Chapter Text
Ranboo, for the first time in his life, found himself content.
It was… it was a pretty big deal, honestly. No longer did he wander the halls of the palace bored out of his mind. No longer did he long for the company of someone he could actually talk to instead of one of the idiots outside. No longer did he lie awake and restless with his eyes stapled open wide staring at the ceiling. No longer did he complain about his life, if only internally, because there was nothing to complain about. He may be trapped within these palace walls, but he had a direct line of communication to his soulmate. He had someone to talk to, staying up late writing on his arm, laughing at jokes and exchanging stories. He had someone who… who was there, with him. Maybe not physically, but he could feel it deep within his soul, his heart. Tommy was there beside him every time they laughed together, every word written on his skin, every broken syllable in their strained telepathic connection. And it was perfect, it was.
They had so much to talk about. Ranboo could never get bored of their conversations, they could go on and on for hours. Tommy wrote paragraphs on his arms detailing everything about the Overworld when Ranboo admitted that he didn't know much about it, and in turn, Ranboo told him what he knew about the End, the stories he'd read in the hundreds upon thousands of books in the library. He was more interested in hearing about the Overworld though, the animals and the flowers and the people. Someone named Tubbo came up quite a bit, and then Wilbur…
And then Tommy started talking about something called L'Manberg, a… country, he had said? Ranboo wrote down everything he told him, lest he forget the more important details. Apparently they were fighting for independence. It sounded interesting, Tommy made it sound like a game.
And… then he didn't.
Almost radio silence. For weeks. Tommy's responses were rushed, a quick can't talk rn or hey give me a sec and then nothing. Ranboo understood, Tommy was far busier than he was, but that didn't stop the enderman hybrid from being concerned. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. He could feel it. He could feel Tommy's gut twist, he could feel sparks of horror and anxiety and true, raw fear and anger and worry. It kept Ranboo up most nights, watching his arm anxiously and waiting for something to pop up, something to assure him his soulmate was okay. He tried communicating with him telepathically, but Tommy's responses remained the same. Anxiety from his end turned into rushes of adrenaline and a grim sense of determination, and Ranboo didn't want to distract him too much from whatever he was doing, so he kept quiet.
Suffering through Tommy's emotions was… it wasn't fun. It was a whirlwind of negativity and uncertainty, and Ranboo so badly wanted to be there. There was an instinct deep down, a rooted desire to just… to just be able to move in and wrap his arms around the younger teen, which was certainly something, because Ranboo didn't do hugs. He didn't do physical contact. Actually, at this current moment in time he couldn't remember the last time he'd been touched.
But he wanted to do something. Reassure him, help him. He felt so helpless here, so useless.
Never before had he wanted to leave his home so badly.
He couldn't say how long it lasted, he lost track of the days just as quickly. Tommy checked in sometimes, if only for a few seconds at a time. Ranboo cherished those moments, anything that reassured him that his soulmate was alive. He would wait, he could wait as long as he needed. Patience was something the Prince had long learned. Patience was a virtue, and a necessity.
Finally, one night, his patience paid off. He was staring at his arm, tracing circles in his skin with his thumb, when the first letter popped up; Ranboo snatched his hand back at once as if he had been burned, sucking in a sharp breath and staring down with wide eyes as he watched more letters appear. He was too caught up in the letters to actually register the words, the sentence they were forming. Relief overpowered everything else at the moment, he was just happy to hear from him. He was just happy he was okay. He could rest easy, at least for one more night.
Then he actually registered what had been written.
hey sorry it's been a while shit's been crazy here. uh yeah so i accidentally got caught up in this whole war thing and i lost two lives and uh yeah but i think everything's good now we should be
It cut off there. Ranboo opened his mouth and stared, pupils shrinking as he took it all in.
"You-" He choked off, turning to his thoughts instead. YOU WHAT?!
Shock flooded his senses from Tommy's end, a suffocating amount of surprise and confusion. Ranboo caught himself quickly, clasping his hands over his mouth even though he hadn't actually yelled the words aloud, and doubled over, trying to regulate his breathing. Tommy what. Tommy lost two of his lives. Tommy lost two of his canon lives. Tommy had fought in a war. No. What? Ranboo couldn't process this. Tommy had died. Tommy had died twice how did he not-
Ranboo scrambled to grab his quill and ink, hurriedly scribbling down are you okay? on his arm. If the quill sank a little too deep and pierced through his skin, well, that wasn't too important. What was important was making sure Tommy was okay, but- no fuck I'm sorry that's a stupid question of course you're not okay but are you safe? Are you like physically okay? Are
Dude I'm fine I swear the response was rushed and sloppy, but Ranboo nearly dropped his quill in relief. I mean a pause. A long pause. I don't know. I don't know if I'm okay it's uh it's really bad
Ranboo choked back a whine at the words.
He felt something deep within him, a tug, a pull. A need to get closer. A need to be beside him.
I guess it's just weird you know? losing two lives back to back it's kind of scary but I'm okay
Another pause.
physically
And emotionally… Ranboo's head was pounding, agony searing through his skull. Tommy was holding it together for the most part, but Ranboo felt his anxiety, his fear, as strong as his own. Strong enough that he wanted to start screaming again. He wanted to do something, anything.
hey, you cussed big man Tommy wrote. good on you, A+
Ranboo was going to the Overworld.