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The baby enters the world with shining teal eyes and tufts of golden curls, pale soft skin and rosy cheeks. He is clothed in bright red silks and icy blue satin, and held before a prosperous kingdom, a small crown atop his plethora of curls. And as one, the crowd kneels.
“Heaven-blessed,” one murmurs, and it spreads like wildfire. “Heaven-blessed!” They call out, and the king lowers the baby back into his arms, coddling the infant safely.
~
The baby is a day old when he is scooped up by the king to see his brothers. He is held gently to the king’s chest, buried in warm red blankets as they walk down the hall. His brothers open the door and coo over the baby, childlike joy in their eyes. They kneel before the clueless infant and swear that they will protect him until they die. The king gently reminds them it won’t be necessary, but there’s a steel in their eyes that promise eternal punishment for anybody that dare harm the youngest.
“What should we name him?” The king asked.
The brothers consider the golden curls, the shining teal eyes, the flushed cheeks, and porcelain skin. “Theseus,” the pinkette murmurs.
And so Prince Theseus Craft, Third to the Antarctic Throne, is named.
~
Theseus is two when he has his first nightmare.
He wakes up in a sweat and blinks back tears. The toddler clambers out of his bed and opens the door.
He waddles down the hall, stuffed cow in hand, looking for a specific room. He passes several paintings of his older brothers and father, and family portraits.
Theseus wanders down the hall and comes to a halt in front of an elegantly carved door. He tugs hard and opens it.
Inside, the moonlight perfectly frames long pink hair spread out on the white silk pillow.
Tiny Theseus closes the door and clambers onto the bed, struggling to get his leg up.
He snuggles under the warm blankets and doesn’t flinch when large warm hands wrap around him and cradle him into a warm chest, the owner’s steady heartbeat resonating through his body.
Neither of them mentions it in the morning, when Techno walks into the dining hall with a sleeping Theseus gently cradled in his strong arms.
~
Theseus is five when he first starts sneaking into the palace kitchens.
This time he’s genuinely hungry, but dinner isn’t for another few hours. He pouts and sneaks into his older brothers room, bouncing on the bed as he practices the guitar.
“Wilby, I’m really hungry,” he grumbled. Wilbur looked up at him, setting down the guitar, and scooping up the youngest.
“Let's get you something to eat, yeah?” Wilbur carried the youngest down the hall to the kitchen, peeking inside.
He grinned as he saw the pink-haired baker at work.
“Be very quiet,” he whispered. Theseus nodded, and they crept inside.
Wilbur snatched some sugared tarts, a small loaf of sourdough bread, and a heart shaped fruit cookie. They were out the door in a few seconds.
They ran down the hall, holding their prize and laughing in glee. The brothers skidding to a halt upon seeing the oldest heading towards them.
“Watch this,” Wilbur whispered, and Tommy nodded.”
“Wilbur, what did you sneak this time,” Technoblade asked, unimpressed.
“We went to get Theseus a snack, he’s starving,” Wilbur frowned, and Theseus sniffled to add on to the charade. It wasn’t too hard to fake.
“We also got you this,” Wilbur said slyly, handing Technoblade the heart shaped cookie.
They ran past him as Technoblade munched on the cookie, laughing at the victory.
~
Theseus is seven when his first ball is held.
It is a day before the ball, and he is layered in warm reds and cool blue hues, a golden crown decorated with emeralds placed gently atop his golden curls.
He is expected to dance, and he does not want to.
Yet now, in the ballroom, where he can see decorators placing potted plants at the bottom of white marble pillars, Sun Singers angling the light just right so it will hit the dais where his family will sit, Wave Whisperers creating droplet animals in the koi pond in the middle of the hall, Wind Whispers letting rose petals gently fall from the domed roof, he wants to waltz.
Theseus makes his way to his father and asks him quietly to teach him. His response is a gentle smile and a nod, and a giddy child makes his way to the middle of the ballroom. His father follows, and teaches him.
Step back, step right, step forward, step left, repeat. Place your hands on the partners waist, at the end of the dance do an elegant bow, not deep enough to let the crown fall, but enough to show respect.
A half an hour later, Theseus leaves the ballroom, face flushed with joy, eyes sparkling with happiness.
~
Theseus is eight when he goes to the towns for the first time.
A plethora of guards surrounds him and his family. The citizens cheer loudly as they see the youngest prince, some dancing in happiness. They throw flower petals on him, and some land in his hair. “Heaven-blessed!” They cry. They complement his teal eyes, his fair skin, his slender fingers, and his golden curls.
He spots another heart cookie at a bakers stall and remembers how much his oldest brother has a fondness for them.
He walks over to the stall, accompanied by a blonde-haired guard. He purchases the cookie and leaves a tip, turning to the guard as soon as he’s done.
The guard looks panicked and pulls Theseus into an alleyway.
“I saw something, lets stay here for a second.”
Theseus turns to look outside, and feels a hand roughly grab his upper arm. He shakes off the hand and runs up to an approaching Techno, unaware of the growl the guard let out.
“Tech!” He cheers, handing his oldest brother the heart cookie. His oldest brother smiles warmly, splitting the cookie in half and handing half to the child.
They happily eat the cookie as they make their way back to the carriage, the child blissfully unaware of the guard’s form following close behind.
~
Theseus is ten when he wakes up to a hand on his mouth, his wrists held by another hand, a hooded face with a porcelain mask, blonde hair falling out over the mask.
Theseus draws back a leg, kicking the attacker in the kneecap. The attacker grunts, hand leaving his mouth to clutch at his knee.
Theseus takes a deep breath.
“TECHNO!” He shrieks, as loud as his can.
The attacker lunges, hand wrestled back over his mouth, other hand grabbing rope, holding his hands in place as the attacker secures them.
Theseus struggles wildly as a white gag gets shoved into his mouth. The attacker wrestles him off the bed and drags him to the ajar window.
Theseus wails against the gag, struggling frantically.
The door slams open, and Technoblade, Wilbur, and Phil enter the room.
Technoblade has a crossbow in his hands, Wilbur has a sword, and Phil is unarmed. To be fair, he doesn’t need weapons, all he needs is to touch Theseus’s attacker.
Theseus whimpers, and the attacker takes a wary step back.
“Don’t come closer!” The attacker says, holding Theseus in front of him like a human shield.
Techno looks furious, Wilbur looks as if he’s going to explode, and Phil looks concentrated.
“Put him down now!” Wilbur demands.
“This won’t be pretty for you if you don’t put Theseus down right now,” Techno growls.
The attacker tilts his head.
“I’ll put him down all right.” Theseus can hear the smirk in his voice.
He squeezes his eyes shut, tears pouring down his face.
A choking gasp sounds from behind him, and Theseus is dropped.
He yelps, and lands on a warm sweater.
Nimble fingers untie the gag and remove the rope, and then Theseus is being cradled, held to a warm chest as his brothers surround him, as guards pour into the room to remove the body, as his dad calls back whatever power he sent to kill the attacker.
Theseus sobs into the sweater, shoulders shaking with the force. Theseus whimpers as his father drops down next to him, his large ebony wings surrounding the family, as they cradle the youngest.
They stand up as one, Wilbur carrying Theseus as he grips his sweater like his life depended on it. They leave the youngest’s room and go into the King’s. They lie on the bed, forming a cocoon centered around the youngest. The youngest curls into a ball, the middle lies next to his, the older tugs Theseus into his warm grip like he did all those years ago, and the eldest spreads his wings over the group, protecting his children.
Like he always will.