pretty boy || dreamnotfound

déjà vu

soft pants escape the blonde's lips as he catches his breath shortly after announcing to the group of men they could take a break. dream has been training since seven am, and so far, he's won every fight. he slumps against the wall, sliding down it as he sits on the floor. the air circulating around the room begins to feel sticky and warm, but he ignores it, taking a long sip of water. suddenly, he feels the presence of another sitting beside him, startling him in the slightest but is put to ease upon seeing his servant. like an annoying mosquito, he noted.

"why are you here?" the blonde questions, george's presence alone stirring irritation in his chest. "don't you have cleaning to do?"

the boy shrugs, and this careless action left a bitter aftertaste on the prince's tongue. "you said to start whenever. how long have you been at this?" he asks curiously, changing the topic swiftly.

"since seven." dream mutters. he picks his sword up which had been lying at his feet and brings it to his face to examine the object he had seen a million times before. he runs a gentle finger across its edge, slow enough to avoid drawing blood. "was there something you needed?"

george shakes his head, looking around the stuffy room packed with sweaty men of all ages, each holding a sword akin to dream's. "what exactly is all this?" he finds himself asking aloud after minutes of pondering.

"it's private training." he states simply, looking over at his servant. "happens every saturday."

the other nods in understanding, and continues to look around at everybody else. they all seemed as if they could beat the prince in a fight easily. some extremely well built, some had scars littering their faces, and some just held a permanent frown which would intimidate george if he were ever left alone with them.

a short moment of silence washes over the two, before dream decides to speak once again.

"saturdays prepare me for mondays." he tells george, as if he were supposed to know what those words meant.

"mondays?" he questions. should he have already been made aware of what happens on mondays?

"big fight; the whole town comes to watch."

george frowns, hesitating at his next question. "and what if you lose?"

the prince seems amused by this, a cocky smile on his face as he begins standing up to continue training. "oh, george..." he scoffs lightly, looking down at the other. he casually places the tip of the sword he's holding underneath the brunette's chin and tilts his head up to look at him. "i never lose."

george doesn't look convinced by his words, and he gulps painfully with the feeling of the cold blade against his flesh.

"if i lose, i die." the prince shrugs, dropping the sword from the other's skin. as he begins walking back to the centre of the room, he mumbles something in a low tone, drawing his words out which are directed at his servant. "don't worry yourself, pretty boy. i'm good at what i do."

the other boy scoffs, but dream ignores it as he waits for one of the other men to join him in the centre to battle. a man decides to take him up on a fight, but the blonde has him pinned to the floor with a sword at his throat almost immediately. he grins down at the man he recognises, having trained with him a number of times before. the prince stands, a proud smile on his face as he glances at the boy still sitting in the place he left him. george seems to smile back, impressed at the speed he managed to take down a man a little taller himself. though, he'd never tell him of course; this would undoubtedly increase the man's ego.

george secretly wonders what it'd be like to be in dream's place; a future king. he's aware the role would be challenging, everybody watching your every move, you'd have no room to mess up. everything you do would have an effect on the town as a whole, which is why there are such strict roles for those of royalty.