Chapter Text
Far up in the snow-capped mountains of a cold kingdom, an icy empire, rests a palace of white stone walls and blue spires overlooking a city nestled to stand strong against the harsh climate. The bridge that spans the raging waters between the two stands sturdy, an ornate but practical structure that offers some cover from the elements to those who travel across it. Tall stand the walls that surround the capital city and overlook the blue-roofed homes and shops that house the bustling lives of people with warm spirits in a cold climate.
Within the palace across the bridge reside two brothers, twins, who watch over their kingdom. They rule together, sitting side-by-side on golden thrones.
At least, they sit there on occasion.
In reality, the pair hardly ever sit on their thrones in favor of running through the long halls, ducking past guards and servants to escape their snooty advisors in their ridiculously fancy robes. Though, the rulers cannot be blamed for avoiding their all-too-serious and ridiculously over-worried overseers. The pair are, after all, just children. Both fifteen years of age and quick to clarify that they are in fact not children. And yet, perhaps, still too young to rule as they don’t mind playing the child card when they would rather hide—quite literally—from their responsibilities.
On one such day when the boys are in such a mood to cause mischief, the pair tuck themselves away in one of the narrow servants’ passages in the kitchen, interrupted from their attempt to snag some of the delicious-smelling bread recently pulled from the oven, door shut to hide their muffled giggling and shushing. On the other side of the door, the footsteps and voice of their particularly uptight, green-robed advisor draw nearer to their hiding spot. The twins can’t quite make out his words, but his voice sounds deeply frustrated. They would likely be in a lot of trouble when they were found, but it would be worth it. Messing with their counsil was always worth it. For now, they sink back a little farther into the passage, doing their best to make as little noise as possible. Straining their ears, they struggle to listen to the voices of the servants talking with their advisor.
A few more steps back farther from the voices with their eyes still on the door, and the pair freezes as they bump into something—or rather someone. A gentle hand settles on their shoulders. “Are you boys making trouble again?” whispers a familiar, warm voice in their ears.
“Kristin..?” The pair hesitantly turn their heads to find the smiling face of none other than their governess.
She giggles with her own glint of mischief in her eyes. “I think you two ought to come with me.”
Looking at each other and flicking their ears in silent communication, they relent, seeing no other option as they’re pinned between a rock and a hard place—that is, an advisor and a governess. With a shared sigh they allow themselves to be led toward the door and the angry voice outside it, hoping they won’t be in too much trouble.
At last, Kristin reaches past the pair and opens the old wooden door of the servants’ passage. Instantly the bright sunlight shining through the grand window on the far side of the palace’s kitchen nearly blinds them, their vision having adjusted to the dimness of the passage, and they hardly acknowledge their snooty green-robed advisor through squinted eyes.
The blond man sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So this is where you’ve been hiding, Your Highnesses?”
Some snickers come from a pair of kitchen maids working nearby.
“You two cannot keep running from important meetings with the counsel—”
“Oh don’t be too hard on the boys,” Kristin says, drawing the two close. “I called them from it.” Though the boys weren’t looking, the know all too well the sweet smile she must be wearing—the same one she would use to beckon them down from climbing in a tree only to hand them an extra book to study, or the one she would wear when sending disgruntled servants away before turning around and making the twins clean up a mess that definitely wasn’t their fault. She’s covering for them, but they know it will probably mean extra studying later.
Their advisor knows the smile as well, and he regards her with a slight suspicion only to relent, apparently lacking the energy to challenge her or not seeing a point in doing so. “Well then, perhaps you could send them back to it? There is a very…” he takes a moment to glance at the servants and workers milling about, “important situation at hand that we need to discuss.”
“Hmm, very well,” she decides, the hint of mischief in her voice now directed at the young princes’ displeasure at attending another boring counsel meeting as she begins to lead them out of the kitchen and down the long hall.
With their eyes adjusted to the light, at least they’re able to enjoy the way the sun filters through the stained glass windows and casts bright colors on the walls and floor. In an over-dramaticized sense of wistfulness, they take in the bright colors as a last sense of joy before being forced into the dreary atmosphere of yet another meeting.
They would rather do anything else, but the twins comply with their governess’s nudging—they know better than to argue with her. Anyone else in the castle, they’d argue with, run from, or even prank as they please. But never Kristin. Never the woman they might catch themselves almost accidentally calling ‘mother.’ Never their kind but stern guiding force.
- -
That is how they find themselves in the stuffy meeting hall in their stiff chairs with Kristin silent behind them as they face their all-too-serious advisers. Their ‘official’ side swept cloaks hang heavy and far too warm on their shoulders. Really, why did they have to wear them for every counsil meeting? Right, traditional garb of the rulers when on official business within the palace, but why? Sure the empire is cold but this room certainly isn’t, even less so for the hybrid princes. Just another reason they can’t stand such meetings.
After what feels like a few long minutes of tense silence and a mixture of stressed and bored expressions—coming from the counsel and princes respectively—someone finally speaks up. The two recognize the deep voice of Eret and turn their gazes to the white-eyed advisor.
“Right, so, the reason we’ve called for this audience, Your Highnesses, is that we’ve received some… troubling news from our emissary in Manberg.”
The gold-robed form of Foolish is the next to speak. “Apparently there have been some rumors circulating the kingdom of a potential threat to our own empire.”
Lastly, it is the insufferable green-robed Dream’s turn. “Rumors of a spy, an assassin—we don’t don’t know for sure—being sent here.”
Oh. That is rather serious.
“Well it’s only rumors, right? It could be nothing at all?”
“Tommy—” Dream sighed, “Your Highness, I don’t think we should take this threat lightly. If George is right about this, and he’s quite certain that he is, then you two could be in danger.”
Tubbo speaks up before Tommy can respond. “Is there any information on who they might be sending?”
Dream shakes his head. “No confirmation of a name, just that the individual is likely a bird hybrid.”
The twins—goat hybrids, themselves—twitch their ears. This is certainly something to consider.
Foolish sighs. “Schlatt never has been content to be our ally. I suppose it was only a matter of time before he tried something like this.”
Tommy scoffs. “That man is a real bi—”
“Tommy…” Kristin warns.
“...big pain, is what I was going to say. Because he is a big pain, an a— er, absolute menace to society n’ sh— stuff.”
“Nice save,” comes Tubbo’s too-loud whisper. Primes, doesn’t he know subtlety?
Kristin gives a satisfied nod anyway.
At the sound of a throat being cleared, the boys turn their heads back to Dream.
“Something needs to be done about this. I think we should get George out of there, it might not be safe—”
“No,” Tubbo interrupts, and Tommy marvels at how his brother manages to think so critically, “we need him there gathering as much information as possible.”
“Knowledge is power, innit,” Tommy seconds, “And we really don’t know much about the situation, do we?”
“Look, we don’t know when they’re coming—they could already be here. We need to—”
“Then we had better find out, don’t you think?” He suppresses the urge to call the man a rather unkind name, mindful of his governess seated behind him. With a sigh, he slumps back in his seat with Tubbo quick to copy the motion. “Increase the guards patrolling the castle and around the capital until we know more. Have them keep an eye out for any suspicious winged individuals turning up spontaneously from Manberg.”
“Should we not prepare an offensive move?” Eret chimes in.
Dream shakes his head and Tubbo speaks up. “Not based on rumores. We don’t want to risk a needless war. Especially not when there’s a chance that nothing will come of this.”
Tommy considers for a moment. “Well, we could. We’d easily win a war, you know.”
“Are you so eager to destroy the peace your parents worked so hard for, Tommy?”
He throws a scowl in Dream’s direction. It’s not that he hates the mention of his parents, or being compared to them. He knows they were good rulers and would like to say he misses them, but how could he miss someone he never knew? No, he’s angry because Dream is right and he hates when Dream is right. The empire doesn’t need a war, and it would be best to avoid one if at all possible—even if it is against Schlatt and his little kingdom of Manberg that has been nothing but an inconvenience for years, profiting from trade deals while giving almost nothing in return—
No, no, Dream is right. No war. Not now.
Tommy sighs and stands from his seat, tired of sitting still and acting formal and having to answer to Dream and the rest of the counsel “Is that all then?”
“Yes, Your Highness, that’s all.”
“Good, then this counsil meeting is dismissed.” Grabbing Tubbo’s hand he pulls him along—though his brother puts up no fight at all—out of the stiff air of the room and out into the open atmosphere of the wide hall, sunlight streaming through the grand windows. He breathes a sigh of relief. The air is cooler out here, making the cloaks far more bearable to wear.
As the pair walk farther through the halls with no clear destination, Tommy notices Tubbo fidgeting with the hem of his cloak, his ears twitching in what the young prince recognizes as nervousness. “Something wrong, big man?”
“Do you think Schlatt would actually do something like this? Sending an assassin to get rid of us?”
“Hey, we don’t know it’s an assassin. And anyway, no, I doubt it. That guy is full of hot air and loud words but he doesn’t have the guts to mess with the Antarctic Empire. I’m sure nothing will come of this.”
Tubbo looks thoughtful. “You’re probably right…”
“Of course I’m right!” Tommy says with his signature enthusiastic smile. “And hey, even if he does send an assassin, no one will be strong enough to take down us big men!”
That makes Tubbo laugh. “Yeah, right, if you say so, ‘big man.’”
“I do say so,” he says with a firm, serious nod, before grabbing his brother’s hand. “Now come onnnnn, I still want to get some of whatever Niki’s baking!”
So the two boys run back through the halls causing their usual ruckus, Tommy never growing bored of the high ceilings or the walls painted with the colors of the stained glass windows. Sometimes, when they were younger, the two would play games in the mornings where they would hop from color to color, but today they simply barrelled their way straight to the kitchen.
Upon arriving, they are met with the sweet smell of different breads and pastries and the familiar sight of Niki pulling something out of the large oven. The smile on her face when she notices the boys is warm and genuine.
“Hello, Your Highnesses!” The pink-haired merling hybrid carefully sets the freshly baked loaf of bread down on the counter and takes off her oven mitts. With careful hands she removes the cork from the vial of water hanging around her neck and sprinkles some on herself. “What brings you here?”
“Bread,” Tommy says, staring at the object on the counter, only to be met with a jab from Tubbo’s elbow. “Ow…”
Niki giggles as she retrieves a knife and carefully cuts two slices off the steaming loaf, placing each on a cloth napkin. “You’ll have to be careful, it’s very hot,” she says as she hands the treat to the young princes.
The two nod eagerly as they accept their slices, silently comparing them and ready to argue over who has the bigger piece.
“I’m surprised you two are still wearing your cloaks. Don’t you hate them?”
Tommy and Tubbo both glance up in surprise, startled to find the red-haired merling, Sally, standing by the window with her own loaf of bread.
Glancing down, Tommy realizes he is, in fact, still wearing his obnoxious blue cloak. “Oh shi—”
“Tommy…”
This time the two whirl around to find Kristin standing in the doorway behind them.
“WHAT THE FU— fudge… pastry..?” Another jab from Tubbo. “Ow!”
Their governess’s smile is amused, but the two recognize the glint in her eyes. “Don’t you two think you should be studying? Especially since you were so busy this morning with that little stunt you pulled.”
“We did do our studies,” Tubbo insists, “before that…”
“Uh huh.”
Tommy sulks. He knows there’s no getting out of this one. Time to just accept fate he supposes. With grim acceptance, he shoves the majority of his bread slice into his mouth... promptly burning himself.
The group devolve into a fit of gasps and laughter as Tommy tries to withstand the heat—so as to not lose any of the bread—while Kristin leads him and Tubbo toward the palace’s library for their studies. For the moment, the news brought forth by the earlier meeting is blissfully forgotten.
- -
At the edge of the capital, a bird hybrid, a piglin hybrid, and a human seek shelter from the cold after their long journey from the kingdom of Manberg.