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Dream watched the palace from the roof of one of the guard houses. The stars glittering overhead and catching on the gray of the stones. Polished, as it always was. Paler as it reached for the sky. When it rained, he thought it was prettiest. Always a shining gleam and glittering above them all.
There was a part of him that missed the peace of this.
His mask settled easy on his face and kept him warm despite the huff of the world around him. It was cold. He was cold. The blood that soaked his side wasn’t helping in the matter.
His ship had docked for the sake of getting supplies. His crew splitting up happy and laughing with each other. They had their plan to meet in the town square to count everything they had gotten. Even placing bets with each other on what they were going to get and how much they could smooth over with the limited gold they had. They were tracking something that would get them treasure and rewards.
His crew had teased him the moment they made land.
“Our dear Captain isn’t going to get anything.”
“Hey now—”
“You always disappear when we’re near the palace. Hiding and laying low too much to get the good stuff.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Would you rather I go and get myself caught?”
“Never, don’t even joke about that.”
“Alright, so then don’t make fun of me not getting you the cool stuff.”
The crew of the Manhunt and their Captain. The most hunted by the royal crown. They were hunted nearly constantly. Each time they came to land they were on the run from royal guards and soldiers. The orders of the crown to hunt the Captain and crew of the Manhunt and kill them. After some too close of calls the orders for Dream himself were capture and to be brought to the palace.
Most guards didn’t care for that change.
He never pointed out what he was doing to his crew. No matter how close he was with all of them or how much he was in love with one of them, he kept his secrets. George never pushed him. Even when the two of them were laying together to sleep and his lover laid his head on his chest to listen to his heart. Dream kept his secrets still and George knew they were there. They never forced one another to speak about the things they didn’t want to. It was an open option and it was safe if they ever decided they wanted to get something off their mind but it was never required for them. They trusted each other.
If it was something that was truly important it would come when they were ready.
Dream was breaking George’s trust each time he disappeared.
He wasn’t laying low and hiding away from the palace. He was being a fool and he was being reckless. Anger burning and boiling in his heart and still he could never make himself let go. Not yet. Not like this.
Dream moved before he could give himself any time to doubt his actions. Making his way through well practiced patterns until he was scaling his way onto a balcony on the side of the palace. Where the stones were turning pale and the ivy grew sparse. There was till some planted in the boxes beyond the windows framing the doors but they only served to help him. He wondered, idly, if that was the reason they were put here to begin with.
Dream listened to the silence of the room. One minute, two. There were small flickers of lights from inside so he could take his guess that the one inside wasn’t asleep. Still, he opened the door softly. Aware all too much how it would squeak if it was opened quickly. He had practiced this enough times to be silent each and every time.
The room was empty when he stepped inside.
The cold that settled in his bones washing back at the feel of the fire roaring gently in the stone place at the end of the anti chamber. A quick check of the bed confirmed that it was indeed empty. The candles and papers littered on the desk told him the one he was looking for had stepped out only for a moment.
Closing the door behind him and making his way over to the desk, Dream sat heavy in the chair. Relishing it for a moment for how comfortable the thing was. Tall and consuming in the plush of the cushion. The leather cloth that furnished it would be easy enough to clean. He shifted himself until he was comfortable and brought his muddied boots up onto the edge of the desk. It helped him keep pressure on his wound without having to make himself obvious about it. It was comfortable. It was easing the aches and the soreness of his feet after his day being spent running from people who cared little for the royal order to leave him alive.
He very nearly nodded off in the chair before the door opened. Soft creaking as it opened and shut again and Dream watched the man not even watch his surroundings as he stepped in deeper while reading whatever scroll was in his hand.
“What a way to greet a guest.”
He jumped badly enough his scroll hit the ground. A scream ready on his lips before he looked at him. Dream raised an eyebrow above his mask.
“The King is afraid of a meager Pirate. How the papers will cry out.”
King Eret stared at him from across the desk. Hands lax at his sides but a scowl now showing easy on his face.
“What are you doing here? If any of my guards spot you, they will kill you.”
“Yes, I thought you fixed that.”
“They don’t listen.”
“I’ve noticed.”
The words held tense between them. Eret forcing himself to take a breath and a step away.
“Is there something you wanted, Dream?”
Publicly he had no name. He was some unknown beast with an axe attached to the end of a chain that he called Nightmare. The smile worn mask on his face was a thing of Nightmares. Yet here the King stood, calling him by name.
“Can a man not see his brother?”
Neither of them spoke or moved. The word was an accusation and threat in one. Eret was the one who broke first. He was always the one that broke first.
“You are being hunted, Dream. You know how dangerous it is to be here. We agreed you wouldn't anymore.”
“I didn’t have time to send a missive and wait.”
That caught his brother’s attention.
“What do you mean?”
He was careful not to move on the chair.
“Your guards in the city are getting reckless and questioning your judgment. They believe all pirates should be dead and that you are hiding something.”
Eret stared at him.
“You are what I’m hiding. They’re right. I’m not being as harsh as I should be considering your crimes.”
Dream rolled his eyes.
“My crimes that are bringing down the reason we were separated and our sister was murdered.”
“Dream—”
“They stole me from my bed, if you don’t remember. I was dead, they planted remains of another child in my bed and made me watch as they set it on fire. They stole me screaming from my room and by the time I found my way back, I was cast away.”
Eret’s face had grief. Dream didn’t stop.
“I am hunting them and killing them and I am doing it the way I know how to live. You have your castle and your resources and tell me, brother, what have you done?”
Eret stayed quiet.
“I came to warn you that there’s a plot against you. My crew is suspicious that I vanish when I’m here. Your guards have poor rotation covering your balcony, it was too easy for me to get in.”
“Would you rather I make it more difficult for you?”
“I rather you make it difficult for anyone. No one should be kidnapped from their bed. Not from here. Not again.”
He brought his boots down off the desk. Leaning forward to stand only to feel his head turning light and the room tilt around him. His breath stuttering in his chest as he reached for the desk to steady himself.
“Dream?”
Heavy steps moved around the desk to get to him. Dream lowered himself back to the seat.
“What is it? What—”
“Your guards are pathetic but I’ll admit they’re sometimes a good shot.”
He pressed his hand to his side where the bullet had torn through his body. His palm came away bloody. Eret’s gasp sounded painful.
“You’ve been shot this whole time?!”
“I’ve been shot before.”
“Dream—”
“It’s only been a few hours. I’ll make it back to the ship. I’ll be fine.”
Eret’s hands fluttered over him. Dream held his anger toward the man but he knew that Eret had done the best that he could with the information he had as they were growing up. He had thought his brother was dead and when the famed pirate captain of the Manhunt showed up claiming to be the boy that had died in a fire, it hadn’t been pretty. Anger had split the two of them apart again. It had taken time for them to bond with each other. To speak to one another. To know what they both were.
They’d made their plans ages ago and slow going as they were, there was still time.
They were making their progress.
“Let me get bandages.”
“Don’t.” He was already shaking his head. “My crew will be suspicious.”
“Say a kind citizen tended you. They love you in the lower rings.”
“Because their King taxes too heavily and sends guards patrolling to assault people who don’t bow and kiss the cobble each time a crown is mentioned.”
He didn’t bother to hide the anger and bitterness. Eret just watched him.
“I’m not leaving you bleeding out.”
“I’m fine.”
“Stand up then.”
Dream did. He made it two steps before his brother’s arms were around him again. Holding him up against his chest and Dream swallowed the urge to curse at him as Eret dragged him back toward the chair again.
“You can’t make it to your ship like this.”
“It’s not far.”
“It’s down the side of a palace wall and you can barely walk three steps in a flat floored room.”
He would conceded that Eret had a point to that.
“How do I get you home?”
Home as in the Manhunt. Home was not the palace. It hadn’t been since he was a child.
“Dress me like a noble. Give me your clothes. Pretend that I’m one of your courtiers and drunk and help me walk to a carriage. I’ll have them take me to the town square.”
Where his crew was meant to meet. Where Dream had failed to meet. If they had moved back to the ship thinking he was hiding away from the guards they would have noticed by now that something was wrong. They would be looking for him. He could get out to them.
“Your crew—”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“What will you tell them.”
He didn’t know. He was sure they would question why he would be in a royal carriage and why he would be wearing the King’s clothes but he trusted his mouth. Even half delirious and numb from bloodloss, Dream knew he could make a convincing story. He could make a convincing anything. He only had to try for it. He could do it. He could manage this.
“Maybe I’ll tell them you trussed me up and sent me back as a gift.”
The Manhunt held a notoriously cruel crew that adored their Captain. Violently protective and insatiable when they caught a scent of blood they wanted.
"Dream.”
Eret’s voice was a mix of pleading and threatening. He laughed.
“I won’t. I’ll tell them I stole it when I was making my escape after being captured. They’ll patch me up. I’ll be fine.”
Eret didn’t move.
“I’m losing blood, Eret. Any day now would be great.”
“Tell me when you’re safe.”
He swallowed and nodded. He heard the worry and honesty from his brother’s tone.
“I will, I promise.”
With a nod, Eret stood and left to find him clothes.