Work Text:
George was well aware of the rumours from the villagers and how they were big lies. There was always some kind of unknown monster (besides the usual zombie or skeleton) that could sneak up on you on every corner.
On the seas, there were the Guardians. In other dimensions, there were the Ghasts and a Dragon. Underground there was a beast that fed off souls which kept its heart beating.
So when he got a book about big cities with helpful treasures underground, George didn't see a reason not to go. Every one of the villagers was warning him about the big dangerous monster, but how hard would it be to kill it, if it existed somewhere?
“If you don't return in three days, Sap and I will go after you.” His oldest friend Bad said, pressing a new clock and a bag with fresh muffins in his hands.
“It'll be fine, but thank you, Bad.” With that, George turned around and walked inside a cave.
For hours, all he did was go down, kill the usual amount of common monsters and stop to take sips of water. It was nearing the night when George noticed all got quiet.
No more stray bats. No spiders hissing. No zombies groaning. No skeletons rattling their bones.
And then he fell.
He woke up slightly disoriented, feeling wool under the palms of his hands, and seeing absolutely nothing. Now and then there was a low clicking noise like the redstone vigilance system that Sam had at his base.
Lifting his head he could see what he had been looking for all this time.
A big city with grey bricks, a big structure in the middle, and candles lit up some areas of the structure. And yet, vines dotted with white were everywhere, as if corrupting the structure that once was a city. On the floor, a plant that looked sentient was waving around its leaves, and what seemed to be a receptor with sensors in the four corners made the clicking, emitting some sort of light at every click.
Sitting up and grabbing his bag, George slowly got up and, seeing a ladder to his left, he slowly went down to the floor level. And tiptoeing on top of the wool, he got to admire the weirdly wonderful clash of the past and present state of the place.
And then a bat dared to enter the city, squeaking its way around. And George couldn't see anything, even while turning around knowing there was supposed to be a lit candle to his right.
And the noise began.
As if the ground was tearing itself apart from beneath, George could feel a slight tremble from under his shoes. Suddenly, all stopped, the sniffling started, and the darkness covering his vision started flashing. The brief recognition of the monster was enough to make him start to panic, back up against a wall and try to control his breathing. Blue souls pulsed on his open ribcage and vines hung from his horns. All its movements were clunky and went wherever the little bat made noise.
In a second, it reached an arm up and the bat landed on its hand, dropping a considerable amount of rotten flesh on its palm. The monster grumbled a bit and the bat squeaked back as if in a conversation. And in another second, the bat flew away. Intact.
The monster dropped down, sitting on a broken part of the wall, and started munching on the flesh, grumbling a bit as he swallowed.
George then made the awful mistake of dropping his clock, making the monster snap its head around.
“Who’s there?” George felt he could pass out at any second. “Please don’t hurt me. I’ll just finish eating and I’ll go back.” It could speak and had emotions. George then, cleared his throat, trying to stabilise his voice and make it deeper.
“I came to explore. Looking for Echo Shards.”
“Oh. Don’t mind me, then. They’re probably in the chests under the portal area.” The creature returned to eating peacefully while George went to the indicated area. He gasped when he opened a chest full of the shards. “Did you find it?”
“Yes.” George opened his bag, collecting the amount he needed and some extra. When he got up to go back, he saw the monster chatting with the little plants around with some thrill and clicking. “Who are you?” George couldn’t help blurting it out.
“I’m Dream.” It said simply.
“What are you? And who names itself Dream?”
“I’m a Warden. My momma named me Dream. She called me her Dreamy Boy” It, he, said wistfully.
“Huh. Your species reproduces?”
“Of course we do. And who are you to ask me these questions?” Dream turned around to stare at him, even without eyes.
“I’m George. A human.”
“I know that. Are you going to come here often, George?” George could almost see the creature perking up excitedly.
“Probably not. By the way, do you know the way out?”
“You fell from there.” He points up to the ceiling. “But if you follow the blue wool path, there’s a better way out. Your people built it some decades ago. I closed it but a button on the floor opens the door for some seconds.”
“You saw me fall? Aren't you blind?” George bluntly asks.
“You are a curious person.” And then, the creature started shrinking, leaving in his place a tall man with dirty blond hair and speckles of green on his neck, piercing green eyes and a strong jaw.
“Oh.” George subconsciously started going backwards in the direction of the exit.
“Yeah. I think you should leave now.”
“Thanks for the help.” He mumbles when reaching the door, quickly pressing the button and running the path out of the cave.
The next time George saw Dream was almost a full year later when he arrived at the nearest village to the cave's exit.
He was in his human form with a black crewneck sweater, hiding all the green in his neck.
“What are you doing outside?”
“Huh? Oh, George! Hello!” Dream seemed fairly excited to see him again.
“I won't repeat myself.”
“Sorry.” Dream looked deflated. “They saw you getting out with a full bag of treasures. They went inside, stole everything, and burned all.” He fidgets with the ribbing of the sweater.
“I'm sorry they did this. I'm glad you're fine.” George mumbles, feeling the heaviness of his responsibilities.
“Well, at least I get to enjoy the outside world. Everything is so pretty and colourful.”
“I suppose it is.” George looks around. “Did you get a house here?”
“No, I have some space in the barn where I help to take care of the animals.” Dream points to a rickety building.
George sighs and adjusts the strap of the bag on his shoulder. “Go get your things. You’re coming with me.”
“There’s no need to, George.”
“I made them destroy your home. The least I can do is bring you to a safe place.” George reassures him. “You better go or we’re getting home in the dark.”
It was almost night when they arrived at Kinoko. Traveling with Dream was something. The man was almost always with his mind somewhere else. When going through the flower forest, he stopped at every new patch of flowers, collecting one of each and sticking their stems in his pouch with water. He managed to make friends with the bees that flew around the forest and his eyes gleamed with happiness at every new experience. George now considered himself a powerful man, since if he was weak, he would plant a kiss on the smile that appeared on the taller face at every discovery.
The peak of their travels was getting into the gates of Kinoko. “It’s so pretty.”
“Yes, it is. You’re staying in my spare bedroom for some days until we find you an empty house and… Dream?” When he noticed he was speaking with the air, he looked behind finding Dream plopped on the ground, being rubbed on by a cat. “Huh.”
“Yes, darling, I know.” He chuckled while petting the cat, who decided to start meowing. “I have to go now. I can find you tomorrow. Maybe I’ll even find you some fish.” Dream grabs the cat, puts it on the floor, and gets up.
“Are you finished?” George stared at him with a raised eyebrow and a small smile.
“Yeah, sorry.” Dream sprints to reach him and falls into step beside him.
They keep walking until they almost reach George’s house. “You have a friend.” George says nudging Dream’s shoulder when he notices the cat trailing after them.
“Oops.” Dream kneels on the ground. “You can’t come inside. You have to stay here.” He says to the cat with a serious face, receiving meows of protest.
“She can come inside. I don’t mind.”
“She?”
“Yes. She was left at the entrance of the city when she was a kitty. Everyone cares for her, even if she doesn’t like to be petted.” George says while fishing out the house keys from his bag.
Living in a house with Dream and Patches (named after the patches of different coloured fur on her body) was peaceful. Dream was a clumsy yet organized person. He could trip on thin air but if he broke something, he made an effort to fix it or get a replacement.
Soon, Bad welcomed Dream under his wings, just like he had with all the other boys at Kinoko, and started teaching him the “art”.
This art always changes depending on the person learning it. For Sapnap, it was strength and the ability to fight and defend himself. For Ant, it was quick thinking and knowledge of potions. For George, it was a great deal of knowledge about maps and specks of the other boy's arts. This made them mash very well together.
But when Dream arrived home with a handmade bow with a quiver full of arrows, carrying two rabbits on his shoulder, George was shocked. “What's Bad teaching you?”
“Mostly crafting, but also hunting.” Dream said while setting the rabbits down on the kitchen counter and taking the quiver off his back.
“That’s fun.” George looks behind himself, seeing Patches rushing toward them and rubbing herself on Dream’s legs. “I’ll begin dinner, then”
“I can clean the rabbits. Bad taught me today.” Dream looks at him excitedly, making George warm up on the inside. At the end of the whole dinner ordeal, the food ends up being delicious and even Patches enjoys some crumbles.
Dream bringing stuff home soon becomes a habit. One day is a piece of deer meat, the other is a set of carved bamboo cups, and soon, the things begin to be more significant and that demands more effort to be made, like carved rings or little tokens. By the next month, Dream insists on making them dinner and starts doing it every night, always presenting the bowl of food to George with the brightest smile and sparkling eyes.
It's almost like the other shoe will drop and break them.
The other shoe drops another month later when Dream finishes plating up their dinner portions of rice and fish and, after putting their bowls on their places at the table, drops a kiss against George’s lips.
It's almost as if nothing is happening because he goes to his place and sits down with a light blush on his face.
“Why did you do this?” George looked up at Dream in shock.
“I gave you a necklace. With a sculk pendant and sculk vines in between.” Dream says with an obvious voice.
“Yes, you did.”
“And you accepted it. Like everything else.”
“Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?” George starts to get irritated. “That still doesn't change anything.”
“Of course it does. You're wearing my vines. You accepted us being partners.” Dream frowns up.
“Partners? Romantic partners?”
“Yes, George. I spent all this time courting you. Now you accepted it.”
“No, Dream. This is not how it works up here. In the normal world, people talk. You just don't go around giving things to those you want to date and expect them to know what's happening.” George can feel anger bubbling up on his fingertips. Hastily, he reaches up to his neck, finds the necklace clasp and opens it up. The loss of the cold from the vines feels weird against his neck. “I don't want it anymore.” He throws it near Dream's hand on the table and stares at his face.
Dream’s eyes widen and water up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it was different. I… I should go.” He hastily gets up, sprints to his room, and, a few minutes later, goes out through the front door. George’s heart clenches as if it wouldn’t mind if Dream’s idea was true.
The sculk vines that are woven into the necklace forgotten on the table wilt from their deep green colour to a sickly grey.
It takes two days of Dream not being home at all for Sapnap to bang on the front door in the early morning. “What is it, Sapnap?” George says tiredly rubbing the crusties out of his eye.
“What is it? Really George?” Sapnap frowns and stares firmly at him. “What’s happening is that I have a Warden guy sleeping in the military training centre. Because he doesn’t have anywhere to go anymore. Because he doesn’t have a home anymore.”
“Dream’s still in Kinoko?” George gasps. “His stuff is still in his room. He still has a room to come back to.”
“It’s your responsibility to tell him that then. Because he’s dimming. The souls on his chest are gone, George. And his horns fell off yesterday.” George feels his brain stop working.
“He’s not human anymore?” Sapnap then huffs and takes George’s wrist, dragging him all the way to the military building.
“He’s in my office. You’ll go there, you’ll apologize, and you’ll take him home with you. And, most of all, you’ll stop being dense. Because I’ve seen that man treat you like the most important person in the whole world and I’ve seen you give him loving eyes every time you bump into each other during the day.” Sapnap vents at him while half pulling him all the way to the top floor where his office is. “Go.” He opens the door, pushes George inside, and closes the door.
Looking around the room, George saw Dream. In his Warden form, with the green of his skin just as grey as the vines on the necklace, all curved into a ball in the corner of the room, and with a low wheezing snore coming from his mouth.
Kneeling down beside him, George slowly squeezes his shoulder. “Dream, wake up. Let’s go home.” He drags his hand down Dream’s back. And then George sees darkness just like the first time they met. His breath hitches and he keeps his hand firmly on Dream’s shoulder so as to not stumble in the room. “Dream?”
“Why are you here?” His voice sounds hoarse and tired. Dream’s hand wraps slowly around his wrist, taking his hand off his shoulder. George grips his wrist back in a panic. “Oh, sorry.”
In a second, the darkness disappears again. George almost wishes it would stay. Even in his Warden form, Dream has bags under his eyes and, like Sapnap had said, no souls on his chest.
“I’m sorry.” George blurts before he can help himself. “I’m sorry that I didn’t notice you trying to court me. I’m sorry that I returned the necklace. I should’ve noticed it earlier and told him about our traditions.” His heart breaks at the sight of tears running down Dream’s face. “We can go home if you want and we’ll do this the right way.” George reaches to dry Dream’s tears and he turns human under George’s touch. “Your little sculk plant in your room is missing you. Patches has been in your room all this time too.”
It takes almost five months for things to go back to normal. Dream is quieter at home and, this time, it feels like George is doing the courting, always bringing something back home and making sure to get Dream comfortable. Their relationship progresses in slow steps, but soon they’re comfortable enough to cuddle on the couch under the same blanket while they do their separate things, Dream doing something with two needles and a bunch of spun wool and George reading his book. Their relationship feels solid when George begins to wear the necklace again. The sculk green being more deep than ever and sometimes extending themselves up George’s neck.
All culminates on a wintery night when, after dinner, Dream goes up to his room and comes back with a little pouch. He grabs George’s hand, palm up, and drops the pouch content on his hand. Two metal braided rings sit beautifully on his palm. One of them had what looked to be lapiz lazuli embedded in the metal and the other, had some small emerald specks.
“You said the other day that we needed to communicate everything. So I’m communicating. I want us to be together forever, Georgie. So I made these rings. Bad told me that some people do ceremonies to exchange them but I don’t feel like we need a ceremony just to show people that we are special to one another.” Dream says with a certainty that leaves George gasping. “This one is yours,” He points at the lapiz one. “and this is mine.” He points at the emerald one. “You don’t have to put it on if you don’t want to. I just want for you to be aware of my intentions, unlike last time.”
George lifts Dream’s head, staring into his eyes, and picks his ring up, sliding it down his finger. He can see Dream’s breath hitch and a small smile pull at the corners of his mouth. George then picks Dream's hand up, sliding the emerald ring on his finger.
“There. Now we belong to each other.”
The next morning, they wake up in the same bed, cuddling the cold away even with nothing separating their skins.