The Prince of Nothing || Dreamnotfound

18

George's POV

George gave an alarmed look to Dream as they entered the war room. Dream just looked him with a neutral expression, waiting for George to say something.

George walked to the large table in the middle of the room. There was a large map littered with pins that marked important landmarks, enemy and friendly troop locations, and supply warehouses.

His eyes widened. Lists of troop numbers, supply stocks, and commanding officers were piled messily on the table. George picked one up and skimmed the names. He didn't recognize any. George tossed the paper on the table and looked at the map again.

He could see the precise location of where he was and how far north his home was. George ran his finger along the route. He looked at Dream. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Because you were gonna find out eventually."

George stiffened. Dream was yet again bringing up him joining their side. George wasn't as disgusted with the idea as much as before, but he still didn't want to betray his father.

George let out a dry laugh. "I guess it was either I either join your fight and see this eventually or see it and die if I don't join your side."

Dream frowned. George looked away and walked around the table. He scanned the walls.

There were more maps, but without pins and troop locations. His eyes landed on a pair of paintings. There was one of him and his father. George narrowed his eyes. "Why is there a painting of me and one of my father?"

"So we can show our men our targets." Dream said simply, "Although, you're no longer a target."

"What am I then?"

Dream paused before replying, "Well, currently you're a liability. We can't trust you yet, but I hope that you can become an asset to our fight."

"Just an asset, huh?"

Dream cringed. "Hopefully a friend as well."

George pursed his lips and looked back to the painting of him. "Is that what we are?"

He heard Dream walk towards him and look at the paintings with him. Dream shifted his footing and cleared his throat. George could tell he was searching for the right response. Was there a right response to his question? George didn't know.

Dream took a deep breath, "I— I don't know. We can be whatever you want us to be."

George turned back to the table, choosing not to respond. He looked at the pin locations, but he couldn't focus. His mind was distracted and tired. They hadn't gotten rest since the cave and that wasn't very comfortable.

He leaned his hands against the table and sighed. "Can we go back? I'm tired."

"Sure," Dream said quietly.

They left the war room and headed to Dream's room. Dream let George wash up first in the connected bathroom. George cleaned himself quickly and laid in bed. He didn't meet Dream's eyes as they passed each other.

George laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. He was tired, but his mind was running through a million thoughts a minute.

Dream came out of the bathroom a while later. It took him longer because of his wound. His shoulder was rewrapped in a more sloppy manner. Dream smirked at George as he walked out.

Of course he took off his shirt.

George rolled his eyes. Dream sat down beside him quietly, leaning against the bed's headboard. George sensed major waves of tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.