Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur had stopped paying attention to Techno’s endeavors long ago. Royal business was so boring, he couldn’t help it. The pier was bustling with life and activity and they had to talk to incoming merchants? He knew he was supposed to act like model royalty, but today it was particularly hard.

Over the bustle and chatter of ships being harbored and deals being made, Wilbur heard something that didn’t quite fit in. He slipped away from Techno, following his curiosity, and as he got closer, concern. That was the sound of someone crying. In particular, a small child. There was no part of him that could ignore that.

He found, hiding behind a group of barrels, a small boy. He had a shock of orange hair and fox ears and a tail. Wilbur had never seen him before, and he was fairly certain he’d remember if he had. He knelt to the ground, partially hidden behind the barrels. The boy had his knees pulled to his chest, hiding his face as he cried.

Wilbur cleared his throat, jumping a bit when the boy’s head snapped up to look at him. His eyes were wide and watery, and he hurried to scrub at his face and wipe the tears away. Wilbur greeted softly, “Ah, hello. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s-It’s okay,” the boy mumbled, shaking his head.

“Alright, if you say so. Are you lost?” Wilbur asked, tilting his head. “I can help you, if you’d like.”

The boy nodded, sniffling and rubbing the last of his tears from his eyes. “I-I lost my mom and-and I forgot where the ship was anchored, so… I couldn’t go back.”

“Well, then let's find her, shall we?” Wilbur suggested, offering up a hand.

The boy nodded, hesitantly linking his fingers with Wilbur. He helped the boy to his feet, keeping a solid hold of his hand. He stuck close to Wilbur’s side as he guided them out into the crowd, and Wilbur could feel his heart melt.

“My name’s Wilbur, by the way. Would you mind telling me yours?”

“Oh, uh… Fundy.”

“Alright, Fundy, we’re going to find your mother quick, then neither of you will have to worry.”

-

Living in the castle was strange. At least, to Fundy it was. People treated him with a respect he didn’t really feel like he deserved. Technically, he was some kind of royalty. He wasn’t by blood, and he’d never have the type of power real royalty did, but… he was Wilbur’s son. Technically. Wilbur had always been the closest to a father he’d ever had. Then he’d been adopted and it was official.

He remembered his mother. He’d travelled with her on the seas ever since he was a baby. Sally was a pirate of legend. The shapeshifting-swashbuckler terrorized the high seas and constantly avoided being taken in for any crimes anyone had managed to find a way to take her in for. Her crew helped raise him as much as she did. Fundy was familiar with pirate life. He knew the boons and the treasure, the risk and the danger. It was all he had left of his mother.

They’d stopped in the castle city’s port multiple times, but ever since one fateful afternoon, they ended up stopping there even more. Fundy had gotten separated from his mother in the bustling crowd and ended up being found by Wilbur. He helped Fundy find his mother’s ship and returned him home, and though he didn’t notice it at the time, Wilbur and Sally instantly had a connection. They bounced off each other like it was second nature. The prince was young, and the pirate captain years older, so the furthest they ever got was close friends.

Fundy always followed his mom into the pier, spending a day just to stop at the shops and get his favorite treats or a new toy. These stops suddenly started to include Wilbur, and Fundy couldn’t say he was disappointed. Wilbur was kind, friendly in a way that was much different than a pirate’s crew. He brought Fundy gifts when they came into port and played him songs on his guitar. He played with him and kept him company when his mother and her crewmates were busy. He liked Wilbur. He never had a father, but he assumed that their relationship was what it was like.

He was lucky, he knew that. Being the son of a pirate on the high seas, his life had taken a turn for the worse inevitably, but he had someone to fall back on. Someone who would take him in and care for him like he really was his father. Sally the Shapeshifting Swashbuckler was no longer with them, but Wilbur, Prince of the Antarctic Empire, was.

-

Wilbur hadn’t slept in roughly thirty five and a half hours. Well, he hadn’t slept well. He’d rested fitfully for short periods of time. The most he’d gotten was last night, curled up against Tommy’s side in an attempt to keep him calm. The attack on the castle city’s harbor started thirty of those hours ago. That meant Wilbur and Tommy had been confined to the castle for thirty hours, left only to hope and wish Phil and Techno would return home okay. Tommy’d never been so close to the conflict before, and Wilbur wasn’t about to leave him alone.

He almost wished he could though. Almost. Sally’s ship had come into harbor two days earlier. Two days. He’d seen her and Fundy just before. The day before the raid on the harbor started, Wilbur walked the city streets with them. He’d shown Fundy his new song. He’d talked to Sally about their adventures while her son slept on his lap. He departed for the castle while the sun was setting, waving from the docks at the pirate captain and her son who watched him leave from the deck of the ship. Everything was fine then. He forgot how fast things could go horribly wrong.

As soon as Techno and Phil returned to the castle and Wilbur was sure things were over, he left. He practically sprinted all the way from the castle to the harbor. He ignored the waves of injured and the dead and the wreckage he passed. He had one thing to make sure of. He had two people he needed to see. A friend and her boy who was as much his son as he was hers.

Wilbur’s heart jumped to his throat as he came to a stop. The harbor was a wreck. Half of the ships in port were destroyed or damaged. Soldiers pilfered the rubble or helped their injured comrades away from the field. Wilbur scanned the docks, feeling the world crumble around him as his eyes landed on Sally’s ship. It was in ruins, half sunk into the water. Some soldiers were trying to salvage what they could, but Wilbur didn’t see much left. His legs moved before he thought to, taking off at a sprint towards the scene. There had to be survivors. There had to be.

He heard Fundy before he saw him. He’d heard that crying before, he knew what his boy sounded like. There was a soldier knelt in front of him trying to calm him down, but Wilbur could see the orange hair and fox ears past him. Fundy’s head poked around the soldier trying to talk to him and landed on Wilbur. His eyes widened, which seemed to prompt a fresh wave of tears from his eyes. He tumbled past the soldier, and Wilbur fell to his knees to take him in his arms and hold him tight.

“W-Wil-!” Fundy cried, putting all his weight on Wilbur and hiding his face in his chest.

“It's alright, shh, I’ve got you,” Wilbur whispered, rocking back and forth.

The soldier awkwardly cleared this throat, rising to his feet. He asked, “Do you know this boy, your Highness?”

“Yes, I do,” Wilbur clarified, raising his head to meet the soldier’s eyes. He was young, probably new to this whole thing. He looked relieved, unprepared to deal with a lost child in the remains of a battle. Wilbur thought he knew the answer, but forced himself to ask, “Were there any other survivors from this ship?”

“Ah… no, no there weren’t,” the soldier answered hesitantly. He hung his head slightly, muttering, “I’m sorry.”

Wilbur stared down at the cobblestones beneath them. No other survivors. Sally was gone. He could imagine it, her sacrificing herself to save her son. All that was left of her was the boy he held in his arms.

“It's… not your fault,” Wilbur replied after a moment. “Thank you for looking after him, I’ll take it from here.”

The soldier nodded, stepping back. “Of course, your Highness.”

He focused back on Fundy as the soldier left them alone. He was still sobbing into Wilbur’s chest, gripping his shirt like it was his last lifeline in this world. Wilbur pulled Fundy into his lap, holding him close with one arm. He brought his other hand up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. His face was dirty and there were scrapes and scuffs on his elbows and hands. He’d survived a battle he wasn’t meant to experience and lost everything in the crossfire. Life was cruel and unfair, and this moment had truly learned Wilbur to that truth.

“Mom-Mom’s gone?” Fundy hiccuped, watery eyes locked on Wilbur’s.

Wilbur couldn’t find the words. He hugged Fundy to his chest, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, Fundy. I-I wish I could’ve done more.”

“I-I’m scared, Wil,” Fundy mumbled, sniveling and clinging to Wilbur tighter. “Am I-Am I gonna be all alone?”

The boy’s voice cracked, and Wilbur’s heart broke. He planted a kiss on top of Fundy’s head. He felt the same pain the boy was feeling, the grief of it all. He and Sally had grown close over their talks and trips through the city. They were friends. Good friends. He couldn’t understand how it felt to lose a mother. An absent mother was still a living mother. And Fundy didn’t have that anymore. Fundy didn’t have any blood family anymore. That didn’t mean Wilbur couldn’t give him a different type of family.

“No, love,” Wilbur promised quietly, sitting Fundy up to tuck his head under his chin, “I’d never leave you alone.”

After that, he’d carried a sniffling, shaking Fundy back to the castle. The royal family welcomed a new member, and Wilbur officially had a son.

-

Fundy’s room was hidden away in one of the castle’s looming towers. It sat at the end of one of the halls, the same hall Wilbur and Tommy’s rooms were in. The ceiling went all the way up to the top of the spire, and Fundy loved it. There was a balcony covering the entire front of the tower, letting him see the entire town all the way to the sea. It was beautiful and magnificent… and Fundy always felt out of place when he stood at the railing and watched the sunset. He’d grown used to it over the years, the feeling of displacement that so often accompanied him. The castle was his home, it had been for the entire second half of his life, but he still remembered the first half. And that half was still a big part of him. He missed it sometimes, the adventuring and the sailing and the free life of pirates.

He missed his mom.

But, it wasn’t that bad anymore. It hurt less. He had a new family and friends that loved him. Wilbur held up on his promise that he’d never be alone. He had a home and a purpose. He had work to distract himself with when he didn’t want to think too hard. Sadly, he didn’t have any more work to do today, so it was just him and his thoughts this evening.

He was standing on the balcony of his room now, watching the sun set over the ocean. The feeling of not belonging returned recently. He was just shoved into this life. He had no real right to royalty, just Wilbur’s word and insistence. Which he appreciated, more than he could appreciate anything in the world, but he didn’t always feel like he deserved it. It was hard to make that feeling go away. But somehow, his dad had a sixth sense for knowing when he was upset, and Fundy’s theory was proved again tonight.

“How long have you been out here?” Wilbur asked behind him.

Fundy looked up, twisting to see Wilbur’s warm smile. He joined Fundy at the railing as he shrugged and answered, “Dunno… a while.”

“Is the sky so enamoring you just had to miss dinner, or is something else on your mind?” Wilbur questioned, resting his hands lazily on the banister and staring out over the city.

Fundy sighed. Why did Wilbur have to know him so well? Sometimes he wondered if all fathers were this way or if his was an exception.

“It’s nothing new,” Fundy mumbled, resting his chin in his hand. “Just feeling out of place again… no big deal…”

He cast his gaze to the courtyard below them. He didn’t want to meet Wilbur’s gaze when he could feel his eyes boring holes in the back of his head. His tail flicked back and forth uncomfortably. He should’ve lied, should’ve just kept his mouth shut so he didn’t have to feel how concerned Wilbur was coming off him in waves.

“You know people accept you here,” Wilbur told him, hands grasping the railing tighter. “No one thinks that you shouldn’t be here.”

“I-I know, you’re right, it’s just… I’m not really royalty, y’know? What-What did I do to deserve all this?” Fundy’s voice shook as he stood straight, opening his arms in a general gesture.

A hand on his cheek made him look up and meet Wilbur’s eyes. He looked sad, hurt on his behalf. He said, “Be my son. That’s all you had to do to deserve this. We might not share blood, but that doesn’t change a single thing. You’re still my son, no matter what.”

Fundy slumped, leaning into the touch. He held his arm in one hand and averted his gaze to his feet. He couldn’t look Wilbur in the eye when he made him feel so hurt.

“I-I still- Do you still miss her? Sometimes?” Fundy asked helplessly, glancing shyly upwards.

It was Wilbur’s turn to melt. He pulled Fundy into a hug, tucking his head under his chin like when he was a boy. He heard Wilbur’s shaky inhale in his chest, felt it rumble when he spoke.

“Of course I do,” Wilbur admitted quietly. “I wish she could be here for so many reasons. Mostly so she could see what a wonderful man her son’s become.” Fundy’s breath hitched. He dug his fingers a bit tighter into the back of his dad’s shirt. Wilbur continued softly, “You make me so proud everyday, Fundy. Every single day. You’ve come so far and I’m so happy to have such an amazing son.”

Fundy blinked fiercely into Wilbur’s shirt collar, ignoring as it dampened slightly. His voice was tight, trying to repress his emotions as much as he could, “She’d be proud of me, right? Here in the castle and-and not out there?”

“No matter what you chose to do, as long as it was your decision, she’d be happy. She’d be proud,” Wilbur assured. He pulled away, just enough to cup Fundy’s cheek in his hand. His eyes were watery, probably mirroring Fundy’s own. He tilted his head to the side and ran his thumb across Fundy’s cheek. “You take after your father more in that regard. Less of a fighter than she was, but still a troublemaker nonetheless.”

A chuckle bubbled out of Fundy. He wiped a few tears from his eyes before collapsing against Wil’s chest again. His dad easily slipped back into the position they had before, chin resting on his head. Fundy would never feel as safe as he did then, wrapped in his father’s embrace.

“Everybody always looked at me strange when they heard me call you ‘dad’ for the first time,” he remarked lightly.

Wilbur chuckled, scratching his fingers along Fundy’s back. “They did. They always looked like they expected me to tell you off or something, like you were a random kid spouting nonsense, but no, I just introduced them to my lovely son.”

“I don’t understand how you were never embarrassed by me or anything,” Fundy mumbled. “I always ran in on important meetings and councils and stuff, being loud and causing problems for whoever was supposed to be watching me.”

“It was part of your charm. Not even Scott could stay mad when you slipped away from him. Besides, I could never deny my sunshine from wanting to see me.”

“Ugh, you make it sound even more embarrassing.”

Fundy wouldn’t admit he was smiling.

“You were adorable. And you still brighten my day every time I see you.”

Fundy had lost a lot of things in life, but one thing he’d never gone without was love. He was fortunate for it, extremely so. He knew people weren’t as lucky as him. Thanks to that fact, he knew how easy love was to give.

He took a breath and murmured at the end of the exhale, “I love you, Dad.”

Wilbur hugged him tighter and buried his face in his hair. There was a kiss planted on the top of his head, followed by a thick, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

That was another thing about his dad: he always knew how to make Fundy feel better. His sixth sense had a second part, which knew exactly what to say and when. Fundy admired him. He wanted to be like him, to be as understanding and kind and thoughtful when it mattered.

Wilbur leaned away from him to squeeze his shoulders. His smile was warm, and Fundy couldn’t help but match it.

He asked, “Do you want to go see her? I think it’s about time we gave her an update.”

Fundy nodded, taking a breath to clear the last of the shakiness from his voice. “Yeah, I would love to.”

-

There was a large oak tree in one of the castle courtyards. A path made by repeated footsteps led underneath its canopy to a small bed of flowers nestled in between its roots. A small, makeshift grave for a woman without a body to be buried sat there, visited only by her son and a good friend. Well past dusk, after the sun had set and the stars had come out, one could look from one of the castle windows or from on top of the walls and see a fox hybrid and his adoptive father, talking to the memory of the pirate legend and wonderful mother, Sally, the Shapeshifting Swashbuckler.