Enders and Brines

Remember My Embrace

Summary:

The job of a General can be grieving.

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I WIll Be There from The Count of Monte Cristo

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When he accepted the position of General, Wilbur had expected many things.

To be in love with a wanted man definitely wasn't in his list.

But, then again, when he fell, Dream was only a man much like him, living his life in the great nation of L'manburg. Only a man surrounded by secrets, but filled with kindness. Only a man that was hard not to love.

And now, that man is a fugitive, accused of unspeakable crimes.

There is no way Dream did it.

Wilbur knows Dream, he knows the man wouldn't do that. Such a sickening offense wouldn't even pass through the blonde's mind, even in the most dire situations.

But the word of a General weighs little compared to the words of President Jschlatt, who energetically assures the people of L'manburg that the traitor will face the consequences of his actions when he is found. That his head shall be presented as an example of Justice. That there will be no forgiveness in their broken hearts for the traitor's offense.

What a load of bullshit.

How can no one see the malicious glint in his eyes? The sharp edges of his smirk? The calculated tone behind his passionate words?

General Wilbur feels a deep rage burning inside him, feeding off of the indignation with the actions of his peers, who immediately turn their backs to the man who has given them a land to thrive and to call home.

Traitors, all of them.

And so is he, he feels, for he still stands here, a few steps away from the President, eyes hard as steel. His wish is to tear the man apart, to yell at the people accepting his lies, to run away from the claustrophobic walls surrounding their small nation—walls that once brought him pride and safety—. To go look for the man holding his heart.

The gift he had gotten the blonde days ago burns inside his breast pocket. It's a small dagger—a rather old fashioned thing now with the enchanted swords and crossbows—with a simplistic but practical design. The hilt is made of iron and gold, with a streak of lapis lazuli—to facilitate and potentialize enchantments—and the blade is so sharp it can cut a hair string, runes of love and protection embedded on it. Dream would appreciate it, since the smallness means he could carry it at all times, and he would understand the purpose of the gift as soon as his eyes met the runes, as Dream has an almost inhuman facility in reading runes.

A confession.

A tentative step towards a hopeful future together.

A future they will now never have.

Not unless Dream is proven innocent.

And the only way to do so is to dig around the den of villains working behind the scenes, led by President Jschlatt.

So Wilbur stays.

Lets the dagger and the promises it carries burn his skin through the fabric of his clothes.

Allows his face to fall into deceitful neutrality.

Drowns his breaking heart in the memories of Dream.

Buries his feelings of betrayal and hypocrisy.

The job of a General can be grieving.