Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This is not my idea (this isn't my idea) of fun.” - This Is My Idea, Swan Princess

Arranged marriages were not Max’s idea of a good time. 

Okay, maybe he was jumping the gun a bit. No one was engaged yet, but as King Mickey’s godson Max had been invited to Warnerstock personally. Everyone, even Goofy who usually didn’t care about these things, acknowledged that Max was in with a very good shot.

A very good shot of what exactly? Oh, nothing much, just signing his life over.

Otherwise known as securing an engagement to Prince Yakko Warner. No thanks. Max was seventeen, he had no intention of settling down any time soon, and from what he’d heard neither did Prince Yakko.

But he’d been invited, on personal invitation from King William, so he had to go as Mickey patiently pointed out.

“You’re kidding me!” Max had cried, back in Mickey’s throne room. “No way!”

“Prince Yakko is about to turn sixteen,” Mickey said. “No one’s seriously expecting him to get married yet- or even engaged. It’s just a formality, Maxy, a tradition; he’s just supposed to meet everyone and see if he likes anyone. Nothing formal or serious will be agreed; it’s just to introduce him now that he’s going to be of age.”

“But- me?” Max sputtered. “I’m not even a prince!”

“You’re my godson,” Mickey said with a shrug. “William wrote himself to invite you.”

“It could be fun, Maxy!” Goofy said. “It’s a bunch of parties and balls.”

“It’s dumb,” Max said flatly. “Especially if Prince Yakko doesn’t even wanna go along with it.”

Be that as it may, all the adults agreed that Max was going to go. 

At least he got to bring PJ.

That was how he found himself on a ship bound for Warnerstock, joined by his dad, PJ, and a small group of guards and servants.

This was a waste of time, Max was sure of it. He didn’t want to go and pretend to court some prince he’d never met, and all he’d heard was that Prince Yakko was causing mayhem, pranking every suitor that turned up and declaring them boring, before promptly ignoring them.

He didn’t fancy travelling across an ocean just to get pranked.

Evidently, what Max wanted didn’t matter.

Warnerstock was beautiful, Max had to admit. They docked in a lovely seaside town; it was the middle of summer and bright yellow banners flew high. Flowers were tied to lamposts, the sun shone high in the sky. Everywhere he looked, people seemed to be smiling.

It was a beautiful, happy place, and his own mood darkened as they made their way to Acme Falls.

PJ pointed out historical landmarks, Goofy sang and cracked jokes, but Max couldn’t bring himself to join in.

This was all so stupid. Had they seriously come all this way just so Max could make an ass of himself? At least there’d be plenty of parties to distract himself with, he supposed. Though no doubt, they'd be what he'd dubbed grown-up parties. Parties about schmoozing and pretending to get along.

Politics, Max was sure, were a big waste of time. Especially when the politics involved feigning an interest in some random prince, who doubtless wasn’t eager to meet Max either.

It took two days of travel to arrive in Acme Falls. By the time they reached the city, Max was completely out of patience. He rode on his horse, scowling, a dark cloud over his head that Goofy tried to wave away.

“Jeez, Maxy, any more pouting and that thing’ll start raining,” Goofy warned.

“I don’t care,” Max snapped. Goofy sighed and finally succeeded in waving the cloud away.

“It’s just saying hello and a few parties,” Goofy said, giving him a wry smile. “You like parties.”

“And if I don’t fawn all over this guy then I’ll land Mickey in trouble,” Max pointed out.

“So just act nice,” PJ said. “Smile and nod, and it’ll be over with.”

Max threw his head back and groaned in frustration.

Yes, he liked parties, but he didn’t like these grown-up formal events where there was nothing to do but sit around and listen to people talk about politics. He didn’t exactly relish the idea of arriving only to be pranked by Yakko- or worse, Yakko and his siblings.

Yakko’s birthday was in a week. They were some of the last to arrive.

They rode through the gate, the guards bowing to them. A particularly helpful pair directed them to the stables.

Max had just climbed down off his horse when there was a gleeful shout and another horse came galloping into the stables, barely stopping before running Max and the stable-hand over. 

Max jerked back as the horse skidded to a halt in front of him, tripped over a bucket and crashed right into the wall, landing on his rump in the hay. The stable-hand, meanwhile, had jumped out of the way with what could only be practiced precision.

“Sorry!” the horse rider laughed. He jumped down off his horse with a flourish. He was a toon like Max- and yet not like Max at all. Max wasn’t sure what this kid was supposed to be. A puppy? A rabbit? Some weird cat?

He was tiny, only standing as tall as Max’s chin. His fur was inky black, white on his face; his nose was bright red, his eyes were black. His clothes- a pair of brown slacks and a deep green riding jacket- were mud-spattered and dust clung to his fur. He looked at Max and laughed again.

“My bad,” the boy said, still chuckling.

Whatever was left of Max’s patience promptly vanished.

“Yeah, your bad,” he snapped. He hauled himself up and picked strands of hay from his hair and off his clothes. His dad and PJ entered the stables; behind them two more toons hurried in on horses, miniature versions of the boy. They were also covered in mud and dust, their fur standing on end.

The boy quirked an eyebrow, hands on his skinny hips.

“Jeez, it’s just hay,” he said. “No harm done.”

“That’s what you think,” Max said. He glared down at him. The boy just stared back unimpressed. “Watch where you’re going, would you? You could have ridden me down!”

“Next time I won’t miss,” the boy said flatly. He dusted down his slacks (not that it did much good) and looked at the gaping stable-hand. “You okay?” he asked, much more kindly.

“I- yes, Your-”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. The stable hand said, “Yes, sir.”

The other two toons (the boy’s siblings, Max assumed) climbed down off their own horses, looking at Max with narrowed eyes, clearly unimpressed.

The boy looked Max up and down, then glanced at PJ and Goofy. He spotted Mickey’s insignia on Goofy’s jacket and there was a flash of understanding in his eyes.

“Oh,” he drawled. “Here to pay court to the prince, hm?”

“Sadly,” Max snarked.

“Hey!” the younger toon boy protested. He had the oddest accent. “You’d be lucky if he looked twice at you!”

The girl promptly pulled out a mallet.

“Maxy, be nice!” Goofy ordered.

“Sadly,” the toon boy drawled, sarcasm practically radiating from him. “Don’t worry, buddy, I don’t think he’ll be thrilled with you either.”

“Hey,” PJ spoke up, though quietly. He gave the girl and her mallet a wary glance.

The stable-hand looked like he wished he was anywhere else.

“And I suppose you’d know?” Max asked, copying the boy’s tone and stance.

The boy smirked, amusement glinting in his dark eyes.

“I’d know pretty well,” he said.

“Are you Prince Yakko’s servant?” PJ asked.

There was a moment’s pause before the girl began to laugh. Wrong-footed, Max stepped back, looking at her in bewilderment. The younger boy clapped his hands over his mouth, snickering.

But the older boy grinned brightly. He tapped his nose at PJ. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” He took his siblings by the shoulders and steered them towards the door. “Come on, sibs.” His voice wavered as he fought back laughter. “Let’s go-” He snickered. “Attend to the prince.”

The three of them cackled as they walked away.

Max was left with the horrible feeling that he was missing something. Was that boy one of Yakko’s attendants? If so, he was no doubt going to tell the prince that Max had snapped at him.

Great, Max thought. He began to pull the hay from his hair and clothes again. Just great.

They were escorted to their rooms and allowed to bathe and change before being brought to meet Queen Angelina and King William.

They met in the throne room, a large room with a high-ceiling; a long blue carpet ran from the doors to the matching thrones. Blue and gold banners hung from the walls and a large banner of the Warner crest was behind the thrones. 

Angelina and William smiled at them; she was in a purple gown and as beautiful as he’d always heard. William’s eyebrows and moustache had grown grey, but his smile was warm and welcoming; his red robes were immaculate.

Then the doors opened and, quite plainly, things went to hell.

Three toons walked in, escorted by guards. Max took one look at them and wanted the floor to open up and swallow him as understanding crashed down on him.

The smaller toons led the way; the girl was in a shimmering pink dress and a diamond tiara. She took one look at Max and gave him a mean little smirk, her pretty dark eyes narrowing. She was arm in arm with a boy in a red cap and dark blue suit; his tongue poked out but the look he shot Max screamed trouble. The kids from the stables. It was the kids from the stables.

Oh no, was his only coherent thought.

And right behind them, head held high, a glittering coronet on his head, the Warner badge pinned to his chest and dressed immaculately in green and gold was-

“You?” Max burst out. PJ gave a horrified groan. Even Goofy looked worried, cringing back as the trio- as the Warner siblings- approached.

The boy from the stables, Crown Prince Yakko Warner, gave Max an absolutely vicious smile.

“Duke Max Goof, isn’t it?” he asked, all false sweetness. His bow was mocking, his eyes sparkled with absolute mischief. “Prince Yakko Warner.”

Chapter Text

“At the same time, I wanna hug you, I wanna wrap my hands around your neck.” - True Love, P!NK

Max wasn’t normally one for swearing, but his thoughts pretty much consisted of Fuck and Shit right now.

He was in such deep shit. That annoying brat from the stables was Prince Yakko. The very one Max was here to make nice with, and Max had already pissed him off.

Mickey was going to be so disappointed in him.

Yakko’s eyes glinted with vicious amusement, but he was all sweetness when he smiled at his parents. “We met earlier, Mom, Dad,” he said. “In the stables.”

“Oh, isn’t that sweet?” Angelina said. She looked so hopeful. She had no idea what Max had said to her son; she had no idea that, doubtless, Yakko was plotting a bloody and terrible vengeance. 

But maybe Max was overreacting. Maybe Yakko didn’t have anything planned; maybe he’d just ignore Max from now on.

Feeling incredibly foolish, Max bowed and murmured, “Your Highness.”

Yakko only stared at him. Goofy was wringing his hands. Biting back a sigh, Max held his hand out.

Yakko kept staring at him, everything about him screaming Unimpressed. Wakko and Dot snickered. Angelina’s smile slipped, a little concerned now.

Max gave Yakko a pleading look. Yakko put his hands on his hips.

William coughed pointedly.

Sighing, Yakko held his hand out. Swallowing his pride, Max kissed it. Yakko snatched his hand back pretty quickly, his nose wrinkled in distaste. At least he didn’t wipe his hand on his clothes or shudder. He wasn’t being dramatic about it.

All the same, it was obvious to Max that he wasn’t happy.

“Welcome to Warnerstock,” Yakko said. He swept past and rejoined his siblings.

“Thank you,” Max said through gritted teeth.

“Gosh, you’ve a beautiful country,” Goofy said to William and Angelina, in an attempt to break the ice. Angelina tore her curious gaze away from Max to smile at Goofy.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said. “And how is King Mickey?”

The adults made small talk. The royal siblings took their seats next to their parents, leaving Max and PJ standing behind Goofy.

“I’m dead,” Max whispered to PJ. “I’m so dead.”

PJ didn’t argue. He nodded solemnly, looking at Max like he expected Max to drop dead at any second. “Can I have your carriage?” he asked.

“Sure thing.”

Yakko looked at him and grinned sharply, fangs on display. Princess Dot ran her finger across her throat, smiling sweetly, while Prince Wakko punched his fist against his open palm, smirking at him.

Max, in a show of bravery, promptly ducked behind PJ.

The next half-hour dragged. Max knew he was expected to try and talk to Yakko, but he didn’t dare. What was he supposed to say exactly? “Sorry for acting like an ass.” 

Okay, he should apologise, he knew that. Just not in front of the King and Queen, he’d rather not explain it all to them. As much as Max wanted to go home, he didn’t want to be responsible for them getting kicked out. 

God, Mickey was going to give him those big sad eyes. He wouldn’t say anything, but Max would know. He’d sense the disappointment and that was somehow worse.

He was snapped out of it when there was a fanfare of trumpets and a servant announced a new arrival.

“Her Highness, Princess Sylvia of Ticktockia and His Majesty, King Salazar of Ticktockia.”

Yakko groaned loudly, slouching in his seat. Wakko tugged on his ears and Dot growled. Even Angelina and William stopped smiling in welcome. Goofy rolled his eyes, and PJ was instantly on guard.

As for Max, he was beginning to wish he’d brought his sword to this meeting.

Ticktockia. Everyone knew they’d only been invited as a formality, even Max knew that. No one actually wanted them here. King Salazar The Pushy was an out-and-out ass. He had very few allies; come to think of it, Max wasn’t actually sure he had any at all.

But what Max did know was that Salazar wasn’t friendly with the Warners. He pushed at their borders, he looked down on toons of all types. And his cousin, Princess Sylvia, his only heir and living relative, was rumoured to be exactly like him.

No one seriously expected them to show up.

Princess Sylvia walked in on her cousin’s arm. They had the same wavy brown hair, they were both tall. Salazar walked with his head held high, his crown polished so brightly it almost glowed. His sword was strapped to his hip; a clock pin held his long red cloak in place. Princess Sylvia’s hair was intricately styled; her tiara was engraved with clock symbols, her long red dress trailed behind her.

“King Salazar,” Angelina said, her voice strained. “How...Lovely of you to come.”

“I couldn’t pass up such a prestigious invitation,” Salazar said. He bowed, but the whole thing felt mocking. His eyes passed over everyone else and zeroed in on Yakko. “Coming of age is an important event, especially for a young heir.”

It was like all the joy had been sucked from the room. The Warner siblings had been pulling faces and poking at each other, but now they sat perfectly still. Yakko folded his hands in his lap, head held high, eyes narrowed. Even Goofy looked serious, eyeing Salazar and Sylvia warily.

William’s tiny sigh was barely audible, but Max could hear the reluctance in his voice as he quietly said, “Yakko, greet our guests.”

Yakko stood and, for the first time, Max was struck by something majestic about him. He walked like a prince, everything about his posture was perfect; all eyes were on him and there wasn’t even a trace of a smile on his face now. 

He swept down the dais, barely masking his distaste as he stopped in front of Sylvia.

“Your Highness,” he said. “Thank you for coming.”

Sylvia looked blatantly surprised, looking Yakko up and down with wide eyes.

“Well,” she said. “You’re actually...kind of cute for a toon.”

Dot growled again, gripping the arms of her throne. Wakko scoffed, not bothering to hide it. Angelina’s eyes narrowed, while William tapped his knees impatiently.

“Classy,” PJ muttered.

Huh. Maybe Max wasn’t making the worst impression out of everyone after all.

Yakko just stared at Sylvia with raised eyebrows. “Yeah,” he said flatly. “I’m just full of surprises like that.”

Sylvia held her hand out. Yakko looked at it, smiled and (Max had to bite back a laugh) pranced back to his seat.

“How rude,” Salazar grumbled. 

“We’ll have the servants show you to your chambers,” William said.

“I can’t believe they actually showed up!” PJ said. “They never usually do!”

“I can’t really believe it either,” Max admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. That was something to puzzle out. Did Salazar seriously think his cousin was in with a chance?

At least Sylvia seemed to annoy Yakko more than Max had. The prince had looked at her like she was a particularly annoying pest.

Well, she had spent the whole meeting bragging about herself and Ticktockia’s clock trade. It had nearly put Goofy to sleep.

Ahead of them, the Warner siblings were walking arm in arm. Dot was loudly complaining about Sylvia and her “ugly dress and tacky hairstyle.” Frankly, Max hadn’t seen anything wrong with the Princess’s appearance, but clearly Dot had taken offence about everything to do with Sylvia. 

Yakko was nodding along like his little sister was speaking words of great wisdom.

“Tell me about it,” he said. “Was that meant to be charming?”

“You’re too good for her,” Dot said, nose in the air.

PJ nudged him, nodding towards the siblings. Swallowing, Max hurried after them.

“Hey!” he called. “Er, Prince Yakko?”

The three stopped and simultaneously turned to stare at him. Their arms were still linked.

“Yeah?” Yakko asked.

“I- look, I’m sorry about earlier,” Max said. “I didn’t know who you were.”

“So you regularly talk to servants like that?” Yakko asked, eyes narrowed.

“No! No, I just- I didn’t wanna be here-”

“Wow, could have fooled me.”

“And I took it out on you,” Max finished. He could feel himself flushing under Yakko’s unimpressed gaze. “That, uh...It wasn’t fair. So, I’m sorry.”

Yakko stared at him. Behind Max, PJ was holding his breath.

Next thing Max knew, he was flattened on the ground by a mallet.

“Son of a-!” 

“Ah, ah, keep it kid friendly,” Yakko drawled. He twirled the mallet like a baton, grinning down at Max. 

“You-! I apologised,” Max groaned, un-flattening himself and crawling back to his feet. He rubbed the lump on his head.

“And I don’t accept,” Yakko said cheerfully. “You didn’t think you were getting off that easily, did you?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Deadly serious. See you later, Goof,” Yakko said, linking arms with his siblings again. He glanced over his shoulder at Max and winked. “You old stick in the mud.”

Chapter Text

“So you say I'm complicated, that I must be out my mind, but you've had me underrated.” - Confident, Demi Lovato

“He’s gonna kill me,” Max said, flopping onto his bed. “He’s gonna stuff me in a trunk and then throw the trunk in the river.”

“Getting kind of dark there, Maxy,” Goofy said.

“The look he gave me was feral, Dad!”

“Please don’t call the crown prince ‘feral,” PJ sighed.

“He’s feral,” Max said firmly. “You saw him!”

PJ considered this, twiddling his thumbs. “Okay,” he said. “He definitely doesn’t like you.”

“So we should go home,” Max said, throwing Goofy a pleading glance. 

Goofy smiled in sympathy. “Sorry, buddy,” he said. “We can’t leave until Prince Yakko’s birthday party is over.”

“But that’s a whole week away!”

“Yup!” Goofy said. “So you got a week to apologise!”

“He hit me with a mallet when I apologised.”

“Aw, your mom used to do that to courtiers!”

“Dad. No.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve met anyone impressive yet?” Brain asked, not glancing up from his book.

“Nope,” Yakko said. “They’re all sticks in the mud.” His nose wrinkled. “And no way would I wanna hang around Princess Sylvia.”

“Hm, I have to admit I’m surprised they showed up.”

“Honestly? Think we all are.”

“How about this one?” Pinky hurried out of the walk-in wardrobe, trailing a shirt behind him; it was light blue with sheer sleeves and silver embroidery.

“Uuuhhh, maybe…” Yakko nudged it with his foot.

“Too light and airy,” Dot said. “It makes you look even younger.”

Yakko shrugged, not particularly caring, but trusting his sister’s judgement.

“Sorry, Pinky,” he said. Pinky nodded, tossed the shirt aside and ran back into the wardrobe.

“The Prince from Anvilania?” Brain asked. “Or his cousin, the Duke?”

“They’re boring. All they talked about was the history between Anvilania and Warnerstock- as if I don’t know it all!”

“You wrote three songs about it,” Wakko piped up. He was tossing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth with expert ease. 

“Good songs too, if I say so myself,” Yakko said, preening. Dot shoved him off the bed.

Pinky came running back with a long purple jacket with black lining around the hem. 

“This one?” he asked.

“Too casual,” Dot said, waving a hand in dismissal. Yakko sighed as he hauled himself back onto his bed, glancing at the jewellery box on the vanity, but Dot refused to even glance at any accessories until she’d picked “the perfect outfit.” She’d even dismissed all their servants for the night, proclaiming she knew just what she was doing.

Pinky happily volunteered to go through Yakko’s things with her. It quickly turned into Pinky fetching each and every article of clothing Yakko owned while Dot yay'ed or nay'ed it.

“You know what?” Dot said. “Focus on things in blue and gold. Warner colours; we should make a statement.”

“It’s not too cliche?” Yakko snarked, throwing her own words from an hour ago back at her.

“It’s classic,” Dot said, who had thrown one of Yakko’s favourite blue and gold shirts across the room when Yakko said he wanted to wear it.

Yakko groaned and flopped onto his back. Brain hummed in quiet amusement. 

“Pass the peanuts, bro,” Yakko said, holding his hand out. Wakko dutifully gave him a handful.

“So,” Brain said. “There’s really no one that’s caught your interest?” He sounded uncaring, but Yakko knew him well enough to see the concern in his eyes.

“A lot of them talk to me like I’m stupid,” Yakko said, scowling. “They talk down to me.”

Brain frowned, ears twitching in annoyance.

“Imbeciles,” he muttered.

“I like having fun,” Yakko said, frowning at the ceiling. “That doesn’t make me dumb. I bet I’m smarter than most of them!”

“Smarter than all of them,” Wakko said, rolling onto his side to poke Yakko on the head. 

Yakko smiled, ruffling Wakko’s fur. “Thanks, baby bro.”

“He’s quite right,” Brain said, setting his book aside at last. “You’re incredibly clever. But perhaps being underestimated will work in your favour.”

“Yeah?”

“Indeed. You can get the true measure of someone by how they treat those they consider…” His nose wrinkled in distaste. “Inferior. Many of them have heard of your reputation and have written you off as a trouble maker.”

“By your own logic, the whole ‘inferior’ thing would make you a real jerk, Brain.”

“Perhaps, but at least I am honest about it.”

Well, he was right about that.

Yakko had to admit, not all of them had been jerks; some of them had been nice. But most of them were just dull, all stiff upper-lip and proper. Yakko didn’t have a thing to say to them, and didn’t much care what they had to say either.

At least this was going to be a full week of parties and events, and then to top it all off there was his birthday to look forward to and that was always fun.

“How about the Duke from Fantasia?” Brain asked. “He arrived just before Princess Sylvia, didn’t he?”

“Oh, him.” A sly grin crossed Yakko’s face. “He’s my new special friend.”

“Oh dear. That bad, hm?”

“Yup.”

“Perfect!” Dot suddenly cried, clapping. She jumped off the bed and took the latest shirt from Pinky, holding it up for Yakko’s inspection; a deep sapphire-blue jacket with a swirling gold pattern and a plain white shirt to go underneath, with a white ruffled neck-tie and matching blue pants.

“Sure,” Yakko said with a shrug. “You know best, sis.”

Dot smiled, setting the clothes aside and pranced to the jewellery box. “And now, boys,” she said dramatically. “We accessorise.”

“We’re gonna be here forever,” Wakko said mournfully. “They’ll find our bones in here.” He looked at Pinky and Brain. “Tell Mum and Dad we love them.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Brain said primly. “If you’re not allowed to leave what makes you think we are?”

“Yakko, you’re wearing your crown, right?” Dot asked. The stern look in her eyes told him he was wearing his crown, whether he liked it or not.

He had the good sense to nod.

“Lovely,” Dot said, smiling sweetly. “I know just the pin to match! You’re gonna dazzle 'em!”

“I’ll leave the dazzling to you, sister-sib,” Yakko said fondly.

“Shush. I’m gonna make you fabulous.”

Just the words to send a shiver of worry than Yakko’s spine, but he trusted her. At the very least, he knew she wouldn’t force him into anything truly uncomfortable.

He glanced at the time and rolled onto his back again. No doubt, Mom and Dad would send someone to fetch them soon, or come looking themselves.

He wondered how late he could get away with being.

This was, after all, his week. Yakko was determined to have fun with it.

Chapter Text

“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time, ‘cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style.” - Style, Taylor Swift

As was tradition, the guests arrived first. They lined the walls of the ballroom, while the Warnerstock nobility stood near the dais. Max shifted uncomfortably, tugging on the tight collar of his shirt. Next to him, PJ looked ten times more uncomfortable; he seemed to be trying to disappear into the wall. Goofy alone seemed at ease, chatting with one of the Anvilanian ambassadors. 

Everyone seemed to be gossiping or talking about politics, and it just wasn’t Max’s forte. He’d rather be outside, horse-riding, or with his friends making music. 

He didn’t feel like he belonged here. Bad start aside, he was uncomfortable for a whole host of reasons.

Across the room, Princess Sylvia stood with three of her ladies, King Salazar and his small entourage. She was peering around the room curiously, and for a moment Max thought she...Well, that she looked like a normal eighteen-year-old girl, smiling and sweet. 

Then she caught his eye and her pretty face contorted into a sneer. She scoffed and turned away.

Max scowled, leaning against the wall with PJ. Right, he’d almost forgotten she hated toons.

Finally, the Warners were announced.

There was a fanfare of trumpets and the massive double-doors were pulled open. Queen Angelina led the way with Yakko on her arm, another tradition; after all, this was her country, she was the Warner by blood (something Max knew people like Salazar tended to forget) and Queen in her own right. William followed just behind, with Wakko and Dot on each of his arms. William’s eyes shone with pride; he walked with his shoulders back, chin up, his crown on his head.

You never would have known he was on death’s door a few years ago, Max thought.

Angelina led the way to the dais. Every move graceful and precise, she turned to face the room with a welcoming smile.

“Thank you all for coming,” she said. “I know many of you have travelled a long way to be here, and we are honoured by your presence.” Max couldn’t help but glance at the Ticktockians, but Angelina’s smile never wavered, her gaze never went to them. Instead, she looked fondly at her eldest. “And I believe you are waiting to hear a few words from our heir.”

Yakko rolled his eyes, smiling at her. He stepped forward, standing as tall as he could (which wasn’t much). He looked at everyone with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes, like some big joke was about to be revealed.

Gone were the dusty clothes from the stables. Even his clothes from that afternoon looked shabby in comparison now; he was dressed in blue and gold, a beautiful crown on his head, a brooch of the Warner symbol keeping his neck-tie in place.

It amazed Max that someone so troublesome could look so...So…

Ugh, he was not going there. Yakko didn’t look good, nope, no siree. 

(Okay, so he looked good, but Max wasn’t fooled for a second.)

He listened with half an ear as Yakko welcomed everyone, doing his best not to fidget now that the Warners were here. 

Finally, Yakko grinned and, with a careless shrug he finished; “Let’s party!”

There was a lot of dancing. Yakko loved it.

He danced with his mom first, to start the whole party- yet another tradition, but one he enjoyed- and then his dad, then Wakko, then Dot; then Wakko and Dot at the same time.

After that though, he was expected to dance with their guests, which was decidedly less fun.

Okay, if he was fair, some of these people were actually quite funny. One of the ladies from Burbank, a dog-toon named Darcy, cracked a joke about Scratchy’s terrible toupe, which had Yakko laughing out loud (to be fair, it did look like something had died on Scratchy’s head) while her twin, Lucy, quietly said she thought Yakko and his siblings were very sweet.

They were nice. They were sweet, and funny. 

Yakko glanced to the side and saw Dot dancing with Skippy. Wakko, the lucky little toon, was dancing with Nurse and looked utterly delighted. Yakko couldn’t blame him.

The Prince of Anvilania, Henry, told him he looked nice. His cousin the Duke, Peter, barely spoke. Yakko made sure to stomp on his feet.

It was non-stop, but that was how Yakko liked it. He even spotted Pinky drag Brain into a dance and rushed over to join in, though it was basically Yakko spinning in circles while he held Pinky and Brain on the palms of his hands.

He was taking a break by one of the side tables, eating cake with Wakko and Dot when Princess Sylvia approached.

“Prince Yakko,” she said with a curtsy. Her smile was slightly strained, her gaze still slightly surprised when she looked at him. “You look very, er, handsome.”

Dot scowled at her. Wakko shoved a whole cake into his mouth.

Yakko only gave a small ‘Hm’ of acknowledgement. She looked at him expectantly; smiling, he turned away. Dot giggled behind her hand.

After a moment of hovering, Sylvia sighed impatiently.

“Perhaps we can dance,” she said pointedly. “And get to know each other.”

“Oh, thanks,” Yakko said. “But I already promised I’d dance with-” He grabbed the next person to pass by. “This guy!”

He looked and his forced smile dropped; he’d grabbed Max Goof.

Damn it.

Max blinked in bewilderment, looking at Yakko’s hands on his arm like he wasn’t sure what they were.

“Uh- hi?” Max said.

“We’re dancing,” Yakko told him.

“Huh?”

“We’re dancing.” Yakko dragged him away, ignoring Max’s hissed protests and how the other toon kept trying to pull away.

“Maybe later?” Sylvia called with false cheer.

“A lot later,” Yakko muttered, ignoring how Salazar glared at him. He could hear Wakko and Dot laughing.

“What are you doing?” Max demanded.

“Getting away from the toon-hating princess, duh.” Yakko stopped in the middle of the dance floor and, rolling his eyes, forced Max into position. Max, upon realising his hands were now on Yakko’s waist, promptly went red.

“And why am I here?” Max asked. If Yakko was to give him any credit, he at least started dancing, though he kept looking at his hands on Yakko’s waist with wide eyes.

Yakko shrugged. “You were the first one to walk past.”

“...I’m flattered.”

“Oh because you wanted to dance with me? Pretty sure you’ve been avoiding me all evening anyway- or am I wrong?” Yakko asked, quirking an eyebrow. Max shrugged sullenly, still rather red.

“Well, when you put it like that I sound like-”

“A jerk?”

“Takes one to know one,” Max muttered.

Yakko sighed heavily, stepping on Max’s foot. “You’re a real charmer, Goof.”

“Right back at you,” Max said.

They danced in silence. Yakko’s parents were dancing, they’d been dancing almost non-stop and they looked at each other with stars in their eyes.

Yakko sighed again, watching them. He had the distinct impression he wasn’t going to find anything like that here. 

He looked back to Max, only to find him watching Angelina and William too.

“I thought everyone was exaggerating,” Max said quietly. “How in love your parents are.”

Yakko smiled despite himself. “Never,” he said. “They’re a fairytale come to life.”

Slowly, Max smiled. “They sure look like it.”

“They first got together at one of these parties,” Yakko said, grinning in earnest now. If there was one story he loved, it was this one. “Dad was still a squire; he was meant to be guarding Mom.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “Okay, that’s pretty sweet.”

“Yeah…” Yakko shrugged. “They ended up in a broom closet.”

“Oh my god.” Max threw his head back, laughing loudly. He gave a “Hyuk!” and clapped his hand over his mouth, going bright red again.

Yakko just grinned at him. “Yeah, they don’t know I know that part.”

At the end of the dance, Max bowed. His smile was a little awkward and he stood with his hands in his pockets, slightly slouching. 

“I...Look, I really am sorry,” he said. Yakko stared at him, wondering if he really meant it. He seemed sincere- he also seemed like a high-strung, smug jerk.

He needed to lighten up.

“I believe you,” Yakko said. He winked at Max and added, “But I’ll still be having fun with this, you’re far too easy.”

“You’re a brat,” Max told him flatly.

“Takes one to know one.” Yakko slapped him on the shoulder, cheerfully pushed Max towards Lady Darcy and hurried away to ask Nurse to dance, calling over his shoulder, “See ya, Mr Stick-In-The-Mud!”

“Quit calling me that!”

“That wasn’t so bad, huh?” Goofy asked as they, at long last, made their way to bed. “You even danced with him! You talked!” His eyes were glittering with excitement.

“About Queen Angelina and King William,” Max told him. 

“But it went well, right?”

Max thought it over and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, there were no mallets,” he acquiesced. He scowled and was quick to add, “He’s still a smug brat.”

PJ rolled his eyes and all but shoved him into their shared room.  

As Yakko got ready for bed, William poked his head around the door.

“There’s the man of the hour,” William said fondly. He ruffled Yakko’s fur; on instinct, Yakko pressed up against his hand. “Have fun, Yak?”

“Yeah,” Yakko said. “It was more fun than I thought.”

“And no mallets or explosions! I’m impressed.” William’s smile had a knowing edge. “Anyone you like?”

Yakko’s nose wrinkled. “Not really; not the way you’re thinking.”

“Well, you never know, son. After all, your mom and I met at her coming of age!”

Yep, and you ended up in a broom closet and had to bribe Scratchy not to tell Grandma.

But William didn’t need to know that Yakko knew that, so Yakko just nodded and said, “I know.”

“Busy week ahead,” William said. “So I expect you to at least try to sleep.” William hugged him, momentarily lifting Yakko right up and headed for the door. He paused, holding the handle.

“Remember, Yak, no one seriously expects you to find your future spouse here,” William added gently. “But you do have to take this seriously.”

With that, he was gone.

Yakko waited until he heard the doors to William and Angelina’s room close, and then hurried next door to Wakko’s room, where he and Dot had gathered plates and bowls of desserts.

Sleep, Yakko had always said, was for the weak. If you asked him, the night was still young.

He still had hours with his siblings to look forward to, with all the snacks and games that they loved, and that was always the best part. After hours and hours of behaving, it was just the three of them, free to do what they pleased.

When he walked in, Wakko already had his face buried in a huge bowl of ice-cream, while Dot was slapping him with a pillow.

“Don’t be so disgusting!” she snapped.

Laughing, Yakko ran over and jumped onto the bed, reaching for the nearest plate of cookies.

Yeah, this was always the part he looked forward to the most.

Chapter Text

“They say, ‘Here comes a hurricane! Trouble is her middle name!’” - Trouble, Neon Jungle

No one was surprised to find the three Warner siblings fast asleep together in Wakko’s bed, practically lying on top of each other. Plates and bowls littered the floor, smeared with remnants of desserts. 

Angelina smiled fondly. Some things never changed. Sometimes, when they were curled up together like this, they looked so tiny and young again. Granted, she knew her children were still young, very young; but times like these, she was sharply reminded of them as toddlers, napping together on any available surface.

She momentarily dismissed the maids and woke them herself, gently shaking them awake. 

“Darlings,” Angelina said. “Time to wake up.”

Dot cracked an eye open and yawned. Yakko rolled onto his side, facing away from her.

“G’way,” he mumbled, pulling the duvet up to his nose. “It’s early.”

Wakko kept sleeping, his ear twitching occasionally as he dreamed. For all that her children never wanted to go to bed, they never wanted to get up either.

“It’s nearly ten, actually,” Angelina said. Biting back a laugh, she went to the windows and pulled the curtains open. Immediately, all of them groaned in protest, turning away from the light.

“Get up, you lazy things,” she chided. She pulled the duvet down, laughing outright when Wakko whined and pulled his hat down over his eyes. Dot kicked out, giving Angelina a look that promised retribution. Yakko, always dramatic, hissed like a cat, his fur bristling.

“Come on,” Angelina said, tugging them into sitting up. “There’s a horse race today, remember?”

That caught their attention. Their ears perked up, their eyes brightened- but when they looked at each other they all deflated as they remembered they’d have to behave.

“It was kind of Baron Plotz to host,” Angelina said, though she had to admit she had no fondness for the man herself.

“Yeah,” Yakko said, rolling his eyes. “He’s the pinnacle of kindness, old Plotzy.”

“It’ll be fun, little one,” she said.

“The race?” Yakko asked. “Oh, definitely. But if one more person talks to me like I’m stupid-”

“Or calls you little,” Dot added.

“Or calls me little,” Yakko continued. “I’ll-”

“Don’t forget if they brag about themselves,” Wakko said, rubbing at his eyes.

Yakko nodded. “Or if they brag about themselves,” he said, hands on his hips. “I’m breaking out the mallet. And it's only been a day, Mom!”

“At least try to stick to pies, darling,” Angelina said, poking him on the nose. “Now hurry along; your baths are all ready for you.”

Horse races were always fun when toons were involved. Toons meant tricks. Toon racers (and toon horses) meant the usual rules went flying out the window- indeed, the laws of science and gravity often went out the window as well.

Angelina and William knew their children well; they needed to be entertained, or they’d lose focus on the race and find their own entertainment. If they did that, disaster would ensue. 

Today was an all-toon race. A human and toon one was planned for later in the week, though on a smaller scale. But today? Today they were on Baron Plotz’s land, by a race track thrown together by toons. The hurdles would have been impossible for humans to jump. There was a pond to jump over, filled with bright orange piranha that jumped insanely high. There was a ring of fire and giant axes swung down from trees.

In other words, it would keep Yakko, Wakko and Dot’s interest. 

“It looks good,” William said, surveying the unusual track with a smile.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Plotz said, bowing with his usual smarmy smile. “I hope the prince enjoys himself.”

“Your staff did vell,” Scratchy said, peering around through his thick glasses. “Zey vorked fast.”

Right behind Scratchy, Salazar looked at the scene with barely-concealed shock.

“How...unique,” he said. 

Duke Goofy leaned over the fence, grinning. “Oh, look, there’s piranha!” 

“One of Pinky’s suggestions,” William chuckled. 

“Pinky?” Salazar asked.

“One of the children’s companions,” Angelina said with a bright smile. “He’s very creative.”

“...No doubt, Your Majesty.”

The track was highly unusual, though nothing a toon couldn’t handle. The prize however, was normal; a trophy, some money, and the usual flower-crown and necklace. They were toon-flowers, so they’d last much longer than usual and came in a bright variety of colours.

Salazar was still eyeing the track warily. William was petty enough to admit he enjoyed the man’s discomfort.

The royal box was absolutely massive, even bigger than usual; they’d had to put together a bigger one to accommodate all the visitors and their various companions and entourages. 

Dot fidgeted as they waited for the race to start. Looking uncomfortable she gave a quick, “Be right back,” and hurried off.

“That’s one hell of a track,” Lady Darcy said with an approving grin. She leaned forward from her place behind Yakko, putting her head between Wakko and Yakko. “Look at the size of those axes!”

“It seems dreadfully dangerous,” Princess Sylvia said.

“Not for toons,” Darcy said, waving her hand in dismissal. “You watch, they’ll be fine.”

“This must have taken ages to finish,” Lady Lucy said, eyeing it all curiously.

“Weeks of nonstop work,” Yakko told her, grinning. “I’m still surprised Plotz offered.”

“Well, it’s an honour to host the royal family, is it not?” Sylvia said. “He should be proud.”

Yakko glanced at her, lips pursed, then shrugged. It was a harmless comment, he supposed; no toon-hate to be found really. “It’s Plotz,” he said. “He’s not normally into races.”

PJ, sitting next to Max, was already biting at his nails in anxiety. Yakko eyed him warily, wondering if he should offer the guy a paper bag.

The racers were in position and Yakko frowned, looking at the curtain to the box. Where was Dot? For once he couldn’t just go racing after her, this whole thing was for him.

Then Wakko gasped and slapped his arm, pointing at the racers.

Yakko looked and grinned.

There was a tiny racer right at the end of the line, on a bright pink unicorn with a golden horn and blue eyes. The racer had their hat pulled right down over their forehead, and a cape covering most of their outfit- but Yakko could see the tips of their ears and the tell-tale shape of their tail. He could see their bright red nose, and the flower on their hat.

His little sister was off like a shot when the gun went off, her unicorn leaving rainbow sparkles in its wake.

Yakko and Wakko stood, cheering and clapping.

“Go, go, go!” Yakko shouted, punching his fist in the air. Out of their guests, Max was the first one to realise what was really going on.

“No way!” Max stood, gripping the railing. He laughed and said, “Is that your sister?”

“Surely not!” Princess Sylvia cried.

Darcy whooped in glee, joining them in standing. “Look at her go!” she laughed. 

PJ covered his eyes with his hands, and immediately peeked through the gaps in his fingers. Lucy was gripping his arm, eyes wide as the racers came to the first hurdle: the first pond of vicious piranha. 

“Mom and Dad will get a hoot out of this!” Yakko said, smiling so wide it hurt. Wakko summoned a little Warnerstock flag and waved it, shouting their sister’s name at the top of his lungs- a rare feat if ever there was one.

Dot must have heard them, because she blew them a kiss, waving.

“Eyes on the track, young lady!” William shouted.

Even from the box, Yakko could hear Dot laugh.

The next hurdle was a wall- a wall nearly as tall as the palace walls. Some racers’ horses, being toons, could climb the wall like cats. Others did gigantic jumps and landed light as feathers. One eager racer ploughed straight through the wall like it was paper.

But Dot? She nudged her unicorn on faster, leaning forward, her cape billowing behind her. Yakko leaned forward, watching eagerly. His baby sister didn’t disappoint: her unicorn grew wings. They were massive, soft-blue wings that matched its eyes; the rainbow sparkles in its wake became an entire rainbow arching over the dirt where its feet hit and up into the air as the unicorn- as the pegasus- soared into the air and flew over the wall.

Darcy threw her arms into the air and screamed, “GO, PRINCESS, GO!”

Lucy gave a startled laugh, pointing at the pegasus. “My goodness, where did she find him?”

“Knowing Dot?” Yakko beamed with pride, unable to look away. “She probably just shouted for him and he appeared.”

“She’s brilliant,” Max said. “PJ, look at this!”

“She’s gonna fall,” PJ said, covering his eyes for real now. “She’s gonna fall and break her neck.”

Yakko’s grin was sharp. Like Wakko, he summoned a Warnerstock flag and waved it proudly. “Never,” he said.

The way Dot saw it, it only made sense. This was all meant to be for her brother, right? This whole week, all these events, they were meant to be for Yakko. These racers had all eagerly put their names forward; it was a chance to show off to the royal family, to have a moment of fame. If you won, you could proudly say you had raced in the Crown Prince’s honour.

And who better to race for her brother, to win for her big brother, than her?

This was all meant to be for Yakko and she wanted him to have fun. She knew he’d have fun with her and Wakko. Dot knew her brother like she knew her own mind, and she’d known as soon as all the planning began that Yakko wouldn’t like people pretending to like him, or to kick up a fuss about his so-called honour.

Dot liked him. She loved him. She wanted, simply, for her big brother to have a good birthday week. Forget the stupid suitors and politics; this was the type of stuff they all enjoyed. This was the type of trick that had both of her brothers screaming for her to win. Her parents cried her name, cheering her on. Yakko screamed and cheered for her so loudly that Dot was sure they’d hear him in the town square, and she urged her pegasus on, grinning.

She soared through the ring of fire, her pegasus racing ahead of the others. A rainbow streamed behind them as they flew. They dodged in and out of the swinging axes, they jumped over hurdles and boxes of lit dynamite and flew over craters and ponds filled with piranha, and another with a single giant shark that tried to swallow the racers whole. 

Dot laughed in triumph as they reached the finish line first.

Confetti flew out of cannons and sparklers went off as the crowd cheered for her. Their oh-so fancy guests gasped and clapped, calling her name. She could see Pinky jumping up and down, and Brain clapped with all the rest. Even that boring Anvilanian prince was on his feet, cheering.

Dot gave them all her best gracious wave, her head held high, giving them her cutest smile. A princess through and through.

It was down to Angelina and William to present her with her prizes.

“You,” William told her with a smile. “Are a trouble-maker through and through.”

“But I’m cute,” Dot said, smiling sweet. “So it’s okay.”

Angelina laughed and placed the flower-necklace around her neck, the flower-crown on her head. Dot held the pouch of money with one hand and the trophy with the other.

“I think that’s enough of an allowance for the month,” Angelina said, nodding at the pouch. “What were you thinking?”

“That Yakko would enjoy it,” Dot said honestly. Angelina’s smile softened; William nodded in silent agreement and Dot jumped back onto the pegasus, leading him over to the royal box.

The flowers were lavender and blue; she knew who’d like them best.

“That was brilliant, Dot!” Yakko said, beaming at her, stars in his eyes. Wakko’s tail wagged as he smiled at her, leaning over the railing.

Dot ignored everyone else’s comments and compliments, and focussed on her brothers. Smiling, she slipped the flower crown onto Yakko’s head and the necklace around Wakko’s neck.

“For the honour of the princes,” Dot said, mimicking Plotz’s snooty voice, nose in the air. She grinned when Yakko laughed. Wakko squeezed her hand, eyes shining.

“You’re the cutest little champion a prince could ask for,” Yakko said, kissing her cheek. “Thanks, Dot.”

As Dot did her (much calmer) victory lap, Max turned to Yakko, unable to keep quiet.

“That,” he said with utmost seriousness. “Was amazing. Your sister’s amazing.”

Yakko touched the flower-crown; everything about him seemed softer, almost glowing as he watched his little sister. Wakko was still waving his little flag.

Yakko turned to him and, for the first time, kindly, genuinely smiled at him.

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “She is.”

Chapter Text

“I was an impossible case, no-one ever could reach me, but I think I can see in your face there's a lot you can teach me. So, I wanna know, what's the name of the game?” - The Name Of The Game, ABBA

Wakko wasn’t stupid, nor were Yakko and Dot. Liking to have fun didn’t make them stupid; they were actually very clever. Honestly, Wakko thought they were pretty obvious. They could ramble off facts about the world, life, history and philosophy; they could write songs on the spot and figure out difficult problems within minutes.

Scratchy once called them “lazy-crazy geniuses.” Wakko guessed that was a good enough description. They were all clever, but didn’t really care about being clever. They liked being funny a whole lot more.

They weren’t stupid. They weren’t oblivious.

So Wakko saw that Max Goof no longer glared at Yakko or tensed whenever Yakko passed. When Yakko threw a jibe his way, Max responded in kind and Yakko seemed to prefer that. Well, Yakko did always say it wasn’t fun if their special friend couldn’t (or wouldn’t) fight back.

Wakko knew that Yakko wanted this whole week to be fun, to be one big game. It was his birthday week, so it was only fair. Besides, Wakko didn’t care about politics and everyone kept saying this was all a formality and Yakko wasn’t seriously supposed to find a partner just yet, but…

Well, Max was probably Wakko’s favourite so far. He really liked Darcy and Lucy, but Max was fun. Fun to mess with and he’d been the first to realise Dot had joined the race.

Wakko had heard what Max said; that Dot was amazing, what she’d done was amazing. He agreed wholeheartedly and so did Yakko.

Clearly. Because Yakko smiled at Max, the flower-crown slipping down his forehead and- 

Oh, Wakko thought. Max was smiling right back, looking genuinely friendly, the friendliest he’d looked since he got here.

Slowly, Wakko smirked. Maybe Max wasn’t such a stick in the mud after all.

After the race, the rest of the day was more relaxed. Most of the gossip was now centred around Dot and her victory. Yakko’s little sister stood in a crowd of admirers, preening under their praise. 

He shook his head with a smile. Typical Dot. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

There were no big dances planned for the evening, no stuffy formal luncheon in the palace. Instead, there was a much more relaxed buffet outside in the gardens. Yakko stood with Wakko, watching Dot with amusement. Wakko still had his flower-necklace and Yakko still had his flower-crown.

“Your sister was brilliant,” said Prince Henry of Anvilania. He’d been dreadfully boring until now; now his eyes shone with amusement and he’d been cheering with the rest of them.

“Too right,” Yakko said proudly. Wakko was stuffing his face with cupcakes, but he paused to nod enthusiastically.

“Do you ride?” Henry asked.

It took every ounce of Yakko’s restraint to not shout, “Goodnight everybody!” Wakko smirked at him and Yakko fought to hold back the laughter bubbling in his chest.

“I do,” he told Henry, lips twitching.

“Perhaps we could go horse-riding tomorrow?” Henry asked. “Schedule permitting, of course, and with your escorts.”

Yakko did enjoy horse-riding. And little did Henry know that Yakko had a habit of giving any and all escorts or guards the slip and riding like the wind with his siblings.

Speaking of…

“And with my siblings,” Yakko said. Henry glanced at Wakko, then across the garden at Dot. He looked to his cousin the Duke, who was staring at them. He turned back to Yakko and nodded.

“It’s a date,” Henry said.

Wakko snorted and chugged some lemonade. Yakko raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“Is it?” he asked.

Henry seemed to realised what he’d said, because he went bright red. “Well, of course not like- like that, I simply- hm...” He ran a hand through his hair. “I look forward to it, Your Grace.” He bowed and quickly excused himself.

“He’s easy to freak out,” Wakko said.

“Very,” Yakko agreed. “He squirms like a worm on a hook.”

“A charming comparison, my young friend,” came Brain’s voice. He and Pinky stood by Yakko’s feet. Pinky was nibbling on the remains of a cookie.

Smiling, Yakko leaned down and placed them on his shoulders.

“I’m chock-full of charm,” Yakko said in his best ‘posh’ voice, nose in the air. 

“Of course,” Brain said. “You are the epitome of grace and charm.”

“Prince Yakko?”

Yakko bit back a groan and turned to Princess Sylvia. Her hair was elaborately braided; a diamond brooch shone on her chest and her necklace had a clock pendant. She looked pretty but, as always, there was a strained edge to her smile when she looked at him, a forced cheer in her eyes.

“Princess Sylvia,” he acknowledged. 

Her eyes flickered to Wakko, still packing away the snacks. Her eyebrows rose and she looked absolutely baffled when she looked at Pinky and Brain.

“I was hoping to speak with you,” she said. She gave Wakko, Pinky and Brain another wary glance and said, “Alone, if possible?”

Yakko frowned, though he knew he’d avoided her long enough. Any more and Salazar could easily complain to Yakko’s parents about the treatment of his cousin.

He placed Brain and Pinky onto the table. Wakko chewed more slowly, eyes narrowed in distrust. Brain frowned heavily and Pinky simply looked nervous.

Yakko did his best to show no emotion at all; he wasn’t very good at it, it wasn’t natural to him, but he tried to turn his face into a calm, polite mask.

“Sure thing,” he said. “Lead the way.”

She only led them a few paces away, closer to the trees. 

“I’m aware our countries do not get along,” she said right away. “And I am aware of my...reputation. And of yours.”

“Right,” Yakko said. “What about it?”

Sylvia pursed her lips. “I want what is best for my country,” she said. “For my people. Reputations are doing neither of us favours. So, I propose a truce.”

“A truce?” Yakko repeated.

She nodded. “We are royalty,” she said. “A new generation. I will be Queen of Ticktockia and you will be King of Warnerstock one day. We ought to at least get along.”

For a moment, rare as it was, Yakko didn’t know what to say. He stood there, hands clasped behind his back, considering her words.

He believed her when she said she wanted what was best for Ticktockia. But what exactly was best for Ticktockia, Yakko couldn’t be sure. He didn’t remember much of William’s illness, but he remembered the rumours of war on the horizon, all thanks to King Salazar.

Yakko wasn’t stupid enough to trust her based on a few pretty words. He was skilled at talking to get his way too after all.

But she didn’t need to know that.

So he smiled and adjusted the flower-crown. 

“Truce,” he said with a shrug.

Smiling, Sylvia curtsied.

“Have a good day, Prince Yakko,” she said and left, heading towards Salazar. The King was frowning at Yakko. Yakko thumbed his ears at him, grinning outright at the scandalised look on Salazar’s face.

Yakko was making his way back to Wakko when a warm hand grabbed his arm.

“You okay?” Max asked. “I saw Sylvia, I wasn’t sure if I should jump in or not.”

Would surprises never stop today? Yakko looked at him in surprise. He grinned. “She says she wants a truce,” Yakko told him. “I smell a rat.”

Max nodded, glancing towards Sylvia, biting his lip. “Yeah, no kidding,” he said. “She hates toons.”

Yakko looked at Max’s hand, still clasping his arm. He took in the Utterly Serious look on Max’s face and his grin widened.

“What, you were coming to play white knight?” he asked, winking.

Max scoffed, letting him go- but he grinned right back. “As if you need a knight!” he laughed. 

Despite himself, Yakko’s mischievous grin softened into something real.

As if you need a knight. Max had no idea just how right he was- and yet, Yakko appreciated it. He was surrounded by protective, fussing staff every day. People took one look at him, tiny as he was, and assumed he was weak. Yakko was much smaller than Max, only standing as tall as the other toon’s chin (and he’d admit that grated on his nerves) and Max admitted that Yakko could handle himself.

Damn if Yakko would tell him any of this.

“I could send an army running in terror,” he told Max with mock solemnity. “Just give me a gag-bag and five minutes.”

“You’re a brat,” Max said, but he was still smiling.

“And you’re a stick in the mud,” Yakko said cheerfully. He brushed past Max, his arm grazing Max’s. He paused and glanced back. “But thanks.”

He didn’t wait for Max to respond; he hurried back to Wakko’s side.

Dot was making her way to her Wakko when she spotted Princess Sylvia talking to Yakko. Growling under her breath, Dot began to storm over, but the Princess walked away without incident and Yakko didn’t look too annoyed.

And then Max Goof caught her brother’s arm. 

Dot wasn’t dumb. She loved a good sappy romance novel; she could quote romantic plays by heart, if only to annoy Wakko. They all three loved fairytales. 

Max wasn’t looking at Yakko like he was a total pest anymore. There was something different. Not fond exactly, but...Impressed? Amused? Maybe a bit of both.

Whatever Max said had Yakko smiling brightly.

Well, well, well, Dot thought, hands on her hips. What have we here?

Dot had never known Yakko to let a special friend off the hook without public humiliation, but her brother was smiling, and Max was smiling and-

Oh, she thought. Her eyes narrowed and she rushed to Wakko, Pinky and Brain.

“You saw that, right?” she asked as Yakko walked towards them. She watched Max Goof and the smile on his face, the new gleam in his eyes as he watched her big brother walk away. Yakko glanced back at him.

“But thanks,” she heard Yakko say.

Max’s smile widened. He rubbed the back of his neck, still watching Yakko. It wasn’t until his dad joined him that Max shook himself out of it, scowling at the ground as though embarrassed to be caught enjoying himself.

“I saw that,” Wakko agreed.

“Most interesting,” Brain said, rubbing his chin. 

“What was that?” Dot demanded when Yakko joined them.

“What was what?” Yakko asked. He grabbed one of the miniature sandwiches, leaning casually against the table.

“That!” Dot cried, gesturing towards Max with both arms. “You didn’t mallet him!”

Yakko looked at Max. He popped the sandwich into his mouth and shrugged. He took his sweet time eating it and Dot tapped her foot impatiently.

Just as she was about to pull out her own mallet, Yakko spoke up.

“We’ve got a truce.”

A truce? A truce? Yakko Warner did not agree to truces. He was all or nothing. He once pretended he hadn't broken his arm for a whole hour in order to continue a prank war.

When Dot tore her confused gaze away from Yakko, she once more caught Max looking at him. He had a funny look on his face, like Yakko was a particularly confusing puzzle, one he couldn’t figure out.

“A truce,” Dot repeated. She looked at Wakko and they both grinned in silent agreement. “Sure thing, Yak.”

Yakko’s eyes narrowed. “What are you planning, sibs?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” Dot said sweetly, crossing her fingers behind her back. “We just want you to have a good time.”

Chapter Text

“That's where I'm gonna be, because I wanna be. No, I don't wanna sit still, look pretty.” - Sit Still Look Pretty, Daya

The day’s schedule had all been planned: the Warners would have a private breakfast as a family and, while any ambassadors or escorts or dignitaries made nice with William and Angelina, Yakko was expected to get to know his so-called suitors. It was, in theory, meant to be a relaxed day, but it promised to be a day of non-stop movement, constantly rushing around to get to the next person on schedule.

It was one of those days where the activity was chosen by the respective suitor. For Yakko to get to know them, or whatever. In theory they were meant to pick something they enjoyed. Yakko was also pretty sure some of them would just choose something they expected him to like and spend the day lying through their teeth.

He made a brief list in his head: he liked Lucy and Darcy. Lucy was shy and sweet and surprisingly witty. Darcy was loud and opinionated, constantly cracking jokes. He wouldn’t mind spending the day with them; he already considered them friends.

Prince Henry was...Okay. He’d seemed dreadfully boring and stuffy at first, but he’d also been impressed by Dot’s little display at the race, so who was to say really? He could surprise Yakko after all.

Max was Max. He was fun (and far too easy) to rile up. He was Mr Stick In The Mud, but he was also quite friendly when the mood suited him. If he didn’t spend so much time scowling and trying to be cool, he might actually be fun. 

There was Sylvia. Yakko didn’t trust her yet. He wondered if he ever would. If she was sincere, then good for her. If not…

Well, expecting the worst wasn’t gonna do Yakko any favours. As for the others, Yakko didn’t really care one way or another. They mostly tried flattering him (or rather, his parents), or spoke to him like he was a particularly dim child, or watched him warily like he was a bomb about to explode.

Not exactly Yakko’s idea of a good time.

At least Wakko, Dot, Pinky and Brain would be with him the whole time. “For propriety's sake,” Angelina had said, unable to keep from giggling just like Yakko.

He was just getting out of bed when there was a knock on his door and Pinky’s cheerful voice called out, “Yoo-hoo! Yakko! Yakko, Yakky-Yak!”

“I’m coming!” Yakko called, rushing over. He opened the door and looked down; Pinky stood at his feet, balancing a present over his head. It was a bit bigger than Yakko’s hand, wrapped in red paper with a gold ribbon.

Ticktockia colours, he recognised right away.

“Where’d you get that?” Yakko asked, bending down to take it.

“Narf! One of Princess Sylvia’s ladies gave it to me,” Pinky said. If he noticed how Yakko tensed and frowned at the little present, he didn’t comment.

Half-expecting a bomb (and Yakko had plenty of experience there), Yakko unwrapped it. Inside the little box, cradled by purple paper, was a pocket watch on a glittering chain. It was white-gold, studded with diamonds shaped to form a W, engraved with tiny suns and moons. Inside the box was a note.

Yakko unfolded it and read it. The note merely read “To better times.” It was signed by Sylvia.

Frowning more than ever, Yakko set it on his desk. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring at it. It didn’t vanish and it didn’t blow up. He wasn’t dreaming, so it stood to reason that Sylvia had actually sent him a gift.

Pinky climbed up onto the table to look at it. “Oh, that’s shiny!” he said happily, but when he saw the note, even he looked concerned. “Uh...That’s nice of her.”

“Maybe,” Yakko said. The pocket-watch still hadn’t blown up. “And maybe not.”

“You think she’s lying?” Pinky asked.

Yakko nodded. He put the lid back on the box and went to his wardrobe. “Guess we’ll see,” he said. “But I’m not gonna spend the day worrying about her.” Because the thing was, there was no way Sylvia could have had that made in less than a day, not unless she employed toons- which she didn’t.

So that pocket-watch had to have been commissioned some time ago. 

No, Yakko didn’t trust her. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

But he could play along for now.

Prince Henry and one of his guards stood by the stables, watching as Yakko approached with his siblings. Brain sat on his shoulder, while Pinky sat on Wakko’s head, lounging across his hat. Two guards trailing behind, keeping a respectful distance.

“Prince Yakko,” Henry said, bowing. “It’s good to see you.”

Yakko returned the bow, turning as a servant brought the horses out. “You too,” he said, and it wasn’t a total lie this time. Would wonders never cease?

The horse-riding started off tame. Just trotting through a nearby park; the guards rode behind them. Henry kept a steady pace with the Warner siblings, his red hair gleaming when the sun hit it, casting some strands in gold.

He was quiet at first; he kept opening his mouth like he was about to speak, but he never did. The silence was starting to become excruciating. Yakko was actually starting to think he might welcome conversations about the weather, when Prince Henry finally spoke up.

“Princess Dot, may I ask where you got that pegasus?”

Dot grinned, eyes sparkling. “A girl has her ways.”

Henry shook his head, but he was smiling a little. “And you, Prince Yakko? Have you ever raced?”

“We all have,” Yakko said. He grinned at Dot proudly. “But not quite like that.”

“Oh? How would you usually race then?”

The Warners grinned sharply.

“Like this!” Yakko said cheerfully. In a flash, the three of them raced ahead, kicking up dust in their wake. Yakko heard one of their guards swear, while another simply groaned in defeat. Henry’s made a strangled noise, an odd sort of gurgle.

“Your Highness!” Prince Henry cried in shock- but he surprised Yakko by rushing after them. Yakko glanced back to see Henry quickly gaining on them; he looked utterly determined and serious, as if it was an important competition.

In moments, Henry caught up with them. The four of them raced across the park, over the hills and past the ponds. Deer scattered, citizens cried out in surprise and jumped out of the way. Many more simply pointed and gaped.

“So,” Henry said with that grimly determined expression still on his face. “This is how you race?”

“Pretty often,” Yakko said, laughing. With a whoop, Wakko jumped over the next hill, taking the lead. Dot hurled a pie after him, but Wakko twisted around in his saddle and swallowed it whole, waving at her as he raced ahead.

The funny thing about Henry was that he still looked so serious when he said, “This is fun.”

Yakko would take that as a victory.

Their fur was windswept and Henry’s hair stood on end as they returned to the stables in the early afternoon. Dust clung to their clothes, and a mud had spattered across Wakko’s trousers when Dot yanked him off the saddle at the end of the race. 

She was never the most graceful of losers. 

Wakko, never one to take things lying down, had promptly dragged Dot into the mud with him. When Yakko started laughing they tried to drag him down too, which led to them chasing after his horse as he ran in rings around them, loudly laughing at them. Henry had watched, looking a little bewildered; Pinky had cheered both Wakko and Dot on, while Brain watched quietly, a small smirk on his face. Their guards had been utterly exhausted and fed up.

“This was...interesting,” Henry said as the stable-hands led the horses away to bed cleaned and fed. “Most enlightening.”

“Enlightening?” Yakko repeated, snickering.

“Indeed.” Henry bowed. There was a trace of a smile on his face. “Good day, Your Grace.”

Yakko couldn’t bring himself to say “Good day” but he gave Henry a small bow. “See ya,” he said, wiping at the dirt on his jacket and only succeeding in smearing it.

Henry nodded, bowed to Wakko and Dot and left with his guard. Was it Yakko’s imagination, or did he not look so stiff? 

“He doesn’t walk like he’s got a stick up his butt anymore,” Yakko said, making Dot, Wakko and Pinky laugh.

“Children, please,” Brain sighed. He looked them all over and shook his head. “Come along, we’d better get you cleaned up.”

“Who’s next?” Dot asked.

“Princess Sylvia,” Brain said. “So we’d best be punctual.”

“Or we’d best be late,” Yakko muttered, thinking of the pocket-watch. He’d have to let his parents know about it later.

Yakko sat at his desk, his chin resting on his hands, looking at the watch lying in its little box. He was freshly cleaned and dressed, and Pinky sat on his shoulder.

“Are you gonna wear it?” Pinky asked.

“Nah,” Yakko said. He left it where it was, heading next door to Wakko’s room. “But I’m gonna show Mom and Dad.”

“She said she wants to be friends, right?”

“She said she wants a truce,” Yakko corrected. “That’s not the same thing.”

Well, he was about to go downstairs to meet up with Sylvia. If nothing else, it may be an opportunity to figure out if she was sincere.

Oh great, Yakko thought. It’s politics after all.

Chapter Text

“It's so easy to make believe, it seems you're living in a dream. Don't you see that what you need is standing in front of you?” - Something That I Want, Grace Potter

Sylvia was, once more, fantastically dressed in the colours of Ticktockia with jewels in her hair and a ring on almost every finger. Salazar stood by her side, a hand on her shoulder. He too was dressed to impress in an ermine-trimmed cape and a bright blue outfit, his crown on his head and his facial hair neatly trimmed.

Only a few steps away were Angelina and William. Yakko wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to his parents looking so serious; the fact that they stood there in silence was a surprise in itself. They were usually happy to talk to anyone- or practically anyone at least. Clearly Salazar and Sylvia were an exception.

The cold looks on his parents’ faces vanished when he, Wakko and Dot joined them, replaced with the warm, gentle smiles he knew so well. Dot took William’s hand, giving the Ticktockian royals a suspicious frown.

Dot was so going to flip out about the watch.

Syvlia’s smile was, as usual, slightly strained around the edges, not quite meeting her eyes. 

“Well, you look-” There was a brief pause, her hands clutching her skirt. “Handsome.”

Gee, don’t hurt yourself, Yakko thought, distinctly unimpressed. He summoned a winning smile.

“I like your dress, Your Highness,” he said. At least that much wasn’t a lie; it was a pretty dress. It wasn’t the dress’s fault that Sylvia set off Yakko’s Stranger-Danger instincts.

Sylvia held her hand out. Salazar gave him a pointed glare.

Biting back a sigh, Yakko waited for as long as he dared (until Angelina nudged him) to link his arm with Sylvia’s. He couldn’t bite back his grin when Wakko linked his arm with Yakko’s free one, pretending to not see the irritated look Sylvia threw him. Then again, it was Wakko; he may genuinely have not seen it, or simply not cared.

Out of all the proposed activities, Yakko hadn’t expected Sylvia or all people to suggest a lunch with their families. A few other suitors had suggested similar activities; a walk around the gardens, a picnic, dinner, or outright requesting a meeting, but those people were known Warnerstock allies. Ticktockia? Not so much.

They had lunch set up on a veranda; a table had been dragged out and a canopy set up to keep the sun off their heads. 

Yakko did his best to pretend Salazar wasn’t there; the guy gave him the creeps. He was, of course, seated next to Sylvia, with Wakko on his other side and Dot right across from him.

“Did you like the watch?” Sylvia asked.

“It was pretty,” Yakko said, which was true enough. His gut instinct was still to hand it over to Brain and have him pick it apart, to see if there was anything weird about it. A small part of him felt guilty for that thought; after all, if Sylvia was sincere about wanting to get along, then Yakko being suspicious of her would hardly help.

And yet she still looked so insincere when she smiled; her conversation was quiet, brief and to the point. She looked at the Warners like she wasn’t totally sure what they were.

She looked at them with a barely-there frown, like she didn’t want to be here either. Maybe she didn’t.

Yakko wondered if he was being too suspicious, if perhaps the ingrained distrust of Ticktockia as a whole and his dislike for Salazar was speaking for him, getting in the way of any real rational thought.

Then again, Yakko had never been one for rational thought, as the council was always despairing. 

But he didn’t like being so suspicious either.

“What watch?” Dot asked, eyes narrowed.

“A gift,” Sylvia said, sipping her water. She looked Dot up and down and gave another of those strained smiles. “An olive branch.”

Wakko ate a whole plate of cupcakes and Yakko turned away from Sylvia, looking towards the garden and the horizon. 

No, he didn’t like feeling so suspicious, but with Salazar staring at them it was hard not to.

Yakko wasn’t the only one with questions.

The children were all gathered by the veranda’s edge, chatting among themselves. More accurately, Angelina’s children were talking and Princess Sylvia watched them, sometimes offering a comment on what a good job their gardeners had done, but otherwise keeping silent.

“King Salazar,” Angelina said with her sweetest smile. “I do have to admit, I was surprised you accepted our invitation. You’re not normally one for social gatherings like this.”

“As I said, Your Majesty, it’s a most important event,” Salazar said. There was an icy glint in his eyes she knew too well. “It’s not every day a future King comes of age; he and my cousin will be rulers one day, it’s best for them to get along. What better way to sow those seeds than to introduce them now, while they’re still young?”

Angelina hummed thoughtfully.

Dragon shit, she thought, keeping her pretty smile in place, hand in hand with William. 

Her children didn’t remember William’s illness very well, but Angelina would never forget. She’d never forget how, what started off as a simple cold, spiralled until it nearly cost her William’s life. She’d never forget her husband collapsing out of nowhere in the middle of their private living room; she’d always remember how she caught him and screamed for help, begging him to wake up.

She’d always remember Salazar’s troops closing in on their borders as news of William’s illness spread. She’d always remember the speeches this King gave, about how toons had no right nor reason to rule over humans. 

Angelina would always remember the “accidents” their scouts met; the rockslides in the mountains, their supplies mysteriously missing; men turning up injured or dead, or simply vanished into the night, never to be found again. It was nothing they could concretely prove, but everyone knew it was all done under Salazar’s orders; when they argued against his men being so close to the border, he merely pointed out that they hadn’t crossed the border.

They have committed no hostile acts, he wrote. Angelina had torn that letter to shreds and thrown the pieces into her fireplace.

When William slowly began to recover, the “accidents” stopped. The speeches continued as usual, but there were no longer any actions to backup the words. The troops went home, keeping their usual distance.

King Salazar of Ticktockia was not their friend or ally. 

Angelina didn’t want him looking at her children; she didn’t want him in her home. That invitation had been extended as a courtesy to another sovereign and they all knew it. Surely Salazar knew it. Was he simply here to rile them up, to make them all uncomfortable?

Salazar was staring at the children, his speculative gaze on Yakko. Their eldest glanced over his shoulder, caught the King’s gaze and scowled, quickly turning away.

“Important,” William mused. “That’s a good word for it.” His smile was sharp, a hint of his fangs on show. “He’s an heir to be proud of.”

“Indeed,” Angelina said. She stood as tall as she could, glad she’d worn her crown today. “They’re brilliant, all three of them.” She let her smile widen, just a little. “They mean the world to us, but I’m sure you don’t need to be told that, my lord.”

Salazar nodded. “It’s only natural, Your Majesty.”

“We would do anything for them,” William said. 

“As I would for my cousin,” Salazar said. “She is all I have.”

It would have been a much sweeter sentiment, were it not for the rumours of how the rest of Salazar’s family met their ends.

All the same, Angelina was sure they’d gotten their point across. They meant it, they would do anything for their children. Angelina was not a violent woman, nor was William a violent man, but Angelina would burn cities to the ground if it meant keeping Yakko, Wakko and Dot safe; she’d bring down mountains for them, tear the stars from the sky, so long as they were safe and happy.

No, she did not trust Salazar and neither did William. Scratchy had ranted and raved against the man’s presence. But he was here and so they had to put up with him.

For now. If he put one toe out of line, they wouldn’t hesitate to throw him and his cousin out.

But until that happened, Angelina would stay smiling and keep one suspicious eye on Salazar, her husband and children safely by her side.

Yakko felt like he could breathe again when they left Sylvia and Salazar, after escorting them back to their chambers. 

“She sent you a watch?” Dot demanded, hands on her hips.

Angelina and William froze. “She what?” William asked.

“I was gonna tell you later,” Yakko said, frowning at Dot. He sighed and turned back to his parents. “She says she wants a truce. It’s on my desk if you wanna see it.”

“I think I would,” William said. “I would indeed.”

“Maybe it’s spying on you!” Wakko said. “That would be cool.”

“No, Wakko,” Dot said flatly. “No it wouldn’t.”

“That went well,” Salazar said, lounging in his chair. “Or as well as anything involving the Warners can.”

Sylvia hummed thoughtfully, staring out the window. As she watched, the Warner siblings burst from the front doors and bounced down the steps, to meet up with the Goof boy from Fantasia.

“Do you disagree, little cousin?” Salazar asked. He picked up his book, not looking at her, though there was an edge to his voice.

“No,” Sylvia said slowly, thoughtfully. “I think it was...interesting.”

Max waited on the front steps with PJ, hands in his pockets and tapping his foot.

“You’re making me nervous,” PJ said, watching as Max’s tapping got faster and faster.

“Everything makes you nervous,” Max pointed out. He felt uncomfortable, fidgeting and tugging on his high collar. His dad had insisted he had to look nice and while these clothes may have been expensive, Max was pretty sure he looked like an absolute dork. There were frills on the sleeve and his dad had rubbed some sort of sweet-smelling oil onto his hair, trying to make it lie flat with no success.

The front doors of the palace were flung open and the Warner siblings ran out into the sunshine, interrupting Max’s (brooding) thoughts.

Yakko bounced down the steps chanting, “Boingy, boingy, boingy!” in tandem with his siblings. He did a front-flip when he reached Max, landing with his arms outstretched and a blinding grin on his face.

“Mr Stick In The Mud,” he said in greeting. “What’re you wearing?”

“Brat,” Max returned; he could feel his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. He put on his best haughty voice; “I’ll have you know my dad chose this specially for me, show some respect.”

“Oh, of course,” Yakko said with mock-solemnity. He bowed as extravagantly as possible. “Then please accept my most humble apologies, Mr Fancy Stick In The Mud.”

Max lips quirked up, and he fought to keep from smiling. PJ watched them curiously.

“So where to?” Yakko asked.

Max shrugged. “I’ve never been to Warnerstock before,” he said. “We, uh- we were hoping you’d show us around?”

The Warners looked at each other and Max was once more left with the uncomfortable impression that they could read each others’ minds. After a moment, they turned back to him and PJ, smiling.

“Sure thing!” Yakko said. To Max’s growing surprise, Yakko grabbed him by the arm, pulling him along. Dot grabbed his other arm; Wakko held her hand and grabbed PJ. In an odd little chain, they headed for the gates.

“Anything you wanna see first?” Yakko asked.

“Uh, anything really,” Max said. “We’ve only seen the palace and the race track, so…” He trailed off, trying to think. “Can we start with the town square? Dad says there’s usually a lot of free entertainment on?”

“There is,” Dot said proudly. “Especially during summer.”

“So you’re in luck,” Yakko said with a wink. “Let’s go!”

Acme Falls was everything Max had been told about; it was beautiful indeed with bright ribbons and flowers were tied to every lamppost. He could see some kids drawing on the pavement with chalk and lights strung up on various storefronts, though none were lit now. An absolutely massive toon-guard was directing traffic, dressed in a blue uniform.

“Hellooooo, Ralph!” the Warners cried.

“Huh?” The guard looked around quizzically, though he smiled when he saw them. “Duh, hi, Warners!” He waved happily- a big mistake, as a cart nearly drove straight off the road to avoid a boy on a bike that he’d inadvertently directed forward. PJ winced, covering his eyes with his hands.

“Eyes on the road, Ralph!” Yakko called. He led their group across the road. Everyone they passed bowed or curtsied, or called out in an effort to catch the royal siblings’ attention. Everyone was smiling.

Huh, Max thought, not quite surprised, but unsure of what he’d expected either. From what he’d seen of the Warners they thrived on chaos, but their people certainly seemed happy to see them. They seemed like they loved them. Which was a good thing, obviously, but...still…

A little girl darted forward with a shy smile, holding three yellow flowers in her tiny hands, which she held out to the Warners.

And so Max was treated to his first real sight of the Warners interacting with their people.

Dot took the flower with a graceful curtsy and cute little smile. “Thank you,” she said, voice sweet as sugar.

Wakko tucked his flower into his cap, right behind his ear. His tongue poked out more than ever. “Faboo,” he said, beaming at the girl.

Yakko accepted his flower, smiling. He bent down and poked the little girl on the nose with it, his eyes softening. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Lorna,” the little girl said, ducking her head, her smile growing. “M’name’s Lorna, Your Highness.”

“That’s pretty,” Yakko said, standing up straight again. “And it’s very sweet of you, thank you.”

The little girl gave a wobbly curtsy, her cheeks bright pink. Giggling, she ducked back into the crowd, waving at them as she hurried away.

Yakko slipped the flower into his pocket. “There’s usually music in the square,” he said. “We could go there first?”

“Sounds good,” Max said.

“Y-you’re, um...You’re all really good with them,” PJ said, gesturing to the people of Acme Falls as a whole.

“I’d hope so!” Yakko laughed.

“Duh,” Dot said, batting her eyelashes. “Who can resist us?”

Wakko nodded so vigorously his ears flopped about. “Mum and Dad always tell us to take care of them,” he said.

“Yeah?” Max asked.

“Yeah,” Yakko answered. He took Max’s arm again and pulled him along. “Like they always say, they’re our people; they’re our responsibility.”

And one day they’d be Yakko’s responsibility. It was a weird thought.

He let Yakko pull him along and, as promised, there was a band in the square. Plenty of people were already dancing; it was a jaunty little tune that had Max tapping his foot in time with the music.

More and more people were pointing and staring as they realised the Warners were present, but the siblings hardly seemed to notice. Dot was dancing in place and Wakko was humming along, clearly familiar with the song.

Before Max could say anything, Yakko darted forward, joining in with ease. A few people laughed fondly and the girl Yakko paired with didn’t seem too surprised to find him there. Max wondered how often the Warners did stuff like this, just...hanging out with their people. Having fun.

Because he had to admit, it was fun.

Yakko looked at them and gestured them forward. “Come on!” he called.

“Oh dear, I don’t know,” PJ mumbled. Max glanced at him worriedly and, before he knew it, someone gave him a sharp push forward. The force of it nearly knocked him off his feet, but Yakko caught him, keeping him up right.

Max looked up from the ground and gulped, startled to find Yakko’s face only inches from his. He jerked back- but he didn’t leave the dance. Just like before, Yakko guided Max’s hands to his waist, an almost challenging glint in his eyes.

“Well?” he asked.

Max grinned. “Let’s dance, brat.”

He didn’t notice Wakko and Dot high-five.

“Did you just push him?” PJ asked. He immediately felt stupid for asking; after all, he’d just seen Dot push his best friend into the crowd.

“Who, me?” Dot asked; she radiated innocence, turning on the puppy-dog eyes, pouting. “I’d never.”

Wakko snickered. He summoned a sandwich and tucked in, chewing happily.

Wringing his hands, feeling increasingly uncertain and uncomfortable, PJ watched Max dance with Prince Yakko. Whatever Max said had the prince laughing loudly, head thrown back. Max grinned at him, his long coat flaring out as they spun.

A lightbulb flickered to life over PJ’s head. Wakko grabbed it and swallowed it whole.

“Oh,” PJ whispered.

“Oh,” Dot echoed with a smug smile, arms crossed. “Yeah, we noticed yesterday.”

“Oh,” PJ repeated helplessly. “Max, he- and uh...And the prince…?” He looked at the little Warners questioningly. 

“Smitten,” Dot confirmed. “He just doesn’t know it yet. We’re gonna make them know.”

“Make them?” PJ asked.

Wakko nodded. “Dot says Yakko’s kinda dumb sometimes,” he said with a fond smile.

“Boys,” Dot scoffed. “You’re all dumb.” She turned to PJ. “You want in?”

“In?”

“In. In on our plans. You’re Max’s best friend, you can help.”

PJ considered it. It was probably a very bad and very foolish idea. Teaming up with the Warners and trying to make Max actually talk about his feelings? Surely it was a recipe for disaster.

But then Yakko smiled up at Max, not so teasing, not so sharp. Something in Max’s eyes momentarily softened.

“I’m in,” PJ said.

Wakko and Dot gave him big mischievous smiles and he wondered if he’d live to regret it.

Chapter Text

“You're so gorgeous; I can't say anything to your face, ‘cause look at your face. And I'm so furious at you for making me feel this way. But, what can I say? You're gorgeous.” - Gorgeous, Taylor Swift

William didn’t know what to make of Princess Sylvia. As promised, Yakko had handed the pocket-watch over to him and Angelina. It was, for all intents and purposes, harmless. Still, it didn’t sit right with him.

Brain, always keenly curious (and protective, even if he wouldn’t admit it), offered to take the watch apart and study it. William had turned the offer down, though a little paranoid part of him was tempted.

It seemed like a normal gift. An olive-branch, a courting gift. The sort of present you’d expect from a princess, from one fellow heir to another.

William didn’t like it. Angelina liked it even less. She’d spent hours pacing up and down their bedroom, her dress trailing behind her, her eyes narrowed; her tail swished, her fur bristled.

“They don’t seriously think Yakko will choose her, do they?” she eventually blurted out. She stopped dead and shrugged, her arms spread wide. The look she gave William was one of complete bafflement.

“Surely not,” William said, though he paused to consider the idea. Maybe. Just maybe…

“It’s Salazar,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. He could feel a headache building. “He’s certainly arrogant enough to expect it.”

“But is the Princess arrogant enough to expect it?” Angelina asked. She began to pace again, quicker and more agitated. “If Salazar expects to get his hands on our son, he’d better think again. I'd never consent to a match between them.”

The mere idea was enough to have William reaching for his sword.

Angelina stopped again. She strode to the doors and stuck her head out into their living room and addressed her ladies in her usual kind voice; “Be so good as to fetch Pinky and The Brain or me, won’t you?”

“Do you think they’ve seen something, darling?” William asked.

“No,” Angelina said. Her eyes gleamed, her worried frown was replaced by a smirk. For all that people said Yakko resembled William, he’d certainly inherited his mother’s expressions- particularly that scheming look. “No,” she repeated. “But I think they could.”

Yakko stood in front of his mirror, turning left and right, peering at himself from every angle. 

“You’re sure about this one?” he asked Dot.

“It’s your favourite colour!” Dot said brightly.

That was true. Dot had practically shoved this shirt into his arms; it was silk, flowing and loose, a soft shade of lavender. The suit itself was a very pale grey. He wasn’t so fond of the purple cravat, but Dot had stuck a little diamond pin in it, looking very proud of herself.

Yakko turned to her and Wakko, hands on his hips.

“And, uuuuhhhh, why the renewed interest, sis?” he asked. Other than the opening dance, Dot had left Yakko to choose his own clothes in peace.

“Because,” Dot said and shrugged.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Nope.”

Yakko’s eyes narrowed. “You’re planning something,” he said. “And I will find out what.”

They simply smiled at him. Oh yeah, they were totally up to something.

PJ watched curiously as Max tried on and discarded at least seven different outfits. His best friend kept glancing at his reflection, scowling, and then starting all over again. He tried on a deep red jacket twice and then threw it onto his bed with an impatient huff.

PJ was not the most outspoken; he couldn’t quite summon the courage  to outright call Max out on his feelings. Instead, he held up a purple coat with silver embroidery in patterns of leaves and vines. Dot and Wakko had said that Yakko’s favourite colour was lavender, but Max didn’t own anything lavender- or, at least, he hadn’t brought anything with him. Purple would have to do.

“How about this?” he asked. “It could look really good.”

Max stared at the jacket silently for so long that PJ expected him to refuse. He sighed in relief when Max pulled it on.

No, PJ didn’t often pay attention to fashion, but Princess Dot did and she seemed certain that Prince Yakko would notice someone wearing his favourite colour. Or, in this case, close enough.

PJ would have to take her word for it and see if it had any affect.

Wakko loved a good concert, they all did. He, his siblings and his parents arrived at the concert house first and he watched as their guests slowly piled in. Scratchy’s toupee made him giggle (really, it looked awful, he didn’t know why Scratchy bothered) and he tried to count the tiny diamonds on Nurse’s necklace.

The Goofs arrived first. Duke Goofy bowed to Angelina and William, smiling, but seemed a little unsure of where exactly he should sit.

Dot solved that for them by happily pulling Max into the empty seat next to Yakko. “You can sit with us!” she declared. 

Max blinked rapidly and straightened himself. “Uh, okay,” he said.

Yakko’s eyes widened, then narrowed. Wakko saw the realisation dawn on his big brother’s face and did his best to smile innocently, not that it would do him much good. Yakko knew him too well to fall for it.

Yakko shot them both a look that promised retribution. Wakko made a note to himself to sleep with one eye open tonight, just in case. Or maybe for the rest of the week. Still, it would be totally worth it, if they could just get Yakko and Max to actually see clearly. 

William lightly tapped Wakko on the shoulder. Wakko smiled up at him.

“And what exactly,” William whispered. “Do you and your sister think you’re doing?”

“Helping Yakko.”

“Helping or meddling, Wak?”

Wakko shrugged and pulled out his popcorn. “Both,” he said.

William glanced at Yakko and Max, eyebrows raised. Goofy’s smile grew, his eyes shining with excitement. Angelina’s eyes flickered between them and she looked pretty mischievous herself.

“Well, well, well, would you look at that?” she murmured as more guests poured in and Yakko began to do what he did best; yak. He talked rapidly, gesturing with his hands and Max started to smile.

The lights were dimmed as the first singer took to the stage. As they did, Wakko and Dot discreetly high-fived and Wakko happily began to munch on his popcorn. 

If you asked him, this promised to be an entertaining night.

The singers were amazing, as they always were for royal shows. There were soloists, duos and bands. They sang happy songs, sad songs, love songs and funny songs. Some of them danced and played their own instruments. 

And Yakko found it hard to focus all the same. It was entertaining, it was everything you’d expect from a royal concert; it was the sort of show that Yakko usually enjoyed. He’d usually be one of the first to start singing along.

But right now, his heart was pounding. He knew full well what Wakko and Dot were doing. For some insane reason, they’d taken it into their heads that he liked Max and now they were (oh horrors) trying to set them up. It was oddly embarrassing and Yakko wasn’t normally one for embarrassment. 

So he kept talking and hoped the odd feeling would go away.

“That’s Minerva Mink,” he whispered to Max. “She rose in popularity real fast about three years back, but she’s been singing since she was a teenager.”

“She’s brilliant,” Max answered. He stayed facing forward, but his eyes flickered to Yakko. “You sing, right?”

“Yep,” Yakko said with a nod.

Max’s smile was tiny, but it was there. “Any good?”

Yakko couldn’t hold his smile back. “If I say so myself.”

Finally, Max looked at him properly. 

“Then I wanna hear it sometime,” he said, and immediately flushed, looking away. “If, uh- if you want. Maybe.”

For a moment, Yakko did a very un-Yakko thing: he sat and stared in silence. He clenched his fists in his lap and faced forward, turning his attention back to the concert.

“Maybe I do want to,” he said.

There was a tense pause, a tiny sound of relief from Max.

“Cool,” Max muttered. “That’s cool.”

It was nearly midnight when the show finally ended. For a while, they all lingered backstage, meeting the singers. Angelina and William thanked them for performing, complimenting them for their various styles and pointing out which songs had been their favourites.

If you asked Max, it was obvious that everyone loved the King and Queen. Even the most confident of the performers looked flustered from their praise, but delighted with big beaming grins on their faces. Yakko was chatting away with a pair of hippos, his siblings on either side of him. Now that had been an odd performance, but entertaining in its own weird way, Max had to admit.

Max edged closer, trying to think of something to say. Something that wouldn’t be dreadfully embarrassing or make him look like a total dork. Hopefully something that wasn’t cliche or flimsy sounding.

He couldn’t think of anything on time. They were soon escorted from the concert hall.

He just didn’t expect Yakko to grab him by the arm. Max looked at him in confusion, but the Prince stayed smiling steadily, calling a cheery, “Goodnight!” over his shoulder to Minerva Mink and the Hip Hippos.

“Uh, Yakko?” Max asked. “What-?”

“Meet me by the fountain in half an hour,” Yakko said, still waving at the performers. “I want to hang out.”

Max couldn’t have stopped smiling if he’d been paid to.

“Should I bring PJ?” he asked.

“Nope,” Yakko said. He finally released Max and hurried ahead to his siblings.

“I’ll be there,” Max said, though he doubted Yakko heard him. He could feel himself flushing and grinned up at the starry sky. “I’ll be there.”

Meanwhile, just a little ways behind, Pinky and Brain trailed the group. Brain’s eyes were narrowed on the Ticktockian King and Princess.

“Gee, Brain, what do you wanna do tonight?” Pinky asked, skipping along.

“What the Queen ordered, Pinky,” Brain answered. “Tail King Salazar and find out what he’s up to.”

After all, there was only so much spying a human could do. But two tiny mice with toon abilities? They could do a whole lot more.

If Salazar intended the royal children harm, Brain would be there to stop it.

Chapter Text

“Look into your eyes and the sky's the limit. I'm helpless, down for the count and I'm drownin' in 'em.” - Helpless, Hamilton

As promised, Max met Yakko by the fountain half an hour later, for once without PJ in tow and as he’d expected Wakko and Dot were nowhere to be seen. Even if he’d expected it, it was still a surprise. He’d yet to see Yakko without at least one of his siblings.

Max had changed into more comfortable clothing, a dark cloak thrown on top. It seemed Yakko had had the same idea; he’d changed into a pair of slacks with a long cloak; no fancy embroidery and no bright colours.

Max knew they didn’t look like nobility right now. He didn’t know what Yakko had in mind exactly. Max just hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself.

Sneaking out to meet the Prince? His dad would be delighted. As for the Warners, Max wasn’t sure if “delighted” would be the right word.

“Hey,” Max said, feeling oddly and stupidly shy. Yakko grinned at him and hopped off the edge of the fountain, pulling his hood up.

“Hey,” he said and quickly pulled Max’s hood up too. Before Max could say anything Yakko grabbed his hand and began to run through the gardens, towards the side-gate. It took Max a moment to speak beyond a token protest of, “Hey!”

“So, uh- what’s the plan?” Max asked. “Where’re we going?” He stood behind Yakko, shifting from foot to foot as Yakko picked the lock on the gate.

“Out,” Yakko said simply. He grinned at Max over his shoulder. “I dunno about you, but I could go for some more music.”

More music apparently meant a tavern. 

“You’re not old enough to be in here,” Max pointed out. Yakko scoffed at him, unbuttoning his cloak.

“Only by a few days,” Yakko said, leading the way to a small table by the corner. It had two red seats and a candle on the table. There were a few beer stains on the dark wood. The place was packed; it was warm and decorated in various shades of red and orange, bright enough to make Max’s eyes sting.

And up on a cramped stage, a band was playing a merry tune. People were dancing all around the room; he even saw one toon climb up onto the bar itself to dance. The bar tenders, surprisingly, didn’t look too fussed. More than likely used to it.

Max recognised the big guard, Ralph, dancing with a woman who looked exactly like him, except for her fluffy blonde hair. He wasn’t sure what dance they were doing- it seemed to involve a lot of jumping up and down- but they sure seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Max shrugged his cloak off and turned to Yakko. “What’re we doing here?”

“Having fun, Mr Stick In The Mud,” Yakko said, leaning back in his seat. “The concept may confuse you.”

“Brat,” Max said on reflex, but he smiled. “They’re good,” he said, gesturing to the band. 

“Oh yeah, they’ve a regular thing here,” Yakko said. “Usually weekends.”

Max smirked at him. “Sneak out often then?”

Yakko returned his smirk with one of his own. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Max couldn’t quite seem to stop smiling. He glanced around the crowded room and held his hand out. “Wanna dance?” he asked.

Yakko took his hand with a grin and dragged Max into the dancing crowd so fast they left puffs of smoke in their wake.

Max recognised the next song. It was the very same song that had played at the first party, the song Queen Angelina and King William had danced too, looking so happy and in love it almost hurt to look at them.

The song started out slowly, softly, but it soon picked up the pace (and volume). It must have been a popular one, because almost everyone was clapping along, if not singing and dancing.

Yakko completely lit up as it played. His eyes sparkled, his grin was utterly joyful. He sang along loud and clear, laughing when Max spun him around and- oh. Oh, Max may have been in trouble. More trouble than he'd thought anyway.

Well, no one ever said romance was Max’s strong point. He figured he could be forgiven for stumbling when the truth of it hit him; he could feel himself go bright red and nearly stepped on Yakko’s feet.

Yakko’s grin was bemused. “You okay, Goof?” he asked.

“All good,” Max muttered, feeling oddly strangled. He grinned, still flushed. The song ended and another began. “Wanna go again?”

Yakko was still holding his hand.

“First one to quit loses,” Yakko said brightly.

“Loses what?” Max asked, laughing.

Yakko only shrugged. “You just lose,” he said.

“And if I win?”

Yakko seemed to consider it. “I’ll let you pick,” he said.

(The possibilities were enough to have Max stumbling again.)

In the end, Max won, if only because Yakko was the first to notice the two off-duty palace guards walk in. Yakko abruptly stopped dancing, nearly tripping over his own feet as he hissed, “Oh, damn.”

Off-duty or not, they’d still drag Yakko back to the palace (and likely straight to his parents) if they noticed him.

Yakko looked up at Max. Max looked down at Yakko. The Prince grinned.

“Wanna run for it?” he asked.

“Let’s,” Max said with a nod. They grabbed their cloaks and sprinted out the door. He thought he heard one guard call Yakko’s name, but couldn’t be sure over the din. Either way, they didn’t stop; if anything they ran faster, both of them laughing, cloaks flapping behind them.

They ran down the main road, quickly turning down a side-street; they ran through alleys and back onto the main road, another side-street and another...And eventually stopped in the town square, by a fountain. It wasn’t anywhere near as big as the one in the palace gardens, and it was much more simple. The only sound, other than the faint trickle of the water, was some boisterous shouting and music from another tavern across the way, smaller than the one they’d just left. A group of human men and toons stood outside it, singing and laughing.

Max and Yakko caught their breath, leaning against the fountain. 

Max had no idea what time it was. He found he didn’t care. He just kept smiling, a little giddily, looking up at the stars.

“I win by the way,” he said.

Yakko laughed, elbowing him on the side. “Like hell you do!”

“You stopped dancing first!” Max said, elbowing him right back.

“Because of the guards, that doesn’t count!”

“Does so.”

“Does not.” Yakko shoved him, still laughing. Max shoved him back, a little too hard; Yakko stumbled and tumbled backwards right into the fountain with an almighty splash.

For a moment, Max stood there gaping as Yakko sputtered and shook water off himself, his ears flopping over his eyes, his fur dripping and plastered down flat.

He burst out laughing, doubled over.

He was laughing too hard to notice the absolutely evil smirk on Yakko’s face until it was too late.

“Whoa!”

One sharp tug and Max was in the fountain too. He resurfaced, spitting water from his mouth, shaking the water off as best he could- not that it would do much with him still kneeling in the water.

Yakko smiled, batting his eyelashes, the picture of innocence.

“No fair,” Max said, pointing at him accusingly. “I did it by accident.”

“Uh huh,” Yakko said. “Sure.” Still smiling, Yakko splashed him.

It devolved into a splashing competition pretty quickly from there. 

Max was no stranger to sneaking out, or sneaking back in. But sneaking back into a foreign palace with the crown prince, while soaking wet? That was a new one.

A glance at the clock tower told him it was three in the morning. With any luck, his dad was sleeping peacefully and hadn’t noticed a thing. And, fingers crossed, PJ was sound asleep too. 

Actually, with any luck everyone was fast asleep. 

He wondered if anyone would notice the damp footprints they left in their wake.

“Well,” Yakko said, practically skipping along. “That was fun.” He shot Max a quick, almost questioning glance.

Max smiled. “It was.”

They hesitated outside the Fantasia delegation’s chambers. Max stood with his hand on the door handle, lips pursed. Yakko rocked up and down, on the balls of his feet.

“I won,” Max said, looking stubbornly at the gold handle. 

For a moment, Yakko was oddly quiet. Max wondered if he was about to protest again, or pull out his mallet. 

Instead, Yakko asked, “So what do you want?”

Heart-pounding, feeling oddly warm despite the cold water still dripping off him, Max swallowed heavily.

“I’ll let you know,” he said quickly and darted into the chambers, shutting the door behind him.

“I’ll let you know.”

What the hell is THAT supposed to mean!? Yakko thought, heading for his room. If it wasn’t for the fact they were meant to be sneaking he’d have pounded on Max’s door and demanded answers.

Yakko liked guessing games as much as the next toon, but not when they left him feeling all...fluttery. 

He’d like to say he just felt funny because he was soaked to the bone, but what was the point in lying to himself?

So, trepidation aside, Yakko was smiling as he made his way to his room. His smile froze on his face when he opened his doors and found Wakko and Dot sitting on his bed, both of them with their arms crossed and looking unbearably smug.

“And what time do you call this, young man?” Wakko asked in an eerily good impression of their dad, nose in the air.

“I call it bedtime,” Yakko said, closing the door.

“You’re soaked,” Dot pointed out.

“And you’re nosy,” Yakko said, grabbing his pyjamas and heading for his bathroom. He dried off as best he could. “What’re you two doing in here?” he called from the bathroom.

“Waiting for you, duh,” Dot called back.

When Yakko emerged, mostly dry, his siblings were still sitting up and watching him eagerly. 

“So?” Dot asked. They both scooted aside to make room for him and Yakko flopped down in between them. 

Okay, so he was caught- if you could even call it caught, since this had no doubt been what Wakko and Dot were hoping for. Besides, he could never keep anything from there for long.

And he was pretty sure the dopey smile on his face was a dead giveaway in any case.

“It was fun,” Yakko said, with an arm around them both.

“Nuh-uh, we’re gonna need more than that,” Dot said, poking him on the nose.

“Details,” Wakko demanded. “We need details.”

Well, it wasn’t the first time they’d stayed up gossiping.

Smiling, Yakko told them everything.

Max was finally drifting off when PJ whispered, “Have fun?”

Startled, Max nearly fell off the bed. He shot PJ a glare; his best friend peered at him curiously, his heavy duvet pulled up to his nose. Even in the dark, his eyes were glittering, amused and oh so curious.

Grinning, Max lay back down.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I did.”

Chapter Text

“I'm headed straight for the castle, they've got the kingdom locked up. And there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut.” - Castle, Halsey

Brain knew Pinky was disappointed by the lack of adventure. Truth be told, spying was easy when you were mice, but Pinky had expected acts of daring-do, high speed chases and explosions.

As it turned out, spying on King Salazar had, so far, been rather dull. 

Brain was a highly intelligent mouse, a mouse of many talents; he liked puzzles and to be stimulated. He despised boredom. 

He was bored.

He was hiding under a sofa with Pinky, listening to the Ticktockian King’s every word. Just like last night, the man’s rants were unsurprising and of little consequence. Salazar ranted about the lack of “quality” bedsheets; he poured scorn on the breakfast provided to him, he raved about the presence of so many toons. In short, his rants were exactly what Brain expected.

Brain knew he wasn’t a paragon of patience himself, but Salazar’s short fuse was truly something else. The man was slimy, that was the only way to put it.

His entourage certainly seemed used to his behaviour. Many of Salazar’s personal servants bowed their heads and kept their mouths shut, occasionally nodding in agreement. Princess Sylvia read while she ate her breakfast and chimed in with a, “Yes, cousin,” or, “No, cousin,” as needed. A few Ticktockian Dukes loudly agreed with their King, saying what a shame it was that they’d been forced to endure such “lackluster hospitality.”

It made Brain grit his teeth. If you hate it so much, he thought. Then leave. That will solve all our problems.

Brain lacked patience in many departments and putting up with Salazar was one of them.

He couldn’t understand the man. Had he truly come here just to make everyone uncomfortable? Did he honestly think Sylvia was in with a chance of wooing Yakko? What’s more, was he delusional enough to think Angelina and William would ever allow such a match?

I will not allow such a match, Brain thought, eyes narrowed. No one, absolutely no one messed with his royal brats. Pains in the neck they may be, but they were his.

“Gee, Brain, I thought this would be fun,” Pinky complained. They followed Salazar through the halls of the palace, down to the race course- the human one this time. It was another let-down; this race would be boring, and his funny Dot couldn’t compete this time, and neither could Pharfignewton. 

“This is an important task, Pinky,” Brain scolded, slapping him on the back of the head. “This was an order from the Queen herself.”

“But don’t all our orders come from her?”

Brain sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead the way he usually did when he had a headache. He seemed to get a lot of those, Pinky thought. Poor Brain.

“It is only two more days until Yakko’s birthday,” Brain said. “And then everyone will be gone, the Ticktockians included. With any luck, Salazar is merely here to cause unrest.”

Pinky frowned as they followed the King and his entourage. He watched the Princess and wondered if she was a liar too.

“But...Brain…” Pinky hesitated, trying to puzzle out the thoughts suddenly whirling through his mind. Two more days, Brain said, and Pinky wasn’t quite sure why he suddenly felt so squirmy.

“Brain,” he repeated softly. “What if- what if they do something on Yakko’s birthday?” He didn’t want that. He wanted Yakko to have a good birthday, without any fights. 

Salazar gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Brain’s pace slowed, his eyes narrowed.

“It’s always a possibility,” he said. “And that is why we are keeping an eye on them.”

It was an all-human race this time and Brain watched with mild interest. As the horses picked up speed, he approached William and Angelina.

“More of the same,” he murmured, one eye on the race and one on his sovereigns. “He continues to rant and spew anti-toon sentiments, but nothing unusual from him.”

“And his entourage?” William asked, careful to keep his voice down, even among the noise of the royal box.

“The nobility parrott him,” Brain said. “As does his cousin. His servants hardly ever say a word.” He hesitated and added, “They’re terrified of him.”

“The servants?” Angelina asked. “Or the nobility?”

Brain considered it. “Both,” he said.

Angelina sighed and gave a tiny nod of acknowledgement. William watched the race, but Brain knew that look in his eye; the King was doing some fast thinking, no doubt trying to look at things from every angle.

“And Pinky raised a...a good point,” Brain said. He glanced at his companion, who was sincerely watching the race and cheering on the racers. “He fears an event on Yakko’s birthday.”

“An event?” William said.

“An event,” Brain repeated with a shrug. “Perhaps an argument, perhaps more. But he has a point. If Salazar is here for something, Yakko’s birthday party would no doubt be a good time to strike, no? Everyone will be distracted.” It was something he had considered himself and, from the looks on Angelina and William’s faces, they’d considered the possibility as well.

Angelina’s fingers tapped against the arm of her chair. She and Yakko truly had the same I’m Plotting face.

“We’ll heighten security,” she decided. “And we won’t let the children out of our sight.”

It was all they really could do, Brain knew that. So he watched the race, always with one keen eye on King Salazar.

If you asked Wakko, human racers were nothing compared to toon ones. Where were the obstacles, the crazy antics? It was just horses running in circles. At least there’d be a proper party tomorrow.

And at least Yakko and Max were sitting together.

Wakko discreetly high-fived Dot and beamed at PJ. Max’s friend gave him a shy smile in return, watching Max fondly as he spoke with Yakko.

Wakko liked pretty girls but he didn’t always get romance. But now? Now he could see clear as day that his big brother was smitten, and Max too. 

They hadn’t kissed yet and that drove Wakko nuts. Wasn’t that how it always went in the stories? They kissed and lived happily-ever-after? And Max would be going home soon. They had to act and act soon.

There was a party tomorrow and Wakko smiled as a plan began to form. Yakko and Max both liked dancing; maybe with the right song, the right setting...Maybe…

He looked around at the other suitors and almost felt bad for them. Really, they were missing out because Yakko was great, but Yakko liked Max and so Wakko would make sure they got their happy ending.

Wakko knew just what song to request tomorrow.

Chapter Text

“I have no use for rings of gold, I care not for your poetry; I only want your hand to hold, I only want you near me.” - For The Dancing And The Dreaming, How To Train Your Dragon 2

Only one more day until Yakko’s birthday. One more dance and then it was the big event at last.

Max didn’t understand why he felt so nervous. (Okay, that was a lie. He did.) It was just another dance. It was just...Yakko.

Yakko, with his quick wit and bright laugh. Yakko, who was painfully stubborn; brash, bold, completely insane. It was Yakko Warner and he was Max’s...friend.

(That didn’t feel like a strong enough word anymore.)

Was it normal, Max wondered, to admire someone who drove you insane? He liked Yakko- a lot. A lot, a lot. As in, he couldn’t get Yakko off his mind. That kind of “a lot.”

His stomach felt fluttery, he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight and this was all Yakko’s fault.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“Excited for tonight, Maxy?” Goofy asked. His smile was far too knowing; a strange expression from him. Max could admit, his dad usually looked pretty clueless.

“Well...Yeah,” Max said. “Guess so.”

Goofy waggled his eyebrows (as much as he could, considering he didn’t really have any), with a big grin.

“You and Prince Yakko are getting along now?”

Max turned away to hide his suddenly bright red face. “Er, yeah,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “Yeah,” he repeated, more clearly. “We are.”

“Gosh, that’s good, Maxy!” Goofy looked far too happy if you asked him. Max did his best to keep a straight face, staring him down. He hardly dared to blink. It was one of those uncomfortable times when he was sure his dad could read his mind.

PJ looked up, a curious gleam in his eye and a little smile on his face. Nuh-uh. Nope. Max wasn’t about to be interrogated by them. His dad was bad enough, but PJ? Hell no.

Max grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom.

“Wipe those looks off your faces,” he said.

Goofy only laughed as the door closed behind him.

It was kind of weird to think his sixteenth birthday was tomorrow. All this fuss and, suddenly, it was upon them. The big event, the finale, what everyone was here for.

Yakko was a legal adult tomorrow. Yikes, no thank you, he thought. If that wasn’t a disturbing idea he didn’t know what was. 

As he walked back to his rooms, Wakko and Dot by his side, he passed Princess Sylvia and King Salazar. Sylvia nodded to him, Salazar stared at him, his face carefully blank. Yakko couldn’t see Pinky or Brain, but he knew they must be near. 

Pinky and Brain as spies, who would have thought? Well, he could see Brain making a good spy. He was mostly surprised that Pinky managed to keep quiet for so long.

“I don’t like them,” Dot muttered as they turned the corner.

“Me neither, sis,” Yakko said, lightly tugging on her ear. A lifetime of being told that Ticktockia was an enemy wouldn’t really go away in a week after all, especially with Salazar being his awful self. Talk about a guest overstaying their welcome.

As soon as they reached Yakko’s rooms, Wakko threw himself onto the bed and summoned a bag of popcorn, happily munching away. Dot sat more demurely, and Yakko spread out like a starfish.

“What’cha gonna wear?” Dot asked.

His birthday outfit was all taken care of, thanks to Angelina. But as for tonight…

He thought of Max and fought to keep his expression blank, to keep from going bright red.

“Hmm…” Yakko shrugged, glanced at Dot and smiled. “How about I let you pick?”

“Yes!” Dot cheered, jumping up. She ran for the wardrobe, eyes shining, practically vibrating with glee. “I’ve got so many ideas, Yak, just you wait!”

“We’re doomed,” Wakko said.

Before Yakko could answer there was a faint boom! from their parents’ chambers and a startled yelp. 

“Oh, I think it worked,” Dot said, poking her head out of the wardrobe. She already had an armful of clothes.

“Sounds like it,” Yakko agreed.

Seconds later, William walked in, covered in bright confetti and glitter, and looking very tired indeed.

“Really?” he sighed. “This’ll be a nightmare to wash off.”

“You said we have to behave at the events,” Yakko reminded him with a grin. “You said nothing about the rest of the time.”

Smirking, William held his arms out. “C’mere, kids.”

“Uuuuhhh, pass.”

“No, come here.”

“No thanks, Dadoo,” Wakko said, putting the popcorn away. He eyed William warily, scooting backwards.

But William was, first and foremost, a knight. The man was damnably fast.

William pounced, grabbing Yakko and Wakko into a tight hug, smearing the confetti and glitter all over them, ruffling their fur and laughing at their protests. Wakko kicked at him, but was laughing, making no real effort to get away.

“Dddaaddd!” Dot wailed. She threw the clothes down and ran over. “I’m trying to make them look nice! ”

In response, William grabbed her too.

Thankfully, Angelina only laughed at them when she found them, all four of them utter messes and lying in a heap on the floor, giggling and breathless.

For all that Wakko was bored, he had to admit that his little sister knew what she was doing when it came to clothes. They all looked great thanks to Dot’s planning.

Yakko looked great, and Wakko had to smile to himself when he noticed Max go bright red.

The outfit was white as snow with sheer sleeves and shimmering silver bangles at the end of each sleeve; it was high-necked with droplets of silver and diamonds were scattered across the shoulders and waist in spiral patterns; the train of the coat flared out dramatically, skimming Yakko’s ankles. His diamond coronet practically shone when the light hit it.

It was one of the rare times that Wakko thought his big brother really looked like a Crown Prince. He looked like the typical prince-charming fairytale come to life.

Yeah, Wakko felt ridiculously proud right now. That’s my big brother! he wanted to cheer. The best big brother ever, and Wakko kind of felt bad for the other suitors; Yakko was the best, they were missing out.

But Yakko liked Max and Max liked Yakko. Wakko and Dot approved and PJ had seemed surprised, but in a happy sort of way.

They liked each other, so Wakko would do his best to make sure it happened.

He watched quietly, as he usually did, always keeping an eye on his brother, standing by Dot’s side. Yakko immediately went to Max once Angelina was done welcoming everyone. Max’s dad, Goofy, looked absolutely delighted. Wakko watched as William approached him with Scratchy; the three of them spoke together off to the side, quietly, their heads together and they were all smiling.

Dot was chatting with Prince Henry and Wakko made his way to the band.

Here we go, he thought.

There were two favourite songs in their family; their old lullaby, passed down through the generations and then there was Angelina and William’s song; the first song they danced to, the first song they played at their wedding. The song their parents always sang and always danced to. “Their song,” they called it.

It was a song they passed onto their kids, a song they all came to love dearly; it was special to them all.

For The Dancing And The Dreaming.

Wakko stopped in front of the band, smiling up at them.

“Hello, Your Highness,” the singer said, bowing. “How can we help you?”

“I have a song request,” Wakko said. He caught Dot’s eye and gave her a thumbs-up.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Wakko’s smile widened. “You know For The Dancing And The Dreaming, right?”

Max knew this song. This was the song he’d seen the King and Queen dance to, looking like the incarnations of fairytale romance. This was the song they’d played at the tavern; Yakko had lit up when it played, singing along loudly.

Yakko lit up now too. He turned towards the dancefloor with an eager smile, eyes shining, ears perked up. King William and Queen Angelina joined the dancers, beaming at each other.

Max was sure he was blushing again, but he held his hand out.

Yakko looked at him and his smile softened.

He took Max’s hand.

The music began to pick up and Max (usually so self-conscious, usually hyper-aware of people looking at him) was swept away, forgetting the hundreds of people in the ballroom, ignoring all the eyes on them. He forgot all about the politics, the allies and enemies; he forgot about everyone else, all his focus on Yakko.

I’d even sing you poetry, and I would keep you from all harm, if you will stay beside me…

I have no use for rings of gold, I care not for your poetry. I only want your hand to hold...

The light shone overhead, the party-goers twirled around them. Yakko smiled up at him, laughing when Max lifted him and spun him around. He was silly and zany; he was utterly maddening and Max thought he was wonderful.

I only want you near me...

“Yakko?” Max was just glad his voice was steady.

“Yeah?”

“I...I know what I want,” Max said quietly.

Yakko tilted his head. “What do you want?” he asked.

The song ended and, as it did, Max leaned down and finally kissed him.

Dot squeaked in glee, grabbing Wakko’s arm. PJ clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide. Wakko’s tail wagged and Dot could see their parents looking at Max and Yakko with smiles on their faces. Across the room, Goofy was grinning; Scratchy’s jaw dropped but Nurse was smiling.

“It worked!” Dot squealed, shaking Wakko. “Wak, it worked!”

“It worked!” Wakko repeated, his tail wagging faster.

Dot was thrilled and she didn’t care who knew it. At last, at last, Max and Yakko had finally done something about their feelings. 

“Well, finally,” she heard Darcy mutter. Lucy giggled, sipping at her drink.

“Our work here is done,” Dot said proudly.

“To- to be fair,” PJ said. “I’m pretty sure that was Max’s doing, not ours.”

“Our work here is done,” Dot repeated firmly. “Now let’s enjoy the party.”

No one noticed Salazar take Sylvia by the arm and lead her away. No one but Pinky and Brain, that is.

They followed at a safe distance as Salazar stormed back to their guest chambers. He slammed the door behind him, narrowly missing Pinky’s tail.

“For pity’s sake-” Salazar broke off in his mutterings, picked a lamp off a nearby side table and flung it against the wall. He was flushed red, eyes flashing with fury.

He rounded on Sylvia, who watched him coldly.

“I told you to make sure he chose you!” he shouted. “Instead he’s barely looked at you!”

Sylvia’s frown deepened. “And I’ve told you, cousin, I don’t want him,” she said. Her jaw was set, her shoulders tense. “He’s a toon,” she continued. “You can’t ever control them.”

“You wouldn’t have to put up with him for long,” Salazar scoffed.

Brain froze, his blood running cold. Pinky gripped his arm tightly. Here it was at last; a spoken threat against Yakko.

Slowly, oh so slowly, they began to edge towards Sylvia’s room; the door was wide open. They could get to the hidden doorway in there, Brain knew; at the very least, they could get out the window.

And all the while, Salazar continued to rant.

“You can’t even win over one little fool! How do you hope to be queen when you can’t even take-care of one imbecile!?”

“Maybe because he’s not an imbecile,” Sylvia snapped back, finally with some fire in her voice. “Your informants were wrong, Yakko’s no fool.”

“Careful, little cousin,” Salazar said, more like a snarl. “You almost sound like you admire the vermin.”

Pinky and Brain were just at Sylvia’s door when it suddenly slammed shut. Sylvia herself stood behind them, glaring down at them; strands of her hair were beginning to come loose from her intricate style. 

“Well, well, well,” Salazar drawled. “What have we here?”

“Servants,” Brain lied smoothly. 

“Vermin,” Salazar said coldly. Brain stood between the two humans and Pinky, fists clenched.

“Brain,” Pinky whispered. His eyes frantically flickered around the room, looking for escape. Summonings had never been Brain’s strong-suit, especially larger items, but he knew he’d have to try now.

They had to get to Angelina and William.

The look on Salazar’s face was one of murderous rage. Something flickered across Sylvia’s face. (Was it pity? Fear?) She watched her cousin and took a small step back.

“You said no one would be hurt,” she said.

“If you won Yakko over,” Salazar said. Pinky tried to run, but the Ticktockian king grabbed him, squeezing tightly. When Brain tried to summon a weapon, Salazar simply kicked him across the room.

Brain flew into the wall and collapsed to the floor. His head spun, he gasped for breath, his vision blacking in and out. Pinky gave a strangled scream and Brain tried, in vain to sit up; he managed, shakily, to raise himself and immediately collapsed again.

“Salazar, are you mad?” Sylvia snapped. Her voice seemed to echo, as Brain let his eyes close.

“You failed,” Salazar said coldly and Brain felt like he was falling down a dark tunnel. “Now it’s onto Plan B, little cousin. Consider this a lesson.”

Chapter Text

“Sycophants on velvet sofas; lavish mansions, vintage wine. I am so much more than royal; snatch your chain and mace your eyes.” - Emperor’s New Clothes, Panic! At The Disco

It was a sunny morning, Yakko’s sixteenth birthday at last. By all reports, the morning was off to a good start; free food and drink would be handed out to the citizens, there’d be free entertainment in the town square. The massive birthday cake was ready for tonight; the ballroom was decorated from top to bottom.

This was one of the most important events of their lives. On the political side of it, their Crown Prince was of age, and had done a wonderful job of winning over their allies and even securing some new ones.

On the personal side of it, Yakko, Angelina’s little boy, was all grown up. They’d all seen him with Max Goof last night, and she’d never seen Yakko look happier.

And yet Angelina felt sick to her stomach. 

It was Yakko’s birthday; if Salazar was here to cause trouble, now was the prime time to do it. Pinky had a good point about that. Security had been heightened and Angelina didn’t intend to let the children out of her sight today, but her stomach still clenched unpleasantly.

She sat with William in her private study, waiting for Pinky and Brain. Five minutes passed, then ten...twenty minutes, and still no sign of them. 

Brain believed in being punctual. This was unlike him. 

It only made her feel more paranoid.

“I’ll fetch them,” William promised. He left the study and Angelina gave into the urge to pace, hands clenched tightly behind her back, gritting her teeth. 

Don’t be so foolish, she told herself sternly. Nothing’s going to happen. Pinky’s probably just stuck somewhere again, or made a mess; maybe they’re with the children.

But her parents had raised her to trust her instincts and, right now, Angelina’s instincts screamed trouble.

William came back, his forehead creased with worry.

“They’re not in their room,” he said, shaking his head. “No one’s seen them this morning.”

Angelina’s blood ran cold. Pinky and Brain had been spying last night.

“Start a search,” she ordered. “And bring the children straight here.”

Princess Sylvia of Ticktockia was no fool. She knew her role: Ticktockia’s future Queen, the tragically orphaned princess, Salazar’s only living relative. Poor little thing, how tragic, how sad! 

She’d been raised since she was six years old to be Queen. She’d attended the lessons, she’d sat in on council meetings. She’d ridden through the streets and met with their people, she’d welcomed foreign ambassadors to their court and country. She read the books, she studied the etiquette. Sylvia knew how to be a princess. She knew how to be a queen.

She was clever.

She also knew she didn’t matter at all in this. Not to Salazar. She was a tool as much as Yakko. 

Sylvia was no fool, but she’d bought into his promises that no one would come to harm. Who truly wanted to admit to themselves that their only family was a power-hungry mad man?

But she had to admit it now, as she watched him give quiet, stern instructions to their guards, their soldiers.

Her eyes flickered to the wardrobe, where he’d locked that pair of mice. They’d been knocked out, tied up and gagged, thrown into a little box; for good measure, Salazar had put the box into his wardrobe. Just a simple shoebox, nothing important- except for what it held.

“We strike now,” Salazar ordered. He smiled at her, his eyes cold. “Fear not, little cousin. If all goes well, you won’t need to marry that vermin after all.”

He swept from the room, his men following him.

Off to take Prince Yakko.

Off to kill the King and Queen.

Sylvia did not like this plan.

She sat on Salazar’s bed and looked at the wardrobe, her fists clenched. 

She was no fool. She didn’t want to marry Yakko, he was a toon, what could she possibly want with him? But surely the plan to marry him had been better than this?

But was it really? Either way, Salazar’s plans ended with Yakko dying, with all the Warners dying eventually, and Warnerstock coming under Ticktockian rule. 

Stop it, she told herself. Don’t think like that. It’s for the best.

In her mind’s eye, she saw Yakko and Max Goof, kissing in the middle of the dance floor. She saw the Warner siblings walking with their arms linked, laughing. She saw Princess Dot soaring over the race-track on her pegasus. These strange people, so cheerful; so warm to each other.

She thought of Yakko facing her, dignified and proud, as he agreed to her suggestion of a truce.

Sylvia couldn’t necessarily say she admired him, it was too strong a word; she’d been raised to hate toons, that wouldn’t go away in a week. But it could go away. She could be more than Salazar’s puppet, his tool. 

Sylvia wanted what was best for Ticktockia; for her people.

Salazar was not what was best for them. For anyone.

“Damn it,” she muttered and stormed to the wardrobe. She yanked it open, pulled out the box and opened it; sure enough, there was Pinky and The Brain. They glared up at her with raw hatred in their eyes.

Truthfully, she couldn’t blame them.

Quickly, she untied them. Her heart was pounding and her mouth felt dry, her throat ached. 

With one simple act, she’d turned against her only family.

For Ticktockia, Sylvia told herself firmly. She was amused, despite herself, when Brain brandished a little dagger at her; Pinky waved a stick of dynamite.

“There’s no need for such theatrics,” she said briskly, rising to her feet and smoothing a crease in her dress. She glanced in the mirror; her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright, almost feverish, but not a hair was out of place; her diamond earrings glittered in the sunlight.

“What do you want?” Brain demanded.

“What is best for my people,” Sylvia said, head held high. “Now come along. We must warn your King and Queen.”

At that same moment, Yakko was getting dressed. There was a knock on the door and a maid said, “Your Highness? I’ve brought your new clothes.”

“Come on in,” Yakko called over his shoulder. The oh-so important birthday outfit was ready at last then. Angelina had kept it firmly hidden from him.

The door opened and shut. Yakko turned around and his blood ran cold.

A maid stood there and, indeed, she held a big blue box with the Warner crest on it; no doubt, the outfit was inside it.

But, standing behind her and holding a knife to her neck, was King Salazar himself.

He smiled at Yakko, his dark eyes shining with vicious glee.

“Happy birthday, Your Highness,” he said, almost pleasantly. “One word out of you, one step, and I’ll slit this young lady’s throat.”

The maid shook her head at Yakko, but tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn’t look much older than Yakko himself. A toon girl with brown hair; her uniform was a little too big for her.

Baring his fangs, Yakko reluctantly sat at his vanity.

“I knew you were a snake,” he hissed.

“Yes, yes, you know everything, don’t you?” Salazar drawled. “A little know-it-all, or so I’m told.”

Yakko growled, but Salazar only smiled.

“You’ll be coming with me, boy,” Salazar said. “Or my men will kill your brother and sister, and I’ll have you watch.”

The maid shook her head again. “Your Grace-” she broke off with a strangled sob when Salazar pressed the knife into her neck enough to draw blood. Just a nick, just a little blood...But it was enough.

The threat against Wakko and Dot was enough. Yakko would never ever risk them.

He glared at Salazar with all the hatred he could muster.

“Fine,” he growled, fur bristling. “I’ll play along.” For now, he added silently. This was his palace, his home. He wasn’t going to be made into some tragic little victim in his own home.

You’re out-numbered, Saladbar, he thought, still snarling as Salazar yanked him to his feet. One wrong step and you’re doomed.

Just you watch, Yakko thought. He didn’t give Salazar the satisfaction of flinching as the knife was held to his own neck instead. Just you wait.

Chapter Text

“Here we are, don't turn away now; we are the warriors that built this town. Here we are, don't turn away no. We are the warriors that built this town from dust.” - Warriors, Imagine Dragons

Yakko tried to breathe steadily as Salazar shoved him down the halls, a knife pressed against his back and Salazar gripping his arm hard enough to bruise. They passed a guard on the ground (whether he was dead or unconscious, Yakko couldn’t say for sure) and he felt sick.

He’d figured Salazar was here to cause trouble- but he’d just thought Salazar wanted to annoy everyone, make them uncomfortable, remind them of his power. Not this. Never this.

So much for a truce, he thought, scowling. When he next saw Sylvia he’d flatten her with his mallet.

He stumbled when Salazar shoved him too hard and Salazar gripped him tighter, the knife pressing against his back even further. 

“Watch it, boy,” Salazar hissed. 

“You won’t get away with this,” Yakko said, not for the first time. “You’ve no idea who you’re up against.”

“Neither do your idiotic parents,” Salazar said. “Now, move it.”

Snarling, Yakko glared at him over his shoulder. “They’re better rulers than you could ever hope to be,” he said firmly, head held high. Salazar’s eyes flashed and, for a moment, Yakko thought Salazar may just stab him after all. At the very least, he thought Salazar would hit him.

He didn’t, but his face flushed red and he gave Yakko a particularly hard shove.

“Move it,” he repeated.

Yakko faced ahead, fangs bared and fists clenched. They were almost at the throne room; any minute now they’d come across a guard or a servant; someone would run for help and get William and Angelina. Hell, they were heading to the throne room of all places; there were always guards in there, even when William and Angelina weren’t present.

Bad move, Saladbar, he thought.

That brief hope died when Salazar shoved the doors open, and Yakko saw the Warnerstock guards dead on the grounds in puddles of blood, with Ticktockian guards standing over them, their swords and uniforms bloodied.

What had life come to, Sylvia wondered. Here she was, racing through the palace halls, with Pinky and the Brain on her shoulders. Her! Princess Sylvia! She most certainly did not run, (she could already feel her hair tumbling out of its ribbons, and she’d had to kick her high-heels off) nor did she work with toons.

Granted, Pinky and the Brain weren’t toons, they were lab mice. Another anomaly; she was carrying vermin.

She hitched up her skirts and ran faster at Brain’s urging, following the mouse’s directions, taking short-cuts she never would have known about otherwise. Don’t call them vermin, Sylvia reminded herself. They’re your...allies. 

They had a truce. For now anyway. She doubted Queen Angelina and King William would be impressed. But she had to try, did she not?

Finally, they reached Queen Angelina’s study. The door was closed, but she could hear Angelina and William, both of them with raised voices, apparently shouting at servants or guards, because she heard William shout, “Then were is he!?”

Yakko, she thought. He has to be talking about Yakko. Were they already too late? Had Salazar already gotten him? Sylvia was not used to doubting herself, but she suddenly wondered if she should have gone straight to Yakko’s chambers instead; maybe she could have gotten there before her cousin, with Brain and Pinky’s help. But would he have listened to her? 

And what would Salazar have done, if he’d arrived to find Sylvia helping Yakko?

Two guards approached from the opposite end of the hall and they looked stunned at her appearance. Duke Scratchansniff, Duke Goof and his son Max, as well as Max’s companion PJ, were with them. Max, she was pleased to see, was armed.

“Princess Sylvia?” a guard asked in utter bafflement. “What-?”

She didn’t pause to answer or explain, nor even to hear the rest of his question. She just dodged around them and burst into Angelina’s study, gasping and clutching a stitch in her side. She made a mental note to take up exercise after all this.

Assuming she kept her head on her shoulders.

She could have laughed at everyone’s reactions. Heloise Nerz’s mouth dropped open; Prince Wakko dropped his cupcake. Princess Dot looked positively horrified and she’d never seen Queen Angelina and King William looked so utterly lost for words.

As she bent over, still gasping, the royals finally seemed to notice Pinky and the Brain.

“Where have you been?” Angelina demanded, storming over. “We’ve been worried sick and- what are you doing with her?”

King William was good enough to pass her a glass of water, while Brain quickly explained in his usual solemn voice, for once not quite so monotone.

“Salazar is planning to kill us all,” Brain said. In a way, Sylvia appreciated his bluntness. There was no softening that blow. “His plan all along was to marry Yakko to Sylvia, then kill your family off one by one.”

“He wants Warnerstock under Ticktockian rule,” Sylvia said quickly. They all glared at her, but she stood straight, chin up, shoulders back. She brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “He wants to expand our borders, he’s talked of little else all my life.”

“And you were in on this?” Angelina’s voice was dangerously quiet and cold. William had a hand resting on his sword. Max took a step forward, growling under his breath.

“I was,” Sylvia admitted. “But not anymore. He’s mad. He always has been, but…” She was not here to bear her heart to these people. Instead, she only said, “He’s wrong. He needs to be stopped. He’s either heading or the throne room, or he’ll try to lure you out of the palace, using Yakko as a hostage.”

“What?” William snarled, unsheathing his sword. “He’ll what?”

“We need to get Yakko,” Brain said, and Sylvia thought she heard his voice tremble. “Salazar was looking for him.”

It was either wonderful or awful timing; a young maid burst in, crying, a smear of blood on her neck.

“Your Majesties!” she sobbed. “King Salazar has Prince Yakko!”

The looks everyone shot Sylvia were of rage and mistrust, but the last thing Sylvia expected was for Angelina to grab a sword from the guard next to her and lead the charge from the room. The Queen was usually a cheerful, smiling woman, but now...Now she looked ferocious, fury radiating from her. She ran so fast she was little more than a black and purple blur, her long skirts flying behind her as she ran. She ran so fast that her tiara fell from her head. William was right on her heels, with their guards, Scratchansniff, Goof and Nurse. Wakko and Dot ran after them, PJ and Max by their sides.

“Come on!” Pinky cried, tugging on Sylvia’s hair. “We need to go with them!”

“More running?” Sylvia sighed, but she hurried after them, her bare feet slapping harshly against the floor. She grabbed one of the ribbons in her hair and quickly pulled her hair into a quick, low ponytail. 

The look Max gave her was one of pure murder.

“If Yakko’s hurt…” he began.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Sylvia said. “He’s proven himself resilient.” She hoped it was true; she hoped Yakko hadn’t come to harm.

“If he's hurt,” Max said firmly. “I’ll kill you myself.” Despite his warning, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her along with him; in seconds, he broke into a toon-run, running faster than Sylvia could ever dream of. The halls were suddenly a blur and her stomach lurched unpleasantly, her eyes stung- and then it abruptly stopped.

They’d reached the throne room.

Max felt sick when the doors opened. Guards in the Warner family’s uniform all lay dead on the ground; puddles of blood were on the floor and the Ticktockian guards stood around the room, their swords drawn and still dripping with blood, toon and human blood.

Salazar stood on the dais, just in front of the thrones. The Warnerstock banner had been ripped from the wall and was crumpled in a heap behind him. And, held tightly in his arms, a knife against his throat was-

“YAKKO!” Wakko and Dot ran forward but Scratchansniff and Nurse grabbed them, pulling them back. Pinky made a strangled, horrified noise.

Past Angelina’s mask of fury, Max saw a flash of terror. Her eyes widened, her lips trembled- but she quickly slipped back to fury and raised her borrowed sword. William stepped forward almost casually, never taking his back eyes off the knife against Yakko’s neck.

“Get away from my son,” William said, quite calmly. 

“Or what?” Salazar laughed. “You’ll kill me? William the Good? I think not.” His eyes narrowed on Sylvia. “And what do you think you’re doing, little cousin?”

Sylvia swallowed heavily but she didn’t look away from him. “I think I’m doing the right thing,” she said.

Dot was still kicking and screaming, screaming Yakko’s name, demanding that Nurse let her go.

“Let him go,” William said, still with that eerie calmness. He took a step and another, his sword aimed at Salazar. Yakko didn’t look away from him.

“You’ll never take us down in our own home, you fool,” Angelina hissed. 

“Look around you,” Salazar told her. “Count the dead, my dear.”

All the while, William stepped closer and closer. Yakko’s face could have been carved from stone and somehow that, more than anything, terrified Max. He hardly seemed to breathe.

And then, when William took one more step, Yakko suddenly twisted and bit down on Salazar’s hand as hard as he could. Salazar screamed and the knife fell from his suddenly slack hand, but Yakko didn’t let go; his sharp fangs dug into Salazar’s hand and, even from a distance, Max thought he heard a bone crack. Blood poured down Salazar’s hand and, with a shriek of pain and rage, he grabbed Yakko and flung the prince away from him.

Yakko tumbled down the dais steps; Angelina leaped to catch him, cradling him with one arm; with her free hand she still clutched her sword. Yakko, shaking, wiped the blood off his mouth, eyes wide; he looked stunned, like he couldn’t quite believe it had worked. Truthfully, neither could Max.

William didn’t hesitate; he jumped forward, sword raised high, but Salazar jumped out of the way. Blood dripped to the floor; his breathing came in ragged gasps.

“You’re a feral little monster!” he shouted. “Guards!”

He didn’t need to call for them; his men were already attacking, running at their group, weapons raised for the kill.

“Kill them!” Salazar bellowed. A guard blocked William’s next strike, pushing his King behind him. “KILL THEM ALL!”

As the chaos started, Max ran for Yakko.

Chapter Text

“No, you'll never be alone. When darkness comes, I'll light the night with stars; hear the whispers in the dark. No, you'll never be alone; when darkness comes, you know I'm never far. Hear the whispers in the dark.” - Whispers In The Dark, Skillet

Max ran for Yakko, quickly pulling him to his feet and unceremoniously shoving Yakko behind him. He held his sword with both hands, raised in front of him, glaring around at the soldiers. 

Angelina calmly stepped in front of Max and Yakko, Goofy by her side. Max had never seen his dad look so serious.

“Shall we, my lord?” Angelina asked with a pleasant smile.

“Let’s,” Goofy said with a nod and a little "Hyuk!"  but his eyes were steely.

As the soldiers reached them, they attacked in tandem. 

“Stay behind us, kids,” Angelina ordered, but Yakko had never been good at taking orders and, truthfully, neither was Max. Yakko stood by Angelina’s side, pulling a sword from his hammerspace (a smaller version of William’s sword, studded with tiny emeralds instead of sapphires) and Max stood by Goofy’s side. When a Ticktockian soldier swung for Goofy’s head, Max rammed him in the side, blocking the blow and pushing him back.

“Stay away from my dad,” he ordered. “And keep your filthy mitts off my boyfriend!”

Sylvia had ended up hiding under the table, her hands clapped over her ears, when Pinky tugged on her hair and screamed at her to hide, to get out of the way. As soon as she ducked under the table, Pinky ran from the throne room, shouting something about getting help.

Brain sternly ordered her to stay where she was ('You can’t order me,’ a distant part of her wanted to protest, but she obeyed anyway) and ran to Nurse, Wakko and Dot.

She had no idea what she was doing.

Sylvia was not a fighter. She was not a warrior-princess. She had no secret weapons and would not be bathing in the blood of her enemies. Sylvia gave speeches; she danced and tried to charm people. She used her words to get what she wanted.

She’d known there’d be fighting, but she hadn’t truly prepared for being thrown into the thick of it. She watched, crouched on the floor, as King William duelled with her cousin’s head guard on the dais. Salazar’s hand was gushing blood (looks like Yakko had truly done some damage) and he was screaming orders.

One order could be heard again and again over the clashing swords and fighting; “KILL THEM ALL!”

She knew that included her. It was terrifying.

She felt frozen to the spot, shaking, trying to think of a plan. Sylvia was a thinker, a politician. Surely she could think of something to get them all out of here? But they were outnumbered and a good chunk of their group were children (oh god, Wakko and Dot were here), and she couldn’t see how this would end well.

And then one of Salazar’s guards shoved PJ Pete to the ground, just inches from her. The table cloth hid her, but she could see it all happening clearly.

Max’s friend was a large boy and towered over her, but he was trembling, tears in his eyes and a bloody gash on his forehead. He was unarmed, the small knife he’d grabbed was knocked flying when he fell.

Just to Sylvia’s left was a huge (and no doubt priceless) vase. It was gold and white, patterned with birds. A pretty ornament.

And heavy.

Time seemed to slow then. She crawled from under the table and grabbed the vase. The guard raised his sword, aimed for PJ’s chest and PJ screamed.

Sylvia slammed the vase over the guard’s head. It shattered on impact and the guard fell to the ground with a tiny pained groan, his sword falling from his hand. He lay there, face down. They stood uncomfortably close to dead Warnerstock guards.

“Is he- is he dead?” Sylvia asked, dropping the broken remains of the vase.

PJ checked his pulse and shook his head. “Just unconscious,” he said.

“Oh,” Sylvia said. She felt the insane urge to laugh, though there was nothing funny about this.

PJ picked up the sword, reached for his hammerspace and hesitantly handed her a knife.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Sylvia said. She took the knife anyway.

“Neither do I,” PJ admitted. He giggled, sounding dangerously close to tears. He gestured to the continued fighting, looking to Nurse, Wakko and Dot, backing towards a corner. Dot and Wakko had spiked mallets, while Nurse had a knife rather like Sylvia’s, with a shockingly pink blade- she supposed Dot must have summoned it. Brain stabbed a Ticktockian man in the ankle and, as the man shrieked in pain and dropped his blade, Wakko bashed him on the head.

The Ticktockian man fell to the ground and, with a feral grin, Dot knocked him flying across the room.

“She shoots, she scores!” Dot cried as the man crashed into the wall. Well, if he hadn’t been knocked out before, he certainly was now. The little princess was acting like this was a game and, next to her, Wakko laughed loudly.

This wasn’t a game. Sylvia knew that. But somehow their laughter helped.

PJ gestured to the little royals. “Shall- uh, shall we?” he asked.

Sylvia clutched the knife tightly.

“Yes,” she said. “I think we shall.” 

Together, she and PJ ran to their allies.

If Angelina had the time to stop and think (which she didn’t), her main thought would have been, This can’t be happening.

So many of her guards lay dead, men and women, humans and toons she’d known for years. Some had served since she was still a princess. Some had served since Yakko was born. And now they were gone, just like that.

Her babies were fighting. Yakko was by her side, eyes blazing, teeth bared. Wakko and Dot were with Nurse, PJ and Sylvia. She glanced to the side and saw Scratchansniff tackled a man with a war-cry; as soon as he was down, Dot hit him with her mallet. Nurse, always immaculate, was now a mess; her hair was tangled, there was a massive bruise on her face, but she looked ferocious, protecting Wakko and Dot with everything she had.

William was still duelling that blasted guard, matching him blow for blow, strike for strike. Salazar huddled behind his guard, a wild look in his eyes.

He was a snake. A coward. She’d always known it, but damn it all if this didn’t drive that point home. He’d started this fight, this violence, and now he didn’t even have the nerve to face them, letting his men do the work.

As his hand continued to bleed, Angelina wondered if he even could fight.

She only looked away for a second, but then she heard William give a pained cry. She spun back around to see William’s sword fall; he cradled his hand to his chest, teeth bared in a snarl, tail bristling. Even from a distance, she could see the awkward angle of his hand.

His wrist had been broken. His right wrist, his dominant hand.

“Dad!” Yakko screamed.

No, Angelina thought, blood running cold.

She ran to him as fast as she could, toon-jumping over a Ticktockian guard’s head and landing between her husband and Salazar’s man.

No, she thought again. No one was going to take William from her. No one was going to harm her husband, or her children.

It was Yakko’s birthday, how dare they?

“Bring it on then,” Angelina snarled. The man hesitated. She knew why. She knew Ticktockia; she knew the beliefs Salazar instilled in his men.

“What?” she taunted. “Afraid of a girl?”

The man flushed a harsh scarlet and raised his blade.

She heard her children scream for her, and heard her friends call her name, but it all seemed very far away. Angelina stepped forward, her own sword raised, her husband behind her and her enemies in front of her.

And that was when their back-up arrived.

Prince Henry strode into the throne room casually, like he was just on a morning stroll; his cousin the Duke was just behind him. Each of them were holding gleaming swords, their guards by their sides. And just behind them was Lady Darcy and her father, and their handful of guards. Darcy, to Angelina’s amusement, was swinging a mace with a vicious grin. They weren’t the only ones; any suitor with battle training was there, marching into the room, weapons raised.

Pinky stood on Prince Henry’s shoulder, shooting Salazar the sternest look he could manage.

“King Salazar,” Prince Henry said pleasantly. “I’d appreciate it if your guards would stop attacking my friends.”

Salazar seemed beyond words, so furious he was spitting, his face red and his eyes wide and dangerous.

“Looks like you’re outnumbered,” Yakko said. Max stood just a little in front of him, glaring at Salazar.

Most of Salazar’s men were on the ground. Some were dead, some weren’t. And now they were clearly outnumbered. A few dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, hands raised to show they were unarmed.

But Salazar hadn’t given the order to stand down, and so the remainder didn’t. By Angelina’s quick count, there were only about seven of them still standing.

“Don’t be stupid,” she said to Salazar. But it was Salazar, so of course that was too much to ask for.

He drew his own sword, forced to use his left hand. His right had stopped freely bleeding, but it was still covered in blood and, this close, Angelina could see exactly how much damage Yakko had done. She could see bone.

She’d have to congratulate Yakko on that.

Behind her, William picked up his sword; like Salazar, he was forced to only use his left hand.

Together, they faced Salazar and his guard.

“One last chance,” William said coldly. “Stand down.”

“To the likes of you?” Salazar sneered. “I’d sooner die.”

Angelina smiled. Well, she did so hate to disappoint...

“Have it your way.”

Chapter Text

“Now the line's in the sand and our moment's at hand, and I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready...Ready as I'll ever be.” - Ready As I’ll Ever Be, Tangled: The Series

Angelina doubted she’d ever been so furious before. Not even years ago, when William was ill, when Salazar threatened their borders, had she been this angry.

Salazar had attacked them in their own home. He’d taken her son hostage, on his birthday no less. He’d killed her guards, her friends.

Angelina was not a violent woman. There was a big difference between summoning banana peels to trip people and an actual desire to hurt someone, but now? Now, after all this?

She wanted Salazar’s head off his shoulders.

Snarling, she pounced. Salazar’s guard blocked her swing, still standing between her, William, and his snivelling King.

“Run, Your Majesty!” the guard shouted. Salazar, eyes wide and wild, looked all around the room. His men were swiftly being taken down; Darcy, Wakko and Dot had three tied up. Prince Henry knocked one out cold with a sharp hit from the hilt of his sword. Yakko slammed one with his mallet, while Max and Goofy fought off another two, backing them into a corner.

So Salazar did what cowards do best: he ran for it, heading towards the terrace doors.

“Stop him!” Nurse shouted. By now, the only Ticktockian man standing was the one who’d been shielding Salazar. As they all turned to him, the man finally had the good sense to look afraid.

“Ahem.” Brain was standing by the guard’s feet, holding a bouquet of dynamite and looking most unimpressed. “A word to the wise: don’t mess with my brats, or I shall have to hurt you.” He flung the dynamite upwards and, just as it reached the man’s nose, it blew up.

The wonders of toon-dynamite: the man was flung backwards and slammed into the wall. He hit the wall with an almighty crack and slid to the floor, unconscious, but otherwise unharmed.

“You’re sure I can’t kill him?” Brain asked as William scooped him up and placed Brain on his shoulder. Pinky happily jumped onto Dot’s head.

“Quite sure,” William said. “Now let’s get a move on. Salazar won’t get far.”

Yakko wondered if Salazar seriously expected to get far. He was outnumbered and in enemy territory, not to mention injured. Either he was more arrogant than they’d thought, or he’d finally lost it. Heck, maybe it was a combination of both.

And unless Salazar felt like running through Warnerstock to get back to Ticktockia, there was only one place he could go.

Sure enough, they saw him fleeing the stables, on the back of his horse. Yakko skidded to a halt, watching for a second as Salazar turned for the front of the palace, for the gates.

“I don’t think so, buster,” Dot growled. She whistled loudly, there was an oddly musical neighing sound and her pink pegasus flew down from the sky, landing delicately in front of them and swishing its mane. Sparkles flew from its eyelashes when it blinked and it left a rainbow trail in its wake.

“We need to stop a big old creep,” Dot told it cheerfully and climbed onto its back. Yakko and Wakko were quick to climb on after her. The pegasus neighed again- Yakko supposed it was agreeing with Dot.

“What’re you-?” Max began to ask, but Yakko didn’t give him time to finish; he just grabbed his boyfriend and hauled him on board.

“Kids!” Angelina shouted. “Don’t you-”

Swoosh!

They were off. (Despite the shouts and swears below them, Yakko had to admire the view- besides, one glance down told him their family and friends were scrambling for horses of their own.)

As expected, Salazar didn’t get far.

“There he is!” Max said, pointing down. Salazar was thundering towards the gates, yelling at the pair of baffled Warner guards to stand aside.

“Piece of cake,” Wakko said with a smirk. He snapped his fingers and an almost ridiculously large lasso appeared in his hands. He swung it with all his might and caught Salazar around the wait, plucking the King off his horse with ease. Yakko had to laugh at the sight of Salazar, screaming and struggling in mid-air.

They landed and Salazar quickly tried to roll out of the way, barely dodging the pegasus’s hooves. The pair of guards were running over as Salazar slipped from the rope.

“You’re feral little beasts,” he hissed; hatred practically radiated from him.

And Yakko wasn’t scared of him.

He summoned his mallet in the blink of an eye, just as Salazar swung around and punched one of the guards, making a mad dash for the man’s sword. His grip was shaky, Yakko saw. It was his good hand, but he didn’t look confident. In fact, he looked afraid.

Still, he was infuriatingly fast. He dodged the swing of Yakko’s mallet; he kept trying to reach his horse, which had stopped in utter bewilderment by the gates. Dot’s pegasus reared on its legs, batting its massive wings as Angelina, William and all the others rounded the corner.

Max wasn’t the most confident fighter, he’d freely admit that. He didn’t like fighting.

Granted, he wasn’t sure anyone truly wanted to be fighting right now. They were supposed to be getting ready for a birthday party, not fighting Salazar. 

“You could give some of the Fantasia criminals a run for their money,” Max snapped, growling as Salazar blocked his attack. Salazar didn’t answer him. He just looked furious and frightened, his eyes always flickering back to the gates. Still desperate to get away, still sure he’d get away safely and get away with all this.

“Get away from him, kids!” Goofy shouted as he and the others jumped from their horses. Darcy was swinging her war hammer. Sylvia, barefoot and breathless, was behind PJ and watching her cousin with horror.

Max hadn’t seen much of Salazar until their arrival in Warnerstock, but his portraits had always shown a well-dressed, haughty man with well cared for hair and a confident smirk. That man was nowhere to be seen now. In his place was a weak-kneed, frightened man, his hair a mess and his hand badly injured, a wild gleam in his dark eyes.

“Sylvia!” he shouted as Dot summoned her own mallet. “SYLVIA!”

She didn’t move.

With a furious yell, Salazar punched Max straight in the face, knocking him back into Yakko. Max nearly dropped his sword, cradling his nose; he yelped as it throbbed and winced at the smear of blood on his gloves. 

It was enough of a distraction. Snarling, Salazar grabbed Wakko and Dot by the ears and flung them aside, towards Darcy and Henry. 

“You son of a-!” Yakko, growling, flung himself at Salazar, scratching at his face and kicking as hard as he could. It was a mess of flailing limbs and shouts; next thing Max knew, Yakko had tackled Salazar to the ground, hitting at every inch of the King he could reach.

Amidst the chaos, Angelina came forward, her eyes sparking, her teeth bared in a snarl.

Almost calmly, she pulled Yakko away.

She still held her borrowed sword.

“Don’t look,” she ordered softly.

William grabbed Wakko and Dot, pressing them against his chest, averting their gazes. Max pulled Yakko into his arms and Yakko did what his mother said; he closed his eyes, pressing his face against Max’s shoulder.

Max closed his eyes just as Angelina brought her sword down.

It was over just like that. After so much shouting, the silence felt odd. Max had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something stupid. He didn’t really trust himself to say the right thing.

“Well,” Yakko said, peering up at him, his back firmly to Salazar. “Happy birthday to me, eh, Maxy?”

Max didn’t know why he was laughing, it wasn’t funny, but he laughed so hard he made that awful, embarrassing “Hyuk!” sound and pressed his forehead to Yakko’s.

“I mean, I’d kiss you,” he said. “But I’m all bloody.”

Snickering, Yakko took Max’s face in his hands and kissed him.

“I’m really glad you’re safe,” Max told him.

Yakko smiled at him; a smaller smile than usual, a little shaky, a little weak, but there and wonderful all the same.

“You too,” he said.

“Yakko! Max!” Wakko and Dot flung themselves at them, hugging them both tightly. William, Scratchansniff, Nurse, Brain, Goofy and even Pinky were surrounding Angelina and Salazar, shielding the kids from the view.

“Everyone’s okay?” Darcy asked.

“We’re okay,” Yakko said and she sighed in relief, running a hand through her hair. Henry clapped them all on the back. 

PJ offered Sylvia his hand and, almost timidly, she took it and joined their circle.

“Come along, kidses,” Scratchansniff said, herding them away, Nurse at his heels and Pinky on his shoulder. “Inside vith you all.”

“But we’re okay really, Scratchy,” Wakko said.

Nurse rolled her eyes. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, picking Wakko up (he instantly looked delighted) and taking Dot by the hand. She led the way inside.

Max walked hand in hand with Yakko. Yakko was gripping his hand so tightly it hurt, and Max was sure his own grip was hurting Yakko, but the prince didn’t complain.

Then again, Max wasn’t complaining either.

What a birthday indeed, Max thought. He didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

“Come grab your guitar, sit by the fire, ‘cause we all need a song when we're weary and tired. We'll sit here together and sing it out loud. (And sing it out loud.) This is our song, that's all that matters 'cause we all belong right here together.” - This Is Our Song, Camp Rock 2

Truthfully, Max wasn’t sure what they were supposed to be doing. They were all checked over by the Warners medical staff, under Nurse’s watchful eyes. Truthfully, the worst injuries were William’s broken wrist, and Sylvia had gotten some glass in her bare foot.

Ouch, Max thought with a wince. Luckily his own nose hadn’t been broken, but it was still throbbing on and off. PJ had a gash on his forehead which had quickly been cleaned up; Wakko and Dot weren’t injured, the main concern was their reaction to all the fighting. They clung to their parents and brother, and Dot growled whenever Yakko moved too far away from her.

Lucy came running in, followed swiftly by her and Darcy’s mother.

“Is everyone okay?” she cried, running right for her twin, pulling Darcy into a tight hug.

“We’re okay,” Max assured her. “It’s done.”

She looked at him with big frightened eyes, but she nodded, still clinging to Darcy. True to form, Darcy immediately began to show off about how many guards she’d fought off. Max had to hand it to her, she’d been handy with that mace.

Henry, who’d been pacing relentlessly, finally slowed to a stop. Other than a few scrapes and bruises, he was fine.

“What now?” he asked quietly.

That was what Max would like to know. What now?

“You leave that to us,” Angelina said firmly. “You kids- you shouldn’t have been involved at all.” She looked guiltily at her own children; Wakko and Dot were clinging to Yakko, who had an arm around each of them.

“Mom,” Yakko said.

“No, Yak,” Angelina said. “Let us handle it. We’ll contact Ticktockia, we’ll- we’ll handle the rest.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “It’s still your birthday, little one,” she reminded him. “I want you to be with your friends.”

“I can write to Ticktockia,” Sylvia offered. Her hair had come completely free of its ribbon, tumbling about her face in tangled waves and her foot was bandaged. Nurse had brought her a pair of fluffy slippers.

Angelina and William exchanged glances. Goofy squeezed Max’s shoulder.

“We would be grateful for your assistance, Princess- er, Queen Sylvia,” William said, inclining his head.

“...Oh,” Sylvia said quietly, eyes widening slightly. 

“Oh,” PJ muttered with a wince. Right. Salazar was dead. That made Sylvia queen now.

Max didn’t think that was such a bad thing anymore.

In the end, they gathered together in the gardens. All of them; Yakko, Wakko, Dot, PJ, Max; Lucy and Darcy, Henry and his cousin Peter, Pinky and the Brain and Nurse.

They pulled out piles of blankets and pillows. Some servants got a massive campfire going and handed around hot chocolate and cookies. Another even brought out Yakko’s gigantic birthday cake; it was huge, ten tiers tall with thick blue and gold icing, but with big lavender candles.

Max didn’t expect to feel so hungry, but once he started eating he was suddenly ravenous. 

He watched, his mouth full, as Nurse quietly made her way around with Brain, gently touching everyone’s shoulders and asking if they needed anything. He could see why Wakko kept making heart eyes at her.

Max had an arm around Yakko’s narrow shoulders, holding his boyfriend firmly against him. Wakko leaned against Yakko’s other side, while Dot sprawled out across her brothers’ laps, watching the sky.

“Hey, look!” she suddenly cried, pointing at the sky.

Max looked up and grinned, treated to the sight of shooting stars.

“It’s beautiful,” Lucy said with a little smile, hugging her knees to her chest.

There were quiet footsteps and then Sylvia was there, hovering behind them, her lips pressed together, her hands clasped tightly together.

“...May I join?” she asked, the most uncertain Max had ever seen her.

PJ and Lucy immediately made room for her. She sat down, spreading her skirts out, graceful as ever, but somehow more real. She looked like a normal eighteen year old. In that moment, Max almost liked her.

“You okay?” Yakko asked her. He rubbed the back of his neck, peering at her curiously. “Uuuhhh, I mean- your foot? And, you know...Everything?”

“I’ll heal,” Sylvia said with a shrug. “As for the rest...I’ve written to the council at home.” She sighed tiredly. “I have a feeling I’ll be needing a whole new council.”

“Lots of people to arrest, huh?” Darcy asked, almost cheerfully.

“Indeed,” Sylvia said, tilting her head back to watch the shooting stars. PJ handed her a cup of hot chocolate, which she took absentmindedly. 

“You did a brave thing,” Lucy offered.

“You did,” Dot said, to Max’s surprise. Her smile was almost warm. “So- thanks.”

He couldn’t blame Sylvia for looking surprised. She just nodded and mumbled, “You’re welcome,” sipping at her drink. Pinky shoved an entire marshmallow into his mouth and Brain watched him tiredly, but he was smiling all the same.

“I don’t know about everyone else,” Henry said, quite seriously. “But I would rather not do that again.”

“I dunno,” Dot said slyly. “Flying after Salazar and lassoing him was pretty cool.”

Yakko burst out laughing. It wasn’t even that funny, but Wakko began to chortle and Max joined in, letting out that embarrassing Hyuk noise, but for once not trying to hide it. PJ pressed his hands over his mouth, snickering. Even Sylvia grinned, ducking her head. Darcy laughed outright while Brain only smirked. Pinky laughed, clapping his hands, and Max had the distinct impression that Pinky didn’t know what they were laughing about.

By contrast, Lucy froze and sat up straight.

“Hold on, you did what?”

The shooting stars continued overhead and the conversation slowly died down. As the quiet stretched on, Yakko began to fidget.

Eventually he sighed and pulled a guitar from his hammerspace. He glanced at Max. “Any requests?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“Song requests, Maxy.” Yakko looked him right in the eye. “You said you wanted me to sing, right?”

Cripes, Max had nearly forgotten about that. It felt thousands of years away after everything that had happened.

“I did,” Max said quietly. He looked at the campfire and, despite it all, he smiled. “There’s a campfire song from Fantasia. It goes-”

But Yakko was already strumming the guitar and singing.

“So let's sing na, na na na, hey ya…”

PJ perked up, shooting Max a grin.

They both joined in, along with Wakko and Dot.

“C'mon and sing na, na na na, hey ya.”

Darcy clapped along; giggling, so did Lucy. Henry raised his empty cup in a toast; Duke Peter rolled his eyes, but nodded along in time with the song. Some of the other suitors and guests looked baffled, unfamiliar with the song (and perhaps wondering if they’d all lost their minds), but Yakko and his siblings sang loud and clear in perfect harmony, clearly well practiced, their voices soaring above everyone’s.

“This is our song, that's all that matters 'cause we all belong right here together. There's nothin' better than singing along. This is our summer and this is our song.”

By the time the second chorus came around, everyone was swaying with the music and anyone who knew the words was singing along.

“C'mon and sing na, na na na, hey ya. This is our song, that's all that matters 'cause we all belong right here together!”

Max couldn’t believe he’d been dreading coming to Warnerstock. He couldn’t believe he’d been panicking and hating the very idea so much. It was hard to believe he’d been set against Yakko before even laying eyes on him.

It was hard to believe they’d had such a bad start, such awful first impressions.

And yet, despite the fighting, despite the utter terror from today, Max would do it all again.

Coming here was the right idea. He grinned at Yakko, holding him close again. Yakko didn’t stop singing or playing, nor did he look away from Max, smiling all the while.

They didn’t notice Angelina, William, Scratchansniff, Goofy and the other parents watching them from the terrace.

“Look at them,” Angelina murmured fondly. 

“Zey are more resilient zan we give zem credit for,” Scratchy said. William hummed in agreement.

Goofy nodded along to the tune, humming quietly, smiling as he watched them all. 

William turned to him with a smile. “It seems our sons are quite fond of each other.”

Goofy’s eyes had a mischievous sparkle. “Uh-huh,” he said. With a conspiratorial grin he added, “My Maxy is smitten.”

William grinned. “So is Yakko.”

“I suppose I’d better let Mickey know,” Angelina said with a wink. “For the good of our kingdoms and what not.”

“And for gossip,” William said, staring her down.

Angelina kissed his cheek, taking his uninjured hand. “You know me too well, darling.”

Yakko wasn’t actually sure what time they finally called it quits and went to bed. After that campfire song, they sang For The Dancing And The Dreaming, then a funny little ballad led by Darcy and it was a free-for-all from there; everyone made suggestions and they weren’t turned down. If a song was suggested they all happily sang it. Wakko even badgered Yakko into singing his Countries Of The World song.

When they finally turned in his voice was hoarse and his eyelids were drooping. William carried Dot to bed, balancing her easily with one arm. 

To Yakko’s surprise, they were herded to his parents’ room. But then again, maybe it wasn’t so surprising. 

Their bed clothes had already been laid out on Angelina and William’s beds and, any other time Yakko might have rolled his eyes and loudly protested that he was sixteen and way too old to sleep in his parents’ bed...But not now. Definitely not now.

It was actually kind of a relief. (Scratch that, it was a relief.)

They lay down between their parents, with Yakko curled around Wakko. Dot hadn’t even stirred; she was still loudly snoring. Angelina and William had an arm thrown over them all, clasping hands. Neither of them looked sleepy, Yakko thought. They looked wide awake, watching him and his siblings quietly.

“We love you,” Angelina whispered. “So much.”

“And we’re so proud,” William added.

“Love you too,” Wakko mumbled, eyes shut. He burrowed against Yakko, his breathing slowly evening out.

“Love you guys, too,” Yakko said, letting his own eyes shut.

Talk about an eventful birthday.

But now…

Maybe now things could slowly get back to normal. They could worry about Ticktockia tomorrow; besides, Yakko actually believed Sylvia when she said she’d handle it, and hadn’t that been a surprise. Maybe they could be friends after all. More than a truce.

After all this, they’d better have a relaxing send-off tomorrow. 

Outside, the shooting stars continued to soar overhead, but inside the palace everyone was slowly drifting off, allowing themselves to relax. The danger had passed and, tomorrow, everyone would be heading home.

It had been a crazy week, Yakko reflected. A king was dead and he had a boyfriend.

It wasn’t how he’d expected to celebrate his birthday.

Yakko couldn’t believe he was saying this, but maybe next year would be normal.

Maybe. Then again with him, Wakko and Dot taking the lead, maybe not.

Chapter Text

“Do you remember, we were sittin', there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time. You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter; you are the best thing that's ever been mine.” - Mine, Taylor Swift

It was, without a doubt, the strangest week of Max’s life- and despite the mayhem at the end, it was the best week of his life too.

One thing to say for the Warners, they certainly weren’t boring.

Max had not expected to head home with a boyfriend, let alone a new group of friends, but here he was. 

Henry shook his hand before leaving, quietly promising to keep in touch. He bowed to the Warners, giving a rare smile when they hugged him. He glanced around, no doubt looking for the pegasus. Dot smirked and whistled- and there it was, swooping down from the sky to land surprisingly delicately by Prince Henry’s side.

Seriously, Max had to learn how Dot did that.

Henry gently stroked the pegasus, stepping back as it flew into the air again, gone in seconds. 

“Farewell,” he said quietly, bowing again. “I hope to keep in touch.”

“You’d better,” Yakko said. “Or we’ll mail you glitter-bombs.”

They were treated to an even rarer sight: Henry outright laughing as he turned and left, waving at them all over his shoulder.

“See ya!” Darcy called, waving with both hands. She gave them a beaming grin; at her side, Lucy smiled much more shyly.

“This has been nuts,” Darcy said cheerfully. “Let’s leave out the swordfights next time, yeah?”

“Agreed,” Dot said as Lucy bent down to hug her. Lucy giggled when Wakko kissed her knuckles, turning bright red when Yakko did the same. Darcy pulled them into a group hug, squeezing tightly.

“It was nice meeting you,” PJ said with a shy, slightly crooked smile. Darcy saluted them all as she jumped down the palace steps. Lucy, shaking her head fondly, followed her twin at a more sedate pace, waving goodbye as they climbed into their carriage.

Saying goodbye to Sylvia was another matter. She curtsied deeply and they all did their best to ignore the carriage with Salazar’s body.

Angelina stepped forward and grasped Sylvia’s hand.

“Good luck,” she said.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Sylvia said.

It wasn’t such a surprise anymore when Yakko held his hand out- not to Max at least. Sylvia looked surprised, but she still shook his hand. 

She glanced back as she left, giving them all the ghost of a smile.

Max, Goofy and PJ were the last of the guests to leave. Max stood by Yakko as their servants rushed around, packing everything into their carriage. Goofy was talking animatedly with Angelina and William, waving his hands about as he spoke, laughing loudly. Whatever he was saying had the King and Queen laughing too; indeed, William was doubled over, clutching his stomach as he laughed.

Yeah, his dad was a huge dork, but he knew how to make people laugh.

Yakko was (as always) babbling away, talking about visiting Fantasia or having Max come visit. Max took his hand with a smile, quietly listening.

“Ooh, we could go sledding! Or ice skating, there’s a few ponds around here!”

“Sounds good to me,” Max said. With a smirk, he added, “I just feel like I shouldn’t let Huey, Dewey and Louie near you.”

Yakko smirked at him; Wakko perked up, a gleam in his eyes and Dot’s grin was outright evil.

“That sounds like a challenge,” Yakko drawled, standing on his toes to get closer to Max’s eye-level.

“Oh no,” PJ muttered.

“Maybe so,” Max said. He swore could hear Donald screaming already.

Grinning, Yakko quickly kissed him.

“Challenge accepted, Stick-In-The-Mud.”

“Still calling me that, huh?”

“Always.”

Finally saying goodbye was hard. PJ was jumped on by Wakko and Dot, while Yakko clung to Max. Honestly, Max didn’t want to let go of him, for a variety of reasons; relationship aside, he couldn’t quite shake the image of Yakko with a knife held to his neck from his mind.

“I’ll miss you, Brat,” Max said.

Yakko smiled up at him. “Still calling me that, huh?” he echoed.

Max grinned despite himself. “You know it.”

They stood by the carriage, still holding hands, when Goofy finally called, “C’mon Maxy,” and Max reluctantly pulled away.

As the carriage pulled away, Max stuck his head out the window and waved. “I’ll write!” he called. “Promise!”

“You better!” Yakko shouted, waving as well. Dot blew a kiss, Wakko waved with both hands. “Or you’ll be getting glitter-bombs too!”

It was weird to be back in Fantasia. It felt like they’d been gone longer than a week. Still, it was good to be home.

As Goofy regaled Mickey and Minnie with the tale of their week away, and gave Mickey a letter from William and Angelina, Max thought that Mickey looked far too smug.

“I told ya it was a good idea!” Mickey said happily.

“We could have been killed,” Max said flatly.

“It worked out though!” Goofy said, clapping his hands together. PJ sighed tiredly, slumping against the wall. Goofy wiggled his eyebrows, smirking at Max. “And there’s Yakko, right Maxy?”

Mickey’s grin widened.

“Nuh-uh,” Max said, quickly grabbing PJ and hurrying from the throne room. “Nope, we’re not talking about this.”

“I want all the details!” Mickey called after them as the door slammed shut.

PJ gave Max a tired smile. “Wanna grab some lunch?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m starving,” Max said. He kept a brisk pace, trying to ignore the fact that, no doubt, Goofy was now telling Mickey (and Minnie and anyone else in the throne room) all about Max and Yakko- and Max didn’t doubt his dad would exaggerate heaps.

But at the thought of Yakko, he slowed down.

“I, uh- I’m gonna stop by my room first,” he said to PJ. “I’ve got a letter to write.”

PJ raised an eyebrow, smirking, and Max all but ran from him.

“Don’t you start,” Max said as PJ ran after him.

“It’s sweet,” PJ said. “Besides, I promised to write to Henry and Sylvia.”

PJ was actually going out of his way to be social? Would wonders never cease?

As soon as Max reached his room he grabbed some paper, a quill, and began to write to Yakko.

After all, he’d promised to invite Yakko over. No harm in asking what dates suited Yakko best.

One year later…

A year ago, Max had dreaded entering Warnerstock. He’d sulked and complained during the whole journey, certain he’d make a fool of himself, certain he’d be miserable.

And, okay, maybe he had made an ass of himself at first, but it had turned around.

This time he was fidgeting in his seat, frowning out the window of the carriage, only half-listening to PJ as his friend pointed out changes to landmarks, or wondering aloud which of their friends would be there before them.

“Oh and Sylvia confirmed she’ll be there,” PJ said. Max smirked to himself.

“Oh?” he said, tone light.

PJ nodded a little too enthusiastically.

Max almost felt bad for him. Yakko, Wakko and Dot were sure to notice right away.

They couldn’t reach Acme Falls quick enough.

Yakko grinned as he saw the Fantasia flags. He bounced in place impatiently and, as soon as Max stepped down from the carriage, Yakko flew down the steps, tackling his boyfriend to the ground.

Max let out a startled yelp, but once he realised it was Yakko he only grinned in fond exasperation. 

“Hey,” Yakko said, grinning even wider. His tail wagged of his own accord; he hoped Max didn’t notice.

“Hey,” Max said. “Mind letting me up?”

“Hm, no.”

“Helloooo, Max!” Wakko and Dot called, hurrying to meet them. Angelina and William followed at a normal pace, fondly hugging Goofy. William laughed at Yakko, gesturing for him to get off the ground.

“You can’t stay down there forever, Yak,” William said.

“Hm, no, I really think I can,” Yakko said, but he reluctantly got to his feet, pulling Max up. He grinned at PJ, punching him on the arm. “Did you get even taller?”

“Unfortunately,” PJ said.

“You sure didn’t,” Max said, eyeing him with a smirk.

“Watch it, Goof, or you’ll end up in the dirt again,” Yakko warned, jabbing him on the chest. “I grew!”

“By an inch,” Dot muttered.

“You can’t judge, sister-sib, you didn’t grow at all.”

“We checked,” Wakko said.

Max chuckled. Yakko did the mature thing and stuck his tongue out. If he was still holding Max’s hand that was his own business, thank you very much.

As luck would have it, that was when the Ticktockian entourage arrived. 

Queen Sylvia stepped gracefully from her carriage. It was crazy what a difference a year could make; her hair was mostly loose, some parts plaited back from her face and she wore a soft yellow gown, a slim diamond necklace and a brooch shaped like a clock. She looked, all in all, much happier.

“Hey,” Yakko called to her, waving her over.

“Hello,” she called back with a wave. She said something to her waiting maids and they began to unload the carriages. Sylvia came over to their group with a small smile.

“Hello,” she repeated when she reached them. “It’s good to see you.” Now, was it Yakko’s imagination or did PJ look a little...flushed?

Sylvia held her hand out with something of a smirk and- yep, no, Yakko wasn’t imagining things, PJ was definitely blushing as he kissed her knuckles.

Yakko shook her hand with raised eyebrows. Dot looked mildly suspicious as she stared at PJ while shaking Sylvia's hand, and Wakko kissed her knuckles, proclaiming, “Enchanté, mademoiselle,” in his best posh accent.

“I’d better greet your parents,” Sylvia said. She brushed past them to where Angelina and William were patiently waiting.

PJ flushed under their combined stares.

“I, uh- I’m just…” He gestured over to Sylvia. “Gonna, um...Ask her how she’s been.”

“But you know how she’s been,” Max said blankly. “You’ve been writing to her.”

PJ didn’t dignify that with a response; he simply hurried away, intercepting Sylvia as she came back. They stood halfway between Angelina, William and Goofy, and Yakko, Wakko, Dot and Max. Yakko couldn’t hear what they were saying but, as he watched them, ideas began to take hold.

“...Isn’t yellow PJ’s favourite colour?” Dot asked with a smirk.

“It is,” Max confirmed. He already looked wary. Good, he was smart.

“They’d be cute,” Dot said. She was getting that determined, almost feverish glint in her eyes. Yakko almost felt bad for PJ. Almost.

Wakko rubbed his hands together, smiling delightedly.

“Please don’t,” Max said tiredly. “We just got here.”

“Request denied,” Yakko said cheerfully, squeezing his hand. “C’mon, are you in or what?”

Max looked at PJ and Sylvia. PJ kept wringing his hands, but Sylvia was smiling at him- an actual smile, not a smirk or one of her fake smiles. 

Oh yeah, Yakko was going to have fun with this. Why let his siblings have all the match-making shenanigans? He wanted to join in this time. Maybe, Yakko thought, it could be a new birthday tradition. Why not? Relationships, he’d decided, were fun.

Sighing, Max smiled at Yakko, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Wakko and Dot gave exaggerated groans of disgust.

“I’m in.”

Yakko grinned.

“Then let the games begin.”

“And I'm afraid I won't get out alive. No, I won't sleep tonight. Oh, oh, I want some more; oh, oh, what are you waiting for? Take a bite of my heart tonight. Oh, oh, I want some more; oh, oh, what are you waiting for? What are you waiting for? Say goodbye to my heart tonight.” - Animal, Neon Trees