The King's Obligation

Enough About Me, What About You?

Nightfall is brought. The sun fading into the moon and stars begin to twinkle in the sky. Dream stands at the edge of the king's bed, his back turned to him as he changes into his nightclothes. "I'm sorry about Bad earlier," George says.

Dream shrugs his shoulders. "It's not your fault, no need to apologize."

"I just kinda feel guilty about it. Bad is absurdly protective sometimes and you didn't deserve to get snapped at."

"Again, it's not your fault he's like that. Besides, I can't really blame him, especially after your parents dea-"

Dream catches his tongue, realizing he's overstepping his boundaries. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought that u-"

George cuts him off. "No, no, it-it's fine, really. You do have a point, I understand that Bad is just trying to do his best to help me to be a good king. I can't imagine it's an easy job for him. I just sometimes wished he wasn't breathing down my neck so much."

"You and me both your highness."

"You can turn around, by the way, I'm done changing."

Dream turns around, standing there is George in his nightwear apparel. A plain, white nightgown with white knee-high stockings. "You look dapper, your highness." Dream says with a tinge of sarcasm.

George rolls his light brown eyes back with a smile. "I still think it's stupid that you have to sleep in a spare room right beside me though, like. What's the worst that could happen overnight."

"According to Bad, you getting stabbed."

George makes his way to his massive, king-sized bed and falls back on it, letting his soft mattress catch his fall. "Yeah, well that's Bad for you. Besides, enough about me, I wanna know more about you."

Dream's body tingles all over with goosebumps. "M-me?" He stammers.

George looks up at his friend. "Yeah, you. You've been my knight for pretty much a year now, yet I feel like I don't really know you personally."

Dream begins to sweat bullets, making the helmet he's wearing much harder to bear keep on. He places a hand on the back of his neck. "Well, I mean. I'm just one of your servants, you don't need to know anything about me."

George frowns while moving to sit up. "Don't say that, you aren't just a servant. You're my friend. I feel like I know you, but I don't know anything about you or your past."

Dream's mind freezes as he begins to recall memories from his past. Both good memories and memories he'd much rather forget. "My past isn't something I'm too comfortable talking about."

"Ok, then we won't talk about your past."

George pats the space beside where he sits, inviting Dream to come. At first, he's hesitant but eventually comes to sit down beside the king. He's tense, his whole body feels tight and he can barely breathe. Dream prays to any gods out there that George won't nag him about his past. Dream feels a hand planted on his shoulder. He looks over at George. His face is soft and his eyes carry worry. He speaks softly. "Dream, you don't need to be so uptight, it's just me."

Dream continues to stare at the man. His face, angular in shape, his cheekbones being the most defined part of that face. His gaze is gentle and sweet. The way his hand lands on Dream's shoulder is one of care. "Your majesty." Dream says.

"Oh please, you don't need to call me that when we're alone. Just George is fine."

There's a vulnerability in George's words. Dream relaxes his shoulders slightly. "Ok, G-George."

George's smile is sweet like honey, giving his face a warm glow that is akin to that of the embers of a fire radiating off one's skin. He removes his hand, letting it fall into his lap. "Now, first question,"

Dream braces himself. George flicks his helmet. "What's with wearing this all the time?"

Dream brings his hands up to either side of his knight's helmet, making sure it's still properly in place. "What do you mean?"

" I mean, I've never seen you take it off. Not even when it's just the two of us, so what gives?"

Dream feared he'd ask that. He grits his teeth to try and chew away at his nerves. "You got some sort of nasty scar or a birth defect underneath that hunk of metal?"

"What? No, my face is just fine."

"Then why don't you ever take it off?"

Dream jumbles around excuses in his head, trying to find a believable reason for wearing this rather inconvenient, stuffy metallic helmet. George begins to scratch his head. "Come to think of it, word has it nobody has ever really seen your face."

"That'd be true. Before I became a knight I simply wore a black mask that covered everything other than my eyes." Dream chimes in.
"Is that so?"

Dream nods his head. George leans in closer, like a curious toddler. "So what gives? Why don't you show your face?"

Dream swallows a ball of nerves in the back of his throat. "Image..." He manages to say.

"Image?"

"Y-yeah...Like, the way people perceive you..."

"Are you scared that people will see you differently if they see your face?"

Dream nods his head slightly, tilting his head to look away. "Well, I don't think that's true," George says.

Dream quietly laughs to himself. "Yeah, well that's easy for you to say. You're not the one trying to protect their identity."

"Your identity?"

"Yes,"

Dream turns around, looking at George. He looks concerned, a small pout drawn out on his lips. Everything about this situation feels weird to Dream, he understands George wanting to know more about him. If he were in his shoes, he'd want to know more about the person tasked and swore to protect him at all hours of the day. However, he does not know why he finds himself opening up so easily to him, it's a dangerous game to be playing.
Dream guards his heart with his answer. "Yes, my identity,"

He knocks on his helmet, the reverb from the clanging on the metal echoes through the room. "This helmet hides my face, my identity. You know, since your face is the most identifiable part of one's body."

George slouches back, looking to be slightly irritated that he isn't getting the answers he wants. "Well, I knew that, but unless you're a criminal or something. I don't see why you'd have to hide your face."

Dream feels his throat close in. "I don't mean to sound rude here your mag-I mean George, but are you suggesting I'm a criminal?"

George jolts up, almost offended by the question. "A criminal? No!"

He plunges his hand forward, grasping hold of Dream's. Dream is taken aback by this action but does nothing. "No, no, no! I don't think you're a criminal. I mean, you wouldn't be my personal knight if you were one."

George can feel the tenseness in Dream's knuckles. He draws back a bit, taking his hand off of Dream's. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be prying you about this. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Dream chuckles. "It's fine. I was teasing you slightly and you meant no harm. However, it's getting late,"

Dream reaches his hand back over, giving George's a light squeeze before moving to stand up. "You should rest, your highness."

"I suppose you're right."

Dream walks away, heading towards the door leading to his room. "Good night Dream."

Looking back over his shoulder for a moment, Dream smiles with his reply. "Good night George."