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"Accept the things to which fate binds you."

-

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—•—

[blood, violence, implied torture, death]

—•—

The emperors limp body lay haphazardly across the bed, light blue toga splattered in red, like ink spills along a blank canvas.

The umbraculum and basket of market goods had been thrown roughly into the corner, splintering the baskets handle and shredding the umbraculums fabric.

Drops of blood led from the bed to Dream's feet, and all the gladiator could do in that moment was stare in shock.

Soon enough, with his brain fogged with irregular sensations, Dream felt his body move on its own, hurrying towards the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and scooped George into his arms, cradling him to his chest for a moment. Dream rested his head against George's clothed shoulder, eyes screwed shut as he felt the damp warmth of blood beneath his hand, having saturated the fabric of the emperors robe.

"Dream?"

It was Zephyr, having composed herself and appeared in the doorway. Quackity also stood nearby, surveying the scene from a few steps behind the girl.

"Dream," Zephyr repeated, sterner this time. "Look at me."

Dream convinced his conscience to look up, eyes pricking with tears behind his mask. Zephyr sighed sorrowfully and approached with a hand out to touch the emperors back. However, Dream jerked away, pressing the emperor even tighter into his arms.

"Dream, you need to let me have a look at him. I need to see if I can help him, okay?"

"This is all my fault." Dream whispered as he loosened his grip on the emperor.

"This is not your fault," Zephyr said as she examined George's bruised form. "Don't you even say that."

"This is all my fault," Dream whispered again, reaching around to take George's hand in his. "If only I had just stayed with him, I—"

Zephyr looked up at him. "Dream—?"

"I— this— this is all my fault. This is all my fucking fault—"

"Dream—!"

"No, no, no, this can't be happening. Just as I was about to—"

Despite having ignored all of Zephyr's pleas, Dream abruptly stopped. As he was gripping the emperors hand, silent tears streaming behind his mask, he felt the slightest flutter of muscle movement.

He whipped his head down, looking at George's face; ivory skin blemished with a violent smear of gore. Dream then looked down at his hand, enclosed around the emperors. And then, so slight that he thought he was imagining it, George's hand twitched...

And his paling fingers squeezed softly onto Dream's calloused ones.

Just once.

A soft, delicate squeeze to let the gladiator know that he was okay.

That everything was going to be okay.

At this, Dream's tears stopped, replaced by a flood of anger and anguish.

He was going to make those motherfuckers pay.

—•—

Outside, Dream burst onto the street, seeing red. The sky above was setting, ridding the heavens of cloud and saw the colours of day melt away into night.

Having seen Zephyr quite literally ride off into the sunset, a barely-living George thrown into her lap, Dream turned to the perpetrators. He would meet back up with the gang at Kristin's apothecary later, but for now, it was the perfect time for revenge.

Wilbur had followed off behind Zephyr and Quackity, leaving Dream to... violently confront the guard in front of the inn.

After throwing the dead guard into the river, he moved towards the boat. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo had also gone by this stage, leaving the two guards back to their posts.

They both looked up as Dream walked nearer; covered in the blood of his enemies, seething, gripping his sharpened sword with malicious intent.

One of the guards went to draw his sword. "What the f—?"

Dream slashed, cutting the guard down, before twirling like the experienced fighter he was, striking the other guard down with the tip of his sword.

He kicked both bodies into the river, watching them disappear beneath the murky water, before hopping onto the boat which was moored nearby.

Checking to make sure it was completely empty of life, Dream held his sword above his head, bringing it down with brute force to strike a hole through the boats hull. He immediately retreated to dry land, where he grinned with unabashed satisfaction as the boat groaned. It quickly filled with water and, as the sun sank below the hills, the boat sank below the rivers surface.

Graced with the presence of a new moon, Dream turned his back on the river, walking up the bank and back along the cobbled path, where he retrieved his horse and sprung into the saddle, buzzing with adrenaline.

His fists were coated in fresh blood, the sword in its scabbard slicked red. Fisting the reins, Dream took off into the night, the cool air rustling the material of his tunic, coursing under the fabric and along his skin.

The stars led the way for the gladiator, who suddenly became cold. He shivered as he weaved his horse between the buildings, galloping further and further through the streets of Rome.

His mind was racing.

What the actual fuck did he just do.

—•—

At Kristin's apothecary, Emperor George's body lay flaccidly across a clean stone bench. Kristin herself, having been called in urgently, tended to the emperor with great fuss, busying herself with cleaning up his weeping wounds.

Zephyr also helped, bustling around the small, cluttered shop mixing remedies in a small mortar. The mixture was basically clear, dotted with specks of green and air bubbles. She applied this with a soft touch, smearing it over the emperors more shallow wounds.

Queasy, the three younger boys remained outside as Wilbur watched from the corner, seated atop an overturned crate with his head in his hands. Quackity leaned against the far wall, spinning a sprig of lavender between his fingers as he watched Zephyr work.

Dream stood in the other corner, cradling his bloodied hands. The room made him feel slightly nauseous; dried, sweet smelling plants hung from the ceiling in bunches, and sacks of colourful powder stacked the room, drenching the confined space in a blend of aromas.

Dream heaved in his breaths as he watched both Zephyr and Kristin work. He was yet to speak a word, even when another young woman came in, the same one from his pre-bodyguard bathing, and he watched Kristin kick her out.

The gladiators hair was a mess atop his head, having come loose from its place behind the masks strap. Some of it lay over the top of his mask, brushing against the white surface. It was a mess, to say the least, so he ran a hand through it, pushing it away from his mask, but one strand broke free, flopping back over the front again.

For what seemed like an eternity, Kristin and Zephyr fussed over the emperor, tending to the cuts and bruises. Now bare of his toga, but covered below for modestly, George's body lay in the pale moonlight that streamed through the skylight.

His midriff and back were covered in seeping cuts, from that of some kind of whip, and the edges collected pearls of blood that were frequently wiped away by Kristin. As those wounds were being covered with ointment and bandages, his bruises were blooming brighter. George's body was littered in yellowing bruises, abrasive and appearing almost caustic.

Dream's lower lip trembled ever so slightly behind his mask as Kristin and Zephyr finished their medicinal cleansing, stepping away from the stone bench and the ghostly figure of the emperor of Rome.

"We've done all we possibly can," Kristin said to Dream, walking up to him and wrapping him in her arms. "So let's get him home, okay?"

Dream nodded, feeling his own arms wind around the woman's shoulders. He buried his covered face into the crook of her neck, releasing a shuddered breath as the woman ran a soothing hand down his scarred back.

"Do you need any help getting him home?" Zephyr asked from behind Kristin as the gladiator stepped out of the hug.

He shook his head, and remained silent.

Kristin smiled kindly. "Alright. I'll take the boys home. Can you close up the shop, Zeph?"

Zephyr nodded, and she and Dream watched as Kristin rounded up all five boys, herding them out of the door and into the crisp darkness of the early night. Zephyr cleared her throat after a minute of silence, turning to Dream with her mouth set into a straight line, almost awkwardly.

Dream cocked his head to the side.

She sighed. "Are you gonna help me put his clothes back on?"

Dream spluttered, face darkening with rouge as he looked from the emperor to Zephyr. "What?"

At this, Zephyr chuckled softly, skipping over to the emperor, and carefully began wrapping him in his toga.

"For the record, I was kidding, you don't need to help me," Zephyr motioned Dream forward after George was dressed. "But I do need you to carry him for me."

Dream nodded, carefully sliding his arms beneath the emperors back and under his knees. Delicately, as if holding a porcelain doll, Dream lifted the emperor off of the table, bringing him tightly to his chest as he walked out of the apothecary, followed closely by Zephyr.

After being boosted into his horse, Dream draped the unconscious George over his lap, holding the reins in one hand, and gripping the emperor to him with the other.

"Will you be okay getting home?" Zephyr asked as she locked the door of the apothecary.

Dream nodded. "I will. Will you?"

Zephyr nodded, patting to her thigh. "Homes only a short walk away, and I'm armed, so I'll be just fine. Take care of yourselves, alright? I'll visit tomorrow to check up on him."

"See you tomorrow then, and... thank you, Zephyr." Dream murmured and Zephyr pat his leg fondly.

"That's alright, Dreamy. And please, call me Zeph. Zephyr seems so formal." With that, Zephyr smacked the horses behind, sending it off into the night.

She waved it off, watching the pair disappear around the bend, before she turned around, and set off towards her home. Her mind raced with the knowledge of the emperor and the gladiators future; a repeated but distorted series of visions that came and went like the phases of the moon.

—•—

Home in the villa, Dream had ordered a servant to put away his horse as he carried George through the front door and down the hall.

Karl had gone home not long before he got home, having received word of the emperors successful recovery mission. He then promised that he would be back at the crack of dawn.

Dream kicked open the emperors bedroom door, closing it with his heel. Lying the emperor on the bed, the gladiator shuffled hesitantly towards the closet, and retrieving the emperors sleeping garments.

George twitched from his place on the bed as Dream came back over, nervously peeling back the layers of the emperors toga, averting his eyes as he placed the unconscious man into pyjamas.

Face hot, Dream yanked the covers away and lifted George back up again, placing him back onto the bed and tucking the sheets around him. The moonlight shining through the window hovered across George's face like the sheen of a pearl, and Dream admired the mans striking facial features.

As the emperor breathed soundly, Dream reached an irresolute hand out towards George's face. He then trailed the side of his hand down George's cold cheek and along his jawbone, all with feather-light consistency. Dream moved his hand back up the emperors face, smoothing his thumb tenderly over a bruise below George's closed eye.

Sighing, Dream got to his feet, sweeping the sleeping George with one last look.

"Oh, fuck it." Dream muttered bitterly to himself, lifting his mask to sit on top of his head.

Guided by the spectral rays of the moon, Dream placed a lingering kiss to George's forehead, running a hand through his dark hair. Standing up straight, Dream slowly slipped the mask back down his face, and left the room, shutting the door.

That night, he didn't go back to his room, nor did he get much sleep.

He sat in the hallway, back against the door, eyes drilled into the ceiling as his lips tingled and his stomach shook with the unflattering presence of butterflies.

Now, he hoped that George could forgive him.

But this thought was not the reason the gladiator lost sleep.

His feelings for the emperor confused him, and all he wanted was to talk to someone. But, then again, fourteen specific words played in his head over and over and over again.

"...I don't care about him, and I never will. He is nothing to me."

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Hey homies, this is an authors note!

Early chapter cause I can't leave you guys waiting any longer lol

Well, this is a bit sad. At least he's not dead? 😬

This chapters question/statement: how are you? <3

Until next time,

Blue :)