LOSING GAME ➳ dreamwastaken

𝐦𝐲 𝐥'𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠

Sunset was Reverie's favourite time of day. Ripples and waves or purple, orange and pink painted the blank canvas of the blue sky and warm light bathed the lands. Sunset also meant the time of day that Reverie would get to see Dream was swiftly approaching. Now, of course, she lived with him, so she was in his company all day, but for over a year of sneaking around, the night belonged to Dream and Daydream.

Reverie: a noun, meaning a state of being pleasantly lost in your thoughts, or a daydream. Coincidental, Reverie thought, that her name should mean daydream and her boyfriend's name was Dream.

Diurnal animals settled into their habitats for the night and Wilbur lit a campfire on the edge of the pond. Tubbo and Eret decided they would skip munching on toasted marshmallows, instead choosing to wash down the inside of the Camarvan as it so desperately needed to be cleaned. Wilbur retrieved his guitar from inside the van and he and Reverie sat cross-legged on the cold ground.

Reverie was reminded, with a blossom of warm familiarity and comfort, of the many times she and Wilbur had sat on the floor of the latter's home and he would play a new song he had written, or some older ones that Reverie adored.

"I've got a new one to show you," Wilbur said. He placed the guitar in the grass. "I don't know why I took out the guitar, I don't need it."

Reverie was bewildered but intrigued nonetheless. She sat forward, resting her head in her hands, and smiled and nodded, encouraging Wilbur to proceed. Clearing his throat and straightening his shoulders, Wilbur gently closed his eyes and began to sing gentle notes of a sweet yet daunting tune that Reverie would have never expected.

I heard there was a special place,

Where men could go and emancipate,

The brutality and the tyranny of their rulers.

Well this place is real, you needn't fret,

With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo and Eret,

It's a very big and not blown up L'Manberg.

My L'Manberg,

My L'Manberg,

My L'Manberg,

My L'Manberg.

Goosebumps surfaced on Reverie's skin. The flames of the campfire danced in the approaching nightfall, casting shadows and orange beams upon Wilbur's face as he sang. He opened his eyes and a smile curved his lips.

"The L'Manberg National Anthem," he said. "What do you think?"

"It's... beautiful, Will," Reverie's voice came out in a breath of awe. "Haunting, in a way, but really beautiful."

"My L'Manberg," Wilbur said. A tingle ran down Reverie's spine.

She smiled, somewhat sadly, at her best friend. "This place really means a lot to you, huh?"

"So much," Wilbur nodded in confirmation.

Chewing her lip unsurely as she stared out at the sun that was sinking below the walls of L'Manberg, Reverie came to a hesitant decision.

"Then I'll help you get your independence," she said. "I'll help you, but I'm still going to try and save Dream, convince him to see reason."

The following moments were filled with heavy silence as Wilbur stared into the flames, absent-mindedly prodding them with a stick that he had found laying on the ground.

"You're seeing him, aren't you?" Wilbur asked, finally breaking his gaze away from the crackling fire to lock eyes with Reverie. Although she already knew that Wilbur was aware of their relationship—she had seen the understanding dawn in his eyes the day she signed the Declaration of War—she still felt her heart leap into her throat when Wilbur's words left him.