I can't love you // DreamNotFound

Chapter 17

George groaned, his head didn't throb surprisingly, but he felt unusually groggy and sluggish. He sat up, the room spinning. Nothing hurt, his body was just a bit sore, but his head should hurt. He was just knocked out.

He was dressed in clean clothes and the blood was washed out of his hair and off his body. The injuries he had were now scabbed over and healing. The room he was laying in looked terribly familiar, and with a sinking feeling he knew where he was. He couldn't be here.

George stood up quickly, too quickly as the room darkened and he couldn't see for a few seconds, and stumbled to the door. He leaned against the wall as he opened the door, and when he saw the hallway he couldn't hold back the tears. He was back in the Elf palace.

Not the Ranger's castle and not with Dream.

Dream.

He held the wall for support as he hurried as fast as he could down the hallway, scouring his memory for the way to his parent's study. It had been so long, he had almost forgotten his way around his own home, confusing the Ranger's hallways with his own.

Ten minutes later, he found the door to the study and he hurriedly pushed it open. His father looked up, reading glasses slipping slightly down his nose from the way he had been writing. "You're up." He said simply, stating the obvious.

George ignored his comment, instead walking over as steadily as he could to stand at the edge of Wilbur's desk. He didn't want to show how shooken up he was. "Why am I here and where's Dream?" He said, gripping the edge of the desk tightly to steady himself as another dizzy spell came over him.

Wilbur hummed, turning to look back at his paper, "Dream is at the Ranger's castle where he belongs and you are here for the same reason." He said nonchalantly, chewing on the end of his pencil absentmindedly.

George sat down in the chair across from Wilbur's, standing up had become too much for him. "Why." He said, tears returning to taunt him, "Why, would you do that? I said I loved him!" He cried, anger filling his vision. He waited for himself to fall into a trance again like before, but nothing happened. That's weird.

He reached out at a book on a bookshelf from the right side of the room, but the book didn't budge. "What did you do to me?" He said, his voice chillingly steady.

Wilbur looked back up before nodding in acknowledgement at George's predicament. "Drugged you. So you can't use your powers to leave us. It's for your own good." He said, watching George's face for his reaction to his words.

George closed his eyes as he took in the information, his parents, his loving parents, drugged him! And prevented him from being with his lover. Who does that?

He stood up, careful not to do it too quickly, and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Wilbur asked from behind him, George could hear the warning in his voice.

George inhaled shakily, "To my bedroom. I'm tired."

Wilbur raised an eyebrow suspiciously at him, not that George could see it, but he let him go anyway. The castle was under orders not to let George leave, and it's not like he could get far in the state he was in.

George sighed and walked out of the room, again leaning against the wall as he made his way back to his room, but he didn't go inside. Instead he kept going past it, on and on until he reached the armory.

He took a sharp dagger from the wall where it hung with it's twins, and breathed deeply, holding it to his chest.

Turning, he walked out of the room, concealing the dagger in the folds of his clothes. Again he passed his room. A servant walked by him, head low. George put his free hand out and touched the servant's shoulder.

The girl looked up fearfully at him, "Yes? Your highness?"

George smiled reassuringly down at her, "Tell King Wilbur and Queen Lea to meet me in the throne room in five minutes." He ordered, sending the servant off with a light tap. Now he just had to make it to the throne room before them.

—

When George had reached the throne room and had taken a seat in his father's chair, he allowed himself to relax. Soon he would see Dream, they would have to allow him.

The far doors opened and Wilbur and Lea walked in, confusion plain on their faces. Wilbur's turning to anger as he saw George on his chair, a special privilege given only to the king. "What do you-" he started, but George interrupted him, by standing up.

"Listen." He said, pulling the dagger out from its hiding spot. Lea gasped, grabbing Wilbur's arm. "You can't kill us, we're your parents George. You're parents."

George shook his head, "I'm not going to kill you, why would I ever do that? Yes I'm angry at you, but I could never. No, I'm not going to kill you, in fact, I'm going to kill myself." He turned the dagger point at his chest and held it there, smiling sadly up at his parents.

Wilbur took a step forward, "George." He warned, but George held out a hand to stop him, "Take another step, and you will no longer have a son."

Lea held a hand to her mouth, tears forming in her eyes. "Why George?"

George looked at her in anger, "Because you took me away from the person I want to be with the most right now. The person I love. And if you don't take me to him right now, I will kill myself. Because I would rather die than live like this. Never seeing my other half, and being drugged my entire life."

Wilbur shook his head, "George, he's dangerous. And you are too, to yourself and others. We're only doing what's best for you."

George yelled out in frustration, "I'm only doing what's best for you, this is for your own good." He mocked, "I don't care. Either you take me to him, or I die. Choose." He spat.

Never had he ever thought he would be here, on the brink of killing himself and his parents against him. Him in love with a Ranger of all people.

Wilbur looked at Lea and she nodded quickly, "Fine." He sighed. He called for a guard, keeping eye contact with George the entire time. George stared back, holding the knife steady.

What is he doing?

An elf entered the room and bowed to Wilbur, Wilbur whispered something in his ear and the guard nodded and rushed off. George narrowed his eyes at them, but if they tried to trick him, he would just stab himself and they would lose. They couldn't do anything but listen to his demands. Right?

Minutes passed, and nobody moved. George shook his head every now and then slightly to clear his foggy vision from the drug.

Finally, the doors opened again and George looked up, the dagger slipping from his fingers and clattering loudly to the floor, forgotten.

How?

—You thought it was almost over a chapter ago, didn't you.—

Why sad? Happy. -G