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if a tree falls in the forest

Summary:

Epic doesn't say it, not in front of Lanny, but Dream thinks that the unanimous thought between them and Blue is This fucking sucks. It's perhaps an understatement, but it's the simplest way to sum it all up.

Notes:

predicting this being my last fic before school starts vs knowing i have 46853 vent fics growing in my brain like fungi.

did you know you can undrop out of school? because you can. anyway frankly not sure where this series will go next, i know jackshit about writing politics so i may just skip over that stuff to write more crepic, or i might just write more crepic outside of this series? who knows not me.

warnings: assassination, death of a parent, grief, fear of change, mentioned past dehumanization, past disfigurement but also current if you can call nightmare's goop that.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It's early evening when it happens. The bright sunlight in the throne room has dimmed, and the sky is a deep orange in the west. 

Dream has been staring out the window, watching the colors change. It bores him to listen to cases being pleaded, even if it's important. He'd much rather just wave them away, grant them all, and do something else. 

In contrast, Neil, his guard, has been standing beside him for the two-ish hours they've been here, in perfect parade rest. He looks tired, but that's not unusual. Dream knows he doesn't sleep well — he hasn't since the house fire that took his family's lives, years ago but no easier for him to deal with. 

Nightmare and their mother are quietly discussing something that Dream hasn't paid enough attention to to contribute anything to the conversation, and similar to Neil, Lanny is standing at rest, looking bored. Quetzalcoatl, meanwhile, is leaning on his queen's throne a bit. Dream is sure he'll get told off for it eventually, if his mother notices. 

Eventually, his mother stands, and Dream and Nightmare stand as well, falling in beside her.

Dream has been hungry for the past hour , so at least they'll get to eat now. Neil, Lanny, and Quetzalcoatl have fallen behind them, content to follow their charges instead of walking beside them while in the castle. They'll have their own dinner while Nightmare and Dream dine with their mother. 

Or not, as it turns out. 

Dream has never liked Quetzalcoatl, ever since he was a child. He's stern and frightening, and something about him just scares Dream. Nightmare isn't afraid of him, but he's agreed with Dream that something is just off about him, even before his Grace revealed itself. 

Quetzalcoatl doesn't know about Nightmare's Grace, nor does Lanny. Neil does, but only because he witnessed Nightmare's attack, and heard the nursemaid who attacked him ranting. He'd been sworn to secrecy, an oath he'd taken just as seriously as any other. 

They're nearly out of the throne room when Nightmare turns, looking frenzied, at the group of guards behind them. Neil is immediately in front of Dream, shoving him behind him, and Lanny goes on guard, despite not knowing what's going on. Dream knows she doesn't know about her charge's Grace — Nightmare has told him so — but she's always seemed to know that something is up with him. 

Time seems to slow down. 

Quetzalcoatl lunges, and simultaneously, Dream hears the shing of Neil unsheathing his sword. He's not quick enough, though; before he can even swing, one of Quetzalcoatl's snakes has embedded its teeth in his mother's neck. 

Neil shoves him backwards, and Dream stumbles, nearly falling before Nightmare catches him. Lanny is moving now, but too slowly. Quetzalcoatl's snake is fading now, the deep green magic of its venom leeching into Nim's bones before turning them to dust.

Lanny lets out an anguished scream as her queen dies, but Quetzalcoatl is faster. Another snake shoots from him, deep green with his magical poison, and Dream can't help but sob as it latches onto Neil's left arm, stopping him before he can swing his sword. His guard makes a horrible, choked sound, and Dream runs to him, uncaring of the danger. 

He grabs Neil's arm, heedless of the poison running up it, and forces as much healing intent as he can muster into it, picturing it going down, down, down to Neil's fingertips and pushing the poison out through his claws. His guard writhes in his lap, pain ravaging his system. 

Above him, there's an unnatural growl, and when he dares to look… 

It's his brother. 

Nightmare has dug his claws so far into Quetzalcoatl's neck that blood is squirting out around his claws. A strange, viscous substance covers his fingers, black as pitch, and Dream can't tell if it's from his brother or from Quetzalcoatl. 

Lanny pants, her sword raised, though her focus is on her charge. She doesn't say anything until Quetzalcoatl's body goes limp, held up only by Nightmare's hands around his neck. Then, all she says is, "My Queen…" 

Dream just sobs, still trying to heal Neil's arm. He hasn't dusted yet, which is a good sign — Quetzalcoatl's magic works so quickly that it scared Dream even before this — but he can't keep this up forever.

The world blurs as Nightmare drops Quetzalcoatl's body, slumping to the floor beside Dream. In his lap, Neil gasps for breath, but he's alive. Lanny disappears for a moment, and then she returns, and there are people everywhere. 

Someone takes Neil from him, and someone else is sweeping up what used to be his mother into a temporary urn. Dream wails, clutching his brother as someone tries to take him, too. 

"No, no, no no — !" 

When he finally becomes aware of himself again, it's quiet. Dream blinks, hardly aware of his tears, taking stock of himself. He's back in his bedroom, tucked in tightly, and the door is closed. Shakily, he untwists himself from the sheets, and makes his way towards the door. 

When he unlatches the door between his bedroom and his sitting room, two pairs of eyes meet his own. On his couch sits Blue, one of the guards he's acquainted with, and near the door stands Epic. They both look concerned, and while Blue opens his mouth and closes it like a fish out of water, Epic simply walks up to Dream and hugs him tightly. 

Dream breaks down, crumpling to the floor and taking Epic with him. "Shh, shh, I know," Epic mutters as he sobs, holding him tightly. "I know."

He feels Blue on his other side, taking them both into a hug. When Dream finally lets go, they're both blurry from his tears. "Mom…?" he asks, but he already knows. 

"Yeah," Epic mumbles. "Yeah." 

"I'm sorry," Blue says, but they all know it's hollow. 

"Nightmare…?" Dream gasps, "And, and Neil?"

"Nightmare is fine," Epic says, "but he's locked himself in his rooms. The only people who have been in there are Killer and Lanny, and Lanny only because she forced her way past Killer. Neil is…" 

"He's okay," Blue continues quietly. "He… wanted to talk to you before you heard, but…" 

"He's awake, actually," Lanny has appeared from Neil's quarters, attached to Dream's sitting room by a small door. She looks worse for wear, just as the rest of them, but from the sound of it, she's been in charge of everything. "Woke up a lot sooner than the healers thought he would." 

"What happened?!" Dream demands. "Is he okay?" 

Lanny frowns, her wings drooping. "Blue will be taking over his position as your guard, either permanently or until you choose someone more suitable," she says softly. "Neil plans on retiring. There will probably be more restructuring, but Nightmare will handle that once he… feels better." 

"What's wrong with Nightmare?!" 

"He's sick with grief," Lanny replies. "Killer is taking care of him. He doesn't want anyone else in his rooms — even me." She seems unhappy, but Dream knows that Nightmare was never quite comfortable with her. Not the way that Dream was with Neil. 

Lanny seems to be on a similar track, and says, "I don't think he'll want to see you, Lord Prince. But Neil would like to, if you're up to it." 

Dream nods faster than is safe, because coupled with standing suddenly, it makes his head spin. Lanny helps him up, taking him by the arm. "I'll take care of him for now, Blue," Lanny says as she keeps Dream upright. 

"Yes ma'am," Blue says. 

"We'll be around," Epic says with a sigh. He doesn't say it, not in front of Lanny, but Dream thinks that the unanimous thought between them and Blue is This fucking sucks. It's perhaps an understatement, but it's the simplest way to sum it all up. 

Lanny is quiet as she holds the door for Dream, and they walk through the corridors silently. There's much hustle and bustle, servants running around setting things up for the funeral… 

Dream always thought his mother would rule through her old age. He chokes a little, trying to hold back a sob, but Lanny sees it. 

"I know," she murmurs, putting a hand between his shoulders. "I know." 

There are no words between them beyond that as she leads Dream to the infirmary, but she stops just before the door. 

"Neil is very injured," she tells him. "But he's alive, and he asked for you." 

"Is he…" Dream isn't sure what he wants to ask, at first. "Is he out of the woods?" 

"Yes," Lanny says immediately, and the surety of that calms him just as quickly. "He's very injured, but he will recover." 

Lanny makes no move to enter the infirmary, so Dream pushes the door open himself. It's quiet, and bright with late morning sunlight streaming through the large windows. At the far end of the room, someone has set up a privacy curtain, and beyond that a single bed and its occupant are silhouetted. 

No one stops Dream as he darts to the end of the room, stopping before the curtain. He takes a deep breath before he finally steps past it. 

In the bed, Neil's ear twitches at the sound of Dream's footsteps. It takes a moment for the guard to push himself up, and Dream immediately sees why. 

"Your arm!"

Neil snorts. "Would've been the rest of me if it wasn't for you, kiddo." 

Carefully, Dream sits on the edge of the bed, and Neil scoots to make room for him. He doesn't seem too worse for wear — save, of course, for his missing left arm. "Does it hurt?" 

"A little," Neil shrugs. "But it hurt a lot more when it was still attached to me." 

Dream nods, fidgeting a bit. "Lanny said that you're retiring." 

"How am I supposed to protect you with a missing arm?" Neil replies bitterly. With a sigh, he says, "Blue will do a good job, if you decide to keep him on."

"Mom is gone, and Nighty is going to be king, and Lanny said there will probably be more restructuring —" Dream chokes on a sob. "I don't want you to leave, too!" 

"Hey," Neil sits up with a bit of a grunt, pushing himself up with one hand as best he can. "I'm not going anywhere, little dreamer," he says. "I'm going to be around. And Nightmare is going to be around, too." 

"He's locked himself away," Dream sniffs. Awkwardly, Neil throws his arm around him, pulling him close. "Lanny said that — that he's only letting Killer in, and he probably won't — won't let me in…" 

"He's grieving," Neil replies patiently. "You two have always been very different, so you're grieving differently too." 

"I don't want things to change. And — and I don't want to — to deal with this all on my own!" 

Neil sighs, and squeezes Dream's shoulder. "I know. You aren't dealing with it alone, though." He smiles, a bit lopsided, at Dream's incredulous stare. "I may not be fit to guard you anymore, but I promised your mother I'd keep you and Nightmare safe as long as I live. Doesn't stop just because I've lost an arm, trust me." 

"...It must have been awful when you lost your family," Dream says unthinkingly. Neil tenses, but says nothing. "I feel like — like my soul is breaking in half, and that's just from my mom… you lost everyone."

"...Yeah," Neil agrees. "It was awful. But… eventually it hurts a little less. The wound gets a little less raw." After a moment, he says, "You should try to speak to your brother."

"Lanny said he's only letting Killer in." 

"You and I both know how Nightmare feels about Lanny," Neil snorts, and Dream giggles in agreement. "I'm sure she's pleased not to be dealing with his mood swings right now, either." 

"Killer quite enjoys those, though," Dream titters. "Bit of a masochist."

Neil hums in agreement. More seriously, he says, "Don't you be one, though, little dreamer. You have people who want to help you, so don't try to shoulder this alone." Instead of responding, Dream fidgets again, not making eye contact. "Let me fulfill my promise to your mother somehow. I can't protect you with one arm, but I can be a shoulder for you to lean on." 

Dream laughs wetly, "Is that a joke? Because they left your shoulder?" 

"You spend far too much time with Epic, Lord Prince," Neil chuckles. "But if it makes you happy, yes, it's a pun. Unintended." 


With a heavy sigh, Killer shuts the door between Nightmare's sitting room and the hall beyond. It's nearing evening, one whole day since Queen Nim had died. 

Killer hadn't had any great love for her, but he had respect for her in spades, which he supposes is the same sort of thing. Nightmare had saved him from ending up on Arbre's streets after his flight from the Sands, but Nim had been one of the first people to treat him like a person rather than a roach. He had half expected to be shooed from her court without an audience, but she had surprised him, and he was more thankful for it than anything, save for Nightmare taking him in as a stableboy. 

Lanny, however… Killer feels for her. She'd come to report several times with tears in her eyes for her Queen, and every time Killer bit his tongue. He wanted to tell her to take a break. But Quetzalcoatl had been Nim's guard, and with Neil injured, coordinating protection for the castle and its royalty fell to her and her alone. 

It's technically Ccino's job to tidy up, but Nightmare had snarled at him when he'd tried to enter before, so Killer closes the curtains and lights the lamps in the sitting room. Then, bracing himself slightly, he knocks on the door to the bedroom, slowly opening the door when he gets no answer. 

Nightmare hasn't moved since he went to bed yesterday. He's sat up and laid back down, but that's about it. The only sign of life as Killer enters the rapidly darkening room is his cyan eyelight, following Killer as he lights the lamp beside the door. 

He steps closer to light the one beside the bed, and Nightmare gives him a look. Killer can't quite place it — surprise, maybe, that Killer isn't afraid of or disgusted by him. 

Nightmare had already looked strange to most people when Killer had arrived in Arbre years ago, with a caved in skull and only one eye socket remaining. An injury from a nursemaid with a grudge against the royal family, the rumors said, although it wasn't long into their relationship that Nightmare confided in him the real reasoning for the attack. 

It had left him looking rather frightening, though Killer had never minded. He was from the Sands, and he wasn't pretty. He was used to seeing the ugly and frightening and disfigured as people when others didn't. 

In the lamplight, Nightmare looks worse for wear, covered in a black substance that's steadily coating his bones. It's slightly sticky, like tree sap, but just a bit less viscous, and it shimmers in the light of the lamp like the moon on the ocean. It's even filled in the gouge in his skull, and Killer can barely see the dent from the hole beneath it anymore. 

"What did Lanny want?" Nightmare asks. His voice is slightly deeper now, and Killer resists the urge to comment flirtatiously on it.

Killer sits on the bed beside him, displacing his prince with a bounce. "Just checking in, y'know. She said Dream's awake and doing fine. He was asking for you." 

Nightmare doesn't answer, just looks to his lap like it holds the secrets of the universe. Quietly, he says, "I don't want him to see me like this." 

"...I know you don't want to hear it," Killer says softly, "but I don't think it's going to get better." 

At Nightmare's back, something flares, like the hackles of a cat. Killer looks at it with interest that must show, because Nightmare grumbles, "It's been doing that all day — whenever I get frustrated." 

"Lean forward a little?" Nightmare does as he asks, though he doesn't look pleased. He sags a bit when Killer touches him. Whatever the substance is, it's collecting on his spine more than anywhere else, resting in a spiral of four growths, tapered like tree roots. When he touches near the base of one, Nightmare gives a pleased little rumble — likely unconscious, given his body language — and when he pokes near the end, it wags a bit like a cat's tail. "...Tails?" 

"What?" 

"They're like… tails, or something," Killer says, urging Nightmare to lean back now that he's done looking. "They're cute," he grins, giving into the urge to be just a bit flirtatious. 

"...Just another thing people will find frightening," Nightmare sighs, burying his face in his hands. "I'm not my mother. I don't know what I'm going to do, looking like this." 

"You look fine," Killer says, leaning against him. "People have emotion-induced magic issues all the time, and it's well-known you were close to her." 

Nightmare just grunts. "The only good thing about this is that it covers the hole." 

"I like it. Makes you look all regal 'nd such," he grins, and Nightmare finally chuckles. "There you are." 

"You don't need to stay, Killer," Nightmare sighs.

"Not like I've got anywhere better to be," Killer shrugs, leaning back against the headboard. He pulls Nightmare back to recline a bit. "Now you, on the other hand, need to rest. Grief is exhausting, even when you're not the crown prince." 

Nightmare just sighs again, but it's that amused sigh that he gives whenever Killer says or does something particularly stupid or silly. "I'm not sure what I would do without you," he murmurs, leaning over to nuzzle Killer's face a bit. It leaves a bit of a residue on his cheek that Nightmare frowns at. 

"Don't look like that — we match now," Killer laughs, swiping a finger below his eye socket to collect the blackness. With quick fingers, he smears it beneath Nightmare's good eye, and to his surprise, it remains there. 

"That we do," Nightmare snorts, finally leaning back fully. "There must be some measure of control that I can learn with this…" 

"You can learn it tomorrow," Killer tells him with finality, snuffing the bedside lamp with his fingers, and the one near the door with a well-placed knife construct. "Right now you need to relax." 

In the near-darkness, lit only by Killer's soul, Nightmare laughs outright this time. "You sound like my mother." The laughter tapers off into another sigh. "I miss her already." 

"I know," Killer says, because that's all he can say. Anything else feels too hollow. 

Nightmare says nothing more, just curls up against Killer. The cyan of his eyelight disappears not long after, claimed by fitful sleep. Killer shifts a bit to get comfortable, settling in for a long night.