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The only reason George agrees to it is because he’s been watching his realm suffer for twenty years. His mother was connected to the core of the earth itself, and she died not long after he was born. His older siblings do not have the magic that he does, they don’t have the powers of nature that run through his veins. He feels every strike that the Nether’s forces make against his realm, and he’s felt every strike for his entire life. The earth is crying out; it cannot take much more of this.
Which is why, when his father the King approaches him as he sits in the gardens and tries to heal the broken earth around him, he listens. And which is why, when his father the King explains what this would mean to a realm that has been at war for six hundred years, he agrees.
The Overworld and the Nether have been fighting for a very long time; or rather, the Nether has been sending its forces into the Overworld, and the Overworld has done its best to protect itself. They’ve been fighting a losing battle recently, and when the Nether’s last King died, his son took his place and immediately called for a ceasefire. He sent messengers with a white flag, and George’s father the King was in meetings for several hours before he left with a grim face.
“This land needs to heal, George,” he says as they sit in the gardens. “You know that better than anyone. Which is why I ask this of you.”
“Ask what of me?” he questions tiredly. He’s spent the day with wounded animals, converging on him in the pause in attacks. It’s heartbreaking, knowing how much this land has suffered. It’s why he allows himself to feel a little bit of hope.
“King Sapnap has offered a surrender,” his father the King explains, but he doesn’t look pleased. “He’ll withdraw his troops and never send them back. It shall be known that victory goes to the Overworld.”
“But?” George asks.
“But he wants something in exchange,” the King says.
“Gold?” George tries, his heart already sinking. He knows what King Sapnap wants. “Piglins are famous for loving it-”
“He wants you, George,” the King says. “He wants your hand in marriage.”
George wrinkles his nose. King Sapnap is young, yes- barely nineteen years of age, only a year younger than George- but he’s from the Nether. George can’t live in the Nether, not when he’s so connected to the Overworld. It’ll kill him.
He tells his father the King as much. The King sighs.
“That’s why he wants you, I think,” he says. “Victory to the Overworld, and the spirit of the realm in his clutches should we choose to anger him.”
And George- he knows how much this earth needs to heal. It’s been a long six centuries, it’s been a long twenty years. If it kills him, this realm will survive.
He agrees to it.
They build the portal in the gardens the next day. George’s things have been packed into a single bag that’s taken by one of the Nether soldiers that steps through the portal first.
“King Sapnap will greet you on the other side,” another soldier informs him, grasping him by the upper arm. George tears his arm out of the man’s grip with a glare and turns back to his family. With one last goodbye, he steps through the portal and seals his own fate.
He makes a vow to himself, while he can see nothing but purple light. He may become Sapnap’s husband, but he doesn’t need to like the man. He vows to hate Sapnap until the end of his days, whether it comes soon or fast.
The light fades into darkness, and George steps out of the portal. He’s greeted by the overwhelming feeling of wrongness that he knew would come along with being separated from the Overworld. He stumbles, and before any of the soldiers standing around him can even react, there are strong hands on his upper arms. He looks up into the eyes of the most beautiful man he’s ever seen- it has to be the King, if the golden crown on his head is anything to go by.
“What a good first impression,” George says dryly, righting himself even though his heart is threatening to beat outside of his chest. The corners of King Sapnap’s mouth rise, and his eyes crinkle, and he lets out one of the most melodic laughs George has ever heard. He almost smiles, and then he remembers the vow from barely a minute ago. Hatred.
“It’s quite alright, I know how connected to the Overworld you are,” King Sapnap says formally, letting go of George and taking a step back. He holds out one hand, and George shakes it firmly, intent on leaving a bit of a better impression than immediately nearly falling over.
He takes a look around- the Nether is exactly what he’s expected. The high ceilings block out any semblance of sunlight, though the glowstone is magnificently beautiful. They seem to be in some kind of forest realm, and George can see, in the distance, a large fortress that’s bound to belong to the king.
They’re surrounded by soldiers, all of them waiting for George’s arrival, seemingly, or protecting their King. George doesn’t know if Sapnap needs protecting, based on the huge sword strapped to his side. There are a few attendants around as well, and Sapnap holds out an arm to George.
“Come,” he says. “It’s not a far walk.”
It isn’t a far walk, but with every step he takes, George feels his heart growing heavier. His realm is crying out to him, its calls getting fainter and fainter as the scent of this new place takes over. He hates it, a bit, and he hates Sapnap for putting him in this position, and he hates the soldiers that surround them, and he hates-
He loves, actually, the red lights that dance in the trees. He loves the remnants of what could have been a beautiful forest, beautiful in its own right. He loves the nature, because it reminds him a little bit of home.
And then they step onto the cold bricks of the fortress and the red lights are replaced by torches, the forests replaced by a sea of lava. The guards let them in, bowing as they pass, and George immediately hates it again. He hates it all.
“The ceremony will take place this evening,” Sapnap says as the rest of the soldiers following them split off in different directions, apart from one. “I’ll show you to your room where you can prepare, but after that, we’re expected to- uh- share. If that’s okay. If it’s not okay I’m sure we could arrange something-”
And it’s horribly endearing, the way he stammers over his words, and George tries his best not to giggle. Instead he gives a small smile.
“That’s fine,” he says. He can sleep on his own side of the bed and quietly hate his husband from there.
“Alright,” Sapnap says with a sigh. He turns back to the lone soldier that’s been following them. “Oh, this is- this is Bad, he’s kind of like my dad? He’s my mentor, at least.”
“I’m making sure you’re not going to stab him,” Bad offers with a grim smile. George snorts at that. Someone with sense, at least. “It’s a pleasure to meet you though, Prince George.”
“You as well,” George says with a formal nod. Sapnap continues leading them through the halls until they arrive at a small corridor. The room is plain, and George appreciates it.
“I’ll send some of the maids to help you get ready,” Sapnap murmurs, and George nods.
The maids he sends work quietly, and when George looks in the mirror, he almost doesn’t recognize himself. He sighs and lets them guide him down the halls until they arrive at a large throne room, where Sapnap is already waiting, along with a huge amount of people that fall silent when they see him. The rest of the day passes in a blur of movement and vows and signing things, and then he and Sapnap stand on a balcony while people below cheer for them.
George feels like he’s going to pass out.
That night, Sapnap guides him to a different room, offers to help him get ready for bed. He shakes his head, says, “I can take care of myself.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Sapnap murmurs. “Let me take care of you.”
And George doesn’t know if they’re supposed to consummate this marriage or not, but suddenly Sapnap’s hand is on his chin, tilting it up, drawing their faces close together.
“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop,” he says, and George hates him, George hates how soft his voice is, how gentle his touch, how much kindness spills from his eyes.
George doesn’t tell him to stop. George doesn’t tell him to stop, and Sapnap leaves reverent touches along his body, lays him out on the bed and just stares at him.
“What?” George asks, suddenly a bit self-conscious, and Sapnap leans forward to press another kiss to his jawline.
“The tales of your beauty are nothing compared to your grandeur,” he murmurs, and George shivers and connects their lips again.
He wakes up in a tangle of bedsheets and wrapped in Sapnap’s arms. He wakes up every day for the next week wrapped in Sapnap’s arms, and other than that, he doesn’t leave the fortress. He doesn’t even know if he’s allowed to. He trails Sapnap around and talks to him about political things and talks to him about nearly everything and everything, and he’s starting to regret that vow he made to himself.
Because Sapnap is genuine, and he’s compassionate. He’s a good king, George can see that from the way the people in the fortress seem to worship him, the way they hang on to his every word. He’s handsome, which certainly helps George’s opinion of him, but he’s humble. He seems to care about his realm, and he seems to care about George. George doesn’t know how long he’s going to be able to hate him for.
The week passes quickly, and George finds himself longing for something other than the dark bricks that make up his new home. So one night, when he can’t sleep, when his heart craves something this place cannot give him, he slips out of Sapnap’s arms and breezes past the guards to get out of the fortress. No one stops him as he makes his way back to the crimson forests they walked through on the way in.
Being surrounded by nature does something wonderful for his mental state. He actually lets out a laugh as he looks at the world around him. It isn’t home, but perhaps it could be something akin to it.
Sapnap finds him in the morning curled up against the base of a tree. He awakens from his slumber to the worried eyes of his husband. Worried, not angry.
“I was hoping to find you here,” he says gently, helping George stand. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” George replies. “I just needed to be outside.”
Sapnap nods, and they start taking daily walks through the fortress. They travel to different areas of the Nether, and George learns the names of all the different biomes of the realm, chooses his favorite places to go to again and again, and Sapnap follows him. And slowly, George feels any animosity fading away, and he honest-to-gods finds himself falling in love with Sapnap.
And as the months pass, he can feel himself growing weaker. He sleeps longer hours, tries to spend more time outside. Eventually, it comes to a point where he can barely get out of bed without assistance, and he can see the way Sapnap worries about him.
“I’m fine, love,” he lets slip one morning, and Sapnap stares at him like he hung the glowstone above them.
“I’m worried about you,” he replies, and he helps George sit up, and George sags against him. “What do you need?”
George just shakes his head. He needs the Overworld, and Sapnap cannot give that to him. If George returns home, he’ll never be able to come back here.
Unfortunately, he’s not the only one that knows it. Sapnap calls on an old childhood friend, the King of the End. George knows of Dream, knows of his pet dragon and the fabled cities of the realm of the End, and it seems that Dream knows of him, too. But as George lays in bed and tries not to fall asleep, Dream comes up with a diagnosis.
“He’s dying,” Dream says simply. “He’s been away from the Overworld for too long.”
“I knew he was connected to it, but I didn’t know it ran that deeply,” Sapnap replies, and Dream wraps an arm around his shoulders.
Sapnap calls for a portal to be built in the fortress, and he carries George through himself. The minute he feels the sunlight on his face, George knows that everything is going to be okay. He forces himself out of Sapnap’s arms and lets the earth surround him, and Sapnap laughs as he practically rolls around in the dirt.
“Come here,” George says. “It’s nice.”
He holds out his arms, and Sapnap tentatively joins him on the ground. George wraps himself in Sapnap’s embrace, being held by his husband and the earth, and he says, “Can you feel it?”
“Feel what, love?” Sapnap asks.
“The earth breathing,” George replies simply. “It’s happy I’m home.”
And Sapnap frowns down at him, and there’s a look in his eyes that George hasn’t seen before. It’s fear.
“If you need to stay here-” he starts, and George shakes his head, reaches up to place his hands on either side of Sapnap’s face.
“I just need to visit every once in a while,” he says, because alright, he’s backtracking on his vow to hate Sapnap. He loves Sapnap, loves how kind he is and how funny he is and how smart he is. He loves every aspect of Sapnap, and he thinks Sapnap loves every aspect of him. “I want to stay with you.”
And Sapnap smiles brighter than George has ever seen and he reaches down to press their lips together, and George is surrounded by the feeling of home.
He returns to the Overworld a few times a week, spends time in the realm his soul belongs to, and the rest of the time he’s with Sapnap, with the person his heart belongs to. And everything feels right, like it was meant to be- and maybe it was.
The realms are healing, and George is happy, and he stands on a balcony overlooking the Nether and Sapnap presses his lips to the side of George’s neck and wraps strong arms around his waist, and George knows that this- in Sapnap’s arms- is where he really belongs.