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On August 19, exactly a week after his 16th birthday, Dream Wastake died.
Now, it wasn’t a particularly gruesome or sad death. He didn’t die from a school shooter or succumb slowly to a disease. In fact, his death was… kinda simple. Weird, but simple. He’d been on a bridge, and out of nowhere, a giant wolf had appeared and begun to terrorize bypassers. So Dream had leapt into the fray and killed the wolf to protect everyone, but in its final moments, it pushed him over the edge of the bridge. He fell at least 3 stories, hit the water hard, and died from a combination of the impact, his injuries, and drowning.
His mom set up a funeral for him. His friends and family mourned. After a while, though, their lives return to normal. And that should’ve been the end.
But it wasn’t. Because Dream Wastake wasn’t normal. He wasn’t your average 16-year-old. And he was about to discover that for people like him, after death comes a whole new life.
---
When Dream opens his eyes, his first thought is, Where am I?
He’s in a spacious courtyard, surrounded by high limestone walls. All around him, birch trees with strange golden leaves grow. In front of him is an 8-story mansion made of white and gray stone. Its double doors are made of dark wood, and even from here, he can see the wolf-head knockers.
He frowns, confused. Why is he here? Isn’t he dead? Maybe he’s not… maybe he just imagined dying…
But no, he definitely died. He remembers it clearly: the wolf on the bridge, wisps of blue glowing on its fur, its teeth bared in a menacing snarl. His axe, gifted to him by his father a long time ago, digging into its muscular body. Its paws knocking him back and off of the bridge. The explosion of pain as he hit the water and promptly died.
He’s dead.
So why is he here?
Suddenly, he remembers something else. A young woman with pink hair, gripping his wrist and tugging him through the air above a sea of gray clouds, her blue eyes piercing into his as she tells him, “Don’t let go or you’ll fall into the Gap.”
The pieces start to click together. Memories of the Norse myths that his mom used to tell him pop into his head, stories about Odin and the gods and women warriors called Valkyries, whose job it was to escort the worthy dead to an afterlife in Valhalla- stories she’d hinted were real. And his father, who’d gifted him a battle axe and told him he was different. His father, who’d taught him how to shapeshift. His father, who his mom would tell him was not just any old man.
If his father is who Dream thinks he is, and this place is what he thinks it is, does that mean that he died a worthy death?
Is he in Valhalla?
Dream slowly stands up. Something thunks against his leg, and he realizes that his battle axe is hanging from his side. Frowning, he touches its handle. It feels solid enough. But how did his axe travel to the afterlife with him?
Perhaps there’s someone inside the huge mansion who can answer the hundreds of questions floating around in his head. So he walks up to the doors, grabs one of the wolf head knockers, and lets it bang against the wood.
The doors swings open on its own. Hesitantly, Dream enters. He closes the door behind him, and when he turns around, his eyes widen in shock. “Whoa…” he breathes.
He’s standing in a gigantic room that resembles a hunting lodge. The dark red floor is covered with a huge rug made of various animal skins. Set in the right wall is a hearth, twice as tall as Dream and as wide as a good-sized bedroom. Polished shields hang from the rest of the walls, spears act as rafters in the high ceiling, and columns made of tree trunks support said ceiling.
Near the back wall of the room is a desk, set to the proportions of the rest of the room. Behind the desk is an announcement board, and sitting at it is a man. He has wild hair in various shades of blue, and Dream can see the twinkle in his eye even from here.
“Ah, a newcomer!” the man calls. “Come over here, boy.”
“Um, okay.” Dream approaches the desk and cranes his neck to read the board. There seem to be activities written on it, although they’re all very strange: Painting to the death, Italian buffet to the death, croquet to the death, and so on.
“What’s your name?” the man asks.
“Dream Wastake.”
“Alright.” The man scans a clipboard before saying, “You’ll be on floor 19, in a suite like everyone else. I’ll show you the way. Oh, and also, I’m Scott Smajor, but you can call me Scott. I’m Hotel Valhalla’s manager.”
So I am in Valhalla . “Wait!” Dream cries as Scott stands up. “Wait, I- I have so many questions.”
Scott smiles kindly. “Ah, yes. That’s not new. Don’t worry, everything will be explained at the Feast. Your Valkyrie will come collect you when it’s time for dinner, and she’ll anwer any questions you have. Now come along.”
Dream hurries to catch up as Scott walks briskly away. “Can you at least answer one?” he asks. “Why is my axe with me?”
“Any weapon you were holding when you died will be transported to the afterlife with you,” Scott explains. “Duck!”
“What duck?”
“No, duck!”
Dream yelps as a spear comes hurtling through the air towards him. His instincts kick in, and he throws himself to the ground. The spear flies over his head and thunks into the wall.
“Nice reflexes,” Scott says appreciatively. “You’ll do well on the battlefield.”
“Battlefield?”
“Like I said, your Valkyrie will explain everything at the Feast, which is in about an hour. So don’t worry, you won’t have to wait for long.”
As they enter a lounge-like area, filled with people playing cards or drinking beer, another spear whizzes past. It pierces a man right in the head, and he crumples to the floor, dead. His friends keep on playing their games as if nothing had happened.
“Uh…” Dream stares at the dead body. “Shouldn’t we be freaking out?”
“Why?” Scott asks quizzically.
“Someone just died!”
“Oh, that happens all the time. If he’s quick, he should be able to respawn in time for dinner.”
“Wait- you can respawn?”
“Of course. No matter where you die, whether it’s in a mock battle or during violence in the halls, you always respawn. It takes some people longer than others, but it shouldn’t take more than a day.”
They reach an elevator. Scott presses the button and ushers Dream inside. Another press of a button sends the elevator up, and Dream frowns as a song that sounds vaguely like ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ starts playing. “Is that Frank Sinatra but in Norse?”
“Yes. Our elevator music is wonderful.”
Dream can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or not. He decides not to ask.
“Ah, here we are,” Scott says as the elevator stops and the doors slide open. “Floor 19, your new home.”
New home . “So… I’m dead forever, right?”
Scott tilts his head as they walk down a large, spacious corridor, lined every 50 feet with doors and with the same design as the rest of the hotel. “Technically, yes. You are dead, and you cannot come back to life. However, like I said, you can still die, but as long as you’re within the boundaries of Hotel Valhalla, you’ll be able to respawn. And I think you’ll find soon that you can do a lot more here than you could when you were alive.”
They turn a corner and reach a hallway that leads to a dead end. As they walk, Dream slows down to read the plaques next to each door. One of them says Sapnap Pandas . Another reads Bad Halo . There’s Ant Frost , George Notfound , and Sam Nook . Probably names of the inhabitants of each room. He wonders if he’ll ever meet any of them.
“Here we are,” Scott says as he stops in front of the last door. “This will be your suite.” He fishes a small stone out of his pocket and holds it out. Dream takes it, noticing that there’s a rune-like symbol on it.
“Think of it as your key,” Scott explains. “ Dagaz . The rune used to open doors. Simply press it to the door where the doorknob would be, and it’ll open.”
Dream follows the instructions, and the door swings open. Peeking in, he can see a huge room (because of course it’s huge) with 3 sections radiating off of it. His mouth drops open in awe. “Wow,” he breathes for the second time that day.
“Indeed,” Scott says. “Each suite is specially designed to fit the taste of its inhabitant. You’ll find that everything in your afterlife is tailored to you and your enjoyment. I have to go now, but your Valkyrie will be around soon to give you a tour and take you to dinner. Enjoy your stay!” With that, Scott disappears.
Dream steps into his new suite, closing the door behind him. His mouth is still open in shock, but he can help it. Because so far, his suite is… amazing .
The room he’s standing in- the atrium, perhaps- resembles an indoor garden. Smooth wooden floors form a ring around a large circle of grass. In this circle of grass stands a large oak tree, its branches stretching towards the ceiling and located in the perfect places for climbing. Small rosebushes- his favorite flower- grow in the grass circle, and the whole place carries the faint smell of vanilla.
He slowly walks closer and places his hands on the trunk of the tree. His feet itch with the urge to climb, but he pushes it down. He can climb later. Right now, he wants to explore the rest of his suite.
The short hallway to his right leads into a spacious bedroom. The walls are painted a soft emerald green, and the bed is king-sized. A small blob plush sits on one of the pillows. He walks over, picks it up, and gives it a squeeze, smiling at its softness.
On the left side of the atrium, another short hallway ends in a bathroom. The walls are painted the same shade of green as the bedroom, and there’s a fully functional sauna, but Dream doesn’t spend too much time in there. Instead, he heads back and goes down the final hallway, the one opposite of the entry door.
This one leads to a grand living room/kitchen combo. There’s a big couch and a few armchairs arranged in a circle around a hearth, with a TV attached to the wall above the mantle. On either side of the hearth are bookshelves, filled to the brim with all of his favorite books. The other side of the room is a kitchen area, fully furnished with a fridge, a microwave, and an oven and stovetop.
Dream takes a moment to run his fingers over the spines of the books on the shelves and quickly read all the titles. Then he returns to the atrium. Without wasting a second, he unhooks his battle axe from his belt, tosses it aside, and begins to climb the tree. His experienced fingers grip the bark tightly, and within seconds, he’s reached a branch that’s at least 10 feet away from the floor. He perches there, balancing with ease, and stares up at the leaf canopy above.
Despite the questions still floating in his mind, a sense of serenity washes over him. He feels at home here, relaxing in a tree like he used to do when he was alive. Nature has always been where he belongs, and it seems that the hotel knows that. It also seems to know his favorite colors and his favorite books.
I could get used to this , Dream thinks, stretching out on the branch and staring up at the leaves. Maybe Scott was right. Maybe he’ll enjoy the afterlife. Sure, he still misses his old life, but it’s not like he can go back. Might as well get comfortable and enjoy his new home.
After what feels like hours of relaxing on his back and watching the leaves rustle, there’s a knock on the door. Dream reluctantly clambers down from the tree and pads over to the door. He opens it, revealing a young woman with pink hair and blue eyes- the same young woman who had flown him over the gray clouds after he’d died.
“Hello!” she says, smiling cheerfully. “I’m Niki Nihachu. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Hi,” Dream replies, nervously returning her smile. “Are- are you my Valkyrie?”
Niki nods. “I am. Are you ready to go on a tour and then have dinner?”
“Sure.” Dream glances behind him, where his axe still lays on the floor. “Should I bring my axe?”
“Feasts aren’t usually violent, but you can if you want,” Niki replies.
“Okay. I’ll just leave it, then.” Dream steps out into the corridor, closing the door of his suite behind him. “Let’s go, I guess.”
“Follow me,” Niki says, starting down the hallway. Dream follows, easily keeping up with her leisurely pace. “I’m sure you already know this, but this is your hallway. You’ll probably get to know your hallmates very well in the upcoming years.”
“Wait, years?” Dream asks, frowning. “How long do I stay here?”
Niki shrugs. “Depends. Hotel Valhalla is not your final resting place. It is merely where you stay and train while you wait for Ragnarok to come.”
“Ragnarok. You mean the final battle? The one that takes place at the end of the world?” Dream remembers the name from those myths his mom used to tell him.
Niki nods. “That’s the one. You are an einherjar now, one of Odin’s immortal warriors. Your job is to train and build your skills until he calls, at which point you and your fellow einherji will charge into battle.”
“Okay.” Dream lets out a slow breath. “That’s… a lot to take in.”
“I know,” Niki says, smiling sympathetically. “Don’t worry, though. Ragnarok will not come for a long time. Just relax and enjoy your stay.” She ducks as a battle-axe flies through the air.
“Is it always this violent in the hallways?” Dream asks.
Niki laughs. “Oh, yes. There are always weapons being thrown around. And during battles, things get even more messy.”
“Are there battles every day?”
“Yes. There’s a different type of battle depending on what day of the week it is. Don’t worry, though, they only last about 2 hours. For the rest of the day, you’re free to participate in whatever activity you want. There are always lots of options to choose from. Keep in mind, though, that they’re all to the death.”
“How do you do Italian buffet to the death?” Dream wonders, recalling the board in the lobby.
“Salad forks- lots of them,” Niki says seriously.
Dream decides not to question further out of pure fear.
They reach the elevator, and Niki presses the button. “While we wait, do you have any questions?”
“A lot,” Dream admits.
Niki laughs softly. “That’s normal, and it’s what I’m here for. Ask away.”
There are so many questions that it’s hard to choose which one to ask first. Eventually, Dream settles on asking, “Can einherji be demigods?”
“Of course. Many are, and the rest are regular mortals. Getting into Valhalla isn’t about your heritage, it’s about your bravery. In order to get in, you must die a heroic and unplanned death.”
“What if you don’t?”
“Then the Valkyrie who brought you in is punished.”
“Why’d you pick me, then?”
Niki gives Dream a gentle smile. “Your death was very brave, Dream. You sacrificed yourself to save others. And you killed a fully-grown wolf all by yourself. If that doesn’t qualify you, then nothing will.”
“Okay. I believe you.”
“Why did you ask about the demigods?”
Dream hesitates. “I- I think I’m one. Actually, I know I’m one. I’m just not sure who my dad is.”
“That’s normal,” Niki says. The elevator doors slide open, and she gently pulls Dream inside. “Many demigods don’t know who their godly parent is. Do you have any theories or clues?”
Again, Dream hesitates. “I think my dad is Loki. I can shapeshift, and my mom always said that I’m clever like my dad. And Loki is the trickster god, isn’t he? I just never got confirmation from either of them.”
Niki nods. “Well, it certainly sounds like your dad is Loki.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Depends on who you ask. Many einherji don’t trust Loki because of the things that he’s done, and by extension, they don’t trust his children either. But I think most einherji won’t mind. Around here, violence is common, but it’s usually not targeted. During battles, warriors go for whoever’s the closest or the easiest, and in the halls, it’s usually just a misthrown spear. So I wouldn’t worry.”
“Okay,” Dream says, releasing a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “One more question. Are Valkyries dead?”
Niki shakes her head. “No. We are still alive; we just have access to Valhalla so we can deliver the worthy dead. Outside of my Valkyrie work, I live a normal life.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?”
“That’s two questions,” Niki says, but her tone is teasing. “Well, I’m 19, almost 20, and I live in Boston. During the day, I go to college and study to become a therapist. At nighttime, I fulfill my duties as a Valkyrie.”
“What duties do you have?”
“Taking the souls of those who died bravely, for one. We also take turns being waitresses in the Feast Hall of the Slain during dinner. And sometimes, Odin will send us on missions. The All Father picks every Valkyrie himself.”
“Wow. That sounds cool.”
“Yes, it is quite an interesting job. But if we die, we die.”
“Oh yeah. So does that mean that if someone chops my head off, I’ll still resurrect?”
“Yes. Only that way will you be able to die every day.”
“That’s cheerful.”
“Quite,” Niki agrees as the elevator doors open and release them onto the first floor. “Follow me. It’s time for dinner.”
The Feast Hall of the Slain, as it turns out, is less of a dining hall and more of a concert hall, big enough to seat at least a hundred thousand people. Doors circle the entire perimeter of the room, about a hundred of them. Long tables are placed where the rows of seats would be in a regular concert hall, curving down towards the middle, almost like an arena. In the center, a gigantic tree stands, its branches forming a canopy at the ceiling. Water spills down from somewhere near its top and splashes into a lake at its trunk.
“Wow,” Dream murmurs. “Why is everything here so big?”
“We have a lot of einherji ,” Niki points out. “Come. We will sit at the table of honor because you are a new warrior.”
The table of honor is next to the head table, which isn’t much different from other tables besides the fact that it seems to seat high-level residents. Scott is there, for example, along with several men dressed in fancy outfits- “Thanes,” Niki whispers in Dream’s ear. There’s also an empty throne Dream assumes must be for Odin, the king of the gods.
“It looks like you are the only worthy dead tonight,” Niki says as she gestures for Dream to take a seat at the table of honor, which is devoid of any other people.
“Is that bad?”
“No. It just means that only you died heroically today.” Niki sits down next to him. “A Valkyrie will come by soon with your food.”
“What kind of food is it?”
“Well, the meat comes from an animal named Saehrimnir. Every night we kill it and roast it for dinner, and in the morning it resurrects. It tastes like different things depending on what part of it you’re eating.”
Right on cue, a Valkyrie swoops by and deposits a plate in front of Dream. His mouth waters as he takes in the gravy-covered meath and buttered bread and mashed potatoes. “Can I eat?” he asks.
Niki laughs. “Go ahead.”
Using his fork, Dream spears a piece of meat and pops it into his mouth. “Mmm,” he mumbles, relishing in the delicious flavor. “Tastes like beef.”
“Probably the right shoulder, then.” Niki takes a bite of her own food, freshly delivered by another Valkyrie. “I’m vegan, so I always ask for the left flank. That part tastes like tofu.”
“So what happens after we eat?” Dream asks as he nibbles on some bread.
“We’ll view your video,” Niki replies. “Every Valkyrie is required to wear a camera so she can record the deaths that she witnesses. That way, when she brings a new warrior to Valhalla, everyone can watch the video and judge whether the death was truly heroic or not.”
“Oh.” Dream sets his fork down, suddenly not feeling hungry at all. He tries to quell the nervousness rising in his chest, but it stubbornly refuses to calm.
Seeing his expression, Niki hastily says, “Don’t worry about it, Dream. I’ve never seen anyone get rejected because their video was bad.”
“Always a first time for everything,” Dream mutters, but he does his best not to worry about it. Picking his fork back up, he continues to eat, although the food tastes blander than before.
Much too soon, Scott stands up and raises his goblet. The entire hall falls into silence, and all eyes go to the table of honor. Dream shivers, his hands shaking with anxiety. Normally, he doesn’t mind attention, but this time it’s different. This time, the eyes on him are expectant and judging, waiting to see what heroics he’d performed. And if it’s not to their liking, well, he’s doomed.
“Warriors!” Scott calls. “One new fallen has joined us today! Dream Wastake, please rise!”
With shaking legs, Dream stands. Niki rises as well and places one hand on his shoulder for support. He leans in slightly and watches, entire body trembling with nerves, as a ring of holographic screens form around the trunk of the tree.
The video begins to play. The camera seems to be high in the air, presumably on Niki’s shoulder. It’s aimed at the bridge below, where a giant wolf with glowing blue wisps in its fur stands, hackles raised and growling angrily. Pedestrians scream and run every which way, trying to get off the bridge, while others stand frozen in fear. Only one person seems unafraid- a boy with golden curls and vivid emerald green eyes.
Dream watches as his past self draws his battle-axe and charges at the wolf. Past-Dream dodges its claws as it lunges and swipes at it, leaving a deep gash across its side. It growls and returns the favor by slashing his leg. He stumbles but stays steady, eyes focused on the wolf.
It snarls and lunges again. This time, Past-Dream drops the axe and begins to transform. His body shimmers and twists, turning into that of a Great Pyrenees. Now as a dog, Past-Dream leaps forward and sinks his teeth into the wolf’s shoulder blade, leaving a deep bite mark that oozes blood.
The wolf howls with anger and twists away. Its mouth darts forward, and its fangs dig into Past-Dream’s neck. With a yelp of pain, Past-Dream transforms back into a human and stumbles backward, bleeding heavily from 3 puncture wounds on his neck. He fumbles for his battle axe and, as the wolf charges, thrusts the blade of the axe into the beast’s rib cage.
The entire hall gasps. Dream winces as his past self collapses, choking on blood. The wolf whines and begins to keen, bleeding from the fatal wound on its chest. Before its life is snuffed out, however, it makes one last move. It lunges forward, and its paws slam into Past-Dream’s chest, sending them both tumbling over the edge of the bridge and landing in the river below with a great splash.
The camera swoops closer. Niki’s hand appears in the frame and reaches into the river, where Dream’s body is slowly sinking. It begins to glow, and a shimmering golden version of Dream emerges. The apparition takes Niki’s hand, and then the video ends.
Silence. Dream’s heart is beating so hard in his chest that’s he’s sure everyone can hear it. Did he pass? Have the thanes decided him worthy? Or is Niki about to be punished?
Suddenly, the entire hall ruptures into thunderous applause. Einherji rise from their tables, cheering and whooping. Through the blood pounding in his ears, Dream hears someone yell, “Wicked quick, that one is!” Another person shouts, “Never seen someone so young take down a fully-grown wolf with such ease!”
“Silence!” Scott yells. When the hall quiets down once more, the manager announces, “Dream Wastake showed tremendous bravery in the face of a fearsome enemy. He managed to defeat it and protected dozens of innocent civilians. We hereby declare him worthy of Valhalla!”
Dream’s legs shake so hard he almost falls over. Niki catches him before he hits the ground and steadies him. “Woah there,” she murmurs. “It’s okay. You passed! See, I told you there was no need to worry.”
“Yeah,” Dream laughs shakily. He straightens up, his heartbeat calming. He did it. He passed. He’s officially an einherjar now.
“Dream Wastake, do you know your parentage?” Scott asks.
Dream glances at Niki, who nods supportively. “I- I think my father is Loki,” he says, trying to make his voice loud.
Scott nods calmly. “But you are not sure?”
“Not 100%, no.”
“Then we will seek wisdom from the runes.” Scott gestures to the fire pit. A hooded lady with a stooped posture shuffles forward. She pulls a handful of stones from a leather pouch and throws them to the ground.
“A vala ,” Niki murmurs to Dream. “A seer who can do many things, including reading the future.”
Dream nods. He watches as the symbols and marks on the stones- runes, maybe?- begin to glow. A few in particular seem to catch the attention of the thanes at the head table.
The holographic screens project the runes’ image. Dream has no clue what they mean, but a murmur ripples through everyone in the hall. He can’t tell whether it’s a positive or negative reaction.
“Dream Wastake, it appears that you are correct,” Scott announces. “Your father is Loki, god of mischief and magic. The runes predict that you will fight bravely in Ragnarok. And someday, you will rise to the thanes’ table.”
Everyone claps appreciatively, although Dream still hears a few murmurs. Still, it’s a mostly positive reaction, and he’ll take whatever he can get. He lowers himself into his seat, only to get back up as the other einherjar begin to rise. “Is dinner over?”
Niki nods. “Yes. It always ends with the viewing of the videos. Since you are the only one, the feast is over. Do you want to return to your suite? You must be tired.”
“Yes, please,” Dream says gratefully. “Actually, I think I can find my own way back.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright. I will go, then, but I’ll come back soon to check in.” Niki gives Dream’s shoulder a quick squeeze before shooting into the air and flying away.
Dream manages to get back to the elevator with only a little bit of difficulty. He takes it up to Floor 19, where he disembarks. He navigates the many hallways until he reaches the corridor where his suite is located. Using the dagaz rune, he enters.
He stumbles into his bedroom, exhausted. There’s a set of pajamas on the bed, which he throws on. He’s about to crawl under the covers and go to sleep when he pauses.
What if he sleeps in the atrium, under the leaves of the oak tree?
The idea is a lot more appealing than sleeping in the bed, as comfortable as it looks. So he grabs the small blob plush and goes back to the atrium. He clambers up the tree, finds a nice, wide, comfortable branch, and lies down on his back. He hugs the blob to his chest and closes his eyes.
Within minutes, he’s fast asleep.
---
The next morning, Dream wakes up with a sore back but otherwise feeling great. After almost falling out of the tree, he lowers himself down to the ground and walks to the bathroom. He takes a nice, hot shower, runs a comb through his hair, and dashes back to the bedroom to get dressed. The wardrobe is filled with clothes, all his style. He puts on a lime green hoodie and some jeans, attaches his battle axe to his belt, and heads out of his suite to look for some breakfast.
As soon as he steps out of the door, he spots a note on the ground. He picks it up, surprised to see that it’s addressed to him. In neat, loopy handwriting, it reads:
Hi, new neighbor!
Come join us in lounge 19 for breakfast. It’s down the hall and to the right. Bring your weapons and armor as well. We’ll eat and talk about anything you might be confused about.
Sincerely, your new neighbors
Dream frowns thoughtfully. Should he go? He might as well in order to get to know his hallmates better. So he tucks the note into his pocket and follows its instructions to get to lounge 19.
It turns out to be a cozy room, definitely not as big as the main feast hall, but spacious nonetheless. A fire roared in a fireplace in the corner. About a dozen tables, all unoccupied except for one, are scattered around the room. Along the right wall, a long table is heaped with every type of breakfast food imaginable.
Sitting at the single occupied table are 5 people who Dream assumes are his hallmates. There’s an extremely tall dude with green hair and muscular arms. There’s a shorter, but still tall, guy wearing a black hoodie. Next to him is a boy with black hair and fiery eyes. Finally, there’s two shorter boys, both with brown hair. All look to be about Dream’s age.
“There he is,” the boy with the hood calls, smiling and waving. “Come, have a seat!”
“Okay.” Dream sits down between the fiery-eyed boy and one of the brown-haired boys. “Um, hello.”
The green-haired dude smiles kindly. “Hello! You made quite the impression last night.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“‘Course it is,” the fiery-eyed boy says, licking sugar off of his fingers. “Your fight with the wolf was epic. You’re gonna do good on the battlefield.”
“Guys, introductions first!” the boy who’d first spoken scolds. “I’m Bad.”
“Sam,” green-haired dude says.
“George,” the boy on Dream’s right says. He reaches around Dream and pokes the other boy. “This idiot is Sapnap.”
“Hey!” Sapnap yelps, slapping George’s hand away.
“I’m Ant,” the other brown-haired boy says, smiling softly. “Welcome to Valhalla, Dream.”
“Thanks.” Dream surveys the food scattered across the table before choosing a croissant. “How old are you guys?”
“We’re all teens,” Sam says. “Sap’s the youngest. He’s 15. Bad’s the oldest- 18. The rest of us are 16 or 17.”
“Cool. So you’re my age.”
Ant nods. “That’s how it works. Different floors are for different ages. All the older einherji are on the upper floors, while the younger ones are on the lower floors.”
“Oh, okay.” Dream hesitates briefly before asking, “How long have you guys been here?”
“Oh, that’s a hard question,” Bad says. “It’s been a while, but I think 2 or 3 years.”
“Same for me,” George says, buttering some toast with a dagger.
“About a year for me,” Sapnap says.
“6 months,” Ant says.
“2 months,” is Sam’s reply. “It may seem tough at first, but time starts to fly by really fast. The trick is keeping busy so you don’t go insane.”
“You can go insane?” Dream asks worriedly.
Bad hums. “Yeah. I mean, think about it. You have to wait for who knows how long for Ragnarok. If you don’t keep yourself occupied, you start to slip away. A lot of the older residents do. They lock themselves away in their suites and never come out again.”
“Oh. That’s… scary.”
Sapnap pats Dream’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Like Sam said, as long as you keep busy, you’ll be fine. There’s plenty to do. I’m learning Ancient Greek right now.”
“That’s enough about us, though,” George says, leaning in. “What about you, Dream?”
“You’re a son of Loki, right?” Ant asks. When Dream tenses, the brunette laughs. “Don’t worry, we all think it’s cool.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Dream relaxes and takes a bite of his croissant. “I think it’s cool too. I can shapeshift.”
“Can you do a cat?” Sapnap demands.
“I think so.”
“Do it,” Sam says, grinning. “Ant loves cats. He’s a furry.”
“I am not,” Ant protests. “Last time I checked, Velvet isn’t a cat.”
“Ant’s cakesexual,” George giggles. “He likes to have sex with cake.”
“Language!” Bad yelps.
Dream laughs as the 5 break down into arguments. He decides that he likes them and their chaotic vibes. Maybe they can be his friends and help him adjust to life at Valhalla.
“Guys, please,” Bad groans as Sapnap and Ant argue about furries. “I’m sure Dream has a lot of questions that we can answer for him.”
“I do,” Dream agrees. “Do we really have to do battles?”
Sam nods. “Yup. Don’t worry, you get used to it. Today might be a bit rough, but you’ll adjust.”
“He’ll probably do really good, though,” Sapnap argues. “Like, he can shapeshift! That’s OP!”
“Shapeshifting’s not going to do me much good if I’m fighting, like, a dragon,” Dream points out as he reaches for a muffin.
“Well, lucky for you, Thursday is dragon day, and today is Tuesday,” Ant says. “No dragons yet.”
“What’s today?”
“Free for all,” George replies. “Wednesday is siege day. Thursdays have dragons. Monday and Friday are free for alls too.”
Dream nods slowly, filing the new information away in his brain. “So… just to clarify, if I die, I’ll respawn, right?”
“Yeah,” Bad says. “How long it takes you depends on your body. Ant always resurrects the fastest ‘cause of his parentage.”
“What do you mean?”
“My father is Frey,” Ant explains. “I heal really quickly, and I can also heal other people. It usually only takes me an hour or so to resurrect, depending on how I died. Decapitation takes the longest.”
“Oh. That sounds helpful.” Dream glances around at the others. “Are the rest of you guys demigods too?”
“Sam and I aren’t,” George says. He jerks his thumb at Sapnap and Bad. “Those two are.”
“I’m a son of Heimdall,” Bad says. “I can see really far and hear really well, but that’s about it.”
“My dad’s Tyr,” Sapnap says proudly. Then he frowns. “I actually can’t really do anything cool. All it means is that I can’t back away from a fight. I’m a good fighter, though, so it’s okay.”
Just then, a horn sounds. Everyone abandons their breakfast and stands up. “Battle time,” Sam says, stretching. “Ready to fight, Dream?”
“Not really,” Dream admits, but he gets up anyways. “Should I have armor?”
Bad shakes his head. “It’s not a requirement. Some people like it. Others don’t. You do what will help you fight the best.”
“Okay then.” Dream pats his axe and decides not to wear any armor. He has a feeling that doing so would weigh him down, and he’s at his best when he can move around freely.
He follows the others through the hallways, down flights of stairs he hadn’t known existed and out into the battlefield. Like the rest of the hotel, it’s huge, more of a miniature country than a battlefield. With rolling hills and a winding river, complete with a few fake villages, it’s the perfect place to duke it out with your fellow einherji and get killed in various ways.
“Well, here we are,” Sapnap says, drawing a sword.
Dream’s hands shake slightly as he watches warriors pour in from the hundreds of doors lining the walls of the battlefield. “Um, are we up against all of these guys?”
Ant nods. “Yup. We fight together, as a group. We protect each other’s backs. Of course, you’ll probably still die, but we’ll defend you as best we can.” He pulls out a sword similar to Sapnap’s. Bad and George both draw sharp daggers, while Sam pulls out…
“Is that a trident?” Dream asks, staring at the forklike weapon.
Sam flashes a smirk. “Yep. Seems like an odd choice of weapon at first, but it’s done me wonders on the battlefield. It’s enchanted, too. When I throw it, it returns to me.”
“Let’s go!” Sapnap yells. He raises his sword and charges into the melee. With only a slight bit of hesitation, Dream follows.
Despite it being only a few minutes into the battle, the ground is already covered with blood. Dream slips more than a few times as he wades into the fight, Bad and Sam at his sides, George and Ant behind him, and Sapnap leading the way. Occasionally an einherjar will attack them, but they’ll quickly be dispatched by Sam’s trident to their chest or Sapnap’s sword slicing their head off.
After a while, though, things start to get more hairy. George is quickly taken down by an arrow. It pierces him straight through the head, and he collapses without a word. Dream doesn’t even have time to feel shocked because Sapnap is tugging him forward, eyes glinting with bloodthirstiness.
Ant falls next as a warrior appears out of nowhere and stabs a dagger through his chest. Then it’s Sam, killed by a sword to the stomach. Bad is decapitated by a shirtless warrior wielding a battle axe, and then it’s just Dream and Sapnap left.
“C’mon, Dream, we got this!” Sapnap roars. The ravenette charges at a nearby einherjar , sword held high above his head and a battle cry escaping his lips. Dream winces as Sapnap attempts to stab the warrior, only to get picked up and thrown across the river. Now it’s just him, alone against hundreds of buff einherji .
He tries to slip past everyone, but it’s as if all the attention has suddenly turned to him. Which, to be fair, he should’ve expected- he is the newcomer, after all. That doesn’t stop panic from rising in his chest as warriors surge at him from all angles, weapons raised.
Trapped in a situation where doing almost anything will result in death, Dream is left with no choice but to use the best trick he has up his sleeve: his shapeshifting. He tosses his axe down and closes his eyes, imagining himself shrinking down to four paws. His whole body tingles, and when he opens his eyes, he’s a small fox standing at the level of the einherji ’s ankles.
Without wasting a second, he snatches up the handle of his axe in his mouth and runs. His small, slender body allows him to slip through the tangle of legs with ease. Tail flicking and feet pounding against the ground, he dashes forward, weaving around ankles and dodging the blades that thunk into the earth all around him. Shouts of “get him!” fill the air, fueling him to run faster.
He reaches the bank of the river. Without pausing to think, he tosses his axe into the rushing water and jumps in. Middair, he wills his body to change again, and when he hits the water, it’s as a dolphin. The current is fierce, but now he’s armed with a tail and flippers, allowing him to battle it with ease. Using his tail, he flips his axe out of the water and onto the far bank, which is far emptier than the other one. Then he swims over there himself and throws himself onto the ground, where he transforms back to human.
Dream snatches up his axe and prepares to run again. Before he can, however, a force knocks him back. He hits the ground with a grunt, his axe slipping out of his grip. His right arm stings with pain, and when he looks down at it, he can see that the hairs are singed black, as if they’d been burned.
He grabs his axe and scrambles back to his feet. The spot where he’d been is devoid of grass, and the earth is charred black. It’s like there had been a fire, but a small one, contained only within that small circle, and that doesn’t make any sense. It almost as if that spot had been…
… struck by lightning.
A teenage boy, no older than Dream, steps into the charred circle. He’s tall and muscular, with long pink hair spilling down his back. His eyes are blood red, and his face is composed of sharp, angular lines. In his right hand he grips the hilt of a sword, its point tilted down at the ground.
He glares at the einherji that have been creeping closer. “Step back,” he orders, and his voice is the deepest thing Dream has ever heard. “The newbie is mine.”
Dream tenses as his flight or fight response kicks in. He glances around to see that he’s surrounded by einherji on all sides. They haven’t advanced closer, but if he makes a run for it, they’ll get him for sure. Which leaves him with only one option: fight.
The pink-haired boy raises his sword and charges. Dream leaps nimbly out of the way and attempts to slice at his opponent’s leg. A sword blocks his axe blade, then thrusts at his chest. Yelping, he barely manages to dodge and roll away.
“Slippery,” the boy comments. He raises his sword into the air and shouts something in an unfamiliar language. The sky rumbles, and Dream barely manages to realize, He’s summoning lightning . He thrusts his axe blade over his head just in time to block a lightning strike.
The boy’s elegant eyebrows arch. “Coward,” he says. “Hidin’ behind your blade.”
A spark of anger ignites in Dream’s chest. He gets to his feet and glares at the boy. “You want a fight?” he challenges. “Then you’ll get a fight.” He grips his axe tightly and charges.
The boy blocks his first swing, but with a speed he hadn’t known he had, he vaults into his opponent’s blind spot and strikes again. This time, his axe blade bites into the boy’s calf. The boy lets out a hiss of pain, whirls around, and begins to attack with a newfound ferocity. His sword flashes through the air at lightning speed, but Dream manages to block or dodge every time.
Their fight becomes more of an intricate dance as they dodge and weave around each other, blades clashing with angry sparks. Their eyes lock and never look away- ruby red on emerald green. And Dream can’t help but think that they make a perfect pair. Every time one of them lands a hit, the other strikes back. The boy’s sword leaves a gash in his left arm. His axe cuts into the boy’s side. And repeat.
But Dream is so caught up in the fight that he forgets about the lightning. And by the time he remembers, it’s too late. A lightning strike throws him back and sends him crashing to the ground. His axe flies out of his hand and lands several yards away. The boy stalks towards him, bleeding out of several wounds, favoring his left leg, but with a triumphant smirk on his face.
With a small gasp, Dream scrambles back. His whole body throbs with pain, and his own blood stains the ground below him. His axe is too far out of reach to help him now. He tries to transform, but he doesn’t have enough energy left. The only thing he can do is make his body twitch pathetically.
The pink haired boy towers over him. “You made a good opponent,” he says. “Haven’t fought someone who managed to draw my blood in years. But I’m afraid I must end it here.”
His sword comes plunging down, and Dream’s world goes dark.
---
When Dream wakes up, he’s lying on the bed in his suite. The covers have been tucked around him, and the blob plush is pressed against his side. For a long while, he just lies there, content to not move. But eventually, he drags himself up and stumbles to the wardrobe. He throws on some clothes and wanders out of his bedroom.
In the bathroom, he examines himself in the mirror. His face and hair are clean, and there’s not a single scratch or scar on his body. Better yet, he feels refreshed and ready to get killed again. This whole resurrection thing really is amazing , he muses silently. If only it worked like that in real life.
After quickly splashing water onto his face, he goes into the living room. A quick glance at the clock tells him that it’s 5 in the afternoon. He has some time to kill before dinner. So he grabs a book from the shelf, heads back to the atrium, clambers into the tree, and settles down to read.
At around 7, he goes down to the Feast Hall of the Slain for dinner. It’s easy for him to locate his hallmates due to Sam’s green hair, and he makes a beeline for their table. They greet him cheerfully and scoot aside to make a spot for him, which leaves a warm feeling in his chest.
“Hey, dude,” Sapnap says as Dream sits down. “How do you feel?”
“Pretty good, actually, considering how hard I got wrecked in the battle,” Dream replies, helping himself to some mashed potatoes.
“Actually, about that,” Sam says. “Practically the entire hotel is talking about that battle. Your reputation has skyrocketed, Dream. Everyone thinks you’re super cool.”
Dream frowns, confused. “Why? I died.”
Ant scoffs. “Everyone dies in their first battle. That’s not the important part. The important part is that you fought Techno Blade and almost won.”
“Techno?” Dream recalls the pink-haired boy with the blood red eyes. “Is that who I was fighting?” When his hallmates nod, he frowns even more. “Why would that make me super cool? He killed me!”
Bad shakes his head. “Dream, you don’t understand. Techno Blade’s only been here for, like, 6 years, but he’s pretty much the best warrior in the entirety of Hotel Valhalla. No one has ever beaten him in a fight, and the last time someone managed to draw his blood during battle was about 4 years ago. So for you, a newbie, to do the same thing on your first battle is pretty significant.”
“Oh.” Dream gazes around the feast hall and locates a head of pink hair. Techno Blade is sitting at a table with 3 other people and munching on a baked potato. He looks up, and his eyes lock with Dream’s. Something flashes briefly through his ruby irises, and then he’s returning to his food.
Sapnap claps Dream on the back. “You’ve made an enemy, dude. Last time someone almost beat Techno, he fought them on the battlefield every day until he finally defeated them for good.”
“C’mon, Sapnap, it wasn’t that extreme,” George says with a roll of his heterochromatic eyes. To Dream, he says, “I wouldn’t worry. You injured Techno pretty bad. He might be scared enough to not fight you again.”
“Let’s talk about something other than Techno,” Bad hastily says. “I heard you were shapeshifting, Dream.”
“A little, yeah,” Dream admits. “Just to escape. I did a fox, and then a dolphin.”
Sam whistles. “Nice. Wish I could shapeshift. I’d do a squirrel and hide in Ponk’s lemon tree to freak him out.”
“Ponk?”
“Sam’s boyfriend,” Ant explains. “He’s on the same hallway as my boyfriend, Velvet. Pretty much everyone our age is on Floor 19, give or take one or two floors.”
“Even Techno?”
“Yeah, him too,” Sapnap says. “He’s actually on a hallway right next to ours. You know that little intersection at the other end of our hallway? If you turn right you get to the lounge, but if you turn left you end up in Techno’s hallway. He has 3 hallmates, and they’re all insane.”
“Oh.” Dream glances at Techno Blade’s table again before looking back. “Can we talk about something else? This is kinda freaking me out.”
“‘Course,” Ant says kindly. “You wanna hear about how we all died? Some of us have pretty epic stories.”
“Sure,” Dream says, grinning. “I’ve been wondering how Sam managed to die with a trident.”
“It’s… complicated,” Sam mutters. “It was actually a salad fork, but it kinda got upgraded to a trident when I got here.”
Dream bursts out laughing. “A salad fork?” he wheezes, doubling over. “Why’d you have a salad fork???”
“Listen, it was the only weapon there! And how was I supposed to know that a murderer would come into the Asian buffet place?”
“ Asian buff-”
“Guys, I think Dream’s deflating. Should we do something?”
“Nah, if he dies, he’ll respawn.”
“Isn’t that… immoral?”
“This is Hotel Valhalla, Bad. Nothing is immoral here. Everything is a fine shade of gray.”
“Just like your mom after I rail her.”
“Hey! Sapnap!”
---
That night, Dream is relaxing in the tree again when there’s a knock on his door. He jumps down, wanders over, and opens the door, expecting to see one of his hallmates. Instead, Techno Blade stands in the doorway, pink hair pulled up into a bun and glasses perched on his nose.
“Um…” Dream squeaks, taking a small step back. “Hi?”
“Hallo,” Techno says, adjusting his glasses. “Can I come in? I just wanna talk.”
“Uh, sure.” Dream steps aside to let Techno in and closes the door. He follows the pinkette into the atrium.
“You have a nice suite,” Techno murmurs, staring up at the tree. “I like it.”
“Thanks.” Dream taps his foot nervously on the floor as Techno circles around the tree, admiring the leaves. “So… what do you want to talk about?”
Techno shrugs. “Just wanted to compliment you,” he says. “You were a real good opponent. Like I said, no one’s managed to draw my blood in years, and you did it. That shapeshiftin’ thing you did was pretty cool too.”
“Thank you,” Dream says, feeling a bit of his anxiety lift at the words. “You were a really good fighter, by the way.”
Techno shoots him a small, lopsided smile. “I know.”
“Wow, cocky,” Dream jokes. He comes closer to the tree and presses a palm against its rough bark. “So does this mean that I’m your mortal enemy now?”
“Did your hallmates tell you ‘bout that?”
“Yeah, they did.”
Techno chuckles, a deep sound that rumbles in his chest and is surprisingly pleasing to hear. “I will admit I’ve done that before. But don’t worry, I’m not goin’ to do that to you. You’re interestin’ to fight, and I’d rather keep a good opponent.”
“So we’re rivals now.”
“If you want to think of it like that.” Techno steps closer, his red eyes piercing into Dream’s in a way that makes Dream’s heartbeat quicken. “No actual rivalry outside of the battlefield, though. We can keep it friendly. Someone once told me that in Hotel Valhalla, actual rivalries never turn out well.”
Dream nods slowly. “I can see that. Alright, then. We can be battlefield rivals. I’m not sure I’ll be able to impress you again, though.”
“You don’t have to,” Techno murmurs. “Because you already have.”
Silence. Dream finds himself taking in Techno’s figure- his broad shoulders, his muscular chest, his handsome face. He gazes into those red eyes and realizes that they’re less like blood and more like… rubies. Beautiful, precious rubies that he could treasure forever if he so wanted to.
Does he want to?
“You’re a son of Thor,” Dream says after a moment, wanting to break the awkward silence..
Techno nods. “I am. Was it the lightnin’?”
“Yeah. Can you do anything else?”
“Not really. I’m a bit stronger than other demigods, except for the children of Odin. Those guys are really strong. And I can summon lightnin’, obviously, but that’s about it. How about you?”
Dream shrugs. “Just the shapeshifting.”
“Well, that’s pretty powerful.”
“I mean, I guess, but I doubt it’ll help me much when I’m fighting, like, a dragon.”
“Then I’m sure you’re goin’ to enjoy Thursdays.”
“Are we going to be fighting each other on Thursdays too?”
“Depends. Do you want us to?”
“Fighting dragons will probably be hard enough without you trying to kill me with lightning.”
Techno chuckles heartily and smiles. “Then maybe I’ll spare you on Thursdays. Keep in mind, though, that durin’ the rest of the week, you’re gettin’ wrecked.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Dream promises. And he means it. Despite the fact that the prospect of fighting Techno should be terrifying, he can’t deny the rush of adrenaline he’d felt earlier. Plus, it’ll keep battles interesting. And he’s never been one to walk away from a challenge. And maybe, just maybe, he wants to get to know Techno better. So he grins. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Techno.”
Techno’s smile changes into something softer and sweeter. “See you, nerd.”
---
Over the next few weeks, Dream falls into a schedule. In the mornings, he eats breakfast in the lounge with his friends/hallmates. During dinner, he sits with them at their usual table in the feast hall. After a few days of hanging around in his suite during his free time, he takes Bad’s advice and starts participating in hotel activities. He even begins learning Old Norse so he can understand the elevator music.
But the highlight of each day is the battle because it’s when Dream gets to fight Techno. The only exception is Thursdays, during which they usually ignore each other in favor of defeating the dragons. On other days, however, they always seek each other out on the battlefield and fight. Dream usually loses, but he doesn’t mind, not when his battles with Techno make him feel energized and happy and free.
Like Techno had said, it’s only a friendly rivalry. On the battlefield, they fight not for vengeance but for the thrill of clashing with a worthy opponent. After a while, though, things start to change- not in a bad way; quite the opposite, in fact. In a way that instead of friendly rivals, Dream and Techno become more of just… friends.
It starts with Dream coincidentally going to the same activity- crochet to the death- as Techno. After that, they begin to participate in activities with each other on purpose. And Dream likes it. Abstract painting to the death is a lot more fun when you have someone you know to flick deadly lead paint at, and he’s never laughed harder than when he witnesses Techno getting pronged in the head by a fork during Norwegian cooking to the death. Not even an hour later, he practically chokes to death while laughing over Techno’s dead body- killed by the math professor after he’d failed to comprehend quadratic equations.
The days pass in a busy but fun blur. Dream begins to hang out with Techno a lot more. They eat breakfast together, attend Old Norse classes together, and laugh at each other during various to-the-death activities. Techno teaches Dream how to use a sword. Dream teaches Techno how to climb trees. They even team up to prank their friends- Dream shapeshifts into a cat and stays like that for a whole day while Techno carries him around to confuse their hallmates.
It seems like a friendship, but there’s something more to it. After all, friends don’t make your heart flutter in your chest. Friends don’t make you blush when they smirk or laugh. Friends don’t make your skin tingle when they make brief physical contact. Friends don’t make you feel like you’re floating on clouds in heaven when you’re hanging out with them.
Something has changed between him and Techno. Dream’s just not sure what.
---
One night, Dream has a nightmare.
In the nightmare, he’s standing on the bridge where he died, his axe in his hand, the wolf growling at him. Just like what had actually happened. The wolf lunges, and he dodges and attacks back. Just like what had actually happened.
But then it changes. Dream’s axe is knocked out of his hand, and this time, he’s unable to get it back. He tries to shapeshift, but it feels like there’s a lock around his body, preventing him from changing, preventing him from being fluid. The wolf leaps again, and he’s helpless to stop it as its claws dig into his chest.
Pain erupts in his body. He screams. The wolf doesn’t stop. It tears at his flesh with its claws and teeth. Then, with a deep growl, it knocks him over the edge of the bridge. He falls into the river and sinks to the bottom. This time, though, there’s no Valkyrie to save him.
His lungs burn. He tries to swim up, but his limbs feel heavy and unable to move. He’s drowning, he can feel it, but he’s not dying either. Instead, he’s trapped in a state of agony, toeing the line between life and death, pain wracking every inch of his body as he tries to escape, whether to life or to death.
It hurts.
His eyes close.
And then he wakes up.
He shoots up in bed, panting heavily and covered with a thin film of sweat. Phantom pain grips his body as if the nightmare had been real. In a way, it sort of was.
Once his heartbeat and breathing have calmed down, he slips out of bed and creeps into the atrium. He climbs into the tree and settles down on a branch. However, not even the gentle swaying of the leaves above can soothe him back to sleep. After a while, he gives up, slides out of the trees, puts on some slippers, and leaves his suite.
He pads down the hallway, which is much quieter than usual in the middle of the night. He pauses in front of Sapnap’s door and considers knocking. Instead, he continues walking. Upon reaching the end of the hall, he takes a left and goes down the new corridor. He stops in front of one of the doors, raises his fist, and knocks.
After a moment, the door swings open, revealing a sleepy-looking Techno. “Dream?” the pinkette mumbles, yawning. “What are you doin’ here?”
Dream blushes, suddenly feeling very stupid for coming all the way to Techno’s door and guilty for waking the pinkette up. But it’s too late to go back now, and he has a feeling that if he lies, Techno will know.
“I had a nightmare,” he admits. “Can- can I come in?”
Techno blinks sleepily but nods. “‘Course.” He steps back, allowing Dream to enter the suite.
As far as layout goes, Techno’s suite is exactly the same as Dream’s- a central atrium with 3 hallways coming off of it. However, in terms of design, it’s completely different. While Dream’s atrium is styled like an indoor garden, Techno’s has been made to resemble a library. Tall bookshelves, reaching as high as the ceiling, line every free inch of the wall, with the only gaps being to make space for small fireplaces and ladders for reaching the higher shelves. Comfy-looking armchairs are scattered about, and there’s a large glass coffee table in the middle that’s covered with books.
“Woah,” Dream breathes, taking in the beautiful room. “This is…”
“Great, isn’t it?” Techno asks, his voice deeper and huskier than usual. “I love readin’.”
“I can see that,” Dream giggles, a little breathlessly. He reaches out and runs his fingers over the smooth wood of a nearby bookshelf. “How many of these books have you read?”
Techno shrugs, letting loose another yawn before replying, “I’d say ‘bout half. I don’t think I’ll ever finish readin’ them all, though, because I can swap ones I don’t like out for new ones. If I put a book on the coffee table, the staff know to take it away and put a new one in its place on the shelf. Valhalla’s cool like that.”
“Yeah,” Dream murmurs.
Techno flops down in an armchair and gestures for Dream to sit too. “So, you had a nightmare?”
Dream nods, pulling his knees up to his chest. “It wasn’t a super bad one, but now I can’t sleep.”
Techno hums sympathetically. “I see. What was it about?”
“The day I died, except worse.”
“Mm.” Techno gazes at Dream, an unfamiliar emotion twinkling in his ruby eyes. “Do you know how I died?”
“No. I guess I always assumed you died in, like, a super cool battle or something.”
Techno lets out a deep chuckle. “Good guess, but no. I died in an orphanage.”
“An… orphanage.” Dream stares at Techno, not sure if the pinkette is kidding or not. “Like, the place where they keep orphans?”
“Yup. I was on a school visit to an orphanage. One of the orphans, this little boy, was supposedly a strange kid. The owner of the orphanage said that he did a lot of weird things. I didn’t believe her, but I should’ve.”
“Why?”
“Well, about an hour in, me and a friend separated to go to the bathroom. We were walkin’ down the hall, mindin’ our own business, when the little boy appears. He was holdin’ somethin’ in his hand. It was a knife.”
Dream gasps, horrified. “What? Why did he have a knife?”
“Who knows? Maybe he stole one from the kitchen. Anyways, he attacked us. Was surprisingly strong for a little kid. I pushed my friend out of the way and wrestled with the kid for a bit. He managed to get me right here.” Techno presses a hand to his chest, right below his heart. “Hurt like hell. But I knew I had to keep fightin’ so my friend- who was the biggest pacifist I’d ever met- wouldn’t die. So in my final moments, I used my braid to choke the kid. We died together, me and the little boy.”
“Oh.” Dream swallows, not quite sure what to say. “I’m sorry. That sounds awful.”
Techno laughs softly. “I mean, not really. Sure, it hurt, but it was kinda a pathetic way to die. The point is, though, I have nightmares of that day a lot. I’ll dream about that kid standin’ over me, holdin’ a knife, grinnin’ like a maniac. So I don’t sleep a whole lot. I read instead.” He gestures at the thousands of books lining the shelves.
“Are you suggesting that we read together?”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggestin’.”
Dream blushes. “Okay. The armchairs are kinda small, though.”
Techno chuckles. “So are you, nerd.”
“Wha- I’m not small!”
“You’re 5’8. Not even George is that short.”
“I can still beat you in a fight.”
“Can you?”
Dream pouts, crossing his arms. “Yes, I can,” he snaps with no bite.
“You’re very cute when you’re angry, y’know.”
“Nooooo,” Dream whines. “Stop it, Techno.”
“Can’t stop the truth, Dream,” Techno teases. He scoots over until he’s pressed up against one side of the armchair and pats the space beside him. “C’mere. We can read together. Who’s your favorite author?”
“I have a lot. I like fantasy,” Dream says as he squishes himself into the space next to Techno. The pinkette is surprisingly warm, and Dream can’t help but snuggle close.
“Me too.” Techno grabs his sword, which is lying on the floor, and uses it to hook a book off of a shelf and bring it close. “Let’s do this one, then. It’s really good.”
“‘Mkay.” Without pausing to think, Dream rests his head on Techno’s shoulder. Immediately, he freezes, blushing when he realizes what he’d just done. To his surprise, though, Techno doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, the pinkette tucks his chin into Dream’s hair as he flips the book open and begins to read.
Time quickly flies by as Dream listens to Techno read. The pinkette’s voice is deep and calm, making him very soothing to listen to. And with each word, Dream feels himself relaxing further and further. It helps that Techno is extremely warm, and the armchair is extremely comfy, and the whole atrium smells pleasantly like firewood.
Soon, Dream’s eyelids begin to grow heavy. He yawns and snuggles even closer into Techno’s side. “Techie?” he murmurs.
“Yeah, Dream?” Techno’s voice is soft.
“I… I think I love you.”
He feels Techno stiffen slightly. “Are you sure?” the pinkette asks.
“Of course.” Dream shifts so he can look up at Techno’s face, more handsome than ever in the flickering light of the blazing fireplaces. “I think I always have.”
He watches a soft, sweet, beautiful smile spreads slowly across Techno’s face. “I think I’ve always loved you too, nerd,” he whispers. “Ever since I saw you on that battlefield, quick and nimble as a fox. You looked absolutely ethereal, and you still do.”
“You know that feeling of contentment you get when you’re curled up on a cold night with a mug of hot chocolate?” Dream murmurs, tracing shapes on Techno’s strong chest. “That’s what being with you feels like. And you know that fuzzy feeling you get when someone says something really nice to you? That’s what hearing you talk and laugh and seeing you smile feels like.”
Techno chuckles quietly. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Well, you deserve it.” Dream tucks himself closer to Techno’s warmth. “G’night, Techie. I love you.”
Before he drifts off to sleep, he feels a pair of warm lips brush his forehead. “Goodnight, Dream. I love you too.”