Chapter Text
It’s easy to think of how the Prince’s dearest friend came into their life all that time ago, considering how memorable it was.
It was a long, long time ago, ages and ages before anything truly terrible went wrong in the old kingdom of Verdania, back when it was lush and full of clovers. Fresh off the slaying of the Palestag, freshly crowned, the Princes Green were in far over their heads. Ruling is no simple task, as it turns out- the sheer backlog of things to do the last ruler left behind was enough to make anyone’s head spin.
“You look like you need some help, highnesses!" A bug who was most definitely not in the room 20 seconds ago is perched on the armrest of the twin thrones, a wry grin curving their lips into a smile.
The Teal Prince yelps, nearly jumping out of his seat at the sudden appearance. His counterpart, similarly startled, nearly pulls his blade on the strange intruder.
“Hey- Hey, hey i’m not here to hurtcha! The name’s Leif! Leif the carver. Seemed like you needed some help.”
“And you thought… A good way to offer… Was barging into our throne room and scaring the life out of us.” The Green Prince’s voice carries a carefully applied monotone, tinted with danger, but the stranger doesn’t flinch.
They beam up at the taller bug, in fact, not a shred of anxiety on their face. “Yep! Dunno if you haven’t noticed, but this place is kind of a wreck. I can help. So…”
Prince Viridian of Verdania looks at the mask in the hands of the hunter he thought was his friend. It doesn’t feel real. Nothing feels real, not right now.
It was only a day ago that the long-lost princes reunited with the remains of their people, met the children of bugs they thought long dead. Stoked the fire of a hope long extinguished, rekindled by an old friend.
An old friend that, judging by the mask in the hands of the Red Hunter, is no more.
When they couldn’t find their advisor, the princes, as well as the other Verdanians- gods above, what a statement- searched all throughout Hunter's March for them, coming up empty-clawed. Hoping that perhaps, for some unknown reason, they had made their way back to Bellhart, the Princes journeyed back there to search for them (With the promise that they’d come back to the March as soon as they could, of course. Their people needed them still.)
And now.
“You…”
“It was not my intention to harm them. They… The Void entraps one to a fate worse than death.”
Gingerly, the battered prince takes the mask from the claws of the hunter, so gently it’s almost as if he’s not trusting it to be real. His other half reaches out, supporting a part of it as the pair stare in disbelief.
“You killed them.”
She meets his gaze evenly, though not expressionless. Guilt eats away at her poise, the way it claws away at her clear as day in her expression. “I.. I did. I did not mean to, but I did. I am sorry.”
The Cogwork Prince can’t breathe. He doesn’t need to in order to survive, of course, but the distinction holds an iron grip on his heart anyways.
Anger and betrayal and shocked horror swirl in his chest, alongside a dozen other unidentifiable emotions. Oil collects in the corners of his eyes, dripping down his face in his false body’s mimicry of tears.
Before either realizes what they’re doing, the Princes of Lost Verdania dash forward, in perfect unison as they always are. Ever-prepared, the hunter in red dashes backwards, automatically reaching for her needle as the three prepare for a battle.
“Gurouuu! I hope we’re not interrupting anything?” As if on cue, the frantic waving of a short bug draws everyone’s eyes- but what keeps them there isn’t the bug, not his steed- It’s the familiar figure next to them, holding onto the first two for balance. They look up at the assembled bugs with a half-smile, half-wince.
“Heya. Hope I didn’t miss too much?”