lavenders blue

c h a p t e r : f i v e

tw: funeral, physical abuse mention, death mention, injury and blood mention, domestic/child abuse mention, lime?, mature language

"At my funeral, you should celebrate the life I lived," the queen whispered, "it's ok to be sad, but do not sorrow in my death for to long," she stroked through Georges hair as he rested in her lap.
"You're not going anytime soon though right?" The boy looked up, fiddling with a small toy elephant that was almost the same size as his tiny hands, the queen shook her head. 
"Of course not," George felt a soft kiss against his forehead.
"You promise?" He whispered, his hands wrapping around her wrist and she simply laughed in response, shaking her head slightly for the second time.
"George, you know I can't promise anything," she whispered the last few words, sitting the small boy up on her lap, "but I will try my very very hardest for you." She booped his nose earning a small laugh and two eager arms wrapping around her neck. 
"You have to promise me, you won't leave me," he muffled into her shoulder.
"Ok," she kissed his head once more, "I promise." 

George's shoulders were shaking uncontrollably as tears flew down his face, some falling into the cut on his cheek which luckily people were not asking about. One person of course, couldn't help but notice Georges wrecked state, his eyes unable to tear themselves off the cut that George kept dabbing with a blood stained cloth. Lord Verdant and Drisila were on the opposite side of the garden, watching the memorial with the attending wait staff, considering they were seen as family to the royals. George knew he was there but he couldn't look up, in fear of what he may say or try to do. When the rain started George tried his best not to cry and harder, hoping the natural droplets would disguise his tears. His father kept hissing at him, telling him to man up and set an example but George just ignored him. The funeral was quick and concluded with the King clapping his hands and practically marching the wait staff back inside.
"George, inside please." He bellowed but to his avail the prince just shook his head,
"Please just let me stay out here,"
"Insid-"
"Just for a few minutes." The king huffed but eventually agreed, stomping off as if his late wife was now just an old broken crown. 

As soon as everyone was gone that was when George broke. He dropped to his knees, staining his pants with the damp earth. 
In Loving Memory loomed before him on the stone, the rest was left blank at the king's request so George traced the empty plaque where her name should have resided, his finger grazing over the smooth bronze. 
"You promised me..." he wept, dropping his head as the rain fell down his neck, "you promised!" The sky above the stone was riddled gray with death and dolour as George placed the elephant under a small mound of earth, covering it with one of the blue tulips he bought with him. George felt like he was going to choke, all his memories were flashing through his mind like blades, cutting him with every image of his mother. 
"Come back!" he screamed, his head resting on the ragged stone, surely leaving a mark but he couldn't care less. It wasn't like his face wasn't flawed already from his father, "come back please, I n-need you..." he wailed, pressing his hand to the mound of dirt, only just able to feel the quartz elephant as he pushed it further into the ground. 
"George..." a tanned hand pulled his shaking one out from the dirt, quickly wiping the now muddy substance off his palm. George flinched away, not wanting to get caught but Dream wasn't having it.

"Would you like me to hold you?" He asked, resting Georges hand back on his leg to not get it dirty again.
"What are you my mother?" George sniffled, wincing at his own joke given their context. 
"No I am your friend."
"Friends don't hold friends, we aren't village gossips." George quickly wiped his tears about to stand up and leave when Dream repeated his question.
"My prince, would you like me to hold you?" 
"Yes." he sobbed, letting himself be pulled into a warm embrace which he gratefully returned.

"Dream she promised me! She said she wouldn't g-go..." A thick cloak was draped around his shoulders, protecting him from the incoming storm as he soaked Dream's dark shirt.
"It's ok," he whispered, slowly rocking George back and forth, "it's ok to be sad...let it out," 
That's all George wanted to hear, someone finally validating his feelings, mirroring his mothers sweet words. The prince just cried harder, pushing the side of his face into Dreams chest, trying to find comfort in his heart beat as two hands wandered up and down his back in the soothing patterns. Dream was concerned about the now opened wound on Georges cheek, but in fear of what the answer would be he just let George cry, noting to himself that he would talk to him about it later. Georges rapid facial movements had opened up the cut, blood once again mixing with rain and tears as it seeped into Georges perfectly pale skin. "May I?" Dream whispered, holding a clean handkerchief up, signalling he wanted to help. In truth he wanted to clean all of Georges pain away, wipe it off as if it were a meer stain. Dream knew how it felt to be treated like an animal, or even just a trophy, but he would rather feel that pain ten times over then have George experience it even for a second.