For The King @wewereinfinite
For The King This is a port of a oneshot from Wattpad. Enjoy!!

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8 Years Earlier

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Tall straws of grass grazed and waved gently as the winds breezed across the wide and open field of green. The castle on top of the hill towered over the meadows filled with chamomile and dandelions. A stone path leading downwards of the hill was worn and cracked by those who walked before, damaged by footprints, and aged over time. The scattered stone slabs lead to the bottom of the hill, where the beach was. This was George’s destination.

It was nearing evening now, and George needed to find this troublemaker before the nightly military role call. 

This idiot is going to need an even bigger punishment this time, George thought to himself as he slammed the entrance gates to the castle open and ran down the hill, following the pathway to the beach. 

He was looking for the rookie knight new to the army, a rebellious and talented swordsman, who was somehow approved by the captain despite his poor attitude towards the king. Not much is known about this guy, not even the military captain knows about the personal details. Only the basics were assumed: he’s twenty-one years old, and he has quite the criminal record. Alleged robbery from multiple other kingdoms. Again, it baffled George how out of every person in the kingdom, it had to be him that would be one of the new freshman trainees, one partially responsible for the safety of all of the village citizens. George had a bad feeling about this dude.

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Present Day.

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“Oh, George~!” A greeting shot the king through his ears.

“...Clay?”

George could not believe his eyes when he saw his best friend, Clay, sheepishly walk across the satin carpet all the way to the throne room. He was battered up and bruised badly, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

Silence. Clay stood like a statue. His iron armor was bent and rusted. His once optimistic eyes were now dreary and tired. His hair was ruffled, he grew some stubble on his chin and even some arm hair too. But that smile...was still the same after all these years.

George was frozen. His body couldn’t move. He wanted to run and hug him, but he just couldn’t move. Why can't he move? His best friend has returned from a six-year war, why can’t he move?

Clay laughed. It echoed through the main hall and bounced off of the walls. It was the same laugh he always did when George did or said something silly. 

“C’mon dude, why the long face?”

George smirked.

“Even after all this time, you still cant address me as ‘your highness?’”

The duo chuckled. 

More silence. And then a gulp from George.

As much as the king tried to keep his cool most of the time, this was different. It’s been a while since he and Clay stood face to face. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. His eyes were glassy now. Clay’s smirk furrowed into a concerned lip part. 

Before he can even mutter a word of comfort, George leaped from one side of the room to the other at light speed. His red coat flew off his shoulders and fluttered gracefully to the ground. He wrapped Clay around his arms as if his life depended on it. The knight couldn’t even process what happened before falling to the ground, taking George with him. 

The two were lying on the ground. George didn’t mutter any noise. He pressed his face close to Clay’s armor. More silence ensued.

George sighed and picked his body up and sat on the floor. “Dickhead.”

Clay sat himself up and made eye contact with George at just the right time to see that he had shed a single tear. His were puffy too. Clay thought, was he crying on top of me? For real?

George wiped his face with the palm of his hand and gained some more composure before asking Clay a question.

“How come you never wrote to me?”

“There was never time. I was constantly traveling and I only had some leisure time at night, and even then I would be too tired to pick up a quill. Im sorry.” Clay was showing some actual remorse. It was rare that he did this, only if he got George really upset. 

“Understandable,” George replied. “I mean, I don’t have a lot of free time myself either, since im so busy running everything in the kingdom. I should’ve been the first to send you a letter.”

“No, dude, it’s ok,” Clay said, “I mean, it would’ve been a huge help to remind me, but not mandatory in any way.”

“I hope you didn’t need any major reminders while in battle.”

“Haha, nothing like that, don’t worry, I was on my best behavior.”

Georges eyebrow furrowed. “I have a feeling you’re lying to me.”

“Not at all. Trust me.”

George blurted out something stupid, something he had been thinking ever since Clay left for the war. It constantly bugged him, despite the fact that the majority of their interactions were bickering and insults. 

“...how much did you miss me?” It just sort of slipped out of his mouth. 

The silence this time was deafening. Clay looked down at his feet. He was now sitting crisscrossed. It took a few seconds to think of a response. 

“A ton.”

“...for real?”

“Absolutely.”

Clay was telling the truth. You could tell easily at this point because his voice was quieter, more mellow than his usual loudness. 

“...me too.”

Clay leaned in for a tender hug. George wrapped his arms around his shoulders. The knight did the same. It was a much nicer hug than the first. More comfortable, safer.

“I have a gift for you George.”

The king’s eyes widened. “I hope it’s not poisonous,” joked George.

“It’s not even food!”

Clay grabbed his satchel and dug through to find a gift for George. Without saying anything, he pulled out a record.

“A disk?” Questioned George. “Where did you find something as random as a disk?”

“In one of the bases we raided,” the knight answered swiftly. He handed the disk to George. 

George took a long stare at the record. It was labeled with a blue covering, but the words were so scraped that it was illegible. Surprisingly, the disk was still in good condition even after being in the bag. No dents or cracks.

“Are you proud of me for not breaking something for once?”

“This is for me?”

Clay looked surprised.

“Of course it’s for you! I know you love playing music while you get ready for bed, so I thought maybe having this around would be a nice souvenir. Plus, it’s blue. I also know you really like the color blue.”

“...I do,” George muttered in a soft tone. “Thank you so much. It really was a kind gesture.”

“No problem man!” Clay grinned with pride.

“Oh, you know what,” George blurted out, “I should actually go and play this right now! Follow me to my room!”

The two bounced up from their sitting positions and walked side by side into the throne room leading to the dozens of staircases. 

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8 Years Earlier

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The jog wasn’t too long, although George was out of breath despite that. He was now standing in front of a private apple forest for people who lived on the castle grounds. Trees loomed over an unnaturally open gap and led straight across to the beach. The pathway used to be blocked by thorny rose bushes initially, but they were cleared out by the previous keepers. There were even newly installed stone bricks leading to the ocean, and lanterns placed on both sides. George couldn’t admire the scenery for too long, he had a mission to accomplish. His leather boots clacked on top of the pathway as he ran towards the ocean. 

And there the king stood, looking at the horizon. The sun was just about to set, and the sky was slowly fading into gold. The waves gently crashed onto the sand, creating a soothing soothing brushing sound. A tall figure stood ankle-deep into the water.

“Hey! This is King NotFound speaking!” George yelled at the figure.

The figure turned his head. His face was covered with a white mask with a smiley face painted on. He had a brown hooded cape and some worn leather trousers.

George screamed at the man, “I know you’re the one who snuck out of the military quarters. I command you to come here this instant!”

“Shut up jackass,” the man replied with annoyance in his voice. 

“Refer to me with respect and dignity or your suspension will be longer.”

The man sighed. He walked out of the water and slowly trotted to George, taking his mask off at the same time.

The king made sure to get a good look at the man this time. He had dirty blonde hair, bright green eyes, an abundance of freckles on his arms and shoulders, and a mischievous smile that made him look even more punchable than before. 

George cleared his throat. “I don’t need to remind again that you have to ask permission from the captain to leave castle ground, so I’ll just ask this; why do you keep sneaking out all the time?”

“Why is it considered sneaking out?” replied the man, with his eyebrows crooked in a confusing position. “Im not trying to escape or anything. I just wanted to see the beach, that's all.”

“Well, it doesn't matter your intent, you still broke the rules AGAIN.”

“...radical.”

“I’ll be escorting you to the castle now.”

The two walked together back to the castle. The man seemed uncomfortable as the journey went along. George noticed this and found it peculiar. This was the same man who talked back and shouted obscenities at every possible second, and yet he was hanging is low and nervously cracking his fingers.

For some absurd reason, George felt pity for the troublemaker. As much as he was a major annoyance, he seems truly passionate about becoming a real knight. George recalled overseeing a few of the recent combat classes the captain held. The majority of the latest session was full of rookies, one of them being the mysterious man next to him. He noticed that while the man was clumsy with his form, he had speed, guts, and determination. He never talked back to the captain during these sessions either; in fact, he never talked back to the captain period.

“...do you like the water?” It just sort of slipped out of George's mouth.

“Id says so,” replied the man. “I liked to swim a lot when I was younger.”

“What do you like about swimming?”

“...nothing particular, i just found it a fun-” the man cut himself off. “The fuck you asking me this shit for? Don’t try to butter me up, Mr. Nice Guy!”

“I just...noticed that you seemed upset.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“My mistake then?”

More silence, all the way up until George and the man got to the front gardens. They took a turn to the right, heading straight for the military quarters.

The man turned to George again saying, “Your name is George?”

“Yes,” George responded.

“...Im Dream.”

“No it's not,” George refuted, “no one would name their child a name as ridiculous as ‘Dream.’ Man, you’re a terrible liar.”

The man, whose alleged name was ‘Dream,’ groaned.

“Tell me your real name and maybe I’ll bargain with the captain to lower your punishment severity.”

“I only give my name to people I trust.”

“Then how can gain your trust?”

“Stop snitching on me.”

The king pondered. In the few times he spoke to Dream before this moment, his mere existence at the piqued his curiosity. This would be a great chance to get to know him better, and maybe find out why he’s so god damn irritating.

“Sure,” George agreed, “as long as from now on if you want to go to the beach, you have to ask the captain permission first.”

“The king gets what he wishes,” said Dream with a pompous tone. 

The two got to the military quarters, and just as George prepared to talk to the captain, Dream interrupted. With a shocking revelation. 

“My real name is Clay. Dream is just a nickname the captain gave me.”

“...that's even stupider than ‘Dream,’” George said with a chuckle.

“You’re an asshole,” Clay barked back.

“You’re a prick,” George replied.

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Present Day.

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George decided to ask another question to Clay while they climbed the final flight of stairs to the bedroom. “Why did the captain give you that nickname anyway?”

It took Clay a few seconds to think of what to say before he solemnly replied. “He said I had determination and perseverance that a rookie knight could only dream of having.”

“You two must have been a lot closer than I remember.”

“...I still miss him a lot. His birthday would’ve been yesterday. Remind me to visit his grave after dinner.”

“Can I come with you? I visited his grave yesterday. It would be nice to go for a second time with you.”

“I’d love that. Thanks, George.” Clay smiled. George didn't even notice how wide he was grinning too.

They finally got to George’s room. It was quite minimal furniture wise for a king, but gigantic. Tall walls hung with golden framed paintings of George were the only lavish thing about the room. The rest of the furniture was fancy but cheap wooden rococo designed. There was a table with a blue tablecloth at the foot of the bed that had a blue canopy hanging above. There were some wooden shelves with books and records, and a blue carpet in the center of the room.

George walked through his door and immediately rushed to the record player at the desk next to his bed. He placed the disk onto the record player while Clay excitedly waited for his reaction. The song that started to play was a beautiful classical piece, with soft flutes and elegant violins. 

“Aw, that's so pretty,” said George with a pleasant smile.

“I knew you’d like it! It sounds like the color blue too, dont’cha think?”

“...it sounds more like what green would sound like, actually.”

Clay sighed. “God, you’re still as pretentious as I remember.”

“And you’re still the same jackass I met at the beach all those years ago...I guess that's why the music sounds green to me, because I’ve always associated the color green with you?”

“And why’s that?” 

“Well,” George said, “when I think of green, I think of the night we met. I remember how much taller the grass was at the front of the castle, and how many trees I had to run past to get to the beach.” 

“...how pretentious of you.”

“It's not pretentious, is it? It's just what my brain associates with green. It's a bit embarrassing the more I think about it.”

Clay stood silent, enamored by how much George still cared about him even after all these years away from him. 

“Thanks for being my friend, even while I was away.”

“Thank you for trusting me all those years ago. I would have never met someone as wonderful as you.”

“It's no problem. Anything for the king,” Clay said with a chuckle.

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