to kick Dream in the ribs. Instead, Dream caught his ankle, flipped him into the dirt. There was a grunt, and George swept his legs out from under him. Yelling, Dream dropped to the ground. George flipped them both, pinned him to the ground by his wrists.
“You’ve done enough, Dream. You do so much for the empire. When are you going to stop?”
Dream shoved his foot into George’s stomach. Twisted and flipped them. Then, he got up. “I’m not stopping until he’s down. You saw what he did to Tommy. You heard Velvet’s report. They’re not going to stop until they’re dead or we are.”
“You came here for a reason, Dream!” George snapped. “You came here to get away from everything, or else you would have just done what they wanted and then left! You’re playing into their hands!”
“If I have to do that to keep everyone else safe, then fine! I’ll do it!” Dream retorted in riposte. This time, he struck. George retaliated. With each strike, though, Dream dodged or blocked. With each strike, George got more and more emotional. Even from a distance, Tommy could see his eyes welling up with tears.
Finally, Dream just ended the fight.
Grabbing George’s wrist, he flipped him over his shoulder. Slammed him into the dirt with a heavy smack. Twisted his arm behind him. Braced a now-undiscarded sword into the ground by his neck. “If this were a real fight, you’d be dead. You need to stop being emotional.” Dream said, dropping into a voice less like a friend and more like an instructor. The sheer difference was almost…freaky. It was freaky, absolutely freaky. Dream didn’t act like that.
Then, he stood down. Yanking his hand away, George laid in the dirt. Held onto his wrist and sniffed, still crying. Dream’s expression shifted painfully. “You’re always gone. Always trying to fight your past. When are you going to realise that you won’t have a future if you keep doing that?” Getting up, ignoring Dream’s extended hand, George looked at him painfully. Still holding his injured wrist. “I love you, Dream.” There was another shift in Dream’s face, splitting with pain. Even with the mask over his mouth and nose, Tommy could see his expression shift. “But when are you going to realise we don’t have forever? I don’t think you mean it, but…I feel like you value your job more than you value me.”
His face crumpled. Sniffing, George looked down, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Turning, he walked away. Paused when he saw Tommy and Tubbo. Still, he seemed more upset with Dream than with them. Shaking his head, he kept walking away. Dream stared at the grass, took a deep breath.
Then, he approached Tommy and Tubbo.
Cutting between them, he paused at the entrance to the garden. Glanced back over his shoulder. “Do me a favour. Keep this on the down-low. George is…private, and you don’t get much of that here.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he continued. “Your—Tommy.” He corrected himself swiftly. “Do you know where your brother Wilbur is?”
“He’s in the private library.”
Nodding, Dream spoke again. “Stay safe, both of you.” Then, he hurried off. Disappeared into the castle. Tommy watched him for a little bit. Then, he glanced over at Tubbo.
Meeting his gaze, Tubbo shrugged helplessly, and Tommy looked back down at the ground in front of him.