LOSING GAME ➳ dreamwastaken

𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

White noise rang in Reverie's ears, reverberating through her brain and rattling her skull. As she peeled open her eyes, sunlight blinded her and a splitting pain rippled through her head. For a few moments, her mind was blank. She couldn't seem to remember anything but her own name. Two men stood before her—one donning a handsome blue revolutionary uniform, and the other a glowing suit of armour that you had to squint to view without hurting your eyes.

Reverie found that she was slumped at the trunk of a tree by the bank of a lake and harsh pressure was being applied to her shoulders. When she tried to stand, an unknown force opposed her movement and kept her firmly rooted to the dewy grass beneath her. It took her a few moments to realise that the weight being applied to her shoulders was the firm grip of hands.

Everything came flooding back to her in a wave of chaos and panic. The War had begun, Eret had betrayed L'Manberg and Dream had won.

The two men standing before her were Wilbur and Dream. Reverie could now recognise them clearly. Tommy stood off to the side, fondling with the loose threads hanging from his torn shirt. Craning her neck and looking up, Reverie discovered that the person holding her down was Sapnap and she could not seem to find the strength within herself to resist him. She sat there, breathing heavily as her heart hammered in her chest. Pain pulsed in the back of her head where the rock had struck her.

As her sense of hearing trickled back to her, Reverie realised that Dream and Wilbur were engaged in negotiations and she strained her ears to listen.

"I'd say we fought well, yes?" Wilbur was saying. He sounded far away—muffled—almost as though he were underwater.

When Dream spoke, he too sounded the same. "Uh—you could say that—"

"Dream, don't say that," Tommy warned harshly. "We fought incredibly, alright? You egotistical green—"

"You fought incredibly well, we just fought a little bit better."

The moment these words rolled of Dream's tongue and reached the ears of his peers, Wilbur whipped his head around to look at Tommy. Wilbur's eyes blazed with a fire of warning, but Tommy just could not seem to control his anger. With a roar of fury, he lunged forwards, bellowing angrily.

"DREAM, YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU—"

Tommy continued to yell, spewing incoherent slights as Wilbur attempted to hold him back, repeatedly pleading, "Tommy, Tommy, Tommy!"

It was very difficult for Reverie to interpret what Tommy was saying, what with his incomprehensible shouting and her fogged sense of hearing, but she could just about make out the fact that he was challenging Dream to a duel. Dream dug the tip of his sword into the ground and leaned forward, resting on the hilt in a casual way that only aggravated Tommy further.

"YOU SELF-OBSESSED GREEN BAS—"

"Tommy, your passion will get you nowhere!" Wilbur yelled.

Silence fell, interrupted only by Dream's amused chuckles. Tommy balled his hands into fists, his jaw slacked, and glared furiously at Dream.

"We may have had our agreements, Dream, but I promise you this man does not speak for me," Wilbur said apologetically.

"No, no, please, let him speak," Dream said coyly.

"A one-versus-one bow duel," Tommy proposed.

Reverie tried to speak, but the only sound that escaped her was a grunt of pain. Somehow, her groan was heard by the others and Dream, Wilbur and Tommy all turned to face her.

"Tommy," she forced out. There was so little air in her lungs that her voice escaped in a strained and coarse whisper. "Don't do it."

"For L'Manberg," Tommy countered.