The Lost Prince || Dreamnotfound

nine

Dream's eyes fly open and he sits up, looking around wildly. He sees a griffin resting beside him and reaches for his sword before he remembers.

They decided to stop to rest last night. Lavlji peers at Dream, now awake at the sudden movement. Dream looks around, finding George sleeping with his back towards Dream. He's covered in vines and moss that seems to have wrapped around him for warmth.

Lavlji rests his head on Dream's lap, providing warmth almost instantly. Dream lets out a breath and pets the griffin, who closes his eyes and sighs blissfully. Dream's lips curve in private smile.

He feels a pair of eyes watching and looks up to find George staring at him openly. His expression is indecipherable, as if he's now aware of something. Dream's smile fades as he stiffens.

"What?" Dream says quietly, defensive.

"You— you just confuse me, that's all," George replies. He seems to be thinking about something.

"What do you mean?"

"I thought you were incapable of kindness." George is quiet for a moment, eyes dropping to watch him pet Lavlji. He meets Dream's questioning stare. "I guess I was wrong."

Dream doesn't know how he feels about that statement. Looking away, Dream responds, "I was wrong too." He cringes. "I shouldn't have called you a demon."

When Dream looks up, George's lips are twisted in a frown. "It's what you've always been taught. It must've been hard; growing up only feeling hate for something you don't understand."

Dream's shoulders are tense. His hand is still on Lavlji's head, causing the griffin to open his eyes questioningly. Dream decides to change the topic, asking, "What happened to your mother?"

George's expression changes instantly, eyes cold. "That isn't a story you want to hear."

"I won't tell anyone," Dream replies, his gut twisting. Based on the look George wears, he isn't sure if he wants to hear the story.

"I'm surprised your parents haven't told you," George spits hatefully. "I would've thought this story would've been something they reveled in."

Dream is quiet. Part of him yells to defend his family, to defend his home, but he can't. George looks away, eyes distant.

"Eleven years ago," George whispers, suddenly quiet, "my mother was stolen from my parents' bed in the middle of the night. She was gone for months before we heard any news." George pauses, swallowing. "My father received a box six months after her kidnapping. Inside... inside was her ring finger, her wedding ring still attached."

Dream pales. He has to strain to hear George. "On the first of every month we'd receive a part of her, an ear, hair, even the skin that had the tattoo she wore on her back. My father was distraught, sending some of our strongest allies to get her back, but your family slaughtered them all." George's words shake. "On the year anniversary, I found her strung up, hanging from a noose on a branch of the tree at the center of my home for anyone to see."

Dream feels tears prick at his eyes, his hands shake as he struggles to imagine. His throat closes. "You found her?"

George doesn't look at him, pulling his knees to his chest. "I was fourteen, going to my lessons when..." George looks at Dream. Dream flinches under his attention, guilt and shame eating him alive.

"I'm sorry," Dream whispers.

"My father was killed in battle four years later," George continues, "along with the only person who had the power to coronate me, so I remain a prince."

Dream wants to reach to George, to comfort him, but he doesn't know how. A soft rumble reverberates against Dream's leg, originating from Lavlji's throat, a sound of concern.