The King's Dream

Chapter 3: Beneath the Silver Sphere

Dream opened his mouth and shut it again, unable to put the rushing fragments of his mind into understandable phrases.

Instead, Dream's footsteps began to echo through the desolate forest. At the speed he was going, he would have looked like he was floating if it weren't for the rhythmic beat of damp, trampled leaves. Woodland creatures scuffled through frost-covered buds and branches while flapping wings raced away at a furious rate. George jumped slightly as a large, dead branch came crashing down behind him and began a faster trot.

"Dream. Hey! Answer me!"

His clumsy feet tripped over a root beneath the rain-soaked earth, boosting him close enough to land an outstretched hand on Dream's elevated shoulder.

George closed his fingers on the broad muscles, using the momentum to spin himself around face to face with the white mask.

"You can't keep ignoring everything I say," George ordered.

Dream rolled his eyes, "Whyever not, Prince George?"

"I don't exactly mind this whole cocky act going on, but don't forget that YOU work for ME. We aren't equals or friends, so answer me when I ask you a question."

"No, George, I have never been in love. Happy?" He avoided eye contact as if George could see his face, and quickly walked off again, leaving George standing alone. A moment later, he turned back asking,  "Are you coming?"

George let out a heavy breath, shaking his head, and began picking up the pace once more. God, this man is going to drive me crazy. The forest returned to its original silence; the birds chirped softly and rodents disappeared into the dark, green foliage. There was no breeze tonight, nothing to drown out the silence. The snapping of twigs seemed to boom and crash beneath their feet and a distant eagle's cry pierced their ears. Dream walked ahead, clearing the path for his prince, while George watched his guard's every move.

Out of nowhere, a loud bang filled the area and George screamed like a little girl. Dream whipped his head around turning to see George roped up in a net. He couldn't help but laugh at the sight of George struggling to stand up while covered in dirt and moss.

"WHAT THE HELL!" George cried, "Who put this fucki- bloody trap here?"

Dream let out a wheeze.

"I- What?" The corner of George's lips tugged faintly watching Dream laugh, but he quickly composed himself before he could give himself away. "These woods aren't even for hunting. Why is this here? Dammit, now I'm covered in all this crap and we are going to be so late." George pulled bits of mud off his shirt, "Well cut me down already, would you?"

"I don't know, should I?" Dream mocked, "You're more like a damsel in distress, aren't you? They should really change your title to Princess George, it suits you more. I haven't seen you do a single Princely thing. I have, however, seen you flouncing around and crying like a little girl."

"Oh, just get me down," George complained, blushing.

Dream sighed and moved to the rope that was keeping the trap in the air. "As you wish, my princess."

He unsheathed his sword and cut the rope in one swift motion. George, along with a heap of moss and detritus, came crashing to the forest floor. Wincing, he rose unsteadily from his place in the dirt, brushing off bits of muck from his clothing.

The sleeve of his coat had torn, revealing stains of blood oozing out a deep gash in his palm.

"Give me your hand."

George looked up to see the familiar smile looking down at him.

"You're bleeding."

He looked back down at the dark blood trailing out of his fist, opening and closing it to test its mobility. "It's nothing, just a scratch."