Chapter Text
Prince Wilbur of the Antarctic Empire was doing what any prince would do with too much time on his hands.
He was walking down the halls, his hands stuffed into his pockets in a very un-princely like fashion, whistling as he tried to think of what to do with all that time.
It might not have sounded that interesting, and that was because it wasn’t that interesting. As a matter of fact, it was very boring. So boring, in fact, that Wilbur was considering just turning around and harassing Technoblade until he did something interesting like dangle Wilbur out of the top window of the north tower.
Then again, the last time Technoblade had attempted that, Phil had grounded him for about two months straight, informing Technoblade that attempting murder on his older brother was not a good way to spend his time.
Wilbur thought that it was a perfectly valid way to spend your time, and he himself had devised his own plan to get back at Technoblade.
Unfortunately, Phil found out about it, and then Wilbur himself got grounded for a few months, which was part of the reason Wilbur was so incredibly bored at the moment.
Sighing, Wilbur spun around, trying to decide which hallway he should mindlessly wander.
A flash of gray fur suddenly appeared out of the corner of Wilbur’s eye.
What?
Wilbur quickly jerked his attention to where he saw the fur, but there was nothing there.
Very strange.
Maybe he was just imagining things. Extreme levels of boredom could do that to someone, Wilbur was pretty sure.
Wilbur turned back around.
Another flash of fur.
Wilbur jerked himself around again, but once again, nothing was there.
Alright, now this was just getting plain suspicious. What on earth was going on?
Wilbur walked closer to where he could’ve sworn he saw the fur, and he crouched down to see some little pawprints on what were normally pristine floors.
Just to make sure they weren’t a part of Wilbur’s imagination, Wilbur touched them, and a small amount of dirt came off on Wilbur’s fingers, and the pawprint on the floor became smudged.
Alright, so they were definitely real.
But if there really was some creature trying to sneak around the palace, how come they managed to disappear so quickly? The idea was strange, almost impossible to consider.
This required some detective work.
After pacing around the spot with the paw prints, Wilbur decided the only way to do it was to attempt to catch the creature in the act. That shouldn’t be too hard, should it?
Wilbur slowly started turning around and stepping away from the crime scene.
“I guess there’s nothing here,” Wilbur said loudly, as though he thought the creature was going to be sentient enough to understand that Wilbur was onto them.
Wilbur didn’t wait to see a flash of fur. Instead, he spun around almost instantly, just in time to see a raccoon duck underneath one of the floor tiles. As soon as the raccoon was properly underground, the tile went back down silently, looking completely unmoved.
What… the hell.
What sort of castle had a tile that was a completely silent secret passage? What was the purpose of that? How on earth could that be considered safe?
Wilbur walked over to the tile. It looked properly wedged in between the other tiles, but if a raccoon could manage to get underneath it, Wilbur was not about to admit defeat so easily.
Wilbur quickly brought his nails underneath the tile. Gritting his teeth together, he braced himself to pry the heavy thing up, but it came up laughably easily, probably loosened by overuse by raccoons.
“Yes!” Wilbur whispered to himself, placing the tile down on the floor. Now, he had a perfect view of the secret tunnel that the raccoons seemed to be using for their own ends.
The tunnel was small, perfectly raccoon shaped, and Wilbur knew he had no hope of being able to get through that small tunnel. Had the raccoons made the tunnel themselves? Were they using the castle as a way to traffic food and valuables?
Was that where Wilbur’s favorite earrings had gone?
Wilbur didn’t know, but he did know that this mystery of the raccoons had to be solved quickly before the raccoons we retaking over the palace, and then the kingdom, and then they would start their little raccoon conquests to take over the entire world…
Okay, that was a bit of a stretch, but Wilbur didn’t trust raccoons as far as he could through them, and so he was willing to bet anything would happen.
There just had to be a way to figure out where those pesky raccoons were going.
“Dad!” Wilbur called from outside his father’s office door, knocking loudly, “Dad! I need you!”
“Come in!”
Wilbur grinned and swung open the door dramatically, wincing when it crashed against the wall.
Phil looked up from some law he was probably inspecting, giving Wilbur an unimpressed look. “What do you want?” he asked.
Wilbur’s smile didn’t fade. “Can I borrow one of your birds?”
Phil’s unimpressed look morphed into a look of pure surprise. “What?” he asked.
“Can I borrow one of your birds?” Wilbur gave Phil a very serious look. “I need them for a very serious project that could be a matter of life or death for everyone in this palace.”
Phil laughed. “Alright then,” he said, “make sure they stay unharmed, alright? I don’t want any birds screaming to me about human experimentation.”
Wilbur gasped dramatically. “I would never do that!”
“With you, I always have to be prepared for the worst,” Phil said dryly.
Wilbur snorted. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’ll treat your birds with the utmost care. You can count on me.”
“I hope so,” Phil said, “Considering you or Techno are taking over the kingdom one day.”
Wilbur left the room before he could be reminded of any responsibilities he needed to get done. The thought was too nightmarish to stand at the moment, especially when he was busy with the raccoon conundrum.
Wilbur collected a willing bird from Phil’s room. The bird cawed curiously at him, probably wondering what Wilbur was up to as he led the bird to the hallway where the raccoon had initially been spotted.
Wilbur grinned. “I know I can’t understand you like Phil can, but that’s okay. You’re going to have a very special job, got it?”
The bird nodded.
“Good.” Wilbur nodded. He squatted down in front of the raccoon hole. “I want you to fly down here and see where this tunnel leads, okay?”
The bird hopped down from Wilbur’s hand and landed on the tile in front of the hole, scratching the floor nervously.
“I know it’s scary,” Wilbur said comfortingly, “But it would be very helpful. You would be my hero.”
The bird fluffed her feathers and straightened, looking as though she quite liked the idea of being a prince’s hero, and rightfully so. She let out a small chirp, almost sounding like she was saying ‘if you insist’, and then she hopped into the air and flew down the hole.
Wilbur sat there patiently, waiting for the bird to return. He hoped she should come back soon, Wilbur wasn’t sure what he would do if the bird actually died down there. Phil would definitely not be pleased.
Fortunately, the bird came back after about ten minutes, looking a little dirtier than before, and her feathers were slightly ruffled.
“What was it like?” Wilbur asked.
The bird squawked indignantly. Clearly, the raccoons had not agreed with her very well.
“Sorry,” Wilbur said, trying to make his face sympathetic, “Raccoons are rascals. Can you show me where the tunnel led?”
The bird chirped again, and jumped into the air, flying down the hall. Wilbur rushed to follow her, because man, that bird was very swift, despite whatever run-in she had with the raccoons.
Eventually, the bird stopped in front of the steps down to what looked to be an abandoned basement, and Wilbur stopped at the entrance.
“This is where they are?”
The bird nodded, sitting on the windowsill.
Well, Wilbur supposed that made sense. They were going down an underground tunnel, after all. It would logically follow that the tunnel leads to a basement.
“Thank you,” Wilbur told the bird gratefully, “I can take it from here.”
The bird nodded and flew back to Phil’s room, probably ready to give herself a good preening. Wilbur made a mental note to give her some kind of bird treat later. She earned it.
But now was not the time for bird treats. Now was the time for getting rid of these raccoons before it was too late.
Taking a deep breath and preparing himself for battle, Wilbur hurried down the steps and swung the door open before he lost her entirely.
Wilbur was not prepared for what he saw.
At first, it just seemed like an ordinary basement. There were boring stone walls, a few items that hadn’t been touched and what was probably centuries, and everything was horribly lit.
Then, Wilbur saw the raccoons.
The basement was crawling with them.
Wilbur had been a fool. Wilbur had been such an ignorant fool. This wasn’t a job for one man, this was a job for a literal army.
But most importantly, in the center of the army of raccoons was something that was distinctly not a raccoon, as a matter of fact, it looked as though a child was sitting in the center of the raccoons.
Wait, it didn’t look like a child.
It was a child.
The raccoons had spotted Wilbur, and they were now stalking toward him, looking as though they were about to attack him if he dared hurt the little child that they were surrounding. Some of the raccoons weren’t bothering with Wilbur, instead crawling up on top of the child’s shoulders and placing something on the child’s head. Was that Technoblade’s crown?
Wilbur wasn’t sure what was going on anymore, but he quickly raised his arms in surrender. “I come in peace!” he declared quickly.
The raccoons paused.
“I don’t want to hurt any of you,” Wilbur continued rambling, “As a matter of fact, I reckon that we could all become marvelous friends. Eventually. I just… wanted to see what you were up to, that’s all.”
Those were all mostly lies, but Wilbur needed to keep up appearances. The last thing he wanted to do was die by a million raccoons taring him to shreds. That would be embarrassing. Wilbur would get a title like: Wilbur the Raccoon Food. What sort of prince was known for being Raccoon food?
So yeah, Wilbur wasn’t going to do that. Instead, Wilbur was going to make sure the raccoons did not eat him.
The raccoons gave Wilbur suspicious looks, and they turned around toward the child, as though they wanted to know what they should do.
The child let out a series of raccoon like sounds, and the raccoons nodded, running away from Wilbur and back toward the child, surrounding him with a wall of fur.
It was actually adorable to see the child who couldn’t have reached his teen years surrounded protectively by raccoons, even if raccoons were technically vermin.
“Hello,” Wilbur said, trying to keep his voice calm and inviting as he walked toward the child, “I’m Wilbur. What’s your name?”
If the child could even speak common, that is. It was possible that the child was just fully raised by raccoons and could only speak raccoon language.
However, life was full of surprises, and with a small, hoarse voice, the child said, “Why do you want to know my name?”
Okay, so admittedly, that wasn’t a very good answer, but it was proof that Wilbur was going to be able to communicate with this child, which was always a win in Wilbur’s books.
“Because I want to know what to call you,” Wilbur said, sitting down a few feet away from the wall of raccoons, “And because I want to be able to help you out. It doesn’t look very comfortable to be living in an abandoned basement.”
The child shrugged. “It’s not terrible,” he whispered, although his voice made it sound like it was a little terrible, “My friends give me gifts.”
Wilbur was assuming that the child’s friends were the raccoons.
And, now that Wilbur was looking at the poor child more closely, it was very clear that these racoons were spoiling this child. Not only was the child wearing one of Technoblade’s crowns, but he was also wearing one of Technoblade’s royal cloaks. And if Wilbur could properly peer past the darkness and the wall of raccoons blocking the kid, he could’ve sworn he spotted Wilbur’s ring, as well as many bracelets and other rings, on the child’s hands.
These raccoons could’ve let this kid make a fortune, and instead they just leave him in a basement.
“I can see that,” Wilbur said, “But this place doesn’t seem very comfortable.”
The child only shrugged.
“How about this?” Wilbur offered, “You come up with me, and I can get a proper meal into your stomach and some clothes that haven’t been stolen by raccoons.”
The raccoons were at the very least not hissing at Wilbur at the idea, so Wilbur assumed he had to be doing something right.
The child, however, looked hesitant. “Um, I don’t know,” he said quietly, “Is that… allowed?”
“You think you’re allowed to be in the basement of the royal palace stealing items from the royal family?” Wilbur countered dryly.
The rate at which the poor boy’s face went paler than it already was would’ve been funny if it weren’t so sad. “I’m sorry!” the child said, his voice high-pitched, “I didn’t realize, I thought the raccoons were taking things that nobody wanted, that’s what they said—”
“It’s okay,” Wilbur said quickly, “It’s fine, don’t worry. Nobody’s going to be upset with you.”
The child’s breathing was still unfortunately accelerated, and Wilbur was honestly at a loss for what he was supposed to do. Did he comfort him? How?
The raccoons, however, seemed to have a good idea of how to handle these situations, and they quickly piled up on top of the child, acting as a blanket of some sorts. The child started relaxing, and Wilbur let out a breath of relief.
“Sorry for scaring you,” Wilbur said quietly, “I didn’t mean to.”
“Sorry,” the child said for some strange reason.
“Don’t be.” Wilbur hesitated. “So, do you want to go upstairs, or…”
The child hesitated. “Are you sure it would be okay?”
Wilbur nodded quickly. “Absolutely.”
He was pretty sure, at least. Sure, it might raise some uncomfortable questions if anyone decided to ask where Wilbur had gotten a child from, but Wilbur had faith that people could not assume that this child was biologically Wilbur’s.
Another moment of hesitation, but then the child nodded. “Okay then.”
Wilbur grinned. Another victory for Prince Wilbur.
The child slowly stood up, and the raccoons clambered off of him, only one standing on his shoulder like some sort of royal pet that knew it was prince over all the other pets.
“Can I have your name?” Wilbur asked again as he walked up the steps with the child, trying to ignore the raccoons that had decided to follow him and Wilbur.
The child took a deep breath, grabbing the sides of Techno’s cloaks and wrapping it around himself like a blanket.
“Tommy,” he finally said, “My name is Tommy.”
“That’s a cute name,” Wilbur said kindly.
Tommy’s face turned bright red. “It isn’t cute,” he protested, sputtering, “It’s very… um… it’s very un-cute.”
“My apologies,” Wilbur said, grinning slightly, “It is a very un-cute name. Manly, even. Perhaps even princely.”
“Manly,” Tommy repeated, “It’s a very manly name, and I am a very manly person. I am a man.”
“That’s right,” Wilbur said carefully, not wanting to spook Tommy, “Although, I wouldn’t say a man. Probably a child.”
Tommy made a choking sound. “I am not a child!”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Tommy went quiet all of a sudden, looking more subdued than he did earlier. “Where are we going?” he asked quietly.
Wilbur hummed. “Well, I was thinking I could get you some food, and then you could probably use a bath, and then maybe some fresh clothes that aren’t stolen from the princes, and then I don’t know.”
Tommy scowled. “You don’t know what you’re going to do with me?”
“Nope.”
“Well, don’t think about any of that... any of that, um, you know, or my raccoons will bite you.”
Wilbur shuddered at the idea of getting bitten by an army of raccoons. “I won’t hurt you,” Wilbur said.
“Good.” Tommy still looked nervous though, and he hunched his shoulders down, somehow making his already small form even smaller. “Because… because they’ll bite you.”
“Good for them,” Wilbur said, “I don’t want you feeling unsafe here.”
Tommy looked confused, but that was alright. Wilbur was more concerned with making sure this child was properly cared for.
They entered the dining room, and Wilbur gave Tommy a sandwich and glass of water. Tommy eyed both of the foods carefully, and he gave Wilbur a strange look.
“These are for me?” he whispered, quiet again. It was a little disconcerting how quickly Tommy could switch from being loud to being timid.
“Yeah,” Wilbur said, “Unless you don’t like them, then I can get you something else—”
“No!” Tommy exclaimed, his voice coming out as a squeak, “No, I like it, I’m grateful, I—” He let out a shuddering breath. “—It’s nice food.”
“Yeah.” Wilbur sat down next to Tommy and started eating his own sandwich. Wilbur himself thought the food quite standard, but he didn’t say that. “That’s because you need it.”
Tommy didn’t say anything at that, instead staring quietly at his food.
Wilbur was halfway through his sandwich, and he gave Tommy a quizzical look when he saw that he hadn’t even picked up the food yet.
“Are you sure you like it?” Wilbur asked, “Because I can seriously give you something else, it’s no bother.”
Tommy gave Wilbur a fearful look, but it became a bit of a scowl. “You didn’t tell me I could eat,” he said quietly.
Oh.
“You can eat whenever you want to,” Wilbur promised, “But you can eat now as well, okay? You don’t need my permission.”
Tommy didn’t look like he liked that, but he picked up the sandwich and started gobbling it down like it would be the last time he’d ever see food.
After they ate, Wilbur took Tommy to the baths.
“Use whatever soaps you like,” Wilbur instructed, “And you can spend as much time in there as you need. I’ll set aside some clothes for you to wear afterwards, and your raccoons can return everything they decided to steal.”
Tommy clutched onto the cloak. “Everything?”
“I’ll get you another cloak.”
Tommy hesitated, but he nodded. “Okay.”
True to his word, Wilbur found Tommy another cloak, a much better cloak in Wilbur’s opinion. It was a soft fluffy red, which was an improvement of the coarser material that Tommy’s stolen cloak had. Wilbur also made sure to leave plenty of jewelry for tommy to wear as well.
Wilbur and Technoblade were twins, and they were piglin hybrids, although it was much less obvious on Wilbur than with Technoblade. And Wilbur had to admit that seeing the gold jewels on Tommy made Wilbur feel very soft inside.
Also, raccoons liked shiny things, so it should make Tommy happy as well, which was really the point of all this.
Tommy returned from the baths with his new clothing on, and he looked much younger than he did before now that all of the dirt and grime was washed away from his skin and hair. And with the cloak and nice clothing and jewels, he almost looked like a young prince.
Now, there was only one thing left to do.
“Do you feel better?” Wilbur asked.
Tommy nodded, running his fingers against the fabric of the cloak. “It’s soft,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” Wilbur agreed, nodding, “I thought you’d like that.” He hesitated before declaring the next thing that needed to get done. “Now, all we have to do is speak to my father.”
Tommy frowned. “Why?”
“Well, because he’d probably like to hear it from me that I want you to stay,” Wilbur said, “Unless you have somewhere else to go?”
Tommy bit the inside of his cheek, but he shook his head quickly. His eyes were blown wide, however, and Wilbur wondered if he had said something wrong.
“You don’t have to stay,” he said quickly, “But, I just figured, I’ve done this much already, and I wouldn’t mind letting you stay at the palace—”
“But what about the king?” Tommy asked, ducking his head underneath the cloak a little bit.
Oh, right. Wilbur had never introduced himself properly, had he?
“I’m Prince Wilbur,” Wilbur said grinning, “If we can convince my father, we’re golden.”
Tommy’s eyes were now blown completely wide, and he looked as though he had just seen the moon and stars fall out of the sky and land in a pile before his very feet.
“You’re the prince?” he whispered.
“Yep.”
Tommy sunk deeper into his cloak, looking like the smallest thing Wilbur had ever seen. “And… you mean it? You want me to stay?”
“Of course, I do,” Wilbur said, “Why would I lie about that?”
Tommy didn’t say anything, but one of the raccoons hugged Tommy’s foot, so Wilbur decided not to pry on whatever traumatic past Tommy had obviously suffered rom.
“If you don’t want to meet my father, I can go by myself,” Wilbur said, hoping he sounded comforting, “You can stay with your raccoons. I’m sure they can take good care of you.”
“They can take the best care of me,” Tommy snapped defensively.
“Exactly,” Wilbur said soothingly.
Tommy rocked back and forth on his feet, and he nodded once. “Okay,” he said, “You’ll come back, though?”
Wilbur nodded with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Tommy nodded, and he sat down on the floor, allowing the raccoons to pile up in his lap. Wilbur would’ve winced at the filthiness of the raccoons, but he was pretty sure that Tommy had given all of them a bath as well, so he’d let it slide.
Besides, they were making Tommy comfortable, so it was all worth it anyway.
Tommy wasn’t quite sure what had happened.
After running away from Dream, Tommy thought that that was it. Tommy thought that he would live the rest of his days as a lonely street rat, scrounging for food, trying not to get caught by Dream’s people that would only return him to Dream, who would smile and mock him and make him feel inferior…
Tommy shuddered at the thought, wrapping his cloak more tightly around himself.
He had heard the Antarctic Empire was far away from Dream, so he had hurried there as soon as possible. He was still poor, but he raccoon population of the city had seemed to take a liking to him, and they helped Tommy sneak into the palace, where he could safely hide in a basement and get delivered food and various other times by his raccoon friends.
The basement was scary and cramped, but Tommy preferred it to the streets. Nobody could hurt him in the basement. Nobody could capture him if he was properly hidden.
But then Prince Wilbur entered in a burst of light, and Tommy almost wanted to cower away instantly.
But he didn’t. Instead, he decided to trust Wilbur for some odd reason.
And for an even more odd reason, Wilbur hadn’t broken that trust yet. Wilbur had fed him. Wilbur had given him nice clothing and jewelry. Wilbur wanted Tommy to stay.
And… Tommy wasn’t sure what to do with that.
He wanted to stay, he did, but it was weird. All of this was happening too quickly, and Tommy didn’t know what to think, and this place was weird.
“Who are you?”
A sudden voice jerked Tommy out of his thoughts, and he snapped his attention up at a pink-haired man, who was staring at Tommy like he was some sort of unfamiliar oddity.
Tommy almost snarled, but then he remembered that he was supposed to be nice, so he forced himself not to do that.
“I’m Tommy,” he said instead, “Who are you?”
“Prince Technoblade?”
Tommy’s heart skipped a beat. Was he in trouble? Was he going to be taken to prison? Wilbur wanted Tommy to stay, but did Technoblade know that? Probably not, and now Tommy was going to be taken away, and—
“Prince Wilbur wants to keep me!” Tommy blurted out before he could stop himself.
Prince Technoblade gave Tommy a long look, and eventually he just let out an exhausted sigh. “Of course, he does.”
Phil was laughing. “So, let me get this straight, you kidnapped one of my birds just so you could adopt a child?”
Wilbur felt his face flush red. “It’s not funny,” He muttered.
“You have to admit mate that it is somewhat funny,” Phil said kindly, “Anyway, I have no objections, as long as he keeps his raccoons under control.”
Wilbur smiled. “Wait, really?”
Phil nodded. “He needs a place to stay, and I’m more than happy to provide. Who knows, maybe you’ll get a little brother.”
Wilbur could hardly believe his ears.
And then the door behind them slammed open again.
“Wilbur, why did you adopt a child?”
Wilbur spun around to see Technoblade standing at the door, being quickly followed by a terrified looking Tommy.
Wilbur gave Tommy a small smile.
“Because I was bored,” he said, “And he is very sweet.”
“I am not sweet,” Tommy muttered into his cloak.
Phil made a snorted. “Oh yes, I’m definitely adopting him.”
Technoblade’s look of horror wasn’t truly as horrified as it could’ve been.
Wilbur grinned. “Welcome to the family.”
Tommy looked confused, but the raccoons surrounding him instantly snatched the crown off of Philza’s desk and placed it on top of Tommy’s head, causing Tommy to let out a startled squeak.
Wilbur’s heart melted. He didn’t think he’d mind having a baby brother.
He didn’t think he’d mind at all.