The Lost Prince || Dreamnotfound

five

Dream wakes the next morning with a shout. He looks around anxiously, realizing quickly that he was having a nightmare and his shoulders relax.

Punz enters immediately after hearing Dream's shout, eyes concerned. "Are you alright, Prince?"

Dream nods, waving the guard away. "Just a nightmare."

Punz's eyes darken. A smirk plays on his lips. "He's being punished adequately."

Dream's head snaps up. "What?"

"The punishment for harming the Prince is death, but since you want him alive and in somewhat good condition, he's receiving ten lashes as we speak." Punz looks confused at the expression that overcomes Dream's face.

Dream rushes out of his tent, making his way to the post quickly. He freezes at the sight. George is chained to the wooden post that's reserved for floggings. His back is torn open with lashes— clearly more than the ten he's supposed to get. He's on his knees, shaking, wincing at the jeers he receives from the crowd of angry soldiers gathered.

The soldier with the whip laughs mockingly. Dream had almost forgotten what war makes people into. The soldiers are too caught up in the event to even notice Dream.

"Enough!" Dream yells, his voice booming. It echoes over the crowd, silencing the men. His throat feels weak and sore after being strangled, but Dream fights the pain.

They all bow in Dream's presence. The silence seems to roar in Dream's head, accompanying the anger that rages in his mind.

"Ten lashes," Dream shouts, staring into his men's eyes as he walks around them. He can't go straight to George, he doesn't want to be seen as a sympathizer. He isn't one. "Can you not count?!" Dream's chest shakes with fury.

He walks up to the soldier with the whip, glaring him in the eyes. "Look at him," Dream seethes, pointing a finger at George. The soldier obliges, but Dream can see no guilt. "Has he not had enough?"

The soldier looks back at Dream, eyes hard with resolve. "There's never enough suffering for his kind."

Dream's lips thin as he nods. "Yet you directly disobeyed your general's order? Who ordered this?"

"General Quackity, Prince," the man replies. His voice quavers slightly, allowing Dream a speck of pride. His men should fear him.

"I will talk to him about this," Dream says harshly, "and your insubordination will not go unpunished." Dream looks around at the crowd. He glances at George, wincing. "Get him a medic," he orders before storming off.

He heads straight for the generals' tent. He stomps in, immediately in Quackity's space. The general doesn't even have time to bow, stuck frozen under Dream's glare.

"Prince Dream," Quackity greets meekly, voice squeaking, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You gave the order to punish George, did you not?"

"I did." Quackity swallows. His eyes turn cold as he says, "He attempted to kill you. This is just punishment."

"I decide how the prisoner gets punished. Me, the Prince, your superior," Dream hisses. "Do you understand?"

Quackity nods. "It won't happen again."

Dream's eyes narrow. "Good. Now see to it that those accountable for disobeying you get proper punishment." Dream lets the words settle in before walking away. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder. "And, Quackity, you come to me for orders next time."

~

Dream's fists shake as he paces in his tent. He doesn't know what overcame him. Sure, George does deserve punishment for his actions, he nearly killed Dream. Yet, as soon as Dream saw him nearly dead on the whipping post, something in him snapped.