Chapter Text
An order had been sent out by the king to search for a flower said to have been sent by the sun, a prophecy. The queen, carrying their third child, had fallen ill. Fearing both his wife’s life and the child’s, the king had quickly ordered people to search the nearby forests and mountains to find a flower said to have healing powers.
The royal guard had scurried off to look for the flower, coming up empty handed. Except for one, fateful day.
The queen’s condition had worsened, she was on death’s door when guards had rushed back with the flower. A remedy had been made immediately, the queen given it and she healed.
The queen gave birth to a healthy boy, with golden hair like the sun and wings, like his father.
However, after the birth, the queen succumbed to her previous illnesses, the power of the sun not enough to keep her alive.
The kingdom mourned for weeks at the loss of their beloved queen. Kristen Craft had been a wonderful queen, a kind and humble ruler from a farmer’s origin, and she made sure to keep her husband and children in check.
With the news of her passing, the kingdom fell into grief. The king was devastated, and he could barely make a speech to the public with the news of his wife’s passing. The children, Wilbur, Technoblade and the newly named Theseus, were not present to the public, the king not wanting to subject his children to any unnecessary questioning about their mother’s passing.
It had been about a month since the queen’s passing, and the kingdom still did not fall back into its original rhythm. The king did not make any public appearances, the children could not be seen at all, the palace seemed abandoned.
People could not even see their king spread his wings and use his gift as he so often did, to check up on the towns farther away from the capital. The king was barely functioning without his beloved wife, so much they could see.
One fateful night, a man with a white mask broke into the castle, into the king’s quarters where the baby Theseus lay sleeping soundly, and took him. Stole him from his father’s arms, another loss for the royal family.
The king had sent out another order, this time for his son. No one had been successful.
After another month, people gave up. But the king did not. He knew his son was alive, he could feel it. His instincts told him so. The king searched endlessly for his son, ending up empty handed each time.
So instead, after a year of nothing and empty hopes, he sent a lantern up into the sky on his son’s birthday. It had become a tradition now, a celebration for his people.
Philza Craft, king of Antarctica, wished for his youngest to come home and hoped the lights he let into the sky would lead him back into his arms.
Tommy bounced around the tower. Dream was coming home today, or at least he estimated his trip to be only around four days, and the fourth day was running up. Tommy was excited, Dream wasn’t around as much anymore, Tommy felt lonely, although he did have Shroud.
Shroud was a spider Tommy had found some time back, and still to this day it was alive and thriving. Tommy and Shroud were best friends, Shroud was all Tommy knew aside from Dream.
Tommy had been in a tower all his life. All of his seventeen years of living confined within walls of brick.
He didn’t have time to dawdle on his past, or how lonely he was, or how empty the tower felt even with Shroud. He had to clean and make everything pretty for Dream’s arrival. Maybe he might even get a reward for his good behavior.
Tommy mopped the floors, cleaned the sheets, dusted every shelf, rearranged the bookshelves, and cleaned up after his attempt at baking he tried this morning. It didn’t end well.
Shroud was somewhere around, Tommy too occupied with his cleaning to look for him.
At the end of his cleaning session, the whole place practically shining with his own reflection. The tower was quite tall, and even after all of these years Tommy didn’t know how he entered the tower.
Tommy himself had wings the color of gold, yet he had never tasted the freedom of flight. His wings were a mere accessory for Dream to admire. Dream loved to play with his feathers, he didn’t preen him as much as Tommy would’ve liked, but the few times he did, Tommy would feel like he was in heaven.
Preening was a big part of being an avian, and if one’s feathers weren’t regularly preened they became messy and uncomfortable.
Tommy ruffled his feathers, stretching his wings out. He couldn’t count the times his instincts cried for him to just jump out of the tower and soar away. His inner bird cried and cried for Tommy to escape from the clutches that was the tower and yet, Tommy continuously ignored him. His own instincts.
He was barely a functioning bird, and he knew for certain that if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to fly. It was probably too late for him to learn it now, he was almost seventeen years old. He was long overdue for flight lessons, and his wings probably wouldn’t support his weight.
Tommy sighed and made his way upstairs and into his bedroom. It was rather messy, but when was it not? Discarded feathers lay on his bed and on the floor around it, the broken feathers falling out.
He was in desperate need of a preening, but Dream wouldn’t let him do that. Dream was very strict about when Tommy’s preening sessions would be, and when they would not. But with Dream coming home, Tommy was sure that he’d been a good boy, that Dream would be nice to him and preen his wings.
He whined into his pillow, wanting to claw at his wings to get rid of the broken and misplaced feathers, but he knew it’d only leave his wings red and raw. Even if he would start preening himself, he knew that once Dream returned he’d be punished.
Tommy froze when he heard the creaking of a door. The clanking of armor was present, and he sprung up from his bed and rushed to the door, seeing Dream in all his glory in the middle of the floor.
“Dream!” Tommy exclaimed, the armored figure turning towards him. The white mask with the poorly drawn on smiley face stared back at him. The avian ran up to the older man, excitedly jumping into his arms.
Dream let out a chuckle, a hand in Tommy’s hair and ruffling the blonde curls. Tommy fought back the urge to lean into the touch, knowing he would most likely just get reprimanded for it. He was no longer a child, he couldn’t act on his impulses like that anymore.
“Welcome back! I’ve missed you!” Tommy said, a beaming smile on his face.
“It’s good to be back. The trip had a few bumps in the road, hence why I am a bit late, but I’m here nonetheless.” Dream said, putting down his bag and sword on the table. He started disassembling his armor, putting it on the armor stand sitting by the bookshelves.
“Do you need me to shine it?” Tommy asked from behind Dream, watching the older man finish putting the armor on the stand. It was a shiny purple, made from a rare kind of metal found in a different dimension.
Tommy had asked Dream about his armor and weapons multiple times, always having the same response. It was a gift from someone who was close to me. Nothing more.
Tommy didn’t exactly buy it, but didn’t want to ask further in case he would anger Dream.
“Not right now.” Dream said, putting his mask down on the table besides his bag. He turned to Tommy, showcasing his bruised and cut up face. Tommy’s heart dropped.
Dream was injured. He was hurt. How did he get hurt? Dream never got hurt. Not this badly at least. Although there was that time Dream barely crawled into the tower with a stab wound-
“Tommy.” Dream said, snapping Tommy out of his thoughts. “Let’s sit down so we can heal, okay?” The younger blonde nodded, rushing to grab the pair their usual chairs.
Healing was something Tommy had been capable of since he was a kid. The powers appeared around the same time his down feathers grew in, when his wings grew out the golden feathers that sat on his back. Dream had begun vigorous training for Tommy’s healing abilities since they revealed themselves, overexerting Tommy to see for how long he could heal, how big the wounds could be, etc.
The process of training had been awful, Tommy collapsing multiple times a week due to the amount of stress he was putting on his body. Healing took a lot of physicality, a lot more than one might think.
Tommy could heal with his hands, and his tears he had found out. He cried a golden liquid, much like his hair and wings. He preferred using his hands, it was an easier method although it did cost more energy.
Placing his stool in front of the chair he had dragged onto the middle of the floor, he grabbed Dream’s hand and ushered him to sit down, Tommy doing the same. “Heal first, then preen?” Tommy asked, hoping he would get preened first. Gods knew he needed it more than healing.
Dream stayed quiet for a beat. “Let’s preen. Your beautiful wings look a mess.” Tommy could cry when those words left Dream’s mouth. He ruffled his feathers, then expanded his right wing and allowed Dream to run his fingers through the feathers, fixing the misplaced feathers and picking out the loose ones. Tommy crooned and peeped during the entire preening process, his peeping growing louder as Dream worked on the oil glands, letting his wings be massaged properly.
Gods, Tommy had missed this. He was so happy, just wanted to wrap his wings around Dream and get lost in his instincts. He was close to it anyway, it was that time of year when his instincts would go haywire and Dream would lock him in his room for the week.
“Alright, songbird.” Dream said, voice soft as he moved his hands off Tommy’s wings, who whined in response. “No complaining.” Dream sternly reminded, Tommy quickly shutting up and shutting off his instincts as best he could.
“Your turn.” Tommy turned to Dream, putting his hands gently on the older’s face and let his power flow. His hands felt warm as a light emerged from his hands, the bruises and cuts on Dream’s face slowly disappearing. It was a painless procedure for the second party involved, however for Tommy it was physically exhausting.
Small bruises and cuts would cause nothing more than a very mild headache though, but larger injuries like a gash or a proper wound would make him pass out. Even with all of the training he had gone through with Dream, his body wouldn’t allow him to keep healing.
Dream sighed, Tommy lifting his hands off of his face to admire his work. Dream’s freckle-filled face was clean of any bruises or cuts, safe for a small scar above his eyebrow. Unfortunately, Tommy’s healing powers could not stop the healed from getting a scar, it was a reminder of the wound he healed.
“Thank you.” Dream said simply, standing up from his chair so Tommy could put it back in its original spot.
“Your birthday is coming up.” Dream commented, watching the teenager bounce around as he grabbed the proper supplies to shine the armor and weapons. “It is.” Tommy replied, filling a bucket with water and putting it on the ground by the armor stand.
“What would you like? As a present, that is.” Dream asked, having gone into the kitchen to presumably pack away the supplies he brought in from his trip. “To see the floating lights.” Tommy replied, dunking his sponge into the bucket and starting to clean one of the arm guards.
Dream didn’t reply for a moment, Tommy’s anxiety growing at the silence. “The what?” Tommy huffed, pushing his hair back. “Yeah, you know. The lights that always appear in the sky on my birthday. I thought you know- since I’m turning seventeen I could finally- finally go out and see them in person.”
Tommy moved to the shoulder pad, dunking his sponge back into the water. “And what makes you think I’d let you do that?” Dream barked out, Tommy’s wings ruffling in fear and moving to cover him a bit.
Tommy didn’t like it when Dream raised his voice, it never meant anything good. “It-It was just an idea.” He quickly said, trying to get Dream to calm down. “I didn’t expect it to go anywhere.”
Dream appeared behind him, hand grasping his shoulder harshly and turning Tommy to face him. Tommy’s eyes were struck with fear, his heart wrapped in anxiety as he avoided Dream’s face.
He looked everywhere but at the looming figure.
Tommy and Dream were relatively the same height, in fact, they shared a lot of similar features. The hair color and the height were two leading factors, whereas in Tommy’s eyes were a bright blue, Dream’s were green. They were a light green, it reminded Tommy of the forest below.
“It won’t go anywhere. Ever. You know the rules, Tommy.” Dream gritted out, eyes boring into Tommy’s.
“I do- I do.” Tommy’s hands were shaking, he was trembling in fear. Dream was angry, meaning something bad would happen. Some kind of punishment, Dream leaving for a while, being locked in his room, wings tied together. Tommy’s wings wrapped around himself, but Dream’s hands grabbed a handful of the feathers and threatened to yank.
Tommy winced in pain, keeping down a distressed peep. “Please- please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Why was his flock hurting him again? What did he do this time? He only wanted a birthday present, was that so bad?
Dream kept his hold on the feathers, threatening Tommy to disobey, to say the wrong thing, to test Dream’s patience. “You know the fucking rules, Tommy. Don’t ever suggest something like that again.” Dream exhaled sharply and let go of the feathers, Tommy collapsing as soon as the feathers were free.
“Go to your room. Don’t come out until you have the go-ahead from me.” Tommy scrambled to his feet and ran up the stairs, shutting the door behind him once he was inside his room.
He collapsed again in front of his door. With his back against the wood, he curled in on himself, his wings coming around him again to provide some sort of safety, some sort of comfort. His wing still hurt where Dream had gripped his feathers, threatening to pull them out.
Tommy shuddered at the thought, the anxiety clawing at his chest once more. He made Dream angry again, he messed up again.
That seemed to be a really good talent of Tommy’s.
Bringing his knees to his face, Tommy let the tears fall as quiet sobs wracked through his body. It wasn’t often that Tommy cried, he had gotten a lesson from Dream a few years ago that crying was for babies, and Tommy was no baby.
He never showed his weakness in front of Dream. He was taught better than that.
So Tommy pitifully sobbed quietly in his room, while Dream figured out a way to punish him.