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"I, Caligula, am a God. I only have to nod and your throats will be cut!"

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"Techno!"

Zephyr had sprung to her feet faster than George could compute. She leaped off of the stairs and bounded up to the unexpected visitor, throwing herself into his arms and he spun her around.

George walked down the steps and watched the pair spin, with Zephyr giggling like a young girl. He had gotten within only a few feet of the pair when the visitor, Techno, put Zephyr down.

Zephyr turned excitedly to George, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She looked giddy with excitement; her dark eyes flashing with fire and delight.

"George, you've met him before, but this is Techno; referred to as the Blood God within the realm of gladiators," Zephyr exclaimed. "He's basically my brother."

George looked up at the man with pink hair, now significantly cleaner than when he saw him last at the pardoning ceremony.

His cuts had been cleaned, the deeper wounds dressed. He was no longer bare-chested, for he wore a scratchy tunic similar to what Dream wore. His arms and legs were now clean of any dirt, and his pinkish hair cascaded past his shoulders with a healthy shine.

Techno bowed to George politely. "Domine."

George appraised the former gladiator. "Congratulations on your pardon, and it is a pleasure to meet you."

These words came from the emperors mouth with ease, but his stomach twisted and he suddenly felt nauseous.

Dream was meant to win.

But he didn't.

"Domine, I want to sincerely apologise for the condition I've put Nightmare in. I understand that he was your bodyguard, and by... winning the fight, you will never be able too see h—"

George held up a hand to stop Techno from talking any more. The emperors eyes welled with tears, and Zephyr noticed this, reaching over to slip her hand into his.

Techno raised his brows and shifted awkwardly, possibly thinking that he was the reason for the emperors sudden shift in mood.

However, before anyone was able to change the topic of conversation, even more visitors showed up.

Bounding up the hill from the golden gates was Wilbur and Ranboo, walking side by side, followed by Tommy, Tubbo and Quackity.

All five of them stopped short when they caught sight of Techno standing before the emperor.

"T-Techno?" Tubbo choked, before barging past his friends and allowing the ex-gladiator to wrap him in a tight, brotherly hug.

The other four followed; all rushing in to hug themselves around Techno, who squirmed and groaned uncomfortably as he was wedged between his brothers and friends.

"We've missed you so much!" Tommy's voice could be heard from where his face was smushed into Technos shoulder.

Techno made a monotonous sound of discomfort as Zephyr tugged on George's hand, leading him away from the reunion of the six.

"Let's give them some time to catch up," Zephyr murmured softly, leading George up the steps and into the villa. "This way, domine."

Zephyr took George into the parlour, pushing him down into one of the various soft chairs. She slunk down into another adjacent, and watched as George took several deep breaths.

"Are you going to take me to him?" George asked, and Zephyr shook her head.

"Not yet, domine. The doctors are still working on him."

George appeared as though he had deflated; shoulders sinking and regal posture crumpling. Zephyr took sympathy in the emperors vulnerable state, attempting to brighten the mood.

"If it makes you feel better, by pardoning Techno, you just reunited him with us, his family, who haven't seen him properly in over six years."

"Holy shit," George let his 'emperor like' language slip away from him. "Are you serious?"

Zephyr nodded eagerly. "Yes!"

"Then, oh my gosh, go and see him!"

Zephyr smiled sheepishly. "That's okay, domine, I'll stay with you to make sure—"

"Zephyr, I swear to all the gods above that if you don't go and reunite with Techno right, I will throw you into a pit of asps."

"Oh..." Zephyr got to her feet, but smiled. "Thanks Georgie, don't go anywhere."

She then zipped out of the parlour, and George listened to her squeal with excitement as she ran down the front steps and, presumably, into the arms of an awaiting Blood God.

George sat in silence, tapping his foot against the polished floor as he looked around the parlour.

"Don't go anywhere..." George mimicked Zephyr's words, making his voice go higher.

He rolled his eyes and got to his feet. Then, soundlessly, he tiptoed past the front door and down the hall, sneaking up to the door of Dream's bedroom.

The door was closed, so George placed his head against the surface, straining to listen to the voices beyond.

"...lost a lot of blood..."

"...possibility of severe..."

"...traumatic injuries to his..."

The muffled words filtering through the heavy door swam around George's brain. Almost as though he was drunk, George stumbled backwards, catching himself on the opposite wall, bracing his hands and back against the cool marble.

Laboured breaths flew through the emperors diaphragm as he regained composure, smoothing down the front of his toga, brushing off the anxious, nauseating thoughts clouding his judgement.

Briskly, George knocked on the door of the room, but not too loud. His fist hit the door lightly and, after just a moment of brief hesitation, the door was opened to reveal one of the doctors.

The man bowed immediately. "Your highness, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I want to know what's going on." George said and the doctor nodded, stepping aside obediently to let the emperor into the room.

After closing the door, the doctor turned to George to explain, while two other doctors and Kristin busied themselves caring for Dream.

George couldn't even look at the fallen gladiator.

"Well, we are just finishing up. There is nothing more we can do for him today, but we will be back tomorrow," The doctor said. "However, in his state, he will need around the clock care, and so we will each take turns keeping an eye on him."

George nodded stiffly. "Alright, but what can I do?"

"Domine?"

"What can I do to... you know, help him?"

The doctor raised his brows in surprise. "Well, making sure his wounds and the dressings are clean would be a good start, and checking to make sure he is still breathing throughout the night..."

Another doctor shook his head. "But, your highness, we can easily care for him. You have no need to worry—!"

"I will worry if I want to," George replied. "And, therefore, if you all are finished for the day, help yourself to a drink in the kitchen before you leave."

The doctors all bowed in respect, not challenging George's words as they packed up and left the room without another word. From the end of the bed, Kristin looked at George in amusement.

George bit his lip, finally allowing his eyes to wander down to the bed, where Dream lay. The blond gladiator was barely alive; short, shallow breaths, his bruised chest rising and falling fast, like that of a scared rabbit.

His abdomen was wrapped tightly in gauze, which snaked also up and around his shoulders and arms, obscuring George's view of the multiple gashes that riddled his flesh.

George let his eyes land on the gladiators head, fully expecting to see Dream's face for the first time. But Dream's face was obscured by a thin veil of sorts, not covered by Techno's boar head like George remembered.

"I covered his face before the doctors got in," Kristin told the emperor. "No one has seen him, don't worry."

George didn't acknowledge the kind woman's words and continued to stare at the gladiator with guilt nestled deep into his stomach like a stone sinking into sand.

Only when Kristin chuckled did George flick his dark-eyed gaze over to her and away from Dream's severely injured state.

"You really care for this boy, don't you?"

George looked Kristin dead in the eyes, and she looked back with a kind of motherly ferocity George had not seen since his youth.

Finally, caving in, George hung his head, plucking at the belt of his toga as he stared at the ground.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes." George grumbled.

"Yes..." Kristin laughed as the door behind them opened.

"Yes...? What are we saying yes too?" It was Schlatt, having weaselled his way into the imperial villa.

George cursed under his breath as Schlatt entered the room. Kristin, taking this as her cue to leave, bowed to Schlatt and pat George kindly on the shoulder, before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

The room descended into silence as Schlatt leaned his back against the door, arms folded across his chest. One of his hands came up to stroke his facial hair as he peered at the gladiator on the bed, to George.

Emperor George eyed Schlatt with uncertainty, backing away, the backs of his knees hitting the edge of Dream's bed.

"What do you want?" George asked, one hand on his hip, the other at his side; fingers brushing against the part of his thigh where he had strapped his dagger.

"I think you know." Schlatt said.

George raised a brow. "I don't know, that's why I asked you fucking idiot."

Schlatt sneered, kicking himself off of the door and taking a step forward. "Domine, Dream lost the fight. He must return with me back to my ludus."

"He's literally on the brink of death."

Schlatt ignored this. "I wish to take him home."

George huffed. "No."

"No?" Schlatt took another step forward.

George stood his ground. "No. He will not be leaving this premises unless I say so and, therefore, he will not be leaving with you ever again."

Schlatt's eyes widened as he took in George's authoritative words. He stroked his facial hair again, looking George up and down mockingly, before laughing. His laugh was dry and condescending, and George wanted to throttle him.

"Domine, please, don't make this any harder than it needs to be. I'm just here to collect my property, then I will graciously leave."

George was fuming now. "You will not be taking him anywhere. He is not your property, and you have no right to dictate his entire life."

"I do own him—"

"—Not anymore, you don't. As the Emperor of the Roman Empire, I hereby pardon Dream in the name of Rome and the gods above, for he has honoured his righteousness, and upheld his gladiatorial dignity," George concluded by prodding Schlatt harshly in the chest. "Now, fuck off."

Schlatt's face moulded into a deep scowl, his brows furrowing, causing his eyes to darken menacingly. A storm brewed behind his facial expression of resentment, but George stood his ground.

"You have five seconds to get out of my sight, and leave my property, before I have you persecuted and executed." George uttered, chin held high.

Seeing no way out of this, Schlatt backed down, throwing the door open with a renewed, but angry gusto.

"You'll regret this," Schlatt muttered. "I'll make sure you regret this."

George nodded and waved spitefully, a tight-lipped and unamused smile painted across his pale face. When he was sure that Schlatt was safely out of the building, the emperor turned back to the felled gladiator, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

George watched the uneven rise and fall of the blond's chest, and the soft, stuttered fluttering of the veil laid across his face.

"I failed you, didn't I?" George spoke aloud. "I should never have let you out of my sight. I should never have let myself be so stupid, and cold towards you. I was an arsehole, I know. But you still saved my life. And hopefully, by some miracle, I'll be able to save yours too."

He was met with silence. A dark, solemn silence which caused his ears to ring softly.

George sighed, eyeing the veil. He could take it off. He could see who had been hiding under the mask.

But he didn't.

He couldn't.

But what he could do was slowly get to his feet and trudge across the room. Stopping at the door, he cast a quick look over Dream's unconscious form, before closing the door, and walking down the hall.

He didn't fail to notice the monarch butterfly that flew through his window and swirled above his head. It was odd to see one of them at this time of night. It's orange wings flapping lazily as it fluttered around the hallway, before exiting the exact way it came in.

It floated off into the sky; a perfect, starry night sky; and George watched it go with an ache in his heart.

George smiled, whispering softly: "Goodbye."

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Hey homies, this is an authors note!

I love butterflies

(Don't worry, this is not the end— only a few more chapters to go!)

This chapters question/statement: what kind of weather would you match with yourself and why?

Until next time,

Blue :)