Chapter Text
instruments of the brass, string and woodwind family filled the cream-themed ballroom with soothing melodies of waltz- shared pure smiles upon the guests' faces and lifted them into coordinated dances of triple steps with their loved ones, as a celebration to the three decades of their royal family rule. energy illuminated different varieties of emotions and expression, but only positivity sat in the room.
the party was orchestrated by king nicholas the second, the grand ruler of russia, who organised the gathering as a dedication to the outstanding years of their known rule and honour with pure waltz tunes.
guests mentally thanked for the stamped invite they received by their mailmen days ago, with joy plastered on their faces to raise the king's smile. very rarely did the king allow such colossal crowds within his palace, so them seeing ‘invitation from king nicholas to the grand ball hosted in tsarskoye selo’ on their envelopes when half-wake, was more than a surprise. almost no one expected this to part take - even if the imperial family had made their anniversary obvious.
although the only person to not receive a paper invitation to his door, was the king's son himself.
his prince was not alerted about this mass party, only the day before it resulted. it was as though he was not acknowledge within the duration of planning the celebration, but he could not deny his boasting happiness. instead he portrayed rather disbelief upon his expression to mess with his father a tiny bit, which did make his father feel almost guilty for not mentioning quicker.
they swiftly moved the topic along and both apologised for their mistake, or rather joke would the prince admit. they shifted their priorities to the events that were part taking ahead and decide on several topics that the king had not thought of yet. evidently he needed his son more than he thought he would have.
now the whole idea laid in front of the young boys green orbs, it washed away the disbelief from earlier out of his body and was replaced with pride instead.
this was one of the reasons why he loved his title of ‘the next air to the throne’, so much so he had rambled to his fellow companions almost everyday this year - quite odd if you asked his parents, considering he was only eight years old and already interested with such adult topics. that did not stop him from daydreaming about his special day that will eventually rush into his royally boring life - changing his whole life arc, as you could say.
after all, his name was dream, simply one of the most unique callings to exist within the royal history books. it rolled off the tongue so well, king dream the first, making him feel one of a kind and very prideful again.
until he was brutally interrupted by one of the waiters, whom pointed in the of direction his grandmother and repeated some orders he received from her - to which dream simply ignored - and went ahead towards the three ruby coloured thrones where his grandmother sat, but completely failing to and slightly embarrassed himself. his feet must have thought it was hysterical to almost trip up along the way, it made dream mentally annihilation the waiter for following his pathetic orders, for literally doing his job.
this brought his grandmother let out a laugh but hid it with a cough to not embarrass the child more, “you can at least act enthusiastic, dream”
she nodded at him as he paused in front of her, tried his hardest suck himself up to stay respectful and nod back as an apology. before he could let out a word about why she asked for him there, he had already been answered. she pulled out a small box shaped in, what he assumes, a hexagon and had a twisted top to compliment it, with colours tinted cream and sage - dream had a thought of it potentially being a music box, but was not sure.
“what is it?” questioned his small voice, almost not being heard by all the soft mutters of people who pranced behind him in rhythm to music he was not fond with, but luckily his grandmother had hearing better than any woman he was to know - or he was closer than he had expected and she barely picked up on what he had muttered lowly.
“just watch, dear” she replied as her fingers twisted the golden key in the box, “it’s worth the wait”
a grin escaped her lips while the angelic piano tune played out the slightly damaged item and lured dream into leaning closer to indulge the lyrics. his mind tried recognise where he had heard this before. whether he had imagined it being in his memories or if it actually was and he had just forgotten in the moment. his finger could not point the familiarity of the song that laid simply on the his tongue, the title was on the tip and teased his knowledge slightly - yet he was determined to memorise the words for a hint.
even if the music behind him was way louder than the box itself, he had wished for a mute button right there and then, that would have did him more justice. but thankfully, his mind came to a realisation that he could just bring himself closer to the sound.
“may i hold it?” he politely asked, surprised his grandmother with the tone of voice and saw a tiny hesitate eyebrow lift, but nevertheless he received a nod from her and swiftly grasped onto the item. as if he were about to break it, his hands held on very gently and twisted back the key slowly to replay the melody. maybe this time around he will be able to put a name to it.
he held the box closer to his all-open ear and tried to block out his surrounding noises, immediately being pulled into a trance of remembrance and recollection. the memories gently pressed onto his previous questioning with an answer the unknown familiarity he had a couple seconds ago, it brought him a kind slap across his soft face as a wake up call.
'dancing bears, painted wings…'
his visual representation painted the dances him and his grandmother had once in this same room - the ethereal piano chords that they stepped to, the harmonic laughter that they shared and the comfortable energy they gave out within the room - it felt like the remanding glances of the scene hit that specific guilt lever inside his clothed chest but he quickly shook it off as a idiotic reaction.
eyes sparked open, not even being aware of when they glued shut, and faced the woman upon his sight. he passed her an endearing smile as a 'thank you' and a 'forgive me' at the same time, silently hoped she understood the gesture.
“do you like it?” she hushed, as if it were a secret.
“a lot more than you know, ma” his teeth shined through the now childish smile, “i'm sorry for acting rudely earlier”
as a polite manner, he lowered his hands carefully, not to drop the fragile box and cause even more damage to it. his hands shifted it towards to his grandmother, for her to grasp a soft hold around it and take it back into her custody but he was rather confused when she did not accept it back. what else was she longing with the box?
he had figured his quest of the songs name and was done with it, his grandmother had not made it very clear on what she was hinting at.
“it’s yours to keep, i will be away in paris in the meantime” she voiced out as he gasped in reaction, startled a small laugh from his grandmother and a rub to the shoulder.
he had not expected that at all. neither has he expected the paris flight - dream mentally chuckled at his own joke but expressed a completely different emotion, to make his grandmother not suspect any silly remarks being thought about.
he soon realised how lonely he was going to be when she left, since only she played interest in his mind games and speedy thinking. both his parents are far too busy to deal with their only son sadly and proceeded to ignore him whenever he tried to get their attention.
his mothers only son, he corrected his own thoughts. he was also accompanied with three other step-siblings from his father but they were far older than dream was and had always claimed to be busy just like his parents say. his childish self had wished they were more involved with him, or at least play a part in his life as sister's should do.
“how long?” beckoned the male in slight disappointment and hoped she was kidding.
it seemed like dream quite a bratty prince himself, but he was not truly. he loved and adored his family, it was purely just his prideful manner hating the interruption between his daydreams and himself - he would never like being apart for too long from them, especially his grandmother.
“not too long for my prince to miss me” he felt a loving tap on his nose and the melody of the box going silent in his hands, “its a temporary trip dear”
he sent her a relieved expression with a long exhale out and rotated the key once again, to hear a song he reminisces very well. you could say dream became quite obsessed of the tune very speedily - claimed to have been the quickest attachment to a song he had experienced, but what harm could it cause anyway?
“nana, this song” he looks into her honey pooled eyes, “this song is called what again”
she almost instantly smiled and allowed the wrinkles of her face to crack without care, tried to express fondness with how blunt but interested he was and showed him how humoured she was with his questions - which evidently popped a huge bubble in his stomach, a positive bubble.
her finger pulled his chin lower to locate the ear closer to the music and listen for the title within the lyrics being sang from the box, as a clear hint to what it was named.
'and a song someone sings,
once upon a december.'
his intellect was well aware of what the song was now named so with pure instinct, he allowed it to melt and sink through his memory then harden in the treasurable information passed on - like candle wax upon cloth. he definitely did not want to forget this moment and so he wont let the wax melt ever again, it was stay hardened for as long as possible to the prince.
it was a melody he will tell as a king one day and show his children what he had to treasure in his times, made a self promise to pass on the item to his first child to prove how he will be more interactive with them. more than his father is with him.
they were soon disrupted very rudely with a pause of music and quietened steps of dancing people. it was dream’s second interruption this evening yet this time, he felt panic rush within his blood instead of annoyance. that was weird
his arm hair stood still for some odd reason and his lungs lost breath as he turned around to view what had happened to the room. wine glasses scattered around the floor, some broken and some not, the aura in the room changing from light and calm to villainous - he did not know how to feel, his emotions were mixed into a variety of multiple negative feelings.
he had been revealed face to face to a crowd of distraught people, stood still and in pure shock at the view in front of them. they all stared in the same direction, in the way of the yells that bounced inside and outside of everyone's ears yet he couldn’t hear a thing that was said, due to his grandmothers hands covering his ears and guarding him - as his shield to a war that he did not process fast enough.
the brain screamed and pounded at how recognisable that man looked, but only knew his face that was exposed to him. he let himself run thoughts and scans of where this man had come from or who he even was. he was not able to come down to a civil debate with himself on what could be this man's name. why had he targeted his father with such lack of fear?
and what felt like purposely done in the moment, his grandmother carried him into the forever locked up room that he never dared to enter because of his father. his chest loomed with furiousness and confusion both on why he was here, he almost had the mans name and it was now blown out of him - if only he had memorised that mans face a tiny bit longer then he would have had it.
he made him feel unsafe and not alone, in a presence that you never wanted to be companioned with ever yet as horrid as the feeling was, he did not feel the name being tipped onto his tongue. the uncomfortable and frightened state could not scare the memory of the mans identity out of him, felt as though the answer sat mockingly on the inner part of his tongue, not even close to the tip. he simply wrecked himself and his mini quest.
the music box still strongly held by his hand, he could hear the melody still play. instead this time, it played louder and more vividly due to the change of rooms. growing more conscious of the new scenery, dream acknowledged the atmosphere change from calm to chaotic and it was far too much for his mind - it was like his body could compile and shut down any second - but the tune seemingly calmed him down and hid away his mystery for the man in the ballroom.
he felt mildly sick from being bounced up and down in a rushed manner, tried sending mind signals to his grandmother to slow her pace down - for a old woman like her, it's almost a shock to how fast she sprinted in a moment like this. he made sure to note that down as to when she whines about being too old to walk.
and it was either, his grandmother saw dreams uncomfortable state or she was some sort of witch and felt the energy of it happening, not that he was fond with the idea of his grandmother being bewitched. she distinctly placed her hand within coordination to unlock a door that once was a bookshelf, now he was sure that was a witch move but his mind could not handle the thought in this moment.
dream just stuck to assuming that it was a potential hiding stop for the time being while his father fixed what had happened to their 'imperial family celebration' - the question now that laid in his mind, was why she had left the young man with a violin behind them and why he had followed us this way.
it was too late to solve for him anyway so he just let it settle in as a wonder, he had not solved the mysterious mans name or why he was here anyway. it did almost felt like a curse to dream - not being able to figure a simple task out and have an answer within a couple of seconds, it ate him up but he could not act upon it right this second.
his eyes gave up there and then while the music box slipped from his hands, he also felt his body giving up the weight of being awake. he was slowly losing track of reality in a space of only a few minutes, but he was only a child after all and it was definitely not his job to figure everything out right away.
although, what he could let out was a lazy groaned at the fall of the treasured item and came to slow realisation that he had dropped the item at the wrong moment but could not fight to get it. and so his body fell in a sleep he wished he had never dropped in. the last sentence he had heard was from the violin boy's call for him and a claim that he had the box for him, his grandmother must have not heard the call too due to her continuing in the secret room.
that boy did seem like a polite boy though, he mentally thanked him for catching his melody box.
unfortunately, dream never got the box again.