The Viscount Who Loved Me {Dreamnotfound}

An Unthinkable Fate

George stood in the hall way, waiting for Lord Puffy to arrive, his brother, Lady Rose and mother inside, talking quietly with the queen. The hot sun beating down on the scholar through the window making his skin sweaty, his breaths deep as he fans himself. The morning light lit the multi-coloured rug laid out on the hard wood floor, the stone walls lined with beautiful oil paintings and flowers in vases. Lord Puffy busts through the doors at entrance, seemingly faltering as he notices George at the other end.

Dream can't help the way his heart flutters at the sight of the man. He can't help the way his steps falter for a second before he continues on his path. A magnetic pull towards George as he passes, holding the man's eyes, having to physically stop himself from reaching for his hand.

George's heart thundered as Dream's golden eyes meet his, seemingly never leaving. "Mister Davidson," Dream greats stiffly, his voice soft as he passes through the door beside where George stands, leading to the morning room, the elder Davidson brother following close behind.

"Viscount Puffy," the queen greets as the lord walks in. "We thought perhaps you'd not be joining us,"

"Your Majesty," Lord Puffy bows deeply. "Nothing could keep me from my beautiful groom,"

George huffs, passing it off as a deep sigh, as he sits down next to his mother. His younger brother on the couch across from them where Lord Puffy takes his place beside the man. "Now, tell me of your wedding plan," the queen urges. "There is no talk of a special license, I would hope," she jests.

"Of course not, Your Majesty," Fundy assures with a polite laugh.

"I believe a modest family affair would be most fitting," Dream explains, his face stiff as his actively avoids looking at George. The queens eyes squinting at his words. "Perhaps back in the country, at Aubrey Hall,"

"In the country?" The queen scoffs, her laugh filled with disbelief. "No, that will not do. You must have it here in town," she insists. "In fact, I shall host the nuptials myself,"

"Oh," Lady Davidson gasps, her eyes wide.

"That is most generous, Ma'am," Fundy thanks, bowing his head, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"Most generous," Dream agrees. "But not at all necessary," he tells her, glancing at George for what feels like the first time in eons, the man's eyes trained on him, eye brows furrowed.

"Nonsense," the queen insists. "He is my diamond, after all. It is only right that I give you both a wedding worthy of that title," she explains as George picks up his cup of disgusting American tea, his nose scrunching up slightly at the spell of overly sweetened hot water. "Besides, one could almost credit me myself with bringing about this most illustrious match," the queen says proudly, the words going into Dream's ear and out the other. His eyes focused on the brunette scholar on the other side of the room. The Lord's gaze making George's hands shake as they hold his saucer. The memories of Aubrey Hall flooding his senses. "I shall oversee every detail,"

"Can you believe it, brother?" Fundy asks excitedly, waking George from his daze. "It is like a fairytale come true,"

George lets out a nervous chuckle, ripping his eyes from Dream's gaze. "You deserve nothing less, Fundy," he assures.

"Nothing less for a true love match," the queen agrees, a wide side on her face. George's hands fail him at the words, the cup clattering on the saucer in his hands. Everyone in the room's eyes whipping towards him.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," George apologises quickly, his face flushing read.

Quackity makes his way down the halls, the many gentlemen and scholars walking past him with different medians. Marble walls towering over him as he makes his way to his classroom. The dimly lit space illuminated by a single sky light, cascading down on a pedestal like seat in the centre of a circle of easels, many artists buzzing around their canvas' as they prepare their tools.