Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ow ow ow ow ow ow!! He’d gone overboard with the spike balls again…every muscle in his body felt like it was on fire. He’d summoned 12—no, was it fifteen, he wasn’t good with numbers. Whatever it was, it had to be a new record. He tried to stir, only he couldn’t move. Hey! What’s the big idea? He tried harder, but there was something heavy on his chest. Was that why it was so hard to breathe? Where was he? What was going on?! Why couldn’t he move?!

Something shifted and groaned and weight leaning against him got even heavier and he whined. He wanted to cry out, but he didn’t have enough air. He chirped desperately and let out a slow screech. No one answered. He was alone. He issued another chirping cry. He was trapped. He couldn’t escape. Whatever was on him was weighing him down. It felt hard and sharp. Like cracked stone…wait. The pillars. He remembered getting carried away, summoning three giant spike balls at once…he hadn’t meant to—but he was just so angry at Mario for always ruining Father’s chances with Peach! He remembered the giant crash and the ceiling starting to crumble and then—then nothing. He was—he was still here.

The castle. He’d knocked the castle down. And it had fallen on him. That’s why it was so heavy, why he couldn’t move and could barely breathe. He started to sob. His siblings were probably busy fighting Mario. They wouldn’t know he was in trouble…and Father was with Peach…his shallow breaths became even faster. He couldn’t move. He could feel the sharp pieces of rubble digging into his scales. His shell hurt. His muscles hurt. He was trapped and no one was coming to save him. He was gonna die. Oh, no, he was gonna die! Morton didn’t want to die! He sobbed and chirped forlornly.

Rustle, clink, clunk, grrrsht! Something was moving! Something was moving and it wasn’t him. Was someone else here? He gasped for breath and forced out a koopa trill, trying to get an answer.

More shifting followed. It was getting closer.

He made a clicking a cry for help. Pieces were moving around. He heard some rocks crumble away nearby and uneven, cautious steps coming toward him.

“Hello?”

Mortons heart sank like a stone. He recognized that whiny voice. Green Mario. He closed his mouth and didn’t answer. Maybe if he stayed silent the green Mario wouldn’t see him. That hope was dashed when Greenie uttered an exclamation and ran straight towards him.

“Holy cannoli!!! Are you awake? Can-a you hear me?! Mama mia!”

Morton was shocked when soft, glowed hands touched his face almost gently… He growled.

“Stay…away…” he gnashed his teeth and tried to snap at the fingers, but he couldn’t see where they were.

“Wah!!” Luigi said, yanking his hand away. “Mi dispiace! I was afraid you were dead!”

“Why? You’ve…come…finish…me…off.” He panted between every word. Greenie was messing with the rocks on top of him. Morton could feel the weight starting to loosen. If Green Mario kept doing that maybe he’d be able to slip away…he tried to move, but his breath and his strength quickly failed him. He stifled a cry of pain.

“I’m not-a here to finish you off. Stay still, piccolo. I’ll get you out.”

Morton opened his eyes. Oh. That’s right. He could open his eyes. Why hadn’t he tried that sooner? It was really dark, save a narrow tunnel of light presumably the way Green Mario had come. His pupils adjusted to find the brother of Papa’s nemesis too close for comfort. The scrawny plumber looked serious.

“Get…me…out?”

“Si, you’re-a trapped. Your—your shell is cracked.” Green Mario’s voice broke.

“Oh.” Morton still didn’t understand why the Mario brother was trying to set him free, but his chest was so heavy he didn’t really care. He hated feeling trapped like this. He struggled to get enough air.

“Keep breathing Piccolo. Please, don’t give up,” Green Mario’s voice cracked.

“Why…do…you…care?”

That grip was back on his face. Blue eyes were staring straight into his. Morton had been faced with a look like that before. In Neo Bowser city on vacation when he’d gotten excited and ran across the street ahead of his siblings. He almost got hit by a speeding car. Papa and Kamek were so furious. The human was frowning at him with that same fury, mustache twitching. When did Green Mario become so scary?

“I care.” Green Mario said, resuming work on the rocks. Morton believed it, even if he didn’t understand.

The weight lightened again, and Morton sucked in air like a starving man inhales food. Mario’s brother started talking again, and Morton found he liked the human’s voice better than the scraping sound of the rocks.

“I never-a wanted to hurt anyone. I know Mario and I hurt you before. If-a we have to keep fighting, we probably will again, and I’m sorry. I don’t like hurting people. Especially bambini.”

“Bam-what?”

“Kids.”

“I’m strong.” Morton tried to justify, only he didn’t feel very strong like this. He was scared, and still in a lot of pain. His brave face crumpled. He tried to stifle a whimper.

“It’s-a okay to be scared, piccolo.”

“B-but,” with more of the weight steadily disappearing, breathing was getting easier and so was speech, “I have to be strong. For Papa and the others. They need me to be strong…” he lamented. In the dark Morton found himself quietly confessing his innermost fears. “That’s what I am. If not strong, then,” he sobbed, “then what?”

“Oh, bambino…” Luigi’s voice was smooth and soothing. His glove returned to stroke Morton’s head, softly.

Why was Green Mario doing this? Why was he so gentle? Why was he so soft? Why was he making him say these things? No, that was wrong. Green Mario hadn’t made him say anything. Why did he feel he could? Was it just because the human was warm and gentle? Why was Green Mario trying to save him? He wasn’t strong enough to win against Mario. He wasn’t smart or fast enough to get away before the castle fell. He started to cry.

“Hush, hush now. It’s alright. You’ll be-a okie dokie in-a no time.”

Luigi went back to freeing him, moving faster. Morton bit his lip.

“Green Mario?”

“Si?”

“When King Dad finds out, he’ll be really upset.”

“Yes,” Luigi said flatly in between lugging rocks off the pile. “But I think he will be more worried about you, principe.”

“He’ll just be mad I got beat by Mario again,” Morton grumbled. Green Mario was probably right, but it had been a long time since Dad had time for anything besides fighting Mario and stealing the princess.

“I’m sure that isn’t true. Your Papa loves you.”

“We’re adopted…” he wasn’t sure why he told the Mario brother that. “All except Junior.”

“That doesn’t matter, uh, what is your name, piccolo stella?”

“Morton.”

“Morton, I saw your Papa fight-a Mario last-a year. Do you-a remember?”

“Where we used our magic to make him extra big?”

“Si. Mario was a-going to fight-a you. And your Papa protected you. He doesn’t want anything bad to-a happen to you. You are his bambini.”

Morton frowned, but the green Mario’s words stuck in his brain.

The next rock the human moved caused a little cascade and dust filled the air. They both coughed and Morton shifted then quickly realized: “I can move!”

Green Mario said something in that funny language that sounded relieved and came to help him up the rest of the way. Morton tried to stand and his right leg buckled. He cried out in pain.

“Slowly, piccolo stella, slowly! You’re hurt!” Something groaned ominously above them. Green Mario’s face hardened. “We have to get-a out of here before this whole place comes-a tumbling down!”

Before Morton could so much as speak, he was swept up into the creature’s wimpy arms. More groans and creaks echoed around them and bits of debris began to fall. Oh no. They weren’t gonna make it. They were going to die here after all. Morton closed his eyes, ready for the darkness to swallow him again, but—they burst out through a narrow gap into broad daylight. Green Mario had made a desperate leap for the exit. The landing was rough, but it was worth it. Morton’s heart was beating fast. He felt his head and his limbs to make sure they were all still there. The Mario brother’s arms were wrapped around him, protectively, to shield him from the hard rolling impact with the ground. He didn’t move. Morton got up on one leg. The man on the ground groaned.

“Hey! Are you dead?”

“No, principe. I do not think so.”

“Well, good, I guess.”

Morton stared at the pile of rubble that had just fully collapsed behind them. He was glad green Mario had gotten him out. That would have been a pretty lame way to die. He tried to step forward with his injured leg and hissed. Great! How was he supposed to get home like this? He might have to wait for someone to come and get him…but that was weak. He needed to get home on his own. He grit his teeth and took three more steps before collapsing. He got up and tried again, biting his lip through the sobs.

“Morton…” Green Mario gasped.

“Gotta get home. I’m not weak…”

Green Mario was fiddling with something off to the side lying against the trees. Some kind of bag. He kept trying to walk until he collapsed for a third time. The pain was unbearable…he curled up and chirped his distress. Green Mario’s worried face hovered above him.

“Here, this will-a make it better!” Morton didn’t have the strength to fight the gloved fingers as they opened his jaw and shoved something soft and kinda rubbery inside. Warmth like Kamek’s healing magic pulsed over him. His leg stopped hurting, his headache faded, and the stiffness in his chest went away. He cautiously rose and tested it lightly. It felt fine. He took one step. Then another. Then three more. He was fixed! He was better. He turned back to look disbelievingly at the green Mario. Why did the human still look worried?

“But, your shell isn’t—”

Morton looked. It was deeply cracked. Ugh. How annoying. It wouldn’t protect him now. Probably couldn’t even spin properly. He tried to slide it up and off, but the crack had warped the shape. He growled. Green Mario jumped. He narrowed his eyes and barked: “Hold here!”

“Scusi?”

“Grab shell.” He ordered. The human obeyed. With that little bit of help he wriggled out. Turning back to the take it from Green Mario’s hands for a better look, his nose twitched. He sniffed and followed his nose. Oh. Green Mario wasn’t as green as usual. One sleeve of the green long-sleeve shirt was stained dark reddish-brown. It had left a streak on his shell also, probably during their close escape from the crumbling castle.

“You’re bleeding.”

The human was opening and closing his mouth like a cheep cheep. Morton swiped his shell away from gloved hands. It was worse than he thought. No way this could be fixed. The carapace had a spiderweb of cracks centered around an impact mark between the spikes. Dad was not gonna like this…why was Green Mario still staring?

“What?”

“You…you can take off your shell?”

“Of course! Morton is a koopa!” he stomped his foot, then frowned at his shell again, clicking frustratedly.

“Oh. Where Mario and I come from, turtles, er, our koopas, their shell is attached to them. Like it’s part of their body.”

Morton’s chin pulled inward and his mouth curled in disgust. “Tuttles sound weird.”

Green Mario laughed. “I suppose they are. So, you’re all-a fixed up?”

“Yeah, but shell is broken.” He kicked it, annoyed. It swerved and bumped strangely, landing somewhere in the pile of rubble. He huffed, then glanced back at the human. “You’re still bleeding.”

“Si, but it’s just a scratch.”

“Fix it.” He ordered. After everything the green Mario had done, he didn’t really like watching the man bleed.

“I-uh—” the green bean’s face turned red. “That was-a my last healing mushroom. I need to-a go stock up.”

The Green one had used the last healing mushroom…on him? His confusion showed, because the human said:

“You-a needed it more, piccolo. You were very hurt.”

“But—” Morton could see that the red stain was still very wet and fresh. It had to hurt. Wait…something else was wrong here. Why was the green one alone? Mario was with them during the fight.

“Where’s Mario?”

“He went ahead.”

“Left behind?” He didn’t understand. He’d rarely seen the two apart.

“Si. I told him I would catch up.”

“So, Green Mario is alone and hurt,” Morton considered.

Luigi tensed.

“Morton can beat you without Mario,” he grumbled. Green was already injured. It would be easy.

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Cuz you think Morton is weak?”

“Because I don’t-a want to hurt you, piccolo.”

“Then I hurt you.” But the words had no power behind them. He was trying to reason this out. Green Mario had done all this…just to help him? He was frozen stiff by the green one suddenly rushing him as though to attack, only to wrap him in a tight, warm hug. He blinked.

“Morton, you don’t have to fight to be strong.” Green Mario whispered in his ear. Morton choked on a sob as all the fear, all the tension, all the hurt of the last few hours came rushing out of him. Greenie just held him until his sniffles stopped. By then, he was hugging back. He felt warm and soft and safe in a way he hadn’t for a long time. He didn’t want to let go, but…he looked at the sky. He should start the journey home. Without an airship, he’d be lucky to make it back by dark.

“T-thanks, Green Mario.”

“Luigi. My name is Luigi.”

“Luigi.” Morton decided it was a good name and that he’d always remember it.

“Kamek, check on the Koopalings. I want to know how far Mario’s gotten.” Bowser barked. It was high noon. Only a few hours ago, he’d managed to swipe Peaches away. The kids were manning their outposts. He expected to hear from them anytime now. Hopefully the plumber wasn’t going so fast as to spoil his dinner plans.

“Yes, sire!” The loyal advisor vanished in a puff of smoke.

Bowser didn’t see the Magikoopa again until dinner. He’d been trying to sweettalk Peaches into eating, but so far she was being stubborn.

Poof! “Your royal highness!”

Bowser’s eyes tore away from Peach and whipped over to his advisor. Kamek almost never called him by proper titles. The Magikoopa’s face made the king’s heart skip a beat. Kamek’s beak was anxiously clenched, and Bowser couldn’t see the eyes behind the glasses. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, horribly wrong. He stood up and his tail knocked over his favorite dining chair as it twitched in agitation.

“What’s happened?”

“Mario has reached Wendy, sire, but Morton’s castle outpost…”

“What about it?” Bowser growled, smoke and flames curling in his mouth.

“It was decimated. The entire structure collapsed.”

“What?! Where’s Morton?!”

Kamek just floated there, trying repeatedly to open his beak, only to close it again. Bowser felt as though his heart had been dunked in icy water.

“KAMEK!” He roared, trapping the broomstick in his grip and starting to squeeze. “Where. Is. Morton?”

“I don’t know.” The magikoopa confessed, softly.

Bowser’s world was crumbling just like the castle had crumbled hours earlier. Kamek’s broom was creaking in his grip. “Kamek…where’s my son?”

“All I found was this, my liege…” Kamek waved his wand and a compact, round shape materialized. Bowser caught it reflexively. When he recognized it, he keened. Morton’s shell…it was—it was cracked almost in two. There was a reddish-brown smear all along one side. Bowser didn’t want to, but he brought it up to his face and sniffed. Iron. Blood. His roar shook the earth.

“Go back. Move every piece of rubble if you have to! Find my son.”

“Yes, your royalness.”

He hugged the broken shell to his chest and closed his eyes. Morton…

“Bowser?”

Her sweet voice was the last thing he needed right now. “Shut up.”

“I’m sure he’s alright. Mario would never—”

Fire exploded from his mouth to blast the wall above her. It did nothing against the stone, but he needed to get it out. “If that monster is responsible for this, I’ll have his head on my gate!” He shouted. He meant every word. “Morton’s a kid! He’s just a kid—” his distress was starting to show.

“Then maybe you should think a little harder before you put your kids in danger!” She shouted back. “This is no one’s fault but yours!”

His snout wrinkled and he stomped to loom over her. She didn’t budge. She rubbed salt straight into his wounds.

“If Morton’s dead it’s your fault.”

He stormed out of the dining room. He hated that she had the nerve to speak to him that way, hated that she even felt entitled enough to get involved, but most of all, he hated that she was right.

He needed air. He burst out the castle gates and down the path through the town. He stomped past shops and restaurants and no one called out to him. They could tell he was upset. He went all the way to the edge of the lava fields. The mountain slopes led downward into Dimble woods. From here he could just make out the twins’ outposts. He knew it was dangerous letting his children fight, but they were all as stubborn as he was. They would try to help him regardless, so eventually he’d stopped trying to dissuade them. He never thought—never dreamed—that they could get seriously hurt…Mario had never irreparably injured anyone before. Bowser’s fists tightened. If Mario truly was opting for more ruthless tactics, none of his children were safe. What guarantee did he have the bastard wouldn’t deliberately target them to get to him? He growled darkly at the thought. Stupid! He was stupid to think that human would exercise honor and restraint around children! That was the koopa way. And Morton…

Morton…his little star…he dropped to his knees and ran his fingers through his hair with a whine. Please…please. If anyone was listening. Let his son be alive. Away from his sharp-eyed subjects, guards and advisors, the king allowed himself to cry with deep croaks of koopa grief and anguish. He lost himself in the pain. They’d taken them in…they were his. Their koopalings. Their babies. He’d already lost her...he almost lost Junior…and now he’d let one of their babies get—get—

Chp! Chp! Click! Click! Chp!

Excited calls. Someone was calling him. A small shape rushed up from behind and tackled his spiky shell, scrambling up it, gawkily. A flurry of chirps, from questions to soothing murmurs erupted as the small creature came around and latched onto the side of his face. Bowser emerged slowly from his lethargy on instinct to support them before they fell. No shell? That was odd. He looked and shot up to his feet.

“Morton!” Bowser snatched the little one and held him at arms length, looking him over carefully and smelling him. Why did he smell like mint and orange blossoms? Bowser couldn’t bring himself to care, rubbing that face against his jaw to mix their scents together. “My star! You’re alive! Are you hurt? Tell me where it hurts! We’ll make it better! Kamek! KAMEK!”

Poof!

“Morton!” He held the koopaling out toward the Magikoopa like a pet he’d just given a bath to. Morton chirped unhappily, which was enough to at least get the big Koopa to hug him tight and safe against his warm plastron.

“I see that, your giddiness, but perhaps you should put him down so I can be sure he is uninjured.”

Bowser obeyed.

Morton pouted. “Morton is fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, young one!” Kamek argued, waving his wand over Morton’s head. “He was recently injured, but they appear to be healed?” He raised an eye-ridge at the koopaling.

“Found healing mushroom.”

“What kind of injuries—”

“Dad, I’m fine.”

“Morton,” Bowser warned, sternly and turned back to Kamek, “what injuries?”

“Broken leg, three fractured ribs, head injury, broken clavicle, internal bleeding, cuts and bruises.”

Bowser snatched his son up again and held him close to his heart. “Morton…you could have—you—” then his voice hardened. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“Dad…I—” Morton bit his lip, then admitted, “I thought—you wouldn’t notice…Thought I was stuck and—” his voice was small and terrified, “Thought I was gonna die.”

Bowser’s tears dropped onto his son’s head, and he just held his little one tight. “I’m sorry, son. I’m so sorry. I should have noticed sooner. When Kamek came and told me he couldn’t find you—” he choked at the memory of that icy, hollow feeling of dread. “You almost died and it would have been my fault. I never wanted anything to happen to you. I’m supposed to protect you.”

Morton cuddled his face into Bowser’s neck and inhaled the scent. He could still smell Luigi from when they’d hugged earlier. When that smell combined with Dad’s, he almost sobbed. It made him feel whole. Like the warm times blurred at the edge of memory. The days when he was held like this by two different scents. He could never remember their faces, only how wonderful and comforting that smell was. He closed his eyes. In the dark he could pretend and make it almost feel real. His heart ached to be reminded of the hole inside he usually ignored. He whimpered.

“Morton?” Bowser’s hand rubbed soothing circles on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Bowser made a small chirp of surprise when Morton’s face hid completely in his neck. Before long, he felt the wet chill of tears on his scales there. He frowned and nuzzled back, rumbling a low purr. The sobs didn’t seem to be stopping. He looked up to Kamek, only for his advisor and father figure to shrug. He brought his other hand up to help support Morton’s legs, while still soothingly rubbing the sobbing back.

“Dad,” Morton whispered, not even sure if the other was really listening, and without opening his eyes to find out. Today was already so much. He was so tired. He’d been through a lot, and he just wanted to remember for a little bit longer…

The koopaling had his father’s complete and undivided attention. Morton sounded so small. Instinct kicked in and his hands shifted to shield the little one from all outside eyes as best he could, including Kamek. The advisor didn’t seem too perturbed by it. Kamek was as concerned as he was. His purring stopped and he answered the whispered call with his own hushed words.

“Yes, Morton?”

There was a brush of scales as the little one changed positions to nuzzle him more before he got an answer.

“I really miss them.” Morton tensed as though expecting him to be angry. Bowser couldn’t stop his claws from tightening.

He wasn’t sure how, maybe it was the voice Morton had used, or pure intuition, but he knew exactly who ‘them’ meant. He and Kamek exchanged a meaningful glance over the koopaling’s shoulder.

“I know you do. They loved you so much, little star.”

Morton choked on a sob. Bowser patted him softly and called, “The castle please, Kamek.”

“Yes, your sensibleness!” Poof! They materialized in the throne room.

“I want everyone home.”

“Sire, Mario hasn’t even made it past the third outpost yet and—”

“I don’t care. Get my kids home safe.” He rumbled, stomping out before Kamek could so much as form reply. Only when he reached Peach’s door did he recall that he still had Morton. The kid’s sobs had given way to sleep. Good. Poor thing was probably exhausted, healing mushroom or no, Morton still needed rest. He should probably put his son to bed…but he knew that the second he did, he wouldn’t feel steady enough to let the koopaling out of his sight. Better get this over with. He knocked. There wasn’t an answer right away.

“Open the door, Peaches. We need to talk.”

He half expected her to shout back at him through the door, but instead, it creaked open. The blonde was wearing the same dress as earlier. She always refused to wear the clothes his seamstresses made for her.

“You’re right, King Bowser. We do.”

Weird. She didn’t usually bother with his title.

“I may not like you, but what I said earlier was out of line. I know you do care for your—” her blue eyes caught sight of the gray shape in his hand. They brightened with worry, then hardened when she realized he was watching her closely. After a brief moment to regain her composure, she asked, “Is he unharmed?”

Bowser couldn’t stop the growl that bubbled up from his chest. Smoke curled at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah. He got lucky. Be grateful I’m not going to burn your precious kingdom to the ground for this.” He was keeping his voice low, he didn’t want to wake Morton, but his anger was ready to explode.

“My kingdom was not responsible—”

“Mario’s a mushroom kingdom citizen, isn’t he?”

Her mouth closed and her eyes glittered. She was so…cold. Her ‘hero’ had nearly killed his child and she—Why did I like her again? He found himself thinking. The thought surprised him. She’s still pretty, he thought, yet another part of him pushed back on that. This defiance had been fun when nothing was at stake, when it was a cycle of low-stakes kidnapping and rescues and trying to impress her. It was like a fog had been lifted. Her hair was like spun gold, her eyes were big and bright and blue, her skin was perfect…and Bowser felt…nothing. His free claw snatched her by the arm and dragged her forward, with less care than usual.

“Hey! What are you—”

Once she was out of the doorway and in the hall, he shoved her backward. She fell flat on her backside, her skirts billowed around her. His red eyes narrowed. He knew that if he reached for her again, he’d have even less restraint, so instead he growled louder. Morton made a tiny chirp in his sleep and Bowser swallowed the sound. Her pupils dilated in fear. He puffed smoke.

“Get out of my kingdom.”

She stared, disbelieving. “You’re just letting me—”

“Go. And you tell your little red shortstack: the next time he dares cross my path, he’s dead.”

He was confused. The last outpost, where he’d expected to be met by one Bowser’s little mini-generals was abandoned. Now this one, too? What was the tartaruga playing at?

“Mario!”

He turned at his brother’s call. About time Weegee caught up! Now, at least, he had someone to discuss and strategize with. Any good spirit he might have had went out the window the moment he laid eyes on his twin. Panic gripped him. He rushed to accost Luigi halfway across the old throne room.

“Lu, what happened?! You were hurt? Why didn’t you say anything?!” At the end of the battle with the gray koopa, when his brother had hung back and insisted he’d catch up, Mario hadn’t thought twice. He knew Luigi hated loud noises, and that castle coming down had probably done a number on Lu’s nerves. He just thought he needed a breather. Now he was kicking himself. He never should have left Luigi alone!

“Mario, calmati, por favore,” Luigi urged.

“Calmati?! Calmati?!” Mario parroted frantically. “How can I be calm? You are covered in blood!”

One of Luigi’s sleeves was torn off and had been tied over the wound, which appeared to have oozed quite a bit, even after Lu had wrapped it with his handkerchief. Traces of blood lingered all the way down to where it stained the cuff of Lu’s gloves. How was he even standing?! Mario fretted. He was lucky he’d made it this far without further injury! Or collapsing!

“It’s just my arm, fratello,” the green one responded quickly, “The bleeding stopped hours ago.”

“Why didn’t you heal it?”

“We’re out of-a healing mushrooms. I—”

“Then let’s-a go find some!” before his brother could object, Mario bent over and hefted Luigi over his shoulder. Ignoring the resulting protests, he hastily made for the exit. Outside, he looked around. Luigi poked his shoulder.

“Mario, I looked-a the whole way here. You think I-a wanted you to-a panic like this?”

Huffing, Mario frowned.

“Fratello, put me down.”

“No,” he replied petulantly. Lu was hurt and he never should have left him in the first place. There was no way—

“Mario!”

Both their heads turned. Luigi took advantage of the moment to slide back down on his own to feet as the princess came rushing toward them.

“Principessa!” Mario cried, rushing to meet her, Luigi momentarily forgotten.

The younger twin rolled his eyes. Honestly, those two…He watched them embrace. Mario lifted her up and spun her around joyfully. He chuckled. Their faces turned red and they pulled away from each other, clearing their throats.

“So, you—you-a escaped!” Mario said, cheerfully, though terribly awkward.

“Um, actually, Bowser—” she picked at her gloves almost shyly.

They only had eyes for each other. Luigi was glad that his twin was no longer worried out of his mind over him, but he didn’t really like being a third wheel. He tried to think up something to say that might steer the conversation toward courtship that wouldn’t be a dead giveaway. Mario really needed to just ask her out already…they’d been dancing around each other for years at this point.

Mario, oblivious to his brother’s plotting, and still not fully convinced that she would even be interested in him, but hopelessly unable to hide how much he cared about her, was watching her movements closely. Her nervous pulling at her gloves was nothing new, but what did bother him was further up. That little spot between the top of her gloves and the sleeve of her dress was one of the few places her beautifully soft skin was exposed. Only, instead, it was dark blue and purple. He tenderly reached out and took her hand, holding out the arm so he could see.

“What-a happened-a here?”

Her sweet smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s fine. Please don’t trouble yourself.”

“Did Bowser do that?”

She tensed and that was answer enough as far as Mario was concerned. He cursed the evil turtle to hell and back again. He was a little surprised when her other hand squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”

“He hurt you! This-a cannot stand! I’ll—”

“No, Mario!” she cried, her hands bunching up his overalls and holding tight, even as he tried to separate them, intent on stomping into the dark lands. “Don’t! You can’t go anywhere near him right now!”

Luigi’s keen blue eyes narrowed. That was an odd choice of words. Too many things weren’t making sense. Bowser had never…ever…so much as harmed a hair on her head before now. So, why now? And why was she so desperate to hold his brother back? What could have changed?

“What do you-a mean ‘right now’?” Luigi asked.

She realized he was there for the first time, gasping at the sight of his arm.

“Luigi! You’re hurt!”

He waved that away. “What did you mean, principessa?”

“I—” the color left her face. She looked terrified. Both brothers tensed.

“Peach, are you alright?” Mario asked, reaching for her again. She threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. She was shaking so badly that he didn’t even enjoy that she was holding him close. He just wanted to help her, to fix whatever was wrong. “Principessa?”

“Mario,” her voice trembled a little, “Please promise me you won’t go after Bowser.”

Mario didn’t want to. If he promised that, he’d have to deliberately try his best to keep it, and he wanted to plant his fist in that overgrown turtle’s face.

“Please, Mario. I beg you.” Her face was ashen. “You mustn’t go anywhere near him. Not ever, but especially not now. It’s too dangerous.”

“Why?”

“T-the castle that collapsed,” she said, her voice shaking.

“How did you know about—”

“Morton almost died.” She finished, ignoring his interruption.

Mario’s mouth closed. Morton? Who? Oh. The gray koopa with a star on his face? He didn’t notice the way that Luigi knowingly tensed behind him.

Peach found her own terror reflected in Luigi’s eyes and felt a little stronger. Mario was stubborn, it was true, but now at least this fight would be two against one.

“He’s furious. He swore he’ll kill you if you ever cross paths with him again. So please, please,” she reiterated, “just stay away.”

“If he tries-a to kidnap you again, principessa—” Mario began, but Luigi interrupted him this time and the older twin was reminded that he needed to find some healing mushrooms or get his sibling to a doctor. The red hero’s chest tightened. The two most important people in this world to him were hurt and he was completely powerless! His fists curled.

“Mario…” Luigi entreated.

“Fine. Let’s just get you both to Doctor Toad,” he capitulated. At least that he could help do.

Chapter Text

A month sped past. Mario had tensely been following the princess to all her council meetings, public appearances and even her teatime. Bowser was overdue for an attack. It was only a matter of time. Now that the wretched ruler of the dark lands had shown his true colors and actually harmed her, Mario didn’t want to let her out of his sight for fear the koopa would do far worse. Mario was a nervous wreck.

In turn, Luigi was even jumpier than usual. Normally he was the only nervous one and his brother was the face of calm. No longer able to rely on Mario to steady him, Luigi had flung himself into his hobbies. He was helping with the replanting of the castle gardens. It was a welcome distraction that kept him within arm’s reach if Mario needed him. Here he was, the knees of his overalls streaked with dirt, tucking some tulip bulbs into their new homes, when…POP!

He shrieked as a little ball of blue light materialized beside him. A white object fluttered out and joined the bulbs in the dirt below. Luigi looked back up, but the blue light was gone. Strange. His fingers shook as he poked what appeared to be a plain envelope. Nothing. No strange spells or anything…yet. He picked it up and turned it over.

On the back, ‘Loo-ee-gee’ was scrawled in block letters. The handwriting was shaky and unpracticed, like a child’s. He turned it back over and opened it up. It was a single page bearing one line of text in that same rough print:

‘Tomorrow come to Dimble Woods. Don’t bring Mario. Wanna talk. Morton.’

Luigi blinked and reread it. Then he read again, just to be sure he’d read it correctly. He had no doubt in his mind that it was exactly what it appeared to be. Morton had written this. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about the kid. He’d been worried. From what Peach said about how furious Bowser was, Luigi wondered if Morton had gotten hurt on the way back to the kingdom. He sincerely hoped not. Watching the poor thing trying to walk back on a broken leg, with all those injuries—just remembering it made his stomach turn. No one should ever be put in that situation, but a kid? After all, that’s all Morton and the other koopalings were—kids trying their best to help their father. Even if they were doing bad things, Luigi knew how it felt to watch your parents struggling and want to do something about it. He read the note again. He wanted to go, but—

‘Don’t bring Mario.’

Easier said than done. His brother was like a hawk circling in the sky recently. Obsessively hovering over him and Peach in turn. He loved Mario dearly, but his twin wore his heart on his sleeve. Still, he might be able to convince his brother that Peach needed him more right now. Which left another problem. He had to invent a cover story. If he told his brother he was headed to Dimble Woods, the forest bordering the dark lands, there was no chance Mario would let him go alone. So, what to say? Hmm…

He was stewing over this when a loud voice made him jump.

“Hiya!”

He clutched his hand to his heart and frowned. “Daisy! One of these day’s you’ll give me a heart attack!”

“Hehe,” she giggled, “How goes dirt duty?”

“It’s fine.” He said, hurriedly brushing dirt over the letter and envelope before she could see. “Think you’ll have time for a game of tennis this afternoon?” he asked, casually. She smirked.

“Oh, so I can beat you again?”

“You wish!” he clapped back, smiling, his competitive streak making a rare appearance.

“I’m afraid I can’t. Haven’t you heard? Peachy’s called for some dinner and dancing.”

He hadn’t heard, but he wasn’t excited. He liked dancing fine, but Rosie and Daisy were visiting together and Peach and Mario were still doing their own kind of dance around their feelings. He sighed. “I think I’ll pass. You and Rosie have fun. Try and get my brother to make it an official double date, please?”

Daisy looked a little surprised, “They still aren’t dating yet?”

“You thought they were?”

“He’s following her everywhere!”

“That’s because he’s worried. He’s keeping me on a leash, too.”

“Aww, poor green bean!” she sympathized. Then her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Need an escape?”

Actually…he seized the opportunity. “Did you say you were leaving tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow morning’s the plan! Why? Need us to stay?”

He shook his head. “No, but…could you do me a favor?”

And so Luigi found himself in Dimble Woods the following morning. He’d told Daisy that he needed more grapple berries, which were partial to these woods. It was an easy enough excuse. He often used them in dyes for one of his lesser-known hobbies: clothes. He loved, loved, loved, designing his own clothing.

Daisy and Mario were the only ones who knew about it. He just wasn’t brave enough to put his work out there, even when they told him it was amazing. He didn’t really want much recognition anyway. He did it for fun and for his own comfort. If Peach or the toads or others complimented him on his attire, it always felt great. The fact they didn’t know he’d made it himself only made their words sweeter.

The only downside of pretending he’d been going to visit Daisy was that he wasn’t able to wear his normal travel clothes. He usually didn’t wear overalls unless he was working or traveling the kingdoms for heroic purposes. To avoid Mario’s suspicion, he’d decided on some flared jeans, and a fuzzy mint-green crew-neck sweater. When his sleeve got caught on some twigs for the third time, he regretted his choice. He was comfy and warm, but this was not a great environment for the fabric. He was sure he’d be trying to brush twigs, leaves and spiky seeds out of it for weeks.

What was he even doing? He wondered, pulling the note out of his pocket and looking down at it again. He’d been wandering down the path for nearly an hour, picking berries and putting them in his basket whenever he found good patches—because why not solidify his cover in case the truth got out later? He didn’t even know exactly where he was going and this place was huge. Sighing, Luigi ran his fingers through his curly hair. Yeah…he was starting to feel a little bit exposed without his hat.

“Luigi,” someone called.

His head shot up and he looked around. Who was—huh. He must have imagined it. He went to pick some more berries. When he pulled his hand away, he realized the bush was staring back at him. He flung the berries at them and screamed.

“Waaaaah!”

Snorting laughter rang out and then a gray koopa came stomping around the bush.

He caught his breath and crossed his arms. “Very funny, piccolo stella!”

“You shoulda seen your face!!!” Morton chuckled.

Luigi smirked, “At least my aim is good.”

“Huh?” Morton’s smile faded and his hand felt his face. He found the wetness and tried to wipe it away. Unfortunately, all that did was smear the deep green color across his snout.

It was Luigi’s turn to chuckle. He pulled out his handkerchief, licked it and gently cleaned the big koopaling’s face. He heard a rustling sound from somewhere nearby and looked around. No movement in sight, so what was—oh. Morton’s tail was wagging. Aw, he bit down on the urge to squeal. Koopas wag their tails? That’s so cute! Oh, but—was it like a dog style tail-wag? Or a cat style one? When his niece got a cat, he learned that they were different things. Hmm, he might have to spend some time figuring out.

“Ahem.”

Even though the unexpected call had Luigi jumping in his skin, he instinctively shouldered his way between Morton and the new voice. The voice sneered.

“You don’t have to protect him from me, human. I’m not likely to hurt my own brother,” said the other koopaling. He was perched on a low branch of a nearby tree. They’d met before, but they’d never spoken.

It was very hard not to shiver under the intense gaze the other had fixed him with. Despite the reassurance, Luigi stayed where he was. Behind him, he heard Morton mutter apologies. He turned around and looked the gray koopaling in the eyes. Vaguely, he was aware that he’d just turned his back on a potentially hostile presence, but he just had to trust that Morton wouldn’t let the other koopaling harm him.

“What are you apologizing for, piccolo?”

“Ludwig came with.” Morton grumbled, avoiding his eyes.

“Morton, look at me.” He waited until the kid did as he asked, then he smiled. “You don’t have to apologize for that. I’m sure your brother is just looking out for you.”

Morton smiled back and nodded emphatically. “Luddy is protective.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, human. It’s Ludwig to you,” said the blue-haired koopaling in the tree, still surveying them warily.

“Capiche, er, I mean, understood.” Luigi had the feeling that Ludwig didn’t really want to be here, but had come to keep a watchful eye, so he decided to pretend as best he could it was just him and the star-faced koopaling. “Now then, piccolo stella, I got your note!” he flashed the corner of it out of his pocket so Morton could see.

Morton’s tail started wagging again and the little one was smiling. So…maybe it was more a dog-style tail wag signaling happiness or excitement? Then Morton chirped. It wasn’t like the terrifyingly forlorn sounds from their last encounter, either. This was almost like a bird greeting the morning sun. Luigi smiled.

“What was it that you wanted to talk about, bambino?”

Suddenly, Morton’s posture closed. The koopaling fiddled nervously with his claws and avoided eye contact again.

“Morton?”

“Dad don’t know.”

“Doesn’t,” came a gentle correction from up in the tree. Luigi pretended as though it hadn’t happened.

“Did you get home safely? La principessa—uh, the princess-a said your father was-a furious, and I was afraid you got hurt on the way back.”

“No! Morton is fine! Morton was strong! Just had to walk for a looooooong time…”

Luigi smiled and ruffled the hairs on the kid’s head affectionately, quickly concealing his surprise when the koopa began to purr.

“You got a new shell!” Luigi gently started on a new topic of conversation, hoping the little one would latch on.

Morton nodded eagerly then said, “Yeah! It’s bigger! Because I grew lots!”

“Very good, principe! Someday you will be as big as your Papa!” he felt a little guilty when the smile on Morton’s face faded a little. He felt a tingle shoot up his spine and a quick check showed that the other koopaling was glaring at him. Had he said something wrong?

“Um…” Morton growled and kicked at the dirt in frustration. “Morton is not very good with words. I try, but…always get it wrong. Talking was bad idea. Just—last time you talked to me and—it was good.”

“Hey,” he took the kid by the shoulders. “Speaking is just easier for some than it is for others, piccolo. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. That’s all you wanted? To talk some more?”

Morton nodded. Luigi beamed. What a sweet child…he felt honored Morton felt comfortable enough to speak with him and was impressed with the koopaling’s bravery. Were their situations reversed, he doubted he’d have had the courage to ask his enemy’s brother to come visit with him.

“Well, as I’m sure you noticed, I was picking grapple berries earlier. Do you mind if I do that while we talk?”

“Can Morton help?”

Luigi’s heart melted at the soft, almost whispered question. He petted Morton’s head again.

“Of course you can, piccolo!”

For a few silent minutes, they just picked berries, then Luigi decided to try and start the conversation back up again. “It’s been very quiet in the Mushroom Kingdom this month. I’m glad your invitation arrived, piccolo stella. It’s a relief to have a little time away from Mario.”

Morton’s handful of berries fell on the ground instead of into the basket.

“Huh? But Mario is your brother?”

“Si, but he’s been very worried. He doesn’t like it when-a nothing’s going on. It makes him-a nervous. When he’s-a not with the principessa, he’s always-a over my shoulder. He thinks-a something will-a happen if he’s-a not around to protect me.”

“That’s what Luddy always thinks, too.” An offended sound came from the tree. “But you said it was a good thing.”

“It can be. It is good for brothers and-a sisters to look out for each other, but when I-a wake up in the morning, Mario watches-a me make breakfast, then he-a insists on escorting me to the market or the castle, or wherever I am-a going, even if I-a already know how to get there! Even-a if he knows there are guards and that I will be safe!”

“Older brothers think they’re the boss.”

“Hey!” came another sharp scold from the tree. It made Luigi smile. Clearly the older koopaling did care a lot for his younger brother.

“Morton, can you-a keep a secret?” he asked, over-dramatically leaning in, with a playful look in his eyes.

The koopaling nodded enthusiastically. Luigi pretended not to notice that the one in the tree was listening closely. He didn’t bother to lower his voice that much as he spoke.

“Mario is-a only older by 6 minutes!”

Morton was visibly both shocked and confused. His head tilted to one side. “Huh?”

“We’re twins.”

“Oh. The different kind. Like Iggy and Lemmy.”

“Morton!” the voice from the tree hissed, “He’s still the enemy!”

Morton’s fists tightened. Luigi bit his lip and floundered for something to say, but surprisingly Morton beat him to it.

“I wish you didn’t have to be,” he said softly.

“I understand, Morton. I’d-a rather be friends.” He resumed picking berries and Morton soon joined him. The silence was companionable.

“You are Morton’s friend.”

“Thank you, principe. That’s quite an honor.” He chanced another quick look at Ludwig. The elder koopaling’s expression was inscrutable, so he turned back to the berries.

“Luigi?”

“Si, piccolo?”

“Do you have parents?”

Luigi had been reaching for some berries, but it fell away at the unexpected question. He answered a bit cryptically.

“I did.”

“Are they dead?”

He flinched. His eyes closed. His mother’s sweet, smiling face swimming before his mind’s eye.

“No, that is—I don’t know,” he confessed. Sensing their eyes on him, he explained, “Mario and I fell here through a warp pipe. For a while, we went back and forth between worlds to see our entire family: our parents, uncles, cousins and Nonno—our grandfather.”

“What happened?”

The pain resurfaced. He grimaced. “The pipe was destroyed. We looked everywhere trying to find another way back, but—” he stopped there, his throat feeling tight.

“You miss them.” It was a statement. Luigi suddenly remembered that Morton had mentioned being adopted. Pieces clicked into place.

“What happened to-a your parents, piccolo?” he watched Morton’s face closely. This topic might be too distressing, so if he needed to change it—

“I don’t know,” Morton’s shoulders started to shake, “I think—I think it was something bad. Dad doesn’t talk about it. I can’t remember. I was…too small. Barely remember…”

“And Bowser took you in?”

Morton nodded again, “Kamek says my real dad was king dad’s distant cousin, and he was the closest relative, so he had to take me under Koopa law, like Luddy.”

Luigi felt sure that Ludwig was not  pleased with Morton telling him all of that, but it cleared a few things up. He wondered aloud, “And your other brothers and sisters are distant relatives too?”

“No, just me and Luddy. Dad is just…good. He took them in, just like us. When he and Ma had Junior,” he paused just long enough that Luigi asked.

“Ma? Junior’s mother?”

Morton bit his lip and nodded, unable to hide the tears that sprung up in his eyes.

He wasn’t sure what role he’d expected Junior’s mother to play in the story, but Luigi hadn’t realized she’d been surrogate mother to all the koopalings…he had a terrible growing sinking feeling in his heart. Morton was still sniffling. He stepped forward, wrapped his arms around the stocky gray koopa and hugged tight.

“It’s okay, principe. You don’t-a have to talk about it if it hurts.”

“W-when Dad and Ma had j-Junior, w-we were scared that maybe—maybe they wouldn’t want us no more.”

“Oh, piccolo,” Luigi hugged even tighter, only pulling away to wipe away those tears with his handkerchief.

“B-but J-junior hatched and she—m-ma got sick…”

Oh no, Luigi could feel tears on his own cheeks now, his heart breaking for the little ones and even for Bowser. He never even imagined the Koopa King had lost a partner. And—the koopas were some of the most magical creatures in this entire world. What kind of terrible disease—

“J-junior got it too, and—and Kamek said they were dying, b-but Junior didn’t die.”

Dio, Bowser was the strongest person he’d ever met in his entire life. Luigi could hardly imagine going through all of that and still being able to smile.

“I miss Ma. And I miss my parents,” Morton said softly, bending down to rub his face into Luigi’s sweater. The human let him and he trilled gratefully. Soft hands, with no gloves this time, were rubbing his head and his shell, soothingly. His lip trembled as he added, “I miss them so much.”

“I miss mine too, piccolo. Every day.”

“It hurts.”

“I know,” Luigi whispered, wishing there was more he could offer. “It will get better. With love and time, Morton, it always gets better.”

“B-been thinking about them a lot.”

“You saw death’s face in that castle last month. It very normal to be thinking about your loved ones after something like that.”

“You were right. When I got back, Dad was croaking all alone in the lava fields.”

Luigi didn’t have to know exactly what that entailed to understand. He smiled as the koopaling’s face rubbed his neck and heavily inhaled. Good. Deep breaths were good. He petted Morton’s head, thanking the fates that he’d been able to make it today. This little one had badly needed this talk. Some might argue he should have been telling all this to his family, but Luigi knew better. Sometimes family were the only people you felt you couldn’t go to for things like this. Morton needed a friend.

A chirp very close by, but not from Morton make Luigi tense. Morton pulled away and looked around. Ludwig was down on the ground. Luigi worked extremely hard to keep every muscle in his body perfectly still. Ludwig’s face was grave, but not hostile. Morton answered in a kind of low clicking, then rubbed his jaw on Luigi’s face again with a little shiver.

“L-Luigi? Wanted to meet here to tell you…” he struggled. Luigi just continued to softly hold him and waited patiently. “T-thank you for saving me.”

“You’re very welcome, piccolo stella.”

“He saved you?” came a soft question. Ludwig’s voice had real emotion in it. Luigi saw an uncertain question in Morton’s eyes and nodded.

“I was trapped. Luigi got me out. W-we almost got crushed trying to escape…he even got hurt. My leg was broke.”

“You healed him?” Ludwig’s question was for Luigi this time. Instead of answering, the plumber just nodded. “Why? He’s the son of your enemy!”

Luigi’s mustached lip curled and he made a sound that was close enough to a growl that both koopalings’ faces became nervous.

“Enemies,” the human cursed in italian, then went on, “Enemy is just—il vocabolo—a word. A stupid word, a label for a person you fight or you are at odds with, but they’re still people! Morton needed help. I couldn’t just—” Luigi realized that he was yelling at children who hadn’t really been picking a fight with him, and his ire cooled, “I had to do something.”

He shouldn’t have gotten worked up, he knew. It’s just that he and Mario’d had this argument so many times, nearly every time the princess even started to entertain talk of peace, and every time his brother had been proved right. Not this time, though. This time he knew he’d done the right thing.

All three of them stayed there silently in the cool forest shade. Luigi noticed that the tree’s shadows were quite long. Hmm. He had maybe another hour before he had to start the journey home. He pointed that out to the bambini. Morton hummed. Ludwig had started watching him with interest rather than suspicion, which Luigi supposed was the best he could hope for. He went over to his basket and took a look. That should be enough for a couple bottles of concentrated dye, but he could probably do with some more. He strayed a few paces away from the bambini to a bush bursting with berries and started gathering more.

Morton sat down, cross-legged and watched. Ludwig went and sat beside him. Pretty soon they were conversing almost entirely in clicks, warbles, and chirps. So, it was more than just emotional expression, it was their language. They kept sneaking furtive glances at him, which made Luigi blush a little as he wondered what they were saying about him.

When Morton snorted a laugh, he turned to them with a suspicious smile.

“What are you two saying about me?”

“Luddy says you must really like berries a lot, even though they taste like Kamek’s medicine!”

Luigi chuckled softly, noticing that the older koopaling’s face was a little red.

“Actually, bambini, they’re not for eating. I use them to make dyes.”

“What are dyes? Do you kill things with them?” Morton asked.

“He means like ink. For turning things colors.” Ludwig helpfully supplied.

“Oh. What do you use the colors for?”

Luigi blushed again and looked at the ground. “Uhm…well, it’s-a sort of a secret hobby of mine. Mario and-a Daisy are the only ones who know about it.”

“Morton can keep secrets.”

“I design clothes. Like-a sweaters and…and-a dresses.”

“For princesses?” Morton asked.

His face feeling hot, he stared at the basket. “For me, piccolo. I—I-a like dresses very much.”

“How come you don’t wear any?”

“I do…at home in-a Toad Town. B-but I don’t usually wear them other places. Back where I come from, some people don’t like it when people like me wear dresses.”

Morton’s face scrunched up, then cleared a little and he remarked, “Is it cuz they think only princesses can wear dresses?”

Luigi’s eyes were cloudy, “Something like that, piccolo.”

“Well, that’s dumb. You’re just as good as any princess, so you can wear whatever you want.”

“You won’t mind being friends with someone who wears dresses, piccolo stella?” Luigi asked, more teasing than serious. His ears burned a little at being called as good as a princess.

“No! You don’t mind being friends with me, and I have a birthmark!” Morton proclaimed, as though these were two equal circumstances.

His confusion was evident, apparently, because Ludwig explained it to him.

“Birthmarks were sometimes considered bad omens. Especially if they have distinct shapes or appear on very noticeable parts of the body. Though, it’s mostly outdated superstition.”

“Oh.” That reminded him, there was something else he’d been meaning to ask about, “Morton, how did you send me this letter?” he motioned to it, “I wasn’t even at home. It just appeared in a flash of light!”

Morton looked at Ludwig. “Morton had help.”

“He practically begged me to do it,” Ludwig rolled his eyes, “He’s lucky I like him.”

Luigi smiled, recognizing the teenage indifference for what it was.

“Are there any of your siblings you dislike, piccolo?” he asked the blue haired koopa. Ludwig frowned.

“Some are more annoying than others.”

“Morton not annoying. Morton is helpful,” said Morton.

“Why do you keep calling us tiny flutes?” Ludwig asked.

“Hmm? Oh. Piccolo.” Luigi smiled, “The tiny flute is-a called a piccolo because it means-a ‘little one’ in Italian.”

“Is that the human language?” Ludwig reminded him very much of Cousin Arthur when he was younger. The smartest kid in the family…always asking questions. “Humans have-a many different languages. Italian is only one of them.”

“So, it’s the language of your people?”

“Si, uh, yes.”

“Is there music in Italia?”

Luigi laughed, “In english, the country is called-a Italy. And-a music is everywhere, Ludwig! Italians have-a beautiful music, just-a like everyone!”

“What kind of instruments do they play?” interest had turned to rapt fascination and Luigi knew that he had inadvertently stumbled upon a topic that meant the world to this koopa. Hmm.

“Well, it is starting to get quite late, bambini. I must leave soon if I am to get home before Mario comes-a to find me. Send me another letter, and when we meet here again. I’ll see if I can bring some music, or maybe an instrument with me, si?”

Ludwig’s face turned skeptical. “You mean that?”

He nodded seriously, “Si, I do.”

“Luigi?”

“Si, Morton?”

“You can wear a dress if you want to.”

He didn’t do very well at hiding how happy it made him to be so welcomed and seen. Morton was beaming back at him.

“Thank you, piccolo stella. I will think about it.” He petted the gray koopa on the head before pulling Morton into a hug and nuzzling gently the way the koopa had done to him. Morton purred and that little spiked tail wagged happily. When he pulled away, he turned to Ludwig. He wasn’t exactly sure how to say farewell to the elder koopaling. Morton was a very physically affectionate kid, but Ludwig, who struck him more as a teenager, likely didn’t want or feel comfortable enough with him yet for that. He settled for putting a hand on Ludwig’s shoulder and squeezing. “Take good care of your brother.”

“I—”

Ludwig seemed a little taken aback, but Luigi wasn’t really sure why.

Ludwig’s voice failed him when that human had looked him in the eyes. Luigi, like Princess Peach and Mario, the only other humans he’d ever seen up close, had big expressive blue eyes. Only Luigi’s felt bluer and more intense than Mario’s and even Peach’s. But that wasn’t what had stopped him mid-sentence. What stopped him was the sheer volume of genuine care in Luigi’s eyes. The only ones who’d ever looked at him that way were his Dad and Kamek—and—

He'd already been thinking about them because of all the things Morton had been saying earlier. He’d stayed quiet, but inwardly, he almost wished he hadn’t. He wasn’t an idiot. Morton could have gone to Iggy, or even Roy for help with the simple teleportation spell he’d used on the letter. But Morton had come to him. And Morton almost never asked him for anything. The longer his brother had talked to Luigi, the more convinced Ludwig had become that Morton had come to him for help because his brother felt the others wouldn’t understand. Which was very astute. They wouldn’t. He and Morton were the only ones with real memories of their birth parents. Morton’s was sense-memory, but still…

Ludwig remembered much more than that. He was eight when his parents died. Bowser had done his best. Ludwig knew that. He appreciated Dad for everything he’d done and still did, but when Bowser took him in, the King was twenty and unmarried, with no idea how to raise a child. With Kamek’s help, Ludwig had come out fine, but still haunted by the tragedy of loss. When Bowser married, he had a real family unit again. His wounds had finally begun to mend…then Ma died and it tore his heart wide open afresh. He was seventeen now. Koopas weren’t considered fully mature until age 22, so he was still just a koopaling, but he’d long since given up hope of anyone else ever looking at him like this again.

And now here was Luigi, laying a warm hand on his shoulder and staring at him with the eyes of a loving family figure. It shocked Ludwig a little how badly he wanted that. He wanted Luigi to come back and talk with them again. Not just with Morton, but with him. About music and Italian and the human world…he’d like that. He’d like it very much. As for taking care of Morton…he’d gotten a little more distant with his brothers and sisters over the past few years, but even so, he always tried to keep a watchful eye over them.

“I’ll watch over him.”

A flicker of understanding lit Luigi’s eyes and he became stern, “And don’t forget to take care of yourself, too.”

“I—” he had no idea how Luigi had known or guessed that he had a tendency to overdo things, but he just nodded.

“Good.” Luigi’s hand darted up to pat his cheek, then the human turned and waved goodbye before disappearing into the trees.

Ludwig could feel Morton’s eyes on him, but he needed a moment to compose himself.

“Luddy feels it too.” For someone who struggled with them, Morton had a real way with words. “Luigi is…good. Like Dad.”

The comparison to their father made him frown a little at first, but he supposed that essentially, Morton was right. Ludwig decided to test his suspicions.

“You could have gone to one of the others.”

Morton shook his head. “You know why Morton didn’t.”

“Yeah.”

“Luddy…keep secret?”

“I won’t tell Dad or Kamek, if that’s what you mean,” he murmured, still trying to come to terms with the fact that Luigi had somehow earned his trust in less than half a day.

“No tell others. Don’t,” Morton corrected himself this time.

“I won’t.”

Chapter Text

Usually, Ludwig wrote best at night. It was tranquil enough that he could breathe more easily. In the latest hours, the music could envelop him and he allowed himself to be swallowed by it. Tonight, however, his fingers rested unmoving on the keys. His mind was sticking. This was the third time this week. Why couldn’t he just play something? Anything…

Every time he started to, however, it didn’t feel right. He’d tried to practice at least half a dozen pieces, and his fingers had just stopped midway through. He ran his scales for the fourteenth time as he tried to figure out what was the matter with him. Why did this keep happening?

He sighed and cast his mind back. The first time it happened was Thursday evening. He’d tried to practice Clair de lune, but got no further than the opening notes. It had just sounded wrong somehow. Even though he’d played the right notes in the right order with the proper rhythm, it just felt wrong. So he tried something different. Only Chopin’s nocturne number 8 wasn’t right either. Eventually, he’d given up and gone to bed. Maybe he should just give up again.

But he stayed seated on the bench staring down at his hands. He wanted to play something. He just didn’t know what. He sighed and absently picked at random notes. Usually, when he had moods like this, he ended up writing something of his own, only—he felt conflicted. Something inside him was resisting. He didn’t fully understand what he was feeling, and if he poured these conflicted emotions into his music, he wasn’t entirely sure what would happen. He felt so overwhelmed…but he had to do something he needed to get it out. It needed to leave him so he could return peacefully to rest. He picked up his wand and gave it a flick. The end glowed and it floated out of his hand, his music notebook opening on its own to a fresh page. He considered and tried a few chords in a major key, only to grimace and change to a minor one. Better. He shifted his position to the left toward the lower notes and tried a few. Yes. Much better.

He’d been at it for several hours and finally felt he was getting somewhere when there was a heavy knock on the door. Ludwig kept playing. He almost had it now. He just wanted to repeat the motif from the opening and adjust the final note to—yes. Just like that. Perfect.

He turned back to the start of the song in his notebook and began to play it through from the beginning. He was so wrapt with his own creation he didn’t even hear the door.

“Ludwig, it’s time for bed.”

“Just a minute.”

“Ludwig,” his father warned.

“Dad, I’m already finished. Let me just,” he started again, since talking made it hard to keep track of his place.

Bowser sighed and went over to watch. Ludwig usually hated that, but tonight the koopaling was completely absorbed. He sighed. “You’ve been here since before lunchtime. Have you eaten today?”

He might as well have said nothing. So instead of fighting that losing battle he stopped to listen. The rich, low tones that swelled beneath the melodies vibrated through him.

“Haven’t heard this one before.”

“It’s mine,” Ludwig answered easily during a quarter rest, quickly picking up where he’d left off.

“Sounds sad,” Bowser observed. He didn’t mean anything by it, but when Ludwig’s hands froze over the keys, he felt guilty for some reason.

Yes…it was sad. That was just it. How come Ludwig hadn’t been able to figure that out earlier? All those other things hadn’t sounded right because they weren’t. They had too many swells of hope and beauty and promise. He hadn’t wanted that. He wanted dark and brooding and pained because…because he couldn’t stop thinking about Wednesday and the things Luigi had said and—his parents.

“Ludwig?” His dad asked, laying a hand on his shoulder and fixing him with a questioning stare.

“I—I’m sorry.” He stood up and slid down the key cover. “I can’t…”

His dad’s grip tightened encouragingly.

“Let’s go down to the kitchens and get you some food, we can talk.”

“No.” He answered too fast. Bowser was frowning at him. “Really, it’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

He couldn’t remember. He tried to, but—

“Then we’re going to the kitchens. Come on. Climb up.”

“I’m not a hatchling anymore, Dad. I can walk.” He grumbled, grabbing his wand and tucking it safely away in shell before turning to leave. He made an affronted grunt when his father hefted him up over one shoulder. “Da~ad…” he groaned, but didn’t bother to try struggling. There was no point.

A few minutes later he was deposited on the kitchen bench. The staff had long since retired for the night, so Bowser went to rustle up some sandwiches while Ludwig sat there silently. He was remembering a picnic on a drizzly summer day when he was seven less than a year before the—

“Hey, calling Mr. Ludwig von Koopa.”

Dad’s enormous claw was waving in front of his face. He jumped.

“Whoa, easy—it’s just me, remember?” Bowser said, shoulders falling. “Ludwig, are you sure you’re—“

“Sorry. I was thinking about my music.” He suspected Bowser knew he was lying, but he tried to play it off, “What were you saying?”

“Asked you to help with these,” Bowser grumbled, motioning to a few different cuts of cooked meat and a knife. “Need slices.”

He took out his wand and concentrated on the task to be completed. The knife floated over to the first tray and began cutting thin, if not quite even slices. Bowser smiled and preened.

“You’re getting very good at that stuff. Soon you’ll be able to square off with your Grandpa.”

Ludwig sincerely doubted he’d ever be able to do that, but he enjoyed Dad’s praise all the same. He managed a little smile, then settled to watch the knife slicing the cooked flesh.

“Luddy…I know you’re older and you probably don’t want me sticking my snout in your business, but I can still tell when something’s bothering you. So whatever’s wrong—“

“Nothing’s wrong.” He narrowed his eyes. The knife’s slicing sped up. Dad just kept going.

“If you ever want to talk about it—“

“I don’t want to talk about it!” His raised voice surprised even him, but not half badly as the floating knife that turned in midair and suddenly came flying towards him. Faster than a whip, dad’s body barreled him out of the way, arms wrapped around him like a living shield.

When dad took a step back again, Ludwig eyes quickly found the kitchen knife embedded in the wall. His eyes widened with terror. Bowser was darkly glowering.

“I—I didn’t mean to…Dad, I,” blood was trickling down the scales below dad’s elbow. He’d—It was his fault.

“Luddy…”

His eyes blurred with tears. He hurt dad. He could have killed him! He hadn’t meant to, but—

“Luddy, it’s okay. It’s okay, come on, deep breaths.”

He shook his head. “Dad,” he couldn’t keep the sobs back for long, “you’re bleeding.”

Bowser seemed surprised, then looked down at his arms and snorted. “What, this? Papercut.”

“Dad…” he curled in on himself, “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Bowser awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck looking a little sheepish. “This one’s on me, anyway. Should have known better than to annoy you while sharp objects were in use.”

“Why are you forgiving me?” He asked, confused. “I almost…”

“You almost sent that knife into yourself, Ludwig.” All pretense of a lighthearted air evaporated. Bowser’s expression was grim. “You could have been seriously hurt.”

“But instead it hurt you!” The tears were threatening to fall again. “You should be shouting at me! Or grounding me for a month, or—“

“Why? Do you want me to?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Then, let me get this scrape cleaned up and I’ll finish those sandwiches.” Bowser ran a cleaning cloth under some cold water and cleaned the area around the cut, which had already finished bleeding. “Soon we can sit down and eat—“

“I told you I’m not hungry,” his lips curled and his anger came bursting out again, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?!”

They held each other’s gazes until Bowser’s eyebrows rose from their scowl. Ludwig turned his back on the king to avoid that look.

“Ludwig, I just wanted you to know that if you need me, I’m—“

“You can’t help me. N-no one can.”

A huge clawed hand curled over his shoulder. “You’re not alone in this. Whatever’s going on…”

“Who am I?”

The silent kitchen suddenly felt as dead as a cemetery.

“What do you mean? You’re my son.”

“But I’m not your son!” He shouted, then covered his mouth with his hands.

Bowser’s red eyes were wider than Ludwig had ever seen before. The king’s body was rigid for a long time before finally seeming to unfreeze.

“Go on.”

“No, I—“

“Ludwig, just let it out.”

“I,” he swallowed. What was he thinking? It wasn’t as if he’d never felt this way before, but how could he just say something like that to dad’s face?! Bowser may not have been perfect, but…

“Ludwig, please…talk to me.”

He closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was speaking to an empty room.

“I’m your son, but I’m not really your son. A prince, but not actually a prince. The only reason I’m anything is because of you. I’m told how to behave as your son, how to act as your son, how I should feel as your son. And I do—I’ll always be grateful you took me in, but I’m not sure that’s who I really am.” Ludwig struggled to find the words for what he’d been feeling. “I want to be, but then I remember and I feel like I’m pretending to be something I’m not. I remember how my mother used to hold me during thunderstorms and that father always hated having to travel by kart, so she’d always drive. I thought I’d always remember them that way, but I’ve been remembering other things too. Things I didn’t really understand back then.”

Bowser’s jaw tightened with concern and he started to reach out, but stopped short. He wasn’t sure Ludwig would welcome that kind of support right now. He stayed silent and still.

“I used to play as loud as I could to drown out them fighting over sending me to music classes. There were lots of arguments like that. Over what I should do, what I should learn, the kind of examples they set…I don’t know how I forgot all of that, but I think I missed them so much, I’d blotted out all the bad and left only the good. But they were both. So…what am I? Who am I? I don’t even know anymore. I’m not even sure I ever really did!” He couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.

“Luddy,” Bowser opened his arms wide. “Come here.”

To the king’s relief, the teenager accepted the embrace and he held on tight. He softly purred, trying to soothe those sobs a little before he bent down and spoke softly into Ludwig’s ear.

“You’re a bit of both. Just like them, just like me, just like everybody else. It’s important to appreciate that everyone has faults and weaknesses. And just because they had fights over your best interests doesn’t mean they were bad people. They loved you, kiddo. More than anything.”

“I—I know.”

“Luddy…” Bowser gulped. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now, but there just never seemed to be a time…”

“Dad?” He asked when Bowser pulled away from the hug.

“Do you—do you remember the accident?”

His tears were back. He’d never quite escaped the nightmares, but his memory was still hazy. Severe trauma to his left ear had rendered him nearly deaf on that side and he’d broken several bones.

“Not really. I remember the crash and how bad it hurt.”

“When I got to the hospital, your father was still alive, but he was,” Bowser swallowed again, “he’d lost too much blood and his injuries were too severe to…”

“I understand.”

“No, there’s more. When I told him that you were going to live, he begged me to take you.”

“But you had to take me. Under koopa law.”

“Your mother had a sister. Rul-“

“Aunt Rulta.” It was like a switch had been flipped deep in his brain. He shuddered. Aunt Rulta had never been kind to him. “She used to hurt me. She’d pinch me or push me over. And she always told them I was just clumsy but dad didn’t believe her. He believed me.” He didn’t even know where all of this was coming from. It was just rattling out of his mouth so naturally. Stunned, he turned to Bowser with fearful eyes. “I don’t know how I forgot that.”

Bowser hugged him again. “It happens when we don’t want or need the knowledge anymore.”

“Dad, I don’t understand. If I should have gone to Aunt Rulta…”

The king grimaced.

“I used my royal authority to claim guardianship.” At Ludwig’s shocked stare, he lowered his eyes. “It was a blatant abuse of power and I’m not proud of it. But with his dying breath your father made me swear that I would take you in and raise you as my own. He was my cousin and my best friend. So, I promised him I’d try. Even if that didn’t amount to very much, I did my best.” Sighing, the king stepped back and tilted Ludwig’s chin up with a single claw. “You know, there’s an old saying Kamek always told me when I was small and I missed my parents: Even when they’re gone, they live in the memories of everyone who loved them. Sappy, I know.” He threw up his hands, then smiled, “But it’s also true.”

Ludiwg was confused when Bowser’s smile fell and the single claw returned to trace his cheek.

“And there was one other one: all we’ve ever lost lives on in us.”

“Is that one true, too?” He asked, quietly.

Bowser shrugged and turned away, chuckling. It was high time he finish those sandwiches. “Suppose it must be.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I see your father every time you smile.”

Ludwig’s heart soared. Bowser finished the two simple sandwiches, plopped them onto a couple of plates and held one out, which Ludwig, thankfully, took.

What a relief. Honestly, this kid had been running himself ragged lately, Bowser thought. And trying to deal with all of that on his own…Ludwig reminded him a lot of himself at that age. He sighed. When the rest became teenagers he’d be done for. Three was already hard enough. And he wasn’t counting the twins. They were still only thirteen.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Bowser took a bit and hummed thoughtfully. “Needs spicy mustard.”

Ludwig rolled his eyes when the giant koopa king vanished into the pantry and decided he’d just go ahead and take his impromptu dinner back to his room.

“Goodnight,” He called as he headed for the door.

Bowser’s head poked back out of the pantry, “One last thing, kid. No matter who you choose to be, I love ya.” Then he disappeared back into the pantry.

Ludwig returned to his room, ate his sandwich and settled into bed feeling a kind of peace he’d never really known before.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, in the Mushroom kingdom, Mario was quite possibly losing his mind. There had been no moves from Bowser at all. Nothing. Not even so much as a murmur. Not only had the koopa king not been trying to kidnap any princesses, but as far as anyone could tell, Bowser hadn’t even set foot outside the dark lands since the last kidnapping incident. And in the meantime, Mario, a hero with no villain to counterbalance him, was going stir crazy.

Peach was a very understanding person, but even her legendary patience had finally worn thin. So, she decided to put her foot down.

“Mario,” she called sternly as he began his rigorous triple-check of the tea garden that afternoon. “Mario, please. Let’s just sit down and have some tea.”

“I have to make sure it’s safe, principessa.”

He went to check the shrubbery for a third time and her tolerance finally broke. She circumvented him and shoved him down into a comfy outdoor chair.

“Hey! What are you,” he stopped when he saw that she was angry with him. His eyes softened and he reflexively took off his hat to have something to fiddle with.

How was he allowed to look so cute when she was supposed to be angry at him?! Urgh! She narrowed her eyes, trying not to let her feelings get in the way too much. This talk was long overdue.

“Mario, you’re nervous. I understand. I really do, but you can’t keep doing this! You’re driving everyone around you, including me, to distraction! It isn’t helping anything, and all this tension is only making things worse instead of better. Enough is enough! You’ve been completely obsessing over where I am and what I’m doing every second of the day! How am I supposed to live my life—heck, do my job as a princess?! You used to think I was capable and that I could take care of myself. You trusted me to call when I needed you. Now it’s like you aren’t even giving me that choice…” she started to turn away but was surprised when one of his gloved hands gently took hers. He still had his hat off and the wind rustled his hair. She reluctantly looked down into his eyes and was surprised to find genuine remorse in them.

“Imma sorry, principessa. I still think you’re-a capable and-a strong. You run this place all by-a yourself! You’re one of the strongest people I know. I just,” he cursed under his breath in Italian and his eyes had a far away look to them, “I just wish I knew what that blasted tartaruga was up to! I don’t want him to-a hurt you ever again!”

“Mario…”

“I won’t let him!”

“Mario,” she repeated, more sternly. “I know that you’re trying to protect me, but the obsessive behavior has to stop. You need to trust that I can take care of myself.”

“I do.” He said it so fast and with such certainty, that she was momentarily taken aback. He sighed. “I get carried away when the people I lo—like are in danger,” his face was turning red, so he tried to hide by looking away. “I was probably doing it to Weegee too…”

“You were.” She confirmed. “I think he took that little day trip with Daisy just to get away from you.”

Mario’s eyes widened and he clutched his hat again, tighter this time.

“You owe him an apology too.”

“You’re right! You’re right…” he sighed, leaning back until he fell into the cushy lawn chair again and stared at the sky. “When you came back from Bowser’s castle with that bruise, and Luigi was hurt, principessa—You two are all I have left, and—and I guess I-a panicked…”

“Gee, you don’t say.” She said softly, rolling her eyes and motioning him to move over in the deep, plush chair. He raised an eyebrow but obeyed, only to splutter and blush as she joined him. They looked up at the blue sky together, shoulder to shoulder.

“I hate-a seeing either of you in pain. I don’t ever want you getting hurt!”

“Pain is an important part of life, Mario. When I was a kid, not too long after I became princess, I saw a little toad get hurt falling off a bouncy mushroom. So, I outlawed bouncy mushrooms and had them all removed.”

“Didn’t they just-a grow back?” he asked, looking at her beautiful face and blushing a little from the close proximity.

“Let me finish. All the toad children were angry at me, furious, even, because I’d taken away something they loved. They refused to play with me for a whole year until the bouncy shrooms grew back.” She looked at him. “If you keep doing this, you’re gonna end up all alone just like I did. No one will want to be around you and in the end the people you’ll be hurting the most are the ones you’re trying to protect.”

“I—I never thought of it like that.”

“Seriously, Mario. No more excuses.”

“Capiche, principessa. I’ll-a be better. Starting now.”

“Good.”

“Would-a you like me to-a leave you alone to enjoy-a your tea?”

“Not yet.” She pointed to a cloud off to their left, “what do you think that one looks like?”

Mario’s eyes sparkled as he stared slack-jawed at her beautiful face. She…she was really giving him another chance…most people wouldn’t have bothered. He’d have understood if she’d wanted nothing to do with him after the way he’d been acting, but she still wanted him to be her friend. She was so wonderful. He bit his lip, and his jaw tightened. His eyes sparkled with fiery determination. He’d be better. He’d do whatever it took to beat this thing. But—even he, a hero, could recognize that he couldn’t do this alone. He needed to be sure that he didn’t slip back into old habits.

“Gimme a code word.”

“What?” She asked, confused.

“Like-a to use whenever I-a start acting too overprotective. So, you can tell me off and I can-a make sure I don’t start doing it again.”

“Oh. Um, what kind of word?”

“Something you-a wouldn’t normally say. That way I know you’re-a talkin’ to me.”

“Hmm. How about…” she looked to the sky for help. The clouds weren’t particularly obliging. There was a turnip and a mushroom and a squid. Hmm. Those were all words she might use at any given time under the right context. Then a thought occurred. “What’s the word for squid in Italian?”

“Calamari,” he answered, automatically, then turned to her confused.

“Well, how's that for a code word? Calamari! Ooh! It’s fun to say!”

He nudged her shoulder playfully and chuckled. “Don’t start-a saying it now! You’re supposed to use it only when I’m obsessing too much!”

“Oh, alright,” she relented. Her eyes lit up as new clouds floated into view. “Ooh! That one looks like Prince Florian!”

Mario laughed some more.

When he got home, Luigi was bent over the sewing machine. It rattled as it went. After they’d made up their minds they were moving here permanently, the first thing Luigi had done back in Brooklyn was clean out his savings by buying a treadle sewing machine. This place was great, but unfortunately the magical equivalent of power outlets weren’t always reliable, and Luigi didn’t want to have to sew all his garments by hand. Of course, since the pipes were only so big in diameter, they’d had to separately lug the machine and the pieces of the treadle mechanism that would be mounted below, and Luigi had assembled it here in their home. Mario’d built the ironwood table it was now mounted to himself, to his brother’s exact specifications, of course. Luigi had handled the rest.

“I’m home!” He called over the noise.

“Hey,” Lu answered without looking up.

“Busy?”

Lu stopped the wheel and looked up at him. “What? Couldn’t hear you.”

“I asked if you were-a busy.”

“Oh. Not really.”

Mario rolled his eyes. Luigi’s words said one thing, but that expression said another. Clearly his twin was midway through a creative burst where Luigi did nothing but sew and very occasionally munch small bits of food before returning to work. Mario sighed. Artists. Luigi was worse than Aunt Cora.

“You know you can say ‘yes,’ right?”

“Si. Mario, what is-a this? Shouldn’t you be attending meetings with the principessa?”

“No. I really shouldn’t.”

Luigi stepped forward with skeptical eyes and raised eyebrows. “Are you sure you’re-a my brother?”

“Ouch. Fine. I probably deserve-a that. I’ve been looming over your shoulder lately and I’m-a sorry.”

“What happened?”

“Scusi?” He asked, unable to keep his face from flushing beneath Luigi’s suspicious glare. He tried to keep cool. “If I ever start-a doing it again, being-a too obsessive, you have to say calamari!” He blurted out, even more embarrassed now.

Luigi’s smile was practically ear to ear. “Calamari?” He laughed. “La principessa finally-a stood up for herself, eh?”

“Lu, it’s not funny! I need to change my behavior, or I’ll only end up pushing her away and letting her down! Are you gonna help me or not?!”

“Calmati, fratello, calmati. Of-a course I will help you.” Mario breathed a sigh of relief only to suck it back in when his brother’s face hardened, “If! If you-a promise to tell her how you feel!”

“Lu!” His cheeks were scarlet. “I can’t,” he didn’t get any farther.

“Of course you can!”

“No, I mean it, Lu, I-a can’t—"

“Mario, do you want my help or not?”

“Weegee, please,” his brother wasn’t even swayed by the eyes??! Luigi was always swayed by the eyes!

“No!”

“But I need your help…”

“Si, I know you do. So, promettimelo.”

“Luigi, fratellino, be-a resonable!”

“I’ve been reasonable long enough. Promettimelo.”

Mario sighed. What else was he supposed to do?! How could his twin do this to him? They’d sworn an oath when they were kids to never, ever break a promise to each other. Luigi knew how he felt about this, and was still pressuring him. Why? Peach was too good for him! He was just a plumber. Luigi just didn’t understand—

“Before you tell-a me again that she is too good and would-a never like you back, think. You’ve been practically controlling her life for weeks at this point. Why would she give you a chance to prove yourself-a better if she didn’t at least-a like you?”

He blinked a few times. The words turning round and round the windmills of his mind. Could Weegee be right? He thought about it some more. Hmm…he wasn’t sure. She could just feel bad for him. Or she might still want him around since he was a hero to her kingdom. But she probably could have just as easily told him to leave her alone and still had that. He lived in Toad Town, so unless she’d completely exiled him, he’d probably have stuck around regardless. Could he really promise Luigi that he would tell her? If she said she wasn’t interested, it would hurt. He really, really liked her a lot. He had for a really long time, pretty much from the moment she’d agreed to help him rescue Luigi from Bowser. So, he was wayyyy more invested than it was safe to be. He was fairly sure that if she said no, he really would be heartbroken, and that was pretty scary.

“Mario…” his twin squeezed his shoulder. “She really cares about you. You’re such an idiota. All you have to do is promise you’ll tell her. It doesn’t have to be today. Or tomorrow. But please-a don’t wait till the day I die, okie dokie?”

“Lu,” he hugged his brother tight and scolded, “don’t even-a make me think about that.”

“Don’t try to distract me, fratello.” Luigi warned. Mario threw up his hands in surrender.

“Fine. A-Fine! I’ll tell her.”

“Lo prometti?”

“Prometto.”

The younger twin heaved a massive sigh of relief.

“Now what are you-a working on this time?”

Mario loved the way Luigi’s face lit up to be reminded of his passion.

“It’s a skirt! I found-a the fabric at the market! I thought it would be fun to have some-a travel clothes that weren’t-a overalls!”

“Oh.” Then he looked up at his brother with a curious stare. “Are you-a planning to do some traveling?”

“I…” Luigi’s face fell, and Mario immediately missed the smile. Was he the reason for this? Was he why Luigi was so reluctant to leave the house? Had he been so busy trying to keep his brother safe that he hadn’t been letting Lu live?

“I think that’s-a great idea!” He said, putting on a big smile. If he was the only reason Luigi was staying here, then he needed to show his brother that he would be fine on his own and that he could handle being apart. Even if he didn’t like it very much…

Luigi was skeptical. “Are you sure, fratello? I know how anxious you-a get when I am away…”

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

“Si, but you didn’t, so I did. You may be an idiota, but I’m still used to-a having you around.” He teased. Mario knocked off his hat in retaliation.

“Rude! If I’m the idiota, then you are un monello!”

“Monello?!” They slipped into their other tongue and threw insults back and forth until Luigi crossed his arms and tossed back his head proclaiming loudly in Italian: “You’re just jealous because I am an angel!”

Mario snorted and tried to trap him in a headlock, but Luigi was both lither and taller so he easily wriggled out of it, laughing.

“More like a demon!” Mario teased. “A demon who steals all my mustache wax!”

“You hardly ever use any!”

Mario felt much better. This was how things were always meant to be. Him and Luigi living peacefully without fear constantly hanging over their heads, without constant paranoia and suspicion. Yes. This was so much better. He’d do his absolute best to keep it like this from now on.

This time when it happened, Luigi was out doing the shopping in Toad Town. Thankfully, he had his wicker shopping basket and cloth to protect his perishables from the sun. By some small mercy of fate, the salestoad had turned around to fetch something for him when the blue light materialized.

The market was loud and crowded, and he doubted anyone other than him was close enough to hear it. The second he saw it appear, he panicked, shoved his basket under it and tossed the cloth on top. He had no idea if that would prevent any possible messages from coming through or not, but he couldn’t let any of the toads catch him receiving mysterious magical letters. Especially if it risked anyone finding out who they were from.

He could probably explain the situation to Peach and come out the other side largely unscathed, but it would be tense. Technically Morton and Ludwig were enemies to the mushroom kingdom and its people, even if they were no longer enemies to him.

The toads and Mario, however, were another thing entirely. If word got out he was in any way affiliated with the dark lands, he might no longer be welcome in Toad Town, and if Mario found out…Luigi’s hands clung tighter to the handle of his shopping basket. There was no way his brother would understand, not right away, at any rate. Mario was hotheaded, the kind of guy who liked to act first and listen later. If Mario found out he’d been meeting with the koopalings, Luigi was afraid Mario might try to hurt them in some strange bid to keep him safe. Pressing his lips together tightly, his face hardened. He wouldn’t let it come to that, he decided. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t let his brother hurt those kids again.

“You did say ten mushrooms?” the confused salestoad asked when he didn’t reach out to accept the goods.

“Oh, yes! Mi dispiace, my mind wandered a moment!” he said with a soft smile, passing the toad the payment and accepting the bag of mushrooms in return. He lifted the gingham cloth to put them in his basket and noticed that on top of the cheese he’d already bought was a crisp, white envelope. He thanked the toad, said farewell and finished the rest of the shopping.

Groceries neatly stored away in the pantry or the icebox, Luigi ducked into his room. He took a seat on the bed. As he hastily tore open the envelope, he realized he was really looking forward to seeing the bambini again. Like last time, inside there was just one page with a short inscription:

‘Woods again. Day after tomorrow. West by apple trees.’ Signed Morton.

Day after tomorrow…He could probably have his travel skirt ready by then. Luigi smiled. Then he remembered what he’d said to Ludwig about bringing music and he stood up. He should probably pack a bag. He went rummaging around in the closet. That leather satchel he liked should be in here somewhere…he knew he’d brought it—he threw a boot over his shoulder—with him when they moved their stuff—aha! He grabbed it and wiggled back out of the tight closet again. With all his clothes it was a wonder he could fit anything else in there at all!

He tucked Morton’s letter safely away in one of the less easily accessible interior pockets just in case his brother tried nosing around. Next, he headed for the bookcase in the living room. Most of these were books he’d purchased since moving to the mushroom kingdom, but the top two shelves were all things they’d brought from the apartment in Brooklyn. The one he was looking for wasn’t there. He frowned.

“Mario,” he called to his brother, who was laying across the sofa reading the latest issue of Karts Weekly, “Where is Nona Palma’s book of-a the best of Italian opera?”

Mario barely looked up. “Oh, I took it to show to some of the music toads at the castle.”

“You didn’t give it to them?!” Luigi asked incredulously. “Mario, how could you—”

“Calmati, I wouldn’t just give it to them, I know how much it means to you. I put it-a back.”

“So why can’t I-a find it?”

Leaving the magazine on the couch, Mario got up stretched and wandered over to help him look. His twin bent down to one of the lower shelves and easily plucked up the very volume Luigi was searching for. At his frown, his older brother just shrugged and rolled his eyes.

“The top shelves are-a harder to reach when you’re not-a bean pole!”

Luigi just mussed Mario’s hair, their hats were hanging on the little pegs by the door as they always did when they were home, and Mario batted his arm away while chuckling. When Luigi slipped the book into his bag, the older twin raised an eyebrow. He hastened to invent some plausible excuse, but he knew he was a poor liar. If he wasn’t careful Mario would immediately clock him, so he stuck as close to the truth as he could.

“On my day trip last week, I made some new friends. One of them is a musician and he was-a very interested in music from our world, so…so I thought…”

Mario was quiet for a few beats longer than Luigi expected and for a second he felt almost sure that his brother would press him for more: where he’d gone, who they were, what they’d talked about…

But Mario didn’t do any of that. Instead, his twin smiled, kindly, and made a soft confession.

“I’m-a glad you’re making friends, Weegee.”

Unsure how best to respond, Luigi lapsed into silence.

“You’re-a going to go visit them again soon?” Luigi just nodded. Mario smiled, “This wouldn’t happen to be the traveling you were-a talking about earlier?”

His brother was so nosy. His mustache twitched and Mario raised both hands.

“Okay, okay! I get it! It’s-a none of my business! But you should-a introduce me next time we-a go to Sarasaland!”

“I will,” he lied, very glad that Mario hadn’t made him promise anything. His brother went back to Karts Weekly and he spent a little more time in front of the bookshelf. There were a few other things he wanted to pack to show the bambini…

Luigi was running late. He’d left the house about a half-hour later than he’d planned because Mario had been fussing over whether or not he’d packed enough food and water for the trip. He had. He even showed his brother as much, but Mario had been adamant that he pack a few more powerups, including mushrooms, just in case. He’d obeyed, not willing to risk any further delays, gave his brother a hug and promised to be back by nightfall before racing out the door at top speed.

It was a cloudy day with a chilly breeze, so he’d paired his travel skirt with a long-sleeved turtleneck and a cozy black bomber jacket. Speaking of which…Luigi loved how well the skirt had turned out. He’d gone for just long enough that it fell a safe three to four inches shy of the ground. He loved how soft and flowy it was, moving with him instead of against him, even as he ran. He’d used a lot of fabric, so it was heavy, but it was also warm, which, in this weather, he was very grateful for. Thankfully, aside from his initial delay, he made good time. It was around midday as he neared the forest’s edge, about the same as last time.

He glanced at the note again. ‘West by apple trees.’

Did that mean he needed to go west to find the apple trees? Or find the apple trees and then go west from there? Either way, west seemed like it might be a good place to start. He headed that direction.

Just when he felt perhaps he should go back and follow the path, he came upon a little cluster of apple trees. Whew. Good. Hopefully he was in the right place. He looked around. No sign of the bambini. Were they running later than he was? He couldn’t help but worry a little. This was the right day, and this seemed like the right place…He sat down under one of the trees to wait. When five minutes turned to ten, he couldn’t take it anymore. He got up and went to look for them. If they were headed here from Bowser’s castle, they were probably moving southwest. He’d come northwest. He might be able to find them if he went north a bit more. Luigi set off.

“Stay back!”

Ludwig? The teen sounded tense. They couldn’t be too far. That voice was close. Luigi quickened his pace weaving between the trees until he came to the edge of a clearing. He stopped dead and balled his fists. Ludwig and Morton were being circled by a trio of treevils. Their glowing red eyes narrowed maliciously. The one on Ludwig’s left tossed a twig at them. Morton tapped Ludwig’s left arm and the eldest koopaling turned in time to throw up a shield. The twig bounced off.

“Bambini, are you alright?” Luigi asked, electricity was already starting to crackle across his hand.

“Save your magic, human. Everything’s under control.” Interesting, how cool and collected the blue-haired koopaling was. Luigi knelt down and let his electric charge dissipate into the ground. He watched carefully, ready to intervene at any moment if necessary, but it soon became clear his help was not needed.

With a pointed flick of the wand at each of the enemies, a blue beam of magic shot off the little acorns attached to the enemies’ branches. The acorns tumbled to the ground and shattered. The treevils’ root-like arms flailed wildly. Their eyes turned from angry red to sad blue, then all three scuttled off into the woods.

“Hmph,” Ludwig said, looking pleased, “I rather thought as much.”

Luigi could barely contain his elation as he remarked, “Guess they were all-a bark and no bite.”

“Luigi!” Morton exclaimed happily, rushing over to hug him now that the coast was clear.

Ludwig’s eyebrows rose and his eyes were flatly unamused. He put his wand away. “Really? Puns?”

The human just smiled. Morton led the way back to the apple trees, pulling Luigi gently along, with Ludwig following close behind. When they arrived and Luigi began rustling around in his bag, the eldest koopaling looked around. It had been a while since he’d been back here. He sometimes liked to sit in the branches and read when the weather was good. Lost in these thoughts and turned so that his left side was nearest Luigi, he didn’t hear the human asking him if he would mind climbing up and picking a few apples. It wasn’t until Morton tapped his arm to get his attention and he turned back toward them that he realized he’d missed something. Luigi looked concerned.

“Are you alright?”

“S-sorry. Did you say something?” He asked, biting his lip. He hated moments like this. His family knew, so they either made sure he could see them, prefaced their words with a touch so he knew what was coming, or spoke into his right ear.

“I asked if you could get me a few apples?” Luigi asked, hesitantly. It was clear there was more going on than the younger mario brother’s eyes could see. Something about Ludwig. When the koopaling hadn’t answered, he’d just assumed Ludwig was ignoring him, but then Morton had gone over and tapped the teenager’s arm. Morton had done the exact same during the fight with those treevils a few minutes ago…

“Sure. No problem.” Ludwig easily scaled the nearest tree and stomped lightly on a couple of branches until six or seven apples tumbled into the grass below, then climbed back down.

“Grazi, piccolo!”

“Sorry,” Ludwig murmured, deliberately avoiding Luigi’s gaze, “For not hearing you earlier.”

“Piccolo, you don’t have to—”

“I’m almost deaf in that ear.” He blurted it out, still not looking at the human, “So, if you want me to hear you, just like—make sure you have my attention or whatever.”

The eldest koopaling jumped when a warm hand squeezed his shoulder. He looked up. Luigi’s kind blue eyes were staring earnestly back at him. He was glad to see that there wasn’t any pity there, only sadness. Sadness he could deal with. Pity just frustrated him.

“Ludwig, you don’t need to apologize. Thank you for telling me.”

“Just,” he bit his lip again, “Don’t use it against me.”

Luigi’s other hand landed on his other shoulder, and the eyes flashed, sternly. “I would never do that, piccolo. Never.”

“T-thank you.” When Luigi pulled him into a tight hug, he was so stunned that he didn’t return it until almost the very last second. Luigi smiled and gently guided a few stray hairs out of his face. He purred in spite of himself, but the second he realized he was doing it, he stopped. Not soon enough, however, because Morton was smiling doofily at him. His star-faced brother quickly cornered Luigi’s attention by remarking:

“Luigi looks nice in a dress!”

Luigi laughed and gave a little curtsy.

“Thank you, principe! I am very glad you think so! Oh, that reminds me! I brought some things to show you both!” The blanket he’d dug out of his bag earlier before he’d asked Ludwig about the apples was still sitting rolled up on the ground. He picked it up and flapped it all the way open, spreading it out over the ground so they had a nice little space. He took a seat near the middle. Morton sat down on his right and Ludwig to his left.

They both curiously watched him pull things out of his bag. He set out a container of funny little tube-shaped snacks filled with some kind of cream, some sandwiches, and a bag of cookies.

“You wanted to show us snacks?” the teenager asked, unimpressed.

“No, those are just because I thought you might be hungry!” Luigi’s eyes twinkled as he produced a small stack of books from deeper within the bag.

Just how much could he carry in there? Ludwig wondered. Maybe it was enchanted to be bigger on the inside…

Morton frowned a little at the appearance of books. He had just as much trouble with written words as with spoken ones. Luigi handed most of them to Ludwig, and Morton perked up a little, listening carefully as the plumber explained what they were, but happy that Luigi didn’t expect him to read them.

“These ones I-a found on our shelf of-a books from Brooklyn. Nona, my-a grandmother, she loved music. These were some of her-a favorites!” he presented Ludwig a non-fiction title about New York’s place in music history and one purely on the history of jazz. Ludwig’s face lit up, then dimmed a little.

“Thank you, Luigi, but there’s no way I can read these properly in the four hours we have left!”

Luigi laughed, “Then please, take them home with you, piccolo principe! You can have them. My brother and I, we are not very musical. We only-a have these because Nona left me her books.”

“Really? You’re certain?”

The man nodded, then his face took on a more serious note.

“But this last book, principe, it’s-a very important to me.” Luigi presented Ludwig the book of Italian opera. The koopaling handled it gingerly, carefully flipping through the pages. His eyes were the size of saucers.

“It’s music!” He flipped through more of them, astounded. “Music I’ve never seen before!” Luigi’s soft hand was on his shoulder again.

“I am happy to let you borrow it, piccolo maestro, but you must promise to take very good care of it. When I was little, Nona Palma used to play them for me on her-a piano and-a let me sing, even though I was-a terrible at singing! Those are my-a favorite memories of her.”

Ludwig’s chest felt tight. He frowned. “Then, how come you’re letting me—”

“Because I think-a Nona would have liked her favorite music to-a inspire others. You understand that, si?”

“Yes, I think so.” Ludwig was glancing through the pieces, then flipped to the cover, then back to the pieces. “Hmm, these are Italian operas, so all the words—”

“Are in Italian, si. I thought you might be curious about that. So, you’ll probably also be wanting this.” He pushed forward the last of the books he’d slid over in front of Ludwig. It was smaller than the others, but three times as thick. “It’s an Italian to English dictionary.”

Luigi had really thought this through. Ludwig hugged the book of opera to his chest, feeling a little overwhelmed. They barely knew each other and Luigi was being so nice…

“What about this?” Morton asked, pointing to larger flatter book in front of him that had funny smooth pages.

“Oh,” Luigi’s cheeks reddened a little, “Well, you asked about my family, piccolo stella. I thought maybe you might like to see a few pictures. It’s a photo album.”

“Foto album?”

“Si, piccolo, here, I’ll show you,” Luigi opened the leather cover to the first of the plastic sheets Each page could hold up to six standard size photos. The first few were from scans of old black and whites of their great-grandparents taken in Italy. Luigi pointed, “Look! They have-a that Mario nose!”

Morton giggled and turned the page. Every so often he would ask questions, but he mostly just enjoyed the pictures.

“They all have funny mustaches, too!” Morton pointed out.

Ludwig leaned in to see. One picture was in front of a long table entirely surrounded by Marios. Different mustaches or hair, sure, but all with the same nose. He bit back a snort of laughter at another of an obviously infant Luigi being chased by some kind of funny little dog. Together he and Morton flipped through a few more pages. Morton was about to turn away, when he asked his brother to wait. Luigi looked a little bit older in this one and the creature in the human’s hand looked almost like—

“Is that…a koopa?”

Luigi followed Ludwig’s finger to where it was pointing. Oh. He smiled, “Not quite. It’s called a turtle.”

“Tuttles are strange.” Morton proclaimed as though it was a law of the universe. “Their shell is them!” he told his brother, extremely excited to know something Luddy didn’t.

“Huh?”

“Their shell don’t come off!”

Ludwig was struggling to wrap his head around that. He looked at Luigi, skeptically.

“Yes. Turtles’ shells are part of their body. If it gets cracked or broken, they can die.”

Morton was right. Turtles were, indeed, very strange.

“Was it your friend?” Morton asked, curiously. Luigi’s patient smile sparkled.

“More like my pet, piccolo, but he got too big for his tank and there wasn’t enough-a room in the apartment for a bigger one.”

“So, what happened to him?” Ludwig asked.

“My dad and I took him to a special center that finds good homes for reptiles like him. They had a nice big-a fishpond for him to live in.”

Both Koopaling’s snouts wrinkled. “Fishpond?” They asked at the same time.

“Hahaha! Yes, bambini, fish pond. Turtles love to swim!”

This time Ludwig turned the page. Morton chirped happily, his tail giving a little wag. He nudged his big brother and pointed.

“Luddy, look! Sports!”

Ludwig did look. There were a lot of pictures of Luigi and/or Mario playing various sports, most which he recognized and a few he didn’t.

“Do you still play?” he asked.

“When I can,” Luigi said softly and pointed to one of the ones Ludwig didn’t know, “But I haven’t found anyone here to play-a bocci.”

“Oooh! Show Morton! Show Morton! Teach, teach, teach!”

“Morton…” Ludwig softly chided, but Luigi gave a little wave, non-verbally signaling that it was quite alright.

“Well, piccolo stella, to play we’d-a need to form two teams, and each team would need four balls like-a these.” He pointed out the ball he was throwing in the picture to Morton.

“What made of?”

“Oh, well, they can be wood, baked clay, plastic or metal.”

“Metal!” Morton’s tail wagged. “Morton can do.” The star-faced koopaling focused hard on the picture and clapped his hands together. Four metal balls, almost the perfect size materialized and thumped down onto the blanket in front of him. Luigi applauded.

“Wowie Zowie! That was amazing!”

Morton preened. “Morton’s magic is good at metal.” He picked up one of the balls and held it out, “These good?”

Luigi took it and had a closer look. It was a good weight.

“Yes, these are perfect, Morton! We need four more, but could you make them with some little lines or a pattern on them this time? We need to be able to tell the two teams apart!”

Morton nodded, enthusiastically. He didn’t usually get to play around with his magic like this. He normally just summoned spike balls. This was kinda fun! He focused on the first balls, then tried to imagine them covered in lines like a volleyball. He clapped his hands. Four more balls appeared. Aside from the pattern, they were identical to the first set.

“Perfetto!” Luigi exclaimed. “Now all we need is a little one about this big.” He showed Morton with his fingers.

Morton smiled. “That’s easy.” He didn’t even have to clap for that one. He just looked at Luigi’s fingers and gave a little nod.

The human gasped and gave a little start as a metal ball materialized between his fingers. “Your magic is-a very impressive, piccolo.”

“Thanks,” Morton said, his tail wagging. Ludwig softly smiled and took advantage of the opportunity to brag, since his little brother clearly wasn’t going to do it.

“Metal magic is pretty rare.”

“Oh, is it?” Luigi said, smiling. It was very sweet the way the older koopaling sung his brother’s praises.

“Luddy…” the younger’s cheeks were turning red.

“Yes! The inclination was passed down Morton’s branch of the family.”

“I see. You inherited it from your parents, then?” the green-clad human asked softly. Morton nodded.

“From Pa Morton.”

So, the little one was named for his father? Luigi decided he could ask more about that later. He was interested in the nature of Koopa magic.

“I take it that means you cannot summon metal objects, piccolo maestro?”

Ludwig shook his head. “No, my abilities are fairly standard.”

“Luddy being shy. He has stronger magic than the rest of us.”

It was the eldest’s turn to blush. Morton wasn’t exactly exaggerating, but the only reason his magic was more advanced was because he’d had more years of practice. Iggy and Roy could easily catch up to him if they really started putting the hours in…

“He has special lessons with Kamek!” Morton told Luigi.

“So do you,” The blue-haired koopaling pointed out.

“But Luddy has private lessons with extra practice!”

“That’s not that big a deal…”

“It sounds-a like a big deal to me. Sounds like you’re very skilled, Ludwig," said Luigi.

“I guess…” Ludwig looked away, not really used to people outside his family giving him praise.

“Humans don’t have-a magic, so it seems-a really cool to me.”

Ludwig canted his head, and his brow furrowed. That didn’t make sense. Back in the clearing…

“I saw you earlier, your hand was…”

Luigi’s eyes closed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Oh, that? That’s-a Thunderhand. I can gather electricity and-a use it to fight. I didn’t learn it till long after we-a moved here. My brother has-a firehand.”

That explained why Mario could sometimes throw fire without fire flowers, but…

“How come we’ve never seen you use it before?” Ludwig asked.

“Well, it’s-a very strong, but also-a hard to control. If I’m not careful, I’ll-a end up hurting myself.”

Interesting. Ludwig didn’t know very much about lightning magic, but Kamek had warned him against it specifically because of how difficult it was to control. Maybe he’d ask the old magikoopa about it when they got home…

“Luigi! We can play game now?” Morton asked, recalling just how they’d ended up talking about magic.

“Almost, piccolo! Just let me pick out a spot and draw-a some lines for our court.” He dusted himself off and found a good stick. The dirt path was probably flat enough. He used the stick to draw a long narrow lane. There, that was about right. He called the bambini over, showed them the small ball—the pallino—and explained the rules. Ludwig wasn’t too enthusiastic and decided he’d team up with Luigi, while Morton played against them. The gray koopaling’s first few throws were way too hard and some of the balls were immediately lost in the thick forest undergrowth. Luigi laughed it off and gently advised Morton to try throwing more softly to get the balls to stop as close to the pallino as possible. It didn’t take long for both koopalings to recognize the competitive aspect. Soon, not only were their throws stopping near the pallino, they were actively taking shots trying to knock each other’s balls away.

Luigi wondered if Ludwig had even noticed they’d stopped taking turns some time ago. The siblings were now on their third game playing each other, and he enjoyed the freedom to sit back and watch. It was peaceful. He helped himself to a sandwich and a cannoli.

“Gonna get you, Luddy! Morton wins!”

“We’ll see about that!” the eldest countered.

This game would be over soon. He was glad they were both having fun. He had a feeling their age and personality differences meant there weren’t too many games they could enjoy together like this.

“HAH! MORTON WINS!” the younger proclaimed when they’d counted the points.

“You both did very well, bambini!” Luigi warmly exclaimed as they returned to the picnic blanket. He was a little surprised when Morton barreled into him. A soft rumbling sound rolled through him, vibrating his bones. It felt nice. Morton’s head nuzzled his neck and the koopaling’s little hairs tickled his face. He hugged back. It was very sweet how physically affection the kid was…

Ludwig clicked sharply and Morton pulled away, glancing back and forth between them a little nervously.

“What is it, bambino?” Luigi asked. Ludwig answered instead.

“You don’t mind letting him scent you?”

“Scusi, piccolo principe, I don’t know what that means.” It was more than just cuddling? He softly held on when Morton tried to move away. “It’s okay. Stay. Why don’t we let your brother explain it to me?”

Morton’s face hid in his neck, embarrassedly. “Okay.”

Ludwig’s eyes traced the movement of Luigi’s hands as the man rubbed comforting circles on Morton’s shell.

“It’s—” Everyone knew what scenting was. He didn’t exactly have a speech prepared. How do you explain something everybody already knows? Hmm. “Well, humans can smell things, right?”

“Yes, of course.” Luigi confirmed.

That seemed like a good place to start. Ludwig cleared his throat, “Ahem. Koopas do, too. Our noses are pretty sensitive. We can recognize each other by smell.”

“I understand. Lots of other creatures do that-a back in my world.”

“But humans don’t?” Ludwig asked. He wasn’t too surprised when Luigi’s head shook side to side. If they did, he’d wouldn’t currently be explaining it. “Our scents are kind of like a mark. Something that signals to others w-who we are and who our family is. My little brother was leaving his scent on you, and effectively rubbing yours on him.”

The younger mario brother spent a few moments digesting what the older koopaling just told him and tried not to instinctively hug Morton tighter when the big gray koopaling whined. So, Morton was marking him as family? That was a bit overwhelming. They really hadn’t spent that much time together at all…but he couldn’t deny he’d gotten attached. He liked the kid a lot. In truth, he liked both of them. They were good kids. Should he let the scenting continue, though? It wasn’t as though it mattered much to him. Mario was hardly going to notice if he returned home smelling any differently. Luigi was more concerned about Morton. If koopas had as good a sense of smell as Ludwig said, wouldn’t Bowser or the other koopalings notice? When Morton’s eyes timidly peeked up at his face, he decided he had to be honest.

“Piccolo stella, I don’t mind you scenting me, but won’t your siblings and father wonder why you-a smell like someone they don’t know?” he asked as he played with Morton’s hair.

Morton growled, softly, surprising his brother. “They don’t have to know.”

“He’s right,” Ludwig warned, “They will smell it.”

“Morton likes Luigi’s smell.” Morton’s claws gently clenched around Luigi’s shoulders. He was trembling.

“Thank you, principe,” the plumber cooed sweetly.

Seeing how bad his little brother was shaking, Ludwig sighed. It wasn’t like he wanted to take this away from his brother…but with something that obvious it would only be a matter of time before someone figured it out.

A tiny swishing sound from somewhere in the trees behind them took Luigi’s eyes off Morton for a moment. Tension sang down his spine and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Why did he suddenly feel like they were being watched? He frowned. Before he could say or do anything though, Morton softly let out a down-sliding chirp. It reminded Luigi of when he’d found the poor little koopaling buried in the rubble and he instinctively bundled the gray koopa into his arms.

Ludwig stared in shock. The green mario could pick his brother up? Morton wasn’t light. Koopas were built dense!

“It’s okay. It’s okay, piccolo stella. No one has to know. I won’t tell anyone and as long as you don’t say anything to your-a brothers and sister…”

“Morton can wash it off later,” the koopaling said sadly. He wanted to wear Luigi’s scent everywhere…but understood why it wasn’t a good idea. If the others found out they’d tell Dad. And Dad would be mad.

“Very good, Morton.” Luigi said, smiling. He mimicked the gray one’s movement from earlier and rubbed the side of his own face on Morton’s jaw. Morton practically sobbed and clung to him as though he were about to disappear, an unbridled purr rumbling through him this time. He smiled as the koopaling eagerly reciprocated. He didn’t mind that the gray koopaling’s grip was almost too tight. After everything this poor kid had been through, he could understand why Morton was afraid to let go. He didn’t really want to let Morton go, either, but it wouldn’t be too long now before they’d have to part ways. When Morton did finally leave his lap, Luigi caught Ludwig watching them, looking torn between guilt and jealousy. He raised his right arm in invitation, motioning the blue-haired koopaling over, but Ludwig refused with a head shake. Luigi shot the eldest a supportive smile. He understood. The teenager wasn’t and might never be ready to accept this kind of affection from him. That was fine. He wouldn’t push. He just wanted Ludwig to know he was there.

After this excitement had calmed down, they ate cannolis and sandwiches together and talked some more about music and magic as the shadows lengthened. Luigi sent them home with the bag of cookies and the books he’d given Ludwig. Ludwig put a protective spell around Nona’s opera songs to ‘keep it from getting dirty or bent on the way back’ which made Luigi smile. As he waved them goodbye and lingered a few moments to watch their shells until they disappeared between the trees, the younger mario brother was already hoping he’d get to see them again soon.

Unnoticed by any of them, a pair of spectacles glinted in the gloom. Kamek’s beak was riddled with tension. Once the princes and the human were no longer in eye-shot, he hovered out from his hiding spot in the dim undergrowth of the dark thicket by the apple grove. He felt torn. Did he go after the princes? Or should he go and arrest that dratted mario brother? These woods were technically on the precipice of darklands territory. An argument could be made that the human was trespassing. He took out his wand, then hesitated. Morton…Morton was only eleven. The big gray koopaling was wise in some ways and not others, the most dangerous being overly trusting and emotionally vulnerable. Kamek couldn’t trust the star-faced prince to have the best judgement. But Ludwig! Ludwig had to know what he was doing cavorting about the woods with the brother of their mortal enemy! Ludwig was smart and a good judge of character. So, for him to let his guard down the way Kamek had seen today…Truly the fact that Ludwig had let his guard down at all astounded the old Magikoopa. Even he, the boy’s surrogate grandfather, struggled to do that!

But they should have been more careful, Kamek thought, sourly. Ludwig’s magic had vastly improved over the last few years, it was true, but the prince had gotten cocky. Did Ludwig honestly think anyone could repeatedly teleport items to the mushroom kingdom without him knowing about it? Long distance spells like that left ripples behind. Kammy had felt it, too, and they’d discussed privately determining the best action to take. He’d wanted to confront them immediately, but she’d urged him to keep a close eye instead. He almost felt it would have been better if he hadn’t listened. He wouldn’t have to choose between his grandkids’ happiness and his loyalty.

It was probably too late to chase the human down now, though, he supposed, he’d never have been able to do it. He hadn’t seen Ludwig or Morton that happy and relaxed in a long time. Even though he disliked a Mario brother being involved, he could allow them this secret as long as they didn’t get hurt. If that human ever allowed any harm to come to them, he would not hesitate to devastate. He noticed that the sky was getting redder. He really should teleport back before the Morton and Ludwig got home...

Chapter Text

“Hey Dad! You seen Morty? I wanted to spar!” Roy called after his dad.

Bowser was on his way back to his office to look over these official infrastructure project proposals in more detail. He was scanning them as he walked. He had on his reading glasses. At his son’s call, though, he waited up and allowed Roy to join him.

“What, you can’t find him?”

“Nah. He’s not in his room, or the playroom, or the garden, or even the hot springs! I can’t think where he could have gotten to!”

Indeed, Roy had seemingly checked all of Morton’s favorite places. Except…

“Did you try the music room?” Bowser asked, leafing through the pages to look at some of the cost estimates.

“Yeah, but it’s funny, Ludwig’s gone too.”

Bowser stopped mid-step and lowered his documents to peer down at Roy over his glasses. “What?”

Roy nodded. “I checked Luddy’s room, but they weren’t there either.”

Morton wandering off somewhere different than usual wasn’t too farfetched, but Ludwig? That kid liked routines. Room, library, music room. That was Luddy’s usual circuit, meals and family bonding activities, not included. He was about to call for Kamek, when the doors at the end of the hall opened and in they came. Morton said something and Ludwig softly laughed before saying something back that made Morton smile. Bowser’s heart melted. His kids were so darn cute.

But wait just one minute. He handed his pile of important papers off to Roy and turned to confront the unruly pair.

“Have you been out today?” He asked them. Their smiles vanished and they both tensed which immediately activated suspicious dad mode. “Where?”

“Bookshop. The proprietor got his claws on some new books about music from the human world. I asked Morton to go with me.”

The king’s posture instantly relaxed. “Oh, is that all?” then he noticed the way Morton was shifting nervously and his suspicions returned. “Are you sure that’s all you did today?” He asked, fixing his little star with a hard stare.

“Went to the woods to play…” Morton cracked under the pressure.

Bowser’s entire body froze except the tip of his tail, which flicked minutely. “The woods…Dimble woods?” a growl rose.

“It was my idea. I wanted a nice quiet place to read.” Ludwig said as he shouldered Morton aside.

“No! Was Morton’s idea! Morton wanted to play.”

The king rubbed his aching temples. Like he even cared whose idea it was… These kids… “I told all of you: No venturing past the lava fields.”

“Yes,” Ludwig admitted, “but no one’s seen or heard tell of Mario in weeks and it was only a little bit further…”

“Ludwig von Koopa,” he began, but didn’t get to finish.

Poof! “If I may, sire, they were not unaccompanied. My apologies, I should have returned with them, but I had a few errands to run in town and—”

“You were with them?” Bowser asked to confirm, a little surprised. True, he hadn’t seen Kamek since breakfast, but it still surprised him.

“Yes, your strictness. We spent a lovely day down by the apple trees.” The magikoopa’s glasses glinted as he faced their direction.

Ludwig tensed and swallowed. One of Morton’s hands sought his free one for comfort. He gently squeezed.

Bowser crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I suppose as long as you take Kamek with you…it’s fine. But next time tell me before you go. Okay?” he asked, softening a little because of how darn scared Morton looked. He bent over and petted his son’s head. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“We’re strong, dad.” Morton grumbled.

He tilted Morton’s face up to look at him with one claw and smiled. “I know you are, kiddo.”

Morton purred and got up on his tip-toes to rub his face against Dad’s. Bowser returned the rolling purr and scooped up his little star, his tail wagging softly. He gently scented the little one. His nostrils flared. That smell again…it was sweet but also herbal. Where had he smelled that scent before? Morton pulled away before he even had a chance to confirm he hadn’t just imagined it.

In truth, the young star-faced koopa might have stayed in his father’s arms were it not for Luddy’s gentle pull on his arm and a pointed flare of the nostrils to remind him that he still had Luigi’s scent on him. He’d pulled away from dad as fast as he could and returned to his big brother’s side.

“I’m going to my room to put my new books away.” Ludwig announced to the room at large, taking advantage of dad’s momentary surprise to get away.

“Indeed, I shall accompany to outline in detail how any future ventures beyond the lava fields will be handled.” Kamek said, his glasses reflecting the light in that way that made his expression hard to read. He glanced up at the king, “That is, with your permission, sire?”

Bowser looked from his dad to his kids. “I suppose that’s fine but meet me in the office when you’re through with them. We’ve got work to do.”

“Of course, your industriousness! I shan’t be long.”

Roy watched his brothers and Kamek start up the stairs and started after them when he realized he still had Dad’s paperwork. And dad was stomping off toward the office lost in thought and leaving him standing here…Great. He sighed and hi-tailed it after Bowser.

“Dad! Your papers!”

The walk to Ludwig’s room was torturously tense. Their steps were like beating drums as they marched. Morton was squeezing his hand so tight he was afraid his claw might break, but he didn’t want to let go. He wasn’t sure what Kamek was going to do to them. Ludwig was under no disillusions: there was nothing their grandfather could fail to get away with. Kamek was one of the two most powerful magic users in the kingdom. Futile as the gesture might have been, Luddy really itched to reach for his wand, but he had books in one hand and his little brother’s hand in the other…

Kamek floated down the silent hall with Ludwig and Morton nervously trailing after.

“That was a very foolish thing you did today.” The old voice cracked the silence like a hammer does an egg.

They didn’t answer. Kamek frowned.

“Have you nothing to say for yourselves?”

Again, their only answer was silence. Before long they arrived at the door to Luddy’s room. Kamek used his wand to open the doors for them. Ludwig went in. Morton hesitated. The magikoopa gave his wand a quick flick and Morton was roughly shoved inside by an invisible force.

The eldest flung down his books and caught his brother before Morton could collide with the furniture.

“Hey!” Ludwig’s growl was loud enough Kamek could hear it from all the way outside the door. The magikoopa paid it no mind as he joined them inside before he raised his wand again.

Bang! The doors slammed shut. Magical chains clinked as they bound the door handles. And a blue film Ludwig recognized as a sound wall covered the doorway. Kamek had ensured they were completely cut off.

“What were the two of you thinking?! Meeting with a Mario brother?! You could have been killed!”

Morton’s chest puffed up with fury. “Luigi would never hurt Morton!”

“You don’t know that.” Kamek huffed, floating right in their faces and poking Morton in the chest with his wand. “You’ve always been too trusting!”

“Grandfather,” Ludwig tried, but got a bonk on the head for his efforts.

“And you!” the magikoopa’s ire turned fully on the eldest. “Did you really think you could repeatedly teleport things to the mushroom kingdom without me noticing?! Foolish! Utterly foolish! Why, you’re lucky none of those toads are magically attuned enough to have caught wind of it! I thought I taught you better than such carelessness!”

“Leave him alone!” Morton roared, grabbing onto Kamek’s broom and tossing it away like a javelin.

Kamek barely caught himself before his broom hit the wall. He stared at the gray koopaling, his glasses flashing in the light. Both he and Ludwig were briefly able to do nothing more than gawk. They’d never seen Morton so furious.

“Is not Ludwig’s fault! Morton asked him to help send letters to Luigi! Morton asked Luigi to meet in the woods! Luigi’s my friend. I don’t care what you think! Luigi lets me talk. He actually listens! He doesn’t think I’m bad because I say things wrong. He doesn’t treat me stupid! ’M NOT STUPID!” Furious tears were beading up in the corners of Morton’s eyes.

“Morton…” Ludwig whispered, his own eyes starting to sting at the sight. He started to reach for his little brother, but his fingers stopped just shy of their mark. Morton was shaking…

Kamek hovered lower and lower then hopped off the broom, leaving it behind and approaching on foot. The steps were hesitant.

Morton closed his eyes to hold back the tears. “Luigi is good. He saved my life,” he confessed, softly.

Their grandfather’s shrewd eyes widened behind the thick spectacles and turned to Ludwig seeking confirmation.

“It’s true. Luigi pulled him out of the rubble that day. And…and healed his injuries.”

The wizened old magikoopa sighed and lay a gentle hand on Morton’s plastron. “I don’t think you’re stupid, little one, you’re just young and sensitive. There are those who would take advantage of that and use it to hurt you.”

“Not Luigi.” Morton was absolutely certain. Kamek could see it in the child’s eyes.

“He’s right,” Ludwig agreed. “Luigi’s not that kind of person. I don’t think he’d ever do anything to hurt us unless he had to.”

“Even so,” Kamek frowned, “All correspondence with the Mario brother goes through me from now on.” As they started to protest, he flung up a claw, “Be grateful I am allowing it to continue at all! And, from this point forth, as per your father’s orders, I will accompany on all future meetings! And you!” he poked Ludwig’s snout. “You shall be having two hours of extra lessons every day from now on. And I want an essay detailing the peculiarities and detection of teleport magic in my hands by noon tomorrow!”

“But grandfather,” Ludwig whined. He’d wanted to read his new books…

“Do I make myself clear?!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good!” Kamek did a little twirl and jump, his broom flying over to scoop him up. The enchantments on the door fell away with the flick of his wand. “I hope you two appreciate the risk I’m taking. If your father finds out…ah well, let us hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“We understand,” the blue-haired koopaling answered for them both. “Thank you, grandfather.”

Kamek paused to offer each of them a loving pat on the head and his own crackly kind of purr before teleporting away in a puff of smoke.

Ludwig sighed as he sat on the edge of his bed, reflecting on the lecture they’d just had. All things considered, they’d gotten lucky. That could have been much worse. Kamek was going to let them see Luigi again. One essay and some extra lessons was a small enough price to pay. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t realize his little brother was in distress until Morton whined. His blue-haired head shot up.

“Morton will leave…Luddy mad…”

“Mad? Why should I be?” he asked.

“All Morton’s fault but Luddy got punished.” Morton stared at the ground, refusing to look at him. He hated that.

“C’mere.” He called, patting the spot beside him. Morton didn’t obey right away, but when he chittered, entreatingly, his brother finally joined him. He gently scented his younger sibling. A rare thing for him. Usually, he simply let the others initiate, but he wanted Morton to see that he wasn’t upset. Morton whined again. The star-faced koopaling seemed to be fighting the purr that rumbled forth. “It isn’t your fault. I wanted to see Luigi again as much as you.”

That wasn’t one-hundred percent true, and they both knew it, but it wasn’t a complete lie, either. He had been looking forward to the meeting in his own way.

“Now Luddy has extra work…”

“Ha! That’s not so bad. I think Kamek went easy on us!” he said with a soft smile. Morton still looked worried.

“Sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He meant it, too. “But I should probably get down to the library and get started on that essay he asked for.” He slid off the bed and looked back. “You gonna be alright on your own?”

Morton nodded.

“Sure?” he parroted his brother’s question, looking stern.

“Yeah,” Morton said, getting up. They left the room together. Ludwig gave Morton one last chance to come with, but the younger shook his head. There wasn’t much for him to do in the library besides sleep. Ludwig affectionately bumped shoulders with him as they parted ways.

“Okay. See you later.”

Morton watched Ludwig go. Then he stood in the hallway for a little while feeling lost. What to do now? He felt so spun around by everything that had happened. Playing games in the forest felt like something he’d done a few days ago instead of a few hours.

“Ey, Morty!” a strong hand amicably slapped the back of his shell and he almost lost his balance. “Been looking for you all day, little bro!”

He frowned, feeling a little guilty. Roy didn’t seem upset, though. Morton internally sighed. Roy probably wanted to fight. He loved a good spar, but lately it felt like they did nothing but spar. Perhaps he should have joined Luddy in the library after all…He sighed and braced himself.

“Morton went with Ludwig.”

“Yeah, I was there when you got back, remember? Dad really laid it on thick with that whole ‘no-going-past-the-lavafields’ spiel. As if anything would ever happen with Luddy around!” Roy barked. Then the bigger koopaling seemed to realize that Morton wasn’t really listening. “Hey, what’s up with you? You okay?”

“Morton fine.”

“Don’t give me that,” Roy chirped sharply in irritation. He flung an arm around his younger brother’s shoulders and pulled him into a kind of pseudo-headlock of affection, “You know I can tell when you’re lyin’ to me!” His nose twitched. He could smell Ludwig and Dad, but beneath them were sweet and herbal notes he didn’t recognize. “Hey, who have you been—”

“Need bath. Spent too long on grass in woods.”

Roy didn’t really ease up, but Morton managed to pull away anyhow, about as elegantly as a brick. The sunglasses-wearing koopaling knew what grass smelled like. Morton smelled more like flowers or fresh fruit and something vaguely minty. Roy’s nose always knows. When Morton scrambled away and started down the hall with a call of:

“Morton go to hot springs!”

He responded with, “Alright, I’ll join you!” and took off in hot pursuit.

As soon as they got there, Morton barreled in, wasting no time completely submerging himself in the hot water. Behind his glasses, Roy’s eyes were contemplative. Morton had a secret. Luddy was in on it, he was prepared to bet a nice fat stack of coins on that. There had always been a kind of quiet unspoken bond between those two, Roy knew, but he was the one who usually spent the most time with Morty…He was Morty’s best friend. Wasn’t he? Instead of getting in, he sat on the edge of the pool and let his walls down a little.

“Hey Morty?” He got a grunt or acknowledgement so he proceeded on, “You do know you can tell me anything. We’re like best bros…Right?”

Morton was in the process of taking off his shell so that he could scrub it better when Roy asked this, and he had to set his shell off to one side so he could really think about his answer.

That only made Roy more nervous. He hadn’t done or said something that hurt Morty’s feelings, had he? If so, he hadn’t meant to. True, he’d maybe been pushing a little bit harder in sparring…but—

“Morton is tired of sparring,” Morton confessed softly. “All Roy wants to do is fight.”

“No! I just…” He sighed, finally slipping into the hot water and letting it soak all his soreness away. “I was scared, okay?!” he blurted out. “You got really hurt!”

His star-faced brother looked as though Roy had gone and grown a few new heads. Then shock melted into a smile and Morty scoffed, “Roy, scared?”

“Yeah, Morty! Of course I was scared!” He wanted to knock his little bro upside the head for even suggesting otherwise. “Out of my wits! That’s why we gotta keep trainin’ because—because—”

The pieces of the jigsaw slotted into place. Suddenly Morton understood why Roy was really being so adamant about training and sparring. For the first time ever, his big tough brother was a peer instead of some inspirational poster to live up to. What’s more, Morton knew what he needed to do because Luigi had done the very same thing for him the day the walls came down…Their bodies collided. He flung his arms around his brother in the tightest, warmest hug he could, purring loudly.

“Is okay. We don’t have to fight to be strong.”

When Roy’s arms finally came up to return the embrace, the pink-headed koopa whispered, “I’m so glad you got out alive, little bro.”

“Me too.”

“Sorry I’ve been so hard on ya in training…I just—”

“I know.”

Roy hugged tighter, gratefully, and Morton just purred and hugged back.

Chapter Text

Roy lay in his nest staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t stop going over and over that conversation in the hotsprings with Morty. Morty really thought he wasn’t scared…in a way, he was glad. I mean, I want him to see me as strong, right? Then why did he still feel lousy about it? He sighed and punched a pillow. The blow was a bit harder than he meant and it burst, sending an eruption of down feathers raining down around him. I try to be tough, but what does that even get me? What does that even matter if they can’t even tell I care?! He punched another pillow, this time just sending it flying across the nest. His eyes narrowed. No. No! He didn’t like it there. He went and picked it up, carefully returning it to its proper place on his right. The loose feathers were making his scales itch. He should clean them up. No. He told himself. No, I don’t care.

Ten seconds later he was up, carefully using the blanket as a makeshift bag to remove the feathery mess from his sleeping space. He tied up the corners so they wouldn’t spill out and went to leave it in the hall. One of the servants could take it from there, but he didn’t want it in his room getting everywhere...ugh. The thought made him shudder. When he returned, he set about remaking his nest. He had other blankets. He could fix it no—wrong. The number of pillows was wrong. He wouldn’t be able to have pillows in all of the places pillows were meant to go. Those places, more specifically, being the places where he liked pillows to go. That was where they were supposed to go. That’s where they belonged. Only now there weren’t enough. There would be a spot with no pillows. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.

He stomped over, not to the hall door, but the door connecting to the adjoining room. He reached for the door handle in his haste then realized he hadn’t knocked. After he knocked, he knocked a couple more times just to be sure.

“Roy, just come in already! I told you, you only have to knock once!” His sister’s voice responded.

He let himself in. Wendy was laying on top of her bed. He’d never really understood why, but roughly half his siblings opted for that kind of alternative sleeping arrangement. He looked around and tried not to wince at the state of her room. It wasn’t dirty…it was just…haphazard. There were nail polish bottles out of place on the vanity, an open makeup case missing a few brushes lay at the center, and his sister herself was laying on her stomach on the bed, surrounded by strewn about volumes of her favorite comics, one of which she appeared to be reading. Then he noticed something else.

“What are you wearing?” He asked, trying and failing to sound slightly judgmental. The glare she shot him informed him that he’d inadvertently poked a nerve.

“What?! I don’t always wear pink, you know.”

“I know, but—” he’d never really seen her in something this dark before. “—but…what color do even you call that?”

She pointedly turned the page of her comic without looking at him.

“It’s ash-gray green.”

“Uh-huh. And not pink today because…?”

He’d give it to her, she sure knew how to give someone the cold shoulder. He almost thought she would ignore him entirely and avoid an answer when she sighed.

“Sometimes I just don’t feel pink, okay?”

He knew that tone. She was upset. He’d known her longer than he’d known—well, anyone. They’d come from the same unsavory patch. No parents to speak of—none they could remember, anyway. Every now and then good folks would give ‘em a shake: coins, food, a roof over their heads…But before long, they’d be passed off to somebody else, or just plain abandoned again. Feeding and caring for two street urchins like them—especially one as fastidious and peculiar as he was—wasn’t easy or cheap. Soon as they were old enough, they’d done all they could to make their own way. Wasn’t enough, though. There were a lot of hungry, sleepless nights in little dug-out nests on the sand wastes or the lava fields…until Dad found them. Sometimes seeing his sister so adjusted to their new life reminded him how uncertain it all was back then. He was so glad they’d made it this far. To a place where it felt like things were finally going right for them.

“Wendy…we really got lucky, huh?” when she didn’t respond, he found himself asking softly, “Do you even remember…”

“I’m the same age as you, dipstick. Of course I remember.” She said, sharply. Her eyes, cunning and blue as ever softened just a little. “I remember a lot of complaining that the nests I dug were never comfy enough.”

Suddenly he couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore. Yeah, he had done a lot of complaining back then...and she'd stuck by him regardless. He knew that at least two of the homes they’d stayed in would have happily kept her, but none of them had wanted to put up with him. He was bigger, louder, and ate more than she did, even if he was clean and kept mostly to himself. Once he tried to sneak away, hoping that Wendy hadn’t heard them talking and wouldn’t realize he was gone until he’d had time to get away. To his mind, he’d been doing the right thing, letting her finally have a stable home. She’d found him in the sand wastes a day later and punched him smack in the snout for being such a stupid idiot. He was her brother. Blood or not, didn’t matter, she wasn’t going anywhere without him. Wendy always did so much for him…had he…had he ever even told her…

“T-thanks.”

“Huh?”

“Thanks, Wendy. I—I—I’m not really sure how I never told you before.”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curled into a sweet smile. “Aww, c’mon. Ya didn’t have to. We had each other’s backs. We’re even.”

“Thanks for digging the nests every night. And—and thanks for letting me arrange the rocks.”

“I had to,” she giggled, “If I didn’t, I’d never have heard the end of it, and neither of us would’ve gotten any sleep!”

They hadn’t gotten any anyhow, but he appreciated the sentiment. He suddenly remembered why he’d come in here in the first place.

“Hey, um, can I borrow a pillow?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck feeling a little embarrassed.

“Sure!” she reached behind her to grab one and tossed it at him. He caught it, looked down and realized that it wasn’t going to work. It was pink. He shifted his weight nervously side to side.

“Um…don’t you have any white ones?”

“The white ones are my favorites.” She snapped, but then after a quick look at his face she sighed. “Fine! Just take it!”

Roy put the pink one back and took a white one. This close to the bed, he could see the floor on the other side in front of the wardrobe. Dresses were cast down on the ground. They had a common color theme…He frowned and instead of leaving sat beside his sister on the bed. She shot him a look.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He said, knowing that if he waited long enough, she’d get back around to it. He should have talked to her about it outright. He hadn’t meant to change the subject just because he was dealing with his own problems, clearly she was dealing with some shit of her own…

“Alright, what’s up?” She asked, closing her comic and shoving it over by the others.

“It’s nothing, why don’t you tell me about—”

“Oh, no you don’t! You started it! You came in here looking like Junior ate one of your pet cheep cheeps to ask me for a new pillow. Should I even ask what happened to the old one?”

“Punched it.”

“Of course you did,” she rubbed her temples. Geez, she’d ended up with seven brothers and one was more than enough… “Why did you punch your pillow?”

“Got mad.”

“Well, duh-uh, understatement of the century.”

“Morty didn’t think I was scared.”

Wendy was confused. What was he on about now? And why was he so bothered by what Morton thought? That wasn’t very like him. “So?”

“So?! He almost died! You were there when Dad and Kamek told us what happened!”

That’s what he meant? And Morton thought…well, the more she thought about it, that made sense. Roy pitched himself as the tough one, he didn’t exactly wear fear on his sleeve. And Morton wasn’t great at interpreting complex or layered emotional cues, so he wouldn’t have realized that most of them had been terrified to learn their little brother had come so close to…she didn’t want to think about it. It had affected her as strongly as everyone else. It was one thing to be living hand to mouth and never knowing if you’d make it to tomorrow. It was another to have a life of otherwise perfect comfort and realize that nothing had truly changed…

“And?”

“And?! He thought I didn’t care!”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s a lie and you know it! Morton knows you care! You’re his brother.”

“What’s it mean then? He thinks I wouldn’t be scared to find out he’d—”

“You don’t wear your heart on your sleeve, Roy, and Morton’s not a mind reader! Haven’t you two been doing extra sparring lessons, like, every day? He’s gotta know something is up and—”

“He does. We talked about it in the hot springs.”

She sat up and put her hands on her hips. “Well, why are you still obsessing over it, then?”

“I just—What if something else happens?” he forced his fears out knowing she wouldn’t ridicule or dismiss them. “What if Morty or one of the others—what if they get hurt worse—and what if—what if something happens and they don’t know that I—they go and they don’t think I care?”

“If you’re that worried about it, then you just tell them.”

His eyes widened. He shrank away from her a little, tucking his head uncertainly toward his shell. “I—I can’t just walk up to them and—”

“Why not?”

He thought it over. Why not, indeed? She was probably right, but, “They’ll think I’m weird.”

“So, they’ll think you’re weird. But then at least they’ll know. And it’s not that weird, really. You care about them and you’re worrying so bad over them not knowing, you’re murdering poor defenseless pillows. Who cares what they think as long as they know, right?” She was right.

“Well,” he looked down at his feet, “then…no matter what happens, I care about ya, Wendy. You’re—”

“Save me the sap, bro. If there’s anyone in this family who already knows, it’s me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“But nothing, just save it, okay? I haven’t taken off my mascara.”

That made him giggle and she punched him in the arm. He eyed the dress again. It wasn’t so bad…it was kinda cool how the color changed a little bit depending on the light. “So, ash-gray green, huh? I guess I could get used to it.”

Wendy tensed. He wondered if he’d maybe said something wrong.

“You sure you don’t mind? Me not being pink all the time?”

“Why should I?” He was surprised. She really seemed to think he cared. He supposed he might have given her with what he’d said earlier, but, “Nah, I don’t. I think you’re great. I dun care what you wear. You could wear a fancy suit like dad’s if you wanted, and I wouldn’t care. It’s still the same you.”

A funny light came into her eyes, like he’d sparked a novel thought. It didn’t take him long to realize. He smiled. “You can if you want! I bet dad would buy you one!”

She shook her head. “No, I think…I think I wanna make one of my own.”

“Go for it, little sis!”

“Hey! No way! You’re the little one!” she trilled, chasing after him as he made a mad dash for the door back into his room. She had pink pillow in hand, ready to whack. He narrowly escaped by closing the door just in time. “Aw, coward!”

“Goodnight, Wen.”

“Goodnight, Roy.”

Chapter Text

Luigi was having a comfortable day cooking and listening to some of Nonno’s old records on the victrola. It had been about a week since his meeting with the bambini by the apple trees and he’d had no letters since then. He was refreshing his memory and practicing crostoli ahead of the spring carnivale held every year in the mushroom kingdom. It was just a celebration of the changing seasons, but he liked bringing crostoli. It made him feel like he was bringing with him that little piece of home. The record he was listening to ended and spun rather noisily. He carefully wiped all the flour off his hands before going to change it. He carded though the box of records and picked the first one he fancied, slid it out of its sleeve, and put it on, carefully setting the needle down so as not to scratch it. He went straight back to work, eyeballing the oil in the heated pan.

In Napoli where love is king

It looked ready. He quickly laid four pastries in and watched closely as they began to bubble, humming along a little.

When boy meets girl, here’s what they say~

He did a little dance to the beat as he flipped over the frying pastries before they could get too dark.

When the—

He was distracted from the chorus when his ears caught the sound of the front door opening and closing firmly.

“Uno momento, per favore!” he said softly, assuming it was Mario, and removed the finished pastries from the oil, only to turn and around and find Daisy standing very close to him. He gave a little frightened jump, then smiled, “Dai, I didn’t know you were-a stopping by! You should have-a told me—”

“Your musical friend from Sarasaland’s name is Tom and he plays the bassoon!” She exclaimed, glancing nervously back over her shoulder as though she were expecting…

The door opened again. Mario and Peach came in, apparently making friendly small talk. Peach was giggling a little. She shot Daisy a look.

“Really, Daisy, you could have waited for us.”

“You walk too slow! And I haven’t seen Lu since last week! You get to see him every day!” She pouted, throwing her arm casually over the green bean’s shoulders. “Besides, I smelled food! What’s cookin’ chef?”

Luigi laughed easily, though his mind was still a bit whiplashed. “Oh, um, crostoli. I’mma practicing for the carnivale—uh, the spring festival.”

“Mmm!” Daisy made to grab one and he swatted her hand away.

“They’re-a not finished!”

She pouted. Mario sniffed the air appreciatively, mustache twitching.

“Well as soon as they are, I’m getting the first one!”

“Oh, just you try it, mustache!” Daisy growled, playfully straightening her gloves like she was getting ready for a fight. Luigi laughed.

“Enough, both of you. When they’re done you can-a both have some.” Now that he had mouths to feed, he hastened back to the cooking, calling over his shoulder, “So, principesse, to what do-a Mario and I owe-a the special visit?”

“Aw, well, I’m just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by and see if you wanted to spend a few days in Sarasaland before the festival next week! I have shopping to do for the wedding and a little advice from my best man certainly won’t hurt anything…”

He couldn’t help but blush at the reminder that he was her best man. That’s right. They really should be getting down to brass tacks on the wedding plans. They only had four months…sooner things were settled the better.

“Lu, the crostoli,” Mario gently reminded. Thank goodness for twin brothers! Any longer and they’d have burnt. He turned them over.

“Right. We have a lot of-a work to do!”

Mario suddenly resembled a cat who’d just brought a bird as tribute to their favorite human.

“And you can-a spend some more time with-a Tom while you’re there!”

Peach’s eyes brightened with interest. “Who’s Tom?”

Damn. He was doomed. He took out the finished crostoli and started the next batch naturally as anything but shot a pointed glare at Daisy.

“Daisy—you-a told him?”

“Of-a course she told me! I have to-a get my information somewhere!” Mario said. His expression was almost scolding but featured a mischievous smile. “Maybe you’re-a hiding it from-a me for another-a reason, hmmm?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Idiota.”

“Aw, c’mon, fratellino, what I-a say?!” Mario flung up his hands defensively, reminding Lu of their dad.

Luigi ignored his brother’s innocent protests and calmly explained to Peach, “Tom is a new friend who I met in Sarasaland a few weeks ago. Mario is just being-a stupido and-a nosy!”

Peach clapped her hands together happily. “Oooh, a new friend! You should invite them to the festival!”

“Um, actually, principessa, Tom is—we’re-a just getting to know each other. I’mma not sure I feel a comfortable asking him to the festival.” He turned the pastries over and failed to fully hide his nervousness.

“Well, I-a better get to a meet him soon!” Mario piped up.

“Fratellone, I’m just not ready to introduce him to you all, yet!”

“But—”

“Calamari!” Peach said, firmly shooting Mario a meaningful look. Luigi took the pastries out of the oil and as he wiped off his hands shot her a grateful glance.

Mario’s mouth opened and closed a few times. The older plumber looked from Luigi to the princess, saw their silent exchange and finally, though reluctantly, let it go.

Whatever had just happened, Daisy felt the resulting awkward lull in the conversation and instinctively launched herself into it full force, “Soooooooo, how soon can I steal you away?”

“Well,” he considered, “If-a Mario finishes up here so I can-a pack maybe…fifteen, twenty minutes?”

Daisy jumped and clapped her hands ecstatically. Luigi put a few more crostoli into the oil. Mario protested.

“So soon? But fratellino—” the elder twin frowned, even as Luigi handed him the spatula. It wasn’t until he was shoved in front of the stove that his reluctance turned to open anxiety, “Wait! Lu, I can’t—”

“Of-a course you can!” Luigi said encouragingly, “You-a saved me from-a burning them earlier! Just-a trust your instincts.” He patted his brother on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

“Fine.” Mario agreed, grumpily, watching the bubbling pastries in the pan like a hawk. “But you’d better be-a bringing me back some-a mustache wax!”

“Anything for you, fratello,” he said. Daisy grabbed him eagerly by the arm and started dragging him toward his room.

“C’mon, slowpoke, let’s go!”

The worried big brother turned the pastries over and sharply called after their retreating figures:

“And don’t-a forget your sunscreen!”

One of Peach’s gloved hands patted his shoulder. “Sweetie, relax, he’s an adult. He can take care of himself.”

Mario’s muscles relaxed at her gentle reassurance but couldn’t look away from the hot bubbling oil as he thanked her because he was too afraid his face was as red as his shirt. S-s-sweetie?

Daisy actually wasn’t much help with packing because she was too busy browsing his closet for things she’d rather like to wear herself. Luigi didn’t mind. He focused on loading up his favorite suitcase with everything he’d need. She held a hanger with one of his turtle-neck dresses up to her neckline in front of the tall wall mirror.

“You are very lucky I’m a good liar.”

Isn’t that the truth, he thought, wryly, and just nodded.

She hung the dress back in the closet and came to stand next to him while he sat on the bed neatly folding a few shirts.

“I’m serious, Lu.”

“I know you are.”

Ugh…Looks like she’d have to be even more blunt than usual. “You’re my best friend. You know I don’t mind covering for you, but if I have to keep lying to your brother’s face, I think I deserve to know what’s actually going on.”

He avoided her eyes. His shoulders drooped. “I know you do. I just—don’t-a freak out, okie dokie?” he searched her face for confirmation. She frowned but nodded.

“Okay...”

“I’ve been—” he sucked air in through his teeth. “I’ve been-a visiting Ludwig and Morton.” When that only resulted in an uncertain disbelieving stare, he clarified, “Bowser’s bambini…”

“You-WUH?!! BOWHRS KRRDS?! WUR UR YU THUH HING?!” He’d recognized the look in her eyes just in time to press his hands over her mouth. He put his finger to his lips.

“Shh!” He waited until her eyes reflected grim understanding before he took his hands away. Her hands found her hips and she looked furious. She whisper-shouted at him.

“Lu, seriously?! Bowser’s kids?! Have you lost your mind?! When your brother finds out—”

He had to try very hard not to let panic affect his volume.

“Please, Dai, you can’t tell him!”

“I’m not going to tell him! But you know how he is! You really think you can keep avoiding him?!”

“I know! Believe me if anyone knows, it’s-a me!” he ran his hand through his hair then pulled at his mustache. “I just—”

“You need to stop. Before Mario or worse—their father—finds out! They’re Bowser’s kids and you’re their enemy!”

“My brother’s his enemy. They’re just-a kids!”

“I—” her fists tightened. She seemed to be grappling with something, “I don’t think you understand. Bowser’s kids mean everything to him.”

“I already-a know that.” He shot back, and tried to explain, “But they’re lonely. They just want-a someone else to talk to.”

She sighed. It wasn’t like she wanted to take that away from them. Luigi was a really sweet and kindhearted person…

“Lu, I know how you feel, but—”

“I don’t-a think you do, Dai! You have no idea how hard it is for them! How much they just want to be-a kids! They don’t-a want to fight anymore than I do! They’re sweet and sensitive and—”

“I do know. I’m their Aunt, Lu.”

It was his turn to stare.

“Scusi?”

She sighed and scooted him over until she could sit beside him, her hands folded nervously in her lap. She toyed with the fingers of her gloves.

“I mean, not like their blood Aunt or anything…just…Lu, how much have they told you about their mother?”

“Not much,” he admitted, his heart sinking and his chest feeling tight. “Only that she died not long after having Junior.”

Daisy’s face was heavily lined with pain. “Yeah, she—she got really sick not long after Junior hatched…”

There was a soft knock at the door and Peach poked her face in, smiling.

“Mario’s almost finished with all of the—the—”

“The crostoli? Good!” Luigi said, managing to paint on a fake smile in return. “We’re-a nearly done!”

“Perfect!” and she closed the door, her footsteps retreating down the hall.

Daisy’s mood was still somber. He lay a gentle hand on her arm. She shook it off.

“Dai?”

“We can talk more about this later.”

“Okie-Dokie.”

For the rest of the visit, Daisy was just as boisterous and talkative as ever, but more than once Luigi caught glimpses behind the mask. It was hard not to feel anxious and uncertain as they boarded her airship together. Part of him felt he should say something. Tell her she didn’t need to talk about it if she wasn’t ready to, but another part recognized that whatever she had to tell him was so important he shouldn’t take the chance. He needed to know.

It wasn’t until they were seated across from each other, each with a cup of tea in their hands, seated on the plush pillows of the little viewing area by the big round window at the front of the ship, that Daisy’s mask fell away and her voice dipped.

“Her name was Terrenia. They’re—” her voice broke and she took a sip of her tea. “They’re a type of flower that only grows in the volcanic ash of the dark lands. Have you ever seen one?”

He shook his head, admitting sheepishly, “I didn’t even know that-a flowers grew in the dark lands.”

“Of course they do,” she snapped. “Terrenias are the most beautiful flowers in the world.”

“In that case, I hope I get-a to see them someday.”

“The side of the volcano is covered with them this time of year. I used to go and pick some for her memorial every spring, but that was before—”

He hazarded a guess, “Before the kidnappings started?”

She nodded, gratefully.

“What was she like? Terrenia?”

“She was a riot!” Daisy giggled, “We got into so much trouble whenever we were together our parents didn’t know what to do with us! And whenever we weren’t in lessons we were usually together! Her parents were the Koopa goodwill ambassadors to Sarasaland.”

“Ambassadors?”

She nodded. “Sarasaland is the dark lands’ oldest trading partner.”

“Ah, I didn’t-a realize.”

“Most people don’t. Our relations became strained after Terrenia,” she swallowed and changed thoughts completely, “Ooh! I remember the first time we met Bowser! We’d just turned eighteen and my parents were throwing a royal ball to celebrate me accepting full duties as Princess.” Light sparkled in her eyes as she recounted memories of that happy time, “He arrived the day before. Terre had just managed to help me escape my tortuously boring old tutor by tossing pebbles at the classroom window as a distraction. I climbed out the other side down the sunflower vines and Ol’ Worty was so mad—” she snorted with laughter and Luigi chuckled along. The way she told it, he could almost see it in his mind’s eye. “We turned to make a run for it and crashed right into Bowser and Kamek! Practically flattened them!”

“How did that go?” Luigi asked, grinning. “Love at first sight?”

“Pshhh! Nah! He was stuck up and pretty darn full of himself! He demanded an apology and whoof when Terre said no, he was so red I thought he was gonna explode!”

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! I’M THE KING OF THE DARKLANDS HOW DARE YOU—”

“Really? King? You sure?” Terrenia crossed her arms over her plastron, her dark eyebrows raised as she surveyed this ‘so-called-king’ with her dark marble-like eyes. “I could lift you with one arm!”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’m still taller than you! You pipsqueak!”

“Pipsqueak?!” she blew hot steam out her nostrils and advanced on him till she could yank him down by the shell.

“Terre, c’mon, let’s just—” Daisy attempted to de-escalate the situation, but her friend was having none of it.

“Nuh-uh! This guy called me a pipsqueak! I think he’s itchin for a fight!”

“Sire, we should go and greet his and her majesty—”

“Ha! Fight you? You wouldn’t last three minutes against me!” He scoffed, puffing out his chest.

“Wanna bet?”

“Really, your foolishness, we’re expected—” the broom-riding magikoopa tried.

Bowser’s smirk was just the same back then as it would be years later, “I think the king and queen can wait three minutes, Kamek. Time us.”

The old magikoopa rolled his eyes behind his glasses and sighed. “Oh, very well.” Pulling his wand from his robes, he waved it gently and in a flash of blue light they all suddenly found themselves on the lawn. “But at the very least, we should refrain from damaging the gardens as much as possible.”

“Fine. Just set a time-keeping spell.”

“Alright, alright, your impatientness! Three minutes in three,” Bowser and Terrenia both dropped into low crouching stances, ready to spring at each other. Daisy moved over to stand with Kamek. “Two, one…GO!”

They slammed into each other. The sound made Daisy wince. Terrenia had the advantage through the first minute, but it didn’t take long for Bowser to wise up and realize that she had the sheer strength advantage. Daisy really didn’t envy him. Wrestling with Terre the way he’d been trying to do seemed to have all the effectiveness of tackling a sturdy brick wall. Now he’d changed to a hit and evade kind of strategy, which was...better. But he still wasn’t winning. Daisy nearly jumped out of her skin when out of nowhere Bowser spat a fireball that went bouncing across the lawn leaving little patches of singed grass in its wake, but Terre didn’t even flinch. If anything, her friend’s smile widened. When they briefly made eye contact with thirty seconds left in the match, Terrenia tapped her snout in a knowing gesture and winked. Daisy gave her a thumbs up.

With less than fifteen seconds left, Bowser took a deep inhale, his chest, neck and face turning red from the building heat, about to unleash a storm of fiery breath, when he was suddenly drenched head to toe in cold water. His fire died in his mouth as the time reached zero.

“And time!” Kamek called, dutifully. “Now, sire, we really must be—”

“You cheated!” Bowser roared, red eyes burning with fury. “How did you—”

“Hahahaha,” Terren giggled, “Did you think you were the only one with magic, fire boy?” she asked, blowing a water bubble that hit him right in the face and burst, soaking him anew.

“Why, you—” the water on his face, head and hair was turning to steam.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Not used to losing?”

He was on his feet in seconds. “This isn’t over! Next time I see you, we will do this again!”

Terrenia’s eyes glimmered with real excitement. Her tail was wagging.

“Promise?”

Bowser’s cheeks turned red as his hair when he saw that sweet, hopeful expression.

Daisy’s eyes rolled as she went to drag her friend away before Terre could embarrass herself further. “Don’t mind her, King—uh,”

“Bowser,” the large spiked koopa answered without really looking away from Terrenia.

“King Bowser. She lives for a good fight. She’s just winding you up.”

Terrenia pouted. “Aww, Daisy! I was gonna get to fight some more!”

“That’s quite enough for one day, Terre, go easy on the poor guy!”

“But he’s a big boy, he can take it!” Her friend argued. Daisy wasn’t having any of it.

“Terrenia, enough! C’mon, let’s go, before Worty comes out and catches us!” Then she remembered her manners and did a little curtsy just before the pair of them passed the garden wall, “Oh, and it was nice meeting you!”

Daisy ended her account with a sweet smile on her lips and reflected, “You know, looking back, I think Bowser was interested in her from that very moment on.”

“Did they fight again?”

“Ugh! Practically every time they had the chance.”

“And she, you know—she felt the same interest?”

Daisy chuckled and shook her head. “Nope, she was pretty dense when it came to that sort of thing. I don’t think she was even really trying to be flirty I think she just came across that way. And Bowser seemed to get that, he just kinda got really blushy and quiet whenever she was around after that.”

“It’s hard to imagine-a Bowser blushing.” Luigi said, trying to picture it, but he’d only ever seen the Koopa King look intimidating, angry, cocky, or downright scary.

The sarasaland princess’ face stiffened. “He was different back then. He had a temper, but he wasn’t cruel, not really, just strict.”

“So, if she wasn’t interested in him, then when did they—”

“A year later.” Daisy sighed, “It was incredible. Like meeting a completely different person. One year had changed him so much…and it didn’t take long to find out why.”

“Oh, Terre~” she sing-songed, knocking on the door of her friend’s room.

“Hey Dai! I thought you’d be busy getting ready for your big birthday bash!”

“I would be, but I know how you love an audience!”

“Huh?” Terre’s head tilted to one side, curiously.

Daisy didn’t buy it for one second.

“Oh, come on! Like you’ve forgotten. Bowser’s going to be here any minute! C’mon, let’s go! Sooner we get there, sooner you two can get your first match in!”

Terrenia’s tail wagged softly. “You—you really think he’ll still want to?!”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Daisy asked, giggling. “He likes you!”

“Shut up, he does not! Pretty sure he hates me for winning all the time!”

“Nuh-uh, if anything that made him like you even more, come on!” she tried to tug, but budging a koopa two times her size wasn’t a cakewalk.

“Don’t joke, Dai, that’s not funny.” Terrenia’s face was very serious.

Daisy just rolled her eyes. When Terre actually started to follow, though, she whooped victoriously.

By the time they got to the gardens, Bowser was already there. He was stomping around loudly and bending down to look around flowerpots and under the hedges. Every so often, he sniffed the air. Terre snorted in amusement.

“What’s the matter? Lose something?”

Bowser jumped and whirled around to face them. “Ah! Um, good morning, Princess Daisy!” Then he looked at Terre and his cheeks reddened. “T-Terrenia.”

“Hi!” Terrenia greeted enthusiastically. Her tail wagged again. “Ready to fight?”

“Oh, um—well, actually, this isn’t a great time—”

“K-king Dad?” A tiny voice asked. They all turned, but Bowser was the only one who went straight over to the little guy.

“Luddy! You’re supposed to be hiding,” he said, getting down on one knee and still looking absurdly huge next to the kid. The little blue-haired koopaling glanced nervously at the pair of them and quickly climbed into Bowser’s arms, clinging to the king’s plastron with shaking claws.

“I-I heard you talking,” the kid, Luddy, ‘whispered’ so loudly Daisy and Terre could both hear him. Bowser smiled and gently ruffled the thick blue hair with one claw.

“Sorry, little guy, didn’t mean to cut our game short. Wanna try again?”

Ludwig’s neck craned to look over at them.

“Right, um, Ludwig, these are some friends of mine. This is Princess Daisy,” Bowser turned so Ludwig was facing her, then he turned again, “And this is Terrenia.”

Ludwig’s cute eyes looked from her back up to Bowser’s face. “Like the flowers?”

Bowser nodded and beamed at him. “Yes, just like the beautiful flowers!”

“You know, Ludwig, Daisy and I have been hiding in this garden since I was around your size.” She smiled warmly, but with a hint of mischief in her eyes, “We know all the best hiding spots!”

“You wanna play with me?” he asked, his voice airy and small, eyes full of excitement.

“Well, only if your Dad says it’s okay.” Terre’s dark eyes met Bowser’s red ones.

“Can they? Please, King Dad?”

Terrenia could barely hold back a snort. Who could possibly say no to that sweet little face?! Not Bowser, clearly, because he soon agreed and set Luddy back on the ground. Daisy took hold of his small claw and squealed excitedly.

“I’ll show you my favorite spot of all!” She and Ludwig took off as Bowser turned his back on them and started counting. Terre hung back and as they left Daisy distinctly heard her say:

“So…King Dad, huh?”

“I think…I think seeing how kind he was under that spiky shell of his was what really drew her in. And nothing brought that out more than the soft spot he had in his heart for kids. They started writing each other after he left. Eventually they were sending a letter almost every day. By the time my next birthday rolled around, they were married.”

At Luigi’s surprise, she threw up her hands, but the smile never left her face.

“I know, I know, it feels fast, but they were just—I dunno. It was like once they really, truly, saw each other for who they were it just clicked. They were so great together. She’d always been a happy person, but with him and the kids…she glowed. After they married and she moved in with him, she wrote me every week and I visited as often as I could. Every time they took in more koopalings, I was the first one there to meet them. Good ol’ Aunt Daisy…”

“But you don’t see them anymore?”

She sighed. “The kidnappings forced my hand. I had to pick a side…and the Mushroom Kingdom are even older allies than the dark lands…”

“Surely, you could still visit?”

“I don’t know, it isn’t like I haven’t thought about it,” she admitted, gnawing at her bottom lip, nervously. “I’m just not sure I’d be welcome.”

Luigi sipped his tea, then offered, “I can ask the bambini, next time I see them, if you like.”

“I—yeah,” her smile was teary-eyed, “Please do.”

The rest of the flight was fairly quiet. They finished their tea and watched the clouds roll by in comfortable silence.

Chapter Text

Knock! Knock! Knock!

He groaned, pulling one of his pillows over his head and trying to roll over and go back to sleep. He’d just skip breakfast. He’d been up till the early hours enamored with the opera pieces in that book Luigi’d leant him. Whoever it was would go away and then…

“Luddy!” Morton exclaimed, tumbling in, clumsily. He looked around the room and quickly found his brother, running over and jumping on the bed.

“Mortooooooonnnnnn…” Ludwig whined, slowly sitting up when it became clear the younger koopaling wasn’t going anywhere. “What time is it?”

Morton went over to the window and flung open the thick curtains so he could check. Hmmm…

“Daytime!” he said, apparently quite confident in this assessment.

Ludgwig rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes and sighed. “Alright, well I’m up now. What’s going on?”

The gray koopaling came back over to the bed. Seeing Luddy up close made Morton feel a little guilty. His big brother looked really tired. Huh, and some of Luddy’s hair was stuck up all funny. He tried to fix it by patting it down. It just went back up. Morton frowned, trying again. Again, it stuck up all weird. He was going to try a third time, when Luddy caught his hand.

“Morton.” Ludwig gently recalled his sibling’s attention to his question, “What’s going on?”

“Morton wants to send letter to Luigi,” the eleven-year-old grumbled, glaring at the stubborn cowlick like an enemy he wanted to swat. “Turn around. Morton make hair sit down!”

“No, thanks, little brother. Trust me, brute force doesn’t work. One sec.” he grabbed his wand from the bedstand where it lay next to his shell. He tapped his head with it. Cowlick now fixed, he pointed out, “I’m not sending the letters anymore, remember? Kamek said—”

“Morton remembers.”

Ludwig frowned. “Then why—” the nervous look on Morton’s face said it all. He nudged his brother’s shoulder, encouragingly. “It’s just grandfather. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

That disbelieving expression very much begged to differ.

“Grandfather is…scary.” Seeing that Luddy looked very concerned, he clarified, “Good, but scary. Morton can’t—” not the right words. Try again. “I don’t understand. Sometimes he says stuff and Morton thinks it means one thing, but then actually different. Can’t tell how he feels. Dunno how to talk with.”

The eldest made a simple observation, “That’s probably because you don’t spend very much time with him.”

“Ludwig does.”

True. Ludwig could see where this was going. Well, he couldn’t always be there whenever Morton wanted something from Kamek. That simply wasn’t feasible. Somehow, they’d have to form some kind of common understanding. The best way to do that was to get them to spend more time together. Though, how exactly to accomplish that, he had no clue. Kamek’s interests were very, hmm, what was the best word? Nuanced, perhaps? Not quite, but usually grandfather’s interests were mature, or—as Ludwig knew his siblings would say—boring. Kamek liked books, challenging magical tomes, history, gardening, poetry, high-brow art…all things that Morton had little to no interest in. There had to be something but wracking his brain like this wasn’t really helping address the matter at hand.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go with you.”

Morton hugged him a bit too tight and he patted his brother’s head, wheezing that he couldn’t breathe. Morton let go.

“Have you written it already?”

Nodding, Morton took an envelope out of his shell and handed it to Ludwig. The eldest took out the message and read it carefully. This one was a little longer than Morton’s previous two, which made him want to grin, but he didn’t. He didn’t want his little brother thinking he thought it was funny or something. Morton was terribly insecure about reading and writing.

Hello Looeegee,

Hmm. They probably should ask the man how to spell it properly. Morton could be right, for all he knew, but he had a feeling it probably didn’t have that many vowels in it. They knew how to spell Mario, Luddy reflected, a bit bitterly. But really that was only because the red plumber was almost as bad as their dad when it came to slapping his name on things. He returned to the letter.

Last time was really fun. Would like to meet again soon. Got in trouble with dad. Not supposed to go past lava fields to play. Dad thinks Mario will hurt us so is hard to get away. Kamek knows. He saw in woods. Says he won’t tell dad. Dad says Kamek has to go with now whenever we go far. Could try to meet nearer home, but others might see. I am scared but still want to see you. You are my friend. This time Looeegee can choose where to meet.

M

Ludwig handed the missive back to his brother. “Letting he choose this time, huh? Let’s hope he doesn’t choose somewhere silly like the mushroom kingdom.”

“Luigi will choose smart. Luigi not dumb.” Morton pointed out.

“I know, but he still lives there. What do you think he sees in that place?” Ludwig asked, not really meaning for Morton to answer, just thinking out loud. He really wasn’t a huge fan of the parts of Peach’s kingdom he’d seen. Morton’s answer surprised him.

“Morton kinda likes the colors.”

He made a fake gagging face and smiled, ruffling Morton’s hairs, “Blegh, it hurts my eyes!”

“Hadn’t even noticed until I walked home after Luigi saved me. The flowers and mushrooms come in colors Morton doesn’t even know the name of,” he trailed off, eyes dreamy and with a faraway expression that made Ludwig’s smile fade, “but I want to.”

Ludwig sat up a little straighter.

“Since when do you like colors so much anyway?” this felt like a new development, but since he usually didn’t spend quite as much time in the middle of the throng of his siblings, a lot went on that he simply didn’t know about.

“Morton draws with Junior sometimes,” the younger explained. “Like the waxy crayons. Junior helps me read the names.”

“Oh.” Ludwig felt a little embarrassed that he didn’t know.

“What’s Luddy’s favorite color?”

Geez, it had been a long time since anyone had asked him that. It just wasn’t the kind of thing he and siblings talked about…but maybe it should be. They were usually too busy trying to help dad fight Mario to discuss things as trivial as favorite colors. Or, he was, at any rate. Perhaps they’d never discussed it because they all already had a good handle on each other’s likes, dislikes and hobbies? Hmmm. It was probably a combination of both. Morton must have taken his silence for indecision, because the star-faced koopaling went on speaking.

“Dad likes gold, like his scales, but sometimes he also likes green. Larry likes blue like his hair. Iggy likes green and Lemmy likes orange. Roy likes pink, but the really bright kind like his sunglasses. Wendy says she likes black the most because it goes with everything, but Morton thinks maybe she thought I was asking about clothes. And Junior likes red like the lava.”

“Wow. I, um…I didn’t know that.” He admitted. Some of them he could have guess, but a couple he’d really had no idea. Nor had he ever really bothered to think about it. Morton was looking at him expectantly. “I, uh—I’ve always liked dark blue. Like my shell and my hair.” Seemed like that was about what Morton had expected. Dutifully, he asked, “What about you? What’s your favorite color?”

A change came over his brother. Morton’s head bowed and the broad shoulders sagged before giving a minute shrug.

“It’s okay if you don’t have one,” Luddy offered, softly, but that didn’t seem to improve the mood at all. Morton pulled his legs in toward his plastron, leaning back against the headboard of Luddy’s bed. The elder brother chirped and nudged him, but Morton didn’t answer right away.

“Did Luddy see Junior’s painting?”

He shook his head. He didn’t come in contact with many of Junior’s drawings. They tended to be in and around the art room.

“Dad hung it outside his room,” Morton said, resting his head on his knees. The letter to Luigi could wait a bit. Luddy wanted to figure Morton’s melancholia out first.

“Okay. I’ll be right back,” he went out into the hall and wandered over toward Bowser’s chambers. Sure enough, framed proudly on the wall just to one side was one of Junior’s paintings. It had to be pretty new, too. Ludwig was sure it wasn’t here on Friday when he’d come by to ask Dad for help turning the piano in the music room. The glare of the setting sun had been driving him crazy.

It was actually a pretty good painting. Junior had improved a lot since the last time Ludwig had seen any of the little guy’s works. It was a rather playful rendering of him and his siblings all piled into Dad’s clown car together. Not bad. In fact, he supposed he liked it. What he didn’t understand, however, was why Morton was so upset. The star-faced koopaling was front and center throwing one of his claws up in the air. Ludwig didn’t really appreciate that the layout and angle made he himself look so tiny, but he wouldn’t begrudge Junior a bit of artistic freedom. Returning to his room, he found Morton looking as glum as when he’d left.

“Luddy saw?”

He nodded, slowly, sidling up to sit next to Morton in a similar position.

“Junior’s getting a lot better with a paintbrush.”

Morton didn’t say anything, only curled in on himself tighter.

“I thought we all looked pretty spot on, except maybe Junior painted me a little bit short,” he said with a smile. He felt terrible when instead of helping like he’d hoped, tears gathered in the corners of Morton’s eyes. “Morton, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. What’s wrong?”

The younger koopaling bit his lip wiping the tears away with his claw before they could fall. “Is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. Clearly, it’s upsetting you.” Ludwig countered.

“S’just…everyone so bright and colorful,” the tears were welling up again, “All—all except Morton.” Morton’s lip trembled. He tried to hide his face in his hands so Ludwig wouldn’t see. “Morton looks like he doesn’t even belong…”

What? His arms shot out and wrapped as best they could around his brother while his mind reeled.

“Morton,” he asked in a hushed voice, “how long have you felt this way?”

The gray koopaling was still hiding from him.

“Always been different…” Morton sniffled.

Tap Tap! The door opened and Dad’s big head leaned inside.

“Luddy, I don’t care how late you were up! It’s lunchtime and you need to—” Dad stopped dead in the middle of his tirade at the unexpected sight of them. He made eye contact with Ludwig, asking. Ludwig gave the minutest of nods, so the king let himself in and closed the door. Instead of testing the bed with his weight, he sat on the floor near Morton’s side. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle and free of all judgement, “Hey, what’s going on, bud?”

Morton curled up somehow still tighter as though hoping it would make him disappear. Bowser gave a comforting purr and tried to reach out, but Morton wasn’t ready and pulled away. The king’s eyes turned to the eldest. Ludwig hugged Morton tight and decided to start where Morton had started with him.

“Dad, y’know Junior’s painting?”

Bowser blinked, then clarified, “The new one in the hall by my room?”

Ludwig nodded.

“Sure. What about it?”

Elbowing Morton softly, Ludwig caught a brief sliver of eye-contact through Morton’s hands and nodded encouragingly. Morton’s head pulled into his shell just a little.

“M-Morton doesn’t belong.”

Dad growled and Morton flinched. Bowser quickly realized and cut the sound off. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stand hearing his little one sobbing and seeing them both curled up like that, so he took one in each arm and pulled them close where they could feel his purr and hear his steady heartbeat.

“Morton,” he called gently, nuzzling the top of the little guy’s face with his jaw, “what do you mean?”

“All bright colors and golden scales and hair and Morton is…Morton is…” the kid couldn’t finish. He only sobbed. “Morton wishes he could be like you!”

“Morton,” Bowser cooed and shook his head with an unsteady chuckle, “Why would you ever wish that?”

It had the desired effect. Morton’s hands fell away, and that face turned to look at him. Bowser smiled and rubbed his jaw against the gray koopaling’s cheek.

“Why do you want to be like me when you’re already so special, my little star?”

Hearing the name unlocked something in Ludwig’s brain. ‘Oh, piccolo, it means ‘little one’ in Italian’ Luigi had said. And last night in those opera pieces…that dictionary Luigi had given him had limited usefulness. Nouns were easy enough, but verbs and tenses were harder to nail down. One word he had been able to translate, however, was stella which meant star.

Piccolo stella…Luigi had been calling Morton the very same endearment father always used. Huh.

“Dad really thinks I’m special?” Morton asked, eyes watering. Bowser nodded immediately. Morton frowned and looked away, “But I don’t look like anybody. Just a freak.”

Bowser and Ludwig reacted the same way at the same time.

“Hey!”

They looked at each other. Bowser smiled.

“See? Your brother and I don’t think so.”

Morton hmphed.

“Fine. I’ll prove it to you.” Bowser said, rearranging them in a position that would be a bit easier on his arms, but kept them close. “KAMEK!”

They winced at his sudden volume and Morton shrank a little lower behind dad’s arms when the magikoopa finally appeared.

“Your hungriness, should the children not expect you at lunch?” Kamek asked, noting the glum faces all around.

“Tell the kitchen to send up something on a tray, and let the others know I’ll catch them later. Then I need you to bring us a few things.”

“Do go on.”

“All the books you can find on the ferric branch.”

Behind the glasses, Kamek’s eyes widened and darted down to Morton, who looked puffy-eyed and solemn. “Anything else, sire?”

“Pictures would be better,” Ludwig suggested and Bowser nodded immediately.

“Yes, and any paintings or drawings or visual representations you know of.”

“I shall return shortly,” the magikoopa said, popping off to deliver the message to the kitchen and the other koopalings. After that, he started his second quest, only it quickly became apparent that the things he’d been asked to fetch would not fit very well in Ludwig’s room. He devised a solution.

Poof! “Your dadliness, I have assembled the things you requested in your chambers. They would not fit in here.” Little Morton looked shocked. “With your permission?” he raised his wand. Bowser nodded and he teleported them to the King’s rooms.

Bowser set Ludwig and Morton down. Ludwig was fascinated, immediately setting off to explore the maze of canvases, books and tapestries. How had he lived in this castle his whole life and not seen these before?! Morton was more hesitant, almost scared, cowering into his father’s side. Bowser gave him a little nudge, but the kid still stuck to him like glue until Ludwig made a series of delighted musical chirps and cried out:

“Morton! Morton! Look! They look just like you!” the eldest ran back, grabbed his brother’s hand and led Morton over to an enormous painting leaning tucked against the far wall. “This must be your family branch!”

The second Morton was pulled away, Kamek floated down for a hushed word with his son. “What’s all this about?”

“Morton’s been looking at Junior’s painting and feeling like an odd one out ‘cuz of how different he looks.”

Tutting softly at his son he inquired, “You did tell him how special he is?”

Bowser nodded, then grumbled, “Course I did, but showing doesn’t hurt either.”

Kamek rolled his eyes. Bowser a good parent but could stand a lesson or two on how important it was to continually reinforce these things. Morton couldn’t be allowed to go on thinking he was anything less. He floated between the many large canvases and tapestries the direction the children had disappeared.

Morton stared at the painted family tree. Luddy was right, a lot of them looked sort of like him, but—

“Not all look like Morton…”

“No, indeed not.” Kamek said, floating up behind them. Morton frowned and turned to look at him.

“Lots like everybody else.”

“Hmm?” Their grandfather asked, not quite knowing what was meant by that.

“Like Luddy and Dad and Junior. Lots of colors.”

“Oh. I suppose so, but gray scales are rare and associated with metal magic.”

Morton’s eyes widened, his claws reaching delicately to brush one of the little portraits that was gray and white like him. “I’m gray from my magic?”

“Not exactly.” Kamek pointed to the top of the painting where a name was written in beautiful calligraphy. “This is the Ferric branch of the royal Koopa family. Your branch, little one. Look. These are your parents down here.” He pointed a finger to the other side at the bottom. Morton ran over to look, eyes wide. “That’s your father, Morton Senior.”

A very serious-looking Koopa with gray scales and a white head glared out from the portrait.

“Wow, you look a lot like him!” Ludwig exclaimed.

Morton’s finger slid sideways to the portrait beside his father. She was completely different from any other koopa he’d ever seen before. Instead of gold, her scales were copper.

“This Morton’s mom?” he asked, softly.

Kamek nodded.

“She different.”

“Yes. She was also a user a metal magic.”

“But her scales are…”

“Copper, yes. She was the last in a line of copper wielders. Excellent fun she was, too! Oh, the battles we had!”

“Battles?” Morton’s eyes became the size of dinnerplates. “You fought my Ma?”

“But of course!” Kamek chuckled. “Where else would I have learned everything I know about metal magic?”

Morton’s touch lingered on her portrait, then he looked up at Kamek almost hopeful, and asked, “Morton could learn copper magic?”

Kamek shrugged. “No idea. Most metal wielders are inclined to one or another. There’s more than just copper and iron, as well. Why, I believe one of these books has a story about a rose gold metal wielder. Not that rose gold is particularly useful…There’s steel too, also extremely rare, titanium, of course, and bronze. As a ferric gray scale, you favor iron but—”

“I can try?” he asked.

“What are you asking me for?” Kamek cackled, poking the boy in the snout. “You can do what you like! I’m not going to stop you!” he smiled.

That wasn’t why Morton was asking. He rephrased.

“Kamek help?”

Broom lowering so they were eye to eye, his grandfather took him by the shoulder.

“I’m always there for you, little one. Whenever you call.” He gently herded both Morton and Ludwig away from the family tree and down another row of paintings, “Now, here is your great uncle Tungsten…”

Kamek took his time showing them everything. Ludwig watched the joy and fascination play over Morton’s features every time another distant family member or metal wielder was introduced and felt really glad that dad had come along when he did and had gotten Kamek involved. This was good for his brother.

“Sire,” a paratroopa entered, just as they were wrapping up, looking very terrified to interrupt such a tender scene.

“What?!” Bowser growled, red eyes flashing.

“News of Mario, my king! The red plumber was sighted in Dimble Woods.”

Ludwig, Kamek and Morton all stilled and turned to stare.

“WHAT?!” the king roared, and the crows outside the window scattered, cawing wildly.

“We believe he’s on his way here,” the parakoopa gulped, barely stammering out the words.

“Assemble my troopas! I want the shy guys in the air! I want constant updates on his location! Double the guard on the castle and lock it down! No one goes in or out without my say-so! Go!” the poor thing wasn’t fast enough. Bowser lobbed a fireball after them. “I SAID GO!”

Chapter Text

He wasn’t very surprised when Kamek’s wand glowed and Dad’s room was set back to rights, the paintings and books and things presumably popped back to their mysterious dwellings elsewhere in the castle. Morton tried to hold onto his arm, but he offered a reassuring pat before gently letting go, trying to cross the room to their dad.  Bowser was pacing, smoke and sparks flying out both mouth and nostrils.

“Dad—” he tried, but he was quickly drowned out by other voices. Kamek had teleported away and teleported back a few of his siblings and they were asking questions. The magikoopa did this a few more times and more voices joined the din. Ludwig’s head hurt, he put his hands over his ears. Dad roared.

“QUIET! All of you! Kammy!”

Poof! “You called, your loudness?”

“Stay with the kids. Kamek, with me.”

“Yes, sire!” Kamek said, floating out the door after their father.

Ludwig, seeing the opportunity, bolted after them while Kammy was distracted by his siblings’ barrage of questions.

“Dad!” He called out, having to run just to keep up with Bowser’s massive strides. “We don’t even know that Mario’s coming here! Just—where are you even going?!”

“To rally my army!”

He didn’t like it, but if dad was right and Mario was going to pose a threat… “Alright, I’ll go with you.”

“NO!” Dad wheeled around, breathing hot smoke into his face while shouting down at him. He tightened his claws.

“I’m a general. The koopas under my command won’t be much use without me to coordinate them!”

“I said no, Ludwig!”

“Dad—” he was frozen by the ferocious growl leveled against him. Flames licked the corners of Bowser’s maw. The massive snout was wrinkled in a snarl and enormous fangs were too close to his face for comfort. Basic self-preservation kicked in and he curled away.

“Mario nearly killed Morton last time. You think he’ll let you live?”

“K-King Bowser,” the words felt alien in his mouth, but he felt had to say what no one else, even Kamek, seemed able to: “We don’t know that Mario intended the outpost to collapse. It could have been an accident—”

Red eyes were burning through him filled with so much revulsion he took another step back.

“Are you defending him?”

“No.” Ludwig said, straightening up with confidence. “But you know what he’s like! The second you escalate things, he’ll do the same!”

“Kamek, escort Ludwig back to the nest.”

Ludwig didn’t care how intimidating Bowser was. He bristled. “This is a bad idea, Dad. You should go out to meet him in the woods to question him!”

“Were my orders unclear?” Bowser spat, glaring at Kamek. The magikoopa floated lower to take Ludwig by the arm, but the teen shoved it off and turned his back on the king, stomping off.

Outside the king’s quarters, the old advisor sighed.

“You’re right, of course.” Kamek admitted, “But there’s no point arguing with your father when he’s in such a state.”

“Pen and paper.”

Kamek’s glasses glinted, “Sorry?”

“I need pen and paper. Now.”

Not really understanding but unwilling to test the fury dancing in Ludwig’s eyes, he obliged. Ludwig pressed the paper against the wall and scrawled a note. He shoved it at Kamek. The magikoopa took it, read it, and shot the koopaling an extremely disapproving look.

“Ludwig, you know I can’t—”

“Send it.”

“You are asking me to betray my allegiance.”

“I’m repaying a debt. He saved my brother's life. Giving him the chance to save his feels like the least I can do.” Ludwig’s eyes glowed with the strength of his own resolve. “If you won’t send it, I will.”

Kamek raised his wand. The note was encircled by blue light and vanished with a pop. Strange, that should have taken more magic…oh. “He’s in Sarasaland.”

“Good.” Ludwig said, facing the door of father’s chambers with a straight face, lips pressed into a thin line, “Then maybe he’ll get here in time.”

Luigi, Rosalina and Daisy were sitting on the settee in the royal drawing room finalizing the guest list.

“No. No, no, no! I’m telling you: we can’t have the entire mushroom kingdom! Peach and Mario and Toad are—”

“And what about Toadette? You can’t forget her!”

“Right, of course, but really you don’t need to invite Toad’s second cousin! Or the head of the castle guard! Toadsworth is fine, we know him really well, but I don’t want a ton of strangers there. I was hoping for something small. You know, with our friends.” Rosa explained.

“Darling, you know I completely agree with you for the ceremony, but the celebration is going to be kingdom-wide!”

“Well…couldn’t we have two?” Rosie suggested, blushing. “One for our close friends and then another with everyone? Please?”

Daisy looked at Lu, but the man was no help. He just smiled and shrugged, “Sounds nice to me, but you’re the one with a budget.”

Aww, she couldn’t see Rosa blushing like that and not say yes, especially for such a sweet request. Besides, weren’t two parties always better than one?

FWOOM…POP!

A blue spiral of magic appeared above Luigi’s head. Rosalina and Daisy watched in silent awe as a piece of paper floated down and he grabbed it. As he read, all the color drained from his face.

“Need to borrow your airship,” he exclaimed as he rushed out the french doors and across the sandy garden straight for the airship platform.

“Sure!” Daisy said, reflexively. Things like this just happened around the Mario brothers. She was used to it, but that didn’t stop her from running after him and calling out, “What’s going on?”

“Dai!” Rosie exclaimed, running after her and shoving the note Luigi had left behind into her hands. Daisy’s eyes darted over it. By the end she shared Luigi’s dread.

Mario’s in Dimble Woods. Troops think he’s on his way here. You need to hurry. I don’t know what Dad will do and he won’t let me fight. I’m worried they’ll kill each other.

“Fuck.”

Luigi was flying far faster than he’d ever dared in his life up to this point. What the hell was Mario thinking?! Why couldn’t his idiot brother ever seem to let sleeping dogs lie?! The hot-headed idiota! Come on, come on! All he had to do was make it to his mansion in Evershade Valley. In the basement there was some warp pipes leading to various sections of the darklands. NeoBowser city, the lava fields, koopa cape, and, as he’d learned the hard way, the catacombs under Bowser’s castle. No one knew about them except him and E. Gadd. He’d discovered them by accident while clearing the place out and fixing the plumbing. Seemed like the previous owner of the place liked having access to Bowser’s kingdom. He hadn’t brought it up to Peach or Mario because he didn’t really want to be opening his house up to military traffic, no matter how ‘necessary’ Mario would say it was. And he thought it would be good to have an unknown way into the koopa king’s domain in case his brother’s ‘rescue efforts’ ever landed him in trouble. Or Mario’s own stupidity…as it had turned out in this case. Seriously, he couldn’t begin to fathom this. Mario had promised the principessa! He’d sworn to stay away!

Oh, thank the stars, he could see the mansion. He began a slightly to rapid descent and the airship scraped and bumped noisily into the gray dirt. The ravens cawed and flew away, upset that their rest had been interrupted. Luigi turned off the engines and jumped out before the thing had even settled. He dug his spare key out from under one of the flower pots and let himself in, running straight to the basement. Only as he scrambled down the stairs did he realize he was still wearing his dark green travel skirt and not the usual getup. Fuck. Too late now. At least he could move and fight in this thing. He didn’t even have his hat. He walked into some cobwebs and coughed, raking his head with this fingers to dislodge the gross sticky fibers from his hair. The warp pipes were all the way at back, tucked in a little corner closet. He flung the door open. Right. Light blue was koopa cape. Red: lava fields. Steely gray: the city, and black with the red crest of Bowser’s face on it…Here goes nothing. He held his nose and jumped in. Guh…he always hated warp pipes. They were so spinny…blegh.

He emerged in a dark, dank tunnel lit only by torches. Good, so far so—

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

The ground shook. Dust fell from the ceiling. Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mario! Luigi thought, Why couldn’t you just stay away?! He took off at run. He didn’t even know for certain he would end up in the part of the castle where they were fighting, but for now he focused on keeping on a course that took him up. He was in the castle roots. Also, it was stifling down here. Where parts of the structure had collapsed lava was seeping in. None of it mattered though. As long as he kept heading up he was bound to emerge somewhere in the castle and then—

By his fifth set of ladders there was a hatch above his head. About time, now he just—

Any line of thought he may have had was lost as he emerged on the ground floor of the castle in a room he didn’t recognize. Some kind of hall, possibly an entertainment space, but that wasn’t what had stopped him in his tracks. No, he’d stopped in his tracks because this place looked like a war zone. What the hell was happening?! There were broken statues, curtains on fire, pieces of the wall and ceiling had fallen. He could hear koopas screaming. Someone was coming. He pressed himself into a sunken alcove and saw koopas who looked some kind of servants or civilians being led down the halls by some troopas.

“This way, hurry, it isn’t safe! Quickly!”

He watched them go, then immediately darted the opposite direction. He just needed to find a staircase. A higher window could help him get his bearings. The staircase made him grimace. Parts of it had collapsed. He gingerly jumped from one section to the next, letting out a relieved breath at the top of the landing. He found the window he’d been hoping for. Okie dokie. If the gates were there that would mean he was near the front of the castle, on the east side. Right, the throne room was in the center, if Bowser and Mario were there—

“RRRRRRAAAH!”

The ground shook again and he had to grab hold of the wall to steady himself. He shrieked when a bit of the ceiling plummeted toward him. Bowser must be really, really furious, and when the green plumber recalled the pitiful state of little Morton under all that rubble, he really couldn’t blame him. This is exactly why Peach had made Mario promise not to—

Rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble, POW!

Luigi was knocked completely off his feet. That wasn’t Bowser. What the hell was—

Wait—

Rumble, rumble, rumble, POW!

He knew what that was. He lurched forward into a sprint, tottering as the ground shifted beneath him, and weaving every time things toppled or collapsed around him, but endeavoring to keep moving. He had to keep moving. He had to find his brother! Desperately, fervently, he wanted to believe that Mario wasn’t the one doing this, that it was some ploy on the part of Bowser’s army that had gone awry, but…he’d never seen koopas use POW blocks…

Thankfully, the shaking subsided, but when Luigi moved from the easter wing across the top of the grand staircase and into the west wing it became clear the damage had already been done. In the great hall Luigi was greeted with more broken landings, smoke, flames and rubble. He pulled his shirt up over his nose and crouched low through the area, feeling the door into the next hall to make sure it was cool before entering and closing it again behind him to slow the fire’s spread. He coughed and looked around before pulling his shirt back down. It was quiet here, but the destruction was no less striking. Ashy marks and burnt streaks, holes in the walls, the POW blocks must have gone off near or possibly under this area. Mario had probably blown a hole in the castle wall to get inside…why here, though, Luigi had no idea. This area didn’t even look like a stronghold or a tactical position it looked—oh no. He started running again, now and then pausing to glance into the rooms he passed. Residential…regally residential…What was Mario thinking?! In his panic he turned a corner and tripped over something, only for his nose to meet the end of a familiar wand on his way up. He followed the wand tip upward to scaled claws, blue hair and eyes so full of anger he could hardly recognize them.

“You…” Ludwig’s voice was unsteady.

“Ludwig! What happened? Where’s—”

“Your brother’s with my dad. Fighting.”

“Your siblings are they—”

“We were separated in the explosion. Kammy, our guardian, was hurt. You said we weren’t your enemy,” the last was barely a whisper, “I can’t believe I trusted you!”

“Piccolo, I didn’t know about any of this! Mario waited ‘til I was away, I never would have let him—”

“You’re too weak to stop him. It’s stupid to think anything could ever change!”

Luigi’s bare hands curled into fists. “You’re right. I am-a weak. But we’re going to find your siblings and get them out of here and then I will put a stop to this!”

“HOW?!” Ludwig shouted, wand trembling. “Why should I believe anything you say?! Why should I trust you?!”

“I wish I had an answer to-a give, principe, but all I can-a do right now is-a beg you to let me help.”

The wand shook even worse as their eyes met again.

“Betray my trust,” Ludwig swallowed, magic gathering at the end of his wand, “and I’ll kill you.”

“I understand, piccolo.” Luigi said, nodding gravely. He would expect nothing less at this point. Ignoring the fact that the wand was still pointed at him he said, “Where is Kammy? You said she was-a hurt?”

“One minute we were in dad’s nest, the next the ground blew out from under us. Most of us, including Kammy fell through the floor. She was injured whilst using her magic to protect us. They lent me some of theirs so I could teleport them to the infirmary. It’s on the other side of the castle. They should be safe there. But Morton, Roy and Larry weren’t in the center of the room like we were and—” Ludwig swallowed. “They weren’t there when we landed, so they must still be here somewhere. I started here in case they fell, but didn’t reach the lower levels like us, only—nothing.”

Luigi’s hand found Ludwig’s shoulder. “We’ll find them. What’s the quickest way up there?”

“There’s a spiral staircase that way,” Ludwig nodded, frowning, “but we’d have to pass through the upper landings looking down on the throne room.”

Luigi’s eyes were bluer than ever. “That’s a risk we’ll just have to take. Lead the way.”

Mamma mia…The throne room was littered with stone, scarred with scorches and claw marks. Luigi leaned over the ornate banister for a fleeting glance at the battle below. Mario was scuffed up, a little tired, but as yet otherwise miraculously unharmed. Bowser was…holy cannoli, the koopa king was almost unrecognizable. The horns were thicker and longer, the legs more powerful, tail elongated, the snout more protruding, and the claws—the claws were twice as long as usual at least.

Ludwig peeked down to see what Luigi was goggling at. Oh.

“That’s dad’s giga form,” he whispered. “It’s something that happens when dragon koopas feel threatened enough to allow their minds to run feral.”

The human swallowed. They needed to find the other koopalings fast. He had to get his brother out of there before Mario became mincemeat. They rushed onward.

“This way, there’s—” Ludwig reached out to open a door.

“Wait, don’t!” Luigi shot forward and snatched the teen around the waist, just barely pulling the them aside in time as a torrent of flames burst from the hallway beyond. Ludwig was too shocked to do anything for a few moments. Even though he was a bit fire resistant, that would have cooked him and he had no desire to be a dry bones. Luigi had saved—the man’s voice snapped him out of it. “Got anything for-a these flames?”

Right. He raised his wand, amassing an enormous bubble full of water that he then sent careening down the hall. It burst and became a wave that smothered the flames.

“Thanks,” Luigi said, sounding relieved.

Why was the human thanking him? Luigi had just—

“Luddy?!” called a very familiar voice.

“Morton?!” Ludwig called back, looking around. He didn’t see… “Morton, where are you?”

A door a short ways down the hall shook, but it was blocked by a collapsed column.

“Here! Morton is in here!”

“How did you get all the way back to your room?!” he asked, a bit disbelieving.

“Morton almost fell but couldn’t reach Roy or Larry 'cuz hole in floor! Morton made holes in walls to try and find way around! What about you? Luddy okay?”

“I’m fine! We’ll get you out!” Ludwig pointed his wand at the broken column, trying to get it to move, but even a levitation spell required strength magic for something that heavy...and strength magic was his weakest area. It barely rose an inch or two before falling back down. He tried again, sweat beading on his brow. He had to find a way. He had to get his little brother out of there…

The ground shook again. Terrible crashing and breaking noises could be heard from inside. Their blood ran cold when Morton screamed.

“Morton!” Ludwig said, combining magic with physical effort as he tried to roll the column away for all he was worth. It barely budged.

“Luddy! Floor is falling!” Morton was panicking. Luddy readied his wand again, but Luigi pushed his arm down and went to the column himself. There was no way. No human could—

Luigi’s entire face and neck turned red with strain as he pried the column up and started to pivot it away from the door. He was actually moving it, Ludwig marveled.

“Get—your brother—piccolo—can’t hold—this long…” Luigi panted. Ludwig did as he said and blasted the door off its hinges, prying it open as far as he could. Inside Morton was clinging to a tiny bit of floor in the doorway and the floor behind him had given way. Ludwig reached out and took his brother’s arm, trying to pull. Morton was bigger and heavier than he was…there as a thud somewhere behind him and then warm hands were beside his on Morton’s arms, pulling the gray koopaling to safety.

“LUIGI!” Morton cried, lobbing himself into the human’s chest when they finally had him back on solid ground. Luigi’s arms rose to wrap around the gray koopaling and Morton nuzzled into the man’s soft neck with anxious and scared chirps.

“It’s okay, piccolo. It’ll all be-a okie dokie. Do you know where the others are?”

Morton shook his head. “Larry was by door. Roy on other side near back hall. Larry said he would try to find way to meet us through hallway, but didn’t see or hear him. Morton couldn’t open door, then second earthquake and my room lose some floor and was trapped. Roy say would try back hall and meet in throne overlook.”

Luigi and Ludwig exchanged a glance. The plumber spoke first.

“With the fire in here, I doubt Larry could have gotten far. Unless there are any other way to meet the halls over the throne room from that side?”

Ludwig shook his head, but Morton’s face had fallen into a look of abject horror.

“Luddy…”

When his eyes met Morton’s he somehow knew.

“You don’t think…”

“What? What is it, piccolo?” Luigi asked, not liking the terror that had gathered in their eyes. When they next spoke, it was together.

“The tiny door.”

“What door?”

“There’s a door, er,” Ludwig struggled to explain, “More like a little hatch in the wall. It used to be a kind of tunnel for the goomba servants, but dad just lets them use the halls, so nobody uses it anymore except—except Larry. He and Lemmy are the only ones small enough to even fit in there. Well, I might be able to, but only if I take off my shell.”

“Where does the passage end?” Luigi asked, now as concerned as they were. Even if Ludwig could fit, without a shell he’d be defenseless. One more good shake and a collapsed tunnel would mean instant death.

“There are dozens of entrances and exits. You can use it to traverse the entire castle.”

“Larry’s spot.” Morton said, softly. Luigi and Ludwig turned to him with matching stunned expressions.

“What?” Luddy asked.

“When Larry scared, Larry take tunnel to favorite spot. Larry feel safe where can see everything.”

Thank the stars for his little brother! Ludwig gripped Morton’s shoulders tightly and shook him, “Where? Can you show us?”

Morton nodded, grabbed both their hands and led them back the way they came, but latest rumble had collapsed that entrance to the throne room. Running faster now, they took the long way, further down and round a corner into the great hall on the other side when another bout of shaking and a roar threatened to topple them. Luigi flung out his arms to sweep both koopalings against the wall as debris fell from above shattering parts of the landing. Then a sound met their ears. Luigi’s stomach clenched.

“Wa-Wa-Woah!”

“Roy!” the koopalings cried, trying to shoot forward to look for their sibling. Luigi motioned them to stay and went himself. The sound had come from the floor below them. He leaned over the railing and looked down to the second level of the great hall. Oh no. The big pink-headed koopaling was barely hanging on a shred of broken banister that was already creaking under his weight. Luigi didn’t think. He just launched, gripping railing in his hands tight and swinging inward before dropping down to the level below. The piece Roy was holding onto snapped and the green plumber was regretting wearing his thick travel skirt. He trapped it between his legs as best he could as he hooked his shoes on the stone ledge and caught those thick arms with his own.

“Hey! Who—who are you?!” Panicked eyes were squinting at him. Luigi realized he’d never seen those eyes because they were always hidden behind thick sunglasses. Roy was squirming too much.

“Stop struggling, piccolo, or I’ll lose hold.”

Roy didn’t have to be able to see in this bright light to know that voice.

“Green Mario! This is all your fault! You and your stupid brother!”

“Roy, please, I can’t pull you up from this position. If you want to live, we need to-a swing together to make it back up to the ledge. Please.”

Well, it wasn’t like he had much choice in the matter. No matter how much he hated the guy right now, he didn't want to die. He started to swing and the human’s body matched him. They gained momentum, then some more, then—HAHA! They launched all the way back onto solid floor again. Only one problem. The stupid human had gone and stood too close to the edge. Luigi lost his balance.

“Whoa-wah-wow!” he cried, closing his eyes as he expected to plummet to his death. Only he didn’t. Because a claw was wrapped around his arm. Roy was squinting down at him with a very severe frown. He hefted the human up near his face and glared.

“I should let you fall, but I guess you did save my—” his nose twitched, heightened even more since his vision was compromised, “You…” he knew this human’s scent because he’d smelled it before. It wasn’t as pronounced now as it was then, but underneath harsh notes of ash and cinder, he smelled herbs and fresh citrusy flowers. Even fresher he smelled—Roy pulled the green Mario to safety and set him down. “Where’s my little brother?”

“Roy!”

His tail wagged as he squinted over to see Luddy and Morton rushing into view. He pulled each into a one-armed hug.

“Boy, am I glad to see you two! Luddy, the others are they—”

“They’re fine, I sent them to the infirmary, but we still need Larry.” Ludwig frowned as Roy struggled to keep his eyes open, “What happened to your glasses?”

“Got shattered. Dang ceiling fell and nearly knocked my block off.” When that made Luddy instantly start checking him for injuries, he gently pushed the eldest away, “I’ll be fine. Let’s focus on findin’ Lar.”

“Morton was leading us to his favorite spot.”

Roy nodded. That was a good idea. “The one in the throne room?”

Morton nodded in return while Luigi and Ludwig blanched.

“The throne room?!” Ludwig asked.

“Yeah,” Roy confirmed. “He likes the observation deck in there. You know, the one at the top. Says he can see forever…”

“We need to hurry, bambini. Before your father or my brother bring this entire place crashing down!” Luigi said, rushing past. They followed at a fast clip.

It felt like the entire throne room was groaning every time Mario punched Bowser or Bowser swept Mario into a wall. Morton pointed and Luigi followed the gray claw. High at the top near the colored glass dome, was a little platform barely any wider than himself. On it was a little koopaling with bright blue eyes and matching hair, anxiously eyeing the raging battle below. Okay, first he had to make a plan. There had to be some way for him to get up there. He scanned the area below and his heart, already tense, clenched.

Ludwig saw the fear and followed the man’s eyes. “The landing…” it had been smashed to smithereens, and the snapped wrought iron supports were on end in the rubble below like spikes. If Larry fell, it would be lethal. He went as far as he dared on the broken landing and called up to the slightly older of his baby brothers:

“Larry! Come down from there!”

Larry shook his head and chirped frantically. ‘Can’t!’

“Why not?”

‘Secret tunnel collapsed!’

Trying very hard not to panic, Ludwig forced himself to keep breathing. In, then out. “Okay! We’ll find a way to get you—”

“Fire!” Morton shouted, pulling Ludwig back just in time. A fireball, too big and hot to be one of Mario’s, shot straight past the red plumber it was meant for, taking most of the wall, part of the ceiling and the entirety of Larry’s platform with it. The cry of despair and pain that rose from all three siblings as their little brother began to fall wrenched two hearts apart.

“NO!”

For the second time in as many minutes, Luigi’s body acted without his brain. He was pushing past Ludwig, his feet finding purchase they shouldn’t have been able to on falling bits of ceiling and fragments of wall to reach the tiny, screeching, crying koopaling. In that minute, as the world moved in slow motion around him, Luigi’s life changed forever.

Feral red eyes scanned the room like searchlights when the children’s cries rang out. He locked on to them. His hatchlings, crying, screaming, and—LARRY! Larry was falling, he saw the ground, saw the broken beams the spears of death that would skewer his second youngest, shell and all. He let out another roar, not angry, but screeching and desperate. He started toward them only something grabbed his tail and pulled him back. He snarled, not taking his eyes off his child for a moment, only trying to pull harder, but the force on his tail grew stronger and soon he was being swung around. NO! His son! His hatchling! They let go and he went flying through the far wall, brick crumbling around him. He didn’t even feel it, springing up and rushing forward on all fours. His son! His son—where was—

Larry’s fall was interrupted by green. Different, but familiar somehow. They scooped up Larry, then used a piece of falling debris like a springboard and with a super jump accentuated by the long green skirt they were wearing landed safely on the remains of the other side of the broken landing below.

Luigi felt burning hot eyes on him. Larry’s beak was digging painfully into his arm. The poor frightened thing, after all, had no way to know he wasn’t a threat. But that burning sensation of being watched was so strong the plumber turned to look over. The world hadn’t quite resumed normal speed just yet, because the few seconds their gazes were locked felt like ages. The king of the koopas was staring at him in a way he seldom experienced with people he’d known for so long: like it was the very first time.

For Bowser, it was. In that sweeping moment, the green lump often found near his most hated enemy became a separate entity, untied to Mario and the legacy of dispute between the kingdoms. Bowser looked across the room into the eyes of a green-clad stranger.

Luigi found himself giving the king a minute nod, almost as though to say: it’s nice to meet you.

Instead of smoke, Bowser huffed out steam. Luigi was intrigued by how quickly the burning red eyes cooled. Was the steam an acknowledgement? A thank you? A threat? He wasn’t sure, but Bowser had seen him and he was seeing Bowser. Not the warlord, the tyrant, the conqueror: Bowser the parent.

The moment shattered when time started moving normally again and Mario lobbed a vicious firehand at the monster’s gut. Fire returning, Bowser’s teeth glittered and snapped at the red hat, catching it just long enough to poke a few new holes before Mario snatched it back. The other koopalings had run all the way around room to meet them on the other side of the landing and Luigi gently tapped Larry’s snout to dislodge the little guy’s beak and teeth from his arm. Red was seeping into the green of his long-sleeve shirt, but he could deal with that later. Setting Larry safely into Roy’s waiting arms, he took a running jump down to the floor of crumbling throne room.

Morton tried to call after him, but Ludwig just watched with narrowed eyes.

Halfway across the room, Luigi recognized the feeling of a building charge. His anger was becoming electricity. His hair was standing on end. Lightning was even crackling across his blue irises and arcing off his fingers.

Mario started in on Bowser with another round of fire-hands but was stopped in his tracks by a lightning bolt that crashed between him and the koopa king. He turned prepared to face a new enemy but was stunned to find that it was a living breathing lightning bolt in the form of his little brother.

“Enough,” Luigi said, despite his own building fear and nervousness, his anger was winning. He was furious with his brother.

“But Weegee, he—”

“I said enough, Mario.” He repeated. “Let’s-a go.”

Mario hesitated. Luigi’s lightning crackled.

“Are you gonna make-a me fight you?” he asked. His big brother tensed.

“I won’t-a fight you, Luigi.”

“Then you’d better get-a moving. Uscire!”

The elder twin briefly seemed distressed that Luigi had his back to Bowser until he realized the king wasn’t even looking at him anymore. Bowser, like him, was staring at Luigi. He didn’t like that.

“Hey! What are you looking at him like that for?!” he said, tightening his fists.

ZAP! Thunk. The red plumber landed like a sack of potatoes. Luigi sighed. Making sure that everyone, including his brother was well out of the way, he expelled the excess electricity. Ow. Somehow that never quite got less painful. He knelt down for a few deep breaths, then got back up and went over to his idiot of a sibling. He hefted Mario over his shoulder, too ashamed to look Bowser in the eyes as he said over his shoulder:

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Chapter Text

An anxious Peach was waiting for them outside their cottage in Toad town. By the time Luigi got there, he felt like the drum major of the oddest parade he’d ever seen in his life. A procession of whispering toads—here it should be noted that the toad version of whispering was most people’s normal indoor voices—had been growing steadily from the moment he’d returned to the kingdom. He pretended not to hear them, but their words grated his sorely tested patience even further.

“Is he dead?”

“What happened?”

“It must have been Bowser.”

“Why didn’t Luigi stop him?”

“Mario probably had to save him in the first place…”

Peach was straining to hold back tears as she met him. “Luigi! Is he—?”

“Inside,” he said and cast a pointed glance over his shoulder at their audience before moving past her and letting himself into the house. He lay his twin on the couch. Peach followed him in and shut door, then she went to the windows and drew the curtains as a bunch of toad faces tried to press against the glass.

“What happened?” She asked.

Luigi’s glare never faded. “I was hoping you knew. One minute I’m in Sarasaland, next thing I know, one of Daisy’s scouts shows up in a panic shouting my brother was headed for the darklands!” It wasn’t a particularly strong lie, but it would do for now, because there was no way in hell he was telling her or Mario how he’d really found out the truth.

She bit her lip a flicker of guilt dancing in her eyes. So, she did know something, or at least suspected.

“Peach, he made you a promise. Why break it? Why now?”

“M-My spies returned from the darklands…”

“Spies?! How long have you had spies—” He stopped and rubbed his aching temples, then shook it off, “You know what, it doesn’t matter. What did they say?”

Her cheeks reddened and her eyes avoided him. “Well, actually, um, they said things were quiet. Quieter than ever, in fact. It didn’t sit well. With Bowser, there’s always something, so—”

“So, you let Mario convince you to send him in.” he read between the lines, thoroughly disappointed in her and his fratello.

“My spies couldn’t deny the possibility of Bowser working on some kind of secret project! We needed to—”

“Start a war?” He spat, bitterly. She bristled and used every inch of her height to tower regally over him.

“I sent him in to find out the truth.”

“You gave him POW blocks!” Luigi seethed.

“To use as a distraction so he could get inside the castle!” She said, sounding both worried and tired, “He shouldn’t have been spotted.”

Luigi scoffed, “You expected him to treat this-a like a stealth mission?! You saw how furious he was with Bowser for hurting you! Did you really think he’d just-a go undercover and let that slide?! You know how much he-a cares about you!”

“I did what I thought was right to protect my people, Luigi, as a ruler—”

“Ugh.” Mario groaned. Peach knelt on the ground at his side in an instant and took his gloved hand in hers.

“Mario.”

Mario’s eyes didn’t open right away. He screwed them shut tighter.

“Mario, can you hear me?”

“Uhhh…princi—principessa…” he groaned. His body felt like it had been used as a punching bag and why was every single one of his muscles on fire?

Luigi went to the medicine cabinet, got a mushroom and threw it to Peach. She caught it and brought it to Mario’s lips. He sniffed, his mustache wiggling, then he tried to push it away with a big ‘yuck.’

“Mario, you need to eat it.”

“Dun like…mushrooms…”

She kissed his cheek and whispered into his ear, “Please, Mario? For me? You only have to chew it three times. I promise.”

He whined like a petulant child, but when she brought it back to his lips, he opened his mouth and she fed it to him. The pain subsided. His eyes fluttered open to the sight of Peach’s sweet, beautiful face leaning worriedly over him. She was so close…only inches away.

Luigi supposed he should be feeling glad they were staring that way—like they hadn’t a care in the world, like the only thing they had or ever could see was each other…but if Luigi was honest with himself, he really wasn’t. Maybe they had no other cares right now, but he did. He turned his back on them and went to start some tea. Hell, tea, coffee, juice, anything to calm himself down…Unfortunately he didn’t quite make it as far the kitchen.

“Luigi!” Mario exclaimed. The elder twin got up, lifted Peach off the ground, set her on the couch, then rushed over to him. Luigi’s glare stopped him mid-approach. “Lu?”

“Don’t, Mario. Just don’t touch me right now.”

Mario’s blue eyes melted from shock to confusion and then anger, “Bowser! Fratello, what happened? We were talking and then—I can’t remember! Did he hurt you? How did you—how did we escape?”

“He let us go.”

“What? Lu he wouldn’t just—”

“And he never lay a finger on me,” Luigi said, flatly.

Both Peach and Mario’s eyes widened slightly hearing that, but the princess took in stride, deciding she’d rather have the story fresh out the yoshi’s mouth.

“I gather from Luigi that your intel-gathering stealth mission largely failed, then?” She asked, frowning.

At least Mario had the decency to look ashamed. He held his hat in his hands.

“Mi dispiace, principessa. I was spotted in the woods before I even-a reached the castle! I didn’t realize Bowser’s troops were scouting so far from—” he noticed the way Lu was glaring at him. He could hardly fail to notice. His little brother looked furious. “What is-a your problem?!”

“My problem?! MY problem?!” Luigi was really struggling to keep a handle on the static threatening to build on his gloves. “My brother is an idiota! Un imbecille!”

“I was-a spotted in the forest! What else could I have-a done?!” Mario shouted, his mustache twitching angrily like it was charging up about to fly right off his face.

“You should have left! Right-a then and there!” Luigi shouted back. “But-a no! Of course-a not! Because Mr.-a Mushroom Hero has to-a go and start a war!”

“Like he’s hasn’t done the same to us! He leveled most of-a toad town last year, in case you forgot!”

“Of-a course I didn’t forget! But you’re supposed to be-a better than he is! You call-a yourself a hero!” he spat, his fists so tight he could hardly feel his fingers.

“Both of you, calm down.” Peach urged, coming between them. Mario glared up over her shoulder into Lu’s burning eyes.

“We are heroes, Lu.” He said, “We have to protect this kingdom from that monster.”

“He’s no more a monster than you are.” Luigi could hardly believe that was his voice speaking, low and furious. He could hardly even convince himself this was what they’d come to. Mario was looking at Luigi like the younger twin had run him through with sword. Agonized betrayal quickly becoming fury.

“He melted an entire kingdom!”

“You hurt his children.” He felt lighter than air as the words left him, then heavier than lead as they sunk into his stomach like a stone.

“Che sciocchezze stai dicendo?” Mario grumbled, face lined with defiance, “Children! What children?! He was trying to-a force Peach to marry him, he doesn’t have any—” he’d turned to her expecting support and agreement and found only terror. Luigi was looking at him full of reproach and righteous ire.

“He has eight bambini, Mario! Eight of them! You fight them all-a the time! You hurt them constantly! You left Morton in that-a castle outpost to die!”

Morton? He hadn’t heard that name in while and when he had, he couldn’t remember having heard it before…but it was important, because it was back at the start of all of this. Back at his promise to the principessa…

‘Morton almost died.’

The gray koopa. The second biggest of the eight generals always slowing him down whenever he tried to rescue Peach.

…

Eight.

…

…

Eight generals…Eight bambini…

“Bowser’s eight generals are bambini?! Bowser’s bambini?!”

Luigi would have laughed if he had the strength, but all good spirits were long gone. His anger was all that was left and he was too exhausted to do anything more trudge over to put the kettle on. He needed a hot cup of tea more than ever. “You are such an idiota,” he whispered. Turning to level his twin with a razor-sharp glare, he confessed his greatest fear, “Your recklessness may plunge us into war.”

“You seemed to think so earlier, too.” Peach noted, she was gently holding Mario’s shoulders as the red plumber overtly struggled with his own emotions. “Why?”

“Mario,” he called, waiting until his brother’s hollow stare found him before continuing, “Why there?”

Mario didn’t understand at first, not until Luigi’s fists started shaking. Oh, Lu meant—

“The POW blocks?”

Lu gave a single nod.

He had a feeling from the way his brother was looking at him that he’d made a severe error in judgement. Those eyes promised he was going to hate himself even more than he already did right now, though that felt nearly impossible. All this time he’d been fighting bambini! And he hadn’t even cared if they got hurt. Hadn’t even ever bothered to ask himself if they might be unable to make it safely home! Mamma mia, he’d been striking them! With his fists! Mama would disown him if she knew…

“Mario!” Luigi clapped to get his attention and it worked. He looked up. “Why-a there?”

“I—I thought he was up to something!” Mario whined, trying to defend himself, but his excuses sounded weak even to his own ears, “I was sure he’d been waiting, scheming, making something to use against us! He—he’s-a obvious whenever he has-a something to hide…he always puts the most guards around them. Like he does when he-a kidnaps the principessa! I—I—” Suddenly, he could no longer bear to look at either of them, “I set the POW blocks to go off where the-a troops were thickest…”

Peach’s gloved hand flew to her mouth. “B-but…if Bowser was worried about his family, then—”

“You set them off right under their-a feet.” Luigi finished, his face drawn and grim. The dim light without the sun coming through the curtains made him look peculiarly gaunt.

Mario was barely biting back tears of remorse. He was living a nightmare. His own worst fears come manifest. He’d failed. His attempt to protect his family, his loved ones, his home…and what had he done? He’d practically sealed their fate. Oh stars, how—how could he ever hope to fix this?! How many people would get hurt now because of him?! How many homes would be lost? Lives torn asunder… Families ripped apart? How many kingdoms would fall because of his stupidity? What could he do? He felt powerless. For the first time in a long time completely and utterly powerless. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He tried, but no air seemed to be enough. Couldn’t…breathe…

“Mario!” Peach cried, dropping to her knees as the plumber crumpled, his entire body shaking worse than a leaf in autumn. “Mario, what’s wrong?” he didn’t respond, he seemed to be gasping for air. “What’s going on? Please! How do I,” she turned to his brother, “Luigi! Luigi, what’s happening to him?!” her voice was frantic. Luigi, on the other hand was cold as ice.

“Panic attack.”

“What do we do?”

Luigi didn’t answer, just came over to them. When he grabbed one of Mario’s arms, she did the same on his brother’s other side. He frowned. She glared.

“I want to help him, Luigi. Tell me what to do!”

Funny. She acted more like a princess now than earlier. Her head up, shoulders back, brimming with determination. Who was Luigi to deny her anything? Especially the ability to care for the ones she held dearest? Who, indeed…the younger twin reflected, acidly.

“Mario. Mario, we’re here.”

“Lu! Lu—c-c-can’t—bre—”

“With us. We’re here for you. In…and out. In…and out.”

After that, Peach took over. Luigi was more than fine with letting her. Mario was still his brother, but he was really, really struggling not to let the anger get the best of him. He was just like the kettle on the stove. Brimming with rage. Rage he knew it was better not to act on. Mario was all the family he had left in the world. He couldn't burn all the bridges and just let that go. He cared too much. But if Mario ever did something like this again...he tensed and shook that thought away. He didn't want to think about it.

Peach was doing very well considering she'd never seen one of Mario's panic attacks before. Her authoritative air seemed to be helping, too. Luigi supposed that living with toads, who were quite possibly the most panicky creatures Luigi had ever met, with the exception of himself, Peach had probably had a fair amount of practice with similar circumstances.

A few minutes later, Mario was slowly returning to himself.

“P-Principessa…” he whined, choking on a sob, “I’m—I’mma so sorry! I—I’mma supposed to protect you and-a the kingdom, but—”

“Hush now,” She pulled him into a tight hug, tucking his head under her chin. “I forgive you.”

That made him sob even more. “I don’t-a deserve forgiveness! Bowser will—”

“Luigi.”

He was pouring hot tea into his favorite green mug. “Si?”

“How much damage was done?”

“The entire royal wing seemed, from what I could tell, a total loss. Most of the bedrooms, the throne room and the great halls were nearly destroyed. The east wing was less affected, but I saw civilians and servants being evacuated by troopas.” He reported.

“And the koopalings?”

“A few close calls, but thankfully no life-threatening injuries. I heard one of them saying that Kammy was hurt.”

She took that news with a long face. “That’s not good. Kammy and Kamek are the closest thing to parents he has. Any idea how severe the injuries were?”

Luigi shook his head side to side, the news that Kammy and Kamek were like parents to Bowser wasn’t exactly a revelation—after all, the way Daisy had described their interactions during her early encounters with the koopa king had suggested as much—but hearing it said outright still made his chest ache. If only he could have been there sooner, done more…

“You really think,” Mario struggled, gulping hard, “there could be war?” Neither answered. He tensed. “So, what now?”

“We prepare for war.” Luigi said, not looking his brother in the eyes.

“Toadsworth once told me: In times of peace, never forget the possibility of war.”

“That attitude is precisely what landed us here,” the younger twin reflected, bitterly. Peach held up a hand and halted his anger in its tracks.

“And in times of war, never forget compassion.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Luigi ran a hand through his curly hair as he turned his back on them both. “I’m not the one who needs reminding of that.” He went to the kitchen counter and slowly sipped his tea.

“Lu…” Mario’s footsteps were getting nearer. Luigi set down the teacup. “Luigi, I—”

“Don’t. Just…” he struggled. Mario was kind enough to wait for him to get the words out. “I can’t-a do this right now, Mario. I’m—I’m-a too angry.”

“With-a me,” the older twin said softly.

“Si. With-a you.”

They lapsed into awkward silence. What Luigi needed, what he wanted more than anything in that moment was—

“Where you gonna go?” Mario whispered. Funny how the twin thing worked best at times like this. He hadn’t even needed to finish thinking it. Mario knew.

He shrugged, thinking it over. “Sarasaland.”

Seemed like Mario was okay with that.

“Maybe I’ll-a finally finish cleaning out my-a mansion in the valley.”

Mario liked this option less and it showed. Luigi sighed. “Mario, I just can’t-a be near you right now.”

“I know, I just—” the red plumber struggled, “Lu, you know I—”

“I know. I’m still-a furious with you, but I always-a know.”

“Okie dokie,” Mario said, forcing a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Please…send word. You know, when you get there safe.”

“I always-a do.” He cast a very serious look at his elder sibling, “If you really want-a to be a hero, you can start by avoiding a full-scale-a military conflict.”

“But how?”

“It’s your war, fratello. You figure it out.” He set his teacup in the sink, washed his hands and left without another word.

Mario’s world was on the brink of crumbling to smithereens. He watched his brother leave without once looking back and knew he had a lot of work to do if he ever wanted to look Lu in the eyes again.

Chapter Text

“DAD!” Iggy chased after his father, who had Kammy—as of her release yesterday—practically attached at the hip. She was on ‘light duties’ and king Dad was making sure she didn’t overtax herself. Larry perked up from where he was riding atop the king’s shoulders, excited to hear one of his siblings’ voices. He’d been stuck up there for hours now. He hadn’t really minded at first. He’d even gotten some sleep, but now he wanted to get down. Bowser, however, refused to let the little guy out of sight, still shaken from the ordeal in the throne room.

“Dad!”

Bowser was being mobbed by people who needed his attention: A healer requesting additional supplies from the stockpile which he immediately sanctioned. A repair crew foreman lamenting lack of workers—recruit volunteers from his army and yes, they’d receive bonus pay. Hammer bros needed additional supplies that they simply did not have, ugh, that was a tough one. The shy guy captain reported that the mushroom kingdom troops were gathering, but that there had, as yet, been no movement, thank goodness for small favors. A magikoopa representative, one of Kamek’s half-dozen lackeys, reported that all magical support that could be done to prevent the rest of the castle from falling had been done. At least that had gotten done right. And finally, repair foreman for the royal wing, great…No, a simple repair would not be good enough! He needed to be sure this could never happen aga—

“Dad!” Iggy called again, trying his best to peek out through the mess of folks surrounding the king.

“Iggy, now’s a really bad—”

“But I have something to help with the reinforcement on the royal wing!” he cried, his tail swishing excitedly back and forth, even in the dour circumstances. Bowser’s thickly muscled arms reached through the crowd and plucked the green-haired koopaling up by the shell.

“Iggy, if this is another experiment—” that tentative look said it definitely was. Bowser sighed. “We’ve been over this, kiddo. Experiments must be thoroughly tested before—”

“I know, Dad, I know, but that’s just the thing! It is tested!” Iggy brought out his wand and raised it up. A bubble containing some thick sludgy mortar-looking substance was spinning around inside. “See, I originally developed this stuff as a trap for Mario. You know shoot it at him with a cannon and: Bang! Stuck Mario. Can’t get out ‘cuz this stuff is super solid once heated above a certain threshold! Like un-breakable solid! But-uh-turns out the cannon’s initial blast generated sufficient heat to just kinda stop the whole thing up. So, when I fired it again, the whole thing exploded from the pressure!”

“Iggy, you have fifteen seconds to explain to me why this matters.”

“Because it still retained the shape of the cannon! The cannon blew up, but the thing stayed rock solid. Here!” he summoned another sphere and only the substance inside was solid and this one had a distinctly cannon-barrel shape to it. The royal repair foreman took interest now.

“But that means it can absorb high amounts of energy without structural damage! How does it fare against the elements?”

“Here’s one I threw in the lava river three months ago.” Iggy produced another hardened sample, then a few more. “And I tossed this one in the stream through Dimble Woods and this one in Bubble Lake. This one was laying out on the lava fields and that one there has been in the dry dry desert being whipped by sandstorms.”

“Amazing!” the foreman gushed, “There’s so little degradation! This super mortar is just what we needed!”

Iggy beamed, tail wagging happily, until Bowser’s arm brought them eye to eye once again and he saw dad’s serious face.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” His son nodded emphatically, and he let out a relieved sigh, setting the kid firmly on the ground and taking Iggy by the shoulder with a very tired smile. “Good, go show the foreman your formulas or whatever junk you need to get it made. On the double, much as you can. Think you can handle this thing from here on out?”

The young inventor hesitated, but only for a moment. “I might need Lemmy’s help.”

“Get him, tell him he’s working with you on this from now on. Anything else?”

“Yeah, ectoplasm.”

Bowser sincerely wished he’d heard that wrong. “Ectoplasm? As in—”

“Ghosts, yes. It’s key to creating the unusual binding properties. Probably a few barrels would satisfy.”

Great, just what he needed, to curry favor with his least favorite and most unruly fellow king and darklands resident…but Iggy and the foreman were staring expectantly at him, so he had very little choice but to—

“Your majesty!” some troopas exclaimed, flying over from the direction of the gates.

“What now?” he asked.

“A massive ship has entered our airspace on a course for the castle! They’re moving at a fast clip and should be arriving soon! We flew in to report the second we saw them, but they’re really quick!” said the head troopa wearing a little hat.

“WHAT?!” Not now. They needed time—they couldn’t withstand another assault, much less one from the air. “Iggy, go and get your siblings somewhere safe!”

Iggy, infuriatingly, did nothing of the kind.

“Iggy, I said—”

“Like where?” Iggy asked, dully. “Is anywhere safe anymore?”

Trying to ignore that the words sank like needles into the tender flesh of his heart, Bowser turned back to the troopas.

“Whose ship is it? Do they fly a flag?”

“Yes sir! An orange one with a white flower on it!”

But that would mean…a long shadow covered them. Bowser closed his eyes, took a deep breath and turned. They weren’t kidding. That ship was massive enough to rival his own. Its shadow lengthened as it grew nearer. At most, they had ten, maybe fifteen minutes before it landed. Trajectory and how low it was currently flying suggested it would touch down somewhere near the outermost city gates. He descended the front steps of his castle and started down the main road.

Whatever this was about, he’d meet them head on. All through the koopa capital, faces poked out of the houses or peeked out the windows. He heard at least two pairs of fast-running feet racing after him, Iggy probably and likely one or two of the others as well. Larry whined in distress, reminding the king that his second youngest was with him. He pulled the blue-haired koopaling down and turned. Ludwig and Lemmy had also come running. He tried to hand his little guy over to the eldest, but suddenly Larry wouldn’t go.

“Larry,” he cooed. Larry’s head shook side to side, and he pushed Ludwig’s reaching hands away.

‘Don’t leave,’ the second-youngest chirped.

“I have to go speak with them.”

‘No! They’ll try to take you away from us! Don’t go!’

“Larry, I have to. I can’t let them attack us again. There are lives at stake.” He carded his massive thumb through Larry’s hair and nuzzled the kid with his beak.

‘No.’ Larry was tearing up. There was so much fear in those blue eyes it made Bowser’s chest hurt. He carried the little koopaling in his arms until they reached the gates, then handed the squirming and scratching kid off to a nervous Ludwig. Lemmy had climbed up Iggy’s shell and was nervously clinging to green hair.

The landing ship kicked up a wall of gray dust and through it stepped a familiar brunette in an orange dress. Kammy’s wand softly glowed, but he’d no idea whether the spell was defense or offense. Hopefully they wouldn’t need to find out, but with every step his dread increased. Mario had struck the first blow. Were they sending Daisy to end his rule once and for all?

She continued to approach until Kammy growled and a pink shield materialized between them.

“Bowser…” the sarasaland princess called softly, “We came as soon as we heard.”

“Why? Keen to finish me off?” he growled.

“No. We’re here to help you rebuild.”

Bitterly, he scoffed, “We don’t need your help.”

“You mean you’re too proud to take it.” She clapped back, eyes narrowing, “You didn’t deserve what happened.”

“How would you know?”

“The allied kingdoms always take interest when your conquering efforts go quiet.”

He just bet they did. Nosy bastards.

“Daisy, my dear,” A second princess floated softly over to them, her long light-blue sleeves repeatedly falling down over her hands. When she reached for Daisy, however, they fell back and Bowser caught a twinkle of light reflecting off a ring on a most telling finger. Sensing his gaze, she turned and offered him a little bow. “King Bowser.”

“Rosalina,” he nodded back. He hadn’t seen her since he’d tried to marry peaches last year.

“My Lumas returned from the other rulers. Trade with the mushroom kingdom has been halted until the princess and her champion agree to appear before them. They will face severe punishment.”

“Huh,” Bowser scoffed again. “Yeah right. In case you haven’t noticed, I ain’t part of your little club.”

“No, but Peach’s kingdom is and under the agreement attacking another kingdom without provocation is grounds for expulsion.”

“Why should they take our side? Like they’d ever believe what we have to say.”

Ludwig and the other koopalings came a little closer, leaving the city gates. Rosa noticed at once, but Daisy was focused on Bowser and his belligerent expression. She stepped up to him and tilted her face to look up into his eyes.

“Luigi made an official statement.”

Luigi. He’d heard the name plenty of times before, though he’d never bothered to remember it. Now…Electric blue eyes. The silhouette of that dark green skirt fluttering in midair. A blast of lightning. Mario slumping to the ground from a single hit and ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

“He’ll be popular once word gets ‘round.” He remarked sarcastically.

Daisy’s fists curled. “I’ve granted him emergency citizenship. He’s under my protection.”

The king of the koopas had nothing to say to that. He was too busy considering what he’d learned. For now, the alliance believed green but who’s to say what they’d think after Peaches and Mario’d had their say. He couldn’t trust them. He glanced behind the princesses at the massive ship. Daisy noticed and bellowed loudly:

“LET’S GET A MOVE ON! START UNLOADING!”

“Yes, Princess!” some Tokotokos grunted back, hefting pallets full of dark bricks, metal beams, bonding agents, tools, and even lumber.

Bowser advanced a step, growling. “I told you, we won’t—”

“On the authority of the four kingdoms, I am bound to deliver these supplies as a token of good faith,” Daisy easily recited.

“I didn’t ask for handouts.”

“Regardless, they’ve been given. If you let us help you, we can have things back to rights in no time.” She said, glaring.

Kammy raised her wand and waved it over the first few stacks of supplies. Hmm. “Your spikiness, I sense no tricks or spells at work. Everything appears to be of the highest quality.”

“Fine.” Bowser snarled, red eyes burning into Daisy’s.

A twinkling kind of noise drew attention back to the watcher of the stars. A blue luma had appeared and was whispering into her ear with its small childish voice. “Oh,” she exclaimed. Her eyes widened a little and her lips rubbed together. Gently sliding her partner aside, she stood before the king.

“King Bowser, it would seem the rulers of the allied kingdoms have agreed to extend interim membership to the dark lands.” He growled again, but she went on, “After the initial period is over, assuming an agreement has been reached, your kingdom will—”

“No.”

Rosa’s mouth closed, then after a moment of silence, she opened it again. “Bowser, the alliance is trying to—”

“Screw your alliance! They couldn’t stop Mario from destroying half my castle!” he roared, deciding this conversation was pointless. He started to walk away.

Daisy came to her fiancée’s defense.

“Maybe not, but by refusing to join you’re passing up the opportunity to have a say in how he’s punished!”

As if. They wouldn’t let him have anything to do with that if they had half a brain between them. He kept walking.

“Bowser, you’re walking away from what might be your only chance at peace!” Daisy said, emotion finally getting the better of her. “How can you do that to your people—to your children?!”

“Leave them out of this,” he warned. No. She wouldn’t. She could tell she was finally getting through.

“Under the alliance, they’ll be safe.”

He stopped mid-step, his head turning to bark over one shoulder, “I’m listening.”

“An attack against an alliance monarch or their family is grounds for war. Not just between that kingdom and the aggressor, but all the other allied kingdoms as well. Unfortunately, it can’t be applied retroactively,” she pointed out. “But in future no one would dare harm them.”

Bowser frowned. He could certainly still think of a handful of sorry SOBs crazy enough to try. However, having at least six kingdoms gunning for them was a stiff deterrent that narrowed it down from at least a dozen to a pool of five or so. Sure, he’d be gaining a bunch of allies, but he’d also be blowing fire in the faces of several long-standing ones…

“You know what she would want.” Daisy’s voice shook.

Tension crawled up Bowser’s spine and across his golden scaled arms. She…his jaw clenched, and his eyelids screwed shut. Her face was there to greet him. His throat was tight and his voice raw as he finally turned to face them again.

“Fine. Tell your little friends I’ll accept the interim distinction. Once this mess has been cleared up, I’ll make my final decision.”

Rosalina nodded. Currently, that was the best they could hope for. She passed a more official version on to her Luma and the little star zipped off to relay the message to the other rulers. Ludwig passed Larry to Iggy and tentatively wandered toward them, his mind spinning. Luigi had gone to the allied rulers, Sarasaland had sent supplies, they’d been invited to join the alliance on a temporary basis and father had just accepted—it was a lot to process after everything else that had already happened.

“Aunt Daisy?” he asked, finally close enough that he could really take her in. It had been nearly six years since he’d last seen her. She looked older, though not by much. Her face turned, her eyes lighting up when they landed on him.

“Ludwig!” She cried with an enormous smile, rushing over and hugging him tight. When he jumped and wriggled away though, she immediately gave him space. “Oh, my stars! You’ve grown so big!”

Bowser’s hands were on his hips. His claws tapping impatiently, his nerves frayed. Eager to distract her from his brood, he searched his mind and spat out the first thing he could think of.

“Don’t suppose you brought ectoplasm?”

“Ectoplasm?” She echoed, turning away from Ludwig, which to Bowser was a win, and looked at him like she doubted his fitness. “You hit your head or something?”

To her surprise, Iggy—balancing Lemmy and Larry, one on each shoulder—piped up.

“No, Dad’s fine. We need it for super mortar.”

Grr. No. He hadn’t meant for more of them to end up talking to her…

“Would you relax, Bowser? I’m not going to hurt them, and you know it.” Daisy shot out, her words stinging like a slap to the face.

Whatever. He still didn’t like it.

While their father pouted like a petulant child, Iggy went over and explained the super mortar he’d developed to Ludwig and the princess. Larry decided his green-shelled brother had gotten far too close for comfort and crawled down, covertly dashing away into his father’s waiting arms. Bowser gladly scooped him up and hugged him tight against his plastron. Ludwig frowned when Iggy finished.

“What’s that have to do with ectoplasm?”

“It’s a key part of the formula. Without it, the mixture isn’t nearly as good at binding things together. I told Dad a few barrels of the stuff oughta be enough.”

“Uh-huh,” Bowser confirmed, staring over the top of Larry's hair and lobbing a smug smirk at Daisy, “So, princess, you got three or four barrels of ectoplasm layin’ around?”

Her brows drew close together and her finger pulled on her bottom lip. Then she snapped her fingers and shot him a confident smirk of her own.

“No,” she shook her head. The smirk stretched slowly into a smile, “but I know where we can get some.”

“I’ll go with you.” Ludwig said, confidently.

“What?! No.” Bowser countered, stomping over to loom over the blue-haired koopaling. Ludwig’s eyes rolled.

“Dad, having a royal representative present for the acquisition of materials from other kingdoms is standard practice,” the teenager pointed out. “You sent me to pick up that supply of fuses from King Bob-omb last summer!”

“That was different. He’s our ally.”

“She’s our ally now, too. You just said so.”

The only thing he hated about having such smart kids was how hard it was to argue with them. They had a way of making very salient points. Red eyes burned into Daisy.

“How long will it take?”

“Well, my ship’s still being unloaded. If you lend us a clown car…couple hours?”

“Kamek!” Bowser called. Kammy made an affronted noise tapping his surliness indignantly with her wand.

“What?! Don’t send him! I’ll go with them!”

“Light duty.” The king ground out between his teeth.

“HMPH!” She crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at him.

“Just what is going on out here, your stubbornness?” Kamek asked, looking from the abundance of new supplies to the princesses, the koopalings, and then his king.

“Daisy’s kingdom has sent us supplies, and we’ve taken temporary membership in the royal alliance.”

“We’ve WHAT?!” Kamek’s beak curled.

“Escort Daisy and Ludwig to my clown car. You will accompany them in the acquisition of materials.”

“But-but-but—” the old magikoopa’s mouth flopped open and closed like a fish.

“Keep them safe.” Bowser said, seriously.

Kamek rolled his eyes, a teleportation spell already at the tip of his wand. “Oh, very well.” POOF!

The first few minutes of the flight were spent in terribly tense silence. Daisy was driving. It was pretty much just like a cart…that also went up and down. Ludwig noticed the course they were taking pretty quickly and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Why would you volunteer to get the stuff if we’re just going to Boo’s domain? He already doesn’t like the living very much, but he likes human’s even less.”

“Who said we were asking Boo for anything?” She smirked again, both eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Boo won’t like it.”

“Trust me, we don’t have to worry about him.”

“Why not?” Ludwig didn’t understand how she could be so certain. Boo always gave dad a hard time, so why should this be any different?

“Oh, he’s been locked up for, hmm—six months or so now?” She stroked her chin with one hand as though struggling to recall for certain. “He kidnapped Mario and started making trouble for Lu again. Honestly, you think the dumb marshmallow would’ve learnt by now.”

“Lu…as in—”

“Luigi!” she smiled and nodded, but her face quickly fell upon seeing the uncertainty in the koopaling’s eyes. “I was there, know, when your letter arrived.” She looked out across the landscape. She didn’t think she could stomach much more of this heavy atmosphere. She barely managed to paint on a smile, “We were trying to plan the wedding.” Rosie would be fine in the koopa kingdom until she got back, but already, she was wishing her beautiful blonde was still beside her…what was that sound? Was that a growl? If so it was a very, very mild one, but—ah. A quick look confirmed a very displeased Ludwig.

“You’re marrying Luigi? He never said—”

“What?! No! Stars no! Lu is my best friend! He’s going to be my best man!”

“Oh.” Ludwig wasn’t really sure what to think. He wasn’t really sure why the idea of Luigi marrying Daisy even bothered him so much in the first place. It wasn’t because Luigi being married would mean the human would have even less time to discuss things like music or teach them strange human sports like bocce—no. That would be silly. Especially since they might never be able to do those things again anyway…

“Who are you marrying?” he wondered aloud. “Do I know them?”

Daisy laughed, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Well, you weren’t exactly introduced earlier, but you did meet her.”

“The star watcher?” It was easy to slip back into familiarity with his aunt, despite not seeing her since he was ten. “She’s very pretty. Is she nice?”

“She’s the nicest person in the whole world.”

“Hmm. I’ll reserve judgement on that.”

That made her laugh and Ludwig found himself smiling along. Kamek peered down his beak through his spectacles at them.

“A very advantageous match,” he commented. Daisy scoffed.

“Dumb luck, that’s all. I’d still have fallen in love with her even if she weren’t a princess.”

“My sincerest congratulations,” Kamek said. The way the old magikoopa’s voice shook made it obvious he meant every word, “Love is a wonderful thing.”

They hadn’t spoken like this in a long time. Not since…

“Kamek…” she lowered her voice and glanced back at the wizened wizard. “How is he?”

“You saw for yourself less than an hour ago,” came the weary answer.

“Yes, but,” she bit her lip, “I don’t see what you see.”

“Few others do,” Kamek sighed. “He is strong for his children’s sake. That has not changed.”

“But—” She dared ask the question, “What about Peach? Was he even serious?”

Kamek wanted to snap that yes, of course his son had been serious, but now, looking back…

“He was infatuated. I’m not sure when or how it started, but anything was better than seeing him…”

“That’s why we tried to help,” Ludwig whispered. Both adults stared at him. “I mean, the little ones, Junior, Larry, Morton—they just wanted a mother. But I—” he swallowed, thickly, “It was good to see Dad starting to be himself again.”

“Ludwig…” Kamek felt as though a fist were squeezing his beating heart.

Daisy was similarly affected, but when she glanced back down below them, she abruptly realized they were almost there. She could see that familiar old haunted house.

“Ah. Um, Ludwig, you think you could take over? I managed take-off and flight, but I’m not sure I’ve got what it takes to land this thing just yet.”

“Sure. Where—”

“Set us down over there by those trees. I think Lu said E. Gadd’s lab is somewhere in there.”

Ludwig did as Daisy directed, landing with a soft thump.

“E. Gadd?” Ludwig asked at the same time Kamek fretted.

“Somewhere?! You mean to say you don’t even know where you’re—” They’d already finished landing. So why was there a metallic banging sound from over—

A very bright light was waving about between the trees. They hopped out of the car and the shaky light hastened toward them.

“H-hello?” asked a very familiar squeaky voice.

“Lu!” Daisy exclaimed, jumping out at him from behind the trees.

He shrieked and his body locked up as she sprang a hug on him. She noted the thick veil of sweat on his forehead and gave him a little shake.

“Lu, you okay?”

“D-Dai, please don’t scare me like that…it’s been bad enough with the boos acting up and—” blue eyes found Ludwig and Kamek over her shoulder. “What’s going on? Are Mario and Peach doing something stupid again?! If they’ve gone and actually started a war—” it was like the terror he’d displayed just moments before hadn’t even happened. There was only anger now. Electricity crackled around him.

“No, no, Lu, calm down! Nothing like that! We were actually hoping to speak to your funny little professor friend!”

“E. Gadd? Yeah, he’s—” the man grit his teeth, the charge still crackling on his fist, “Sorry, one sec.” he went to one of the dead trees and pressed his gloved palm against it, doubling over as the excess electricity left him. Daisy worriedly went to help him, but she was rudely shoved aside by Ludwig who rushed past her.

Luigi smiled sweetly at the teen, thanking him as he tried to laugh it off. “I told you, piccolo, my magic is-a not so easy to handle.”

“It wasn’t this bad last time.” Ludwig pointed out.

“I’ve been-a using it too much lately.”

Kamek snorted. “It harms you because you are not using it properly.”

Ludwig and Luigi both stared. Kamek didn’t like the look on the prince’s face. He could already tell what was coming next.

“You mean you could help him learn so it doesn’t hurt him?”

“I have no reason to.” The magikoopa growled and that, for now, was the end of it.

Luigi remembered where he’d been forced to cut himself off earlier and quickly resumed.

“E. Gadd’s lab is right this-a way!” He led them through the trees. He was wearing a funny looking backpack type thing with a nozzle/flashlight attached to it that he waved around in front of him.

“What’s your weird backpack for?” Ludwig asked, ever curious.

“Oh,” Luigi chuckled nervously, “It’s-a my poltergust. I’ve been-a cleaning out my mansion over there,” he gestured the direction of the big house they’d parked fairly close to.

“That place is yours?” Ludwig marveled. He'd never really thought about either Mario brother owning their own property...

“One of them, si. I have two or three. This one is-a my favorite.” They stopped at a structure that looked like a mausoleum, but on further inspection had a vault style door. Huh. Luigi started to pull it open when a white blur sprang out and tackled him to the leafy forest floor.

“ARF! ARF!”

“Doggy, now is-a not a time to—okay! Okay!” Luigi raised his hands, giggling madly as he was mauled with affectionate licks. Ludwig had never seen a ghost that wasn’t a boo before. He knew they existed, he’d just never seen one. And he’d never read about a ghost dog before…The dog got off Luigi and came to sniff him.

“Um…hello.” He said, not really sure what he should do. The dog barked happily, wagging its tail. He smiled. “Okay, I admit, you’re pretty cute.”

Polterpup barked with delight, doing a few playful lunges and then jumping up to put his two front paws on Luddy’s shoulders so he could lick the koopaling’s face.

“Wha—hey! Ew! It’s cold! That tickles!”

Kamek floated forward on his broom and sternly intoned: “Down, you mutt!”

“Arf!” Polterpup lay down and rolled over.

Kamek’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses, but there was a smile on his lips. “Good boy.”

“Mi dispiace, I am-a still working on his training.” Luigi had gotten up and was holding the door open for them. They went inside.

Ludwig was immediately reminded of Iggy’s lab back home. There were buttons and flashing dials and nearly a hundred flasks, test-tubes and oddly colored liquids on display…

“Professore!” Luigi called. “We have-a guests!”

“Guests?” Some shuffling could be heard and then a little old man came hobbling around the corner with a walking stick. “Oh! Hello!”

This was the oldest human Ludwig had ever seen in his life. Did all humans get hunched over and spotty? He wondered. Or was that just this one? The professor seemed jolly enough but for some reason, he made Ludwig a little nervous.

“Why, you look like a strong young lad! Fancy a poltergust of your own? I could always use more help with my research!”

Luigi came between them, fire burning in those blue irises. “Oh no you-a don’t! You’re not turning anyone else into ghost hunters, E. Gadd. Besides, he’s-a just a kid.”

“Oh, but that’s even better, Luigi! He can carry on the research after you and I are gone!” E. Gadd chuckled. Luigi was not having it.

“Maybe you should ask my brother,” Ludwig quipped, slightly unnerved by the way the old man’s glasses glinted.

“Should I? How do I contact him?”

“Uh…”

“No, E. Gadd. They’re not-a here for that.”

“Well, like I told you, Luigi, that boo-blocker for your mansion will take me another day or two! There’s no rushing genius!”

“Actually, gramps,” Daisy cut in before a long soliloquy on true genius could begin. She’d heard enough about them from Luigi to know she would bored out of her mind, “We need ectoplasm. Three or four good sized barrels of it. You wouldn’t happen to—”

“Is that all? Might I ask what you need it for?”

“My brother needs it to make super mortar.”

“Super mortar, you say? In what way is this mortar ‘super’?” E. Gadd was intrigued.

“Professore, they have a castle to rebuild, please—”

“Let the lad, answer, Luigi. This is science we’re talking about!”

Luigi sighed. Ludwig shot the man a sideways glance and the green plumber nodded. So he went ahead and explained what he could still remember of Iggy’s description. E. Gadd was delighted.

“I tell you what! I'll make you a deal. I can send you home with five barrels of ectoplasm—”

Ludwig’s eyes lit up, but the old man held up a finger to signal he wasn’t done and the teen shifted nervously.

“But in return I should very much like a copy of your brother’s instructions for making this super-mortar.”

Iggy wasn't going to like that very much, but Luddy had a feeling the old man would settle for nothing less. Only problem was—

“We don’t have it with us.”

“That’s fine, fine! Not a problem at all!” The old man’s smile was pleased as punch. “Just take the dog! You can send him back with the papers. He always finds his way back to Luigi! Heheheheh!”

“And the ectoplasm?” Luigi asked, shrewdly.

“Ah, yes, the ectoplasm!” E. Gadd pushed a button and a section of the wall opened to reveal an enormous tank full of the slimey gooey stuff. Blegh. “The tank systems regularly collect the excess to keep from getting clogged up with the stuff! Hmm,” he ruffled around pressing a few more buttons. “I’ve probably got some barrels around here somewhere…aha! These will do!” he hobbled through his storage area and found some great metal ones. He hit them with his cane, “Luigi!”

“Yes, Professore, I’ve-a got it!” Luigi shed the poltergust and began rolling the empty barrels over to the ectoplasm tank. E. Gadd opened up the first then stared up at the tap which was far too high for him to reach.

Ludwig flicked his wand and it opened, the clear, sticky substance oozing out slower than he’d hoped. They might be here a while…

E. Gadd happily went back to work on Luigi’s ‘boo-blocker,’ whatever that was, and Ludwig was kinda glad. The old man was a bit frightening. When the first barrel was full, Ludwig closed the tap, Daisy sealed the barrel and Luigi slid it aside. Kamek queued the next barrel up and Ludwig opened the tap again.

“Not turning anyone else into ghost hunters, huh?” Ludwig asked while they waited, casting the green plumber with a very thoughtful look. “You’re a ghost hunter?”

“Not by-a choice, piccolo.”

Ludwig anxiously chewed his lip, trying to find the best words for everything he’d been wanting to say since Luigi dragged Mario off less than twenty-four hours ago…

“I’m sorry.”

“Wha—why—”

“P-please, let me finish.” He waited until Luigi’s mouth closed before he continued, “I—I never thanked you. You saved three of them this time…you even stopped Mario. I—I—” he choked on the tears.

Luigi’s arms wrapped around him. In front of them, listening closely to their entire exchange, Kamek and Daisy stared as the eldest koopaling melted in the human’s embrace.

“I didn’t think you c-could do it! I-I called you weak!” Ludwig sobbed, “and you still—you saved them! You—you saved me!”

“Piccolo,” Luigi tried to offer comforting words, but Ludwig wouldn’t hear it.

“No! You did! I could have b-burned to death because I was so f-focused on f-finding everyone…You saved my life.”

Luigi couldn’t stand the poor child sobbing his heart out like this. He tucked Ludwig’s face against his neck and murmured, “Easy-a now. I was only able to do-a all of those things because you-a put your faith in me. Shhhhh, that’s it. It's-a okie dokie, piccolo. Everything’s-a going to be alright.”

“Mario almost destroyed everything! They could have died! They could have—”

Luigi squeezed tighter and hummed some more until eventually Ludwig’s outcries quieted and the tears slowed. He knew his humming wasn’t perfect and he didn’t even know if Ludwig had opened Nona’s book of operas yet. Hell, for all he knew it was destroyed in the attack, but even though it meant so much to him, he found he really didn’t care all that much. The lives of those within the castle walls were far more valuable than any sentimental memories. Funny, though, how those memories brought him comfort even now. He was humming one of Nona’s favorites. Kamek and Daisy had taken over the barrel filling and allowed them their tender moment. He was grateful for that. It took Ludwig a few minutes to regain some composure.

“I really like that one. It's my favorite.” Ludwig sniffled.

Beaming, the plumber rubbed gentle circles on the koopaling’s shell.

“I’mma glad. It was-a Nona’s favorite also.”

“I t-tried, but I couldn’t translate it very well,” he murmured. “The singer kept mentioning the sun?”

“Si, piccolo musicista,” Luigi chuckled, “He sings that his lover’s face brings him as much joy and warmth as the sun.”

“That makes a bit more sense.” Ludwig smiled back, already feeling a little lighter at heart. Then he remembered there were other things he’d meant to ask. “What about your arm?”

“Eh?”

“Larry bit your arm, did you—” Ludwig’s claws were sliding up his sleeve and Luigi’s face flushed as the rather haphazardly bandaged area was exposed. “Why haven’t you—”

Embarrassed, Luigi averted his eyes. “There just-a wasn’t a good moment piccolo. Soon as-a I got back to-a Sarasaland I wrote-a testimony for the allied council of rulers and—”

“Thanks. They offered dad temporary alliance.”

“I’mma glad to hear they took-a my suggestions seriously.”

“You—” Ludwig stared. Luigi was a shrewd man.

“That’s the last of them!” Kamek announced, floating impertinently between them. “Prince Ludwig, we must be getting on! His anxiousness is expecting us back soon!”

“Alright.” Ludwig sighed. “Luigi?”

“Si, piccolo?”

“Could you write? I mean…we’re going to take your dog home, so he’ll know where to find us…y’know if you want.”

Luigi’s smile could have lit a star. “I would love to, Ludwig.”

Chapter Text

Bowser saw their clown car on its return approach and hastened to meet them at the airship dock. He was more than aware that he had a small entourage of little shadows, but the kids had spent most of the day helping as much as they could. Now they were with him out of a desire to remain close. And who was he to deny them that? As long as they continued to behave themselves, he allowed them to tag along. He urged them not to get too close to the clown car as it landed.

Daisy, Ludwig and Kamek hopped out along with—what the hell was—

“ARF! ARF!” a luminescent white dog, very see-through, was happily jumping and following his eldest. Oh, for goodness sake…

He growled while his little shadows: Junior, Larry, Wendy, Roy, and Morton all rushed over to play with the undead canine. Stomping over he gave Ludwig his best ‘disapproving dad’ stare.

“Ludwig von Koopa.”

The blue-haired koopaling sighed and the others, who had been rubbing the dog’s tummy after it barked and flopped over, all paused to glance nervously at their father’s strict expression.

“Yes, father?” Luddy replied, just as formal. Bowser huffed smoke out his nose.

“What is that?”

“That, dear father, is a variety of domestic canine commonly called a ‘dog.’”

More smoke. Ludwig was quite literally playing with fire.

“I can see that it is a dog. A ghost dog. Why have you brought home a dog?”

“We made a deal to get the ectoplasm with a weird old professor who studies ghosts. He wants a copy of Iggy’s formula for super mortar. I’ll send it back with Polterpup.” Ludwig explained, realizing that there was only so far to push his father’s patience.

“You better! You kids already have enough pets!” The king waved his finger.

“Aw, but dad, he’s so adorable!” Wendy squealed, bundling the weirdly cold critter into her arms and bringing it over, holding it high above her head. Polterpup panted and barked, tail wagging happily, entirely unaffected by the king’s fiercest glare.

“ARF!”

“Hey! Hush!” Bowser snapped back. Polterpup phased out of Wendy’s arms and stood before the king whilst obediently silent but for the swishing of his tail. Red eyebrows rose. “Sit.”

Polterpup sat.

“Lay down.”

Again, the little ghost mutt did as it was told. Hmph. “Roll over.” Huh, so it knows that one, too? “Guess that old guy did a decent job training ya, huh pup? Play dead!”

With the most histrionic performance he’d ever seen from an animal, Polterpup wobbled back and forth whining, pretended to be stricken and keeled over, legs twitching before going still, that cold tongue smacking against the stone with a wet ‘plap.’ Bowser couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, Dad, I think he likes ya!” Roy said, beaming.

Daisy and Kamek were carefully unloading the barrels and Ludwig went to help them. Morton, Larry, Wendy and Roy were gushing over the dog, especially now that Polterpup seemed completely enamored with Dad. Junior, though, caught sight of Daisy and stomped over.

“Princess! What’s the big idea?! You think we’re just gonna trust you ‘cuz you sent your giant airship?!” He waved a claw in his best impression of his dad, “You better not try any funny business!”

The Sarasaland princess couldn’t believe her eyes. She’d only glimpsed Junior a few times shortly after he hatched. He was sickly and Bowser had been very careful. Not long after that, the king of the dark lands had pretty much cut their ties. She’d heard from Peach about Junior now and again. That he was a troublemaker and a little menace, but also oddly sweet. Of course, she knew he’d be here. Where else would he be? But knowing and preparing for it were different things. Daisy had figured Bowser would be too worried about their safety after what happened to allow his heir anywhere near her.

She’d figured wrong. And now she’d set eyes on him she couldn’t look away. Junior was the image of his father but…her lips parted and her eyes began to sting. All strength seemed to float from her body on an exhale. He looked like Bowser, but he spoke like…moved like…even that little slant in his posture, the quirk of his smile was…and his eyes…

“She’s not here to fight, Junior.” Ludwig said, flicking his little brother right between the eyes. “Lay off.”

“Hey!” Junior batted Luddy’s hand away then puffed up importantly and turned to face her again, “Fine! But if you were here to fight, I’d win! Because I’m prince of the darklands and—”

Daisy couldn’t help it. She sniffled. Her vision was so blurred by tears she couldn’t even tell which direction to run, but she took a wild guess and flung herself down the hall before her sobs could fully escape.

Ludwig and Junior stood there too stunned to do or say much besides look at each other and realize they wore matching expressions of bewilderment. Tail twitching anxiously, Junior turned to ask his dad, but Bowser was already staring after the princess. Papa looked upset. The little prince curled in on himself.

“Papa I—I didn’t mean to…”

“It wasn’t anything you did, Junior. I promise.” Bowser rumbled, briefly kneeling by his son and tilting Junior’s chin up. He offered a sad smile, tracing the curve of Junior’s cheek tenderly with a massive claw. “Wait here. I’ll go talk to her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he urgently reassured, pulling the kid into a tight embrace before standing up and heading out the doors Daisy had disappeared through. She hadn’t gotten far. Only a short way further, curled in a tight ball against the black stone, she sat, her face hidden in her arms. Her dress splayed out like wilted flower petals around her.

The princess'wwwaa raucous sobs released the cage around his grief and the king found himself sliding down the wall beside her until he, too, was seated on the floor. His spikes had probably left scrapes in the brick, but he didn’t care. She looked up and he looked down. Irises cool and no longer gleaming with that familiar heat of molten lava found her teary blues. His face was flat, every muscle in it simply too weary to form expression.

“I—” he tried, but his throat threatened to close and he swallowed.

“He’s just like her,” she managed to whisper.

“Yes.” One word stole all the air in his lungs.

Daisy somehow managed to smile, beaming up at him. “He has her eyes.”

“Yes,” he repeated and found himself smiling back. “You should see him wrestle with his siblings. Didn’t get those moves from me!” he chuckled.

“Haha,” Daisy laughed, tears escaping her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. “Hope I get to someday. They get along well?”

“Well enough. Luddy’s at an age where he bosses them around and Junior doesn’t like it very much.”

“I just bet he doesn’t,” she snorted. Even her smile still held a melancholic note. “Ludwig and I talked.” At the slight lift of a red eyebrow signaling interest, she confided, “He’s grown into a fine young koopa. You must be proud.”

“I am.” His urgent and emphatic response left no doubt. The muscles in his forearm twinged when a soft touch brushed his scales. He glanced down at her thin, gloved fingers and slowly back to her face.

“You did good. Heck, ya still are. Wherever she is…Terre’s proud of you.”

Before Bowser even realized what he was doing, the palm of his hand came to rest over hers, engulfing it. Two tears rolled down his face and over his snout. Huh. He’d shed so many in his grief that it always amazed him there were still more to cry.

“Daisy…I pushed you away. I’m—I’m sorry. She…Terre,” her name was still like honey on his lips after all these years…like water after weeks in the arid desert…how long had it been since he’d spoken it aloud? Too long… “Terre meant a lot to you, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize. You needed time and Junior was vulnerable. You did what you had to.”

“Do you—” he cleared his throat. She didn’t seem to mind. There was no animosity, no fear of judgement. Their hearts ached together. “D’ya think you could have a word with Junior before you go? He thinks he upset you. I told him it wasn’t his fault, but he probably still thinks—”

“Oh,” the hand beneath his own squeezed tightly, “Of course I will. Can’t have that.”

“Huh,” his lips quirked in a barely-there smile. “No, we can’t. Thanks. I know it’s not always easy. There’s so much of his mother in him.”

He stood first then helped her up.

“That’s something to be celebrated,” she grinned back, then joked, dryly, “Though you must be exhausted!”

“You kidding? I’m the luckiest dad in the world.” And he meant it.

When they got back to the landing deck, they found Junior and Ludwig pretty much where they’d left them, though the eldest seemed to be offering the little guy a bit of comfort by way of a sideways hug. Junior pulled free of it and came to meet them looking guilty.

“Princess Daisy, I was rude and—”

“Now you stop right there, kiddo.” She said, bossily. Junior didn’t like being told what to do.

“I’m just tryin’ ta say—”

“Hang on a second you little gremlin!” Daisy countered, bending down a little to look him in the eyes. Stars, those eyes really brought back memories… “Listen. I’m the one who should be saying sorry to you!”

“Huh?” Junior said, head quirked to one side. Daisy couldn’t help it. She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re just like your mother?” She asked, beaming at him.

Black beady eyes blinked rapidly, snout crinkling in confusion.

“Nuh-uh. I look like papa!” He answered, then after a bit more reflection, whispered in an awed voice, “You knew my mama?”

She nodded. Suddenly two tiny hands were gripping her dress with little claws.

“You really think I’m like her?”

“Oh, yeah, little guy! Oodles!” She nodded emphatically. Junior’s tail began to wag.

“Papa says she was strong! Stronger than him!”

“Ugh, by miles! She was one of the very first people to ever beat your father in a fight!”

The eyes widened and filled with stars. “Whoa…I wanna beat him in a fight someday!” Junior exclaimed, as though it was his life’s greatest ambition.

Bowser rolled his eyes and shot a claw out to mess with that little red ponytail. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see about that, hotshot.”

“And I’m gonna be an even more amazing king, too!” Junior declared, eagerly.

The current king grumbled under his breath, “Well, at least that won’t be too hard. Glad he’s got one doable goal, at least.”

Ludwig snickered a little at the joke, but didn’t hesitate to whisper back.

“You are a good king, dad.”

“Sure, sure. All I’m sayin’ is there’s plenty of room for improvement,” Bowser confided to the eldest.

“Dunno, Dad. I think he’s got his work cut out for him.”

“Aw, c’mere you!” his arm shot out to grab the kid so he could affectionately ruffle that thick blue hair. Luddy groaned and tried to wiggle away, doing a bad job concealing impending laughter whilst Junior bombarded Daisy with questions and insisted she tell him everything.

"Slow down, little guy! Slow down!"

"But," Junior's tooth worked his bottom lip, "Dad said that once you got back with Iggy's whatever-it-was you'd go away..."

She found Bowser's eyes over Junior shoulder and the king sighed.

"Well, I suppose..." but there was still a bit of a problem with that, "We don't have anywhere to put you up. We're staying in the guest wing until the repairs are..."

"Rosie and I can stay on the airship. But I really wouldn't want to impose. You said you didn't need our help, so, we should probably get going." Daisy put heavy emphasis on that so...and Junior was a smart kid. He caught on immediately.

Bowser's fate was sealed the moment Junior's pleading eyes appealed to him. He sighed.

"Fine. I guess a little help won't hurt anything. But your guys follow my directions."

"Of course."

"Hooray!" Junior cheered, then urgently seized Daisy by the arm, "Dad said Ma liked flowers! Is that true? Do all princesses and queens like flowers? I guess they're not so bad...but I don't like fire flowers much. They make me sneeze fire."

Iggy’s abject delight that they'd managed to acquire ectoplasm was unfortunately short-lived when Ludwig explained the professor’s terms. The blue-haired koopaling was not surprised that Lemmy spoke for the inventor. They were very good at the whole ‘twinning’ thing when one or other of them was upset.

“Luddy, seriously, not cool.”

“I know, I know. But he insisted and—”

“What kind of ‘Professor’ even is he? He could try and use the stuff against us or completely rip Iggy off and say he invented it! That’s not fair!”

His brother was right, of course, but he tried to explain that he had very little choice in the matter. And anyway…

“He’s weird, sure, but he’s not a bad guy. I don’t think he’d do that. He asked to know how to make it that’s all. He could have asked for all your documentation or whatever. I know you usually write down way more meticulous notes and—”

Iggy growled. Ludwig felt guilty. He knew his inventive sibling would be upset, but he didn’t think it would be this bad.

“Iggs, I’m sorry. I know this stuff means a lot to you. I wasn’t trying to shortchange you or anything. Look, we already have the ectoplasm, I can just write him a letter and try to explain—”

“No,” was his green-shelled brother’s first words since being told of the deal. “Ectoplasm is an extremely useful substance. Not just for this, but a bunch of my other projects as well. Where's he get the stuff?”

“He has tanks full of ghosts. I think he said he had some kind of system set up to clean them regularly so they didn’t get all ‘gummed up’?”

“What?” Lemmy asked, awed. Iggy’s eyes already intensely interested brightened even more.

“He has a steady supply…” the inventor stroked his chin, lapsing into thoughtful silence. Ludwig was beginning to wonder if their conversation was over and if he should maybe leave Iggy to the mixing and come back for the formula later when, “How will you get the instructions to him? Magic them over?”

“Oh, uh…well, actually…”

Poof! Bowser, Kammy and Kamek appeared in a puff of purple smoke with five barrels popping into existence behind him.

“Over there, by the mixer! Be careful! And don’t touch anything.”

Kammy raised her wand to help, but Bowser growled. “Light Duty.”

“Enough! I may be old, and recovering from a blow to the head, but—”

“Pipe down, sister, dear. You’re only making it worse for yourself.” Kamek said, brimming with laughter. He hadn’t seen her this pouty since she accidentally splashed herself with shrinking potion. Hehehehe…she’d been the size of a butterfly for nearly a week.

Arf! Arf arf! A ghostly white shape phased through the wall and floated right into one of Iggy’s special lights. The light illuminated the spot on the wall where it had just entered. Iggy rushed over to look. The dog wagged its tail and came inside, barking happily at the kids. Iggy took the light off its stand and moved it around, curiously. Where they saw nothing with the naked eye the light showed Polterpup’s footprints.

“A ghost dog? Fascinating.” Iggy reached out, tentatively.

Polterpup sniffed the new hand, barked and licked it.

“That’s how,” Ludwig pointed as Polterpup sat down beside him. Thankfully, Iggy quickly realized what he meant.

“He belongs to this Professor?”

“Sort of. The Professor said he kinda comes and goes, but that he always finds his way back.”

“Interesting,” Iggy got down on all fours and pulled out a measuring tape. He measured Polterpup’s length from snout to tail, and height from paw to shoulder. He even managed to look inside the dog’s mouth. He flicked his wand. A journal and pen floated over, the pen furiously scratching the information down on the page. He grabbed it, looked it over, nodded approvingly, then handed it wordlessly over to Lemmy who drew a quick sketch. Ludwig leaned over to have a peek. Lemmy was quite good. Funny he didn’t spend more time in the art room with Junior…A quick glance at the cover yielded ‘Creature Compendium’ carved into the leather in Iggy’s handwriting. Lemmy showed Iggy the picture and the inventor nodded approval. He waved his wand and the book flew back to the appropriate shelf. A quick flick and different volume presented itself, pages fluttering open to a spot with a brightly colored ribbon as a marker.

The writing there was much messier. Some parts were hastily scribbled out, other parts were underlined and a few were heavily circled. Iggy summoned a few pieces of fresh paper and the pen, then got to work. The new copy was a much neater, clearer recipe. After that though, Iggy scribbled something down in the margins and added his name at the top. He folded it up, magicked over some wax and sealed it with a stamp. Then he handed it to the dog.

Polterpup eagerly took it in his mouth.

“Wait—won’t it get—” Ludwig began, but his brilliant brother was way ahead of him.

“No real saliva.” Iggy explained. Polterpup crouched and wagged his tail happily. The inventor frowned. “Well? Go on! Get!”

“Wait, I—” Luddy’s hand shot out to try and stop the mutt, but the dog phased through the wall and was gone. He lowered it, becoming all-too aware that Iggy was eying him curiously.

“Sorry. Was there something else—”

“No. Not at all.”

Ludwig’s a lousy liar, Iggy thought. A quick glance at Lemmy said his twin was thinking the same thing. All the same, he was interested to see what this strange Professor thought of his formula. Maybe they’d get word in a few days, but now that he had everything he needed: there was super mortar to mix.

Chapter Text

Three days came and went. A bit more than half of the repairs to the royal wing had been finished. Eager to return to semi-normalcy, most of them were sharing rooms. Larry and Junior were staying with Dad in his giant nest. Their rooms, which were closest to the king’s, were heavily damaged and needed extensive repair, same as Bowser’s had. It would probably be at least three more days before they were done. Wendy and Roy were in Roy’s room. Hers wasn’t done being refurnished and she was still lamenting having lost most of her comic collection…Roy did his best to reassure her that Dad would buy them all for her again, but it still stung. Iggy and Lemmy’s room was done, so at least for them things were nearly back to rights. And lastly, Ludwig and Morton were in Luddy’s room. Morton did not like it much, but Luddy helped him line the sides of the bed with pillows and blankets to make it feel a bit more like a nest and that did wonders for the gray koopaling’s anxiety.

Iggy was in the lab doing his nightly check on all his experiments, jotting down routine measurements. Date, time, recorder’s name: Iggy Koopa, Experiment: Genetic manipulation of piranha plants, Specimen number: 28, Color: Blue, Type: Ice-shooter, Leaf length—he jotted it down, Height—again he took a measurement and scribbled the number down. Additional observations: 28, like other subjects 23-30, continues to exhibit nearly double previously recorded weekly growth rates after switching feed from larger meat chunks to smaller cubes. Quicker digestion appears to be most beneficial.

He moved down the line. Subject 29. His pen scratched against the paper again, taking down all the measurements. Color: Green…

Something tipped over and fell, shattering on the ground. He turned. Standing in a pile of broken glass and a puddle of blue that was his failed lava-freezing mixture from last week, was a very pleased-looking ghost canine.

“Grf! Rf!” it tried, but it had something in its mouth. He went over, careful of the broken glass and knelt down laying his hand out. Polterpup dropped the letters and nosed one over to him. He took it and had a look at the personalized stationary.

Professor E. Gadd

Hmm…He opened it up and extracted the contents.

Ignatius Koopa,

Iggy scoffed. He supposed he had signed the super mortar instructions thusly. He tended to write his full name on any of his actually successful creations. In case they were one day useful to someone other than him. Still, nobody called him that. Except dad. And only when Bowser was angry at him, usually whenever he blew things up…

Brilliant stuff, dear boy! Truly excellent! Over half a century I’ve been studying ghosts and their properties and never had I considered such an innovative application of ectoplasm! Combining its fantastic adhesive properties with a heat-setting mixture was a masterstroke. As fair is fair, please find enclosed the plans for a little something of my own. I never could have finished it without the amazing contribution of your super mortar! Hope it can be of use to you in your endeavors. After all, a scientist’s work is never done and can take one anywhere!

Sincerely,

Professor E. Gadd, Phasmologist

Interest piqued, Iggy set the letter aside and unfolded the couple pages of blueprints. Whoa…he’d only ever dreamed of designing something this detailed…

‘The Instant Bunker’ it was titled. Iggy rushed the blueprints to his drafting table where he could spread them out for a better look. A large amount of un-set super mortar poured into an stretchable kind of frame complete with plugs for windows, doors and ventilation. The frame was designed to begin at about the size of a standard backpack. Underneath the super-mortar frame was a balloon. When inflated the frame and the mortar would stretch like putty, but because it tended to fill shapes evenly, would retain the domed shape. The balloon was pumped full of a flammable gas and when an appropriate sized was reached, a fuse was lit, traveling to the balloon, igniting the gas and the resulting burst of heat would set the mortar. The skin of the balloon and the ash could be easily peeled away leaving behind a perfectly functional shelter that merely acquired the addition of a door and a few windows. That was…brilliant.

“Rf! Rf!” Polterpup said, wagging their tail.

Oh, right…Iggy went back over and bent down again, reaching out for the other letter and taking it between his fingers. He tried to gently tug it away, but, to his surprise, the ghost canine just went: “Rrrrr! Rrrrr!” and engaged in tug-of-war.

“Let go!” he said, irked. The dog refused. Not wanting to tear it, Iggy let go. “Fine. You keep it, then!”

“Rf!” and with that, the frustratingly non-corporeal creature bounded off and disappeared through the wall. Curious. Iggy picked up his wand and cast spell that made a dark light emit from the tip. Sure enough, just like last time, it revealed the ghost’s spectral footprints. He followed them over the wall and noticed the dog-shaped impression left behind there. It really was interesting. It meant the creature retained some semblance of its normal shape even whilst passing through solid objects…

Poking his head out the door, a quick flick up at the other side revealed a similar impression there as well. Iggy turned to the floor. More footprints headed down the hall. He could finish the measurements of his piranha plants later, he decided. They lead him from one hall to another, twisting and turning but not passing through any more walls. Where was the dog even—hang on. If they kept going this direction—sure enough, the trail led him right to newly repaired royal wing. Weird. He focused on the footprints. They zig-zagged along, and even spun in little circles at a few doors, before hanging a left and ending abruptly. Iggy raised his wand. A Polterpup shaped outline was evident.

…Ludwig’s room?

Fascinating. He’d tell Lemmy about this later, but first the weekly growth data collection needed finishing.

Ludwig was sitting up in bed eagerly rocketing through pages of the slightly-worse-for-wear book Luigi had given him on the history of jazz in this fascinating part of the human world called ‘New York City’ by the light of his wand. Morton was sleeping and though Ludwig wasn’t quite ready for bed, he didn’t want to wake his little brother. Morton hadn’t been sleeping well. He was deep in a chapter describing a place called Harlem and its most famous jazz clubs when Morton flinched. He lowered his wand and waited, watching the gray koopaling closely. Morton’s bare back was facing him, dark spikey shell resting on the nightstand where his little brother had left it. When things stilled, Ludwig relaxed and raised his wand again, trying to find the sentence he’d left off at, but then Morton’s shoulders started shaking. Ludwig snapped the book shut and tossed it aside, poking the lamp on the wall beside him with his wand to light it.

“Morton?” he asked, softly, debating whether reaching out was the best thing. He didn’t want to make Morton panic. Morton whimpered and he started reaching anyhow but was suddenly pushed off by a flailing arm. Oof. At least the blankets and pillows they’d surrounding the bed had cushioned his fall…

“No! Can’t…Morton…can’t…trapped.”

“You’re not trapped.” Ludwig said, springing to his feet and crawling carefully back on the bed, mindful of Morton’s sudden movements. “Morton, listen to me,” he struggled to keep his voice calm. He didn’t know what to do. None of his siblings had nightmares like this before. Or if they did, he’d never witnessed them. What should he do? Should he get dad? Or Kamek? Did he just try to get Morton to calm down? Maybe he should start with that. “Morton.”

“Gonna die.”

“No, you’re not trapped. You can escape.”

“No escape!” Morton’s breath was ragged. He needed his brother to wake up.

“Wake up.”

Morton shook his head and whined, screwing his eyes shut tighter. “Trapped...”

“C’mon Morton. It was just a dream. Open your eyes.” Ludwig pleaded.

“Dr—dream?” came a barely-there whisper.

“Yes! Just a terrible dream. Please…open your eyes, little brother.”

“Luddy?” Just the sight of Morton’s eyes had Ludwig releasing a breath the eldest hadn’t even realized he was holding. He trapped the younger koopaling in a hug and Morton’s arms slowly rose to return it. Ludwig felt tears on his shoulder, but didn’t say anything. “Morton had a bad dream.”

“I know. You—” he wasn’t sure how to say it without embarrassing Morton, but it needed to be said. “You’ve been having them pretty much every night.”

Morton hid his face against the eldest’s shoulder. “Luddy noticed?”

“Of course I did,” he sighed. “I was going to let you bring up, but this time—that nightmare.”

“Extra bad. Worst one since my shell got cracked.”

Ludwig’s eyes brightened and Morton clearly realized the mistake too late. He hadn’t meant to admit that…he knew Luddy would worry or tell dad. And then dad would worry too…Morton didn’t want them always worrying about him. They were just bad dreams and—

“That long?”

Ashamed, Morton pulled out of the hug and turned away.

“Didn’t want you worried. Knew Luddy would.”

Luddy’s fingers curled around his shoulder.

“Of course I would! This is something to be worried about, Morton. You’re having terrible nightmares! We should tell dad and—”

“No.” Morton shook his head emphatically. He turned to Luddy with a desperate expression. “Morton knows how to handle them. Was getting better…before…”

Holding his brother’s gaze, trying to determine if that was really true, Ludwig faced an internal battle. He never wanted to go against Morton’s wishes, but dad, Kamek and Kammy needed to be made aware in case these terrors got any worse…right? Morton had been violently thrashing about. If broke something or knocked something over, or hit his head on the nightstand or— Ludwig couldn’t stand any of the more gruesome possibilities.

“Morton, it isn’t safe.” He tried to explain, his fear showing in his eyes. Morton’s devastated face stole any further words from his mouth. Tears gathered in his little brother’s eyes.

“Luddy…scared of Morton?”

Eyes going wide he emphatically shook his head. “No! Of course I’m not scared of you! I’m scared for you! What if you get hurt?”

Morton’s relief was bogged down by growing guilt.

“Stupid Morton. Upset Luddy. Upset Roy. Upset Dad. Upset everyone. Never understand. Always need help understand. Everyone has to explain. Always so nice to Morton. Even when I don’t deserve and start believing the dumb thoughts that say stupid things…”

“You’re not stupid.” Luddy’s voice shook with barely restrained anger. “Don’t ever let anyone call you that. Tell me more about the ‘dumb thoughts that say stupid things’?”

“Like that Morton is stupid. Or that I don’t belong because am gray. Morton has dumb thoughts and sometimes they won’t go away and Morton feels sad.”

Taking both of Morton’s hands in his own, he looked his brother right in the eyes.

“We’re your family. We’re always there for you.”

Morton struggled to swallow. His voice was tiny, “Promise?”

“I promise.” Ludwig gently steered his little brother back into bed and they flopped down shoulder to shoulder, staring at the dark ceiling. “Must have been some nightmare.”

The star-faced koopaling offered only a grunt.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Started in castle outpost. I was trapped in the rubble again.”

Hmmm, that much Ludwig had already guessed.

“Was just like it. Couldn’t move. Not enough air. Couldn’t see.”

Luddy grimaced. His hands started to shake with sympathetic anxiety. For all their talk of the events before, after and around the incident. Morton had never discussed it in detail. Not with him.

“Was scared, just like before. Knew I was gonna die. Only, in dream, didn’t think about Dad or you or the others. Was just scared of dying. Rocks were crushing me. Couldn’t breathe…”

“In the outpost—” his voice threatened to fail him, “You thought about us?”

Morton nodded slowly, carefully avoiding his eyes.

“The dumb thoughts said you wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t even come looking. Morton would die and no one would save him.”

“I would have.” Suddenly he’d found his full voice again. “If I’d known, I’d have come running to get you out.”

This time when Morton nodded, it was clear the star-faced koopaling knew as much, because he was gravely serious. What he said next, though, blindsided the eldest with its sincerity.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Faced with Ludwig’s shock he grimly explained, “Was dangerous. Luigi and Morton barely made it out. Luddy would be in danger.” Shaking his head like this was unacceptable, he finished. “Want Luddy careful and safe. Luddy panics and does unsafe things. Could get hurt.”

Yet again, Ludwig was faced with a blatant reminder why he and the gray koopaling had such a great rapport, despite their age difference. Morton had the most singular form of insight resulting in the eleven-year-old understanding him better than he understood himself sometimes. When he briefly closed his eyes the memory of flames erupting from behind a door he’d hastily begun to open flashed before him. When he opened them again, Morton was frowning at him.

“Luddy frightened.”

He didn’t deny it, instead explaining. “That’s exactly what happened.”

Morton canted his head, prompting further explanation.

“When Luigi showed up during Mario’s attack. I was looking for you and the others and—” he closed his eyes and winced when the flames came to greet him. Morton’s claws touching his arm grounded him. “I was panicking, not thinking straight. I didn’t trust Luigi. I thought he was good and then—”

“Morton understand.”

“The doors at the end of the hall were shut. I—I didn’t check first to see if they were hot. I didn’t hear the fire inside…I—” the grip on his arm became almost bruising. “I opened it and the fire exploded and—and—”

“I heard the boom through door.” Morton whispered, “Then heard water and flames going out.”

Ludwig nodded. “That was my magic.”

“Luddy hurt in explosion?” the younger’s voice was low and trembling, clearly afraid to even ask.

He shook his head and Morton’s shoulders eased.

“Luigi, he pulled me back. If—If he’d hadn’t, I—I’d have been burned alive.” Suddenly he was engulfed by a desperate sideways embrace. He rubbed his face against his brother’s neck, mixing their scents together and allowed himself to revel in the closeness after all they’d been through.

“Morton needs to thank Luigi.”

Luddy couldn’t help it. He laughed through the rising tears. “Yeah, little brother. I think we both do.”

“ARF! ARF ARF!”

They both abruptly sat up.

“Doggy!” Morton cried, happily, leaving the bed to go give pets. He noticed the letter in the dog’s mouth. “Hey. Dog has mail!” He reached for it, but Polterpup playfully danced about, “Give!”

“Let me see.” Luddy said, getting up as well and going over to them.

Morton got a hold of the envelope and tried to pull, but Polterpup growled and tugged it back. Ludwig urged Morton to let go before it tore. Morton pouted.

“Dog no drop letter.”

The eldest bent down and put his hand out. “C’mon Polterpup. At least let me see who it’s—” he was stunned when the dog let go and the letter fluttered into his hand, but finished his sentence automatically, “for.”

He turned it over.

Ludwig

Oh. Morton loomed over his shoulder to look and after a few seconds proudly exclaimed.

“Good dog. Didn’t give letter to Morton because letter for Luddy. Who from?”

“I—” he swallowed and began to open it. “I asked Luigi to write to me.”

His little brother—who was, in fact, a good bit taller than him—practically pounced, trying to see the words over his shoulder before remembering how hard reading was and pouting.

“Aw. Morton wishes he could get letters.”

“You can if you want,” Ludwig encouraged. “Luigi was really nice about it when I asked him.”

Morton kicked the rug with his foot. “Morton can’t read good.”

“I can read them to you.”

The answering gaze was hopeful. “Luddy would?”

“Of course I would.”

Morton looked away again, fiddling with his claws, a little uncertain.

“I will think about it.”

They were both stunned when Polterpup hopped up on their bed and happily rolled in the blankets, only to phase out of them and settle down on top. Morton quirked his head to one side.

“Dog stay?”

“Maybe he’s waiting to see if we wanna write something back.” Ludwig guessed.

“Oh.” Morton nodded toward the paper in his brother’s hand. “Luddy read letter!”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat, “Dear Ludwig—”

“Luddy dun gotta read it to Morton. Is Luddy’s letter.”

The blue-haired koopaling shook his head. “I don’t mind. Here. Come sit with me.”

They sat on the bed and Morton absentmindedly pet Polterpup as Luddy began again.

“Dear Ludwig,

I hope your father’s repairs are going better than my cleanup. I cannot believe how much dust, spiderwebs and mice one mansion can accumulate. I’ve cleared the hall, sitting room, furnace, drawing room and the kitchen. I’ll be lucky to reach the bedrooms by summertime at this rate! Just a little joke. Hopefully it will be sooner than that.

If your brother needs more ectoplasm just let me know. Egad was most impressed with his recipe for super mortar and sent some blueprints his way. I slipped this letter to Polterpup afterwards. Try as I might to focus on my own life, I find myself concerned about Mario, the council, your father and the outcome of their deliberations. I returned to the mushroom kingdom yesterday with one of E. Gadd’s portable pixelators (it’s a device for transporting objects long distances via teleportation). I wanted to move my sewing machine into the mansion so I would be able to work on new clothes. I shouldn’t have gone back. The toads are not pleased with me. Unsurprisingly, they got word of my statement to the council. They call me a traitor. Some of them even threw things and cursed at me. Most of them were never fond of me, even on my best days. I do not regret my decision. I still have Toad and Toadette on my side. They’ve volunteered to take care of any further errands to help me avoid creating any more tension in future.

Please take care of yourself and the other bambini. Hope to hear from you soon.

Your friend,

Luigi”

Morton smiled. “Luigi Luddy’s friend too. Morton is glad. But…Morton doesn’t like toads being mean to Luigi.”

“Indeed, it’s most disconcerting. I’ll ask him about that in my reply.” Ludwig said, magicking up a pen, some paper and an envelope. “Anything you want to add?” he asked his brother.

“Ask when can meet again.”

“Morton, now might not be the best time. The repairs are still—”

“Luddy can still ask.”

“True,” Ludwig admitted, quickly adding in the request. Morton looked a little apprehensive.

“Kamek gonna be mad cuz letter go through doggy now?”

“Hmm,” it was worth considering. He probably should have thought of that himself, but Morton really did have more sense than him sometimes. “I don’t know. It won’t hurt to send a message now and find out later.”

“Tell Luigi Morton says thank you. For saving Luddy. Morton doesn’t want anything bad to happen to Luddy ever.”

“Morton…” Ludwig murmured, pausing to squeeze his little brother’s hand. “I love you little brother.”

“Love you too. Luddy read letter before send to Luigi?”

“Okay,” he smiled. “Sure. Luigi…” he read what he’d written aloud. Morton expressed interest in some of it and less in other parts. His little brother didn’t care much about the recap of the castle repairs and the status of their rooms but added a few notes to Ludwig’s tales of their siblings, including an interesting little anecdote about Larry and Dad, which the eldest tacked on to the end. “Okay. All done?” Luddy asked.

Morton’s claws nervously twiddled and he looked at the ground as he asked, “Luddy can ask Luigi if want write to Morton?”

Ludwig smiled. “Of course I can.”

Chapter Text

Roy’s patience was wearing thin. Morton and Ludwig were up to something. Had to be. No way he was imagining it. They’d always been close, there was a weird kind of bond between them Roy’d never fully understood but had accepted. For some reason his star-faced bro and the bookish eldest just got each other. That’s just how they were. Like him and Wendy.

But over the past eight days, their secret had become impossible to ignore. They weren’t sharing rooms anymore. The royal wing was fixed. Yet the pair of them were constantly sneaking back and forth to each other’s rooms at strange hours. Ludwig’s room was down on the end, across from Wendy’s. Roy’s was next to hers and their suites shared an adjoining door. When they first came to live here, dad had it installed especially for them. They’d had a very hard time adjusting to occupying different rooms. Roy in particular. Every so often he’d still have intrusive thoughts regarding her safety, but it was easier now. Or it had been. Mario’s attack had destabilized things. It was harder to tell himself that they were just thoughts and significantly more difficult to convince himself there was no real danger…He’d been wasting time and energy triple-checking the halls after his siblings’ had gone to bed. Sometimes even quadruple checking. That’s how he’d noticed in the first place.

Morton’s door—Roy’s room was sandwiched between Wendy’s and Morty’s—well, it was ajar. He’d pushed it open and found it unoccupied. He would have flown into full blown panic had he not caught the sound of Morty’s laughter coming from across the hall. He opened Luddy’s door and found his brothers playing with that ghost dog from the other day. Heartrate returning to normal, he’d cleared his throat and they’d looked up, surprised to see him there. That was fine. Gave him more time to look them over and reassure himself they were both fine.

“Roy! Wanna pet the doggy?” Morton asked, smiling. Ah, smiling. Smiling was good, Roy told himself. Smiling was supposed to be good, right? Morton looked happy. There was no danger.

“Not now,” he said, shaking his head. More interested in being sure that, “You two alright?”

Both of them nodded. Ludwig’s sharp eyes threatened to glimpse right through him.

“Roy, are you alright?”

“Me? I’m fine.” He quickly changed the subject, “What’s that mutt doin’ back here anyway? I thought you sent him home to that scientist fella.”

“Oh, he came back to bring Iggy some blueprints a few days ago and ever since he’s been coming to visit.” Ludwig explained.

Roy frowned. “Dad’s gonna have a cow. You know he doesn’t want any more pets.”

“Polterpup won’t stay that long,” Morton said, petting the dog’s head. Polterpup leaned into the touch, panting happily.

“Okay,” Roy said, hovering hesitantly by the door. He should probably leave…

“You sure everything’s alright?” Ludwig asked again. Morty must’ve picked up on it after that, because suddenly the gray koopaling also seemed concerned. Roy did not like that. The last thing he needed was to be the reason things weren’t okay.

“No, really, I’m fine. Don’t stay up too late, though, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ludwig wasn’t buying it. “Roy, if you need anything you can—”

“Don’t need nothin.” He spat out, trying to beat a hasty retreat.

“Hey,” Morton’s call made him pause, “Roy should get sleep, too.”

It was very hard to look Morty in the eyes.

“Uh, yeah…I’ll—uh—I’ll try.”

Since then, the pair of them had been a bit more careful, but it was still happening. Roy had very little else to do whilst laying in his nest trying to find the peace of sleep besides listen to the silence. Every time he heard Morty’s door open and close, he’d shift a little. Sometimes while he waited for his little brother to return, he’d tidy up the pillows and re-tuck the blankets. He knew he didn’t really need to, but found himself doing it anyway just to help himself feel better. You can’t control Morty, he reminded himself. He’s not the like the pillows or the sunglasses cases…

Besides, Morty was just with Luddy. It was fine. They were safe in the blue-haired koopaling’s room across the hall. Maybe the ghost dog had stopped by again. But it had only been two days since the last time…and an hour felt like a lot of time to spend playing with a dog in the middle of the night. Morty liked dogs fine, but there had to be something more going on. It’s none of your business, said the sensible part of his brain, so he rolled over and forcibly closed his eyes. Only he wouldn’t fall asleep until after he heard Morton’s door close softly a good deal later.

Night six he was restless and wandered out to check the hall. One, two, three, tap. One, two, three, tap. Every three paces he tapped the reinforced walls with the tip of his claw. Still sturdy. Good. Same as yesterday. That was good. Right? Right, of course. It all sounded the same, felt the same. Nothing loose or flaky or damaged and…

He was stunned when that white ghost dog came dashing around the corner. It was headed right for him. Whoa! It passed through his legs and he shuddered, slightly losing his balance. Ugh, it’s worse than falling in a cold pool. He caught himself on all fours and looked between his legs, watching upside-down as it raced the rest of the way down the hall. Hey…wait a minute what was—it had something in its mouth! Those looked like—

Roy whistled. The canine turned to him with interest.

“Hey, bud.” He said, sitting back on his haunches and patting his leg. “Come ‘ere!”

Polterpup wandered over, tail wagging softly, nose stretched forward in interest. Roy gave the dog a few pets for listening. The tail wagged harder. Roy leaned in for a closer look. More than one envelope.

“Whatcha got there?” The dog growled when he tried to touch. He frowned. “Okay, fine. I’ll make you a deal. You stay. Think you can do that?”

The dog sat and panted around the letters in its mouth. He made an open palmed gesture and repeated as he slowly got up. “Stay.”

He went straight to Lemmy and Iggy’s room. A quick tap on the door got no response, so he peeked in. Lemmy was fast asleep, softly snoring and Iggy’s bed was empty. Probably another late night in the lab. That was normal, even if seeing the empty bed made Roy uneasy. He tiptoed in as quietly as he could, trying not to take his eyes off Lemmy for long. He remembered where they kept the treats for Iggy’s chain chomps. He took one, constantly checking to make sure Lemmy was still sound asleep. His heart was pounding in his ears as he returned the container to the proper shelf and crept back out, pulling the door closed as silently as he could manage.

He was relieved to see the dog was still sitting where he’d left them. Its little ghostly snout twitched when he returned and that tail began to wag hard. He smiled.

“You smell it?” he asked, holding up the treat. Polterpup whined, fighting the desire to move toward the big koopaling in its excitement. “Good stay. You want the treat?”

Another needy whine.

“Okay. Here ya go, go get it!” he tossed it a little way down the carpet and, just as he’d hoped, the dog dropped the letters and dashed after it. While it happily chomped on the biscuit he picked them up. They were plain, white envelopes, nothing remarkable about them. He turned them over and his eyes narrowed. Addressed to Ludwig and Morty…he didn’t recognize the handwriting, but when he brought them closer to his face—

That smell. Polterpup had finished the snack. Cold front paws found his plastron and with a yip the dog’s jaws closed around letters again. Roy’s fingers laxed. He was too caught up in the whiplash of the realization as the creature hopped back down and bounded off back on its original course. He watched it vanish through the wall into Luddy’s room.

That was two nights ago. Tonight when he heard Morton’s door he couldn’t stand it any longer. Roy climbed out of his nest, and wandered from the safety of his room to his big brother’s across the hall. His fingers itched to knock first, but he let himself in. They looked up as he entered, but no one said anything until after the door closed behind him.

“Roy, little late for you, isn’t it?” Luddy asked. One blue eyebrow rose when he didn’t respond right away. “Is everything—”

“You’ve been writing letters to the green Mario brother.” He did his best to keep his face neutral. Morty cringed and nervously slid behind Ludwig. That hurt. “I wanna know why.”

“His name is Luigi,” Ludwig said, voice low and irritatingly calm. “He’s our friend.”

Friend? He shook his head and checked their faces. They had to be joking. Okay…not joking. What were they thinking?! They had to realize they couldn’t trust a Mario brother! Mario had almost destroyed their family how could—his emotions were playing across his face plain as day and Morton hastened to explain.

“Roy, Luigi saved me.”

Behind the sunglasses, Roy’s eyes narrowed to angry slits.

“Just ‘cuz he helped us in the attack doesn’t mean we can trust him! All it means is he has a harder time fighting kids than Mario! Morty,” he struggled. He didn’t want to taint his little brother’s innocent outlook of the world, but he needed the kid to understand, “Bad people do good things sometimes, it doesn’t mean—”

“No. Luigi is good,” Morton boldly declared pushing out from behind Luddy, fists curled. “You don’t understand!”

“Then help me understand,” Roy growled advancing a step. Morty met him with equal hostility.

“Calm down,” Luddy’s voice warned, “Both of you.”

“Morton lied,” the gray koopaling said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Roy snorted, “I already knew that. You been lyin’ to me since you two came home from the woods with Kamek!” He’d gotten them both with that. Luddy’s eyes widened and Morton’s fists fell. He knew now was his opportunity to press if he wanted a clear advantage: “You still had his scent on you!”

“How’d you know—” Ludwig started, but Roy heatedly cut him off.

“I figured it out in the attack after he helped me. I should’ve let him fall.” He ignored the matching growls tossed his way for that, “The only reason he’s not dead is because I recognized that scent.”

Ludwig was trying to figure out how to defuse the situation. Roy was far to agitated to be reasoned with like this. They needed to bring down the tension somehow before the argument woke Dad or the others. But the best way to handle Roy was by letting him exhaust his anger and how could they manage that without—

“Roy scared. Morton understand.”

“I’m not…” he stopped because the lie felt particularly nasty on his tongue. “You bet I’m scared. I’m terrified. Our home was attacked. Half the castle was destroyed! Mario nearly killed us and you think you’ll be safe with his brother?” Morton’s nod and absolute certainty left Roy feeling numb. “How?”

“Roy said he loved Morton. If love, then have to trust—”

“Morty,” he growled, but it turned into a whine that made both his brothers lean in, concerned. He could feel heated tears in his eyes and was grateful for his glasses. “I can’t just—You know I love you, but how can I trust—”

“Been lying longer than Roy thinks.” Morton declared, coming close enough to take him by the arm. He looked down into Morty’s shining eyes. “I lied about the castle.”

The two-second pause that followed rang in Roy’s ears. The castle? Morton meant…

“Lied to Dad and Kamek and…everyone. I was trapped. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.”

“Morty, please…” he closed his eyes, trying to ward away the images those words painted. He didn’t want to hear any more. He couldn’t stand it. He’d have nightmares and every time Morty was out of sight he’d think—

“Roy listen! Morton couldn’t escape.” His gray brother said, meaningfully. Roy carefully considered. Wait…

“But—if you couldn’t…then, how?”

“Luigi saved me.” Morton gave it a split second to sink in, then continued, “Morton was beaten. I—I gave up. I thought was dying. He dug me out, only everything broke, and we were gonna get crushed. Could have left me to die, but Luigi carried Morton. He got hurt, but he healed me instead. Luigi the only reason Morton still alive.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. His doubtful gaze turned to Luddy, but his big brother’s expression was unyielding as stone.

“It’s true, brother.”

“How did you find out?”

“Morton came to me for help sending Luigi a letter. He said the human was kind to him and that he wanted to meet him again, just to talk.”

“And you—” Roy’s hands found his hips. Luddy flung up a hand.

“I decided to trust Morton’s judgement. And before you start: I had a plethora of area spells set to activate at the first sign of hostility. You know I wouldn’t go into a meeting like that entirely defenseless.”

“But still,” he huffed.

“It was what Morton needed.” Ludwig said it without a trace of doubt or regret and Roy softened considerably at the meaningful glint in those eyes. He didn’t have to know exactly what was meant to recognize the importance.

“How many times did you—”

“Only twice. We were going to set up a third meeting but then…”

“The attack?”

Ludwig nodded. Roy sighed and ran his hand over his smooth head before asking:

“You’re planning to see him again, aren’t you?” the looks on their faces told him everything he needed to know. He rubbed his temples. “Fine, but you’re taking me with you.”

Morton crossed his arms and was going to argue, but Ludwig settled the younger with a few clicks and a hard stare. Morton huffed and whined.

“But Morton wanted most time with Luigi!”

Luddy laughed and Roy’s eyes widened behind his sunglasses. He’d never heard Morty that interested in the company of someone outside family and…when was the last time Luddy had laughed?

“Sorry, little brother. You’ll just have to share.”

“HMPH.”

A bright blue eye blinked on the other side of the keyhole. When Roy sternly instructed the other two to let him know when the next meeting would be and bade them goodnight, Larry hastily dashed away from the door and hid around the corner, hugging the wall. He waited for Roy’s lumbering footsteps to cross the hall and then for the big koopaling’s door to close before poking his head out to look. All clear.

The light-blue shelled koopaling crept down the dark halls, navigating the twists and turns with ease. He climbed the tower stairs till he reached an ornately carved blue and purple door. He knocked twice.

“Oh, who is it? This time of night and in the middle of—”

Larry chirped and whistled.

“Ah!” the warbly old voice cried and the door opened for him. Larry hurried inside, clicking eager greetings. Kammy smiled from her seat across from her brother. They were deep in a very competitive game of Marauders—their favorite strategy game. Suffice it to say, they had a fierce rivalry. She patted her lap and Larry delighted climbed into it, purring and nuzzling her affectionately. “It’s very late, little one. Past your bedtime.”

‘But gam-ma Gammy! I was bein’ a spy!”

Kamek had picked up the captain playing piece to move it forward three spaces but paused mid-action and frowned at the little koopaling’s pronouncement. “What’s this about a spy?”

Kammy tried to speak, but the excited child beat her to it.

‘Gammy says I’m the best spy ever! I see everything! And no one sees me! Because I’m super good at not getting caught!’ he went on, ‘I told Gammy about how that green Mario saved me from the ceiling and she said that we needed to keep an eye out! So, I do! And I tell Gammy everything! Like how the funny doggy keeps going to Luddy’s room and Morton goes too! They been writing letters to the green Mario!”

Kamek’s eyes narrowed he finished his move, then clicked his own displeasure as he shot his older sister a scathing glare.

“And when did you plan on telling me?”

“When it was relevant,” Kammy sniffed, turning her beak up at him.

“Hmph.” Kamek irritatingly tapped the table while she pretended to contemplate her next move. She wasn’t fooling anyone. They were both more interested in Larry’s news than the game.

“Well, Larry, what was so exciting you had to run all this way in the middle of the night to tell grandma?” she cooed sweetly, combing his hair with were gnarled old fingers. He purred for a few moments before bouncing eagerly and exclaiming:

‘Roy found out!’

The adults exchanged a glance over the child’s head.

‘They kinda had a fight, but then Morton told Roy Luigi saved him and now Roy says they have to take him with the next time they meet! Can I go, too, Gammy? Please? I was scared when Mario attacked ‘cuz my favorite spot got destroyed and I fell and I thought I was gonna die before the green Mario caught me. I bit him cuz I thought he was tryin’ to hurt me, but Morton says the human is nice and that he is his friend! I wanna make new friends! Please, can I go?’

“Well…” Kammy was a sucker for those cute little eyes, but it wasn’t her call to make. She nodded at her brother. “You’ll have to ask that old grump, kiddo. He’s the one taking your brothers to the playdate.”

Playdate? How ridiculous. Kamek rolled his eyes…though he supposed she wasn’t wrong. Suddenly the koopaling was climbing up into his lap and chirping sweetly.

‘Please, Grampa Kamek? Please?’

“I suppose…” he was helpless as his sister at resisting that pleading face. “Very well but remember—keep it quiet. We don’t need your other siblings or your father getting suspicious.”

Larry gave a little salute. ‘Yessir Gramps!’

He winced. Gramps, huh? Yowch.

Bowser peered up at Kamek over the top of some paperwork, the frown evident from his eyes alone.

“Are you sure this is necessary?” He asked, unable to keep his tail from twitching.

Kamek nodded, sagely.

“I assure you, your highness, if I could think of a better way, I would recommend it, but the simple fact is Ludwig, Morton, Roy and Larry were very nearly killed in that last attack. Clearly, they need some additional training.”

“Kamek, you’re being so hard on them…”

“And you have been too soft! Son, I promise, it’s a controlled exercise in basic survival skills and lessons designed to fine tune their reaction times.”

“Yes, but couldn’t you do it here on the grounds?” Bowser asked, his bottom lip pushed forward.

“I could,” Kamek admitted, but his frown sharpened, “but there are too many variables outside my control. I’ve selected a nice little spot out in the desert with no one else around. There I can control the entire practice field with my magic unhindered by outside interference. It will be ten times safer.” He set his claw on Bowser’s shoulder. “You know I won’t allow any harm to come to them.”

“I know, dad.” Bowser sighed, shoulders losing their tension, “Alright. When will you—?”

“First thing tomorrow. We’ll be back before nightfall.”

Rumbling noncommittally, but clearly still fretting, Bowser returned to his paperwork.

Okay. Stove: off. Oven: off. Cooking: done. Good. Good. Now what time was—He was getting better at telling the time in the gray skies of the valley, but today the clouds threatened a nasty storm. It was after sunrise. So, they would likely be arriving sometime soon! He washed his hands and was in the process of drying them with a towel when—

Ding Dong!

Doorbell! They were here! Ah, he should have been there to greet them when they landed! Gah! He shouldn’t have lost track of time. He rushed out of the kitchen, jogging down the hall toward the foyer.

DING DONG!

“Un momento, per favore! Sto arrivando!” He finished drying his fingers and took hold of the ornate doorknob, flinging it open. “Hello!” His face broke out in a smile upon seeing Ludwig and Morton on the stoop, “Bambini! Mi dispiace! I lost track of time in the kitchen and—” there were more shapes behind them. Kamek, he’d expected, but…he was stunned when the little one with light blue hair ran up and began chirping wildly at him.

“Uh, heheh…” Ludwig awkwardly rubbed his neck, looking a little embarrassed, while Morton seemed to be pouting.

“Larry heard Luddy and I reading letters. Convinced Kamek to let him come.”

“Oh, I-a see.” Luigi said, kneeling down to look the little guy in the eyes. Wow, those eyes were blue. Even bluer than his. “How have you been, piccolo? I hope you weren’t-a too frightened by the-a collapse in the throne room.”

Larry’s face fell a little and the chirps turned timid. He avoided Luigi’s eyes. Luigi looked to Morton. The star-faced koopaling translated for him.

“Larry says he is sorry for biting.”

Luigi’s smile was warm and sweet. “You don’t have to apologize for-a that, Larry. I-a already forgave you.” The happy trill and tail wag needed no translation. He chuckled. “Are you hungry?”

Larry nodded eagerly and took Luigi’s hand. Morton shifted nervously.

“Luigi?”

“Si, piccolo stella?” he asked. Morton looked nervous and a little upset.

“Can I hold hand, too?”

So that’s what this was. Morton didn’t like Larry getting all the attention. Well, he couldn’t have one of the bambini upset, could he?

“Of course you can, Morton. You know that. Come on,” he held his hand out and Morton took it, “Everyone, please-a come inside!” He tried very hard to pretend he couldn’t feel the wary gaze of two pairs of eyes hidden by glasses and led the way to the kitchen, giving them a little tour. “This is the foyer, that’s the drawing room and the kitchen is-a this way!”

They passed a half-open door and Morton stopped which caused a little traffic jam. Morton pointed.

“What this room?”

“Oh, that’s-a the lounge. Like-a sitting room.”

“But there’s a dress on a weird metal person!”

Luigi chuckled. “Yes, I’ve started using it for my-a sewing room. La principessa Daisy sits and drinks-a tea while I work and we-a talk.”

“Can Morton visit later?” Morton asked, eyes bright with interest. “Want to see Luigi’s dresses.”

“Yes, of-a course. I’d-a love that, Morton.”

Roy crossed his arms over his chest, but the way Morton purred when the human played with his little brother’s hair was nice. Green Mario made Morton happy. It was a bit of a relief. Poor kid had been sooooooo annoyed when Kamek had showed up with Larry in tow and announced that the eight-year-old was coming with. The rest of the procession continued on, but the big koopaling paused to push the door open the rest of the way and poke his head inside. Wendy would love this. He tapped his fingers one at a time against his thigh. She was fine. They’d only be gone a day. He’d see her as soon as he got home. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap…

“Um…uh, piccolo notte?”

Roy jumped. How long had he been standing here? The others must have made it to the kitchen. The green Mario was there alone, looking a little nervous. Frowning, he bristled.

“What did you call me?”

“Oh, uh…” the human was turning red.

“Were you making fun of me or something?!”

“No,” Luigi flung up his hands. “No, piccolo, I would-a never—I, ahaha, piccolo means ‘little one’ and—”

“Do I look little to you?!”

“No, mi dispiace, that’s-a not what I—please, forgive me.”

“What about the rest of it?” Roy asked, shrewdly. “Little one and what? You call Morton piccolo—”

“Stella, si. It means star.”

Roy was struck dumb for a moment. Little star? The only other person who called Morton that was—no, don’t get side-tracked! He reminded himself. “Okay, sure, but you called me—”

“Notte. Piccolo notte.”

“Yeah, that. What’s that mean?”

“Little night.” Luigi said softly.

The koopaling’s pink head tilted forward and a sharp growl had the man squirming.

“You’re very sensitive to-a light, si? I—uh, I’ve been-a reading some-a books on Koopas and—”

“Yeah, I’m a nightling, so what?!” Roy growled, defensively. Nightlings were reclusive. He’d only met one or two others. Most people never met any because their rumored cave towns or underground cities were extremely difficult to find. The few he’d encountered had lived their entire lives on the surface like him. No one really knew if his egg had hatched up top or if he’d somehow got separated from his family and ended up there.

“Nothing, piccolo. I meant-a no harm, I just—”

“My name is Roy.”

“Roy. I apologize, I really didn’t mean—”

“You talk too much.” He grumbled, pushing past the human. He headed towards his sibling’s excited voices and the tempting smell of food. The others were seated at a little wooden table helping themselves to funny floppy things. His nose twitched. Hmm, smelled edible, but—

Morton saw him and he couldn’t help but smile at the way his little brother’s face lit up.

“Roy! Come try pan-cakes! Sit with Morton!” Morton patted the seat beside him.

Roy smiled. He did as Morton said, purring when Morty leaned over to rub shoulders and mix their scents together. It was a simple little action, but it made him feel more at ease than he had since they entered. Morton piled some of these ‘pancakes’ on his empty plate.

“Thanks, Morty.”

Morton chirped before resuming the act of devouring an entire pancake in one bite.

Luigi laughed. He’d taken the only remaining seat, at the head of the table. “Traditionally, humans eat pancakes with syrup,” he picked up the funny shaped bottle on the table and poured it over his own stack of pancakes. He cut a little piece with a fork and knife, stabbed it and offered it to Morton. “Would you like to try, piccolo stella?”

Morton opened his mouth and let the human feed him. Roy frowned at the abject display of trust, but didn’t have much time to worry about it because suddenly Morton’s tail was wagging furiously.

“MMM! SWEET! Give please!” he said, and Luigi happily obliged, handing him the syrup bottle and trying not to wince as Morton’s pancakes were drowned in the stuff.

“On your head be it, human.” Kamek groaned. “When the inevitable sugar rush sets in, you’ll get no help from me.”

Again, the human threw back his head and laughed. Roy used the moment to study him. Well, Roy thought, he looks a lot less like Mario when he isn’t wearing the same dumb outfit. Luigi had on a striped green and white sweater with jeans and that silly hat was nowhere in sight.

Larry chirped eagerly and Morton passed the syrup. Man, poor human was in for it. He smiled, darkly. Inadvertently he made glasses to glasses contact with Kamek and the old koopa was smirking too. He could hardly wait. This was gonna be fun…

“I’ve been reading the books you leant me.”

“Oh, si, piccolo?” Luigi leaned in, interested. “And how are you liking them?”

“They’re fascinating. Thank you so much for lending them to me! Sorry, I should have brought the one I finished to return to you!”

“Piccolo musicista, I told you—please-a keep them! I have no use for them. I am not-a musical person.”

“You hum just fine.” Ludwig said, grinning.

Luigi turned red. “Ah, you’re just-a being kind.”

“You never played an instrument even though your grandmother played the piano?”

“Well,” Luigi’s cheeks were turning red again and Ludwig got very excited.

“Then you do? What do you play?”

“It’s been a very long time…”

Ludwig’s palms slapped the table as he stood up too fast and nearly fell forward. “You have to tell me! Please! I have so many instruments! I could lend you—”

“Sometimes I-a play the upright bass.”

Ludwig’s eyes were sparkling the way they only ever did where music was concerned.

“We will play together someday.” He declared.

“As long as you don’t mind me being a little-a rusty, piccolo.” Luigi smiled.

“LUIGI!” Morton exclaimed, making the poor human jump at the sudden volume. “Kamek showed Morton Morton’s family tree!”

That was new information to Roy and Larry. They both listened intently. Luigi granted Morton his undivided attention.

“Really? That’s-a wonderful piccolo. Were there lots of metal wielders like you?”

Morton’s tail wagged furiously as he nodded.

“Mmhm! Morton saw lots of ferric koopas like me! And Morton saw Pa Morton! He looked just like me!”

No one bothered to point out that technically it was Morton who looked like his dad. Ludwig snickered and added, “Yeah, except grumpier. But that might have just been the painting.”

Morton giggled along, then he touched Luigi’s arm gently.

“Saw my mom, too.”

“Si, piccolo?” Luigi asked, with real care in his eyes. “What was she like?”

“Pretty. The prettiest koopa Morton ever saw!”

That made Luigi’s heart swell, how sweet. Morton really was just the sweetest of sweethearts.

“She was copper wielder.”

“Copper? I didn’t see anything about copper wielders in my book.”

“Book?” Morton asked, curiously.

“Si, I’ve been reading about different kinds of koopas, piccolo. Daisy she-a has the most excellent library and I-a borrowed a few things.”

“Oh.” Then the star-faced koopaling went on, eagerly, “Kamek says she was last of copper wielding family!”

“Wowie Zowie. That’s very cool, piccolo stella. Does that mean you can use copper magic as well as-a iron?” Luigi asked.

Morton shrugged, but he looked hopeful. “Morton going to try. Kamek will help!” then hesitantly, he eyed his grandfather, “…Right?”

Kamek responded with the gentlest, kindest smile Luigi had ever seen from the magikoopa.

“Of course, Prince Morton. Gladly.”

The gray koopaling’s purr rumbled through everyone at the table. As this discussion went on for a little while and Morton told Luigi about Kamek knowing his mother and about all the different kinds of metal wielders there were, Roy cut his pancakes the way he’d seen Luigi do it and took a bite. Hmmm…not bad. From the other side of the table, Larry passed him the syrup and chirped try it. Tentatively, he did. Okay. That was actually really good. Fine. Luigi could cook. The human got up, looking a little embarrassed.

“Ah, I forgot-a drinks. Bambini, do you want water? Juice? Kamek, I can do-a coffee, tea?”

“Tea would be…welcome.” Kamek admitted, reluctantly, failing to entirely conceal his interest. What kind of tea could the human possibly have? And did Luigi even know how to prepare it properly? Hmmm. He would see.

“Juice please!” Morton said. Larry chirped and he added, “Larry want juice too.”

“Water is fine,” Ludwig declared, making eye contact with Roy who nodded, “Roy’s fine with that too.”

The rest of the breakfast conversation was…fine. Roy was awkwardly looped in a few times by Morton or Ludwig, but he was happier just listening and watching. Luigi treated his siblings with respect. That was nice. People who didn’t know how to act around them often treated them like they were dumb just because they were kids, but Luigi wasn’t like that. The biggest koopaling was beginning to understand why Morton liked him. He listened and responded in kind. Roy could also hardly fail to notice how patient he was with Morty. Not once did Luigi rush or try to correct him and Morton had done more talking over the course of breakfast than Roy had heard in a very very long time. Not just responding when spoken to but actively leading the conversation. Roy was glad. Confidence was very good for Morty. Kid could always use more of it. Hmmm. He guessed Luigi wasn’t so bad…

Chapter Text

Hmph…the tea wasn’t bad. Of course, the clumsy creature had tripped over his own feet and very nearly dropped the whole pot before catching himself…Elegant the green Mario brother decidedly was not. But the tea was fine. Kamek sipped it slowly. A nice fruity green tea. Hmmm, star berry, probably, with a touch of elderflower. Mid-sip, he caught the human’s blue eyes and remarked politely:

“A delicate blend. Purchased from Toad Tea house, I presume? Their quality seems to have improved since last I tried it.”

“Actually, it’s-a one of mine. The toad tea house, their teas are a little-a bland for my taste.” Luigi said, blowing gently on his own cup before taking a sip and humming softly. “This was my first attempt with elderflowers. I’mma not sure it was a complete success.”

“Star berries would pair better in a blend with rose hips. Not only does it yield brighter taste, the color is much more attractive.” Kamek was giving notes for some moments before he recalled precisely who he was talking to. His beak clicked closed and he covertly reached into the sleeve of his robe to touch his wand.

Luddy caught the movement at once. He didn’t want there to be an upset so he created a distraction by clearing his throat and standing up.

“I’m finished!” he declared, “Where should do we put used plates?”

“Oh, the sink is fine, piccolo, but I can—” Luigi set down his cup of tea and went to take it, only by then it was floating its way over to the sink. Ludwig’s wand glowed softly until the plate finished its journey. Luigi’s stunned face became a smile. “Very good, Ludwig. I wish I could do that. It would save a lot of-a time!”

“It’s just basic magic. Does the human world really have no magic at all?”

“None at all, sadly. Sometimes it seems-a too bad, but I think maybe its-a better that way.”

“Why’s that?” Ludwig asked, genuinely curious why anyone would wish for a world without magic.

Luigi’s face took on a pained and weary edge. “My world, it’s-a very different. There are lots-a the good people.”

“Like Luigi?” Morton asked, interested.

The human blushed brightly and patted the gray koopaling’s head. “Thank you, Morton, that’s-a very kind of you to say.”

“Why? It’s true. Luigi a good person.”

This time Luigi’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Ludwig frowned. Was it because of everything that happened with Mario that Luigi judged himself so harshly? Or something more than that? What reason had the man to think so little of his own character? That line of thought didn’t get very far, however, because Luigi started speaking again.

“But for all-a the good in-a the human world…sometimes, it’s-a not so nice. There’s-a lots of-a wars and-a illnesses.”

“But magic could help!” Morton said, not really understanding.

“Or it could make everything worse,” Ludwig pointed out, “Powerful magic can do as much bad as it can good.”

“Si, exactly, piccolo,” Luigi whispered. “I fear that-a power would fall in the wrong hands.”

Dour silence settled over the room. Luigi broke it with a very nervous laugh.

“Hehe, mi dispiace. It looks like everyone is-a done eating!” He noticed. “We should go-a to the garden! I have-a surprise for you!”

“For Morton?!” Morton jumped up and his tail started wagging, smacking the chair behind him. Whack, whack, whack. Luigi laughed.

“For you and-a Ludwig, piccolo! But I hope your-a siblings will like it, too!”

Roy crossed his arms over his chest. Doubtful, but he supposed he’d go and see. Larry clicked and warbled holding up both arms in a gesture even Luigi couldn’t fail to recognize. The green Mario scooped up his little bro. Roy didn’t like it. He growled a little before he could catch himself. Two pairs of blue eyes anxiously turned his way. Luddy and Morty were frowning. Dang it…he was messing everything up…They were all upset with him.

“S-sorry.” He snapped, running from the room as quickly as he could.

“Roy—” Luddy called after him, but he was glad that no one chased him down the hall. He went into the sitting room. It was best. It reminded him of Wendy’s sewing room. Wendy…She’d be fine. Nothing would happen while they were away. His family would be fine. They’d only be here a few more hours…they’d be home by dark. Everything would be fine. That wasn’t enough time for anything to happen.

Mario had only needed three hours. No. No, it was fine. They’d be fine. His fingers were tapping his thigh again. One at a time. Tap tap tap tap…tap tap tap tap…

“Roy?” called that annoying nasally voice. He closed his eyes.

“Go away.”

“Is-a everything alright?” Luigi asked. Blue eyes locked on the tapping. Roy had been doing that before, too. He decided to try offering a distraction. “This is-a my favorite room in the house. I like-a the light. Even on-a dreary days like-a this—”

“Enough, alright? Just—just shut up.”

The silence lasted all of thirty seconds.

“Do you like it in here, piccolo?” then Luigi caught his mistake, “uh, mi dispiace! Roy.”

“It’s—” tap tap tap tap… “Reminds me of my sister.”

“Ah,” Luigi recalled earlier mentions of the koopa princess in the context of clothes and fashion, “um, Wendy, si?”

Roy’s face finally turned toward him. Even without seeing the koopaling’s eyes he could recognize the silent warning. Tap tap tap tap…

“Yeah…She likes making clothes.”

“I see,” Luigi said, uncertain how best to proceed, but prepared to do his very best. The tapping was starting to concern him though. Roy hadn’t stopped. “Piccolo notte…please come to the garden with us.”

“They’ll have more fun without me.”

“That’s not true. Ludwig is-a very worried.” Luigi’s certainty stunned Roy into silence. Stern confidence was new. “I would-a like you to come with me, per favore, because I do not-a want to leave you alone right now.”

“Already noticed there’s something wrong with me, huh?” Roy scoffed.

“I can tell something is-a bothering you, piccolo notte.” He took a risk and reached out, laying his hand on Roy’s shoulder. He didn’t move. Just let his touch convey his presence.

Roy couldn’t lie…it felt nice. He didn’t like Luigi exactly, but having the human around was enough of a distraction that he could half ignore the thoughts.

“I get stuck on things in my head. Right now, I keep thinking something could happen to Wendy while I’m gone. Do you have any idea what that’s like? To be afraid of things all the time? To be so completely consumed by the thoughts that you waste time and effort and lose sleep and—You couldn’t even begin to understand—”

“I can, piccolo. I know how it feels to be afraid. Maybe I don’t understand-a everything. But I-a understand that. Everyone calls me a coward. It’s-a true. I am. I can admit that. Why don’t you tell me a bit about-a your sister?”

“Why?” Roy’s eyes narrowed behind the sunglasses.

“Because maybe it could-a help to work through the thoughts?”

“Hmph. I dunno,” Roy was doubtful, but he supposed anything was better than being stuck in here worrying. “What do you wanna know?”

“Well, what’s she like?”

“She’s—she’s always there for me. I can always count on her. No matter what. So—so I gotta be there for her. If anything happened to her—”

“Slow down, piccolo-er, Roy. Is she a nightling also?”

“No. Or if she is, she’s half and didn’t inherit the eyesight. We dunno if we’re actual siblings or not. We’ve just always been together. Since the beginning.”

“I see. Since Bowser took you in?”

Roy’s snout wrinkled. “What, you don’t even know about us?”

Luigi shook his head. He wasn’t sure what the koopaling meant, but neither Ludwig or Morton had mentioned how their other siblings came to be adopted by the koopa king…only that they had. He did recall that Morton had intimated that only the two of them remembered their parents. But then…

“Wendy and I were wastelings.”

Apparently that also meant nothing to the human. Because of course it didn’t.

“You know, unwanteds.” He growled. “Kids just tossed out like yesterday’s garbage!”

“Piccolo…” Luigi’s eyes watered.

“Dad was traveling through some of the outskirt towns near the sand wastes…He had a big entourage and a camp and…and a lot of food…” Roy still felt guilty that the first time they’d met dad had been when they were trying to steal from him. “We went in to steal some and—someone heard us…They sent troopas after us.”

“How old were you, piccolo notte?”

He supposed he didn’t mind the nickname too much. Luigi said it with affection, not ridicule.

“W-we were around Junior’s age. Seven or so.”

“Your father sent-a the troopas after you?” Luigi asked incredulously.

“It was nighttime. They—nobody actually saw us but during the chase. W-Wendy got hurt. I couldn’t stand it. She needed bandages. The camp was the only thing close by and I knew they’d have some. I went back by myself only I got caught by Kamek. He brought me to dad. I already had the bandages. I kept trying to escape, but they kept keeping me there until—until—”

It was the worst moment of his life. The very worst. Knowing she was hurt and probably still bleeding. Knowing he had what she needed, but completely unable to reach her. She was all he had. His only friend. The only one who ever mattered…

“Let me go! LET ME GO!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Kid, calm down! We’re not going to hurt you, please—” the giant gold and green spikey blurr holding him said. Roy was pulling like mad, striking wildly, flailing to try and get away, but the lights were on. He couldn’t see well enough…it was too bright.

“YOU ALREADY HURT HER! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!”

“Her?” their arms loosened. It was all the leverage he needed. He weaved away. He heard the swish of a spell, but miraculously it missed. What he didn’t know—couldn’t know, because he couldn’t see—was that Bowser had deliberately fouled the magikoopa’s aim.

The king of the dark lands ignored Kamek’s glare and said, “Let’s go after him.”

Roy was in too big a hurry to look behind him. It didn’t take long to make it across the sand dunes back to their most current nest. Wendy chirped and whined in pain as she asked where he’d gone. Her nose caught the scent of strangers on his scales, and she sat up too fast.

“Augh!” she hissed, then sniffled, clinging to his arm. He held her tight and wrapped the bandages around her bleeding leg.

“You’ll be okay. Gotta. Please.”

“Shut up. I’m cold.” She said, curling up against him. She was shaking.

Footsteps nearby. Heavy ones. He looked up. They’d followed him?! His growl rattled Wendy back to wakefulness. She looked around and found them. She tried to get up too fast and put weight on her injured leg. With a pained shriek, she started to fall. He tried to catch her, but something else got her first. Magic. It glowed around her.

“NO! LEAVE HER ALONE! LEAVE HER ALONE! HURT ME INSTEAD! PLEASE! I’M THE ONE WHO STOLE! LEAVE HER—” Strong arms were wrapping around him again.

“Easy there. Hush…hush now. It’s alright. Kamek isn’t hurting anyone, I promise. He’s going to make her better.”

“Roy!”

“Wendy!” he called, trying to fight, but getting nowhere. Tears filled his eyes. “Please let her go!”

Kamek’s beak wrinkled. “It’s a deep stab wound, sire. Made by a sharp point at high velocity—”

“We just wanted food!” Roy sobbed. “They threw spears!”

“That was you?” Bowser asked softly. He’d assumed from the clumsiness of the theft that it was a chomp or maybe some wayward spikeys…If he’d known it was a pair of koopalings, he’d never have sent troopas to frighten them off. Spikeys and chomps wouldn’t have been hurt by the spears… “Kamek, will she be—”

“It’s almost all the way to the bone. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

“But you can heal her?” he asked, sharply. Letting out a the breath he'd been holding only when his dad nodded. Kamek’s wand glowed warmly with a healing spell. It wrapped around her. Bowser’s chest ached at her broken whine.

“Stop! It hurts!”

“Wendy!” Roy started struggling anew.

“The pain won’t last long,” Kamek urged, cooing softly, “Shhh, it’s almost closed.”

She shivered. Sure enough, after a few excruciating moments, the pain subsided. Suddenly she felt very, very tired. And cold. “R-roy…I’m sleepy…” She slumped. Kamek floated forward and caught her. She was far too thin. “Son, let him go.”

Bowser released the bigger one. The koopaling stomped over and glared up at the magikoopa holding his sister.

“Give her back!”

“I have healed her wound, little one, but she’s still in a bad way. She bled too much. I have a potion that can help her back at camp.”

Roy was wary. “If you give her the potion…she’ll be okay?”

“Yes.”

“B-but,” he bit his lip, “we don’t have any money…can’t afford potions…”

“It won’t cost anything, child. She’s hurt and she needs help. We won’t charge you for that.” He cleared his throat and asked, “Do you have parents? They should be informed.”

“’S just me and Wendy. Always unwanted.”

“Roy, right?” Bowser asked softly. Roy nodded. “C’mon. Let’s get your sister back to camp. Kamek will give her the potion. Are you hungry?”

He shifted. He was…of course, he was. But Wendy…

“She’ll be alright. I promise.”

“We stayed in dad’s camp until Kamek said it was safe for Wendy. We were going to leave, but Dad asked us to stay. It was food and shelter and free healing, so we stayed with them for the rest of the trip…and then…”

“And then, piccolo?” Luigi asked softly, having sat next to him on the couch. They were arm to arm. It was comfortable. The human was warm.

“He took us home.”

Luigi couldn’t help but smile. Of course, Bowser had. Those eyes like molten lava desperate and shining that cooled to smoldering embers…Luigi recalled how steam billowed out the flared nostrils of that monstrous form. Despite that, the plumber felt no less certain now than he had then that they’d gained a mutual understanding. The intensity of the memory made him shudder.

Roy didn’t notice.

“Dad introduced us to Mom and the others—Back then it was just Luddy, Iggs, and Lemmy—Wendy and I didn’t want anything to do with them at first. Well, Wendy was fine. I—I’m the one who had trouble—” he trailed off. Luigi leaned forward, indulgently, and he sighed, “I have trouble adjusting to stuff. So, it’s not like I hate you or anything. I’m not sure I like you either,” he admitted, a touch defensively.

“That’s-a A-okay, piccolo notte—er, Roy.”

He rolled his eyes. “Look, just call me whatever. All your apologies and correctin’ gives me a headache.”

He didn’t really understand why humans smiled so much. Luigi was looking at him like he’d just forked over a giant present or something. He tapped his fingers on his thigh again, but a bit more slowly this time. The castle could be under attack again…No, they were fine. Wendy was fine. She’d be—

“It is difficult to be apart from the people you care about, especially those you are so-a close to, without worrying, even just-a the littlest bit.” Luigi said, briefly touching his arm and offering a sympathetic smile, before giving him a some space.

“Oh, yeah?” this guy sure thinks he knows a lot, he thought. His snout wrinkled with distaste as another thought occurred, “Suppose you’re missing Mario.” Roy spat the name with all his hatred for the little mustached man.

“I am far too angry with Mario to be-a missing him, at-a the moment.”

It was said so quickly with such effortless conviction that Roy didn’t doubt it, but the statement astounded him, nonetheless. He didn’t ask why Luigi was angry. Who wouldn’t be angry at Mario? But he was Mario’s brother, right? So…Roy beat his brain a bit trying to puzzle that out when the man suddenly spoke again.

“But even-a though I am furious…I still-a worry about him.”

“Why?” Roy asked, disgusted. Then, annoyed, he pointed out the most obvious flaw in the whole business, “What could even happen to Mario?” He was surprised when Luigi’s anxious face split into nervous laughter.

“The number of times I’ve had to save that hot-headed idiota…” Luigi rolled his eyes, a far-away look settling over him as he reminisced. Roy crossed both arms over his plastron, firmly disbelieving.

“Yeah, like when?”

“Ah! Don’t-a get me started! There was-a this time back in-a Brooklyn, he went and-a picked a fight with some guys-a twice his size! He would have been-a cooked if I hadn’t-a found out and-a showed up to pull him-a outta there!” Luigi’s face did a kinda funny thing when talking about Mario like this. The lines in his cheeks softened, his eyes lifted a little at the corners and he seemed almost brighter. Slowly it began to dawn on Roy that if Luigi was a real person with real complexities like this…Mario was too. And the more he heard, the less colossal the red plumber seemed. “And I’ve-a had to rescue him from King Boo! TWICE! So-a what if the first-a time wasn’t his fault, how he managed to get himself-a captured again, I—”

“You really care about him, huh?”

Reminded of the circumstances that had led them here and his present company, Luigi’s smile turned melancholic.

“Si, piccolo notte…we’re twins,” Luigi was staring at the floorboards and didn’t catch the koopaling’s astonished expression. “We’ve always-a been together.” Finally, he glanced over at Roy, sheepishly. “Kinda like you and-a Wendy. I can always worry about him. Even when we’re not-a getting along. Capiche?”

Roy didn’t need to understand gibberish to sense what the human was asking. He considered. It was hard to imagine Wendy ever doing anything that could make him really furious with her but he got where Luigi was coming from. He nodded.

“Okay. I get that.” They shared a comfortable silence for a little while before he said, “But don’t go getting the wrong idea! Wendy’s a powerhouse. She’s way cooler than your pathetic excuse for a brother!”

Dark eyebrows rose and Luigi’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “Oh?”

“Yeah! She’s quick and she hits harder than a truck! She’s also got crazy bite strength. Anything that gets near her mouth in a fight is either getting crushed or bit clean off!” He boasted. “And if you think this is something—” he gestured around them at Luigi’s sewing projects, scoffing, “—you should see what she can do! She’s the best. The very best!”

Luigi laughed. Roy smiled. Luigi wasn’t laughing at him or at what he was saying. Just reveling in the pride he had for his sister.

“You know, piccolo notte, the more you speak of her, the less I think you have to worry about. It sounds as though your sister, she can-a take care of herself. I’m sure when you get home, she’ll be there-a waiting.”

“Yeah,” he hadn’t tapped in a while…yeah…guess talking about it had helped. But it wasn’t just that. Luigi had been patient and kind. His brothers were waiting. Luigi could have just gone out into the yard and left him to stew in his thoughts, but the human had taken the time to come and speak with him like this. He stood up. “I get why Morty likes you.”

Staying seated a little while longer, Luigi looked up at the big koopaling, wishing he could see what was going on behind the sunglasses. Earning Roy’s trust would be a lot easier were he able to get a better read on the teen. He had a feeling he was doing fine. Only, he couldn’t really be sure. Oh well, he’d take what he could get.

“Aren’t you coming, greenie?”

“Si, piccolo! I’mma right behind you! You can call-a me Luigi!”

“Hmph. Yeah, keep dreamin’ string bean.”

The garden was a bit gloomy, but the hedges were neat and well groomed. When they got there, it seemed Ludwig and Kamek were playing hide-and-seek with Lary and Morton. They turned at Luigi and Roy’s arrival. Ludwig chirped and surprised Roy by grabbing his arm and pulling him to down to whisper in his ear. Roy’s mouth slowly curled into a smile and he nodded. They split and went down opposite sides of the hedgerows. Luigi watched with interest. He jumped about three feet when a yell and a shriek rent the air. He started forward, urgently, but encountered a magical wall. He shot the magikoopa a bewildered look. Kamek looked almost…amused?

“You’re just like my son,” Kamek lamented, “So quick to worry.”

“But—” he faltered. Peach had said Kamek and Kammy were like parents to Bowser. Was that who Kamek meant when he said ‘his son’? Or—

The shrieks came rushing toward them, becoming a flurry of giggles. Chirps and squeals interspersed them and soon Morton and Larry appeared running as fast as they could, bright smiles on their faces. Morton ran around Luigi trying to hide behind him.

“Luigi! Dun let them close! They cheat! It tickles!”

“Scusi?” he asked, looking up at Morton over his shoulder. Larry was climbing him like he was a jungle gym. His arms automatically reached up to provide support when the little koopaling reached his shoulders. Larry’s little claws swept through his curls and gently tugged to get his attention. A sweet trill and a few short chirps followed, then Larry’s face rubbed against the top of his head.

“Larry says Luigi’s hair is soft,” Morton translated.

Luigi’s face felt hot. He closed his eyes and smiled awkwardly. “T-thank you, piccolo.”

“There they are!” Ludwig exclaimed, appearing from hedges and pointing their direction. “Roy! They went this way!” Stomping footsteps began a rapid approach. Luddy darted forward circling them and Morton did the same, trying to keep Luigi between them. “You can’t hide behind Luigi forever!”

“Can too!”

The poor man was getting slightly nervous. Ludwig’s wand was raised. Morton had said it tickled but Koopas did seem a lot hardier than humans…

“Boo!”

Luigi jumped. Larry chirruped and held on tight and the human apologized. Ludwig was on one side, Roy on the other. Uh-oh.

“Gotcha!” Roy crowed, raising his wand at the same time as Ludwig. Feathers appeared all around them. Funny, they looked a little bit like cape feathers…AH!

All three of them erupted into simultaneous laughter as the cavalcade of feathers started doing their worst.

“Ahahahahahahaha! Abbi pietà! Pietà! Piccolo musicista! Piccolo notte, per favore!” he wheezed.

“Well,” Ludwig said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, “I guess that’s enough...huh, Roy?”

“Huh,” Roy snorted. “I dunno...”

“Bambini! Hahahahaha! I still have—hahaha—to show you your surprise!” Luigi barely managed through the laughter. Thankfully that reminder seemed to do the trick.

Ludwig nodded at Roy. Their wands glowed together and the feathers vanished. The laughter slowly faded into silence. Morton rushed forward and punched his big brother in the plastron.

“Luddy and Roy no fair!”

Roy trapped him in a headlock and rubbed his head, “Awww, love you too, little brother.”

Luigi blushed a little when Larry started playing with his hair again, chirping softly. There had to be some way he could learn to understand their language...he didn’t want to have to rely solely on the others translating. For now though, “What is your brother saying, piccolo stella?”

Morton hadn’t been listening. He felt embarrassed. He clicked.

Larry repeated the same chirps as before much quieter, curling close to Luigi’s hair and rubbing his face against the side of the human’s head. The three koopalings and Kamek all leant forward.

Roy rumbled something back, but Larry shook his head side to side and just curled closer to Luigi. The man was concerned. He waited for someone to tell him what was being said, but no one did. Hmmm. Ludwig’s chirps chimed something as well and finally so did Morton. Tiny claws tapped Luigi’s head and he looked up into those big, light-blue eyes. This time, the chirps were unmistakeably meant for him. He appealed to the others for help. Kamek obliged.

“He wants a ‘special name.’ His words, not mine.”

It took Luigi a few seconds longer than it should have to realize what Larry meant. Oh. He supposed he had been calling the others his little nicknames all day. It was only fair they all have one. He lifted the little one down and dropped to one knee so they were a bit more level.

Larry wasn’t very pleased by this. He missed the warm, soft curls...Luigi gently stroked his hair and he purred, tail wagging when the human smiled at him. He liked Luigi. Luigi was nice.

“Well, piccolo. A nickname is-a no good at all unless it suits you! Ah! Guarda quello!” He touched the side of Larry’s head, tracing the blue star shaped mark with his finger. Larry leaned away from the motion. The wag stilled and the koopaling’s body language changed to nervous, but Luigi was musing, “You have a star as well. A birthmark?”

Larry nodded a little hesitantly. Luigi remembered what Ludwig had once told him about the old Koopa superstitions surrounding birthmarks. In fact, now that he noticed, all the other koopas present had tensed. Larry was softly shaking. The longer the human stood stunned, the harder the little one’s bottom lip trembled. He brushed the koopaling’s cheek with his thumb and smiled.

“I think it’s-a very cute, piccolo. Why, there could be two piccolo stella,” before Morton could do any more than frown, he hurried on, “but I think you deserve-a your own nickname, si?” What were the tears in those bright blue eyes? Upset or joy? Neither. Going by the way the tension sagged...it was relief? He could try and decipher that later. For now, “Tell me, Larry. What is your favorite thing in the whole world?”

Larry leaned forward, excitedly, almost as though the atmosphere moments prior had never existed. He chirped animatedly and with great speed. Ludwig’s face creased with confusion, but he dutifully translated:

“He says: He likes to play spy.”

Clapping his hands together, Luigi exclaimed, “Ah! Una spia! You-a spy on your siblings, piccolo?”

Chirp! Trill click click. Larry nodded enthusiasitcally.

“On everyone.”

“Oh, you are a very good spy then, eh?”

Larry nodded, puffing out his chest.

“Then I will-a call you il mio piccolo occhio!”

Chirp?

He tapped his cheek just under his eye. “It means-a ‘my little eye’! And-a you can tell me about all-a your spy adventures! Si?”

Click!

Luigi smiled and held out his hand and Larry took it eagerly.

“Now, I-a must show you your-a surprise! This way bambini!” He led them past the hedges to where the back patio steps led down to an expanse of gravel that gave way to a wide dirt path between two patches of lawn. Before the lawns began, however, two identical long, rectangular areas had been cleared. They were slightly raised, bordered neatly by carefully laid brick. Inside the dirt was smooth and compacted.

Ludwig’s and Morton’s tails began to wag as soon as they saw them.

“Yes!” the eldest said, excited. “Finally a rematch!”

“Morton will beat Luddy!” Morton said, pushing his big brother as they raced toward the left court.

“Just you try!” Ludwig said, lightly shoving Morton back.

Larry chirped in confusion, watching them go. Roy asked, “What is this?”

“It’s-a bocce court.” Right, they would need to learn how to play. “Morton!” he called, and the star-faced koopaling turned to look. “Would you mind making an extra set of-a balls? I want to-a teach your brothers how to play.”

“Oh! Morton can teach! Can rematch Luddy later!” he promised his big brother before excitedly rushing back over. He shot Luigi a fleeting hesitant glance. “Okay if I teach?”

“Of-a course, piccolo stella. I would love that. Would you like me to stay? Or do you want to teach all by-a yourself?”

“Luigi has to stay!” Morton declared, then his eyes took on a very excited glint. “I gets to make the balls! What patterns?!”

“Haha, whatever you like, Morton,” Luigi chuckled. It seemed that was a little too much creative freedom as Morton seemed unable to decide, so he suggested, “How about-a some with a stars on them?”

“Yeah!” Clap! Four balls with stars on them materialized. “Oooh, Morton has idea!” Clap! A second set appeared with etchings of little fire flowers.

“Wowie Zowie Morton! These are-a perfect! I love-a the patterns!” he patted the kid’s head and the next thing he knew he was engulfed in a tight hug. Morton’s head nuzzled his neck, scenting him. He nuzzled back.

“Thanks Luigi!” the hug was over as suddenly as it had begun and Morton started explaining the rules of the game to the others.

Luigi’s attention was diverted from Morton’s bocce lesson by a gentle tug on his arm from behind. He turned. It was Ludwig. The eldest motioned him to come closer, so he turned slightly away from the others and leaned in close.

“Thank you,” Ludwig whispered, eyes very serious. Luigi was confused. The teenager explained, “Earlier with Larry. When you pointed out his birthmark…he was scared you were going to reject him.”

“Reject him? Why would I—”

“I told you. Some koopas think birth marks with definitive shapes are an omen. A tiding of misfortune. Larry’s parents…” Ludwig’s voice dropped even more and he leaned in to speak directly into Luigi’s ear, “They surrendered him because of it.”

“What?!” Luigi had to pull away and smile, pretending that nothing was going on, as the other three briefly glanced over at them. However, the second their faces turned away, he bent down to speak more with the eldest. “They just—because of his-a birthmark?!”

Ludwig’s face was tightly drawn. He nodded.

“Yeah. He was freshly hatched, only a day or two old. They just left him in a basket at the castle gates with a note for dad.” He gulped at the rage barely being kept from exploding out the human’s mouth. Luigi’s face burned with vengeful fury.

Luigi wanted very much to fly into a string of curses in his mother tongue, but he didn’t want to break the lighthearted atmosphere. The bambini deserved some time to smile. He could save his curses for later…

“Prince Ludwig.”

They both jumped a little at the sound of Kamek’s voice so close by. The magikoopa had been hovering on the sidelines observing for so long they’d almost forgotten he was there. Luigi squirmed under the reflected light of those ominous spectacles. He could feel Kamek’s eyes on him, even though he couldn’t see them.

“Please help Morton and the others learn this game of yours. I would like a word with the Mario brother. In private.”

Ludwig hesitated, shooting a nervous glance between them. Kamek smiled. “Don’t worry, my prince. We’ll be right over there, by the patio,” he gestured. The teenager relented.

“Fine,” he looked to Luigi, “just call out if you need anything.”

Luigi wasn’t fooled and neither was Kamek. Ludwig might as well have said he’d be watching them the entire time. Because it was obvious he intended to. Kamek’s broom floated alongside as Luigi traipsed over toward the patio.

“You submitted an official report to the council of allied kingdoms.”

“Si, it was-a the least I could—”

“You did it for them,” Kamek interrupted. If the human was smart, he wouldn’t bother wasting time and energy to deny the truth or ask him how he came by it. Watching this creature interacting with his grandchildren all day, it was obvious.

“I had to do something.”

“So, you destroy your reputation? Risk your life?”

“Pfft. Peach’s-a toads don’t have the guts-a to try anything.” He sneered.

“That’s not what I meant,” he stared flatly into blue eyes and they gleamed eerily back. “Surely, you realize you’ve made an enemy in your very own brother?”

“Mario cannot hurt me,” Luigi said, smiling so sweetly it took the koopa advisor aback. “He would-a sooner die.”

“Hmph, then perhaps his artlessness should have been kidnapping you…” he lay an old gnarled claw over his lips, not seeing Luigi’s growing blush. “What do you stand to gain?” Those glasses flashed. “What do you possibly get from any of this, hmmmm?”

“Peace of mind knowing they’re safe.” Came a low, almost growly retort.

Interesting. Very, very interesting…

Roy and Larry loved playing bocce. The four siblings played and played and played, occasionally switching opponents or courts, having an absolute blast. Luigi was barely able to convince them to take a break for some lunch but succeeded once he suggested he bring out some sandwiches for them. Soon as they were done eating, they were eager for a few more rounds. This time Ludwig came out the overall winner. Roy intimated it was only because Luddy’d had time to play before. Ludwig was not fooled.

“You’re just upset ‘cuz I beat you in a sport!”

“That’s not a sport!”

“Is too! It’s an outdoor game played with balls!”

“Not all sports are—”

“Doesn’t matter! I won!” Ludwig blew a raspberry at him.

“Why, you—” Roy lunged. Ludwig dodged, then pounced to retaliate. It became a full-blown wrestling match. Roy might have won, if Luddy hadn’t cheated by using magic to poof a few feet away. “Cheater!”

“I call it ‘being resourceful’!”

“Ugh! You’re just a cheater…”

Ludwig smirked, “And you’re still just jealous!”

Morton skipped ahead a little to catch up to Luigi and grab the human’s hand. Luigi’s eyes found his.

“Can see Luigi’s dresses now?”

“Si, piccolo stella! Of-a course you can!”

He led everyone back to the sitting room. Morton and Larry were more interested in his clothes than Ludwig and Roy, but the teenagers were kind enough to sit quietly on the couch while Luigi indulged them. Morton had lots of questions. Where Luigi got materials, where the colors came from, if Luigi’d used the dye he’d made from the grapple berries…

“Si! Actually I used-a some on-a this!” he nudged the dress currently pinned to the metal dress form out from beside the shadowy curtains. “See?”

“Pretty.” Morton said, awed. Larry nodded agreement. Eyes brightening, the gray koopaling asked, “Luigi try it on?”

“Well, I—I don’t know…it’s a bit-a fancy for me, piccolo.”

“Luigi should try!” Morton urged, “Please?”

“Oh…alright! Wait here.” He disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door. He didn’t come out for five whole minutes, but when he finally did—

Morton’s eyes widened. Luigi looked really nice. Larry immediately was back to the usual climbing antics, but Luigi put a quick stop to that by setting the little koopaling directly on his shoulders for a piggy-back ride.

“Luigi looks really beautiful,” Morton declared. The human turned red.

“T-hank you Morton. You’re too kind.”

“No. Morton is right.”

The rest of the quick browse through his projects was short and uneventful. He hadn’t had the luxury of moving all of his clothes over from the Mushroom kingdom, so his wardrobe had grown a bit limited. He said as much. Morton frowned.

“Are toads still mean to Luigi?”

Luigi sighed. “Si, piccolo.” Ignoring Morton’s growl, he went on, “They think I betrayed my kingdom. In a way, I suppose they are-a right.”

“No. Toads are wrong and stupid.”

“That’s-a not a very nice thing to say, piccolo stella.”

“Nasty toads aren’t nice to Luigi. Morton get to call them stupid.” The star-faced koopaling declared and Luigi grinned. He supposed that was fair.

“Yeah, well, you know,” Roy piped up, “Their loss is our gain! Now dad’s part of the alliance.”

“Temporarily,” Kamek reminded them.

“Oh yeah,” Roy frowned. “What happens when the timer runs out or whatever?”

“Your father will have to choose if he wants to remain part of the alliance or leave it.” Luigi answered. Kamek confirmed that was correct by nodding along.

“Huh.” Was the rather lack-luster end of the discussion.

Bright afternoon sun streamed in through the enormous windows. It made Larry sleepy. The little guy curled up on the thick rug and was soon out like a light.

“Mmmm,” Morton declared as he, too stretched out in the sun. “Larry have good idea. Nice and warm…” soon he, too was sleeping.

Ludwig joined them and quickly became part of the sleeping pile. Roy just stared at them. Luigi smiled.

“If you want to join them, piccolo notte, I can keep watch.”

Roy shrugged that off.

“Nah, that’s okay. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure? It’s-a been a long day for you.”

“Really, I’m good. I—” he lowered his voice, “it’s good seeing them like this.”

“Napping in the sun?” Luigi asked, grinning.

Roy shook his head. “Nah…happy.”

Chapter Text

The second time one of Daisy’s airships showed up unexpectedly, it was a much smaller vessel traveling at a decent speed, but one that Bowser’s troopas had time to out-pace so their king had more advanced word of her arrival. And, perhaps most notably, over half his brood insisted on joining him when he went to greet outside the city gates. She smiled when she saw them, but Bowser could tell from the frown lines on either side of her mouth that this was more than a social call. Once pleasantries had been exchanged, the children had been hugged, and the excitement had faded, Kammy wrangled the little ones while Kamek remained by his side.

Soon as the children were gone, Daisy’s smile fell away.

“The council has summoned Mario and Peach to speak before them today. I’ve been trying to tell them for days this entire thing wouldn’t mean shit without you present, but they of course, they just wouldn’t see sense until the day of!”

Bowser crossed his arms. “So, what? They think they can just ask a king with a busy schedule to come to them on that short notice? That’s insulting.”

“I know. I’m with you, but if you both hop in, my ship’s fast enough to get us there in plenty of time.”

The king’s lip curled. He shouldn’t even be entertaining the possibility of attending, especially when the nature of the last-minute invitation itself was such a snub, but he stomped past the Sarasaland princess and boarded her little ‘ship.’ Hmph. Normally, he wouldn’t be caught dead in such an unintimidating, brightly-colored contraption…he was the king of the dark lands. Unfortunately, he knew how half the council would react if one of his battle-ready cruisers just drifted over their peaceful little hub.

They were up in the air before Kamek finally opened his beak.

“I don’t like it.”

“I know,” Bowser grumbled.

Round glasses shone. “Have you paused to consider that perhaps this is a trap?”

“Of course. I’m not a complete idiot, Dad.” He ran his fingers through his fiery red hair and blew hot air out his nose as he watched the landscape slide past below them. He turned to look down at his surrogate father and sighed. “If it is a trap, at least they can’t get at the kids this time.”

“A low bar.”

“I know. Forgive me that bit of selfishness.” He scowled back at the dark ash clouds of home shrinking into the distance. “I’m through letting them pay for my mistakes.”

“Your mistakes are not solely responsible.” Kamek said, his nobbly claws finding Bowser’s own.

Bowser’s smile didn’t dispel the faraway look in his eyes. “We’ll see what the other rulers have to say about that.”

Kamek growled and Bowser’s heart felt just a tiny bit lighter.

The allied council of kings met on in the archipelago, a network of small sky islands over the ocean between the kingdoms. They’d built a kind of hub at the center and the smaller isles acted as little docks for ships with bridges to the high chamber. Daisy tied her ship down securely then led the way, pointedly ignoring the terrified shrieks from neighboring vessels and the odd passersby. At the door to the deliberation chamber were a couple of toad guards with spears. Daisy asked them if the princess and Mario had arrived yet, but they were too busy cowering and blubbering at the sight of Bowser to provide coherent answer. The koopa king brought his face down to their level and offered his best smile.

“Answer the Princess’ question.”

“Uhhhhhh…” One toad’s mouth just kind of fell open and stuck that way, clearly terrified out of their mind.

Thankfully the other one at least managed to clutch their spear and stammer, “Th-They’re i-i-inside.”

“Thank you,” Daisy spat before ungraciously shoving them aside and opening the door issuing Bowser inside.

Bowser tutted and playfully bowed, grabbing the door himself, “Ladies first.”

“Ugh, just go!” Her gloved fist shot out and punched him hard enough to slide him inside.

“Crabby much?” He grumbled. Rubbing the spot on his shoulder where she’d punched him to dispel the ache. She had a mean right. Kamek hobbled in after them, broom under his arm for now. There had been muffled words from inside before, but the voices paused the moment they entered, several falling to low whispers. Bowser made eye contact with each monarch in turn, except Peaches. He was going to ignore her until he could no longer feasibly do so. Interestingly, it seemed most of the other rulers had brought along at one of their progeny.

“King Bowser,” Daisy said, her voice raised so everyone could hear, “I believe you’re already acquainted with all present, but by council rules, formal introductions are afforded to new members, so…I am Daisy of Sarasaland.” When no one else volunteered themselves, she motioned to the Kongs and cleared her throat. Cranky stood.

“Cranky and Donkey Kong,” the old kong said with a shallow nod of deference which Bowser dutifully returned.

“It’s DK for short,” added the younger kong, which prompted the Kong King to roll his eyes as he returned to his seat.

A buxom bean in a red dress with very muscular arms stood next. Her voice was as intense as her sheer presence. “Queen Bean,” she introduced herself also offering a nod. Bowser nodded back. She motioned to the comparatively diminutive figure beside her, “My son: Prince Peasley.”

Bowser wasn’t sure what to make of the short but unquestionably lingering bout of eye-contact that followed. Peasley was searching for something, the king was sure, but what—he had no clue. It was like the little guy was sizing him up. Ha! The thought of that little sprout entertaining any contest against him was risible. He moved on when the next monarch stood and had to actively resist the urge to flinch.

The penguin king’s face was cold as the icy kingdom he’d so savagely melted on more than one occasion over the years…after many moments of silence Bowser took the initiative.

“King Frigis,” he offered a much deeper nod than he had for any of the others, then turned to the second penguin present, “and I do not believe we have met.”

“Princess Gale,” she introduced herself. He nodded to her as well, something he had not afforded the other royal heirs. In return she curtseyed, but her eyes never left him. Smart girl. Never lower your eyes to an enemy, he thought bitterly.

Next was a familiar face.

“Princess Rosalina, star watcher.”

“Princess,” Bowser actually bowed for her and smirked when he received a chorus of whispers and raised eyebrows. Fuck it. They all ought to know by now he had very little respect for their authority. He was here by their own good graces, but that didn’t mean he’d come to lick their boots.

Queen Bee, like the others, received a nod and she crossed her arms and buzzed in distaste. All other introductions now concluded, he had no choice but to address the elephants at the table. The illustrious guest of honor took thing by the horns.

“Skip your intro Peaches. You’re the reason we’re here. As for the rest of you chumps…You got a lot of nerve giving me so little notice. I was one claw away from turning you down.” He made it very clear which claw, too, and they all stiffened. Predictably, it was Cranky who took charge.

“Mind your manners, Koopa! Count yourself fortunate to be here at all! You were only invited following the tireless advocacy of several of our esteemed representatives. You will behave or you will be thrown from the chamber. Do you understand?”

“Oh, yeah? Who’s doing the throwing?” Bowser smirked, daring them to do their worst.

“Luigi has assured us he is more than capable of taking full responsibility for you and any damage you might cause,” the Kong king’s hand motioned behind them and Bowser followed it.

The king’s pupils dilated as a figure shifted in the dim light at the back of the room. That long, dark-green skirt gave the man a uniquely triangular shape from the waist down, perfectly accentuating the blasé casual stance. Luigi was leaning back against the wall, hands in his pockets.

For the second time ever, they saw each other.

Bowser felt as though a school of cheep-cheeps was swimming in his stomach. He didn’t know what to make of the stormy gaze. That stoic expression, with the occasional twitch of the curled mustache, did little to clear things up. Green had sided with him against his own brother and Bowser still couldn’t figure out why. The king of the koopas might as well be standing beneath a thundercloud waiting for lightning to strike. He remembered, all too well, exactly what that lightning had done to Mario. Reluctantly, he opted not to press his luck.

Cranky’d been very vocal with his doubts about Bowser’s attendance earlier, but interestingly, Luigi was the one vindicated. Bowser stood down.

“Where’s my seat?” he growled through his teeth.

Cranky concealed his surprise and nodded to it.

Pfft. That tiny chair was fine for Kamek, maybe. Clearly, they weren’t prepared for him to actually show up. He stomped over and snapped his fingers.

Kamek took out his wand. Everyone present, especially the penguin king—who’d seen the magikoopa’s strength first hand—tensed. Kamek tapped twice and the high-backed white chair grew in size until it was sufficient.

“Thank you, Kamek,” Bowser intoned, formally, as he took his seat and his advisor gave a little bow.

“Chairkong,” Daisy said slowly, “I move that fifteen minutes be allotted for all parties to independently review the written accounts provided, prepare any questions, and devise punishment suggestions. Bowser has not been privy to information collected during our investigation. He deserves at least a little time to familiarize himself.”

“Indeed. Twenty minutes seems more appropriate.” He sifted through the array of papers in front of him until a second folder, like the one the documents in front of him were spilling out of, appeared. He passed it to DK, who offered it to the Koopa king.

Bowser snatched it without so much as a thank you. He wasted no time opening it and getting right to work. First, he sorted the contents. The investigation, if it could be even called that, had yielded very little. A few interview statements, some pictures he’d kindly allowed Daisy to take during the castle repair, and finally three lengthy accounts of the event by the ‘key’ actors: Peach, Mario and Luigi. Bowser started there.

Peach’s account was succinct, cold, and clinically detached. She didn’t offer excuse or waste time attempting to defend her actions. Bowser was too numb to feel pleased by that. It made him almost wish she had attempted to claim innocence so he could hate her all the more. This…this wasn’t monstrous enough to hate. He moved on.

He spent almost a minute staring at the by line. Mario. He didn’t want to read any further, but every moment he delayed was a waste of precious minutes. He forced himself onward. Mario’s penmanship was truly atrocious, but Bowser had a fair share of generals whose reports were much the same. It didn’t take his red eyes long to get a handle on it. Peach had only penned a single page. Mario’s was double that. When he got to the end, Bowser turned it over, expecting more, but it was quite finished. That couldn’t be right. He shuffled through the other documents to make sure he hadn’t lost anything. He hadn’t. He read it again from start to finish.

Kamek was also perusing the documents. Having finished Peach’s version of events, he returned it to the table. Bowser’s brief search got the old magikoopa’s attention. He turned away from the other documents and began watching his adopted son’s face. A plethora of emotion flickered just below the surface as red eyes darted across the pages. Hmmm…Suddenly they finished the last page and the document was being shoved at him. He took it and read for himself:

Some time ago, I went to rescue the princess. She had been kidnapped by King Bowser. Before I could, she appeared and informed us that Bowser had let her go. She was hurt. For all the trouble he has caused, Bowser had never hurt her before. I was furious. It wasn’t only her. Luigi had been injured in the aftermath of an altercation with one of Bowser’s generals koopalings bamb children. I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to make him pay.

Kamek stared, his wide-eyed shock obscured by his thick lensed glasses. This was a blatant confession. Also, it was messy, hastily written in a single sitting. The crossed-out bits were most enlightening.

La principessa convinced me to stay away, but every day after I remained convinced it was only a matter of time before Bowser’s next kidnapping attempt. I worked myself into a frenzied state keeping her and my twin brother closer than ever until they were forced to intervene.

Why was Mario parting with this information? Why expose such flaws to the entire council? Even if the red plumber hadn’t expected them to be in attendance, this was a damning statement.

Even after that, I never stopped viewing the darklands as a constant threat to my loved ones’ happiness.

Here we go. Finally, they were getting to the excuses, the filthy justifications for an attack that had—

I was wrong. I think I’ve been looking at this whole thing all wrong for a long time. I don’t really know why Bowser kept taking the principessa. He probably still wants to take over the world, but that has nothing to do with this. His other crimes don’t matter right now. This is about famiglia family. My brother calls me a meat-headed idiot all the time, but it’s so much worse than that.

When Peach’s spies returned from the koopa kingdom with news of increased activity in and around Bowser’s castle, I let my rage take control. I insisted they had to be up to something. I pressured the poor agents until they agreed that a sinister scheme couldn’t be ruled out. I convinced the principessa to send me. I was the one who suggested breaching the castle walls. Her only mistake was trusting me to follow her instruction. She wanted it to be a stealth mission. The POW blocks were meant to serve only as a distraction for me to enter the castle.

I didn’t even make it to the lava fields without being spotted. I changed the plan. On my approach, I noticed the guards were concentrated on the west side. In my experience, Bowser strategically stations more troops in areas where he has something to hide. I didn’t think any more about it than that. I should have, but I didn’t. I arranged the pow blocks and set them off and fought my way inside through the resulting chaos.

Bowser and I fought. He came at me with everything he had and I gave him every last bit of the fury I’d been feeling since that day when Peach and Luigi were injured. It was the most intensely heated battle we’d ever had. If it weren’t for my brother, one or both of us would probably be dead. Knowing now what I didn’t then, that might have been better. Bowser can easily and justifiably plunge this world into war. A war started by my unforgivable carelessness, stupidity and blind rage.

Kamek stared, his fingers curling around the page. He could hardly believe his eyes. This was astounding. Anyone else admitting this freely to such heinous actions in most other kingdoms would be imprisoned for life. In the darklands, they’d be executed.

But this was still Mario—beloved hero of the mushroom kingdom—they were talking about. His beak wrinkled. He’d be extremely surprised if the human got dealt more than a proverbial slap to the wrist. Even so, this account did not come across as one written by someone who viewed themselves as untouchable. Interesting.

Bowser was still reeling from Mario’s account when he took up the last of the formal statements. The handwriting was ornate, the sweeping loops quite uniform, a pleasant change from Mario’s crabby scrawl. Like the princess, Luigi’s account consisted largely of carefully-composed, factual statements, but the longer he read, the more intensely he felt something bubbling beneath the surface. That stormy sky was darkening with every sentence. Electricity was flashing on the surface of the clouds…

There is no justification for my brother’s actions. Four children and an untold number of dark lands citizens nearly lost their lives in an attack that was entirely unprovoked. There is no going back from this. No sweeping this under the rug. This is unacceptable. I, Luigi Mario, submit to the council of allied rulers that Princess Peach and my brother Mario have broken not only the alliance contract, but their sacred duty to act in the best interest of their citizens. As a ruler and a father, King Bowser is within his rights to burn their kingdom to the ground.

Lightning strike. Bowser could see how deep the pen had carved the words into the paper.

An appeal must be made to Bowser’s compassion or it will continue to be the innocent who’ll suffer.

He turned to the spot where Luigi had reposed against the wall. The skirted figure was gone. Then hair on the back of his neck prickled. He looked around. The very man he’d been searching for was nervously lingering behind the only empty chair remaining at the table which happened to be right next to Mario. Mario pushed out the chair. Bowser couldn’t hear them, but it looked like the shorter plumber said ‘sit down.’ Green took a step back. Mario said something else. He couldn’t see the guy’s mouth anymore, but judging by the response, it was unwelcome. Luigi started to take another step back when Mario stood and grabbed him by the arm. Bowser didn’t even notice he’d started growling because he was too focused on what was happening across the table. Green said something very quiet, mustache twitching nervously. Mario wasn’t letting go. Bowser started to stand at the same moment Princess Peach finally took it upon herself to intervene. Mario let go and the Bean-bean prince beside them swiftly swept in. Peasley strategically ushered Luigi into his seat and took the one next to Mario. Bowser sat back down.

It wasn’t until after he took a seat that Lu realized Bowser was watching him. Oh, dear. How much of that had the koopa king witnessed? His cheeks flushed. Bowser had probably seen the way he needed both Peach and Peasley’s help handling his own brother. How embarrassing…

Luigi wasn’t the only one who noticed. Kamek had realized the moment Bowser had started growling. Cranky’s nose was buried in documents, but beside him, DK had tensed up and followed the koopa’s gaze when Bowser had almost gotten up and gone over there. It didn’t take him long to figure out what the giant fire-breathing koopa was looking at. He frowned. Even though he couldn’t hear what they were saying it definitely didn’t look good. Mario had been over a few times for some kart racing since this whole thing went down. He knew the bros hadn’t been speaking, but he’d no idea things were so tense. Least it ended before things could escalate. Luigi finally noticed Bowser watching and his cheeks turned red. Yeah…that wasn’t exactly the best look. But DK was more interested Bowser had even noticed. The way the big guy got up, you’d almost think he gave two shakes of a coconut…Then again, Luigi was definitively on his side, so maybe that was why? But just as DK thought that he caught sight of the look on Bowser’s face when the king turned back to the docs and pretended to read. Concern. Bowser was concerned? That meant Bowser, Mr. ‘pretend not to give a fuck,’ had to care—at least a little tiny bit—about Luigi. Oh, boy…Mario was going to hate that.

“You alright?” Peasley asked, gently nudging his friend in the shoulder. Lu blushed. Peasley traced the direction of the plumber’s gaze. Bowser’s face had just turned back to the information before him, but Peasley could tell he wasn’t actually reading anything. Huh. “Lu.”

“What?” Luigi asked, blushing even harder at being caught unawares.

“I asked if you were alright.”

“Oh. I’m fine. Sorry, didn’t mean to get you involved.”

Peasley’s lay one of his gloved hand’s over Luigi’s which rested on the human’s skirted thigh.

“We’re friends. I’m here for you.”

Luigi smiled and nodded, turning his hand to squeeze back. “Thanks, Peas.”

“Don’t mention it, celery stalk.”

From Peasley’s other side Mario was leaning as far forward in his seat as he could. Spying their joined hands, his eyebrows climbed his face, then sharply sank. He leaned over and spoke out the corner of his mouth to the princess beside him.

“What’s all that about?”

“What?” She asked, looking at Peasley and Luigi and not finding anything remarkable about the way they continued to smile and whisper animatedly to each other.

“They’re holding hands.” Mario whispered, heatedly.

“So? They’re very close friends. Like you and DK.”

“DK and I don’t hold hands,” He frowned.

“Oh, would you relax? Daisy and Luigi hold hands all the time too. It doesn’t mean anything, and you know it.” Then she brought his mind back to more important matters, “Try to focus on the trial. Maybe you should re-read the—”

“I’ve read this thing enough to have it memorized.” Worry creased the little spot between his eyebrows, and he turned to her, “Do you think he’d tell me? Y’know, if they were—”

“Calamari!” She whisper-yelled and he curled into his chair like a kicked puppy. “It’s not your business, so keep your nose out of it. When he is ready for you to know, he will tell you.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts!” she wagged her finger.

“What if he gets hurt?”

“Then you’ll be there for him, but you need to let go. Let the man live.” She looked away. When Mario made an annoyed noise and grumbled:

“What’s he looking at?”

She rolled her eyes and looked over, expecting to have to turn her hotheaded hero’s face away before he was caught glaring daggers at Peasley, only to find him fixated on another person entirely. The very last one they needed to antagonize right now. Thankfully, Bowser hadn’t noticed because it seemed the big guy was more interested in…oh.

“Luigi,” she answered Mario’s question.

“What’s that look even mean?” Mario asked, not really expecting an answer, just venting. “He did it on that day, too. Same look.”

Peach didn’t ask him to clarify which day ‘that day’ meant. Mario always called it that. She could tell that he hadn’t really meant the question for her, but she paused to contemplate it anyhow. To anyone who wasn’t paying close attention, it probably seemed Bowser was reading the document in his hands, but on closer inspection, those bright red eyes were looking over the top of it at the younger Mario twin across the way. Mario was right. It was a strangely intense look, only she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her hand just flying out to physically turn her plumber’s face toward her when Kamek’s glasses shifted their direction. “But please, for me, no needling Bowser. Okay?”

“O-okay,” his face flushed pink, only to start turning red when she kissed his cheek.

“Thanks, sweetie.”

The remaining time passed quietly without incident. When the allotted period came to a close, Cranky resumed charge.

“King Bowser, have you had sufficient time to familiarize yourself with the statements?”

“I have.” Bowser nodded, “I’m more interested in what your little council proposes to do since Mario’s confessed to trying to murder my family.”

The red plumber flinched. The penguin king leapt up on the table and pointed an accusatory fin.

“And you didn’t when you attacked my kingdom?”

“Your castle was empty. All your civilians were evacuated! And I melted it, remember? Worst that coulda happened to anyone in the area was a hot bath!”

Gale’s eyes narrowed and she pounced on a detail her father was too furious to catch.

“How did you know the civilians were—”

“Scouts.” He barked. “Ask yourself, princess, how did I launch so many attacks and never once get embroiled in a real war?” That seemed to sink in slowly. Varying degrees of surprise and shock lined their faces. Bowser just smirked. “What? You all thought it was dumb luck?” he scoffed. “Under my direction the army specializes in one of my absolute favorite things: property damage.”

Mario was oddly pale and had a funny gobsmacked look on his face. “Like Junior on the isle of Delfino?”

“Leave my son out of this.” Bowser growled, smoke and sparks leaking out his mouth. “Mention my children again and I’ll—”

“Bowser,” Peach called loudly, turning his ire onto her, “I give you my word no Mushroom Kingdom citizen will set foot in the dark lands again.”

His eyes glowed. “I want it in writing.”

“That can be arranged.”

“But I’m still waiting.” He snarled, smiling bitterly.

Her eyes narrowed. She straightened up. “For?”

Bowser held up Luigi’s account and pointed to the last line.

“You gonna appeal to my compassion, or what? ‘Cuz, I’ll be honest. If you wanna avoid a war, you gotta do better than a flimsy piece of paper saying you’ll stay out.” All trace of a smile fell away.

“What do you want, then?” she asked, her lips curling with distaste. “A kiss?” she was shocked when he made a sound of disgust.

“Sorry, Peaches. I thought I already made myself clear, but since you seem to have trouble understanding I’ll go on and spell it out for you: any interest I might have—any fascination I might have held for you died the day your little ‘hero’ over there nearly buried my eleven-year-old in two tons of rubble!”

Mario’s fists and muscles tightened, “Don’t talk to her like that!”

“I’ll talk to her however I please! She’s the witch who sent you to kill my children!” he was barely keeping it together. His flames were licking his throat, their light dancing through the room every time he opened his mouth.

“Bowser, I didn’t—” Peach tried, but one look into his burning red eyes was enough to silence her. He was…Bowser was…real tears had welled up at the corners of those furiously heated eyes. Tears of betrayal, hatred, desperation, and paternal angst. She could barely find enough voice to speak through growing tears of her own, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it.”

“I—I know…” she managed, wiping her tears and standing up straight.

“Ahem.” Queen Bean interrupted, wearing a very severe frown on her face. “It is clear to me that the princess and her champion strongly regret their actions.”

“That doesn’t excuse them!” Daisy chimed in and Bowser was grateful for it because he was still in the process of regaining his composure.

“No, indeed not,” the Bean Bean Queen agreed immediately, nervously shooting a look at the back of Bowser’s spiky shell, “But we should discuss their punishment. Sanctions hardly seem adequate.”

“Indeed not,” queen Bee echoed wholeheartedly. “I believe Mr. Luigi put it best in his statement. The princess has damaged not only her kingdom’s status in the world, but by taking such reckless action, has endangered the lives of her people. Anyone else would be stripped of all political power.”

Bowser sneered, “So she gets off the hook?”

“No,” Cranky said, shooting Bowser a pointed glare. “She will not get off the hook. This was a very serious abuse of her position. But, surely, even you must realize that if she is removed from power the Toads will start a riot!”

They would, vocal little bastards…Bowser growled.

“Then why not a compromise?” Queen Bean had their attention. She preened. “I propose a probationary period of three years! All royal acts will be recorded and reviewed by an official representative appointed by the council living and serving alongside the princess in the Mushroom Kingdom. That representative will then present a monthly report at our regular meetings. And at the end of every year we shall reconvene and vote on whether or not the probation need continue.”

“That could work,” Rosalina agreed. “A very sensible solution, Queen Bean.”

“But who shall we appoint?” Cranky asked, frowning.

“It would have to be someone with experience.”

“Not necessarily,” Bean disagreed. “What matters most is a good diplomatic sense and a good head on their shoulders!”

Bee buzzed and turned to the human between the Beanbean representatives. “What about Luigi?”

“That would be-a very bad-a idea.” He said, nervously fiddling with the end of his moustache. “The toads are not-a pleased with me at-a the moment. Last-a time I was-a there they threw a rock through my window.”

“What?!” all faces briefly turned to Mario upon his outburst, but discussion of who should be appointed representative soon resumed. Mario turned to the princess, face distraught. “You knew about-a this?”

She nodded, grimacing. “Toad told me. I looked into it, but whoever it was the entire neighborhood is sticking with them. No one saw or heard anything.”

“That’s-a not good enough! Luigi could have been-a hurt!”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you-a tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you and—” she averted her eyes. “—Luigi asked me not to…”

“Augh! And you-a listened to him?!”

“He said you’d react like this! You were already worried enough and—”

“What about Daisy? She spends a lot of time in the Mushroom Kingdom anyhow. Surely—” The penguin king suggested loudly. Peach shot Mario a look that promised they could finish this discussion later.

Daisy herself frowned and wrung her hands, “Well, uh, normally I’d be all too glad to help out, but—well, you see—”

“We’re getting married in the fall,” Rosie swooped to her lover’s aid. “Dai moving to the mushroom kingdom for so prolonged a period would interfere with the wedding and—”

“Then I’ll do it,” a drawling and haughtily disaffected voice proclaimed. When their faces turned to him, Peasley flashed a debonair smile. “You run the kingdom anyway, Mummy dear. I’ve been getting rather bored. A bit of adventure would do me good. Even an administrative one. And if it strengthens relations and restore faith in the Mushroom Kingdom, then huzzah!”

It seemed no one had anything to say to that. Peach was not really looking forward to it, but he was close to Luigi, so he couldn’t be all bad…still, he was soooooo full of himself…

“All in favor?” Cranky asked. The hands of all the rulers, except Peach—who, as the subject being assigned council oversight, did not get a vote—rose in favor. “It is agreed. The council appointed supervisor for the Mushroom Kingdom for a period of three years is Prince Peasley.”

“You shouldn’t be punishing her, if anyone’s to blame for what happened it’s me.” Mario snapped, unable to sit by and keep his mouth shut any longer.

“Oh believe me, we’re coming for you, meatball! But you couldn’t have done the damage you did without your girlfriend enabling you.” Bowser snarled.

“She’s not my—”

“Don’t care.” His red eyes glowed like lava. “I move that Mario be handed over to the darklands so I can see him gutted for attempted murder of the royal family!”

“No!” Peach screeched, shoving her plumber behind her.

Bowser stood, seething. Mario’s face was bloodless. He tried to get Peach to move aside, but she refused.

“I made a lot of mistakes, I broke a lot of laws, and I’ve made a lot of enemies in my life…but my children did nothing to deserve the hell you put them through!”

“Principessa…”

“No.” Peach replied, her eyes filled with tears, shaking her head side to side.

“Bowser.” Somehow that voice sliced through the murderous haze the same way those blue eyes had when he was in his feral giga-form. His claws curled into fists. He turned on the green skirted man, snarling.

“They could have died.”

“I know.” Luigi did know. Luigi knew better than anyone. Their gazes locked.

“I deserve to kill him for that.”

“Please.” The king found himself stunned. This was an eerie echo of the moment they ‘met’ only reversed. Now it was Luigi’s blue eyes shining with desperate helplessness and he was the one with the fate of another life in his hands. The rest of the room might as well have never existed. It was him and Green. “He has family, too.”

Fury fell away leaving only bitter smoldering hate. His claws laxed, “Fine. For you.” He grumbled, falling back in his seat, much to the stunned awe of everyone else present.

“Thank you!” Luigi exclaimed with a relieved bow. His voice was thick with emotion. He wasted no time in hugging his brother tight.

Kamek hopped up on the table to be closer to Bower’s ear and hissed, “You let him go?!”

“Green saved Larry.” Bowser grumbled, not looking his dad in the eyes. In fact, his gaze never left the skirt-wearing plumber. “I’ll consider that debt paid in full.”

The council decided that Mario, like the princess, should serve a kind of probation with a council nominated sidekick. Luigi was, of course, floated for the position, but after he explained that he intended to live outside the Mushroom Kingdom for the foreseeable future, they were forced to consider other options. Lu suggested Toad and it was quickly agreed upon. As the meeting drew to a close, Queen Bean raised another matter entirely.

“King Bowser. Are we to understand you intend to become a permanent fixture of the council membership?”

The giant koopa crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“That depends.”

“On?” Cranky asked, interested.

“Will my kids be safe?”

Nearly every face around the table softened considerably.

“They’ll be protected by alliance law,” Cranky reassured.

Bowser shook his head. “I’ve read your law. It isn’t good enough. I want protection extended to all royal offspring regardless of blood heritage. No loopholes, no wiggle room. No one else ever hurts my hatchlings and gets away with it.”

“I second,” Queen Bean bellowed.

“And I,” Queen Bee agreed.

“We should have thought to include such verbiage in the first place,” Rosalina added.

“I’m with you, babe,” Daisy concurred.

The penguins, kongs and Peach also agreed. They resolved that the new wording would be drafted and sent to the Koopa King for final approval.

“Very good. Were there any other points of discussion for this meeting?”

“Only one,” Bean said, and everyone else sagged a little. They’d hoped to finally be done. “There is the small matter of a goodwill ambassador to the dark lands.”

“A what?” Bowser growled, his eyes narrowing.

“Every kingdom in the alliance has one. The Bean Bean kingdom was appointed a Kong, the Kongs a penguin, the mushroom kingdom a luma, and I’m sure you get the gist by now. In order to qualify as goodwill ambassador the candidate must be citizen of a different allied kingdom and be willing to reside on your kingdom’s soil.”

Peasley scoffed, “Then, mother, the matter is already quite settled. Luigi has been living in the Evershade valley since the attack on Bowser’s castle.”

“What?” she asked at the same time as Bowser, which surprised everyone. They all turned to the man in question who was quickly turning red.

“I—uh—I have a mansion there?” Luigi justified poorly. So nervous that he said it more like a question than a statement.

But it seemed the Bean Bean Queen was more than satisfied with that.

“Well, that’s perfect then! Glad that didn’t take long. Cranky! You can call the meeting to close!”

The only reason Cranky did it without fussing about her ordering him around was because he, too was very much ready to call this long and exhausting meeting over and done. All parties present rose and quickly scattered. Daisy went to speak with Rosalina a moment. Luigi booked it straight out the door onto the balcony for some air.

“Wait here.” Bowser told Kamek. When he got out on the balcony, Luigi was resting his arms on the rails, looking out across the landscape. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. Luigi jumped, then saw him and relaxed. For all those nerves, green had some balls relaxing so easily around him. “You do realize a goodwill ambassador is expected to regularly attend events at the castle.”

Luigi smiled. “You don’t-a have to invite me. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Bowser puffed steam out his nose. Every time he thought he had a handle on this guy, green managed to surprise him. He took an experimental step forward. Luigi didn’t move. Didn’t so much as twitch. Balls and guts. Another step forward. Hard blue eyes found his red ones. Interesting. He took another step. Green was unfazed. They were maybe eighteen inches apart. He bent down. Luigi didn’t even squirm. Bowser’s nostrils flared. Orange blossom and herb flooded the scent receptors in his nose and his challenging smirk melted right off his face. He knew that smell. Every muscle in the human’s body had visibly tensed. For a few seconds that felt like eternity they stared at each other, Bowser knowing and Luigi knowing Bowser knew. Silence.

Morton, shell-less, tackling him on the lava fields—his baby he feared he’d lost forever—Morton cuddling to his neck smelling like…like Luigi. His injuries appeared to have been healed…

‘Found healing mushroom’

…Luigi’s doing?

Mario’s account: ‘Luigi had been injured in the aftermath of an altercation with one of Bowser’s generals koopalings bamb children.’

‘Thought I was gonna die!’ Morton…his little star…

“Thank you.” He rasped, unable to tear his eyes from the brilliant blue ones staring up at him.

“It’s what anyone would have-a done.”

Bitterness curled the corners of his mouth as he smiled. “Not just anyone.”

“Everything-a okay out here?” asked a most unwelcome voice.

Bowser couldn’t trust his fist not to ‘accidentally’ bury itself in the red plumber’s gut, so he turned tail to leave, pausing to sneer over his shoulder. “Expect my invitation regardless, Ambassador.”

Chapter Text

It was a simple game of strategy. One Ludwig von Koopa knew how to win every time. The key was picking the perfect moment. He simply had to wait until the precise time to make his move—gah! He glared at his inventor sibling who’d just elbowed him in the ribs.

‘Just go ask already,’ Iggy clicked.

Shh! He put his finger to his lips, then peeked back around the door to make sure dad hadn’t already noticed them. Phew. They were in the clear.

“What dad say?” Morton asked.

“Shh!” Luddy urged. Still clear. Ugh. This was a lot harder with two little brothers involved.

Then Lemmy showed up. “Hey, what did dad—”

“Just—all of you—Shush!” Ludwig whisper-yelled. They were really, really lucky dad happened to have a lot of very complicated Alliance trade agreements to sort through… “Just wait here! And please stay quiet!”

He carefully opened the door, so it didn’t make any noise and slipped inside. He made a beeline for Dad’s desk and used his claws to carefully climb up and peek over the surface. He waited until Bowser’s eyebrows furrowed and dad went back to read a particular sentence again. Now. This was the moment. He let go of the desk and landed softly on the rug, carefully circling back toward the door before deliberately stepping into a spot where he’d be in his father’s peripheral vision.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?” Bowser didn’t look up from the papers. Perfect.

“Can I borrow the clown car?” he asked, casually as anything.

“Hmm? Oh…What?”

“Can I borrow the clown car?” when he repeated it, he spaced the words out a bit.

Bowser fiddled with the trade agreements some more, pushing his reading glasses up so he could see the text better, clearly trying to puzzle something out. “My clown car?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

Cue the perfectly banal reason so as not to arouse interest. Keep the tone casual. “Iggy wants more ectoplasm.”

“Right, right. ‘Course he does.” Bowser grumbled, checking the page numbers. Hang on—something was wrong—red eyes sharped and started looking around. Ludwig’s heart beat faster in his chest. Shit. If dad snapped out of it now… “See page 5 anywhere?”

Whew. Ludwig went to help look. It had fallen on the floor. He held it up and Bowser took it.

“Thanks kid.”

“So, can I?” he asked, intentionally waiting until Bowser had started reading again to do so.

“Do wha?”

“Take the car.” He enunciated.

“Uh…yeah sure…take the car.”

Yes! Executed to perfection. Another win for Ludwig von Koopa. “Thanks, Dad! I’m taking Iggs, Lem, and Morton with me.”

A giant golden hand waved him off. “Alright, son. Drive safe. Be back before dark.”

“We will!”

The second Luddy made it out the door he was greeted by multiple claps on the back and celebratory fist pumps, but he just glared and urged them all to make a break for it at top speed:

“Quick, before he changes his mind!”

Twenty minutes later Bowser lay his papers down on the desk and sat up straighter in his chair. The clown car? Ectoplasm? Iggy, Lemmy and Morton? His reading glasses slipped down to end of his snout and his eyes narrowed. Ludwig von Koopa you sneaky little…

“KAMMY!”

Earlier that morning…

“Morton bored.” Morton groaned. He was laying on his plastron on the floor in the middle of the music room.

“You could go play with Junior. Or Larry.”

“Pfft,” was apparently all Morton had to say to that. He was rolling a copper ball about the size of his palms between his hands. He tried focusing his magic on it the way Kamek had said, but it still wasn’t working. Urgh.

Ludwig’s claws danced neatly across the keys, running scales for the third time. “You could see what Roy is up to.”

“Roy and Wendy went shopping.”

“Ah, so that’s why you’re wasting time in here with me,” Luddy teased.

“Spending time with Luddy isn’t wasting.”

The eldest could hear the frown in Morton’s voice. He glanced over. His fingers froze.

“Did you summon that?” he asked, shocked.

“No,” Morton grumbled, sitting up and pressing his hands around it, “Kamek gave Morton to practice.”

“Oh,” Luddy tried to go back to playing piano, but he was legitimately curious, “Practice how, exactly?”

Morton—the sweetest and arguably most easy-going and laidback of his siblings—growled. Not just a little grumble of annoyance, or a warning snarl, but a real, rolling growl that thrummed low and menacing through the air. Ludwig lowered the piano cover and glanced over nervously.

“I’m so close!” Morton squeezed the metal ball in one fist so tight that Luddy began to worry it would warp. It didn’t, but— “I can feel it just like I feel the iron. Can taste it!”

Ludwig tried to lighten the atmosphere a little, joking, “You sure you didn’t just bite your tongue?”

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr…

“Sorry, sorry! I wasn’t trying to make fun of you or anything.” He threw up his arms. “I just…maybe you should take a break. You and Kamek have been working on it like, what? Three hours a day every day this week?”

“Morton wants to be copper wielder!” Morton raised his voice. Ludwig took a step back and considered the situation. Morton was far too worked up over this. He didn’t exactly wanna give his kid brother a lecture, but—he had to do something. He reached out, placatingly, and took hold of Morton by both arms.

“I know.” He let out a long slow, exhale, “believe me, I know. Getting stuck on a spell is one of the most frustrating things ever. I get it.”

Morton sneered and Ludwig couldn’t quite pretend that didn’t sting.

“I mean it!” He was the one raising his voice now, “Do you have any idea how long I spent on elementary summoning spells? Iggy did it on his very first try like it was nothing! And it took me WEEKS of practice! Roy is still better at puppet spells than me! And next week Kamek says he’ll be teaching me how to teleport myself and everyone knows that takes YEARS to perfect!” He sagged as he stared into Morton’s wide-eyed face and realized his little brother had honestly had no idea how much he struggled. Then he felt even worse about losing his composure. “Sorry. I’m not yelling at you. I just—I do get it. I know how frustrating it is when something you’re working on just doesn’t seem to be going right. Look…if you keep trying to force it, even if you succeed, you’ll be upset. Take a deep breath, take a break—heck, do something else for a while. Distract yourself. Relax and come back to it later. Then, hey, when you do get it, it’ll feel worth celebrating. You’re not doing yourself any favors getting all pent-up.”

He was a little surprised when Morton stepped toward him and curled down to put that starred head on his shoulder.

“Morton sorry too. Was mean to Luddy.”

“You weren’t that mean.” Ludwig huffed, wrapping his little brother in a hug. When they stepped away, he held out a hand and smiled softly, “But how about a break from the copper training for now, huh?”

Morton nodded at once and handed the copper sphere to Luddy for safekeeping as he asked, “So, what do?”

“Hmmm, we could go down to the gardens.”

Anything was better than waiting around being bored. They started at a walk side by side. Luddy had to move his legs a little quicker to keep up with Morton’s stomps. Morton grinned and stomped faster. Challenge flickered across the eldest’s face and he broke out in a run, Morton following suit moments later. They tore down the stairs, Morton taking them three at a time and Ludwig—realizing he was losing ground as they neared the bottom—leapt the rest of the way.

“First to the fountain!” he declared when they landed at the same time.

“Luddy wasting breath!” Morton accused hypocritically, arms pumping as he sprinted fast as he could.

They burst out the doors onto the grand garden path, scaring the feathers off the poor paratroopa guards stationed there. Luddy nudged Morton’s shoulder. Morton’s strong arm shoved him back. They giggled wildly. They weren’t watching where they were going.

BAM!

Ludwig shook off the aching and the dizziness and noticed there were far too many limbs in this pile for just him and Morton.

“Uggggghhhh…my head…”

Oh. “Sorry, Lem. You okay?”

“Gimme a minute to get my eyes to start working together again and I’ll let you know,” the multi-color-haired koopaling grumbled. Without even looking over, seemingly somehow just knowing he added, “Might wanna get Morton offa Iggy though. If you can stand.”

ARF! Came a loud tinny bark far too loud and close to their heads. They both winced.

“Yapper, shush. Muh head’s still spinnin’ round…” Lemmy groaned, reaching up to pat the side of the chomp’s face when she started to whine. Ludwig helped him up and was about to call out to Iggy and Morton when Moxie, apparently extremely happy to see him, tackled him to the ground and started smothering him with her ‘kisses.’ Lemmy tried his best to get her off, but she was an infamously stubborn chomp. While they were otherwise occupied...

“Morton! Get off me, you lummox! Why don’t you watch where you’re going?!”

“Sorry, Iggy.” Morton helped his green-shelled brother up and hung his head guiltily. Iggy sighed. The star-faced koopaling worriedly looked the inventor over. “Iggy hurt? Morton didn’t mean to…”

“Fortunately, I’m fine, but you still need to be more careful! What if you hit Yapper or Moxie? It would take them weeks to heal a dent courtesy of your thick shell! Or worse—” he didn’t get to the worse section of his tirade because his brain finally finished absorbing the information relayed by his eyes.

Morton had sat down on the ground and pulled both knees toward his plastron when Iggy began lecturing. He felt really terrible for knocking his brother down. He didn’t even wanna think about how bad he might have hurt Moxie or Yapper if he’d it them instead. They were still young. They weren’t even as big as Dad yet! He hugged his knees even tighter, not even noticing that one was red and raw, blood seeping out from the spot where some scales had torn away.

“I’m sorry. Really didn’t mean to.” He struggled to think of something else to say, “Don’t wanna hurt no one.” Then, under his breath he grumbled, “Dumb, stupid Morton.”

Iggy had bent down for a closer look at Morton’s knee, which was the only reason he heard it at all. His pinched frown of concentration as he contemplated the state of Morton’s knee fell away. He took out his wand. He already felt like a bit of a shithead for yelling at his brother about potentially hurting others when Morton was the only one who’d ended up hurt. Now he felt terrible.

“You’re not stupid. I’m sorry I called you a lummox.”

Morton stared in astonished silence for a couple seconds, then curled up tighter. Iggy winced a little when Morton’s hand covered the injury.

“You two alright?” Ludwig asked, finally freed from Moxie’s avid affections. He crouched down beside Iggy and frowned upon seeing that the inventor had his wand out.

“Lemmy, you good?” Iggy asked, but he could hear his twin’s footsteps coming up behind them, which meant Lem was probably fine.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just had to get my land legs back…and help pry Moxie offa Luddy.” Lemmy saw the tense set of Iggy shoulders and instantly knew something was up.

Ludwig didn’t really like being blatantly ignored, so he snubbed them back by ignoring them in turn and focusing on Morton. He knelt in the dirt at his gray brother’s side.

“Morton, are you okay?”

Morton didn’t answer and refused to look at him. Lemmy looked from Iggy’s guilty face to Morton’s sad state of existence. The twins finally made eye contact and the smaller of the two settled in on Morton’s other side opposite Luddy.

“Hey, big guy.” Lemmy said, nudging Morton’s side. Morton’s eyes brightened a little seeing that Lemmy wasn’t upset with him.

“Moxie and Yapper okay?”

“Pfft, you kidding? They’re fine. They’re chomps. Tough as nails. Gotta be. They follow that guy around everywhere.” He pointed at Iggy, “Only kind of pets he should be trusted with are ones he can’t blow up!”

“Huhuh,” it wasn’t quite a laugh, but at least it was better than silence. Morton looked Lemmy right in the eyes, “Lemmy not upset?”

“Nah, was just an accident. Where were you two going, anyway?”

“Race Luddy to the fountain.”

Lemmy’s face lit up. “That sounds fun! Maybe we should all race down to the lava lake! Moxie and Yappers could use a good run!”

Morton brightened considerably. Before anyone could get up and start a new race, however, Iggy leant forward with his wand.

“Move your hand,” he said. Morton obeyed, looking confused, then only became more confused when Luddy and Lemmy hissed. Luddy’s hand touched the gray koopaling’s shoulder. The eldest explained.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Oh. Did kinda sting,” Morton admitted. Iggy’s wand glowed pink. The warm healing spell enveloped Morton and the skinned knee was gone.

“Feel better?” the inventor asked.

“Mhm! Thanks Iggy.”

“You’re welcome.” Iggy still felt like a jerk, but at least he’d been able to fix his little brother up. Maybe he could make it up to Morton somehow…Hmm…Oh! “The newest batch of piranha plants have sprouted! There’s one that spits lava! Wanna see?”

Morton very much wanted to see, which was clear from the excited wag of his tail, but—

“Morton don’t wanna hurt things or mess Iggy’s stuff up…”

Aww, man, he’d really hurt Morton with that rant, huh? Damn. For having iron scales, their metal wielding brother had always been sensitive. He shouldn’t have yelled like that over a silly little accident. Iggy offered a hand and helped Morton up.

“You won’t. I can show you the containment cube I’ve been working on, too. I’m this close,” he made a show with his fingers, “to catching that little ghost mutt long enough to run some proper tests.” He nearly lost his balance when Moton suddenly shoved him.

“No! Iggy, leave Polterpup alone!”

“Hey, relax! I’m not going to hurt it. Just want a few questions answered, that’s all.” Iggy sighed. Morton was severely doubtful. Ah, this probably wasn’t just about the dog, was it? “Don’t worry, it won’t affect your letters with the green Mario.”

“How long have you known?” Luddy asked, stone-faced.

“About the letters? Since that scientist first sent me blueprints. Who they were from? We didn’t figure that out until Dad made the ambassador announcement last week. You said the old guy in the Evershade Valley has tanks of ghosts. Makes sense for your green friend, the ghost hunter, to be somewhere nearby.”

“Luigi…ghost hunter?” Morton’s eyebrows furrowed. Ludwig hadn’t mentioned it to anyone and it hadn’t exactly come up on their last visit with Luigi…He, however, was more interested to know how Iggy had found out.

“How did you know he’s a ghost hunter?”

Lemmy rolled his eyes, “Ugh, how could we not know? The boos won’t shut up about it. Ever since they heard he’s ambassador—”

“There aren’t any boos in the castle.” Ludwig said. His eyes narrowed when the twins shared a look.

“On the contrary, big brother, you’d be hard pressed to find a room without one around here.” Iggy said with a bitter smile that became an unnervingly straight face. “I’ve told dad. Told Kammy and Kamek, too, but unfortunately, there’s no way to keep them out.”

Ludwig’s expression turned thoughtful. He smirked. “Iggy.”

“Yes, Ludwig?”

“What if I told you: I know someone who can?”

Iggy smirked back. “Then I’d say: I could use a bit more ectoplasm.”

And just like that…a plot hatched.

Presently…

Dad’s clown car was fast. They made good time. Morton was so excited to see Luigi again. The week they’d just had felt like ages, and he had so much that he wanted to talk about. He was jumping out of the car before Ludwig had even put in it park, which the eldest scolded him for. He just grunted and rushed up the stairs to the door of the mansion and pressed the bell. Only…it didn’t ring. That was weird. Must be broken. He used the big door knocker. Knock Knock Knock.

No answer. That was strange. He tried the doorknob. It was open. Luddy and the others caught up. He frowned at them.

“Door unlocked. Luigi no answer.”

Ludwig frowned. He took out his wand and motioned the others do the same. They did, then he led the way inside. The lights were on. There was a funny, rhythmic clicking, turning sound coming from the sitting room accompanied by a familiar voice. Morton put his wand away and rushed toward it.

“Luigi!” He flung open the door, only to quale and retreat nervously when a stentorian laugh rang out in response to the way the poor nervous human jumped about three feet into the air. The wheel of the sewing machine stopped slowly. Luigi clutched a hand over his chest until his heartrate returned to normal. Then he rose and went to greet the koopaling with a smile and a hug.

“Piccolo stella! What a surprise! You-a frightened me! I wasn’t expecting any more-a guests today!”

Morton warily peered around Luigi at the strange bean and said nothing. The others caught up with the gray koopaling yet again. Ludwig, too, tensed at the sight of a stranger.

Luigi automatically reached out and pet Ludwig’s head as a greeting. Over Luddy’s shoulder he immediately noticed the presence of yet more of Bowser’s children he’d not yet been formally introduced to. By this point he’d had enough letters and conversations with the bambini to associate names with faces. These two, unless he was very much mistaken, were the twins: Iggy and Lemmy. They did not look like twins at all, but when they peered around Morton at Peasley, then back at each other, Luigi felt a pang of sadness. When was the last time he and Mario were on a shared wavelength like that? Even for twins, that only happens when you’re very close and there’d been growing degrees of separation between himself and Mario for quite some time… He was shaken from his thoughts by Peasley’s voice.

“Well, it has been a lovely chat, Luigi, my dear, but I really should be going!” Morton shifted to ‘hide’ behind him when Peasley came over for the customary la bise of parting, “Mwah! Mwah! I don’t wish to abandon my post for more than an hour or two, lest the princess be without her supervisor should urgent matters arise, and I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from your little visitors! I must away!” he announced, tucking his cape around his shoulder and leading with chest as he crossed the room.

Luigi rolled his eyes. He’d never understand why Peasley insisted on acting like this around anyone who didn’t know him…

“Fare you well, Luigi! I shall eagerly await the day we smile together again!” Peasley walked out the French windows onto the patio where a winged bean was waiting for him. He stepped onto it. “Hiho! My noble steed!”

“You’re ridiculous!” Luigi shouted after him.

Peasley laughed again, “You wouldn’t have me any other way!” Then in a sing-song voice as his flying bean rose into the air: “Goodbye~”

Morton frowned at the windows the prince had left through, “Who beanish guy?”

“Ah,” Luigi smiled, relaxing considerably again now that it was just him and the bambini, “That was-a Prince Peasley of the Bean-Bean kingdom. You haven’t-a met him before?” he asked, though he wasn’t very surprised when Morton and Ludwig both shook their heads.

“He seems a bit…odd,” Ludwig said as he put away his wand.

“Yes, he’s a bit-a much before you get to know him.” That was interesting to Morton, who immediately asked a follow-up question.

“Luigi and Bean-Bean prince friends?”

“Si, piccolo,” Luigi nodded, smiling, “We are-a very good friends.”

“He calls you ‘my dear,’” Luddy observed, “You dating or something?”

The green plumber started turning red. He shook his head vehemently side to side.

“No, piccolo musicista, why—” he sputtered, then regained some control over words, “Peasley and I are just-a friends. He calls-a lotta people ‘dear.’”

Ludwig crossed both arms over his plastron, unconvinced, at first, by Luigi’s flushed denial, but when the human’s expression hardened, he was uncertain.

Luigi sighed. “If you must-a know, we went on-a couple of-a dates, a long-a time ago. It didn’t-a take us long to realize it just-a wouldn’t work between us. We want-a different things. Can you understand-a that, piccolo?”

“Sure,” Ludwig hadn’t exactly meant to push Luigi into telling him all that, but he was curious… “Like what?”

“Luddy so nosy,” Morton remarked, frowning.

“What?” he threw up his arms defensively, “Don’t pretend you’re not even a little bit curious!”

Luigi laughed and herded them gently out the door and into the hall.

“Come on, bambini. You had a long flight, and you probably want-a some snacks, si? Let’s-a go to the kitchen, go on! I’ll answer all of-a your-a questions and we can-a gossip over some-a food.” Good thing he’d made some extra teacakes and things for Peasley’s visit…

Once the little ones had some delicious treats to snack on and something nice to drink, the atmosphere turned cosier. Ludwig led with:

“You know you don’t have to answer every question we throw at you, right?”

“Of-a course, I know that. It’s-a okay. I don’t mind-a telling you my side of-a things, but you’ll-a understand if I don’t speak about-a Peasley’s side, si?”

“Yeah, sure. That’s none of our business.”

“Luigi’s side not Luddy’s business either.” Morton pointed out, “Luddy just like to nose around.”

“Don’t-a worry Morton, I really don’t-a mind!” Luigi assured the star-faced koopaling. He took a sip of his tea then explained, “I’m not a very-a glamorous person, piccolo. I don’t like-a being the center of attention and I’m not like-a Mario: I don’t need-a big adventures all-a the time. I like enjoying my life-a day to day. I like-a peace and-a quiet and a safe place to call-a home. Capiche?”

“Kinda,” Luddy admitted. “But what about like your future and stuff? Won’t you get bored?”

“I wish I had-a time to be bored…” Luigi lamented, candidly. “Even when I-a don’t go looking for adventure, it has-a the funny way of-a finding me.”

“Sure, I mean, you’re related to Mario.” Ludwig commiserated, which made Luigi throw back his head and laugh.

“Si, piccolo, very true.”

They were all a little surprised when Lemmy joined the conversation in between taking very big bites of a sweet roll.

“Well…hrmf…” he chewed a little more before finishing his question, “don’t you have a dream?”

“How do you mean, piccolo arcobaleno?” Luigi asked.

“Everybody has a dream! You know, like the thing you want most in life! Luddy wants to be the best musician/composer ever! Iggy wants to advance our scientific understanding of the world! And Morty—well, Morty used to just wanna be strong—but now he’s trying to learn copper wielding, which would make him one fo the most remarkable metal wielders in our history! So, like, what’s your dream?”

Iggy, who hadn’t done much besides sip tea and occasionally nibble a cookie, nodded at Lemmy’s very sensible description of his long-term life goal. If his observations could make any kind of difference to generations to come, he viewed that as big success. All four of them took a keen interest when Luigi’s face and neck began turning red again in response to Lemmy’s question.

“What are you blushing for?” Ludwig asked, crossing his arms and frowning.

“Well, piccolo...most people think my dream is, well, boring. Or even-a silly...” Luigi said, closing his eyes and nervously rubbing the back of his neck. How embarassing, blushing at a question like that...

Morton got up from his chair and went to put his hand on Luigi’s arm.

“Morton doesn’t think Luigi is silly. Would never make fun of Luigi’s dream.”

The human bit his lip, clearly feeling torn whether to share or not. After a few moments more of this, he confessed. He didn’t look at their faces, instead he watched the heat rising from his teacup.

“I’ve-a always wanted to fall in love and have-a a big family—with-a lots of-a sweet bambini,” He looked up when Morton cuddled into his side and smiled. Little tears prickled the corners of his eyelashes. He blinked them off as he pushed back his chair to stand so he could pull Morton into a tight hug. Morton bent down to nuzzle against his neck and he let out a slow sigh of contentment, closing his eyes. “Just-a like you all...”

Morton purred.

Lemmy and Iggy were both surprised by how physically affectionate Morton was with the green Mario brother. They shot Ludwig matching looks as though they expected him to intervene and Ludwig just shrugged them off as if this was very much the norm. Iggy narrowed his eyes suspiciously and was about to say something himself until Lemmy motioned him to wait.

‘Not yet. Trust me. Two seconds,’ clicked the smaller twin, quietly enough that Morton wouldn’t hear them. Iggy didn’t like it, but he trusted his twin. One...two...as though their younger brother were on cue, Morton started speaking.

“Not silly or boring. Luigi has a good dream. Really good.”

Luigi laughed a little and played with Morton’s hairs. “You don’t think it’s-a too late for me, piccolo stella? I’mma not-a too old?” he teased. Morton, however, took it perfectly literal, and he learned something else he’d never have guessed about the koopa king.

“Nuh-uh! Dad thirty! He still look for new queen! Luigi can too!” after a moment came the obvious follow up, “How old Luigi, anyway?”

“Morton,” Ludwig chided softly, “Humans don’t like being asked that. My book said they think it’s rude.”

“Oh, sorry, Luigi.”

“It’s quite alright, piccolo stella. And it is true, some-a humans think it is-a rude, but I don’t-a mind. I’mma about to turn-a twenty-seven.”

“Luigi has plenty of time,” Morton explained, sagely. “When great aunt Shelda got married again she 63! Junior thought it was weird, but Dad said it’s never too late to fall in love! And that was a loooong time ago...”

“Four years isn’t that long, Morton,” Ludwig said, smiling. Honestly, his little brothers really had funny views on the passage of time...or maybe he’d just gotten older and suddenly it wasn’t so slow to him anymore.

Luigi grinned at the cute little moment between the siblings and asked, “And are they still just as much in love, Morton?”

“Mhm!” Morton nodded. “Came to visit last spring. They kiss in places they think no one see! Like hedgemaze!”

“What?” Ludwig asked, surprised and Morton looked away.

“Morton wasn’t spying!” When Luddy’s eyes narrowed, Morton buckled under pressure, “Larry was spying. Morton was just there.”

“Uh-huh.” Ludwig said, incredulously.

Iggy was openly staring. He hadn’t heard Morton talk this freely and openly to anyone...ever. Especially not about things like this. And Ludwig...their big brother was fine with all of this and was apparently comfortably enough with the human to nose around in things that were—quite frankly—Luigi’s business. Luddy didn’t just ‘do’ things like that. His big brother wasn’t a gossip or a snoop, just a bit over-protective of loved ones. Close loved ones. So...what? Ludwig saw the human as family? Iggy found that hard to believe. The longer he watched them interact, though, the more that seemed to be the case. Though, he suspected that if he asked, Luddy would deny it. His big brother probably hadn’t admitted it to himself yet, but Luddy’s behavior left little room for doubt. Morton, though, already interacted with Luigi the same way he interacted with dad. Hmph. Iggy wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Too many conflicting impulses. Lemmy might be able to help him work that out later.

Lemmy appreciated that his twin took longer to pick up on things like this, so he’d urged Iggy to wait earlier. Now he could see understanding taking root. When Iggy’s blue and white eyes found his, looking torn, he smiled and left his seat to share Iggy’s chair. Iggy rumbled a low note of appreciation for the support. He just clicked softly back.

The green Mario brother noticed, but didn’t bring any attention to it. The twins appreciated that. In truth, Luigi could tell that Iggy, in particular, was taking time to analyze him before interacting directly. He wasn’t sure if the inventor was nervous, or just extremely wary, like Roy had been. Either way, he wouldn’t push. He asked Ludwig and Morton:

“I’m very-a happy to have you here, bambini, but-a why exactly have you come here like-a this? No letter or anything? Is-a everything alright?”

“Oh, uh...well,” Ludwig was suddenly bashful. “Well, Morton was bored. Then we ran into Iggy and Lemmy and—”

“I think what you mean to say, Prince Ludwig,” Scolded a tired, croaky, voice. It was a bit like Kamek’s only higher. Magic swished and in the corner of the kitchen Kammy materialized. How long she’d been there...Luigi had no idea. She went right on scolding, paying him no mind, “that you tricked your father into letting you fly off in the clown car on your own!”

Ludwig fought back, “I didn’t trick him. I asked and he said it was fine!”

Her gaze was scalding.

“It was important!” he retorted.

Her hands found her hips as she floated forward on her broom to be right in front of her eldest grandson.

“Really? So important you had time for tea and cake?”

He looked away and it was clear she’d won a point there.

“Piccolo musicista,” Luigi called, voice thick with the kind of disappointment that made Ludwig’s stomach twist, “did you really trick your father into allowing you to come here?”

“N-no. Not exactly...”

Luigi suddenly had the same hands-on-hips posture as Kammy. “Does he even-a know where you are?”

“I mean—” Ludwig rubbed the back of his neck, “Not exactly. I told him we were going to get Iggy more ectoplasm.”

“Ludwig!” the plumber scolded.

“I’m sorry,” the teen said, his shoulders falling, “We just...Morton and I wanted to see you and, well, the boos felt like a good excuse...”

“Boos?!” Luigi’s eyes narrowed. “What boos?”

“In the castle.” Iggy muttered, “they’re so annoying. The number of times I’ve been working in my lab, or trying to get some sleep and they won’t shut up with their constant giggling...”

Kammy crossed her arms. “And just what do you expect him to be able to do about it?”

“Last time we were here your professor guy was saying something about a ‘boo-blocker’?”

Luigi’s mood changed dramatically. He shuddered. Nervousness and anxiety soaking into his stance. His shoulders hunched. He twiddled his fingers and his mustache twitched.

“Si, piccolo, but it isn’t something we can make another of. It’s-a device that-a manipulates the wavelengths of-a the dark moon which protects this part of-a the valley from King Boo or-a any other ghosts-a malign influence.”

“So, we can’t just take this ‘dark moon’ and use it ourselves at the castle?” Iggy asked. Interesting, he thought, when the human’s fingers twitched wildly. The color had drained from Luigi’s face.

“Not without plunging everything into-a chaos. That’s what-a happened when Boo stole it and broke it apart. I spent a whole-a week fighting to-a get it back. Boo used its-a power to manipulate ghosts into doing his-a bidding and would have-a used them to take over-a everything. Not just-a the valley, but the world. For that reason, piccolo genio, I cannot-a let you take it. It’s-a too risky and too-a powerful.”

“You stopped him and got the thing back all by yourself? Yeah, right.” Iggy couldn’t help but scoff. “Mario probably did the heavy hitting.”

“Boo kidnapped him.” Luigi’s face was grave, “Trapped him in a painting.”

“What?” Lemmy was disbelieving. Ludwig and Morton were shocked, but neither of them doubted Luigi’s word. Kammy eyed the man’s body language with stern interest. Luigi was shaking with terror, but had straightened up, defensively.

“I did what I-a had to. I didn’t-a ask to end-a up a ghost hunter! I’m terrified of-a them. Always-a have been.” His fingers curled into fists that also shook. “Boo took-a my brother. My twin. The warp pipe’s-a broken. Mario—he’s-a all I have. The only family that’s-a left. I didn’t-a even know if I’d-a survive. Boo is-a powerful. His-a control over other-a ghosts, it’s-a strong...but I couldn’t let Mario down. I had to save-a my fratello.”

Iggy swallowed hard when Luigi’s blue eyes burned into him. How the green Mario brother managed to be both terrified and intimidating all at once, he didn’t really know, but he felt intimidated. Suddenly Luigi succeeding in a fight against Boo all alone didn’t seem so far-fetched. With that level of motivation, with everything on the line—if just talking about it had Luigi in this state, Iggy didn’t envy Boo.

“Okay, fine. I can believe that. You’re most dangerous when someone you care about is in jeopardy. Like Luddy.” Then he let his curiosity win and asked, “What if I try and take this dark moon anyway?”

“I can’t let you do that, piccolo genio.”

“Meaning you’d fight me.” he inferred. All three of his siblings and Kammy tensed.

“Please do not make-a me do that, Iggy.”

“So you do know my name.”

“Of-a course.” Luigi was watching him closely, still incredibly tense. Iggy rolled his eyes.

“Relax, I’m not going to. Not only does it sound like it wouldn’t go well, my brothers would probably disown me.” He flatly observed, then confessed, “but I do wonder: How much damage can ghosts possibly do? Boo must think they’re pretty powerful if he plans to take over the entire world. The koopa kingdom wouldn’t go down without a fight. How do you think we’d fare?”

“I hope you never end up in such a fight, piccolo...” Luigi’s eyes were faraway. “Don’t ever-a underestimate them.”

“You said yourself, you’re terrified of them. How do I know you’re not exaggerating?”

Luigi made a sound that was almost like a growl. Ludwig interjected.

“Iggy, that’s enough.”

“No, Ludwig, I want to know. He says they’re dangerous.”

“Dad does, too.” Ludwig pointed out, “He’s always told us to leave ghosts alone.”

“Psh, sure, but he’s our dad. Luigi’s the expert.”

“Your father is-a right.” Luigi said, his eyes sharpening and his fingers tensing, “Leave them alone. They are dangerous.”

“Prove it!”

A little flash of lightning traveled across Luigi’s iris as more of it gathered in his palm.

Morton backed away to stand with Kammy, his eyes wide and frightned. Ludwig swept in front of Iggy’s chair between the pair of them. Even Lemmy clicked at the inventor that enough was enough when Luigi surprised them all by pulling his long-sleeved green shirt clean off as his voice rose, trembling with emotion.

“You want to-a see what ghosts can-a do, piccolo! Look! Look at-a me!”

Iggy did look, but it was difficult. The longer he stared, the more he found. Scars upon scars. Slash marks, bites, burn marks...but...

“Healing mushrooms—”

“Only heal the damage from-a powerful ghosts...but it always-a leaves a scar.”

Gulp. He turned to Kammy, “W-what about healing magic?”

“Ghosts are magical entities,” Luigi didn’t so much as flinch when she raised her wand and a spell pulsed over him. It wasn’t warm like a healing spell, so he assumed it was some kind assessment of the damage. For a few moments, her wrinkled face grayed a little before she explained, “Nothing could fully erase the traces of damage like this...” then after a long, heavy silence, “Might I ask how you managed to survive?”

“I ask-a myself that almost-a every day.” Luigi smiled bitterly. A sniffle broke the dour atmosphere. He turned in time for Morton to barrel into him with a choked sob that quickly became loud, gasping tears. Ludwig shouted. Luigi hadn’t dispelled the charge from his lightning magic! It wasn’t safe—but when his brother thumped into contact with Luigi, there was no spark, no charge, and no one went flying. How...how had...Had Luigi’s body automatically dissipated it somehow on instinct so as not to hurt his brother? His voice died and he stared in silence.

“Luigi...no die!”

“Morton...” Eyes wide, stunned, Luigi’s arms fell to wrap around the kid.

“Please, I—I don’t want you to die!”

“Morton, it’s okay, it’s okay! Piccolo stella, I’m not—I’m not dying. I’m fine. I’m here, look, I’ve got you. It’s-a alright. Everything will be alright...”

“Ghosts tried to kill you,” Morton sobbed, hiding his face in Luigi’s neck, one of the few places free of scars, “Could have killed you...”

A couple tears ran down Luigi’s cheeks as he smiled and squeezed Morton even tighter.

“I’mma so glad they didn’t, piccolo stella. Or I’d never have met you.”

“No hunt ghosts no more.” Morton’s face begged, “Promise.”

Rubbing circles on Morton’s back, Luigi frowned. “I can’t promise that, Morton.”

“But—”

“I’mma sorry. I can’t. If something happens and-a someone needs my help—”

“No!” Morton shouted, stomping his foot.

Luigi’s hand cupped that sweet face with the star birthmark and looked Morton straight in the eyes.

“I won’t ever lie to you, Morton. There might be-a day when I have-a to fight ghosts again to protect-a the people I care about. Like la principessa, or Mario...or you.” His hands trembled with rage at the very thought of Boo or any other ghost ever threatening this gentle child, “I won’t—I can’t let anything happen to you.”

Iggy felt shell-shocked as he watched his little brother fallen completely to pieces in Luigi’s arms. Ludwig and Lemmy were right. Why couldn’t he ever leave well enough alone? Why did he always have to ask one more questio, poke one more time, probe a little deeper? He should have known better by now. With piranha plants it was one thing...with people he inevitably hit a nerve...And he should have spared a thought for how the answer might affect the others...

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, his voice cracking when the corners of his eyes started to feel wet and his throat became tight, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—I should have—Morton, I—” Morton recoiled and hugged Luigi tighter. Iggy felt like the poorest excuse for a brother in the world. His tears fell down his face. He closed his eyes. “I’m such a terrible brother...all I’ve done is upset you all day! First I yell at you and hurt your feelings and then I just upset you more and now—” he ran his claws through his hair. Ludwig and Lemmy both tried to comfort him, but he threw them off. “Just stop it! Stop it! I don’t deserve it! Just leave me alone!”

He tried to make a run for it, but something caught him. Arms. Strong arms. Struggling to wrap around his middle from behind, yet powerful enough to keep him from progressing. Morton’s voice was thick and close to his ear.

“Iggy wrong. Morton loves Iggy always. Morton not upset with Iggy.”

“You should be.”

A growl rumbled through him. “Iggy don’t get to tell me how to feel.”

“No, I suppose not,” Iggy sniffed. “But I still think you should.”

Morton rubbed his face against Iggy’s head and the green-shelled koopaling couldn’t help but purr softly. Morton smelled like Luigi...and was rubbing that scent all over him...but he wasn’t about to push his little brother away.

“Please don’t run away.”

“I—”

“I forgive you.”

“I’ll make it up to you...somehow...”

“Nuh, don’t gotta. Iggy is good.”

The inventor shook his head. “No, Morton, please...at least let me try to...tell me how I can...”

They hugged for a little while as Morton mulled this over. Iggy could feel the thoughtful rumble his brother was making and so he just held Morton close and waited. A minute went by.

“There must be something I can—”

“Iggy give Luigi a chance.”

Iggy frowned. Morton had his mind set.

“Luigi’s nice. Iggy will see. Luigi good. Like dad!”

“Well,” Iggy looked around Morton’s shoulder to where the human was sliding his shirt back on. Their eyes met. No judgement, no heat, no linger anger or frustration, only understanding. Maybe... “Alright. I’ll try.”

“Thanks, big brother.” Morton trilled happily and squeezed him a bit too tight. Iggy didn’t really mind.

“I’mma sorry, to interrupt, bambini, but we should-a go and speak-a with the professore. He might not be able to make another-a boo-blocker, but we can see if there is-a anything he can do about-a the boos in the castle. If there isn’t, I’ll-a take the poltergust and-a see how many I can—” Luigi was cut short by the worried look on Morton’s face. He stared sternly back. “I’ll do what I can to make-a sure you are safe, piccolo stella. Always.”

Morton harumphed. He held Luigi’s hand all the way to E. Gadd’s lab. When they got there, Polterpup greeted them with a littany of barks and a ceaslessly wagging tail.

“PUPPY!” Morton shouted, beyond pleased when the cold doggy shape jumped into his arms.

Iggy was thrilled from the second the vault door opened onto E. Gadd’s lab. It was very hard not to immediately start touching everything. There were so many buttons! And dials! And knobs! And monitors—WHOA! Was that the ghost tank? It was huge and on that monitor: Another tank just for Boos? He bounced from one foot to the other as Luigi introduced them.

“Professore! More visitors!”

E. Gadd clapped his hands together.

“Ooohohoo! Luigi! So many guests! You spoil this lonely old man! Ah! I remember you!” he said, pointing to Ludwig, “But the rest of you are new faces...” behind his thick spectacles, his eyes twinkled, knowingly, as he caught sight of the bouncing Iggy. “You there! You wouldn’t happen to be Ignatius Koopa?”

“H-how did you—”

E. Gadd tapped his glasses and chuckled. “I know the look, my boy. Would you like tour of the lab?”

“YES!” recalling his manners, he returned to a more reasonable volume. “I mean, yes, please.”

“Hoohoo! Then, right this—”

“Before you do that,” Luigi interrupted, “Bowser’s castle has a bit of a boo problem.”

“Well, I won’t be able to make another boo blocker—”

“I know, I was-a hoping maybe there was-a something else? A detector? Or something to make it-a harder for them to hide?”

“Now that’s a thought!” E. Gadd beamed. “I’ve been through several iterations of Boo detectors. None were 100% successful. Hmm...you know, recently I’ve been seeing how radio waves affect their abilities to turn ivisible. At the right frequencies, they have a harder time of it. Maybe we could use that somehow. Wouldn’t do much by way of getting rid of them—”

“But we’d be able to see them!” Iggy finished, his tail wagging. “That would be a huge help!”

“Indeed,” Kammy agreed.

“You could also use certain kinds of light to ‘reveal’ them—”

“I know all about that! I discovered it accidentally the first time your dog showed up!” Iggy explained.

“Haha, very good! Very good, but he’s not mine! Luigi’s really taken him in in a way I could never quite manage. Playing and training and whatnot. I don’t have time for all of those things and I’m not as spry as I once was, if you can believe it!” He chuckled.

“Professor, if I may, how come you keep other ghosts in tanks, but you let Polterpup—”

“Blasted mutt’s escaped every tank and poltergust I’ve ever designed. Still not sure how he does it! None of the others manage...”

Arf! Arf! Polterpup phased out of Morton’s arms and landed on the ground in front of them. Chasing his tail and barking.

“Alright, alright, yes! Everyone is very impressed! Luigi! Please keep the dog away from the chemicals!” he called when Polterpup jumped up onto one of the tables.

“Si, professore!” Luigi wrangled his wayward puppy and E. Gadd announced that he’d be giving Iggy the full tour of his facilities. Leaning in toward the other three kids, he murmured, “Bambini, unless you want-a to be stuck hearing about-a ghosts for the next hour or-a so, we should sneak away.”

Ludwig frowned, “You sure they’ll be alright on their own?”

“Oh, go on,” Kammy said, sighing dramatically, “I’ll make sure they don’t blow anything up.” She supposed those brilliant smiles on her grandchildren’s faces was worth an hour or two of science talk. Besides, Iggy was having the time of his life. She smiled at him. Yes. Definitely worth it.

They went for a walk in the grounds and took Polterpup with them. Luddy and Morton decided to retry their race from earlier this morning. This time from the side of the mansion to the bocce court with Polterpup nipping playfully at their heels. Lemmy almost joined them, but then he saw the way Luigi smiled at them and hung back.

“Iggs said it earlier, but—”

“You don’t have to apologize for your brother, Lemmy. He already apologized. And he is not-a you.”

Lemmy grinned. “True.”

“You didn’t want to-a stay for-a the tour?”

“Nah, the science is Iggy’s thing. I understand it pretty well. Whenever stuff is too over my head, he’s real good at explaining. I help out where I can. Sketches, note-taking, testing new gadgets, that kind of thing, but it’s his dream, not mine.”

“That’s-a very good of you. What is-a your dream? You mentioned your brothers’ but not yours.”

“Haha, guess I didn’t. I like performing. Carnival type stuff, mostly. Balancing acts, high-wire, trapeze, gymnastics, that kind of thing.”

A new sparkle lit Luigi’s eyes.

“And-a magic?”

“Magic?” one of Lemmy’s eyebrows rose. “I mean, I do magic same as the others.”

“No, piccolo, I meant-a human style magic tricks. Sleight of hand.”

“Magic tricks?”

“Si,” they walked at a leisurely pace, side-by-side. “In-a the human world, we don’t have real magic, like here. Our version of magic uses things like-a clever illusions to make it-a seem like something magical has-a happened. I suppose, for someone who can make-a real magic happen, it wouldn’t be-a very interesting...” Luigi said, blushing and feeling a little silly for even bringing it up.

“You know any?”

“Hmm?” He’d gotten distracted, seeing as Ludwig and Morton had just disappeared from their line of sight.

“Magic tricks.”

“Oh, a few.” Luigi smiled a little shyly, “But I would need-a pack of-a playing cards.”

“I can get some.” Lemmy offered, getting out his wand, but Luigi waved it off.

“Maybe later, when we’re back inside, piccolo arcobaleno.”

Luigi liked Lemmy. The smaller twin was very laid-back and easy to talk to. Not to project on them or anything, but he suspected that Lemmy was to Iggy what Mario was to him. The one who handled most interactions with strangers because he was more approachable and more adept in social situations. Then Lemmy would help work his slightly more awkward brother into things so that Iggy wouldn’t feel left out. Lemmy, whether the kid realized it or not, was feeding off his own ‘awkward twin’ energy, smoothing it out and returning calm.

“The others didn’t know you were twins,” Lemmy said, nonchalantly.

“But you did?”

“Mhm,” Lemmy said. These grounds were gloomy, and tiny bit creepy, but they were also nice. There was a bleak prettiness to the place. “Knew the first time I saw you together. I told Iggy, but he didn’t believe me at first. Not until we watched you fight dad a couple years back. When you and Mario did that spring-board tandem jump thing off that platform. You were perfectly in sync.”

“And that-a proved we were twins?” Luigi chuckled, “We could have just been-a very coordinated.”

“Nah, you didn’t even say a word to each other that whole fight! You just looked at each other and knew. That only happens when you spend your entire life fighting alongside somebody.” A change came over the human’s face. Lemmy had glimpsed that look earlier too, when Luigi first saow them. He frowned. “What happened?”

“What do you mean, piccolo?”

“What happened to you and Mario?”

They walked in silence for a while. Luigi probably wasn’t going to answer, but part of Lemmy hoped the human did. He really wanted to know. He never, ever wanted to reach a point in his life where he didn’t even have Iggy he could count on...

“It’s-a long-a story, Lemmy, and your brothers are-a waiting for us.”

“But I wanna know. I don’t want Iggy and me to—” he shut his mouth, afraid he’d given too much away, but Luigi smiled sadly at him.

“Be there for-a each other. And when it comes-a time to grow up...don’t forget him. Okie dokie?”

Lemmy made a face that seemed torn between anger, disgust, and pity all at once.

“I’ll never forget Iggs. He’s like a part of me.”

“Then you’ll-a both be fine.”

“GAH! Luigi and Lemmy too slow! Hurry up!” Morton said as he jogged back over to them.

“How was your race, piccolo stella?” Luigi asked, obligingly walking a little faster at Morton’s gentle nudge.

“Was ok. Luddy won, tho. He quicker at corners.”

“Ah, I see.” Luigi said, nodding sagely. Ludwig and the bocce court were now with view. As they rejoined the eldest, Morton remarked:

“Been training lots with Kamek.”

When there was a pause and it seemed a response was expected, Luigi said, “Ah, yes, for the copper wielding?” Morton nodded. “And how has that been going, piccolo?”

Morton made a dissatisfied groan and Ludwig almost wished Luigi hadn’t asked.

“I try very, very hard.”

“I’m sure you do, piccolo.”

“But never feels good enough!” Morton lamented. He stared down at his feet when Luigi took him by the shoulder.

“I’mma sure that’s not true. It sounds like a very hard thing to do. It’ll probably take a lotta more time practicing.” Luigi smiled and the eleven-year-old grumbled an almost inaudible ‘yeah, maybe’ and suggested, “Why don’t you show me what you do to practice?”

“The magic won’t work,” Morton said, frowning.

“I don’t care if it works, piccolo stella. I just think it would be cool to-a see you practice!”

“Luigi thinks Morton is cool?” the gray tail wagged a little.

“Of-a course I do! You’re a metal wielder and your magic is awesome! You’re-a very cool!”

“Okay. Morton can show Luigi!” Then Morton remembered, “Luddy, give ball please!”

“Right, here you go.” Luddy took the sizable copper sphere from his shell and handed it to Morton. He and Lemmy watched with interest as Morton explained to Luigi.

“Kamek gave me to practice with. Supposed to hold it like this,” Morton trapped it between his hands, “and focus. Feel the copper. Morton can feel it really good. Really, really good! It’s different form iron. A lot different. The good kind of different. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to—”

“Uhm...Morton?” Luddy interrupted, his voice a little squeaky and his eyes far too wide. Lemmy’s jaw was practically on the floor.

Why were they staring? Morton frowned. He dropped the copper ball and it hit the ground with a dull ringing thud. Their astonishment only grew.

“Why you stare?”

Luigi recovered first and smiled, gently steering Morton over to the pond and pointing at the reflection in the water.

“Look, piccolo stella.”

Morton yelped, jumping away from the edge in surprise, then slowly leaning back over.

“That—” he looked at his hands, “Morton looks—Luddy!” he called in distress to his bookish brother, “Copper supposed to do this?”

“I,” Ludwig shrugged, “I’m sorry, Morton, I have no idea.”

“But—but Morton won’t look like this forever, right?!” he started hyperventilating. Luigi’s warm hands landed on his shoulders and those kind eyes steadied him.

“You look fine, Morton. Didn’t you say your mother had-a the prettiest copper scales?”

He paused and looked at himself in the pond again. Nervously, he looked at the mustached man.

“Luigi doesn’t think Morton looks weird?”

“Not weird, piccolo stella. Just different. The good kind of different,” Luigi using the very words he’d used to describe copper definitely made him feel a little better, “Definitely very, very cool!”

Then Morton remembered something. He turned and picked up the copper ball.

“Kamek said my scales were gray from my magic. Maybe...” he focused very hard. Maybe he could summon another one...

Ludwig tensed. Hang on—When had it gotten dark out?

“MOVE!”

A green blurr tackled him and Lemmy and they all rolled.

Morton cried out when a massive copper spehere, twice his size hit the ground so hard that nearly a third of it sank into the soft dirt path.

“Luddy! Lemmy! Luigi!” he ran around the giant object in an absolute tizzy. His older brothers and Luigi were a bit dusty, and clearly shaken, but uninjured. Morton was frantic nonetheless. “You okay? Didn’t mean to! Was trying to summon little one! Like one Kamek gave! Didn’t mean—you okay?”

“We’re fine, piccolo,” Luigi urged, helping Luddy and Lemmy up. “We’re all fine, but maybe don’t-a summon any more of those. At least for-a now. Si?”

Morton nodded instantly, his eyes still wide and his breathing still heavy and frightened. Lemmy went over to the giant copper sphere and whistled.

“Whoa, Morton, your copper magic is wild!”

The star-faced koopaling wasn’t at all sure he liked it that much anymore. He’d almost hurt his brothers and Luigi...

“You definitely need some work on controlling it,” Luddy chimed in. His voice took on an awed and impressed note, “but...wow. Just incredible!”

“Hmph! But Morton almost—”

“Oh c’mon, that was no worse than when Junior nearly lit Luddy’s hair on fire when his flame came in!” Lemmy reminded them, shrugging off the impending apologies. “Morton, seriously, you’ve just made magic history!!!”

“I did?”

Ludwig and Lemmy looked at each other. They rolled their eyes, before tossing beaming and indulgent smiles Morton’s way.

“There’s never been a dual metal wielder before.” Luddy said, softly, still smiling as he watched that sink in.

“...Luddy sure?”

Both his big brothers nodded. He began to bounce with joy and amazement. Then the overwhelming, all-consuming inability to contain that joy and excitement led him to pounce on Luigi exclaiming:

“Luigi hear that?! Morton did it!!! Morton special!”

“Of-a course you are, piccolo stella. You’re amazing! I’mma so proud of-a you!” He laughed when Morton seized his hand and dragged him off at a run, “Gotta tell Iggy! And Kammy! Tell them now! C’mon! Run faster!”

Luigi’s laugh mingled with Lemmy’s and Luddy’s as they all ran—fast as their feet could carry them back to E. Gadd’s lab. They burst inside. Iggy, E. Gadd, and Kammy were deep at the back by the viewing windows into the tanks. Soon as they were across the threshold, Morton was shouting for them.

“Iggy!!!! Kammy!!! Iggy!!!”

They slid to an inelegant stop. Iggy turned and had to do a double-take.

“Morton, what the—”

“Morton did it!” the star-faced koopaling proudly proclaimed. “Morton summoned copper!! In the garden!! Morton did it!!”

“You...” Iggy’s astonishment became a smile. He joined his brothers in pouncing on Morton, trapping the now copper-colored koopaling between them. They asked a flurry of questions. Kammy gave them their little moment and turned to the human beside them.

“Really? How’d it go? My brother seems to think he has a very strong inclination.”

Luigi nervously rubbed the back of his neck, and smiled nervously “He-a summoned a copper ball twice-a my size!”

Her eyes widened behind her glasses and she glanced thoughtfully over at the big koopaling at the center of the high-energy swarm. Hmmm...Kamek hadn’t mentioned that his scales would change. Then again, there was no previously recorded instance of a dual metal wielder... so they’d really no idea what to expect.

Luigi’s smile vanished when a sharp chill ran up his spine. What was—his heart leapt down his throat when he looked up. Behind thick glass, an enormous shape hovered, looking out on the tender scene. Luigi’s heart pounded in his ears. For the first time he could recall, King Boo’s purple eyes weren’t glaring holes in him. Their keen interest was fixed on one figure and one figure alone, with an expression Luigi couldn’t fathom. Boo was staring at Morton.

Two steps forward at the control panel, he brought his thumb down on the button to close it up. It wasn’t until the metal blinders started sliding into place that the purple eyes found him. How was Boo’s hatred even more intense now than ever before? He stared straight back. Just before the final metal panels slid into place, the ghost king’s mouth moved. Luigi didn’t need to hear them because Boo said them slow and strong. Two words:

Stay away.

Chapter Text

“Ah! Here we go!” THUNK! All the koopalings and Luigi coughed from the plume of dust that filled the air after E. Gadd slammed down a stack of yellowed notebooks on the desk. “Oooh. It has been a while!” The little old man seemed thrilled to bits to be reminded of a long abandoned project.

“Ack! Ahem-hem—” Iggy struggled, waving away the dust with his claw. He gingerly cracked open one of the volumes and perused a few pages. “How long, exactly?” He asked, skeptically.

“Oh...ten...twenty years?” E. Gadd didn’t seem at all sure. Wizened old shoulders shrugged, “No matter! I’m sure there’s something useful to be found here! No point wasting time. Will you be reading them here, or would you prefer to take them with you?”

Blue and white eyes blinked. “Huh?”

“Oh, I’d be happy to attempt and devise a solution myself, but I thought a young budding scientist like yourself would prefer—”

“Naturally,” Iggy admitted, “but I don’t know very much at all about Boos, or ghosts in general, and you—”

“Ho-ho! Well, if you have any questions, you know how to contact me! Send the pup, or, if the mutt’s not around, please feel free to stop by. Don’t forget Luigi, either! He has plenty of experience. I’m sure there’s very little he can’t tell you.” E. Gadd said, smiling broadly, and patting the mustached man firmly on the back, causing Luigi to stumble forward with a nervous laugh. “Luigi doesn’t mind, do you, my boy?”

“No, of course-a not.” Seemed genuine enough, but Iggy couldn’t tell if the man would have voluntarily offered that kind of assistance. He wasn’t sure yet how he felt about Luigi and he suspected the green Mario brother felt much the same.

Unknown to the lot of them, inside the Boo tank a certain King had decided he’d been there quite long enough. He called the others to gather ‘round.

“Booripides! Booris! Boolean! Booluga! Boogie Woogie! BaBoon! All of you! Assemble!”

“Yes, your majesty?” Booris’ nasally voice snivled.

“It’s time! Booregard, I take it that weakspot you told me about two weeks ago still exists?”

“Yes, your ghoulishness! Hehehaha!” his servant giggled, “What about the humans? Won’t they notice we’ve gone?”

Boo smiled, toothily. “Not if you combine your talents.”

Most of them understood. Fifteen boos including several of the ones he’d called by name floated very close together. Their non-corporeal ‘forms’ began to blur.

“Huh?” BaBoon grunted, floating upside-down, confusedly.

“Oh, just get in the pile!” Boolean snapped, whacking the poor guy and sending him into the shifting lump of many ghosts before joining as well.

Their many small shapes blended seamlessly into one large one about the same size as their king. When they spoke it slowly slid from a voice comprised of many voices into a more cohesive single vocal.

“How do we look? Hahahaha! Look at us! We’re the king!” they bobbed up and down, mimicking their leader’s shouting voice, “Stop laughing, you idiots! Go get us chocolate! We likes chocolate!”

The remaining fifty or so Boos in the tank let off a chorus of giggles.

“Enough,” the king hissed, “Just stay that way for now so the humans don’t get suspicious. And DON’T draw unecessary attention to yourselves!”

“Yes, sire. We will behaves!”

“Good.” He grumbled, floating toward corner where there was a weak spot in the tank’s barrier. It was narrow. Hmph. He’d have to squeeze down to fit through...ugh. He hated squishing his regal self, but needs must. He was about to tuck the front of his face into the gap when—

“Where will you go, your spectralness?”

“The capital. I must speak with the Koopa King.”

“Oooh!” pleased giggles and whispers excitedly piped up all around. “The hunter gonna get burnt to a crisp!”

“I wanna see!”

“Let’s go, too!” That was quickly echoed by more than a few others and King Boo had to silence them by holding up a stubby triangular arm.

“No one leaves till I say so! Have you forgotten I’ve still got eyes in Bowser’s castle? If I hear any of you were seen there, you will face punishment! Got it?!”

They bobbed up and down, some whined disappointedly, others grumbled, but none dared defy him. Good. He didn’t want them involved. This was between him and Bowser, and that’s just how Boo intended it to stay.

“Actually, I was also hoping to get a bit more ectoplasm.”

“Ah, but of course, you were!” E. Gadd said, delighted. He clapped his hands together and was about to hobble over to the ectoplasm tank, but—

“I’m sorry, Prince Iggy, but there will be no cargo today.” Kammy said, matter-of-factly. She had a deep frown on her lips. Since Morton had come bounding back overwhelmed with excitement and visually more copper than ferric, her mind was carefully weighing options for their safe collective return to the kingdom. A return flight with Morton as he was was completely out of the question. The clown car was too exposed. Anyone and everyone might see them. And attempting to lay a cloak on them would arouse their suspicions. They were children, but they were astute and magically attuned. They’d notice. She didn’t want to alarm them—young Morton least of all.

Everyone turned to face her, questioningly, and she sighed. “Your father has bidden that I return you all as soon as possible. I’ve been lenient thus far, but I told him you’d be back before the sun begins to fall and—”

“But that’s plenty of time to fly back—”

“No.”

Luigi wasn’t the only one who felt a shiver run down his spine at her cold, clear interjection. Ludwig and Iggy both tensed. There was something Kammy wasn’t telling them, but what?

“No, we will certainly not be flying. If you are quite finished, I will teleport us back, post-haste.” She gently herded them all to standing together. Ludwig actively resisted, his eyes narrowing when he noticed the way her hands lingered on Morton’s copper shoulders.

“Why?” Ludwig dared to ask. “That’ll drain your magic. You already teleported all the way here. How will you be able to teleport us and the clown car—”

“We’re leaving the clown car.”

Alright. Red flags had just folded in on themselves and burst outward in a fiery red supernova. Something was officially up. Ludwig suspected Morton’s new abilities and/or new look had something to do with it because he was the only one of them that she didn’t shoot a scathing glare.

“Why?” the eldest asked again.

Exasperated, she clicked harshly, “Do not question my orders, young koopa! Your father expressly asked me to return all of you safely to the castle. I was going to save it until we got back, but as you insist upon forcing my hand: you, Prince Ludwig, are grounded for the next month!” Ignoring his indignant protest, she glared strictly at the others, “Anyone else want to test my patience? Because I can ground you all, as well!”

There was silence. Iggy and Ludwig made eye contact. Shrewd blue and white eyes asked a question and Luddy subtly glanced at Morton, then back. Iggy shrewdly assessed the situation. True, the only obvious change between Kammy’s arrival and now was their little brother’s appearance. She refused to take the clown car, instead opting to teleport. Ergo, she wanted to avoid...what, exactly? It wasn’t just the time delay as she claimed. They could all tell there was more to it than that. If it was to do with Morton’s appearance...the clown car had an open cabin. Morton could easily be seen. But why would that matter? What difference did it make what Morton looked like? No one cared. He certainly didn’t. Morton was his little brother. Nothing about that had changed. He tried to think if there were any basis for those outside the royal family to feel differently, but there wasn’t very much at all that came to mind apart from a few unnotable entries in their history lessons and a dramatic play Kamek had once read them as a bedtime story.

Long ago, in the heart of dark lands, lived two noble families: the Malachite and the Hematite. No, that wasn’t right. It opened with a bit of prose. It was prettier than that...and grim, if memory served. How’d it go again? Weep, lady, weep...ugh, he couldn't remember. He'd have to visit the library when they got home.

Morton broke ranks and rushed to wrap Luigi in a hug.

“Prince Morton—”Kammy chided, but when he started rubbing his face into the human’s neck, deliberately scenting the man, she was too stunned to scold him anymore.

“Morton will miss Luigi,” the kid lamented, “You helped me use copper magic! Thank you.”

Her eyes bugged behind her glasses when the human returned Morton’s scenting gesture. Was his fatherliness aware of this?! Her brother had mentioned that the eldest and the star-faced koopaling had grown extremely close to the man, but scenting?! That was dangerously familiar! Even if the man could be trusted—

“Aw, piccolo stella. I didn’t-a do anything. Your magic was-a all you.”

“Still will miss,” Morton pouted.

“I know. I’ll miss you as-a well.”

“Weegee will write?”

Luigi beamed and nodded immediately. “I-a promise!” He ran his thumb across Morton’s chin and excitedly reminded the kid, “Go home and-a show your Papa and-a Kamek! They’ll be so impressed!”

Morton’s tail wagged and the koopaling began bouncing with excitement as he nodded, vigorously.

“YEAH! Morton get to show off!” When Luigi tussled his hair, he purred, loudly.

“Yes, of-a course, you do! The first-a dual metal wielder in koopa history!”

Morton’s eyes sparkled with pride as he basked in Luigi’s praise.

“Prince Morton,” Kammy tapped her wand in her hand impatiently, “We’re waiting.”

Ludwig took Morton’s hand and together they joined their siblings in the center of the room. As a blue glow began to surround them, Luigi waved goodbye and called:

“Ciao, bambini!”

Kamek was with him. Running the numbers on a few things pertaining to these trade proposals to determine what kinds of amounts and exchange rates were feasible. It was mind-numbingly tedious but unfortunately extremely vital. Suddenly, a blue flash had them both shielding their eyes. Bowser stood, the tip of his tail twitching in agitation.

“Kammy, kids, what the—? Why did you—What about the car?—what’s—”

“PAPA!”

His arms automatically reached forward to catch the smaller shape catapulting themselves into his arms, even though his eyes failed to recognize them at first. His nose, on the other hand, soon clued him in. Morton? Strong, lingering notes of mint and citrus blossoms mingled and interwined with the kid’s own saffron-like scent. Even as his son cuddled and nuzzled against him, it was hard to keep his mind from drifting to visions of electric blue eyes. No time for that now, he told himself, forcing himself to hone back on in on his eleven-year-old. What was—hang on. Morton...wasn’t gray? His hands gripped either side of the spiked shell and held the koopaling out at arm’s length. Am I seeing things? He shot a quick covert glance at Kamek. Dad looked even more shocked than he was. Not seeing things, then.

“What in the world...?”

“Papa!” Morton waved his arms in the air, ecstatic, his tail wagging so wildly it thumped the sides of his shell. “I did it! I did it! I summoned copper!”

There was a beat of silence. It turned to two. Then two turned to three and then—

“BWAHAHAHAHA!” Bowser laughed and cheered, gently tossing Morton celebratorily into the air and the koopaling shrieked with delight, only to purr like an engine when the king pulled him into a tight and loving embrace. “That’s amazing, my little star! I’m so proud of you.”

When he set Morton down, the little guy grabbed a few fingers of his massive hand and tried to tug him toward the door.

“Come outside! Morton will show—”

Bowser put on the brakes, his smile fading. A peculiar look flashed across his face.

“Actually, maybe you should show me here.”

Lemmy and Ludwig both shook their heads emphatically side to side at that suggestion. Bad idea. Really bad idea. Morton let go of Bowser’s hand and kicked the ground.

“Can’t. Last time when Morton tried to summon little ball,” the kid made a motion to show what he meant by little, “Called GIANT ball instead! Almost crushed Luddy, Lemmy and Luigi!”

Luigi...memories of the man leaning casually against the wall at the council meeting. Inscrutable, mysterious, that unpredictability so quietly intimidating that it snuck up on you like lightning dancing across the sky over a stormy sea...

No, bad brain. Not now! Bowser scolded himself. This was no time to get side-tracked.

Morton took up his hand again. “Wanna show outside! C’mon!”

“No,” Bowser shook his head. He looked to Kamek for help. Thankfully, the advisor was quick as ever to drum up a solution. With a flick of a wand, they were all swallowed by blue light and reappeared in the enormous training room. Shooting dad a grateful glance, he bent down to look Morton in the eyes, “How about you show me here, kiddo?”

Morton crossed his arms.

“Fine. Dad promise Morton won’t be in trouble if I break stuff?” The copper-scaled koopaling asked. He was annoyed and confused, partly hoping the king’s mind would change and he could do it outside after all. No such luck, unfortunately. Bowser just nodded. “Hmph.”

Morton closed his eyes. Lemmy tugged Iggy back to a safe distance. Ludwig bravely stood between Bowser and Kamek, who were considerably closer, and Kammy just hovered behind them, watching closely.

He tried to reign it in this time. He really did. Small. Something small. Like a pair of dice. Yes. That was a good idea. He focused on the shape, feeling the lines in his mind. Two dice. He tried to bring them into existence, clapping his hands together.

Lemmy shrieked and Iggy shouted, “Look out!”

Luddy darted forward. Snatching Morton’s arm and pulling with all his might, trying to fling them both out of harm’s way.

Kamek, however, was fastest. He raised his wand, creating a dome-shaped barrier around both princes as two copper cubes twice their size tumbled down around them. Only once all movement had ceased and the dust had settled did he wave off the spell. He tucked his wand under his arm and clapped.

“Very good! Very impressive, grandson!” He hovered lower and lower until he could hop off his broom and hobble over to pat the koopaling’s arm. “Your control needs work, but this is a very promising start!”

Morton purred loudly and in a rare show of affection scooped his little old grandfather up into a hug. After sputtering a bit, Kamek settled in with a smile and a crackly answering purr.

“So much like your mother...She’d be so very proud of you.” Kamek’s small claws affectionately rubbed the top of Morton’s head. The kid purred even louder, but the purr was interrupted by a few hiccups from the tears.

“Kamek really think so?”

“I know so, Morton. She’d be just as proud as I am.” Morton hugged him so tight he squawked. It was now considerably more difficult to breathe, but that was only a minor inconvenience. Currently, Morton was more important. “Hush now...She’d want you to master this incredible gift you’ve been given.”

“Grandfather’s right.” Luddy added, softly, joining the hug. Then with a chirp and a couple of clicks Lemmy and Iggy joined the pile.

Heavy footsteps shook the ground and suddenly they were all wrapped in warm, golden-scaled arms. Bowser’s face nuzzled each, in turn, settling on Morton last. It was hard not to notice how well the scent of a certain green-clad Mario brother blended and mixed with his family group. Almost like it was meant to be there...the king did his best to avoid thinking too much about that for now and focus on the offspring that needed him. Luddy, Kamek, and the others slowly peeled away. He rumbled soft and comforting low notes until Morton’s sobs faded.

When it seemed the little one was finally steady enough to pull away, the king’s face bent down and he whispered, “Morton...I need you to stay inside the castle walls.” Staring down into shocked and confused young eyes, his resolve nearly wavered. Nearly...but no. He had to do this. “I’ll explain it all later, I promise. But I need you to lie low. Don’t stray. No more redezvous with the human. No more trips with Ludwig. Not looking like—” no, that wouldn’t sound right, “—just until your scales return to normal. Understand?”

Normal...Right. This wasn’t normal. He wasn’t normal. This was different. Luigi said it was the good kind...but...dad...Dad doesn’t seem to think so. Was...was dad...ashamed? Am I an embarrassment? Big hands gently shook him, interrupting his train of thought.

“Morton, please. For me?”

He nodded, stiffly, leaning in to hide his face as best he could in Dad’s neck. Bowser hugged him tight.

“I love you, kiddo. I need you safe. Okay?”

Dad wasn’t embarrassed. Dad was...scared? Morton stared, wide-eyed. What was dad afraid of? His new magic or the way he looked because of it. Had to be, but...Why?

“Can you do that for me? Can you stay inside?” Bowser whispered, careful to keep his voice to a low rumble. The words were meant only for him. Morton slowly nodded. Bowser was relieved. “Good. Promise?”

Morton nodded again. He got another tight hug and a kiss to the top of his head that had him staring. Something was wrong. Had to be very, very wrong for dad to be like this...Next thing he knew dad had set him down on the ground and was smiling and patting his siblings’ heads like nothing had happened.

“Alright! That’s enough of that. Ludwig, no leaving the grounds you’re—”

“Grounded. I know. Kammy told me.”

“Oh. Good, then go on and get lost, all o’ ya! I have mountains of paperwork to get through and it won’t ever get done if I keep getting side-tracked! Love you all, I’ll see you at dinner, alright?”

Slight variations of ‘yes, dad’ rang out from the offspring and soon enough, they’d all filed from the room, shepherded by Kammy, who barked at them to behave and not to get in any more trouble. Kamek was about to follow when Bowser motioned his dad to remain.

“You know what I’m about to ask?”

“I can guess,” Kamek frowned, deeply. Glasses glinted, completely obscuring the eyes behind them, “Unfortunately, I have no definite answer. Safeguards are still in place. It’s been eight years. To go that long with no sign or trace, surely—”

“I’m not about to take that chance, are you?”

Kamek’s beak rankled with distaste.

“See if you can find a way to turn his appearance back to normal. Morton doesn’t leave the castle until his scales are back to gray. And sort the guards. I want only the loyalest and most trustworthy stationed wherever he’s likely to wander.” Bowser’s eyes glowed, “Make it known that anyone inside caught wagging their tongues about my brood will face my wrath.”

“As you command, sire.”

Luddy went back to the music room, Iggy to the lab, and Lemmy...Morton wasn’t sure. The copper koopaling had gone straight to his own room. He needed some time alone. He was tired, emotionally drained. Luigi was proud. Kamek was proud. Dad was proud, too, even if there was more to it than that. But what had hit him hardest was grandfather’s assertion that his mother would be proud. Morton poked an arm up out of his nest and stretched it toward the ceiling watching the copper scales glitter so different from his usual gray. Hmmm...Dad was scared. Should he be afraid, too?

He didn’t feel scared. Then again, he didn’t know what he was even supposed to be scared of. Suddenly he didn’t feel much like laying down anymore. He was still tired, but he couldn’t just sit here. He got up and paced. Maybe he should figure out how to turn back. He thought about iron, about spike balls. He tried to feel the shape in his mind. Feel the weight, the smell, the taste...

CRASH!

“Ah!” he yelped. Well, it hadn’t hit him, at least. And it was the smallest thing he’d summoned so far today. Suppose I should be happy about that, he mused. But he didn’t feel very happy. Especially considering how he now had a big crack in the floor and a copper spike ball about the size of his shell just rolling around in his room. He sighed and caught it mid way across the room and carefully pushed it into the corner so it wouldn’t catch anybody off guard or hurt anyone.

The door burst open and Roy rushed in.

“Morty!!! What’s going on?! I heard a crash and you screamed and there’s guards on the door! What—”

Behind his big brother, two troopas Morton recognized from the military squad he sometimes directed when Dad was fighting Mario. They hurried in, brandishing their spears, then split up. One stuck close to his side as the other searched the room.

“Prince Morton, are you alright?” the one who’d come up to him—Kipper, if Morton was remembering right, asked, looking him up and down. The action might not have bothered Morton so much had the koopa shown any signs of surprise at his new appearance the way Roy was doing, but it was clear that Kipper already knew.

The younger koopaling had been silent too long, lost in thought. Kipper reached out to touch his arm. Morton’s jaw snapped loudly, a dark growl bubbling up from inside his chest.

Roy’s hand found his shoulder. Morton didn’t even look at his big brother. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

“Why were you outside my door?” he growled. Kipper flinched.

“Um...well, we were...Kamek, Magikoopa, gave us orders. We’re to remain posted outside. For your protection.”

“From who?”

Kipper gulped and leaned back when Morton leaned forward over him. His fellow guard, Klanger, shot him a warning glare. He couldn’t look the prince in the eyes.

“I’m sorry, Prince Morton, I can’t—”

“Get out.”

They hesitated.

“Are you sure you’re—”

“GET OUT!” Morton yelled, sending three small spike balls about the size of his shell careening after them. They beat a hasty retreat.

Roy winced when the spikes hit the heavy doors with an enormous bang. Those were certainly going to leave a mark...He eyed his brother. Morton’s breathing was heavy, both fists kept curling and uncurling and every muscle in the younger koopa’s body was tense. Speaking of, it was still difficult not to feel just a little weirded out by the fact that his brother had copper colored scales now. It would take a bit of getting used to.

“Morty, what happened? What’s going on? Why’d dad put guards on you?”

Morton hated this. He hated not understanding anything. He wanted to punch something. He could punch Roy. It probably wouldn’t hurt his big brother much at all, but he’d still feel bad about it later, so he punched the floor instead.

“I don’t know!” he raged.

“Okay! Okay!” Roy’s arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. He tried to struggle, but Roy wasn’t having it.

Morton struggled in the hold until he felt too tired and achy to fight anymore. Only after he sagged limply did Roy release him.

“There we go. I gotcha, little bro. I’m here for ya.”

“Roy, he’s keeping secrets.”

“Who?” Roy asked, his head to one side.

“Dad. He wants Morton back normal.” He hoped his brother would understand how hurt he felt by that.

“I’m sure Dad didn’t mean it like that. He probably just asked ‘em to keep an eye on you ‘cuz you got these new magic powers and he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself. Congrats, by the way,” Roy added, a little nervously, this probably wasn’t the right moment, but he wanted Morty to know he was happy for him. “I mean, wielding two different types of metal magic? C’mon! That’s wicked cool!”

Morton smiled a little, but it slipped away in seconds. “Dad’s scared.”

“Of what?” Roy asked, a tail twitch broadcasting his growing anxiety.

The younger brother shrugged, then confessed in a whisper, “But it’s Morton’s fault.”

“Hey,” Roy pulled the copper koopaling in for a hug. His nose twitched. “Did you visit the human again?”

Morton nodded, sitting back on the floor with his legs out in front of him. Roy joined him.

“Mhm. Luddy borrowed clown car and we went to see Luigi.”

“Is that when, uh,” he motioned to Morty, “all this went down?”

“Was showing Luigi how Kamek taught me to practice with small copper ball and—”

He could tell his little bro was thinking about things too much. He knew what that looked like better than anyone. He should offer up a distraction. Hmmm...

“Tell you what,” Roy smiled, “How ‘bout some fresh air? We can walk down to town and I’ll buy you that glittery shell polish you told me about. How’s that sound?”

“Can’t.”

Roy made a face. “What do you mean you ‘can’t’? C’mon! I know you wanna—”

“Can’t Roy. Dad—” Morton frowned. “Dad said I have to stay inside. No leave.”

“What?!” That wasn’t fair. Morty hated being inside all the time. He loved running around the grounds and visiting the piranha plants and the chain chomps and the cheep cheep pond and—well, if they couldn’t go outside, then— “Alright. How about a walk around the castle?”

“If Roy wants go to town—”

“No way. I ain’t going anywhere you can’t.”

“Roy...thanks.” Morton choked out.

“No problem, little brother. Let’s go explore. This place is huge! There’s gotta be at least a few places in here we haven’t been yet!”

Morton’s face brightened a little when an idea occurred. Roy grinned.

“Oh, got somewhere in mind?”

“Morton wants to find big blanket!”

Roy canted his head. “Huh? The what now?”

“Kamek showed Morton big blanket hung on wall with Morton’s family on it!” his tail wagged, then he realized something and it stopped, “Only, Morton has no idea where it goes. Kamek summoned last time.”

“Ah,” Roy said, finally beginning to understand. He hummed, thoughtfully, then he pulled out his wand. He put one hand on Morton’s head and held out his wand with the other. “Close your eyes. Think about it really, really hard. Picture it in your head.”

Morton did. Roy tapped the side of Morty’s head with his wand, then tapped his own. The image his brother had conjured up was a little bit out of focus, but plenty for him to work with. He raised his wand again. When the spell took effect, it almost pulled clean out of his hand. He tightened his lax grip. It spun him about 80 or so degrees.

“It’s working!” he exclaimed, when Morty looked confused, he explained, “Dowsing spell! We’ll just follow my wand!”

Cheering, Morty nodded, eagerly and they set off. They walked for what felt like ages. Unfortunately, Roy’s dowsing wand didn’t account for walls, so they had to do a lot of zig-zagging whenever it pointed somewhere diagonal from them. They were getting pretty deep in the lower levels. Not quite to the catacombs, because there was still furniture and stuff down here, but—everything was dusty. The halls were dark and Morton had to use his wand to cast a small spot of light to see by.

Roy took off his glasses. Light levels down here were low enough he didn’t need em. This was weird. Why would a tapestry of Morty’s family be hanging up somewhere like this? In cobwebs and filth. Not for first time, Roy wondered what had happened to Morty’s birth parents. He’d never actually asked before. It wasn’t important to the here and now—though he supposed, since they were down here on a quest for a family tree, maybe it was. He still wasn’t sure if it would be okay to ask. He didn’t really want to cause upset.

“Roy thinking about something.”

“Huh? How’d you—”

“Tapping.” Morton said, pointing to Roy’s thigh, where, indeed, his claws were tapping one by one. Damn. He hadn’t even realized.

“What thinking about?”

“Wondering if I could—should—ask you something...” he grumbled, “But I think it would just upset you, so—”

“What ask?”

“Um...you sure you—”

“What ask?” Morton repeated.

“Morty...how did...I mean...your parents, they—”

“Don’t know.” The star-faced koopaling whispered.

In the silent, cobwebby hallway it hit the air like a shout. Roy blinked.

“You don’t know?”

Morton nodded. His eyes clouded, “Can’t remember. Maybe there was screaming. Maybe. J-Just remember their smell. Mom and Pa Morton holding Morton. Then...” he shrugged. “Nothing else.”

“Well, hasn’t Dad ever said anything?”

“Only that they loved Morton. Knew that already, though.” Morton frowned. A tingling nervousness ran down his spine. This place was eerie. Cold, quiet and dark...somewhere nearby some water was dripping and it echoed so much Morton had no idea where it was coming from. He stood a little closer to his brother and asked, quietly, “Roy...have you ever seen a ghost?”

Roy turned to look at him and Morton raised his wand to try and get a better look at the expression on his big bro’s face. Roy hissed, eyes stinging.

“Hey, watch where you point that thing! I don’t have sunglasses on, remember?”

“Sorry.” Morton moved the light away. The continued walking.

“’Course I’ve seen a ghost. There are Boos everywhere in this nutty old castle. Thankfully most of them don’t mess with me too much. Wen sometimes has to burn ‘em with her clothes iron. They try to steal needles and thread and one time they posessed the sewing machine. Wasn’t easy getting ‘em out of that, I can tell you! We had to use so many different spells just to—” he paused. Morton looked scared. “—hey, it’s not so bad. We came out on top and—”

“Roy, can tell secret?”

“You know you can tell me anything.” He reiterated, firmly. Morton looked somehow more anxious.

“L-luigi is...he’s ghost hunter.”

Roy tossed back his head and laughed heartily, only to quiety quickly the second he realized he was laughing alone.

“Seriously? That scaredy cat? I once saw him jump at his own shadow! A ghost hunter? No way.”

Morton nodded, then swallowed, nervously. “Ghosts hurt Luigi bad...s-so many scars...all over.” Morton’s fists tightened. “I’m—I’m scared.”

“Morty...” he walked closer beside his star-faced brother.

“Scared Luigi’s gonna die.”

Roy was trying to come up with a reply to that, when his wand began to pulse with a red glow. “Hey, I think we’re close!” he said, pointing out his wand to Morty. It shifted to a diagonal. “Looks like we just hang the next right and—WHOA!”

Morton froze. His whole body locked up. He couldn’t move. Purple eyes were staring down at him, wide and startled.

The older koopaling shoved between them. Roy had interacted more with the ghost king than the eleven-year-old ever had and he knew that Boo was a tempest in a teapot best left undisturbed.

“Apologies, please excuse us.” He took Morton’s hand and turned to make a run for it, but Morty seemed stuck. “Morty,” he whispered, urgently, “c’mon, we have to move.” To Roy’s utter astonishment instead of yelling or threatening to eat their souls, Boo floated forward. Purple eyes softened considerably, but Roy didn’t like that he couldn’t predict the king’s next move.

“What, you got a problem or something?!” he asked, clenching his fists.

One wave of a ghostly arm and he was suddenly floated up the wall by some kind of spell.

“No! Leave Roy alone!”

Instantly, he was dropped back on his feet. What the—Boo floated past him backing Morty down the hall. He growled, racing forward in pursuit, only for an iron spike ball to thud to the floor. The ghost king looked back at him, eyes shining with a threat. Try it an it will roll, they promised. Try it and you’ll be run down. Roy’s growl intensified, but he couldn’t do anything and Boo knew it. Morton was using the opportunity to attempt an escape. Good, go little bro. Go get dad. Get somewhere safe.

Only for the doors Morton was racing toward to slam closed. Morton turned slowly. Roy’s hands shook. He reached forward. The spike ball creaked ominously. Dammit! He was trapped! Morty needed his help and he was fucking helpless. Dammit!

“No need for that.” The ghost king said, hovering right up to Morton until the kids’ spiked shell hit the doors with a hollow thud. The koopaling was trembling. Boo, who by the laws of the universe, was destined to spend an undead existence feeding on fear—stuck out his tongue and backed up, gagging from the foulness of it. His voice was laced with disgust, “Don’t fear me. I won’t hurt you.”

“Luigi said ghosts dangerous,” Morton remembered who this was. Not just the king of the boos, but the enemy of his friend. The one responsible for Luigi’s scars. He snarled, baring his fangs and claws, “You hurt Luigi!”

“Aw, is that really so bad?” Boo asked, grinning, but Morton’s claws actually swiped at him, phasing through his non-corporeal body. He could feel the wild, heated rage inside the child. He huffed. More swipes. Boo just let him, speaking calm and low. “He tried to stop me from ruling the world. Your father’d do the same to Mario.”

True, but Morton wasn’t any less furious.

“Luigi my friend.”

Boo tutted, with a little shiver of disgust.

“Eugh, poor taste in friends.” He drifted to one side, then the other, scanning the copper koopaling up and down. “Now, Star, you really can’t keep running around looking like that.” He reached a triangular stubby arm toward Morton, but both Morton and Roy growled. Purple eyes rolled. Patient the ghost king was not. Fed up with the bewildered look on the koopaling’s face, his arm flicked out and tapped the kid right on the top of the head.

It was so cold and unexpected Morton gasped and reached for the spot Boo had touched which was when he caught sight of his scales. They were back to gray. Somehow it looked strange now...he’d gotten almost used to the copper...wait...

“Much better,” Boo said, bobbing up and down since he couldn’t really nod approval.

“How did you—”

King Boo just turned his back and fluttered over to Roy. The spike ball in front of the larger koopaling poofed away. Roy growled, locking eyes with Boo while skirting past until he had a clear path to Morty. Only once he had his little brother tucked safely behind him did he dare look away from the eerie marshmallow.

“Morty, are you—”

“Fine.” Morton looked past Roy at Boo, narrowly. “Why turn me back?”

“I need to have words with your father. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is?”

Morton and Roy looked at each other. Roy frowned.

“No.”

“Office.”

“Morty!” Roy exclaimed, shocked.

Morton locked gazes with the ghost king. For once Boo’s smile was soft rather than maniacal. With one last parting dip and bob of acknowledgement, Boo floated up and phased through the ceiling leaving the two royal siblings alone in the dark halls. Roy lowered his wand. They stared at each other, reeling before the elder brother asked the question of the hour:

“Morton...what the heck is going on?”

Chapter Text

Our tale of blood starts, like most, with love

A starcrossed pair battling the hands of fate

'Til strife's foul pointed arrow pierced the dove,

Their lives forfeit to their families' hate

Weep, lady, that your love brings naught but this.

Lo, stand you silent, bare, in pooling blood,

Still dry of tears, never to know his kiss?

Or dare you pull the knife and bring the flood?

She sinks to her knees, fingers trace his chin

For a moment love lends her deathless air

Her smile scares their parents' rage to chagrin

End this feud, she said, we mayn't live to care.

When night falls and you're lain in bed supine,

You'll dread the return of a love like mine,

Like flowers in spring, new love grows in time

And our precious metal magics will combine.

Prologue from Blood Metal by Baroness Leapold von Koopa, mid-second century Ghrod’s rule

At first, Iggy was glad he’d remembered he had a collection of classic Koopa prose in the bookshelf in their room that had the bit he’d been trying to remember since they got back from their visit, but now he was cursing himself. He could hardly keep his hands steady he was so upset. He had to go to the library. Now! Right away. There wasn’t a second to waste! Not if this meant what he thought it could mean, not if there was even a chance of it, not it his little brother could be—Stop it! Slow down! You’re coming to conclusions too rapidly!—the rational side of his brain pleaded. He forced himself to control his breathing as he ran, book of poetry under his arm, straight toward the library as fast as his feet would carry him. Inside, he rushed to a desk, set down the text he already had, then raised his wand.

Plays by Leapold von Koopa, he thought as hard as he could. An entire shelf's worth of books came floating toward him. He examined each, in turn, but it wasn’t until the seventh or eighth stack that he found it. Blood Metal. There were at least eight editions of the work. Of course there were, he rolled his eyes. The baroness’ body of work was profound and many of her plays were constantly being performed to this day. Which one should he start with then? He had to choose carefully, he didn't have all day to read a bunch of different versions of the same text. He lined them up across the desk and flicked his wand to send the rest of the volumes back to their respective shelves. There might be something in one, some sliver of context or turn of phrase changed slightly from the others. Some had forewords from other famous playwrights describing the importance and relevance of the baroness’ works. Hmph, that hardly seemed useful except—hello, Iggy traced his claw across the inner cover of a special annotated edition, Hello, hello, hello! Introduction and annotations by Sir Barnabus Baxtrin. Noted historical scholar, Sir Barnabus Baxtrin. For a few seconds Iggy forgot to breathe. Please don’t say that means what I know it has to mean, he begged, adamantly wishing he was wrong for the first time in his entire life. He rather brutally flipped the page, eyes wildly and frantically darting through the text until he came to the introduction’s end.

The long-standing feuds between the metal wielding noble families are, of course, well known and thoroughly documented. It has long been suspected that it was the bloodiest and cruelest of these feuds that inspired what many view as the Baronness’ most influential and timeless work. After all, it is largely credited for the end of the dangerous dissention in the metallic nobility, but in my advancing years I had begun to wonder: Could it not be more than fiction?

The Baronness was, by all accounts, extremely close to Lord Norman, first-born to the then head of the ferric family, Lord Gordon II. We know they regularly exchanged correspondence and those letters often spoke of Lord Norman’s first cousin, the honorable Gordy Ferrus, named for his esteemed ancestor Gordon the First. Gordy died five years or so into the Baronness’ friendship with Lord Norman and after that, the letters become less frequent and eventually stop. Lord Norman, it is said, was so wracked with grief by his young cousin’s passing that he couldn’t bear the strain of maintaining their relationship.

I was fortunate enough to meet Gordy’s younger brother, Dennis, at a dinner for the Royal Koopa historical society, where I mentioned to him my interest in his brother. Dennis, it turned out, was not long for this world. He was old and in ill health, yet more than once he opened his home to me and welcomed my questions, even indulged me by reading some of the letter manuscripts and telling me all he could remember about the events in question. His memory was hardly perfect. He was seven years his brother’s junior, only eleven at the time of Gordy’s death, but what he did share with me was incredible, shocking and even more heartbreaking than I ever could have imagined. This was a decade ago now and I fear I am nearing the limits of my own mortality. Perhaps I should not have waited this long, but I made a promise to my friend.

This annotated edition of Blood Metal by Baronness Leapold von Koopa is dedicated to the memory of a fine koopa and an even better friend. Dennis’ final words to me were left in a note which he asked I open only upon his death.

My Dear Barnabus,

This is for your book. I know I can trust you to honor and respect my wishes. Thank you, my friend. Please, I pray, append these words to your dedications.

I’m sorry, Gordy, for my cowardice. I should have done this long ago. I know that, but always the fear was so heavy on my heart I couldn’t bring myself to. For many years I refused to even read the notes you’d hidden away, all those letters she sent you. I am old and dying and at night I dreamt of all the lies they told about you and I read the letters. My family, my friends, I pray you will forgive me for the pain my actions will cause, but a wound we refuse to acknowledge was struck will never heal. My brother’s soul and hers deserve peace. Gordy, I’ regret it took this long, but it’s time this kingdom knew who’s story this is and always has been. I will always love you, big brother. May your love shine evermore.

Dennis

Iggy’s clawed feet skidded on the polished floor as he launched into a sprint, annotated text tucked safely under his arm, he raced out the door without putting back any of the other texts or clearing up. Kammy’s cageyness, Dad’s weirdness about Morton showing off the magic indoors, the strange looks they kept shooting when they didn’t think Morton was looking—suddenly all made sense.

She was right! The main character of the play—the copper lord’s daughter—she was right. It had happened again and—and—Iggy’s eyes widened. ‘Our magics will combine...’

I have to find Morton!

Boo phased through the door of Bowser’s office. Koopas were, by no means, paranoid in the same way that creatures considered prey animals could sometimes be, but since their young were often several times smaller and dozens of times more vulnerable than themselves, adult koopas retained some level of instinctual defensive instincts. Bowser’s went off the second a shadow nearing his own massive size stretched below the door. He leapt to his feet, his claws sharp and flexing, loosening his jaw in preparation for the fire that building in his chest.

“Oh please, do contain yourself. You look like an idiot.”

“Boo,” He acknowledged, relaxing a little, but not much. “I thought you were...indisposed.”

“I was biding my time!” The ghost king glared.

“I see. What brings you—”

“We have a problem! A green, mustached problem!”

Bowser sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, eyebrows climbing his face and his lips kept tightly pressed in a thin line. Of course, this was bound to happen sooner or later, but he hadn’t expected it to be the former. Boo had started pacing, floating one way, then the other across the room in front of his desk. Maybe he could just wiggle his way out of having to get involved all together.

“I think you’ll find that’s your problem. I don’t—”

Boo broke the pacing and advanced on him, floating higher to look down into his eyes, baring fangs.

“Star cares about him! Actually thinks their friends,” the marshmallow shuddered and made a face, then a heated glare returned, “The human’s gotten close. Too close, if you asked me!”

“No one asked you,” Bowser rumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Well, you should have! And you shouldn’t have allowed it to happen in the first place! I should have been notified—”

“I’d no idea where you were. And you can relax about Green. He’s no threat.” Bowser’s hard red stare wasn’t reassuring enough, apparently, because Boo shrieked like an angry tea kettle.

“No threat? NO THREAT?!” Boo’s eyes narrowed to slits, “You don’t know the first thing about him!”

Bowser didn’t refute that, but he remained unconvinced. Green had done so much for them. There was no way...

“He and Mario could easily be working for them!”

“Psh!” Bowser couldn’t quite help but balk at the suggestion, “Mario would only ever agree to work as a gun-for-hire for Peaches. And,” he remembered the red plumber’s letter to the council, “I don’t think he’d have it in him. He’s an idiot, but he’s still got morals.”

The ghost king’s eyes glowed brighter. Bowser’s words having almost no effect at all on the specter’s agitated state.

“But—oooooo—Luigi, he’s the cunning one! Shrewd as a poker player and clever as a stinking cat!” Boo hissed.

A single red eyebrow lifted this time, skeptically. Bowser still didn’t believe it. Boo read him like a book.

“He’s convinced you, too?! Well, don’t be fooled by that scaredy cat act! Luigi lulls everyone into thinking he’s weak.”

That wasn’t what Bowser thought at all. He might have shared that opinion of the man in the past, but now...

“The helpless baby brother!” Boo ranted, pacing some more, “He could take down Mario without breaking a sweat!”

Now that, the Koopa King knew firsthand to be true. Lightning flash. Bowser remembered only too well. He wished he could stop remembering...

“I know,” he rumbled agreement. Boo shot him a disdainful look, apparently perceiving it as mocking, so he clarified, “I’ve seen it.”

“Really?! You mean they’ve actually parted ways?!”

He shrugged. “They haven’t been talking, but—”

“Quick!” Boo announced, bouncing eagerly, “We can’t waste this opportunity! If we strike together while Mario can’t—”

“No.” That one word of steely resolve earned all Boo’s ire. The ghost king swelled with spitting rage.

“What do you mean: NO?!”

“I won’t attack him.” Bowser decided it was best to bite this bullet bill and spell things out crystal clear, “And I won’t let you attack him, either. You’ve missed a lot, so I’ll catch you up. The dark lands have joined the allied kingdoms.”

“WHAT?!” The giant marshmallow pouted. “You went soft?!”

“I got wise!” Bowser’s growl shook the walls, “Mario almost cost my kids their lives!” his claws flexed and his fists curled.

Boo’s head mouth tilted down at the corners. Purple eyes danced quizzically over the koopa king’s face looking for an answer to a very specific question. Bowser didn’t need the ghost to ask. He knew.

“Morton twice.”

The room dropped at least fifteen degrees in temperature and it was all Bowser could do not to shiver. There was a death promise in the ghost’s aura. Boo let out a low hiss of outrage.

“All the more reason to sink our teeth into Luigi’s—”

“Green's the only reason he’s still breathing right now.” Bowser gave that a moment to sink in. Now that he’d seen the bitter hatred the ghost king carried for the plumber first hand, he knew it had to be hard for Boo to take.

“Why?”

He blinked back at the purple eyes now directly on his level trying to burn holes straight through his head.

“What do you mean?” his growl built up again, echoing off the desk.

“He had to have a reason.” Boo floated back and forth endlessly trying to puzzle it out, but to Bowser the answer was so obvious it made the question not even worth asking, so he enlightened the troubled spirit.

“He knows they’re kids.”

Boo waved the suggestion away dismissively. “He’s a human. They don’t give a damn about any young but their own!” The specter went back to pacing. “There has to be something else in it...”

“You’re wrong,” Bowser grumbled. He knew what he saw in the throne room. He remembered that voice, cracked and breaking, full of emotion: I’m so, so sorry... he shook his head to clear the thoughts away, and gave Boo the other important news, “He’s been appointed goodwill ambassador.”

Another gasp of shock followed by vehement disapproval.

“Mark my words, Bowser, you’re playing right into his manipulative little hands! That cunning little minx!”

“Regardless what you think, as ambassador he has the same rights as all other dark lands citizens, which, as you’ll no doubt recall, includes your little domain. He’s under my protection. Same as you, technically.”

Glowing eyes sharply narrowed, their brightness eerily concentrated.

“I don’t like him getting close to Star.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them.”

That didn’t reassure Boo in the slightest. Bowser supposed the ghost blamed him for them being in this situation. He frowned when the other king made a declaration.

“As will I.”

“Boo, if you go starting anything—”

“You are in no position to threaten me!” Boo howled, advancing on him, fangs glinting. “Unless you want me telling Star what really happened to his parents!”

Boo had torn out his heart and eaten it in a single sentence. He bounced back fast, enraged. Sparks and smoke leaked out his mouth.

The door suddenly creaked open and Kamek hobbled in at speed.

“Your kingness, Luigi is here and wishes to speak with you most urgently. I tried to tell him you were occupied, but—”

The door, which had not been properly closed opened again and a figure in a green turtle-neck and dark green skirt rushed in. Luigi was wearing a strange back-pack like device that resembled a vacuum cleaner. The second he saw Boo, his eyes flashed and his face hardened.

Bowser stared. The only other time he’d witnessed that level of fury coming off the green plumber was when Luigi had confronted Mario after the attack on his castle. The human pointed the nozzle of the strange contraption at the ghost king. Boo’s fangs bared, defensively. He quickly darted between them, sensing this could quickly spiral.

“Enough.”

Boo’s eyes rolled and the ghost crossed his stubby arms to the best of his ability. Luigi, however, didn’t so much as blink. Bowser advanced a step. Oh, right. Green wasn’t intimidated that easy. Part of him was still thrilled and perplexingly pleased about that, but he hadn’t time to acknowledge that right now. He lay a finger on the nozzle and pushed down till it was no longer aimed at the other king. Blue eyes finally found him. Bowser immediately hated that look.

“Don’t look so betrayed. He’s a citizen, same as you, Ambassador.”

Luigi locked back onto Boo, mustache twitching every couple of seconds with what Bowser could only assume was bottled up rage. It was some time before the man finally spoke.

“He escaped the vault! He should-a be—”

“Left there to rot. Yes, well, I had a few things to discuss with ol’ Bowsey here.” Boo’s tone turned dryly lamenting, “Would you believe he expects the pair of us to coexist?”

Clearly, Luigi didn’t, because he shot Bowser a scrying glance and quirked an eyebrow.

When they looked back at each other and animosity sprang back to life, Bowser growled and came between them again.

“Behave yourselves, the pair of you!”

“You expect him to behave himself?!” Luigi asked incredulously. “The second I turn-a my back he’ll throw-a the spike ball at me!”

Boo laughed, “Of course, I will! It hardly matters as you’re already expecting it!”

“Boo—” Bowser warned.

“I’ll put-a you back in that tank!”

“Hey!” he had to grab hold of the little man to keep him from springing at the ghost king.

Another laugh from Boo rang through the room. Bowser looked ridiculous trying to hold tiny human back and Luigi was actually making it difficult for him to do so. A royal koopa grappling to keep a human from laying into an arch foe?! This was the funniest thing he’d seen in ages. Luigi was cursing up a storm in the fight to escape Bowser’s grip.

Meanwhile, Bowser was trying his absolute best to keep a tight enough hold without actually harming the creature. Humans were so fucking small...he could probably crack the man in two by squeezing too hard. But Luigi wasn’t making this easy for him, more than once he caught himself gripping a bit too tight, his claws scraping a bit too hard. He really hoped he wasn’t causing any lasting damage...

It was magic that split them apart. A bright white flash of light momentarily blinded all present and when the koopa king could finally see again, Luigi and Boo were trapped in dark blue light from Kamek’s wand. The old magikoopa was glaring at them.

“I’ve cast a curse of neutrality on you both! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll refrain from attacking each other again!”

“How’s it work?” Luigi asked, shrewdly assessing the situation.

“If either of you attempts to harm the other, you’ll be temporarily paralyzed until Kammy or myself are available to come and un-paralyze you. And I will certainly not be disrupting my day by going out of my way to do so. Have I made myself sufficiently clear?” he asked, mostly directing the words at the human who’d asked them.

Luigi’s nose wrinkled in distaste, but the plumber had very little choice.

“Fine.” Luigi’s mood improved very quickly, however, on realizing that Boo also could not physically attack him. Now the ghost king was no longer an active threat, he decided to pretend Boo didn’t exist and once Kamek set him down, he turned to face Bowser. “Did the bambini make it-a back safely?”

Bowser’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, then he realized, “Oh, the kids? Sure. They’re fine.”

If they’d been outside they’d have been hearing crickets right about now. Bowser floundered. Don’t just stand there, think of something to say! The kids. Luigi saw the kids today, he could ask about that.

“So, Morton said you helped him with the—”

“I didn’t do anything,” Luigi said, firmly, “It was-a all Morton. All I did was-a cheer him on a little.” Luigi’s smile was so contagious that Bowser wasn’t even bothered about being interrupted like that. If it had been anyone else...they were pulled from the moment by a low hissing sound. Boo was seething on the sidelines. Luigi completely ignored it for so long Bowser was impressed.

Right up until Boo’s tongue darted out and fucking licked the back of the man’s neck. Even though it mostly caught his turtleneck, it did the trick. Luigi jolted up and forward, cursing in that funny language and shaking in terror. Cold sweat glistened on his forehead. That small human body was taught, curled in on itself, caught between fight and flight in pure panic. Boo breathed it in like a fresh morning breeze, menacingly leaning down to speak.

“You can’t afford to ignore me, Luigi, and if you keep setting foot near Star, there are far worse things I will do to you, spell or no spell.”

Bowser’s vision whited out. His dragon took over and he would have steamrolled the ghost had it not been for a sudden and sharp bristle of defiance from the human that gave him pause.

Luigi was still trembling, but he straightened up just a little, a glimmer, an echo, a ghost of the lightning Bowser knew all too well seemed to be sparking through the fear.

“No. Morton is-a good kid who just-a needed a friend. I won’t let you take-a that away from him.”

Boo floated closer. His triangular arm reached out and tilted Luigi’s face up forcing the man to look him in the eyes. The human shivered under his icy touch as he slowly and deliberately traced that jaw up to brush over the soft cheek. All the color had drained away, leaving the plumber pale and horrified and then—

A strange dark blue film seemed to seep over the ghost king and become solid as stone, freezing him in place. Luigi didn’t waste any time looking a gift Yoshi in the mouth and, soon as the shock wore off, rushed to safety.

White mist still clearing from his mind, Bowser purred softly when Luigi took up position at his elbow. The human saw him as safe. Dragon liked that.

Kamek’s wand slowly lowered, then he turned to face the plumber, a bit ashamed. “I’ve reset his end of the spell so he’ll freeze any time he attempts to make physical contact with you. I'm sorry I did not do that sooner. I didn't expect him to...”

Luigi just nodded.

Finally feeling more koopa than dragon again, the king voiced his concern, reaching out. The second his warm, golden scaled fingers made contact, however, Luigi startled, breathing fast. Bowser threw up his hands and took a step back. Luigi apologized before he had a chance to.

“Sorry,” Green fumbled, then reached out and patted him on the arm. “I just need a minute.”

“Take as long as you need. Are you hurt?”

Confusion crinkled the brown eyebrows. “He didn’t hurt me, he just—”

“I meant from when I was holding you. You got pretty squirmy and I probably left some scratches or broke a few bones or—”

“What?” Luigi’s head shook side to side, now positively bewildered, “Of course, you didn’t!”

“But you were fighting me so hard—”

“So you think all humans are made of glass?”

This was the very first time since they’d ‘met’ in the throne room that Green’s anger was directed at him. He didn’t like it one bit, but he also didn’t see why the man was getting so riled up about it. He asked 'cuz he actually half gave a damn whether or not Luigi was in pain, and he didn’t think he should be getting growled at. So, like an idiot, he had to escalate things...

“Well, I got zero evidence that says they’re not!”

Luigi slid up the sleeve on his left arm, exposing the flesh beneath. Huh. There were hairs there. Bowser hadn’t realized humans had hairs on their arms. It looked kinda soft...Filing that away, the king’s eyes carefully inspected the area. There were some scars there, but nothing fresh that he noticed. He huffed steam out his nostrils, blatantly unconvinced, meeting Luigi’s frown with a stern glare.

“That’s not where I grabbed you.”

Color flared in the the man’s face. Cheeks flushing pink.

“Sire, perhaps this is not the time to—” Kamek attempted, soft and sensitively, to defuse things before Luigi was made any more uncomfortable.

“No, it’s fine,” Luigi said, shooting the magikoopa what he hoped was a grateful smile and not a kind of grimace as his fingers gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged one side up enough for Bowser to see from about his belly button to his bottom ribs. “See? I’m fine.”

It took Bowser two swallows to finally find his voice. “That is not fine! You’re purple! Kamek!”

“Oh, please, they’re just bruises—they barely even hurt, just—” he sighed in defeat when the magikoopa’s warm healing magic washed over him. The left side of his shirt was still pushed up when it finished. Both he and Kamek were surprised by the dark growl that left the koopa king. They looked over. Bowser was glaring at Luigi’s side.

“Heal those, too,” it was spoken so low the vibrations rumbled through Luigi’s bones. Bowser nodded at the claw-like scars.

Kamek’s beak crinkled. “Regrettably, your agitatedness, I cannot.”

The growl started up again. Kamek sighed and attempted to explain, while the green Mario brother’s annoyance was softening considerably. Bowser was just trying to help. The koopa king actually seemed to care...on more than a purely diplomatic level? Maybe it was wishful thinking, but, for a second Luigi’s ears thought that growl became more a kind of whine.

“Can’t you do something—”

“No, sire. They’re marks left by vicious spectral magic, there is nothing to be done. He is very fortunate the damage isn’t worse.”

“Yeah, well, you try fighting a mansion’s worth of ghosts to save your sister, and then we’ll talk.” Luigi huffed, frustratedly.

“He’s not disrespecting you,” Bowser’s voice was quiet, almost gentle.

Luigi wasn’t really sure he’d ever thought Bowser and gentle would be applied in the same sentence as far as he was concerned. With the koopalings, sure, of course, but him? He was just a Mario brother. What could Bowser possibly care? But he does care...whispered a voice from the back of Luigi’s mind, his eyes are so soft...

“Koopas have deep respect for battle scars. There are very few foes strong enough to leave marks behind. These,” he shocked Luigi and Kamek by slowly reaching forward.

This time Luigi only flinched in slight surprise. Bowser held eye contact with him the entire time, carefully gagueing, measuring Green’s reaction.

When warm golden scales made contact with his scarred flesh, those burning lava eyes locked onto his, he finally parsed the look on the king’s face. Respect. Bowser didn’t think his scars were ugly. Bowser respected him all the more for surviving the injuries that left them there. And those warm fingers were tracing them like lines on a map...suddenly Luigi felt very overwhelmingly hot, but those eyes had him entranced. As long as their molten depths were searing him, he couldn’t look away.

“Such resilient perseverance against the claws of death...is beautiful.”

He thinks I’m beautiful? Or maybe he was still talking about Koopas in general? But wouldn’t that still mean he thinks I’m—or that my scars are—Luigi could hardly wrap his mind around anyone seeing his scars and thinking they were anything but ugly marks that marred his skin...but...Bowser’s claws very carefully tugged his shirt back down, still not breaking eye contact.

“That kind of persistence is something to be proud of. You don’t have to hide them under long sleeves and heavy clothes.” Something else flickered across Bowser’s facial expression, but it was gone before Luigi could figure out what it was. The koopa king rumbled, “You’ll overheat.” Before finally breaking eye contact.

Luigi’s mind reeled and he was returned to the present when Bowser barked:

“Kamek, show him to the guest suite.”

“Yes, your hospitableness.” Kamek gave a little bow, then climbed on his broom and bumped Luigi, urging the man forward, “This way, Luigi.”

Chapter Text

Iggy was about ready to start pulling his hair out. He burst into the music room without even bothering to knock and didn’t so much as flinch when Luddy hit a sour chord, he was far too panicked at this point to do anything but ask, “Have you seen Morton?”

Ludwig was standing and rushing to meet him in seconds.

“Not since earlier. What’s up?”

“I—” Iggs shook so bad that even Luddy’s arm could do nothing to steady him. He fought to swallow and regain the power of coherent speech long enough to explain as he thrust the book towards the eldest. “It’s true, Luddy. It’salltrue!”

“Iggs, slow down, what are you talking about? What’s going—”

The book was thrust even more fervently upon the eldest.

“I-Introduction...”

Ludwig glanced at the title before cracking the book open. Iggy squirmed under the intensity of his brother’s darkening gaze, nodding at the text. It took Ludwig only a few minutes to read it through. Ludwig was smart. Frighteningly so, at times. Iggy didn’t even have to say anything else because when the book slipped out Ludwig’s fingers in the eldest’s shock, leather binding slapping the floor, Iggy knew his brother understood.

“What else is there? Have you read the rest?”

“Not yet.” Iggy shook his head. “Wanted to find Morton. The way Kammy, Dad and Kamek were acting earlier—”

“They think he’s in danger.”

Had he mentioned that Luddy was scarily smart sometimes? It was also vaguely terrifying how outwardly calm the eldest seemed during all of this. Luddy wasn’t calm, not really, because the fingers of the musical prodigy’s left hand were stretching and reaching in a rhythmic pattern—like they were playing piano. What piece, Iggy couldn’t begin to guess, but the finger positions left little doubt. Was it a nervous tick or something that helped maintain the otherwise perfect outer calm? He’d no idea, but if it was the latter, it was certainly working.

“Let’s go find our little brother.” When Iggy started to move, though, Luddy threw out an arm, then pointed to the book on the floor. “Bring that.”

Iggy nodded and scooped it up. They were on their way down to the main staircase to begin their search in the throne room, the center of the castle, when the very subject of their joint anxiety appeared with Roy in tow.

“Morton.” Ludwig couldn’t refrain from taking his little brother by the arm and carefully looking the eleven-year-old over. “Your scales are back to iron.”

That his statement resulted in a growl from Roy had the hair on the back of Luddy’s neck standing up. His eyes narrowed.

“What happened?”

“King Boo.”

“What?” Luddy’s tail twitched. But…wasn’t Boo locked up in that crazy old scientist’s tank? How did—

“He turned Morty back to normal.” Roy clicked apologetically when the word ‘normal’ made Morty flinch, then went on, “Then he said he had to speak with dad and floated off. What’s up with you two?” Roy was familiar enough with Luddy’s emotional cues by now to know that whenever the eldest was ‘playing the phantom piano’ it meant something was wrong. Judging by the fact they were this pent up looking for Morty…Roy was prepared to bet it wouldn’t be good.

“Luddy scared.” Morton said, in a voice that was almost a whisper. Luddy stared at the star-faced koopaling and the others stared at the eldest.

Iggy and Roy were similarly stunned by the pronouncement. Though Iggy knew it had to be true, he’d no idea how Morton had seen it. Even he couldn’t see anything but an indefinite anxiety behind that calm façade. The look on Roy’s face told him that wasn’t what his tallest brother would have guessed either.

Luddy surprised them all again by looking around, searchingly, as though afraid they might be observed. Tugging Morton close, the blue-haired koopaling murmured, “Come on, let’s go to your room. Iggy—” Luddy swallowed, “There’s something we need to show you.”

Roy and Morton both shuddered at the ominous chill in those words, but Morton rallied bravely and held out his hand, which Luddy took.

The eldest led the way. Iggy followed and Roy hung back a step. They’d fallen into a kind of protective flanking position around their ferric sibling. Luddy up front, Iggy drifting occasionally from one side to the other and him at the back. If this were a battlefield, Morty would be completed shielded right now, well—almost. Iggy couldn’t exactly mind both sides all by himself—

Footsteps as they neared the top of the stairs. Small gait. Multi-colored hair. Lemmy’s eyes were soft and his beak clenched nervously.

“I felt—” seemed he couldn’t get any farther than that. He and Iggs locked eyes and it was pretty obvious they were doing the twin thing. “I’ll go with you.”

They weaved down the halls as a combined unit. Now with complete formation surrounding their metal-wielding brother. They heard voices up ahead in the royal wing. Ludwig turned the corner first. The others watched his clawed hand sliding silently into his shell for his wand. They tensed and did the same.

“I’m only going to ask one more time,” Wendy growled. Roy’s fangs worked at his lip, she sounded furious. When they came around the corner, he began to understand why. She was interrogating the guards on Morty’s door. “What are you two goons doing here? And where are my brothers?”

The poor troopas looked very afraid. As they should be, Roy thought. She had her wand out. If they’d let her get that worked up, they must have been stubbornly refusing to answer her for a while now, and she was about two seconds away from exploding.

“Wendy,” Ludwig called. She turned. At first she was relieved to see them, but very quickly she perceived the gravity of the situation. She wasted no time hurrying over to join them.

“What’s going—”

“We need to talk.” Ludwig said, softly. His eyes noticed the guards watching them closely and his beak opened with a very low, nearly inaudible growl. They closed their mouths and pretended to stare straight ahead. Instead of Morty’s room, he led them to his own and held open the door so they could all file inside. Once they were in, he closed it tightly. With a flick of his wand he put up a lock and then a sound barrier. Wendy broke the silence first.

“Alright. Somebody want to tell me why there’s guards on Morty’s room?”

Quickly, the twins, Ludwig and Morton explained the leadup to the emergence of Morty’s copper powers and the subsequent rushed return. They were cutting corners and going so fast that none of them had paused long enough to consider one key thing…

“Luigi? Mario’s brother?”

Roy was surprised when Morty and Luddy turned to him looking shocked.

“You didn’t tell her?” Ludwig asked, stunned. The eldest mentally grouped Roy and Wendy into a kind of unit, same as Iggy and Lemmy. It simply hadn’t occurred that Roy might not have—

Oh boy. Blue eyes turned on him with glacial chilliness. Immediately, he began to panic, fearing she would accuse him of not trusting her, berate him for going behind her back. What if she couldn’t forgive him for lying by omission? He hadn’t done it by accident. He’d chosen not to share his revelations with her. What if she couldn’t forgive him for that? What if she thought—She’ll hate you. She’s going to think you betrayed her trust. You said you’d always be there for her. That you could tell each other anything. But you didn’t. You’ve been keeping secrets. You lied to her. You told her you were going training with Kamek and the others. You didn’t even tell her the truth about what happened during Mario’s attack. She’s going to be furious…

“I know you trust me,” she walked up to him and her small claw pressed against the center of his plastron, right over his heart. “I know that,” she reiterated. The ice in her eyes melted into understanding. “You were trying to protect me, huh?”

“I—” he couldn’t look her in the eyes as he admitted it, “I wasn’t sure the guy could be trusted and—I didn’t want you in danger.”

“Pft,” she scoffed, “As if I’d ever be in danger around that beanstalk. He gets within ten feet of any kind of kid and he might as well be an oversized teddy bear.”

The others stared at her for a few moments in shock. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her plastron.

“What?!” she asked. They were staring at her as though she had something on her face. “He stops to pet the baby piranha plants like every time he’s here,” perhaps that was slight hyperbole, but she’d certainly seen the green Mario brother pause mid-run, letting his brother race ahead, so he could bend down and tickle the little critters more than once. They liked him, too. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen any snap at him. They’d shoot fireballs at him sometimes, but they did that to everyone, herself included. She suspected it was their idea of fun.

Her brothers were silent for a few moments, taking it all in. At which point, Ludwig and Morton explained how they’d come to form a friendship with Luigi. In light of the things she’d said, they weren’t surprised when she didn’t object or challenge their opinion of the man in any way. When they went on to describe the true events that took place during Mario’s attack on the castle, her face turned impassive. Her eyes returned to rest on Roy.

“You should have told me.”

“Didn’t want to upset you,” he said, though even as he mouthed the words he felt how pathetic an excuse it was.

“Yeah, well, I’m upset now.”

“Sorry.”

She sighed. “I know you are.” Her claw wrapped around two of his fingers and squeezed. “Just…don’t forget me, okay? I feel left out.”

It was Ludwig who answered, startling everyone a little.

“None of us will. From now on, the six of us are in this thing together.”

“What about Larry and Junior?” Lemmy asked.

Luddy’s face was grave yet pained. “We’ll figure that out later.”

“So, what exactly is going on?” Wendy asked, her face pinched and her eyes narrowed. She saw the quick eye contact between the inventor and the musician repeat and immediately cottoned on. “You two found something out?”

Iggy’s nod was shaky as his voice. “I—I think so. I haven’t read it completely, but—” his claws dug slightly into the cover of the book in his hands. All eyes landed on it. Silence descended. Roy, Wendy, and Lemmy all zeroed in on the text. A ripple of confusion, tension and nervousness passed over them as they read the title.

Morton tried, but he was already frightened by the older koopalings’ reactions and his reading comprehension was even worse under emotional pressure, so he demanded, “Iggy read.”

Iggy nodded again, still shaky. Morton sat down on the floor. Roy quickly joined, sitting shoulder to shoulder for support. Wendy settled in front of him. Iggy sat across from them and Lemmy climbed up to sit on his twin’s shoulder, calming the poor rattled genius by offering that small semblance of normalcy. As though Iggy weren’t about to turn his little brother’s world upside down…

“Uh-um…” Iggy struggled and gulped, “This is B-blood Metal by Leapold von Koopa. Kamek read it to us a couple times when we were little. Do—do you remember?” he asked Morton. The gray koopaling’s head shook slowly in the negative. “O-okay. Um…it’s—it’s about—” he was flopping like a cheep cheep on the sand faced with Morton’s intensity. He jumped as a claw squeezed his shoulder and his big brother swooped to the rescue, kneeling beside him and gently plucking the text from his claws.

“It’s a play about two lovers written centuries ago. The son of a ferric earl and the daughter of the copper lord. Back then, there was fierce hatred between the metallic noble families.”

“Morton remembers Kamek’s history lessons,” the star-faced koopaling explained. “Kamek said some writer help show metal families it was pointless fight. That this?”

Ludwig nodded, but before he could go on, Morton continued.

“But didn’t make everything better. Malachite angry.”

This was news to the rest of them and their collective anxiety rose tenfold. Kamek had apparently gone more in-depth with Morton’s lessons on metal-wielding history than theirs. While that made a lot of sense, it was also frustrating that they’d been left in the dark. Luddy urged Morton on, “What do you mean?”

Morton’s head drew back, surprised and a little nervous. “Luddy don’t know?”

“No.”

Normally it felt kinda good knowing things Luddy didn’t. Made Morton feel smart. But now…

“Ferric koopas tried make peace. Offer Malachite friendship, but copper lady attacked them. Some koopas said she not thinking right and others said she tried to kill. Got banished for it by king Ghrod. Malachite even angrier Ghrod took ferric side. So left.”

Luddy’s head snapped up to the gray koopaling’s face.

“What do you mean ‘left’?”

Canting his head to one side, Morton spoke slowly, “Left. Entire Malachite clan did voluntary exile. Declare support for copper lady and anger at Ghrod.”

Claw playing some imaginary chords, Luddy was the picture of calm as he shared his thoughts aloud. “Then your mother might not have really been the last of the line.”

“But Kamek said—” Morton’s eyebrows drew close together.

“We only have his word for it,” Ludwig whispered. He opened the book, drawing everyone’s attention back down to it. “Morton…in this story, the lovers die because their families hate each other too much to accept their love for one another. Understand?”

“But,” Morton’s mouth curled down in a frown, “Just a made-up story.”

Roy’s arm wrapped around the gray scaled shoulders and squeezed tight. There were a few seconds of silence. When Morton spoke again, it was in a high-pitched wavering voice as he struggled to hold back tears.

“Right?”

“This version has added sections and context by Barnabus Baxtrin. He’s—”

“Writes the history books.” Morton sniffed, he was starting to shiver in anticipation. “L-Luddy…”

“I won’t ready it to you unless it’s what you want. We’re all here for you.”

One minute of silence felt like a thousand years. Then finally:

“Want to know.”

“You’re sure?” Luddy asked, tenderly.

Morton nodded resolutely. “Morton needs to. L-Luddy will read to me?”

“Yes,” through the veneer of calm the cracks were starting to show. Tears threatened to blur the eldest’s vision. “One sentence at a time,” he forced a smile, “Like always.”

“O-okay.”

Iggy crawled over to sit on Morton’s other side and Lemmy crawled over onto gray shoulders to wrap his arms around Morton’s thick neck.

“We’re here for you.”

More sniffles from the eleven-year-old. Luddy waited until they’d subsided before he began. True to his word, they went one sentence at a time, pausing every time it was too much, Morton whining and leaning into them. Try as they might, there was very little they could do to comfort him. Poor thing was inconsolable. Ludwig had to set the book aside a couple of sentences away from the end of the third paragraph of Baxtrin’s introduction. The dawning reality was hitting Morton far too hard and—

There was a knock on the door. Six heads turned to stare uncertainly at it, Morton sniveling softly and wiping his snout with the back of his hand briefly trying to regain some kind of composure until a voice called out from the other side.

“Bambini? Are you-a in there? I just-a wanted to—”

They didn’t get to hear what Luigi wanted because Morton jumped up and rushed the door. Luddy barely had enough time to disengage the enchantments before his brother tore it open.

Luigi yelped as claws raked up a fistful of his shirt and he was bodily lifted clean off the ground and flung back down on his feet inside before the door was closed again. He heard a chain-like sound and looked back over one shoulder in time to see a magical lock clicking closed on the doors and a barrier falling into place. He didn’t have time to wonder about it, because a sharp, keening whine more pained and ragged than he’d heard since he’d pulled Morton from the collapsed castle outpost had his arms rising to console the child suddenly tackling him in a fit of sobs.

“Morton…” he whispered, softly, rubbing the koopaling’s shell and head. Tears were wetting turtleneck where the kid’s face pressed to the side of his neck, unsteadily inhaling his scent. The Italian searched the room, locking quickly onto the others, eyes questioning. Ludwig stepped forward.

“We think we know why dad, Kammy and Kamek have been acting so weird about Morton’s powers.”

Without so much as a word in response, Luigi scooped Morton up and turned toward the bed, then back to Ludwig with the obvious question. Luddy nodded, not batting an eye at the feat of strength. He’d seen Luigi do that before. The others were gob-smacked. The green Mario brother set Morton softly down on the bed, then sat down beside him. Morton buried his face in the human’s chest.

“Morton no understand…why dad and Kamek no tell? How I ever know if they lying? Why secrets?” the eleven-year-old sobbed. “I scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared.” Luigi said softly, “But I also don’t understand, piccolo stella. What do you-a mean?”

“Luddy book says was other copper and iron koopas love each other.” Morton hiccupped.

“And, whatsamatta with that, piccolo?”

“Families kill them for it.”

Luigi’s grip on the koopaling tightened. Blue eyes were hard and flickering with rage as they searched Ludwig for confirmation. The eldest nodded grimly and held out the book. Luigi kept one arm around Morton as he took it and began to read.

Roy took advantage of the distraction to move and join them on the bed. He settled in on Morton’s other side. He’d no desire for the human to make a big deal out of it, but there was no way he could not be there for Morty right now. His poor little brother was having his world all shook up. Morty’s hand instantly reached for his and he took it.

Unlike Iggy and Luddy, Luigi kept going past the first few pages. He read the prologue. His heart thudded in his ears like a drum as he hovered on those final words. Our magics will combine. Morton, his piccolo stella.

“What happened to-a the copper koopas?”

“Kamek said Morton’s mom was last of the line, but—”

“Exiled. Went far away,” Morton sniffled. Luigi squeezed his shoulders.

“No idea where?”

A shrug. “No koopa know for sure.”

Everyone leaned forward. They could all hear an unspoken ‘but’ hovering in the air behind that sentence. Ludwig climbed up on the bed and reached across Luigi to his little brother.

“Morton, if there’s anything you know that might be useful…”

“Is dumb.”

“No. It isn’t. You have good instincts. Please tell us.”

“Malachite like mountains. Big mountains. Not too snowy. Used to live north-west before they left. In mountain lands behind volcano mountain.”

“Then that’s a place to start.” Ludwig said, smiling a bit hollowly. “We can go there and look for answers.”

“Um, Luddy,” Lemmy piped up. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” at the blank stare, he rolled his eyes, “You’re grounded.”

Ludwig growled, “I’m not about to let that stop me.”

“Ahem,” Wendy interjected. “Why don’t Roy and I go? Lemmy’s got a point, Dad and Kamek are going to be hovering all over you for the next few days.”

Roy puffed hot air and grunted agreement. There was a long bout of eye-contact between the three before Ludwig folded.

“Fine, but please, be careful.”

Morton whined. “Don’t want.”

“Morton—” Ludwig tried, but Morton wasn’t having it.

“NO! Morton don’t want others in danger ‘cuz of him!”

“There might not even be any danger, little brother, that’s what we’ll be trying ta—”

“No,” he whispered but with just as much resolve. “J-Just wait little bit. Morton…I wanna ask dad.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good—” Luddy began, but Luigi raised a hand and silence him.

“Piccolo musicista, your brother is-a right. The first thing you need to do is-a speak with your father.”

“Luigi stay.” Morton demanded, then realized what he was saying and his voice dropped to a more tentative whisper, “Please?”

“Anything for you, piccolo stella.”

Morton warbled with relief and threw his arms around the man, nuzzling into his neck with a rough purr, voice slightly raw from all the crying. “Luigi h-helps Morton feel safe.”

The human’s eyes widened, then crinkled at the corners from a beaming smile. He rubbed his chin along the top of Morton’s head with a relieved sigh of contentment. “I’mma glad.”

“There’s—” Morton closed his eyes. “Luigi...R-roy asked Morton how parents...” he choked.

“Yes?” Luigi gently encouraged, though he could feel a prickle running up his spine. His ghost hunting instincts began to scream. Boo was nearby. He was prepared to bet money on it. Kamek must have finally set the ghost king from magical paralysis. But he couldn’t get distracted. Morton was the most important thing right now.

“I don’t remember very good. Was small.”

“How small, piccolo stella?”

“F-four,” he stammered. Luigi rubbed his shell and he purred a little. “All I remember is smell of Ma and Pa Morton. Hug me close. Warm. Felt right, but...also...wrong.”

Every eye in the room was trained on Morton now. Listening with bated breath.

“Something wrong. Wanted ma, but Pa Morton took Morton. Maybe—” Morton was struggling to breathe.

“Easy piccolo, easy...I’ve-a got you.” Luigi soothed. Morton sobbed.

“I think—m-maybe P-pa Morton c-crying and—”

“Morton, you don’t have to—” Roy whispered, his voice cracking. Morton emphatically shook his head.

“No more secrets! Morton has to tell!”

“Okay. Okay, piccolo stella. Me and your-a brothers and-a sister are here.” The plumber urged. He motioned the other koopalings to join them. Slowly, Iggy, Lemmy and Wendy climbed up and piled on and around their distressed younger sibling, all rumbling low purring notes of comfort. It was so sweet Luigi had to wipe a few tears from his eyes. “Whenever you’re ready, bambino.”

“P-Pa Morton cry and—and then—Morton hear screaming.” A fresh round of tears came pouring out, “Morton—hic—can’t—hic—remember anything else!”

Luigi clutched the kid like he was afraid Morton would disappear, holding on tight and keeping steady breath until the hyperventilating child was able to join him in deep inhales and exhales. “They loved you, Morton. You know that, si?” he smiled when he felt Morton’s nod against his neck. “Good. That’s a good. That’s-a the only thing you ever have to remember. Don’t-a ever forget-a that, okie-dokie?”

He got a sniffly little nod and a muffled, “Oky.”

The human’s heartbeat was so steady and soothing. Morton blinked the ebbing tears away, claws curling gratefully around Luigi. Safe here. Safe and warm. He closed his eyes. He felt so tired of it all. Of secrets and anger and fear and hatred...he was tired. He just wanted to sleep. He felt it pulling him toward the land of dreams, but—

“Please...” he whispered, sleepily, “Don’t go.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Roy rumbled.

“Weegee neither?”

The plumber and the largest koopaling made brief eye-contact over Morton’s head. Roy’s face was firm, but the words that left him weren’t what the plumber expected.

“I won’t let him get away.”

Morton purred. “...good.”

Chapter Text

Larry was looking for his siblings. Junior was in the art room painting. Had been for most of the day, but for some reason, the second-youngest koopaling had hardly run into anyone else all day. This morning Roy had given him a koopa-shell ride for a while. Then he’d played dress-up with some of Wendy’s ambitious fashion projects, none of which fit him properly. That had been fun until she declared he was too distracting and had kicked him out of the sewing room. Lame.

So he’d gone looking for some of his other siblings to play with, but Iggy, Lemmy, Morton and Luddy were nowhere to be found. Which was weird. Then later he’d overheard Kamek telling some guards to stay by Morton’s room. He went to visit Kammy after that. She seemed very tired. He asked if she was okay, but she waved him off and just said that her magic was a little drained and she’d be right as rain in a few hours. She allowed him to stir some of the potions she was working on, but said he couldn’t taste them, which made it much less fun. When he asked her where the others were, she told him they’d just gotten back a bit ago and let slip that Luddy was grounded for some reason or other. Huh, well, at least his siblings were back! Now there’d be something to do!

Only now, he couldn’t find them. AGAIN. Seriously? He was supposed to be a spy! The coolest spy ever! No one should be able to hide from the coolest spy ever. Hmm. He’d looked pretty much everywhere else that he could think of, so maybe they were in their rooms? He started at the end near Dad’s room and checked each one. His room was empty, naturally. And no one had been in there, or if they had they hadn’t messed with his stuff. Good. Junior’s room was—messy—but also empty. Roy’s: empty. Wendy’s: empty. Iggy and Lemmy’s room: empty. Morton’s: empty. And Larry did not like the guards looking at him. He was a spy. Unfortunately, though, there was no other way into Morton’s room, so he had to walk past them. Still. They could have pretended to look the other way…

Only one room left. Larry tapped it with a claw. No answer. He turned the handle and leaned in with all his weight, expecting it to move with him. It was a door. That’s how they worked. OW! He chirruped in pain as, instead of opening, it stayed put and his shoulder just slammed into it. Ow…he whined a little. He heard those stupid guards shifting around. They were staring at him again. He glared. They looked away. Once they had, he rubbed his aching shoulder till it stopped hurting so much. He used his claws to grab both door handles, pushing them down and then trying to shove them inwards. Nothing. Grrr. Hmph! Well, fine! He took out his wand. He was going to try blasting it open when he remembered that spies were supposed to quiet and subtle. Hmmm, he waved his wand in a little circle to assess the magic. Definitely Luddy’s spell. Very strong. He’d have to be smart. No way his magic could ever undo Luddy’s, but…maybe it didn’t have to. Larry was a superspy after all! He didn’t need to unlock the big doors if he could make his own little one! He brandished his wand and with a beam of super concentrated magic, slowly cut an archway just big enough for himself to squeeze through. You had to be very slow and neat with this kind of magic because if you went too fast it wouldn’t cut all the way through. His scales itched in that very peculiar way that only happens when someone was watching. UGH! Dumb guards!

‘What are you looking at?’ he clicked, angrily.

‘N-Nothing, Prince Larry,’ they chirped, looking bashfully away.

He returned to his very careful slicing. When he finished, pushing on the piece of door with his claws, it came loose and his tail wagged. He slid it to one side and got down on his plastron, wiggling his way through. He almost got stuck before he thought of using his feet to push off the ground to help work the rest of the way through. Inside was quiet, but definitely not empty. He could smell his siblings and hear their soft breathing. He stood up straight and looked around. Oh! He chirped, happily, to see a koopa pile on the bed. Then realized he hadn’t been invited. He huffed and poutingly stomped a foot. Not nice. Not nice at all! Well…maybe he’d just join in anyway. They usually didn’t mind. Wait! Almost forgot! He shouldn’t just leave a hole in the door. That would never do. Spies shouldn’t leave behind evidence of their secret entrances. He put the piece he’d cut back in place and bound it back with magic glue. To him it was perfect and surely no one would ever know the difference, but well…he was eight and he still underestimated just how observant adults could be. Secret door safely ‘hidden,’ he dashed over to the bed and hopped up.

Ludwig, who was closest, grunted sleepily.

‘Lemme in!’ Larry demanded, crawling over his big brother’s dark blue shell to be more in the middle with the others.

“Larry?” Luddy’s head rose a little and heavy eyelids lifted a fraction. He glanced at the door. The spells were still in place. “Wha—” he yawned, “How’d you get—”

“Shhhh,” said a nearby familiar voice, but it was one Larry hadn’t expected to hear. He clicked in surprise when he looked up and found a mustached face staring back down at him. He tilted his head to one side. Luigi smiled.

“Hello, piccolo occhio,” the man whispered very, very quietly, “You’ve probably been-a wondering where all-a your siblings had-a gone, si?”

Larry nodded.

“Your brother,” Luigi nodded to Morton, whose face was still pressed against his chest, “has had a very-a hard day and your-a siblings and I are just-a keeping him company.”

Larry clicked and warbled a question back as quietly as he could, but then he remembered that the green Mario brother could not understand him. He turned to Luddy, but his big brother’s eyes had closed. It seemed the eldest was asleep again. Larry wouldn’t let that stop him, though. He put a hand to his plastron, then pointed to the pile of his siblings, and finally tilted his head in a question. Luigi grinned and nodded.

“Of-a course you can stay, Larry. Just don’t-a wake anyone, si?”

An affirmative trill, Larry very lightly and carefully crept his way around and over to curl up in the perfect little spot for himself between Roy and Wendy. It was nice and warm, and Roy’s arm automatically rose to shield him like a big safety blanket. He purred and purred until his eyelids drooped and he was out like a light. Luigi cooed sweetly, cherishing how adorable they all were. Sadly, the warm joy he felt was ruined prematurely.

“What? Not joining their little nap?”

Luigi’s mustached lip curled in disdain.

“Maybe I-a would if there wasn’t-a ghost in-a the room!” Luigi snarled, careful to keep his voice low.

“Aww, so eager to exclude me. That hurts my feelings.”

“Fuck off.”

Boo’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “You know why I like you, Luigi?”

“Can’t you shut up? You’re-a gonna wake them!”

“Oh, please. They’re dead to the world.” The human actually seemed to be growling at him. Boo sighed, exasperatedly, “It’s a figure of speech.”

“Would you please get lost?!” Luigi whisper-yelled. Morton shifted a little and the human’s mouth snapped shut. He held perfectly still. A gray claw curled against his shirt and Morton nuzzled close.

Boo had been prepared to antagonize the human for the fact that Luigi’d said ‘please’, but seeing Star scenting his mortal enemy was enough to make him grateful he no longer had a koopa’s sense of smell. He’d no desire to perceive the human’s stink all over the koopaling. To a ghost the things mortals were inclined to associate with smell or taste became muted. In other words, to him a hot meal ‘smelled’ and ‘tasted’ as though he were attempting to sniff or eat it whilst totally submerged in a pool of water. The sensations as he’d experienced in life were now unrecognizable. But he wasn’t without those senses by any stretch of the imagination. It was simply the types of things he could experience with those senses had changed. Fear was a good example. He could taste fear—and smell it, too, for that matter. He could also taste anger. Most emotions, really. It was annoying. Luigi’s sappy joy earlier when that little one had fallen asleep—blegh. Positively nauseating. Hmph. He’d been staring at Star lost in his thoughts and now Luigi’s shrewd eyes were sizing him up.

“What?” he hissed, defensively.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care!” he retorted far too quickly and with too much vehemence for it to be true. Worse, Luigi saw through it in a glance.

“Liar.”

Boo shut his mouth, crossed his stubby arms and pouted.

“You act more like a child than-a they do,” Luigi snarked.

“Oh, haha. Very funny.”

Morton shifted again and they both watched for a few seconds. Then Luigi was looking at him again. Boo was very quickly getting tired of the man trying to glean information by gawking, so he made a suggestion.

“You could sleep, you know. It’s not like I can do anything. Neutrality curse, remember?”

“You could still-a stare at me while I sleep. That’s-a enough.” Luigi shuddered.

Luigi’s fear smelled so much better than stupid happiness. Boo smiled, darkly.

“Wanna know why I first took interest in you, Luigi?” he asked, floating over, slightly pinching himself in the wall just to whisper into the shell of the human’s ear. “It’s because your fear is just so…” he took a deep breath to savor it, “delicious.”

Face tracking his movements, Luigi kept at least one eye on him at all times, even when he was lingering on the periphery.

“Screw you,” the green man said, eloquently.

“Oh, Luigi…” He grinned maniacally, “You’ll always be my favorite plaything.”

“I hate you.”

He really had to fight not to giggle madly. “Good.”

“It doesn’t have to-a be like this,” Luigi frowned. What—ew—what taste was that? Boo didn’t like it at all. Sorrow? Not exactly. Something much more…what was that? Insult? Condescension? No, but bothersome. It disgusted him. Pity. His eyes ignited with rage.

“Spare me your pity. You disgust me!”

“You care about him. If you could at least try to be civil—If you tell-a me why you’re doing all of-a this, maybe we could come to some kind of—”

“I’ll never stoop to allying myself with you.” Boo snarled, belligerently, “How weak do you think I am? I’d kill you if we weren’t cursed!”

“You tried twice and couldn’t-a finish the job. Now look at us. I’m someone Morton trusts. And you—”

How dare the creature condescend to him! Boo put a few feet of distance between them. Luigi…so infuriatingly stubborn it was annoyingly impressive. He’d no idea what had transpired between the green-clad plumber and Bowser after he’d been paralyzed. Kamek’s magic was very powerful. He might as well have been a statue or a paperweight ‘til the infernal old magikoopa had finally seen fit to free him. Gaps in one’s conscious timeline were fretful indeed. How much did Luigi know? How much had Bowser told?

“How much did you hear?”

Boo stared. His eyes’ glow intensified the more they narrowed. He’d been about to ask Luigi something very similar, but now the human had asked first, he wasn’t going to. He refused to ‘copy’ that little twerp.

“I’ve no idea what you mean,” he played dumb. It didn’t work, because this was Luigi. He hated how the idiot always managed to see through him.

“Yes-a you do. You came in when-a Morton was discussing his-a memories.”

“You sure love asking questions you already know the answer to,” Boo criticized. Then with rising anger in his voice, he whispered, cuttingly, “Why’d you let Star get that worked up in the first place?!”

“Oh, so you don’t-a want me near him, but letting him-a cry is my fault?”

“Making him cry is your fault!”

“The book they found is what-a made him cry.” Luigi whispered, petting Morton’s head almost absently, a faraway look glazing his eyes, “He’s confused and-a scared. He feels alone.” Then the gaze sharpened again and Luigi’s mustache twitched angrily. “He’s-a realizing that things have been-a hidden from him.”

Boo didn’t dare respond to that. He swerved the conversation.

“What book?”

Luigi’s eyes drifted to a book leaning against his side. Boo reached out a triangular arm for it. For a moment, the plumber thought the ghost was going to reach down and disturb the koopalings, but then the book rose in eerie purple light and floated over to the ghostly king. It was upside down. Boo turned it over, hissed like an ice cube dropped in boiling lava and threw it at the wall. Luigi’s muscles jumped.

Ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump…Green’s heart rang in his ears. Luigi gulped. There was murderous fury in the form of a purple aura surrounding King Boo.

Composure the ghost king had fought hard to maintain cracked, and even the sweet scent of Luigi’s fear failed to soothe.

“Idiots! Incompetent negligent, stupid fools! They never should’ve been allowed to find that! Bowser, you stupid—” he floated toward the door with half a mind to storm off and spit the words into the Koopa King’s dumb face, but his string of curses was interrupted by a flat whisper.

“You didn’t even open it.”

Shit. He spun around. Ohhh, how he ached to take his anger out on the pathetic little green bean! Stupid curse!

Meanwhile, Luigi was glad the sound of the book hitting the wall didn’t wake the bambini. Roy was softly snoring and Lemmy clicked in his sleep, but thankfully, no one had stirred more than that. It was very difficult not to shrink back as Boo phased, disappearing for a split second and reappearing looming over him. Purple eyes filled his vision, mere inches between them.

“I’m sure you already know exactly why that is,” the ghost king whispered, so low and cold that Luigi shivered. He was surprised when Luigi, quailing under his gaze, shook his head in the negative. The smile spreading across his face surprised him as much as it shocked the pitiful human. “Well, go on. Guess.”

“Why pretend not to care?”

Ugh. This again.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Boo tried to look anywhere but Luigi. Fortunately, or perhaps, unfortunately, the only other thing in this room deserving of his attention was…Star. His eyes traced every line of the koopaling’s face. Emotions he normally went out of his way to avoid curled uncomfortably inside. Luigi was watching. That wasn’t something he could forget about completely, and yet…this close…Star’s peaceful sleeping face and something cracked. Words rose, stingingly familiar, the very ones spoken to him over and over and over again in a past life. The very ones that haunted him still because, for all he’d fought, they were and always had been right. “Morton’s better off without me in his life.”

The air was thick enough to chop with an axe. Scents changed. Fear dispersed. A mild spice of curiosity took its place. Boo couldn’t have that. He bared his fangs in an aggressive display. But it was no use. Luigi’d peered beneath the veil. The plumber barely even recoiled, interpreting the attempt at intimidation for what it was.

“If that’s the case, why stay?” Luigi found he disliked the new atmosphere between them as much as Boo did. At least with the ghost king’s hostility he knew how to counter. They both needed this conversation to return to more familiar territory, so he threw in a barb: “Just to spite me?”

Boo froze, perceiving exactly what Luigi had just done. It took him all of half a second to sink his teeth around the proverbial olive branch. Not that he needed the plumber’s favors! He refused to be weak. Clearly, Luigi needs to be reminded how inconsequential he is! Boo was only too happy to oblige.

“Do you really think I’d still be here if there weren’t bigger cheep-cheeps to fry than you?!”

“I can help.”

“Star doesn’t need your help.” He snapped.

“Because he’s-a got yours?”

King Boo’s glare dared the man to so much as try arguing. Luigi was so brave sometimes that it wrapped all the way around back to ‘stupid.’ Boo suspected the man’s decision to shift position in the bed was deliberate because Luigi knew his eyes would linger as Star hummed and held tight. That assumption was validated when that nasally whisper hammered in the stake:

“He does need me.”

The ghost king’s eyes threatened to swallow him whole. That marshmallow so terribly looming, fangs so close to his face, chilling breath like wind whipping across icy tundra.

“I hate you.” Understanding, cold, hard, uncomfortable and stagnant was the final weight that splintered the koopa shell. “Sleep while you can,” Boo growled before whipping around, floating away and phasing though the wall.

It wasn’t pretense. The ghost king didn’t linger. The tingle in Luigi’s spine that sang when there were specters near faded to nothing. He still couldn’t trust Boo. All the times he was beaten, bloodied, mauled by Boo’s hands directly or by the King’s ghost minions, their entire past couldn’t just be erased. But he was now certain of one thing: Boo did care for Morton. Why?

There were still so many big unknowns. Luigi knew he shouldn’t sleep. He tried to keep his eyes open. Thoughts spun round and round his mind like a windmills. The koopalings were warm…Roy’s soft snores…Morton’s arms around him…Despite his best attempts to fight it: sleep pulled him under.

Chapter Text

You’re an embarrassment to the family!

BANG! The castle doors exploded outward as he passed out into the grounds.

Why can’t you be more like your brother?

Urrrrgh-rah! He summoned an enormous spike ball the size of himself and hucked it down the path. The gravel crunched beneath it as it rolled. Damn Luigi’s stupid obstinacy. Demanding answers. Stirring up the past.

You’re pathetic!

He shrieked, waved an arm and sent a volley of little ones flying down the garden path. The spear troopa guards barely pulled inside their shells in time to avoid being pelted.

Disgrace to the Iron branch!

One of the troopas’ heads popped out to check if it was safe, shaking worse than the ground during an eruption. It was an eruption of a kind, he supposed. He bared his fangs at the wimp and the troopa made a break for it, scooping up their fellow guard’s shell and racing for the ‘safety’ of the castle as quick as they could. Hmph. He called forth another spike ball and lobbed it across the rock garden. It bounced a few times on the uneven terrain before rolling into the lava pool with a hissing kind of splash he didn’t hear over the ghosts living in his own mind.

Bad enough you live your life so carelessly but dragging your own brother down into the depths with you? Introducing him to that girl! Encouraging them when you know will happen if they continue—or worse, when her family finds out…

Another spike ball sent racing down the gravel garden path crashed through the hedge. SMASH! Of course they blamed him. Of course they did. He was ‘the problem.’ The irresponsible one who couldn’t be trusted to hold a job, whose life was a ‘situation’ for them to manage. The wild parties, the rotating cast of lovers, the alcohol—the ocean’s worth of alcohol—all part of ‘the problem.’ Screw them.

We’ve put up with this behavior far long enough! We’re cutting you off! Get out of this house!

Only good thing they’d ever done for him. Not like—he closed his ghostly eyes, unable to escape the haunting memories.

“I’ll go, too. I can help!” Disgusting, how eager he’d been. Desperate to prove himself.

“No.” Father, grim and imposing, cold and soulless as the metal their family was named for.

“But I—”

“Morton will be better served if you stay on the sidelines. We don’t need you getting in the way of the festivities like last year.” The voices faded and he snarled as he floated over the bubbling lava pool. He couldn’t hover here for long. The heat warped the edges of his non-corporeal shape. It was the closest he could ever come to feeling pain.

Morton was always better off without you…always, hissed the cruel voice deep inside. I wonder what the king of the koopas would do if he knew your threats were as empty as his? Like you’d ever tell Star. He’d never let you close enough to set eyes on him again. He didn’t want that. He detested the thought. Of course you do, taunted his demons, he’s all that’s left of Morton. Because they were right, weren’t they?

It was all your fault.

“Are you seriously reading that old dust magnet again?” He exclaimed, having found Morton sprawled out on the floor snout buried in ‘A Rose for Fair Lady.’ “Little brother, how many nights are you going to spend holed up in here reading about romance before you ever go out and try finding some?” He took the book and had a looksee. Ah. Lady Hildegard was engaging in witty banter with the young prince who, because of his commoner’s clothes, she’d ‘mistaken’ for a garden lad.

Morton snatched it back, frowning. “If that’s all you’ve come to say…”

“Actually, brother mine, consider this an intervention! I’m going out tonight! And you’re coming with me!” he poked Morton in the plastron.

“But the curfew—”

“Oh sod the stinking curfew! Tonight’s the perfect night to live a little!”

“Mar, I’m really not sure that’s—”

POOF! They both jumped a little, but Morton flinched hardest, hands clutching at his plastron. The book thunked to the floor. He patted his brother’s back, reassuringly.

“Fret not, that’s just the transportation!” He teased, grinning devilishly.

The magikoopa in blue robes crossed their arms, decidedly unamused. “You’re late. His horribleness is most irked with you, Martin.”

“Oh, please, I’m sure Bowsey won’t mind me taking a few extra minutes persuading my little brother to join the party.”

All eyes were on Morton now. His younger brother hesitated.

“What kind of party?”

“Morton…” he sighed, deflating a little. “Nothing crazy.”

Another doubtful look from his brother.

“I mean it.”

Skepticism lingered.

“Fifty or so nobles and their friends, a few drinks and some dancing, that’s all.”

Morton looked at Kamek. The magikoopa was ever honest.

“More like a few hundred nobles and their friends.”

He flung up his hands the second Morton leveled him with that sharp disapproving glare worthy of Dad.

“C’mon, little brother, please, you spend all day helping dad with the stuffy old manor. I know you want out as bad as I do.” He bent down, scooped the book off the floor and dusted it off before offering it back to Morton, “Am I wrong?”

“No.” Morton slowly took it. “But it’s really hard for me. I’m—I’m just not good at t-talking to people like you are.”

“Sure, you are,” He smiled, throwing an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “When it’s the right person.”

Morton blushed a little, pressing both index fingers together awkwardly, still feeling nervous. There was nearly as much excitement in the younger koopa as there was hesitation.

“Mar…are you really sure…”

“Of course I am, Mormor. Do you trust me?”

Morton nodded.

The party was loud and very quickly became overwhelming. After bumping into one of the buffet tables, thankfully without breaking or spilling anything, Morton had panicked and rushed forward—nearly knocking several other koopas off their feet. With mouth movements he could only assume were frantic apologies, he watched his little brother barreling clear of the dance floor out the doors to the garden. He started off in pursuit. It took him a few minutes because he had to greet a few esteemed fellow nobles and friends. He walked out the regal doors onto the fine patio and froze when he heard the very unexpected sound of his brother’s voice.

“A-actually I—I like to read.”

A decidedly unfamiliar giggle hit the warm summer night air. He smiled. See Morton? He thought. Told you you’d be fine.

“You say that like you’re admitting to a crime!” she giggled some more and said, “I like romance novels. Read many of those?”

Out of curiosity he carefully tip-toed, trying to spy on them. The position was pretty bad. He was sort of staring though a bush. He could see Morton’s face, but couldn’t see her much at all. And, oh, boy…Morton was turning red. Deep breaths, little brother, deep breaths!

“A-all the time.” Morton confessed softly, still blushing. “B-before my brother dragged me here I was reading ‘A Rose for Fair Lady.’”

“I love that one. I’ve read it dozens of times.” She said, softly. He thought he could hear a smile in her voice, but he couldn’t see her through the leaves, so he’d no way of knowing for sure.

“I’m Morton.” His little brother offered her his hand.

“Astrid,” she placed her hand in Morton’s and Morton bowed, kissing it.

“I—um…I hope you don’t mind me asking, but—I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. I haven’t seen you at any of my cousin’s other—”

“Cousin?” she asked, quietly.

“U-um, Bowser. Er—King Bowser.”

“Oh. I, uh, I don’t get out much.”

“Hehe, neither do I,” Morton blushed again. Things lapsed into awkward silence. He sighed and took that as his cue, loudly pushing through the bushes so they’d hear him coming.

“Morton! There you are! When I saw you weren’t inside, I—” Never met anyone like her indeed. With good reason. “We, uh, excuse us, miss, the king is looking for us!”

It was a shitty excuse and he knew it. He could see her face flickering with emotions, but he’d no idea what kind and wasn’t about to wait here to find out. He dragged Morton back over to the patio, far enough from the ballroom doors they wouldn’t be overheard. She was well out of earshot. Seemed like she’d made no effort to move from her spot in the garden. He pushed his sibling close to the ballroom wall to be out of direct line of sight. His brother was frowning at him.

“Mar, what’d you do that for? That was rude!”

“Are you crazy?!” he tugged the few black hairs on the top of his head anxiously, “I leave you alone for five minutes and you start chatting up a Malachite?!”

Morton crossed his arms. “So? She was nice.”

“Morton! You know we’re not supposed to—”

“We’re not supposed to be here either, but you dragged me along! Who I talk to is my business!”

“Mor, I’m just—”

“You don’t even know her!”

“Neither do you,” he pointed out, growling in spite of himself.

“Marmar,” oh, no. Morton was whipping out the nicknames…No, no, no, no, no! Morton was not going to ask him to—No! Morton! “Please, Marmar. I wanna talk to her some more. Just a little longer?”

“Morton…that’s a very bad idea.”

“I like her! She’s a nice person!”

“Morton, Bowser will miss you at the party, you know he’s gonna go looking for you eventually—” Oh, no. He was screwed. “Morton, don’t look at me like that! Morton, please don’t ask me to—”

“Please?”

Dammit. “Fine! Don’t say I never did anything for you!”

“Best brother ever.”

Well, hell, if that didn’t make it all worthwhile…only one problem.

“Mom and Dad are gonna kill me.”

“No one has to know.”

“I’ll know.”

Bowser and he had been contemplating a search when Morton finally showed up again later. They saw him from afar, since they’d been talking on the upper landing. Morton was stumbling, rocking from one leg to the other across the now much more vacant ballroom. Over half the guests had gone home. It was the very early hours of the morning.

“Is he…drunk?” Bowser asked, stunned. Morton wasn’t the drinking type at all.

Frowning, he led the way down the stairs to intercept. Oh, he was so screwed. Morton wasn’t drunk. Morton was humming and doing a kind of silly little dance, with a goofily happy smile.

“What happened to you?” Bowser asked, red eyebrows furrowed, perplexed by Morton’s strange behavior.

“Nothing.”

The young king crossed his arms. “Uh-huh. That’s the most loaded ‘nothing’ I’ve ever heard in my life.” Morton was fiddling with something, “Whatcha got there?”

“Pendant.” Morton held it up. It was a very pretty copper chain that bore a single, spherical piece of polished malachite.

“Pick it up outside?” Bowser asked.

“She gave it to me,” Morton smiled even goofier. “She thinks I’m cute.”

“I am dead.” He declared, “Father is going to kill me.”

Bowser’s face had lit up. “She, huh?” he smirked. “You’re smitten.”

“Huh?” Morton asked, dreamily, having slipped into daydreams whilst staring at the pendant again. Bowser sidled up so they were shoulder to shoulder.

“So, what’s she like?”

“She’s so sweet. She doesn’t mind when I stammer.”

“She better not,” the king murmured. Morton went on like nothing had happened.

“She likes reading romance novels. She likes ‘A Rose for Fair Lady,’ which is my favorite, and she’s read it a bunch of times, but really her favorite is ‘Sunrise through the Ashes.’ I haven’t read that one yet. I’m going to see if we have it in the library when I get home. The people and noise was a lot for her, too. She wasn’t even going to come tonight, but her cousin convinced her. Kinda like Mar did with me. I’m glad. We walked in the garden and talked for ages…”

“Lemme guess,” he said, sarcastically, “About how much you love metal-wielding.”

“Yeah…” Morton said, sighing dreamily, “I showed her my metal scale technique! She was pretty impressed! Then she blows me out of the water sayin’ she can manipulate the oxidation states of the things she summons. She proved it, too! She’s so cool!”

“Is she pretty?” Bowser asked, grinning.

Morton’s fingers nervously fiddled, face blushing harder with every passing second. Bowser scoffed.

“That’s a yes, then.”

“She’s so beautiful…Her eyes are green, and her hair is this pretty brownish-red, almost coppery like her scales, only darker.”

Bowser’s face stiffened. “Copper?” The king looked at Mar, questioningly and he slowly nodded. Together they turned to the younger ferric koopa, “Morton…”

“Not you, too.” The dreamy reverie fell flat. Morton’s dark eyes glared at them each in turn.

“But it’s dangerous—”

“Oh, please! Hasn’t it been long enough for this family to get past this?!”

“Morton…” Bowser tried.

“No! It’s been centuries! I like her. She’s nice and I’m going to find a way to see her again!”

“Whether this family is past it or not isn’t the problem,” he found himself saying, pulling his shoulders back to make himself his full height as he confronted his younger sibling, “It’s not the Hematite branch I’m worried about! You know what happened the last time we offered peace!”

“Well, maybe it’s well past time we try again!”

He and Bowser exchanged very nervous glances, but it was extremely clear that Morton’s heart was set. Dark grey fists were curling at the younger iron brother’s sides.

“Can I count on your help or not?”

Dammit. Morton was the only one in their family who ever stood up for him, the only one who ever gave him a chance, who held him up instead of struck him down—if there was anyone in the whole world he’d do anything for—

“Of course you can,” he said, holding out his hand. Morton took it. They turned to Bowser. The young king sighed.

“You’re both crazy…but, if you need me, I’ll be there.” Bowser added a golden hand over their gray.

A voice of the present cut through the pictures of the past: “U-u-um…” it was a pathetic little koopa guard. “K-King Boo? I-Is everything—” THUD! A spike ball appeared behind the koopa and knocked them into lava. “AAAH!” They crawled out as a dry bones and Boo floated away from the lava pool. Just as well they’d intervened. Parts of him were phasing between visibility and invisibility outside his control from lingering too long.

“Kamek.”

Poof! The magikoopa materialized on the corner of Bowser’s desk, no broom in hand this time. Kamek waited. A minute passed. Then another. Glasses flashed.

“You did call?”

“Hm? Oh, yes.” He tore his eyes away from the papers in his hand. It was high time he called it a day, but he wanted to make sure he didn’t overlook anything in these trade proposals and—No. He told himself, putting them down and turning them over for good measure. No more working. He stood up and stretched. Yikes. He’d been sitting too long. His neck was stiff. Rubbing it with one hand, he asked tiredly, “How’re the kids?”

“Actually,” Kamek reflected, “They’ve all been rather quiet. Junior was painting in the art room today. I tried to get him to take a break, but apparently this ‘splatter’ technique was simply too engaging…and I had no desire to have my robes flecked with chartreuse.”

“Ha,” Bowser snorted, smiling wearily. “And the rest?”

“Regrettably, I’m afraid I haven’t seen them much all since we parted earlier.” Seeing the anxiousness creeping into his son’s face, Kamek raised his wand and gave it a little twirl. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Bowser asked, leaning forward.

Kamek hobbled forward and swatted the giant koopa on the wrist.

“You worry too much! They’re perfectly safe. It would seem they’re in Ludwig’s room.”

Bowser’s head drew back a little, stunned. His tail flicked.

“All of them?” he rumbled, just to confirm. Kamek nodded. It’s not like situations like this were unheard of…just, the older they got, the less likely they were to spend time all in one place. His curiosity was piqued. He cast an expectant look at his dad. “Well, let’s go, then.”

“As you command, your Dadness!”

POOF! They materialized side by side just outside the door to Luddy’s room. The king raised a giant claw to knock, but then, decided against it and tried the door. It didn’t budge. He frowned. Kamek hobbled forward and tested them with magic.

“Ah. Lock and sound barrier.”

“Sound barrier?” Bowser’s eyes narrowed. Why would they need a sound barrier? They wouldn’t, of course, unless they were up to something. Hmmm.

“Shall I?” Kamek asked, and when Bowser nodded, the magikoopa flicked the wand and felt the spells fall away. “After you, sire.”

Bowser opened the door. It was very quiet in here and—A purr started up from very, very deep in his chest when he saw his little ones piled and tangled up on Luddy’s bed. He took a few steps toward them. Then a few more. His nose twitched. His limbs froze.

Kamek used his wand a little bit like a cane as he followed his son into the room, closing the doors carefully and quietly behind them with a tiny tap on the floor. He could hear sleeping breaths and even a few soft snores, and he didn’t want to wake the dears. He heard Bowser’s purr start to rumble through the room and smiled, feeling warmth bloom across his chest. His sweet, loving boy. Bowser loved the little ones so much. They all did. He’d probably want to— The purr stopped dead. Kamek glanced over at Bowser’s face. His son was very still and unblinking.

“Bowser?” he whispered. Bowser didn’t answer him. Another purr, four times as loud, erupted from the giant dragon koopa so suddenly the poor magikoopa nearly jumped out of his scales. Kamek hastened to cross to the foot of the bed and hop up to see what had made his son react like—oh…Oh

His son was purring like a kart engine. Kamek looked from the king, to the subject of Bowser’s now laser-focused attention trapped at the center of the koopaling pile. What did this mean, exactly? Could just be instincts. Bowser had been a widower for many years and the koopalings hadn’t had anyone in their lives besides their father that they trusted like this. His son might just be glad someone was willing to do something like this for them… But…Kamek hadn’t told Bowser about the letters, or their visits with the human, or mentioned the koopalings’ relationship with the green Mario brother at all. Yet, Bowser didn’t seem too bothered. Was it possible the king already knew?

He'd thought the interaction in Bowser’s office earlier most forward and unusual. Bowser had—without real necessity—repeatedly touched the human, but then, that wasn’t the first time Bowser had acted…different…in Luigi’s presence, was it? Kamek thought, his eyes narrowing behind his spectacles.

At the council meeting, Bowser’s eyes had drifted constantly to the green-skirted human. Then there was that little spike of tension when the Mario brothers had gotten into some kind of argument across the table and Bowser’d stood up from his seat. And after the meeting, they’d had private words on the balcony…

What was this? Kamek’s claws tapped the stem of his wand nervously. A mere intrigue? A friendship? Or…something more? A dalliance? He stared from his son to the human and back. No, Bowser would have told him! Bowser tells him everything! And if they were already…interested…in each other that way, surely, there’d have been no need for all the subterfuge regarding the koopalings’ communications with the green Mario brother! But—

Bowser took a few more steps forward, purring all the while, loudly enough to vibrate through the floor. The human stirred. Luigi’s hands lovingly petted Morton’s head as blue eyes slowly blinked open. It took a few seconds for the creature to realize what had woken him, namely Bowser’s purr shaking them with its intensity. The moment Luigi did, the man startled, only settling back down when Morton protested, sleepily.

“Weegee stay…”

Luigi did stay, but Kamek could tell that every muscle in the poor human’s body was now completely on edge as blue eyes stared mortified into the koopa king’s.

“M-Mi dispiace!” Green whispered. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but—”

“S’alright,” the purr extended even to Bowser’s voice, which was lower and more gravely that usual. “They’re adorable, aren’t they?”

“Si!” Luigi agreed, instantly, “The cutest little-a bundle of scales in-a the world!”

Bowser’s purr intensified for a second, then went back to just bone-shaking.

Kamek watched color blooming across the human’s cheeks. He doubted either realized he was watching, but by now he’d seen all he needed to see. Bowser was completely enamored. His poor son just didn’t know that yet. He sighed, wearily, and hopped off the bed back onto the floor. What’s more, he suspected they’d a long, long way to go before they were ready to acknowledge that. And when—if—Bowser ever did, it certainly wasn’t going to be easy for them. Loss had left its handprint on his son’s heart. Kamek sincerely hoped Luigi would be gentle. He couldn’t bear to see his son in the throes of a second heartbreak.

Chapter Text

Luigi held perfectly still. Working from the outside in, Bowser’s hulking figure moved carefully and quietly around the bed. Starting with the ones furthest from the center, he began to wake each koopaling. First was Roy. Bowser’s snout nuzzled the side of the sun-glasses wearing one’s face. Roy’s eyes blearily blinked open.

“Dad?”

Purr. “Hey, bud. ‘S almost dinner time.”

Roy frowned, looked over at Morton and instead of getting up, settled back in.

“Not leavin.’ Morty needs me.” Then the koopaling’s eyes found Luigi and tensed. He rumbled at his father, as though expecting an argument, “And Green stays with us.”

“Roy…you have to eat. Can come back after. C’mon. Up.” Bowser’s tone took on a stern edge and he moved on to Wendy. He gently brushed his jaw against the top of her head. “Wendy...Wendy…”

“Hmm?”

“Dinnertime, my little princess. Wake up.”

“Mmmmmm…”

Just for that, he nuzzled her again. Her little claws were so tiny compared to his giant face. They tried to push him away.

“Da~ad…Nuh…Not cool. M’ not a baby…”

“Up and at ‘em, kiddo. Don’t get to skip dinner.”

She huffed but sat up. Bowser turned to little Larry. Luigi jumped a little when the giant suddenly let out a chorus of deep clicks and warbles. Oh…He really shouldn’t have been surprised, because of course the king spoke the Koopa language, but unlike the kids, the big guy had never used it around him before. If Luigi were completely honest, this entire situation was more than a little eye-opening. He’d realized how much Bowser loved the little ones, but this was his first time seeing the king’s parenting first-hand in a casual setting. Bowser didn’t get a verbal response. Larry just curled in a tighter ball.

“Larry,” the king rumbled.

Click, click, chirp.

“No, you don’t get five more minutes.”

Chirp! One of Larry’s arms reached up, took the king by the horn and tugged.

“Nope. Can’t. I’m too big. We don’t want to break Luddy’s bed.”

Larry’s answering warble sounded disappointed.

“I know. Tonight I’ll read you a bedtime story in my nest, okay?”

Larry accepted with an excited little wag of his tail as he uncurled and stretched. Next was Lemmy. Luigi expected Bowser to lean over and nudge the rainbow-haired koopaling the same way he had the others, but to his surprise, the king carefully reached out and tickled both the twins’ sides.

“Heh,” Lemmy said, batting the giant claw away.

“Lem…not funny.” Iggy grumbled, poking the smaller koopaling.

“Huh?” Lemmy’s eyes opened. He pouted and poked Iggy back, a little rougher than necessary. “Wasn’t me, you jerk!”

Larry, meanwhile, crawled over to Luigi’s side and trilled, cuddling sweetly against the human’s arm. Bowser’s red eyes briefly left the twins to flick over their direction. It was extremely hard not to feel like that lava hot gaze wasn’t burning holes in him. Luigi tried to focus on Larry, smiling and raising his arm so the little one could sit against his side. Larry’s purr was adorably higher than almost inaudibly low vibrations of the others. The twins were still bickering softly, pushing and gently shoving at each other.

Bowser clicked sharply. “Knock it off, the pair of ya.”

They huffed and Lemmy mentioned something about the fight just getting good, but they obeyed. Bowser turned to the last of the koopalings on the outside of the pile. A strange expression came over his face.

Luigi sat up a little and looked over, interested to see what had put that look there. His eyebrows relaxed and his mouth slackened.

Ludwig was sleeping on his right side, back of his shell pressed to Luigi and Morton. Left side up…Of course. Ludwig’s deaf in that ear, Luigi recalled. The eldest probably hadn’t heard anything that had happened in the past few minutes. Though, he had to have felt the vibrations of Bowser’s purr, but that hadn’t awakened the others, so it probably wouldn’t have woken him anyway. Dark blue hair was parted in an unusual way due to gravity, exposing the side of his head.

Luigi inhaled sharply. A nasty scar that looked like a welded crack zig-zagged over where Luigi assumed the ear was located—like turtles, koopas did not have external ears. No wonder the teenager didn’t have much hearing at all on that side…What—what had happened? Ludwig hadn’t mentioned…Luigi’s shrewd blue eyes honed in on the king’s face again. Was that—no, he must have imagined it…no. He hadn’t. It was definitely there. His heart dropped. Guilt? Why was there guilt in—Bowser’s gaze briefly lifted, looking past Ludwig to Morton, with the same nervous, regretful expression. Luigi’s arm over the gray spiked shell hugged tighter. The king caught sight of it. Their eyes met. He stared sharply, with a single thought in mind: What are you hiding? Bowser’s lips curled, the very first show of hostility toward him since the king had entered the room and in that second Luigi knew his question had gotten across. Because that glare and flick of a spiked tail was his answer: I won’t tell you.

Tenderly, huge golden claws bundled Ludwig’s body up into powerful arms, tugging the eldest koopaling close to his vibrating chest as he purred, warmly. Ludwig hummed, automatically curling into the embrace. Bowser’s chin ruffled blue hair.

“Luddy,” he cooed. Before he could really wake the teen, however, Kamek’s voice called out.

“Bowser.”

He turned. The anxious edge in Kamek’s tone had his hair standing on end. His dad was by the far wall, picking something up off the floor. A book? What was the problem with—Kamek hobbled over and turned it around so he could see the cover. A growl rose up from deep inside him.

Ludwig’s eyes snapped open, the eldest sitting forward in alarm, rapidly glancing around to try and figure out where he was and what was going—He saw the book. He saw Dad’s face. Steam billowed out the koopa king’s nostrils.

“Ludwig, where did you get this?”

The reply came from behind, on the bed. Bowser set the eldest down and turned, eyes narrowed.

“The library. I remembered the introduction saying something about the two metal houses combining.”

“And you—you showed it to your brother?” the growl started up again, louder this time.

Lemmy reached over to hold Iggy’s hand supportively when the inventor flinched. With his twin backing him up, he leant forward.

“It’s his family’s history. He deserved to know.”

Growl redoubling, it finally stirred the last of the snoozing koopalings. Luigi and Roy were the only ones who saw Morton’s eyes open. The gray koopaling blinked sleepily at the sound of his Dad’s growl and started to sit up, but Ludwig’s voice cut like a knife over the grim rumble and Morton froze.

“You’ve been acting strange since Morton discovered his copper wielding. Did you really think we wouldn’t notice?”

Luigi felt Boo’s presence before the ghost king actually materialized. Most of the koopalings made surprised or nervous noises and crowded into a pack on the bed. Bowser turned to face him with a disapproving frown, but Boo just rolled his eyes. He glanced past the Koopa king at the defiant little blue-haired koopa teen. The only one who hadn’t so much as flinched at his arrival.

“Heh. Look at you,” the specter scoffed, nudging Bowser’s arm as he nodded toward the eldest, “So haughty and self-righteous…unshakably confident you know what’s best…just like your mother. A real ‘fuck-you’ to the old von Koopa family legacy!”

“Boo, that’s enough.” Bowser snapped.

Boo wasn’t done. He advanced. Ludwig glared furiously back, refusing to be intimidated.

“My mother may not have been a noble, but she was a good person. She helped people.”

“Yes, she did. A common blood nobler in character than any aristocrat,” Boo scoffed, darkly. Then the ghost king’s mood sobered. “Too kind-hearted for her own good. That’s what killed her in the end…” under his non-breath he added, “love kills us all in the end.”

Ludwig didn’t hear that last part. He stood there, fingers twitching, eyes wide, head askance, his gaze disbelieving…

“Enough!” Bowser snarled, snapping at Boo’s form, teeth going right through the chilly marshmallow. “Get out!”

“No.” The eldest koopaling shoved past his father to stare up at the spectral king. “What do you mean k-killed her?” Luddy was shaking. His fingers traced his scar. “It—It was an accident—”

Boo’s purple stare went over the blue-haired head to stare at Bowser. The kids didn’t know what that look meant, but Luigi did. Enough. He leaned forward and started to get up, but Morton refused to dislodge from him. In the end, he scooped the koopaling up in his arms and stood, crossing toward them. Ludwig was a smart kid. The teenager saw in that one look all he needed to know: Dad was holding something back. Dad…Bowser had lied to him?

“You didn’t tell him?”

“I said get out.”

“You really thought he’d never figure it out? He’s Johann’s son!”

“Shut up! I’m warning you, Martin—”

“I don’t answer to that name anymore,” The ghost king hissed, icily.

“Mar-tin—” Morton murmured. Luigi was the only one near enough to hear the airy call. The gray koopaling’s eyes were huge and glimmering with faint recognition. Something had just clicked…a deep memory had been unlocked. Desperately, Morton tugged the human’s shirt and whispered, “Un—cle…Uncle Martin…Weegee…Martin Morton’s uncle…”

“I’ve got you, piccolo.” Luigi hugged him tight.

“Morton no understand…W-want to understand…”

Meanwhile, Boo turned back to Ludwig, “The von Koopa line and the Hematite have always been close. All the way back since that book was written.” He gestured to the copy of Blood Metal still in Kamek’s claws. “Your father was no different.”

“No! Kamek, get him out of here!” Bowser bellowed.

“No,” Morton whispered, brokenly. “Want to know…Weegee, help!”

“Hold on tight, piccolo stella.”

Luigi saw what Bowser somehow couldn’t bring himself to. Ludwig needed to know, same as Morton. Bowser attempting to put a stop to it was only going to make things a million times worse. The wounds would never heal until they were completely cleaned—even if it stung. The kids deserved the truth and Bowser was too emotionally compromised to let them have that. They needed the truth and, much as Luigi loathed to admit: Boo had it.

In that split second…he saw Kamek’s wand rising, perceived the blue aura surrounding the ghost king, felt Ludwig’s furious desperation and Morton’s soft call of his name—and just like that day in the throne room, he didn’t think. He just jumped. He shifted his grip on Morton enough to free his right hand as he sprang forward quicker than a flash of lightning. His fingers curled securely around Ludwig’s shell. They made eye contact and Ludwig’s fury melted into gratitude as they jumped together into the spinning blue teleportation spell surrounding the ghost king and all disappeared with a POP!

They nearly re-materialized in a kind of pile. Luigi had to act fast and fling himself to one side to avoid coming full-contact with Boo. He’d do no one any good if they ended up paralyzed. He cast Ludwig a bit roughly to one side and shielded Morton with his body as they hit a wall. He grunted in pain. Boo cackled, loving every second of his distress.

“Why, Luigi! How sweet of you to beat yourself up for me. Do it a few more times, will you? I like my meat nice and tenderized.”

“Creep.” Luigi’s nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Yet you’re the one who followed me,” Boo pointed out, smirking. Then he noticed the gray koopaling in Luigi’s arms and all trace of a smile melted away.

Luigi set Morton down. It was all he could do to hold on long enough to be sure the koopaling was unharmed from that rough landing. Morton went straight up to Boo.

“Dad called you Martin…Are…are you—”

“No.”

The plumber frowned. Too quick. Too emphatic…too emotionally charged. Lie. He crossed his arms and glared at the specter. Boo caught the look and glared right back, then sighed when faced with Morton and deflated a little.

“Not anymore.”

“What…what happened?”

Boo lapsed into silence. Morton let it drop for now. He returned to Luigi’s side. The king grimaced at the sight.

Ludwig was looking around. This was a dark part of the castle he hadn’t seen before…there was only torchlight and the room was full of furniture covered with sheets, paintings, tapestries, even a couple statues. Wait a second…on one wall was a very familiar family tree…the hematite branch.

“Where are we?”

Boo’s eyes glowed eerily in the dim as he glanced around and sighed.

“Trust the old crow to send me here,” he sighed. “My old digs. Bowsie converted it to a kind of storage for all things ferric branch related after…” he didn’t like the way the truth tasted. Never could stand bitter, “…once I had no further use for it.”

“You lived…here?” Morton asked, softly.

“Star—”

“What happened to my parents?” Ludwig’s fists were clenching furiously. When the giant marshmallow was silent too long, the koopa teen had the audacity to draw his wand. Boo scoffed. Luddy glared. “Tell me. Now.”

“Or, what?” Boo smiled, wickedly, floating toward the eldest tauntingly. “Your magic can’t hurt me.”

Luigi stepped between them. “Ludwig…”

Pew! A shot of bright sparkling light burst from the end of the koopaling’s wand and sped right over Luigi’s shoulder. It struck Boo in the arm and the ghost king hissed.

Boo stared at the smoldering mark on his triangular arm, thrilled by the stinging sensation that thrummed through his undead existence. Cackling madly, he bobbed up and down.

“Hmph! Powerful spellcaster…Not that I’m surprised. Like Father, like son.” He phased forward menacingly, dwarfing the koopaling with his immense size and proximity.

“You said my mother’s kindness got her killed.”

The ghost king rolled listlessly upside-down. His air was mock-bored.

“I’m tired. Besides, it’s not as if we have time. Really, Luigi, even you must have realized their father and Kamek won’t let this slide?”

Mustache twitching, Luigi frowned.

“Isn’t there a way we can temporarily block them out?”

“Hahaha! How deliciously rebellious of you! I could cast a little hex over the room, but even my magic won’t keep Kamek stunted for long…on its own.” Purple eyes found Luddy’s with heavy implication. Ludwig’s wariness was mildly amusing, but his patience only extended so far. He rolled right-side-up again and held out an arm. “Take it or don’t. No flakes off my shell.”

Ooh, he licked his lips at the intense discomfort coming off the squirming plumber in waves. Ludwig’s wand hand crossed over his arm. Boo felt a rush of magic so concentrated it flooded his form. For several achingly long burning moments the power tempted him. He felt indestructible. He laughed, spinning purple flames on his free hand, their light dancing in the darkness. So much strength…He could shatter the infernal curse keeping him from laying his hands on his most hated foe! He could take this entire castle! He could finally kill the plumber who’d become such a thorn in his side! He turned towards the green bean…

The flames died. Undead as he was–he wasn’t the only ghost in the room. Staring out through the gloom: two small, living, breathing ghosts stared back. He raised his triangular arm and with a whirr a purple, shimmering barrier enveloped the walls. With a simple wave, Ludwig was tossed a few feet away.

“Luddy!” Morton called, voice tight and scared. Boo watched Star checking the blue-haired koopaling over frantically as he stumbled.

Luigi rushed to shield them with his back to the young koopas. Those shrewd eyes never left the ghost king. Lightning danced across his fingers. The man was a coil ready to spring. He spoke to the kids without looking at them.

“Ludwig, are you alright?”

“He’s fine, just drained,” Boo said, rolling his eyes.

“I asked him, not you!”

“Heh,” Boo just grinned. See? He thought. Can’t enjoy getting a rise out of him if he’s dead, now can we?

“What spell was that?” Ludwig asked, unsteadily, letting Morton help keep him propped up.

Boo glanced the koopalings’ direction and immediately regretted it. Johann knelt with Morton at his shoulder, eyes threatening to oxidize what little remained of the ghost king’s undead soul. He screwed his eyes shut and turned his back to them. Luigi’s acidic anger rippled and shifted into something softer that upset his stomach. Grrr. Why was the damn creature so perceptive?

“I asked–”

“I’ll teach you sometime. The four of us used it to avoid your gramps when we were your age.”

“Four?” Star asked.

Sigh. “Called ourselves the four fighters. Some called us the kingdom’s future. Ha. Really, we were just four friends. Johann,” he heard the teen’s breath hitch, “Bowser,” Luigi’s weight shifted, “Morton,” Star startled a little before realizing who was meant, “...and me.”

“Martin,” Morton said, softly. Curious, he stomped over to the tapestry, finding his father with a finger. He looked around for another portrait, frowning and clicking with annoyance seeing only blank space. A hollow laugh left the ghost.

Boo phased over and used a spectral limb to rub away a strange patch on the surface, revealing a burnt-out hole where a portrait had once been. Star’s confused and anxious face turned up toward him. He drank it in and smiled, glumly.

“That one was me. The striped chomp of the family.”

“Who burned your picture off?” Morton asked, fists curling. Such a sweet sympathetic display of anger on his behalf…so much like…

“Our parents never liked me much.” he waved at their portraits above his mutilated one, then in a whisper as he glared into that stern, unyielding face, “Father, especially.”

“Why not?”

“I was always the opposite of what he wanted.” at the kid’s visible confusion and the growing stench of Luigi’s sympathy, he spun away. Setting his eyes back on the blue-haired one reminded him why they were here with him. He raised an arm. Purple magic glowed around it. Some things shifted in one of the far piles in the corner, kicking up a bit of dust. An object floated into his hand. It, too, was covered in a thick layer of dust. He deliberately blew it the plumber’s direction. Luigi coughed and sneezed all whilst shooting him a heated glare. He snickered, then with a serious face, offered the thing to the blue-haired koopaling. When Luddy reached out, though, he pulled it back.

“Ludwig, right?”

“Yes,” the eldest koopaling nodded.

“He mentions you a few times.”

“He–you…you mean my dad wrote–”

“It’s his journal. One of them, anyway. He’d send them to us when we were…” Purple eyes lingered on Morton a moment. “...when Morton and I were on the run.”

The words sank into the silence like a boulder in fresh mud.

“They’re mostly research, tips, things he thought might help us, but…they were his, so, they’re yours now. If you want.”

“I–” This time when Ludwig reached out, he let the kid take it off his hands. Ludwig hugged it to his plastron. “Thank you.” After a long pause, he murmured, “You don’t think it was an accident.”

“No. I don’t. Hildegarde, she…” Boo heaved a long, drawn-out sigh, “She helped them. When news of their marriage reached the Malachite branch and threatening words turned to actions…She used all her skills and contacts to help them disappear.”

“You mean Morton’s dad, Morton Senior, and his mom?”

“Astrid. Her name was Astrid.” Boo chanced a look at Star. The koopaling’s wide eyes were on his mother’s portrait, one claw tracing it.

He turned back around and found tears in the teen’s eyes. Frame wracked with emotion and breathing shakily, it was clear that Ludwig had already slid together the pieces of the bigger picture. Sharp as a sword this kid.

“You’re—” Ludwig sniffled. Morton trilled and rushed to his big brother’s side, holding on tight, but clearly completely confused. Luddy’s speech was rough and scratchy, “You think whoever was after Morton’s parents…You think they…b-but why would the Malachite—my parents weren’t—”

“Your mother wasn’t noble blood.” Boo snarled and hissed, “To a family like that, completely set in the old ways, that was just as unforgiveable as helping Morton and Astrid escape.”

“B-But how would they have known? She was famous for not leaving a trace of her own involvement! They couldn’t have been sure it was her! You really think they did it anyway just to—”

“No. I think they knew. I think…someone she trusted sold her out.” Boo was vibrating with rage. He could just make out a soupçon of Luigi’s own righteous fury. For the very first time they were on the same wavelength with the same target. He didn’t like that very much. Left a funny taste in his mouth. A broken sob brought all eyes converging on a devastated gray koopaling.

“Morton—” sob, “Morton’s copper family—” hiccup, “k-killed Luddy’s parents?!” He collapsed in a heap and curled into as tight a little ball as he could manage. “Luddy…Morton—Morton so sorry!”

“No!” In the blink of an eye, Ludwig was down on the ground with shaking the younger by the shoulders. “NO! Don’t you ever apologize! Don’t you ever apologize for them!!!” He pressed Morton tight and safe against him, as though he were afraid that if he let go the other might poof away into dust. “Hey, hey, look at me! They’re not you! It’s not your fault! I’ll never, ever blame you for any of it.”

“Luddy should hate me.”

“No. Never. You’re my little brother. I love you and I’m here for you. Always.”

Boo felt hollower than ever…

“You don’t have to apologize,” Johann’s voice was calm and soothing, wand barely even flicking as the cut on his forehead healed up. “I couldn’t just let you jump in without backup, now, could I?”

Sometimes he worried his cousins would tire of constantly having to be there to pull him back up again when he fell…

“Hey,” Johann’s claws gently tilted his head up, “We’re here for you. Or—I guess since it was just me this time, I’m here for you.” At his astonished look Johann’s head shook and those dark eyes rolled, teasing. “Honestly, you think you’d know by now. I’ll be there for you, Mar. Always. ‘Cuz I know you’d do the same for me.” Johann’s smiling face faded. Purple-streaked black hair melted to deep blue.

Image of his father… Boo was used to being surrounded by death, but not like this. Not by the smothering presence of life reminding him painfully of what was lost…

“Please…”

The little whimper shook him free of the past. His eyes found the white face, so like his brother’s. Tears…He dipped down and reached out, froze them with a single touch and brushed them away.

“I want to know everything.”

Boo’s eyes widened. He drew back a little.

“Please,” Morton begged, “Need to know the whole story. Please…uncle…please?”

“I don’t—” much as he was loathe to say it in front of his mortal enemy, he confessed, “Star…I don’t want to hurt you.” To his shock, the koopaling reached up and touched his arm.

Smiling through the shiver, Morton said, “I’ll be okay…Got Luddy and Weegee.”

The undead king still hesitated.

“Please tell story?”

“Fine.”

Luigi snickered. “Softie.”

“WHY YOU LITTLE TWERP! I’LL—”

The koopalings just turned their heads back and forth as they watched the ghost king chase the plumber one way, then the other across the room. They didn’t intervene. Somehow, they just knew the pair had needed to get all the hostile energy out. They didn’t really understand it, but it was clear that Boo wasn’t actually trying to cause harm—even if he was throwing a bunch of things at the yelping green bean. When the ‘fighting’ was done, Luigi went to sit with the koopalings. Morton cuddled up across the human’s lap. Boo’s lips curled with distaste, but he bit down on it for Star’s sake.

“Alright. Where should I start?”

Ludwig’s eyes rolled, but Morton smiled gently and said, “Morton thinks stories should start at the beginning.”

“Hmph. Are you sure?” Boo ribbed, “Might be more interesting if we drop in right at the middle…”

“No!” Morton laughed. “Beginning! From the four friends!”

Boo’s tail gave a little flick.

“…That far back?”

“Morton wants to hear the whole thing!”

“Hmm, we might not have that long.”

“S’okay. But wanna hear as much as I can! Tell! Oh, uh, please!”

Boo sighed. Blegh. Luigi was making that face because his nephew was being adorable. Morton was adorable, that wasn’t in question, but yich. What a sap…Ah well, at least the green bean wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t sure how much of this he’d be able to get through with those infernal blue eyes honed in on him. Wretched creature probably realized that, too. Which is why he’s deliberately not looking…screw you, Luigi, and your small favors! Ugh! Morton chirped. Wait—what was he meant to be doing again? Oh. Right.

“Okay. In the beginning, there were four friends…”

Chapter Text

Boo’s description of the early years was cursory and largely indirect. There were a few interesting anecdotes involving him and Morton and some off-handed references to events with Bowser and Johann, but the story didn’t start getting detailed until Boo reached their teenage years. The ghost king’s fangs glinted in the dim light as a low hiss hit the air.

“Our father was a cruel koopa. He’d never had much patience for my disobedience, and he believed pain was the best form of discipline. It worsened significantly as we aged and developed our own free will. Morton largely avoided his wrath by striving to be a model son, but I refused to grovel at his feet.” He scoffed, bitterly, “When I turned seventeen and came into money of my own by way of our grandfather’s legacy, I was suddenly able to drift farther afield. Wealth and social status suddenly gave me new and exciting freedoms and too much access to unhealthy indulgences. I enjoyed the company of others and drowned myself in drink to forget that eventually I’d have to return to that ghastly old manor and the sting of the old koopa’s fist. I wasn’t a good person, Star.”

Morton whined softly. Boo took the silence that followed as disgust, but Ludwig and Luigi both knew the gray koopaling was simply absorbing all he’d been told. Neither of them were surprised when he said, “Not bad, either.”

“You…but…”

“Good can do bad things. Bad can be good…maybe…people not always good or bad. Luigi was my enemy. Used to fight, even hurt us…but then, we turn friends and Morton realized Luigi is good. I’m not sure you’re good…but don’t seem…bad…”

Ludwig gave his younger sibling a surprised side-eye. He trusted the gray koopaling’s judgement, that’s how they ended up getting close to the green plumber, after all, but—all he’d ever experienced from King Boo before was icy coldness. Then again, he’d only seen the monarch from afar, usually conversing in hushed tones with king dad…

Boo was so stunned by the gray koopaling’s pronouncement, he didn’t perceive it at first, but a sweet and substantial taste was spreading across his tongue. The warmth was radiating off the koopalings, but the sweet notes…he looked at the plumber. Luigi only had eyes for Morton. Love and pride overflowing as those arms held the koopaling close. Morton purred softly and leaned into it. Turned out Bowser was right. The human truly cared for the royal offspring… He didn’t like it, but at the very least he didn’t have to keep searching the man for ulterior motives…

“Story,” Morton reminded, softly. Boo blinked and sighed. Right…

“Well, we did the beginning. What do you want to hear now?”

“Do you—” all eyes turned to Ludwig. The eldest koopaling’s tail twitched nervously. “D-do you know how my parents met?”

“Know? I was there, but we’ll have to go back just a bit.”

“One night I was so drunk, I knew he wouldn’t spare me the claws and I just couldn’t face it. I was on the street…The party’s most ‘gracious’ host had finally called the evening to an end. It had to have been past two in the morning. I stumbled down the road, further and further from the ritzy part of town, until I wandered into the tenth district.” He elaborated because things were probably different now…not for Luigi’s sake. Certainly not. “The crowded part of the capital, where most of the ‘common folk’ resided. By some odd turn of fate, I came across a safehouse…”

He'd stumbled through the doors into a small lobby. An enormous pair of double doors were presumably all that stood between him and a place to rest his head for a few hours. Reading the terms and conditions posted by the door was difficult when there were three of them overlapping. He did his best to focus on the one in the middle, but even then, he absorbed very little. A few things were bolded though: no violence, no threatening behavior, no bothering others. Fine by him. He went in. Huh. Building was an old worship center. Either side of the aisle was lined by benches. He slid plastron-down onto the first empty one he saw and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Next thing he knew, someone was shaking him by the shoulder. He growled softly and opened one eyeball, glaring. It couldn’t have been more than hour, because he felt nearly as drunk as before. Three versions of the same koopa were frowning severely down at him, not bothering to hide her distaste. She was tall and had long, blue hair braided and fastened prettily up off her neck.

“Sir, we need you to move.”

“Your lordship.”

“I’m sorry?”

“’S lordship. Not sir.”

Her eyes narrowed even more. “We don’t use titles here, sir. Everyone has equal right to the space. I’m very sorry, but I have to ask you to move.”

He was going to argue when a child’s voice asked somewhere nearby:

“Mama…why does dad always smell like that when he’s mean?”

He sat up and saw in the next row a female koopa bent over her little one. She whispered something into the kid’s ear he couldn’t make out. Their eyes made very brief contact. She looked terrified. There were bruises on her face. He stood and stumbled back out into the aisle.

The koopa who’d shaken him awake seemed surprised he hadn’t put up more of a fight. Huh. He rumbled lowly under his breath.

“You got showers?”

“That way,” she pointed to the back. He started off but only made it a few steps before nearly losing his balance. She took hold of his arm to steady him. He growled. She tensed, but didn’t withdraw. “This is a safehouse and my job is maintaining that safety. Yours and everyone else’s.”

He just continued toward the showers. The water was cold. Fine. He’d take what he could get. He stripped his shell and set it to one side. The cold shocked some clarity back into his system. Only as he used a bit of their plain soap to clean lingering bits of barf and alcohol off his face and neck did he realize he’d never heard her footsteps retreat. He turned his chin over his shoulder to call out to her.

“What? You gonna watch the entire time?”

“You’re still drunk. You die on the tile and this entire location gets shut down.”

“Hmph,” he could feel her hostility all the way from over here. “Well? Don’t hold back, babe. I can tell you got something on your mind. Shoot.”

“Lord Salter’s lot are bad enough. This place is for people who need protection—who have no other place to go. So, as soon as you’re cleaned up and steady, you need to leave.”

“Nobles don’t have problems, huh?” he said, hollowly, feeling the cold sinking numbness in his bones.

“I didn’t say that.” She snapped back, “Some of the folks in our care have titles more esteemed than yours. They’re running from very powerful claws. I can’t afford to allow in anyone who might compromise the safety of this stronghold. It’s nothing personal. You’re welcome to clean yourself up, but the beds go to those who need them most first and we don’t have any free at the moment.”

“Don’t need a bed. Bench is fine.” He turned off the water and shook the excess water off before sliding back into his shell. He turned to shoot a hard stare at her. “Problem?”

He could tell he’d surprised her again. She pressed her lips tightly together, but didn’t argue.

“What time is it?”

“Almost four.”

“Fine. Two hours and I’ll be out of your hair.”

She eyed him suspiciously, but again, didn’t argue. He went back to his bench and quickly fell into exhausted sleep. Two hours later when she went by to check on him, he was already gone.

“Hil!” She turned toward her co-worker. They glanced past her at the empty bench. “His ‘lordship’ is gone, hmm?”

“Yeah…thought I’d have to wake him, but—”

“Huh. Aw, well. Good riddance.” Apparently, her grim face gave the other young lady pause. “Hil?”

“I—I’m not so sure. He seemed…troubled.”

“Hmph. Well, he’s gone. Besides, can’t help him unless he wants it,” Her friend was still mulling it over. She sighed, “Fine, look. If he shows up again, I’ll call you.”

Hildegarde’s face softened with relief. “Thanks.”

A few days passed. The sanctuary was busy. Several of their at-risk families were discreetly moved to residential safehouses. Those operations were always tricky. This time things had very nearly come to a head when one of the spouses had shown up demanding her husband and kids. They were lucky Lady Era—their proprietress—was on-site to deal with them. Hildegarde didn’t get the message from her coworker that he was back until he’d already headed into the showers. Again, he’d taken the left-most stall. He whipped around to look at her the second she stepped inside. She knew fear when she saw it, even under all that bravado.

“You again? What, miss the show?”

“Are you drunk?”

“Are you still sober?”

He had a black eye. He saw her noticing. “Went to a party.”

“And got in a fight?”

“Yeah, so?” his tone dared her to cast judgement. She didn’t.

“What? Someone drink the last of the alcohol you liked?”

He scoffed, “More like Lord Salter tried putting the moves on someone who wasn’t interested.”

She was surprised again. He sneered.

“May be a drunk asshole, but I’m not just gonna stand there while someone gets hurt.”

“Because you know how bad it hurts when no one tries to save you?” she asked, her voice almost lost under the running water. This time when he turned off the water and turned around, his face was soft. He was quietly acknowledging her and her voice of experience. He dared to pry.

“You know it, too?”

“My ex-husband. That’s—that’s why I’m here. This place saved me from a life of suffering. If I can do that for even just one other person…”

“’S good work,” He grunted, slipping his shell back on, “what you folks do here.”

“My name is Hildegarde.”

One second of silence turned to two, then lingered on. She took a small step forward, but didn’t reach out.

“What should I call you?”

“Don’t call me anything. Not worth your time.”

“Why not?”

“There’re plenty others here who need your attention more than I do.”

“But we could help you.”

“Trust me, I’m beyond saving.”

She saw him again two nights later. Then four nights after that. Then the following week. They’d talk while he showered, then he’d go pass out on his favorite bench and come morning, he’d be gone. This went on for three months…until one week, he never showed up. She tried not to let it get to her. No sense worrying, she told herself. She didn’t even know for certain he’d been in an unsafe situation. There were any number of reasons for him no longer coming by. But some nights, in the soul-wrenching silence of the early hours, she would wonder…

Six months. It was two in the morning. Someone was using the shower. She went to look and…there he was. He heard her approach. His shoulders sagged. He didn’t turn.

“Hildegarde.”

“It’s been a while.”

“Been sober.”

“Good for you,” she truly meant it, part of her relieved it wasn’t one of the more harrowing possibilities her mind had conjured up.

“Martin.”

She stared. He turned. Their eyes met.

“The honorable Lord Martin of the ferric branch,” he spat the title with hatred instead of pride. “Dishonorable, more like.”

“Why now?” she asked softly, figuring he’d understand. Sure enough, he did.

“Needed a drink.”

“Is that all?”

“Never is. But you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Worrying about it is part of my job.” She reminded him.

“Don’t want anyone else involved.”

“I respect that, but if you need our help—”

“All I need is your shower,” his lips were sternly set. She let it drop.

“Okay. You know…I can get you a towel.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll live.”

Once she knew his name, she saw it everywhere. Society magazines, in the newspapers as a noted attendee and thrower of wild parties and every notable royal ball. She picked them up at the news stand late-morning most of the very days she’d seen him. More than once, she wondered why he used their shower and chose to sleep on a bench when he could presumably be staying with his friends or hosts. But then…came the announcement. The headline had her snatching a copy with shrewd interest:

NOBLE UPSET: ELDEST FERRIC PASSED OVER, SPARE TO INHERIT BULK OF FORTUNE!

The honorable Martin, eldest son of his magnificence Lord Tyrus the Third, has been disinherited. Seems his playboy attitude and notorious drinking habits finally cracked his lordship’s goodwill. In a stunning announcement made this morning to only the most esteemed members of the press, his honor declared that the younger progeny: the honorable Lord Morton will, upon his passing, receive the lion’s share of the fortune and the grand Magma falls estate, estimated at a whopping…

She didn’t read any further, just folded it up and tucked it safely away in her shell. That night he turned up drunker than she’d ever seen before. She had to practically drag him to the bathroom. His body lurched in a very familiar way, and she knew what was coming. She hefted him into a stall. He dropped to his knees in front of the toilet woozily. She bent down to hold his head, making sure he didn’t slam it against the seat in between vomiting up the contents of his stomach.

“Martin…” she called, gently, when the heaves seemed to finally die down. “Can you hear me?”

“Shower.” He croaked, trying to stand, then opting to crawl when he couldn’t quite manage. She clicked sharply and yanked him up herself. Even with the extra foot or so of height she had over him, she struggled to do so. His weight swayed them off course more than once, but eventually they made it to the shower stall. She propped him up against the wall. There was a support bar there for him to hold onto. She turned on the water, shivering a little as it blasted the pair of them.

“What’re you—” he frowned, struggling a little in her grip until she nearly slipped. His hands brought her back toward the bar so she could catch her balance.

“L-let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

“Hmm…” he eyed her narrowly. “Fine. Take off your shell. You’re covered in your own sick.”

He grimaced but obeyed. He didn’t say a word as she cleaned him, or as she cleaned his shell. Something cold and wet pressing against her skin started to itch and she rediscovered the paper she’d hastily tucked away for later. She flung it out behind them on the bathroom tile. She’d pick it up later. She went back to scrubbing his scales and went up to do his neck, but his head was turned…shit. She shouldn’t have—

“Saw the news then?”

“You must feel hurt.”

“Morton deserves it a million times more anyway.”

She frowned. He was avoiding a direct answer, but the one he’d given was interesting. The name was said with a softness she hadn’t heard very much from him.

“Are you happy for him?”

“No.”

“But you just said…”

“Last thing he needs is to be trapped in that greying old manor for the rest of his life.”

“Trapped?”

His growl didn’t even phase her.

“Is that how you feel?”

“I turn nineteen tomorrow.”

Right. She’d read it somewhere, but it was a sharp reminder that he was the age she’d been when she’d married the Baronet…They’d married too young and for all the wrong reasons, social status and money. Within a year she knew she’d made a grave mistake and she was stuck, alone, terrified and hopeless…then by some miracle, she’d met the Lady at a social function. Lady knew the signs and had covertly given her the address of a safe space—but now was not the time for reminiscing.

“And?”

“I come into more of my own money under the terms of my grandfather’s legacy. Dad can’t touch it. It’s mine. I’m getting my own place. Somewhere here, in the city.”

“I see.”

“Wanted to take Morton with me.” He glared furiously at the paper. “But now…I’m afraid. When I’m gone…”

It was his first time ever showing weakness. He trusted her. Her hand squeezed his shoulder and offered advice. “If you can’t get him out, the best you can do is maintain contact. No matter what. Make a plan. Hopefully you’ll never need it, but you should have a way to sneak him away without being seen. And…if there’s ever anything else you need…we’ll be here.”

“Thanks.”

For the very first time ever, she actually saw him leave. She was speaking with a co-worker and couldn’t go to him, but their eyes met. A shiver ran down her spine. She didn’t know any details, but whatever situation he was about to walk back into—he was scared and that was enough to set the short blue hairs on the back of her neck on end.

“Hildegarde?” Her co-worker asked, concerned. “You alright?”

She shook it off. “Fine. I’m—I’m fine.”

She was grabbing coffee from the street cart the next morning when the hawker a the newspaper stand shouted:

“Family Bust-up! Violent Altercation between Lord Tyrus and his son!”

Her coffee cup burst open on the ground and several passers-by were splashed.

“Hey! Watch it, lady!”

She lunged forward, snatching a paper from the barker and shoving two coins into his claws. Her eyes leapt across the page until she found the only words she needed: Royal Infirmary. She hurried to the safehouse. She had day shift, but maybe she could convince someone to cover for her—In the doorway she slammed into Lady.

“Lady! I—I’m so sorry! Are you alright?!”

“Quite unharmed, dear. Which is more than I can say for you. What is going—”

She shoved the papers into Lady’s claws, “I—he’s been coming here.” She whispered. Her fists clenched, “To—to talk. For a while, now. He—he was here yesterday. I—I saw him leaving, I—I should have—”

Lady’s face hardened. “Leaving was his choice, dear. There’s nothing more you could have done.”

“But—” she fought back the gathering tears. Lady read the rest of the article, then raised her wand.

“Lacy.”

“Hmmm—Hmmm? Lady? What time is it?”

“Ten. How soon can you be in?”

The koopa on the other side glanced behind Lady at Hildegarde, but didn’t ask questions.

“Gimme two minutes.”

“Thank you.”

She was feeling numb as Lady’s arm wrapped around her shoulders and guided her to a seat.

“None of this is your fault, Hildegarde.”

“I just—maybe if I’d offered different advice—”

POOF!

Lacy’s pink hair was disheveled, but she was now awake and alert. Lady eyed her, sternly.

“Can you, Dolls and Erik handle things here?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Excellent.” Lady helped her up and steered her out the door. “Come along, dear. I believe it’s time we visit the royal infirmary.”

“But—they won’t let me—”

“They’ll be hard pressed to deny me. Chop, chop. Do keep up!”

Her ladyship was right on the money. With a bit of pressing, they were escorted in by an orderly. Two figures conversing in hushed tones turned to see who was approaching. Lady curtseyed and Hildegarde bowed deeply as she could without dropping to her knees.

“Your highness,” Lady bayed, respectfully.

Hildegarde didn’t look up, even though she was extremely curious.

“Stand,” a deep voice growled, and she obeyed. Those red eyes were hot enough to pierce a person’s soul…He spared her no more attention than that one second, turning quickly to address the lady. “Lady. What can I do for—”

“Nothing. We must have words with Lord Martin. What’s his condition?” The lady asked, her tone softening. There was a lot of stress and anxiety in the king’s shoulders and the magikoopa beside him.

“He woke up about an hour ago, but he isn’t talking.”

“I want to see him.” She blushed a little when she realized she’d just made a demand of the king. To her surprise, he waved an arm toward the door.

“After you.”

She didn’t waste any time, just in case he lost patience. He did seem pretty annoyed…

She paused just a moment on the threshold, her breath catching in her chest. Her eyes catalogued every single injury and mark that hadn’t been there the day before. In the chair beside him, a koopa who looked a lot like him, but younger. Seventeen at most. At least now she had a face to put with the name. Morton was saying something and looked devastated when the koopa in the bed didn’t respond. But as Martin’s eyes looked away, guiltily, they found her.

“Sit?” he asked, eyes drifting to the chair on the other side of his bed. She took a seat.

Morton, the King, the magikoopa and Lady all stared, surprised, but didn’t dare draw attention to themselves for fear of sending the convalescent koopa back into silence.

“I saw you leave. I—I should have—”

“No. You shouldn’t.” his hand clutched hers in an iron grip. “I’m still going to do what we talked about. I’m getting my own place in the city, but…” his vulnerability showed as he glanced his little brother’s direction.

“Marmar…”

She acted as if Morton hadn’t spoken at all. It was a little rude but, “Martin, this is Lady.”

“We’ve met, my dear.” Lady’s deep voice bayed. “Rest assured, son. I’ll have my people put all the necessary hexes in place. Should he ever so much as attempt to lay hands on anyone in future, he’ll land right in a dungeon cell. Assuming his highness hasn’t already so ordered?”

Bowser growled, “See it done.”

The magikoopa bowed and poofed away.

The breath that left his lungs felt like it took a hundred pounds off his chest. She squeezed his hand. He looked at her.

“Thank you.”

“Martin, I didn’t—”

“You were there. Thank you, Hildegarde.”

She smiled, sweetly. “Just doing my job.”

“Yeah, guess so. Some job…”

“It has its moments,” she said, grinning.

So much changed over the next three months. He got his own place, alright. He bought a townhouse. It was four times bigger than he needed, but in the end, he’d gotten it in hopes Morton would move in eventually. Very quickly, as the possibility of that seemed less and less likely came the return of depression. Lonelier and weaker than ever, he fell back into the booze and the parties. She saw his name in the papers more than once and she worried about him. Then one night she heard the shower and she knew.

“You can’t keep doing this.” She said as she entered to see him standing under the cold spray.

“I don’t know what to do.”

She smiled and shook her head at his pleading stare. “I can’t tell you. You have to figure it out for yourself. It’s your life.”

“Yeah, well…could be yours, too.”

“Martin, what are you—”

“Marry me.”

“UM, WHAT?!”

Boo stared, flatly. Annoyed at being interrupted, but Ludwig was glaring daggers at him.

“You asked my mom to marry you?!”

“You wanna keep shouting about it, or you wanna let me finish the story?”

Ludwig sat back down next to Luigi and Morton crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

“Hmph. Where was I?” Boo grumbled.

“You’d just asked my mother to marry you,” Ludwig growled.

“Right.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Yes,” he didn’t deny it.

“No, Martin I meant…You’re a drinker.” She sighed. “Unless you can promise me that will change…”

“I get it.” He said, turning off the shower and shaking himself off as always. As he tugged his shell back on, he whispered, “But…I’d never, ever hurt you.”

She went to him, looking down into his eyes. She cupped his face in her hands, smiling sweetly. Her face glowed with sincerity.

“I know.” She hugged him. “I just can’t stand watching you destroy yourself.” He slowly hugged her back with a deep exhale. “Please…at least try to find your cause. Something you care about. Something to fight for. Something that’ll make you want to wake up in the morning.”

“Morton. I want to get Morton away from—”

“Yes, but you can’t. Not yet. He’ll take the family seat when he comes of age and then you can—but until then, you need to find something else. There are plenty of others out there needing help. If you can’t be his champion yet find a way to—”

“You’re right. You’re right! All this time I’ve just wasted and I could have—”

“No. Every minute up till now was just before. This…” she took his hands in hers. “This is your life now. You’re free. Use your freedom to do something great.”

“I—I’ll try.”

He showed up at the safe house in the middle of the day three days later.

“Martin, what did I tell you about coming here? You can’t just—” Hang on. He didn’t seem inebriated… “What—”

“There you are, Martin! Ah, Hildegarde. I should have realized you’d be most eager to speak with this young buck. I hear his most generous offer came at your suggestion!”

“Sorry?”

Martin blushed. “Actually, Lady, I—I, er, we hadn’t—I didn’t—”

“Oh! Well, in that case, please, Hildegarde, do join our little meeting.” Lady ushered them both into her little office at the back corner of the old worship hall. She closed the door and gave her wand a flick. A sound barrier and anti-intruder hex covered the walls. “Very good! Now, it really is most exciting! Young lord Ferrus here has very kindly volunteered his townhouse as a residential safe-haven for koopas and families whose spouses are particularly dogged. His reputation as a koopa of hedonistic and well, shall we say, loose—”

Martin harumphed so she hurried on.

“—tendencies can actually play quite nicely into our hand as no one will be particularly surprised to see folks coming and going at odd hours. Furthermore, as he is occasionally the subject of the news, with the help of his royal highness’ esteemed magikoopas, we’ve already laid a few enchantments to keep the occupants from spying or prying eyes. Blurry photographs, that sort of thing. Seeing as you two are already familiar and work well together, I would like you, Hildegarde, to take up the role of placement coordinator for the west end. As you know, Tilly is leaving us in two weeks’ time, and I need someone I can count on.”

“But, my lady, the safehouse—I love my work and—”

“And you shall still be able to do it, my dear, just one or two days a week instead of all of them. You’re excellent at the planning side of things. Don’t think I hadn’t noticed. You were due for this promotion. I shall see you first thing in my office tomorrow to begin your training!”

She loved her work at the safehouse, it was true, but she soon found out that helping families find placement in homes where they’d have the ability to start building new lives while the old ties detangled or were severed—was just as rewarding. Martin, for his part of things, was excellent. He was relaxed, easy-going, and even easier to work with. Everyone who stayed with him said that he didn’t ask questions or get involved, but that he listened to their concerns and even stayed up on night watch the first few nights a new koopa or family arrived. He had six bedrooms and several large commonspaces, so there was always room for another few koopas or a family in a pinch, at least until alternate accommodation could be arranged. He was a real lifesaver. He had the pantry kept stocked and sorted. The new year celebration came and went. He’d been hosting at-risk koopas and families for a little over a year, when the letter arrived. Lady brought it over to show it to her. She was confused. Beyond confused, but—

Dear Lady,

As you know, the number of koopas and families coming through my household has slowed as of late. With all luck, the numbers of folks who need our help will continue to slow in future. But I’m afraid I must ask for no new guests after these last three families have left. Just for a little while. A few weeks. Maybe a month at most. A very close cousin of ours is returning from university in Neo Bowser city, and I’ll be expected to play out the role of the most lavish host. I’m having a party next month to celebrate his return. No expense spared. You’re both invited.

Martin

She frowned. Lady tutted.

“Yes, that’s rather what I thought. Will you be attending?” Lady asked.

“No.” she answered, instantly. She had no desire to witness firsthand the rumored furor of one of his grand ragers. “Will you?”

“I’m getting a bit old for late-night soirees, dear…but I might poke my head it to see what other kinds of noble rabble he manages to pull from the woodwork. This cousin he mentions…I believe he must mean the lone son of the duke and duchess of north mountains, the von Koopa’s heir. Oh, what was his name…”

But Hildegarde didn’t wait around for Lady to try and remember his name. She had pressing work to attend to.

Chapter Text

Two months later, on the eve of Martin’s party, all hell opened up beneath their feet. Lord Salter. Damn him. His latest mistress—Lei—a pretty, young slip of a thing, had come to them in tears, begging, pleading for their help. She’d tried to make contact with them before, only to then do the one thing they’d begged her not to: go back. He made it very clear what would happen if she ever tried leaving him again. Credit where credit was due: the brave girl had done it anyway, but she was terrified. And with good reason.

Lord Salter was very powerful. He had so many koopas on his payroll he was a force to be reckoned with. Even the king’s best generals had trouble keeping him in check. Add to that his rumored illegal dealings that everyone knew about, but no one could ever seem to prove. Too much evidence evaporated, too many folks conveniently looked the other way. The Lord was a parasitic root leeching off others and poisoning the ground around him until he was the only one powerful enough to flourish there.

The haven had tangled with him before, helping his wife stay under his radar until restraining orders were in place. He’d sent multiple goons to track them—a crooked lawyer to try and insist she return home—and even a burglar to break into the safehouse and leave her notes from him. This time, things came to a head much earlier than they’d hoped. Two hours after she’d arrived a letter dropped into the shelter through the mail-slot:

You have what’s mine and I’d like it back. Don’t make the mistake of getting in my way if you know what’s good for you.

Lady called the girl and Hildegarde into her office and tossed the letter down on the desk.

“What are we going to do?! He’s coming for me! Please, please, don’t let him—”

“We won’t,” Lady said, firmly, “But this means we need to move tonight. I doubt we’ve time to make it all the way to Neo Bowser city. We’ll have to risk a halfway house for the night, somewhere near the edge of town.”

“Lady…you mean…”

“Freida!” her ladies’ maid appeared in poof of smoke. “Tell Jaques to have the kart ready and waiting in twenty minutes. These ladies need dresses and makeup. Find something from my closet, yes? And my favorite wig. The one with long brown curls.”

Hildegarde sighed. She really, really hadn’t thought this was how her day was going to end…

They arrived together, driven by Lady’s chauffeur. Hildegarde tugged at the slit fabric of the black sparkly dress Lady had leant her because it contrasted ‘simply divinely’ with her hair. It was far too glamorous for her tastes, but needs must. Lei was wearing a pink floor-length gown and a brunette wig. Lady, as usual, was wearing a long wine-red, flowing gown of luxe silk. She was so glamorous…

Hildegarde’s head spun at how smoothly both she and Lei handled being greeted by the sweat-inducing number of guests, how effortlessly they weaved and dodged elbows and avoided stepping on skirts—How were they so good at this?! Lei took her by the arm and helped steer her through the throng of koopas wearing dresses and fancy suits.

“Hehe, I know that look.” Lei sympathized. “I’ve been there. It’s not so bad, really, you get used to it.”

How?! Was this really something one just ‘got used’ to?

“AH! The koopa of the hour!” Lady bellowed, proudly, greeting Martin and a short koopa with a green head, round eyes and black hair streaked with purple. “The young heir to the von Koopa legacy returns at last,” she said warmly, greeting him with a smile an awkward hug. He didn’t seem to recognize her, which was a little embarrassing, but she just smiled. “Lady Era, dear, just call me Lady. Everyone does. I’m a dear, dear friend of your mother’s. We were at school together. How is she these days? I hope her health has improved?”

“She’s very well, thank you, Lady Era, ah—forgive me—Lady.”

While they were speaking, Hildegarde used the opportunity to seize Martin by the arm of his suitcoat. She bent down to whisper in his ear.

“Martin! I need talk to you.”

“Hildegarde! I—I didn’t think you’d be coming, I—” he stared her up and down. “You look amazing!”

“I—we need your help.” She said, pleading, keeping Lei close, even as she used her other hand to hand him the letter. He read it and his face darkened, a growl rumbling out from his chest and attracting the notice of his esteemed cousin. Johann looked around his arm, eyes quickly darting across the letters on the page. They widened in recognition.

“Lord Salter. Is this a threat?” he asked, sharply.

“Shhhh!” both Lei and Hildegarde said as someone passed and cast an interested glance their way. The ladies just waved and smiled. Soon as their back was turned, Lady nodded at the door behind them, and they dragged the two young lords into a quiet empty room. Clearly, this was a kind of office and reading space for Martin.

“Alright, just what is going on?” Johann asked, crossing his arms over his plastron. The ladies turned to Martin.

Sighing, he confessed. “I don’t want you getting involved. It could be dangerous.”

“Too late. I’ve seen your note. Salter’s an ass. Always has been. Had the nerve to threaten my father with legal proceedings for a less-than-savory report on him in the gazette.” Johann’s father owned the paper. “Dad published anyway, of course. What’s this all about?”

“Me.” Lei whimpered, “He—I left him.”

Tense silence.

“I can’t—I won’t go back—” tears were gathering in her eyes.

“I—we won’t send you back to him.” Johann said, calmly and with warmth, gently taking her hand in his. Within moments, Lei had flung herself against him. He was surprised for a half-second, before he gently rubbed circles on her back, murmuring affirmations of safety. Lady and Hildegarde’s eyebrows rose. He was good at this.

Martin mumbled, “Johann is…good. He’s—he knows how to talk to people.” Then, mostly just to Hildegarde, he whispered, “He left to study in Neo-Bowser city around a year and half ago…”

Which would have been about around the time he first walked into the safe house. So, the person he’d always gone to talk to was gone and Martin had been left up a lava river without a grappling hook…

One of Johann’s hands reached over and squeezed Martin’s. It was only as the short koopa let go and opened his mouth to ask what was to be done about this that the von Koopa’s eyes settled on her. For some reason she could feel her cheeks getting hot as he followed the slit in her dress all the way up her leg to her thigh. She should feel annoyed, not embarrassed for goodness’ sake! He was blatantly ogling her!!! When the eyes finally found her face, he, too, had a bit of extra color in his cheeks. Well, good! Probably because he realized he was caught staring!!! He has a nice face…how old was he anyway? Too young for her…probably…but if he’s Martin’s age he’s only five or so years younger than me, so…why was she thinking about this?! No. Fine, he’s cute, but he’s a Lord, remember! And Martin’s cousin! She didn’t even know how Martin felt about her anymore, but if he did still care, then she couldn’t just hurt him like that. Wait, like what?!! Why was her brain getting so stuck on this koopa?! He’d barely so much as looked at her!

“Sorry, please, forgive my manners. I—I don’t think I got your name, Miss—uh?”

“Hildegarde.”

Lady gently took Lei off his hands, and he offered her one. She went to shake and was a little shocked when he kissed her hand instead.

“Ah,” A smirk stretched across his lips. Renewed interest danced in his eyes as he shot Martin a look, “The one who denied my cousin’s hasty proposal.”

“You told him about—” she didn’t get to finish.

“He tells me everything,” the smirk widened. That easy confidence was scintillating. “Thank you. I know he’s a bit of a blockhead.”

“I’m standing right here,” Martin pouted.

“But…he means a lot to me. I appreciate your looking out for him.”

“Just doing my job.”

He seemed incredibly pleased with himself, grinning like he’d figured her out.

“So he said.” He looked up into her eyes. He was a full head shorter than her, but she was quickly learning he had personality four times his size. In a voice so soft she wasn’t sure anyone but she could catch, he added, “but I think that to you, it’s more than that. I think helping people is your raison d'être.”

“I do what I can to try and save others from being hurt like I was. No one…no one should ever have to go through that.”

“You—” The gloating little smile he’d worn up ‘til now fell away, replaced with regret for so callously exposing her tender vulnerability.

She smiled numbly, mirth never reaching her eyes. “Guess he doesn’t tell you everything.”

“I’m—I’m sorry.”

She shrugged it off and turned away from him, addressing Martin.

“We need a plan. Salter won’t try anything while there are people here, but they’ll only be here for so long…”

“I know the guy’s a sleazeball, but you really think he’d be bold enough to attempt some kind of attack?”

“We’ve had trouble with him before.” Lady chimed in, “We can’t afford to take chances.”

Hildegarde focused on clearing her mind by taking a few slow, deep breaths. “Stand back, please. I want to lay some protective enchantments over the house.”

“Area hexes are usually a good place to start,” Johann said, taking out an intricate silver wand studded with pearls from the inner pocket of his dark purple suit and raising it up. Before he could cast anything, however, Hildegarde’s wand crossed his. Hers was a simple carved bone affair. Elegance in simplicity.

“I don’t need your help, pretty boy,” she grumbled.

His smirk was back, eyebrows slightly raised and eyes sparkling.

“Pretty, hmm?”

“I—shut up.” Hildegarde bumped him a bit roughly, trying to ignore the heat on her face as she shoved past to be at the center of the room to cast the area spells. They stretched out overhead and expanded out of sight, wrapping the building in magical protection. Now she’d be able to feel magic use and keep an eye on any and all intensely magical presences inside the building. She closed her eyes for just a moment and really felt around her with her own magical abilities. Most koopas didn’t have enough magical training or ability to be perceived by a spell like this, but nobles—well, all the noble lines possessed innate magic, honed or otherwise. She had to sift carefully through each individual entity. There were several whose strength was notable. They seemed to mostly come and go like ebbs of the tide around a little cluster of three extra bright auras. The young king’s was a bit like a flame, dazzlingly warm in its intensity. She was interested to note that Morton’s was more intense than she’d expected. His magic was strong. Stronger than Martin’s, certainly, by a clear margin. And beside them…

She shivered. The magikoopa that flanked them, the king’s royal advisor, was chillingly solid like a block of ice because he was far too powerful to be read by a spell like this. That much strength was truly harrowing. Only…it wasn’t just coming off the advisor currently mingling with the guests in the other room, was it? There was a much closer aura giving off a milder—yet still substantial—chilly mask…She turned toward the source and opened her eyes.

The koopa with purple highlights smiled jovially.

“Something I can help with?”

“Didn’t catch your name.”

“Hmmm, not sure I want to tell you,” he played coy.

“Why not? Something to hide?” she clapped back.

“Nope, I’d just rather you go on calling me pretty.” As he said it, there was a gentle hint of color gathering in his face.

She was severely unimpressed. “Lord von Koopa, if you can’t be trusted to take this situation seriously—”

“On the contrary, milady Hildegarde, I’m all too aware of the gravity.”

“I’m not—” her blood ran cold. Her hands started to sweat. She raised her hand, which happened to still be gripping her wand. “It’s just Hildegarde. Don’t…don’t ever call me that again.”

“Hildegarde,” Lady’s baying voice called to her, “Would you mind terribly fetching my cape from the car? Perhaps you can have a quick word with Lucius while you’re there? Let him know to stay alert.”

“Of course, Lady. Right away.”

“Hil—” Martin tried to intercept her on the way out, but Lady stepped in his way, head shaking side to side solemnly.

“Let her go, son. She needs a moment.” The matronly koopa shot the von Koopa heir a most disapproving frown, “and you, young koopa. If you have any respect at all for her professional position you will cease your blatantly forward advances this instant. The only reason I am allowing you to remain is out of respect for your cousin here. Martin,” she turned to him, her eyes narrowing, “Keep him in check.”

“I—” Martin was still a bit stunned. Johann, however, was sharp as ever.

“I don’t understand what I said to upset her.”

“Clarion,” she said under her breath.

Martin and Johann briefly searched each other before turning back to her. They’d heard the name, of course.

“Surely, you weren’t too young to have heard tell of the case?”

“We heard. Baronet assaults young wife and, when she tried to fight back, he went after her with a poker.” Martin shuddered as he said it, fury pulling his lips back into a snarl. “But what’s that to do with—” He’d known Lady a while now. He knew that look. Everything, her stiff, pale expression said. It’s everything to do with it. In the only way it could. The only way he wished it didn’t.

“Stay here,” he growled at his cousin. Johann looked pale and gaunt. Well, fuck, of course, he did. If I figured it out that easy…Of course he did, too.

He found her leaning into the back seat of Lady’s regal car, only she wasn’t really doing anything. She was fiddling with the lacy cloak in her hands and staring at nothing in particular. He cleared his throat.

“Ahem.”

“Oh. It’s you.”

“Are—are you okay?”

“No.”

He took a deep inhale through his nose, then pushed it out through his mouth.

“You…you want to talk?”

“No.”

“Okay then.”

There was silence for a few minutes. She closed the car door and nodded to the chauffeur.

“Thanks, Lucius.”

“Think nothing of it, Miss Hildegarde. Shall I re-park the car behind the building? Or would it be safer to—”

“The back is fine.”

Lucius nodded and soon the car was pulling away from the curb.

“Hil…” Martin tried, awkwardly, “Look, I’m—I’m sorry about Johann. He’s…he’s always been the snootiest of the four of us…he didn’t mean any disrespect to you or—”

“It’s not that,” she whispered, staring only at the ground. “It’s—that title—” her wand hand was shaking. He reached out and took it in his own, holding her steady.

It started to rain. He snickered.

“Can you believe this?” he did his best to smile for her, “Guess we’re destined to always have these kinds of talk in a shower, huh?”

He couldn’t tell whether she was laughing or crying.

“Guess so.” After a moment or two, she said, softly, “So…Johann, huh?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I’m sure he’ll be apologizing himself soon as we get back in there, but I really am—”

“You already said that.” She reminded him. “His magic is…strong.”

“Hmm?” He’d been marveling at her strength and only now was he realizing she was looking for a response. “Oh, yeah. ‘S what his parents sent him away to study. Ancient Magics and their place in the history of the kingdom or something like that…Truth be told, he went to Neo Bowser instead of staying here so he could do a second major in music.”

“What kind of music?” her eyes sparkled. Martin raised an eyebrow.

“You like music?” he was surprised. How had that never come up? They’d known each other so long…

“I was a pianist. That was how I met—” she swallowed, “my ex-husband. He came up to speak with me after a performance.”

He hesitated. He wanted to avoid pushing her into telling him anything she wasn’t ready to, so he asked, “Do you still play?”

“I—I haven’t tried…” then with a tired smile, she gently elbowed him in the plastron, “And I haven’t exactly had a lot of free time…Or access to a piano…”

“I could probably help with that.” He suggested, earnestly. “If you really wanted to—”

“I dunno. I think maybe the music left my life a long time ago.”

“We really should get back inside. It’s technically my party, after all.” When she didn’t follow, he frowned and asked, “You coming?”

“In a minute. There’s a few more precautionary spells I need to set up.”

“Okay. See you inside in ten?”

“Sure.”

He wasn’t really very surprised when the first person he came across, standing practically behind the front door, was Johann.

“Is…is she…”

“She’ll be fine.” He crossed his arms. “What do you want?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb, Hann. We both know you don’t just go flirting with folks the way you did with her earlier. What are you trying to—”

“I wasn’t flirting!” those red cheeks said otherwise. Martin blinked. This was an entirely new situation. He’d never seen his cousin like this before. Hann’s face was getting redder all the time. “I mean…she’s—you—I wasn’t—”

“We’re not like that.”

“You asked her to—”

“Yeah, well…I barely knew her. I was trying to find something to cling to. She said no and she meant it. We’re just friends.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I wouldn’t marry her even if she begged me to. We’re not right for each other. Incompatible.”

“Okay,” Johann said, dubiously. Martin glared at him.

“I mean it. I love her dearly, but it’s not like that.” He could see gears spinning in Johann’s head. He growled, softly, “You like her?”

“Honestly? Yeah.” Johann whispered it, like he was almost afraid admitting it to the open air would somehow summon her. Then he sighed, “Though she probably won’t ever want to speak to me again.”

“Ugh, you’re such a drama koop.” After a brief pause, he asked, “You really wanna make it up to her?”

Johann nodded immediately, sensing Martin had advice to offer.

“When this whole business is done and dusted…give her a tour of your music room.”

The von Koopa considered, his bottom lip pushing out.

“You really think she’ll like that?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

The door opened. They looked up. Her steps slowed as she neared them.

“Hildegarde, please accept my sincerest apologies, I never meant to—”

“Whatever, von Koopa. Get your fancy historical wand out and help me turn the pantry into a safe room. It’s easily defendable and in a pinch we could escape through the cellar hatch. Martin, fetch Lady and Lei and have them meet us there?”

When they showed up, Lady’s face was grave and Martin wasn’t with them. Hildegarde internally braced herself.

“What is it?”

“Fabon and Ild just arrived.” They were two of Lord Salter’s cronies.

“Did they see you?” She asked, her heart beating faster. Lady shook her head, which was some small relief.

“Martin ran interference, so I doubt they saw us.”

But if they were here, then…

“They know I’m here,” Lei sobbed. “They’re going to—”

“No.” Hildegarde took both her hands and squeezed. “No. We won’t let them.”

“Mar knows this place better than anyone. He’ll need to stay with them,” she nodded toward Lei and Lady. “Go in the pantry and wait for him. If he isn’t there in ten minutes, bolt the door.”

“What are you gonna do?” Lady asked not about to leave them out here alone until she’d at least heard their plan.

“If they think she’s here, they’ve probably already got a few guys or his lordship himself waiting outside. If you get an opportunity to run, we need to be sure they won’t be looking.”

“How will you do that?” Johann asked, skeptically.

“By making sure what they’re looking for stays right where they can see it.” She took out her wand and tapped herself with it. Suddenly there were two Leis in front of them. The real Lei gasped realizing the plan. She took off the pendant that hung around her neck and shakily struggled to put it on Hildegarde.

“M-my mother gave it to me. I never take it off. He’d—if you didn’t have it, they’ll be suspicious.”

“Hildegarde,” Lady rumbled, “I respect you for volunteering to do this, but the dangers involved…”

“I don’t like it, either. If there’s another way—”

“Can you think of one?” She asked, hotly. Johann’s mouth opened and closed a few times.

“No, but—”

“Alright, I don’t think they suspect me of anything, but they definitely weren’t pleased,” Martin announced, arriving late on the scene looking a bit disheveled, his tie a tad askew. He saw two Leis instead of one and his eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”

“C’mon, pretty boy. They’re going in the safe room and we’re going back to the party.” With the spell doing its work, even her voice was identical to Leis, but the name clued Martin in.

“Hildegarde, what are you—”

“Well? Let’s get a move on. It’s your homecoming party, remember?”

“I…” Johann wisely shut up and offered his arm. She took his elbow. It wasn’t until they were making their way back the main staircase that he confronted her. “What, precisely, is your plan here?”

“Distract them long enough for the others to escape without being spotted.”

“And then?”

“Make it out alive.”

He stopped her progress. With the extra stairs between them like this, it almost felt the same way it did when she was her usual height. He was staring fiercely into her eyes. His frown lines were particularly severe when he was glowering like that.

“Not much of a plan.”

“It’ll have to do. How many guests are there?” she asked as she started back up. He slowly trailed after.

“No idea. I had nothing to do with the actual guest lists. Martin arranged everything.”

“Figures.”

He sighed and took steps two at a time to catch up to her.

“But the majority haven’t left. Bowser and Morton included,” he took on a poignantly edgy tone, “I won’t have them in harm’s way. No matter what happens, we don’t start anything until they’ve gone.”

“Agreed.” She took a deep breath as the door slowly opened on the roaring party, mentally preparing herself before she stepped back into the throng. To her surprise, he threaded his elbow back around hers.

“Just stay close to me. Try not to let anyone get you on your own.”

She nodded, covertly, with a sweet, soft smile that—to most onlookers was just a warm gesture, but Johann could see the anxiety and fear behind the eyes. Less than two minutes later, the young king himself was upon them.

“There’s the koopa I’ve been looking for. Where’s Mar disappeared to?”

“Bit of work came up. He’s seeing to it now.” He replied, choosing his words carefully, in case other ears were listening. With an air of boredom and defeat, he sighed, “He seemed to think it might take all night. One never knows with these business matters. Shame, after going to all this trouble…” he looked around at the party. Immediately he noticed Salter’s pair of lackeys watching them very closely. When he turned back to his cousin, he found red eyes focusing on their interlocked arms. “Ah, where are my manners? Bowser, this is Lei. Lei, Bowser.”

She curtseyed deeply, then rose. Johann nodded toward the gray and white figure behind the green spiked shell who trying very hard to become part of the background.

“And the honorable Lord Morton.”

Just like that, the two hostile koopas in the crowd set down their drinks and started on a clear path toward them. She was in the middle of telling Morton it was very nice to meet him when Johann snatched her boldly by the waist and steered her to the dance floor, proclaiming:

“Dance with me!”

She’d very little choice in the matter and as they spun, she soon saw why. The goons had gotten considerably closer and had re-seated themselves at a small oval table. The dance floor was packed. Hildegarde barely had enough room to breathe. She could hardly move a step or two without bumping into someone else’s elbow. Her breath hitched, her hands were sweating. She was about spiral into a panic when warm hands slid around the back of her waist and pulled her stumbling forward, pressing her up against a cool plastron. One hand slid up to support her shoulders as that smooth, soothing voice whispered in her ear.

“Just relax. Don’t let the stress get you now.

“I—thank you,” she whispered back under her breath, uncertain that he could even hear her, judging by the soothing purr he emitted, however, he had. She closed her eyes. She could hear his heart beating loud and fast. Then she stepped on his foot. “Ah! I—I’m sorry. I’m not usually so clumsy! I didn’t mean to—”

“No, don’t apologize, it isn’t just you, this place is so crowded and—”

There was a thin film of tears gathering in her eyes. Without thinking, he reached out to wipe away a fallen one with his thumb. She gasped at the delicate touch. The longer it lingered there the warmer she felt, the faster her own heartbeat raced and the harder it was to ignore how his hand was shaking. He was scared, too. For the cousins unwittingly in harm’s way? The one knowingly so in the pantry safe room below the? Yes, without a doubt, but also…

As their dance slowed, she noticed a few new guests of the worst kind mingling unobtrusively with the other guests. Some she even recognized as the same ones from the last time the Haven society had crossed swords with Lord Salter. She voluntarily slid closer and lay her head on his plastron this time, whispering against his chest, but keeping her chin angled up to be sure he’d hear.

“There’s more.”

“I know. They’ve been gathering like vultures for a few minutes now.”

“Johann,” her fingers curled on the lip of his plastron, “You should go.”

“What?!” he snarled, his growl loud enough that the unsuspecting couple beside him gave a little start, then hurriedly steered away from them. “No.”

“You have nothing to do with this. You should get Bowser and Morton and—”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“Every second you stay, the chances of them letting you go—”

“I’ve already laid my hands on you, remember? Judging by that threatening note, Salter’s too obsessed with his own inadequacies to let that slide.”

“They could kill you,” she whined.

“No could about it, from some of the looks we’re getting.”

“But—”

He brushed some hair out of her face, smiling, softly. “We stick to the plan. Stay at the center of things until most of the guests have left. Then when they make their move, we fight.”

“Hmph. Don’t die.”

“Aww, why? Gonna miss me?”

She stepped back for a look at his teasing expression and rolled her eyes. He just smiled wider and gave her a little twirl before reeling her back in, warm hands settling back on her waist. Hildegarde felt a funny kind of fluttery feeling in her stomach when he looked at her like that. She wondered if he felt it too, or if it was just her high-strung nerves. The corners of her lips dropped to a straight line. She searched his face, clearly deep in thought. He idly wondered what she was thinking but wasn’t left in the dark for long.

“I—I don’t know. Maybe.”

One of his eyebrows rose, then fell back into neutral position when he realized she was answering his question. He stared down at her. It felt wrong because the evidence of his eyes was a lie thanks to her illusion spell, but his heart didn’t believe those pesky eyes. Even though he recognized that he really should have been staring up, not down, even though the hair was different and the face was narrower and—he could go on and on. He could feel how right they felt dancing like this with her soft whispers sending puffs of warm air across his scales.

“I think you’re incredible. After everything Mar said in his letters, I already admired you. I had this kind of picture in my head of what I thought you’d be like, but…you aren’t anything like I imagined. I thought someone who does the things you do and sees the things you’ve seen—I expected you to be cool, detached, disaffected. A stoic voice of reason.”

“Hmph,” she hid her face against his plastron again. “All the things I’m meant to be, you mean. What the best folks are. I—I’ve never been able to do as much as I want to because I let myself get too emotionally involved, too attached and—”

“No,” he took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her away so he could see her face. “That’s…that’s exactly what makes you so…You’re so…warm.”

“Maybe you just have a fever.” She bit back, but this time the annoyed tone had no real bite.

“Hah.” After the old song ended and new one in a slightly different tempo began, she yelped when he suddenly dipped her down toward the ground. “Sorry. Probably should have warned you.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“So, assuming we make it through the night—”

“Big assumption,” she grumbled and he just smiled that dazzling smile again.

“Will you go out with me?”

“You mean like—”

“On a date.”

She huffed, but the longer the silence stretched without a definitive ‘no’ the more he felt like celebrating.

“I’m too old for you.”

“I’m old enough to know what I want and do as I please. You can’t be that much older than me.”

“Twenty-five.”

“See?”

“I’ve been married before.”

“So? You’re not married now.” It wasn’t a question, but he actually wasn’t super certain of her current marital status. He’d assumed she was divorced…

“Yes, but you’re a Lord.”

“Alas, that is true,” he lamented with all the sadness of a child celebrating a birthday, “woe is me. Brains, beauty and wealth!”

Oh boy…

“I sincerely doubt your parents would approve of such a match.”

“And? I’ve been financially independent from my father since I turned seventeen.”

That surprised her. He grinned, coyly.

“By all means, invent all the excuses you wish, but I didn’t hear a ‘no.’”

“Because I didn’t give one. Johann, I’m not…” she sighed, suddenly feeling this desperate ache in her chest that needed him to understand. “I’m still…I haven’t been with anyone since…”

He frowned and tilted her face up. Those pesky tears were back.

“Since your husband,” he finished, glaring darkly over her shoulder as she slid in close, He took the lead in their dance and let her sway softly along.

She nodded.

“I-it won’t be easy. And it’s more trouble than it’s worth. I’m damaged goods.”

“No, you’re not.”

She whined. He looked her in the eyes.

“I swear.” He pledged, solemnly. She was still doubtful, but he was resolute, “It’s the truth. Whether it takes ten dates or ten thousand, I’ll prove it to you.”

“F-fine,” she whispered, her voice shaking, “One date. If we make it out of this alive.”

After every dance, the floor grew emptier and emptier. It was hard not to panic. She either kept her eyes closed or locked on Johann’s handsome face. More than once, she checked to make sure her wand was tucked safely along the inner edge of her shell, ready for action.

Bowser and Morton left courtesy of the magikoopa’s teleport at around two in the morning. And that, it seemed, was curtain call. A few guests wondered aloud where the honorable Martin had wandered off to. Some theories were posited, most of them quite rude. They were even said a bit louder than necessary and too close to the dance floor for Hildegarde to think they were anything but an attempt to get a rise out of Johann in hopes of a juicy bit of gossip. He bade them a cold goodnight, and that was all. He seemed considerably more relaxed now that Bowser and Morton were gone, even though they still had about twelve koopas in expensive pinstripe suits lingering ominously at the bar a few feet away…The last few attendees continued to trickle slowly out the door, until all that remained was a koopa so drunk he could hardly stand.

Johann and Hildegarde’s dance came to an end as one of the thugs started over, reaching inside his shell for a wand. Johann’s voice rang loud and clear through the silence.

“Shouldn’t your boys drag him outside first?” he nodded toward the drunk koopa. “Salts’ll hardly be pleased with you for leaving witnesses.”

They snickered. One of the big guys opened one of the bar cabinets and noisily slid all the bottles to one side or the other, then another one grabbed the drunk by his arms and dragged him over, magicking him inside and shutting the door. They chuckled. The first goon smiled lopsidedly at them.

“That good enough for you, your highest honor?” the goon said, mockingly. He took out his wand and pointed it at the pair of them. She tried to push Johann aside, but the young lord stood firm. The thug growled. “Hand her over and no one has to die.”

“She doesn’t want to go with you.”

The koopa rubbed the back of his neck, grinning at the other fellas.

“Well, see, that’s too bad. ‘Cuz, normally, the boss, he don’t sweat a broad vanishin’ into the night now and again, but he do when she got ten million o’ his hard-earned coins danglin’ round her neck.”

Hildegarde stood very still. She didn’t gasp, didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Johann shot a shrewd glance at the pendant. She knew she couldn’t show the shell-piercing shock she was currently experiencing. Not without giving the game away. Robbery or no, there were still lives in the balance here. Ten million coins…but Lei said it was from her mother…and that they’d be suspicious to see her without it. Dammit. Even Salter’s note…I know you have what’s mine. Shit. He hadn’t been referring to Lei, had he? Not really. Fuck. She reached down for the chain and yanked till the clasp popped and broke. She tossed it at him. He caught it one-handed, fist tightening around it.

“Aw, now ain’t that nice? Good girl.” The wand didn’t lower.

Johann growled. “You got what you came for. Get lost.”

“Sorry, your lordliness, but the boss don’t just go forgetting folks who steal from him.”

Finally, she managed to shove Johann aside and put herself in front. His eyes widened and a cry left his mouth.

“No, don’t!”

A spell went off. The goon fell to the ground at her feet, her wand still gently pulsing with white-hot magic. All at once a dozen koopas reached back into their shells and some into their suits for their own wands but before the first spell could fly:

Clap. Clap. Clap.

A tall koopa, nearly the same size as the young koopa king, stepped forth through the dim doorway. The thugs lowered their wands and stepped neatly aside so their ‘boss’ could approach. She grimaced. The area effect from earlier was still in play. She could feel his aura, or should have been able to, but his magic was too strong. All she felt was a kind of chill.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

“Capital performance. Truly capital.” His applause petered out. He had neatly combed bright-green hair and eerie blue eyes with white pupils. “But your magic is far too strong to be Lei—” from under his white jacket rose a wand crusted with ruby and obsidian it barely waved a fraction and a crackling purple energy struck her, swirling round and literally pulling off the illusion as though it were a blanket she’d simply thrown over herself. She winced and grunted in its grasp. It didn’t release her until the disguise was completely gone.

Salter sneered, “No match for mine, of course…”

She fell to her knees, gasping. Johann went to her, warm hands lifting her back onto her feet while those round eyes frantically searched her face.

“I’m—I’m…alright.”

“Hmph,” With a flick toward himself, a force seized her around the middle and dragged her squeakily across the tile until she was close enough for him to reach out. He tilted her face up. She snarled and spat on him. He smiled, calmly took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. He tucked it carefully back where it belonged with perfect nonchalance. Then his hand shot out, backhanding her right across the face with such terrible force that Johann heard her neck pop.

Johann raced forward, but he was caught by a gaggle of goons and forcibly restrained. A sneering smile stretched across Lord Salter’s face. Johann growled viciously, snapping his jaws at his captors when the fiend forced her to make eye contact.

“I’ve seen your pretty face somewhere before,” he said, lazily. “Society gazette…Ah, yes…A wedding announcement. Baronet Clarion’s lovely little bride.” Scoffing, he smiled, “No wonder you barely even flinched.” Interest sparkled in his eyes, “Who are you working for?”

“I—I’m from the Safe Haven shelter.”

He laughed. His laughed even harder when he realized she was serious.

“Lady’s establishment,” he hummed thoughtfully, then his face exploded with glee, “So you’re one of the little crusaders who helped my two-timing wife go on the run.” The glee faded all too fast, a growl taking its place, “You think you’re good enough to step to me a second time?! Sorry, babydoll,” there was almost regret in his voice, “but no one crosses me twice like that, especially not this time. Little thievin’ bitch, why I oughta—”

“Boss,” the first goon, the one she’d hit earlier, wheezed. He’d barely pried himself up off the floor. He handed over the pendant. Salter took one look and closed his eyes. A small smile curled the corner of his mouth. The goon relaxed. Until his lordship slammed the gorgeous tear-drop shaped bauble straight down into the tile. It shattered. His claws scraped his lackey’s throat as he yanked the koopa to his level.

“That ain’t the pendant. You think I don’t know diamond from glass?!”

“S-S-sorry boss. It looked right, it was around her neck and—”

A blast of magic sent him flying backwards shell-first out a window with a crash, courtesy of the boss.

Hmm? Salter wheeled around just in time. She’d almost managed to get her hands on her wand. He chuckled and snatched her up by the throat.

“KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF HER!”

“J—johann…d-don’t—” she choked.

Interested, Salter cocked an eyebrow.

“Johann?” he practically purred the name as he cast her aside and strode over to watch the young lord struggle. It amused him. He looked the lad up and down. “This is von Koopa’s son?” he asked rhetorically, with a derisive snort. “How delightful. So nice to meet the progeny of such an old, dear friend.”

“He said he hopes you rot in hell.”

“Ah, how sweet.” He pulled up a chair from one of the nearest tables and set it up right in front of Johann. Taking a seat, he felt a tingle shoot up his spine. He raised his wand to deflect a spell from behind him. Chuckling he used his magic to grab her and hoist her up into the air. He could practically see the young von Koopa’s blood boiling. Excellent.

“Listen here, kid. Seein’ as your daddy and I go way back, I’ll make you a little deal. I know you and the bitch know where Lei is hidin’. You tell me where she is…and the pretty little lady here…” he tilted Johann’s face up with his wand to be sure the young lord was watching as he tightened his fingers around his wand and the magic holding her constricted painfully. She bit back a cry. “…goes free.”

Salter was extremely pleased to find that Johann was indeed his father’s son. Defiant as a typhoon.

“And if I don’t?”

“She dies.”

“You’ll never get away with it.”

“Ahahaha! You don’t think so?” his entire top half leaned forward into the younger lord’s face.

“I know so.”

“How d’ya figure—AH!” Salter hissed and released his wand and stared at the now mutilated flesh of his palm and fingers. Severely burned as though by fire—he tried to pick it up again but was unable to. It was superheated. What the—Suddenly, they were all washed away by a massive wave crashing out from the tip of Hildegarde’s wand. Several henchkoopas were swept right out the already broken window. She stomped toward Johann through the swirling dregs of the spell. She helped him up. He was soaked, sopping wet bangs over his eyes. He had to stick them to the sides of his face just so he could see.

“Johann,” she looked him over to make sure he wasn’t hurt. “T-thanks for the distraction,” but she was baffled… “How’d you cast a spell on his wand? You didn’t have yours—and he—His wand just—”

“Historically, koopas didn’t rely solely on wands to channel magic. Before the fine-tuning of wands and other channels, we used…” He unbuttoned his cufflinks and yanked back his sleeve. There was a circle carved into his scales. The design was intricately detailed. “Magic seals. This one is specifically for heat and cold spells. I didn’t mean it to curse his wand at all, that just sort of happened. It’s fascinating, really. The magic I was concentrating using the seal all started pouring into the wand when it came in contact with my person and—”

“Gotcha. Not to cut the lecture short, professor, but we’re seriously outnumbered and we’re going to need backup.”

“On it.” He hummed. Much as he hated to do it…they were in way over their head here. “Kamek!”

POP!

“Lord Johann, really! If you wanted to return to the castle, you should have accompanied earlier! His grumpiness does not appreciate me teleporting off in the middle of—” the royal advisor saw the state of the room, the water, the coughing goons.

“Downstairs. Morton and Lady, they’re with a young female koopa. She isn’t telling them the whole truth. She has a necklace on her worth ten million coins, it’s stolen. Let them know and make sure she doesn’t escape!”

Kamek nodded, raised his wand to poof away, but just as blue light began to surround him, he caught a sight that made his eyes widen behind his glasses. He gave a panicked chirp, attempting to call off the transport spell, but teleportation doesn’t respond well to cancellation, and it was slow to fully disengage and re-solidify him. A crackling burst of violent pink energy was rocketing straight toward the back of Johann’s head—no, dammit! Why wasn’t he already solidified?! It all happened so fast. Pink magic zipped toward the von Koopa heir—

Zap! Johann went flying back about eight feet before his body fell and slid across the wet dance floor. He was still…far too still…The fiend fired another round of devastating pink magic at the unresponsive lump, intent to finish him off.

Thunk! It hit a shield. A pulsating blue bubble arcing outward from the tip of Hildegarde’s plain, white wand. She grit her teeth. The magic had already left a massive impact crater, splintering the barrier with fine cracks. Salter bore down, concentrating his magic into a narrow and powerful beam. Suddenly, more magical beams, lobbed by the five or six remaining lackeys, assaulted her blue barrier.

Salter was laughing.

“Fool! You’ve already lost! You and your little friends are as good as dead.”

“I won’t let that happen. We’re going to bring you down!”

“Big talk, tough girl! If I’m going to hell, I’m taking you with me!”

Hildegarde put all her focus into holding that shield, covertly glancing back over her shoulder. The magikoopa was by his side. Salter’s magic was pushing her backwards, closer and closer to the pair of them. Johann was still out of it. She couldn’t let the attacks reach them before they were ready to fight…she had to have faith that somehow, they’d be able to overcome the odds. If anyone could put Salter away…Another quick look back. Johann was sitting up. Their eyes met. His lips mouthed her name. Ripping her eyes away, she faced the enemy again. She took a laborious step forward. Then another. Then another. It felt like four hundred and fifty pounds of force was working against every little baby step. Her muscles burned. The brightness stung her eyes. She could feel her magic draining. Please, she thought, wishing on all the stars in the sky. I just have to hold the line long enough…

CRACK! CRASH! With the splintering sound of breaking glass, it gave way. She felt tiny shards of magic slicing her scales as an eerie weightlessness overtook her and the lights went out.

The royal infirmary was quiet. Well, mostly. Doctors and orderlies came and went. He could hear Martin recapping the night’s dramatic events to Morton and Bowser in the hallway just outside the door. Truth was, Johann didn’t really care. He didn’t care what his cousins thought, didn’t care if they were upset with him and Martin for lying, any of it. All he wanted—all he needed—was for her to be okay. He crossed his arms on the bed and lay his head down to rest. An hour and a half. Even in the best of hands, it was a miracle she’d survived. Thanks to her, he’d managed to recover enough to fight. She was the only reason he was alive. And she was…unresponsive.

Salter… The slimeball had tried to escape, but Kamek had soon put a stop to that. He was currently rotting at the bottom of the royal dungeons where he’d remain for quite some time. Again, at this moment, Johann didn’t care.

He closed his eyes. They couldn’t have been closed more than two minutes when he heard the approach of three very familiar sets of footsteps.

“Hann, come to the kitchens. Something to eat’ll be good for—”

“No.” he cut Bowser off. He had no interest in eating. He closed his eyes again. He wasn’t really tired. He just kept hoping that…maybe, when he opened them…she’d be staring back.

“Johann?” Martin asked, quietly.

“I won’t leave her. She—I still can’t believe it—” she’d shielded him. And her shield…it should have broken. It should have busted three times over. She—she’d fed her own magic into it. Far more than was wise. Koopas were magical creatures, through and through. Every koopa, even if they couldn’t practice magic, had magic inside them. Those who could use it learned to tap into that resource to cast their spells and hexes. Everyone knew to use those powers judiciously. Each individual only had so much to go around and anyone stupid—or noble—enough to use their magic to the fullest…If a koopa used up every last drop of magical energy in their bodies—they’d die. She strayed too close to that boundary. She’d literally given nearly everything she had in one desperate attempt to keep him alive…

Strong arms enfolded him. He took a shaky inhale, still refusing to open his eyes. Morton’s scent calmed his breaths. The younger of the ferric brothers clung tightly to him, purring loudly. He whimpered, then leaned into the embrace with a hiccup. Next thing he knew, he was trapped in the middle of a three-way hug, purrs on all sides. He chirped, gratefully.

“She knew what she was doing, Johann. No matter what happens, you weren’t—” Martin didn’t get to finish.

“No.”

“Hann,” Bowser rumbled, comfortingly, but the von Koopa shook his head.

“Ahem,” they turned. Kamek was hovering over her bed on his broom.

“Kamek, what are you—”

“The doctors sent for me. Rather, I informed them that her mana likely wouldn’t be regenerating properly after such a drain. I asked them to call me if her levels weren’t improving.”

“Can you help her?”

“I believe so.” Kamek floated over to edge of her bed. He lay a clawed hand over hers. Blue energy glowed softly around them both, then faded. “There,” the magikoopa swayed a little, dizzily. Bowser’s hand automatically rose to steady him. He smiled gratefully at the red-headed koopa king. Bowser deeply clicked, asking if he was alright. He immediately assented. “Don’t fret, your kindliness. Now the danger’s averted and all those nasty koopas have been safely placed under lock and key, it seemed safe enough to part with some of my own mana to heal her.” Bowser growled, but Kamek was quick to assuage worry, “I’m fine.” He saw how Johann was leaning forward eagerly and he sighed, “Lord Johann, it might take some time—”

“Ughhhhh…what…where…?”

Johann dashed forward and took her hand in his. Her bleary eyes needed a few moments to find his face. The little grin that lit her face made his heart sing.

“Pretty boy…what’d I miss?”

“You…" he reached out to brush her cheek. Her dark blue eyebrows rose with mild amusement. He had to force the words out. “You shielded me. You could have—they nearly—your magic—”

“Yeah, well, still here. So…guess you owe me a date, hmm?”

Off to the side, Martin rolled his eyes, mumbling behind his hand to the others, “Thousand coins says six months to the wedding.”

Bowser crossed both arms over his chest as he contemplated the pair on the hospital bed who were so entirely engrossed with each other they might as well be invisible.

“I’ll say a year.”

“You’re on,” Martin readily agreed.

“B-but…I thought you…” Morton said softly, appraising his brother with worried eyes. “I thought you and she—”

“Nah. We’re friends, Mor. S’all we’ve ever been.”

Her eyes suddenly found him. He knew she hadn’t heard what he said, but he meant it, truly. She was important to him, but they could never be more than friends. That gaze was nervous, begging a question. She liked Johann very much, but she was asking his permission. He beamed at her. ‘Don’t ask me,’ he mouthed wordlessly, ‘Trust your heart.’ he put his hand over his for emphasis. Her smile was dazzling. She shot him a teary nod of gratitude.

“So that’s how they met.”

“But,” Ludwig frowned, “What about their date?! What happened next? What about her work? And—and—” he looked at Morton and realized he’d been very selfish when they also still had so much to learn about Morton’s parents and the metal family feud… “What about Morton?! How’d he meet Astrid?”

“Johann and Hildegarde married when Morton was only fourteen. Then…you were born and we didn’t see them as much after that. That’s sort of how it goes. Five years went by…Morton came of age. He inherited the estate from our father, but dear old dad was still very much looming large in his life. Bowser was having a party at the castle and I convinced him into going with me which is where he met…her.” Boo glanced over at the bottom of the ferric family tree where her portrait resided.

“She so pretty,” Morton whispered.

“Yes.” Boo’s attitude became subdued. The purple eyes had a faraway look.

Morton tried to reach up and pat him, but the claws went right through. The kid shuddered at the frigid cold. The corners of Boo’s mouth pulled downward.

“Don’t do that. It’s too cold. 'S not good for you.” He caught Luigi giving him the side eye and hissed, “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmph. You really shouldn’t lie, Luigi. I can smell it.”

“Maybe your nose is broken,” the human said, snootily. Why that little...

“Yours will be if you keep annoying me.”

“Doubt it. Curse, remember?”

“UGH! Humans are such loathsome creatures!” he cried, throwing up his stubby little arms and turning his back on them.

“I didn’t ask for any of this either,” Luigi grumbled. “What did you expect when you escaped? That I wouldn’t go after you?”

“Obviously, I—”

Shwwwing! SCREECH! They all threw their hands over their ears. The barrier over the room had been sliced clean through in an arch around the door. Suddenly, they could hear banging and voices from the other side—or at least one loud, booming voice.

“BOO! WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE! WHEN I GET MY CLAWS ON YOU—IF YOU TOLD THEM, I SWEAR I’LL ROAST YOU LIKE A—OPEN THIS DOOR OR I’LL—"

BANG! The door and some of the wall crumbled away as the koopa king himself exploded inside using the power of his fist. Boo cackled and vanished through the ceiling. Bowser tried swiping at him, but it was already too late. King Boo was gone.

“Grrrrrah! Dammit! Search the castle! I want the ghost king found!”

“Yes, your spikiness!” said someone behind him in the doorway and several pairs of footsteps ran off.

Two dozen more troopas filed in through the hole where the door used to be, flanking Bowser’s either side, all of them armed. Luigi slowly skirted away from the bambini. He could feel the troopas’ eyes on him and he didn’t want the kids in the crossfire if things came to a head. Bowser’s low, growling voice was more hostile than he’d heard in a while…

“Escort the princes to their rooms. They’re on house arrest until I say so.”

“You can’t—” the eldest resisted.

With a vicious snarl, Bowser took Luddy’s wand and snapped it. Behind his shoulder Kamek frowned severely, but the magikoopa knew when to speak and when to bide time.

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” the king barked.

“And the human, sire?”

“Hang him in the dungeon.”

“What?!” Ludwig exclaimed.

“No!” Morton shouted. “No hurt Luigi!”

The spear troopas surrounded the green bean. A couple stepped forward and took him by the arms, yanking him cruelly forward. Morton’s growl burst forth like a bombshell and three enormous iron balls hurtled toward them only to be rapidly deformed by a radiant blast of heat so strong it nearly seared the plumber’s mustache off his face. Stars above. Morton’s spike balls were half bright red puddles of molten metal. The sparks still licking Bowser’s maw were white hot.

“Well?! GET A MOVE ON!” He shouted at the troopas. Luigi was dragged off. When he turned back to his offspring, he found Ludwig struggling to console a devastated Morton.

“He didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the one acting like a villain,” Ludwig growled.

“’S high time Green and I had a little talk.”

“Papa…please don’t hurt Weegee…”

Bowser looked away from them, closing his eyes and tightening his fists as he barked orders, “Their rooms. Now.”

Chapter Text

What was it with Bowser and lava? Luigi idly wondered. The chains and the spikes and dark stone were more than enough to scream ‘dungeon.’ Beads of sweat dripped from his already soaked curls. The back of his turtleneck was stained with it, along with his underarms. He would put down his arms to try and hide that, but sadly, his arms were chained up, so he hung in Y position. How long had he even been here? He wasn’t sure. A while. He hadn’t seen anyone since Bowser’s troopas put him in the chains. It wasn’t this hot last time…come to think of it, he’d never been left unattended, either. Why was this time different? Had the troopas messed up? Or was it on Bowser’s orders? If so, why? Intentionally or no…he had an opportunity to escape. The power of his thunderhand could probably break these chains, but not without shocking himself badly in the process and in the state he was in, those odds didn’t feel worth it. That was fine. He didn’t want to break out. He refused to leave the bambini at a time like this. What if they needed him? His breathing was as heavy as he felt. His wrists hurt. Fuck, it was so hot…

Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom! His chains trembled a little with every step. The gait was unmistakable. Luigi wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or terrified and his mind was beleaguered from the heat. The dungeon door flew open so hard it hit the wall with a bang. He winced. Footsteps came stomping down the stairs until through the waviness of the superheated air an enormous horned, spiky-shelled silhouette appeared in the gloom. The vibrations of a growl rolled through him.

“Still here, hm?”

“Where am I gonna go? Detroit?” he smiled at his own little jest, half convinced he was hallucinating this entire conversation.

“There’s enough power in you to strike your bother down with a single shot.” Bowser rumbled, the deep booming timbre of the king’s voice was strangely calming, even though Luigi could sense Bowser was annoyed. “Yet you can’t even break some measly chains?”

“Probably could. If I wanted to…” he hadn’t bothered to raise his head. He had little energy for it. He ignored the growl that echoed off the walls and felt magnified tenfold. “Even if I did…couldn’t break them without cost.”

The growl stopped. Two sharp claws pressed either side of his neck just below the jaw line. Bowser had his throat between the index finger and the thumb and used the grip to forcibly tilt his face up.

“Explain.”

“Charge from my powers lingers in my body. I have to discharge it.”

“So?”

“It hurts.”

Bowser’s snout wrinkled with intense distaste.

“You own magic harms you?” but it wasn’t really a question for him, just a stunned rhetorical. This really must be a dream, Luigi thought, Bowser looks almost…worried. “What’s wrong?”

“S-scusi?” he asked, feeling a bit woozy. He shivered when more claws carded through his soaking wet curls.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”

“No. It’s hot. Idiota.”

“I don’t have to understand to know when you’re cursing at me, Greenie,” but really Bowser didn’t care about that. He should have realized the moment he saw the man, only he wasn’t familiar with the signs of overheating in humans. If it was anything like when koopas overheated, he should…

“I was calling you an idiot.”

The words bounced off because the king’s mind was on the task at hand.

“Hmph. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Haha, good one,” Luigi scoffed. Bowser disappeared into the darkness. Luigi didn’t think the king went back up the stairs, but he didn’t know because it was easier to close his eyes than bother keeping them open. He was tired and hated the sting of sweat getting in them.

Bowser returned with a barrel slung over his shoulder. He slammed it down, pried it open and took a meager metal mug from a guard’s station nearby. Dipping it in to fill it with water, he returned to Greenie’s side. Just like he did before, he held the man’s face up. Those blue eyes weren’t nearly as piercing as they should be. He didn’t like that. He growled.

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“You need water, dontcha?”

“Si, but—”

“Open.”

Luigi felt the cup Bowser was pressing to his lips and his eyes widened. This felt too real to be a fever dream. His lips parted and Bowser slowly tilted the mug. The king was careful. He didn’t choke or splutter even once. He downed so many mugs of water that, unbeknownst to him, Bowser was furious.

Should have realized, the koopa king berated himself. If he hadn’t come along when he did…stubborn thing probably would have…his red eyes found the blue. That sharpness was slowly sliding back.

“You should have left.”

“You know why I didn’t,” he retorted, lips sternly set. Bowser’s scales were cool compared to the heat rising off the lava. Funny how the longer it lingered, the more natural the grip tilting his face up felt. Just as he thought this, Bowser let go. He smiled, softly. “Does the king of the koopas have nothing better to do than help his prisoner avoid fatal dehydration?”

Bowser huffed, looking away.

“You aided and abetted the royal offspring in actively defying me. As a citizen, you face punishment same as everybody else.”

“Oh. And here I thought I was special,” the heat had really emboldened him. He wouldn’t normally goad Bowser like this, but he was beyond done with the king’s blasé attitude.

“Seeing as you weren’t the sole conspirator and no one was hurt, I’ve sentenced you to three days.”

“How magnanimous of you…” Luigi rolled his head to one side and expended a little extra energy to closely study the king’s face. That stoic expression said very little, but the eyes were a swirling soup of emotions. He smiled, “Find Boo yet?”

“No. No sight or sign of the bastard.”

“He’s still in the castle.” Luigi was certain of that. He was a little surprised Bowser didn’t question him. Being taken seriously was validating. His neck got tired and he let his face drop again. The king growled softly, stepping forward and tilting his chin up with a massive thumb.

“How much did he tell them?” Green’s lips closed and blue eyes looked away from him. Bowser growled, “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Green. The truth.”

He didn’t ask what Bowser intended to do to him. Anything was possible. He was completely in the giant koopa’s power. Regardless, his answer was the same.

Green’s silence was infuriating. Bowser growled louder and louder the longer it went on, but Greenie didn’t bend. Something was building, thickening the atmosphere around them. Growls dropped off into nothingness. Their gazes locked. Blue lightning: defiant, charged, and wild. Red lava: deep, devouring, and swelteringly hot. The king’s index finger traced the human’s cheek and just like that the moment took on a surreal intimacy. Luigi’s lips parted. Bowser stared at them. For Luigi it was a kind of out-of-body experience, an impossible fever dream. He’d come to see Bowser through many new lenses lately: a king doing the best he can for his kingdom, a widower and single parent struggling to be a decent father for his little ones, someone intimately familiar with the pain of having loved ones torn away far before their time…but this was different from all of those. When the giant koopa stepped forward and bent down, pressing that giant snout to his lips, Lu’s body slackened. He felt something he’d never experienced before, a fluttering, tremulous feeling that he–a complex puzzle piece–had, at long last, slotted into place. Without thinking, he found himself kissing back. Then, suddenly, he was shoved roughly away, grunting as the back of his head thumped the wall.

“No.”

Luigi stared, dazed. Bowser looked as shocked as he was, heck, the king looked twice as surprised as he felt.

“No,” Bowser repeated, stunned practically into incoherence by his own actions. “What?!” Then his focus narrowed on Luigi, and he lashed out as he usually did, with anger and blame. “We’re not–I won’t–I’m not doing this with you. What’s the big idea?!”

“You kissed me, idiota.” Lu’s own frustration was laced with weariness. He could already feel a migraine coming on from the pressure of all the conflicting thoughts and emotions piling up in his head. Patience was something he had in short supply at the moment.

“What do you want from me?!” Bowser’s suspicious tone snapped something in the green-skirted plumber.

“What do I want? Do I look like the one in control here?!”

“You save my kids, you turn my life upside-down, and now you steal two of them away and–”

“They deserve to know the truth. You think they wanted to go to Boo for that? They should have heard it from you long ago.” Like a javelin, the accusation sank right under Bowser’s scales.

“The truth will hurt them. I’m their father! It’s my job to keep them safe!”

“It’s your job to teach them how to live. They’re going to get hurt. You think you’re protecting them, but all you’re really doing is delaying the inevitable. The longer you wait, the harder it will be for them to take. The bubble’s already burst. They’re wounded. They love you. They trusted you. Keeping the past hidden…you’re leaving them bleeding. Bowser…if you love them, if any part of you wants their forgiveness…tell the truth.”

Growl shaking the human’s bones, those warm fingers forcibly lifted his gaze yet again.

“Of course I love them,” then in a lower, quieter, tone, “You know that.”

“Si,” Lu whispered. “I do.”

“Why do you care so much about me earning their forgiveness?” Despite the false front of thick skin hard as diamond, there was reciprocal hyper-awareness of their vulnerability. Lightning flickering across those electric blue irises, Lu’s answer cracked the stagnant air like the flick of a whip.

“Because I love them, too.”

One golden-scaled fist closed around his chains to thunk him against the wall.

“They aren’t yours to love.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, glaring at the koopa through the pain, “but it doesn’t matter. If they want me…if they need me…I’ll find a way to help. Father or no, your highness,” and like a lightning strike the man’s intensity jolted through every muscle in the king’s body, “You can’t stop me.”

Steam puffed out Bowser’s flared nostrils. Sweat brought out intensely salty, muskier notes over the usual herbal and citrusy scents. The big koopa held the human’s head to one side. The claws of his free hand hooked the collar of that bright green turtleneck, peeling it away to expose more olive skin. He wordlessly rubbed the side of his muzzle against it. Luigi stared. The king’s expression stayed perfectly composed and unreadable.

Luigi suddenly once again found himself on the receiving end of a kiss. This one was different. A butterfly-soft brushing of their lips that blossomed into a tentative testing of waters. He didn’t reciprocate as readily this time, letting the giant have complete control of the pace and intensity. Bowser stepped away and stared at him like a guy in a daze. Lu frowned.

“What was that for?”

A large thumb traced his lips and lingered there as Bowser glowered darkly.

“Bowser…” he earned himself a growl. “Please. They’re scared and they’re hurting, and they can’t heal until they know the extent of the injuries. They’re going to find out. With or without you. Don’t make them go through that alone. Angry as they are, they need their father.”

“I need to think.” The king rumbled, turning tail and stomping off, leaving Luigi hanging all alone again, hoping with all his heart that Bowser would make the right decision.

Halfway up the maze of hallways from the depths of the dungeons to the royal wing, Kamek popped into existence beside him, looking worried.

“Your angriness, prince Ludwig has yet again left the tray teleported to his room untouched. It isn’t healthy and–”

“I want to see them in my rooms.”

“Sire?” Kamek asked, slowly, sensing a tension within the king that threatened to crack.

“I just issued you orders,” he growled. “I expect obedience.”

“I…yes. Of course. As you command, my liege.” The magikoopa teleported away.

Bowser stomped the rest of the way to his rooms. He shoved the doors open forcefully and stepped through. Morton and Ludwig neatly stood side by side with Kamek in a very straight line. He stared impassively down at each, in turn, then barked at his advisor.

“Leave us.”

“Your sternness, are you certain–”

Heated red eyes shut the old koopa up quick as a flick.

“By your leave.” POOF!

Silence permeated the space, so unruffled and perfect that every breath felt unnervingly loud. It stretched on and on until Morton whined, softly and slid behind his older brother. The sight made Bowser’s heart clench. He allowed his shoulders to sag.

“I…was trying to protect you. I only hoped to spare you hurt. I’m sorry I lied.” his fists curled, then relaxed, “I love both so much. You don’t deserve the pain the past will bring, but if the truth is really what you want, I won’t hide it anymore. If you’re going to hear it from anyone…I think it should be me. I’ll understand if you’d rather have it from Boo, or your grandfather, but…please. Let me make it up to you. I swear, I won’t let you down again.”

Morton, the sweetheart, chirped and warbled and would have flung himself straight into his dad’s arms had Luddy’s hand not caught him by the shell.

Ludwig took three tentative steps toward him. Bowser took a deep breath, bracing himself. Not that it did anything to dull the sting dealt by the distrust in his eldest’s eyes. Luddy’s nose twitched, and the distrust sharpened into fury.

“What have you done to Luigi?”

“Nothing,” he rumbled.

Ludwig sniffed the air again and growled. Morton copied the action, curious what was making the older koopaling react that way and his eyes widened. He whimpered and spoke up, voice shaking, “W-why? Why Luigi’s smell like that?!”

“What did you do?!” Luddy shouted.

Both koopalings were trembling, not from anger, though there was certainly plenty of that, but from fear. Bowser chirped sharply, trying to commandeer enough of their attention to calm the rising panic.

“Green’s fine. He’s serving three days in the dungeon. Punishment for aiding you against my wishes. Just because he’s an ambassador doesn’t mean he can evade the rule of law.”

Ludwig’s tail swished, frantically.

“He’s human. The dungeons are too hot! If you leave him there, he’ll die!”

“Papa!” Morton cried, tears streaming down his face, he wrenched free of Ludwig’s grip and flung himself against Bowser’s plastron, pleading, “Please! D-don’t let Weegee die!”

Bowser let out a low rumbling purr of comfort.

“It’s alright…It’s okay, little star. The green bean is fine, I swear. I made sure he had plenty of water. He isn’t going to die. I’ll look after him myself.” He rubbed comforting circles on the gray koopaling’s shell as Morton stared deep into his eyes.

“Promise?”

“I promise. He’ll be fine.”

“He better be,” Ludwig growled. Bowser frowned at him. He glared. “He’s good to us and you’re punishing him for that.”

“Luddy…he’s a kind person. That doesn’t make him family,” the king rumbled tentatively. The fresh memory of his most recent encounter with the plumber looming large in his mind.

Ludwig trilled, fingers working anxiously, before clenching into fists at his sides.

“Maybe it does…to me.”

“Ludwig,” he stared, floored. His eldest, the koopaling he’d struggled for months to win over, whose trust in him hadn’t fully solidified until nearly two years after coming into his care…had just declared a human they’d known less than a year to be family. A touch on his plastron brought his eyes down to his little star.

“Morton, too. Luigi our family,” he motioned between himself and Ludwig. “Don’t care he still Papa’s enemy. Weegee ours.” Then the eleven-year-old fixed Bowser with a stare of a koopa far older than the little star’s years, one so heated and threatening it made the king’s blood run cold, “No one hurts him. Not even Dad.”

“I made you a promise, Morton,” he said, purring softly. “I meant it.”

“Good.” Morton’s dark glare vanished immediately replaced with a soft smile and a little purr of the gray koopaling’s own.

“So,” he took a deep breath, “Ask me anything, kiddo. Whatever you wanna know…I’ll tell you.”

To his surprise, Luddy and Morton exchanged a glance, then the younger koopaling’s head shook side to side.

“No.”

“What? But you—”

“No more stories until Luigi back with us.”

Bowser crossed his arms over his plastron. “He has two days of dungeon left.”

“Don’t matter,” Morton said, resolutely. “Want him here with us to hear Dad’s stories.”

“Morton…” the koopa king wasn’t sure how he felt about how one of the Mario brothers being privy to the history of his family, but when the ferric koopaling frowned at him like that, he was hard pressed to refuse Morton anything. “Fine. But he’ll be sworn to secrecy. I won’t have this family’s secrets being the talk of the mushroom kingdom.”

“Weegee won’t do that, dad. Luigi good.”

“Hmph. We’ll see about that.”

Morton nodded, undaunted by the king’s doubts. “Dad will see.”

When Bowser returned to the dungeons Luigi was asleep, at least, the light state of semi-conscious rest that passed for sleep. For a few agonizing seconds, the poor king was terrified he’d made some kind of mistake and that the human had needed something more than water and had died, but closer inspection proved the man was breathing steadily. Phew. Now he knew what Green had truly come to mean to Morton and Ludwig, he certainly wouldn’t be leaving the tender creature strung up like that…not that he would have anyway after seeing the shape the man was in earlier… He should at least give Luigi a cell and free access to all the water he needed… He got the keys for the shackles from the peg on the wall and went to unlock them. Blue eyes snapped open when he took one of the wrists in his hand so he could put the key in the lock. Electricity, like tens of dozens of stinging ants crawling under his scales, buzzed straight up his arm and he winced, taking a step back. Startled, Luigi was staring at him, breathing fast—now very much awake. Bowser frowned. He could still see blue coils of excess energy arcing off the plumber’s hands and into the chains. Shit.

Luigi looked at the keys in his claws.

“You…” the human’s voice was a little hoarse, “You’re letting me out?”

“No, but I’m moving you to a cell…at least…I was going to.” He frowned at the electricity flashing up and down the chains. “Are you able to—” he didn’t get to finish.

Green bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes pressing back with one of his hands to touch the stone wall. Then, with a violent twinge Luigi cried out in pain through gritted teeth. The electricity was gone. The human’s body sagged. Bowser rushed forward, made quick work of the locks and had to suppress the urge to shout for Kamek when Green’s body slumped into his arms.

“Hey,” he nosed the human’s cheek with his snout. “Green! Greenie! Can you hear me?! Wake up!” No response. He growled just out of habit because it made him feel better. “I said wake up! You better not have gone and died from your own weird magic feedback!”

To his relief, a soft barely-there puff of a scoff hit the air.

“Huh…even I’m not that pathetic…” Luigi wheezed, very much still recovering. In his current state discharging that excess electricity had taken far more out of him than usual. He tried to cling to Bowser’s arms as he was carried to the new cell. He didn’t even notice that the koopa king’s growl had turned to something very different.

Bowser was purring because he didn’t know what else to do. His grip is so weak…is he really going to be alright? The little song Luigi hummed went strangely well with the low rumble of his purr. That had to be good, right? Humans don’t sing when they’re hurt, do they? He carefully lay the green Mario brother down on the cot in the cell at the middle of the row. He didn’t bother to close the barred door behind him as he stomped off to fetch a fresh water barrel. When he got back and found Luigi sitting up and staring at him…he eyed the door, then the man. Blue eyes rolled.

“Already told you. If I wanted out, I’d be out by now. Besides, fair is fair. Long as I’m your honorary citizen. I obey your laws, right?”

The king thumped down the water barrel and pried it open with a claw. “Drink.”

“Hmph, in a second,” the human grumbled. Bowser growled and tapped his foot, impatiently. Luigi was tugging at the sleeve of the turtleneck for some unknown reason—RIP! The king blinked. Lu proceeded to do the same with the other sleeve tearing it off at the seam. “Phew,” the human said, relieved. “Much better.”

“If you need new clothes…”

“These will do for now. Mind you, when I get out of here, I’ll have to figure something else out. These are already starting to smell terrible.”

“There’s a wardrobe full of dresses I had made for Peaches,” Bowser grumbled. Finding himself on the receiving end of a hard stare, he suddenly felt heat rising in his flamepipe and he coughed up some sparks. “Not that you’re the same size, or anything…”

“I am, actually. Or…near enough. I thought you knew.”

“What?! Why would I know that?” he could feel his face heating up and he broke eye contact.

“No reason,” Luigi replied far too quickly.

Bowser glared. “Greenie…”

“Fine. Those—those times you kidnapped Peach and she was sick with a cold wearing a mask?”

“What about ‘em?”

“That was me.”

“WHAT?!” his shout shook the walls. Luigi cowered, covering both ears. “What do you mean that was you?!”

“W-when the bambini told me about how sensitive koopas noses are, I felt sure that you had to have—”

“You were wearing her perfume, weren’t ya?” Bowser grumbled, annoyed at having been so easily tricked and tricked so well that he was only finding out about this deception now.

“Si?”

“Well, that’ stuff’s always made my nose a little bit stuffy, so it probably wasn’t firing on all cylinders. In other words, you got lucky, Greenie. If I’d caught you, why I’d—” Crap, those eyes were so incredibly blue. And that wide doe-eyed expression…made him want to reach out and—No! No! What was he even—No! They weren’t doing this! Whatever had happened earlier—whatever had possessed him to kiss Luigi—twice…that wasn’t happening again! He stomped out the cell door and slammed it behind him, all while puffing smoke and sparks out his nostrils, his cheeks feeling hot.

“Bowser?” Lu approached the now locked bars and looked out.

“Shut up.”

Luigi did…for about a minute. Then green asked, “D-did you make a decision about the bambini?”

“I spoke with them.” He rolled his eyes when the human made a surprised noise. “I may not be a great father, but I try, alright? Don’t act so surprised.”

“What did they say? Did you tell them what they wanted to—”

“They wouldn’t let me.”

“Scusi?”

“They refuse to hear any more without you.”

Blue eyes widened. They looked kind of pretty like that. Dammit. No. He really wasn’t doing this. This, whatever it was—was nothing. It couldn’t be anything. He’d thought that Peaches…but then really that was just an infantile infatuation bordering on obsession. The second he’d seen her icy heart, he was done. Greenie was a far cry from icy…but Bowser wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. It was just an attraction. No more, no less. It would fade with time, like all the others after Terre. She was the only one that had ever been true, the one he was truly made for…and she was gone. He’d never love again.

“Bowser?” the concerned call of his name brought his eyes back down to the human behind bars. “Are you—”

“Try and get some sleep. I’ll come by to check on you tomorrow morning.” He started to leave, but was recalled by a weaker, more vulnerable cry of his name. He glared back over his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

He’d no idea whether the human was expressing gratitude for accommodation or praising him for following Green’s advice regarding the koopalings. Either way, he grunted and left, feeling more hollow and alone than he had in years.

Chapter Text

“What happened to your clothes?!” Bowser’s booming voice caught the poor plumber completely off guard. Luigi jumped, jolting the water barrel beside him. The liquid inside sloshed about. He curled his fingers around the wooden edge of it, breathing deeply doing his best to recompose himself.

“One of these days you’re going to give me a heart attack,” Luigi grumbled, going over to where he’d left his skirt by the bed and hastily pulling it on over his underwear. It was hard to act like he wasn’t completely mortified by the situation, but—seeing as Bowser still had a claw up over his eyes—playing it down seemed best for everyone. “I was trying to clean myself up a little,” his face felt like it was on fire. “I’m tired of smelling like a gross gym locker.”

Bowser still hadn’t lowered the hand. Luigi rolled his eyes, cheeks still dusted with pink, but blush mostly faded.

“You can look, you know, Mr. ‘You should wear less clothes so you don’t overheat.’” He wasn’t really sure if his boldness was a product of hunger, lack of sleep, or bitterness at how confused and frustrated the koopa king always left him. How was Bowser easy to read, but hard to predict?

“Should have heard me coming,” the monarch griped.

“I was trying to bathe by splashing water on myself, I wasn’t expecting company!” he pointed out.

“Aren’t you gonna put a shirt back on or something?”

Blue eyes flashed and narrowly surveyed the king. Bowser briefly wondered if he’d said something wrong. It felt like he’d somehow offended the green bean.

“…thought you said my scars didn’t matter to you.” Luigi’s voice was airier than the draught floating in through the dungeon doors Bowser’d left ajar.

Immediately feeling like a heel, Bowser’s posture tightened.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he rumbled slowly, caught somewhere between a growl and a warble of displeasure. He took a deep breath and reset, trying again from the top. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Luigi sat down on the cot inside the cell and was determinedly avoiding his gaze. Frustrating. No. Calm, he reminded himself, taking another breath.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Yeah, I figured,” the human said, softly. “Your face was as red as the sparks coming out your nose.”

“What?! I didn’t—My face wasn’t—” his own voice echoing back at him of the dungeon stone gave him pause. Green knows you’re struggling, he told himself, the guy’s just trying to get a rise of out of you. He clenched his jaw and lowered his volume, determined to avoid meeting the human’s low estimation. “And when I asked about the shirt, I didn’t mean—”

“You already said that.”

“Would you let me finish?!” He retorted.

A muffled “Sorry” instantly left Luigi’s lips. Green slumped. Silence settled over them.

Bowser realized Luigi was waiting for him to speak, but he felt…strange. He was still frustrated, but Luigi wasn’t to blame for that. Not really. The man couldn’t help the fact that Bowser’s mind had barely been able to think about anything or anyone else these last few days…he sighed and rubbed his forehead. If only he could will away the headache he felt coming on. His claws fiddled with the key ring until he found the right one. The cell door opened with a creeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaak.

All Luigi moved were those unreasonably blue eyes. They rose to stare him in the face with a look that hit Bowser like a harpoon. Stretched out on the measly prison cot, eyes turned up at him, the king saw the state the man was really in. Luigi looked as exhausted as Bowser felt. The kids, the specter of the past, Boo, and the thing Bowser was still trying hard not to think about—could it be? It was hitting Luigi just as hard? He sighed and bent his head down so he could speak to the man through the open door with no bars between them.

“What do you want to do?”

“Do?” Luigi made no move to get up anytime soon, but raised a brow in interest, “You’re letting me out?”

“Yes, your three days are up, but that isn’t what I was asking,” Bowser huffed, eyes glowing softly as he struggled to gather up the right words in the right order. “I tried to forget it.”

Luigi didn’t say anything, but Bowser could just feel that the beanstalk knew what he meant.

“But in two days you’re all I fucking thought about.” Bowser growled, deep and menacing, “Whatever this is, it can’t happen. I don’t want—” he grit his teeth, “I’m not interested.”

“You don’t sound very sure,” Luigi whispered. There was no emotion in the plumber’s voice, just calm, calculated assurance. That was what he had to be right now, because Bowser was a super bob-omb about to go off.

“I’m trying to talk this out,” Bowser said, clearly struggling. He didn’t hide the uncertainty, weariness or insecurity he felt because he knew Luigi would find it anyway. “And seeing as you’re going to be around in future, I can’t just avoid it.”

“I don’t have to be around.”

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, “Two of my kids have decided you’re family, so you do.”

The man bolted upright and silently took that in.

“Okie dokie…” Luigi murmured, “So what happens now?”

“Exactly,” Bowser agreed.

Lu took a few more steps forward, noticing at once the extra tension in Bowser’s arms and shoulders once he strayed within arm’s reach. It had been there before, but not like this. The air felt charged, rife with excess energy.

“What do you want to do?” the man asked, turning Bowser’s first question back around.

Pfff…steam issued out the giant koopa’s nostrils.

“I want to pretend it never happened so I can go on living my life.”

Lips pressed together. Luigi clearly didn’t approve of that solution. Bowser’s eyes rolled.

“Fine. You have a better idea?”

“It happened. If you’re already struggling with that, then pretending it didn’t won’t make it better, only worse. Meanwhile, we’re still learning how to have a fucking conversation with each other.”

“Exactly!” Bowser purred a little without realizing, his tail wagging gently from having some of his feelings vindicated. Staring very seriously down into those blue eyes, he added, “I really don’t need anything making that harder.”

“I understand,” he truly meant it. “If you need space we could probably figure out a way to have them stay with me?” Ah…that murderous growl was decisive. “Or we can—”

“Not now. Not with Morton’s powers.”

Lu stared. Bowser’s hands were…trembling.

“It’s not,” they made direct eye contact. Bowser cleared his throat, “It’s not that I don’t…trust you to protect them.”

The plumber’s heart fluttered. He moved forward slowly and took one golden hand in his, squeezing tight. Bowser nodded gratefully, going on:

“…but I can’t…It’s hard to let go. Especially if there’s even the slightest chance of danger. They’re…” he choked.

Luigi smiled and said it for him, “They’re your babies.”

Bowser nodded sharply, lips twitching as his signature scowl returned to mask the vulnerability he dared not show. The fear that hung low like a cloud over his heart every hour of every day…the dread of losing another of the precious few loved ones left in his life. He hid it by lamenting the new status quo.

“I can’t believe they chose you. Of everyone in the world…a damn Mario brother.” The situation felt so absurd he chuckled. “And I thought I was doing a good job teaching ‘em who not to trust. Guess you can’t account for taste.”

Green gave a melodramatic gasp of offense, then a smirk that had him staring a bit too long at Luigi’s lips.

“Could have been worse.”

“Really?” Bowser asked, doubtfully, one eyebrow raised, still softly smiling.

“Could have been Mario.”

The full-body shudder of revulsion that went through Bowser at the mere prospect had Luigi howling with laughter. The king of the dark lands waited for the sound to peter out.

“C’mon. I’ll show you to Peach’s room so you can shower and get some clothes.”

Hesitating, just a moment, Luigi asked, “But it hasn’t quite been three days, has it? I figured you’d be letting me out later…”

“Normally, yes.” Bowser grunted, ushering Green to start up the stairs leading out of the dungeon first. Only afterward did he realize that was a mistake. Fantastic. Now he couldn’t stop noticing the muscles in Luigi’s shoulders, the line of sweat running down that bare back, the attractive curve of the neck as the human looked back to speak to him… He focused on Luigi’s face instead. “I’m releasing you a few hours early because you will be joining me and my brood for dinner tonight and you need cleaning up.”

“Oh, I will, hmm?” stars twinkled in those playful eyes.

“Yes,” he rumbled, “You will.” A very slow smile stretched across Bowser’s snout.

The koopa king was staring deep into his soul and it made Luigi’s face heat up. They walked wordlessly side by side down the quiet castle corridors. Luigi wondered vaguely if these halls were usually this vacant or if Bowser had cleared them in advance.

“I could find my way to the principessa’s room on my own,” he quietly pointed out.

Bowser hummed, then admitted, “Yeah…guess I didn’t think about it that way. But,” he stared straight ahead, “you’re ambassador. We don’t want you getting lost.”

“Hmph.”

They came to a halt at Peach’s suite. Luigi opened the door, turning back, realizing Bowser had stopped in the hallway.

“Well, um…” he blushed. “I guess…I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Mhm,” Bowser nodded, leaning forward. Luigi could feel that hot breath on his face. Bowser’s nose wrinkled. “Definitely take a shower.”

“Hahahaha!” Luigi threw back his head and laughed, “Get out! I wanna get clean!” He shoved the koopa’s big head backward and closed the door. It was Bowser’s turn to laugh. That deep, booming voice carried all the way through the door.

“Dinner’s at six-thirty.”

“Okie Dokie!” he called back, immediately heading straight for the bathroom and the much-needed shower.

He sighed in relief as he used his fingers to massage shampoo into his scalp. He was finally starting to feel clean again. He wasn’t really sure how long he’d been here. He felt a little guilty. The water had been running for a while... the glass shower door and the mirror had fogged over. Though a cold shower had sounded nice after the heat of the dungeons, in the end, he’d settled for a lukewarm one to help his still aching muscles unwind. All that hanging around had really done a number on his arms and shoulders…He stood there for a few moments letting the water run down the front of his chest and hummed, happily, until he got a very familiar feeling.

He didn’t turn around but snapped over his shoulder.

“Really?! I thought even you were better than this.”

Boo’s laughter bounced off the bathroom tile.

“Grow up, Luigi, we’re both adults.”

“I didn’t invite you in here!” he pointed out, angrily, stopping the water and opening the door, without turning, so he could feel around with one hand until he found a towel to cover himself.

The ghost king just rolled his eyes as he floated past.

“What? It’s not as if I was even looking. I have absolutely no interest in what you puny little humans hide down there.”

“Bowser’s looking for you,” he said, matter-of-factly, clutching the towel securely around his waist.

“I know.” Boo floated upside down, smiling. “His little troops have been questioning every boo in the castle.”

“Then it’s-a only a matter of time till they find you.”

Boo giggled and followed Luigi out of the bathroom, looking like a strange little cloud floating on the steam. “Shows what you know, Luigi!”

“Stop following me! I have to get-a dressed!”

“I’ll turn my back. See?” the ghost teased, turning around and quickly becoming noncorporeal and invisible.

Luigi cursed at him. Boo jeered. Why hadn’t he thought of annoying the green plumber like this sooner? Luigi decided the best way to put Boo off was by ignoring him and making this boring. Ugh. How annoying. Just when they were having fun…

The towel-wearing human disappeared into the walk-in closet full of pink clothes. Boo started to follow, but suddenly the towel was flung in his face over his eyes and the closet doors had slammed shut.

“You’re lucky you didn’t paralyze yourself!” he said, loudly, to be sure Luigi could hear.

“Wasn’t trying to hurt you,” Luigi called back.

“Hell of a risk,” the ghost king grumbled.

The closet doors opened again. Luigi emerged.

“BWAHAHAHAHA! BWAHAHAHA!” Boo cackled, rolling in the air. The plumber crossed both arms over his chest. Sobering up from the outburst, Boo said, dryly, “You look ridiculous.”

Luigi tugged at the hem of pale-pink tennis dress. It was a little short, but it was nice and comfy. He didn’t exactly fancy one of the formal ones with all the clasps and laces and frills…It was too warm for that.

Knock. Knock.

The ghost king’s smile fell, and the marshmallow phased away through the floor. Phew. At least he was gone.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Yes, yes! One second!” Luigi called, tugging on some knee-high socks with little bows on them that he’d found in the closet. They weren’t his style at all, but he’d take what he could get. Once they were finally securely on his feet, he got the door. Ludwig was on the other side and greeted him with a chirp that made his chest tighten. It sounded scared.

“Ludwig? What’s-a wrong, piccolo musicista? Did something—”

Small golden claws clutched at him. They found the healing bruises around his wrists from the shackles and a youthful growl vibrated through the plumber.

“Piccolo, please…what…”

“He hurt you. Dad hurt you.” The blue-haired koopaling was distraught.

“What? No! No, Ludwig, I promise, I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re,” Ludwig hesitated, “you’re sure?”

“Si.” He nodded. “And I’m much better now I’ve had a shower. I was actually thinking that maybe—” he closed his mouth, that thought could wait. Ludwig looked nervous. The eldest koopaling was biting his bottom lip and the claws of Luddy’s right hand seemed to be playing chords on a non-existent instrument. “Ludwig, what’s bothering you?”

“I—” the teenager looked at the floor. “I heard dad let you out and…”

Luigi bent so their eyes were at the same level. “And?”

“CanIscentyou?”

Dark eyelashes blinked. It took Lu a second or two to parse the very quiet, very fast question, then he smiled and tugged the teenager into his arms. He rubbed his jaw against the top of Ludwig’s head. Luddy’s nervous tension shattered.

Flinging both arms around the plumber, he erupted with a relieved hiccupping purr as he buried his face in the crook of Luigi’s neck. The clean scent surrounded him. He pressed eagerly into the embrace. Just like the last time Luigi had held him, he felt warm and safe and…and…home. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. His claws tightened. Luigi petted his hair and hummed until his breathing steadied.

“Your father tells me you and Morton want me to stay here for a while. As-a family?”

“He,” Ludwig trembled softly, sounding awed. “He told you?”

“Si, piccolo. Is that really what you want?”

The assenting nod was instant and emphatic, but the words were a bit harder to get out. “Yes. Morton and I—you—we—we care about you. You’re important to us.”

Luigi smiled, shaking his head as he ruffled the kid’s hair. Teenagers.

“I love you too, piccolo. Now, where is your brother, hmm?”

“Go away. Morton no want to see anyone.” Morton shouted through his blankets at the door. He was burrowed as deep as he could in his nest, only the little hairs on the top of his head were poking out the top. He’d no idea if whoever was at the door would even hear. Evidently, they didn’t. A few moments later, he could hear someone moving around in his room. “Said go away! Dun wanna talk to no one.”

“Not even me, piccolo stella?”

He sprang up out of the nest in an instant, chirping and warbling delightedly.

“Weegee!” he flattened the poor human, tackling him in a hug. Ludwig acted just in time to drag the blankets out of the nest in time to cushion the fall. Luigi oofed, but then immediately chuckled and returned the eleven-year-old’s enthusiastic hug.

“Miss me?” Lu asked, sweetly teasing. Morton answered honestly.

“Tons and tons!” He went in to scent the man, only to pause, nostrils flaring. He looked at Luddy. Luddy blushed. Morton smiled, gently. His tail wagged, his voice dipping to a whisper, “Thank you, Weegee.”

“Hmm? For what, Morton?”

“Luddy not good at asking for hugs and scenting. Gets embarrassed.”

“Morton!” the eldest hissed, cheeks turning red.

Luigi chuckled. Morton rubbed his face against the plumber’s face and neck, adding his scent to Ludwig’s with a contented purr. Then after a few minutes of cuddles, he finally noticed what Luigi was wearing. He puffed air out his nostrils and frowned.

“Why you wearing Peach dress?”

“Well, piccolo, after three days in the dungeon, my clothes were filthy. Actually, I was hoping you and your brother could-a help. You see, your father is expecting me at dinner, and I’d really rather not wear-a this. Your-a sister makes-a clothes, si? Do you think you could—”

Morton was already on his feet and eagerly hoisting the human up by the arm.

“Luddy! C’mon! Take Luigi to Wendy’s workshop!” he said, grabbing his big brother’s hand and pulling them both toward the door as they laughed.

When the door to her sewing room opened, she glanced away. The enchanted needle and thread kept right on going with the jacket seam. Roy’s entrance was quiet, subdued, but she could tell from the way he shifted his weight around restlessly that he wasn’t ready to talk. She went back to her project. Every minute or so, she’d glance up to check on him. It wasn’t till about six minutes later that he came to stand beside her project table to have at look at her work. He didn’t seem to like it, but he didn’t hate it either. She’d treat that as a victory for now.

“What do you think about the color? Too much?”

Roy hummed.

“It’s still nice. Probably go good with red, yeah?”

She chirped appreciatively. Even though he didn’t share her interest, he’d developed a fairly decent fashion sense of his own through exposure. He put careful thought in whenever she asked for his opinion, and that meant the world to her. She was about to ask what was up when he blurted it out.

“Dad’s says Greenie’s comin’ to dinner.”

“Yeah, I know, he came to by to tell me after breakfast.”

“Yeah,” Roy nodded, “Me too.”

A little lull happened. She waved her wand over the jacket and the needle and thread began stitching the next seam in accordance with her pattern. She set it down and turned to confront her brother head-on.

“And?”

“’M not sure how I feel about it.”

“Okay.” At least now she had a place to start. “Thoughts?”

“Hmph. Luddy and Morton won’t tell me anything and Dad’s still got teams looking for Boo.”

She huffed, sympathizing with his annoyance on that last one.

“I know. I keep hearing them chasing other boos down the halls shouting questions.”

He crossed his arms, growling softly. “What do you think happened?”

“No idea. I’m hoping we’ll find out tonight.”

“Ugh. I wish they’d just talk to us!”

Her eyebrows dipped sympathetically, and her lips pressed together, highlighting her dimples.

“I know…” she clicked softly, “They will when they’re ready.”

“Hmph,” Roy scoffed, “Doubtful. You know how Luddy is…and Morty’s not much better.”

“Just—try giving them a little space. Lean too hard, too fast, and they’ll just push back.”

“Yeah, I know.” He lamented, “I’m just going stir-crazy!”

She understood. She’d spent the last few days busying herself with her sewing and jewelry projects to avoid feeling the same way, but even she’d been struggling. Dad and Kamek had both refused to answer her questions about the metal family feud—and everyone else’s—for that matter. She’d tried going to Ludwig to ask what had happened but had found him in the music room playing a melody so foreboding and riddled with anxiety that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to interrupt. She should probably go and check on him. He’d disappeared right after breakfast…

No sooner had the thought occurred, than the door opened again. Morton chirped ecstatic greetings. They both leant forward. Roy’s tail started to wag, relieved to not only see the gray koopaling out of his room, but full-on smiling, then the reason for that smile became clear and the wag ceased. Wendy could see the muscles in Roy’s arms tightening, she went over and patted his bicep, reassuringly. Luigi and Ludwig respectfully waited at the threshold.

Morton wasn’t very surprised to see Roy there. Wendy had to give him credit, though, he recognized the big koopaling’s uneasiness at once and went to hug his brother tight. It was the right thing to do. Roy relaxed considerably, and she was free to approach Luigi on her own. She stopped about three feet away, head pulled back and eyebrows rising.

“Pink is not your color.”

“Ah,” Luigi seemed relieved, not offended, “Si! It is not, but la principessa’s closet is-a a bit monochromatic.”

She snorted as she picked up her wand, “Understatement of the century.”

“I would rather not wear this to dinner, piccola principessa. I was wondering if you would mind letting me use some of your materials to—Whaa!” Luigi jumped as he was suddenly accosted by a floating measuring tape. It began taking all his measurements. Next to the lines on the tape glowing gold notation appeared with the number and type of measurement: neck, chest, waist, in-seam, etc. He blushed a little but did his best to stand still.

When it was done, the tape floated back to Wendy. She snatched it out of the air and had a look.

“Alright, is a dress okay?”

Luigi’s cheeks reddened, “Principessa, please, don’t go to any trouble on my account! I can—”

“Oh, come on! I never get to make anything for anyone ever!” she stomped her foot, immensely displeased.

Eyes widening, Luigi made eye contact—or at least, felt like he made eye contact—with Roy. The big koopaling was not happy with him for upsetting her. And if she really wanted to make him something to wear, then…

“Mi dispiace, Wendy. Of course, I would love to wear anything you make. I was just asking to do it because I really don’t want to take your time away from whatever you’re—” he eyed the jacket on the work table. Her pouting face was split by a smile. She waved off his concerns.

“Oh, this? Just a little side venture. Testing something out.”

“It looks very nice. The color is-a very striking. It will look fantastic paired with red.”

“Huh,” she shot Roy a warm smile, remarking, “You’re the second person to suggest that today.”

“Then your brother has-a good taste, hmm?” Luigi grinned warmly.

“He tries,” she teased.

Roy rolled his eyes. Wendy went into the drawers of her sewing station, rifling through her patterns for something relatively simple that she could whip together in a few hours. She nodded toward the far wall where she had shelves upon shelves filled with bolts of cloth.

“Pick out something you like, hmm?”

Luigi went to have a look and Ludwig followed. The man had to slide past Roy and Morton. Close enough for the bigger koopaling to catch a whiff. What the…

Behind dark sunglasses, Roy’s eyes bugged. Morton’s scent on the human, he still wasn’t super fond of that, but he’d learned to expect it by now. Ludwig, though…Ludwig?! His hand shot out and caught Luddy by the arm.

‘You scented him?’

Wendy stopped rustling in the drawer and looked up, mouth falling open when she saw Roy was speaking to Ludwig of all koopas. Luddy started growling. She chirped sharply at the pair of them to calm down. The growl ceased. Luigi and Morton were both watching anxiously. Morton tried to soothe Roy with a purr and another hug, but the big guy shook him off.

‘What are you trying to do?’

‘He’s family,’ Morton rumbled, softly.

It was Roy’s turn to growl. He advanced on Luigi and was stunned when Luddy suddenly came between them. Normally, he’d have immediately backed off, but—

‘You’re powerless without a wand.’ He watched the blue haired koopaling’s claws flex, and his eyes grew impossibly wider. Luddy was prepared to fight without it…a fight the eldest would lose. Roy’s strength at hand-to-hand combat was unrivaled. ‘You’re serious?!’

Roy felt even more muddled than before. Luigi was wriggling more and more into his life, and he really didn’t know how to feel about it. Fine, so he’s good for Morton, and Larry seems to like him fine. They’re little and lonely and like anybody kind enough to give them attention without judging or fearing them for who their dad is…but Ludwig…

‘He’s my family. He doesn’t have to be yours.’ Ludwig said, softly, eyes asking him to try and understand, ‘But I won’t let anyone hurt him. Not you, not dad, not grandfather…not anyone.’

‘When Dad finds out—’ His beak wrinkled.

‘Dad already knows.’ Luddy’s chest puffed out, bravely. ‘I told him.’

Roy stared, mouth opening and closing a few times. Before he could find any further words, Green’s whiny voice interjected.

“Piccoli, let’s all take a deep breath and calm down, si?”

“I’m not just gonna trust you because they do,” Roy said, lowly.

So that’s what this is about, the plumber thought. He nodded and offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

“I do not expect you to, and I would never ask that of you, Roy.”

“What about Mario?” He asked, recalling his last conversation with the man.

“What about him?” Luigi countered.

“What happens when you’re not angry at him anymore?” Roy’s fangs worked his lip, “You said you were mad, but that you still cared. You’re gonna forgive him eventually, so what then? You go back to the mushroom kingdom and leave my brothers in the dust?!”

Morton whined, crestfallen. Ludwig’s claws tightened into fists.

“Luigi wouldn’t do that.” The eldest said, but even as he said it, his voice was trembling.

Luigi bolstered him, standing behind the blue-haired koopaling and putting both hands on Luddy’s shoulders. Despite this, though, the green Mario brother’s eyes didn’t leave Roy’s face.

“Mario has-a his own life to live, piccolo notte. He doesn’t need me around all-a the time anymore. I might go back to visit for a while, but that’s-a all. I like my life in the dark lands and my house in the valley,” under his breath he added, “when it’s not overrun with-a ghosts…” then he raised his voice a little, “I will never hurt your brothers. I refuse to harm you. Any of you. Ever again.”

“And if you had to choose between us and Mario?”

“Please don’t make me do that, Roy,” Luigi whispered.

Roy just took that as confirmation and growled. “I knew it.”

Shrewd blue eyes narrowed. He flung the question back at Roy with one key change.

“Wendy or Morton?”

“W-what?” Roy asked, tail twitching madly.

“You choose.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Luigi posited, sternly, knowing the koopaling would finally understand what he was asking.

Wendy and Morton looked at each other. She went over and hugged the gray koopaling’s arm. Much as she knew Roy would hate her for saying it…

“He’s right, Roy. Asking him to do that isn’t fair.”

“Fine,” He harumphed and capitulated. “But you better not mess up my family, got it?”

“Believe me, piccolo,” Luigi sighed, “Your father and I will do our very best to keep things as they are.”

Roy raised an eye-ridge, “You talked to dad about this?”

Wendy took things into her own claws. It was high time they moved on from this conversation. She patted Morton’s arm and went back to looking at dress patterns till she found something that should work. She glanced up at Luigi, noting the places Peach’s tennis dress hugged him and making sure that the pattern she’d chosen would work with his body type. Yes. This one will work nicely…

“Of-a course. For the time-being I will be staying here at the castle.”

“How long?”

“No idea.”

“Here!” Wendy announced, unrolling the pattern she’d chosen on her worktable, ushering Luigi over to look. “What do you think?” She and Roy made eye contact for a brief second after the human joined her and she shot him a pointed glance. He sighed but nodded and went to make himself comfortable on the other side of the room in his usual chair.

Morton excitedly went over to look, too, but frowned when he saw the weird collection of shapes.

“This a dress?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Luigi giggled, “Si, piccolo stella. This is what a dress looks like before it is all sewn together.”

“Well?” Wendy prompted.

“Ah! It’s very nice, piccola principessa. Are you sure you’ll have time to finish it before dinner?”

“Oh yeah. It’s super simple with that off-the-shoulder neckline. Go on and pick a material you like. You’ll find the greens in the middle there.” She pointed.

The human whistled, “Wowie zowie, what a selection!” He got right to looking, starting with the pale and light greens. Ludwig and Morton joined him. Luigi showed them a couple that he liked and asked their opinion.

“Too thick,” Morton said, “Fuzzy fabric too warm. Luigi overheat. Luddy says lava is too hot and if humans get too hot, they die.”

Luigi patted the star-faced koopaling’s head.

“Don’t-a worry, Morton. As long as I have plenty of-a water and don’t spend too long in the heat, I’ll be fine.”

“Hmmm, okay, but that one still too thick.”

“Hahaha, okie dokie, piccolo stella.”

“How about this?” Ludwig asked, softly, holding out a bolt of dark green satin. Morton reached out to feel it and purred, nodding.

“Yeah! Soft and cool!”

“It’s beautiful…” Luigi said, joining Morton in feeling the texture as it slipped between his fingers. He frowned, softly, “But we should choose something else. This fabric is-a very expensive. I couldn’t ask your sister to use it on a dress for me. That wouldn’t be—”

“Wendy!” Morton said, taking the bolt and running off with it before the plumber could protest anymore. “What you think? Good choice?”

“Excellent, Morton. You and Luddy might just have some fashion sense after all!” She patted his plastron, her tail wagging when her little brother purred and nuzzled her. “Go on and set it over there. I have to get the working pattern ready!”

“Can stay?” he asked, nervously.

She smiled, sweetly. “Of course you can stay, but it might be a little boring. There won’t be much for you to do.”

“How can I-a help?” Luigi asked, eagerly, his passion showing in his eyes. Wendy grinned, ecstatic to finally have someone around to share her passion with.

“Let’s talk length.”

Chapter Text

Six-thirty. He had told Greenie to be here at six-thirty, hadn’t he? He huffed and eyed the right side of the regal dining table which was entirely vacant. Most nights, Junior threw a fit if anyone else sat next to the koopa king, but tonight his youngest was…well…suffice it to say his little namesake was taking the news of the green Mario being invited to join them rather badly. Tonight, Larry was on Bowser’s left, then Junior, then the twins. Lemmy, Iggy, and Larry exchanged low whispers in hatch language, while Junior leaned back in the chair and pouted. He and his son made eye contact. Those beady black eyes were still brimming with betrayal. Bowser was about to remind the prince to be on best behavior when the doors burst open. Morton and Ludwig were followed in by a lean figure in a simple dark green gown being pursued by Wendy, who was exclaiming:

“I said wait! I’m not quite finished with the hem! Just hold still for two seconds!!!”

Luigi indeed stopped moving, but not from what Wendy said. Glittering red eyes momentarily paralyzed him with their intensity. He tried to give a little bow or a curtsy or something somewhere in-between but stopped mid-way through at Wendy’s harsh rebuke.

“S-so sorry we’re late, il mio re. You said six-thirty and—”

“And you’re done!” Wendy announced, poofing the needle and extra thread away with her wand.

Blushing, he thanked her again.

“I can’t thank you enough, piccola principessa!”

She giggled, “Oh, don’t start! You look a million times better in this than that ugly tennis dress anyway!”

“Well, come on, green bean.” Bowser rumbled, ushering the man over. “Have a twirl. Let me see my little designer’s handiwork.”

“Si!” Luigi obliged, smiling proudly. “She’s really talented! Why, if I were half as good at making-a clothes at her age, I’d be a top fashion designer by now!”

“Dad…” Wendy said, her cheeks reddening a little from Luigi’s compliments and from her dad so obviously fishing for them on her behalf. Morton filed in to sit on Bowser’s immediate right, greeting his father with a chirp. Bowser answered with a truncate rumbling purr. Ludwig steered Luigi into the next chair so that the human was sandwiched between the two of them. Wendy sat next to the eldest, and Roy took the seat next to her. The little fashionista’s blush having finally faded, she said, “It’s not that big a deal…besides, I couldn’t have done it without Luigi. He sewed the neckline by hand and helped me do the—”

“Looks stupid.”

All faces briefly turned the crown prince’s direction. Everyone acknowledged Junior’s hostility. Iggy, Larry and Lemmy all shot him nervous glances, while the other siblings mostly frowned or in Ludwig’s case, glared daggers at the youngest with his eyes. Bowser growled, giving the kid a stern look.

“Don’t talk that way about your sister’s work, Junior. She doesn’t insult your art. You don’t get to insult hers.”

Junior’s little beak snapped shut and he crossed his arms over his plastron. Black eyes glared at the green Mario.

“Wasn’t talking about the dress.”

The air curdled into uncomfortable silence. Bowser’s glare silenced Junior for now. The entrees floated clockwise along the table, and they all began taking turns lining their plates with food. Luigi should have been hungry. Starving, even, after three days in the dungeon, but now he struggled to remember his appetite.

Ludwig noticed at once. The blue-haired koopaling started putting a matching helping of everything he got for himself on Luigi’s plate.

Click, chirp, click, click, trill.

Morton half-smiled and clicked back, facing Luigi with his tail thumping against the chair.

“Larry says he thinks Luigi looks nice.”

The corner of the man’s lips curled, quirking the signature mustache. His eyes glimmered with a hint of their usual sparkle as he smiled wanly. Bowser was glad. The king nodded and hummed agreement, which solidified the smile. There was a furtive bout of eye contact between the pair of them. Luigi’s cheeks flushed and Bowser puffed steam out his nostrils.

Wendy lowered her fork and her eyebrows rose to the top of her head. Am I seeing things? She wondered. Or does it almost seem like…

Bowser noticed Ludwig piling food on Luigi’s plate and remembered he had something important to address with his eldest.

“Luddy,” he called, and the kid’s head snapped up to look at him. “Got somethin’ for ya. Was savin’ it for your coming of age, but after…” he sighed, his shoulders drooping, guiltily. He ran a hand through his fiery red hair. “I was a jerk, kiddo, and breakin’ your wand like that went too far. Way too far. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is: this is yours. Careful. Don’t get food on it.” He pulled a long, ornate case from his shell and passed it to Morton, who passed it along to Luigi, who handed it reverently to Ludwig. The blue-haired koopaling hesitated. Bowser’s eyebrows urged the teen onward.

“Well? Go on!”

Ludwig pushed his dinnerplate back and lay the box on the table. All his siblings, even Junior—who was pretend-pouting—leaned forward craning their necks for a better view. Wendy gasped. Luigi’s lips parted. The human shot Bowser a surprised look. Luddy’s fingers trembled as he reached into the antique case and removed the ornate wand inlaid with pearls. He gawked at the king.

“Is—is this—m-my father’s?”

One corner of Bowser’s mouth lifted.

“Sure is. It was a little worse for wear after...ahem...after the accident, but I had it restored because I thought you might want it someday. It’s a family heirloom. Dates back to Ghrod’s rule. Baroness Leapold von Koopa commissioned it from a master wandmaker as a birthday present for her eldest daughter. But, if you'd rather have a new one, I'd be happy to-”

"No! I...I love it. Thank you."

Ludwig swished it. Light burst from the tip and everyone’s eyes rose to watch little fireworks shoot overhead and explode into crackling bursts of color. Luigi clapped.

“Bellissimo! How’s it feel, piccolo musicista?”

“It’s strong!” Luddy’s tail was wagging. He was overjoyed and bouncing with excitement. “I’ll have to spend some extra time in the training room with Kamek to make sure I can control it.”

“Hmph! Thought you were ‘sposed to be good at magic,” Junior sneered.

Luigi was worried there was going to be a fight, but instead of growling, Ludwig smirked, snootily.

“Says the kid who lit his own bed on fire.”

Junior’s face turned scarlet.

“Why, you…”

Wendy giggled and joined in.

“Remember that one time he caught the corner of Kamek’s robes when he sneezed?”

“Kammy! Kammy, you old crone! Put it out! Put it out! Put it out!” Roy chimed in with a surprisingly good impression of the old magikoopa. Luigi had the good sense to hide his snort of laughter behind his hand.

Bowser chuckled along, but he could see his son’s claws curling and digging into the table, so he gently urged them to ease off.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

They were all surprised when Morton’s thick voice grumbled, “Junior just wishes he had a wand.”

“I do not!” the little prince crowed, defensively.

“Do too. Junior always saying wishes could do magic like Kamek.”

“Shut up, Morton! No one asked you!”

“Hey!” Bowser tried. Morton stood up and his chair fell over with a bang.

“No! Morton no shut up! Junior being mean for no reason!”

“Piccolo stella, please,” Luigi tried to be a voice of reason, but it just reminded Junior what he was really angry about in the first place.

“No one asked you, either, Green Mario! We don’t even want you here! My dad did the mushroom kingdom a favor joining your alliance. He could have destroyed you all!”

“Junior!” Bowser’s voice rose when the kid stood up, embers and smoke coming out his nose. “We talked about this. If you can’t behave yourself, I will send you to your room!”

“That might be best.” Ludwig said, softly.

Junior’s chest puffed out and those beady black eyes narrowed sharply, honed in on the eldest.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“Junior,” the green Mario brother he loathed so much had the gall to speak to him, “please calm down. Let’s eat, si? You must be very hungry after-a painting all day.”

“How’d you know I—” he huffed. Little clouds of steam billowed out his nostrils. Ugh! Greenie tricked him! That had to have been a wild guess and he'd just gone and told the guy it was true! No fair! He plopped back down in his chair and snapped up his fork, stabbing the meat on his plate with all the aggression he longed to use on the green bean. “Fine, but it’s not ‘cuz I’m listening to you!”

“Of-a course not, piccolo.”

Bowser watched Junior closely, marveling slightly when even the vegetables were finished without a single complaint. ‘How did you do that?’ he mouthed to Luigi whilst Iggy was explaining the results of his most recent experiments with radiofrequency on the visibility of boos in the castle.

The human smiled between bites of roast beef before holding a finger over his lips and mouthing back: ‘Secret.’

Secret, hmm? Luigi’s attention was stolen away by Lemmy, who asked the plumber how they handled ghosts in the human world. Bowser was a little interested to hear the human world didn’t have ghosts, but when Luigi’s head turned to answer a follow-up question from Roy, he couldn’t help but follow the curve of the neck down to Luigi’s clavicle. The dress really was nice. So perfectly effortless. Blue eyes very briefly caught him staring. He tried to look away, but after a few seconds ended up peeking back over. Luigi was still glancing his way, light remnants of a blush still dusting those olive cheeks.

Green sitting at the table making friendly conversation with his kids, eating and getting along amicably, with the exception of Junior, it felt almost…natural. Bowser interjected on the most recent leg of the conversation with a question of his own regarding this radio technology, which Iggy readily answered, with a bit of context from Luigi on history and application of radio waves in the human world.

Dinner went on…and on. And on and on and on and on. At least, that’s how it felt to Junior. His anger was bubbling up higher with every passing moment. ALL of his siblings were actually talking to the green Mario brother! Even Larry! Morton was translating, but still! And Ludwig was smiling! And Dad kept staring at Green Mario whenever the guy spoke! WHY? Now Morton was going on and on about Green Mario’s house…when had Morton even been to the human’s stupid house, anyway?!

“Wendy shoulda seen! Luigi made really pretty green dress with skirt that looked like flower petals!”

‘Yeah!’ Larry nodded, ‘Really pretty! Like a princess!’

“Nuh-uh. Luigi even better than a princess!” Morton said, enthusiastically.

“Aww, thank you, but really, I’m just-a me and that’s how I like it.” Luigi cooed, petting the star-faced koopaling’s head and getting a deep purr and a fast tail wag. Unfortunately, the sweet moment didn’t last long. Seeing the gentle warmth Green Mario had toward all his siblings had rubbed the koopa crown prince the wrong way. Little by little the normal sounds of dinner ceased until only Junior’s furious growl remained.

Luigi started to pull away from Morton, but the big gray koopaling wouldn’t have it and stayed close. Morton’s own growl was so much deeper and more powerful Junior’s that it swallowed it up.

“Junior jealous. He just wants attention!”

“You—” he blinked back angry tears, seeing an entire table of disapproving faces. Why?! Why had everyone turned against him?! His tiny claws became fists, “You’re all just showing off for the Green Mario! I don’t care what you guys think!” he stomped up on the table, kicking the plates and some of the entrees out of his way, as he advanced toward the plumber across from him. His little black eyes were brimming with bitterness. “I hate you! I wish you never came here! And I wish you and Mario were both dead!”

“Junior!” Bowser sprang to his feet, momentarily too stunned to act. He looked into his son’s eyes, so much like his late wife’s, and saw how badly he’d failed his little one. All that time chasing Peach’s under the pretext of finding them a new mom, when really it was his loneliness, his desperation fed toward an unattainable goal and this was where it had led…He should have been there for Junior. All he’d done was pull the kid down a path full of growing anger without a proper outlet…

Luigi stood up and looked from father to son, before bowing his head.

“I think maybe this isn’t the best time for me to be here. I’ll see myself out.”

“Morton go with Luigi!” the gray koopaling declared, frowning coldly at his little brother, which was the last straw. Junior exploded.

“Stop taking his side!”

“Luigi is good! Junior is WRONG!” Morton shouted back. The room went drop-dead silent. The uneasy shifting and scrambling of the other siblings ceased. They’d never heard Morton shout like that before. They held their collective breath.

Junior’s eyes filled with tears. A few of them escaped and his voice took on a fevered pitch.

“SHUT UP!”

All chairs of everyone still seated scraped the floor at the same time as Junior’s mouth opened and a bright blast of magic burst forth aimed right at Morton. It happened so fast the gray koopaling didn’t even have time to brace himself. A whirling green blur shoved him back a step. He screeched, terrified.

Luigi staggered, knocked to the floor as the projectile struck him and burst…with a splash. His mind blanked. His body locked. One moment he was pushing Morton back and the next, he could hardly feel his own limbs. He gasped like he hadn't breathed in a million years, hyperventilating. Numbly, he looked down at his soaking wet dress. In a few seconds that felt like years, he regained some semblance of control over his freezing body, and he looked out across the table at the other faces, his brain slowly interpreting what had just happened. Everyone was shocked, but none more than Junior.

The heir to the koopa throne mimicked Luigi and searched the faces surrounding them. They were all varying degrees of shock and disbelief. He was confused. That confusion snowballed into fear and panic and growing anxiety.

“I—that wasn’t my flame! What happened to my flame?! What’s wrong with me?! What’s happening?! Why’re you all looking at me like that?!” He spun toward his dad but found Bowser staring with lips parted and tears in his eyes. Dad was—I made Papa cry? I hurt him? He was overwhelmed. He wasn’t really angry anymore. He was scared. Tears streamed messily down his snout. They were all still staring. He ran the rest of the way across the table, jumped down, and ran, shoving past his shell-shocked siblings, desperate to escape their staring eyes. He was sobbing so loud, he didn’t even hear the green Mario calling out to his father.

“Bowser,” Lu called, but one look at the monarch’s haunted face told him the king wasn’t ready, so he took off after the little koopa prince, doing his best to ignore uncomfortably soaked fabric sticking and rubbing against his skin. He was probably the very last person Junior needed right now…but the kid needed someone.

Junior was too distraught to notice the wet footsteps slipping and sliding down the halls behind him. He fled straight to his room and flung himself headlong into his nest, crying and pulling the covers around himself.

Someone knocked less than thirty seconds after he’d successfully cocooned himself.

“Go away!” He shrieked, but whoever they were, they let themselves in.

“P-P-piccolo principe…”

“NO! Go away! You win! Everybody hates me!”

“I don’t hate you. And-a none of your siblings do either.” Luigi said softly, shivering.

“I upset dad. He was crying! All ‘cuz of me…”

“Piccolo…” Luigi had trouble keeping the shivers out of his voice. The water in that bubble was like fresh snowmelt. “That doesn’t mean he hates-a you. He loves you so much. You just scared and-a surprised him. That’s all.”

“What’s wrong with me?” Junior sobbed. “I-It already took so long to get my flame! And now—now—I’m weird! My powers are all wrong!”

“There is-a nothing weird or wrong with you, Junior.” Luigi placed his freezing hand over Junior’s blanketed head. The little koopa leaned into it with a mewling click and shuddered at how cold it was. Lu used the grip as gentle leverage to tilt the kid’s head up so Junior would look at him.

“You are wonderful and amazing, Junior. There is nothing wrong with you or your magic. You just didn’t know. And your Papa didn’t know either. No one-a did.”

“They were upset…”

“They were just-a shocked, that’s-a all.” Luigi realized he was being a little over-generous there. The others were upset with Junior’s behavior, but reprimand for that shouldn’t come from him.

“But there’s something wrong with me! I should have spat up a fireball, but—”

“Instead, it was-a water, piccolo, like your mama.”

“My,” teary eyes like polished obsidian filled with tiny stars, “My mama?”

“Si, Junior. Just like your Mama.” Luigi cupped that adorable little face with both hands. Junior didn’t even care that they were cold because he was beginning to understand.

“I remind Papa how much he misses Mama. That’s why he was sad.”

“Piccolo, that is not your fault,” the man’s voice was stronger than steel. “Do not ever think that because your father misses her, he loves you any less. You and-a your siblings…you are his entire world.” Blue eyes were completely sincere and without a shred of doubt. Junior warbled appreciatively and stood, taking his blankets with him, and nuzzled against the human’s side.

“Principe…are you feeling better?”

Junior nodded.

“Good. Why don’t we go back to the dining-a room and check on your father?”

Again, Junior nodded, wiggling his arms free of the cocoon to hold them up, expectantly. Luigi scooped him, blankets and all, feeling a little bad for getting the covers all damp, but there was nothing he could do about that. He cooed and hummed and rubbed gentle circles into the blankets covering that spiked green shell all the way back.

Numbness had frozen the koopa king solid. He was still struggling to believe his own eyes, but he was slowly coming back to his senses. Luigi had cried out to him, blue gaze begging him to go after the son that needed him and…he couldn’t. He was incapacitated. Entirely breathless. Clubbed over the head by a picture from the past. The day they met…feeling so sure of himself, taking a deep inhale, about to unleash the true might of his flame on her and suddenly her mouth had opened, issuing a bubble reflecting the light all around them that hit him and…

He shook the memories away, still reeling. The koopalings had erupted into whispers and nervous glances. Seemed they were discussing what to do. He just stared at the chair Junior had left vacant, scowling. Why? Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Junior’s flame was late. Much later than most. He should have known. He should have at least suspected. Or even thought to ask. He heard a pair of pops nearby and saw that the kids had summoned Kammy and Kamek. His ears resumed working in time to realize they were all recounting the events that had just occurred at the same time, speaking over each other in anxious and frantic tones. The magikoopas were trying their best at urging silence and begging them to go one at a time, but no one could contend with such a wall of cacophonous voice.

He got to his feet, slamming both his palms on the table and quiet fell. His lips formed words that sounded dry and hollow like another person was saying them.

“He has her magic.”

Kammy and Kamek exchanged sideways glances, then stared at the King, dubiously.

“What?” Kamek asked. Bowser’s eyes were hazy. He looked broken. Which would mean, could only mean he meant…

“Junior has her magic,” he repeated, volume dropping to near-whisper.

Before anyone had time to respond to that, the doors were kicked open. All heads turned.

Luigi’s wet socks squeaked in his shoes as he crossed the tile, leaving a trail of dripping water behind him. Bowser’s eyes brightened upon seeing the familiarly spiky blanketed bundle in his arms. He crossed to the head of the table and presented the little guy to the king, only letting go once he was sure Bowser had the bambino cradled securely.

Junior started shaking with fresh sobs seeing his father’s face above him.

“I’m sorry, Papa.”

“I know,” Bowser rumbled. He pulled his precious son close to his chest, issuing a cross between a purr and a growl, “But I think there’s someone else you need to apologize to.”

Junior looked at the green Mario and bit his lip, eyes tearing up all over again. He’d been so mean…and then…and then…the green one had been nothing but nice to him…

“I’m sorry, Green Mario.”

“Luigi,” the green Mario said, softly, with a shivery smile. “My name is-a Luigi, piccolo principe.”

“Sorry, Luigi.”

“Thank you, Junior.”

Pressing close to his father’s plastron, little claws curling around his blankets, he murmured, “Really am.”

“I know, bambino. I forgive you. Let’s try to be friends from-a now on, okie dokie?”

“Mhm…o-okie-dokie,” he whispered, hiding his face even more. He felt tired and embarrassed and he was still scared…really scared, because… “Papa, do I really got yours and Mama’s powers?”

“Looks that way, kiddo,” Bowser said.

“B-but…does that mean…Y-you s-said her magic w-was t-too weak when she got sick…d-does that mean t-that if I get sick again…Papa,” Junior’s sob rent the terrible silence that had fallen around them, “I’m scared.”

Luigi felt as thought he’d swallowed a boulder. Seeing those words reduce the koopa Luigi had once seen as nigh on indestructible to a broken shell of a man cradling the only child of the woman he’d loved with terror in his heart—it cracked something inside the younger Mario brother. He watched with bated breath and waited on tenter hooks for something…anything…desperate for an answer.

“No. Junior—” Bowser choked, but pushed his voice through the break, “You listen to me. No matter what happens, I’m not going to lose you, understand? Last time you got sick, you beat it. You kicked its butt.”

“Yeah, but if it comes back…”

“Then you’ll kick its butt again. For good.”

“But what if my magic isn’t strong enough?”

“It is strong enough!” Bowser shouted a fraction too loudly. Everyone flinched. Junior’s eyes widened and he whimpered. “It was strong enough last time and you were just a baby,” the king murmured, a harsh edge in his voice, “You’re much stronger now. Besides, you have my flame, too. It’s okay, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Really?”

“Really. You’re so strong. Stronger than I’ll ever be.” He nuzzled his namesake with tears in his eyes. “Strongest koopa I’ve ever known.”

Junior’s purr brought the light back to the haunted red eyes just before they slipped closed and two tears ran down Bowser’s regal snout. For all Bowser’s outer strength, Luigi could feel the dread still bubbling beneath the surface and his shivers intensified. Suddenly, he realized his nose was running and he wiped it with the back of his wrist. There was little else to do be done about it, unfortunately. Brrr. He shuddered. Junior's safe, he repeated to himself. Junior's going to be okay. Junior will be fine…why did his brain feel like it was fogging over?

S-so c-c-cold…

“Luigi?” small claws attempted to grab his arm, only to draw back with a hiss and a chirp of alarm. “Luigi!”

The plumber turned far too slowly and seemed surprised to see him. Ludwig reached inside his shell for his new wand and summoned some dry towels, wrapping them tightly around the trembling human. His cry had gotten the attention of the others. Kammy and Kamek both hovered toward them, using their wands to appraise Luigi’s condition. Dad’s face went blank. Junior whined and sobbed.

“D-did I hurt him? It’s all my fault…”

Ludwig ignored his little brother for now, speaking directly to Kammy and Kamek. “He’s not supposed to be that cold, right?”

“Indeed not. It would seem he’s struggling to thermoregulate,” Kamek said, gravely, drying the plumber’s clothing with a single spell, “That takes care of the clothes, but he needs warming up. Slowly.”

Bowser was startled when Junior wriggled free of his arms and climbed down, dashing over to their side. Ludwig tensed, but the youngest pushed right on past and closed his eyes, concentrating hard. Smoke and sparks started coming out his little nose. He blew them out, then stepped forward and tried his best to wrap the bean pole in those tiny arms.

Only then did the king realize what his son was trying to do. Ludwig intervened, attempting to pry Junior away. The crown prince protested, whining.

“No! It’s my fault! I gotta fix him!”

The king stepped forward, clicking gently for Ludwig to let Junior go. He stepped forward and lifted Green up, one arm cradling the shaking shape against his plastron. Copying Junior’s idea, he let his flame pipe increase his own body heat to share with the plumber. Luigi looked up at him, dazedly.

“B-b-bowser?”

“You’re too cold. C’mon, let’s get you back to your room, hmm?”

“O-okie—d-d-dokie…” Luigi was like a living ice cube…and so damn small…

Junior and a few of the others tried to follow them. He frowned. “No. Kammy, stay here with the kids. Make sure everyone finishes their dinner. I want you all fangs brushed and in your rooms by bedtime, got it?”

A chorus of ‘yes, dad’s answered. Ludwig and Morton both looked worried.

“Kamek, with me,” he added. That didn’t seem to make them feel much better. He sighed. Morton chirped sadly.

“Papa make sure Weegee be okay?”

“Yeah, we’ll get him all warmed up and he’ll be better in no time. Okay kiddo?”

“Okay.”

Kamek floated down the hall after his son, frowning softly every time Bowser’s tail twitched anxiously. The giant koopa’s voice was thick and low when the king finally spoke.

“All that stuff Junior said.”

Yes. Kamek had expected that would be the first thing to come up.

“…it can’t happen…right?”

“Even our magic isn’t all-seeing,” he said slowly.

Grrrrrrrrr.

“But he survived last time. Surely if a disease like that ever returned to the kingdom…”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should know. Otherwise, what’s the point of you?!” Bowser boomed.

Kamek opened his mouth to respond when the need was suddenly erased. Bowser’s attention was stolen away by a soft, cold hand pressed on the king's plastron.

“Bowser…It’s-a okay to be scared.”

“But I can’t do anything! I can’t stand it! How am I supposed to keep going if I can’t do anything?!”

Green’s watery smile gripped him by the heart. He’d seen a smile just like that one. On the very worst day of his entire life. The day she…His heartbeat pounded in his ears. One claw rose to trace the contours of Luigi’s face before he could even really think about it or remember his dad was watching. He felt so fucking powerless…he was fighting a losing battle with the oncoming tears.

“How do I live like this, Green?” he begged, pleading for something, anything. Any kind of answer.

Ice-cold fingers shakily traced the lines on his plastron. That terrible smile widened.

“Same as everybody else, il mio re. One day at a time. One battle, one careful step, one breath at a time.”

He stopped walking and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath in. The human curled even tighter against him with an airy sigh of relief.

“You’re so warm,” the plumber murmured the tremble in the man’s squeaky voice making it sound on the verge of tears.

Bowser slowly exhaled, opening his eyes and looking down at the creature in his arms. How was it possible he’d never seen Greenie before that day in the throne room? And how had they gotten here? They’d barely spoken to each other, but somehow, Green knew how to counterbalance him—how to save him from tearing himself and his relationships with his family apart—Green knew…Luigi knew his pain. His red eyes widened, and his lips parted.

“Who’d you lose?” he rumbled, not really expecting an answer. He’d assumed that the little human’s blue eyes were closed because Luigi had fallen asleep. The unexpected one-word reply knocked the air out of his chest.

“Everyone.” Luigi sounded close to tears. Bowser instinctively cuddled the man tighter. Lu’s voice dropped to a level even he struggled to make out, “Mario’s all I have.” Another full-body shiver spurred the giant koopa into moving again. Sooner he got Green tucked safely away in a warm bed, the better. As he walked, he tried, inelegantly, to lighten the mood.

“Good thing I didn’t kill him, then.”

“Hehehe, si. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Hmmmmm…

“You’re welcome.”

Kamek floated wordlessly alongside them on his broom, marveling at all he’d heard and seen. To come this far without so much as a word or a nudge from Kammy or himself…Had they realized on their own? When they got to the human’s guest room and he watched Bowser carefully tucking Luigi into bed—laden with extra blankets and hot water bottles courtesy of himself—the old magikoopa felt certain they must have. When, though, he’d no clue. Bowser’s claws brushed a few errant curls off Luigi’s forehead before gently carding through the dark brown hair with a low purr. Kamek smiled just a little at the sight, but quickly had to school his expression when the king turned his way.

“Well?”

“Well, what, your terseness?”

“How is he? Do we—” Bowser looked at the human who was now soundly sleeping with eyebrows furrowed. “Should I stay with him?”

Kamek performed a quick assessment and hummed.

“His temperature and metabolic rates appear to have stabilized. I do not think he requires company, but if you’d like, I can go ahead and put up a hex that’ll alert me to any changes in his condition.”

Bowser nodded at once and purple magic traveled from the tip of the magikoopa’s wand to the sleeping Luigi. A little purple sigil glowed brightly over the man’s forehead for just a moment and a matching one appeared on the stem of Kamek’s wand before both faded from sight. The king of the dark lands still lingered, looking nervous as he stared at the expressionless sleeping face. Kamek sighed and floated down to put a hand on Bowser’s shoulder.

“Son, I’ll fetch you the second he wakes. For now, you should check on the little ones.”

Humming thoughtfully, Bowser slowly nodded. Kamek squawked, surprised when his son’s large head and jaw brushed against him but quickly purred and patted the side of that big, handsome face.

“Thanks, dad.”

Once he left, Kamek turned to take one last fleeting look at Luigi and murmured, “You’d best be alright.” He sighed. “With so much of the past come to haunt him…he needs you.” He lifted his wand. It glowed blue and he disappeared with a POP!

Chapter Text

Kamek’s sensitive eyes were accosted by a faint purple glowing light. His claws felt about his nightstand for his glasses and once found, brought them to his face. He sat up, groggily. Sleep-addled brain starting to clear, he realized there was only one thing it could be, and snapped up his wand, swishing away in a little poof without even changing out of his night clothes.

POP!

The room was dark. Kamek brought the lights up just enough to help him see. He could hear heavy breathing coming from the bed and he hurriedly hobbled over, hopping up for a better look. The human lay on one side, curled tightly into an almost ball, covers tightly wrapped around him. Only his head was poking out and the curly hair seemed to be sticking to his head. Luigi’s forehead was covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat. Kamek briefly placed a claw to his temple, only to withdraw it with a squawk of surprise. Too hot. Far, far too hot. The magikoopa pulled the covers down a little. The creature probably shouldn’t have so many blankets since he was already—Luigi whined in protest and pulled them right back up again.

“Nuh!”

“Luigi,” Kamek said, softly, hoping the human could hear him. “You have a fever. You are too warm.”

Luigi’s blue eyes barely opened as he tucked the covers tight around himself. Kamek tried to take them, but the human pleaded, desperately.

“N-no…so c-c-cold…”

“Kammy,” Kamek said, already dreading the earful he was about to get, but…

SNAP!

“…really?” her sleepy voice snapped at him. “Whatever it is, it couldn’t wait until—” she saw Luigi and the state he was in and Kamek moved aside to let her take over. Unfortunately, she came to the very same conclusion he had.

“He’s too hot. Fever.”

“Yes, but what do we do?” he asked.

She sighed. “Do I look like a human doctor to you?”

Luigi shuddered violently and she clicked her beak. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Go where?” Kamek asked, confused.

“Which one of us just woke up?” she asked, a bit bitterly, “The mushroom kingdom, obviously! If anyone knows how to care for sick humans, it would be them.”

“Take some magic potions,” Kamek murmured. “Teleporting there and back—oof!” she thunked him softly on the head with her wand.

“I’m tired, not senile! I’ll be fine. You sure you can hold down the fort on your own?”

“I…” he hesitated, eyeing the sick human and feeling his heart tightening in his chest. He’d promised to get the king if Luigi woke up or if anything changed. He was regretting that promise. Bowser had already been badly shaken by the revelation of Junior’s powers. Now…

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a hand clapping him on the shoulder. He was surprised his sister was still here. Shouldn’t she have taken off by now?

“Are you sure you can handle—” she began to repeat, and he suddenly realized why she hadn’t left.

“Yes. I’ll—I’ll manage.”

“Alright. I’ll get some help and hurry back as soon as I can.”

He nodded. With one last squeeze on his shoulder, she vanished in a puff of purple smoke. He waved it away as it threatened to tickle his nose and make him sneeze. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself as he raised his wand. Wish as he might, he couldn’t break his word. Not now. If…if Luigi’s status took a turn for the worst before he summoned his son, Bowser would never forgive him. Dammit. His teleportation spell glowed blue as it pulled his fiery-haired king’s giant form through the ether and allowed it to re-materialize at his side.

Bowser had been sleeping. He grunted when the warm cushy safety of his nest became a hard floor. The couple of sheets and blankets that managed to accompany fell by the wayside as he rose to his feet. Kamek’s expression was baleful as the king’s mind slowly caught up to his body. Bowser’s heart clenched in anguish as he recalled the subject of his dad’s solemn oath and realized precisely why he was here. Everything else ceased to matter, attention completely captured by the creature on the bed. Luigi was shaking. Bowser knelt at the bedside, one giant claw reaching to touch the man’s cheek. It was covered in a cold sweat. The skin was clammy. A tidal wave of rage brought on by sheer helplessness had him snapping at Kamek.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Fever.” Kamek answered, softly.

Bowser growled, reaching up to Green’s forehead to check. He hissed and drew his hand away. Yes. Far too hot. But this wasn’t like overheating. He had no idea what to do.

“What do we do?” he demanded.

“I…” Kamek swallowed, ashamed he had no answer to give. Silence fell. Bowser was staring at him, red eyes seemingly begging this was all some terrible nightmare to wake up from.

“…you do not know?” it hurt to even say the words. The king grimaced. Without consciously deciding to do it, his hand found Luigi’s and gripped it tight. “If it doesn’t break…what happens?”

“I do not know.” Kamek hated the pain in Bowser’s eyes, but unfortunately, “My knowledge of human health is precious little. Injuries I can heal, but illness like this requires deeper understanding. They are odd creatures. I’ve no idea if this will resolve itself or if it requires care, only that it seems dire.” that was as close to hope as he could offer.

“And Kammy?”

“On her way to the mushroom kingdom.” He didn’t have to explain beyond that. Bowser already understood, but the king’s expression was clouded.

“They have no reason to help us.”

Kamek’s fingers tightened on his wand. He hadn’t considered that, but—

“We are a member of their alliance. They have no choice.”

Things lulled into tense silence until…

“Dad.”

Kamek hobbled forward to touch Bowser’s shoulder where the king’s arms were outstretched. One of Bowser’s claws was still tracing Luigi’s facial features whilst the other tightly held the man’s hand. There was a bright sheen of tears in those proud eyes.

“I don’t even know how—” he choked, his eyelids closing sent the droplets cascading silently down his cheek. “Fuck, I didn’t want this. I can’t—”

The old magikoopa’s heart cracked in two when Bowser’s head leaned on him with a deep, broken croak of grief. He held it in his hands and softly purred, trying to bring comfort, trying to tell his son he was here and that there was always hope.

“I’m not strong enough,” Bowser whispered. “I can’t do this again. I can’t take it.”

“He’ll make it. He’s strong. You’ve seen the scars he bears,” he reminded, in the most soothing voice he could muster. “He has fought through pain inflicted by the undead. He should be dead a dozen times over, yet he is not. This fever will not do what the king of ghosts himself could not accomplish. I will not allow it.”

“You…you said you don’t know what to—”

“I do not, but I will everything in my power to keep him from dying.”

“Not…dying,” a very raw-sounding voice rasped.

“Green!” Bowser leant forward, cupping the side of the man’s face. Luigi grinned, though his face was still pained and his eyelids kept drooping like they were threatening sleep. “You have a fever,” Bowser said, whispering.

Luigi sighed with relief and leaned into the touch grinning.

“Takes heck of a lot more than that to kill-a me, mio re.”

“But what do we do?” Dammit, Luigi was bleary-eyed…

“S-stay,” those blue eyes were pleading him. Bowser couldn’t have said no even if he wanted to. Fortunately, he didn’t want to, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Yes.”

“Not gonna die.” Luigi repeated, seemingly sensing Bowser’s anxiety, but despite that, he said: “Hundred and-a four.”

“Huh?” Bowser asked, eyebrows wrinkling like thick caterpillars.

“L-long as it stays under…hundred and-a four, should be okie dokie.”

Red eyes sharpened.

“Kamek! What is—”

The magikoopa was already on it, his wand glowed as it hovered over Luigi’s forehead. “103.2”

Luigi offered the king a watery smile.

“See? I’ll be…” his eyes started to close, “fiiiiine…can’t get rid of-a me that easy…” Just like that he dropped off into sleep.

Kamek frowned and took a seat next to Bowser’s arm, prepared to monitor the human closely for the rest of the night at the very least. The king had a far-away look on his face as his fingers carded through the sweaty curls. The giant koopa’s heart was still struggling to reconcile how he truly felt. He stared at the unconscious human's face.

You were right, damn you. You fucking knew. How are you so good at knowing? It’s like your eyes see right through me. You beautiful, fantastic, annoying, infuriating, stubborn creature. Did you know when I asked you if we could just pretend it never happened that it was already too late? I bet you did. I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t even know how it happened, but it did and now…now you’re…Dammit, green. Now I’m stuck on you. But I can’t…I really can’t do this again. I thought—when I was chasing Peaches—I thought I was ready, but now…now it’s you and it’s so much more than I ever and fuck…I don’t think I can…I still…she was everything. I can’t. I’m not ready. I’m too big a coward. I can’t. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve…you don’t…

He remembered earlier, carrying Luigi to bed, that terrible smile. So much like the one etched into his scarred heart seven years ago.

It started two days before Junior’s egg hatched. Just a cough. Nothing to worry about. Kammy gave her something to help sooth her throat. It wasn’t helping. It should have been helping, but—Then Junior hatched. They were so happy. Nothing could dampen their spirits. Nothing on that day. Their son was a beautiful bright ball of scales. The very image of his father. It was she who insisted they call him Bowser Jr. The king wasn’t completely sold on the idea of another Bowser running around…seemed like things would get confusing.

“Then we’ll call him Junior for short.” Terre said, smiling brightly as she cradled her son in her arms, rubbing their noses together. ‘Junior’ made a series of happy clicks, tiny claws patting and curling around the edges of her face.

“I dunno,” Bowser rumbled non-committally, “I still think Flare or maybe—”

“Bowser Junior is better!” She argued, nuzzling the very active and happy hatchling with her face. “What do you think, little guy? Flare?” she asked. The little black eyes that were just like hers just blinked. The kid smiled. She smiled back. “or Bowser Junior?”

The kid gave a loud, happy whistle.

“See?” she said to her king husband, proudly. “He likes it!”

“He likes you,” Bowser grumbled, rolling his eyes, but physically unable to stop smiling.

“I’m telling you, when are you ever gonna get the chance to name a kid after you again, hmm?”

“I dunno,” his tail swished as he leaned in to kiss the side of her neck. His arms snaked their way around her. “Maybe the next one—”

“Oh no you don’t!” she laughed playfully. “We already have a little brood! You have to wait at least two years for the next one!”

Bowser purred, happily, snagging a few more kisses to the side of her face before she could wriggle away.

“I didn’t hear a no.”

“Mmmm, that’s because there wasn’t one, handsome.”

His purr deepened. “I love you.”

“And I you, my heart.” She smiled and bounded forward, Junior in her arms. “We should introduce him to his siblings! And his grandparents!”

“Love, he’s exhausted. We should put him down for a nap first,” he tried to reason with her. “He just spent hours chipping his way out of his egg, give the little guy a break.”

The bouncing hatchling was suddenly being dangled in front of him. He took the tiny, tiny form in hand so slowly and carefully that Terre laughed.

“Would you relax? You aren’t going to break him.”

“I just…he’s so small.”

‘Junior’ chirped and Bowser choked up a little. Those tiny, tiny infant hands patted his face. They were barely the size of the tips of his claws…His red eyes were huge and full of stars. The hatchling cooed at him and his heart melted into a puddle of lava-y goo. Terre’s giggles were interrupted by a peel of coughing. Bowser tucked his son safely into the crook of one arm. He cast his wife a nervous glance when her coughs worsened to hacking. They had this funny wheezy, echoing sound that worried him. She covered her mouth with her arm. After nearly a minute of this, he reached over to rub circles onto her arm. As it finally subsided, he suggested:

“Terre…maybe you should speak to Kammy again—”

“Bowser, please, I told you, I’m fine, I—” her husband’s shrill chirp of alarm had her muscles tensing up, “My love, what—”

He seized her arm, pulling it forward, looking terrified. She followed his gaze, and her scales prickled a little. There was blood on her arm where she’d covered her mouth. She’d…she’d…

After that it went quickly. Nothing Kamek or Kammy did seemed to help. He brought in the best doctors. No one seemed able to do anything. The disease had oddly magical and physical properties. A hybrid they hadn’t seen before…or since. Somehow, it only seemed to affect some koopas, not others. She wasn’t the only one, just one of the only cases bad and important enough to garner attention. He started getting reports from all quarters of the kingdom. Other koopas with the disease. He issued a kingdom-wide quarantine. Much as it broke his heart, they had to stay away from the other koopalings. They didn’t want to get them sick. Those had been the hardest days of his entire life. Watching his wife…his queen…the koopa he loved more than anyone…seeing her magic fade, her body wither. She wanted so badly to make it through, to see their son grow up, to kiss their little ones goodnight…and she’d lain in that bed and she’d looked up at him with that awful smile. The smile that said she was sorry.

“Bowser,” she’d barely been able to speak. Her fingers curled weakly against his own. “I…l-love you.”

“Terre…please.” The tears stung his cheeks. His heart was breaking. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. "I can’t…I can’t do this without you.”

Her forehead had rubbed his softly.

“Yes, you can. I know…you can…please…take care of Junior and…” she gasped, tears gathering, “our babies. P-please.”

“Terre…Terre…” he shook his head, begging, “I can’t…I—”

“Bowser, they need…you.”

“They need you, too!” he cried. “I need you! Don’t—don’t leave me…please.”

Her hand rose to pat his face as she smiled that terrible smile. He kissed it, never tearing his eyes from hers even as they dulled and glazed over, unseeing. One week ago, they’d welcomed their son into the world, and now…his queen was gone.

Chapter Text

The hand in Bowser’s gripped back. Not Terre’s. Smaller. He opened his eyes, looking down at the feverish face of the green Mario brother. Luigi’s blue eyes were watching him, eyelids still heavy and tired. Even now, in this state, there was a wealth of understanding in those eyes.

“Y’okay?” the human’s words were roughly slurred.

“Go back to sleep,” he grumbled.

“Yur upset.”

“Just thinkin’”

“’Bout her.” Luigi said, eyes closing for a second before blinking tiredly at him. He didn’t even bother asking how the green bean knew. Luigi knew. It simply was. And Bowser didn’t need to know to appreciate the fact that even whilst laid low by illness this creature retained capacity to be concerned about him.

“Go back to sleep, Green.”

Luigi sleepily guffawed, eyelids drooping in exhaustion even as he stubbornly declared: “You first”

Bowser smiled and ran his claws through curly hair. Greenie didn’t seem quite as hot and sweaty as earlier, but the cold sweat and violent shivers even in sleep still worried the king. Hopefully Kammy could come back with some sort of guide or maybe even a tonic or potion from the mushroom kingdom…

He had no idea precisely when he fell asleep at Luigi’s side, but he certainly did not appreciate being woken by the round, baying tones of a complete stranger. His eyes snapped open, and his predatory pupils homed in on the obnoxiously perfect coiffed head of the Bean Bean prince on the opposite side of Luigi’s sickbed. One of Peasely’s gloved hands took Green’s and the other dared to tenderly cup the feverish human’s face.

“Oh, Luigi, my beautiful beanstalk! Darling,” Peasley cooed, anxiously. “Are you in pain? Where does it hurt? Shall I kiss it better?”

His growl rose just audibly enough that the fingers of the hand Bowser was still holding curled and blue eyes flicked his way, even though Luigi’s head was turned away from him. What the hell? Were…were green and the beanish prince an item? Growl volume increased again. If Peasley noticed, the guy was really good at feigning indifference. Luigi’s fingers tightened around Bowser’s again. A silent entreaty to calm down. The king koopa rested his head on his arms and watched them carefully. Luigi rolled his eyes and had to cough a little before he could speak clearly.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Aww. Anything to make you smile, dearest.”

Bowser noted that there was the barest little hint of an amused grin on Greenie’s face. He made Luigi smile wider and more beautifully than that practically every time they spoke!

“You can quit the histrionics, Peas. You’re not my husband.”

Green’s words implied it was all an act, but that wistful sigh struck Bowser as a hundred percent genuine. As did the lingering brush of Luigi’s cheek.

“Perhaps, in another life.” Weird. The prince’s voice sounded completely different now. Gone was the pompous effect, and the sing-song cadence was far less pronounced. “You look terrible.”

Now that made Luigi chuckle in earnest.

“Always such a charmer.”

It felt a bit better now he knew they weren’t flirting in earnest, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He didn’t. He didn’t like it all. ‘Course, he wouldn’t even care so much if he knew where he and Green stood. What were they? No label seemed appropriate. It was so painfully confusing. Somehow this thing between them was simultaneously nothing, yet also everything. Terre hadn’t been this complicated. Loving Terre was easy. Loving the green Mario brother—stars just the idea that he could somehow have fallen well on his way to loving the guy was—daunting, harrowing, and terrifying how quickly and completely it had happened. Was happening. Dammit. He was not—he did not need this headache right now!

“Did you come all this way just to tell me I look like shit?” Luigi teased, grinning again.

“Much as I love critiquing your ensemble, my dear, I’m here on official capacity.”

That caught both his and Luigi’s attention. He wasn’t sure the Beanish prince had even noticed him earlier, so he sat up from where he’d been resting his head on the hand intwined with Luigi’s and rumbled, deeply:

“Meaning?”

“I am here to ensure all parties manage act with propriety. Keeping the peace, as it were.” Very meaningfully, he looked Luigi in the eyes and spoke in a low, concerned tone. “He’s here to see you and give you some medicine. And I believe he might have mentioned soup?”

Bowser’s tail twitched enough that it scraped the furniture. One guess who ‘he’ was.

Tracing Luigi’s fevered brow earned the bean-bean prince another growl. Bowser was extremely annoyed when dark eyes briefly, oh-so briefly, fluttered over to him before returning to Luigi and pretending nothing had happened. So, the guy was just good at pretending to be oblivious. He was deliberately ignoring blatant warnings. Gutsy. Stupid, but gutsy.

Badly as Bowser wanted to tell Mario to go screw himself, it wasn’t his choice to make. Despite that, those pretty, blue eyes turned to look at him, searchingly. Subtly, he gave the barest hint of a nod, though he didn’t bother concealing his smoldering desire to roast the little red-hatted mustached man. Luigi’s fingers laced between his giant ones and a warm smile bent the corner of tired lips. It lingered even as the man turned back to Peasley and nodded.

“L-let him in.”

Peasley went out. The door didn’t even finish closing behind him before a red blur burst in and slid to a halt at Luigi’s bedside so fast, it momentarily seemed he’d materialized there in the blink of an eye.

“Luigi, fratellino. Ho sentito che eri malato! Non potevo stare lontano... Dovevo vederti. Mi senti?”

Bowser was staring, he knew he was, but it was hard to know what else to do. He’d never once heard Mario sound so anxious, pained, and panicked. Far as he was concerned, before now he’d only really known 2 flavors of Mario: smug and angry. Only other time he’d seen different was at the Council hearing, and back then Mario had been full of regret and some degree of shame. Not enough, in his personal opinion, but adequate for the circumstance. When the plumber took his brother’s narrow face in hand and checked the fever, Bowser noticed something else, too. Something so mind-numbingly obvious, it should have been the very first thing he’d seen. Mario was terrified. There was so much fear, the koopa king was slowly realizing, that Mario hadn’t even spared him a glance. Luigi snorted with amusement and Bowser watched Red’s face fall like the younger brother had stabbed him in the heart.

“Si. I’m not dying, fratello. You did not have to come running like—” Luigi was silenced by Mario fervently gripping his hand with two gloved ones.

“I will always run to you, Luigi. Tu sei la mia famiglia. Sempre.”

Luigi hummed, then went very quiet. After two seconds of tense silence, they were embracing, Mario’s arm curling around the green bean’s shoulders and squeezing while Luigi sighed with relief and sleepily headbutted the shorter brother. Bowser wasn’t sure how the fuck he’d gone this long not realizing Green and Red only had each other. It was so obvious. How fervently they hugged, the seemingly endless lengths they went to protect one another, the complete panic whenever injury occurred—he knew the look on Mario’s face all too well. He saw it in the mirror anytime one of the kids was sick, or broke their leg, or—

He was shocked out of these thoughts by a blue stare suddenly so clinically detached it was destabilizing to be on the receiving end of it.

“He’s had the fever all night?”

“Since about two or so,” Bowser answered. Fine. He could do clinically detached, too, if that was how they were going to be sure they remained civil to each other. It felt a bit weird how perfectly and completely Mario slid into it. Almost like a doctor or a nurse who’d done a whole lot of hours on the hospital floor.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how warm?” he asked, without much hope.

Bowser took great pride in proving the pipsqueak wrong.

“103.2 He said as long as it stayed under 104—”

“Yeah, 104 and up is where risk of seizures and loss of consciousness is highest. Did it hit or go above that?”

“No, I don’t think so, but Kamek can confirm.”

Poof. Mario didn’t even bat an eye, just turned to calmly look at the magikoopa and repeated the question. Kamek confirmed Bowser’s statement.

“No. I checked it every half hour or so. Highest it got was 103.6, currently he’s at 102.9”

“Thank you.”

That had Kamek blinking and shooting a look Bowser’s way that the koopa king just shrugged off. The magikoopa teleported away seeing as he was no longer needed.

“Sorry about him,” Luigi said, tiredly. “He gets-a like this whenever he has to take care of me. Real clinical.” Then, to his brother directly, he teased, “Mama always-a said you should have become a doctor.”

“Oh, shush you. We both know la famiglia never had the money for-a medical school. Here, I brought you some ibuprofen.” Red tapped a couple pills out of the bottle and Luigi opened his mouth. Mario tossed them inside before handing him a glass of water from the bedside table where there was a glass and pitcher. Luigi swallowed the medication.

“What does—”

“Reduces pain, fever and inflammation,” Mario spat out, very clipped with his tone. Finally, finally, his eyes slid off Bowser’s face and down to their hands. The air went stagnant. Well, Bowser thought, if Shortstack wasn’t going to say anything about it, neither would he. And as long as Mario kept his annoying little mustached mouth shut, he’d be staying right where he was. He wasn’t going anywhere until he was sure Greenie was doing better. A minute that felt like a year ticked past. After that, Bowser just huffed and made himself comfortable, resting his head on his arms again, effectively trapping Luigi’s hand for the foreseeable future. Unseen by Mario, the fingers curled, appreciatively. Lu shot him a sweet look and a tired smile.

Very quickly, Mario’s gaze flicked away. Bowser wasn’t sure what that meant but suspected they’d be having a decidedly uncivil discussion about it eventually. After Luigi was better. Hopefully not anywhere near his castle this time, though. They’d just finished rebuilding the damn place… and so help him if Red went anywhere near his kids…

For now, though, Mario reverted to cold impartiality.

“I need a bowl of cold water and some clean washcloths.”

Bowser rolled his eyes and puffed steam out of his nose.

“Kamek.”

SCHWING! His wizened old advisor and adopted father appeared at his elbow. He looked wearily up into his dad’s glasses, feeling truly as though he’d aged a decade in one night.

“Get Mario whatever he needs. If he calls you—”

“What do you want?” Kamek barked, grumpily.

Mario repeated it. Kamek summoned it, tersely. The water sloshed about a bit, but thankfully didn’t really spill. This time Mario’s thank you was quieter, but he still looked the old magikoopa right in the face. Kamek hobbled over, growling the entire way. Mario’s face shrunk back as the koopa’s beak invaded his personal space.

Bowser didn’t envy Red. He hated whenever he found himself on the receiving end of his dad’s wrath…

“Allow me to make myself perfectly clear: Four of my grandchildren nearly died in your foolish attack and my sister was hurt trying to protect them. You deserve to die for that. It is out of respect and concern for your brother over there that I will refrain from anything further than this!”

SLAP!

Green sat up, but Bowser urged him back into the pillows, growling at the pair of them.

“Dad! That’s enough!” he hissed, part of him worried Mario’s fist would shoot up and—

“S’alright.” Mario said, softly, rubbing the stinging pain away before dipping one of the washcloths in the cold water, wringing it out a little and leaning over his brother’s side to press it to Luigi’s forehead. Lu whimpered and squirmed.

“Non mi piace…” Greenie whined. Mario sighed.

“I know you don’t like it. I know it’s cold and I know it’s not what you want, but we need to start bringing your temperature down, fratellino.”

Luigi shivered. Bowser and Kamek were watching in a mix of concern and astonishment. Mario hadn’t even seemed angry. He didn’t even try to punch Kamek back… Speaking of which. Bowser glared at his dad, red eyes burning with fury. He understood, he really did. There was nothing he wanted more than to sink a good solid right into Mario’s gut for everything the pipsqueak did, but now they had alliances to think about…For Kamek just to go and take that kind of a risk…

“Go check on the kids,” he grumbled, nonplussed. “If we need anything else we’ll call Kammy.”

Kamek just nodded stonily and disappeared in a puff of blue smoke. Hmph. Greenie’s eyelids were drooping. For all the discomfort of just a few seconds ago, now the guy was about to fall asleep…Luigi’s breathing steadied and Bowser settled back down. Unfortunately, enemy or ‘ally,’ Bowser couldn’t relax enough with Mario around to join the green bean just yet. No way. Old instinct died hard. Maybe he should apologize for Kamek. Even though Red absolutely deserved it, he didn’t want a diplomatic conflict with the mushroom kingd—

“So…” Mario started first. Bowser stayed where he was, head on his crossed arms. Only his eyes moved to scan the human’s face. He’d never really noticed that while they had a lot in common, the brothers were also very different.

Luigi’s face was angular. Mario’s was round. His hair was the same shade as Luigi’s, but less curly. Bowser’d always thought it was kind of funny how different their mustaches were. Why was Mario’s shaped like that, while Luigi’s was so much simpler and more refined? Luigi’s was better, in the koopa king’s opinion, but what did humans think? He wondered, idly. Also, Mario looked extremely uncomfortable. Hmph. Gee, I wonder why? Bowser thought, rolling his eyes. Red cleared his throat.

“So, um, how are the bambini? Er, the—”

“No.” Bowser growled, darkly, doing his best to get himself in check before he woke up Green. His eyes narrowed and found Mario’s blue ones. “Don’t.” He breathed deeply for a few seconds, puffing out some sparks, “I get what you’re trying to do, but bring up my kids one more time and I will not be responsible for what my instincts do to you. Understood?”

“I—” Mario lowered his gaze but nodded. “Si, capiche.”

The koopa king leant back down at Luigi’s side, relaxing once more.

“Have you been sitting here long?”

Bowser didn’t like that line of questioning any more than he liked Mario asking about his kids, mostly because he’d just been wondering about that himself. Felt like ages, but it had probably only been a matter of hours. Depended how long he’d slept.

“Long enough.”

“Dare I ask how this happened?”

He tensed up. Oh, you mean what resulted in your brother’s body being unable to properly thermoregulate? Well, see, Junior blasted him with ice-cold water magic. Completely soaked his clothes. And instead of drying himself off or changing, your crazy brother went after Junior. Because of course he went after Junior, because he’s been there for my kids more lately than I have. Also, I locked him in the dungeon for three days. Took me a while to realize he’d roast to death down there in that heat, but I figured it out before he overheated. Gave him water and a cell of his own. So, his body was probably only just getting used to regular temperatures again when Junior hit him. Yeah, right. Like Mario would even listen to half of that without flying off the handle. Loathe as he was to admit it, were he in Red’s place, he’d do the same. Only difference was, no matter how upset he was with any kid’s conduct, he’d never resort to violence. He didn’t trust Mario to do the same. He had absolutely no reason to. Apologies or no, Mario had harmed his hatchlings in the past. That was not something he’d forgive or forget anytime soon, and he wasn’t about to give the man more reason to antagonize them. But what was he even going to say? How could he possibly answer without—With a hum and a little click of the tongue, Luigi’s eyes opened just the tiniest bit.

“Ti ricordi il nostro primo litigio, fratellone?”

Immediately, the atmosphere tightened somehow further, tension ratcheting up to a new high. To Bowser’s surprise and Luigi’s apparent bemusement, Red answered in English.

“Of course, I remember. It was stupid. Some kids from school were picking on you and—”

“No, Mario. Tra noi. Ricordi?”

The king didn’t think he’d ever seen Mario’s mustache twitch so damn much. More than once, the older brother opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again. It was like suddenly he wasn’t even there. Luigi was smiling softly, while Mario was darkly frowning.

“No. I don’t even-a know what you’re talking about. We never-a fight.”

“Liar.” Luigi snarked, smirking and poking his brother’s face. Mario brushed the hand away only for it to return and poke round cheeks even more. With an annoyed noise, Mario batted at it. Despite the weariness it seemed Luigi was a relentless opponent. Finally, red sighed in defeat.

“Fine! Yes, alright? I remember. You’d taken some of my toys without asking and to get back at you I took some of yours and you tried to yank it back and I—I—”

Snickering, Luigi whispered, “You punched me.”

Red eyes narrowed to slits and glowed with anger, but his kids’d had their own fair share of little mishaps like that. Part of being a kid. Kids hadn’t learned how to act, how far was too far, how much was too much, how to control the feelings that surged inside them, or how to give those feeling constructive outlets instead of destructive ones. Heck, Bowser was still working on that last one… His older kids knew how to handle anger like that.

Junior…Junior was still learning, but he was learning, he truly was. Bowser knew that. He could see it. He could feel it in the anxiety and regret and sadness Junior’d expressed last night when it became clear the green bean was worse for wear. And Junior had apologized readily and more than once. Junior was bad at apologies most of the time. Almost as bad as he was.

“I—”

The sheer shame and pain in Mario’s voice had the king koopa studying his nemesis’ face. Huh. That was oddly akin to the regretful look Junior wore last night.

“Lu…you know I never meant to—I’m sorry. I know it hurt. I’ve always felt terrible that I—”

“Ecco cosa è successo.” Luigi whispered.

Mario leaned down, touching the side of Lu’s face. “Che cosa?”

“Era proprio così, fratello. Un bambino che fa i capricci. Non tutti i piccoli erano pronti, fratello. Tutto è nuovo e strano e loro lottano.” Green’s voice was so soft, one hand patting Mario’s cheek as he went on to murmur, “Capisci, vero?”

Blue eyes tore away from Luigi’s and looked over at Bowser.

“One of the children did this?”

“He didn’t mean to,” Bowser said quickly, trying not to stare at Green like the man had grown another head. What the hell was he thinking just telling Mario— “He already apologized.”

“Was he—last night,” Luigi coughed, “You went to check on him after y-you-a carried me here, si?”

“Of course,” he rumbled, nodding.

“How was he?”

“Had to take him to my nest and hold him ‘til he cried himself to sleep. Couldn’t stop blaming himself. Kept sobbing about how he hurt you and all you were was nice to him. Really made an impression. I don’t think we’ll be having an incident like this one again. He’s learned his lesson.” He said flatly, trying not to let himself get too swept up in his own emotions surrounding the events of the night.

Luigi’s smile was weary yet held a knowing sparkle as it turned toward his brother.

“Sound-a familiar?”

Mario was a cowed and defeated man. He sighed. His left hand removed his hat, and the right ran anxious fingers through his hair. He pulled his hat back on, tugging it down low so he could wipe his eyes without Bowser seeing.

“Fratellino, mi farai preoccupare da morire.”

“Anch'io ti voglio bene, fratello.”

The older twin checked the damp washcloth on Luigi’s forehead and decided it was getting a bit warm, so he took it and dunked it back in the cold water, wrung it out, and put it back on his brother’s forehead. Luigi shivered and pouted, but gave in. Mario took his brother’s hand and assumed a position similar to Bowser’s, settling down to rest for a while whilst keeping an eye on things.

“You’re going to-a give me gray hairs. All of-a this worrying…”

Bowser just hummed, low, his heart somehow in complete agreement.

Next he awoke, it was sometime later. Morning, if the orangey light peeking through the curtains was any indication. Luigi still looked pale and sweaty, but decidedly better than last night and the sight had Bowser breathing easy. It was like a two-ton weight off his chest. He’ll be fine, his mind told him, he already looks better. The fever will break, and he’ll be fine. Mario was sleeping on Luigi’s other side. See? His rational brain pointed out. He wouldn’t be sleeping if danger was lurking. Greenie’ll be fine. He wanted to believe that. He knew he should. He had no reason not to, but his heart refused to sit quietly. Terre. He’d thought she’d be alright, too. She was the strongest koopa he knew. Of course, she’d make it through…but she hadn’t. Everyone had thought she was getting better, then days later she was—she’d—Bowser grimaced and tried to shake free of memory’s grip. The scales on the back of his neck prickled. He looked up. Blue eyes—so like Green’s, yet so very different were scrutinizing his face. His lip curled.

“What’re you lookin’ at?”

“Nothing. Are you—Is...” Mario’s voice faltered. “Is-a everything alri—”

THUD!

They both jumped as the door swung open so forcefully it hit the wall.

“LUIGI!” Morton. Bowser’s eyes flashed. He was of two minds, torn between desire to comfort and protect. It wasn’t rational. Mario wasn’t here to hurt anyone, but Red had already almost taken his little star away from him twice and Bowser’s hind brain refused to view the man as anything less than a threat. Wisely, Red stayed perfectly still, seemingly sensing the king koopa’s feral panic.

The gray koopaling ran, tears streaming down his cheeks, right to Luigi’s bedside. Morton climbed up the side of the bed using his claws and sobbed some more as he took the spot Bowser gently vacated so the kid could be close. Luigi’s brow crinkled and blue eyes fluttered open slowly. Morton whined, distressed, and practically tackled the poor creature. Chuckling, Luigi’s arms rose to encircle the eleven-year-old, rubbing comforting circles on Morton’s shell. The poor koopaling was so badly shaken it didn’t do much to stop the crying.

“Lu-i-gi—” Morton stamered through the tears. “No dying.” Morton’s hands and shoulders shook. “Please…Morton n-needs. P-please. D-don’t…”

“I’m not-a going anywhere, piccolo stella. It’s-a just a fever. I’mma already feeling-a much better. Soon my temperature it will go back to normal, si? And we can ask-a your Papa to tell us some more of-a his stories, si?”

“Morton only wanna hear if Luigi there to hear, too!” Morton said, still clutching at Luigi’s dress as though the man were about to disappear. “L-Luddy and Morton saw Beanish Prince. He said—He said Weegee was sick and—and—Morton doesn’t want Luigi to—to—d-d-”

Luigi gently tugged, inviting Morton to come lay beside him in the bed. He smiled when Morton took him up on the offer and snuggled close. The little star-faced koopa’s head pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat and purring, softly. Luigi smiled down at him, but then he looked up. His smile vanished. Ludwig was standing frozen in the doorway. The teenager’s expression was inscrutable, but his features were paler and stiffer than usual. The green-clad plumber called the eldest’s name and patted the bed next to Morton. Ludwig only came forward a few unsteady steps.

“A-re…” Luddy’s voice cracked. “Are you going to—will you—is—a-are you—”

“I’ll be fine, piccolo.” Luigi murmured, then instructed, sternly, “Vieni qui.” Then, belatedly realizing Ludwig didn’t understand, added, “Come here, bambino mio.” He patted the bed again. Ludwig started forward again but only made it as far as the corner of the bed before tensing up completely, eyes wide and staring. Luigi followed the gaze. Oh. Of course.

As it always did, anxiety traveled straight from the elder brother to the younger. Morton followed Ludwig’s gaze and suddenly the gray-scaled koopaling was shivering from an entirely different kind of fear. He clung as close to Luigi as he could and endeavored to make himself as small as possible. Morton’s pitiful whine had Bowser standing at full height, tail twitching furiously. Behind Morton’s shell one of Luigi’s hands found Bowser’s palm. The king’s instincts cooled just enough.

Mario had wisely backed away, now standing with his back against the wall.

“Fratellone, if you don’t mind giving us just a few-a moments—”

“No problem. Take-a your time. I’ll-a go-a make some-a soup. Hai fame, vero?”

“Sì, grazie.”

Mario took a pill bottle from his overalls. The same one he’d given Luigi a couple of a few hours ago.

“Take two more of those, okie dokie? They’ll help with-a headache and—”

“Si, fratellone. I know.”

Mario nodded and excused himself, turning his back and leaving the room. He only stopped to look back after closing the door firmly behind himself. That Bowser’s bambini had grown to like his brother wasn’t all that surprising. Most children and pets gravitated toward his kind-natured sibling. Luigi’d always been that way. He was a little surprised Bowser had allowed it, though. That tartaruga seemed protective. Very protective...

It took him ten, possibly fifteen minutes to find his way to the kitchen. Thankfully, his appearance didn’t surprise them in the slightest. A rather terse koopa in a chef’s hat lifted a claw and pointed to a vacant corner with a stove and plenty of counterspace.

“Over there. Do your own work. Clean up after yourself.” Was all they said before bustling off to work in another part of the kitchen. Whatever. That suited Mario just fine. He wasn’t a great cook at the best of times, but there were two dishes he was halfway decent at: spaghetti Bolognese and Mama’s homemade chicken soup. It took a bit of rooting around in the pantry to find the ingredients he needed, and a few more minutes to round everything up—the shelves in there went all the way up to the ceiling, which in his opinion seemed very inefficient—once he had everything, though, he went right to work.

It was right as he put it on high heat to boil for a while that a funny feeling shot down his spine. The unmistakable sensation he was being watched. He turned around. The castle chefs and other kitchen staff were going about their day, seemingly unperturbed. None of them were so much as glancing his direction. Then why—oh. Blue eyes glared sharply at him past heavily curled and mascaraed lashes. One of Bowser’s bambini. The girl. Was…had she always been this small? Well, he was used to her wearing ice skates or small heels…She was currently not wearing any shoes at all and instead of the usual pink bow and pink lipstick it seemed she’d opted for an odd shade of gray for the bow. It had little rhinestones that glimmered and sparkled. Her lipstick wasn’t dark, but it wasn’t light either, more of a middle pink shade that went paired very naturally with her scales. It was odd seeing her in anything but the usual pink getup.

“Um…” he floundered for something to say and settled on, “No pink-a bow today?”

One of her bracelets was tugged meaningfully off her wrist. She spun it between her fingers, eyes narrowed.

“I’mma not you enemy,” Mario said, holding up both his hands. She moved to stand directly in front of him. He stuck his hands to his sides and stood still, trying to be as unthreatening as possible.

SLAP!

His face stung. Geez, koopa scales were no joke. Twice in one day, too. That was gonna leave a mark…Ow! He turned his eyes back toward her. She was glaring.

“You deserve more than that. But you’re no longer the enemy or whatever.”

Mario tried to rub the feeling back into his cheek. Her words stoked his curiosity.

“How old are you?”

“No,” was apparently the only answer he was going get to that, “I talk. You listen.”

He just nodded, numbly. He knew better than to argue with a statement like that.

“Your brother—the green one—you care about him?”

“Of-a course I—” The red plumber was silenced by the heat of her glare. Right. No talk. Only listen. He closed his mouth and nodded emphatically, a very serious scowl on his face.

“And seeing him hurt or sick, like right now, that hurts you?”

Swallowing tensely, he nodded again. She’d gotten the answer she was looking for. Her jaw tightened and her claws caught a fistful of his overalls and tugged him down to her level.

“I know you and your pretty, pink, perfect princess looks at us and see a bunch of monsters to stomp on, but they’re my family. So that pain you have right now? Multiply it by eight. That’s the hurt you caused after every fight, every showdown, every standoff. And that’s just mine. You think my brothers like seeing me hurt? You think we liked seeing my dad covered in bruises and casts for a broken arm or a broken tail?!”

He hung his head, the shadow from the brim of his hat hiding the wetness in his eyes. He would apologize again if he could but knew she didn’t want or need to hear it.

“We’ve suffered enough. Steer clear of my brothers if you know what’s good for you. Especially Roy. He could kill you for what almost happened to Morton. I could, too.” Her claws stretched and flexed like they wanted to strangle him. She shoved him backward before she lost control. “But I won’t. I think keeping you our ‘not enemy’ is safer.”

Something in her eyes told Mario there was a little more to it than that, but he didn’t question.

“I-a understand, principessa. We’re-a allies now. It won’t-a happen again.”

“It better not.” Her voice was cold as ice, “If it does, even your brother won’t be able to save you. You’re lucky we like him enough to leave you alone.”

She left Mario alone in the kitchen, leaning on the counter and staring into the giant pot of soup waiting for it to boil. Seeing his distorted reflection in the surface of the broth, he kept thinking of what she’d said. About him only seeing koopas as monsters. She was right. They’d been nothing but ‘enemies’ or monsters to him. He’d caused so much pain and hurt and—Fuck. He rubbed his forehead and wiped his eyes. Dammit. He couldn’t—shouldn’t be thinking about this now. Soup. Right. Soup for Weegee. Soup was easy. Soup was familiar. Start with soup. Get Lu feeling better. Then…then…if—if his brother still wanted him around…he’d go from there…

Chapter Text

The soup took a while. Mama’s recipe called for the meat to be cooked long and slow. Mario wasn’t really sure how long he cooked for. He judged how things were coming along based on consistency and taste, like-a Mama taught them. He ladled out two big bowls of steaming-hot soup and put them on a tray to take with him back to Weegee’s room along with some spoons, and a bit of plain bread the chef said it was alright for him to take. Though they’d been very annoyed he was even talking to them at all. Every koopa he passed glared at him even when he tried to smile and wave, so after a little while he just averted his eyes and focused on getting back to Luigi’s room as fast as he could. He found the way easily. Luigi was staying in the room where Bowser usually kept Peach.

Mario sighed. He hoped she was doing okay. With Peasley accompanying him here, the prince’s post overseeing her official duties was being temporarily filled by Queen Bean herself. The Queen was always very impressive, if a bit severe and pushy at times. Peach had insisted she’d be just fine and that he should go to Luigi. Badly as he’d wanted to, he’d actually hesitated to come himself because, after everything that happened and the way Weegee was at the allied council meeting, he’d thought maybe…maybe Luigi wouldn’t want him here. That’s why when they arrived, he sent Peasley in to ask. He was so glad Luigi agreed to see him, he really was worried. Peach had invited him to join her for a sweet and relaxing evening stroll through the garden…Ah. He could still remember how starry night sky was reflected in her eyes…and then Bowser’s magikoopa, um, Kammy, right, Kammy, had just poofed right in out of nowhere and blurted out that Luigi was sick with fever! He took a deep breath when a few koopa guards glared daggers at him as he turned the corner. No matter. He was almost there. This was the final hallway on his way to his brother. Mario knew he needed to stay on his very best behavior. The slightest hint of a wrong move and the koopas could easily send him packing. But he couldn’t leave. Not now. Not ‘til he knew his fratellino was doing better. Probably at least a couple of days…

Finally, he reached his destination. He leaned his elbow down on the door handle and used his back to push, awkwardly maneuvering the tray inside. They’d had summer jobs at a little ristorante back home when they were high school age, but Luigi had always been better at balancing-type stuff than him. You wouldn’t know it from how often Lu trips over his own feet when he’s-a nervous, Mario reflected, smiling a little. Well, that’s my fratellino, good at everything until someone is-a watching. Then his nerves-a get the better of him.

As he turned to face the room and the bed against the far wall, he stopped in his tracks at the most unexpected sight. The bambini were still here… and Bowser was absent. Shit. What should he do? He didn’t want to make them uncomfortable—though it might already be a little too late for that. The gray, star-faced koopaling was curled up across Luigi’s lap like a big baby and it seemed as though the blue-haired one had been also but had jumped up as soon as he arrived. He had a wand in his hand. Mario stayed very still, waiting to see if they’d make a move. They didn’t, so neither did he, but…

“I made him some-a soup,” he said, softly. Neither of the two small koopas said anything. So, after about ten seconds had gone by he declared: “I’m going to turn my head, capiche, piccoli? I want to look for a place to put this down, si?” he slowly moved his eyes down toward the tray he was carrying to show what he meant. A soft growl started up and it set the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Right. He’d forgotten all koopas could growl. He was used to Bowser’s. The blue-haired koopa’s wasn’t nearly as deep or bone-shaking but left him feeling decidedly ill-at-ease. “Um, where is your Papa—er, King Bowser, bambini?”

“He had some royal business to take care of. You can move, just stay where we can see you. And go that way.” The wand waved toward the right-hand side of Luigi’s bed opposite them. “Don’t even think about coming around this side.”

“I won’t.”

The growl started up again when he started to move.

“Slowly.”

“Si, bambino.” Mario murmured, hoping his voice sounded soothing and not overly cold or dismissive. He forced a small smile. “I can’t go-a fast anyway. I don’t want to spill-a the soup.”

He kept a watchful eye over them the entire time he moved but was careful not to make eye contact. He didn’t want them feeling any more threatened by him than they clearly already were. He aimed for the dresser not far from the bedside. He could put the tray there and then ask if one of them could—

“You can take it to him.”

Mario stopped and slowly turned to look at the blue-haired koopaling’s face. Those small eyes were hard and glinting.

“I do not want to upset you, bambino,” he said, carefully. Sparing a quick glance at the gray one only to see tension and shaking, he frowned, “Or-a your brother.”

The blue-haired koopaling turned to look also. Watching the clearly older sibling go to pull the younger one off his fratellino just enough to make room on Luigi’s lap for the food tray was both sweet and heart-wrenching. The gray-scaled one whimpered. The older pushed in front so that as Mario neared the other side of the bed and slowly bent down to place the tray on Luigi’s lap, he’d be between them. Mario was about to wake Lu, when said koopaling spoke and their eyes met.

“He’s ours.”

“Scusi?” He asked, eyebrows drawing close together and lips pulling downward into scowl.

The koopaling sat a little straighter on the bed and repeated, more loudly and clearly this time. “Luigi is ours. You’re his brother, so we won’t attack you.” That short beak wrinkled. “Not unless you attack us first.”

Mario took a deep breath, keeping himself calm.

“I won’t attack you, piccolo. I swear it.”

Of course, Luigi chose that precise moment to open his eyes just a sliver to demand, sleepily, “On-a my life, fratellone?”

“Luigi…”

He’d no idea how long Lu had been awake, but evidently, it was long enough to both understand what was going on and make demands. His brother’s tired blue eyes flashed and sharpened like knives, a hint of lightning sparking across the irises.

“Mario, se non puoi promettermi che non farai mai più del male ai miei bambini, vattene.”

Mario’s eyes widened. “Luigi, cosa stai dicendo? ‘I tuoi bambini’?”

“We told you.” The blue-haired one snapped, though his voice was shaking. He leaned in close to Luigi and rubbed his face against the crook of Luigi’s neck as though that was supposed to mean something, but it just left Mario feeling more confused. “He’s ours now, too.”

He was about to ask when from behind them both, a voice that was a bit baying and thick whispered, “Luigi our family. Morton’s and Luddy’s.”

Mario blinked once, twice, and then a third time. He looked at his brother. Luigi’s jaw was tightly set, expression pained.

“Mario, ple—”

“I swear, fratellino,” he whispered, peeking at the two kids, before returning to stare his little brother right in the eyes, saying earnestly, “I would rather-a die than hurt them—any of them—ever again.”

That had the gray one peering around the blue-haired koopaling’s shoulder to whisper:

“Others, too?”

“Si, piccolo. All the others-a too.”

Tentatively, almost uneasily, yet as though testing him, the blue-haired one murmured, “They haven’t declared him as family. Only us. We…Luigi’s good to us, but they haven’t known him as long.”

“I don’t-a care.” Mario said, firmly. “I mean-a what I say, uh…”

“Ludwig. That’s Morton.”

“Ludwig and Morton,” he repeated to himself, committing their names to memory. Although if he was honest with himself, one of them was already carved into his brain. ‘Morton almost died.’ Peach’s voice echoed in his head. He grimaced and struggled to clear his throat. He more than understood why Morton was so terrified. Ludwig was still keeping defensive position between them. Good. Whatever helped the little gray guy feel better was fine with him.

Luigi’s nose twitched and Mario was reminded of his original goal. Right. Soup. He took the lid off the tray to reveal the two bowls of soup. Only now he felt a bit bad because…

“Are you hungry, bambini? You’re welcome to the second bowl.” He offered. After all, he could just go down and get more from the kitchen whenever he got hungry. They were both extremely stunned by the offer. Ludwig was first to refuse, then Morton shook his head.

“We ate breakfast,” the older koopaling muttered, awkwardly looking away. Yeah…Mario sympathized, this was a pretty awkward situation. Former enemies sitting in one place, keeping the peace, offering to share food. Yeah, pretty weird. Definitely not at all what he’d expected for this trip. Luigi was sick, he knew going in, and sure he’d figured Bowser and the bambini would be around, but...

Luigi smiled and reached out to ruffle blue hair affectionately, cooing sweetly. The sight warmed his heart but also made him hate himself all the more.

“You’re sure, bambino?”

“Si,” Ludwig whispered softly.

“Parli italiano?” Mario asked.

“I,” the koopaling blushed a little, “I only know a few words from Luigi and the books he gave me.”

Luigi was struggling to sit up straight enough to eat his soup without dislodging the tray. Mario leaned forward to steady it and Ludwig finally put the wand away as he went to help, gently tucking extra pillows behind Luigi’s back. Lu smiled warmly at him.

“Thank you, piccolo musicista.” Luigi rubbed his jaw against Ludwig’s face a bit like the kid had done to Lu earlier. That had the koopa visibly blushing. No words were exchanged, but a comforting kind of low, rumbling vibration hit the air. It reminded Mario of a cat’s purr. Wait. Koopas purr?

Whilst Mario was marveling at that, Luigi was sipping down warm soup. Very quickly, the younger human decided to forgo the spoon and just drink from the bowl, lifting it up with both hands. Mario chuckled.

“Stai attento. Non così in fretta. Ti sentirai male.”

Luigi whined and lowered it slowly back down onto the tray.

“How are you-a feeling, fratellino?” Mario asked as he pressed the back of his hand to his brother’s forehead. Luigi pushed it away.

“Mario, stop worrying. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” he glowered. “You still have a fever.”

“Si, but I’m already feeling better. If you want to go home—”

Vaguely Mario was aware of the little ones bristling whenever he took a hard tone or cut his brother off mid-speech, but he also needed to get the idea through his little brother’s thick skull:

“I’m not going anywhere until your fever breaks for more than a couple of hours. Ideally a fully day.”

“Mario…”

He crossed both arms over his chest.

“Don’t you ‘Mario’ me. Did you take the pills like I told you?”

“Si.” Luigi said, sipping some more soup and nodding. Mario’s eyes narrowed.

“Veramente?” he asked, skeptically.

Luigi’s cheeks went pink. “Si.”

“Luigi…”

“He did.” Ludwig said, meeting Mario’s eyes. “He didn’t want to. He was being difficult about it, but Dad made him.” Soon as he said it, he seemed to have second thoughts, as though he expected Mario to be upset.

Mario might have been, if he didn’t know his own brother so well. Pushing Luigi into taking medication was unfortunately often the only way. Whenever Lu got sick, his little brother was a real pain in the behind. Luigi was already stubborn, and a sick Luigi was most stubborn of all. Just getting his brother to rest was a full-time job. Medication? Fuhgeddaboudit. Luigi either forgot or put up a fight. In all truth, his brother was a terrible patient. Maybe that was why he’d developed this no-nonsense bedside manner in the first place. It left his brother less room to wriggle away from care…

“Good. That’s good. The medicine will help keep his fever down.”

“Mario, they don’t need to know all the ins and outs of—”

“M-Morton wanna know.” The gray koopaling gave a little whine and very carefully nuzzled and snuffled about until he found a spot against Luigi’s side that he liked. It was such a cute action Mario was left staring. Luigi hummed, smiling and turned his head to return a brush to the starred-koopaling’s cheek. Swish, swish, swish, swish…flap, flap, flap. Mario leaned over and looked, eyes bugging slightly. Koopas wag their tails? He couldn’t help it, he smiled. The adoration Morton had for his bro was plain for all to see. What a sweet little guy… A pit started to form in his stomach, and he could feel the blood draining from his face. And he’d almost—

“Morton,” he called, gently, “I’m—I’m so sorry, piccolo. I—when the castle fell down, I didn’t—” he’d never felt so truly furious with himself before. The bitter taste flooded his mouth. “They call me a fucking hero and—”

“Language, fratellone.” Luigi chided, sharply.

“S’okay. Morton knows not to repeat bad words. Makes dad upset.” The gray one said, matter-of-factly. “Mr. Mario?”

That made Mario grin and say, “Just Mario is fine, piccolo stella.” You don’t call-a him Mr. Luigi.”

It was weird hearing Mario’s voice all soft and kind and calling him that name…Morton hid his face a bit against Luigi’s chest as he asked, slowly, “Heros fight monsters, right?”

“Sometimes, piccolo.”

“…are koopas monsters?”

He and Luigi made eye contact. Lightning was dancing there again. A clear warning. Don’t fuck this up. But how was he supposed to know what to say? Should he be honest? Maybe…maybe that was best.

“No, Morton. They’re not. I’ll be honest,” he sighed, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I used to think so. But that was wrong. I was wrong. That was before I—before I realized that you and your siblings were kids. I thought you were all generals in the army trying to help Bowser steal the princess.”

Funny clicks and a high-pitched chirp issued from the little ones’ mouths. Wait…He’d heard koopas make noises like that sometimes on his adventures. Usually accompanied by warbles or other sounds. Was it…a language?

“You didn’t know we were—but—” Ludwig’s eyebrows furrowed.

Morton snorted and his soft bark of laughter startled them.

“Mario dumb.” There was a beat of silence before Luigi broke out in a fit of giggles and even Ludwig smirked just a little.

Funnily enough, the shorter plumber found himself laughing along. “Si, piccolo stella, I’m ten thousand times an idiota. It’s a good thing I have such a smart-a bro.” he nudged Luigi’s arm.

Lu had paused laughing to take another sip of soup, which he now began choking on. The bambini leaned forward, concerned. Morton’s claws patted Luigi’s back. Soon as Lu got his throat back under control, he set down the bowl and lackadaisically tried to knock the signature red hat off his head.

“Moccioso!” Mario teased. Luigi smiled into his soup as he slurped down some more. He pushed the other bowl toward the elder twin.

“Mangia, fratellone.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, hesitantly. “If you want more…”

“I’mma fine. Almost full anyway.”

That made him frown. Luigi’d only eaten about a half a bowl.

“Fratellino, your body needs food.”

“I ate-a some. Va bene.”

“Fine. I’ll set it aside and you can try and eat some more in a bit.”

Blue eyes rolled. Mario knew he was going to have his work cut out for him later getting Luigi to eat more, but that was a problem for future Mario. For now, he removed the tray and went to put it on top of the chest of drawers. He took his bowl out before putting the lid back on to protect what remained of Luigi’s from the elements. He sat down in his chair at Lu’s bedside and began to eat. Fuck, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was…he downed the entire thing in a matter of minutes, then he wiped his mustache with his sleeve and sighed.

Luigi was lying back now instead of sitting up and it seemed the bambini had wasted no time making themselves comfortable. Ludwig was, once again, between him and Morton. More than once as Mario watched, whenever the gray star-faced koopaling’s limbs stretched his general direction, Ludwig tensed and protectively shifted them, so they were effectively kept between Ludwig and Luigi. Clearly, though they’d accepted he wouldn’t harm them, they didn’t trust him. That was fine. He was gratified they allowed him to be here at all. After all, Morton had more reason than anyone to want him as far away as possible, yet it seemed the sweet kid wasn’t the type to hold grudges. That reminded him, he was wondering…

“How old are you, piccoli?”

“Seventeen,” Ludwig answered, then nodded toward the gray koopaling, “He’s eleven.”

It was like his chest had taken a crushing blow. Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. He knew they were kids. He knew that, but the actual numbers hit him like a truck. He didn’t have time to process the pain because the door opened. In seconds a murderous growl had Mario’s body on autopilot. His legs carried him away from the bed, putting as much distance between himself and the bambini as possible. Bowser wore the same wild, glazed look as that day. All Mario knew was unless someone did something quick the king koopa’s body was going to start morphing into the huge, feral, spitting form he’d seen then and roast him.

A tiny lilting chirp was all it took. The haze cleared, but the growl lingered. Bowser went to the bed. Mario’s eyes widened a little when the giant koopa nuzzled Morton and Ludwig the way he’d seen them do to his brother earlier. Not only that, the sound changed, rolling from a growl into a kind of rumble and then into something even softer, almost tender…Giant, fire-breathing koopas purr, too. Made sense, but—

Mario’s brain stalled. The bambini laying on Luigi were gently parted by their father’s gold-scaled hands so Bowser’s head could lean down to brush the side of Luigi’s face with his cheek.

Chapter Text

Mario didn’t exactly mean to stand there staring with his mouth flopped open like a fish. He really didn’t. But Bowser…BOWSER had just…What the hell? Okay. Okay. Right. Breathing was a thing. He should do that. In, out. In, out. Okay. Don’t lose your head, Mario. Maybe you’re hallucinating…yeah. Maybe it’s some weird panic dream. Because in what other reality would your long-term enemy be rubbing cheeks with your brother? That’s crazy…no way. There was no way. But if he was the one hallucinating why did Bowser’s bambini look just as shocked as he felt? Alright…well if they were surprised too, maybe it was just some koopa social thing? Just like with the kids. Maybe, since they’d ‘claimed’ Luigi as family, Bowser felt responsible for his brother’s welfare also? That felt…reasonable. Yeah. And that also explained why Bowser’d stayed by Lu’s side holding his bro’s hand…

Fuck. He really wished he hadn’t remembered the hand-holding thing. That made it harder to rationalize all this as purely friendship related. But hang on. Peach herself had to remind him that just because Luigi held hands with Peasley at the council didn’t mean they were an item. Right. Right! That’s just how Lu was. Lu’s always been a hands-on type. Cuddly, liked hugs…yeah. Bowser indulging Luigi in that, though, that was mind-boggling. His brain short-circuited anew as one of Bowser’s clawed thumbs brushed Luigi’s cheek.

“How are you feeling?”

He wanted to believe it was platonic, but the king koopa only had eyes for Luigi and Lu’s answering grin was sweet and affectionate. Too sweet. Luigi looked at Bowser like the tartaruga’s concern meant the world to him. Mario’s fingers curled. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his overalls before they could turn to fists. Maybe Bowser wasn’t as big a villain as Mario’d originally thought, maybe the koopa king was a caring dad, maybe the koopa kids had good taste choosing his brother as family, but in no universe did that mean Bowser deserved his brother’s affection. No way. Lu was too good for him. If Bowser thought he could just waltz in and sweet-talk and flirt and butter Lu up by being all affectionate and demonstrative, then he had another thing coming. But…this didn’t seem at all like the way Bowser treated Peach. This felt different. So maybe...maybe he was reading things wrong after all. Lu snickered, just a low snort of a giggle, yet it had the spiked tip of Bowser’s tail swishing back and forth. His brain broke all over again. Giant fire-breathing koopas also wag their tails. What’s more, they wag their tails at giggling Italian plumbers…He took a few steps back and leaned against the wall. He wanted to observe them as long as possible to figure out what was really going on.

“I am not dying, mio re. My brother did not have to come running, and neither did you. Did you finish your—”

“It’s dealt with…enough.”

Luigi shot him a reproachful look and steam issued from the dragon koopa’s nostrils.

“I wanted to be sure you and the kids were—”

“We’re fine, aren’t we bambini?” he said, smiling at Morton and Ludwig, who’d both snuggled up on either side of him in bed. The little ones chirped and purred. Bowser’s answering purr was loud and deep enough it shook the furniture.

“Well,” Bowser looked away, though it very much interested Mario that he seemed almost pained to do so, “I could take them off your hands for a little while. Let you get some real rest.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You need sleep, you crazy thing,” Bowser scolded softly, with a kind of whining growl and a claw deliberately forcing Luigi’s head up to look him in the eyes.

Mario did not like those sharp points so close to his twin’s throat, but he kept his mouth tightly shut.

“Says the koopa who spent the better part of the night at my bedside,” Luigi grumbled.

Morton whimpered and clung to the front of Luigi’s dress.

“Morton wanna stay…please?”

“Of course you can stay, piccolo stella.”

Much as he wanted to melt into the background so he could keep a watchful eye, Mario wasn’t about to let an opportunity go to waste. If he could take advantage of the situation to bully his brother into taking care of himself, he’d seize the moment.

“They can stay, if you finish your food, fratellino.”

“Mario,” Luigi whined, “I told you, fratello, I’mma just not that hungry. Besides, it’s-a probably cold—”

“That’s not a problem.” Bowser rumbled, looking up and seeing the tray on the dresser over on the other side of Luigi’s bed. Ludwig got it and set it down on Luigi’s lap, removing the lid. Bowser carefully took the bowl in both hands and lifted it up a little so he could breathe fire underneath it. The contents came to a low boil, at which point he carefully lowered it back down onto the tray. Luigi blushed a little.

“T-thank you, mio re.”

Bowser’s nose twitched. “Doesn’t smell half bad.”

Mario crossed his arms, pouting. Luigi giggled and smiled over at him.

“Si. My fratello, he cooks-a two things better than me: spaghetti Bolognese and-a Mama’s chicken-a soup.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Bowser rumbled.

Much as he wanted to rise to that, Mario kept his big mouth shut. The king koopa sure had a way of pushing his buttons…

“Papa?” Morton called softly as Ludwig helpfully handed Luigi the spoon from earlier. Lu slowly ate a bit more, blowing on each spoonful until it was an acceptable temperature.

“Yes, my little star?” Bowser hummed warmly, red eyes repeatedly glancing back at Luigi as though afraid Mario’s little bro would stop eating if he looked away long enough. Mario was no closer to understanding what the heck was going on between them. They were so…confusing.

“Can tell about Pa Morton?”

Mario didn’t have to understand to appreciate that Morton’s question turned Bowser’s affectionate expression to one holding considerably more gravitas. The muscles in his shoulders, neck and jaw all tightened as he became hyper-aware, yet again, of lava-red eyes briefly passing over him.

“I dunno, kiddo, this isn’t the best time. Greenie should focus on resting—”

“I am already stuck in bed, mio re. It’s as-a boring for me as it is-a for the bambini. A story or two would certainly help pass the time.”

Why did he get the feeling Bowser was annoyed with his brother for that? Despite the gut-instinct, though, the giant tartaruga’s face gave nothing away. He didn’t envy the koopa king’s current predicament: faced with two adorably pleading bambini and his fratellino’s soft, expectant stare…Big guy didn’t stand a chance.

“…Fine,” Bowser grumbled, a claw coming up to brush Luigi’s chin, “but the second you start feeling tired—”

“Si, mio re. I will tell you,” Luigi crossed his heart with his soup-spoon hand, “Cross-a my heart, hope to die.”

This got an agitated whine from Morton, so Mario chimed in, soothingly, “It’s-a okay, bambino. It’s-a just a saying from back home, like-a saying ‘I promise.’”

Morton visibly relaxed and Luigi shot him a grateful smile, which he answered with a nod. Then he realized Bowser was facing him and all his tension returned. He didn’t like the giant koopa’s inscrutable mask. It made it impossible to anticipate anything, which meant, of course, he then had to be ready for everything and that was exhausting.

“You’ll be staying?” the low voice boomed.

“Yes,” he nodded toward Luigi, “I should keep an eye on things in case he gets worse.” If non-wagging tail movements meant disapproval, then Bowser didn’t like that much at all, though Mario couldn’t exactly blame him. He didn’t like it much, either.

“Fine, but you keep your mouth shut, or I’m throwing you out, understand?” Before Mario could even attempt to answer, Bowser was threatening him some more, “And not a word of what you hear leaves this room. I don’t trust you, shortstack, but I trust him,” Bowser nodded at Luigi, “So don’t go repeating this shit to anyone, understand? Not a soul.”

The brothers exchanged a heavy glance. Mario didn’t know why he was being sworn to secrecy, but he didn’t have to. Luigi’s face told him that Bowser was right for asking this of him. And that was good enough. Lu was his brother, and he trusted Lu with his life.

“I got it.”

That was enough. After that, he might as well have been invisible. Bowser’s full attention returned to his little brother and the bambini.

“Alright. How much did Martin tell you?”

“Not much at all,” Ludwig supplied, averting his gaze a bit bashfully, “I asked about my parents, and he ended up telling us how they met. We didn’t start talking about Morton or Astrid or any of that before you—”

“Okay.” Bowser took a deep breath, eyes closed, blowing it out slowly with a pained look on his face. “He told you about the showdown at Johann’s return party?” the kids nodded, so Bowser went on, “Well, Hildegarde and Johann dated, got married, had you…so, we didn’t see them as much in those days. Morton was seventeen when he and Astrid met at party here, in the castle. Martin had dragged him into coming, just like all the other nights. Your pops wasn’t one for big social events,” he said as an aside to Morton. The gray koopaling’s eyes were wide and interested, as the kid nodded his dad on. “They quietly dated for a while, keeping things relatively under the radar. It wasn’t until there was talk of marriage the real trouble started. Guess that’s as good a place as any to begin…”

Well, whatever this story was, it sounded like it might take a while. Mario covertly sidled over and grabbed an ottoman to use as a seat, leaning his back against the wall. The bambini on either side of Luigi in bed, leaning forward eagerly as they listened, while his fratellino continued eating soup. But that didn’t fool Mario for a second, Luigi was just as riveted as the kids were. Alright, so the ‘Morton’ Bowser was talking about was little Morton’s father? And Hildegarde and Johann were Ludwig’s parents? But…they called Bowser ‘Dad’ and ‘Papa.’ Why—

“They were eighteen. Morton had just inherited his old man’s title and estate by law about a month or two before the old boy kicked the bucket, not that Mor or Mar were sad to see him go. And now, with his standing and means, Morton decided it was as good a time as any to tie the knot. He proposed, and Astrid accepted. She…” Bowser closed his eyes, puffing air slowly out his nose, before opening them again. “She loved him, kiddo, more than anything. She knew her family would never approve, but she followed her heart.”

“Ma brave,” Morton hummed, softly, and the bittersweet smile that failed to reach the red eyes told Mario everything he needed to know. They were dead. The gray koopaling’s parents were dead and Bowser had taken Morton in and raised him as his own. Were they relatives? Close friends? Mario had no idea, but judging by the weary face, it hardly mattered. To Bowser, they had been family. Bloor or no.

“Yeah…she was somethin’ else. Did your grandpa ever tell you ‘bout the fights they used to have? She gave him a real run for his money.”

“Mhm! Mhm!” Morton nodded, bouncing with excitement. “Kamek said she taught him all about metal magic!”

Bowser chuckled. “I’m sure she did. She was much better at explaining things than your dad and that uncle o’ yurs.” But they were getting off track, so the king grumbled, “Where was I?”

“Pa Morton and Ma eighteen gonna get married.”

“That’s right. Well, there was a great big problem with that.”

“Feud.” Morton said, frowning hard.

A feud? One of Mario’s eyebrows rose.

“Mhm,” Bowser nodded, “She should have just run off with Morton and been done with it, but despite knowing they’d never forgive her, she bravely went to tell her family the news herself. See, Astrid’s father wasn’t just any ‘ol copper koopa. He was head of the whole copper clan and when he found out his daughter had been secretly courting a Ferric koopa—and, even worse, intended to marry him, he was livid. He said he’d never allow it as long as he breathed and he imprisoned her—or, well, he tried to. Your mom was a force of nature. She didn’t want to, but they refused to let her go, so she fought her way out, injuring her own brother and wounding her father in the process.” Fangs working at his lip, Bowser stared unseeingly at the wall behind the figures on the bed. “After that…”

From the moment Martin entered the throne room, Bowser’s attention to his council’s presentation might as well have flown out the window. He powered through, but by the end he was barely even listening. They filed out one by one after he asked Kamek to send him the meeting’s notes and put the proposal on his desk for him to make a decision tomorrow.

“Well?” he asked as soon as they were alone. “How’d it go?”

“’Bout as well as expected. I still think we should’ve tried harder not to get them involved.”

Bowser snorted, “As if. You know there’s no keeping secrets from those two.”

“Johann suspects something. That’s why she was expecting my visit.” Martin said, exasperatedly.

“I know. He came to see me this morning. Apparently, he ‘happened’ to have business in the area.”

That got a scoff from the ferric koopa.

“I just bet he did, nosy koop.”

Bowser glowered, “Next time we’re telling them both upfront. Have you ever been on the receiving end of our cuz’ staring treatment? He could get a rock to spill its deepest darkest secrets!”

“Hahaha! Could’ve been worse.”

“Don’t see how,” he grumbled, his great spiked tail swishing agitatedly.

“Same scenario, substitute Hildegarde.”

The king shuddered.

“Point taken.” He thought back to his hushed words with Johann this morning with one little blue-haired koopaling in tow. “Kid’s awful cute, though, huh?”

“Eh,” Martin shrugged, “last time I saw him we didn’t have too much to say to each other.”

Bowser laughed. “He’s a kid, Mar, they’re not exactly the most brilliant conversationalists. You’re supposed to play with them and ask questions about the things they like.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk, royal bachelor. How many kids do you even know, huh?” Martin snarked, grunting as he was playfully shoved by his oversized cousin.

“I know you. You’re still the same, just bigger!”

“Psh, I wish that were true, cousin. I really do.” There was a kind of wistful pain in Martin’s voice that had the young king frowning.

“Mar…” The koopa in question changed the now weighty-feeling conversation into an even heavier one.

“Bowser, do you…Morton and Astrid, you think they’ll be alright? I mean, it was already hard enough for them before her family found out. Now… I think she loves him, and he loves her.” They shared a pointed look before Bowser grumbled up an answer.

“They didn’t go into this thing thinking it’d be smooth sailing.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think—I hoped—I wanted to believe the past was past.”

“So did they, Mar.” Bowser said lowly, not liking where this conversation seemed to be headed.

“I know, I just—” his gray fists clenched. “Is it really worth it?”

“Mar!”

“No. Don’t look at me like that!” Martin appealed to him, “Hear me out. Morton’s going to have to spend his entire life running from shadows. Even if they do get far enough away there’ll always be this cloud over their heads. If the Malachite go after them…if there’s violence—”

“That’s precisely what we’re trying to avoid. That’s why we’re getting Hil and Hann’s help. So, they can—”

Martin was the one growling now, frustration curling his claws into fists. “All that does is buy time! It won’t make a difference unless the copper koopas decide to stop pursuing them!”

Bowser’s fists clenched. He wasn’t the same weirdly gawky teenaged koopa he’d been when he was thirteen. He’d grown a ton, and his muscles had filled out. “So, we make sure they do.”

“Oh yeah? How?” Martin frowned, crossing both arms across his chest.

“I’m gonna pay them a visit.”

“Pft,” The ferric koopa scoffed, “Good luck with that. No one knows where they are.”

“Astrid does.”

Martin’s frown darkened.

“She won’t tell you. She loves my brother, but if you think she’s just going to betray her family like that—”

“She chose Morton. If she really wants—”

“You underestimate her loyalties. They’re still her family.” Mar clapped back.

“Fine, then we’ll find another way.” After a minute or so of hard thought and tense silence, Bowser’s eyes flashed. “Kamek.”

“You called, your pointiness?” the magikoopa asked, glancing from the frowning ferric koopa to the bright-eyed young king.

“The Malachite koopas lived in the mountains north of the volcano, yeah? They had a city there?”

“Yes, your studiousness. And here I thought your history lessons went in one ear and out the other.” Kamek remarked dryly, rolling his eyes.

“Does it still stand?”

“Sorry?” Kamek squawked.

“The city. Is it still there?”

“Yes, but–”

“Ready my airship.”

“Your hastiness,” the advisor looked imploringly at Martin for some kind of help, but Mar had no idea what Kamek expected him to do. Once Bowser had an idea in his head it was hard to talk him out of it. Virtually impossible, most of the time. The young king was one stubborn koopa. “This is most ill-advised. The city is abandoned, but it’s Malachite holy ground. Your presence will be most unwelcome. You’re bound to attract attention.”

“Good,” Bowser growled, claws flexing. Kamek swallowed anxiously. The young king paid him very little mind, “Their attention is exactly what I want.”

“Fine. If you’re really doing this, ya bit idiot, I’m going with you.” He clicked in outrage as he was shoved backward by a couple of giant fingers poking his plastron.

“Oh no, you’re not. We both know why that’s a terrible idea. Kamek and I are going alone.”

“Bowser, don’t be an idiot—they already killed one king, why would you give them the chance to—”

“What? You think Morton and Astrid’s future isn’t worth a little risk?”

Martin’s glare was superheated, but fortunately or unfortunately, Bowser was fireproof. Mar’s beak wrinkled into a snarl.

“Fine! But if you end up dead don’t expect me at your funeral!”

“Fine. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Bow, I’m telling you, this is a really bad idea. If the Malachite don’t kill you, the rest of us will. At least talk to the others and see what they—”

“We both know they’ll only try to stop me.”

“Yes! Because you’re being stupidly hotheaded!”

“Ahem,” Kamek interrupted, shrinking reflexively from that lava-red glare and the bright fiery light peeking out the corners of that fanged maw. “Your ship is ready, your furiousness.”

“Right. Let’s go.” They disappeared, leaving Martin whining in distress.

On the airship in Bowser’s quarters, Kamek finally mustered the brunt of his disapproval and confronted the eighteen-year-old.

“Bad enough Morton and Astrid’s impending marriage has shaken the Malachite to their core. I hope you’ve considered reigniting the flames of hate between them and the royal family is risk in and of itself.”

“’Course I do,” Bowser rumbled, solemnly, “If there’s anything I can do to get the heat off Mor and Astrid…”

“That’s very noble, but—”

“I have to try.”

Kamek closed his beak, claws tightening around the stem of his wand. “Very well.”

“Dad,” the golden spiked tail flicked, “when we get there…I want you to—”

A rush of furious clicks left the old koopa’s beak followed by a harsh crackly growl.

“I’m going with you.”

“Kamek…”

“No.”

“Dad—” Bowser said it in a whisper, “please…”

“No. You go with me or not at all.”

“Fine,” he growled. “I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I. Get whatever you need ready to go. I’m going to clear my head and recharge my magic. It isn’t far. We’ll be there before long.”

Bowser paused his story. Luigi had finished the soup and was trying to push the tray to one side. The king carefully lifted it and set it on the bedside table. It didn’t surprise him when he turned around to find his eldest and his little star clinging to the green bean, their tails twitching, eyes anxious.

“Dad,” Ludwig said, softly, “W-what happened next?”

He didn’t answer. His mind was back on those stark, windy peaks, city gates reaching out like welcoming arms before a vacant city face…cold, lifeless, barren. A cacophonous round of coughs snapped Bowser out of it. He rushed forward, taking hold of Lu’s hand whilst simultaneously easing the human into sitting up.

Mario sat up as well, ready to hurry over himself if needed. He would have already were it not for the shock dealt by the near frantic look on the koopa king’s face. Bowser held his little brother like Luigi was about to disappear. Mario’s blue eyes narrowed in on the way Lu’s hands latched onto scaled forearms. The coughing spell cleared up. His right eye twitched when the king’s snout nuzzled the side of Lu’s face again and reminded him of the unsolved puzzle he’d yet to piece together.

“Bowser,” Luigi’s voice was worried. Okay, what was this? Mario felt like he was trying to paddle upstream without a boat trying to figure it out. Bowser shrugged off his fratellino’s concern.

“Are you sure you’re still up to this? You should rest. I can take the kids so you can get some sleep—”

“Please, mio re, I’m not tired.” He looked at Morton and Ludwig’s eager faces and added, “And the bambini want to hear the rest of-a the story.”

Bowser’s head leaned down close to Lu’s ear and said something Mario couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was, it took a while for the king to get it all out. His eye twitched some more when his brother cupped the side of the giant koopa’s face, thumb stroking it tenderly as Lu whispered something back.

The proud koopa king hung his head and sighed, defeated.

“Alright.” Their hands stayed together. Mario kept a close eye on that as the king resumed the tale. “We flew in low and slow and touched down right outside the city…but we didn’t even make it past the gates.”

“That’s far enough,” commanded a deep, reverberant voice. A figure in brown robes materialized at the center of the city gates with a shwoosh.

“Identify yourself,” Kamek called, raising his wand. They laughed and raised their sleeved arm. The sleeve fell back exposing just a glimpse of copper scaled fingers before a volley of gravel-sized projectiles was slung at him. Bowser’s massive hand pulled Kamek close to his plastron as he turned his back, letting the rough pieces painlessly pelt his carapace before he swung back around, maw open, bright red and orange flame gathering inside.

“His fieriness the king, I presume?”

“You presume right.” He growled.

“Excellent. We’re making history, you and I. It’s been a century since our ancestral counterparts met face to face.”

He let go of Kamek, letting the magikoopa float just above his shoulder, wand at the ready.

“I take it that means I’m speaking with the copper head?”

“Hah,” They sneered. “You have a high opinion of yourself. I trust you value your life?”

Red eyebrows rose then immediately fell and a growl carried on the faint breeze.

“Is that a threat?”

“It doesn’t have to be. Keep your beak out of our family affairs.”

“If those affairs involve my cousin…No.”

“Shame. Turns out the crown is as biased now as when we left its rule.” There was a tense beat where only the wind whistled through the mountain. “But what else could one expect from an iron-kin?”

“Grrrrrrrr.”

“King or no, steer clear or risk unnecessary suffering.”

“What’s wrong with you? You want a war?! ‘Cuz it sounds to me like you’re asking for one!”

“Hahaha,” they chuckled. The wind finally blew the hood back. The koopa was older than Bowser expected, white haired and grizzled, with a particularly fresh-looking scar across his snout and beak. “My daughter is dead. Her corruption is complete and punishment for that is preordained. Her mortal fate is sealed. No one can change that.”

“You could leave her alone! If she’s already dead to you—”

“Tamper with the hands of fate at your own peril. Our law is clear. For her transgression she will die, and the agent of her corruption must die with her. There is nothing you can do.”

“You’re insane.” Kamek snapped.

“And you are wasting your time attempting to negotiate. Leave or die.”

Kamek’s wand glowed brightly and rose up, but Bowser’s glowing red eyes were made to catch even the slightest hint of movement. Five. Seven. Twelve. Fuck. They blended so seamlessly into the shadows of the structure beyond, he hadn’t seen them until now. He put a claw between Kamek and the Malachite head, shooting his dad a hard look and a very minute shake of the head.

“Fine. We’ll go. But know that I won’t stand by and let you harm my cousin or his bride.”

The copper head’s eyes narrowed sharply, but the old koopa stayed stock-still.

As they turned to leave, Bowser’s instincts sang, and he yanked Kamek’s broom just in time for a copper-tipped arrow to sail past where the magikoopa’s head had just been. He turned with fire in his mouth, ready to roast them, only to find the copper head violently restraining the arms of a young-looking malachite with a bow. The younger snarled and spat, glaring at him.

“He says they’d interfere! We should—”

“Enough, Coil.” The Malachite head’s voice rang, “I said let them leave.”

“His cousin took her from us!”

“Still, son. You can dispatch him when next your paths cross.”

“Fine. Consider this war.” Bowser growled.

The malachite head’s eyes flashed and his lips curled into a smile, “And so prepare for war, iron-kin.”

Chapter Text

Bowser, as usual, sat at the head of the ornate stone dining table. Astrid was immediately to his left, prodding her food rather than eating it, and across from her Morton anxiously chewed his lip. He was going to say something, but before he could all attention was drawn diagonally across from her to the little one sitting next to Morton.

“Haha! I’ve got you now!” Ludwig crowed, celebrating the impaling of a little potato that he’d been chasing around his plate with his fork for a minute or so.

Astrid smiled warmly at him, while Hildegarde, also smiling, reminded her son, “Great job, Luddy, but remember, gentlekoopas don’t shout at the dinner table.”

His sharp, chompy little teeth made quick work of the cooked tuber, even as he retorted at an indoor volume.

“Gentlekoopas aren’t any fun!”

Hildegarde and Martin both snorted at that. Johann hid his grin behind his glass. By the time he set it down, he was wearing a neutral expression.

“Perhaps not, my little rondo, but do you think koopas with no manners get invited to play all the biggest stages?”

Ludwig’s fork lowered and his eyebrows pulled toward each other as he screwed up his face to think as hard as he could. Bowser’s tail wagged as he remarked under his breath.

“Someone sure takes after his dad, huh, Hann?”

Pride lit up Johann’s face. He appealed to his lady wife with a doofy grin sappy enough to make the rest of the table sick.

“Our finest work of all, wouldn’t you say, my love?”

Ludwig didn’t realize they were talking about him as he was focusing very hard on stabbing as many little potatoes as he could manage onto his fork at once. All he caught was his father’s reference to his parents’ work, so he ecstatically exclaimed:

“I like the one that goes,” he energetically sang a little motif from one of their more successful concertos. Together Johann and Hildegarde had found some small degree of respect in the musical world. They weren’t particularly prolific, but with the considerable wealth Johann inherited, they enjoyed the freedom to pursue their passions in addition to their routine—and in Johann’s parents’ opinion—incredibly unnecessary day jobs. Johann had procured a research position at the academy of magic translating and cataloguing old arcane tomes which meant he was able to work from their home and take care of their son. After Ludwig hatched, Hildegarde had moved on from the Haven society and, at the encouragement of Lady and with some financial backing from her esteemed husband, established her own enterprise assisting institutions like it with acquisition and direction of supplies and resources under tight budgetary constraints. In a little over a year, she’d built quite a reputation for herself and amassed a wealth of connections from all quarters.

Ludwig didn’t understand why the entire table was giggling at what he’d said. He put his fork down.

“But that’s the best one!”

“Yeah?” Bowser asked, stifling his chuckle. “And why’s that?”

“Well, because…” the kid’s face pinched up again, “Because…because it is!” he declared. Shoving his forkful of potatoes in his mouth then seemed to remember something else he wanted to add, he tried to speak with his mouthful.

“Ludwig,” Johann chided, softly.

He hastily swallowed his food with a loud gulp so he could talk.

“And! And because it’s mine!”

“Yours?” the king asked, amused, “I thought your parents wrote it.”

“Yeah! But Ma wrote it and played for Pa as a present when she found out she was gonna have me! Huh, ma?”

Astrid cooed at how adorable that was while Hildegarde blushed, suddenly very interested in the food on her plate. Her husband grinned without hiding it this time.

“She certainly did.”

“And then—and then! Papa took it and made it a rondo for the end of the concerto!” The five-year-old’s tail was whipping ecstatically back and forth.

Bowser’d heard both Hildegarde and Johann sometimes use the word rondo as a kind of pet name for the little guy, but he’d no idea what it meant. Seemed as good an opportunity as any, so he asked, “What’s a rondo?”

“You don’t know what a rondo is?!”

“Volume, Ludwig,” Hildegarde reminded.

“But he’s king…Kings’re supposed to know everything.”

Martin was unable to keep back a rather derisive laugh. He shut his mouth the second Hildegard shot him a pointed glare. She patted her son’s arm.

“Kings have to know a ton of important things, Luddy. No one has time or space in their brains to learn everything. Not even Bowser.” Then shooting a little smirk at her husband’s young cousin, she playfully jested, “His head would probably explode.”

“Very funny, Hil.” The red-headed dragon koopa crossed both arms over his chest.

“You know I’m just teasing. Don’t be a grumpy shell. Ludwig, why don’t you tell his regalness what a rondo is?”

“Okay!” he said, sitting up very straight, clearly over the moon to be entrusted with such an important task. “A rondo’s when there’s a thing you play over and over, only not really because every time it’s a little different! Oh, but not too different! You play it and then you play it a second way, then you play it the first way again, then a third way, so that it sounds just a little bit different from before! Then you can play the first way again, or sometimes the second way again, but you end the same as you started!”

“One might even say it’s a type of piece where one melodic theme repeatedly alternates with variations—or different versions—” Johann pointedly used language closer to Luddy’s own choice of words that made the blue-haired koopaling chirp and nod happily, “of said theme. Perhaps if you finish all your vegetables, King Bowser will be kind enough to let you play on his piano so you can show everyone what one sounds like, hmm?”

Ludwig’s eyes became impossibly wide. His head turned from his dad back to Bowser.

“You have a piano?!”

Martin grumbled with another mischievous smirk, “Kings may not know everything, but they certainly have pretty much everything.”

Morton tutted.

“Oh, don’t you start! Leave the big guy alone! Bad enough he didn’t know what a rondo was!” he said, picking his own fun at the fire-breathing giant.

Bowser puffed steam.

“I see how it is! You three are ganging up on me!”

“Come on, Bowsie, don’t be like that,” Martin cooed.

“You know we rib you because we care, cousin,” Johann said, smiling. Looking over at his son, he spoke in a mock-confidential whisper the entire table could hear, “Bowser used to play a little piano back in the day.”

“Uh-huh.” The king groused, arms still crossed. He muttered, “Only because you and Kamek wouldn’t shut up about ‘kings needing artistic pursuits.’ I haven’t even set a claw on the thing in years! It’s probably not even in tune.”

“Oh, really? Kamek,” Johann called, his dirty little grin blossoming into an evil smirk of victory when the king immediately protested, flustered.

“Well, don’t just—” More steam. If the others noticed the bit of color in the king’s cheeks brought on by the heat of embarrassment, they wisely kept their mouths shut.

“Yes, Lord Johann?”

“HI GRAMPA KAMEK!” Ludwig was so excited to see the old magikoopa he jumped out of his seat and scurried across the table—to the mortified protest of both his parents—and launched straight at the blue-robed figure perched on the arm of his father’s chair. Kamek gave an ‘Oof!’ as he was knocked clean off, small arms curling protectively around the child as they fell to the ground. There was a collective grinding of chairs on the floor as both von Koopas and Bowser sprang to their feet.

“Ludwig!”

“Kamek! Are you—” Bowser was cut off by Johann’s firm, scolding.

“Ludwig von Koopa, I thought I taught you better than to go running across the dining table! That is completely without manners!”

“But—but—I just wanted to hug Grampa Kamek…” The koopaling hung his head, actively avoiding his father’s ire.

“Get off Grampa Kamek so your mother can make sure he’s alright.”

Hildegarde helped Kamek up as soon as Ludwig had stepped away. She took out her wand to run an assessment but was rebuked by the old koop’s powerful magic. Kamek’s face was extremely calm and he seemed entirely unrattled.

“I’m quite fine, I assure you.” The old magikoopa proclaimed. “It’s no harm done, Johann. You needn’t take that tone with the child.”

Despite Kamek’s attempt to soften him, Johann’s resolve remained. He believed the magikoopa when he said he wasn’t hurt, Kamek was made of tough stuff, having raised Bowser—shell, having raised all four of them. Kamek and Kammy were more present through his formative years than his noble parents ever were. He knelt down and took his son by the shoulders, forcing Ludwig to look at him. Young eyes glistened with tears of guilt.

“I’m sorry, Papa. I was just so excited to see Grampa…” he said, voice getting tinier and quieter the long he spoke.

Johann sighed.

“I know you were, but just because we have big feelings doesn’t mean we get to forget that our actions affect others. You could have really hurt Grampa or broken his glasses or set off magic when you knocked over his wand, and that’s very dangerous. No more reckless tackling. Not Grampa, not Gramma, not even cousin Morton. Okay?” Ludwig nodded with a sniffle and Johann’s tension left in a heartbeat. He gave his son a hug, kissed the top of his head and pointed the little one at Kamek. “What do we say?”

“M sorry, Grampa Kamek.”

The magikoopa tutted and hurried over to gather the little guy in as tight a hug as he could manage, purring. Ludwig clung tight to his blue robes and he smiled, rubbing little circles on the kid’s blue shell.

“I accept your apology, Ludwig.”

“Missed you lots. Haven’t seen you in ages…” the koopaling lamented.

All the adults in the room, save Kamek, shared loaded glances.

“I know,” Kamek gave a down-sliding chitter of agreement, “I’m sorry, little one. We’ve been very busy here at the castle.”

“Working?”

“Yes,” the magikoopa nodded.

“On what?”

Kamek’s glasses glinted mischievously as he tickled Luddy’s scales and made the koopaling giggle.

“Well, I’m not at liberty to say. It’s a great big secret!”

“Secret?” Ludwig was thrilled, “I can keep secrets!”

Blue-robed arms crossed as Kamek clicked, doubtingly. Of course, that only doubled Ludwig’s enthusiasm.

“I can! I can! I wanna know the secret!”

Kamek held out on him for all of a single second. Bowser’s eyes rolled, though he was smiling as he grumbled to the room at large, words sailing completely over Ludwig’s head as Kamek was now whispering in the kid’s ear.

“He’s goin’ soft in his old age.”

Ludwig chirped with delight and bounced up and down. Kamek briefly took the opportunity to bite back.

“I heard that, your subtleness! I was just telling young Ludwig we had a technician in this morning to tune the royal piano, perhaps a demonstration is in order?”

Bowser puffed smoke and sparks. “Well, I—”

Thankfully, or perhaps in view of the bemused smile on Martin’s face, not so thankfully, Martin came to the rescue.

“Ludwig was going to show us philistines what a rondo sounds like.”

“Filly-what?” Ludwig asked, eyebrows furrowed in an anxious expression.

“Never mind that,” his father urged, shooting his iron cousin a sharply disapproving look, “Are you all done eating?”

“Uh-huh!” Ludwig said, tail wagging. Johann looked over just to be sure. There were only a few potatoes left.

“Alright. Go on to the music room with Grampa Kamek. We’ll come hear you play once we’re all done.”

“Okay!” the blue haired koopaling chirped, taking Kamek’s hand. The pair of them disappeared in a blue flash of light with a POP!

Not two seconds later, the dining room service door opened and a series of goombas strode in with trays of sweets and one with coffee. With permission, which they all quickly gave, the staff cleared the dinner plates and replaced them with dessert ones.

“Dessert and coffee, your royalness.” the head waiter announced, perfunctorily.

Martin quickly helped himself to a slice of cake and poured himself a cup of coffee, leaning relaxedly back in his chair. He gave Astrid the side-eye before nudging her with his elbow.

“Aren’t you gonna have some?” he said between bites.

“No, I—”

“Morton!” Martin called to his brother, in a teasing tone, “There’s somethin’ wrong with your wife! She doesn’t want cake!”

Hildegarde’s dulcet tones chimed in. She’d returned to her seat across from her husband. Now Luddy had gone Martin was the only one besides Bowser with no one across from him. Martin looked up when she spoke, outwardly still a picture of relaxation, but internal tension began coiling inside him at her tone. He could still feel her energy as keenly as if it was his own, even after all these years.

“You didn’t eat much dinner either. Are you feeling unwell?”

Astrid did look a little green in the face. Just like that, Morton was a fluttering bundle of anxiety.

“Astrid?”

“Mor, I—I’m fine.”

The iron koopa’s fists tightened.

“That’s a lie. You’ve been walking on pins and needles all day.”

“Morton…” she shot him an apologetic look, clearly trying to ignore their presence as she appealed to her husband, “I just didn’t want to worry you. You’re already so tightly strung and—”

“I’m tightly strung?!”

Martin sat forward, setting down his coffee cup. The scent wafted over to Astrid, who slid back her chair and stood gripping the edge of the table tightly. Hildegarde’s eyes flashed, knowingly, but by then, Martin wasn’t looking at her. He was focused, as everyone else was, on the brewing argument.

“You’ve barely spoken to me since the bob-omb…s-since we were forced to come stay here.” Morton stood also, sincerity gleaming in his dark eyes. “I love you. I know you’re scared. I’m scared, too. We knew when we decided to take our vows how hard this was going to be, but we did it anyway. And…I know you didn’t want it to come this far. I don’t know how you’re feeling. Going to war against your own family…” he looked at Martin, then had to look away, “I can’t begin to imagine what that feels like, but I can’t even try if you won’t talk to me. If…If I did something wrong…”

“N-no. It wasn’t a-anything you did, Mor. It’s—It’s,” she blinked away tears, suddenly unable to finish.

“Astrid,” Morton’s voice was barely a whisper. It shook as he spoke. “If…If you’re having regrets—”

“NO!” Astrid’s voice wasn’t alone, and the ladies’ combined volume shocked every male koopa at the table. They instinctively shrank from Hildegarde’s fury. She was on her feet and before they knew it, had rounded the table and lay her hands supportively on Astrid’s shoulders. Though there were still tears, Hildegarde’s support seemed to be all she needed to get the words out.

“I’ve lost everything. All the family I ever knew and loved has cursed my name because I chose to be your wife. Was that not proof enough I’ve no regrets? Haven’t I shown that you are more precious to me than any shell of a life I might have lived with them? If you still doubt, then what’s the point? What else is there to give?!”

“Astrid, I love you. I don’t want you to give up anything else for me ever again. You shouldn’t have had to sacrifice what you did. You know that if there were any way I could have negotiated with your family, I would—”

“I don’t care about my so-called-family! I care about you! You’re the one who doesn’t seem to get it. Yes, I sacrificed a lot, but so did you. Your reputation, your family home…”

“I don’t care about that stuff, you know that. I never really have.”

“Yes, but it’s all going to affect our future!”

“Astrid, I don’t care about that, I—”

“You should care!!! You have to! We both have to! Because…because…” she teared up and turned away. Hildegarde held her tight, cooing in low, baying tones.

“Come along, dear. I think you need a lie-down. We’ll be in the sitting room,” she said, authoritatively, taking out her wand and whisking them away with a flick of the wrist. They rematerialized in the sitting room. She sat Astrid down on the lounge chair and urged her to rest her head. “It’s been a very long and emotional evening, Astrid. You should rest.”

“I’d r-rather sit.”

“Alright.” She waited, then asked softly, “Can I sit with you?”

“Yes, please.”

Hildegarde sat down. Astrid leaned against her. She carefully wrapped an arm around the younger koopa. Astrid sank into the embrace with a sigh and dropped her head on Hildegarde’s shoulder sobbing, “Thanks.”

“Nothing to thank me for. You’re family.”

The copper koopa whimpered and a quick look confirmed for Hildegarde the tears had returned.

“You…you don’t h-have to—” Astrid choked.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Forgive my presumptuousness, but I think you a bit overdue for some family support right about now, hmm?”

“Y-y-yeah…”

“How far along are you?”

Astrid gasped, pulling back enough to look up into Hildegarde’s eyes, shocked.

“H-how—”

“When I was gravid, certain smells gave me very bad nausea. Coffee, for example.” She smiled, “I saw you stagger when you caught a whiff of Martin’s cup.”

“I…I’ve only known for about t-two weeks, b-but I—I’ve b-been worried since—”

“The attack that resulted in you three coming here?”

“Y-yes. How do you do that?”

Hildegarde laughed. “Instincts. You were practically feral by the time the boys got you here safe. I was wondering why the attempt to hide a bob-omb in your kart had you that shaken.”

“I,” Astrid averted her eyes, “I know I have to tell Morton, b-but t-then he’ll be as t-terrified as I am or—or maybe worse and—and—”

“And?” Hildegarde prompted.

“…what if he’s n-not happy?”

The blue-haired koopa snorted. “Not happy? Have you seen the way he gets when he’s with my son? Between him and that red-headed king back there, I’ll never need a nanny. You should hear Luddy rattling on. Mom! Mom! Cousin Morton made a xylophone and let me play! Mom, Cousin Morton read me the story and did all the voices!” she beamed and patted Astrid’s hand. “Morton loves kids, Astrid. Even though you’ll face a ton of challenges, Morton will love them just as much.” In a quieter voice, she admitted, “Maybe even more.”

Fear returned to the copper koopa’s face. She shivered and Hildegarde’s deep purr anchored her.

“But what if—” she wiped some tears away from her eyes with shaking hands, “If they have b-both our powers…If there’s any truth to what the stories s-say…”

“They’ll be the most powerful metal wielder in generations.”

“Yes, but, d-don’t you see? That m-makes them a target! My family—”

“Any family who’d hurt your offspring isn’t family at all.” Even as she said it, she got a bitter taste in her mouth and heard her son’s voice in her head. ‘I didn’t do it, Ma.’ He said, referring to the small bruise on his arm, ‘Aunt Rulta pinched me again and it hurt.’ And her own dismissal. ‘Ludwig, don’t be ridiculous, your aunt was just trying to show affection.’ Rulta did the same thing to her when she was a kid and that’s what her mom had always said. They’d never been what you call close, but since her parents’ death last year she’d been trying her best to repair her relationship with her sister out of respect. Now, though, sitting here, speaking with Astrid, she felt like she’d finally caught a glimpse through the leaves at the garden on the other side of the hedge. It was withered and the soil was putrid. She’d talk it over with her husband, but she wasn’t going to let Rulta around Ludwig anymore. She wasn’t quite ready to give up on Rulta altogether, but there was no reason to continue involving her family. Astrid snapped her back to reality.

“Hildegarde?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“I’m terrified.”

“I know, but you’re not alone.”

Astrid chirped appreciatively, then whispered, “But…If s-something happens to us—to me and Mor—what—”

“We should make detailed plans for as many scenarios as possible, preferably with those four knuckleheads present, but I’ll tell you right now: Johann loves Morton, Martin and Bowser like brothers. If anything happens, he’ll do everything in his power to protect your child.” She squeezed both of Astrid’s hands and looked her in the eyes, “I will, too.”

“T-thank you.” Astrid’s copper scales shimmered in the dim sitting room light as she sat up a bit straighter, wearing a brave face. “D-do you think the boys are still in the music room? I…I want to tell Morton.”

“You sure you’re ready?”

“N-no, but I don’t think I’ll ever r-really be ready. W-will you be around? Y-you don’t have to b-be there, but, if you don’t mind b-being n-nearby, I’d—I’d—”

Hildegarde smiled.

“Of course. I’ll wait right around the nearest corner, hmm?”

Astrid nodded, smiling back. “Yes…that would be p-perfect. Thank you.”

“C’mon. Let’s go find that handsome iron husband of yours, hmm?”

They teleported to right outside the music room. Hildegarde motioned Astrid to wait there while she went in. She could hear the careful, if slightly stilted, pace of her little one’s playing. As soon as she entered, it slowed, then stopped when he looked up and saw her.

“Hi Ma! Are you gonna listen to me play, too?”

“Maybe in a few minutes, love, I need to borrow your cousin for a little while.”

“Aww, but I didn’t get to finish!”

“That’s alright, I’m sure King Bowser will let you play on his piano again next time. You can show him then.”

“But what about you?”

She smiled, “If I’m not back in time to see the end of your song, you can play for me later at home.”

“Okay!”

She kissed his blue-haired head, then went and dragged Morton off by the elbow. Outside, she closed the door tightly behind them. Morton immediately locked onto Astrid, who was nervously biting her lip.

“Astrid, I—I’m sorry. You’re right. I had no cause to doubt. I love you and—”

“Mor…There’s something I have to tell you. C-come with me.” She took Morton’s hand. Their fingers laced together. Their eyes locked. He smiled, she blushed, and Hildegarde rolled her eyes.

“Go on!” she urged, shooing them away.

Astrid giggled and dragged her husband down the hall and around the corner. Hildegarde couldn’t hear precisely what was said. She wasn’t really listening, she was waiting to spring into action if needed, though she doubted she’d have to. She heard a telltale gasp, a sharp, choking, desperate intake of air that told her the spring had been sprung. Then something she couldn’t make out, but in a questioning tone. A silent assent must have followed, because after that there was a hard thud. She took a tiny peek around the corner, just to be sure there was no cause for alarm. The two love birds’ lips were locked and their plastrons were pressed flush together. Morton was purring like a motor engine, his gray tail wagging harder than Hildegarde had ever seen before. Hil smiled and retreated silently back to the music room.

Chapter Text

Bowser’s shoulders sank, his fiercely regal head drooped, and the low pained rumble of his voice cut the rapt silence like the roar of a performance engine. He rattled off the details of Morton and Astrid’s plans to disappear and start a new life like he’d been over them a thousand times. He probably had.

Mario had the feeling the king wasn’t really in the room with them at all but sucked back into the events of the past. Thus far the bambini had listened silently, without so much as a single question, letting Bowser fall deeper and deeper into memory. Inwardly, Mario was debating whether he should leave. He wanted to keep an eye on Luigi—to stay close at hand in case his bro needed him—but this wasn’t any of his business. The plight of the extended royal family did not concern him. He was not the one who’d been inducted into the koopaling’s lives. Being here felt a bit like hearing the family in the apartment under theirs back in Brooklyn having an argument. It wasn’t his place. He knew he should ignore it, yet he couldn’t deny wanting to know how it all ended. That and Luigi was looking pale and a bit bloodless. If this went on for more than another hour, he’d have to step in. His fratello needed rest.

“When the conditions were right and everything was finally in place…they made a break for Kong country. By the time they left, they had a koopaling in tow, but they didn’t let that slow them down. New kingdom, new life. Summer, year twelve—almost year thirteen.”

Luigi’s eyebrows furrowed and his dark lashes batted a few times before he asked, a bit hoarsely, “Year twelve?”

“Koopas keep time by ruler,” Morton explained softly, “Dad been king since Junior’s age. This year twenty-three.”

The fog in Bowser’s eyes didn’t quite clear all the way as he grunted affirmation before continuing.

“Plan worked like a charm…for a while.”

Morton curled into Luigi with a whimper. Through chills that weren’t entirely the fever’s work, Luigi clutched the gray koopaling close to his chest. Bowser was staring at the wall opposite Luigi’s bed, somewhere far from here and now.

“Two and half years. We all thought…We’d hoped that after…” the king closed his eyes and grit his teeth, “that it wasn’t all for nothing! That somehow, someway, they wouldn’t find you.” Bowser was speaking to Morton, but everyone including Morton couldn’t quite tell if he was really talking to the kid or the ghost of Morton Senior in the little koopa’s face.

On the far side of Luigi’s bed, every muscle in Ludwig’s body had gone completely cold and sluggish all the way back at ‘Late summer, year twelve.’ Everything said after that traveled through him like musical vibrations, words floating to him on the ether while he stood in an apartment thousands of miles away in a skyscraper in Neo Bowser city. Summer. Year twelve. They’d taken him and spent the season far from home in that apartment. Where he could press his forehead to the great glass window, look down stories and stories to the tiny ant-like figures of koopas on the streets below, and pretend he was flying… Summer, year twelve—

“Ludwig, it’s time to go.” Johann’s voice called softly from behind him.

“Just one more minute? One last time—please?”

Johann sighed, then chuckled and came up behind him with a playful roar.

“RAWR! You really want to fly? Here comes my magical flying spell!”

Luddy squealed with delight as he was suddenly hoisted up onto his father’s shoulders and his dad leaned forward so he could touch the glass.

“Wow…It’s awesome up here! When I’m big I wanna fly like Grampa Kamek! Way, way up into the sky! All the way to the clouds!”

“Is that so?” Johann’s voice was warm and kind, like a hug for his ears. “Then I think someone needs to pay a bit more attention to their magic lessons, hmm?”

“Aww, dad…”

“Little koopas don’t just learn to fly overnight, kiddo. It takes a lot of practice.”

A huff of air and a dry remark from behind them had his father turning around.

“And just what are you two up to, now?” Exasperated as she was with her arms full of luggage, Hildegarde’s tone was laced with amusement.

“We’re just flying one last time! Come on, Mama! Come fly with us!”

“Luddy…”

“Please?”

“Oh, very well.” She rolled her eyes, but capitulated with a bright smile, pulling her son off her husband’s shoulders and putting him on her own. “Where to, captain?”

“Home!” Ludwig said, eagerly, “I’ll fly us all the way home!”

She laughed.

“If only you could, darling, then I wouldn’t have to drive,” she remarked dryly.

“We could always take the train, dear, or ask Bowser to send—”

“Johann, don’t be ridiculous, it’s not that big a deal. Now, listen up, my little pilot. This flight’s coming in for a landing. It’s time to take your bags down to the kart.”

“Aww…okay, Mama.” He was going to try climbing down, but she lifted him off her shoulders and pulled him in, planting a big kiss on his forehead.

“Ma! Yuck! I’m a captain! Captains don’t get forehead kisses from their moms!”

“They do when their mothers love them, Luddy. Don’t they, Johann?”

“More than that…” Johann looked very serious before breaking out in a mischievous smirk, “They get tickles from Dad!” he started stomping and Ludwig shrieked with giggles, racing toward his luggage with his father in hot pursuit.

Bowser’s words floated in, disrupting the memory. “We all thought… we’d hoped that after…”

After…

Tires screaming on pavement, metal crunching and then an impact. He couldn’t hear past the terrible ringing in his ear, couldn’t blink his left eye for the wetness he’d only later realize was blood pouring from his head. He started to cry. He wanted Ma. He wanted Pa. Where…where…his right eye opened a crack. It shot open wide. His mother was leaning across the center console at an unusual angle, twisted backwards, dark eyes flat and lifeless. He tried to recoil, anguished cries he couldn’t hear or stifle pouring from his mouth. He remembered calling out for her, panicked, terrified and—and—he remembered a single sound cutting through the pain and terror—

“Ludwig!”

He wasn’t convinced it was real. Not until he turned his head and his father’s stern eyes sucked him in.

“Ludwig, can you hear me? Can you hear—”

He tried to nod, but it hurt.

“No, no, no—it’s okay. It’s okay. J-just stay still. It’s alright. Everything is going to be alright.”

His gaze drifted back to his mother.

“Ludwig, look at me!”

His father’s anger frightened him.

“Ludwig, keep looking at me, understand? Don’t take your eyes off me.”

“She’s—” his voice sounded wrong. Everything sounded wrong. “Mama—”

“Don’t. Please, Luddy, please. I need you to be strong for me. For your Mama. She wants you to be strong.”

“D-dad—”

“That’s right. It’s okay. I’m right here. Help is on its way, okay? The emergency team will be here soon and they’re going to take you, me and your mama to the hospital so they can make us all better.”

“B-but M-Mama…w-what—what’s happening? Dad! Dad!” he tried to reach for his father, undoing his seat belt, but he would have had to push past his mother’s—

“No. Ludwig, don’t move! Stay where you are.”

“But—but—”

“I said no!”

He flinched and sobbed openly. There was a lull just long enough for a new sound to register. Hard, airy intakes of breath that weren’t his.

“D-dad…what’s that sound?”

“Don’t worry about it. The first responders will get here and—”

“Are we gonna die?”

“No. Ludwig von Koopa look at me.”

He was too afraid.

“Look at me, Luddy. Please.”

He dared to look. Father’s eyes were soft and that voice became as warm and comforting as it had been earlier, even though he couldn’t hear it very well.

“You are not going to die.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know.” Blaring sirens were suddenly getting louder all around them. “There, see? I told you they’d come help us.”

He had very hazy memories of what happened next. Someone talking to his dad through the shattered windshield, saying they were going to get his dad out and…Johann shouting at them to get him first…he remembered the ride to the hospital. The piece of pipe from the bed of the truck that had crashed into them embedded in his father’s chest. How horrible it made Johann’s breathing sound...

Bowser’s words snapped him out of it, if only for a moment, “that it wasn’t all for nothing!”

Another dinner in the royal dining room, different from all the ones before, but by then just another evening pushing food around his plate at an empty table. Bowser’s plate lay abandoned. Kamek had pulled the king out into the hall, but their voices carried through the door. Not that they even realized he heard them. Or that they even cared if he did.

“Don’t start this again, Kamek! I told you, he just won’t talk to me! He won’t talk to anyone! He hasn’t said a word since he got here.”

“It can’t go on like this, Bowser. Something needs to be done. That child is suffering!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” the king roared.

Ludwig flinched, curling slightly into his shell.

“Will you watch your temper! The last thing he needs is yelling!”

“If you’re such an expert on what he needs, then fucking give it to him!”

“He needs a father.” Kamek appealed.

“I’m not his father! How the fuck will I ever be able to—”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before agreeing to take him in!” the magikoopa’s words were sharp and scolding. “I know you’re grieving. We all are. That little one’s world is gone! I’m doing what I can, but I can’t do it alone! Father material or no, he needs you, son. Please. You have to find a way to reach him.”

“Dad…I…I just don’t know how…”

“Follow your heart.”

Ludwig put down his fork, hopped off his chair and left through the double doors at the back before they returned. Later that night, he lay in bed on his left side. He didn’t like laying on his right side anymore. Whenever his left ear was the only one exposed everything was always muffled like he was underwater and sometimes he didn’t even hear people knock on his door or enter his room.

His room was okay. King Bowser and Kamek had moved all his toys and posters from home, but he wasn’t sure he liked them all that much anymore. Anytime he tried to play or even really look at them he felt sad. He wasn’t sure he liked it in the castle, either, with all the hallways and lava…it didn’t feel like home. His stomach growled. He tried to ignore it, but he hadn’t really eaten any dinner earlier, so he couldn’t sleep. He sighed and got up, his blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Was it two lefts and a right or two rights then a left to get to the stairs closest to the kitchen? He couldn’t remember. It was extra dark and the halls were so quiet that with the high ceilings everything felt overly huge and spooky. He didn’t want to get lost, so he decided to take the longer path all the way down the wing to the main staircase. He made it to the top of the stairs and was about to descend when a faint song caught his ear. It sounded almost like…his feet followed the music all the way to a set of familiar red double doors. Music room. He had to use all his little body weight to push it open wide enough to poke his head inside.

King Bowser was seated on the bench, giant claws dancing across the keys, occasionally hitting sour notes and having to go back to restart the section or wipe his eyes. There were tears on his snout.

Ludwig slipped inside and went over. The king was too busy trying to read and play the music from the sheets to notice him. He listened for a few minutes more, before using his little claws to climb the enormous golden leg and situate himself in Bowser’s lap. He could feel the king staring at him, but he didn’t care. He slid as far forward on Bowser’s lap as he could to reach the keys and play the first few notes of the opening theme, following carefully along on the sheet music. He stopped and waited. Bowser didn’t do anything. He tilted his head back, looking up at the king.

Bowser stared down at him looking nervous. Reflecting on it now, Ludwig supposed his dad was terrified of messing things up. The little koopa reached out and tugged Bowser’s nearest claw over to an octave lower than where he had just played and pointed at the sheet music. Thankfully, that seemed to get the message across. Bowser repeated the motif. Satisfied, Ludwig moved on to the next couple measures, then looked at Bowser expectantly. Bowser played. The king hit a few wrong notes here and there, but they just repeated until Bowser got it right, then moved on. This went on for a while until they’d worked their way through all four pages.

Ludwig pointed to the beginning of the first page and guided Bowser’s hands into position.

“Play.”

“I’ll probably just mess it all up.”

He found himself curling with his blanket up against the dragon koopa’s warm plastron.

“S’okay to mess up. Learning ‘s what’s important.”

He remembered the incredible feeling of relief and comfort as Bowser’s purr swallowed him up. He could feel the vibrations even on his left side. He hugged tight to koopa king as the lingering purr and the music swirled and danced. Tears filling his eyes and before he knew it, his little body was wracked with sobs. Bowser stopped playing and he stomped his foot.

“No! Gotta…gotta finish. Gotta—”

“Ludwig…” Bowser carefully put the key cover down and scooped him up, bringing him level with that powerful jaw and purring some more.

Ludwig sobbed and nuzzled against Bowser’s neck and jaw, shaking.

“S’not fair.”

“I know it’s not.”

“Want them back!”

“I know.”

“…Bowser?” It was the very first time he could remember ever speaking the king’s name without an honorific.

“Yeah, Luddy?”

His little face scrunched up even as tears filled his eyes.

“Let’s not play this song anymore. Not ever.”

“Okay, kiddo. From now on, we’ll play whatever you want.”

“No more of—of their stuff. Only…only other music.”

“Okay.” Bowser rubbed the back of his shell through the blanket. “But it’s getting pretty late. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Hungry.”

“Well, I think we can easily do something about that,” the king said, tucking him safely in the crook of one arm and carrying him out the door. “What d’ya wanna eat, bud?”

“Sammiches. I like sammiches.”

“Sammiches?” Bowser repeated, with a grin, “Why didn’t you say so? I happen to be a regular sandwich pro.” Ludwig just curled into the warmth and safety of the king’s arms as Bowser stomped to the kitchen. It wasn’t until they got there and he went to put the little one down that Luddy’s claws dug almost painfully into his scales. The kid looked him right in the eyes with a desperate kind of half-hope.

“A-after s-sammiches…c-can I sleep with you?” The king’s purr had him sobbing in relief.

“Of course you can.”

“Thanks, k-king Bowser.”

“Bowser’s just fine, Luddy.”

“…Okay.”

It took a few more months for the castle to start feeling like home. He and Bowser practiced piano every day. The king was getting a lot better and he was getting a little better, too. He liked that Bowser was really big. It was easy to hide whenever he felt uncomfortable around strangers. Kamek said he still had to have academic lessons. He wasn’t super pleased about that at first having been without them for a while, but when Grampa promised to give him magic lessons, too, he felt better. He practiced magic really hard. He wanted to get really good at it. Bowser said he didn’t have to, if he didn’t wanna, but he really did want to. Magic was cool. Kamek taught him how to use magic to help flowers bloom. He wasn’t really sure why that was useful, but Kamek had laughed and told him it was where every promising young koopa started out. So, he practiced and practiced until he finally managed it. He was so excited he walked right into a meeting between the king and the noble council. Thinking about it still made him shiver. All their stares, all the whispers: ‘Prince Ludwig…the von Koopa’s child…last of the line…nasty scar’

He'd hidden behind Bowser and the koopa king even curled an arm back to further hide him from view, making him feel safe.

“Enough. This meeting is ended.”

“But, your fickleness, we weren’t yet done with—”

“—You are now.” Bowser growled, “I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

As Bowser carried him from the room, gears were turning his little head. Bowser headed across the hall and down the stairs, rumbling at the koopaling.

“You alright, Luddy?”

Ludwig nodded.

“Now, what was it you wanted to tell me, hmm? You looked excited.”

“I did it. I made the flowers open up.”

Bowser stopped moving and stared at him.

“You…already?”

“Mhm.” Ludwig nodded, absent-mindedly, clearly puzzling over something, “Bowser?”

“Yes?”

“They call me Prince Ludwig.”

The king shifted his weight nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well…that’s cuz I’m your guardian, so that technically makes you…” his voice died as Ludwig’s claws gripped his plastron, the tiny tail flicking nervously.

“…King Dad?”

Breathlessly, Bowser answered the call.

“Yes, Luddy?”

Ludwig hugged him close and tight, sniffling.

“T-thanks for—for s-stopping your m-meeting just for m-me.”

“Aww, you don’t have to thank me for that, kiddo.” Bowser purred, nuzzling and scenting him softly. “Wanna know a secret?”

Ludwig slowly nodded. Bowser smiled and leaned in confidentially, fake-whispering:

“They’re really boring anyway. You did me a huuuuuge favor.”

Luddy giggled and a very toothy smile lit the king’s face. He laughed outright when giant hands lightly tossed him into the air and caught him again with ease.

“Now, why don’t we go out to the garden and you can show me how you make the flowers bloom?”

“Yeah!” his tail wagged enthusiastically as he nodded agreement, holding on tight when he was lifted up to get a ride on the king’s shoulder.

A month or two later, Bowser had to leave the kingdom for a diplomatic visit to Sarasaland. Ludwig was supposed to stay behind with Kammy, but he was terrified. He had nightmares every night for a week leading up to the king’s trip. They culminated in him bursting into Bowser’s room in the middle of the night, a shaking, crying, sobbing mess.

“Please don’t go! P-please don’t leave me! I don’t want you to go! I don’t want you to leave!”

“Luddy, hey, it’s okay! It’ll all be okay—”

“NO!” he shook his head side to side, tears streaming down his face. “That’s what—That’s wh-what-d-d-dad s-s-said and he’s—he’s—”

Next thing he knew, he was being pressed into a warm plastron where he could hear Bowser’s racing heartbeat. He whined and clicked in distress and received a comfortingly low rumble.

“Okay. Okay, kiddo. I won’t leave you here, but I really do have to go. I told them I’d be there and a king can’t go back on his word.”

“But—but—”

“If I can’t leave you here, that means you have to come with me.” Bowser looked him right in the eyes. “Think you can do that, Luddy?”

He wiped his eyes and nodded, resolutely.

“O-okay, King Dad.”

“That’s my brave little guy.” Bowser grinned, ruffling his hair, which was finally long enough it covered his scar completely.

A few days later, having been cooped up on the airship for hours, Ludwig was ecstatic when Bowser offered to play with him for a while in the Sarasaland royal gardens. Only, they didn’t get very far in their round of hide and seek before he heard King Dad’s talking to some strangers. Nervously, he poked his head out. One of them was a human. He’d seen pictures of them in books during his lessons with Kamek, the other was a pretty koopa with black hair and round, black eyes. Her tail was wagging. She seemed very excited to be talking to King Dad…

They were really nice. They played games with him for the whole rest of the day! After they finally said goodbye, King Dad stood on the garden path watching them go for a little while. Ludwig looked at Terrenia, who turned to wave one last goodbye. He looked at King Dad who smiled and blushed. King Dad looked at her a lot like his dad used to look at his mom. Hmmm… As Bowser held his claw during the long walk back to the airship, he said:

“Hey, King Dad?”

“Yes, Luddy?”

“Ms. Terrenia’s really nice.”

“You think so, too, huh?”

“Mhm!” he nodded. “And she’s really pretty.”

“Yeah…yeah, she is.”

He giggled. “She can marry you if she wants. I don’t mind.”

“Ludwig! That’s not—” Bowser blustered.

“Why not? She likes you!”

“I don’t know…”

“She does! She likes you!” he repeated, “She looks at you all funny!”

Bowser’s face turned red.

“Well, I dunno about that…”

“And you look at her all dreamy!”

“Ludwig…you’re too little to understand this stuff. She’s just being nice.”

“Nuh-uh! She likes you! You gotta tell her you like her too!”

The king sighed, “Luddy, it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

It seemed Bowser didn’t have an answer for that. Unfortunately, however, Ludwig was unable to convince Bowser to budge, so he came up with a plan of his own. An hour after they got back to the airship, Ludwig snuck out the window of his room and went back to the palace. He had to ask a few folks where Miss Terrenia lived, but thankfully the palace staff were nice enough to give directions without being scary or intimidating. He knocked on her door. She opened it.

“Oh! Hello Ludwig!” she looked both ways down the palace hall, a frown creasing her mouth. “Where’s your father gotten to?”

“King Dad’s still on the ship! I snuck out through the—”

“Ludwig,” her tone was stern, and she bent down to be nearer his level, “What is your father going to think when he goes to look for you?! He’ll be worried sick! C’mon, let’s get you back to—”

“W-wait!” he put on the brakes as she tried to gently hold his hand and lead the way. “King Dad really likes you!” he blurted out.

She stared.

“He’s scared to tell you because he thinks maybe you don’t like him back, but I think you do, so I wanted to tell you! Because he’s shy.”

“Oh, is he now?” She smirked. “He didn’t really strike me as the ‘shy’ type.”

“He is, though! He is!” Luddy insisted. Very reasonably, he added, “You don’t have to marry him or anything, but maybe…if it’s okay…we can write to you every once in a while?”

She beamed at him, purring softly.

“Of course, you can, Ludwig. I’d like that very much.”

“Yay!” he celebrated and she chuckled, then wagged her finger at him.

“But you have to promise me you won’t go running off on your father like this ever again—especially when you’re far from home. You could get lost or hurt and he might not be able to find you. It isn’t safe.”

“But you’re here.”

She seemed gratified he considered her to be someone as safe as his dad, but her expression was still very serious.

“True, but next time you might not be somewhere as safe as this palace. Please promise?”

“Okay. I promise.”

“Good. Now, let’s get you back to your ship before you father pops a blood vessel.”

They were coming up on the ship when an earth-shaking roar hit the air and the airship doors burst open to reveal a stomping, sparking, smoking koopa king. He saw Terrenia, then followed her arm down to the tiny claw she was clutching and the little figure trying to hide behind her legs. All anger and hostility vanished, replaced with relief as he rushed forward and scooped the koopaling up and scenting his little one.

“Ludwig von Koopa, don’t you ever run off like that again! When your grandfather told me you were gone—I—I—” Bowser was choking up. He had to wipe away the tears. Ludwig cried little tears of his own.

“I’m…I’m sorry, king Dad. I just wanted to talk to Miss Terrenia some more...”

“Thank you,” Bowser said to her, his voice thick. “Thank you for bringing him home.”

She laughed.

“What else was I gonna do, big guy? Can’t just keep the little troublemaker, no matter how bad I want to.”

Bowser looked from her to Ludwig, her words having a deeper effect than Luddy’s assurances of earlier. Emboldened, he rather inelegantly took the plunge.

“Um…hey, Terrenia…would you…I mean…I’m super busy and…you’re probably really busy too, but, uh, you wanna maybe write like letters? Or…Or, um, you’re welcome to visit us at the castle if you’re ever in the neighborhood. Y’know…’s just…kid likes ya…so…”

Her smile was wicked.

“Oh, so he’s the only one, hmm?” That grin grew exponentially when Bowser’s entire face turned red and the king coughed out sparks. She laughed. “Okay, I’ll bite. Address your letters to me care of the princess and Daisy’ll make sure they reach me.”

His face was still red.

“Right. C-cool.” Awkwardly, he segued, “So, you busy later?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh.” He was a little disappointed. She rolled her eyes, smiling at him.

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Oh. Uh…wrestling match?”

Swish, swish, swish went her powerful tail.

“You got yourself a date, Mister! Seven-thirty?”

More sparks left his mouth at her pronouncement, but he quickly snapped out of it, smiling.

“Better make it eight-fifteen so I can make sure this little rascal doesn’t try staying up past bedtime!”

“Awwww, but King Dad…”

“No buts! You’re getting your tucks and your bedtime story at eight on the dot and not a minute later after the stunt you pulled today.”

Ludwig pouted, appealing to Terrenia, who wasn’t any help at all.

“Sorry, kiddo. ‘S only fair for sneaking out and scaring your King Dad like that.”

“Grown-ups are no fun!”

“Aww, don’t say that. I was hoping maybe we could play more hide-and-seek tomorrow. But if grown-ups are no fun…”

“Fine, they’re kind of fun, sometimes.”

Bowser laughed and said to Terrenia, “I think that’s probably the best you’re gonna get. Thanks again for bringing him back here.”

“No problem. See you later!”

“Yeah. Later.”

Ludwig was shaken back into the present by Morton’s claws on his arm. His little brother’s face was worried and seemed to be waiting for some kind of response.

“Sorry, what?”

“Luddy quiet…you okay?”

Shivers went down his spine. Everyone but Bowser was looking at him. Saying yes was pointless. Morton would know he was lying. Luigi probably would, too. Also, the plumber wasn’t looking so good. In addition to sallow skin, the human’s forehead glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. The shrewd blue eyes were looking a little hazier than usual. Needs rest, Luddy thought. He was grateful to Bowser for sparing him a detailed recount of his parent’s accident, but much as he wanted to call this painful conversation to an end, there was something he still needed to know.

“Boo implied it wasn’t an accident.”

Everyone except Mario—the only one arguably out of the loop—tensed.

“Is…is that true? W-was there evidence to suggest—”

Bowser’s eyes closed, speaking in a low, airy whisper.

“Yes.”

Ludwig’s eyes widened and he recoiled, shrugging away Luigi’s weak attempt to comfort, coming to a wobbly stance on his own two feet at the bedside opposite his father. Finally, red eyes flicked open, filled with the pain of a decade’s silence.

“I’m sorry. It was your parents’ hard work and planning that made Morton and Astrid’s escape possible. Less than a month after we realized the Malachite had completely lost track of them, you and your parents were…”

“Boo s-said t-there had to be someone o-on the inside. S-someone c-close who—who t-told them it was my p-parents who were responsible for h-helping them escape. S-someone my m-mother t-trusted.” it was hard to speak through the emotional bile that felt like it was eating him up from the inside. Worse still, the pain lining Bowser’s frowning mouth was answer enough. “W-who?” he demanded, his claws flexing and twitching as an entirely new feeling seemed to swallow him whole. Hotter than any anger, wild, insatiable, and enraged: a near feral kind of bloodthirst. Bowser didn’t answer outright. Morton whined in distress, but Ludwig ignored it, waiting like a beast pacing its cage waiting for someone to open the gate and allow it to spring upon its victim.

“We were never able to prove anything.”

“But you had to suspect someone!”

The king’s growl was deeper and harsher than Bowser’d directed at him for a while, probably since he questioned Bowser’s orders back when Mario attacked, which told the teenager that he was on precisely the right track. He retorted with a furious growl of his own. Morton made more objections, louder this time, but Ludwig was too far gone to hear.

“I deserve to know.”

Bowser’s answering stare swirled with as much dark fury and malice as his own, meeting him pound for pound.

“I agreed to tell you whatever was needed for you to understand why I’m doing the things I do and the measures I’ve put in place to keep you safe. Green was right when he said you deserved that much so you could begin to heal.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

Bowser’s fury glowed in the form of flickering embers with every word he spoke.

“I’m not an idiot, Ludwig. You’re not just their son, you’re also mine. I know anger, I know rage, and I’ve known vengeance.”

“I’m not—”

“Really? Then riddle me this: how many times has Morton called your name in the last two minutes?”

Finally, Ludwig turned to look. His eyes widened when he saw pure and utter terror in Morton’s face. The gray koopaling was shaking from head to toe. A breathy, desperate call of his name left his little brother’s mouth.

“L-L-Luddy…”

“Morton…I…I’m sorry. Are…are you okay?”

Morton gingerly crawled across Luigi’s lap, large gray hands awkwardly reaching for him, trembling. He stepped into range and Morton’s hands tugged him onto the bed and into a tight, almost suffocating hug, as the younger koopaling broke out in a chorus of raucous sobs.

“Luddy…Morton s-scared. Luddy so angry and c-couldn’t even h-hear Morton. L-like I w-wasn’t even there and you—so angry…Fighting with Dad and n-not listening…”

“I’m sorry. I’m listening now.”

“…promise?”

“Yeah. I promise.”

Morton looked skeptical. Ludwig supposed he couldn’t blame him.

“Ludwig,” called a very nasally and slightly strained voice that surprised them. Morton slid a little further away from Luigi so there was room for his brother at the human’s side. “Come closer, bambino mio,” the plumber motioned.

Ludwig leaned his face very close to Luigi’s and the man leaned forward to whisper into his good ear.

“This is-a hard, bambino, for both of you. I can’t even begin to imagine how hurt and angry you feel, but I need you to promise me you won’t go looking for trouble.”

It was Morton’s shockingly low growl and the feel of his little brother’s claws digging into his arm slightly that made him realize he was growling right at Luigi’s face. F-fuck. What—what the hell was wrong with him? Blue eyes that had already forgiven him sucked him in. They were desperate, pleading.

“Promise me, piccolo musicista. I—” Luigi choked up a little, “You have to prove to your father and I that I was right. Please, do not make me regret asking him to tell you.”

“I—” his eyes began to water. Luigi looked so frail. He could feel the feverish heat coming off the sweaty creature from here. Luigi should have been devoting what little strength he had to healing, but instead the man had spent this entire time listening to the truth of their pasts to help them. And now…now even though he was still in a bad way, all Luigi cared about was—was—them… “Y-your fever…it’s…it’s worse…”

Luigi smiled wanly, even as Mario rushed forward and Bowser stood, towering anxiously beside the bed while the red-hatted brother tended to his sibling.

“No worse than it was-a last night, piccolo. I’m…I’mma fine.”

“You need to rest.” Mario said, sternly, his blue eyes flicking up to Bowser’s face. They shared a wordless exchange. Bowser carefully reached over and took Morton by the shell, scooping his big, gray son carefully up off the bed. Morton clicked sadly.

“Can visit Luigi tomorrow?”

The king frowned.

“We’ll see. Luddy,” he called, offering his free arm to his eldest. Instead of climbing aboard, Ludwig lingered. The koopaling leaned in to speak to Luigi. He only meant the words for the younger Mario brother, but Mario was close enough to overhear:

“I’m sorry. I can’t promise anything. They should pay for what they did.”

“Ludwig—” Luigi’s hand cupped the side of his face. He lay his clawed one over it.

“I don’t expect you to understand. This isn’t just anger. It’s about what’s right.” he rubbed his head against Luigi’s neck in a very tender way, like he was afraid the human might break. “…I don’t want to let you down, but I can’t just go on like nothing’s changed. Please,” his voice broke. He tried again, “Please get well soon.”