#listen there’s a connection between scars bed and the tree of wimsey I just know it

[dmwrites]

The Tree of Whimsy stood tall and proud in the surrounding forest of birch trees. Scar, a tree connoisseur, had finally found some time to come see it, and was delighted.

“Amazing! I mean, it’s not as good as my tree, but it’s a close second.” Scar gave Bdubs a winning smile and a wink.

“Ha ha. Very funny, elf man.” Bdubs chuckled. He was back from one of his long treks across the lands, looking for places for his puzzles, and had found Scar just standing at the base of the Tree of Whimsy. “So, what are you doing here anyway? Looking for inspiration?”

“Oh, no, little man, don’t you worry, I’m not here to plagiarize.” Scar reached out and touched the bark of the tree. “I was just curious about it, is all. Seems to have popped up out of nowhere. Very mysterious, you have to admit.”

“First of all, I’m not short I’m average height. Second of all, uh yeah, it’s a magical tree, whimsy and all that. Listen, I just do what I’m told, and I was told to plant a seed. You know, I’ve never told anyone, but I have a lot of questions about it all. I found a secret room under my house, and I have to wonder if it was the right choice to plant this tree. It haunts me.”

“You know what I wonder?” Scar, ignoring Bdubs completely, mused. “You see, I have an elven bed that makes you sleepy just by looking at it. I can’t tell you the amount of times I have stumbled upon someone who had been looking for me fast asleep on that bed. I’m wondering what would happen if you put the bed under this tree you have here. Clearly, they’re both full of mystical powers. It’s science, mashing two magical items together.”

“Maybe you’re just tired all the time from constantly building and being annoying, you ever consider that?” Bdubs, a bit miffed that Scar wasn’t listening to him.

“I think we need to test this. I’ll go get the bed and reconstruct it here.” Scar, not listening to him, went off to fetch the bed.

——

Scar wasn’t wrong though- Bdubs couldn’t stand to look at the bed while Scar constructed it or he would feel immense tiredness wash over him like a wave. He even had to go wake Scar up a few times while building it, with a hand over his eyes for safety.

“It’s just so comfy cozy, don’t you just wanna…” Scar let out a huge yawn. He nailed in a few more bits, and then it was done. “Oh, and look at that! Just in time for sunset! Come on, Bdubs, time for sleepy time!”

“What?” Bdubs turned around, holding out a hand to block the bed from his view. “I am not getting into bed with you!”

“Oh, come on.” Scar was already climbing onto the cozy mattress. “Don’t be such a prude. You’ll be asleep in like three seconds.”

The bed was calling to him. Oh, the king of sleep, how could he refuse such a comfy looking bed? He sighed and clambered in next to Scar. “If anyone sees us from the sky, we’ll be the laughing stock of the town for months.” His eyes were already fluttering closed.

“Two bros, chillin’ on a big bed, five feet apart-” Scar began to sing, but they both fell asleep before he could finish.

There is something to be said about the tree of whimsey, the way it whispers in the wind. And it’s something else to have Scar’s bed under it, built from a cursed wood. The hermits like to play with forces bigger then themselves, over and over until one of them breaks. Little fucked up experiments that make you wonder just how they have kept their minds over the years.

Bdubs dreamed of the tree. It was made of tiny intricate mazes and puzzles, and it leered over him. He dreamed of moss, soft to the touch, and yet the tree almost doubled to grab at him. He dreamed of a wooden throne, one that was made of the tree and had every limb tied down to it. But he was king. And the little ants played his games. But they weren’t really his games.

Scar dreamed of something just out of reach. It was in the mist, and he could hear it, hear the screams he hoped were happy, the thunder of the ride tracks. He could almost smell the perfume of the trees and flowers, and the laughter of his friends. If only he could see the joy. But he couldn’t, and something inside him told him he never would.

The two woke in the morning as the sun rose. xB was standing over them, communicator out, taking a picture.

“I’m sending this to the hermit groupchat. You can’t stop me.” xB told them with a wicked grin, and took off.

“Damn him.” Bdubs muttered, getting out of the bed, taking off his sleeping cap and running his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. He always had the worst bed head.

Scar yawned and stretched, looking as perfect and put together as when he went to sleep. Not a single hair was out of place.

“How did you sleep?” Bdubs asked, sitting down on a bench facing away from the bed.

“Good, good, how about you?” Scar wheeled himself over.

“Good… any, uh, stuff happen?” Bdubs picked at a fingernail.

“Nope.” Scar was lying.

“Same here.” Bdubs was also lying.

They both knew the other was lying. But the uneasy feelings they both had were too dark to express out loud. Their dreams clung to them like some kind of muddy pond water, something that can’t be cleaned out or forgotten about.