Chapter Text
This is a story about people, and also about war. But mostly it’s about people (and also ghosts, but we’ll get to that later). It is a story from a kingdom called the Dream Isles, a large grouping of islands that all fall under the rule of Dream, the king who might be described as a little bit unruly on a good day, or mildly tyrannical on a bad one. This nation is full of many strange things. It is full of demons and ghosts and boys who can become foxes, it is full of magic, magic that can be used in a variety of different ways. There is potion making, which is quite difficult and honestly too much effort, there is botanical magic, which is rare and is said to make you go crazy and talk to plants. There is redstone, which isn’t really magic but it should be. There is wizardry (which is mostly just for show) and there is witchcraft (which makes people think you eat children) and finally, there is a strange, primal magic that lies in the monsters and the creatures and the exorcists, who vanquish said monsters and demons and ghosts alike with the power of something ancient that nobody actually understands. But this is not a story that starts with magic. This is a story that starts with a girl, and with a war.
~~~
A girl sits behind the counter of a quaint little bakery in a quaint little town. The doors are open and the scent of icing sugar and fresh macarons wafts out from every window. The early morning sun streams in through the windows, casting its light onto the many colorful boxes on the various shelves of the bakery. Each box is full of handcrafted treats, decorated with such care that each and every intricate detail, each swirl of frosting is absolutely perfect. Every one of the boxes is decorated as well, with pretty pastel ribbons and cute little handwritten labels. There are flowers on every table, neatly arranged bouquets that only make the bakery itself smell sweeter. Behind the counter, the girl fiddles with her brooch, awaiting her customers.
This girl’s name is Nikita Nihachu, though she prefers to be called Niki, and she owns the only bakery in the tiny village of New Mistshire. In fact, she owns the only bakery in all the region, the only others being in the more densely populated areas of the Dream Isles. Niki’s bakery is well known for many reasons, and its status as the only one is only a small part. For one, there’s the food: Niki’s baking is delicious and the decorations she so carefully creates are infamous. Another reason for its success is the ambience, the quiet atmosphere and the relaxing aura of the bakery makes it a popular spot for travelers of all kinds. Lastly, and most notably, is Niki herself. She’s wonderful company and keeps lovely conversation, and she’s been known to offer a free hot chocolate to those in need on a cold night. Niki also just happens to be the closest thing to a doctor that New Mistshire has (the nearest actual doctor is seven towns away). Lately, her medical expertise have become more and more important to the townspeople, likely because of the war raging all over the country. A Revolution had started over in the south, and people were being injured, which had recently become Niki’s problem due to the battles being fought in neighboring towns.
Niki sighs at the thought, she’s never liked conflict, and brushes a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. She has shoulder length honey-blonde hair, which is currently tied into a neat little bun at the back of her head, a few strands falling loose to frame her face. Her plain blue dress and crisp white apron aren’t quite pretty on their own, but she makes them look elegant. She is currently placing her earnings of the previous day back into the chest she keeps under the counter.
The bell rings, signaling that someone has entered, and she pipes up, peering over the counter only to hear a loud thud. She steps away from the counter to see a young boy, likely a few years younger than her, laying sprawled out on her floor. She rushes over and checks his pulse. Alive, but struggling. He’s bleeding from a wound to his side, and Niki carefully pulls him up. She stands up, half-dragging half-carrying the boy upstairs to her guest room. Niki already knows what’s happened to him. She can tell from the uniform and the shiny sword in a sheath on his belt. She wonders whether she’s reacting properly. She should probably be shocked that a bleeding stranger has just collapsed in her home, but these days that sort of thing just happens. In fact, that sort of thing has been happening a lot more frequently.
She wonders how he ended up in this situation, not even eighteen and already a soldier. She shakes her head sadly as she lays him down in the guest bed. Niki grabs her first aid kit from the bedside table, being used to treating strangers in this very room. She gets to work cleaning the wound, likely from a sword slash that he managed to partially dodge, and hums a little tune as she does so. She’s sure he’s going to survive, so she isn’t really stressed about him, having had to deal with worse, you know, amputate a limb or two. When she’s done cleaning the slash, she takes out the sewing kit she always keeps in her apron pocket (“Never be caught dead without yer sewing kit, my girl” her grandmother had told her when she was small, advice that Niki never would forget.)
She stitches the wound closed, and covers it in bandages, and then Niki Nihachu goes back downstairs to do her job.
~~~
That day, she sells several of her treat boxes and fills up a few custom orders as well, and when the day is done she goes back up to check on the boy, only to find him awake. He glares at her, fierce blue eyes meeting gentle hazel ones. She smiles at him, a little uncertainly.
“You’re a bit young to be a soldier.” She says, trying to end the awkward silence
“Everyone says that. I’m not really, there’s kids younger than I am that are fighting as well.” The boy informs her, pouting, ”In fact, I’m the second in command to the General himself!”
Niki nods cautiously.
“What’s your name then, sir?” She asks, reaching for his bloodstained clothes, which she had left on a chair by the window.
“Tommy. Tommy Innit. How about you, miss?”
He has more manners than she’d been expecting from a boy who looks so messy, so full of little bruises and with such unruly hair.
“Nikita Nihachu. You can call me Niki, if you’d like.”
“That’s a very pretty name, Miss Nihachu...” he pauses momentarily, “My brother will be on his way to fetch me soon, I expect. He’s the general.”
“Are you a revolutionary?” Niki asks, as she gathers up the uniform, notcing the navy blue coat.
“Yes, Miss. What are you, Miss, if I may ask?”
“I’m a baker. And a doctor sometimes.”
There is silence for a beat, and then Tommy speaks.
“Are you married?” He asks and Niki finds herself quite flustered, feeling her cheeks heat up.
“No. I-I’m not quite the type of woman that men would like to marry..” She answers truthfully, deciding that he’s just a boy who asked her an honest question.
“...My brother isn’t married either. His name is Wilbur...He’s the general, you know. Perhaps you could marry him.”
Niki laughs, giggling at the boy’s bluntness.
“I don’t think so. I’m probably not his type...”
~~~
In the end, Tommy stays the night at her bakery, politely thanking her for letting him stay as he devours the rather simple soup she had cooked him.
“Do you not get food in the army?”
He glances up at her, his mouth still full of soup
“Not really. We don’t know how to cook.” He admits, shame etched into his features. Niki nods.
“Do you know how to clean your own clothes?”
Tommy shakes his head, embarrassed.
“How about a doctor? Anyone that heals your wounds.”
“...Not really. We’ve got Tubbo. He makes herbal tea...”
“...Do you even have a house?” Niki asks, genuine concern in her voice
He scoffs at her, insulted by the question “Of course we do!”, he insists, “We live in the White House!”
“But you don’t have anyone to cook or clean, and you don’t have a doctor?” She poses.
“Er...No. We usually just eat carrots.”
Niki shakes her head, realizing just how bad it must be in L’Manburg.
“That’s settled then,” She says, “I’ll be taking you back to the White House, and I’ll help you sort that out.”
Tommy stares at her, disbelief in his eyes.
“You’ll what?” He asks, unable to believe her.
“I’ll help your army.” She promises.
~~~
Niki lets Tommy stay in her home for a few days, making sure to write a letter to his brother, who is in fact, actually the general.
Dearest General Soot,
Your brother (Tommy Innit) turned up at my bakery two days ago, bleeding from a wound he sustained during battle. Over these two days, he has explained to me that your army has no cooking experience, no cleaning ability and don’t even have a doctor! I tell you, General Soot, I was quite shocked. I have also discovered that the White House he speaks of is only a day’s journey from the village of New Mistshire, where I am currently living, and have decided that once Tommy is well enough, I shall bring him to you. I have also decided to assist you in your efforts to stop Dream.
Yours respectfully,
Nikita Nihachu
She sends the letter to the White House, and the next day a response arrives
Dearest Miss Nihachu,
I thank you for finding my young brother, and apologize for any inconvenience he may have caused you. Your offer of assistance is much appreciated, and if you would be so kind, L’Manburg would love to have your help. Please keep me updated on Tommy’s condition, and thank you once again
Glowing regards,
General Wilbur Soot
It’s a rather short letter, but Niki doesn’t mind. She continues sending them to him, and he continues to respond, until after a week, Tommy is well enough to travel.
~~~
On the day that Niki is set to leave with Tommy, she stands in front of the mirror in her bedroom. She looks herself up and down, smoothing out her wavy curls and adjusting her light blue skirt.
She is wearing a pale blue dress that was once, many years ago, a bright royal blue. It was her grandmother’s, and then her mother’s and then it belonged to so many sisters and now it was hers. Although it was faded and old, she quite liked it.
She liked to think it made her look like her grandmother. Niki’s grandmother had been a very...sturdy woman. She had dealt with ten sons and four daughters, and had been a doctor for forty years until she died.
Niki remembered her fondly, a tall woman with a hunched back who spent all her time doing things that women didn’t typically do. Like wear trousers under her dress, or swear at her sons. Her grandmother had called her “my girl” and had showed her how to clean a sword wound and how to hold a very nice funeral.
She wears the old pale blue dress with pride, and with the addition of a pair of sturdy boots it’s a good outfit for walking. She puts on a hat, the ladylike thing to do, and grabs her luggage.
When she arrives downstairs Tommy is waiting for her, his injury is fully healed and his clothes are crisp and clean, a noteworthy improvement from when she first met him. She smiles at him.
“Are you excited to see your brother again?” She asks, politely
“Oh yes, I missed him quite a bit- don’t tell him I said that.”
She stifles a quiet laugh with a cough.
On her way out,she locks the door of the bakery, and stops by her neighbor’s house to remind Mrs Perspicacity to water her flowers. When they finish talking to her, Niki gives the old widow a friendly wave and then she and Tommy are off.
~~~
And so, that is how Niki found herself outside the White House, which is much larger than she’d expected based on what Tommy had told her about the conditions in L’Manburg. It was a massive white building, in the center of the city. The walls around it were smaller than those around L’Manburg itself, but they were no less intimidating, made of the same big black stone that protected the whole city. She stands for a moment simply gazing up at the structure, but then Tommy is shouting at her to hurry up as he runs up to the gate.
Two figures are waiting for them there, one of them a short boy that looks to be Tommy’s age, wearing the same uniform as everyone in the army. Next to him is the famous young General. The youngest military leader in the world, with fluffy brown hair and a face that is much more...delicate…prettier than Niki had expected.
He is tall, much taller than anyone else she’s met, and he’s wearing little round glasses. He smiles when he sees Tommy, who tackles the short boy with the brown hair into a hug, knocking him over so that they both land in the mud. Niki laughs at the sight, and walks up to the General.
“Miss Nihachu, I presume?” He says, when she’s close enough to talk to.
“General Soot. It’s a pleasure to properly meet you.” She says, and sticks out her hand. She’s expecting him to shake it, but he instead takes it in his hand and brings his lips to her knuckles. Niki blushes - something she doesn’t often do - and looks to the side in hopes that he doesn’t notice her flustered state. He pulls away and smiles at her kindly.
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for my brother.” On the last word he turns to glare at his brother, who is already covered in dust and is rather violently ruffling the short boy next to him’s hair. “Tommy.” He says, in a tone that makes Niki think of her older brothers.
“Right!”, Tommy says, suddenly looking much more formal, and quite a bit more flustered, “Er..Thank you s-so much, Miss Nihachu...Sorry for intruding into your, uhm, home.”
Niki smiles “Oh it was no bother, I’m used to taking care of strangers...Besides, I’m happy to help!”
General Soot nods at his little brother, then turns to the other boy.
“Introduction” he whispers aside to the other boy.
“Oh! Right! Hello, Miss, my name’s Tubbo. I’m the resident...well I suppose you could call me a botanist...” he sticks out his hand in one awkward, stiff movement and Niki gently takes it, shaking it lightly.
“Really, I’d much prefer it if you all called me Niki, we are going to be working together after all. And besides, I’d like for us to be friends.”
The two younger boys nod, so frantically that Niki has to wonder how they aren’t dizzy.
“If we call you by your first name, it would only be right for you to call us by ours. So please, no more “General Soot”, from now on I’m just Wilbur.” The young man says, fixing her with a smirk. His eyes are tired, she notes, and though he is quite muscular (not that she was looking at his muscles or anything!) he’s also quite thin.
“Now then,” Niki says, “I’d like to meet the rest of your “elite soldiers”, Genera- Wilbur.”
Niki is led into the White House, and it’s interior is just as incredible as the exterior, full of expensive furniture. However, it’s incredibly dusty, a fact that Wilbur keeps apologizing for. She has to tell him that it’s fine several times throughout the tour. Then, she is introduced to a man named Eret, whose voice is surprisingly deep; so surprising, in fact, that Niki spits out the water that Wilbur had given her when he showed her the kitchen when Eret first introduces himself.
Then she is shown the bedrooms, of which there are many (more than twenty!) and soon she finds herself in a study. There is a boy there, no older than twelve, with wavy red hair and a distinctly animalistic look in his eyes.
His teeth are sharp, something that Niki notices when he tells her his name (which is Fundy). He tells her that he’s Wilbur’s adopted son, which only makes her like the young General more. He seems kind, kind enough to adopt a child he found wandering about in the forest, starving and feral.
Once she has been introduced to each and every one of Wilbur’s elite soldiers (the rest of the army lives out in the city of L’Manburg with their respective families, the White House is only home to Wilbur’s most trusted guards.) Niki starts to do what she does best.
She starts out by cleaning the house, which takes her almost the entire day, and then she moves on to cooking. While she makes dinner, she lets Tubbo and Tommy help her, to try and introduce them to cooking. She makes bread from scratch and shows the boys how to do it themselves in case she isn’t there to help them.
Niki makes fresh bread and a simple soup, the same one she had made for Tommy on the night she first met him. She tries to show the L’Manburgians how to do it, but Tubbo is the only one who seems to understand her when she explains it, the others simply staring at her in disbelief.
She resolves that Tubbo will be her cooking protégé, and then she serves dinner.
~~~
Outside of the window of Niki’s new sleeping quarters, cicadas sing their song and flowers bloom in the garden, multi-coloured and gorgeous. Niki stands on a balcony, gazing out at her new homeland.
It’s beautiful, she decides as she admires the moonlit garden of the White House, rolling fields, and in the distance, she sees the lights of the city itself, still bustling this late at night.
It doesn’t feel like a war-torn nation should, Niki thinks, it’s so calm, so peaceful. There are no children crying, no sounds of battle. It’s odd, this late night mist that seems to creep into the whole nation, turning the world silent, making Niki feel as though she’s the only person in the whole world, here on a balcony while the wind whispers through her golden curls, and her almost see-through nightgown moves with the leaves as they rustle from the cool evening breeze.
Niki sighs and steps back into her room, taking a seat at her new vanity and brushing through her hair, staring at her own reflection. For a moment, out of the corner of her eye she sees a silhouette, but when she spins around to find it, expecting some sort of assailant, she is met with empty air. She takes in a deep breath and assures herself that she’s just skittish from the move, the new environment is just making her nervous.
She goes back to brushing her hair as if nothing had happened, and possibly nothing had.
Then Niki Nihachu goes to bed, her first day as a revolutionary complete. The sheets are soft, softer than the ones she’d had back home, and she wonders absently how these people who could not even cook managed to afford such a house, with such high quality accommodations. Before she can ponder it further, however, Niki drifts into a comfortable sleep, the smell of jasmine wafting in through the open window.