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Dream used to be a happy child.
He used to live with his kind, loving parents in a cozy little house in a small village. He used to bake pastries with his mother, who would always laugh and kiss his forehead when he got flour all over his hands. He used to explore the woods with his father, who taught him how to climb trees and catch the frogs in the pond. He used to go to bed every night feeling content and excited for a new day.
But it all went downhill when he was 13. When his mother died from disease, leaving him and his father alone. When his father, stricken with grief, married a strict, wicked woman who always treated Dream harshly. When his father died, leaving him alone with his cruel stepmother at the ripe age of 14. When he went from living a happy, content life with his parents to being nothing more than a servant to his stepfamily, forced to perform dirty chores by day and sleep in the dusty attic by night.
If it weren’t for his stepbrothers, he thinks he might’ve ran away by now. Sam and Punz have always been loving to him, have always treated him like a younger brother. But Lady Puffy is a cruel, mean woman, and not even her sons dare to defy her, meaning that when Dream is sent off to do some strenuous chore, Sam and Punz can only shoot him helpless glances.
They’re his lifelines, though, and their love is the only thing that has kept him from having a breakdown over the past 4 years. When Puffy is away for noble business or resting in her room, Sam will quietly help him clean the chimney or scrub the kitchen floor. When it’s dinnertime and Dream is left with nothing but a couple slices of bread to fill his stomach, Punz will sneak him leftovers from the family’s meal. And some nights, when they think they can risk it, his brothers will creep up to his tiny attic and sleep with him, their warmth keeping him from freezing on the cold floor.
“Dream!”
The yell makes Dream jump, his spatula almost falling out of his hand. He glances down at the eggs sizzling in the pan on the stove and remembers. Right. He’s supposed to be making breakfast for Puffy and his brothers, and for them only. Puffy has made it clear from day one that he’s only allowed to make food for himself after she and her sons have eaten.
He moves quickly, turning off the heat and using the spatula to move the eggs onto three plates, next to the bacon he’d already cooked. The bread has been nicely toasted in the time he’d spent frying the eggs, so he places a slice on each plate. He pours coffee into three cups, places everything on a tray, and carries it all out into the dining room, where his stepfamily is waiting.
Puffy glares at him as he walks in. “What took you so long?” she snaps.
Dream dips his head as he places the tray on the table. “I’m sorry, Stepmother,” he says quietly. “I’ll be faster next time.”
“The food looks great, Dream,” Sam says, clearly trying to cheer him up.
“Yeah,” Punz agrees. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Dream whispers, barely loud enough for his brothers to hear. He can feel Puffy’s eyes on him, so he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he dips his head once more and hurries out of the dining room, leaving his stepfamily to eat.
Back in the kitchen, he begins the routine he’s all too familiar with. Fran’s presence at his side makes it a little bit better, but his heart still hangs heavy in his chest as he gives her her breakfast and brushes her fluffy white fur. When he’s done, he moves onto scrubbing down the countertops, even though he’d scrubbed them yesterday night. It’s not like Puffy cares- she just assigns him the same chores each day to keep him busy and miserable.
A bird lands outside the window, its red feathers gleaming under the sunlight. Dream stares at it mournfully, watching as it pecks at the windowsill with a tiny golden beak. How he wishes he could be like that bird- free to fly, free to roam, free to wander without a care in the world. How he wishes he weren’t trapped here in this house, this prison where he’s forced to toil away at chores day and night, where he’s constantly at his stepmother’s mercy, where he has no time or room to be happy.
Something nudges his foot, snapping him out of his daze. He looks down to see Fran gently prodding his ankle with her nose, her tail wagging softly behind her. She’s reminding him to get back to work, just like she always does. But Dream suspects that the little dog isn’t trying to be mean. He gets the feeling that she’s merely trying to look out for him, telling him to do his chores so that he doesn’t get into trouble with Puffy.
“You’re right,” he sighs, bending down to give her a scratch behind her ears. “I’ll get back to work.” He straightens, swallows the lump of sadness in his throat, and brushes a lone tear away from the corner of his eye. Then, with a heavy heart, he picks up the sponge and gets back to scrubbing.
---
“Mother, this arrived for you.”
Dream looks up from his broom to see Sam handing a tightly sealed envelope to Puffy. He shrinks back into the shadows and watches as his stepmother opens the envelope and pulls out a piece of parchment. “‘To the citizens of the Antarctic Empire’,” she reads. “‘I, Emperor Philza, am pleased to announce that the royal family will be holding a ball to find a spouse for my eldest son, Prince Technoblade.’”
Punz straightens in his chair. “A royal ball?” the blonde inquires as he sneakily pulls something out of his pocket and tosses it to Dream.
Thankfully, Puffy is too engrossed in the letter to notice, and Dream quickly tucks the chocolate bar into the pockets of his dirty hoodie. He makes a mental note to thank Punz later as he turns back to watching his stepmother.
“It appears so,” Puffy says, her eyes glinting as she scans the letter and continues to read it aloud. “‘Anyone who is eligible- that is, noble boys and girls who are of age- may attend to compete for my son’s hand in marriage. The ball will be held tomorrow night at the palace. If you wish to attend, please arrive by no later than 7 o’clock. Sincerely, His Royal Highness Emperor Philza’.”
“Huh,” Sam murmurs. “I didn’t know Prince Technoblade was of age already.”
“Well, he is,” Puffy says. She folds the letter in half and beams proudly at her sons. “Boys, we’re going to the tailor shop to get you two new suits. You’ll be attending the ball tomorrow.”
As Sam and Punz begin peppering Puffy with questions about the ball, Dream stares down at the ash-covered hearth, his heart pounding in his chest. He’s supposed to be sweeping out the fireplace- his sooty hands are a testament to that- but he can’t focus on doing so anymore. Not when this letter has just changed everything.
His 18th birthday is tomorrow, which normally wouldn’t be very exciting. After all, Puffy never cares about his birthday, and Sam and Punz can usually only manage a couple of small gifts for him. But this is different. It’s different because the royal ball is on the day of his birthday, meaning he’ll be just barely eligible to attend it.
He wants to go to that ball more badly than he’s wanted anything in his entire life. Not because he wants to marry Prince Technoblade, but because he wants to break this endless, miserable cycle of hard work and chores. To escape this prison of a house and see the royal palace for the first time. To have an actually good birthday for the first time in 4 years. To be free, even if only for one night.
Even as he clutches the broom and feels his heart pounding with excitement, however, he knows, with an underlying sense of dread, that it’s a lot to hope for. After all, the chance that Puffy lets him go is slim. But it’s there, and he needs to try. He needs to try, or he may be trapped here forever.
As Puffy begins hustling Sam and Punz to the door, Dream steps out of the shadow. “Stepmother?” he says tentatively.
“What?” Puffy snaps, not sparing him a glance as she pulls on a coat.
Dream swallows, trying to build up the courage to say his next words. He closes his eyes, licking his suddenly dry lips and taking a deep breath.
“Could I go to the ball too?”
A heavy silence settles over the room. Dream’s breath hitches with fear as Puffy slowly turns around, a cold expression on her face. Behind her, Sam and Punz hover in place in their fancy coats and shoes, their eyes gleaming with worry.
“Why,” Puffy says softly, her voice deadly calm, “do you think you deserve to go?”
Dream swallows again, shrinking back under his stepmother’s dark gaze. “I- I’m turning 18 tomorrow,” he whispers. “So I’ll be eligible. And I can do all my chores in the morning and afternoon so I can go to the ball. I won’t even talk to Prince Technoblade. I’ll just go to keep Sam and Punz company. Please, Stepmother, let me go.”
There’s a long, tense pause in which Puffy considers Dream, her expression still cold and impassive. Then she turns back around and silently reaches out to open the door. Her hand comes to rest on the doorknob, and she pauses briefly before uttering a single word, one that sends all of Dream’s hopes crashing to the ground.
“No.”
Puffy is out the door not a second later, and Sam and Punz have no choice but to follow, leaving Dream alone in the living room, his broom clutched in his shaking hands, his entire body numb and a single tear trickling down his cheek.
For the rest of the day, he stumbles robotically through his chores, barely paying attention to what he’s doing. He ends up burning the dinner, earning himself a slap on the cheek from Puffy. But he barely feels it through the numbness. He barely feels anything as he scrubs down the kitchen floor, as he chokes down some dinner and Punz’s chocolate bar, as he crawls into his attic and lays down on his thin, dirty mattress and lets himself sob for the first time in years.
He feels nothing. Nothing but deep, overwhelming despair as he closes his eyes and cries himself to sleep.
---
“He’s so small, Sam.”
“I know, Punz, but what can we do? Nothing we say will convince Mother to let him go.”
“I hate it. I hate that she treats him like this. He’s a person, not some animal she can kick around.”
“I know, Punz. I hate it too.”
“... Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“What if we sneak him in?”
“How?”
“Mother’s ordering a carriage to take us there. We could give him one of our old suits to wear and sneak him into the trunk.”
“True, but… Punz, what if Mother catches us?”
“And? He deserves to go to the ball for putting up with the absolute hell Mother puts him through. The least we could do for him is try to sneak him in.”
“... You’re right. Okay, let’s do it.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
(As a cricket sings its freedom from outside, Punz lays down next to his little brother and gently runs his fingers through the blonde’s curls. “We’ll get you into that ball, Dee,” he whispers. “I promise.”)
---
The carriage rumbles over a rough, apparently unpaved road, bumping and jolting with each second. It takes all of Dream’s balancing skills to keep himself from falling over as the carriage jostles again and again, its wheels clicking obnoxiously loud. He pulls his skirts closer to himself and leans against the wall of the trunk, steadying himself with his hands pressed against the floor.
Although the carriage jolts and shakes as it travels down the road, its movements are nothing compared to the pounding of Dream’s heart. It flutters excitedly in his chest, zipping to and fro like a bird- frantic and wild and free. Because he’s heading for the palace right now. Because he’s about to go to the ball. Because for the first time in four years, he’s finally free.
He’s still in shock that he’s actually, truly on his way to the ball. How Sam and Punz had managed to sneak him into the trunk of the carriage without Puffy noticing, he doesn’t know. But he’s here, his body wrapped in an old emerald green dress he’d stolen from Puffy’s room, his feet adorned with a pair of black dancing heels, a few stray curls of his hair held back with a shiny pin. He’s here, on his way to the royal ball, and he’s never been so excited in his life.
Suddenly, the carriage pulls to a halt. Dream sucks in a breath, sitting perfectly still and listening as the passenger doors open. Puffy’s voice drifts through the walls, mixing with Sam and Punz’s. Their footsteps click lightly against the ground, moving away from the carriage and- presumably- towards the palace.
Dream waits until he can no longer hear his brothers’ footsteps before pushing open the trunk door and carefully popping his head out. He gazes around, taking in his surroundings with awe. It’s been so long since he’s gone outside (Puffy had never allowed him to), and now everything looks so… magical . The dark pine trees illuminated by the light of the dying sun. The thin layer of frost on the ground, glinting like diamonds. The deep orange sky, streaked with lines of pink and gold. Even the iron gates he can see out of the corner of his vision look stunning- sleek and silver, like gleaming blades.
Soft chatter draws his attention to a pair of young women walking by. He retracts his head just the tiniest bit and watches as the ladies approach the gates and say something to someone. A moment later, the gates swing open, and the two women glide into the courtyard and disappear from view.
That’s how I get in , Dream thinks. It’s now or never . He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his excitement and nerves. Then, tentatively, he lowers both feet to the ground and turns to take in the royal palace for the first ever time.
It’s a grand building, tall and elegantly built. The walls are made of stone bricks, decorated here and there with chiseled stone bricks. Spruce trapdoors frame huge glass windows, complimenting the massive entrance double doors. It certainly looks fit for an emperor, and Dream… Dream can’t believe he’s finally here. After 18 years, 4 of which were spent locked inside a too-cold house, he’s finally seeing the royal palace.
His heart flutters in his chest as he approaches the iron gates and gives the guard positioned there a nervous smile. “Hello,” he says, reciting what Punz had instructed him to say. “I’m here for the royal ball.”
The guard nods and pushes open the gates. “Through the doors and to the right. Enjoy the ball, sir.”
“Thank you,” Dream says politely. He quickly hurries through the gates and towards the open double doors, his steps in sync with his rapid heartbeat. Golden light shines from inside the palace, warm and inviting, drawing him closer. And he obeys, almost sprinting across the courtyard and through the doors.
He takes a right, just like the guard had instructed, and is immediately overwhelmed as he enters the ballroom. Bright light shining from the chandeliers, music playing from a band in the corner, people laughing as they dance and spin and tilt wine glasses against their lips, their vibrant outfits flashing like jewels. It’s all so much to take in, and Dream is rendered still for a moment as he processes, as he gazes around and slowly absorbs the fact that he’s really here. That he’s really standing in the royal ballroom, that he’s really about to have the best night of his life.
Slowly, very slowly, he takes a step forward. Then another. Then another. And then he’s being swept up by the crowd of people, skirts and elbows and hair brushing against him as dancers whirl past. Their joy is infectious, and he finds himself grinning as he wiggles his hips in time to the music.
A hand touches his shoulder. He jumps, startled, and spins around, heart pounding. Some part of his mind expects to find Puffy standing behind him, a murderous glare on her face, but it’s not Puffy. Instead, it’s the most striking man Dream has ever seen in his life.
The man looks to be about his age- 18 or so. His hair is long and the color of pale pink roses, draped across his shoulder in a neat high ponytail. His shoulders are broad beneath his dark red suit, his frame tall and muscular. His jaw is sharp and angular, matching the high, aristocratic curve of his cheekbones. But the most stunning part about him is his eyes. They’re red, the color of polished rubies, and absolutely beautiful.
One look from those eyes, and Dream is in love.
“Hallo,” the man says, his deep voice causing Dream’s heart to perform a giddy backflip. “May I interest you in a dance?”
There’s a faint blush on the man’s cheeks as he poses the question, and Dream is sure his own cheeks are red too. He wordlessly nods, his mouth too dry to form words. As the man takes his hand, he sucks in a shaky breath, his heart fluttering at the feeling of the large, calloused palms cupping his own.
“Who are you?” he manages to breathe out as the man tugs him closer, one hand drifting down to rest on his waist.
The man chuckles softly, a sound just as deep and lovely as his voice. “I’m Technoblade,” he says. “But you can call me Techno.”
Technoblade . The crown prince. Dream is dancing with the crown prince of the Antarctic Empire right now- the very person this ball is for.
That hadn’t exactly been on his plan for tonight, but he’s definitely not complaining. Especially not when Techno shoots him a warm smile, large hand gently gripping his waist. “Are we goin’ to dance or not?” the pinkette teases, and Dream realizes that he’s been standing still the entire time.
“Sorry!” he yelps, quickly placing his hand on Techno’s shoulder. His cheeks burn as he tightens his grip with his other hand, curling his fingers around Techno’s. They’re larger and fit perfectly with his, and that alone makes his heart soar.
Techno begins to move, and Dream follows, allowing the pinkette to guide him. They dance their way across the ballroom, steps sychronized and matching smiles on their faces. And as they waltz, everything seems to fade away, leaving only the two of them. Leaving only Techno- Techno’s warm hands, Techno’s handsome smile, Techno’s beautiful eyes and pretty hair. And Dream’s heart- fluttering, soaring, singing the sweet melody of love.
As they whirl, Dream grips Techno’s hand tighter and gazes up at the prince. “I never knew you were a dancer,” he says, a little breathlessly.
Techno laughs. “There’s a lot the public doesn’t know about me,” he says. “People seem to think I’m either a deranged psychopath or a nerdy introvert.”
“And which one are you?”
“A mix of both, I suppose.”
Dream giggles, his cheeks warm from Techno’s unwavering attention on him. Those ruby eyes seem to sweep him up and whirl him away as he says, “You’re very funny, for a prince.”
“Are princes supposed to be borin’?” Techno asks teasingly.
“I’ve always thought so. They do seem to just sit around all day and attend dull meetings.”
“I… can’t argue with that, actually. My brother and I do do a lot of sittin’ around and attendin’ dull meetin’s. Not by will, though.”
“How do you live with that?”
Techno flashes a smirk, one that makes Dream almost trip over his own feet. “Technoblade never dies.”
Dream giggles again. It feels so easy to laugh around Techno, to let go of his worries and just laugh like there’s no tomorrow. And he feels like he’s flying, soaring through a sea of fluffy clouds and summer sunshine as Techno whirls him around, hands soft and warm on his waist.
“Nobles are annoyin’, but they can’t kill me,” Techno says, eyes glinting with humor. “Excludin’ you, of course. Actually, are you a noble?”
“I-” Dream hesitates, his mood dampening as he tries to think of what to say. How does he say that his stepmother is a noble, but he might as well be nothing more than a lowly servant? Should he even say anything about his life? About the misery he goes through every day?
“It’s… complicated,” he says at last, not missing the way Techno frowns at the words. “I’m not a noble, but…”
“But what?” Techno squeezes Dream’s hand, mouth tight with concern.
“Nothing,” Dream whispers, looking away. His heart flutters at Techno’s worry, and he suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to spill everything to the pinkette, but he swallows down the ache that has risen in his chest and pushes away the urge. He can’t say. It’s safer if he just stays quiet.
Just then, a clock begins to chime. It rings out 12 times, and Dream’s stomach plummets when he remembers what Sam had told him. Be in the carriage by midnight, so we can go home , the greenete had said. Don’t be late, or you might not be able to sneak into the trunk .
“I gotta go,” he gasps, dropping Techno’s hands and stumbling away. He needs to leave now, or Puffy might catch him. That thought alone has his heart leaping with terror, and he scrambles away, trying to shove through the crowd of people.
“Wait!” Techno cries, reaching out and seizing his wrist. “Wait, wait- can’t you stay a little longer? Please?”
Dream swallows, feeling a painful stab at the pleading expression on Techno’s face. “I’m sorry, but I have to go,” he whispers. “I can’t stay. My st- my brother needs me to come home.”
Techno looks incredibly disappointed and the tiniest bit heartbroken, but the prince nods and releases Dream’s wrist. “Okay. Can I get your name, at least? So I can find you again?”
It occurs to Dream then that… Techno has chosen him. Techno has chosen him out of all people at this ball, and the thought makes Dream’s heart flutter with giddy excitement. He wants to be Techno’s lover, he realizes. He wants to be at the pinkette’s side forever, wants to fall into those muscular arms and stay there, wants to clasp hands with the prince and dance across the ballroom floor and never stop.
But he can think about that later. Right now, he needs to leave before it’s too late. Before he can’t sneak into the trunk anymore. Before Puffy catches him. And as much as he wants to, he can’t give Techno his name. Not when he risks his stepmother finding out and punishing him.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, fighting back tears as he stumbles away. “I can’t.”
“Wait!” Techno calls again, his voice higher pitched than usual, tone filled with desperation. But Dream is already fleeing the room, his green gown billowing around his ankles, his arms wrapped around him and a sob stuck in his throat. He runs, and he runs, and he doesn’t stop running until he reaches the carriage, not even when one of his heels falls right off of his foot.
As he locks himself in the trunk and huddles against the wall, he closes his eyes and wonders, Will I ever be able to see Techno again?
---
In a dimly lit bedroom in the Antarctic Empire palace, the pink-haired crown prince sits on his bed, clutching a black shoe to his chest. He doesn’t look up as the door slams open, as a blonde man enters a room, as a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.
“Techno?” the man asks, wings twitching behind him. “What’s wrong?”
“He was beautiful,” the prince says softly, more to himself than to the man. “Like… like a dream.”
“Who was beautiful, Techno?”
“ He was.” The prince doesn’t elaborate anymore, instead holding the shoe closer to himself as if afraid someone will snatch it away.
The blonde man frowns thoughtfully. “Do you think he’s the one?”
“I know he’s the one.” With a shaky exhale, the prince hunches in on himself. “But he ran. He ran and he dropped this.” He holds up the shoe, sleek and gleaming under the pale candlelight.
“He ran,” the man repeats, his gray wings flexing. “Do you remember what he looked like?”
“I do.” The prince finally looks up at his father, his eyes glinting with steely determination. “And I’m goin’ to find him. I’m not stoppin’ until I do.”
A pause. Then the man squeezes his son’s shoulder, a soft smile of understanding on his face. “I know,” he says gently. “Get some sleep, Techno. And then tomorrow, we’ll go look for him.”
Slowly, the prince smiles up at his father.
“Alright.”
---
The floor is hard under Dream’s knees as he scrubs at the tiles, soap suds leaking all over his fingers. His back aches from hours spent in this position, and there’s still more than half the floor left to go- not to mention the long list of chores he has to do after this, from sweeping out the hearth to cooking lunch to cleaning the windows.
He keeps his head bent as he works, his heart hanging as heavy as the memories that weigh in his mind. Memories of flashing lights, of music, of Techno’s warm, calloused hands holding his own. It had been the best night of his life- a night of freedom and joy and love and- and Techno .
But nothing can good can ever last, and this morning, when Dream had woken up, it had been back to his miserable routine of chores upon chores upon chores. Everything feels ten times worse than usual after the amazing night he’d had, after all the exciting lights and music, after Techno. And there’s no Techno now, no one but himself, his fingers blooming with blisters as he scrubs at the floor. No one but Fran, watching him from a corner, her fluffy tail drooping sadly. No one but his brothers, unable to do anything to comfort him except shoot him glances. No one but his stepmother, her cruel presence looming over him like a dark storm cloud.
His knees ache from being pressed against the hard kitchen tiles, and he already knows that he’ll have bruises there by the time he’s done. But he keeps scrubbing, washing off invisible specks of dirt with his sponge. And as he works, his heart thumps slowly and sadly in his chest, a steady rhythm of Techno, Techno, Techno .
“Dream!”
Puffy’s voice echoes into the kitchen, stern and demanding. Dream sighs, releasing the sponge and standing up. His limbs feel heavy with lead, but he walks briskly out of the kitchen and into the foyer, where Puffy is standing there and waiting for him. There’s an impatient expression on her face as he approaches her, Fran trotting along next to him. “Yes, Stepmother?” he says meekly.
“Dream,” Puffy says again, her lips twisting into a faint scowl. “Get your broom and start cleaning the foyer.”
“But Stepmother, I’m not done scrubbing the kitchen yet.”
“I don’t care!” Puffy snarls, and Dream takes a step back, his shoulders going tense. Puffy has gotten mad at him before, and he’s used to the slaps that come after, but her wrath still makes him afraid. He shrinks into himself as Puffy glares at him, her eyes dark with anger.
“You’re not talking back to me, are you?” she says, her voice deadly calm.
Dream swallows, hunching in further. “No, Stepmother,” he whispers as Fran steps in front of him, seemingly trying to protect him from harm. It’s fruitless, seeing how her little head barely comes up to his knee, but the sight warms his insides and gives him the courage to straighten back up.
“Good. Now, I want this foyer to be spotless. Emperor Philza will be coming to the house in a few hours, and when he does, I don’t want to see a singe speck of dirt. And when you’re done, back to the kitchen to finish cleaning. Understand?”
“Yes, Stepmother.”
“Good,” Puffy repeats. Then she whirls around and storms upstairs, leaving Dream and Fran alone in the foyer.
With a heavy sigh, Dream reaches down and scoops Fran into his arms. “C’mon, girl,” he says softly. “You need to go to Sam’s room while I clean so that your fur doesn’t get everywhere.”
Fran tilts her head at him but doesn’t wiggle away as he carries her up the stairs and releases her into Sam’s bedroom. Then he returns to the foyer, grabs a broom, and begins the long process of sweeping.
As he’s cleaning around the front door, someone touches his shoulder. He jumps, turning around to come face-to-face with Punz. The blonde’s ice blue eyes are filled with sadness, his mouth pressed into a worried line as he holds up a dustpan. “Let me finish sweeping, Dee,” he murmurs. “You go dust down the furniture.”
Dream is in no mood to argue, even though he knows that Punz is taking on the daunting task of sweeping the whole room and assigning him the much easier chore of dusting down the few pieces of furniture in the foyer. Instead, he nods, handing the broom to his brother and going to fetch the feather duster.
The next few hours are spent in gentle silence as he and Punz work together to clean the foyer. At some point, Sam comes down and begins to help, using a rag to wipe down the windows. Working together, the three of them manage to completely clean the foyer in only a couple of hours.
It’s as he’s wiping down a coffee table that Dream pauses and turns to his brothers. “Sam? Punz?” he says. “Why is the emperor coming?”
Punz frowns. “I don’t know. The letter that Mother received didn’t specify too much. All it said was that Emperor Philza and his son will be visiting every home in the kingdom today.”
“Maybe they’re looking for someone,” Sam murmurs as he beats a rug against the wall. “Or maybe they just want to do a survey like the one a couple years back.”
Just then, Puffy comes striding down the stairs, now dressed in an elegant red gown. “Sam! Punz!” she calls. “Why aren’t you two getting ready? Emperor Philza will be arriving in a few minutes!”
Dream watches as Punz scowls at his mother. “We were helping Dream clean,” the blonde says, his tone scathing. “You didn’t seriously expect for him to be able to clean this whole room in two hours, did you?”
Puffy frowns. “Yes,” she says. “You should not have helped him, Punz. He can do perfectly fine on his own. Now, you two- go up and get dressed. As for you, Dream.” She scowls at him as if he’d done something terribly wrong. “Into the kitchen and stay there.”
“Yes, Stepmother,” Dream whispers, setting down his rag and bowing his head. He ignores the worried look Sam shoots him and hurries away into the kitchen, where he sitd down with his back against the cabinets and closes his eyes.
Oh, Techno , he thinks miserably as the memory of pink hair and ruby eyes pops up in his mind. I wish you were here. I wish I could see you again. I- I’d do anything to see you again.
The doorbell rings. Dream doesn’t bother opening his eyes, instead half-listening as Puffy moves to open the door. “Your Royal Highness!” she greets, her voice sugar sweet. “Welcome to my humble home. Please, come in.”
“Thank you, Lady Puffy,” an unfamiliar male voice says. Emperor Philza , Dream thinks idly, bending over to bury his face between his knees.
“So, to what do we owe this pleasure?” he hears Puffy asks.
“I’m lookin’ for someone,” a different voice says, this one deep and monotone. And Dream immediately snaps his head up, his eyes going wide as his heart leaps into his throat.
Because he recognizes that voice.
“Yes,” Emperor Philza agrees. “We’re looking for a boy with blonde hair and green eyes. Have you seen him, Lady Puffy?”
That’s me , Dream realizes dazedly. Techno is looking for me . And before he knows it, he’s standing up and stumbling to the kitchen doorway and peeking out into the foyer.
There, standing in all his glory, is Techno. His rosy hair is loose this time, spilling down his back in a waterfall of silky pink. His broad shoulders are covered with a red cape, his tall form dressed in an elegant white shirt and black pants. And his eyes. They’re just the same as Dream remembers- ruby red and more beautiful than the sun, the moon, the very stars.
Techno is here. He’s here, and he’s so close, and Dream aches to reach out. To take the prince’s hand, to feel those gorgeous eyes trained on him, to see that handsome smile. He aches to just run into the foyer and wrap his arms around Techno and never let go.
But just as he’s about to take a step forward, Puffy lets out a nervous laugh and shuffles sideways so that her body is blocking the view into the kitchen. “Apologies, Your Royal Highness, but I have not seen such a boy.”
“Are you sure?” Techno asks. His eyes roam across the foyer, briefly flicking towards the kitchen, and Dream swallows. So, so close, yet so far. As much as he wants to just run to Techno, he doesn’t dare push past Puffy. Because even after all these years, he’s still afraid. Still afraid of his stepmother, of her cruelty, of her vicious wrath.
And then, as if hearing his silent pleas, Punz steps forward. “Actually, Your Highnesses, we have seen him,” the blonde says. He not-so-subtly nudges Puffy to the side and turns, his eyes locking with Dream’s. “Dee? Come out.”
“No!” Puffy cries, moving to block the kitchen again. But Sam grabs her and pulls her back, his amber eyes shining with a new ferocity. And Dream’s heart begins to pound in his chest, his hands shaking with excitement. This is it. This is his chance to reunite with Techno. To feel those hands on his one more time.
He takes a step out of the kitchen. Then another. Then another. Only a couple of steps, and he’s in the foyer, his heart fluttering, his gaze locked on Techno. Techno, standing tall and beautiful, his beautiful eyes wide with shock and an elated, impossibly handsome smile stretching across his face. “You,” the pinkette breathes.
Dream smiles shakily. “Me,” he agrees, taking a step closer to Techno. His hands twitch, aching to reach out for Techno’s, but he restrains himself.
Emperor Philza considers him, then turns to Techno. “Tech? Is this him?”
Techno nods, still looking a little dazed from shock. “It is,” he whispers. “I know it.”
“Well, just to make sure…” Emperor Philza pulls a black shoe- Dream’s shoe- from the folds of his green robe and sets it on the ground. “Would you please try that on, mate?”
Slowly, Dream lifts his foot and slips it into the shoe. It fits perfectly, just like it had yesterday, when he’d ran right out of it. When he’d escaped the palace in a panic, when he’d locked himself in the trunk of the carriage and wondered whether he’d ever seen Techno again. And now the prince is standing in front of him, impossibly real and close, and as he looks up to meet Techno’s eyes, he can’t help but giggle at the wide smile that breaks out across the pinkette’s face.
“It fits,” Techno murmurs, voice filled with awe. “So it really is you.”
“Yeah,” Dream says. “It’s me. My name is Dream, by the way.”
“What a fittin’ name.” Techno stares at him for a moment, eyes shining. And then the pinkette reaches out, and Dream doesn’t hesitate to close the remaining distance between them. He throws his arms around Techno’s neck and buries his face into the prince’s shoulder, his heart soaring high with joy as warm, muscular arms wrap around his waist, holding him close.
Somewhere, Puffy screams with shock and disgust. Somewhere, Punz whoops and claps his hands. Somewhere, Sam laughs, bright and happy. Somewhere, Emperor Philza chuckles and says, “See, Tech? I told you we’d find him.”
But Dream doesn’t pay attention. Instead, he presses his face further into Techno’s shoulder and breathes in the sweet scent of pine trees. His lover’s warm arms tighten around him, and a deep voice whispers into his ear, “Dream, will you marry me?”
Dream giggles. “Of course I’ll marry you,” he murmurs, his heart leaping again at the idea of getting married to Techno. “As long as I get a fancy wedding dress.”
“I’ll get you the finest weddin’ dress in all the lands,” Techno promises. “Anythin’ for you.”
And Dream smiles, thoughts of wedding dresses and beautiful pine forests and- most importantly- a future with Techno already filling his mind.
Finally, finally , he’s going to be free.