Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The start of the Antarctic Empire wasn’t exactly something you could put on a calendar. 

The beginning of it was slow, at first, a small community following Phil, who had stories and rumors swirling around him every moment, from his impossible achievement of defeating the dragon. Then it exploded and grew, turning into houses and towns, to hundreds, thousands of people flocking to the growing kingdom, which then grew into an empire, with their emperor protecting them and ruling over with a kind hand. 

From how the stories go, Phil is one of the many, too many, adventurers who went on the journey to the end, to find the stronghold, and step through the portal, to the beast that lies beyond. 

Unlike the hundreds before him, he succeeded in it all, going through the land, finding the stronghold that sat at the middle of a huge mountain, in the middle of a snowy, frozen biome, and he found the portal that sat deep in the stone, like so many before. 

And like the hundreds before him, he went in. But unlike the others who had failed, he came back. 

And he came back with wings upon his back, with a new unbelievable story, and with an unlocking of magic across the entire realm. 

When he came back, he had somehow opened a closed, locked door, which let in unknown possibilities, and with it, unknown threats. 

Potions and magic was something new, something that brought recovery and healing onto new levels. It made strides and it broke rules, saving so many and making certain illnesses a thing of the past. 

Monsters came at night. New creatures, dangerous and unknown. Kingdoms which used to stand tall, unyielding, they didn’t know how to fight it, and ended up falling into shambles, torn apart by the upbringing of a new era of a new world. 

People became lost, and while things were learned, and defenses were taught, many didn’t have anywhere to go, and didn’t have places to hide away at night. 

Then word broke out that the man who had killed the dragon himself, the man who set free these impossible possibilities into the world, had returned to the stronghold to protect the portal to the End. He had gone to protect the portal from others, to stop any more adventurers from venturing in, for he was determined for him to be the last one, for the cycle to stop. 

And when word of his location broke out, of his goal to protect that mountain, protect the stronghold, in the impossibly cold biome, so no more would have to die like so many did before, people went to him. 

At first, only small groups, setting up camp on the mountain, keeping their distance from Phil himself, but staying nearby, for the stories said that he protected the mountain, and if they stayed on the mountain, then they would be protected as well. 

Then those small groups grew into a small town, joined by others every other week. A small community popped up at the side of the mountain, buildings being made, and roads being put down. They stayed there in Phil’s supposed protection, and stories went out across the land of the beginnings of a new place, where it was safe. 

Cold, and new, but safe, under the watch of the person who slayed the dragon. And with that sort of appeal, it’s no wonder so many went along. 

Then one day, Phil came down from the top of the mountain, from the stronghold itself, to investigate the people who had created a home.

The town had grown, and it was busy and warm, a bustling town with stores and families, houses and music, art and writings, life was apparent wherever you went. 

Phil had walked through the streets with a cape over his wings, and a hood over his head, eyes observing and watching, and a smile on his face as he saw that people had flourished, under his protection. 

Truthfully, he didn’t even know they trusted him with their protection. He hadn’t even known they were there, before word got to him and he became curious. 

He had walked through those streets, he remembers, going up to a small stall at the corner of the street, someone handing out hot chocolate, kids and parents grabbing a cup, people lingering around, sitting in chair, on barrels, talking amongst themself and enjoying the nice environment, and the hot chocolate. 

Phil walked up to the same small stall, lowering his hood, rubbing his hands in the cold, looking to the woman who was giving out the drinks. 

“Hot chocolate?” Phil asked, grinning at the lady, raising his eyebrows. “It’s appropriate for the weather.” 

“It always is. The weather never seems to get warm around here.” She had responded, grabbing a cup for Phil, pouring some out. Glancing up to Phil, she slowed in her movements, taking a small double take, observing his face, his hair and eyes. 

Because stories of Phil had at least gotten some details right, those being of his hair being gold, and his eyes being a bright blue, always described as bright with hope. And the lady could only stare, looking over the cape that hid Phil’s back, staring at his blond hair pulled into a small ponytail. 

Phil didn’t notice, only gazed up and down the street, to the people hanging around, laughing and passing stories. By the time he looked back to her, she was holding the cup in front of her, frozen, eyes wide in disbelief, because his eyes were bright blue, as they always were. 

“Oh, it never gets warm. It’s like this even during the summer.” Phil said, taking the cup from her, giving a grateful nod. “You get used to the cold.” 

“You-” Phil took a sip from his drink, about to turn away, and the lady hit her palms against the table in front of her, leaning forward. 

“What’s under your cape?” She asked, loud enough to catch the attention of some, and people nudged each other, stopped their conversations, pointed to Phil. 

Phil paused, looking back to her, and noticing that the street slowly went quiet, eyes on him. 

“You’re him.” Someone said, and it wasn’t a question, but a hesitant statement. 

Phil smiled nervously, laughing a little and taking another sip from his cup, because now there were a lot of eyes on him, and he hadn’t really expected the awe and amazement that came along with it. 

“I’d thought I would come down.” Phil rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, the street silent, holding their breaths. “See how you all were doing.”

Then everyone was getting up, the place erupting in greetings and voices, loud and vibrant, people shaking Phil’s hand, patting him on the shoulders, keeping their distance and yet standing awfully close. 

Phil was stuck in the middle of a loud crowd, which only grew as the day went on, because the knowledge that Phil was in the town spread like wildfire, and it wasn’t long before everyone was looking for a glimpse of the man who made such a change in the world they knew.  

That was an exhausting day, talking with so many, walking around and being led around by friendly townspeople, and being given gift after gift, to the point where Phil had to stop and figure out how to carry the flowers, the bread, the letters and the drawings, because there was so much, and he only had a small satchel at his hip when he came down from the stronghold. 

And when night fell, no matter how much Phil insisted he was fine, he ended up with a free bed, and his own room in someone’s home, the floor littered with the gifts from the people. 

As Phil sat on the bed, his cape put to the side, wings shifting on his back as he stared at how much there was, he could only wonder as to how they adored him so much when he had done so little. 

“We’re your people, you know.” The lady who had given him the room said, an old woman with age in her features, her eyes holding so much. She stood by the doorway, small and worn with her years, but kind, and as her eyes glanced to the wings on Phil’s back, she smiled.

“My-” Phil shook his head, looking away from the gifts on the ground. “W-what?”

“That’s what the town thinks. You protect the mountain, don’t you? The portal.” She shrugs, leaning a hand onto the doorway. 

“I-” Phil thinks of the End, of how empty the place was, how the dragon had flown over his head, roaring so loud that it rang in his ears, and how he ran for cover, gasping and wondering if this was the reason others never came back- “Yes. I do.”

“Then we are a part of it. That’s why we’re here, after all. We think of you as protection.” 

“Oh.” Phil holds his hands to his heart, looking back down at the gifts, at the pile of letters at his feet, the flowers and food, drinks, little pieces of art, all from the people in this small town, his town, apparently. 

“I have a gift for you as well.” She said, walking off as Phil insisted it wasn’t necessary, that really, this room was more than enough-

But she came back anyway with a thin silver crown in her hands, and Phil didn’t say another word as she put it on his head. 

If they were his people, then what was he? 

Personally, in Phil’s opinion, that was when the Antarctic Empire really started. With a frail old woman gifting him a simple silver crown, as he sat surrounded by the gifts of his people. 

“Thank you.” Phil said, and she only nodded, looking at Phil with a new sort of respect. 

“You’re young. And you’re full of potential. But you’re a good man.” She said, Phil nodding back. He was only 24, at that time, and he had the achievement of getting past the dragon, of releasing magic into the world, and making a safe place for others to escape to. “I think, it’s about time you start realizing what there is.”

Phil looks to the pile of letters at his feet, and nods. She knows that he understands.

The next day, as Phil walks around with his wings out, a small crown upon his head, someone suggests building a castle at the top of the mountain, where he lives. 

He agrees, and with that agreement, he also agrees to so much more.

---

The town really grows then, as construction starts up on the castle. More and more people flock to the cold biome, as stories travel around of a new kingdom, ruled by the man who defeated the End. 

Soon, the single town that Phil had visited only a while ago turns into a city, communities and streets built around the base of the mountain, covering the terrain with life and construction. 

Soon, as the building of Phil’s castle is done, tall, strong and full of people loyal to him, the cities have grown in a kingdom, and towns are named, stories are passed, and Phil is declared the ruler of it all. 

He takes it in stride. 

---

From there, it only continues, borders are placed, and then moved, as the land only continues to grow, all technically his. The entire snowy biome, the centerpoint being the mountain where it started, all is his. 

Systems are set up, and Phil plans, writes, and the realms know the day it is announced, this place is Phil’s, and these people are under his protection. And he will keep it safe. 

So years pass, and he only grows, with more respect, more land, more people and power, until one day, he’s sitting in a meeting room, in the halls of his castle, filled with people who respect him and follow him, who tell him of how his kingdom is flourishing. 

---

Life as a king, though, is lonely, at times. And while Phil had his own family, once, they’ve been long gone before he even started the trip to the End. Before all of this. 

And even with the people loyal to him, listening to his word, the halls of the castle can still be empty at times, with how big it is, and at those moments, Phil walks down silent, grand halls, almost hating how loud his footsteps are compared to the lonely silence. 

And the universe is kind, because as one day, when Phil comes down from the castle, head hidden and wings tucked away, walking through his streets, that’s when he finds them both. 

Two kids, bright and curious, sitting at the corner of the street. One sings a song Phil doesn’t know, the other silently holds out a hat for change, sitting on the ground beside the first kid. 

Their clothes are old and worn out, loose on them, and not nearly enough to keep out the cold properly. They have a peculiar look to them, said look being their pointed ears, and matching light pink hair. 

It’s peculiar, but also not, because with Phil’s rule, he’s seen similar things before, and he can only assume with the release of magic, it also created certain features in people, certain abilities and certain...looks.   

Phil drops a coin into the hat, and is glad to see that there’s already a pile of coins in the hat, but a bit worried as to why they would need to ask for money in the first place.

“Singing for money?” Phil asks, the kid on his feet nodding, swiping his pinkish hair off his face. “What’re you going to use the money for?”

“Food, probably.” The kid answers, and the one sitting on the ground holds the hat close to his chest, looking up at Phil with wary eyes. “Maybe some new shoes, if we have enough.”

Phil nods, slowly, and looks down to the kids feet. The one standing and singing has old, torn up shoes, looking like they’re about to fall apart. The other one doesn’t have shoes at all, barefoot out on the freezing street, and that just makes Phil concerned. 

“Where are your parents?” Phil asks, and he already knows the answer, from the state they’re both in. Wherever they are, they’re not with their kids. 

The first kid shrugs, and Phil notes that the other one is a bit quiet, only giving a stare. “Dunno. It’s just been me and Techno for a long time. We’re twins.” 

“I’m older.” Techno speaks up, hugging the hat full of money to his chest, Wilbur looking down at him with a scrunched up face. 

“No you’re not.”

“I am.” Techno nods, sounding incredibly sure.  

“We’re twins , so we were born at the same time-”

“I was probably born first.” 

“You don’t even know- ”

Phil huffs at their slight bickering, shaking his head. “My name is Phil. Do you guys have a place to sleep for tonight?” 

They both pause, looking to each other and seeming to talk almost telepathically, before Techno speaks up. “No.” 

Wilbur doesn’t add on, Techno only glancing at him, Wilbur looking with wide eyes, keeping his lips sealed. 

Phil nods, looking down the street, up the mountain to the castle. It looks small from here, the town being far, and Phil had flown down, since the roads being made up were still relatively new. 

 “Would you like to come with me? I can give you a home, if you’d like.” 

They both glance at each other again, looking at Phil with a new light in their eyes, and Wilbur grabs Phil by the hand suddenly, as if he’s keeping Phil from running off. Phil doesn’t pull away. 

Techno gets to his feet, and holds onto Wilbur’s hand, holding the hat of money in his other arm. 

“I suppose I’ll take that as a yes?” Phil asks, smiling a bit. 

“Mhm-hm.” Wilbur nods, and Phil nods with him, pulling the two of them along, down the street. They only make it a few steps before Phil stops, looking down at them. 

“What?” Wilbur asks, seeing Phil’s face, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Techno, right?” Phil asks, Techno shoulders tensing up, giving a quick nod. “Can I carry you? Your feet…” 

Phil glances down to Techno’s feet, no shoes to be found to protect him from the freezing street. 

Techno looks like he’s about to disagree, but Wilbur yanks at his hand, turning his head to his twin. “Let him carry you.” Wilbur says quietly, and he nods as if he’s said something more. 

Techno stares at Wilbur with a thoughtful face, but then nods, looking up to Phil again. “Okay.”

So then Phil carries Techno in one arm, and leads Will on with the other, the three of them walking down the street, a few people giving a glance, but with the hood over Phil’s head, not much attention is given. 

Techno holds his arms around Phil’s neck, looking ahead with a stern face, most likely wondering as to where they’re going. Wilbur gives Phil glances as they walk along, and when they get to the end of the town, to the barren road leading up the mountain, workings of construction at the sides, Wilbur only keeps looking at Phil with a confused face. 

When they’re far enough, with hardly anyone around, Phil stops, Wilbur turning his head this way and that way, confused as to why they’ve gone so far from the actual town. 

Phil lets go of Wilbur’s hand, and Wilbur only squeezes on tighter, giving a panicked face. 

“I just need to take off my coat.” Phil says, Techno giving him a perplexed face, while Wilbur takes a moment to let go. 

Phil struggles a bit to remove his coat, pulling down his hood and slipping his arm out of his sleeve, not wanting to put Techno on the ground because now there’s actual snow on the street here, and there’s no way Phil is putting him down without any shoes on. 

“You have wings!” Wilbur yells, as Phil maneuvers Techno onto his other arm, letting his coat fall off his arm onto the ground. He has more coats, he can leave it. 

Techno grabs at Phil’s shirt, tilting his head over Phil’s shoulder and looking with wide eyes at Phil’s back, where his wings open up, stretching out as Will gives another excited scream. 

“You’re-” Techno cuts himself off, looking at Phil’s wings with shock, and that’s the most emotion he’s seen from the kid in the past twenty minutes. 

“You’re the king!” Wilbur says for Techno, taking a step back as he watches Phil’s wings spread out. 

Phil nods, grinning at how they both sound. “Excuse me, uhm-” Phil waves a hand over, leaning down a bit and fumbling because he realizes he never got the other kid’s name. 

“Wilbur.” Techno supplies, and Phil smiles, holding an arm out to Will. 

“Wilbur, come here.”

Wilbur runs over, and Phil picks him up as well, holding him in his other arm. Wilbur wraps his arms around Phil’s neck, looking over his shoulder at his wings in awe, while Techno holds on to Phil’s shirt and Wilbur’s arm, seeming to already know where this is going. 

“Alright. Are either of you afraid of heights?” Phil asks, and it’s a bit of dumb question, but he wants to ask it anyway, just to give them both a heads-up. 

“Heights?” Wilbur repeats, and Techno gives a quick shake of his head, smiling. 

“Nope. Let’s go.” He says, and there’s a gleam in his eyes as he grins, Phil matching his smile.

“Alright. Hold on.” Phil tells them, then spreads out his wings once more, and flies . 

Wilbur shrieks when they go up. Techno laughs. 

---

Phil brings them back to his castle, has a room set up for them, and while the servant in front of him gives a surprised face at seeing the kids in his arms, she still goes off to carry out his request. 

Phil gives them his undivided attention for the rest of the day, has all his meetings pushed back, tells everyone that unless it’s life threatening, then leave him alone, because he’s busy. 

He gets them a bath, gets new clothes made, gets food, gets shoes , although, as they walk around in living quarters of the castle, the floors are mostly carpet, so the shoes aren’t as necessary as before. 

But their reactions when he offers them are priceless. 

And he spends the midday sitting on the floor of their new room, as Techno pokes around, and Wilbur asks questions, curious as he watches Techno go around the room. 

“And you’re the king?” Wilbur asks, leaning his palms down onto Phil’s leg, who sits down on the carpet with his legs criss crossed. 

“Yes.”

“And you do have wings, like everyone says.” Wilbur nods a chin to Phil’s wings, which rest on his back, out in the open. 

“Yup.”

“Okay, but where’s your crown?”

“I don’t wear it when I go visit the town. It makes people notice me.”

“Don’t you want to be noticed?” Techno asks, turning around to him and Wilbur, a pillow in his arms. 

“Sometimes I don’t.” Phil shrugs. “The attention can be a lot.”

Techno nods slowly, like he’s been given new wisdom, and Wilbur pats at Phil’s knee again. 

“Can I see your crown?” Wilbur asks, Phil smiling. 

And as night falls, with Phil letting the two of them play with his multiple crowns, things of extreme respect, and meaning, Phil only laughs as they both try them on, Techno choosing to keep a certain one on his head and refusing to take it off. 

Phil doesn’t retreat into his own room that night, and falls asleep with two kids snoring away at his side, royal crowns thrown to the side.

---

Word travels fast within a few days of the kids in the castle, and rumors swirl and stick. Before long, people assume Phil’s taken in two sons, both of age 7. 

He doesn’t say otherwise, and he only smiles warmly when people refer to the two of them as the little princes. 

The kingdom grows, and with it, so does Techno and Will, Phil watching over them both. And the moments that come along with the year are everything to Phil. 

A week into having Techno and Wilbur in the castle, Phil finally retreats some of his attention from them, and returns to his responsibilities. He puts a babysitter in charge while he goes off to his first meeting of the day, and instructs for the two twins to stay, for he has things to do while being a king. 

He leaves them in the living quarters, with their things, hoping they won’t be too bored while he’s gone. 

Ten minutes into his first meeting, there’s a knock at the door of the room, and the people at the table turn their heads as the guard outside announces that the king’s sons are demanding to be let in. 

“One is threatening me with a sword, your majesty, I just had to let them in.” The guard says with a grin, opening the door with Wilbur running in, Techno walking past with a stern look and a small fake sword in his hand. 

Techno’s taken a liking to that sword, him and Wilbur playing with matching ones, and he never lets it go, just like the crown upon his head. Phil lets him keep it.

Wilbur, on the other hand, also has a crown similar to Techno’s, but he only wears it to match his twin, rather for the liking Techno has taken to his. While Wilbur doesn’t have something he carries around all the time, like Techno and his sword, he does have a habit of holding Techno’s hand and tugging him around.

The two of them barely even pay attention to the people sitting around the meeting table, instead run directly to Phil, who asks what happened to the person watching over them. 

“We locked them in the bathroom.” Wilbur responds, resting his hands on Phil’s leg, smiling like he hasn’t done a thing wrong while Techno goes behind Phil’s chair, sticking a hand into Phil’s wings. 

From that instance on, Phil just let the two of them follow along, and they trailed behind him as he did his duties. It became a common sight for the two of them to be talking amongst themselves behind Phil, or underneath his chair at times, snickering and playing small games as Phil carried out his responsibilities. 

---

Two weeks into having them in the castle, Phil decides to let them sleep in their room on their own, going back to his own bed just down the hall. 

At first, it’s alright, and Phil actually enjoys being able to sleep without having small feet kicking him in the middle of the night. 

Then, on the third night, the two of them come to Phil’s room, Wilbur poking him awake. Phil raises his head to see Wilbur standing beside his head, holding onto Techno’s hand. 

“Techno had a nightmare.” Wilbur says simply, and Phil’s heart squeezes at Techno’s face, at how he stares at the floor with a frown, his face wet from tears. 

Phil lifts his blanket up, and they both crawl in. 

He holds them both for a while, Wilbur hugging Techno, shoving his face into Techno’s shoulder as Techno stares at Phil’s shirt. 

“My head won’t be quiet.” Techno mumbles, Phil opening his eyes to see Techno’s ears twitch, his face looking unhappy. 

Phil runs a hand through Techno’s hair, reassuring and consistent, and Wilbur only shoves his face more into Techno’s shirt, his arms tightening around him. 

Wilbur hums a song that Phil doesn’t know, and Techno falls asleep to it within minutes. Then Wilbur drifts off as well, and Phil hugs them both close, closing his eyes with them. 

 --- 

Wilbur, at one point, asks if he can figure out how to change his hair color. 

“What color would you want it?” Phil asks, the three of them sitting for dinner, the table is huge, with plenty of food, and even this long in, sometimes the two of them still take a double take at the amount of it. 

“I dunno. Brown?” Wilbur shrugs, stabbing at his food with a fork. 

“We won’t match anymore.” Techno says from beside Will, although their hair already tells them apart. Wilbur had his cut short a while ago, while Techno wanted his to stay long. Phil usually braided it for him, since he has experience with his own long hair. Right now it sat in a short ponytail behind Techno’s head, pulled back neatly with a few stands hanging in front of his face. 

“We’re still twins, though. Looking different won’t change that.” Wilbur pointed out, Techno making a ‘hmmn’ sound before putting food into his mouth. 

“I’m still older.” He says through a mouthful of food, and as Phil tells him to chew before speaking, Wilbur slams a hand onto the table, yelling loudly. 

“We’re TWINS!”

Wilbur gets his hair dyed a week later, dark brown. His face and Techno’s are still similar, though, and while it takes a moment to realize it, you can tell if they’re twins by observing their features. 

---

Time passes quickly, and Phil doesn’t mind it at all, as his rule grows, so does his sons, and by the time a whole year has passed since he’s brought them home, his kingdom has grown into an empire. 

They celebrate the day with no meetings, just the three of them and some cake. Wilbur declares it their birthday, because they don’t remember the actual day, and Techno agrees with it, Phil smiling and enjoying their prideful faces when he asks how it feels to be eight.

“I feel old.” Techno says with frosting on his face, and as Phil wipes it off with a towel, Wilbur laughs, poking at his cake slice with his fork. 

There’s a knock at the door, swinging open before Phil can even say anything. His face drops into a displeased frown, and both Wilbur and Techno snicker at his serious face being directed towards the guard outside. 

“ What . I’m trying to celebrate my sons’ birthday.” Phil says, the guard wilting under his stare, shaking their head. 

“I- Your Grace, I-I’m sorry, but-”

Phil freezes as he’s told the news, and Wilbur and Techno look to him with wide eyes. 

War has been declared onto the Antarctic Empire, and attacks are being made.

Chapter Text

From what Tommy’s been told, from what he’s gotten when he asks, him and Tubbo were born into a time of war. A far off kingdom in over their head, choosing to take on the empire, the ruler apparently simply wanting to challenge the emperor and his subjects for fun. 

The war wasn’t something to scoff at, the Antarctic Empire against an old, large kingdom that’s adapted to the new world, and while most would think that they would’ve been defeated easily to the Empire’s forces, they held up, and they caused as much damage as they could while they did. 

The king of the other kingdom had apparently been convinced that Phil didn’t deserve his power, didn’t deserve his title, and so, for fun, attacked his people and his land. Phil acted accordingly, and fought back, but also tried his best to protect those in his rule. 

The war hit hard, and resources went low. Attacks on stray towns weren’t that uncommon, refugees from other parts of the kingdom became a common sight, people struggled in day to day life as food went scarce, and the defenses weakened bit by bit, every day, as the battle raged on. It seemed as if it would never end, and while the Emperor ordered on his soldiers and reassured his people, everyone could only wonder how far he could protect them until he couldn’t any longer. 

Tommy wouldn’t really know much about that part though, he was young. People lost a lot during that time, and Tommy and Tubbo lost their parents. 

Or their parents lost them, maybe. It doesn’t matter, either way, him and Tubbo showed up at the orphanage within the same time, within the same time of war, two newborns at the doorstep, taken in.

Him and Tubbo were born into war, but they never saw the brunt of it, because as Tommy has been told multiple times, he was born into the start of a war, but grew up in an era of peace. Lucky, according to most. They were part of a lucky generation who only knew of the war through stories.

Tommy was only two when the war came to a peak, and he was only two when an entire town at the edges of the empire was burnt to the ground, no survivors left alive, a clear threat from the other side to either surrender, or they’ll do it again and again until Phil broke. 

Fear spread through the kingdom, and rumors came from the castle, the people talking over how their emperor, giving orders from the castle, was trying to protect his people while also raising his two sons, ten years of age. The rumors said that their emperor was falling apart. 

There were whisperings of how the emperor weeped for hours on end in grief, and as a response, the castle entrance was adorned with piles upon piles of flowers. The front gates were filled with color, the people taking flowers and placing them at the front of the castle, as a show of silent support. 

Flowers are hard to come by in such a cold kingdom, and they don’t grow by themselves. They take work, time, and once they are fully grown, putting them outside isn’t much of an option if you want them to last. 

And yet there were so many, and when Phil looked out at his gates to see the ocean of colors, standing out brightly against the snow, he could only drop to his knees and cry again.

So then his grief turned into anger, into cold determination. 

Tommy was only two years old, a kid being taken care of at the orphanage, when the Emperor joined his soldiers at the battlefield and won a fight. And won another, and yet another, over and over. 

And when his own soldiers couldn’t fight on at his speed, he went on his own, and flew to the other kingdom with a sword in his hand, ready to get peace one way or another. 

It was inhuman, in the way that he didn’t stop, three days of nonstop fighting, Phil was never seen taking a break, only defending, and advancing, and yelling for the other side to leave and never come back.

Tommy was two years old when the Emperor of the Antarctic Empire secured peace by flying to the king on the other side, and with his wings spread high and his sword pointed out, he demanded for the fighting to stop, or else he would burn the castle to the ground like they did to his own people. 

From there, Tommy grew up in a time of peace. 

And he’s never known much more, other than the fact that the emperor was a fucking badass .

---

“ Dammit- Tubbo!” Tommy nearly lets the wooden crate in his hands tip over, the jars in it clinking together as he holds one hand to his chest, wincing at how his finger stings and trying to not let the crate fall over onto the ground. “I’m gonna drop it, oh my god-”

“Hold on!” Tubbo rushes out from the store doorway, hopping down the steps over to Tommy, grabbing the crate and helping Tommy put it down gently, sighing when they both take their hands away from it without anything falling over. 

“What, what happened?” Tubbo asks, glancing over the jars to see if any have cracked before raising his head to Tommy.

“My finger got in between the crates.” Tommy mutters, holding his hand out for Tubbo to look at, and he freezes at seeing red trail down his middle finger, down his palm. “Ooooh, that’s not good.”

Tubbo leans over, pushing his hand away from the crates. “Don’t get it on the jars! I think there’s probably bandaids by the front counter-”

“You care about the jars more than me?!” Tommy yells, holding his hand out away from the crates, making a face at how blood drips down onto the snow below their feet. God, this hurts like a bitch. 

“Well, I mean, we have an hour left to move these, man, and like, if we don’t finish, we don’t get our money-” Tubbo responds, grinning as he walks around the crates, reaching for Tommy’s hand to get a look. 

Tommy waves Tubbo off, going over to the steps into the store to look for the bandaids Tubbo mentioned. 

“No, no, I understand, glass jars are just so much more valuable than your best friend, obviously.” Tommy snarks, the wide smile on his face betraying how he’s trying to sound offended. Tubbo only rolls his eyes before turning his attention to the crates again, heaving one up in his arms, trusting for Tommy to take care of himself.

A pro of being one of the older kids in the orphanage, with a good track record of hiding their more… chaotic, accidents from the caretakers, is that the two of them are trusted with their own safety, are seen as “responsible”, and are allowed out into the town. (On a curfew, unfortunately, but it’s still better than nothing) 

And while they are far from responsible, and, being safe really, they take that freedom with both hands, and use it to the best of their abilities. 

According to the caretakers, Tommy is a bit loud, but a sweet kid. Tubbo’s sorta quiet, and awkward, but he’s polite. 

According to Tommy, he knows that he’s an annoying fucker, and the amount of times he’s thrown snowballs into people’s faces just to piss them off, god, he’s lost count. Tubbo’s polite, sure, that part is somewhat true, and yet also not, because Tommy will never forget the time that he had to drag the teen by the shirt to try and get him to stop yelling about the rarity and beauty of bees to some person who apparently hated bugs. That was a fun night. He had thrown two snowballs at someone’s face that night. 

Going around causing trouble isn’t a usual goal for them when they’re allowed out in the town though, (not usually, at least) and in order to spend their time, they go to the main plaza of the town, where there’s stalls and tables, places to try food and sit by warm fires. 

However, in order to have any actual fun, you need to have money to buy actual things. So most of their time outside consists of taking up any random jobs that anyone will give them. 

Either it’s sweeping a set of stairs, shoveling snow, or helping with restocking, both their faces are familiar around the main shops of the town, and the shop owners at this point know they can depend on them to finish up any tedious work, and in return, they’ll get paid, either through some food, trinkets, or actual money.

For today, he and Tubbo were able to get out almost right after breakfast at the orphanage, (In Tommy's opinion, that food tasted like cardboard), and they spent their morning running down the street and looking for any small jobs. 

They found them easily enough, and as of right now, they’re working on moving heavy wooden crates full of glass jars holding different types of jams. It’s annoying having to go out into the cold alleyway, pick the crate up, try not to trip on the few steps up to the doorway, and move through the small store to put the items in the backroom, but it’s worth it if it means the reward will let them have a nice day at the plaza. 

Tommy has no idea why the shop owner decided to trust them with fragile crates, of all things, but he isn’t complaining, as long as they get some money. 

He walks through the small store with a whistling tune coming from his mouth, going around behind the counter and looking through the drawers, trying to keep his hand from dripping blood everywhere. It’s not like he’s bleeding out, and it’ll lessen eventually, but it still stings and he’d rather have it patched up instead of leaving faint bloodstains on the crates. 

“Tubbo, where did you say were the bandaids, again?” Tommy asks, as Tubbo walks in with a crate held carefully in his arms, his chin placed on top of the crate as slowly walks over to the backroom.

“Uh, I dunno. Somewhere around there.” Tubbo responds, giving as best of a shrug as he can with his arms full. 

“Very helpful, Tubbo.” Tommy deadpans, Tubbo only laughing as he goes to put the crate away. 

Tommy looks through three different drawers, finding only papers, pencils, and a stray pair of glasses before seeing a few bandaids scattered at the bottom of the last drawer. 

He grabs it, closing the drawer and pushing himself on top of the counter, swinging his legs lightly as he tries to rip the adhesive off. It’s nearly impossible, though, because he’s only using one hand, and he really doesn’t want to touch anything with his other one, because there’s blood all over it from him closing it into a fist to try and keep it from dripping. 

It’s so bad, and it looks so much worse than it actually is, which would be amusing if Tommy wasn’t fighting to get this damn bandaid to work with him-

Tubbo comes out from the backroom, glancing to the openside door leading out to the alleyway, before making a beeline to Tommy around the counter. He swipes the bandaid out of Tommy’s hand, standing to the side so Tommy won’t kick him with his restless legs.

“Hey! I was trying to use that.” Tommy protests, Tubbo only giving a vague noise of agreement, pulling the bandaid open and holding a palm out with a smile. Tommy gives him an unimpressed face with as much distaste as he can muster, but he still lets Tubbo look over his finger, wrapping it as well as he can with it being all gross. 

“Aw, ew, your hand is all bloody.” Tubbo wrinkles his nose at the sight, wiping his fingertips on his pants. 

“Yeah, yeah, shut up or else I’ll wipe my hand on your shirt.” The cut doesn’t hurt that much anymore, it still stings as Tubbo looks it over, but now it’s just annoying more than anything, and it looks overly dramatic, with the smeared blood.

The front door opens with a ding of a bell, and the shop owner comes in, a polite kinda guy who always has a hood over his ears to keep out the cold of the usual weather. Last he said, he went to run errands while him and Tubbo were in charge, and he’s back earlier than Tommy expected.

“Alright, kids, how are the crates going?” Bad asks, seeing Tommy sitting on the counter and Tubbo standing beside him. He notices Tommy holding his hand up in the air in front of him, and how it looks like he’s been stabbed or something. “Oh my goodness, your hand!” 

Bad rushes over, Tubbo taking a step back as Tommy’s hand is grabbed, Tommy frowning.

“Tommy squished one of his fingers in between some crates.” Tubbo informs, clasping his hands together in front of him. 

“Then why is there so much blood?!” Bad questions, turning to Tubbo behind him as Tommy yanks his hand away. Tubbo shrugs.

Bad walks past Tubbo to grab a towel, going out to the alleyway and grabbing some snow from the ground, putting just a bit in the cloth, then walking back in and giving it to Tommy, who uses it to wipe his hand off. 

 “It’s not my fault the jars are so fuckin heavy.” Tommy mutters, rubbing at his palm until it’s clean, holding the towel out again. Bad takes it without complaint. 

“Language.” Bad says lightly, taking a step back and sighing, a dirty towel in his hands. “Okay, I think that’s enough work for you two.”

“What?! No, we can finish!” Tubbo protests, moving in front of Bad with a frown. 

“I can carry in the rest of them, don’t worry about it, here-” Bad takes a step back, looking through some drawers to the side, the wood creaking as he searches. He opens a second drawer and hums, grabbing a small pouch of coins and putting it in Tubbo’s hands. Tommy hops off the counter as Tubbo shakes the small bag in his grasp, curious at the amount inside.

“That’s your reward for today. Now, shoo! I’m about to open, you guys go play in the snow or something, you’ve worked enough for today.” Bad says, and pushes them gently towards the front door, the two of them not complaining, more intrigued in what they’ve been given. 

Tommy leans over Tubbos shoulder as they both make their way towards the door, and Tubbo opens the pouch in his hands to find a small pile of silver coins. 

“Not bad for carrying those crates.” Tubbo says, and Tommy pushes the door open for them both, the two of them walking outside into the street, a stark contrast from the warmth of inside. 

The stone street is as cold as it always is, a few people walking past, dressed in warm layers as they go down the road of lit-up stores with roofs covered in white. The snow falls lightly from the sky, a normal occurrence living here, and Tommy and Tubbo walk down their usual path, already knowing this road and their stores like the back of their hand. The plaza is only a ten minute walk away, and Tommy rubs his hands together for warmth as Tubbo counts the coins in his hands.

“This is actually pretty good.” Tubbo tells him, Tommy humming as Tubbos closes the pouch up again, storing it away in his pocket. “Any plan on what to do today?”

“I’m thinking,” Tommy stares up at the sky, huffing at how the white falls into his hair. He’s used to the cold, he’s grown up in it all his life, but it never fails to be slightly annoying when his ears freeze up and go red. “...maybe try buying those new cookies they were selling at the bakery yesterday.”

“New cookies?” Tubbo asks, Tommy nodding as the two of them step over a ledge in the path, an uneven part that no one’s figured out to fix. They’ve both tripped over it more than once, and Tommy personally hates the terrain with a passion. 

“Yeah, there were some in the display window, I saw it yesterday while we walked past, I really wanted some.” They had looked good, Tommy remembers, little square shaped cookies with a pretty design on it. They had looked like vanilla, maybe. 

“Why didn’t you point it out?” Tubbo frowns, Tommy scoffing at his disappointed tone. “We could’ve bought some then.”

“I saw them when we were out of money.” 

“Oh. Well, then, we got money now.” Tubbo grins, and Tommy grins along with him. 

---

Tommy’s sitting at one of the public tables of the plaza, underneath the small roof that protects it from the snow, with a community fireplace right beside him. The warmth from the fire lets him take off his old coat, his long sleeved shirt wrinkled slightly as he keeps his coat resting over his legs. 

He leans onto the table in front of him, picking at the bandaid on his hand as he waits for Tubbo to return with treats, the teen having insisted on going to the bakery on his own while Tommy goes to find a place to sit.

The plaza is only a bit busy today, people mingling and chatting around the stalls and shops.

The place itself is build like a giant circle, the outer section of the plaza being made up of stores, purely of sweets and things to enjoy, stalls for selling fun trinkets and food. The inner section of the plaza is more of tables and seats, fireplaces and areas for people to sit and gather around, enjoy what they’ve bought and enjoy each other’s company. 

 At the center of the plaza itself, there’s a small stone statue of the Emperor, standing upon a pedestal, hands resting on a sword, head tilted down with closed eyes. His crown is small on his head, and his wings are carved in a way that shows off each feather.

 Flowers are placed at the feet of the statue, and while some are frozen and wilting, there are always a least a few new ones sitting there, bright and vibrant in their color. Tommy personally thinks the statue is really cool, and it’s a nice thing to have, to give Tommy an idea of what the ruler even looks like. 

While the emperor does come down from the castle to check on his people, he doesn’t do it too often, and the town Tommy lives in doesn’t get frequent visits. 

Tommy finds himself staring at the statue with curiosity, looking over the peaceful expression on Phil’s face, and not noticing Tubbo running up until he’s slammed down a bag of cookies onto the table. 

“ Motherfuck- ” Tommy jumps, holding a hand to his chest. “Did you break the cookies or something? Why did you slam them?!” He yells, Tubbo shrugging with a small pink box in his hands as he sits down across Tommy, putting the box down. 

“I dunno.” Tubbo smiles, Tommy making a face at the response. Tubbo moves on as Tommy reaches for the bag.  “The bakery lady was really nice while I talked to her. We had a nice conversation.”

“Is that why you took so long to buy the stuff?” Tommy asks, pulling open the back of cookies, pulling one out and taking a bite of it. It’s good, and he didn’t expect any less. 

“Yeah, her name is Niki, and she also has a brother named Ranboo, I think? And he’s kinda weird, he wears a mask and his skin is kinda funny-”

“Well that’s just rude, Tubbo.” Tommy says, holding a hand over his mouth, his words slightly muffled as he chews.

“Hey, I’m just saying what I saw.” Tubbo holds his hands up, shaking his head. “But she gave me a discount, and I got this.” He pats a hand onto the small box in front of him, Tommy raising his eyebrows.

“What is it?” Tommy asks, eating another cookie as Tubbo lifts the lid up. 

It’s a small white cake, a smiley face in frosting drawn on the top. There’s blue frosting on the borders, and Tommy wonders what’s the occasion. 

“Happy birthday!” Tubbo cheers, pulling the cake out of the box, sliding it in between them both as Tommy gives a confused look. Their birthday isn’t for another two weeks, this is a bit early. 

At the orphanage, your birthday is really just the day you showed up there. Him and Tubbo showed up as babies only a day apart, so they’ve celebrated theirs together every year without fail. 

“A bit off on the date, Tubbo.” Tommy says as he finishes off his cookie. 

“Yeah, I know.” Tubbo shrugs, pulling out two forks, handing one over to Tommy. “But it was on a discount, and there’s no harm in extra cake.” 

Tommy takes the fork from Tubbo, huffing in amusement and pushing the bag of cookies to the side, poking his fork into the frosting. “Happy birthday.” Only two weeks left, then he'll be 16, a grand ole number. 

“Mhm-hm.” Tubbo hums, and then stabs his side of the cake with a snicker.

“Oh, god, you’ve just killed it, Tubbo-!”

“Ohhhh, there’s frosting on the table-”

---

Later on, that night, when they return to the orphanage, to their shared room, they share the rest of the cookies while sitting on their own beds, across the small room from each other. 

They’re wearing their old, worn out clothes as pajamas, refusing to get up in any way, the floor being too cold to walk barefoot around the room. Tubbo fiddles with the end of his blanket as they talk about earlier in the plaza, with the experience at the bakery.

“No, her name was Niki, I’m sure,” Tubbo starts, catching a cookie from Tommy, who chucks cookies at him periodically, since he has the bag in his hands. “She was just really friendly, you know?”

“What, you think you’re gonna be able to get a job there or something?” Tommy asks, breaking a cookie apart in his hands. 

“Well, not exactly…” Tubbo leans his chin on his hand, trailing off for a moment, before continuing. “She asked about the orphanage.”

Tommy pauses, halfway through bringing the cookie to his mouth. 

“...What?” 

“Yeah, she asked about my family, and I said I didn’t have one, other than you, of course. But then she asked about where the orphanage was, and how to get there, and stuff.”

Tommy brushes off the warmth in his heart at Tubbo easily referring to him as family and clears his throat, waving a hand. “So either she’s overly curious, or…”

“She could be planning on visiting…?” Tubbo shrugs, making an unsure face. Tommy knows for a fact that Tubbo has a charm to him. And if he’s found someone he clicks with, someone he trusts like Tommy, there’s no doubt it’ll end with something good. 

“Good on you if she does man, who knows, maybe she’ll take you in.” Tommy shrugs, shoving another cookie into his mouth so he doesn’t have to talk anymore. 

“Well, if she does, she has to take you too.” Tubbo insists, leaning forward on his bed. “I’m not gonna leave you behind.”

Tommy waves a hand, chewing and talking with his mouth half full. “That doesn’t matter, Tubbo. Even if we end up living in different homes, that’s not going to stop us from being together.”

Tubbo still frowns though, looking at Tommy with a conflicted face. 

Swallowing down his cookie, Tommy goes on. “I’m just saying. If she does come over for you, and if she does offer a home, I don’t want you to say no just because you want to stay with me. A family is good.” 

Tubbo smiles warmly at his words, but he also rolls his eyes and scoffs, laying down on his bed. “You’re my family.” He turns his head to Tommy. “You know that, right?”

“I know.” Tommy mutters, and puts the bag of cookies to the side, three left in the bag. “You’re mine too.”

Tubbo laughs at his awkward tone, and Tommy chucks his pillow across the room, ignoring the way Tubbo only continues to laugh as he asks for Tubbo to throw his pillow back. 

Chapter Text

The days of the following week are what Tommy would call ‘the beginning of a fucking rollarcoaster’.

Monday morning, Tommy wakes up to getting hit in the face with a pillow, Tubbo cackling as Tommy literally rolls out of bed as he tries to hit back and defend himself, getting tangled in his blanket and hitting the floor. 

The next ten minutes consist of brutal fighting, and it ends with Tubbo shrieking for a time-out, stumbling out of their shared room as Tommy launches a pillow out into the hallway.  

They end up late to breakfast, and they also get a light scolding from the caretakers, who would’ve maybe given more of a lecture to them both if it weren’t for the fact that two other kids had started a food fight in the corner.

The joys of having 6-year olds in the vicinity. 

Eating food at the speed of light and tugging on their coats and boots, both Tommy and Tubbo are outside in record time, halfway down the street with Tommy still cussing Tubbo out for the rude morning. 

“It was funny-” Tubbo slaps a hand over his mouth, trying to choke down a laugh, turning his head the other direction as Tommy hits him in the arm, the two of them walking down the street. 

Snow falls lightly, as it usually does. People sweep snow off the street to the side, a usual routine that always goes on in the cold mornings. Both him and Tubbo have done it plenty of times for a few coins, and Tommy will be honest, sweeping the snow to the side is the most tedious job that they could ever get their hands on. But it’s always there. 

“It was not funny,” Tommy scoffs, Tubbo trying to nod with a serious, agreeing face, before breaking into another stifled laugh. Tommy resists the urge to scoop snow off the ground and put it into the back of Tubbo’s shirt. “I thought I was getting fucking murdered , oh, I think I have a bruise-”

“No you don’t!” Tubbo nudges a hand at Tommy’s side a few times, like he’s actually checking for injuries. Tommy waves him off, leaning to the side, turning his walk into a dramatic limp as Tubbo makes a face. 

“I do! I do! I am a victim, here-” 

“Oh, quit it.” Tubbo snorts, Tommy cackling as he gets shoved to the side, stumbling for a bit before standing up straight, walking beside Tubbo again. 

Tommy pauses as he hears Tubbo’s name getting called behind them. Tubbo stops too, the two of them giving a concerned glance before turning around, seeing a caretaker from the orphanage running after them, saying that Tubbo needs to come back, just real quick-

---

Tommy stands outside in the street as Tubbo goes into the orphanage, which is loud and lively at this time of the morning, with most of the kids fully awake and running around. 

The front door is left wide open for a moment, and Tommy sees a vaguely familiar woman standing inside, holding a pink box in her hands. Her hair is put up in a loose bun, and her coat looks like it’s too big, like she’s borrowing it from someone who’s much bigger. 

He gets a glimpse of Tubbo getting pushed towards her, the caretakers all polite and smiles, and Tommy hates how for a moment, it’s so fake, so artificial, just the necessity of being nice for the sake of it. 

But then she smiles at Tubbo and holds the box in one arm, and holds out a hand to Tubbo with the other, and her smile is warm, and when she shakes Tubbo’s hand, he laughs at something she says. 

The front door ends up getting closed, leaving Tommy out in the street, having to sit on the curb, huffing at the fact that he can’t go inside. 

He can, there’s nothing stopping him from going inside the building, actually, there’s nothing stopping him from walking into the orphanage and taking his usual spot at Tubbo’s side while he talks with a woman who’s here specifically for Tubbo. 

But he sees how kind her eyes are towards Tubbo specifically, and he sees how she shifts her weight from foot to foot nervously, smiling in a way that tells that she just wants to make a good first impression. 

From Tommy’s first impression, from how Tubbo had gone to awkward and uncomfortable to laughing and grinning, she’s a good person. And so Tommy is going to let Tubbo have his moment, and sit out here in the fucking cold while the prick stays inside having a delightful chat surrounded by a bunch of hyperactive screaming orphans. 

Tommy passes the time watching the snow fall onto his legs, and he brushes the white off, looking at his beat up shoes and the slight tear at the end of his pants. He needs to think about buying new shoes, but instead his mind wanders to getting Tubbo a gift for their birthday. 

A thought passes through his mind, lighting quick, and Tommy would almost be annoyed with how fast his heart latches onto it, if it weren’t just such a nice idea. 

A birthday gift that Tubbo deserves? A family. 

Tommy is family, he knows that much, him and Tubbo have something that can never be overshadowed, or replaced. But just the two of them, it’s not enough. Tubbo deserves so much more. 

Clasping his cold hands together and holding them his heart, Tommy silently hopes for the interaction to go well, silently hopes that this week will end in Tubbo having an entirely new home. Because wouldn’t that be one hell of a birthday gift. 

Twenty minutes after Tubbo’s walked into the orphanage, the woman comes out through the front doors, walking down the street in a quick pace, like he has somewhere to be. She’s smiling wide and she has a fluffy scarf around her neck. Tommy watches her go until she turns the corner, and he decides that he needs to find a way to strike a conversation with her, if the week should go well. 

Tubbo comes outside into the street with a pink box in his hands, already launching into a ramble of what’s happened, telling Tommy of what they talked about, trying to replay the last twenty minutes in perfect detail just for Tommy. 

The box in Tubbo’s hands holds cupcakes, he finds. 

They eat them together in the plaza while Tubbo rambles on about his interaction. Tommy eats most of the cupcakes. 

---

On Tuesday, Tommy is the one who drags Tubbo out of bed, and he takes his sweet time getting ready, even when Tubbo is outside in the hallway, practically weeping and whining for Tommy to please , just hurry up, it does not take five whole minutes to put a fucking shirt on-

“I can’t hear you, I’m getting ready!” Tommy calls out, then decides that he’s actually going to wear the other shirt he owns. “Ah, wait, I like this other shirt better.”

“THEY BOTH LOOK THE SAME!” Tubbo yells from outside, Tommy laughing. 

They do, actually, Tommy doesn’t own a lot of clothes as a whole, and they aren’t that pretty either. Which isn’t much of a concern to him, his coat is enough to keep the cold out and that’s all he needs. 

Either way, he enjoys the way Tubbo slams at the door and yells out swears, Tommy cackling at his frustration. 

When Tommy finally does swing the door open, Tubbo has cursed him out enough for the caretakers to be giving them both looks, because being a good influence to the younger kids is something they should be worried about, apparently, and Tubbo’s yelled loud enough for his words to echo downstairs.

They find Niki waiting downstairs with a small awkward smile, and Tommy has to actually choke down a laugh at the way Tubbo stumbles, because there's one way to show off the other side of Tubbo’s personality, by overhearing him cuss out Tommy early in the morning. 

But she’s still rather open and friendly, and she invites Tubbo for the two of them to go on a stroll around the plaza, just for the morning. 

And when Tubbo hesitates and gives Tommy an unsure glance, Tommy shoves him down the rest of the stairs. 

It was only two steps, he was fine.

---

Tubbo comes running back to Tommy, who spends most of the morning shoveling snow for cash, and he holds treats in his pockets and a familiar scarf around his neck. 

He talks about how he was given a tour around the bakery, and he shoves sweets into Tommy’s hands, mentioning someone called Ranboo, who he met with a bit of a chaotic first impression. 

“The oven was on fire, and somehow, that’s a normal thing, with him, Niki didn’t seem too concerned, she put it out really quickly-” Tubbo waves a hand, Tommy snickering and letting Tubbo go on, retelling it all. With each word Tommy just keeps raising his eyebrows and grinning, because, you know what, maybe Tommy will just let these people handle Tubbo. 

“-but I learnt how to frost a cupcake, and that was so bad, Niki made it look so easy, seriously-”

“-he kept trying to sneak cookies to me, and Niki told him off right in front of these two customers, it was so funny, I still got to keep the cookies, they were good-”

“-and he’s also not entirely human, too, he didn’t show me what was under his mask, but that’s why his skin is like that! Because he’s a hybrid of some sort-”

Tommy waves his hands, Tubbo pausing. “Wait, what?”

“He’s gotta be like, part endermen or something. He looks like it, and also he makes the noises.” 

“Like the enderman noises?” Tommy asks, and he’s never heard an Enderman directly, monsters like those aren’t common in town, rare sightings have popped up, here and there, but the empire as a whole is free of them. 

“Yeah! Like-” And Tubbo tries to copy the way they sound, Tommy calling him an idiot to his face, and Tubbo scoffs and kicks him in the shin.

They end up having an entirely new conversion over how endermen actually sounds like, which turns into a discussion of monsters as a whole, and then they both start rambling about the nether, what little they know from stray books and stories.

---

On Wednesday, Niki comes back around with Ramboo in tow, and Tubbo really wasn’t kidding about him being tall and a hybrid of some sort, because he is much taller than Tommy expected. 

It throws him off when he finds out that Niki is the oldest out of the two, and he’s left making an absolutely confused expression as Tubbo strikes up a conversation with the two of them in the middle of the street. 

This time, Tommy comes along, and they go back to the bakery, which is closed just for today, just so they can come over and hang out. 

It’s a quaint little shop, and there’s an upstairs area where they actually live, Tommy’s never wondered about the living areas of the small bakery, but as both him and Tubbo are given a little tour by Ranboo, it’s what he expects. 

There’s a room at the end of the hall upstairs, and when Ranboo opens it, he gives a shrug and says something along the lines of extra storage. 

But the room is mostly empty, and there’s a bed tucked in the corner that Tommy’s eyes get stuck on. Tubbo laughs nervously and quickly asks to try his hand again at frosting cupcakes, because last time had been a disaster. 

Tommy gets roped in, and he’s glad to say that he does just fine, thank you very much. (The frosting is falling off and the cupcake just looks sad) Tubbo seems to get the hang of it by the 15th try, and Ranboo gives a small applause, Niki coming in with food and drinks, smiling wide as Tubbo raises up the successful cupcake into the air. 

It’s sweet moment, literally, from the frosting on Tommy’s hands, and when he volunteers to help clean up with Niki, he finally gets a chance to talk alone with her, Tubbo and Ranboo moving upstairs, to where Ranboo apparently has a collection of small trinkets he wants to show. 

“You are taking Tubbo in, right?” Tommy asks, getting right to the point as he hears both Ramboo and Tubbo yell excitedly upstairs about something. 

Niki nearly drops the tray of messed up cupcakes in her hands, and she spins her head to Tommy with a chuckle. “Oh, I- well, that’s sorta the plan-”

“No, you’re going to.” Tommy says, picking a cupcake apart in his hands, and shoving a piece into his mouth. “You guys are good for him, I think he would like it here.”

Her eyes go soft, and she looks at Tommy with an expression he can’t place, standing still for a moment as the words hang in the air. She puts the tray to the side, ignoring the mess that still needs to be cleaned up and instead walking up to Tommy, arms crossed. 

“You guys are close, aren’t you? He talks about you a lot.” She says. 

“We’re best friends.” Tommy nods, Niki smiling. “And all I want for you to tell me that he's going to have a good home here.”

“I wouldn’t want anything less for him.” Niki agrees, and Tommy hums, satisfied with that answer. His heart feels warm, and he won’t lie about the certain feeling of excitement burning in his chest, because he knows Tubbo’s entirely in denial, and when he gets confirmation over getting adopted, it’s going to be great. 

“But you,” Niki pauses, trying to look for words as Tommy chews on his cupcake. “You and him are really close. Are you okay with him being here, just him? I mean, it would be a little bit much, with you two, but I could take you in too-”

Tommy shakes his head, Niki stopping. It’s appealing, the thought of both him and Tubbo living in this little bakery, with two other people who care. 

But this is Tubbo’s moment. And while it’s so appealing, it’s even more appealing of the thought of Tubbo having this be his, and only his. 

“No.” Tommy says, Niki’s expression going somber for a moment. “I just want Tubbo to be happy here.”

“He’d be happy with you here.” Niki shrugs one shoulder up, a last offer.

Tommy shakes his head again, smiling. “Nah. I’ll get my own family some other day, I want Tubbo to have his own.” 

Niki nods, and she’s hugging Tommy before he knows it, and it should be awkward, really, but it’s not. She’s just a comforting person. 

“Well, either way, you’re still family.” Niki says quietly, and Tommy nods, hugging back for a moment before taking a step backward. 

“Our birthday is next week.” He blurts out, Niki blinking. 

“Your-” She pauses, then her eyes go wide. “Oh, really?! I don’t- if you don’t mind, what does he like? Or you too, I could get you both presents-” She stammers, looking slightly panicked, as if she couldn’t just whip up a birthday cake within an hour. 

“You can get me a present, but it’s gotta be this.” Tommy holds up a finger, and Niki waits.

---

Thursday morning, adoption papers are given to Tubbo, and he’s asked if he’s okay with it, the caretakers looking a bit emotional as they give them to him. 

Tommy thinks this has to be the best birthday gift ever, even if it’s a week early, because Tubbo’s eyes overflow with tears and as he stands in the doorway of their room, papers held tightly in his hands, his heart feels so warm. 

Tommy stays sitting on his bed as Tubbo cries at the doorway, the caretakers telling them that Niki is downstairs, but Tubbo hardly listens, and instead runs at Tommy, tackling him into the mattress. 

They’re left alone for a moment, thankfully, and Tommy hugs Tubbo as tight as he can, Tubbo trying to wave around the papers in his hands, the paper telling everything about him, telling the world that he’s a part of a family, a true one. 

Tommy has to drag him down the stairs, the two of them laughing hysterically, and Tubbo doesn’t need a push this time when he sees Niki, and instead goes running right to her. 

And seeing her hold Tubbo in her arms, in a way that Tommy knows she would die for him, it’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect. 

They spend the day out at shops, Tommy getting tugged along as well, because there isn’t a chance Tubbo would ever celebrate something like this without him. Niki buys them sweets and they meet with Ranboo at the plaza, who’s entirely thrown off by Tubbo giving him a hug the second he sees him, and both Niki and Tommy laugh. 

---

Niki agrees for Tubbo to stay another night at the orphanage, with Tommy, and they agree to move his stuff, what little he has, over to the bakery tomorrow morning. 

Tubbo has his few shirts and pants tucked away in boxes, which are placed at the end of his bed, out of the way, but a visual reminder and confirmation that Tubbo’s life has taken a big turn for the better. 

It’s late night, and the room has a slight chill to it, yet it’s warm with the lasting joy from going out and celebrating earlier today. There’s a candle lighting up the room dimly, sitting on the small drawer that’s in between the two beds at opposite sides of the room. 

Both Tommy and Tubbo are underneath their blankets, entirely ready to go to sleep, but instead they chat quietly across the room, ignoring how each of them yawn here and there between sentences. 

“It’s just weird to think about.” Tubbo admits, voice quiet as he stares up at the ceiling, Tommy turning his head to him. “I’m not going to be here anymore.”

Tommy snickers, shaking his head. “You make it sound like you’re going to die.”

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.” Tubbo scoffs, grinning. “This place is all I’ve never known. I’m going to have my own room , over at the bakery.” 

“I’m going to have my own room here, once you move.” Tommy nods, Tubbo turning his head to him. 

“Won’t the caretakers give you another roommate?”

“Fuck no, I refuse to have one.” Tommy makes a face, and Tubbo laughs softly, because yeah, the caretakers can beg all they want, but Tommy would rather sleep in the hallway on the ground rather than have another roommate. 

Tubbo hums, comfortable silence sitting in the air. 

“I kinda wish you would come with me.” Tubbo says, Tommy sighing under his breath. “We might be cramped, to be honest, back at the bakery, but I would like you there.”

“Nah.” Tommy stares up at the ceiling. “That’s your home. I’ll get my own some other day.”

“You better.” 

There’s a pause, then a shuffling of blankets, and Tubbo slips out of his bed, quickly walking across the cold floor and climbing into Tommy’s bed instead. Tommy lets him climb under the blanket, and Tubbo uses his shoulder as a pillow, the two of them laying there, looking up as if they can see the night sky beyond the wood. 

“I’m kinda scared.” Tubbo admits.

Tommy thinks of having a morning where Tubbo isn’t there to wake him up, thinks of a night where he has to drift off in an empty room. It’s bittersweet, but the image of Tubbo crying with those papers in his hands, running into Niki’s arms, it washes away any sort of regrets, and he just smiles. 

“Yeah.” Tommy agrees. “It’s a bit scary.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“We’re still going to see each other like every day.”

“Yeah.” Tubbo sighs, squinting up at the ceiling, scrunching his nose. “But it’s not the same.”

Tommy leans his head onto Tubbo’s. “Well, that’s okay, isn’t it? A bit of change is good.”

“It is.” Tubbo agrees, and he turns over, wrapping an arm over Tommy. “I think, from now on, things are going to be good.”

Tommy hugs him back. 

“I think so too.”

---

Friday morning, Tommy helps out with bringing Tubbo’s stuff across town, the two of them carrying boxes in their arms and making a slow walk over to the plaza, to where the bakery is. 

It’s a little crowded when they come in, customers filling up the store, and Ranboo quickly lets them through on the other side of the counter before going to take another order. Niki is in the kitchen, and the air smells sweet. Tubbo leans into the kitchen and clears his throat, and Niki looks up from cookies she was making, a frosting bag in her hands. 

“Oh, Tubbo!” She says, drawing out a smiley face on another cookie as Tubbo gives a good morning. “Sorry, it’s busy today, you two can go upstairs, go ahead, your room is pretty much ready.” 

Tubbo gives a nod, and Tommy watches as she runs over to the oven while tugging on a pair of mittens, Ranboo yelling out something about a cake. 

They walk up the stairs, still hearing the commotion of the people downstairs as they make their way to Tubbo’s room, Tommy opening the door and walking in. 

“Well,” Tommy starts, putting the box down on the bed. “Here’s your room.”

He looks to Tubbo, who stands in the doorway, face pinched. 

“Oh, don’t start crying-”

“I’m not crying!”

“You look like you’re crying.”

Tubbo laughs, shaking his head and walking in, putting the box down to the side as he wipes at his eyes. “I’m just really happy.”

Tommy smiles. “Good.” 

They hang out for a moment, taking out Tubbo’s clothes and putting them away in a small closet to the side, and Tommy hears Ranboo yell out another order, something about cookies, vanilla.

“How confident are you in your frosting abilities?” Tubbo asks, Tommy actually considering it for a moment. 

“I’d say, an eleven out of ten.” Tommy nods, Tubbo snorting. 

“Okay, sounds like bullshit, but either way, I think we should go help.” 

“I know next to nothing about baking, Tubbo-” Tommy tries to say, but he’s already getting dragged down the hallway by the hand, and Tubbo yells out that they can help, and Niki just throws aprons at them when they walk into the kitchen, seeming to trust them with basic tasks. 

At the very least, Tommy knows that he's good at mixing shit with a whisk, and that’s good enough for him. 

---

Tommy and Tubbo end up baking for the entire day, and while the morning does eventually calm down, it doesn’t make the baking part any easier. Tubbo’s shit with recipes, seeing as he has trouble in general with reading, and Tommy is just bad at staying focused.

But they do end up making a whole batch of cookies that are only slightly crispy, and Niki claps her hands together as Tubbo places them onto a plate.

Ranboo actually does end up setting the oven on fire not once, but twice, like Tubbo said he’s prone to do, and Tommy’s a little impressed at how swiftly Niki puts it out, as if this has become routine. 

The hours pass, Tommy gets used to the sweet smell of the bakery, and the customers come in every now and then, dwindling as the sun goes down. 

Eventually, curfew comes by, and Tommy has to say bye. 

He stands by the doorway of the front door, Tubbo holding the door open. Tommy holds a bag of cookies in his hands, a bit burnt, a bit messy, but still edible, and not bad for their first day. 

They talk even as the night gets colder, and the plaza has gone quiet, street lights dimly lighting up the empty place, the stores holding warm lights from the people inside. 

Eventually, they both just stand there, Tommy just outside, Tubbo lingering in the doorway. 

“...I’m gonna end up passing curfew, at this point.” Tommy mumbles, fiddling with the bag in his hands. 

“That would suck.” Tubbo hums, but they still don’t move. 

Tommy stares down at the cookies in his hands, and thinks about how this is probably going to be the new routine now. He wonders if this means he’s going to end up being somewhat better at baking by the end of the month. Maybe him and Tubbo can bake a cake for their birthday. 

Tommy sighs, and he decides to take the first step, leaning forward and hugging Tubbo, Tubbo hugging him back without a second of hesitation. 

“I really do need to be going.” Tommy says quietly, Tubbo holding onto the back of his coat with a death grip. 

“One more minute.” Tubbo asks, and Tommy lets it be. He can sprint, he’ll make it. 

A minute or so passes, and Tommy still holds on. 

“...stop being clingy.”

“Fuck you.”

Tubbo laughs, and Tommy lets go, taking a step back. 

“See you in the morning?” Tubbo asks, tilting his head. 

“Yeah.” Tommy nods, taking another small step back, so he can push himself to start going already. “First thing in the morning.”

“See you.”

“See you.”

And he turns around with a wave, Tubbo pulling the door shut. Tommy looks at Tubbo through the glass window of the bakery, then goes into a sprint, running out of the plaza, through the frigidness of the night. 

It’s so goddamn cold, and the snow crunches under his boots as he runs, his throat a bit dry as he breathes in the sharp air. 

He slows down a few minutes in, panting as he walks down dim streets, and he can see a small group of people huddled to the side, not even around a fire or anything, just in the dark, in the cold. 

One of them calls out to Tommy, running out into the street and waving like they’re old friends. Tommy has never seen this guy before in his life. 

“Hey! Hey, kid!” He says, getting in Tommy’s way, and making moves so that Tommy can’t step around him. 

“Sorry, but I need to-” Tommy starts to say, but an arm gets thrown over his shoulders, and he stumbles as he gets pulled along to the side, rather harshly. He notes that the dude reeks of alcohol.

“Come on , help us out a bit.” The man says, and tugs Tommy over to the alley, keeping a smile on the whole time. 

Tommy really isn’t all that surprised when a knife gets flicked open the second he’s near. 

However, they get surprised when Tommy throws a first punch, no hesitation, jabbing someone in the throat with a loud swear that echoes down the street. 

He’s never really been mugged before, thieves are really not that common around here, there’s hardly ever people that bad around. But he’s pretty sure that they’re not going to do anything good, to either him, or any other victims after him, so Tommy shoves the bag of cookies he has in his pocket, dodges a weak kick, and swings. 

He’s so going to miss curfew.

Chapter Text

The thing is, even with the element of surprise, Tommy isn’t exactly the best fighter. Sure, him and Tubbo sometimes mess around, swinging at each other in the morning, laughing and dodging before one of them inevitably tackle the other into the ground, but that’s Tubbo, who’s shorter than Tommy, and honestly, a little weaker. 

Tommy’s full of spite, but he’s young, and he’s going against like four other drunk guys waving around a knife. He’s not entirely sure if this is a fair fight, but fairness isn’t what’s running through his mind when he jabs the closest guy to him in the throat, with a loud “MotherFUCKER-”

The guy chokes and sputters, falling to the ground, and Tommy sends a kick right across his face, watching as the knife clatters to the ground, forgotten as yells raise up. 

Arms wrap around him to try and hold him in place so the others can get a hit in, but Tommy just leans back and swings his legs up, slamming a foot into someone’s chin, before landing his feet on the alley wall and pushing, getting let go and dropping to the ground. 

“Get him!”

“Oh, that brat broke my jaw-!”

Tommy groans as he lands harshly on the cold ground, his shoulder yelling in protest, then he quickly rolls to the side as a boot comes flying down to where his face was just a moment prior. 

 He tries pushing himself to his feet to make a run for it, but his ankle gets grabbed and he falls back down, getting dragged across the floor, kicking with his other leg to get them to let go. 

“I WILL BREAK YOUR GODDAMN ANKLES-” Tommy yells, kicking at someone’s shin with every word. 

He slams his foot down particularly hard, and he scrambles to get to his feet, only to get punched across his face and pushed into a wall. Tommy stumbles on his feet, raising his arms to block as he sees a guy get into a stance in front of him, the others circling around, cheering on. 

Tommy waits for the other guy to punch first, then he leans to the side, his fist connecting with the wall instead as Tommy knees him in the gut, then books it out of the alley, screaming.

He feels the ground sway under his feet, and he tries to brush away the ache running through his shoulder, blinking away the pain and instead sprinting down the street, trying not to trip, turning his head backwards to find that he’s getting followed. 

Holding a hand to his mouth, which stings from being hit, he keeps running, hearing yells and swears behind him, and he just raises a hand up and flips them off, before running even faster. They scream in offense at it, and Tommy gets hit in the head with something flying through the air, wincing as he tries to not stumble, moving his hand from his mouth to his head. 

He’s not even sure where he’s going, his throat burns with the night cold, and he’s going down an unfamiliar street, running past buildings who’s lights turn on as Tommy runs past with a bunch of drunk yelling men at his heels. He can see some people actually wake up and lean out of their houses, curious and slightly concerned. 

Looking at his hand for a moment, pulling it away from his head, Tommy makes a face at the small bit of blood on his palm, before turning his head back around, still running while yelling at the guys following him. 

“Fuck you!” One of them yell.

“Fuck you !” Tommy responds, eloquently, and turns at a crossroads, snow getting kicked up as he skids across the stone path, nearly falling over in his haste. 

Another rock gets thrown his way, and Tommy ducks, then trips, rolling in the snow and groaning. For a second, he thinks he’s about to get absolutely beat up, but there’s people coming out of the buildings down the street, yelling in concern. 

Someone yells for guards, and Tommy rolls over, holds his hands to his head, then passes out with the image of seeing one of the drunk guys get tackled by a civilian. 

Street brawl, Tommy thinks, before slipping right into unconsciousness. How fun. 

---

Tommy stirs for a moment, blinking his eyes open to the sound of a horse whinny, and he squints through the dark just long enough to make out that he’s on a cart or something, people talking amongst him, before his head hurts again, and he decides he’s not dealing with this, and passes right back out. 

“Yo, is he okay?” Someone says, Tommy groaning and squeezing his eyes closed, because those are not voices he recognizes, but he knows the tone of a slightly disappointed adult. Did he get dragged along with the drunk guys to the police? He got dragged along to the police, didn’t he.

“Uh, he’s breathing?” Another guy responds, voice deep. Someone pokes a finger at his head, hesitant. 

“That’s not what I meant- ” 

Tommy passes back out. 

---

When Tommy does wake up, it’s to a stone ceiling and a very uncomfy surface under him, and for a split second, he thinks he might’ve gotten arrested, and he sits up, eyes wide.

Only to find that, no, he’s in an office of some sort, and he’s on a bench, not a cell bed. Which, reassuring, but not so much, because he has no clue where he is. 

There’s a desk in the middle of the room with papers scattered around, some shelfs to the side with a bunch of books, files, folders. A small window on the wall tells him that it’s morning, with the sunlight coming through. 

His coat is nowhere to be found, and he sits up, swinging his legs onto the ground, and debating on going for the door, where there’s some voices coming through. 

Just as Tommy’s about to get up, the door swings open, someone walking in as they yell to someone else in the building. 

“No, Fundy, keep those two apart, they’re going to-” The man stops in his tracks, looking to Tommy with wide eyes, Tommy looking back with the same surprised expression. “Oh! You’re up.”

“Uh.” Tommy says, looking over the man in front of him, panicking just a little as he sees the light armor over his chest, the Empire’s symbol in the metal. He’s tall, and he has a pair of sunglasses over his eyes as he gives a friendly grin, walking over to Tommy. 

“Morning. Or, afternoon, really, you slept in.” He says, and Tommy shakes the hand offered to him, eyes glancing out of the open door and seeing scattered people, papers being handed around. “I’m Eret. You’re currently at a local precinct, you got brought here after the commotion that was last night.”

“Precinct?” Tommy repeats, raising his eyebrows, looking at the armor on Eret before processing a little more. “Wait, what commotion?” Tommy asks, rubbing at his lip and finding that it stings. 

Memories come rushing back, and Tommy remembers, oh right, punching someone in the throat, getting dragged across the floor, yeah, that’s probably enough to make some people think he’s part of something not good, starting a fight in an alleyway. 

“Ah, well,” Eret starts, twiddling his thumbs together as Tommy looks over his own hands and finds them to be kinda sore. “-according to witness reports, you came running down the street with a bunch of drunk men at your heels, then you passed out, someone tried apprehending one of the men, which turned into a fight, which led to people trying to help out in the fight, which just turned into like, 10 people fighting in the middle of the night.”

Tommy chokes back a laugh, trying to be polite.

“Obviously, there were some complaints. Arrests were made.” Eret finishes, and Tommy notes the way he sighs, half wondering if this guy got any sleep throughout the night. 

“Am I in trouble?” Tommy asks, feeling nervous as he scoots back on the bench. 

“Yes and no? You’re a kid, from what I can see, that’s why I let you sleep in my office rather than in a holding cell. Although, one guy is complaining over you breaking his jaw.” Eret shrugs, Tommy rolling his eyes. 

“I mean, I was getting mugged, it’s justified.”

Eret snaps his fingers, pointing down at Tommy. “Now that’s something they did not mention.” Taking a few steps back and grabbing some papers from the desk, Tommy watches as Eret turns back around, out of the office. “I need to go figure out a few things, do me a favor, stay here, and we’ll get you sorted out in just a bit.” 

Tommy blinks as the door gets quietly shut, and he’s left in the room once again, left with his thoughts. 

Now, there’s plenty of things Tommy could’ve done, should've done, should’ve not done. 

He could’ve sat still. Maybe snooped around in the papers lying around. Maybe, follow Eret out, perhaps? Anything other than look up at the window and go ‘you know what’s a really good idea?’

He goes out the window.

The only thing on his mind is that there’s no way he’s going to let himself get in trouble for getting mugged and also, he had told Tubbo that he would meet him first thing in the morning. 

It’s afternoon, now. Tommy has bigger worries than the guy with a messed up jaw, that is not his concern, even though he’s the one who kicked him. 

So Tommy grabs the chair sitting in front of the desk and drags it over to the wall, climbing onto it and looking over the window, glad to find a latch. He tugs it open and feels the cold air come in, kicking his feet against the wall and crawling out. 

Thankfully, it’s not that much of a drop outside, and Tommy falls into snow, gritting his teeth at the way it sticks to him, Tommy quickly sitting up, brushing it off his shirt. For a second, he wonders who the heck took his coat, and there’s a split moment of panic of Tommy not having the cookies that Tubbo had gifted him last night, but he finds them still tucked away in his pocket, a bit broken, but still good. He moves on to walk out of the alley. 

It leads out into the street, where Tommy walks out into the open, making a face at the snow falling from the sky, wrapping his arms around himself as he looks around. 

“Hey!” He hears, and Tommy looks to the front doors of the building he just came out of, and there’s Eret, seeming to be finishing up a conversation with a civilian at the front doors. “Weren’t you- How did you just-”

“Uh, bye!” Tommy waves a hand, and ignores the yelling that comes back, instead choosing to run down the street. 

He feels panic grow in his chest when he realizes he doesn’t recognize any of these buildings, any of these roads, and not only that, there’s people running after him.

Tommy feels a bit like a criminal on the run, and he probably looks like one, running from the guards as if they’re going to murder him, when really, he’s just lost and not in the mood to get arrested. 

“Wait, kid!” Someone yells, and Tommy does not listen, only runs faster, turns the corner, and goes into the first shop he sees, pulling the door open and slipping inside, sighing at the sudden warmth, a grand contrast from the temperature outside. 

He quickly walks through the building, a quiet mantra of ‘don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious, I am totally cool-’ going through his head. 

He seemed to have walked into a small diner of some kind, and it doesn’t seem to matter that he came inside in a rush, because most of the people in here are distracted and huddled by the corner, at the side. 

The place is lit up warmly, candle light overhead, and there’s wooden tables here and there, mostly empty, so no one notices Tommy sitting himself down in a chair, eyes glancing out of the front windows, watching the guards pass by, confused and panicked. 

Cool, so he’s lost them. 

He looks around the place some more, seeing a bar at the end of the diner, some people scattered around, quiet amongst themselves, and a small crowd of people around a table at the corner, invested in their conversations. Tommy can see three different servers sitting down there, and he wonders what could be so interesting that they’re not even doing their jobs.

Looking around some more, trying to shove down the feeling of being lost, Tommy rubs his hands up and down his arms, trying to get off the chill of outside, and he looks from table to table, to the few people who are in their own conversations, having a meal.

There’s a shady guy with a hood giving looks over to the corner, fidgeting and serious, and Tommy looks back at the busy table, trying to see who he’s glaring at. 

He doesn’t get a chance to really spot anyone important though, because the guy gets up from his seat rather suddenly, then starts to walk over to the table, and Tommy gets up too, not quite sure why he did, before seeing a small glint of light in the man’s hand. 

There’s a split second of Tommy wishing this morning was a lot calmer than it actually is, then he brushes off the thought and rushes forward, eyes going wide as he realizes, yup, that’s a knife. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Tommy yells, quickly making his way over, and the conversation at the table stops, heads turning over to him, but it doesn’t seem to deter the guy with a literal knife, so Tommy grabs a plate off of a passing table, then runs, ignoring the way a chair hits into his hip as he rushes forward-

 “He’s got a knife!” Tommy yells, then sends the plate flying, watching as it shatters against the guy’s head, making him stumble back. 

People are getting to their feet, and there are screams of surprise as the knife gets spotted. Someone immediately runs out of the diner, and Tommy feels a little glad that he’s dragged along some guards outside. 

Tommy grabs another plate and sends it flying as people start yelling, trying to push someone outside. 

“Phil, go, quick-!”

“Hold on, wait-”

The second plate just smashes into the wall, but Knife Guy seems to be annoyed enough with Tommy and moves towards him, Tommy scrambling to crawl under a table to get away. 

He goes to try and crawl out to the other side so he can run, but his ankle gets grabbed at the last moment, and he screams as it gets yanked, Tommy grabbing onto one of the legs of the table to avoid getting dragged out. 

Kicking the hand off, Tommy turns around and scoots back to watch as the guy gets slammed backwards, falling into some chairs behind him. 

Crawling out from the other side of the table, Tommy gets to his feet to see Eret and some others come in, as well as seeing people try and shove Phil away from where there’s a fight going on. Tommy takes the distraction and runs over to a side door, by the bar. 

“Phil, go, get out of here-” A server insists, Phil stammering and watching as a chair gets thrown to the side. 

“Look, the guards are here, thank you for visiting, please, for your safety-” Someone else says, and Phil tugs at the thin grey cape around his shoulders, smiling. 

Tommy glances back as he pushes the door open, and he locks eyes with Phil from across the diner for a split second, freezing as Phil blinks at him, still surrounded by worried people. 

“Actually-” Phil starts, as Tommy quickly runs outside to the alleyway beside the diner. “Why don’t I go out the side door, so I can make my way back without much attention?”

Tommy doesn’t hear Phil, and doesn’t hear the agreeing responses, only goes outside and shutting the door behind him, leaning onto the cold brick wall and sighing dramatically into the chilly air, rubbing a hand over his face. 

He flinches at forgetting that his face is kinda fucked up, or at least bruised, and he takes his hand away, instead poking at his head, wondering if he did get a cut from last night, with a rock getting thrown at him and all. 

His heart is still racing, and Tommy sighs again, groaning into his hands as he tries to wrap his head around everything that’s happened so far, and where to go from now on. Tubbo’s probably panicking, with Tommy not meeting with him yet. Tommy isn’t entirely sure where he even is, because he’s never been to a precinct in his life, and the streets around him aren’t familiar. 

Taking a deep breath in, Tommy straightens up, trying to calm himself. 

Then the door swings open and Tommy debates on starting to sprint away, again, but it’s just one person with worried eyes and a familiar face, and Tommy pauses, standing still. 

“Oh.” Phil says, closing the door behind him, turning to Tommy. “You’re still out here.” He grins, and Tommy stares, taking a small step back, tilting his head to the side as he looks to the hat on Phil’s head, confused at where he’s seen this before. 

Phil looks back at Tommy, and his eyes go wide, taking a few steps forward as Tommy stumbles back a little. “Your face! Wha- Did you get that from inside-?”

“Ah, no.” Tommy shakes his head, still confused as to why this guy’s face is so familiar, and he wraps his arms around himself, trying to go for a hesitant smile. “This is just from last night.” He blurts out, realizing a second after that isn’t really making his situation better. 

“Last night?” Phil repeats, and Tommy shakes his head, taking a step back. 

“Yeah- uh, you know, I’ve just been busy, I should probably go…” Tommy starts to say, taking a step back, but Phil’s face goes stern, and Tommy gives up on running away, feeling like he’s getting scolded. 

“Where are your parents?” Phil asks, looking over Tommy again, frowning at noticing he doesn't have a coat for this type of weather, and he tugs off the grey cape over his shoulders. 

“Well, don’t have any.”

“You don’t have any? You’re out on your own?” Phil’s eyes soften, and he goes from stern to concerned in seconds.

“No! I’m just-” Tommy clears his throat. “I was just going to go visit a friend, right now, I’m not out on the street, if that’s what you’re thinking, I have a home, it’s just been a busy morning, or, uh, afternoon, so-” 

Tommy goes quiet when Phil holds out his cape, and he takes it from Phil without another word, holding in his hands for a moment, before realizing, wait, he just handed over his cape-

He tries to hand it back, and Phil refuses, grinning. “Don’t worry. I have plenty. You should stay warm, out here.”

Frowning a little, Tommy goes to insist, because he doesn’t want to just take something, but he pauses as seeing something shift behind the man’s back, and he leans to the side, eyes going wide when he sees feathers. Tommy stands up straight, staring at Phil, and he realizes why that face is so familiar, why he feels like he’s seen him before. 

“Holy fuck.” Tommy says, without thinking, and Phil snickers, holding a hand over his mouth, and Tommy slaps a hand over his own mouth, trying to not stare at the wings on Phil’s back, because holy fuck, this is the ruler of the empire, Tommy just swore in front of the fucking Emperor-  

“Oop, sorry, I’m Phil. Didn’t introduce myself.” Phil grins, and Tommy squeezes the cloth in his hands, trying to not panic, for like the third time this morning. 

“Tommy.” He stammers out, feeling his heart drop, because oh no, the Emperor followed out into the alleyway, probably to talk to him, oh he’s so dead- “My name is Tommy.”

“Nice to meet you, Tommy.” Phil nods, and he glances to the door beside him, voices coming from the other side. “I wanted to say thanks, for what you did in there, that was pretty brave.”

“He had a knife, I-I just thought…” Tommy trails off, words failing him. 

“Yeah, he was probably going for me. Not so terribly uncommon, unfortunately.” Phil shrugs, in a sorta ‘what can you do’ manner. Tommy feels like he’s about to die. “Are you alright, though? You seem a bit roughed up.” 

“I’m good.” Tommy croaks out, tugging at the cape in his hands and pulling it over his shoulders, trying to ignore the way he’s screaming internally that the emperor just gave him his cape, holy fuck, this cape belonged to royalty- “I, uh, really do need to go, right now, thanks for the cape, and uh-”

“It’s nothing, mate.” Phil reassures, and he gives a warm smile, Tommy returning it without a second thought. “See you around, maybe? I visit sometimes, in this town.”

“Yeah, yeah, maybe.” Tommy nods, then steps around Phil, ignoring the way he nearly stumbles and he goes into a run, out into the street, and away. 

Phil watches him go with curious eyes, and for a moment he thinks about following, before deciding that he should get back to the castle, and he spreads his wings out in the alleyway, flying up into the air. 

---

Techno opens his eyes to a weight sitting on his shoulder and the blanket being stolen, and he groans quietly in annoyance. He closes his eyes again, sighing. 

“Shuddup.” Wilbur mumbles, even though Techno hasn’t even said anything. 

“Get off me.” Techno responds, tilting his head, his chin resting on Wilbur’s hair, and Wilbur just throws an arm over Techno and holds on, hugging him like an annoying octopus. 

“You get off.” Wilbur says back, and Techno opens his eyes again, huffing at the light pouring in from the window, the way the room runs slightly cold. The fireplace at the end of the room isn’t burning, and Techno tries to remember if they forgot to put wood, for last night. 

“You’re the one on me .” Techno grumbles, and Wilbur raises a hand up and pats him on the side of the head. Techno looks over Wilbur’s head to find that, yup, he stole the blanket. 

“And you’re the one who crawled into my bed, waking me up at a ungodly time of the night, so shut up.” Wilbur says, and Techno just sighs when the arms around him tighten. Looking around the room, Techno does note that this is Wilbur’s room, with the guitar in the corner, and lack of swords hanging up on the walls. 

He faintly remembers waking up last night to his head being too loud, stumbling down the hall and letting himself into Will’s room, yanking the sheets off of Wilbur. 

He remembers Wilbur complaining, but still letting Techno stay, and the humming letting him fall to sleep as Techno held onto Wilbur like a lifeline. 

Wilbur hums the same notes now, fingers picking at the pillow under Techno’s head, and Techno looks back over to the window, noting the dim sun and the light snowfall, and his internal clock tells him they’re a bit late for morning. 

“Alright, get off.” Techno says, nudging Wilbur in the head. He looks down to Wilbur’s hair, noting that there’s just the slightest bit of his pink roots showing up. He probably has to re-dye it already.

“But I’m comfy.” Wilbur insists, voice muffled with his face in Techno’s shoulder. “Ten more minutes.”

Techno rolls his eyes. One way or another, they’re going to have to wake up, Phil is going to come back from visiting the town soon, and if they’re both not up, they’re going to get a teasing remark about sleeping in late. “We slept in enough, Phil’s gonna-”

“I can’t hear you, I’m asleep.” Wilbur responds stubbornly. 

“Wake up.” Techno deadpans, already making a mental list for today. He wants to spar in the training grounds today. His head is quieter than last night, but it’s still a bit worse than usual, and he needs to blow off steam. 

“No.” 

“I’m going to push you off if you don’t wake up.”

“ No- ”

“One.” Techno starts. 

“Techno, I am comfy- ”

“Two.”

“If you push me off, I’m gonna-” Wilbur tries, and there really isn’t much he can threaten, so Techno doesn’t even let him finish. 

“Three.” Techno says, and then he pushes Wilbur off the bed, Wilbur screaming. “Good morning to you.” 

---

They eventually both leave the living quarters, passing by the kitchens to get some breakfast, then the two of them go over to the training grounds, Wilbur insisting on coming along when Techno said he was itching for a fight. 

“You want to spar?” Techno raises his eyebrows, Wilbur quickly shaking his head. 

“Uh, maybe later. I just want to watch.” Wilbur laughs, and Techno just smiles, because he’s going to end up dragging Wilbur into a fight, one way or another. 

The servants talk as they pass through the halls, and Wilbur listens in, Techno just looking straight ahead rather than paying attention to that, because Wilbur has more of a knack for figuring out gossip rather than him. 

Once they get to the training grounds, there’s a few royal guards practicing out, and Techno just throws his cape to the side, taking his sword off from his hip. 

“Good morning, your highness. Or good afternoon, rather.” One of them says, Wilbur giving a friendly wave, staying back as Techno ties his hair up. 

“Morning.” Techno gives, then promptly tells all three of them to fight him, at once. 

The guards know Techo well enough to not hesitate, and Techno gets right into it with a grin, swords hitting with a loud clang. 

Wilbur stays busy, and walks around the training grounds, observing the few flowers in pots here and there, and goes to chat with the servants that pass through the nearby halls, picking up snippets, stories, that’s followed Phil, who’s only just arrived at the castle. 

“Did you hear of the attempt on the Emperor’s life earlier?” Wilbur hears, and he quickly joins in, smiling warmly. 

“A what? When?” Wilbur asks, and he gets a quick answer. 

“Oh, your highness! Yes, this morning! A man with a knife, when he was visiting one of the nearby towns-”

“Is he alright?” Wilbur asks, and he quickly gets reassured. 

“Yes, yes, of course, I heard the attacker was apprehended by a child .”

“That’s just a bit embarrassing.” Wilbur mumbles, and he gets smiles in return. 

Wilbur keeps walking around, keeps collecting bits and pieces of the story, and by the time Phil has made his way through the castle, back from visiting the town, Techno’s already wiped the floor with the guards, and Wilbur’s ran over to Techno to tell of what he now knows. 

Phil turns the corner at the hall to see Techno and Wilbur far off, and he walks up to them, Wilbur talking into Techno’s ear as he waves to Phil.

“-so, the kid then smashes a plate over the guy’s head, yelling that he has a knife. Kid is nowhere to be found in the next moments after the guards show up, but Phil leaves soon right after.” Wilbur quickly says, Techno putting his sword back onto his hip, narrowing his eyes to Phil as he gets close. 

“But who’s the kid?” Techno asks, Wilbur shrugging. 

“No clue. No one knows.” Wilbur responds, the two of them looking to Phil, words left unspoken. Phil could know. 

“Boys.” Phil smiles, walking up to them both. 

“You nearly got stabbed!” Wilbur says as a greeting, Phil pausing. 

“Who’s the kid who saved you?” Techno asks curiously, Wilbur nodding very seriously. 

Phil sighs fondly.

Chapter Text

“I take it you’ve heard of my eventful morning already?” Phil grins, pulling his hat off his head. He usually only wears it when he goes off to visit the nearby towns, but when he’s in meetings, in the castle, he wears his crown. Having just arrived, however, he doesn’t have it on him. 

“Yes, yes, assassination attempt number…?” Wilbur trails off, Techno glancing up to the sky with a hum. 

“Four?” Techno asks, only half sure. 

“Four!” Wilbur chimes, nodding. “And we’re only halfway through the year, say, if no one else tries to murder you for the rest of the year, we’ll make a new record.” Techno snorts, Wilbur grinning and throwing an arm over his shoulders. Techno just leans into him. 

“Here I was hoping I could talk about this delicious hot chocolate I tried this morning, rather than the rude fucker who tried to kill me.” Phil smiles, only poking fun. “Yes, there was someone with a knife while I was at a diner or something. They didn’t get far.”

“A kid smashed a plate over his head.” Technoblade says, narrowing his eyes at Phil, as if daring him to contradict what Wilbur’s told him. 

“Yup.” Phil nods, Wilbur raising his eyebrows. He had thought that maybe the rumors got warped. Maybe Phil’s savior was just short. “My rescuer. Although, he was more of a teenager, than a kid, but still. Quite young. And a bit skittish.”

Phil’s mind wanders back to the rushed conversation in the alley. He wonders if Tommy’s at his friend’s place yet or not. He can’t help the tug in his heart, of worry, at seeing the state of Tommy earlier, and he wonders if maybe later on he can find a way to see him again, just to thank him, maybe repay him. He’s sure the kid would appreciate a gift.

“Huh.” Techno only says, Wilbur holding a hand to his mouth as he squints at Phil, taking his words in, processing for a moment, before-

“So you got saved by an actual child ?” Wilbur asks, Phil holding back a snicker. 

“A teenager, Will.” Phil corrects, smiling in amusement, but his words go unheard. 

“An infant!” Techno yells out, Wilbur choking on a laugh, doubling over. “Phil, please, that’s so embarrassing, you had to be saved by a twelve year old-”

“Imagine how embarrassing it has to be for the attacker?” Wilbur chokes out. “Getting fucking owned by a child- ”

“Weeeak-”

“Hah!” 

Phil rolls his eyes, snickering, Techno smiling wide as Wilbur laughs loudly, a few servants turning heads at the three of them. 

“Okay, but, but-” Wilbur waves a hand, gasping for a breath. “Who was he? The kid.”

Phil shrugs. “No idea. Just a passing civilian. Brave kiddo, I wish I talked longer with him.” Phil wonders why Tommy hadn’t had a coat of any sort, outside like that. Maybe he left it indoors? It sounds like a reasonable excuse, and Phil tries to tell himself that’s what it was, but his heart still won’t leave it, and he worries that maybe Tommy had fudged the truth on being out on the streets.

 And it’s not Phil’s worry to care about every kid who’s cold and homeless, he has help in place for that, he can send people to do that for him, but he finds he just...doesn’t really want that, specifically. 

“What’d he look like?” Wilbur asks, leaning forward, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Did you get his name?”

“Was he at least good at fighting?” Techno asks, crossing his arms, Wilbur nodding, wanting to know that one as well. 

“No,” Phil says, to Wilbur, because he knows very well where Wilbur’s questions are going to go, they’re going to end up in him digging into something because he’s bored. “And no.” He answers to Techno. “He threw a plate, then hid under a table. Effective, but not impressive, I’m afraid.” 

Wilbur gives him a face, Techno only nodding, like he knew Tommy wouldn’t exactly be an expert fighter. 

Techno turns his head to Wilbur, who looks back at him, and they have a moment of looking in to each other’s eyes, that weird communication Phil could never quite understand, and Wilbur lowers his chin the slightest bit, Techno tilting his head to the left, giving a half shrug. 

“I’m going.” Techno suddenly announces, looking away from Wilbur, and walking past Phil, to the exit of the training grounds. Wilbur follows right on his heels. 

“Ahem.” Phil turns, crossing his arms, and the twins pause, glancing to each other again, before slowly turning back to Phil. “Where to, exactly?”

“Uhhh,” Techno trails off, his ear flicking for a moment as he thinks. “The library.” 

“Yup, we’re going to go research all the other fun times you nearly got killed.” Wilbur adds on, voice upbeat, and Phil just smiles, because, sure, they could be doing that, or they could be planning trouble. 

Ah, who is he kidding. They’re both planning something. He knows from the way Techno’s given a lie, and from the way Wilbur added on to try and cover it. 

“And to go prepare for your afternoon lessons too, I hope?” Phil grins, Wilbur making a face. Their classes start in about an hour, and the reminder is a silent warning to behave. 

“Yes.” Wilbur grumbles out, turning to Techno, who seems perfectly okay with lessons. He always is, Techno is always at the top of his marks, never lost. And while Wilbur is the same, Wilbur just has a bit more of a habit of getting off track, and once he gets Techno in on goofing around, rather than studying, there’s no hope for either of them in making them go back to their books. “But, it was nice seeing you, we’re going to go dig through some bookshelves-”

“I could walk with you.” Phil suggests, taking a few steps forward. “I don’t mind spending a bit of time with you two before I go work.” That, and he’s pretty sure they’re both planning something. 

Wilbur opens his mouth to interject, but Techno beats him to it, waving a hand as Wilbur grabs him by the arm, slowly moving them both away from Phil. “Nah, you don’t have to, we gotta go be nerds in peace, dad, I’m pretty sure you have a meeting in like ten minutes-”

Phil holds a hand to his heart, standing still with a smile. It’s not rare for the boys to actually call him dad, in every way, he is their father, but they’ve also gotten the habit of calling Phil by his name, instead. And everytime they do say ‘dad’ it still tugs at his heartstrings, even after all these years. 

“Yup, what he said𑁋 bye!” Wilbur says, then breaks into a run, dragging Techno with him, the two of them running into and down the hall. 

Phil just watches them go, shaking his head. He does hope they don’t skip their lessons. Then, he’ll actually have to step up, but right now, he’s sure they’re just going to go poke around, ask around. 

He fidgets with the hat held in his hands, and goes off to get ready, to change into some less casual clothes so he can get back to the busy work that goes on, for being an emperor. 

---

An hour and a half later, Phil’s in the middle of a meeting, a guard leaning in beside him and telling him quietly that the princes have ditched their afternoon classes, instead sneaking out of a window to a nearby town. 

It might’ve raised alarms, with the two of them doing that, but they do things like that often enough that the guards know to just watch and wave, because if they get in the way, Technoblade will take it as an invitation to spar, Wilbur yelling out encouragement on the sidelines. 

Phil smiles, knowing he’s going to have to ground them when they come back, and he's about to just decide on that, waiting for the two of them to return, so he can chew them out, but he pauses, as he realizes why exactly they’re going to the town again. 

For Tommy, he realizes, and he pauses, tuning out whatever his advisors are saying, as his mind wanders again, to that kid. He can’t shake the thought of him off, and Phil swore, swore to himself, he’s not going to get carried away, he has enough duties as it is, he can’t go worrying over other children-

He gets up to his feet abruptly, pushing his chair back with a screech, and everyone quiets. 

“Uh,” Someone says, as Phil stares at the table under his hands, wanting to sigh. “Your Grace?”

“Push back this meeting for an hour, please?” Phil says, giving a warm smile, walking towards the door. “I’ll be right back. Just need to go check on something.” And he’s gone, no one saying otherside, because really, you can’t stop the emperor when he’s on a mission, with that look in his eyes. 

---

Tubbo wakes up to Niki calling him from downstairs, a knock at his door. 

“Tubbo?” Ranboo says from outside, Tubbo groaning, turning over in his bed. “Wake up! I thought you were going to go off and hang out with Tommy today?”

Tubbo’s eyes snap open at the mention of Tommy, and he’s only slightly thrown off by the fact he’s in his own room, and he looks to his side on habit, checking for another bed. There isn’t one, and Tubbo blinks, chasing away the pang of sadness and instead yawning, groaning loudly and shoving his face into a pillow. 

“Okay, well, you sound awake.” Ranboo says through the door. 

“What time is it?!” Tubbo whines, sitting up in his bed, running his hands through his hair. He’s not sure if Tommy is going to come over here, or if he’s going to go to Tommy. 

“Uh, like, 12 or so?” Ranboo answers, and Tubbo freezes, holding back another yawn. He practically throws himself off the bed, stumbling in his haste to throw on clean clothes, and he makes his way to the door, swinging it open to find Ranboo, jolting as Tubbo ducks under his arm, running down the hallway. 

“Gotta go!” He yells out, not hearing what Ranboo says back, because he’s already down the stairs, walking through the kitchen-

Only to have Niki step into his way, holding her hands out. “Hey, hey! Good morning?” 

“Hi.” Tubbo smiles, feeling warm, and not just because of the current ovens baking treats around them. “Morning.”

“Off to go run with Tommy?” Niki asks, raising her eyebrows, walking back over to the counter, where she’s rolling out dough. “Eat something first.”

“Can’t I just grab a muffin and go?” Tubbo asks, going over to a case where some of the orders are held. The bottom shelf holds extras, he was told that a little while ago. He’s free to grab whatever’s there, as long as he doesn’t mind the occasional burnt pastry. 

“You can, but grab one for Tommy too.” Niki smiles, and Ranboo comes down the stairs, Niki waving him over for him to take over with the rolling pin. She pats her hands on the apron around her waist, going over to grab a napkin, to wrap the muffin for Tommy in. Tubbo gives her the extra muffin, and she tells him to go grab a coat. 

Tubbo runs up the stairs, chewing on bread, half wondering why Tommy hasn’t gotten here yet. Maybe the caretakers got paranoid with Tubbo no longer being his field trip buddy. Maybe he did get back late last night. Oh, that would suck. But Tubbo wouldn’t mind hanging out with Tommy while he’s stuck with chores. 

He comes back down the stairs with a new coat on, and Niki hands him a wrapped muffin, gives safe wishes, and he’s out the door, running down the street, towards a place he called home just yesterday. 

When he gets there, it’s general chaos, as always, with kids running around, screaming and being loud. It’s comforting, in a way. 

But the face he gets when he asks for Tommy, it makes him ignore the kids yelling entirely. 

He asks for Tommy. He only gets strained smiles, shocked realizations. 

He runs to Tommy’s room, their room, once. The bed is empty.

Tubbo leaves the muffin on Tommy’s pillow, then runs .

---

“He never got back!” Tubbo yells, swinging the bakery door open, panting from running across town, eyes glassy. “I went to look for Tommy, they didn’t have him, he wasn’t there-”

Niki is tending to a customer, and she completely drops them as soon as Tubbo comes in looking near tears, actually jumping over the counter to get to Tubbo. She tells Ranboo to close shop, as Tubbo shoves his face into her side. 

“What? What do you mean-” Niki tries asking, Tubbo shaking his head, feeling himself get led over to behind the counter as Ranboo politely tells people to get out. 

“I should have just made him stay here! He would have been in so much trouble, but right now I don’t even know where he is-!” Tubbo cries out, voice muffled as he wraps his arms around Niki’s waist. 

“Tubbo, please.” Niki says softly, pulling him off, kneeling down, grabbing Tubbo’s face. “Breath, calm down. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Tubbo shakes his head, and he’s not sure when he started crying, but he’s pretty sure it started when he realized his best friend was nowhere to be found. 

“Tommy’s gone, he’s gone.” Tubbo says, sniffing loudly, before wiping his hand at his face. “He never got back after last night, I asked over and over at the orphanage, and no one saw him come back, they don’t know where he is-”

“But they’re looking for him?” Niki asks, moving her hands to Tubbo’s shoulders, squeezing tight. 

“Yeah, they are, but they still don’t know where he is! They’re going to go to the police in a bit, but that’s in the next town over-!”

“Tubbo.” Niki says, calm. “It’s alright.”

“No it isn’t! Tommy is probably off in a shady alleyway somewhere, doing who knows what!” Tubbo yells, throwing his hands up. It’s not that he’s worried Tommy’s been kidnapped (he’s too loud and stubborn for that), or like, murdered (would probably take the murderer down with him, to be honest), it’s that Tommy has a shit sense of direction, and a habit of making situations go from zero to like three thousand in two minutes flat. He’s going to be a mess when he gets back to Tubbo probably, and then Tubbo will personally throttle him, for Tommy daring to give him a heart attack. 

“What would he even be doing in an alleyway?” Ranboo asks, Niki giving him a look, because, really? That is not the question to be asking right now-

---

Phil flies carefully above the town, careful to stay hidden in cold clouds, careful to move from roof to roof silently, as he trails his boys below, who are moving across the street, clearly busy in their goal. 

His first thought was to go check on Tommy, see how he’s doing, even if he barely knows the kid, but he has no idea where Tommy might even be. But Wilbur and Technoblade are on their way to figuring it out, seeming set on spending their time on tracking down the kid who saved Phil by chucking a plate at someone’s head. 

They go to the diner first, the one Phil had been at, and they ask around, Wilbur bright and chipper, always more advanced in getting information through polite chatting. Techno is more of an intimidation type of guy, and he sticks to Wilbur’s side awkwardly as Wilbur slowly feeds in questions, slowly gets a description of Tommy. Phil says sitting on the top of a building, wings stretched out behind him. 

They move out of the diner, to down the street, and they go from shop to shop, asking for anyone who might’ve spotted him, and Wilbur’s easily finding what he wants, oh, yes, blond kid, blue eyes? Maybe ran around here? Yeah, he’s a kid we’re babysitting, he kinda ran out from under us, man, teens, you know? Cue a strained polite laugh, Techno giving a judgmental look. Wilbur trying to elbow him without the person in front of them noticing. 

Techno seems bored through it, and Phil’s glad with the way of how easily they blend in with the crowd. Their faces aren’t as well known as Phil’s, and they don’t really go out of the castle publicly, which lets them walk around in broad daylight, with no one any the wiser that they’re the two princes of the empire around them. 

Phil moves from rooftop to rooftop, observing like a bird, almost, just watching, curious and amused as the two of them keep moving, tracking down where’s Tommy’s gone, until they finally get a last clue, Tommy having apparently gone off into an alley with a bunch of older kids, who dragged him around like he could be a new friend to tease. 

Phil jumps and flies to the top building beside the alleyway, kneeling and peering down, not being noticed as Tommy deals with three other annoying older teens trying to get a rise out of him. Phil frowns, while Wilbur and Techno hide at the end of the alley, behind a few barrels. 

“Tomathy, my best friend-” One of them say, wrapping an arm around Tommy, patting him on the head. 

“You are not my best friend, stop it, I’m trying to-” Tommy chokes, as he tries to run, only getting yanked with an arm over his shoulders. “-fuck off!”

“Rude! But anyway, you’re funny!”

“Fantastic, I surely needed that input- hey, hey!” Phil itching to jump down as they start rummaging through Tommy’s pockets, snickering as Tommy swears at them. 

“What, what you got in here? You hiding drugs? Oooo, come on, you know I’m just joking- Oh, sweet.” One of the kids holds up a bag of what looks like cookies, maybe, Phil squinting down. 

“Literally!” One of the teens say, Tommy snapping as he pushes overly friendly arms off him, reaching out for the bag.

“That’s mine! Give it back!”

“Relax, it’s just cookies.” They respond, Tommy trying to reach for the bag, instead just getting a back turned to him, the bag getting held away from him. “What flavor are these?”

“Give me the fucking bag!”

“Chill, man, learn to share. Honestly-” Phil’s about two seconds from coming down there and giving them a piece of his mind, before the sound of a fist hitting a face sounds out, and someone screams, high pitched, Tommy socking the kid right across the face. 

“Bitch!” Tommy yells. “I said to give the fucking cookies back!” He yells again, and then emphasizes it with a kick into someone’s gut. The boys try to restrain Tommy, and someone gets hit across the face again, falling to the floor. It’s not Tommy, surprisingly.

Phil glances to Wilbur and Techno, who still hide with wide eyes. They look both concerned and absolutely intrigued, Wilbur more on the concerned side, Techno more being intrigued. Tommy kicks someone’s knee in.

---

Phil ends up flying away as soon as it’s apparent that Tommy isn’t going to need much help, having been fueled with pure teenage rage, and he instead goes over to the local precinct, finding the head guard, who looks like they very much need a nap. 

“Your Grace.” Eret sighs, nodding their head to Phil. “Good to see you alive and well, after, well, you know.”

“I do know.” Phil grins. 

He wants to make sure Tommy’s alright, taken care of, but he doesn’t want to go and pull Tommy up to the castle by flight, he’ll overwhelm the kid, he’s already had an eventful morning, by the looks of it. 

“Do you think you can find the teen who stopped that assassin earlier?” He asks, Eret raising their eyebrows, nodding slowly. 

“Ah...uh, we’ve been trying.”

“Been?” 

“Well, he’s also more or less responsible for a whole street fight that happened last night, it’s a bit of a mess, he was here this morning, but he climbed out the window and, well, I guess ended up at the diner.” Eret pauses. “I guess it’s a good thing he did that, actually. But seriously, what is this kid doing ?”

Phil shrugs, actually asking that himself. That explains the injuries, and the ‘last night’ Tommy mentioned. “Well, I’m saying put that aside, for him, and instead, when you find him, send him up to the castle for me.” 

Eret looks at Phil like he’s said gibberish, and they stay quiet, mouth stammering as they shift papers in their hands, before nodding. “Uh, sure. Can I ask why, though? If that’s alright, of course.”

Phil hums, then just shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. Eret doesn’t ask anymore questions after that.

Chapter Text

After Tommy successfully had retrieved his cookies, he then went into a full on sprint down the street, ignoring the way his fists absolutely ached, and how his nose was now bleeding. 

A few people called out to him when he passed, obviously worried over a random kid with a bleeding nose just booking it down the street, but Tommy just ran faster, until he deemed that he was far enough for those teens to not follow, and he ducked into another alley, glad to see that it was just empty and cold, some snow piled up to the side, some side doors to the shops around him. 

A stray thought of maybe not going into another alleyway crosses his mind for a second, because with the current track record, he seems to just have bad luck in alleyways in general, but he’s not about to go in some random shop and gather attention over how he’s looking. 

Swiping the back of his hand against the top of his lip, Tommy decides that he can just stick here for a moment, just a few minutes, before anything else. Today has gone very much south, and he’s got no clue where he is, his hands hurt like hell, and also his cookies are all broken, now. 

He swiftly decides that the broken cookies are the worst part of today. 

Opening up the bag in his shaking hands, Tommy ignores the way he wants to lay down into the snow and groan in pain, and instead just shoves a half broken cookie into his mouth, chewing angrily. He wants to go home. He wants to see Tubbo, mostly, he’s sure that when he eventually finds his way back, he’s going to die to Tubbo squeezing him to death with a hug. 

He would do the same to Tubbo, of course, if it was the other way around, which is the only reason why he’s not exactly worrying over his unavoidable death, only eating another cookie, and wiping blood off his lip when he tastes crimson with the chocolate. 

Holding his hand to his nose, Tommy glances at the end of the alleyway, and moves to go further down, where it turns left into a dead end, some garbage bins stacked by the wall. Tommy frowns at the stone wall in his path, then decides to say fuck it all, and sits down in the snow, leaning his back against the wall. 

It’s freezing, and his hands shake from adrenaline, pain, and the chill that’s running through the air. The cape around his shoulders is a reminder of what also happened today, and while that was fucking insane, Tommy’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, because sure, the emperor was cool as hell, but also his face is still rather bloody, and his knuckles just hurt. 

The bag crinkles in Tommy’s hand as he fiddles with it, opening it again and taking a small broken piece out, eating it with a sigh. This morning feels like it’s been too much, and Tommy remembers that it’s not even morning, it’s afternoon, and he eats another cookie. 

A lot of the cookies are just broken bits in the bag now, and it would annoy Tommy, but he’s far too riled up and out of fucks to give, so he just eats them and wishes that he could get back to somewhere he actually knows . 

The rational part of his brain tells him to try and find an adult, get directions. It’s not a childish thing to do, to need help, this morning has been an absolute disaster, at this point, you really oughta get some sort of assistance before you get jumped a second time. 

Tommy notes that the rational part of his head sounds a lot like Tubbo, and there’s a small ache in his heart, as the adrenaline and anger finally starts to simmer down, and he pretends his eyes don’t burn and that his throat isn’t tight as he digs in the bag again for another cookie. 

He’s not crying. 

He isn’t, his hands just hurt. And he just kinda wants to go back to Tubbo. And wants to be somewhere that’s not so cold, preferably. 

Tommy sighs deeply, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them, just giving up and letting himself tear up, blinking the wetness out from his eyes. He’s very tired right now. Part of him wants to take a nap, but he knows he’s going to wake up cold as hell, and that would just be miserable. 

Picking at the end of the cape over his shoulders, Tommy notes the white design at the ends of it, intricate and beautiful. He wonders how much this thing costs , and for a second he’s still in disbelief that him, of all people, is wearing the Emperor’s cloak. 

Well, if anything else, that did happen today. Tommy is pretty sure he’s going to end up getting stabbed later on, with his current luck, but at the very least, he’ll be able to brag to Tubbo about meeting the literal Emperor, and seeing his actual fucking wings, which, Tommy will silently admit, were so, so cool. 

Tommy wonders about how he flies, how it must feel. He wishes he could do the same, actual wings might be useful right about now, flying back to Tubbo would be a breeze. Maybe some other day, but that’s not much of an option for him right now, unfortunately. 

Tubbo’s going to freak when he sees the cape, though. A royal cape, god, Tommy is never letting this thing go. Maybe if he lets Tubbo wear it he won’t get murdered the second he comes back. 

Or not, Tubbo might still be pissed. Overjoyed, very much so, but also Tommy is going to die at the ripe age of 15, just days before his birthday, at the hands of his best friend being in rage that Tommy had been graced with the bad luck of getting mugged. And then starting a street fight. And then running from the police precinct, through the window. And then being chased by guards, and then throwing a plate at a guy with a knife, who was trying to stab the literal Emperor-

Tommy pauses, realizing that he actually saved the Emperor, doing that. Like, sure, maybe the guy would have gotten punched the second he got too close, but Tommy more or less stopped him from causing anything, by chucking a plate. 

Tommy takes it back, this is the best day ever, he saved the Emperor’s life , Tubbo is going to fucking die when he hears about this. 

There’s the sound of voices out in the street, and Tommy tunes back into real life, sitting up. He twists the top of the bag in his hands, and gets to his feet, pushing against the wall and huffing at how he feels utterly exhausted. He needs a nap. He’s going to take a very long nap after this day is done. 

“Tommy?” Someone calls, and Tommy freezes, his hand in mid-air, stopping half-way from wiping at his eyes. There’s someone at the end of the street, and Tommy thinks he knows the voice, but it’s been an eventful day, he’s not that sure. “Hello?” 

Leaning against the wall with a quiet sigh, Tommy decides that if he’s getting mugged again, he’s just going to strangle the mugger, consequences be damned. He saved the Emperor, he’s having a bad day, maybe he can have a pardon for murder.

Pushing himself off the wall, Tommy stumbles over to the corner, leaning out and immediately locking eyes with Eret, who pauses in his steps, making a noise of surprise. 

Tommy stares at him with wide eyes, Eret staring back, and then Tommy turns around and tries to run. 

“Ah, hey, hold on!” Eret yells out, running after Tommy, turning the corner to just find Tommy standing with his back against the wall at the end of the alley, trying to make the most threatening face possible. 

It’s not as effective as he thinks, though, because he’s rubbing at his eyes to get the remains of tears off, there’s still dried blood under his nose, on the top of his lip, and he holds the bag of cookies in his hands like a lifeline.

He’s not intimidating, nowhere near it. He’s more looking like a kicked puppy, if anything, a very kicked, angry puppy, but Eret doesn’t voice his thoughts, only raises his hands out, like he’s trying to calm Tommy down. 

“Hey.” They say, Tommy frowning. 

“What do you want.” Tommy mutters, and he then shoves a cookie into his mouth, Eret resisting the urge to make a sound of pity. “I’m having a very busy day, lots of things goin on-” He says, a hand over his mouth as he chews. 

Eret smiles, and Tommy narrows his eyes, holding up a fist, the bag of cookies in his hand. 

“I just need you to come with me.” Eret says carefully, like Tommy might skitter away somehow if he says it too loud. He’s not entirely wrong. Tommy’s planning on getting past him and making another run for it as he speaks. 

“You’re going to arrest me for getting mugged?” Tommy asks incredulously, chewing at the last of his cookie, twisting the bag closed in his hands. There’s only two left, in the bag, and Tommy’s really doesn’t want to finish them before he can get back. 

“No, that’s-”

“Because that’s a bit fucked up, I’ll admit, I mean, look at me, I’m having a very bad day-”

Eret cuts him off, taking a deep breath in. “You’ve been summoned up to the castle.” 

Tommy pauses. Blinks at him, holding the bag of cookies close. 

“What.”

Eret grins, watching as the wary, hostile fire in Tommy’s posture bleeds away, replaced with shock. “The Emperor came by earlier, asking for you.” Tommy’s eyes go wide. 

“What.” Tommy chokes out, trying to take a step back, his back just pressing into the stone wall again. “What- why?” 

“You were at that incident at the diner earlier today, weren’t you?”

Tommy nods, slowly, realization dawning on him. “Holy fucking shit.” He breathes out. 

“Come with me. There’s already a carriage waiting for you.” 

Tommy looks even more baffled, eyes flicking around the alley like people are going to jump out and say that it’s an elaborate prank, he is actually getting arrested. But nothing happens, and Eret just leans back on their heels, waiting. 

“How do I know you’re not bullshitting me?” Tommy asks, Eret laughing. 

“Believe me, I’m just as shocked as you. It’s not every day the Emperor asks me to escort a kid up to the castle for him.” They take a step to the side, waving an arm out. “But if we can hurry up and go, now, because I’d really rather not make him wait.” 

Tommy feels like sitting down again and shoving more cookies into his mouth, but instead he nods, and walks forward on shaking legs, ignoring the way Eret keeps a light hand on his shoulder, and leads him down the street, where there are at least 5 other guards joining them, apparently all trying to look for Tommy. 

What the fuck.

---

Once Tommy had gone sprinting down the street like death was on his heels, Wilbur and Techno were left to their own thoughts, staring at the kids who were mostly just complaining on the ground, beat up and tired. 

“So, hypothetically,” Techno starts, looking at the kids with an amused look. 

“Terrible idea.” Wilbur immediately says, looking at the kids as well, thinking of how they had been so pushy, before they get smacked across the face by Tommy, who’s apparently got one hell of a temper.  “We are going to get extra grounded.” 

“I wasn’t going to try fighting them Wilbur, damn.” Techno grins, Wilbur raising his eyebrows. 

“Of course, you’re just going to scare the shit out of them.” 

Techno makes a face, frowning. “You say that like I shouldn’t do it.”

“I mean, of course not. We definitely shouldn’t terrorize a bunch of teenagers who just got beat up by a child-” Wilbur waves to said teens on the floor, who are still in the alleyway, sulking and in pain. 

“I liked that, that was funny-” Techno grins, Wilbur holding back a snort.

“And I definitely shouldn’t encourage you to go on right ahead, because that would be bad, and sometimes, I do need to be the voice of reason.” Wilbur finishes, leaning in to Techno with a hand over his heart. 

Techno blinks at him, giving an amused smile. “So?” He asks, Wilbur composing himself, leaning back on his heels and setting back his shoulders, as if he’s about to be responsible. 

“Eh, what the heck, come on.” 

“Yup, that’s what I thought.” 

“Blood for the blood god, channel your inner intimidation, Techno.” Wilbur whispers, the two of them walking into the alleyway, ready to put the fear of god into some teens for the heck of it. 

“That’s not hard.” Technoblade responds, smile going sharp, cracking his knuckles. 

---

About twenty minutes later, they’re on their way back to the castle, having terrorized some teenagers by simply acting intimidating and saying more than a few slight threats. 

“We’re going to be extra grounded, now.” Wilbur notes, holding a hand out to the snow falling from the sky. The castle is rather far, but they’re having a nice walk, and when they get far enough, they’ll pay for a ride on horseback. 

“Why?” Techno asks, picking at the end of his braid, which hangs loosely over his shoulder. 

“Wha- ‘why’ , Techno, I’m pretty sure one of those kids fucking cried.” 

“Eh, I didn’t say anything that bad-”

“You threatened their entire family.” Wilbur deadpans.

“Did I? Or was that you?” 

“No, I threatened their non-existent half cousin.” 

Techno snorts, turning his head to the ground. Wilbur grins. 

“We’ll be fine, there’s nothing to worry about.” Techno waves a hand, Wilbur rolling his eyes. “I mean, we’re still going to get grounded-”

“Oh yeah, definitely-” 

---

Tommy wakes up to an abrupt stop, finding that he's sitting in a comfy seat, voices talking loudly from outside. He looks up to see the inside of a small carriage, simple and neat, and everything catches back up to him as he blinks the sleep out his eyes. 

Right, Eret, the Emperor, the goddamn actual carriage, for Tommy. 

“You got to be fucking kidding me.” Tommy had said, upon seeing said carriage, back at the town. 

“Dead serious.” Eret only responded, with a grin, pushing Tommy along. 

Tommy sits up in the seat, hand digging into his pocket to pull out the bag of cookies, and he debates on grabbing one now, but holds himself off, instead choosing to just hold the bag in his hands as he peeks out the window, catching a glimpse of the huge gates of the castle. 

He knows it’s the castle gates, not from the giant doors, and the guards placed outside, but the flowers that are scattered around on the ground, to the side, colorful and bright. It’s not nearly as much as when the war happened, Tommy’s been told, but there’s still a few, still enough to tell that there’s a crowd who keeps up with this small type of tradition.  

There’s a small sense of panic that creeps into Tommy’s heart, and Tommy scoots back in his seat, trying to take deep breaths. This is totally fine. This is a perfectly normal morning. He’s just getting taken to go see the Emperor, not a big deal. 

Oh, he feels like puking. 

Taking a deep breath in and ignoring the way his heart pounds in his throat, Tommy wipes a hand across his face, hoping that he looks at least a little presentable. Maybe the emperor won’t be that upset over Tommy coming here looking like absolute garbage. 

Although, thinking back to first meeting Phil, maybe he’ll be more worried if anything. He seems like a caring guy. 

The carriage stops again, this time within the walls, and Tommy shifts in his seat, hands curling around the bag in his hand, and he really wishes that Tubbo was here with him right now. He would probably know about this, Tubbo tends to know the strangest information for no reason. He would probably know royal manners and shit. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Tommy turns his head to it, telling himself that he did not jolt, no, he did not. (He did.)

The door opens up and Tommy leans in his seat to see Eret, who gives a bright smile. There’s a gust of cold air that comes in with the door being opened, and Tommy might’ve been a bit chilled before, but now he’s cold . It’s like the temperature has gotten sharper, up here, and he guesses it makes sense, with the castle being up higher. 

“Are we here?” Tommy asks, even though he already knows the answer, but he just wants Eret to tell him something, preferably tell him what to do. It dawns on Tommy that he still isn’t entirely sure why he’s been called up here. 

“Yup.” Eret nods, and he waves a hand for Tommy to come out. Tommy gets up, climbing out the door, ignoring the way Eret holds out a hand to help, and instead goes down small stairs, his feet hitting the light layer of snow on the stone ground. 

It’s freezing, and Tommy wraps his arms around himself, looking around, seeing scattered guards at their posts, a few around him, apparently as escorts, he would assume. 

“Here, come on, let’s hurry and get inside.” Eret suggests, pushing Tommy on the back, and Tommy stumbles forward, nodding. He looks straight ahead as they start to walk, and he looks to the castle before him, head craning upwards as he stares in awe at the tall structure of it all. 

It’s not something Tommy thought he would ever be near, let alone inside, and he offhandedly wonders just how cold it is, all the way at the top.

There’s a few voices, and Tommy lowers his head back down, eyes going wide as he sees Phil coming towards him from the front doors, seeming to want to meet them halfway. There’s a few guards following at his tail, and they struggle to keep up as Phil speedwalks along, waving a hand in greeting. 

Eret and his group stop, and Tommy stops behind Eret, taking the smallest step as to hide himself, trying to compose his interal yelling, because holy fuck, holy fuck , Tommy is literallly on the royal grounds and the Emperor is right fucking there-

“Your Grace.” Eret greets, giving a small bow, and Tommy scrambles to copy. “We were just about to head inside.”

“Oh, I know, I just wanted to meet you guys out here.” Phil grins, and he talks like he’s speaking to a good friend, and Tommy wonders if he’s always this friendly. “I was just relieved you had found him.” 

Phil leans to the side, looking to Tommy, who stares at the ground in a panic, trying to use Eret as a shield. Eret steps to the side though, so it ends up being useless, and then Tommy just panics. 

He takes a hesitant step forward, at Eret’s nod, and Phil pauses, blinking at Tommy, who’s giving a so-so bow to Phil, dried blood still on his face, hands bruised and battered. There’s still the bag of cookies clutched in his hands, and there’s still Phil’s cape over his shoulders. Tommy’s shaking, and he can’t tell if it’s from nerves or from the cold. 

Phil takes one look at him, then turns to his guard, smiling politely. “Push back all my meetings for today.” 

“Ah- Your Grace?” The guard falters, eyes flicking to Tommy for a second. 

“And tell that I am to be left alone, as well, for all of today.” Phil nods, speaking quietly. Tommy looks at him nervously, before keeping his eyes on his shoes. “I’ll be preoccupied.”

“Of course.” They respond, and they go on their way, Phil turning to Tommy. 

“Tommy.” Phil says as a greeting, smiling warmly. “Good to see you again.” 

“Your Grace.” Tommy mumbles, picking at the bag in his hands. 

“Eh, call me Phil, mate, you don’t need to be formal.” Phil shrugs, Tommy nodding once, sharp. 

“Phil.” Tommy repeats, and he still looks so terribly nervous, like he’s about to pass out on the ground right there. He looks overjoyed too, though, a smile pulling at his lips, and Phil grins, before looking over Tommy and deciding that he does really need some healing potions. And a better coat, from the way he’s shivering. Maybe better shoes?

 “Uhm, I-” Tommy starts, pausing. “Hello.” 

“Hello. How are you?” Phil asks, deciding to start off with something easy, just to break the ice.

“Could be better.” Tommy admits, shrugging. “It’s been a long morning, or, afternoon.” 

“It looks like it has.” Phil agrees, humming. “Why don’t we get inside? We can have a medic check you over, for those hands.” 

Tommy glances down at his hands, like he forgot that they were so bruised, and nods again, smiling wide. “Yeah, sure, that’d be nice.”

Phil smiles, stepping to the side. “Come along.” And Tommy goes along, Phil holding a wing out behind Tommy and leading him to the castle.

Chapter Text

The first thing Tommy really notices about the castle is the sheer size of it. 

Tommy will admit, he hasn’t been to many places in the kingdom. Him and Tubbo, while they were fairly chaotic and liked to run around town, never strayed too far, and after the fourth time Tommy got them both terribly lost in unfamiliar streets, Tubbo refused to walk too far from the plaza ever again. 

That’s part of the reason why Tommy did not have a single clue on how to get back home. That, and he has an absolute shit sense of direction. Usually luck was on his side when he was lost, but now he’s farther from his town than he’s ever been before, and he probably couldn’t find his way back on his own even if he tried. 

A cold pang of shock, and then utter doom hits him in the heart as he realizes this is the farthest he’s ever been from Tubbo, before, and he remembers that it’s far past the time that he’s supposed to be at the bakery already. He has no doubt that Tubbo’s ran off to the orphanage to find Tommy, only to turn up with nothing. 

Tommy realizes with a feeling of ‘oh fuck’ that he’s absolutely entirely dead the second he gets back to Tubbo. They’ll both be overjoyed, no doubt, Tommy can’t wait to see Tubbo again, but now his days are very numbered, and at the very least, he’ll go down with a cool story of meeting the emperor. He’s already accepting his fate, he had a cool life, it was good while it lasted.

Phil notices Tommy’s slight face of panic and grim resignation, turning his head to the teen, and Tommy just gives an awkward smile, trying to seem as confident as possible, even with the multiple alarms going off in his head. He’s fairly sure that if Tubbo and him could talk telepathically, Tubbo would be shouting out his eardrums on where the hell Tommy has gone. Oh, he doesn’t want to think about the whole lecture Tubbo’s going to give him when he gets back. 

“You alright, mate?” Phil asks, Tommy clearing his throat, nodding frantically. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” He waves a hand, feeling a wing brush against his back, and he screams internally, but this time in a good way, freaking out because holy fuck, the emeperor has wings, actual out in the open ones, and that’s so goddamn cool . His whole head is just a lot of screaming, really, but Tommy will go on to think that he is being the absolute image of confidence. He’s not. “Eventful morning. Or, afternoon. Day. Busy day, I’ve had a very busy day.” 

“I would think so.” Phil grins, huffing, and Tommy can’t help the way his eyes flick up to the crown on Phil’s head, biting back his tongue so he won’t do something stupid, like swear very loudly in front of the emperor. 

The front doors of the castle are massive, towering over Tommy’s head, and as they go inside, he’s immediately pleased to find that it’s actually warm, a drastic difference from the amount of snow outside, the biting wind that went right through him. 

There are guards at the sides of the door as they walk through, and Tommy stares with wide eyes at the weapons in their hands, at the armor they wear, and Phil gently pushes him along when his steps falter. 

“They’re just there for protection.” Phil says, Tommy nodding, eyes wandering around the hallway as they go down, blinking at the fancy lights that hang overhead. He feels very out of place, with the way Phil beside him is dressed in royal, clean clothes, prim and neat, and Tommy is, well, a mess, really. 

“Protection from what?” Tommy asks. 

“Oh, you know. Assasination attempts.” He says, like he’s talking about the weather, and Tommy chokes back a laugh. Probably shouldn’t laugh at the prospect of the emperor getting murdered. That’s probably bad, he thinks. 

“You have those often?” Tommy continues, in the same casual tone Phil holds, and Phil grins wide. 

“So far, just four this year.” Phil responds, and his tone makes it sound like there’s an inside joke that Tommy doesn’t get. “Counting the one earlier today.” 

Tommy looks at Phil out of the corner of his eye as the hallway opens up to a large room, two large staircases leading up to the next floor. There’s a tall painting hanging up on the wall, at the top of the staircases, visible from over the railing. 

It’s a picture of the royal family, Tommy realizes, as they near the stairs, and he can’t help but stare in fascination and awe, taking in the absolute awesomeness of these people just having a whole ass painting of themselves looking royal and fancy as hell. 

The painting shows Phil sitting in a chair, one leg crossed over the other as he smiles kindly, a golden crown on his head and light blue layers over his shoulders. Two people stand at each side of him, nearly leaning against Phil. They’re unfamiliar to Tommy but dressed similarly, in a way that gives him no doubt that they got to be royalty too, and Tommy promptly remembers that the emperor has sons. 

At least he thinks he does. He’s fairly sure Tubbo’s told him about that before, the princes in the castle. They don’t go out much, though, or at least that's what Tommy is sure of. 

“That’s an old painting.” Phil says, Tommy snapping his attention away from Phil, only to see Phil staring at the same picture, looking fond. “It’s years old at this point, we really oughta have it redone.” 

Phil leads them both up the staircase, and Tommy sticks right to his side, not wanting to somehow find a way to step onto Phil’s cape, or shoes, or even worse, his wings. His luck has been generally terrible today, Tommy’s pretty sure he could manage to find a way to step on Phil’s wings. 

They walk up to the picture on the wall, and Tommy realizes it's as big as he thought it was, probably nearly as tall as him, and he stares at Phil’s face depicted there, before glancing at the actual Phil beside him. 

“Those are the princes, right?” Tommy asks, pointing a finger to Techno, Phil looking away with raised eyebrows. 

“Yup. They’re my only sons, grew up with the empire.” Phil says, Tommy looking again at the two of them, at the way Techno’s bright pink hair stands out, and how Wilbur smiles just barely in a way that’s subtle. 

They all look drastically different from each other, Tommy thinks, save for the matching blue colors they all wear, and the crowns on their heads. Phil has a gold one, in this picture, and Wilbur and Techno wear matching silver ones, not entirely noticeable. 

“That’s Technoblade. He’s a bit quiet, although one hell of a fighter, for sure. He enjoys sparring as a hobby, and he’s quite good at it.” Phil starts, pride in his voice.  

“Bet I could beat him.” Tommy says without thinking, snapping his mouth shut and pursing his lips as he screams internally. 

Phil just laughs, thankfully, Tommy brushing off the slight panic of saying something that might get him thrown out of the castle, because at this point in the day, he really wouldn’t be surprised. 

“He’s more a sword person, although I don’t think you’d do well against him with just your fists either, mate.” Phil says, Tommy feeling a surge of confidence in his chest at the way Phil smiles at him, and he raises his battered fists, grinning. 

“You never know.” Tommy answers, and he would definitely take on this Technoblade dude, no hesitation. Even if he’s the prince or something. “What about the other one?” He asks, nodding his head to Wilbur. 

“Wilbur.” Phil says the name so fondly, and Tommy glances to the face on the wall again, wondering. 

“I could beat him too.” Tommy nods, sticking with his burst of confidence, even if it’ll end badly, because he’s cool. He’ll be cool, and maybe telling the emperor he can totally beat his sons in a fight is not the best way to be cool, but he’ll roll with it. 

Phil just snickers. “He’s not much of a fighter, but he can hold his own against Technoblade, and believe me, just that much is enough to wipe the floor with you.” 

Tommy frowns, Phil smiling. “They can’t be that good.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Phil turns his head to the painting, Tommy looking with him. “They’re twins, did you know?”

“What?!” Tommy yells, taking a step back. “They look nothing alike!”

Phil doesn’t seem to mind the way Tommy’s gone loud, and only goes to point at Techno’s face. “No, they have similar faces, look, see, their noses-”

“His hair is pink.” Tommy deadpans. 

“Wilbur’s is too, actually. He only dyes it like that.” Phil shrugs, and Tommy makes a face at the picture, perplexed, because he thought it was the other way around, Techno dying his hair pink, rather than the both of them having naturally pink hair. “But, no, look at their faces, they still look similar.” 

Tommy squints at the two of them, humming. “I guess so. Kinda.” He tilts his head. The different angle doesn’t help.

“I see it.” Phil protests, looking at the two of them with a face Tommy can’t put his finger on. He sounds so sure of it, and Tommy looks at them again, at the way they look so drastically different, and he guesses their faces do look almost similar, if he focuses on it. He wonders if they tried hard enough, they could switch identities. 

“Come on, you should probably get cleaned up.” Phil says, bringing Tommy out of his thought process, and he goes to walk to the left, down the hall of the second floor, waiting for a second for Tommy to stand beside him again before walking. “I wanted to thank you again, for earlier, at the diner.” 

“Is that why I got called up here?” Tommy asks, Phil shrugging a shoulder. 

“Sorta.” He says slowly, looking ahead. “Question.”

“Hm?”

“Any guardians I should be contacting right now? You did say you didn’t have parents, which, well, I’m sorry for that, but do you have an aunt or something that I could send a message to? I bet they’d be glad to know where you are, after you’ve apparently ran around town getting into fights.” 

Tommy’s mind blanks for a second, and he decides that he absolutely cannot tell Phil about the fact he literally lives in an orphanage. He’s already probably getting pitied from the way he looks beat up from the chaos of today, and from the way he holds Tubbo’s cookies in his hands, and he does not want pity from the literal Emperor. What does that turn him into, then? A charity case?  Would Phil then make a sad face and give him money because Tommy’s a sad orphan who got dropped off at doorstep in the middle of war?

Oh, god, fuck that. 

One thing Tommy knows he would absolutely hate is getting pitied, and only getting kindness out of pity . That would just invalidate this entire meeting, and Tommy can and will walk out of this castle, consequences be damned, if the emperor has only brought Tommy to look nice. 

Part of him knows Phil’s kindness is genuine, and it’s not out of pity but rather compassion, and a sort of thankfulness from Tommy literally saving his life. Another part of him tells him that this might be a whole trick, and it’s going to go up in flames. That might be just the general attitude from the past 24 hours talking though.

“I hope you don’t get into fights this often.” Phil continues, Tommy pushing his thoughts away. “Surely this is just an unusually eventful day?”

“Yeah, more or less. Way too much has happened today, and to be fair, the guys I punched deserved it.” Tommy holds a fist up, Phil glancing down to the cookies held in his other hand. 

“I’ll take your word for it.” He nods. “But also, your guardians? Is there anyone watching over you?” They pause in their steps, and Phil turns to stand in front of Tommy, eyes curious. “You’re not actually on your own, are you?”

“No!” Tommy says, a little too quickly. “No, no, I’m, uhhh...living with my aunt.” 

“Oh.” Phil blinks, quiet for a moment, and Tommy feels like he’s said something wrong, somehow, but then his face shifts into something almost skeptical, and Tommy becomes more worried about being called out in his lie. “Well, that’s comforting. But then, shouldn’t you be home rather than running around town?”

“I have a curfew and shit.” Tommy shrugs, then stumbles on his words. “Ah- sorry.” He says, for the swearing, and he’s honestly not, sorry it’s just that the last thing he wants is to be rude .

“Curfew and shit, huh?” Phil just repeats, with a raised eyebrow and an amused face. He looks at Tommy with something in his eyes, thoughts running through his head, and Tommy nods. “Hm. I’ll talk to your aunt later. Come on. We keep stalling.” 

Tommy ignores the slight panic in his chest and just nods, walking along. 

---

“So, you know your lines.” Wilbur says, Techno fiddling with a ring on his finger, raising his eyes to Wilbur with a face. 

“What lines?”

“Wha- Technoblade . We are going to get so fucking grounded-”

“That still doesn’t explain my ‘lines.” 

Wilbur huffs out a sigh, glancing down the hall to where the two of them are making their way to the dining room, to go see Phil after they’ve returned from basically running out of the castle to ditch class. He didn’t think they would be late enough to the point of coming back just in time to be slightly late for dinner, but they got distracted, and also they found a cool shop with little snacks, and Techno kept poking around, so-

They’re late, that’s the point here. 

“We appeal to Phil’s sympathetic nature by saying we were looking out for him, going to check out who saved him, you know, curiosity sake.”

“That kid was vicious.” Techno snickers, Wilbur holding back a snort. “All for what, cookies?”

“Yes, yes, the kid’s not important, we literally ditched class.”

“So? I’ll just blame you for dragging me away from my studies.” 

“I did not drag you away from anything, you motherfucker, half of this was your idea-”

“That’s not what I remember.” Techno grins, Wilbur punching him in the arm. “You’re the one who wanted to go see the random kid who saved Phil-”

“No, you were the one who was curious on a random kid who took down an assassin by chucking a plate at his head-”

“Well, you were the one who asked around to look for him-” Techno points out. 

“You were the one who went to terrorize the teens after they got beat up by him-” Wilbur counters.

“Okay, sure , but you-”

“No, no, just-” Wilbur waves his hands, the two of them pausing in front of the doors that lead to the dining room. “Forget about the kid. He’s not important, what’s important, is that we’re going to be in trouble when I open this door.” 

“Hm.” Techno makes a face, then pushes against the door, Wilbur pushing as well, opening it to find the familiarity of the dining room, the large table that they’ve always sat down at, plenty of food ready, Phil sitting at the end of the table, in his usual chair. 

Except, on the other side of him, opposite to where Techno and Wilbur usually sit, there’s a new face, and Wilbur and Technoblade freeze in the doorway as two heads turn to him, one looking rather familiar. 

“Boys.” Phil smiles, and it’s more passive-aggressive than anything, but Wilbur brushes it off in favor of him and Techno staring at Tommy, who sits at the table, poking at food in his plate, staring right back. “We have a guest.” 

“Oh, I’m totally pinning the blame for this one on you.” Technoblade whispers, leaning into Wilbur. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Wilbur mumbles back.

Chapter Text

Tommy might’ve been in shock for the first hour or so of being at the castle, which is why he didn’t notice everything about the absolute ridiculousness of his situation, and was able to roll with it. It hadn’t yet sunk in entirely of how he was in the literal royal castle and how he was entirely out of place. 

Phil had walked them along through the hallways, and Tommy could only stare in fascination on how the halls were so long, how far they went. There had to be hundreds upon hundreds of doors they passed, and every few they passed had guards beside them, standing still. Even with how much Phil walked across the halls, they never went too far without seeing at least one person in light armor. 

Which, he guesses makes sense, with Phil nearly getting stabbed this morning. Or is this just how security always is? 

Either way, the guards provide a familiar sight, and Tommy tilts his head back to see lights hanging from the high ceilings, glances down at the nice flooring under his feet, and it still doesn’t quite sink in. 

Phil walks them over to a nice room, with empty beds lined up against the wall, a table to the side that has books and bottles scattered around, and a woman with puffy hair greeting them with a bright smile. 

Tommy gets a new shirt that’s softer than anything he’s ever owned, bandages wrapped tightly his hands, and a literal potion , which he’s only seen like three times in his life before, he doesn’t have the money for this kinda stuff, and yet it still doesn’t quite sink in. 

It’s only when he’s sitting on one of the beds, sipping at a potion that tingles in his mouth and he tunes out of the conversation next to him is when it sorta partially sinks in, and he chokes on the potion. 

He gets hands patting him on the back, and Phil asking him if he’s alright, and Tommy has to nod and struggle to not just panic at the fact that this is actually his life right now. 

----

If it weren’t for the fact Ranboo was able to physically restrain Tubbo from leaving the bakery, he would’ve left and been on the streets until it got too cold to walk. 

Niki had gone to ask questions at the orphanage, (and to grill them for losing a child under their care, not noticing Tommy was gone until Tubbo showed up) and she asked for Tubbo to calm down, and stay home with Ranboo while she did. 

And so Tubbo stayed, crying, mostly, Ranboo frantically just trying to offer all the muffins and cakes they had on display to see if it would help, and Tubbo will admit, after a glass of milk and a cake slice, the situation was better. Not good, no way, but definitely better. 

He was still moping on the counter even after the cake, legs hanging off the edge with a plate awfully close to the edge beside him as he stared at his shoes. He had stopped crying, at least, after a good half hour, and that made Ranboo stop panicking, only for him to panic again over how silent Tubbo was, head tilted down. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.” Tubbo blinked, Ranboo halfway through reaching for another muffin. 

Ranboo just slid closed the display case very slowly, three new muffins in his hand as he walked over to Tubbo. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Tubbo huffs, looking up from his shoes and shaking his head. “I’ve done everything with Tommy for like my entire life! Sure, there’s been some times where we weren’t together , just for a bit, but it’s never been like this. Where I actually can’t get back to him.” 

“Oh, Tubbo…” Ranboo trails off, putting the treats down next to Tubbo on the counter. “I’m sure he’ll be back.”

“Of course he’ll be back.” Tubbo nods, sounding too sure for any other possibility, pushing the plate beside him so it’s not so close to the edge. “But it’s still weird, you know? I’ve never been...without him, is all.”

Ranboo adjusts the mask on his face with tense shoulders, giving a careful pat onto Tubbo’s back. “It’ll be okay. I mean, I’m sure he won’t be gone for too long.”

“But where would he even be ?” Tubbo asks, leaning forward, resting his palms onto the edge of the counter. “We’ve been to the plaza and back millions of times, he wouldn’t get lost.” 

“Maybe he just took a wrong turn?” Ranboo shrugs, holding a muffin up to Tubbo. 

Tubbo takes it, holding it in his hands as he still stares off, thinking. “But even then, he surely wouldn’t have gone far , would he? Unless he did get kidnapped.” 

“Ah, well-” Ranboo waves his hands, a quiet warbling sound coming from him. “Let’s, let’s not get into the worst outcomes.”

“Well, he couldn’t have gotten murdered.” Tubbo raises his eyebrows, saying it like Tommy getting hurt is a stupid idea.

“He couldn’t have?” Ranboo ends up asking, backtracking right after. “No, no, of course not! He’s alive, he’s okay-”

“Ranboo, I have lived with Tommy my whole life.” Tubbo holds the muffin up into Ranboo’s face, Ranboo blinking at him. “I know for a fact he can not get murdered.” 

Ranboo just stares at him, and he nods at Tubbo’s tone, Tubbo nodding slowly back, before taking a bite of the muffin. 

“So he probably got lost.” Tubbo shrugs, looking out the window of the bakery, out into the plaza that’s now a bit more busy, with the time passing. The sign at the door tells that the bakery is closed, and it keeps from any customers entering. 

“I’m sure they’ll find him. They’ll probably send people out, to you know, search-”

“Oh, but that’ll take so long!” Tubbo whines, tilting his head back, Ranboo jolting at his sudden outburst, trying to say something, having it come it garbled as Tubbo goes on. “What if they take too long? Our birthday is coming up!”

“Well, maybe they’ll find him on your birthday! That would be a nice birthday gift.” Ranboo says, holding a finger up. 

“No, other people are going to take forever.” Tubbo frowns, staring at the door. “I’ll do it myself.” He declares, and then hops off the counter, leaving a half eaten muffin behind. 

“Wait, what.” Ranboo asks, then goes to run around the counter to the front door, just barely getting in Tubbo’s way as he’s about to leave. “No, no! Niki said to wait-”

“Niki will understand, Ranboo, I’m going to search for Tommy.” Tubbo waves a hand, then goes to try and step around him. 

“Okay, but, I think it’s safer if you just stay here, and chill, while we wait for Tommy to be found.”

“That’s going to take too long!” 

“Well, you can’t just go running around to try and find him! You’ll probably get lost too!”

“Well, you can just help me. We can go look around together.” Tubbo nods, smiling. 

Ranboo just stares at him nervously, a warbling coming from him as he hesitates, and for a second, Tubbo thinks he might actually be considering it, but then- “Niki said-”

“UHHHGG.” Tubbo almost stomps onto the ground, taking a few steps back. “Well, when is she going to get here?”

“Uh.” Ranboo falters, trying to remember how long Niki said she would be. Or did she even say what time she might come back? Wait, was she going to stop by anywhere on the way back? “You know what, why don’t we just have some cake-”

Tubbo sighs, crossing his arms, then goes into a sprint, trying to go for the door, sliding under Ranboo’s legs. Ranboo shrieks, nearly falling over before realizing that Tubbo is grabbing at the handle of the door, right about to run to where he’ll surely lose him, and-

He picks him up. 

“Wha-!” Tubbo kicks his legs, his feet now no longer on the ground, like they should be. Ranboo just awkwardly rises him up higher, holding him away so Tubbo’s swinging legs won’t hit him. “Ranboo!”

“Tubbo!” Ranboo chimes, laughing nervously, Tubbo swinging his legs even more aggressively, as Ranboo just takes small steps away from the door. 

Tubbo turns his head behind him, glaring at Ranboo, who turns his eyes to the ceiling. “Put. Me. Down.” 

“No.” Ranboo responds, and then walks away from the front door. “Let’s go to the kitchen, actually-”

“No, you-!” Tubbo swipes his hand at Ranboo’s arm, kicking his leg out again, twisting around and trying to be difficult as possible. 

“Listen, Niki said- okay, please stop kicking, you’re going to- OW-” Ranboo nearly drops Tubbo right onto the ground, only shifting his grip instead, trying to hold Tubbo farther away from him. “Did you just bite me?!” 

Tubbo doesn’t answer, only holds his arms out to sweet freedom, the front door that stays out of his grasp, still struggling like an uncontrollable force of nature, and Ranboo wonders if he would even be able to find Tubbo if he got outside. 

No, probably not, he’d lose the kid the second he goes out the door, and Ranboo cannot risk that. Who knows who Niki would react, she’s probably already worried about Tommy suddenly going gone. If Tubbo went missing too, it would go terribly, and Ranboo has no clue on how he would fix that, because when Niki cries, he cries, and that’s just inconvenient all around-

His yanked out of his thoughts at realizing Tubbo’s gone limp in his hands, and there’s a quiet sniffle that reaches his ears, immediately sending Ranboo into a panic.

“Wait, wait, wait, no, no-” Ranboo stammers, a warble coming from his throat as he rushes to put Tubbo down on the counter, only panicking even more when he sees the actual tears going down Tubbo’s face. “It’ll be okay! We’ll find him!”

Tubbo looks up at him, sniffling again, and Ranboo tries to convey a smile through the mask on his face.

“I know you’re worried, but you said it yourself, he’s probably fine! I bet right now, he’s trying to find a way to get back to you, or- uh, at the very least, is somewhere safe. And, and! Just think about when you finally get to see him again! Look forward to that, yeah?” Ranboo nods, raising a hand up, carefully putting it onto Tubbo’s shoulder. 

Tubbo stares at him with a pout, blinking tears out of his eyes, and his head falls forward as he sobs. 

“Oh, no, no-” Ranboo leans down to Tubbo’s level, digging for a napkin or cloth in the pockets of the apron tied around his waist. He finds a napkin, and carefully tries to rub at Tubbo’s face, glad to not have Tubbo push him away. “It’s alright, that’s alright. You can cry. But just know it’ll be okay.” 

“Will it?” Tubbo asks, voice wavering. “I just want to see him.”

“You will! You will.” Ranboo nods, tilting Tubbo’s chin up, dabbing the napkin at his cheek. “It will be okay.”

He really hopes it will be, because he’s got no clue what he’s going to do if it isn’t. He does not have a plan B for that sorta thing. 

Tubbo huffs, biting the inside of his cheek. He knows Tommy is alright. Has to be, really, if he wasn’t, Tubbo can and will learn necromancy for the sole purpose of raising Tommy from the dead, killing him again, and then bringing back a second time for a hug. 

But it doesn’t change the fact that Tubbo still feels awfully out of place, suddenly not having him here, and he’s confused as to what he even does now. He wants to go search for Tommy, wants to run across the streets until night falls and his throat is sore from yelling, but at the same time he knows that Tommy will end up back at his side without him doing anything. 

But it’s still annoying. 

“He better be back in time for our birthday.” Tubbo mumbles, Ranboo laughing. “I swear, if he isn’t.”

“Ah, I’m sure he’ll get back before then.” Ranboo huffs, holding the napkin out to Tubbo, who takes it from him, rubbing at his own face to properly dry it. “It’ll be alright. In the meantime, hey, we can start thinking about a birthday cake? You could surprise him when he gets back!” 

“Surprise him by smashing it into his face, maybe.” Tubbo shrugs, Ranboo choking on a laugh. 

“ Oh- Pfft-” 

Tubbo laughs with him, shaking his head, staring down at his shoes again, and he looks up to Ranboo, who adjusts his mask over his nose, blinking back down at Tubbo, before flicking his eyes to the side. 

“What’s under your mask?” Tubbo asks, holding the damp napkin tightly in his palms, narrowing his eyes. 

“Huh-” Ranboo falters, than waves a hand. “Eh, my face.”

“Can I see?” Tubbo asks, raising his eyebrows, Ranboo humming, unsure. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that one-”

“But Ranboo.” 

“I mean, you just stopped crying, maybe we can-”

“But Ranboo .” 

“Bake a cake or something, I know there’s this one recipe that I’m good at-” 

“Why won’t you let me see your face?” Tubbo asks, frowning. “You’re very nice to me, letting me eat things on display, trying to comfort me awkwardly, giving me this napkin-”

“I mean, that’s just basic kindness, Tubbo.” Ranboo mutters. 

“But you won’t show me your actual face?” Tubbo finishes, frowning even more intensely. “Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you!” Ranboo stammers, a warble coming from him. “I do, really! You’re a good friend, or family, I guess-” He mumbles for a moment. “And I’m sure I’ll trust you even more with time, but it’s not that.”

“Are you just so handsome that you’ll blind me if I see you.” Tubbo deadpans, Ranboo choking on a snort. 

“Pfft- Oh, yeah, yeah, that’s totally it.” He nods, grabbing the half eaten muffin from beside Tubbo, holding it out to him. “It’s just, I don’t want to freak you out so early.”

“What, because you’re a hybrid person or something like that?” Tubbo asks, taking the muffin, just holding it. “Ranboo, I really don’t care. We’re friends.” He hesitates. “Family.” 

There’s a moment of silence between them, and then they both lower their heads, mumbling. 

“Yeah, I’m not used to that-”

“Oh, that’s too much for me-”

“I’m gonna cry again-” Tubbo hits his palm to his face, Ranboo snapping his head up. 

“Ah, no, nope!” He holds his hands out, Tubbo sniffling. “It’s alright! I, uh-”

Tubbo gets an idea. “If you don’t show me what’s under your mask, I’ll cry.” 

“You’ll WHAT-”

He sniffles again, letting tears sit at the edge of his eyes, glaring tearfully at Ranboo as he goes into a panic.

“No, no, no, wait, that’s not fair- Hey, no, don’t cry- Wait, that’s sad- Stop it!” 

He tries to look even more near tears. 

“Okay, okay, fine!” Ranboo says, grabbing the napkin from Tubbo’s hands, slapping it into his face. “I can show you, I just-” He stops.

Tubbo wipes at his eyes, waiting. “What?”

Ranboo takes a deep breath in, holding his hands together in front of him. “I just-” 

“Just, what?”

Tubbo hears a warbling sound, before he speaks again. “I just...don’t want to scare you.” He finishes lamely. 

Tubbo blinks at him, making an unimpressed face. “Really.”

“It’s a valid concern! I’ve had little kids cry at me before!”

“Well, I’m not going to cry!” Tubbo insists, crossing his arms. “Again.” He tacks on. 

Ranboo still doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I still think we should bake a cake.” 

“Ranboooo.” 

“Agh, fine.” Ranboo huffs, reaching up to his mask, pulling the strap off from behind his ears, and after a moment, Tubbo can only blink and stare, because,

It honestly looks so cool. 

Ranboo’s mouth crosses his face, slightly jagged lines up his cheeks in a way that suggest that he can literally unhinge his jaw, and Tubbo can only say-

“You really are like an enderman!” 

Ranboo sighs, either in relief or amusement, and he nods. “Uh, yeah! Sometimes. My mouth kinda...freaks people out sometimes, so I just wear a mask to cover it whenever I’m out so I don’t spook anyone.” 

“Aw, but that’s not fair to you, man.” Tubbo frowns. “Doesn’t it get annoying?”

“Not really.” Ranboo shrugs. “I mean, kinda, but it’s better than getting weird looks.”

“Here, I’ll make a deal.” Tubbo declares, holding out a hand, Ranboo taking it without thinking, then making wide eyes as he slightly regrets his decision in the way Tubbo holds on tightly. “You don’t wear your mask for all of today, and I won’t try and run out to go find Tommy on my own. We don’t even have to go anywhere! Just put the mask away for today, and we can make a cake.”

“Hmm.” Ranboo turns it over in his head, already shaking Tubbo’s hand even though he’s still considering. “You really don’t think I look weird.”

“I think it’s cool.” Tubbo shrugs, and Ranboo blinks at him, a warble coming from his throat before he takes his hand away. 

“Okay.” He chokes out. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah! Let’s make a cake!”

“Yeah!”

---

They end up setting the oven on fire. Luckily, Niki gets there in time.

---

After Tommy gets checked over, feels the effect of the potion wash over him, healing and warm, he’s left with a internal screaming of ‘oh my god I’m IN the castle, and the emperor is just talking to me like we’re good ol pals-’

The potion is cool, though, Tommy’s never really had one before, he’s only seen them being used for other kids in certain situations. Tommy’s never been hurt too bad or gotten sick enough to actually need a potion, although he remembers a certain instance when Tubbo had needed one. 

He had simply gotten too high of a fever, just high enough to become worrying, and Tommy had sat by the bed while Tubbo drank from a tiny red glass bottle, coughing with a sore throat every minute. He had doubted it would work then, even with all him and Tubbo have read about potions and brewing, but sure enough, less than an hour later, Tubbo’s temperature dropped significantly, and he was well enough for the caretakers to stop fussing over him and let Tommy be the main worrier instead. 

 Tubbo had said it tasted like strawberries, although with Tommy drinking a potion himself, he will say that it’s more of a raspberry, really. 

The cut on his lip had faded away into a small mark, that’s apparently left to heal all the way on it’s own, and his hands no longer sting and ache like they did when he came in. The slight bruises and pains he had gotten from the absolute mess of last night and this morning has gone away, and he feels...pretty okay, actually. Now that he doesn’t have any fatigue or pain to worry about, the awe and panic hits him like a train, which turns to him simply agreeing and nodding his head when Phil suggests dinner. 

Well, he won’t pass down free food, unless it’s out of pity, because then that just makes him feel like shit. He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, as Phil leads him through the castle again, Tommy sticking to his side in fear of getting lost, because geez, there are too many turns for him to even think about remembering. Although, Phil lives here, so he guesses that Phil is used to it. 

Tommy goes with Phil to a large room with a big, long table, plenty of chairs beside it and a rather ridiculous amount of food on it. 

Now Tommy will wholeheartedly say that the food at the orphanage? Not the best. It’s good, some days, homey, but sometimes the breakfast tastes incredibly plain, and Tommy would rather run with Tubbo to the plaza to get something better. 

Although, in comparison to this , plates and plates of food laid out on the table, all of it looking better than any meal Tommy’s ever eaten before, it’s just ridiculous. 

“ This is dinner?” Tommy asks, sitting down to the left of Phil, who sits at the very end of the table, folding his wings tightly closed behind him. “This is a shit-ton of food!” Tommy swears, and he would worry about being rude, with swearing, but Phil had straight up just repeated him when he did so earlier, so he will speak how he wants until Phil says something. 

“Well, it’s not just for us. Usually when we’re done, it’s all up for grabs for any guards who pass by on their break.” Phil smiles, shurgging. “But I like to eat with my sons first, family dinner, you know?”

Tommy stares at the empty plate in front of him, silverware beside it, and the words process slowly in his head. “Uh, should I even be here, then?”

“You’re a guest.” Phil waves a hand, serving himself as he speaks. Tommy goes to follow. “You can eat with us.” 

Tommy huffs, grinning nervously. “Sure, Phil.” 

A few minutes later, they eat quietly in peace, Tommy chewing on a piece of steak (which tastes fucking amazing-) as he stares at all the other empty chairs beside him, across from him. 

“Where’s Wilbur?” Tommy asks, Phil raising his head. “And...Technoblade.” He continues, nearly forgetting the name. 

“Hm.” Phil smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and he glances to the door. “They are a bit late. They were supposed to be finishing up class a while ago.” 

“Weird.” Tommy mutters, looking up to the lights hanging from the ceiling, blinking at how fancy it seems. He feels so  out of place and yet welcomed at the same time. It’s jarring. 

They lapse into silence for another minute or two, and the front doors suddenly swing open, Phil raising his head with a hardly surprised look, Tommy turning his head with wide eyes. 

“Boys.” Phil smiles, Tommy flicking his eyes from Phil to Wilbur and Technoblade, back and forth, before taking another bite of his food, because, it really is good- “We have a guest.”

Tommy feels nerves as Phil says that, feeling out of his league again, but he quickly pushes it to the side in favor of being confident, and also because he’s more focused on how Wilbur and Technoblade stare at him as if he’s popped out of a portal from the future or something. 

Technoblade whispers something that Tommy doesn’t hear, and he nearly chokes at hearing Wilbur respond ‘shut the fuck up.’

“So you’re late.” Phil goes on, his fork clinking against his plate, the doors closing behind the twins as they falter at the other side of the dinner table. 

“Phil.” Wilbur says, clasping his hands together, looking nervous. 

“We can explain.” Techno starts.

“Explain what?” Phil asks, glancing at Tommy, giving a smile, and Tommy holds back a laugh, feeling like he’s watching a scolding. It’s funny.

Techno pauses, then starts again. “Wilbur can explain-”

“-oh, shut up-” Wilbur hisses. 

“Tommy, these are my sons, like we talked about earlier. Wilbur, Technoblade.” Phil raises a hand up to both of them, Tommy raising his chin. “Boys, this is Tommy.”

“Nice to meet you.” Wilbur grits out, Techno nodding with narrowed eyes towards Phil, who smiles back without faltering. 

“Hello.” Tommy says, wondering if he should call them ‘your highnesses’, with them being princes and all. “You’re late to dinner.” He says instead, shoving a piece of steak into his mouth. 

Technoblade blinks at him. Wilbur makes a face like he can’t tell if he wants to be slightly offended or laugh. 

“Are you both just going to stand there?” Phil asks, huffing at the way they seem almost skittish, with Tommy at the dinner table. 

“Rude to stare.” Tommy says through a mouthful of food, and Technoblade and Wilbur share glances, before going to sit down. 

They sit across from Tommy, by Phil, side by side. They serve themselves like they’ve done it a hundred times over, and Tommy pokes his food, feeling slightly annoyed at the way they keep sharing glances, looking at Tommy like he’s fell out of the sky, and glancing to Phil like he’s pulling their leg. 

“So.” Tommy starts, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Why were you guys late?”

“Wilbur made us skip class.” Technoblade responds without hesitation, and Wilbur kicks him under the table, Phil snickering. 

“We were busy.” Wilbur tries to remedy, but Tommy just makes a face that could almost be judgemental. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Phil grins, Wilbur and Techno both looking in different directions, away from Phil, who just laughs quietly again. “So busy you didn’t realize there was someone new in the castle?”

“Okay, well, listen, we were off doing stuff, we didn’t expect for you to bring a…” Technoblade trails off. “Child...to the dinner table.”

“I am not a fucking child.” Tommy deadpans, raising his eyes to Wilbur, who just looks back with a thoughtful expression, chewing on his food. 

Then, “Infant.” He says, and Tommy knows full-on that was a jab, with how he grins.

Tommy leans back in his seat, anger simmering in him, and he reaches over to a plate of carrots, throwing one over and letting it land onto Wilbur’s plate, nearly missing. 

“Get some vitamins, your highness , I think your eyes are shit.” He drawls, Wilbur smiling, tilting his head, and Techno looks at Wilbur with a slight shake of his head. Phil just eats his food in peace. 

Wilbur grabs a spoonful of what looks to be mashed potatoes, and flings it at Tommy, having it land just next to his hand, Tommy jerking his arm away from the table. 

He throws another carrot, hitting Wilbur in the arm.

Wilbur sends food right onto his shirt. 

Tommy stands up suddenly from his seat, the chair screeching back, Wilbur leaning forward as if he’s ready for something interesting. Techno just picks up his plate with a slightly worried yet intrigued look, as if he’s saying ‘No. Wait. Definitely don’t do that.’

Phil looks up at Tommy, who narrows his eyes at Wilbur, then looks to Phil with a burning spite in his eyes. “Phil, can I fucking throw something.” He asks.

Phil holds back a laugh, Techno shrugging to himself and moving to go eat underneath the table. 

“Can I. Throw something.” Tommy asks again, simply for the sake of respect, and Wilbur looks so amused, grinning wide. 

“Do it, go, bet you fucking-” Wilbur whispers, Tommy being seven seconds from flipping him off. 

“Sure, mate.” Phil agrees, and Tommy sends his plate flying into Wilbur’s face. 

---

“Oh, weak throw, weak throw-!” Wilbur yells, ducking as a plate goes flying over him, shattering in the back. 

“Careful with those.” Phil says offhandedly, Techno passing him potatoes underneath the table as Tommy flings another plate. 

“Fuck you- ” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Do we have mushrooms, or did Wilbur already use that for ammo?” Techno asks, Phil humming. 

“Already used it.” Phil responds, looking at Tommy from under the table, noting the mushroom slices stuck to his shirt. 

---

About half an hour later, a good portion of the food is scattered across the floor, Technoblade is sitting criss-cross beside Wilbur, who’s face down into the ground, and Tommy is chewing on what looks to be a carrot from underneath the table. 

“Have you both made a truce?” Phil asks, stepping over an overturned plate. 

Wilbur just groans into the ground. Technoblade pokes him in the back of the head. 

“You know, I think I won.” Tommy nods, looking at Phil, and Phil laughs.

Chapter Text

“It was more of a tie, really.” Technoblade mutters, leaning an elbow onto his leg, his face resting against his palm. Tommy narrows his eyes at him from under the table, but Techno hardly notices, instead picking a piece of food out of Wilbur hair. 

He makes an annoyed face at his hand getting dirty, then goes to wipe it onto Wilbur’s shirt, ignoring the way Wilbur tries to swipe at him, rolling away. 

Wilbur sits up from the floor, huffing as he tries to wipe the back of his hands against his pants, fully noticing the way stains are set into his clothes.

“I think I’ve got fucking spagetti down the back of my shirt.” He mumbles, running a hand through his hair and making a face at the bits of food in it, sticking to the strands. Techno snorts at his expression.

“Oh, gross. Don’t touch me.” Techno quips, and Wilbur immediately snaps his head up too quick, a gleam in his eye. Techno scoots away from him. 

Although Wilbur doesn’t do much, he just holds a palm out and leans dangerously close, and Techno nearly falls back from how he tries to get away. “Don’t touch- I swear, if you get that on my shirt-” 

Wilbur laughs. 

Phil watches the two of them bickering on the ground and he smiles with a warm fondness in his chest. Oh, he’s still pissed over them just skipping class. But still, small moments. 

He shakes his head, turning his head over to Tommy, who had been staring at Phil, and turns his head away with a jolt when Phil gives his attention to him. 

Walking over to the table, he kneels down in front of where Tommy’s sitting under it, Tommy tucking his legs with him in fear that he’ll somehow trip Phil. 

Phil looks under the table to find Tommy with wide eyes, almost guilty, but more challenging than anything, a small furrow in his eyebrows where as if he’s expecting for Phil to call him out. 

Phil huffs with a smile, holding a hand against the table to keep his balance. 

“Not exactly how I expected dinner to go…” He trails off, tilting his head to the mess around them. Tommy just puts the carrot in his hands to the side, shrugging. 

“I said I could beat them in a fight.” 

“A food fight.”

“Same thing.”

Phil snickers, Tommy giving a hesitant laugh along. “You did say that.” Tommy nods, confident. “Why don’t you get cleaned up, and we can go talk?”

Tommy blinks, his confidence seeming to drain from his expression and his shoulders as he processes Phil’s words. 

“Talk?” Tommy repeats.

“About your aunt, home. I know you said you have a curfew, but she must be worried sick by now, if you haven’t been home since morning. I know I would be.” There’s a bitter taste when Phil has to ask about his aunt, and there’s a small part of him that wonders if he could possibly bargain for custody, even with the strange rumors that would definitely swirl around. 

A small, selfish part of him hopes that Tommy was nervous because he lied, and he doesn’t have an aunt at all. Phil tells himself to be mature. 

He can battle for custody later. 

Tommy struggles to keep his face neutral as he tries to scrape together a plan for his non-existent aunt, and for his non-existent home. Well, he does have a home, but he’s not sure how he can admit that ‘home’ is a giant building with a bunch of other orphans. 

Phil doesn’t seem to notice his panic, and instead turns his head over to Wilbur and Techno, who freeze at realizing Phil’s gaze has been turned onto them. 

“As for you two.” Phil deadpans, Wilbur looking at the floor under him like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“Ah-” Technoblade holds a finger up, about to scrape together a defence, even if he’s not as good at that as Wilbur is. 

“You’re both grounded.” Phil says, cutting him off before he starts. 

“Dangit.” Techno mumbles, Wilbur frowning intensely. 

“But-” Wilbur starts, mouth opening, only to click shut at Phil’s narrowed eyes, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Nope.” Phil simply says, and he rises to his feet, Wilbur huffing. “Wilbur, go clean up. Techno.”

“I’ll go start on classes.” Techno waves a hand, getting up from the ground as Wilbur makes a dramatic groan of pain. “Wilbur, stop dying.”

“No.” Wilbur responds, making a sour face. Techno kicks him in the side. 

---

Tommy panics internally the entire time him and Phil walk down the halls. 

He apologizes awkwardly for ruining the new shirt that he had just gotten not that long ago, and Phil reassures him with a wave of his hand and saying something about how they have plenty. 

Right, royalty. Rich as hell. Probably have a fuckton of shirts. 

The shirt isn’t really his main problem, his main problem is the fact he does not have an aunt . He doesn’t have any sort of family, really, unless you count Tubbo, but Tommy doesn’t really think he could pass Tubbo off as his aunt. He’s too short, and...Tubbo-ish.

Niki could work, maybe, but that would be an awkward conversation, ‘hey so, I lied to the emperor, yeah don’t panic, pretend to be family and I’ll pay you’.

That’s if Tommy even gets to Niki before Phil. No doubt they’ll open the door asking for Tommy’s aunt, and Niki will just straight up say ‘I’m not his aunt?’ and blow up his entire fragile plan to not get pitied. 

Maybe he can just come clean. Even with the pity that’s bound to come, maybe if Tommy delivers it correctly, he won’t become a charity case, and he won’t have to make the Emperor’s mood go down. 

Although, as he looks at Phil, who gives a bright smile back, he does not have enough courage to admit that he’s lied to the Emperor, so he instead just continues to panic, even as he’s pushed into a room with a clean set of clothes. 

There’s a fancy couch and table in the middle of the room, with bookcases to the side, shelves on the walls. A window across the door shows the white snow outside, falling lightly from the sky. 

“I’ll be outside, okay? Just call when you’re changed.” Phil says, closing the door quietly behind him, and Tommy’s left in a room with nothing but a set of new clothes, many regrets, and a half baked plan forming in his head. 

He tugs the shirt over his head as his mind races, and his thought process jumps from trying to make a good defence, to maybe using Niki again, to Tubbo, to ‘oh god wait how long have I been away-’ to panicking again, but this time with a little more Flavor. 

He’s stupidly late for meeting up with Tubbo. His reason for why is ridiculous, and he doubts Tubbo will even believe him, because to be honest, he doesn’t entirely believe it himself. 

But Phil wants to talk about his non-existent aunt, and Tommy doesn’t have a plan, and he really needs to get back to town with Tubbo or else he is going to die . 

From missing Tubbo or from getting murdered by him, who knows, but Tommy raises his head to the window across the room, vaguely considering pros and cons.

But he wouldn’t go out the window, surely. It’s freezing, the temperature is colder up at the castle, he probably doesn’t even have a way to get back to town without getting seen, and it’s just a terrible plan all around- oh wait, he went out the window. 

Really, the entire day is made up of his impulse desicions, aren’t they?

A few minutes later, Phil comes knocking at the door, asking if Tommy’s ready. When he doesn’t get an answer, he knocks again. Then he goes in with a warning that he’s coming in, and he takes one step into the room, sees the wide open window with the cold wind blowing through, some snow having fallen in, and he turns right back around, yelling for guards and sending the whole castle into a lockdown. 

---

Technoblade looks through the bookshelves of their library, skimming over the titles and trying to figure out where he had left off. The library isn’t too big, so it shouldn’t be hard to find the book he’s looking for.

 If he was in the actual royal library, he would be searching for hours, would be walking for hours. But here, it’s a smaller place specifically for him and Wilbur to study, still plenty of bookshelves, two tables to the side for them to use, but not as overwhelming. 

He picks out a book, opening it up and skimming over the words in a random page, making a face. He’d much rather go figure out what’s the deal with the new kid in the castle, rather than study, but he would do anything to avoid Phil’s disappointed stare. 

The front doors opens with a quiet creak, and Techno doesn’t look up, expecting it to be Wilbur. Instead, he hears the voice of a guard.

“Your highness?” 

Technoblade looks down the aisle of books, seeing one of the familiar hall guards stand at the end, giving a friendly smile. They don’t look panicked, so Techno doesn’t assume the worst. 

“The castle has gone on lockdown.” They inform, and Technoblade blinks. “Do you want to go to your room, or are you alright staying here?”

“Is Wilbur stuck in his room?” Techno asks, instead of answering, and they nod. “Heh.” He’s probably annoyed, having gone to go wash out the food in his hair, then having to be stuck in his room with guards in front of his door. 

“Should we move you over there?” They ask, pointing a finger over to the door, and Techno shakes his head, looking back down to the book in his hands. 

“Nah, I’ll stay here. Why’s the castle on lockdown?” He flips a page. Maybe he can get even more ahead of Wilbur for the time being. 

“The emperor’s guest has seemed to have escaped out of a window, and now we’re not sure where he’s gone.” 

Techno raises his eyebrows at hearing that, really wishing he could go see what that is about, go ask Phil, but he’s stuck in this room for now, so he instead just nods. “Alright. You can go.” 

Footsteps sound out, and the doors close, Techno knowing there’s two people standing guard in front of it. 

Grabbing a few more books off the shelf, Techno goes to sit down at the table, putting the pile of books down, opening one up. He might as well pass time, pass Wilbur in their studies, for the heck of it. 

There’s a small click, a familiar one that Techno knows, because that’s the click of the latch of the nearby window that him and Wilbur use to run out on lessons every single time. He raises his head, closing the book in front of him and picking it up, quietly getting up from his seat. 

Moving silently through the bookshelves, he makes his way over to the window, and he’s not surprised to see Tommy quite literally tumble in, covered in snow, and shivering like hell.

Chapter Text

Technoblade just blinks, at first, holding the book up in the air as he silently watches Tommy tumble in from outside.

He’s covered in snow and shivering from head to toe, mumbling swears under his breath as he pushes himself to his feet and pushes the window closed, breathing heavily. 

Techno blinks again. Tommy stills, staring at the window. He slowly turns his head to Techno, and Technoblade can see the bits of snow still stuck in his hair, flakes of white melting in the warmth of the room. They stare at each other for a moment, and Techno internally wishes Wilbur was here instead of stuck in his room right now. 

“You.” Tommy says, pointing a finger right at Technoblade, narrowing his eyes. Techno blinks for a third time, squeezing the book in his hands. 

He chucks the book at Tommy.

Tommy ducks, just barely dodging getting hit in the face, the book sailing over his head and hitting the floor with a thump. Tommy glances behind him at the book on the ground, then turns to Techno with an incredulous look, wrapping his arms around himself to try and warm up. “What the fuck?! What was that for?”

Techno frowns, crossing his arms. “You’re the reason the whole castle is on lockdown.” He says simply, and Tommy doesn’t quite process the sentence at first, eyes wandering to the books around them, then the words sink in, and his eyes go wide. 

“The castle is what?”

Techno really wishes Wilbur was here right now. He’s got a vague idea of who this kid is, sure, and he’ll admit that he’s definitely got fight in him, which he’ll respect, but he does not want to start a conversation with the person who apparently thought climbing out the window and sending the whole castle into a lockdown was a good idea. 

Even if he is Phil’s guest.

Tommy’s eyes are full of slight panic, like he didn’t consider the fact that his escape would have  such an impact, and Techno is torn between laughing or yelling for the guards. 

There’s quiet whispers in his head noting how cold Tommy looks, how he’s curled in on himself, and Techno ignores it, even though they do have a point on how Tommy looks slightly pathetic. 

Techno shrugs, then turns around, walking down the aisle of books next to him. “You went missing, Phil called a lockdown-”

“He fucking-” Tommy huffs out a laugh, hitting a hand to his forehead. “Holy shit- Wait, wait, where are you going-” Tommy stumbles, running after Techno. 

“To the hallway.” Techno answers, walking faster. He doesn’t get to take another step as hands grab at his arm, stopping in his tracks. He turns to Tommy, who shakes his head vigorously. 

“No, no, no-” Tommy pulls again, and Techno actually stumbles back a step, not expecting to get yanked again. “Aren’t there going to be guards outside?”

“There’s guards in front of the door.” Techno slowly nods. “And I’m pretty sure I should go-”

“Nope, no, no-” Tommy heaves, leaning back with all his weight to pull Techno his direction, and Techno just leans forwards slightly in his efforts. “-we’re not doing that-”

“We’re not doing anything-” Techno says, trying to get his arm back, but Tommy’s latched onto it with a death grip, and the teen stumbles with Techno trying to pull away. “I’m going to go inform the guards that you’re not out running around outside-”

“Nooo, you’re not-” Tommy stresses, Techno spinning around and making Tommy lose his grip, falling to the floor. He hops back onto his feet within seconds, and before Techno can even take a step forward, he’s trying to push Technoblade back now. “-bitch, get back, go that way, that way.”

“Are you seriously trying to push me-” 

“You can’t go to the hallway, hallway is off-limits-”

“Stop pushing me-”

“Other way, that way-”

“I’m not going that way!”

“Well now you are!” Tommy insists, his feet skidding for a second as he tries to push Techno the other direction. After a second, he gives up on getting Techno to move, and instead just stands in the way, arms stretched out to the bookshelves on either side of him.

Tommy points a finger over Techno’s shoulder, trying to block as much of his path as possible. “That way or else.” He says, and it’s not very intimidating when he’s still slightly shivering from the cold, teeth chattering. 

Techno leans back on his heels for a moment, looking at Tommy with an almost judgemental look. “Or else what?” He asks, choosing to humor him. 

“I’ve got a weapon.” Tommy raises his chin, shoulders set. 

Technoblade just blinks. “Really.” He says slowly, purposely dragging out the word.

“What is that tone- are you making fun of me-”

“ No, of course not-” Techno waves a hand. He debates just walking right through Tommy to the hallway anyway, but he’s not sure if he wants to deal with the possibility of Tommy clinging onto his leg to try and stop him. 

“Yes you are, motherfucker-” Tommy narrows his eyes, making a face. 

“Look,” Techno raises his palms up to Tommy. “I just seriously doubt you have an actual weapon and I also seriously doubt you can even use it.” Also, using a weapon against him would hardly end well. One, because Technoblade could easily win a fight, and two, he’s the literal prince. No one can attack him without probably getting arrested for it right after Techno is done with them. 

Tommy sniffs, turning his head to the side in slight offense. “My weapon is my words, bitch.” 

“That sounds like something Wilbur would say.” Techno mutters. Wilbur probably has said that before. His words are weapons, quiet and deadly, something something, meaning and waxing poems, Techno doesn’t really remember.

“I don't feel very threatened.” Techno says, Tommy going into a stance, like he’s bracing for Techno to just kick him out of the way.

“Well, you should.” 

“Hm.” Techno presses his lips together tightly, huffing through his nose. Part of him wants to go get the guards still, and if he really wanted to, he could just yell and they would come a second later. 

But then again. He kinda wants to know more about Phil’s guest. 

Ugh, Wilbur’s better at questions than he is. 

“Alright, I’ll make a deal.” Techno offers, Tommy staring at him before nodding. 

“Okay, deal, what’s the deal?”

“I won’t call for the guards, or go out into the hallway, but you got to give me answers on what I ask.” Techno says, eyes glancing past Tommy, internally wondering if this is a smart choice. Phil’s probably stressed, trying to look for a kid who went out the literal window . 

But he really wants to know more.

“You want to interrogate me.” Tommy frowns, Techno humming. 

“Sure.” Techno doesn’t bother denying it. Yeah, that’s more or less what he’ll settle for. 

Tommy’s frown deepens, and he tilts his head like he’s trying to hear something. But he’s considering it in his head, along with his choices here, which, honestly, aren’t that many. He could go back out the window, but it was fucking freezing , and he really doesn’t want to go back out there. 

But he also really would rather not get caught, nor get asked a bunch of questions from the prince- and ohhh wait, Tommy just remembered, he’s standing in front of a prince. Is he going to get arrested for threatening him?

Techno’s still waiting on an answer for their deal, and without thinking, Tommy holds out his hand, pinky out-stretched. “Alright, fine, but you have to pinky-promise.”

Techno blinks, his face shifting into slight shock and exasperation. 

Holding back hesitation, Tommy curses his habits he’s picked up from Tubbo. Pinky-promises are just a thing they do, and he probably shouldn’t be using it with the literal prince, but it’s too late to back out now, so he just holds his hand out insistently, face determined. 

He then remembers the fact he needs to get back to Tubbo, and he then promptly shoves down the slight panic (lots of panic) he gets from that thought. 

Techno sees Tommy’s face go from unhappy to something of dread, and he sighs heavily, begrudgingly locking pinkies for just a second. “Yeah, fine.” 

He and Wilbur have done that sometimes, when they were younger. Sometimes they still do.

Tommy looks surprised at Techno’s willingness, but he quickly gets over it, nodding and crossing his arms. “Alright, ask away.”

“Who are you?” Techno asks. 

“Someone very cool, thank you very much-”

“Name.” Techno specifies. 

Tommy sighs. “Tommy.” He says, with as little enthusiasm as he can muster, sounding dead. 

Techno gives him a face. “That’s it? No last name? Thomas, something?”

“It’s not Thomas-” Tommy scrunches his nose, like he’s thinking over something, before pushing it aside, shaking his head. “Tommy. Just Tommy.”

“What’s your last name?”

Tommy just shrugs. “I dunno. What’s your name?” 

“Technoblade Watson.” Techno answers without a hint of hesitation. He’s a bit suspicious of Tommy not having a last name, but then again, maybe he’s without family. “Why are you here?”

“Saved Phil from some guy trying to stab him.” 

“I knew that.” 

“Then why’d you ask-”

“There’s got to be another reason why you’re here.” 

Tommy rolls his eyes. “That’s what Phil said I’m here for. Because I was ‘brave’ or something.” He sighs. “It’s been a fucking eventful day.” He mutters, more quietly. 

Techno hums, turning Tommy’s words over in his head. Phil’s had assassination attempts on him before, that’s true. And there've been a handful of people who've saved him, brave people. But Phil didn’t invite those people to family dinner.

Techno’s pretty sure he already knows what’s going on, he wants to run it through Wilbur first, but right now, Tommy’s looking at the floor with an almost unhappy look. Techno’s head grows louder, not in a bad way, but he’s not sure if he should be concerned or not about what his chat is yelling.

He holds back a sigh. “Fine. Tell me about it.”

“What.”

“From the beginning. Tell me about your day.” 

---

Phil feels the cold air bite at his skin as he flies up through the air, scanning the snow around the castle. The wind today is unforgiving, freezing and sharp, and Phil frowns when he doesn’t see anything except his guards searching the area. 

Tommy can’t have gone too far. The front gates were shut the moment Phil called for a lockdown, and all the guards are on alert. The castle is secure, and it’s really just a matter of someone spotting the kid in the snow. 

Phil sees nothing as he flies over a third time, and he sighs, circling around and landing onto the ground, guards running up to meet him as soon as his boots hit the snow. 

“Find anything?” He asks, pushing hair out of his face. 

“Nothing, your Grace.” He gets for an answer, and he resists the urge to sigh again. “With the snow starting up again, we don’t see any footprints…”

Phil hums, looking up to the snow that falls from the sky, cold and familiar. Why would Tommy just leave? He can’t have disappeared just like that, unless he had another way of getting out, but Phil was sure Tommy didn’t have any abilities of any sort. 

Or did he? Phil can’t be sure. He wants to ask, but Tommy needs to be found first. It could be a possibility that Tommy went back into the castle, and is hiding somewhere there, but Phil’s already sent guards to go search inside. 

This has been a long day for the kid. Now that Phil thinks about it, maybe this was all too much, and he just panicked and ran. Out the window, for some reason, but he ran either way. 

And as much as Phil wants to try sitting down with Tommy in front of a fireplace, with warm drinks, maybe, so he could talk and get to know him better, Tommy might just be overwhelmed. It makes sense. Sometimes, Phil forgets that he’s regarded with such respect, and he forgets that making simple conversation with the townspeople can be nerve wracking to them.

They’ll always see him as the emperor, although after a few conversations, they’ll eventually just know him as Phil. And that’s all Phil wants for Tommy as well. 

He ignores the slight tug in his heart, a quiet selfish part of him insistent on giving Tommy a place to sleep, just for tonight. He could press for details on why Tommy was able to get into so much trouble. He could make it so it never happens again, he could give Tommy a better place to stay. 

But he chooses not to, and instead he tells himself that the second Tommy is found, he can be sent back home, away from the castle. There’s probably family who are worried for him, waiting for him to get back. 

As much as Tommy is endearing and awfully chaotic like his other two boys, he’s not family. 

And Phil’s not his family. 

Maybe he can visit Tommy a few days from now. Then, Phil can try getting to know him better, and at the very least, he can keep an eye on him. 

Satisfied with that decision, he nods to his guards. “Keep looking. It’s too cold for him to stay out here.”

They continue to search, and Phil stretches out his wings, flying up into the air once more. 

---

“Your highness!” 

Wilbur nearly trips on the next turn, laughing under his breath as he continues to run, hearing the sound of multiple people following. 

“Your highness, wait-!” He heard someone call again, and he just grins, running down the hall to where two other guards are standing in front of the library, turning their heads to Wilbur with a surprised look, but also something resigned. 

He slows down, panting for a second as his shoes skid across the floor for a second as he comes to a stop. “Is, is Techno in there?” He asks, pointing a finger to the door, the other guards still trying to catch up to him down the hall. 

Wilbur feels slightly sorry for making them run after him, after he dashed out of his room without a single warning. Now that he thinks about it, he probably could’ve asked to be escorted over to Techno, rather than just making an impulse decision and running for it. 

Eh, too late now. 

One of the guards nod to Wilbur’s question, stepping to the side as Wilbur reaches for the handle, pulling the door open and heading inside, but not before giving an apologetic smile to the guards who had been placed at his room door, now just watching him go in with a resigned exasperation. 

“Thank you!” He chimes, and he closes the door behind him, sighing.

 He leans his back into the door for a moment, looking into the library to see Technoblade, who’s leaning against the bookshelves with an overly suspicious smile. 

“Heyyy.” Techno greets, Wilbur blinking, raising his eyebrows at how awkwardly Techno is placed. Thankfully, the weird attempt at making a casual smile goes away, dropping into confusion as Techno asks “Wait, weren’t you supposed to be in your room?”

“I got bored and sprinted down the halls.” Wilbur shrugs, pushing himself off the door and walking over to Technoblade. “They’re taking forever to find that kid.”

“Oh, yeah.” Techno looks to the floor, rather than at Wilbur, crossing his arms. “Phil’s still searching around outside.”

“It’s been like twenty minutes already since he jumped out the window, where would he even go ?” Wilbur asks, and Techno raises his head to look at him, and Wilbur notices something shift from behind Techno.

“He’s still running around, probably. Maybe passed out in the snow.” Techno shrugs, nonchalant. “Got buried in it, maybe.”

“Hm.” Wilbur stops in front of Techno, mirroring him in the way that he crosses his arms. “Technoblade.”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s behind you?”

Techno pauses, not answering for a moment, and instead looking at the floor with wide eyes, scratching at the side of his chin. “Uh-”

“Technoblade-”

“I cannot confirm...nor deny-”

“You’re fucking kidding me-”

“-that there is a person behind me-”

Wilbur drops his face into his hands, smothering his laugh.

“Who may or may not be the exact person that caused the lockdown in the first place-” Techno jolts, getting kicked in the back of the leg. “Do not kick me-”

“Okay, okay, move.” Wilbur waves a hand, pushing Techno to the side, revealing Tommy, who’s pressed into the bookshelf like he’s trying to merge with the pages. “You!”

“What do you want.” Tommy grits out, frowning intensely. 

“Why are you here?!” Wilbur asks, turning to Techno. “Wait, when did he get here?”

“Like, fifteen minutes ago? Ten?” Techno makes a so-so hand gesture. “I don’t know, he came through the window.” 

“Through the one we use?” Wilbur points a finger to his chest, thinking about the multiple times they’ve ‘snuck’ out using said window. At this point, the thing should just be another entrance. Wilbur slightly wonders why Phil hasn’t fixed it, even after all the times they just ditch class. 

“You forgot to lock it.” Techno shrugs, Wilbur huffing. 

“You forgot to lock it.” 

“No, I would’ve remembered, I’m pretty sure-”

“It was your turn!” 

“I did it the time before!” 

“No, you-” Wilbur stops the beginning argument right there, waving his hands. “Okay, okay, whatever. That still doesn’t explain why you haven’t told Phil that the fucking child he’s looking for is right here.” He holds his hands out to Tommy, who scoffs. 

“I can hear you-”

“I…can’t talk to the guards. Or go into the hallway.” Techno ignores Tommy, who crosses his arms with a glare. 

“What?” Wilbur questions, Tommy explaining it for him. 

“He pinky-promised.” Tommy nods, holding his finger up like he’s telling a fact, and Wilbur chokes on a laugh. 

“You what?!” Wilbur snorts.

Techno closes his eyes, like it’ll let him leave the room if he just wishes hard enough. “I had questions, and so in exchange for answering them, I can’t sell him out.” 

Wilbur laughs again. 

Tommy seems to be happy with the turn of events, and he raises a finger to Wilbur, jabbing him in the arm. “Yeah, and you can’t sell me out either, or else I’ll die.”

“You know the entire castle is on lockdown, with the guards trying to find you, right?” Wilbur asks, batting Tommy’s hand away. 

“Which is why I’m hiding in here!” Tommy insists, taking a step to stand behind Techno again. “They’re not going to look in the place with the two princes.”

“Huh.” Techno looks slightly surprised. “That’s actually kinda smart.”

“You’re saying that like I’m fucking dumb-”

“Okay, okay, but why do you need to hide?” Wilbur asks, resting a hand on his hip as Tommy peeks out from behind Techno. “You know Phil is just trying to find you.”

“If I get found I’m going to get fucking arrested, your highness.” Tommy supplies, saying the last two words with as much sarcasm he can muster. Wilbur feels like he’s never going to actually say that title seriously.

“You’re not going to get arrested.” Techno deadpans. 

“Probably.” Wilbur adds on, shrugging, barely holding back a grin.

“Probably.”

Tommy narrows his eyes. “That’s not helping!”

“Look, I’m sure Phil won’t be mad, he’s just concerned about the fact that you threw yourself out a window into the freezing cold.” Wilbur says, Tommy making a face. 

“Do you just escape your problems through jumping out the nearest window?” Technoblade asks, remembering the vague summary Tommy had given about earlier when he woke up this morning. 

“It was only twice today, don’t give me that look.” Tommy mutters. 

“Wait, what?” Wilbur asks.

“I’ll tell you later.” Techno waves a hand. “And, uh, while you’re here, can you call for Phil-”

“No, don’t do that-” 

Wilbur takes a step back, and they all go into silence, Tommy going dead still from behind Techno, Techno wondering if the answers he got from Tommy today was really worth those fifteen minutes. 

“HE’S IN HERE-” Wilbur screams, running for the door.

“Oh, you motherfucker-” Tommy runs after him, Techno just watching as the two of them fall out into the hallway, Tommy tacking into Wilbur’s side. 

Needless to say, the guards are more than a little surprised.

---

“So.” Phil starts, clasping his hands together. “I’m hoping there’s a good reason as to why you just...climbed out a window.” 

Tommy keeps his eyes firmly placed on the floor, ignoring the slight guilt that runs down his spine. 

After Tommy had been found (on the ground, trying to strangle Wilbur apparently, who just seemed a mix between laughing and screaming) the lockdown and search was called off immediately, Phil showing up within minutes. 

He came down the hallway with a rush, his mind racing with more than a few terrible scenarios, all of which died promptly the second he was presented with the image of Wilbur and Tommy trying to kill each other on the hallway floor, and Techno watching from the doorway while yelling for them to go for the eyes. 

The last thing he should’ve done was laugh at the sight, but he couldn’t help it, half because it was ridiculous how Tommy, in all the places he could have been, had been hiding with Wilbur and Techno, half because the image of them bickering was just...something to smile at. 

As much as he would’ve liked to have a moment to hang around with all three of them, Phil still needed to send Tommy home, so he got the two of them to get off the floor, and for Tommy to follow him down the hall to somewhere where they could talk in peace. 

Although, as Phil went, he could see Techno leaning into Wilbur, holding a hand over his mouth as he spoke into his ear, pointing at Tommy’s back, the two of them smiling at Phil like they knew something he didn’t.

They probably did, knowing them. 

And now here they were, a few minutes later, sitting in a quiet room with a fireplace beside them, and a blanket over Tommy’s shoulders, because even if he insisted, Phil’s sure he had to still be a bit cold from just going outside without even a proper sweater. 

Tommy’s unusually quiet, though, and he doesn’t meet Phil’s eyes, fingers pulling at the edges of the blanket in his hands. 

“Come on, mate.” Phil smiles, sitting across from Tommy. “It’s fine if you got overwhelmed or something, just give me a warning next time.” He laughs a little, and Tommy just seems to sink into his seat. 

“It’s not that, I just-” Tommy stops, then shrugs, not finishing his sentence. 

Phil frowns, and he forces it into something kinder, holding back a sigh. “Look. It’s probably been a long day for you, from what I’ve seen, and I’d bet you’re tired.” 

Tommy glances up at him, blinking. 

“Your aunt must be worried sick about where you are,” I know I would be, he doesn’t say, but he thinks it either way. “-and you’re far from home, so I think it’s about time you go back, yeah?”

“My aunt-” Tommy starts, stammering. “Well, it has been a really busy day, but in my defense, Tubbo is 90% percent of my impulse control, and this is like the first time I’ve gone without him for so long.” 

“Tubbo?” Phil repeats, Tommy nodding. 

“He’s my best friend.” Tommy smiles, and he hesitates before speaking again, mouth opening and closing. 

Phil smiles back at him, content with the thought of Tommy having someone he’s so close to back at home. He’s also just amused with the idea that without Tubbo, apparently, Tommy just naturally falls into chaos. Reminds him of Techno and Wilbur in a way. Together, those two can be the smartest in the room and the most chaotic, but apart, their thought process seems to lose a whole lot of common sense. 

“I’m sure he’ll be glad when you get back.” Phil says, ignoring the smallest pang of regret as he says that. 

“Yeah, and also pissed. I just took off without a word, technically. We’ve been together ever since we both got dropped off at the orphanage as babies.” 

Phil freezes. 

Tommy keeps going, tripping over his words a bit, but still getting them out. “And, and last night, it was the first night he was going to spend with his new room, because he just got adopted not that long ago, and I had to go back to the orphanage to sleep there, so it was the first time we weren’t sharing a room, too.” 

“He was supposed to come meet me in the morning, or I was, I was going to run over to his place, but then I got sidetracked last night, and ended up waking up in a whole different town, where you know, the thing happened, where you nearly got stabbed-”

Phil can only blink, trying to say something and having nothing.

“And then I got into just a few fights and- yeah, now I’m here instead.” Tommy’s mouth clicks shut, his face slightly red. “He’s going to be pissed that I went off to meet the emperor instead of him.” Tommy laughs lightly, an awkward smile on his face. 

Phil stares, eyes wide in shock as he processes Tommy’s rambling, Tommy seeming to wilt more and more by the second, like he’s waiting for Phil to explode. 

“You-” Phil stops, Tommy curling his hands into fists in the blanket that’s over his shoulders. “You don’t have an aunt.” Phil finally grasps onto the realization, Tommy grimacing. 

“...no.” 

“Oh.” Phil processes his words a little more, and, okay, he should not be having that feeling of hope rise in his chest at the news of Tommy not having an actual family, but- “Oh, you-”

“Sorry for, uh, lying.” Tommy shrugs, and Phil nods quickly, barely holding back a smile. 

“No, no, that’s fine.” Phil reassures, laughing a little. “That’s- perfectly fine, mate.” 

Tommy nods slowly, kicking his legs slightly from where they hang just over the floor. Phil doesn’t seem all that bothered that he’s lied about some non-existent aunt, and he doesn’t seem to be wondering why Tommy lied in the first place, instead he just gives Tommy a fond look, his wings shifting from behind him. 

“Do you want to stay here, for the night?” Phil asks. 

Tommy chokes, coughing. “W-what?!”

“No, you see, I was worried about any family not knowing where you were, since you weren’t home, but if it’s only your best friend, who’s alright with his own family, then I’d rather you rest here, for the night, instead of starting on the long trip back down to town, you know?”

“I- But-” Tommy sputters, the blanket falling off his shoulders as he leans forward. “I couldn’t actually stay here?”

“I could have a room set up easily.” Phil shrugs, grinning. “Believe me, we have plenty of space.” 

Tommy loses his breath in one fell swoop, his nerves from earlier being completely overpowered now from the pure shock and disbelief. 

Stay here, for the night.

Here?! In the castle, invited by the literal emperor?!

“But-” Tommy hits a hand to his forehead. “Tubbo, though, he’s probably worried sick, I don’t, I don’t know if I should…”

“Oh, that is true.” Phil hums. “How about he comes over tomorrow, up here?”

Tommy blinks. “To the castle?!”

“Yeah, mate.” Phil nods, grinning at how Tommy looks like he’s about to cough from choking on the air again. “What was his name? Tubbo?”

Tommy nods. 

“Where’s your town? Actually, I have a map, you could point it out, that’d be easier, I could send a letter…”

---

“Uh, Niki?!” Ranboo’s voice comes from downstairs, Niki finishing where she had been tying her hair in a bun, looking at the mirror in the bathroom as she did to make sure she didn’t miss a strand of hair.

“Hold on!” Niki yells back, pulling at the band keeping her hair up. Ranboo and Tubbo were done baking for the day, and the ovens were off, so she’s fairly sure that it’s not a fire he’s calling her for, rather they must’ve messed up frosting the cakes terribly. 

They’ve been busy baking for the rest of the day, trying to get Tubbo’s mind off the fact Tommy wasn’t around. It worked, for the most part, because it’s hard to keep worrying when you’re screaming along in the kitchen, trying to save a batch of cupcakes from looking terrible. 

“I think you should probably hurry, actually!” Ranboo yells back, Niki looking away from the mirror with a confused face. 

They didn’t go turning the ovens back on, did they?

“Niki, there’s a royal guard at the door!” She hears Tubbo yell this time, and she runs out of the bathroom, her hair staying neat, thankfully. 

Quickly making her way down the stairs, she finds Tubbo behind the front counter, Ranboo at the front door, where a man with light armor stands, the empire’s symbol in his iron chestplate. 

“I’m Eret, by the way.” He says, as Niki hops over the counter, not bothering to go around. 

“I’m, uh, Ranboo.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

“Hello!” Niki greets, Ranboo going to stand behind her as she finally makes her way to the door. It’s partially dark outside, sundown having more or less already passed, and the plaza from behind Eret being mostly empty by now, just a few people walking around to the shops that are still open. “What can I do for you?”

“Does someone named ‘Tubbo’ live here?” Eret asks, holding up a letter that looks rather fancy. 

“That’s me!” Tubbo raises his hand up, heads turning to him, and he climbs over the counter, struggling for a moment, before getting over and making his way to the door, standing by Niki, who rests a hand onto his shoulder. “Is this about Tommy?”

“You know Tommy?” Eret questions, looking slightly surprised. 

“...yes?” Tubbo makes a face, frowning just a bit. “What, what happened?”

“Here.” Eret holds out the letter, Tubbo taking it, eyes going wide at the symbol at the front of it. 

“Woah, wait, that’s-” Ranboo says, leaning over Tubbo’s head to look at it. 

“You and your family have been invited to come up to the castle tomorrow. Time and details should be in there.” 

“To the-” Niki stammers, eyes wide. “Wait, the castle?”

“Yup.” Eret shrugs, grinning. “The Emperor would like to invite you over, after Tommy asked for Tubbo over there.” 

Niki’s jaw drops, Ranboo sputtering. 

The crinkle of paper sounds out, and Eret feels stuck in place as Tubbo stares at him, eyes burning, and they can’t tell if Tubbo looks delighted, shocked, or pissed. 

“He what.” Tubbo slowly says, almost crushing the letter in his grip. 

Chapter Text

When Phil had said he would set up a room for Tommy, he thought that meant that Tommy would be getting a simple guest room, something plain, but probably fancy, because he’s in the castle, how can it not be fancy? 

Tommy’s slept in pretty much the same bed for most of his life, and he’s always slept with Tubbo at his side, one way or another. He’ll admit it’s not the most comfortable bed, probably nothing compared to anything in the castle, but it’s his bed, and he likes it, thank you very much. Even if it creaks whenever he shifts around, even if the blankets sometimes smell like dust, even if occasionally he’ll find a spider or two lurking in the edges of the bed frame. 

Surprisingly, finding spiders in his bed frame was not that common. 

No, in the orphanage, you usually found those in the corners downstairs. There’s a reason Tommy always hated sweeping duty. 

He’s not sure to be either glad or disappointed that he can’t remember the first night he slept without Tubbo in the same room. But then again, last night he passed out by getting knocked in the head with a rock, and then woke up in a whole different town. So maybe it’s better if he just purges the night from his memory completely. 

God, it’s been a long day. 

The mental reminder seems to jumpstart his road to exhaustion, because as he walks with Phil through the halls, he can feel the frantic energy and excitement of the day drain away slowly. Part of him is still in absolute disbelief that he’s in the castle, next to the actual fucking emperor, of all people, but Phil has a way of talking that Tommy tends to forget that’s the emperor and not some cool guy off the street. 

The halls they walk through are a pretty good reminder that Tommy’s in the presence of royalty, though. Everything is so well lit, clean and pristine, and it’s not like the streets Tommy’s grown up in are mistreated, nor the building he grew up in, but he’s grown up with a few broken lights, some faded clothes, dirt on the ground. 

He feels almost out of place, almost being the key word. After a few minutes of pointing out where his town was, and where Tubbo would be, he had been given another set of clothes, at Phil’s insistence. Tommy tried protesting at first, because sure, his clothes were slightly damp from rolling around in the snow outside, but they were still fine. Tommy’s fallen into ice-cold puddles before and his clothes were still fine even if they were slightly soaked, according to his standards. 

But he got handed another set of clothes anyway, and Tommy couldn’t exactly refuse, because well, free stuff, and also he’s being handed something from royalty. You don’t just turn that down. 

So here he is, walking by Phil’s side, dressed up in light blue shades, blending in just fine with the person beside him. He’s never had clothes that were so neat , all his shirts are wrinkled in one way or another, either that or faded. This feels like it’s brand new, like it was just made and immediately given as a gift.

Tommy’s not sure if he’s going to have to give this back or not when he’s eventually sent away from the castle, but he’s going to cross his fingers that he gets to keep it, because this is definitely going to become his favorite shirt. 

It takes a while for them to walk through the halls, and while the sheer size of everything makes Tommy’s head spin, he’s pretty confident that if he had a map he could figure it out. Maybe. 

Or not. He’s reminded again that he got so lost that he ended up in an entirely new town. 

Phil looks more amused than anything at how Tommy constantly tilts his head back to look up at the ceilings, the lights, eyeing the doors they pass, curious to know what’s in each room. 

Phil seems just more smiley in general, actually. His mood was always smiley, and friendly, right off the bat when Tommy met him, but right now it’s as if something wonderful has happened, like they’re in the middle of celebrating a holiday. He seems cheery, and it sticks to Tommy, who walks with his head high, grinning even with how tired he’s starting to get. 

Thankfully, they do eventually get to the guest rooms.

Or rather, the living quarters. 

Tommy follows Phil past the entrance of a hall, where there are two guards in their way, that only nod and move to the side as Phil passes them. This hall is different from the other ones Tommy’s walked through in the castle, he notices right off the bat, because it’s a lot more...homey feeling. 

The lights are just a bit dimmer over Tommy’s head, the walls around them are less intricate and nice looking, and instead more simple. There’s objects hanging on the walls, and Tommy has to take a double take when he sees actual swords . 

There’s a few doors at which Phil points to as they pass them, and Tommy’s mind buffers as Phil names them out. 

“This is my room.” Phil says, pointing to a closed white door. 

“Here’s Techno’s, this one is Wilbur’s.” Phil continues, Tommy’s steps faltering as his eyes flick back and forth to the rooms, trying to think about what’s inside, and also trying to figure out why the hell the guest rooms are so close to the actual heirs of the throne. 

“And here’s…” Phil reaches the last door, turning the doorknob as Tommy leans in, eyes wide. “Yours.”

“What.” Tommy chokes out, his voice sounding like the air has been knocked out from his lungs.

“This is your room.” Phil repeats, looking to Tommy with a smile, and Tommy stares back at him. He thinks he’s maybe stopped breathing. Phil doesn’t seem to notice how Tommy is just staring in shock, and he goes to walk in, continuing on. “Sorry for the boxes in the corner, to be honest, this was just something like a storage room, before.” 

Tommy finally rips his eyes away from Phil, stuck at the doorway as he looks inside to find a bedroom, with a bed that’s bigger than his and Tubbo’s combined, a small fireplace, and- is that a fucking balcony.

Phil snickers a little at Tommy’s expression, his mouth wide open as he looks around, not a word coming from him. 

Resting a hand on the boxes that sit in the corner, Phil tries to remember what he put in here. There’s a few things that aren’t his, like a small, beat up wooden sword and a broken guitar leaning against the wall. Phil can’t help but smile fondly at seeing that, and also be slightly annoyed, because he told the twins to put those away, dammit, not hide them into the extra room. Of course they put them in here rather than properly putting them away. 

“I’ll get someone to put these away later.” Phil says out loud, lifting his head back up to Tommy, who’s still stuck at the doorway, as if something is keeping him from getting in. His mouth is clicked shut the moment Phil turns his head to him, but he doesn’t take a step in, only staring at Phil as if he’s gone insane. “You good, mate?”

“What the fuck.” Tommy is able to get out, holding his hands to his chest as he looks at the room again. “What, what the fuck? I get to sleep here ?”

Phil barely holds back a laugh. “Well, I’m not showing you the room just for you to not sleep in it.”

“I can’t sleep here! Your room-” Tommy takes a step back into the hall, pointing a hand up. “-is literally down the hall!”

“Convenient, huh?” Phil agrees, Tommy sputtering. “If you need anything, you can knock on my door. Or Wilbur’s and Techno’s, but then again, sometimes they’re heavy sleepers.” 

“If I-” Tommy hits a hand to his forehead, pushing his hair back, letting out a big puff of air. “Holy- Your majesty, this is-” 

“Phil.” Phil gently corrects. 

“I- Your Grace-” Tommy stammers out.

“Phil.”

“Phil!” Tommy yells, almost exasperated. “Is- what is that?” He asks, staring at the door across the room that he hopes is just a weird looking closet. 

Phil huffs, turning around and glancing to Tommy, before walking over the said doors. “The balcony?”

Tommy makes a sound like he’s dying. Phil seems to brush it off, pushing the doors open, a cold breeze coming in. Tommy’s attention falls to Phil’s wings, in full view as he looks outside.

After a second more of panic, Tommy decides he can totally handle this, and finally walks into the room, hesitantly coming up behind Phil as he stands at the doorway, freezing air gushing in. 

“I think the snow is easing up.” Phil notes, looking to Tommy as he joins him at his side, looking outside, but not quite stepping outside. 

The view is a bit foggy, with the clouds overhead and the snow falling through the air, but Tommy can tell that it's sundown, the sky starting to dim. There’s a stab of fear at it being late and still not being home, but Tommy’s able to push it down for a moment longer, squinting out to where he can towns, far off. 

He leans a little bit forward, wrapping his arms around himself as the cold sets in, and Phil laughs. 

“Here, come on, come on.” Phil tugs him forward by the sleeve, raising a wing out and over Tommy’s head as they walk out onto the balcony. Phil keeps him close, and Tommy looks with wide eyes past the snow, at the glimpse of towns and communities that are visible from the top of the mountain. 

It looks so much smaller from up here. Tommy wonders if he can see Tubbo’s home from here. 

“This is insane.” Tommy breathes out, Phil smiling. “You live up here.”

“You get used to the cold.” Phil grins, and Tommy just snorts. He glances up at the wing over his head, keeping snow out of his hair, and he can’t help but stare at the feathers, mind racing. For the moment, Tommy forgets about the ridiculous room he’s been given for the night, sorta forgets about the fact he’s in the literal castle. 

Instead he just grins at Phil, face red from the cold wind. Phil smiles back, looking over the railings of the balcony. 

“Have you ever, like,” Tommy trails off, yawning, before shaking it off. “Have you ever jumped off the edge of here? To fly?”

“Sometimes.” Phil shrugs, looking up at the cloudy skies. “Occasionally, I just go for a night fly when the weather clears up.” 

Tommy looks up at the sky, trying to imagine himself flying that high, in this temperature. Phil said he’s used to it, although Tommy’s not, he’s used to the warmth of the street back home. But he’s pretty sure if he layered up properly, he wouldn’t freeze to death in the first five minutes. Probably. 

“It’s a good view.” Phil tells him quietly, and Tommy nods for lack of a better response. “Come on, let’s get inside, the last thing you need is to get sick.”

---

Phil leaves him in the room not long after that, Tommy flopping down on the bed and deciding that he’s not moving for the next hour, at least . 

That, with the warmth from the fireplace that Phil started up, it’s perfect conditions for Tommy to kick his shoes off and bury himself into the blankets and pillows. It’s soft, almost too soft, and he curls up at the center of the bed, blinking slowly at the ceiling. 

He tries to go over the events of what happened today, (holy shit, has it literally been one day ?) and he really can’t decide if this is the worst or the best luck he’s ever had. 

On one hand, woke up in a royal guards office, nearly got arrested, nearly got stabbed, got into a fight.

On the other, won that fight, met the emperor, got into the fucking castel, got his own cool as hell room for the night, and-

Tommy jolts up, yanking himself out of the sleepy mood as he digs in his pocket. His hand grasps around a small crumpled up bag, and he pulls it out, smiling. 

He’s still got Tubbo’s cookies. 

They’re broken as hell, practically just a big pile of crumbs at this point, but he still has them. A good reminder of the fact that he’s going to be murdered in front of the royal family tomorrow. He knows Tubbo. That lunatic would not hesitate to tackle Tommy even if the entire empire was watching. 

Brushing off his imminent doom, Tommy’s already settled with the fact he’s had a good life, and he opens up the bag to pour the broken pieces out onto his palm, tossing it back into his mouth. 

He’s extra careful to not drop any crumbs on the bed, mostly because he doesn’t want to go to sleep with crumbs in his sheets. 

Finishing the last remains of the cookie crumbs, Tommy brushes any last bits off his mouth, tucking the small bag into his pocket again and looking past his bed to the fireplace, which burns with warmth, keeping the cold away. 

What was it that Phil said he was going to go do? Paperwork? It makes sense if he’s busy, Tommy’s surprised he even had time to spend the day with Tommy, shouldn’t the emperor be really busy? 

Tommy’s head backtracks, and he vaguely remembers hearing Phil push back all his meeting the second he saw Tommy. 

He is definitely having a lucky day, he’s decided. 

Turning his attention to the boxes stacked up in the corner, Tommy stares at them for a moment, his eyes landing on a particular wooden sword, leaning innocently against the wall. 

Uhg, he really doesn’t want to get out of this bed. 

But sword.

But this is the comfiest bed he’s ever had . 

But sword . 

Tommy swings his feet off the bed, his socks moving against the carpet lightly, as if someone might walk in at any moment and demand why he’s not asleep. He’s tired, for sure, but sword.

Leaning down and grabbing it from the floor, Tommy raises it up, observing the little nicks and scratches across the blade. He’s half-glad it’s wood, because it means he’s not going to be stabbing himself anytime soon, but he’s also slightly disappointed because he wants a cool sword, like an actual one. 

His mind wanders to the ones hanging up outside, but he abandons that thought, instead raising the small wooden sword in front of him, grinning wide. 

There’s a mirror placed at the side of the bed, and Tommy walks in front of it, raising the sword up before swinging it down through the air, barely holding back a giggle.

It’s not a real sword, but it’s still cool, and there’s small designs carved into the handle. 

Tommy swings it around a few times more, before looking back to the stuff and seeing the guitar. There’s strings missing, and it looks like it got dropped off a roof, but Tommy still kneels down to look at it closer anyway. 

Putting the sword back to where it was, he holds a hand out to the string still intact and plucks one, an incredibly out of tune noise coming from it. 

Who knows how to play guitar? Tommy wants to guess Phil, if only because Phil is just amazing, but it doesn’t seem like him. Which means it’s one of the princes, but Tommy doesn’t know anything about them.

Giving up on his speculations, he rises to his feet, considering for a moment on looking through the boxes as well. But the bed is calling his name, and he’s yawning again, dragging a hand across his face. 

Walking back to the bed, Tommy climbs back under the blankets, shifting and rolling over until he’s comfortable. 

He realizes this is more or less the first time he’s ever sleeping alone, without Tubbo, and he digs the empty bag for cookies out of his pocket, squeezing it in his hand. 

He wonders what Tubbo is doing. Maybe he’s making a cake. Or burning a cake, more like. As much as Tommy is slightly scared of Tubbo's reaction at the shit Tommy’s gotten himself into, he’s also looking forward to just seeing Tubbo again. 

Call him clingy, but he just wants Tubbo.

Tommy quietly drifts off with the empty bag in his hand, underneath blankets that are ridiculously soft. 

---

There’s a banging on the door, dragging Tommy out of his sleep, and he groans, grabbing a pillow and turning over, holding the soft material over his head. 

“Tubbo, go open it.” Tommy mutters out, hearing another knock, and he awaits for the grumbling protest of Tubbo insisting that Tommy goes to open it, to see what one of the caretakers want this late. 

But he doesn’t get a response, and Tommy sighs as the knocking keeps going, insistent and annoying. “Tubbo?” He mumbles, and he’s greeted with the sight of a pillow, and the wall of a room. 

Room.

This isn’t his room?

Wait-

“I think he’s a heavy sleeper.”

“I’m trying to knock, shut up-”

“Knock louder.”

“I’m knocking as loud as I can!” 

“Well, it’s not enough to wake him, clearly-”

Tommy hears bickering from outside his door, and he jolts up from the bed, blinking sleep out of his eyes. What time is it? A glance at the window tells that it’s dark outside, so he must’ve gotten at least a few hours of sleep. That doesn’t explain the knocking though-

“Alright, screw it- I’m knocking to be polite-!” He hears Wilbur chime, the door swinging open. “-but I’m asserting my status as a prince by coming in anyway!”

“What the fuck.” Tommy is only able to respond, watching as the two of them waltz in like they belong, and like Tommy wasn’t trying to sleep just a few seconds ago. 

“Good morning.” Techno delivers, but he doesn’t sound very enthusiastic as he closes the door behind him. He’s holding a book in his hands, and Tommy’s too focused on it to notice Wilbur circling around the bed and jumping on beside Tommy. 

“It’s not morning.” Wilbur frowns. 

“Eh.” Techno waves a hand. 

“Get off the bed- I’m sleeping!” Tommy tries smacking a pillow into Wilbur's face, Wilbur ducking. 

“But now you’re awake!” Wilbur smiles brightly back, grabbing the pillow in Tommy’s grasp and yanking it away. 

“I was sleeping , before you fucking-”

“That’s great, anyway-”

“Oh, hey, these are still here.” Techno puts the book in his hands to the side, on a drawer, and he leans down to grab the wooden sword from before, twirling it in his hand. “This is old .”

“Is that your wooden sword?” Wilbur asks, Tommy blinking as Techno swings it around, testing it out with a huff. 

“I forgot I put it here.” Technoblade shrugs, Wilbur scoffing. “Your guitar is here.”

Wilbur makes a confused face. “I don’t remember putting that in here. I thought you threw it away.”

Techno shrugs easily, putting the sword back. 

“Fantastic, those are your things, are we done.” Tommy deadpans, Wilbur smiling like a maniac as he turns to him. “Why are you here?” He whines, trying to fix his hair, which is sticking up in all kinds of wild directions. 

Tommy is kinda intrigued to know the story behind the objects, but he’s also tired, and he wants to sleep. Preferably without princes barging into the room. 

“Well, I think it’s unfair Technoblade got to have a nice conversation with you, while I barely got a word in at dinnertime-”

“You called me a child.” Tommy narrows his eyes. 

Wilbur continues without a single hint of regret. “I did, and I would do it again, however-”

“Are you an orphan?” Technoblade asks, Wilbur hitting a hand to his face. 

“That’s rude, why the fuck do you want to know-”

Techno looks at the wooden sword, crossing his arms. 

“-well maybe you’re curious, yeah, so what if I am, what of it-”

“Told you.” Techno says to Wilbur, Wilbur rolling his eyes. “I called it.”

“No you didn’t.” Wilbur huffs. 

“I did, I did, I said, ‘Phil wouldn’t bring a random kid here for no reason’ and I was right-”

Wilbur throws the pillow at Techno, Techno ducking out of the way with a barely hidden grin. “Shut the fuck up, you’re ruining my chance at being the favorite-”

“You surrendered those chances at the first impression-” Techno says, grabbing the pillow from the floor.

“Why are you hereee.” Tommy says loudly, not in the mood to even understand what they’re bickering about. 

“For knowledge!” Wilbur turns to Tommy, getting smacked in the back of the head as Techno launches the pillow at him. “You motherfucker-” He turns back around, Techno skillfully pretending he’s done no wrong as he walks over with the book from earlier in his hands. 

“I bring gifts.” Techno says, throwing the book and stepping back as Wilbur tries to swing a pillow at him. Tommy grabs at the book as Wilbur scrambles to climb across the bed so he can reach Techno and properly smack him across the head. 

He skims through the pages, ignoring the sounds of scuffling and swearing beside him, and he wakes up a little more as he realizes it’s a book about the nether, the first few pages talking about creating a portal, gathering obsidian. 

“What is this?” Tommy asks, looking up, Technoblade in the process of suffocating Wilbur under a pillow on the ground. 

“Uh, it’s a book about the resources and environment of the nether, there’s multiple books, actually-” Techno stumbles back as he gets jabbed in the shoulder, Wilbur escaping. 

“That’s just the first one. We’ve had to read it like a million times over, Techno’s read practically everything that’s about the nether as a whole-” Wilbur continues, Techno grabbing the pillow and tossing back onto the bed, ending the fight there. 

Tommy reads over the pages, his muddled brain still not quite grasping the information in the book, but he’s still incredibly interested. Him and Tubbo have talked time and time again about monsters, biomes, other realms. 

The nether, he’s never been there, why would he have been, he’s never had a reason. But he’s heard about the fuckton of lava and creatures that live there, and like any teen, he’s curious as hell. 

Wilbur kneels up on the ground, leaning his elbows onto Techno’s shoulders as Technoblade just sits on the floor with his legs crossed. “We’d thought you like it, there’s a stupid amount of stories we could tell you-”

“You’ve been there?!” Tommy asks, snapping his head up from the book, eyes wide.

“Once or twice.” Techno tilts his head, Wilbur scoffing lightly. 

“We’ve gone with Phil a couple times. It’s hot as fuck.”

“I lost a sword there once.” Techno frowns, like he’s just remembered. 

“You dropped it into lava-”

“By accident- ”

“That’s-” Tommy cuts himself off, laughing lightly as he flips through the book. “That’s so cool.” 

The most interesting thing Tommy’s ever done is this entire day, really. But these two, they’ve gone to the nether? Multiple times? 

They’ve become just slightly less annoying in Tommy’s eyes. 

“Any stories you would like to hear?” Wilbur asks, quickly getting up and jumping onto the bed again, Tommy scooting back. “I’ve got plenty, like when Technoblade-”

“No.” Techno cuts him off.

“I haven’t even started.”

“But I know you’re just going to ruin my reputation.”

Tommy tries to think. What could he ask? He has so much he could know, if they’re willing to tell him. He could ask about the ghasts, the pigman, the lava. If they’ve gone with Phil plenty of times-

Tommy’s mind stutters. And he gets a perfect idea. 

“Actually,” Tommy closes the book, looking up to Wilbur. “Uh, what about when Phil went to the End?” 

Wilbur blinks, Techno looking just as thrown off. 

“Surely he’s told you guys the details, right?”

Tommy knows the general gist of it. Phil went to the End, killed the dragon, unlocked magic, and built the Empire. But if anyone knows the better story version, it’s got to be his sons. 

And to be honest, Tommy really wants to hear about a dragon. 

“Uhhh.” Wilbur blinks again, glancing to Techno, and they seem to silently question something, communicating through tilted heads, pointed looks. Finally, Wilbur seems to nod, and he looks to Tommy. “Right! Where Phil found the portal, found a dragon, then-”

“I’ll tell it.” Techno says, getting up from the floor, sitting down on the bed as Wilbur scoots over to sit beside Tommy. “Dad’s told us the story a million times, I could say it in my sleep.”

“You always told him to retell it.” Wilbur reminds, smiling. 

“Shush.” Techno waves a hand, Tommy putting the book to the side. “How did he always start it?”

“The portal, finding the portal.” Wilbur nods, Tommy glancing between them both. 

“That was the boring part, but it’s the start.” Techno yawns, brushing his hair back. “It was also the longest part. Phil’s not actually from around here, you know, he was born somewhere really far off, across the lands. He only came here after hearing the stories about the End and deciding that he wanted some adventure.”

“He had to kill multiple enderman and travel to the nether for certain materials before he was even able to start looking for the actual portal, then he had to figure out from other travelers who to craft an eye.”

“An eye?” Tommy asks.

“Eye of Ender.” Wilbur leans his chin against his palm, holding up a hand as if he’s holding something. “Looks like an eyeball, it powers the portal and is like a compass straight towards it. I’ve only ever seen one twice. It’s not something you find laying around, you have to make it.”

“And figuring out how to make it was the hard part, because whoever Phil asked at the time thought he was crazy. People never came back from the End. It was a death wish.” Techno continues, Tommy nodding. “After a while though, he did figure it out, he got multiple of them and traveled a really long way, all the way up to this mountain, where he found it.” 

“The portal is in the mountain?” Tommy questions, tilting his head. 

Wilbur huffs. “Don’t bother looking for it. Phil sealed it up a long time ago.” 

Techno gives a small smile to Wilbur, like they’re saying something telepathically, and he goes on. “He went in through the portal, which is a one way ticket. There’s no turning back once you’re in. And once he was in, he realized exactly why people didn’t come back.”

“Dragon.” Wilbur waves his hands, Tommy rolling his eyes, waiting for Techno to go on. 

“Phil says that when it flies over, you can feel the rumbling in the ground and air. And it was loud enough to leave his ears ringing.” 

“He also said that each time it roared, you could feel it in your chest. Honestly, he was terrified, he hid out in the ground for a solid few hours while trying to think of how to survive.” Wilbur adds, Tommy trying to imagine a dragon flying over his head, dangerous and deadly. 

“In the End, Phil said that it’s a giant floating island over an endless void. There’s ten pillars on the island, in a circle.” Techno draws out a circle in the blankets, and Tommy tries to imagine it as he goes on. “Phil figured out that the pillars healed the dragon, so anything he did, it was useless as long as the pillars were intact.”

“There were crystals, at the very top, and these pillars were tall, if you fell, you’d probably die. Not only that, but the only way to break the crystals was to have it end in an explosion. He learnt that the hard way, and nearly fell off. It took forever, but he one by one destroyed each crystal, then got ready to actually face the dragon.”

“He was running out of arrows pretty quickly in, and every now and then, the dragon would fly down to his level, so he would use his sword instead. He got kicked back hard enough to break a rib a couple times, but he had armor, so he lived.”

“After a long time of fighting, Phil shot well enough to hit an arrow into the dragon’s actual eye, and it made it fall onto the ground. So, Phil, having lost his sword at that point, and being very nearly dead, used an axe instead and went up to the dragon. He swung it into its chest and killed it, right there.”

Chapter Text

Techno goes on to describe what happened after Phil finally ended that fight, stabbing an axe into the heart of a dragon. 

There had been a blinding light, so bright that Phil couldn’t see anything for a long moment, then it disappeared, and with it, the dragon he killed. The island was left with just him, and a few endermen who were scattered, far off. 

“What?!” Tommy cuts in, Wilbur snorting at the way he sounds so appalled. “It just disappeared ?!”

“I wasn’t done.” Technoblade mutters, since Tommy cut him off mid-sentence. Tommy keeps going anyway. 

“It’s a huge fucking dragon, you’re telling me it just-” Tommy waves his hands up, making a sound that he’s sure describes what he’s feeling right now. 

Technoblade makes a face like he can’t decide if he wants to laugh or still be insulted that he was interrupted. Tommy personally thinks he looks stupid. 

“Well, what do you think happened to the body?” Wilbur asks with a scoff, leaning back. 

“It fell off into the void, didn’t it?” Tommy asks, Wilbur and Techno sharing a glance. 

“Eh, the story gets kinda warped around the kingdom.” Techno shrugs. “But this is Phil’s first hand experience, the actual story from the guy who went there. It disappeared with magic.”

“Bullshit.” Tommy calls, crossing his arms. 

“That’s what happened!” Technoblade yells, throwing his arms up. Wilbur laughs. 

“Go on, go on, tell the rest.” Wilbur suggests. 

After the dragon disappeared, a portal had opened up at the center of the island, seemingly the only way out, other than jumping into the void below. With nothing else to choose, and the dragon gone, Phil went through, and came out on the other side, back in the overworld.

Except, he was back in the overworld with wings on his back, and he was in the middle of the forest, near his hometown. He had been sent back to where he started. So then he went on to return back to the portal. 

“How’d he get the wings?” Tommy questions, cutting Technoblade off, this time not mid-sentence, thankfully.  

“He went through the portal.” Wilbur repeats, Tommy frowning. 

“Yeah, but-” Tommy falters, searching for the right question. “How did he get them? Like, how did they get on his back?” 

“He left the End with no wings, and arrived in the Overworld with wings.” Techno drawls, Tommy frowning. “He said he was really thrown off by them, he had to teach himself how to fly.” 

“But how did he make them appear?”

“He didn’t. The portal gave them to him.” 

Tommy huffs, leaning back and falling onto the pillows behind him. “That’s also bullshit.”

Wilbur gives a small laugh, turning his head to Tommy. “How else would he have gotten his wings?”

“I don’t know, maybe he was born with them? He only used them to fight the dragon, and then just decided to keep them unhidden the rest of the time?” Tommy gives as a response.

Technoblade shakes his head. “Nope, he didn’t have wings before.” 

“Are you sure.” Tommy stresses.

“Mhhmm, pretty sure.” 

“He’s the first and only one to ever have wings.” Wilbur tells Tommy. “Although, plenty of other people started to pop up with certain features.” He says, flicking a finger at his own pointed ear, Tommy only now realizing that he’s the only one in this room with round ears. 

“Phil thinks we might be of nether descent, actually.” Technoblade says, reaching over to take the book that’s laying next to Tommy, flipping the pages open. “Which could be true, we’re both partially immune to lava, although there’s no real way of knowing. 

“You’re what ?” Tommy asks, very much interested in that idea, but he backtracks a bit on Wilbur’s words. “Wait, what do you mean Phil’s the only one?”

“He’s the only one to ever have wings.” Technoblade answers, eyes stuck on the pages as he skims through it. He’s read these words a million times, he’s practically memorized it. 

“He can’t be really.” Tommy sits up, turning and letting his legs hang off the bed, head turned to the twins. “I mean, there’s a bunch of people with like, magic and shit, right? I know someone who’s probably part endermen.”

“Ooh, really?” Wilbur asks. 

“He’s really tall, his skin is strange.” Tommy waves off, not wanting to elaborate on Ranboo, because that’ll make his thought process snowball into thinking about Tubbo, and he would like to postpone the conversation about his imminent death, thank you very much. “But, moving on, the empire is huge, right? Surely, there’s someone else with wings?”

“We’ve looked.” Wilbur shrugs, smiling hesitantly. “Phil’s looked, believe me. He’s asked around, he’s put out searches, but nothing’s ever come up. He’s the only one that we know of.”

“No one else?” Tommy insists. “At all?” 

“When we say he’s the only one, it means, he’s the only one.” Technoblade says, looking up from the book. “Besides, he’s stopped searching for now. Busy with the Empire and everything.”

Tommy blinks, swallowing down a weird feeling in his throat. “Oh.”  He wonders how Phil would react if he knew he’s finally found someone like him. “Well, I still think the dragon part of that story is bullshit.”

“That’s what happened-!”

“Alllright, we did come in here to give you the book, although we also had something else planned.” Wilbur claps his hands together, successfully preventing Technoblade from wanting to snipe a teen with a pillow. 

“We did?” Techno asks, closing the book.

Wilbur gives him a look, unimpressed. “Yes, we- The kitchens.”

“I thought you were joking with that.” Technoblade hums, but he goes to get off the bed anyway, putting the book down on the nightstand. “Although I could go for some food.”

“I told you- Okay, just, go scare the guards off.” Wilbur waves his hands in a shooing motion, Technoblade snorting and grabbing the wooden sword from where it leans against the wall, making his way to the door and leaving it open as he walks down the hall. He gives a sarcastic salute to Wilbur as he leaves. Wilbur just rolls his eyes. 

“What’s he doing?” Tommy questions, Wilbur getting to his feet and walking around the bed to pull Tommy to his feet as well.  “What are you doing?”

“Right now, Phil is busy with some late night Emperor stuff, and the castle is quiet. Which means, we- ” Tommy stumbles as he’s pulled away from the most amazing bed he’s ever had. “-can go sneak off to the kitchens for a late-night snack.”

“Aren’t we going to get in trouble?!” Tommy yanks back, Wilbur turning around to look at him. Tommy’s grateful for how nice Phil is, he’s stupidly generous to the point where Tommy’s kinda confused, but he doesn’t want to go sneaking around if it means he’s going to be arrested. Well, maybe he won’t be arrested, exactly, if he’s sneaking around with the actual princes, but he’s definitely going to be in trouble.

“What, are you scared?” Wilbur grins, and Tommy’s entire attitude is changed in a second, pushing Wilbur towards the door. 

“No, fuck no!” Tommy snaps. “I can do what I want.”

“Then we’re going to go sneak off to the kitchens.” Wilbur nods, Tommy huffing. “Me and Technoblade have done it plenty of times, Phil always goes to bed late, we never get caught. Usually.”

“Usually.” Tommy repeats, not feeling comforted. “Hold on, wait, I don’t have my shoes on.”

“You can walk without shoes, the halls are clean enough.” Wilbur shrugs off, poking his head out the door, seeing Technoblade walk back down the hall, the guards that are usually at the end now gone. “You can actually slide across them if you run fast enough.”

“Can you?” Tommy asks, eyeing the hallway with interest. “Well, I’m not going to just run around being the only one in my socks.”

“What, you want me to take off my shoes?” Wilbur asks, lingering in the doorway and looking at Tommy with a displeased face.

“Yes.”

“I’m going to give a no.”

“Then you’re being quite mean to me.”

Technoblade joins in on their conversation. “Actually, it would be more quiet if we snuck around without shoes.” He adds, Wilbur looking at him with narrowed eyes, Tommy giving an almost evil smile. “Just saying.”

---

A few minutes later, Tommy is following Wilbur down a hall, Technoblade right behind them, shoes gone as per Tommy’s request. 

Wilbur was right about the sliding thing, they tried it out a few times, stopping at a particular hall and Tommy running as fast as he could, sliding across the floor and trying to not fall backwards. 

“You’ve got to build up speed, and keep your balance, don’t lean back. Don’t hit your head either, because if you get hurt, Dad’s going to kill us.” Wilbur instructs, Technoblade sitting on the floor at the end of the hall. He waits beside the wall, waiting to do damage control when Tommy inevitably trips and falls. 

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” Tommy mutters, taking a few steps back. “I’ve done this with Tubbo before.” Back at the orphanage, when they had sweeping duty, and instead of sweeping the halls they tried sliding across the floor with a folded blanket. They had gotten in trouble for that, half because they didn’t sweep, half because Tubbo had gotten slammed into the wall hard enough to get a concussion. Tubbo’s sturdy, though, he was fine. Mostly. 

“Tubbo?” Wilbur asks, but Tommy waves him off, going into a sprint, and sliding down the hall with a whoop. “Who’s Tubbo?!” Wilbur yells after him, but Tommy just expertly slides away from that question.

Then he nearly slams into a wall, Technoblade having to practically tackle him to get him to slow down. 

---

After a few minutes of Tommy tripping over on the floor repeatedly and zooming through the hall at the speed of sound, Wilbur does drag them off to their actual destination, before Tommy ends up giving himself a concussion. 

Tommy is just mostly annoyed that Technoblade is ridiculously good at keeping his balance when sliding across the floor. He had even done a spin at one point, truly just showing off. Wilbur had booed at him from the end of the hall, Tommy joining in. 

They had quickly abandoned their booing when Technoblade turned his attention to them and started sprinting though, more focused on getting away. 

They walk now, making their way through the halls, Wilbur at Tommy’s left, Technoblade at his right. He’s busy poking at the back of his hand, which still kinda hurts from when it got hit against a wall. Better his hand than his head, though. 

Technoblade said it wasn’t broken, but Tommy begs to differ. 

“Stop poking at your hand.” Wilbur nudges Tommy in the shoulder, Tommy huffing.

“It’s broken.” 

“It’s not broken. Bruised, maybe-” Technoblade says, Tommy just glaring at him as a response. 

“It feels pretty broken.” 

“Does it really? Phil’s going to kill us.” Wilbur mumbles under his breath. “Technoblade-”

“I already checked- ” Technoblade holds out a hand, and Tommy gives his palm for Technoblade to poke at it. “Your fingers seem fine. You can wait till morning, if it still hurts by then, then we can tell Phil about it.” 

“Then I can tell him you broke my fucking hand.” 

“I didn’t do anything, blame Will.” Technoblade lets go of Tommy’s hand, pointing a finger to Wilbur, who makes an offended noise.

“Sure, okay- look, look, the kitchens are over here.” Wilbur walks ahead, Tommy following at his heels to go through a tall door that swings easily when they push it open. 

Tommy’s hit with the smell of something sweet and yet also burnt, and he’s reminded of the bakery back home. His mood is significantly dampened with the fact that Tubbo isn’t going to be here till tomorrow. 

Wilbur seems to notice the sudden drop in mood, and he pushes Tommy along, walking over to what looks to be a wall of ovens. It’s warm, and Tommy hears the sound of some pans being moved around clanging loudly against each other. 

“No, that’s not the right bowl!” He hears from around the corner, and he finds two people standing by a table, ingredients scattered around. 

“What do you mean it’s not the right bowl, it’s a bowl!” Quackity waves around a wooden spoon, Karl slapping a hand onto his own face. 

“No, you’re supposed to- that one, over there-”

“It’s the same!” Quackity insists.

“It’s a different size, you’re going to dirty a big bowl for no reason-”

“Hello!” Wilbur chimes, the two of them turning their heads, freezing. 

“Oh no.” Quackity says under his breath as he spots the familiar faces of the twins.

“Hello, your highness!” Karl greets back, waving at Wilbur. Quackity just points his spoon towards Wilbur while yelling. 

“You know, one of these days, His Majesty is going to ban you from going through the goddamn pantries! Every single night, without fail, I swear-” 

“We don’t come here every night.” Technoblade defends, Wilbur nodding. “It’s more like every week.” 

Quackity smacks the table with the spoon, sighing loudly and hanging his head over the mess of flour on the table. “Yeah, yeah.” 

He turns his attention to Tommy, his mood simmering down into confusion. “Hold on, who’s this?”

“Oh!” Karl smacks a hand against Quackity’s arm repeatedly, leaning in to whisper loudly. “That’s the new kid, from earlier this morning? Uh, what was his name, Timmy? Tom?” Tommy makes a face at being called ‘Timmy’.

“Thomas!” Quackity greets, waving his arms out. “Ey, nice to meet you, man. I hope you’re not going to be here as often as these fuckers-” He points a thumb to Technoblade and Wilbur. “-stealing food right out of the storage, every time-”

“Hey, technically this is our kitchen.” Wilbur points out, Quackity shaking his head as Karl snickers into his palm. 

“I don’t see you using it, you just come in for snacks at ungodly times of the night-” 

“Midnight is the best time for food.” Technoblade shrugs. 

“I won’t be as bad as them.” Tommy cuts in, voice confident as he scoffs. He’s not going to be that long. “I’m just here for the night, anyways.” He answers Quackity, and the kitchen seems to go still, everyone staring at him. 

Tommy blinks, too aware of how there are eyes on him, and how Quackity has gone from cussing out Wilbur to just blinking at Tommy with a confused face. 

“What?” Tommy asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Wait, no one’s told him?” Karl asks, looking at Technoblade, pointing a finger towards Tommy, who looks at him with a bewildered expression. 

Wilbur and Techno share a glance from behind Tommy, and Wilbur immediately goes to push Tommy forward, laughing nervously as Technoblade coughs suspiciously. “OKAYYY- How about some food? Tommy, come look at the pantry-”

“Wait, told me what-?” Tommy goes to question, but Wilbur’s pushing him along and they pass the table, Karl barely stifling his giggling as Quackity holds his hands up in surrender as Technoblade points a threatening finger his way. 

---

There is so much more food than Tommy thought there’d be. 

Really, he should’ve expected it, seeing as it’s the castle, royal kitchens, but it’s a lot different than the kitchens back at the orphanage. He thought that was a lot of food, it’s nothing compared to this. 

There’s rows upon rows of supplies, a bunch of different ingredients and snacks, and Wilbur actually pulls a ladder down one of the rows to reach something on a shelf. 

“Hey, Tommy, catch.” Wilbur says, throwing down a box from where he’s standing up on the ladder. 

Tommy scrambles to rush forward, snatching the box out of the air. It’s a bright red, actually a bit familiar, Tommy feels like he’s seen it before. He shakes it. 

“What’s this?” Tommy asks, Technoblade plucking it out of his hands and opening up a small hole at the corner. 

He pours out chocolate chips, eating them just like that. Tommy’s reminded of where he’s seen it before, at the local stores, the red box sitting on the shelves. He’s never bought a box just to eat them like that, though. 

Tommy holds out a hand. Techno gives a small pile of chocolate chips without question. 

“Hey, question.” Technoblade says to Tommy, the two of them watching as Wilbur rummages through the shelves above them. 

“What?”

“Who’s Tubbo?” He asks, and Tommy nearly chokes on the chocolate chips.

“Yes, I would like to know that too! You mentioned a Tubbo back out in the hall, and then you fucking slid away before I got an answer-” Wilbur adds. 

Coughing a bit, Tommy chews at the rest of the chocolate bits in his mouth, swallowing and thinking for a moment. “Uh, he’s my best friend, back in my town. We’ve been together since we were little.”

“Technoblade’s my best friend.” Wilbur leans back, grinning down at Tommy. Technoblade just scoffs.

“I’m your brother.” Techno throws a chocolate chip up at Wilbur, missing.

“Best friend.” Wilbur insists, grabbing a container of what looks like maybe crackers. He drops it down to Technoblade. 

Tommy continues with his answer. “Yeah, me and Tubbo, we’ve been together our whole lives, almost every single day. He’s going to fucking murder me on the spot when I see him tomorrow.” 

“We’ll host a nice funeral.” Technoblade tells Tommy, Tommy not at all liking that answer. 

“Oh, so that’s who Phil’s invited.” Wilbur says, climbing down the ladder. “I heard a few rumors about someone getting invited up but I didn’t know it’d be your Tubbo.”

“Is he cool?” Technoblade asks, Tommy grinning. 

“The coolest.”

“Nice.” 

---

Phil hums quietly over his desk as he looks over another pile of papers, requests for confirmation on certain projects, updates on certain communities. They’re important, for sure, but Phil’s only really skimming him, and his mind is elsewhere.

There's a small stack of papers at the corner of his desk, something that isn’t exactly work related at all, but he reaches for it anyway. He’s been working for a good couple hours, anyway, and this is important too. 

Failing at holding back a yawn, Phil reads over a file he had gotten from Tommy’s orphanage, information over his date of birth, any particularly concerning incidents, any relatives. 

No relatives, which Phil expected. There’s a few incidents marked down that Phil also somewhat expected, each and every single one also including Tubbo being right by Tommy. 

Tommy’s caused a fair share of trouble, but it’s nothing terribly bad, rather just the type of chaos he would expect from Technoblade and Wilbur. 

Stole property from a business (it was a chair), got into several fights with some of the kids (only rarely though, and Phil wouldn’t doubt for a moment that they were at least somewhat justified), broke a window not once, not twice, but three times by chucking several objects through it (Phil isn’t sure if he wants to know the context behind that one). 

Something that is unexpected is when Phil looks at Tommy’s registered name. 

“Huh.” Phil says out loud, blinking down at the paper. Theseus. His name was written down on the basket he arrived in. No last name, of course, but his actual name seems to be Theseus. Phil wonders who gave the nickname Tommy.

Tommy suits the teen better anyway, maybe he’s just not fond of a serious sounding name like that, but Phil feels like Technoblade would like the name. 

Looking over the rest of the information, Phil pauses at something standing out, and he sits up in his chair. Written down in a little box by Tommy’s birthday (and Phil reminds himself to plan something for that) is a few extra vague details.

‘Suspected hybrid, maybe of avian type? Tattoo of wings on his back, which has grown over the years, but no physical wings. Since there is virtually no information on a possible avian hybrid, it’s not known how development is supposed to go, but as of currently, no other physical traits to be noted.’

Phil thinks he’s stopped breathing. 

He has to put the paper down before he crumples it in his grip, and he leans back in his seat, blinking slowly at the paper on his desk. 

How.

How can Phil be this lucky?

What are the chances, the actual chances, of him meeting Tommy, who’s endearing enough on his own, but also possibly the first ever, besides Phil, to have wings ?

Phil has to clear his throat, leaning his head down on the desk with a deep breath. 

Hell, what are the chances ?

He considers over asking Tommy about this, trying to bring it up, but it’s too early for that, and Tommy still oughta settle in. He could wait until Tommy brings it up himself. 

Deciding on that, and trying to ignore the way his heart is pounding in his chest, Phil raises his head, calling for the guard that’s placed beside the door of his office.

He realizes it’s gotten rather late. It’s past midnight, now.

“Your Grace?” The guard answers, and Phil goes to try and somewhat organize the mess of papers on his desk. 

“Send someone down into the town where Tommy was picked up and spread the rumor that Tommy got back home from the castle late at night.” Phil says, piling papers up into a stack. If Tommy is to stay here, he’s going to become the next big news topic on newspapers for the next week, at least. If Phil’s going to simmer that down, it’d be good to send the idea that Tommy never stayed at all. 

After he’s asked Tommy about staying for good, and all the official documents are put through, then he can announce that he’s taken in a new son. 

After that, the newspapers are free to go wild.

The guard walks off with the new order, and Phil yawns again, taking the paper with Tommy’s info again and reading over that small bit next to his name. 

Wings.

Phil is the luckiest father in the empire.

---

“So I told him, ‘no, that’s a shit deal, you’re trying to rob me of my money’ and well, he didn’t respond well to that.” Tommy rambles, popping a chocolate chip in his mouth as he continues to tell a story about how a shop owner once tried to scam him. 

Techno and Wilbur listen attentively, the three of them walking down the halls back to their rooms, not in any big rush. 

“I would imagine.” Technoblade deadpans, Tommy scoffing. 

“Oh, yeah, he was pissed, his face got all red and ugly, and that’s what I told him, I said ‘your face is getting all red and ugly’ and he didn’t like that one all that much either, I think.”

Wilbur snorts.

“Did you get kicked out of the store?” Technoblade asks, eating a chocolate chip. 

“Actually, I think he was just going to fight me, me! A child! I would have kicked his ass, although I would also laugh if he got arrested for assaulting me. But yeah, he was leaning over the counter, being all angry and shit, and then Tubbo grabs me by the back of my shirt and practically drags me out of the store, all the way out to the street.”

“I think I like Tubbo.” Wilbur comments, Technoblade huffing. 

“So I go ‘Tubbo what the fuck! What about the bread we were going to buy?!’ and then I find out that he fucking shoved it into his shirt and stole it, actually.”

“I like Tubbo.” Wilbur announces, Tommy holding back a laugh. “I think me and him will be good friends.”

“No, he’s my friend, fuck off.” 

“I can be his next friend, since you’re dying tomorrow.” Wilbur points out, Tommy nodding regretfully. Last night of living, tonight, his death will be swift at the hands of an angry Tubbo. 

“I’ll still haunt you, I’ll be his- his ghost best friend, and you’re going to be a boring alive friend.” Tommy says, Wilbur rolling his eyes. 

“Ghosts are cooler than alive people.” Technoblade adds in, Tommy nodding his head intensely. 

“Pfft, okay, sure-” Wilbur goes to start his defense, but he’s cut off by another voice.

“What are you boys doing up?” Phil asks, all three of them freezing, turning around to see Phil behind him, smiling fondly with his arms crossed. His eyes flick to Tommy, and to the food held in their hands. “And why is Tommy out of bed?” He looks to their feet. “And where are your...shoes?”

“Oh. Well, Dad, you see-” Wilbur goes to answer, then grabs Tommy by the hand and goes into a sprint. “RUN!”

“Oy-!” Phil goes to follow, the three of them frantically running down the hall to the living quarters, which aren’t that far, only a few turns away. 

“Oh, fuck, wait-” Tommy laughs, stumbling in his steps as he’s practically dragged along by Wilbur, Techno grabbing his other hand and continuing to run right beside him. 

“It is way too late to be running at this time.” Techno complains, and Wilbur tells him to suck it up. 

---

They’re caught before they can make it to their rooms, and Tommy sits against the wall by their rooms, a box of chocolate chips in his hands as Phil lightly scolds both Wilbur and Technoblade for their nightly shenanigans.

“And why did you drag Tommy out of bed?” Phil asks, not being able to keep off the smile on his face at the thought of the three of them getting along. 

“What if he dragged us out of bed?” Technoblade suggests. Tommy throws a chocolate chip, aiming for Techno’s head. It hits his shoulder instead. “Hey!”

Phil laughs, Wilbur giving his own input. “We just thought a snack would be nice.”

“At midnight?”

“No better time.”

“There are so many other times you could’ve picked- why do you two always sneak off to the kitchens past midnight? Yes, I’ve noticed.” Technoblade and Wilbur both look at the floor like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Tommy snorts.

Phil sighs with a smile, shaking his head. “Go to sleep, both of you.” He asks, and he presses a kiss to their foreheads, pushing them off to their rooms. 

“Fine, fine.”

“Night.”

Tommy gets up so he can go to sleep too, and he lets Technoblade steal the box of chocolate chips as he passes, not wanting to take that with him to his room. Phil stops him before he can go down the hall, though.

“Tommy, hold on.”

“Huh?” Tommy pauses, Phil waving a hand to follow as he walks over to his own room. 

“I wanted to give you something.” Phil says, motioning for Tommy to wait, before going into his bedroom, Tommy having to stand out in the hall for a moment, waiting. 

Phil comes out with something folded neatly in his hands, a light blue fabric. 

“Here. I thought you’d like it as a gift.” Phil says, Tommy carefully taking it from Phil’s hand and unfolding it, realizing he’s been handed a cape.

A really soft, fancy cape. It fades into white at the ends, reminding him of the snow outside, and Tommy blinks, lagging mentally for a minute as he tries to process what is in his hands.

Wait. “Gift?” Tommy repeats, blinking again, running his thumbs over the fabric. 

“Yeah. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s-” Tommy stammers, shaking his head. “Well, it’s fucking cool, but I can’t have this.”

“Sure you can. You’re holding it, I gave it to you, now it’s yours.” Phil shrugs, Tommy sputtering. 

“But, this is-” Tommy laughs, Phil grinning. “Why?”

Phil shrugs. “Why not? I thought you’d like it.” 

Tommy stares, words lost from him, and Phil just pushes him gently to go down the hall. “Now go to sleep. It’s late.”

“Thank you. Really.” Tommy is able to get out, taking a few steps back. “And, uhm. Goodnight!”

“Night.” Phil answers, and watches Tommy run off with a fond smile, the door closing behind him. 

Chapter Text

“So, what are the chances that you calm down and go to slee-” Ranboo ducks as a plate gets thrown his way, banging off the wall and hitting the floor with a clatter. “Okay, so, zero.”

“What the fuck!” Tubbo screams, pacing back and forth through the kitchen, waving around an unfolded letter in his hands. The envelope was ripped open a while ago, right after Tubbo slammed the door in Eret’s face and stomped off to read the invitation in the peace and quiet of the kitchen. 

Niki had opened the door again to apologize, choosing to instead make nice conversation with the man while Tubbo raised hellfire by the ovens. 

Ranboo made the less smart decision, and went to go check out how that was going. 

“One day! He leaves for ONE. DAY. And he gets in contact with the EMPEROR!?” Tubbo kicks at the ovens, a metal clang ringing out. Ranboo feels like that should’ve hurt his foot, but Tubbo continues to walk as if nothing has happened, even with the newly added dent in the side of the oven. “Oh, I’m going to have to fucking- attach a leash to back of his shirt after this- I’m never letting him out of my sight! Never again! Last time was bad, sure, but how the fuck did he get TO THE CASTLE!?”

“What happened last time?” Ranboo asks, Tubbo pausing in his pacing for just a moment. 

“Last time he went out of my sight without informing me, he fought a racoon.” Tubbo says calmly, holding up the blank stare towards Ranboo for a moment. 

Ranboo looks away. “Well. At least he didn’t fight anyone this time? I mean, do you really think he fought the Emperor?”

“I think,” Tubbo lifts his chin up high, then holds the letter out in front of him, skimming over the words again. “-that he’s fucking DEAD-”

“That’s drastic-”

“What does it even MEAN that the emperor is ‘fond of his company-’ Here, here-” Tubbo shoves the paper towards Ranboo, Ranboo stumbling to hold onto it properly. “Read it, read it. Maybe it’ll make more sense in your very calm, soothing voice.”

Ranboo laughs nervously, Tubbo staring up at him with a seething anger in his gaze. “I mean, I think it’ll sound the same-”

“Read it.”

“Ohh-kay-” Ranboo clears his throat, holding the paper closer to his face. “To the residents who live in the bakery by the central plaza near Tommy’s home, specifically Tubbo, who’s he’s mentioned a lot, I’d like to invite you up to the castle tomorrow evening. Tommy is a long way from home, and he’s had a hectic day, so he’s been here at the castle in the meantime. Not to worry though, I’m fond of his company, and with what little I’ve seen of his habits, I can assume that you would be worried as to where he’s been for the past 24 hours or so. Well, he’s at the castle. It’s a long story. Come by tomorrow and I’m sure we can talk about it over some tea.”

“From, Phil.” Tubbo finishes off for him, clasping his hands together and pressing them to his face, eyes burning a hole through the ground. “Emperor of the Antarctic Empire.”

“Huh, didn’t know his name was Phil.” Ranboo mutters, skimming over the letter again. It’s short, it’s simple, it’s handwritten neatly on light blue paper, and Ranboo tries to smooth out the crinkles Tubbo’s left on it from holding it so tightly. “He seems nice.”

“I’m going to kill him! I’m going to kill him.” Tubbo turns around, letting out a scream, then crumbling to the floor with a groan. 

“The Emperor?!”

“No, Tommy.” Tubbo corrects, turning his face, his cheek smushed against the cool tile. “The emperor would be too hard to kill, anyway.” He mumbles under his breath. 

“Hey!” Niki calls from the door, still in a pleasant conversation with Eret. “Don’t die over there!”

“I will die where I please!” Tubbo snaps back, rolling over onto his back. “I can’t believe him. I can’t believe this- we have talked about going to the Emperor before, and good for him that he met him! Bad for him, when I get my hands on him for meeting him WITHOUT TELLING ME!”

Ranboo sighs good-naturedly, crawling down on the floor to sit beside Tubbo. He folds the letter in his hands back up, creasing the edges neatly with his fingers. “You guys have talked about going to the emperor?”

“Yeah, for his…” Tubbo trails off, an arm thrown over his eyes, and he stops, going still. “....thing.”

“...what thing?”

Tubbo frowns, sitting up abruptly. “The thing, Ranboo. Of course!”

“Oh. Right. The thing!” Ranboo nods, then slowly ends up shaking his head. “...I don’t know what the thing is.”

“Oh my god, he must’ve told him!” Tubbo yells, slapping his hands onto Ranboo’s face, holding him in a death grip. “I mean, what other reason would Tommy be up at the castle?!”

“Uh-” Ranboo lags, hunching over at an awkward angle with Tubbo holding onto his face. 

“Don’t answer that, actually.” Tubbo stumbles to his feet. “We got to make a cake! Two cakes.” He holds up two fingers in front of him, tugs at his shirt with the other hand, trying to think properly. “Hm.”

Tubbo knows Tommy, and he knows that the wings on his back have gotten no result, no matter what they do. The emperor is the only other person they’ve ever heard of about getting wings, and really, going up to him was just never an option, purely because of status. Who would believe two orphan kids when they come up and say, ‘hey, so he has wings, and we’ve got no clue how to make them- uh, appear?’

Surely Tommy’s found a way, somehow, to tell Phil, right? That seems like the obvious reason he’s at the castle right now, but then again, Tubbo still doesn’t want to accidentally spill anything that doesn’t need to be spilled. Tubbo’s kept that secret with him all his life. Tommy’s made him promise to never tell it to anyone, unless he said to. 

“Why are we making cakes?” Ranboo asks. 

Tubbo spins around, nodding. He will just dance around the topic when they get to the castle. Unless the Emperor says it outright, then he will act none the wiser. Besides, that’s hardly the most important thing on Tubbo’s mind right now. 

Tommy’s imminent death is. 

“Because we can’t just go to the castle with nothing! One cake for Tommy, and one cake for the Emperor, for putting up with Tommy. We’re poisoning Tommy’s cake.” Tubbo kneels down at Ranboo's level where he’s still sitting on the floor. “Do you know how to poison a cake?”

“I’m not going to answer that…?” Ranboo trails off, Tubbo making an annoyed sound and pushing him away by the face. 

“Niki! Do we have hot sauce!?” Tubbo yells, running out of the kitchen and jumping over the counter. Ranboo watches him go with a quiet hope that Tommy’s death will be quick. 

“Do we have what?!” Niki squawks, turning around as Tubbo stumbles over to the front door.

“Hot sauce.” Tubbo’s feet skid on the floor as he comes to a stop by the doorway. “You, Eret- nice glasses.”

“Thanks.” Eret grins, tilting his head the slightest bit in confusion at Tubbos previous statement.  

“I need hot sauce.” Tubbo turns to Niki again, making a sad pout as if he’s being so terribly inconvenienced by this lack of hot sauce. “Pleeease.”

“Why do you need hot sauce?” Eret asks, before Niki can point out that they don’t have hot sauce and that Tubo probably shouldn’t have his hands on any. 

“I’m going to poison someone tomorrow, and the death will be glorious and just.” Tubbo answers, rolling up his sleeves with a grin. He turns back around to walk towards the kitchen. “Ranboo! Turn on the oven!”

---

Tommy wakes up slowly.

Which is weird right off the bat, because he usually wakes up to a knock at his and Tubbo’s door, or sleeps right through the knock and wakes up to Tubbo slamming a pillow over his head telling him to rise from the dead already. 

The bed is soft, ridiculously soft, and he blames it on being half-asleep, turning over and burying his face into a comfy pillow with a sigh. Maybe the caretakers let them sleep in today. It’ll mean him and Tubbo have to miss breakfast, but overall, it’s not much of a loss, that one. 

Tommy can faintly hear the sound of wind up against his window, and he wonders where the creaking noise that always comes with has gone. The window in his and Tubbo’s room always creaked and groaned whenever the weather was something other than sunny, and right now, it doesn’t make any noise at all. It throws him off with the peaceful silence, because he’s used to that background noise so much, and shouldn’t it be all creaky and shit with the wind?

Tommy carefully stretches an arm out in front of him, yawning with his eyes still tightly shut. He waits for his hand to hit the wall that his bed is usually up against, and he folds out his arm, stretching, stretching, and-

Wait. 

Tommy’s entire arm is stretched out across the mattress, and he knows his bed is not big enough to do that. He blindly searches around for his wall, the wall of his room that always smells like dust, weird, but homey, and he only finds more bed. 

He takes a deep breath in. Where’s the dusty smell?

Opening his eyes, Tommy squints blearily over his pillow to see sunlight shining across the room, the room-

Tommy freezes. 

This isn’t his room. 

He sits up with a jolt, shaking his head and blinking hard to get the sleep off of him, and he looks around to see that it’s the same room from yesterday, big and spacious, a fancy rug on the ground, a shiny mirror to the side, the doors to a balcony-

This isn’t his room. 

Oh fuck, yesterday wasn’t a dream. 

Tommy blinks, once, twice, then scrambles to get out of bed, struggling with the blankets and falling out of bed instead, crumpling onto the ground in a heap of limbs and tangled blankets.

“Oh, fucking-” Tommy mutters, kicking his legs to crawl out of the grasps of his evil, but very soft and comfy, blankets. He stumbles to his feet, stepping off the blue rug that’s around his bed to the cool tile that’s put down around the rest of the room. 

It’s a bit cold, a slight chill in the air, and Tommy looks over to the fireplace across the bed (fireplace! A fireplace in his room!) and notices that it’s long since been out. 

He’s in the castle. 

Holy shit, Tommy has just woken up in the castle, and turns out last night wasn’t a dream or a hallucination, the emperor actually gave him a room to sleep in for the night, even with all the shit he pulled yesterday. 

Tommy winces. Oh, he did not make a good impression yesterday. What are the chances guards throw him out within the next ten minutes or so, now that he’s awake?

He scans the room again, biting at the inside of his cheek as he feels anticipation and excitement thrumming through his veins. 

Might as well make the most of being here. Time to snoop around, he thinks. 

There’s a nightstand beside the bed, and Tommy goes after that first, looking through the drawers and finding nothing. There’s the book that Techno and Wilbur gave him sitting on top of it though, right beside a lamp, and Tommy picks it up carefully, flipping it open to the first few pages. 

The nether, oh, so cool. He wishes he could go there, the things he could see. Him and Tubbo love having their discussions about the mobs that roam around untamed lands, but in Tommy’s opinion, the things in the nether have to be just the coolest. If the dragon were still alive, that would be on the top of his list, but it’s been dead since before Tommy was born, so. Big bummer, that. 

He crawls back onto the bed, reading through the pages for a little while, murmuring words under his breath as he reads through the basic information of the nether, of the things explorers have found out, have seen. 

Technoblade and Wilbur have been to the nether, Tommy thinks, grinning a little as he tries to imagine that. From what little he’s seen, they bicker so much, and he faintly wonders if they are actually immune to lava, or if he’s just remembering wrong from last night. 

Remembering that he’s meant to be poking around the room while he still has it, Tommy puts the book down to the side, rolling off the mattress to search around some more. The fireplace hasn’t got anything, just burnt out wood. The mantel of the fireplace doesn’t hold anything, and it looks kinda barren, with nothing on it. After a moment, Tommy goes and grabs the book about the nether, and he puts it on the shelf. It doesn’t do much, but it looks kinda better. 

There’s a big dresser beside the fireplace, made of dark wood that’s cool to the touch when Tommy presses his fingertips to it, and when he looks through the drawers, he finds nothing there too. 

He looks under the bed, finds nothing, looks onto the balcony for a quick second, finds nothing, except for a cold gush of air that sends goosebumps down his shirt. There’s a door that lead to a small bathroom, and Tommy marvels at the fact there’s a fucking bathroom right here, then marvels at how shiny the counters are. 

Taking a moment to fix his hair, because it has been a mess from waking up, he leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and turning his eyes onto the only thing left in the room. 

Closet. 

This one has a sliding door made of wood, which means it leaves Tommy in suspense until he’s able to pull it open, showing a small room that’s a bit dim and empty. There’s a bunch of drawers and places for clothes to hang, but nothing actually hanging. 

Well, except for one set of clean, blue clothes innocently placed on the top of a little table at the middle of the room. 

Tommy eyes it with suspicion, then goes to pick it up, finding that it’s just a clean button up shirt. There’s new pants to go along with it, and under it, the cape Phil had given him. 

Was this put here for him? Tommy’s a bit concerned that he didn’t wake up when someone came into his room, or, the room, the room isn’t his-

He shakes his head. It would be weird to walk around with the same clothes from yesterday, wouldn’t it? And these were put here for a reason, probably, for him. There’s nothing else in the room, anyway, it’d be weird for these not to be for him. 

The room is empty, strangely so, like it’s been waiting for the person who lives here to come back from a long trip. There should be belongings in here, some sort of mark that shows that the room gets used, but it’s strangely empty, and clean. It feels lonely, almost, and that single book up on the fireplace mantel helps a little, at least.

You would think they would make a guest room a bit more inviting. 

Tommy huffs, changing into new clothes, and immediately noticing how soft they are compared to his usual ones. It’s almost uncomfortable, to be honest. He’s used to the stretched out, worn fabric of his usual shirts, not this. 

But he doesn’t have room to complain, especially when he’s in the fucking castle! If things go well, Tommy hopes to be able to see more around here, before he inevitably is given the boot. 

Speaking of boots. Or shoes, really. Where are his shoes?

He’s got no shoes, only socks, and he cannot for the life of him remember where they've gone. He remembers kicking them off before going to sleep, then getting rudely woken up by the princes barging into the room like they own the place. 

Well, they do own the place. But this is Tommy’s room. For now, at the moment. So, while he’s here, he oughta have some jurisdiction over it.  

As much as he searches high and low, there’s no shoes to be found, and Tommy gives up on the search, grumbling under his breath as he pulls the cape over his shoulders. 

Oh. It’s soft.

Tommy grins, waving the cape around, hopping in place for a moment. Look at him, look at him now! He’s got a cape from the emperor himself. He’s the luckiest person ever. Tubbo is going to be so jealous after he murders him. 

 With nothing left to do, and Tommy deeming himself acceptable enough to exist around royalty, he goes for the door, creaking it open just a crack, and peering outside into the hallway. 

He doesn’t hear anything, it seems empty. 

He opens it more, and slips out, closing it gently behind him. The tile of the hallway is cold under his socks, and he feels unhappy with the loss of his shoes, and also feels a bit tempted to try sliding across the hallway again, just to feel something. Something like adrenaline. And getting in trouble. 

Maybe not the smartest idea, considering where he is, but hey, look at his track record, and at the very least you won’t be surprised. 

“Hey!” Someone yells, and Tommy turns his head to find two guards at the end of the hall pointing towards him, one of them walking over. The other walks off.

Here’s the moment, he’s getting kicked out. Right after he woke up too, damn. 

“Uh-” Tommy holds his hands up, stepping back. 

“His majesty in his office right now.” The guard says, waving up a hand and throwing Tommy very off guard. “Shall I escort you to breakfast? He said he would meet you there after you woke up.”

Tommy blinks. Squints a little, wonders if he’s still asleep. 

“What.” He gives as a response. 

The guard tilts their head. “The emperor wanted to meet up with you at breakfast when you woke up. Do you want to go now, or should I send word that you’re going back to sleep?”

“No, no-” Tommy waves his arms, laughing a little. “Uhm, I could go for breakfast.” He shrugs. 

“Follow me, then.” 

Tommy follows along, getting whisked off through the halls over to the dining room that he had been in before. It’s clean from the mess that happened yesterday, and there’s a few plates placed at the end of the table. Not nearly as much food as yesterday, but still rather a lot for just breakfast. 

“You can go and sit down. His majesty should be here shortly, and we’ll be just outside the room.” The guard says, Tommy walking in hesitantly, glancing back at the guard with a nervous smile. 

“Ah- Thanks.” He grins, and he gets a smile in return, and the door closing slowly behind him. 

Well. This is awkward. 

He makes his way over to the end of the table, choosing to sit at the chair that’s to the side, rather than the one that’s at the very edge, a bit bigger than all the other chairs. 

Why’s he here again? Breakfast? Sounds nice, he won’t pass that offer up, especially if the food is as good as yesterday, but also he is a bit confused as to why Phil is supposed to come eat with him. Surely he would’ve eaten already, before doing emperor things. 

Tommy picks at his eggs, frowning a bit as he realizes that Phil really is the emperor. How the hell did he have the time to hang out with Tommy all day yesterday? The man should have an insane schedule, with the size of the empire. 

He wonders where Wilbur and Techno are for a second, and then he wonders if he’s going to be able to say goodbye to them before he’s sent off. They are royalty, even if they’re annoying. Tommy thinks the fact that they’ve even gone to the nether is cool, and personally, he wouldn’t mind having one more conversation with the two of them before going back to his familiar town. 

There’s a small knock at the door, and Tommy raises his head to see it pushed open, Phil walking in, his head looking behind him as he finishes up saying something to the guard.

“-don’t let him hear you say that, mate.” He grins, walking past the door and grinning wide when he sees Tommy. “Tommy, good morning.” The door shuts quietly behind him. 

“Hello.” Tommy gives as a greeting, still chewing on his food. He clears his throat to try again. “Morning.”

“Did you sleep well? With Techno and Wilbur waking you up so late, I wasn’t sure…” Phil walks past behind Tommy’s seat, and Tommy twists around in his chair to keep a steady gaze the whole way. 

Phil’s dressed up way too nicely to be having breakfast with Tommy right now. He’s dressed up in nice dark blues, a silver crown resting on his head, and even his wings seem to shine in a way that just shows how important he is. Tommy shrinks a little in his seat. Oh, Phil’s so cool. 

“I slept fine.” Tommy answers, Phil sitting down and scooting up in his seat to eat his own food. “I was just thrown off by the room, to be honest, I thought I was still back in my own room, but my bed is not that big.”

“You have a tiny room?” Phil asks, taking a bite of his food. 

“No, it’s not tiny, it’s just not fucking huge like the one I woke up in.” 

Phil snorts. “You’ll get used to it.” 

Tommy shakes his head. Even if he got to stay here for a whole week, that room is still a jarring change from what he’s used to. “I don’t think I ever could, that room has a balcony. A balcony, Phil! And a big closet, although it’s empty as hell.”

“I did give at least some clothes.” Phil points with his fork at Tommy’s shirt. “And I’ll send some more later. I was hoping you could pick them out yourself, so you wouldn’t be upset with anything you didn’t like.”

“Oh, no no-” Tommy drops his fork, leaning over the table. “You already got enough, Phil, I mean, this cape is awesome, that’s good enough for me to bring back.” Also, Tommy can’t imagine what the caretakers would think if he came back with a fuckton of gifts from the emperor. They’d probably think he got blackmail on him, or something. “Oh, but can I keep this book I got?”

Phil blinks at Tommy for a moment, smiling strangely, then seeming to finally process Tommy’s question. “What book?”

“Technoblade and Wilbur gave me this book, about the nether and stuff. It’s way more than anything I’ve ever seen in a store or library, so could I take that back with me too? When I get back to the home.”

Phil snickers, holding a hand to his mouth. Tommy wonders if he’s said something wrong. 

“Or not, I mean, it’s just a book-” He backtracks. 

“No, no, mate, don’t worry. It’s yours. If they gifted it to you, then it’s yours to keep. Where do you have it?”

Tommy’s heart soars. Fuck yes, he’s keeping a book about the nether. Tubbo’s going to freak.

“I put it over the fireplace thing. On the shelf.” Tommy nods. 

“Alright. I’m pretty sure they gave you the first one, which is just basic information. That’s part of a series though, so I’ll have the rest of the books put in your room-”

“Wha-” Tommy sputters, trying to decline. “No, one book is fine, I mean, it’ll get heavy to carry, won’t it-”

“Hm, nope.” Phil grins. “Don’t worry about it, mate. Besides, it’d be nicer to have a bunch of books on the shelf than just one, right?”

Tommy nods, mouth clicking shut. He’s not going to argue. Maybe Phil will just have a bunch of people carry his stuff back home. God, that sounds kinda embarrassing, but Tommy is not going to turn down a gift like that. Even if it means he’ll be the talk of the town for a bit. 

“Thanks, Phil.” Tommy smiles, trying to push all the appreciation he can through one smile. Maybe it’s not much to Phil, now that Tommy thinks about it. The guy is rich, isn’t he? He probably thinks giving a bunch of books to Tommy is just a few coins, compared to his wealth. Well, that explains it. 

Phil hums, and they eat in silence for a few minutes, before Tommy’s bringing up another question. 

“Hey, where’s Wilbur and Technoblade?” Tommy asks, pushing the food around with his fork absent-mindedly. 

“Hm, I think Techno was testing out weapons in the courtyard, and Wilbur’s either watching him wipe the floor with the poor guards, or is sparring against him.” Phil tells. 

“Shouldn’t they be here?” Tommy asks. 

“You want them to be here? I mean, I doubt they’d mind-”

“No, not-” Tommy waves a hand. “I mean, aren’t you supposed to eat breakfast with them?”

“Ah, no, I didn’t eat breakfast this morning. I wanted to wait for you, but I thought you should sleep in, considering, well.” Phil shrugs. “Everything.” And that’s one way to sum it all up. 

Tommy struggles to push words out of his throat. “Oh.” He croaks out, laughing a little. “Cool.”

Phil smiles. “Yup, and- by the way, I also wanted to have a talk with you later today, after Tubbo’s gotten here.” 

“Tubbo!” Tommy slams his hands down on the table, sitting up straight. “Holy shit, I forgot he was coming over here!” He grins wide, even with his next words. “I’m going to be so dead!”

Phil breaks out in a laugh, leaning over and wheezing. 

“What do you mean dead-”

“Nevermind that, nevermind, we are going to gloss over it.” Tommy laughs nervously, pushing his plate forward. “So wait, talk? What did you want to talk about?”

“Personally, I want to wait till the paperwork in order. Then I’ll tell you. Then you can think about it.” Phil shrugs, being vague on purpose. 

“What?” Tommy makes a face, confused. 

“After Tubbo.” Phil insists. “Are you excited to see him?”

Tommy still feels a bit suspicious at Phil dancing around a Talk, and he’s concerned that it’s not going to go well, but Phil’s face shows no chance at him giving a hint, so Tommy lets the subject move on, taking the warning that he’s given. Hopefully it’s not a bad talk. 

“Yeah. I miss him. Even if it’s been a day. It’s felt like a week.”

“Aw, I get that.” Phil leans back in his seat. “Sometimes everything gets so hectic that it’s surprising it’s only been 24 hours.” 

“You’re always busy, aren’t you?”

“A lot of the time.” Phil shrugs. “But I can make time for important things, and at the end of the day, my word goes. If I rather not have a meeting and instead go build at a new project, then I’ll do so.” Phil hums, thinking of a certain old friend he hasn’t visited in a long while. “Hey, is there anything you want to do before Tubbo gets here? He shouldn’t be due for another hour or so.”

“Hmmm.” Tommy thinks, leaning his elbows onto the table. An idea pops up in his head, and a smile breaks out across his face. 

---

“Ohhhoho, fuck yes.” Tommy grins, holding an actual sword.

“Don’t swing it wildly.” Techno advises, reaching up from behind him and adjusting his hands, letting go. “I swear, if you stab someone. Well, you can stab Wilbur-”

“Fuck you-” Wilbur flips him off from where he’s sitting to the side with Phil. 

“Then that’s cool.” Techno huffs, stepping back again as Tommy smiles wide, beaming with holding an actual metal sword in his hands. It’s kinda heavy, but not so heavy to where he can’t hold it, just heavy in the way where it’s obvious it can do some serious damage. 

It’s also just so cool-looking, the hilt being a deep blue with something that Tommy dares to say could be a diamond sitting in the center. The actual blade is silver, shiny and new, and Tommy raises it up, swings it through the air, and breaks out into another excited laugh.

“Have you ever thought about learning how to swordfight, mate?” Phil asks from where he’s sitting to the side, on a ledge of stone. 

“I don’t know.” Tommy answers, not really paying attention, since all his current attention is on this cool fucking sword. “I’ve never had a sword at all, I’d be shit.”

“You’d probably be better than Wilbur, at least-” Techno jabs, smiling directly towards Wil. 

Wilbur smiles back, but it’s very pointed and passive-agressive. “Okay, you have been bullying me this entire morning, fuck you, I trip you once during a fight and you’re bitter-”

“-I didn’t trip, I fell, I lost my footing-”

“Sure, sure, you did!”

Phil huffs, wrapping a wing around Wilbur. “You can keep that sword if you want, Tommy.” He says to the teen, who whips his head over to Phil with wide eyes. 

“Really?!” Tommy lowers the sword, completely forgetting the fact Phil’s already given him a bunch of things at this point, and it really was going to get tedious to bring it back to the orphanage. 

“If you want it.” Phil nods. “But you’re not going to use it right away, just saying.”

Tommy frowns. 

“Training!’ Wilbur chimes. “You can hang it up in your room until you know how to properly hold a sword, how about that?” 

Tommy shrugs, holding the sword up to look at it closer with a smile. It would look a bit strange in his room back at the orphanage, and he’s not sure where he’s going to get lessons, but a sword hanging up on his wall? Now that’s something he’s never going to pass up. 

“Sure.” He agrees. “Man, Tubbo’s going to love this.”

“Speaking of.” Phil gets up to his feet, Wilbur getting up with him. “Come on, let’s go meet him at the front of the castle. We’ve been here a while.” That’s true, it took a bit for them to walk here, and then for Techno to actually pick out a sword for Tommy to hold. Tommy had just wanted to check out the swords. Now he owns one. 

“Here, give that over.” Techno raises a hand out, Tommy handing it to him with a bit of a pout. “I’ll send it to your room right now.”

“Come along, Tommy.” Phil calls, and Tommy runs a little past Techno, stepping in pace beside Phil, and feeling warm when a wing rests over his shoulders. 

---

It’s cold, as they stand outside in the front of the castle, behind the main gates. It reminds Tommy of him first getting here yesterday. He looked like a mess, if he’s being honest, but look at him now, cool cape, new clothes, standing next to Phil and the princes like it’s no big deal.

Oh, this is amazing. 

There’s no snow today, but the sky is dim with clouds, and the usual chill stays in the air, a signature sign of the Empire. It’s never warm here, and Tommy gets a stray thought of how he would deal in the nether if he’s been in the cold of the empire all his life. 

There’s a carriage that comes their way, and it stops a good ten feet away, guards quickly moving around as the front gates shut again, and the horses pulling the carriage are settled down. 

Tommy takes a sharp breath in, filling his lungs with the cold as the door gets opened. 

He takes off running the second Tubbo’s one step out of the carriage, looking around with wide eyes, an awed expression. He’s holding a container in one of his arms, and there’s a warm scarf wrapped around neck. 

The second he sees Tommy, he stumbles the rest of the way getting down, and sprints too, grinning wide. 

“Tommy!” Tubbo yells, sounding relieved.

“Tubbo!” 

Tommy expects for them to meet in the middle and stop for a hug, but Tubbo just keeps going, and Tommy gets tackled back with a scream, hitting the snow on the ground. He can hear Wilbur laughing. 

“You FUCKER-” Tubbo yells, and at first he was just getting tackle-hugged, now Tubbo’s trying to put him into a chokehold, and Tommy kicks and screams for his life. 

“WAIT, WAIT-” 

“Do you have ANY idea how worried I was-”

“I was mugged! You think I wanted to fucking just-” Tommy coughs, wacking his hands backwards to smack Tubbo in the face. There’s still an arm around his neck, but it’s lessened into more of a hug. “It’s a long story!” He chokes out.

“Oh, you were mugged?” Tubbo responds, his voice going calm way too fast to be comforting. “Good for you. I’ll forgive you on one account.” He lets go of Tommy, and reaches for the container he brought, the thing having fallen when they both fell onto the ground. 

It holds two cupcakes, one with bright red frosting, and the other with a pretty light blue. Tubbo takes the red one, and holds the container up to Niki, who’s walked up behind them out of the carriage at this point. She takes it with a resigned look and walks over to Phil, Ranboo following at her heels with a mask over his face hiding his mix of curiosity and pity. 

Tommy is none the wiser, and blinks down at the cupcake with a surprised face. 

“Happy birthday.” Tubbo smiles, and while the cupcake is a trick, the message is sincere. “It’s kinda early, but, hey. Gotta pay you back somehow.”

Tommy smiles, huffing. “Thanks, Tubbo.” He takes the cupcake, the two of them getting back onto their feet. He takes a bite out of it, chewing for a moment. 

Then immediately spits it out. 

“What the FUCK-” Tommy sputters, shoving the cupcake back into Tubbo’s hands, sticking his toungue out. “Oh, god, why’s it spicy?!”

Phil watches Tommy grow increasingly more panicked and in pain as Tubbo seems to regret absolutely nothing. 

“He made a bad cupcake as revenge.” Niki explains, Ranboo looking at the two princes and finding equally disturbed yet amused faces. “Nice to meet you, your Grace.”

“Call me Phil.” Phil greets, offering a hand and giving Niki and handshake, growing concerned as Tommy starts to yell. 

“What the fuck is in that!?” Tommy tries to spit again, falling to his knees dramatically as he coughs. “My mouth is burning, what the hell?!”

“Revenge!” Tubbo screams, standing over Tommy. “How does that feel?!”

“NOT VERY GOOD, YOU FUCKING-”

“OH, I’M SORRY, I’M SUPPOSED TO BE ALL GLAD YOU DISAPPEARED FOR A WHOLE DAY-?”

Tommy screams again.  

“Uh, there’s another one for you, uhm, your majesty.” Ranboo says, very much ignoring Tommy’s cries in the background. Niki holds up the container with the blue cupcake. 

“It’s free from whatever Tubbo put in it, trust me.” Niki assures. 

“Thank you.” Phil takes the container, still a bit concerned over how Tommy is face first into the snow. “Uh- but I think my guards are still going to check this for poison, though.”

“That’s understandable.” Niki smiles, as Tubbo forces Tommy to eat the rest of the cupcake. Tommy’s yelling again. 

“Tea?” Phil suggests.

---

Tubbo thinks it’s been very successful so far. 

Tommy ate his birthday cupcake, as he should, then he yelled about how ‘cupcakes should not feel like I’m eating lava’, all according to plan. 

Now they’re having tea with the Emperor. Which, Tubbo thinks is absolutely awesome. 

Although,

“Hey,” Tubbo leans in towards Tommy, who’s holding a cup of milk in his hands with a sour expression. “Where did the princes go?”

“Oh, Techno and Wil?” Tommy says distractedly, and Tubbo blinks at how easily he refers to them. “I dunno, they probably ran off after the great first impression you gave.”

“I think it was a good first impression.” Tubbo smiles, sipping at a cup of tea.

Him and Tommy are sitting at their own table, just across from Phil, Niki, and Ranboo. Ranboo looks far too nervous to say anything, but Niki seems alright. Phil is inviting as always, and he grins easy. 

They had gotten led up to what seems like an indoor garden. They’re all sitting on a balcony of some sort, but if Tubbo looks off the ledge, he can see the beginning of a huge garden, with more green he’s ever seen in his life. 

He wonders if there’s flowers that are grown nearby. 

“Phiiil.” Tommy calls, slumping back in his seat. Maybe he sounds whiny, but he doesn’t care. He had the literal taste of hellfire in his mouth like fifteen minutes ago, he deserves to be whiny. 

Phil raises his head, smiling warmly. “What, mate?”

“Where’s Techno and Wil?” 

There’s a moment where Phil thinks on it, fiddling with the cup in his hands. “I think they said they were going back to training grounds. You want to take Tubbo and go visit them?”

“Nah.” Tommy shrugs, looking at Tubbo with a ‘there, now you know’ expression. Tubbo just squints at him strangely, and his eyes fall onto the cape Tommy’s wearing, then back to Phil. He takes another sip of his tea. 

They sit in silence for a bit more, Niki and Phil talking, Tubbo and Tommy eventually going into a conversation as to what Tommy’s day consisted of yesterday, and he’s only a bit of the way through it when a guard comes knocking at the door. 

“Your Grace?” They ask, Phil raising his head. “Sorry for interrupting, but you’re needed at the moment.”

“Can it wait?” Phil asks, a pointed look. 

“No. You’ll want to see this.” 

That catches Phil’s attention, and he sighs, before getting up with a smile. “Hope you don’t mind waiting here for a bit while I deal with that?”

“It’s alright.” Niki nods, and Ranboo gives a thumbs up.

“What’s happened?” Tubbo asks, beating Tommy to the punch as Phil walks past. “Is something wrong?”

“Ah, no, just paperwork, probably.” Phil assures, waving a hand. Tubbo and Tommy still look at him with worried faces, and Phil thinks of an idea. “Hey Tommy. Why don’t you go show Tubbo your room? Your stuff should be in there.”

“Oh!” Tommy stands up suddenly, slamming his hands on the table. “Tubbo, you’re going to think it’s so cool, I got a sword- come on-”

Tubbo gets up with Tommy, Tommy leading him by the hand out to the hallway. 

“Let the guard take you to the living quarters!” Phil calls out, watching the poor guard chase after them. “Welp. Hope they don’t get lost.” 

He turns to Niki and Ranboo. “I’ll be back. I won’t take long.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Niki reassures. “Nice view, anyway.” She waves to the greenery below. 

Phil nods, and leaves, letting the guard that came to call for him show him the way. 

He gets led far into the castle, and gets led towards the dungeon. 

“There had been a problem with...the portal.” The guard confesses, Phil’s face shifting into something more serious. 

“What?”

“Not the portal itself! The door, it- Well, come look.” 

The walk is a bit long, and there’s quite a few winding stairs to go down, but Phil knows the path by heart at this point. He walks quickly, the guard having to nearly jog to keep up with him, and Phil’s mind races with worries, with things gone wrong. 

They arrive soon enough, with four guards standing still beside the door. The door, which behind it, leads to the portal to the End. 

“There’s been damage done to it.” Phil’s told, and he walks up to the giant entrance, scanning the marks. 

Phil was careful about the portal. The walls around it are reinforced, made with obsidian. There’s guards who stay vigilant and stay at the only doorway at all times. And the door itself?

It’s entirely unbreakable. It’s enchanted to the nether and back, with only Phil being able to push it open if he wants. No one can get in, unless he permits it. He keeps the End locked up tight. 

But there are marks on the door. Burn marks, scratches, and usually nothing makes any sort of mark on a door like this, except for magic. 

He raises a hand to the door, feels it hum against him, and for a second, he imagines he can feel the hum of the portal too, hiding behind the door, whispering in his ears. 

Someone tried to undo the enchantments made on this door. 

Someone tried to get in. 

Phil’s wings ruffle behind him, and he holds back a deep frown, feeling a slight tinge of anger rise up. What reason would anybody have to want to get in? 

Maybe the reason doesn’t matter. Phil refuses to let this door be opened for someone with harmful intentions. 

“When did this appear?” Phil asks, voice heavy, and all the guards stand dead still in his presence, not a single trace of a snake to be found. 

“Last night, your Grace.” Someone answers. 

Phil breathes in deep, pressing his forehead to the metal of the door. It’s cold, and it’s always been cold, he’s used to that now. What he’s not used to is the sharp jagged chill in his chest, something he wants to call fear. 

Phil breathes out. 

“Interrogate every guard who was on patrol last night. Find whoever did this. Someone is trying to get in.” He lifts his head, looking to the people around him. “Don’t let them.” 

He gets jerky nods in response, and Phil nods back. 

“We’ll remain vigilant, your Grace.”

“Thank you.” Phil says, truly meaning it. “Now, if you excuse me, I have guests at the moment.” And he walks away, trying to simmer away the feeling of fear that sits in his chest. 

---

Tommy drags Tubbo over to his room, following the guard, chattering the entire time, Tubbo nearly tripping over his own feet with what Tommy’s telling him. 

“How the fuck did you get into so much trouble in one day ?” Tubbo asks, baffled.

“I have no clue, man, but Phil! Holy shit, Phil is so cool-”

“He is, he is- the wings, Tommy, did-” Tubbo glances at the guard, grabs Tommy by the arm and leans in close. “Did you tell him about your wings?”

“...No.” Tommy responds. 

“Dude!” Tubbo scoffs, looking offended at the fact Tommy hasn’t fessed up the thing that he shares with the emperor. 

“It’s not the time!” Tommy groans, hitting his hands to his face. “It’s not like I’m going to be here much longer anyway, and he’s busy as shit. Maybe when I’m older, like we said.”

“Yeah, well you’re the one who went early.”

“On accident!” Tommy snaps, huffing. “Here we are!” He perks up at seeing the familiar hallway where his room is, and he grabs Tubbo by the hand running past the guard. “Thanks!” He shouts out, just to be polite. 

“Your room is here?” Tubbo asks, glancing at the swords that hang up on the wall. “Woah.” 

“I know, right? It’s fucking surreal, man, this is Phil’s room, this is Techno’s, that’s Wilbur’s-” Tommy points them out quickly, walking past without a second thought. Tubbo’s head snaps to the doors with an incredulous look, and then it shifts into something suspicious. “Here’s mine! I slept here for the night, and ohhh, it’s fucking insane, look-”

“This is your room?” Tubbo asks slowly, Tommy nodding as he pushes it open. 

They both stand at the doorway, silent and staring for a moment. 

“Woah.” Tubbo says again. 

“Holy shit, he did get the books.” Tommy mutters, Tubbo looking at him with a perplexed face. 

The room hasn’t been changed too much, except for a few key things. The bed has been made, nice and tucked in, now, the singular book over the fireplace has been joined with what looks like ten other books, all stacked in a neat row. The fireplace is burning, warm, keeping the chill out of the room. And there’s a sword hanging on his wall, just over the dresser beside the fireplace. 

“Look- Tubbo, the sword!” Tommy runs forward, practically bouncing in excitement. “Look at this man, holy shit! I can’t use it yet, Wilbur said I probably need training before I get to even pick it up again, but oh my gosh-”

Tubbo’s wandered off to the closet, the door left open, and he gapes at the amount of fancy clothes hanging up. All prim and neat, all in mostly blue shades, fancy and probably really goddamn expensive. 

“What the fuck?” Tubbo says, a laugh bubbling out of him. Tommy joins behind him at peering into the closet. 

“What the fuck?” Tommy repeats, and it’s just as in awe. “This was empty this morning.”

“Was it?” Tubbo asks, feeling thrown off. 

“Yeah...how the hell am I going to carry this back to town?” Tommy mutters, Tubbo turning away from the closet, and looking at the sword that hangs on Tommy’s wall. 

“That sword is fucking cool.” 

“I know right!?” Tommy grins, Tubbo laughing with him in the absolute bizarreness of the situation.  “Do you think that’s a diamond in the middle?” 

Tubbo looks at the sword a little more, and he tilts his head to the side, thinking. He glances at the books. The room, the clothes. 

He stares at the cape over Tommy’s shoulders, Tommy distracted with reading the titles of the books over the fireplace, head tilted up and eyes narrowed in focus. 

A realization dawns on Tubbo, and he realizes that Tommy is a fucking idiot. 

“Man, there are ten books about the nether, that’s a fuckton of info-” Tommy mumbles.

“Tommy, why is the royal family trying to adopt you?” Tubbo asks, and Tommy freezes. 

He snorts. Yeah, right. The thought is cool though. He wonders about getting a crown, just for fun. 

He turns to Tubbo to scoff at the lame joke, and Tubbo’s staring at him, unimpressed. 

Tommy blinks. 

“Haha, that was a joke, right?”

Tubbo squints at him. 

“No.” Tubbo's actually serious, he's looking at him with a look like Tommy is being an idiot and-

“... what.”

Chapter Text

Tubbo’s stare turns lethal. Usually it would be effective on Tommy, but he’s too busy with the clearly ridiculous idea that Tubbo has brought up, has he gone insane-?

“Tommy-” Tubbo tilts his voice like he’s about to lecture him, and Tommy waves his hands, cutting him off before he starts. 

“Please tell me you’re joking.” 

Because that’s- no, no way. With everything that’s happened so far, Tommy would have to start considering if he’s dead or something, because if the royal family adopted him, it would be the cherry on top to all the bullshit that’s happened for the past few days.

Phil’s a nice guy, and Tommy already feels like he has a connection with him for the wings they must share, but he’s also the literal emperor, and there’s no way- It’s not possible for the man to actually consider taking in Tommy.

That would make him a prince! Which sounds really fucking cool, but out of all the kids in the kingdom, Phil choosing him will make Tommy die on the spot.

Maybe he’ll just die right here, actually. It’ll save him the trouble of having to process if getting adopted is a literal possibility. Because with the way Tubbo is staring at him, it feels like Tommy is being quite stupid, and he doesn’t appreciate that one bit.

“Okay, okay.” Tubbo raises his palms towards Tommy, sighing under his breath. A small flicker of hope rises in Tommy’s chest. Maybe it is a joke, a really bad one, that’s giving Tommy a heart attack. “-are you just stupid, or are you in denial?” 

“In denial of what?!” Tommy shrieks, Tubbo sputtering in response.

“Of the fact that the royal family is trying to take you in?!” Tubbo waves his hands around to gesture towards the room around them. “You have a literal room in their living quarters!”

“It’s a guest room!” Tommy justifies.

“Look me in the eyes- look at me in the eyes.” Tubbo points two fingers to his own face, staring down Tommy in a way that could probably send most people running for their lives. “You are saying, with your full chest, that the royal family gave you an actual guest room right next to their own rooms? Right next to them?” 

Tommy holds his breath and feels like a fish that’s been yanked out of the water and thrown into outer space.

“A guest room, which, by the looks of it-” Tubbo spins around, pointing fingers to the objects around him. “-has your own collection of clothes for you, has your own personal sword hanging up on the wall-”

“Well-”

Tubbo points a deadly finger in his direction. Tommy shuts his mouth so quickly that his teeth click. 

“And-” Tubbo continues, gesturing to the books over the fireplace. “Those books. Let me guess, they were a gift.” 

“Techno and Wilbur gave me one book last night.” Tommy says slowly, in case Tubbo decides to snap at any moment, because the teen looks incredibly close to strangling Tommy to get his point across. 

“Where did the rest come from?” Tubbo deadpans.

“...Phil.” 

“Oh my god!” Tubbo slaps his hands to his face, groaning against his palms. “They’re trying to win you over!”

“No, no!” Tommy walks forward, making his way past the bed and grabbing Tubbo by the shoulders tightly. “They’re gifts! Because- I mean- they’re rich, aren’t they? This is like pocket change to them, it’s like-” Tommy says the last word like he’s eaten something rotten. “Charity.” 

Tubbo bursts out laughing. “No, no, no, I know what I’m seeing-”

“You aren’t seeing shit-”

“Because Niki did it with me too.” Tubbo jabs a finger into Tommy’s chest, and Tommy feels like he’s going to have a heart attack again. Tubbo sounds so incredibly sure of himself, and Tommy wants to disagree, but he has limited information on how people try to win over kids for adoption, so he doesn’t have a base for an argument. He makes a quiet dying noise in his throat instead. 

“No.” Tommy closes his eyes. If he doesn’t see Tubbo, then Tubbo can’t tell him that Phil is trying to adopt him, nope, no-

“Yup!” Tubbo chimes, and he tugs at the scarf around his neck. “Remember when I went with her to the plaza to hang out for the morning? She bought me a bunch of treats-”

“You’re being stupid, this is bullshit-”

“And this scarf, too, she gave me this scarf and told me to keep it, as a gift-”

“Okay, well, I didn’t get a scarf.” Tommy opens his eyes, Tubbo jabbing him in the shoulder to force him to actually look at him. “So, I’m not getting adopted.”

“No, you got a fucking sword.” Tubbo deadpans. “I think that’s just the rich-people equivalent.” He puts a hand on his chin, looking thoughtful. 

Tommy decides to grace Tubbo’s words with a sliver of consideration, turning over the idea in his head. Well, he got gifts, but they weren’t to win him over or anything, right? The sword was just Phil being generous, he’s the Emperor, he’s known for being kind to his people.

Except, the books are a bit inconvenient as a gift, now that he thinks about it. It’s a whole series, and they’re placed on the shelf like that’s where they’re meant to be. 

And the clothes too. They’re all put away in the closet, clearly meant for Tommy, but putting them in there just to have them all taken out when he goes back is tedious. Having all the stuff placed in the room like it’s meant to stay, it only makes sense-

If they were planning on him to stay.

“This can’t be happening.” Tommy breathes out, and he kneels down onto the ground, then just flops over onto the floor, groaning. “No, no, no-”

“He’s become self-aware.” Tubbo mutters. “Glad we got that out of the way. I have no clue how you got this far without even noticing, but we’re here now, I guess.” 

“But Phil just invited me up because I saved his life!” Tommy rises from the ground suddenly, sitting up and looking at Tubbo with a baffled expression. “Wha- Why would- Me! Adopt me!”

The prospect is unbelievable, and Tommy feels stupid for considering it, because something like that sounds so out of reach, Tommy could never even dream of having it. 

He knows he would probably get a family one day. Someone would come along, bring him into a home that could become his. He was more or less sure of that. He knew he was bound to get that one day. 

But having the royal family be his own, that sounds like a fever dream. A really cool and unbelievable fever dream. 

Because Tommy’s just a random kid! He’s just a kid in the village far away from the castle, who by a stroke of luck smashed a plate over some guy’s head and ended up saving the actual ruler of the Antarctic Empire. 

Of all kids, out of the entire empire, of all people, how could royalty see him, and decide that they want him?! Tommy will be the first to say any day that he’s the best person ever, and frankly, he thinks his personality is quite charming at times, if not, all the time. 

But not to the point to catch the attention of the royal family, holy shit.

Tubbo begins to laugh, bouncing up on toes and nodding frantically. “Holy shit, they’re adopting you-” He pauses for a moment. “Actually, why you of all people-”

“Oh, fuck you.” Tommy flops back onto the ground, laying on his back. “This is insane.” He says quietly, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. “This is not happening.”

When is he going to wake up? He’s waking up any second now. Any moment now. 

Tubbo leans over his head, blocking his sight of the ceiling. “I think it’s happening.”

“This is happening.” Tommy repeats, and he considers Tubbo’s words again, gathers up the evidence around him, the room for him, which is too close to the princes and the emperor to be a guest room, now that he’s thinking over it. The gifts, Phil waiting for him at breakfast, Techno and Wilbur dragging him out for late night snacks-

“This is happening!” Tubbo grins, voice giddy. “You’re getting adopted, Tommy, oh my gosh!”

“By the royal family.” Tommy blinks, and the words don’t feel real in his mouth. Tubbo moves to lay down beside Tommy, and they both lay there on the ground, staring up at the ceiling, as if they’re stargazing, when really, Tommy is just in shock, and Tubbo is waiting for the pin to really drop. 

Now this feels like an entirely other level of unreal. Now there’s a sense of excitement rising up in Tommy’s chest, making him speechless in utter shock. Phil is the Emperor of the Antarctic Empire, and he wants to adopt Tommy. 

Phil wants to adopt him. 

“I’m going to get adopted.” Tommy murmurs, and Tubbo smiles wide next to him, turning his head to Tommy. Tommy stays staring at the ceiling. “I’m-”

“Did you think you weren’t?” Tubbo asks, laughing a little. Tommy doesn’t respond for a moment. “Hey, don’t tell me you thought you weren’t ever going to get taken in by a family.”

“No, no, I knew-” Tommy cuts himself off, and it feels like the mood has simmered down, quiet and frail. “I knew I was going to get a family- I mean, I already have you, so I was fine with waiting, I just thought-” Tommy takes a breath in, huffs out.

Tubbo had gotten adopted not even that long ago. With that luck, with that good moment, Tommy thought the universe was going to make him wait just a bit more before he got something that was as wonderful as seeing Tubbo finally get a family of his very own.

 “I thought it was going to take longer.” Tommy admits. He thought that orphanage was going to be his home for a while longer, he thought he was going to have to wait. And he was fine with that! He was okay with that, because Tubbo was still with him, and as long as Tubbo and him were together, he could wait.

Tubbo hums, smiling wide. “Nope.” He says, popping the p.

“...Tubbo.” 

“Hm?”

“Am I going to be considered a prince, then?”

A beat passes. Both of them lie completely still, and Tommy’s words sit in the air for a second.

“Oh, hell no-” Tubbo hisses, sitting up abruptly, Tommy bursting out in laughter.

“Hell yes- ” Tommy revels in the feeling of excitement and utter awe. Him, a prince. Him! A prince!

He’s got no clue how to be a prince and frankly that’s not his problem because he’s too busy thinking about how he’s going to be royalty .

Oh, man, he’s not ever going to get used to that.

“I’m not calling you ‘your highness’. Never. I’ve seen every single stupid thing you’ve ever done in your life-” Tubbo speaks, Tommy sitting up to look towards him with a stupid smile on his face.

“No, no, you have to, Tubbo, it’s about the respect-” Tommy nods, enjoying immensely how Tubbo looks like he’s eaten something sour, his face scrunching up.

“No way. You will always be Tommy to me first, not a prince, not an heir to the throne, just Tommy.” Tubbo insists, and he pushes a finger into Tommy’s chest, leaning forward. “You’re my best friend first and foremost, and I know for a fact that you are an idiot.”

“Hey!” Tommy whacks Tubbo’s hand away, frowning. “I’m not!”

“You didn’t even notice that Phil is trying to adopt you when literally all the signs are right there.” Tubbo points out, looking unimpressed and giving a face towards Tommy like he is, in fact, an idiot.

Tommy sighs heavily, leaning back on his hands. “Listen, it’s not that obvious, really-”

“Look at yourself. Look at your shoes.” Tubbo says, and they both glance down at Tommy’s shoes, which are no longer falling apart, dirty and worn, but rather brand new and durable looking. 

“...I lost my shoes before! Phil gave me new ones-” He had no clue where his old shoes went, but Phil had made sure Tommy got a new pair before they went out to have Tommy poke around at a sword. Then Tommy had gotten a sword, and a pair of lost shoes became rather irrelevant. 

“And another gift! Man, rich people are intense-” Tubbo says, Tommy kicking out a foot and hitting him in the shin.

“Please shut up.” Tommy pleads.

“No.” Tubbo responds, kicking back. “You were being a fool, Tommy, I’m holding this over your head for eternity. When Phil becomes your dad, I’m going to tell him how you didn’t notice until I pointed it out-”

“No, no, don’t do that!” Tommy sits up on his knees, grabbing Tubbo by the shoulders, Tubbo simply giving an evil smile. “You’re going to embarrass me- that’s supposed to be my dad!”

He pauses. 

“Holy shit, the emperor wants to be my dad.” There’s another rush of disbelief, and Tommy needs to sit back down once more, staring off into the distance with wide eyes.

“Eh, old news.” Tubbo waves a hand, yawning. He freezes, a look of surprise coming over his face as if he’s just realized something. “Wait a minute!” He grabs Tommy by the face, Tommy nearly falling forward. “Do you know what this means now?!”

“...I’m going to be living in a castle?” Tommy responds, raising an eyebrow. And, oh geez, saying it out loud is making him want to lay back onto the ground. 

He realizes that the ‘guest room’ he’s been staying in will be his, and his to keep.

That tugs at his heart in a way that makes him have to blink a bit faster.

“Tommy.” Tubbo says, voice dead serious, and he squishes Tommy’s face in his hands. “You have to tell Phil about the wings.” 

Tommy freezes. “Oh, shit.”

“This is the perfect opportunity! He’s adopting you, and he doesn’t even know that you have wings?! Imagine his reaction, oh my gosh-” Tubbo laughs, excited and overjoyed, and Tommy puts his hands over Tubbo’s, taking in a deep breath, laughing along with him. 

“Tubbo, Tubbo- He thinks he’s the only one.” Tommy says, and now that information feels impossibly heavier. What would Phil say? How would he react, knowing that the kid that’s come across his path by pure luck, was a kid who has wings?

Or, really, a tattoo of wings. Tommy doesn’t know how to summon them or anything, but if anyone can figure it out, it’s got to be Phil. 

“Techno and Wilbur, they told me- Phil’s searched around the empire before, for people with wings like him. He got his from coming back from the End, the Ender Dragon, but he thinks he’s the only one. He never found anyone else.”

Tubbo’s eyes are wide in shock, and they both stare at each other, the realization dawning over them. 

“He thinks he’s the only one.” Tubbo repeats, slowly. 

“And he’s not.” Tommy whispers, and Tubbo’s face lights up, gasping in disbelief, pulling away from Tommy to put his hands over his own mouth and be at a loss for words.

They both sit in silence again, looking at each other with varying faces of disbelief and pure glee, and then they dissolve into sounds of excitement, yelling and laughing as they wave their hands around. 

“Tommy, you’re going to get wings!” Tubbo says, and it hits Tommy directly in the chest, and all he can do is nod frantically in response, a smile stretched from ear to ear. “You’re going to get a family!” Tubbo says, and it hits even harder, Tommy’s throat feeling tight as he keeps nodding, laughing breathlessly. 

“Wait, wait, you’re going to get brothers.” Tubbo realizes out loud, and Tommy swallows hard, just nodding, again, and again. “The princes are going to be your brothers, actually! You’re- Tommy?” 

Tommy bows his head down, smile wavering even though he feels so impossibly happy. He wants to keep laughing, wants to nod and grin and celebrate with Tubbo because this is everything he could ever want, but it’s all too much at once for him to handle. 

So, he presses his palms into his face, and cries, a sob breaking out from his chest as he feels like the luckiest kid in the entire empire. 

Tubbo scoots forward and hugs him tightly, silent but understanding, and he squeezes Tommy hard enough that it nearly hurts. 

“I’m so happy for you, Tommy.” Tubbo says quietly, and Tommy sobs even harder, and hugs him back.

Chapter Text

The more Tommy turns the thought over in his mind, the more surreal this entire situation becomes. It sounds like something straight out of a storybook, unreal and impossible. 

But it’s real, and he’s in it, and he’s been crying against Tubbo’s shoulder for the past ten minutes. Which isn’t exactly ideal, or good for his reputation, but it’s just them two in the room, and Tubbo has seen him do stupid things all the time, so there’s nothing terribly at risk. 

Tubbo keeps pointing out things that would change if it means Tommy is to have his home here now, and it’s really not helping with how Tommy is pathetically crying like a child.

“-but do you think your birthday would be like- a holiday? I mean, we celebrate the Emperor’s birthday with flowers and everything,” Tommy’s reminded of that yearly occurrence, of how the statue in the middle of the plaza is surrounded in piles of colorful, bright vibrant flowers that only last for a few days in such cold snow. “-but that’s not exactly similar to how everyone knows you back in town. I mean, everyone we’ve ever worked with will have known our faces, then your birthday is like a royal birthday, then does that mean we should get discounts-”

“Please shut up.” Tommy chokes out, pushing his palms into his eyes, sniffing. He’s almost done crying. Nearly. Tubbo isn’t helping, because his words mean that a lot more than just him and Tubbo are going to be celebrating his birthday, celebrating him, and that’s one hell of a boost to his ego, but also a huge hit to his emotional state, because he’s never had a proper family to sing him happy birthday. His eyes are watery again. 

“-oh my god, I just realized, Tommy, you’re going to get a fuckton of birthday gifts. Tommy, these rich people are insane, you got a sword just because, what are they going to get you for your birthday-?!” Tubbo hits a hand to his own forehead, stammering over the possibilities, and Tommy shoves his face into Tubbo’s arm.

“Shut up, please-” Tommy begs, because he’s already overwhelmed by the fact Phil seems to have no problem just throwing gifts at him, his birthday is going to be even worse.

“What if you get a horse, two horses-” 

“I can’t take this-”

“You have so much power here, you can literally say you’re the birthday prince and then ask the emperor for everything, Tommy, oh, the power-” Tubbo’s eyes gleam with ideas, world domination probably, and it would be funny if Tommy didn’t feel so fragile at the idea of Phil giving him the world if he just so much as asked.

Tommy smacks him in the side of the head. “You are not helping.”

“Ow! Yes I am!”

Tommy sits back, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, you keep going on about ‘oh Phil this, oh dad that-’ Tubbo, I’m going to die-”

“Postpone the dying, please, we still have very important things on the do-to list.” Tubbo holds a hand up and taps at his palm, as if there’s a list written in marker there. Tommy glances to check if there actually is. Thankfully, his hand is free of any written down words.

Tommy sniffs, wipes his face clean once more, and takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down and not cry anymore. His heart still feels like mush, and the rest of him feels like curling up on the ground and just staying there, but he refuses to lay down and cry. More. 

After all, he’s Tommy. He’s got this. 

“...what’s on the to-do list.” Tommy asks, after blinking at Tubbo with a tired expression, his eyes a bit red from how much he’s been rubbing at them. 

“Tommy.” Tubbo leans in close, grabbing Tommy by the shoulders, and Tommy just goes with it, lets his forehead knock into Tubbo’s. He’s drained from this whole ordeal, he wants a nap, preferably in the ridiculously comfortable bed just a few feet away that he can now call his.

He also wants a talk with Phil, maybe. Ask him what the hell is going through his head to bring Tommy of all people to the castle, and also thank him for being an idiot. 

 “How are we going to tell Phil about the wings?” Tubbo asks, halting Tommy’s entire thought process, what little he had. 

Tommy pauses, eyes going a bit wide. His gaze flicks from side to side, mind thinking. 

“....ah, fuck.” 

---

“This one.” Wilbur says, holding up a small green box. It’s beautiful, with golden carvings all around it, drawing out a pretty picture of wings on the lid. Wilbur opens it up without a second thought, grabs the crown that sits inside and holds it up with one finger. “I used to love this one.” 

“Nope.” Techno shoots down Wilbur’s offer without a second glance, holding a crown of his own in his hands, staring at the gems that shine underneath his fingertips. “I don’t like the color.”

Wilbur huffs, snapping the box closed and placing the crown on top of his head, ignoring the fact there is already a crown sitting there, and that he’s now wearing two crowns, which makes him look a bit silly. 

The two of them are in Phil’s room, which isn’t exactly off-limits, they’re allowed to go in, but Phil has told them before to not snoop, respect privacy, all of that. 

However, they have a good reason for digging into Phil’s closet this time, and personally, Wilbur thinks Phil wouldn’t mind if he found out what they were both doing. 

Tommy is a new addition to the castle, (an interesting addition, in Wilbur’s opinion, everything has gotten much more hectic since his arrival) and so, he should be welcomed. Not only that, but with how Phil is acting, with what Tommy has been given, it’s so incredibly obvious that Phil’s planning on taking him in, and both Techno and Wilbur think that means he should have a welcome gift into the family. 

He’s probably not a hard kid to impress, seeing his reaction to a sword that Technoblade doesn’t even think much of, and his reaction to a book Wilbur has read a million times over. 

But either way, there should be a nice gift! Something heartfelt, something nice that really welcomes him in. 

So they broke into Phil’s closet to look for a crown.

“You have said no to the past three ones I chose, I’m starting to think you’re being overly picky.” Wilbur says, throwing the box onto Phil’s bed, where Technoblade is sitting down with his legs crossed, priceless crowns placed onto the bed around him. He puts the crown he was looking at down, and goes to pick up another one, running his thumb over the ruby that sits at the base of the metal. 

“I’m not, and you’re being picky too, I offered like four different ones and you didn’t even look at the second one-” Technoblade raises his eyes up from the crown in his hands, snorts a little at the two crowns sitting on top of Wilbur’s head. 

“Because that one isn’t nice, and it’s missing a gem-” Wilbur points out, holding a finger up. He jumps onto the bed beside Techno, and it disrupts the jewelry sitting around them, a few being dangerously close to the edge of the bed. The twins pay it no mind.

“Excuses, like he’d care.” Technoblade scoffs. He holds the crown in his hand up sideways, waving it around practically in Wilbur’s face. “He’s going to look at it and go ‘ooh shiny’ and that’s a job done-”

“I think you’re mistaking him with Phil.” Wilbur cuts him off with a grin, plucking the crown out of Techno’s hand. 

That’s one out of the many secrets Wilbur and Techno harbor thanks to being the sons of the Emperor. The specific secret being Phil likes shiny things. A lot.

He’s down-low about it, so no one has ever noticed, but there’s a reason Phil owns so many rings, so many crowns, earrings, jewels, you name it. People may brush it off as the fact he’s the Emperor, and so he has the riches and the ability to simply have such things. Someone that important should probably have priceless diamonds in his room, right?

Really, Phil couldn’t care less about the cost, or the reputation, or even the importance of having them. Maybe a few crowns have history, have sentimental importance, but mostly? He just likes shiny things.

“It’s nice.” Phil had confessed to them one night, when Wilbur and Techno were shown the actual amount of jewelry Phil had, and honestly, Wilbur had felt a bit concerned. “I just like having them.” There was a literal pile of rings that Wilbur could dig his hands into. 

Wilbur maybe understands it just a bit. Not to Phil’s extent, no way, what Phil has could possibly be considered a problem if he weren’t royalty. With Wilbur and Technoblade, they’re not one for jewelry that much, but gold is nice. 

In the way that Phil puts it. It’s nice. As a result, both him and Techno have a few golden rings, golden crowns. Techno’s favorite sword is a shiny gold. Wilbur’s favorite necklace is gold as well. 

Quietly, Wilbur hopes Tommy won’t be weirded out by the fact the royal family has a quiet hoarding problem with valuables.

“I like this one.” Technoblade gestures to a crown that’s nearly falling off the bed, and he holds it out to Wilbur, who takes it and swaps it for the one he had taken from Techno. “That one suits him.”

“Hm.” Wilbur turns it over in his hands, smiling at how it’s made of gold, with rubies embedded on the outside of it. It looks as if the gold was woven by hand, and part of Wilbur wants to try balancing this one on top of his head too. 

He tries to imagine Tommy wearing it. His mind thinks of the teen smiling brightly, crown on his head. His mind jumps to thinking of Tommy around the castle, more specifically, in the castle halls. How would that be, having a new face walking around? Wilbur’s been so caught up in the idea of having a new addition around that he’s forgotten about the feelings that come with it, and the heavy decision as well. 

“How do you feel about getting a new little brother?” Wilbur asks, voice slow and careful. The words make his heart squeeze, and he never thought he’d be an older brother (He’s always the youngest, according to Techno, even if they are twins) but this is real. It sinks in with truth, and Wilbur pauses, the excitement fizzling out into something else entirely. 

Technoblade looks at him with a weird look, raising his eyebrows. He snorts. “Where did that come from?” He asks, holding his hand out for the crown in Wilbur’s hands. Wilbur gives it over, sighing. 

“I mean- Phil’s obviously focused on him. I’m overjoyed by it, but also think about it. It’s not just a new face or anything, this is a new addition to the family. The royal family, everything. How do you feel about calling him your little brother?”

It’s a wonderful feeling, in Wilbur’s opinion. He’s already adopted Tommy mentally, even if Phil got cold feet and backed out now, he’s fairly sure Technoblade would join him in dragging the kid back to the castle. 

Tommy’s a spitfire, through and through. If there’s one thing Wilbur hates, and knows that Techno hates as well, it’s when things around the castle get boring. But with Tommy, their first impression was a fight in an alleyway, a food fight at the dinner table, sneaking out of a window and sneaking into their study room. 

Wilbur thinks it’s wonderful. 

“Maybe this crown isn’t good enough, hm.” Technoblade mutters offhandedly, avoiding Wilbur’s question entirely. Wilbur whacks him in the arm. 

“Come on.” Wilbur presses, leaning close with a grin that’s poking fun. “You like him.” 

“He’s interesting, for sure.” Technoblade pushes his palm into Wilbur’s face, nearly pushing him off the bed, ignoring Wilbur throwing swears at him. “And he saved Phil’s life, so that’s a good first impression in my opinion.” 

Wilbur rolls off the bed, sitting on the floor and peeking over the bed covers, narrowing his eyes. He stares at Techno for a bit, and while Techno pretends to not see him, he can see the way Techno’s face shifts into something strained. 

“Admit it.” Wilbur whispers, voice low as if they’re saying something evil. “He’s endearing.”

“He’s interesting.” Technoblade repeats, raising his head to Wilbur, and faltering. “He’s…”

Wilbur raises his eyebrows. 

Technoblade huffs through his nose, places the crown down onto his lap. “I think… it’ll be nice to have him around.” He says slowly, and while it doesn’t say much, it says everything to Wilbur.

“It’ll be nice.” Wilbur responds, the last word in the tilting tone that Phil had used for the trinkets he adored so much. 

“Nice.” Technoblade repeats, huffing at the inside joke. 

---

Phil quickly makes his way back to where he had left his guests before, while also getting word that Tommy and Tubbo were still in Tommy’s room. He’ll give them a bit of space before he calls them back, the two of them are obviously close, and Phil thinks it would do them some good to have some time together to talk about everything. 

Technoblade and Wilbur have also last been seen in the living quarters, and Phil feels a bit wary at that information being presented to him, but he’s sure they won’t cause any trouble. Today’s a special day, and they know to be kind to guests. After all, they’ve had classes for the specific manners, even if they hardly use them, it’s been drilled into their heads. 

Niki and Ranboo aren’t where Phil had left them, and they’ve instead wandered downstairs to the gardens, the guards at the front doors telling Phil they’ve been walking around in there for the past ten minutes or so. 

Phil nods, walking in and pushing the doors open, hearing them close quietly behind him as he takes in the greenery, the flowers and life around him. 

It’s a bit warmer than usual in here, but it’s not suffocating. Phil’s been to the nether, and after being in that stuffy place, this is not much. 

He walks ahead, listening for any voices or any footsteps, and he can hear someone laughing nearby. He heads towards it, ducks underneath a plant and finds Niki and Ranboo, Niki holding up a blue flower to Ranboo’s face. She seems to be smothering the petals into his nose, and Ranboo scrunches up his face, sneezing. 

Phil walks up to them with a smile, pushing down the last of the wariness that had come from the mishap with the portal. Ranboo yanks up his mask the moment he sees Phil, and Niki pauses, turning around to see why.

“Oh, your majesty.” Niki nods at him, Phil nodding back. “Everything alright?”

Phil waves a hand. “Yes, everything is fine. Just some paperwork that had needed to be sorted out. Are you two enjoying the garden?”

“It’s wonderful.” Niki smiles, holding the flower to her chest. “I’ve never seen so many flowers in one place. Save for when your birthday comes around.” The plaza is always adorned with flowers for the Emperor’s birthday. Niki finds it to be lovely, and she always puts a few flowers in a vase on the counter of her bakery during that week. 

“This isn’t even the main garden, if you’ll believe it.” Phil shrugs. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it though.” 

Niki hums, giving the flower in her hand to Ranboo, who holds it carefully with two hands, as if it’ll shatter in between his fingertips. “I wanted to ask a question, if I may.”

“Go ahead.” 

“Why was Tommy called up to the castle?” Niki asks, and she asks it as if she just needs to be reminded. Her smile is warm, but her eyes hold something more, and Phil pauses for just a moment, blinking. “I can’t imagine that everything so far has just been a thank you gift.”

Phil flicks his gaze to Ranboo, who’s looking at his wings with a curious look. Phil huffs. 

“Is it that obvious?” Phil asks, scratching at the back of his neck. He knows he may be going a bit overboard with the gifts, but he hasn’t even given half of what he wants to give, and all he wants is for Tommy to feel welcome.

Niki snorts. “We’re here because Tubbo is Tommy’s best friend. And when we got here, Tommy was dressed up as if he was a prince of the royal family. You look at him as if he’s your own.”

Phil has the decency to look a bit embarrassed at that. “Do I?”

“You do.” Niki nods. “I’ve seen it before.” Many times. Being in a bakery means she will see little ones rather often, and she sees the parents as well. She notices the way they’ll look fondly at their children, who ask for just one cupcake, just one cookie, and then they will bend to their love. “I think it’s sweet. Tommy is a good kid, and I hope you’ll do well for him. As long as you’re not planning anything terrible...”

“I’m not, I’m not.” Phil says immediately, shaking his head. “I just saw him on the streets and thought he’d do well here. My sons are already attached, to be honest, and with that…” Phil shrugs. 

Niki smiles. “Phil, I really do hope you give him a good home.” Her gaze shifts into something different, and Phil is suddenly wary of how Ranboo stares over her head, eyes unnaturally bright. Just a moment prior, these two had been playing with the flowers, guests with no threat. At this moment, though, Phil feels a bit concerned for his own safety. “If you don’t, ruler of this empire or not, I will make you regret it.”

Well.

Phil laughs, and the entire tension that was in the air fizzles out, Ranboo turning away to go look at the flowers. Niki’s face falls back into something kind. “I hope you do. Hold me to the consequences, Tommy deserves that much if I’m to ever mistreat him.” 

“I don’t feel like you will though.” Niki shrugs. “If anything, you’re going to spoil him rotten.”

“Eh, Tubbo can humble him.” Ranboo mutters then, Niki snorting. 

Phil takes another look at Niki, thinks of what information he’s gotten from her. He’s had people do background checks, (of course, he needs to have some caution when bringing people up to the castle), and he knows she works in a bakery. Has worked in a bakery for a long time. Has lived with her brother for her whole life. 

“Would you be interested in a job?” Phil asks, and Niki blinks. Phil doesn’t think he has an official royal baker. He has bakers, sure, but not a specific one. 

Why not?

When Niki brings up the concern of her bakery at home, Phil waves it off with making the job here at the castle only be a part time. He has others who work like that here, wanting to live back at the town as well rather than near the castle and stay up here all the time. 

One example that comes to mind is his main royal healer. Puffy, Phil explains, she works part time here. On some days, she’ll be at the castle, and do her job accordingly, and other days, she will go back to the town to her home, and continue her work where she wants. As of now, she’s at the castle, and she’s meant to go home tomorrow. 

Niki seems interested, more baffled than anything, and Phil grins.

---

Puffy is in a fucking cell.

Not that she meant to wind up here, she was dragged in here kicking and screaming. She’s underneath the floors of the castle, in the winding stone halls that surround the mysterious portal that everyone knows exists. 

Every single servant, every single guard, anybody who’s spent more than a week in this castle knows of that portal. Knows it sits in the mountain, and knows that the Emperor is rather strict on the protocols around it. 

Most don’t know specifically where it is, but the guards who are tasked to protect and watch it are very aware of it. Puffy is aware of it, but everything she’s learnt about it has been against her will, because she’s been dragged head-first into a scheme that’s going against the Emperor's wishes, and oh, does she feel sorry for the idiots who thought up that plan. 

The Emperor is a kind man. He’s a good man, and Puffy knows this easily. She’s treated him when he was hurt, she’s watched over his sons when they were sick. She’s seen the man vulnerable, and when all the walls are torn down, all that’s left is a worried dad and a man who is trying his best with the power people have given him. 

It’s no wonder she’s loyal. 

Ever since the new guest has come to the castle, things have stirred. Word spread in a snap, the Emperor practically throwing his usual responsibilities out the window like nothing. The only times he does that is when he’s overly stressed, or when his kids have gotten hurt. 

Neither of those had happened though, no, this time, the Emperor has gotten a new kid. 

Tommy. 

And word of him and his face had spread even faster. The Emperor has taken in a new kid, and he’s an endearing chaotic force, by the looks of it. The princes have taken a liking to him, and Phil’s attention has been on nothing but mostly his family for the past 24 hours.

While Puffy is glad, she’s not exactly happy with how it’s turned out. 

Someone noticed how Phil’s attention had been turned to the new child, and they jumped for the opportunity. 

A group of traitors have broken out within the ranks of the guards who were supposed to protect the portal.

Well, Puffy considers them traitors. They’re going against the Emperor’s wishes, the most stern orders he’s given around the castle. 

They’re going after the portal. 

Last night, the first attempt was scuffed. A magic-user was snuck in, and several important books were stolen overnight, but it didn’t make a single dent on the door. Obviously, people took notice. The Emperor is tightening his security, no doubt, and it’s a matter of time until this terribly put together plan falls apart, but Phil is still distracted. 

And Puffy is in a cell. 

Today was her last day of the week, dammit. She’s supposed to get back home tomorrow night. But instead, she had found someone poking around in her potions, and when she went to call for the guards, two guards had come from behind her, and she was dragged away. 

Just her luck, to accidentally stumble across a plan to break into the most secure place in the entire empire. 

She sits here with all the information she did not want, and she had only gotten it because the people who dragged her here would not shut up . 

And she sits here with the full knowledge that this plan is going to crumble and burn. She’s looking forward to it. Maybe she’ll get a raise for being imprisoned here. 

Although, she is a bit worried as to why they were poking around with her potions. 

Either way, there’s not much she can do. They offered her a spot in this stupid plan, and she responded with a colorful response and trying to kick the person nearest to her in the stomach. 

She knows Phil. And she knows, most of all, that she can trust him. With her life, and with her safety. The portal is locked for a reason. The portal is hidden away, for a good reason. She doesn’t know why, but she doesn’t need to. It’s the only thing Phil has been so earnest about, protective of, other than his sons. 

For that reason, she will never go along with the plan to break into it. Even with all the offers thrown at her. 

“But he’s hiding something. Something from us all! What if it’s a weapon, or resources, or unknown magic?” They had asked her, trying to change her mind.

“I couldn’t care less.” Puffy deadpanned from the other side iron bars. “What you’re doing is going against the direct order of the Emperor, and I for one, can’t wait for the fallout.”

They didn’t seem happy with her after that, so they left her alone. No matter how much she poked around, or tugged at the cell door, she was stuck here. 

Puffy really feels just a bit sorry for the idiots who’ve made this plan. There’s been times where Phil’s opened that door. Sometimes, just to go in by himself, and sometimes…

Sometimes, Phil really shows what he can be when he’s pissed off. He will drag a person with him to the portal, and that person won’t be seen ever again.

There have been a handful of times when assassins have gotten too close to the princes’ rooms. 

And in those nights, Phil had reminded her of the dragon he slayed so many years ago.

He’s protective of what’s his. He’s protective of his people. He’s a kind soul, a kind person, but somehow everyone forgets how he fought in that war years ago. 

Those who get dragged into the portal room by Phil, don’t come back with him. 

Puffy sighs. She’s not worried about being left in here. She’s meant to be back home by tomorrow night anyway. When she doesn’t arrive at home, her own sons will raise hell, because there’s only two reasons as to why Puffy wouldn’t be home on a day where she is supposed to be. 

First reason, someone of the royal family being deathly ill. If that were the reason, she would send a letter down to her sons and they would know that she’s needed. 

Second reason, she’s in trouble. 

She supposes that the people here may figure out a way to send a letter home, but she doubts it, for they’re all idiots, and she’s sure that this will fall apart in a disaster. 

Tomorrow's supposed to be nacho night for dinner. She knows that Dream and Foolish are going to raise absolute hell when she doesn’t come home. 

So with that, she sits back, and just waits.

---

The plan to break into the portal isn’t a good plan, but it’s being pulled along by people who are desperate, and so sure they are doing something good for the kingdom. Curiosity kills the cat, and that’s a good way to describe what will happen to these ones. 

The night where the first attempt to get in was a terrible attempt. Eyes were immediately on them, but to their luck, the emperor’s entire attention had not yet fallen onto them. He was still distracted.

But, things still pop up in their way. Not everyone is willing to go against the Emperor and his wishes, but more than a few people have fought and lost in the stone halls underneath the castle. More than a few people are locked away, in cells that are rather abundant. 

Sam is one of those who fought, or rather, is fighting. 

He’s a guard who works specifically to protect that portal. It’s a bit of a boring job at times, but he’s serious about his orders, and at the very least when his shift is over, his pay works well, and he’s granted a home from the majesty himself. 

A breech was reported last night, of someone trying to get past the doors. When Sam had asked for the interrogation of the guards on patrol last night, he was instead met face first with the people who tried breaking in.

He’s told of their plan, of the idea to enter the portal, see what the Emperor is hiding in the End, and he’s given all the information. He listens, baffled, speechless, and hears that there are fifteen people in all, involved in this plan. Not all of them are even actually guards. More than half are people who have been snuck in, and they’re here for their own gain, taking the place of guards who have been locked away. But a few are absolute traitors, and that makes him burn.

Phil is distracted with his new son, so it’s better to strike now, they tell him. Better to strike when the dragon’s attention is not on them. 

Sam asked, pretended for just a moment that he was listening. 

They were after the portal, and the possible riches inside, and Sam pretends to be curious, pretends to be onboard. This needs to get the Emperor now, a break-in right under their nose, while the entire castle is distracted with the new prince.

And then he lost his temper. 

For the next step in the plan was to keep the Emperor’s attention on his new child. With that being to poison him. 

“What.” Sam says, voice heavy, anger flowing into his veins.

“Not lethally of course! We’re planning on slipping just a bit of poison into the kid’s food for dinner. The most he’ll be is sick in bed for the next few days. With that, the Emperor will be so worried, that he won’t even notice-”

Sam had punched them across the face. 

That blew his cover pretty quick. 

He fought his best, but he’s outnumbered quickly, and when he wakes up, he’s in a cell. 

“Welcome to the land of living.” A woman says, hovering over him. “Glad to have you here.” 

Puffy is a well known face around the castle, and Sam...well, he’s not really well known. He’s more of the main guard for the portal, he doesn’t really wander around the castle that much, and he's never hurt either, so Puffy doesn’t see him. 

But that’s hardly a concern. 

Sam jolts up, eyes wide. 

“Woah! Careful, I’m not sure how hurt you got when getting in here, but they practically threw you into the cell doors earlier-”

“They’re going to poison the kid.” Sam cuts her off, and Puffy pauses. 

“...w-what?”

“The new prince, the one the Emperor has brought in-” Sam gets up, slams at the bars. “HEY!” He yells, and his voice echoes down the halls, but he doesn’t think it reaches anyone who should hear.

“Wait, no, they were after the portal, weren’t they?” Puffy asks, jumping to her feet as well. “Why would they-?!”

“His majesty is too focused on the new kid to give his full attention to the rats that are in the castle. They want him to be more distracted, so they’re poisoning the kid.” 

“I’m the royal nurse.” Puffy breathes out, and she’s hit with sheer horror. She’s the royal nurse, she’s meant to take care of the royal family. If she’s not there- “Help me pull at the door!”

Both her and Sam go to tug at the cell door, shaking it, hitting the lock. Sam tries kicking it in, the slam of metal ringing out. Puffy looks around for a rock, anything. They’re both people of the Antarctic Empire, and they’re both people of the Emperor. 

They’re both loyal. But also, they both have a concern for the child who’s been brought into the castle, who’s important to Phil.

Who’s in danger, without even knowing it. 

Puffy screams out into the stone halls as Sam tries to break the door with a rock in hand. This has gotten even worse than she thought. 

She’s worried, for sure. And she’s relieved when Sam tells her the poison shouldn’t be lethal. 

But now she definitely knows that the idiots who have thought up of this are royally screwed. 

---

Tommy and Tubbo are called out of Tommy’s room to go to dinner, and they quietly pretend as if Tommy was not going through an entire emotional dilemma for the past half hour or so.  

Technoblade and Wilbur seem smug for no reason, and to be honest it annoys Tommy just a bit. 

Niki and Ranboo seem comfortable though, and when Ranboo walks over to talk with them, he tells them of the giant garden that sits in the castle walls. Tubbo is ecstatic about that, and Tommy is definitely curious. 

Their little crowd is walking through the halls, Phil at the front, and they’re led to the dining room, where Tommy’s been twice already. He feels a bit bad about trashing it the first time, now that he’s remembering it. 

Dinner is just as ridiculous as it was yesterday, and Tommy is still just as baffled. Tubbo hits him in the arm as he’s freaking out, and Tommy feels the same in his reaction. 

Phil sits at the end of the table, Technoblade next to him, and Wilbur next to Techno. Niki sits beside Wilbur, and Ranboo sits across her. Tommy gets to sit beside Phil, and of course, Tubbo is next to him. 

There’s bowls of soup placed for them already, that, with the food that’s also in front of them. 

Technoblade looks at Tommy to see his reaction, to see how he whispers at Tubbo, the two of them snickering and excited to even be here. His eyes fall down to Tommy’s plate, and he falters. He looks at Tommy's dish, then looks at Wilbur’s. Looks at his own. 

 He nudges Wilbur as the others are distracted with the dinner before them.  

“Oh gosh, this is a lot.” Niki murmurs, Tubbo laughing. “How can there be so much?!”

“Anything that’s left over is usually left up for grabs.” Phil shrugs, drinking from his own cup, Tommy reaching over and picking at a bread roll. “It’s all gone by the end of the day.”

Wilbur tilts his head to Techno, who leans in towards him. He whispers into Wilbur’s ear, talks quietly of a small suspicion, maybe just paranoid, maybe just the voices in his head being strange, but Tommy’s food seems off.

Wilbur’s eyes fall to his own plate, and then to Tommy’s and a horrified look comes over his expression. 

The soup is a different color. Just barely, not enough for someone who’s never tried it to notice, but enough for Wilbur, Techno to absolutely take note of. They’re been through their fair share of poisonings, and they’ve had this soup a million times over. Techno notices how strangely green Tommy’s soup looks, and Wilbur’s heart stops. 

Tommy reaches up to grab his spoon, and Wilbur slams his hands onto the table, standing up out of his chair. It screeches back loudly, and everyone turns their head to him. “Tommy, don’t eat that!” 

It’s said with such panic that Tommy just freezes, and Tubbo slaps the bread that’s in his hand to the ground, as if it’ll come to life and attack Tommy. 

“My bread!” Tommy frowns. Technoblade gets up out of his seat. 

“Give me your bowl.” He asks, and Tommy slides it over, their company watching with wide eyes.  

Phil watches with an unreadable expression. 

Wilbur slides his own soup across the table, gets up to stand behind Tommy, who looks to Ranboo, Tubbo. They both stare back with a worried expression.

“There’s something put in this-” Technoblade says, placing the bowls so they’re side by side. The difference is obvious now, and Tommy’s looks drastically different than Wilbur’s. “This was tampered with.” 

“What the hell-?” Wilbur holds Tommy’s shoulder with a frown, and the table rises up in concern, voices talking over each other in confusion and anger. Niki looks appalled, and Ranboo seems concerned. Tommy glances towards Tubbo, who’s pushing his own plate away with a wary look.

There’s the sound of a cup being placed down with a loud clink, and the table falls quiet, the atmosphere in the room seeming to grow unnaturally tense. Everyone’s eyes are drawn to the Emperor who sits at the end of the table, and his cup is cracked on the bottom. 

Tommy pauses, any words that might’ve been said dying in his throat. Technoblade stands up straight, clearly unhappy, and Wilbur’s not amused with any of this either. 

But their faces, their expressions are nothing compared to Phil. 

Phil smiles thinly, staring at the tainted food with a burning look. Phil’s never been like this in front of Tommy, all Tommy has seen is him being kind, him being friendly. He’s reminded of the war that he was born into, and how it ended.

Phil stands up out of his seat, quickly excusing himself to go fetch a few guards, and to get some food that isn’t messed with.

He looks pissed.

Chapter Text

The thing is, Phil is a bit used to this sort of thing. He’s honestly grown used to it all, the idea of an attempt being made on his life is hardly scary, more annoying, if anything. 

An assassin trying to break into his room, poisons being snuck into his drinks, an ambush in the middle of the streets, when he is trying to just visit his people. 

But the thing is, Phil has been ruling for a long while, and he is a well-loved ruler. He protects the kingdom, and in turn they protect him, the one with the power they gave. What good is Phil as a king if his people don’t care for him? 

The entire kingdom started because Phil gave a home. A place for people to be safe and to be under his watch. 

Assassins very rarely get into his room thanks to the vigilance of his guards, who don’t let anyone pass the hallway when Phil and his family are asleep. Usually, his guards will fight tooth and nail, even to the point where there have been incidents where they lay on the ground in a puddle of blood, yelling at an intruder that’s trying to get away. 

They’re very devoted, and Phil is grateful for that. The few people that have ever broken into his room in the middle of the night were sentenced to jail time, and left to the mercy of his angry people. 

Those who got near the princes’ room, though, those poor souls are at the Emperor’s mercy. And at that sort of crime, the Emperor doesn’t have mercy. 

Poisons had always been a tricky one, but all his cooks are loyal, and Phil never needed to worry much on that one. He did go through a bit of training, building up resistance to certain poisons. None of that was ever pleasant, and Wilbur and Techno would stay at his bedside for hours.

Even with that added precaution, usually Phil didn’t have reason to worry. All the food that has ever been served to the royal family was always tested before it was placed on the table, and on the two few times it wasn’t, and poison slipped by, Phil had been back to full health within just a few days, with Puffy being quick on her healing potions.

After the multiple incidents of poisonings in Phil’s past, though, and close calls with his sons, it was strictly made sure that the food was always tested beforehand for poison. All the cooks knew this, anyone in the kitchens were very aware of that rule. It’s drilled into anyone who cooks and serves the royal family, because the Emperor’s safety, Phil’s safety can’t be put on the line.

The food is always tested beforehand. 

“So how the hell did a very obvious poison get into the food?” Phil asks, standing at the doorways of the kitchen, all of the cooks responsible for today’s dinner crowded around to listen. 

Specifically Tommy’s food. All the other dishes were checked, everything was untouched from being tampered with, except for Tommy’s. 

Someone specifically went for that kid, and Phil wants to know who .

The people huddled around all have their eyes pointed towards the ground, a bit hesitant from Phil’s burning stare going their way. It’s not hard to see, Phil is angry, and that emotion fills the whole room with tension. 

Usually, Phil is a rather calm person. Friendly, even, and he’s known for being approachable. But there are plenty of rumors about how Phil can turn down-right scary when one of his children has been put at risk.

Right now, at this moment, Phil’s expression and stance? Lives up to the rumors, in everyone’s opinion.

The kitchen feels heavy, and you could hear a pin drop with how quiet everyone has gotten. Phil is the only one speaking up, and he doesn’t need to talk loudly to be heard. 

Karl and Quackity are among the people in the kitchen, and they glance towards each other with a wary look, confused as to how poison got into the food. Especially such obvious poison as well. It had quite literally discolored the soup, that would’ve been noticed right off the bat, and yet it reached the table anyway.

“Your majesty,” Someone speaks up, voice slow and careful. “I swear to you all the food here was tested before it was sent out.”

“By who?” Phil asks, tilting his head. His tone is patient, reasonable, but a few of the cooks are still a bit scared of the possibility that they’re going to leave the castle tonight with no job.

“By our usual volunteers. We have three, and they all check the food willingly before it’s sent out to the dinner table.”

Phil crosses his arms, seeming to take in the words for a moment. “Okay. I want those three in front.” 

There’s the shuffling of people moving to the side, not a word spoken as three people step in front of the small crowd, the other cooks stepping back to give them space. Quackity finds himself right in the middle of the three testers.

“You three check the food for any tampering before you send it out, correct?” Phil questions, raising a finger to all three of them. “Did any of you fail to check it, or notice something unusual and fail to report it?”

Phil gets three resounding ‘no, your majesty’s before the room falls into silence again. 

Phil sighs under his breath. “I wouldn’t be angry if you simply failed to report it. Maybe it was just a mistake on your part, that’s fine, but I need to know if the poison came from this kitchen, or from outside.”

“Your Majesty, if I may?” Quackity raises a hand up, Karl having to stand on his toes to look over someone’s shoulder so he can see better. Quackity continues with Phil’s nod. “I checked that soup. I checked each one before they went out to the dining room, and each one seemed perfectly fine. I didn’t see anything tampered with, and I’m not affected by consuming any of it. I can confidently say, on all of our behalfs, that poison did not come from this kitchen.”

For a moment, Phil just blinks, leaning back on his heels with his wings shifting behind him. Then he nods, and there’s a collective quiet sigh of relief that goes through the room.

“I believe you. And I trust all of you. Thank you for your time, and be wary until we know who exactly tampered with the food.” And with that, Phil turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

The kitchen falls into overlapping conversations, everyone scattering out to their own groups, and Karl makes his way over to Quackity, grabbing him by the arm. 

“You really didn’t see anything wrong with the soup before it got sent out?” Karl asks, Quackity internally screaming a bit for having to deal with Phil’s silent intense anger. 

“Yeah- I mean, it tasted fine. The color seemed good, and I didn’t smell anything off.” Quackity nods, taking a big breath in, then letting it out in a big sigh. “But MAN, that was scary…” Quackity’s voice wobbles, like he’s going to start crying, and Karl slaps a hand over his own mouth to keep from laughing. “He was angry at meee! I thought I was going to disintegrate on the spot!”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen him like that.” Karl hums, trying to think of any other time he’s ever seen Phil truly angry. Him and Quackity have only been working here for a few months, and so far, there hasn’t been anything like that before. 

It was a bit nerve-wracking, in his opinion. 

“Godspeed to the idiot who did poison the food.” Karl says happily, clapping his hands together with a nod, and Quackity chokes on a laugh. 

---

Phil walks away from the kitchens with guards coming back to him with as much information as they can. Tommy, Wilbur, Technoblade, and their other guests have been put into another secure, safe room at the moment with food that was made sure to be not tampered with. That reassurance gives Phil some relief, but it doesn’t help with what comes next.

“And do we know what type of poison it was?” Phil questions, fiddling with a ring that sits on his finger as he walks down the hall. “Was Puffy able to recognize it?”

“I’m afraid she wasn’t in her office, and she wasn't anywhere around the castle, your Majesty.” 

Phil nearly pauses at that, but keeps walking, frowning a bit. “Did she leave?” He asks, then follows up right away with- “Send someone down to her house back in town to tell her to come back. Might need her around a bit more.” 

Puffy is usually knowledgeable in potions and anything of that sort, so if she were here, she might’ve been able to test the soup and figure out how deadly it was, how it could’ve been made, anything along those lines. However, today was supposed to be her last day of the week, and she was meant to go home tomorrow. Phil wouldn’t be too shocked to know if she went a day early, though. Occasionally, she’ll do so for certain reasons back home, and Phil usually lets it slide.

But they need her now, or at least as soon as possible, so Phil has someone sent out, and he knows it’ll take at least an hour, even with that person going full speed. 

All he can do right now is wait a bit and keep a careful watch over Tommy and everything around him. If someone around here is trying to kill Tommy, then Phil would need to strike back accordingly. 

After all, he does not take kindly to threats towards his children.

---

Tommy picks at his newly acquired piece of bread with a slight frown on his face. The couch he’s sitting on is comfortable, for sure, and he’s also just resting his legs onto Ranboo’s legs, purely to try and piss him off, but it doesn’t help with the mood-downer of apparently nearly getting poisoned. 

Tubbo is beside him, a plate of food in his lap and a fork in his hand. His shoulder is digging into Tommy’s back, but Tommy ignores it in favor of ripping his piece of bread in half and eating one half rather angrily. 

Niki and Techno are sitting across from them, with their own food on their plates, and Wilbur sitting on the floor, resting his elbows on the little table between the couches. There’s a half eaten plate of food in front of him, and he doesn’t seem to be wanting to touch it anytime soon. 

“Someone is out to get me.” Tommy mutters, his words a bit muffled since he’s still chewing on his bread. He takes a moment to properly eat the bread, then speaks again, to no one in particular. “No, the universe is out to get me. My luck has been a solid zero for the past like 24 hours and I am not appreciating it.”

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s been at a complete zero.” Tubbo responds, Wilbur raising his head up to Tommy. He snorts at how Tommy gives a glare his way, and Tommy’s unhappy expression cracks just a bit to let a small smile through. “This food is nice.”

“ My food was poisoned.” 

“But you know, you didn’t eat it.” Ranboo shrugs. His usual mask is pulled down around his chin, at Tubbo’s never ending persistence, but he’s very obviously a bit wary with anyone looking in his direction. As such, Tommy stares at Wilbur while responding to Ranboo. 

“But I could’ve.” Tommy raises his eyebrows, Wilbur frowning a bit. “I could’ve eaten poison, Ranboo, poison!”

“I doubt the poison was meant for you specifically.” Techno says, leaning forward on the couch and putting his plate onto the table. “It was probably meant for either me or Wilbur. Or Phil, maybe.”

“It was obvious poisoning, too.” Wilbur says to Tommy. “I’ve had that soup a thousand times over, I can tell you for sure it is not that color.”

“Thank you for pointing it out.” Niki gives a specific look towards Tommy. “Things might’ve gone much worse if Tommy did eat it.”

“Honestly, after all of this, I’d wouldn’t be surprised if Tommy died from soup, of all things.” Tubbo mutters, before taking a bite of his food. Tommy scoffs. 

It’s not that Tommy is bothered too much over the attempt on his life, well, he is, but with everything that’s happened, it’s not that important. No, what’s bothering him at the moment is the idea of this happening again. 

Mainly because of what Tubbo had told him earlier. If he gets into the royal family, he has a feeling poisoned soup would be a small concern compared to everything else that he’ll end up carrying. 

On one hand, Tommy is glad for any chance at having a family, especially with people who he knows are nice, and at the very least, not boring. But on the other, Tommy becoming a prince, going from one to hundred that quick? The clothes he’s wearing are nicer than anything he’s ever had. 

If he gets adopted here, are these going to become his fucking casual clothes?

Tommy likes to think he’s pretty important, but if he becomes a literal prince of the Antarctic Empire, there'll be no doubt that he is important. He’s not going to be just some orphan kid running around for any spare jobs, looking to get money to buy snacks down at the plaza, he’s going to be a literal member of the royal family, with an allowance that will no doubt dwarf any amount of money he’s ever gotten.

He’s freaking out, just a bit. 

It’s entirely jarring, and Tommy kinda hopes that maybe the adoption thing was just Tubbo thinking wrong, and maybe they’re terribly off track. Perhaps Tommy will go home today, back to the orphanage. Could be that. 

Or maybe he’s going back into denial, who knows. There’s a small voice in his head that sounds a lot like Tubbo that insists he’s falling back into denial. Personally, Tommy does not like that voice.

Tommy turns his head over to Technoblade, who’s carrying a conversation with Niki, him and Wilbur probably talking about something boring. Tommy still has half a piece of bread in his hands. 

He chucks it at Techno’s face. 

Wilbur chokes on air as Techno flinches back, the piece of bread bouncing off and hitting the floor. Niki is abruptly interrupted in the middle of her conversation with a face of disbelief, and Ranboo seems to stutter a bit, pulling his mask up over his nose and trying to melt into the couch cushions. 

“Tommy!” Niki exclaims, her voice incredulous, and Tommy can hear Tubbo sputter ridiculously. 

Technoblade narrows his eyes in Tommy’s direction just as Wilbur begins to laugh, and Tommy realizes as to why Niki, Ranboo and Tubbo are a bit appalled at the fact Tommy’s thrown a piece of food at Techno’s face. To them, Technoblade and Wilbur are princes, important and grand, by all means. 

To Tommy, though, he honestly just sees them as annoying. Sure, there’s a slow realization of ‘oh wait these guys are heirs to the throne’ but it’s very much washed out by the feeling of spite Tommy has sitting in his chest. He reaches behind him to Tubbo. “Give me your fork.” 

“No, no-” Ranboo tries to say, grabbing out to stop Tommy while Tubbo just hands his fork over without thinking.

“Ah- Wait-” Tubbo tries to grab his fork back as Technoblade gets to his feet and jumps over the couch to duck behind it. Tommy flings the fork towards his direction. 

“What did I do?!” Technoblade yells, Niki dodging to the side when the fork hits the couch and lands onto the cushions. 

“I’m blaming the soup on both you and Wilbur, since you guys were the ones who were supposed to be poisoned.” Tommy explains, a bit calmly, like it’s simply just a fact. “Ranboo, give me your fork.”

“No!”

“Hey, I saved you from getting poisoned!” Wilbur protests, ducking a bit as Tommy grapples for the fork on Ranboo’s plate. 

“Why do you think I’m targeting Techno first?” Tommy responds, Wilbur seeming a bit thoughtful at that. 

“Tommy, stop throwing things-” Niki gets up from her seat as Ranboo and Tommy starts to struggle a bit for who’s going to get control of the fork. Tubbo reaches over to steal the food off of Ranboo’s plate. “Hey!” 

“Technoblade, do you think you could win in a fight against Tommy?” Wilbur asks, leaning back on his hands, ignoring the raised voices of Ranboo trying to save his fork from Tommy’s clutches. Tubbo’s acquired a new plate of food, and he sits by the edge of the couch, picking at it and eating what he deems good enough. 

“What kind of question is that?” Technoblade answers, Tommy very much hearing the mocking in his voice. 

“I could beat you in a fight, couldn't I?” Tommy asks, pushing his palm against Ranboo’s face, still trying to pull the fork out of his grip. Niki is trying to pull him away from Ranboo, and Tommy carries on. “I can, I can! Tubbo, back me up.”

“He can’t.” Tubbo answers while eating a piece of food, Wilbur snorting.

“You can’t.” Technoblade repeats, and now he’s definitely mocking him. Tommy gives up on the fork, and instead goes for Techno instead, Niki and Ranboo desperately trying to stop him from picking a fight with royalty. Tommy notes that they don’t know that he’s already picked a fight with Wilbur, and he’s not dead yet. “What are you, twelve?” 

“I’m sixteen, you fuck- ”

“Fifteen, actually-” Tubbo corrects. “Our birthday is in a few days-”

“Tommy, stop kicking me-” Ranboo narrowly avoids being kicked in the head. Tommy intends for his next target for his foot to be Techno’s face.

“Hey, Tubbo, give me some of that.” Wilbur asks, Tubbo going over to him and sharing his plate of food that he stole from Ranboo. 

The front door opens, and everyone pauses for just a moment, all looking towards the door. Technoblade peeks over the couch to see Phil walking in with a quiet sigh. “Alright, so far everything seems to be alright, we’re not sure where-” He pauses. 

“Phil!” Wilbur grins. “Technoblade wants to fight Tommy.”

“I didn’t say that-” Technoblade protests.

“What?” Phil asks, confusion evident on his expression as his attention falls to the random fork innocently just laying on top of the couch. “I was gone for twenty minutes-?”

“ Oh- Niki, Niki, let me go, watch, I got this-” Tommy nods, trying to put his fists up towards Techno’s direction, Techno just giving an unimpressed look.

“I think it’s in my best interest to not at all let go-” Niki responds.

“-but I would not decline at a chance to beat him in a fight-” Technoblade continues, ignoring Tommy’s death glare being sent his way. Tommy seems dead set on proving a point that he’s able to fight, but really all Techno can see is something along the lines of an angry raccoon. It faintly reminds him of the time a raccoon stole Wilbur’s food one time when they had gone to visit down. That thing had been vicious.

“Don’t you dare underestimate me-”

“So, how are you doing, your majesty?” Ranboo asks, trying to be polite as Tommy tries his best to commit a murder.

---

They decide to move to the courtyard, for the grand fight. 

And by fight, it’s more of a very unfair, bullying type of a fight, because Tommy had been told that Techno wanted to try teaching him a few things. Phil thought it would be nice for them to get out of the room, and he said it would be a good learning moment. 

Apparently a good learning moment translates to: ‘Techno sweeping your feet out from under you and laughing as you hit the floor’.

“Yeah, Tommy!” Tubbo claps his hands as Tommy slams onto the ground once more, his wooden sword falling out of his hand and sliding away when Techno kicks it. “You’re doing terribly, but I am being supportive!”

“Encouragement!” Ranboo just yells, Tommy wheezing a bit. 

“Phil!” Tommy groans, Technoblade leaning back on his heels and looking towards Wilbur, who smiles back warmly at the fact Techno’s just dragged a child.

“You’re doing great, Tommy!” Phil calls out, turning back to Niki and their conversation. 

“Uhg.” Tommy turns over and shoves his face into his arms, curling up into a small ball. A foot nudges him in the side. 

“Didn’t you say you could win in a fight? This seems a lot like losing, to be honest.” Technoblade says, Tommy groaning again with slight annoyance. 

“This is all part of the plan.” Tommy mutters, turning back over onto his back and throwing a arm over his eyes. 

“Seems like a terrible plan.”

“You’re just not genius enough to see it.” Tommy waves a hand, trying to think. Okay, maybe he can’t beat Technoblade in a fight. There’s multiple factors going against Tommy, those being the fact that he’s never even fought with a sword before, not even a basic wooden training one. Technoblade is probably trained, being the prince and all. Tommy just has generally bad luck. 

Honestly, Tommy feels like the universe cursing him is a big reason as to why Techno has been able to knock him off his feet several times. 

“Rematch?” Techno asks, poking Tommy in the chest with his wooden sword, and Tommy bats it away, a new idea popping into his head. 

“No, no, new fight.” Tommy sits up, falters at the sight of Techno’s hand hovering in front of him. He takes it, lets Techno pull him to his feet, then goes to grab his sword that had been kicked away earlier. “Okay, I got it, I got it.”

“Got what?” Technoblade asks, raising his sword up, and Tommy takes several steps back so he won’t get dragged into another fight that’ll be over in moments. 

“Wilbur!” Tommy declares, turning around and pointing his sword right at Wil, who’s sitting off to the side with the others. “I wanna fight you.”

“...you want to what?” Wilbur asks, Techno snorting. “Fight me? You? Okay, fine, yeah I’ll go-”

“But, but!” Tommy cuts him off, waving a hand and turning his head towards Technoblade. “Techno, you’re fighting him for me. Represent me.”

“Why.” Techno raises his eyebrows.

“Because you are so very cool and nice to me.”

“Nope,” Technoblade shakes his head. “doesn’t sound like me.”

“Then you are a rude bitch.” Tommy switches up, enjoying the way Techno’s face scrunches up at that response. 

“No, no, I’ll fight Technoblade.” Wilbur says, walking up to Tommy and taking the wooden sword from his hand. “Maybe I’ll even win, who knows.”

“Doubt that.”

“Wilbur, beat him up.” Tommy whispers, holding a hand over his mouth. “If you win, then you automatically become cooler than him, believe me.” 

“I’m already cooler than him.” Wilbur whispers back, leaning down a bit, and Tommy narrows his eyes a bit. “Don’t you think so?”

“...No.” Tommy responds, Wilbur huffing. 

“Alright, that’s it, Technoblade, I’m beating you up.”

“What?” Techno asks, slightly thrown off with Wilbur’s sudden determination to fight. “I mean, you can try-” He’s cut off by Wilbur immediately swinging his sword towards him. 

Tommy runs off towards Tubbo and Ranboo, sitting beside Tubbo as Technoblade and Wilbur start to actually fight, their swords sounding out each time the wood hits. 

“They’re going to kill each other.” Tubbo mumbles, watching with wide eyes as Techno swings so quickly and harshly and he surely would’ve cut off Wilbur’s head if Wil hadn’t ducked in time. 

“I sure hope so.” Tommy says back, stretching his arms out in front of him, noting that he’s definitely going to feel at least a little sore from being thrown around by Technoblade. 

---

“I’m back!” Dream calls out into the house, closing the door behind him quietly and working on pulling his shoes off so as to not track snow inside. He's already a bit soaked from falling into the snow multiple times today, but his shoes and socks are a whole other story. 

Dream isn’t exactly surprised, since today he had taken a risk and jumped off a roof, only to land into a pile of snow feet first, but he was hoping his shoes would be a bit more durable against the environment. 

Well, at the very least, he didn’t fall flat on his face like last time. The band-aid on his nose underneath his mask still bothers him a bit and reminds him of that incident. 

“I’ve got a puddle in my shoe.” Dream says to himself, turning his shoe over and watching as a bit of water pours out onto the welcome mat by the door. Maybe he should be emptying this outside, now that he thinks about it. The growing puddle of water on the floor is something he’s going to have to clean up. 

“You’ve got a what?” Dream hears from down the hallway, and he pays the question no mind as he goes to stand right in the middle of the freezing puddle to open the door and shake his shoes out there. “Woah- hey, hey, you’re getting water everywhere!” Foolish exclaims as makes his way over to Dream. He gestures his arms towards the wet ground with bits of snow scattered around. There's a small pair of tweezers in his left hand.

“I’ll mop right now.” Dream responds, hitting his boots against each other outside to shake the last bits of snow off. They’ll dry out by tomorrow, Dream is sure of it. 

“Or you could’ve taken your shoes off outside .” Foolish stresses, Dream turning towards him and throwing his shoe as a response. “Hey!” He runs down the hallway, Dream’s shoe hitting against the wall and landing on the floor with a thump.

Dream closes the door behind him, putting his other shoe down beside the door and realizing he’s just standing in a puddle of cold water. “Foolish, could you get me a towel?”

“No!” Foolish yells in response, having run back to his room down the hall. “You threw your shoe at me!”

“Guess I’ll just get water everywhere, then!”

“Then you can mop the floors! They needed cleaning anyway!”

“I’ll throw my wet socks onto your bed.”

Foolish’s head pops out into the hallway, a deep frown on his face. “You wouldn’t.”

Dream grins from behind his mask. “Yeah I would.”

“I’ll lock my door.”

“Your door doesn’t lock.” Dream crosses his arms. The lock got broken yesterday from Dream running into it while in a rush. He’s really hoping they can figure out how to fix that before Puffy gets home. 

“Ha! Yes it can, I fixed it while you were gone.” Foolish grins triumphantly, and quietly, Dream is glad that problem is fixed. 

Dream sighs dramatically, lifting his mask up over his nose so it can show the way he is intensely frowning. “Pleaaase.”

“Fine.” Foolish sighs, going back into his room for a moment, and there’s the sound of a worrying crash, things getting knocked over, and Foolish comes back out as if nothing happened. He goes into the kitchen, leaving Dream just standing in a puddle of water by the front door, arms crossed. 

Honestly, even with Dream coming back a bit soaked and also missing the jacket he left this morning with, it’s better than how he usually comes home. Sometimes he comes back with a bleeding knee or a bad bruise on his back. On some rare occasions, he comes home early with his familiar smiley mask in pieces, after a particularly bad fall of some sort. The thing is durable, but not that durable when Dream flat out falls onto his face. 

Foolish likes to say that Dream has no self preservation, when really, in Dream’s opinion, it’s entirely the opposite. He has too much self preservation, hence why he goes to such drastic lengths as to not get caught during any sort of game of ‘manhunt’.

He forgets who started the game, but it’s been going on for months, and every day Dream runs out first thing after breakfast to start an overly intense game of tag out in the streets with George and Sapnap. Well, along the lines of tag.

 Dream is the target, and his friends are the hunters. A game like that might’ve gotten boring after a few days, with the streets being the same and not many places to run to, but Dream gets competitive. 

Stupidly competitive. 

It’s become habit at this point to just go all out, climb roofs, hide in piles of snow, even use sticks as a weapon at one point, because the way to win is to pin Dream down and catch him, but you can’t do that if you’re getting smacked across the face with a stick. 

“Here’s your towel!” Foolish chimes, throwing the towel at Dream’s face. Dream pulls it off from his face, and also goes to slip off his mask while he’s at it. He’s not fond of going without it, but he’s home right now, so he’s alright with taking it off. 

Dream dries off the puddle on the ground and takes off his socks, Foolish retreating into the kitchen as Dream walks past with a bluff of throwing them towards him. He goes to his room, and comes out a few minutes later with clean, dry clothes. 

Foolish is back in his room, and Dream stands at the doorway, taking in the organized chaos of random materials and tools that Foolish often uses for his little builds. The room smells of mint, and Dream knows from that, and the way there’s a faint green glow coming from Foolish’s hands that he’s using his magic again. 

“Hey.” Dream says, the glowing coming to a stop, Foolish turning around in where he’s sitting by his desk. There’s some sort of intricate design in front of him, maybe made of glass, and Dream waves a hand towards it. “I thought Mom said to not use your powers when she’s not home.” 

“I’m not.” Foolish protests, holding up another pair of tweezers, but this one is a different one, and one that Dream is fairly sure he didn’t have before. “Okay, just a little bit. I just wanted the right tool-!”

“I’m telling.”

“Don’t!” Foolish puts the tweezers down, turning in his chair. “I only made just that, honest.” 

“Only that?” Dream asks, raising his eyebrows. Foolish is capable of creation with his magic, making small things of his choosing, and even repairing something easily, but if he overuses it? He just gets knocked out cold. There’s a reason Puffy has banned him from using it while she’s not home, ever since she got back that one time and found Foolish just passed out on the ground while Dream was still out of the house. 

“Yup.” Foolish nods, face almost pleading. 

“Hmmm. Okay, but I’ll tell unless you do something for me.” Dream says with a grin, holding his mask up to his chest. 

Foolish squints at him for a long moment, before sighing. “You know you can just ask me to fix your mask like a normal person.” He holds his hands out anyway, and Dream walks into his room, carefully stepping over a box filled with what looks to be rocks.

“It’s just kinda cracked.” Dream says, giving it over to Foolish, who turns the mask over, finding that there is indeed a small crack at the top of it. 

“What, did you run into a wall again?” Foolish asks, running his fingers over the crack, humming a bit. 

“No! I fell.”

“Fell off where?”

“Off the ground. On the ground. I was on the ground, and that is where I fell.” Dream nods, Foolish snorting.

“I’m telling Mom you’re jumping off roofs again.”

“Where’s your proof?”

Foolish huffs, turning his back to Dream, but there’s a faint green glow that shines with his hands, and a moment later, Dream has his mask back, the crack perfectly gone. 

Dream slips the mask back over his face, adjusting the strap on the back of his head, and he pushes the mask over his nose to smile down at Foolish. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Foolish nods. “Now get out of my room.”

“No.” Dream responds, immediately turning around to touch something on the desk. 

He’s stopped from any mischief though by a loud knock on the front door, and both Foolish and Dream pause, looking at each other with a bit of confusion. 

Foolish is the one to go get up and answer it, and Dream follows at his heels, hovering in the hallway as the front door gets opened to show a royal guard standing at their doorway. Usually, the only guard that ever shows up at their house is Eret, and that’s because sometimes they have to bring Dream home after causing trouble out in the town. 

This one is a royal guard straight from the castle, and there’s a horse out in the street that’s clearly a sign that they just got here, and rode here. 

When they ask for Puffy to return to the castle, Foolish blinks with wide eyes, and looks back at Dream with a matching surprised and slightly worried face. 

“Uhm, she isn’t here? She was supposed to come back tomorrow, she still has one more day back at the castle?” Foolish answers, offering a shaky smile.

“Is she in the castle?” Dream asks. “Is something wrong?”

They don’t get a direct answer, only just that if Puffy shows up, she should be told to get back to the castle as soon as possible. The guard leaves without answering any of their questions, and they both watch them ride off on their horse.

“Dream, put on your shoes.” Foolish says, and Dream doesn’t even protest, even though his boots are soaked.

Chapter Text

Dream has stolen a horse. 

Now, on a normal day, this would be generally frowned upon. Especially by Foolish, who would probably smack him across the head and say something about respecting other people’s property, and all that. 

And Dream doesn’t have a habit of stealing horses, he did that only once during playing manhunt, and after the lecture Puffy gave him after, he never did it again. (At least, not without getting caught. He always returned the horse after! And Sapnap and George would swear to not tell.) Usually, Dream wouldn’t dare to act like a thief, stealing an animal from someone’s property and using it as a mode of quick transportation. 

This time it’s justified, though, because Foolish explicitly gave him permission to get a horse by any means so they can rush to the castle to demand answers. So, the moment Dream gets the word, he jumps someone’s fence and runs through the snow to grab a horse that he may or may not have been secretly visiting for the past few weeks. 

(He’s named the horse Spirit, in his head. The actual owner of the horse knows that Dream sneaks around and visits the horse occasionally, but since no true harm is ever done, he’s never been told to stay out.)

Foolish is a bit worried as to how Dream got a horse so quickly, but that concern is washed out with the worry over Puffy and as to why she isn’t at the castle. So, he climbs on with Dream, and they take the horse through the streets as fast as possible, their destination being the castle at the top of the mountain. 

As they go to catch up with the royal guard that’s heading back, though, there’s trouble brewing in the castle itself. 

The traitors who are looking to go after the portal quickly learn about the failed attempt on Tommy’s poisoning, and not only that, but Phil’s attention has clearly been turned onto them. Security is getting tighter, it’s become impossible to sneak around like before, and the sons of the emperor are practically untouchable, along with the guests that have been invited. 

While the Emperor himself is not actively searching for the traitors, he might as well be, with the orders he’s given out to report anything suspicious. He has eyes on each hall, each place of the castle, and it’s only a matter of time until a new swarm of guards are sent down into the stronghold, and the traitors are found out underneath their disguises of stolen armor. 

A new plan needs to be made, and quickly. There’s no time to try and break down the door, their best magic users have failed, and it’s proved to be practically indestructible. There’s only one way in, and that’s with the Emperor himself opening the door. 

So the traitors need to convince Phil to open the door for them somehow. The only problem here is how would they get the Emperor of the kingdom to listen to their orders, without being taken into custody by the royal guards first?

Drastic measures have to be made. 

A strong sorcerer walks out of the stronghold under the disguise of a royal guard’s armor. They make their way to the front doors of the castle, with a slow, yet urgent walk, so they may begin at making a distraction for the desperate stunt the traitors about to pull. 

The ball begins rolling. 

---

“Your Majesty?” A guard calls from the doorway, waving a hand. “You are needed.” 

“Sorry.” Phil grins, giving an apologetic shrug to Niki for cutting their conversation short. He stands to his feet, glancing over at Tommy, who’s cheering on with Ranboo and Tubbo, the three of them intensely focused at the fight between the two princes. They clap and cheer and scream with each close call, entertained with how the royal princes show off their respective skills in sword fighting. 

At this point, Phil really doubts it’s going to end without some sort of argument between the twins. The fight has nearly gotten vicious, while they both still swing away with their swords, Wilbur’s also punched Techno across the cheek, and Techno has kicked Wilbur in the stomach. 

They’re both grinning wildly through it, though, and while there’s probably going to be a few light injuries, they’re having fun. 

Phil gives a warning for them to be careful as he walks away, and watches with a snort as Technoblade tackles Wilbur into the ground, the two of them rolling as Tubbo yells about no mercy for the loser. 

“Is something wrong?” Phil asks, as soon as he walks out of the courtyard, the guard closing the door behind Phil as they both walk into the hall. 

“The person we sent out for Puffy came back with the news that she never arrived home. She’s not in the town, and she’s not in the castle, from where we’ve searched.” 

Phil frowns. If Puffy isn’t found in the castle, and she hasn’t gone home, then where is she? She wouldn’t leave without a word and hide somewhere else in the kingdom, she would never leave behind her sons, Phil knows that. He’s heard Puffy talk about them before, and Phil knows she would never willingly leave them behind. So if she’s gone, then it can’t have been by choice. 

A sharp worry curls up in Phil’s chest, and he bites at the inside of his cheek as concerns start to rise up in his head. 

“And…” The guard trails off, Phil giving his attention back to them. He nods to let them keep speaking. “Puffy’s sons had also followed back the person we sent to the town. They’re currently being held in a room right now. They’re demanding to see you.” 

Phil blinks. “Really?” He asks, slightly surprised. Puffy’s said before that her boys are deathly loyal, but he hadn’t thought it meant they would march right up to the castle the moment it seemed their mother’s safety was in danger. “Alright. I’ll go speak with them, then.” Maybe he’ll be able to calm their worries, and then after, he’ll put out a search within the castle to figure out who the hell is giving him this much trouble. 

First the portal, then Tommy nearly getting poisoned, and now his royal nurse being missing. 

Phil feels a bit peeved, and even though he’s calmed down considerably from the incident at dinner, he can feel it climbing back up. If it keeps climbing, he is fairly sure he is going to end up maiming someone, and he’s sure it’s going to be the culprit responsible for putting Tommy and Puffy in danger. 

Letting himself be led through the halls, Phil takes slow, deep breaths, his wings shifting behind him as he walks to the room where his new visitors are currently being kept. Usually, those who just walk up to the front gates of the castle are not at all allowed inside, unless by Phil’s orders. 

But these two are the sons of the royal nurse, their faces and reputation a bit well known around in parts of the castle, and they had been rather persistent when they arrived at the castle. 

Persistent as in very loud shouting, and then persuasive words that they could perhaps be useful in the new search for Puffy, who has now been put as missing. 

The room that Phil walks into is a simple meeting room, quaint and warm. There’s a small plate of food on the table, and the seats are comfortable, yet unused by their guests. 

Dream and Foolish are standing on their feet, talking quietly to each other, Dream with his arms crossed, head tilted down, and Foolish with his eyes flicking around the room as he listens to Dream’s rushed words. The moment the doors behind Phil close quietly, they both turn to him with a startling speed. Foolish steps forward to give a jerky bow, Phil offering a small smile at the way Foolish seems nervous right off the bat. 

“Your Majesty-” Foolish goes to say, being cut off by Dream, who steps right at him and points an accusing finger right at Phil. 

“Where the hell is our mom?” Dream practically hisses, Foolish sputtering and smacking a hand into Dream’s side. “Your majesty.” Dream adds, a bit too bitterly. Foolish smacks him again, and Dream elbows him back, Foolish kicking him harshly in the leg. Phil winces a bit at the way Dream makes a quiet noise of pain, before recovering and giving a stiff bow. Foolish gives a smile as if nothing happened. 

Phil feels charmed already by their first impression. (And they really do remind him of his sons, with the silent bickering.)

“Our mom, the royal nurse, uh- Puffy, is she here?” Foolish asks, Dream rubbing at his ankle where Foolish had kicked him. “You sent someone to our house for her. She wasn’t supposed to come home today, though, she isn’t back at town-”

“She’s supposed to come home tomorrow.” Dream speaks up, Foolish nodding. “And she’s not in the castle, according to what we’ve heard. So where is she?”

Phil sighs quietly. “To be honest with you both, I don’t know.”

A beat passes, silence hanging in the room for a moment, and Phil holds his breath, waiting for the outburst.

“What do you mean you don’t know-?!” Foolish yells, holding his hands to his head.

“You lost her?!” Dream asks, voice baffled. 

“Listen-”

“She’s your royal nurse! How could’ve you- She was seen going out of the castle, right? Or was she not?” Dream continues, waving his hands up. 

“Yeah! Have you searched around for her, or-”

Phil raises his hands up with a pointed look, and both of them go quiet. “Listen. Things have been hectic around the castle as of late, and I think Puffy might’ve gotten wrapped up in something bigger at hand. We are looking for her, alright? But we are also dealing with some current problems that are going on. I’m sure she’ll be found.”

“What problems would be more important than someone under your care going missing ?” Foolish asks, reaching out beside him to grab at Dream’s arm. Dream leans into him, just a bit. 

“An attempted poisoning at dinner.” Phil responds smoothly, Foolish blinking. “Along with evidence that someone has been trying to break into parts of my castle. Like I said, this is a bit bigger than you might think. It’s not just your mother-” 

Phil pauses, feeling a slight rumble underneath his feet, and just before he can say anything Dream grabs Foolish by the shirt and drags him to the floor, yelling- “Get down!”

The walls shake as Phil drops to the ground with them, rushing forward to curl his wings around them both as a knee-jerk instinct. A loud blast can be heard and felt from nearby, and Phil glances overhead, watches as the lights flicker and shake from the impact of whatever’s gone off. 

The front doors slam open, guards rushing in as Phil raises his head and turns to them, still knelt down by the ground as another blast rings out. 

“Your majesty, are you alright?!” Someone asks, and Phil waves off the concern. 

“What’s going on, what was that?” Phil demands, Dream and Foolish whispering to each other with wide eyes. 

“Suspected attack, somewhere down by the main halls-” Phil gets as an answer. Of course the details wouldn’t be known if the blast has just barely gone off. Even so, Phil feels a sharp irritation course through him at not knowing what’s going on. 

There’s another rumble, truly shaking the walls this time, and Phil can practically feel it. Someone yells down the hall for reinforcements, and Phil takes in a deep breath to calm himself, smelling a bit of smoke. 

He rises to his feet, pulling Foolish and Dream up with him. “Alright, get these two away and somewhere safe-” Phil pushes them at the guards, Foolish stumbling as he tries to turn back. 

“Wait- what about-” Dream goes to ask, Phil holding onto him by the arm as he leans forward. 

“We can continue talking later, but you both need to go.” Phil says, voice holding no room for any argument. “Go, take them.” He says to the guards, and watches as the two brothers are quickly escorted out of the room, down the hall in the opposite way of where the approaching smoke is coming from. Strangely, Phil notes the smoke is a dark, deep red. 

Holding a sleeve to his nose, Phil follows them out with guards staying at his sides, trying to make sure Phil won’t be attacked at any time as soon as he glances down towards where the next explosion rings out.  

“I want reinforcements towards whoever is making those explosions, and put the castle into lockdown. My sons and the guests are still in the courtyard?” Phil asks, turning his head to look towards one of his guards. 

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Move them somewhere secure, keep them there until everything is settled down.” Phil orders, then walks right into the smoke, trying to stifle down the quiet anger that keeps trying to claw its way up. He’s got this. This is under control. 

---

It’s not very under control.

The sorcerer in the hall has a single mission, and that is to create a distraction through as much destruction and fire as possible. Here’s one way to get the Emperors' attention: set his castle ablaze. 

This entire task is a bit of a suicide mission, because once the sorcerer is caught, there’s no doubt they’ll be dragged away to never be seen again. So they put everything they’ve got behind their attacks, aim at anything that even moves. The guards can’t get close enough, and the Emperor himself is cowering behind cover, helpless against raging fire that’s starting to spread through the halls. 

The smoke is eye-catching and suffocating, deep red choking out anyone close enough, and the flames burning anyone who tries to rush forward. The sorcerer may be surrounded, but what can the royal guards do if they can’t even get close? 

A good ten minutes have passed, which might be enough for their plan to at least start settling in place. If everything is going right, the guests of the emperor are currently getting swarmed with their best men, right now. 

As for the princes, everyone knows of Techno’s fighting abilities, and the way he and Wilbur can work together as if they read each other’s minds. For that, the simple solution is to just lead them away, for just enough time so that their target can be grabbed and taken down into the stronghold, where they will bargain for the portal in exchange. 

It’s a rushed plan, and maybe one with too many holes, but it’s all they’ve got, so the sorcerer stays on their feet, and goes to set the ceiling on fire, raising their hands up, feeling their magic crackle and burn at their palms, then-

An arrow whistles through the air, and digs itself right into the sorcerer’s hand. 

They scream, jerking back and stumbling on their feet a bit as pain flashes through their palm, sharp and unexpected. Whipping their head up, they search for the idiot who’s shot it, the person who’s gotten the courage to step out of cover under the risk of being burnt to a crisp, just so they could fire an arrow into the sorcerer’s hand.

The smoke doesn’t quite clear, but it shifts, just enough to make out Phil’s face across the hall. His figure is hard to make out, but it’s easy to see the bow held in his hands, pulled back with another arrow, and it’s easy to see his eyes , which are pointed directly onto his target. 

His eyes burn with a fury worse than the very flames around the halls, and the sorcerer feels as if maybe, this whole plan was always meant to go sideways. 

---

The princes and the emperor's guests are quickly moved into a secure room the moment it’s ordered, and two guards are placed at the door which is the only way in, as always whenever the castle goes on lockdown. 

There’s not much information as to what is going on, and there’s not much that the royal guards can say in response to the princes pestering questions, so the tension in the air is thick as they all sit in the room, silent and waiting. 

Niki suggests it’s perhaps a physical attack, after the failed poison from earlier. Something of a more drastic approach, since the first attempt went badly. Techno seems to agree with that guess.

Ranboo keeps making quiet little warbling sounds, which is something he always does, but it gets worse whenever he’s particularly nervous or upset, like now. Tubbo begins rambling about the time he and Tommy stole a chair from a store, and Tommy bickers with him on the details of the story, their clashing voices being some sort of comfort to the others of the room. It’s endearing, in a way, to watch how Tommy and Tubbo butt heads over who exactly grabbed the chair first, because no, Tubbo, it was you, you said you could carry it, you always carry things, Mr. Strong guy-!

Outside, the two guards are caught in a quiet scuffle, apprehended quickly enough, with not enough noise to alert the people inside the room. While the royal guards are dragged off to be hidden somewhere else, decoys are put in place, and one more ‘guard’ knocks on the door, with their objective being to lead the princes away. 

“His majesty is asking for you both.” They lie, the room quickly falling silent at the announcement.

Techno glances at Tommy, then looks to Wilbur, the both of them not yet standing to their feet. “Just us?”

“Yes, and urgently.” They confirm, and Wilbur frowns, but listens, getting to his feet. After all, if Phil is asking for them during a lockdown, then it must be important, right?

The princes leave the emperor’s guests behind.

As soon as they’re far enough, that’s when they go into the room to go after their target, with the same technique as before. They still have the mask of being one of the royal guards, so it’s not hard to ask for Tommy to come along because he’s being called for. 

Tubbo is a bit stubborn in letting him go, though. 

“Only him, I’m afraid.” The guard tries to say, Tubbo having none of it and shaking his head, Tommy holding back a laugh when Tubbo grabs onto his arm with a death grip. 

“No, I’m going with.” He insists. “Do you have any idea of the shit he’s gotten up to?”

“It wasn’t on purpose-!” Tommy tries to protest.

“Like that matters!”

“We don’t have time for this.” They’re both told, the guard glancing back at the door with a hesitant air to them. They’re here only for Tommy, because they know that he’s the key to the door, one way or another. 

It’s a bit hard to do that with Tubbo at his side though. 

“His majesty is asking for Tommy and Tommy only.” They stress, Tubbo just waving a hand and not seeming to take the words seriously. 

“He can deal with it.” Tubbo deadpans, Ranboo snorting in the back. 

“Just let him go.” Niki suggests, seeing nothing wrong. “They’re best friends, I’m sure his majesty will understand. Especially if we’re in such a situation like right now, with the castle on lockdown.” 

There’s a beat of silence, the guard looking down towards Tubbo and Tommy, who quietly talk at each other, discussing what Phil would even need from Tommy right now, if he’s asking for him after he asked for the princes. 

“Excuse me.” The guard says, tugging gently at Tubbo’s arm, then yanking so hard that he goes tumbling to the floor. 

“Tubbo!” Tommy yells, rushing to help, then getting grabbed by the back of his cape, being pulled towards the door. He stumbles, choking a bit with the fabric pulling at him, and both Niki and Ranboo jump to their feet. 

“Woah, woah-” Ranboo drops to the ground to help Tubbo up, who stands on his feet with a baffled expression. It quickly turns furious when he realizes Tommy is quite literally being dragged towards the door. 

Tommy’s hands fumble at the clasp of his cape, and he’s able to take it off, letting the guard have it as he falls forward, coughing a bit and stumbling towards Tubbo, who grabs Tommy and pulls him away from the door. 

The guard steps forward to reach out towards Tommy, and Niki steps in front of them, pushing Tommy and Tubbo to stand behind her. Ranboo stays standing behind all of them, looking over their heads with narrowed eyes. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Niki demands, arms raised out to her sides. 

“Don’t fight with us.” The guard warns, and Niki realizes the other guards that were supposed to be protecting them are hovering at the door, only helping the intruder. “Just give the kid over, and you can stay in here.”

“Fuck you!” Tubbo spits out, Tommy rubbing at his throat with an agreeing nod. 

“Something is wrong.” Ranboo whispers, and Niki quietly agrees. 

“Did Phil actually ask for Tommy?” Niki asks. 

“Give the kid to us.” They say again, and there’s weapons in their hands. Before, Niki had been reassured at the fact they were protected with such weapons, but now, they’re pointed right at her. 

“Are you even with the Emperor?!” Tommy yells out.

“We don’t have time for this.” 

“I’m not giving him over.” Niki grits out, stepping back again, pushing the others to stay behind her. “Don’t you dare take another step, I’m warning you.”

They don’t listen, instead they just raise their weapons, point them right at her face-

“Ranboo, take them both and run!” Niki yells, and she lunges forward with a yell, narrowly avoiding getting stabbed in the shoulder and tackling the guard into the floor. 

“Okay, let’s go!” Ranboo steers Tubbo and Tommy to circle around the seats in the room, trying to escape the person that’s gone to chase after them. 

“Niki!” Tubbo yells, Tommy swearing loudly as he realizes they’re still trapped in the room, with someone blocking the door.

“Hold on!” Ranboo warns, grabbing them both by the shoulders, and Tommy’s world flashes out for a moment, before coming back, and- 

They’re in the hallway, particles floating all around them.

“You can TELEPORT?” Tubbo shrieks, Ranboo just groaning in response, resting his palms on his knees and trying to not puke. Tommy looks behind them and realizes they are not very far, actually, because the room they just came from is right down the hall.

“GO GO GO-!” Tommy yells, pushing them both forward, all three of them frantically running down the hall. 

“Why did you never tell me you can teleport ?!” Tubbo demands, holding his hands to his head as they all sprint. “THAT’S SOMETHING I SHOULD KNOW!”

“WELL, IT NEVER CAME UP!” Ranboo gives as an answer, throwing his hands up into the air. “And it’s not something I do often! Last time I did it, I got stuck on the roof-”

“Can we please focus on the bad guys trying to fucking kidnap me!?” Tommy screams, feeling like that is the main issue at the moment. “Something is very wrong, these people are very much not with Phil, and- ah fuck.” Tommy swears as he realizes there’s people at the end of the hallway, a roadblock to freedom. 

They all stumble to stop and turn around, but there’s more people behind them, boxing them in. 

“Okay, do it again, do it again!” Tubbo yells, latching onto Ranboo’s arm. Ranboo grabs onto Tommy’s hand, and he listens to Tubbo’s frantic orders, trying to teleport once again, Tommy’s world flashing out for a single moment-

They reappear again a bit down the hall, not nearly far enough. Ranboo pulls his mask down to try and breathe easier, leaning a bit onto Tubbo. 

Tommy looks behind him, seeing the bad guys from before rapidly approaching. 

“Okay, okay, we need to keep going-” Tommy insists, both him and Tubbo pushing Ranboo to keep walking. “We need to-” Tommy stammers, looking behind him again, heart beating too fast in his chest, as he realizes they’re getting too close and Ranboo looks dangerously close to passing out-

“Alright.” Ranboo chokes out, standing up straighter, and the world blinks out one more time. 

They reappear in a room this time, particles flying over their heads, and Tommy shakes his head to try and steady himself, and watches as Ranboo crumples to the ground. 

“Ranboo-!” Tubbo yells.

“Shit, shit-!” Both Tommy and Tubbo try to slow his fall, and fail, instead just falling onto the floor with him, all three of them hitting the ground with a thump.

“Ranboo!? Hey!” Tubbo grabs at Ranboo’s face, slapping him a bit. “Wake up! This is not the time!”

“Oh great, he’s dead.” Tommy mutters out, leaning back on his knees with a weary sigh. “We’re dead.”

“He’s not dead .” Tubbo snaps, sounding a bit appalled that Tommy would even suggest such a thing. “And we’re fine, we teleported into-” Tubbo and Tommy look up, observing the room they’ve gotten into, blinking at Dream and Foolish, who look back with varying degrees of confusion.