Chapter Text
(Somehow, he did actually have an idea. And somehow, by some miracle, he was finished with it.)
He watches as the sun sets with a sigh, bringing his hands up to smooth out his hair. They sting - he’s poked himself with the needle a few too many times, with too many drops of blood mixing into the fabric and the stitches. It’s a good thing his Archmage can’t use blood magic, or else Foolish would be so completely screwed.
At least, he hopes he doesn’t.
Wait, what can the other even do? He’s shown some of his hand, but not all of it. What if he can kill everyone with the snap of his fingers? Turn someone into a dolphin? Oh stars, what if he can turn someone into a snail?
He shudders, smiling. A fate worse than death, that’s for sure.
…Maybe he should’ve learned Clown’s capabilities before they started to court- actually, there’s a lot he should know but doesn’t. It’s almost like they skipped an entire step…
Oh well! Too late now! There’s no turning back once a courting has started, no matter how little he knows about his partner. Surely this will turn out completely fine! He nods quickly, turning his gaze away from the sun and down to the red fabric in his hands.
He says that, but…
Doubt seeps into his brain - what if Clown doesn’t like it? He already has these and he never seems to change them out ever. What if Foolish was wasting his time making this and Clown would never ever use it? Would he hang it in the closet and let it gather dust? Or maybe even pretend to be happy about the gift only to hate it and break the courtship? Or-
He shakes his head. He’s overthinking this too much. It’ll be fine! Clown will like it, he’ll give something back, and it’ll be as fine as ever!
Foolish looks down at the items in his hands again. Black on one side and red on the other, stitched together with gold and too much blood. The fabric itself was soft, one of the finest he could’ve found in a place like this. It was… ridiculously hard to find, especially in the time crunch he was in, but he was the king! And with that comes the special privileges of finding the things he needs when he needs them.
He sighs. They weren’t his best work. He’s so rusty, he’s surprised he was able to even finish the damn things in time. Well, surprised he was able to even start it and for it to come out… kind of right.
At least it's done.
He stands from his chair, grabbing a bloodied cloth to wipe the rest of the blood from his fingers. Foolish, as much as he would love to, can't keep stalling to give his gift. It would be great revenge for Clown making him wait three entire days, but it's not like the nether-born actually told him when he'd get his gift.
Foolish, foolishly, told him.
He brought this on himself really.
He checks over the gift one last time before he exits his room and heads out towards the tower. Clown may have a room in the castle, but he seems to prefer the thing he built.
Makes sense really. When Foolish used to build, he did the same thing too.
-------
The trip was a short one.
He didn't take his time to stroll (read: get lost) in the castle, didn't stop to talk with Ros or Sneeg or - he shudders - Bad, and ignored Snoozer when the pesky snail made his appearance. He was on a mission! Nothing could distract him.
He fidgets with the box he shoved the items into, making his way to the tower, swallowing thickly when he stands in front of the door. The moon has finally risen, settling into its place in the sky, the only light illuminating his way.
Maybe they should add more torches and lanterns around here.
Ah, that could be saved for a different day.
Foolish raises his hand to knock on the door, only for it to open before he could. There, with his mask skewed and swaying on his feet like he just woke up - he probably did - from a nap, stood the very person he both wanted and didn't want to see.
“My King! I was getting-” he yawns, and Foolish thinks he sways more. “-nervous that you wouldn't show up! I was starting to suspect that you didn't want this anymore!”
“Clown! Just the man I wanted to see! Uh… sorry for the ‘unfortunate’ delay,” he laughs, scratching his arm nervously. “I was just doing last minute checks was all!”
“Last minute checks, or getting your fingers bloodied, Foolish?”
“Uhhh both?”
He doesn't even need to see his face for him to know that Clown is blinking slowly at him from behind the mask, and it just makes Foolish laugh more. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you're the one that made me wait so devastatingly long.”
“You made me wait longer!”
“Completely different!”
“...Sure. So are you,” he pauses, looking over Clown's shoulder. “Gonna invite me in or?”
“Oh! My apologies! Here, come on in! I didn't expect you to ask, or I would've straightened up a bit more!”
“It's not even dirty?”
He looks around the bottom of the tower, seeing it perfectly organized. Boxes are in their own area underneath the stairs, neatly stacked and labeled. There's a desk just to his right, a coat hanger with nothing on it to his left, and the floor looking as if it was just cleaned a few hours ago.
That's just a guess, but from how deshuffled Clown looks, he probably cleaned the entire tower and took a nap.
Maybe right at the desk, if the red blanket had anything to say about it.
“But look at my desk!” It was perfectly clean, minus the blanket, but Foolish doesn't think there's even a speck of dust on it. Maybe Clown scared all the dust away? “It's so… messy.”
“Clown, are- are you serious right now?”
“Very! Should I not be?”
It's Foolish turn to slow blink at Clown, and the nether-born just laughs instead.
…He really enjoys that laugh of his. And his voice. And how comfortable he seems around Foolish. A lot of people are comfortable around him, of course, given he's the king and all, but with Clown it's different. He barely sees - in general, really - him comfortable at all, other than these quiet moments where it's just the two of them.
He doesn't know how to describe it.
“Soooo,” he starts, looking straight at his… partner? Or does that only happen after courtship is completed? Whatever. “Are we gonna go upstairs?”
“Yes! Yes of course! How foo- silly of me to not invite you further. Onwards, my King, to my room!”
“How forward of you, Archmage!”
“You're the one that asked, I think if anyone is forward, it's you.”
“Touche.”
The way up the long, incredibly long, stairs is silent except for their footsteps. That was another thing he likes about Clown, weirdly enough. how quiet he was, and if Foolish watched carefully, he swears that he looked to be floating. Which, obviously wasn't possible, but it was the little things.
Like how he seemed to have a hop in his step whenever Foolish appeared, or how easily he snuck up on everyone and anyone, even those attuned to it like Zam and Bad. It was… impressive. And only slightly attractive.
Just a bit.
“Foolish? Realm to Foolish? You with me?”
“Huh? Oh did I zone out?”
“Define zoned out and multiple that by ten, my King.”
“Oh,” he says dumbly, holding the box tighter in his hands. Right, he almost forgot about that bit. “Shall we, uhm, sit on the bed then?”
“My bed?” Clown looks confused - and Foolish knows he is by the way his head tilts to the side and his voice gets that higher tone - before he nods. “Of course, yes, where else would we have sat? The floor? Simply not possible for my… partner.”
Guess it was partner, even before courtship finished. Good to know!
The two sit on his bed, Clown finally fixing his mask a bit, and it's silent.
Was Clown expecting him to break it first? Or was Clown supposed to break it? And did he have to give the gift to Clown first and then he takes the ingot or the other way around? Maybe he should've paid a little more attention when he was explaining it all instead of zoning out on Clown's pretty eyes. The only things he could see if his face through the mask, and they were so entrancing.
Two different colors, one just a little duller as if he wasn't able to see through it all that well. That was probably the case, considering the amount of times Clown has been a little too caught off guard from things approaching him on the right.
What was he talking about again?
“Uhm, excuse the blood on it, I didn't have enough time to wash them.”
“That's okay, I'll just use it for my magic.”
“Good good- wait, what specifically are you gonna use it for?”
“Nothing to worry about, Foolish! It's just a simple potion that's all. Now, gimmie.” He holds a hand out for the box, Foolish handing it over easily.
He watches with baited breath as Clown gently opens it, tensing even more when he hears a small gasp, and he almost wants to look away, but he doesn't.
He watches as Clown runs a hand along the soft fabric, and he seems almost… memorized. Which is a good thing, he hopes.
The nether-born slowly lifts each thing out of the box, starting with the hat with a little totem trinket at the end, smoothing out the fabric, and slowly, oh so slowly, does he put it on.
Foolish is delighted to know that it fits perfectly.
But then comes the cloak, the thing he was really worried about, and it makes him groan as he sees the blood splotches littered about on it.
“Sorry, again, for the- the blood.”
Clown remains silent, holding the item gently as he runs his fingers over the stitching, bypassing the bits of blood, and pinching it in certain places. Why? Stars if Foolish knows. He sets the box aside gently, standing slowly, and putting it in.
It's quiet except for their breathing.
Foolish is worried that maybe this wasn't-
“Foolish this is…”
“Is it bad? I couldn't-”
“Perfect.”
“Oh.” Huh. He… wasn't expecting that at all. “Really?”
“Yes really! Fuck hang on-” Clown practically scrambles to the other side of the room, bending down at a specific chest and all but throwing it open, digging around inside it. He stands just as quick, shutting it close with a kick to the front, and sits back on the bed. “Here.”
Foolish looks down, and cupped in his hands, is the gold ingot. He takes it slowly, looking between it and Clown repeatedly, before he shoves it into his inventory. “So that's a… a yes then?”
“What else could it be? I didn't throw it out the window, did I?”
“...You got a point there, Archmage.”
“‘Course I do,” and it makes Foolish chuckle, grabbing Clown's hand softly in his own. “How long did it take you to make all this?”
“Uhh,” Foolish looks away, whistling. A chuckle is in his ear and a hand is on his face that has him looking right back at Clown. “Since you left?”
“Did you take any break?”
“Maybe… not?”
“Foolish!”
“I was in a rush! And it- it came out good, didn't it?”
“Well, can't argue with that logic.”
And it's another peaceful silence, the two simply existing in each other's spaces. They moved closer at some point, knee to knee, Clown's hand having long since left his face and now rests at his side, his other hand holding Foolish’s. He doesn't quite know when his… partner - he'll get used to saying it one day - moves the cloak to wrap around them both, but it's comfortable.
There's a soft snoring from next to him, but Foolish doesn't dare move. He was starting to fall asleep as well, leaning his head on top of Clown's, but he didn't. This… they could be in better positions, so he gently shakes Clown awake, the other lifting his head up and trying to rub at his eyes through the mask.
Foolish can't help but laugh at that. With the glare Clown gives him, he's almost worried the gold is going to be taken from him any second.
But it isn't.
He moves them onto their sides, staring at Clown, who reluctantly, grabs his mask and slides it off his face, setting it on the bedside table.
The sight has his breathing hitching and a blush come to his face. He's never seen his partner's face before now, but it… Foolish thinks he just fell in love all over again.
“Will you stay the night?”
“Of course, Clown, anything you ask.”