Once Upon a Dream (Golden Guard x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Wake-Up Calls and Prior Night Pitfalls

Nobody is really sure why we dream. Some hypothesize that it is so we can solve problems in the waking world while we sleep. Others suggest that dreaming is a pivotal part of our mental, emotional, and physical health. One of the most believed theories though is that dreams hold secret messages, ones we could subconsciously repress while awake. This theory is the reason so many people say that dreams have meanings. Something chased you in your dream? You're running away from your problems in real life. You were falling? Maybe you should rethink your life choices. Frogs??? YoU'rE pReGnAnT??? No matter what most people would interpret from it, you just couldn't seem to put your finger on the figure from your dreams.

         At least once a month (usually more) since you were very small, the same person would appear in your dreams. You'd fall asleep, begin to dream, and then he would show up. Who was he? You weren't sure, and as far as you were concerned, you'd never find out. Because everytime you got close to him, he'd simply run. In a very strange way, the two of you had almost grown up together. You had gone from tiny tots to teens with each other. And in all the years you had spent with him, not once had you seen his face. Never. Tonight's dream was no exception.

    This rendition took place in the woods. The forest surrounding you was hauntingly familiar, but never could you recall being there before. The memory of it scratched in the back of your mind like it was trying to claw out of your head. Pines stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see. They stood there, dark and foreboding against the gray clouds. The trees taunted you as they loomed above. They knew where they were. They could see every wrong turn you made. The blizzard didn't make navigation easier. With every glance you'd cast over your shoulder, your footprints would be gone, poured over by the white powder. You're only sense of direction was him.

    He was always several feet ahead of you, despite your legs being longer than his. His stature was slightly shorter than your own (congrats bestie, you're tall now because), possibly because he appeared to be tiredly slumped over. He only wore white. White billowy shirt, white dress pants, even a pair of white heeled boots! His hair was a similar shade, an ashy blond, combed back out of his face and away from his torn, pointy, pale pink ears. The only part of his ill-fitted ensemble that wasn't exceedingly pale was a flashy gold mask clasped onto his face. It almost resembled a familiar, yet slightly annoying, owl that you knew.

    Everytime you slowed, he'd turn around and glare at you. It was almost like he was mocking you. You can't catch me? But I'm right here! Just take a few more steps! I dare you... He'd never said a word, but that's always what it felt like. When you did, you'd get so close, so damn close you could feel the heat radiating off him. You'd reach toward his face, and then in the blink of an eye he'd be several feet ahead again. It was a twisted, hellish game you had played nearly every night this month.

    This was the fifth time he'd stopped. He was waiting for you again. Waiting for you to get close so he could speed ahead and leave you behind. Casting a hateful gaze over him, you watched his shiver deepen. You almost felt sorry for him. He seemed so small under your angry glare. But he's the reason you're in this mess, he deserved it. Right?

    "You aren't... you're not gonna run away this time." You hissed through gritted teeth. Your words came out in white puffs. He didn't respond. With one foot in front of the other, you began the trudge toward him again. One step... then another... again... again! He stood still, his only movement being his small frame quivering from the frigid conditions. Another step brought you closer to him. Closer than before. Closer than ever. You could see puffs of air floating out of his mask's eye slit. You could feel his body heat radiating out of him. He didn't dare move his legs at all. He just stood there, hugging himself pitifully. He was cold and exhausted, just like you.