Emeralds For Trade // DNF Royalty AU

Chapter 11.2: The Fear That Drives Courage

"Wake up, pretty boy."

George let out a quiet groan, a quiet thumping of his head pulling him back to consciousness. The first thing he noticed was this was definitely not his bed. His cheek was pressed against hard concrete, slightly damp and uncomfortably dirty.

The second thing he noticed was that he couldn't move his arms. They were bound behind his back with what he could only assume to be rope, tight and frustratingly sturdy. He tried to sit up, but the strain caused his throbbing head to hurt more and there he was falling back on his side.

When he peeked his eyes open, it took a second for it to adjust. Wherever he was, it was dark and the silhouette of a man loomed over him behind a set of metal bars. Light from a door was seeping into the room, leaving his face nothing but a shadow. Squinting, he could make out a dark suit, but no distinguishable features. His vision was still blurry.

"Good morning," the man spoke, before it was interrupted by the screeching of the metal gate opening. The accent was most definitely not one he'd heard before.

The quiet footsteps approached the bound boy. The unknown stranger squatted by George, head tilted slightly in curiosity. George could now just barely make out the features on his face. Neat lines extended from under his eyes, down to his cheekbones in dark, precise lines. They looked like scars, jarring to the boy who had lived in the Overworld all his life. The prince had never seen the marks of a Netherian before, but there they were, albeit a bit unfocused.

"Who are you?" George croaked out, his voice scratchy and uncomfortable. His gaze met the man before him and deep red eyes bore into his own.

"Right, we've never met. My name is Alexis, but you can call me Alex. Lovely to meet you, your highness," the man spoke, keeping a monotonous tone. He carefully grabbed George's face, turning it by the jaw to examine his features. Apart from the dirt, it was clean and showed no signs of injury in the capture. "Glad to know they didn't aim for the face when they knocked you out, would've been a shame to ruin such a pretty face. I see why Dream took an interest in you."

"Alex... Blackstone?" George managed to mumble, trying to turn his head away, but the grip didn't let up. As Dream was brought up, he could more or less assume that Emerald was one of the nations he was being offered for trade. He should have known that having such close ties with Dream would come with risks.

"That's right," Alex praised, pausing to look at his features a bit more before letting go and standing back up again. "At least I know they didn't hit you too hard, then."

"Where am I?" George demanded.

Alex clicked his tongue in disapproval, nudging George so that he laid on his back. He looked down at the man once more, taking in his dishevelled appearance and smiling slightly at the visible discomfort on his face.

"So many questions. Unfortunately, as much as I'd love to stay and answer all of them, I have other matters to attend to. But I'll give you a brief rundown. You're in Netherite's castle as our bargaining chip, which is worth Emerald, Obsidian and Gold, from what we've calculated. You've been out for a good couple of hours now, and your friends are probably going to be here in a couple more."

George's vision was starting to clear up now, along with the ache in his head which he now knew was a result of being struck. He could feel it at the back of his head, now. Memories of waking up in the middle of the night to hands grabbing him and muffling his yells of protests flashed in vague snapshots in his mind, but from how abruptly his memory ended, he could assume what happened next.

The crownless prince looked up at the king before him, attempting to maintain a stoic expression despite the feeling of thick ropes and his hands at an awkward position digging into his lower back.