bitter water // dreamnotfound

eight

repetitive days lead to repetitive thoughts.

George had been pushing himself to eat smaller amounts of food every day so that he could last the week without starving. It was annoying, and the temptation to eat more than he rationed himself was irritating, but so far he was successful. Every passing minute was spent wishing he could let down his guard and accept help from Fundy. He wanted to oh so badly, but he didn’t want to seem hopeless or in need of aid. It wasn’t apparent to him that it was actually quite obvious.

He had work today. Since the incident occurred, he was unwilling to go, but the lack of currency in his pocket said otherwise. The trek wasn’t remarkably long, it just passed through the town market, which was something he didn’t love. George only ever needed food and water, both of which he could get at Fundy’s store. He never willingly entered the marketplace on his own time. It was filled to the brim with beggars, desperate shop owners looking to sell you something, bothersome children, elements of the sort. George was definitely more of a reserved and modest person, he was very introverted and would much prefer to take a relaxed, scenic route. Sadly, however, there was no such scenic route to the blacksmith unless you wanted to swim through the rushing river.

The only redeeming quality of the marketplace was the music. Sure, the musicians only played for tips to keep them afloat, but it was music nonetheless. George had always wanted to learn how to play an instrument, but his family was never able to afford any, nevermind lessons for the instrument. Now that he was an adult, he could of course save for one himself, but with his career, he didn’t have much free time. Having a physical-based job was exhausting, he spent most of his free time snoring. So instead of playing one himself, he took great pleasure in listening to others play.

I feel it in my soul
I feel the empty hole

He adored this song.

The cup that can't be filled
I feel it in my blood

It was his mother’s favorite.

In the fire and the flood
The beast that can't be killed

She would sing to him at night. He hummed along to the next verse.

Even now you mark my steps
Lovely bitter water

He truly missed her.

Oh, the days of our delights are poison in my veins
I know I shouldn't love you
I know

George, for the first time, lingered in the market for longer than what was required.

---

“Clay, my dear, you’re really excelling in your reading abilities!” the queen spoke, circling around her son. It almost felt like a fantasy. She had worried for so long about him, questioning what he was going to do after Alastair took over the throne. She didn’t want him to waste all of his days in the castle, sulking around and causing anarchy.

The prince closed his book with one hand, forcing a slight smile. “Yeah, I’m aware. Why are you constantly on me about it? So what, I’m reading. The entire family can.”

Niki swiped a look at the cover of the book. “I’m just delighted, Clay. You’ve read half the library in two weeks, that’s not something I’d ever expect from you. Something certainly has your interest if you won’t put down the books, even at mealtime.”

He found it silly that she thought he was studying a career. She was so blissfully ignorant; she didn’t know of his plans. His ideas were much different than a career, though they did have a slight correlation.

“I guess you could say that.”

Niki weakly laughed. She knew she was bothering him with her presence. “I’ll be on my way, I’ll leave you to your study. Just please don’t be late for supper again tonight, alright?”

Clay nodded, returning to his text.

“I love you, son.”

He didn’t respond.

---

Tommy, Toby, and Karl stood in front of the stables, the two younger in complete wonder. The corrals were nothing like they envisioned, most likely because the only stables they had ever actually witnessed were the measly wooden ones in the markets and on farmer properties that looked like they would come crashing to the ground at any moment. Hay scattered everywhere, water buckets knocked over, gates carelessly tossed open. The animals always looked malnourished and weak. These stables were made of high quality, polished oak. Bundles of hay and carrots were fastened neatly in the stalls, the water troughs were clean and pleasing, and the horses seemed astonishing. They were actually really intimidating to the teenagers. Flawlessly smoothed manes, healthy physiques, strong legs, and of course, the kingdom’s signature horse armor.

Toby was in awe. “They’re so pretty!”

Tommy, on the other hand, directly went to break into a stall instead of admiring them. Karl promptly chased after him, prying his hands off the bars. “Hey, Tommy, chill it. You can’t just open any random gate and hop on a horse, there are things you have to do first. There aren’t even any saddles on any of the stalled horses-”

“I don’t care, I’ll make do!”

Karl was about to attempt to intervene again, but Tubbo stepped in and stood alongside him as Tommy flung open a gate. “It’s best to let him learn by himself. He doesn’t listen to anybody, only himself.”

“He’s gonna get us all in trouble.”

“Yeah, well you probably should have expected that when you allowed two village boys into the castle grounds without much thought.”

“You’re probably right. Eh, at least it’s something to alter my day to day schedule.”

At that moment, Tommy was mercilessly dragged out of the stall, his arms around the horse’s neck. “OH MY LORD, TUBBO HELP ME-” he shrieked, holding on for dear life while the stallion bucked his hind legs and began to gallop throughout the clearing. “I MIGHT ACTUALLY FUCKING DIE-”

Toby burst out uncontrollably giggling while Karl stood with his head in his hands. There was absolutely no way he was getting out of this situation nicely.