Chapter Text
It wasn’t always like this. Tommy had to remind himself that once upon a time there had been a dinner table where not a single seat was empty, there had been late nights where he’d been chased around the room by his brothers before finally being put to bed, and there had been hands tousling his hair or arms hugging him so tightly he believed his bones would snap everyday.
Now he scoffed to himself, thinking numbly that even breaking a bone would probably only get him a visit to the nurse’s quarters and a light scolding, followed by disappointed glances before he was left on his own again. Was it childish of him to want more attention? Maybe he was weird. Weren’t teenagers supposed to want space and freedom from their families?
“Most teenagers also don’t carry around stuffed animals,” he muttered, glancing at Henry The Cow. He quickly placed the soft, red plushie against his chest and stared up at the tall ceilings of his room. “Then again, most teens don’t live in palaces either.”
Tommy sighed deeply before deciding it probably wouldn’t be too bad if he got up and headed down to the main hall. He didn’t have piano lessons until the afternoon, and he didn’t feel like just staying in his room after having gone through the trouble of putting on his formal attire already. When he was younger Wilbur would always help him as he got dressed, smoothing out the wrinkles in his robes or cooing at the way his sleeves always seemed a bit too long. Later on, it was teasing Tommy for trying to dress himself and ending up with mismatched buttons or unfolded collars. Now Tommy had perfected the craft of handling his formal attire, solely because Wilbur had stopped coming by in the mornings and it wasn’t as fun to look like a rumpled mess if no older brother was going to tease him about it.
Tommy stared at his long, lanky build in the full-length mirror, his clothes perfectly fitted by their royal tailor, and wondered if it was his own fault for growing up so quickly. He’d wanted to hit a growth spurt so much when he was younger and his brothers would jokingly lean down on him or pretend not to see him when he stood right in front of them. He kind of wondered at times if his brothers were still pretending not to see him standing there, even now that his own line of sight was nearly matched up to theirs. Though, it was becoming more and more obvious that they didn’t have the time to put up with his antics.
Tommy was sure he had matured a lot over the past few years. Apart from his height, his personality had changed as well. He no longer made as much noise in the halls when he knew there was a meeting taking place, he bit his tongue in a lot of situations where he used to just babble on childishly while everyone sent him amused looks, and he’d even given up on bugging his family members to pay attention to him. It was boring to even try when he knew he’d just get an excuse and an empty promise anyway.
Still, he found himself wondering what it was that he lacked that made everyone pay him so little attention. He wasn’t as burly as his eldest brother Technoblade, but that bitch was massive. Tommy was convinced his brother wasn’t even human from the way he never seemed to falter in the many sword-fighting practices he’d observed his brother take part in. When he was younger, Tommy used to cheer him on and make Techno promise him that he’d be able to train with him as he got older. The promise was chucked out the window after Tommy had panicked when he held a sword in the practice ring the first time and nearly lost a finger. There was a conversation about waiting until he was ready to try again, but each time he thought about being trained to be a warrior like his brother his breaths came out faster and all he could see was the blood of the enemies on his hands–
Well, that was a problem for future Tommy.
Then there was his brother Wilbur, who had decided to become the family’s musical prodigy from the day he first picked up a guitar. His piano teacher had made it clear that Tommy did not possess this natural ability by the frustrated sighs and sly comments that compared him to his older brother almost constantly. Still, Tommy held no grudges as he recalled the nights spent with the three brothers huddled up in Wilbur’s room as they listened to him strum the guitar gracefully and sing quietly to ward off Tommy’s nightmares and Techno’s bouts of insomnia. Tommy hadn’t dreamt of monsters for a while, and it felt a bit silly to request a private concert now that Wilbur only played on occasion to impress guests. Techno hadn’t expressed any personal weakness since he’d started leading and training their soldiers.
There was also Wilbur’s impressive vocabulary that he’d dish out when speaking to officials or pitching his own ideas in informal meetings with their dad. Tommy technically wasn’t supposed to listen in on meetings, something about him being “too young for the topics being debated”, but it wasn’t like they had someone keeping an eye on him at all times. Though, a glass placed against the thick wooden door of the meeting room could only offer him so much muffled intel until he got bored with the repetitive back-and-forth or a servant who could potentially rat him out would walk by.
Last but not least on the list of people he couldn’t help but compare himself with was his father. The man who was just not someone you could realistically compare yourself with, in Tommy’s opinion. Phil, or King Philza to everyone else, was the only man in the kingdom to have visited The End and made it back alive. He was called numerous nicknames when he was younger and more reckless; back when he had supposedly slain thousands with his blade, flown all over the world looking for possible threats or allies, and challenged the fiercest warriors to a fight for the fun of it. Just for fun!
Many of his father’s stories had been relentlessly censored when he retold them back when they’d had full-on family dinners. Tommy had always interrupted some of the retellings to ask why his dad didn’t go on adventures like before, why he couldn’t go with him to see the cities he’d traveled to and the villages he’d discovered. Phil had always smiled gently, claiming that taking the throne and starting a family was his new adventure and that it was a much safer one for all of them. Tommy used to roll his eyes at the sickening sweetness of his words, especially coming from a guy people had nicknamed ‘The Angel of Death’ (which was also ridiculous, Tommy knew angels had wings while his dad clearly did not). But more recently, Tommy had begun to wonder if his father really did regret giving up his life of spontaneity to raise three princes within the stifling walls of their castle. It wasn’t like Phil was an outright bad parent, but as he had taken on more tasks as king it felt like Tommy hadn’t actually looked him in the eyes and held a full conversation with him since he was a preteen.
The only reminder that Tommy had that made him feel like he still belonged among the rest of them was his uncanny resemblance to his father. Other guests used to comment on it when he’d still been allowed to attend parties and formal events. It’d been a while since he’d been under the eyes of the scrutinizing public, something he’d asked about only a few times before realizing he wasn’t going to get an explanation beyond ‘safety measures.’
On the other hand, both of his brothers had taken after their mother. They’d been born dark-haired twins with warm brown eyes. Of course, Techno had ruined that matching image with his persistently dyed pink hair. Tommy still thought it looked badass though. It was weird, having a badass brother like Techno and a badass dad like Phil and then... Wilbur.
Tommy smirked, finally stepping out of his room and deciding to go search for Wilbur in order to bring this point up to his face. Dumb face, Tommy decided, speeding past portraits that aligned the walls. Tommy barely glanced at them, mentally reminding himself he was the most handsome member of the family for sure. Maybe that’s why everyone always seemed too busy for him, they didn’t want to stand next to him and let others see how much cooler he was. He was just so powerful and radiant, he exuded confidence and manliness.
“Tommy.”
Tommy let out a screech, a deep and manly one of course, as a hand clasped his shoulder. He turned to glare at the guard staring at him with slight amusement in his eyes, the bottom half of his face covered by the usual mask he wore. Something about protecting identity, as if Tommy didn’t already know his name. He also happened to be the only guard who acted casually around him, after Tommy’s consistent whining to stop calling him by proper titles. They made Tommy feel like a stuck-up bastard.
“Don’t laugh, Sam! There’s nothing funny about this. I could’ve suffered a heart attack. I could’ve reacted and killed you with my natural reflexes!” Tommy yelled in his defense. Sam blinked at him calmly, in that way that Tommy knew meant he didn’t believe a word he was saying.
“Prince Technoblade wants to see you. Maybe you can show him your killer reflexes down at the ring?”
Tommy paused, genuinely taken aback by the request. Logically, Techno only wanted to discuss something with him briefly. Still, it was an odd choice of location and Sam’s words made an anxious knot form in his stomach. He cleared his throat and tried to put on his usual careless grin.
“Yes,” Tommy blurted, scattering after Sam as the guard began a swift stride toward the double doors that led outside. “I mean, he’s probably asking because he needs my help practicing and manly advice.”
“Right, master of all martial arts and sword-fighting: Prince Tommy,” Sam replied sarcastically.
“You know it! Maybe you’re smarter than I thought, Sam.” Tommy stroked his chin as if deep in thought about Sam’s wits and potential use for the future. “Maybe next time I’m chatting with Phil about delaying my training since I already have so much experience of my own…”
“I don’t understand why you’d want me to vouch for you, Tommy.” Sam hummed as he held the door open for Tommy. Tommy stepped through and took in a deep breath of fresh air for the first time that morning, noting the cooler weather was starting to seep in and he would soon be able to see his breath as he exhaled. “I’m just a guard.”
“But you’re in charge of the other dickheads!”
“Tommy.” Sam glanced back at him as he led the way to the training grounds.
“...in charge of the other guards. Also, I’m old enough to say dick,” Tommy grinned mischievously. “Maybe even penis.”
“It’s not proper of a prince to use that language,” Sam responded robotically. Tommy groaned and rolled his eyes as Sam chuckled at the response. It was a phrase Tommy had grown up hearing on multiple occasions, especially as he started picking up new...vocabulary.
“You’re just like the rest of them! And here I thought you were on my side,” Tommy mumbled the last part under his breath. Sam cocked his head as he picked up on it anyway. He cleared his throat as if preparing to launch into a comforting lecture, but Tommy quickly launched himself in the general direction of the sounds of swords clanking against each other. “Bye Sam!”
Sam scoffed softly as he watched the blonde teen scamper off to the main arena of the training grounds; a ring of dirt in the middle of the field. “See ya around, Tommy.”
“I’ll kill you!” Tommy shouts, no real anger in his voice as he ducks another swing. He goes to land another jab before Techno catches it easily, snorting at his little brother’s carelessness. Tommy whines in protest and decides to give up, for now, pulling back to rest his hands on his knees and recover his stamina.
The last thing he had expected when meeting up with Techno was a one-on-one sparring session. One Techno had put thought into, seeing as all the swords were safely tucked away and he’d made sure to only teach Tommy how to throw punches. The concept of Techno looking out for him and his limits had made warmth spread throughout his chest, a feeling of being actively loved and cared for that he had nearly forgotten at this point.
“We’ve been at it for a while,” Techno noted. Tommy nearly rolled his eyes at how unaffected the other appeared even as Tommy was wiping sweat from his brow. He supposed it was important for someone like Techno to seem like he was always calm and in control, but it still both amazed and confused him. “Do you want to end here for today? Or, if you’re up to it–”
Tommy caught the cautious shift in his brother’s posture and the direction in which his gaze turned. “No. I-I’m not.”
“Alright,” Techno replied with the usual monotone manner, but Tommy couldn’t help but feel as if disappointment was hidden underneath it. It felt like a sharp pang to the chest, and suddenly he could almost feel the warmth from before slipping through his fingers along with his brother’s pride for him.
“I mean, I can try.” Tommy swallowed roughly as Techno raised an eyebrow at him.
He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment and his eyes drifted to analyze the dirt on his shoes instead. He suddenly felt a deep sense of shame at standing in front of the strongest warrior in their kingdom, childishly crumbling at just the idea of picking up his brother’s weapon of choice. Techno had never faltered like he had, not even when it meant going outside the palace walls and slaughtering the wrong’uns that betrayed the kingdom or threatened the safety of their civilians.
“We’ll leave it for another day, Theseus.”
Somehow, his proper name felt like a slap to the face. Like his brother’s walls had gone back up after the reminder that Tommy wouldn’t live up to his responsibilities yet again. Tommy grit his teeth as his brother went about tucking away the boxing pads.
“I’m not– ‘m not a pussy , Tech, I can do it.” Tommy felt tears sting his eyes annoyingly, adding to the humiliation of his weak argument. “I’m sorry I fucked up before but I promise I can.”
“Theseus,” A stern glance sent his way made the rest of his anger fizzle out. The previous warm appraisal in his brother’s eyes was gone, replaced by the same stony expression he had grown used to. “You know you’re not supposed to use that type of language.”
He tried not to feel too gutted at his brother focusing on his cursing rather than his pleads. It didn’t work.
“Sorry.” He turned his head away, willing his eyes to dry themselves. Even if Techno probably wouldn’t bother to look at him that closely, it was hurting his pride to display another hint of childishness in his presence.
“We’ll get back to it later…when you’re actually ready.”
Tommy could hear his brother step forward, stiffening as he felt his gaze burn into the side of his face. He deemed his eyes as dry as they were going to get and decided to try again.
“Techno, I promise I’m ready now. I don’t know why I was acting like such a… why I was acting so weak, but I don’t have time to wait around.”
“Theseus,” Techno breathed out, something changing in his closed-off expression. “You’re not–”
“I am ready! You don’t get to decide that for me! I’ll ask one of the soldiers to help me,” Tommy could feel himself grasping at straws, struggling to stay afloat. “I’ll order them.”
“You don’t have the rank for that.” Oh, maybe challenging his brother’s authority mid-argument wasn’t the best decision. Techno let out a weary sigh, and Tommy felt the remaining fight in him flicker out. He was being a nuisance again.
“I’m sorry.”
“Forget about it,” Techno turned to go, glancing over his shoulder momentarily. “You know you don’t have to follow in my footsteps, right? Wilbur never does any of the actual fighting.”
Tommy stared back at him, feeling hollow as his brother offered him a golden opportunity to just give up; to just admit to himself that he didn’t have what it took and he never would. “Yeah, I know.”
Technoblade gave a stiff nod, waving his goodbye as he left Tommy standing in the fighting ring by himself. Despite it only being used for training, he couldn’t help but feel he had lost the fight before even getting the chance to prove himself.
The next day made the bizarre one-on-one time with Techno seem like it was nothing.
Tommy had been debating whether he felt up to heading down to the dinner table only to be faced yet again with empty chairs or if he should take a page out of everyone else’s book and order his food to be brought to his room. Eventually, he had dragged himself down the stairs and to the dining room.
He was met with two people sitting at the dinner table. Two people who were in his family, and not just the servants that often took pity on him and kept him company (not that he didn’t appreciate them, it was just a bit sadder to eat with sympathetic stares surrounding him).
“Uh, hello.” Tommy winced at the hesitance in his greeting but did not receive more than a nod from his father and a small smile from his brother. His initial shock wore off as he realized it would probably just be another silent dinner. He sat down slowly, realizing a plate had already been set out in front of his usual spot. “Did we have plans? No one told me…”
“No, our meeting for the evening just got rescheduled last minute,” Wilbur explained. Tommy nodded, unsure whether to ask any more questions or if it would just get him a reprimand from their father. He raised his eyes from his plate, pushing the food around for a few seconds before gaining the confidence to try for some intel.
“Was it very important?”
“Not really,” Wilbur shrugged, his eyes finally gliding over to Tommy’s. Tommy straightened his posture at the response and newfound attention. Wilbur gave him a mischievous smirk. “It would’ve just been more generals with self-sacrificial speeches to boost their egos but ultimately keep their heads up their–”
“Wilbur.” Phil sent his older son a stern but exhausted look and Wilbur winked at Tommy as he tried to stifle a laugh behind his hand.
“I was going to say posteriors,” Wilbur explained with a mock-serious expression.
“Yeah, Dad, you know Wil doesn’t skip out on his vocab.” Tommy leaned forward to add to the playful banter but felt his breath hitch as his father turned to look at him. The informal titles felt foreign on his tongue but his father didn’t look at all surprised by them. Instead, he shook his head in the same ‘what am I going to do with you’ way he did when tolerating Wilbur. Tommy felt an actual smile slide onto his face without having to force it.
“So it would’ve just been more strategy talk..?”
Wilbur nodded at Tommy, taking a drink out of his glass. He gestured to the table as if it were a map, “It was gonna involve people from all over the neighboring lands in case we needed to form alliances but someone got held back for some unknown reason.”
“Wilbur, you know he’s been having trouble keeping his citizens in check.” Tommy’s head whipped around to face Phil. His father was leaning forward as if trying to engage in a debate rather than a dinner conversation. Wilbur scoffed, “Yeah, well maybe they have a reason for not following his orders, Phil. The guy’s a prick.”
“Wilbur,” Phil warned.
“Who’s the prick?” Tommy asked innocently.
“Theseus.” Phil looked at him incredulously. Tommy shrugged, ignoring the sting that came hand-in-hand with his proper name.
“What? I want to know what’s going on too!” Tommy protested, pointing at the two of them. “You’re the ones turning this into a boring old meeting, at least include me so it doesn’t feel as boring.”
“Theseus is right, we shouldn’t be discussing these topics at the dinner table.” Phil seemed to completely miss his point, settling back in his chair with a frown. Tommy’s eyes widened in despair.
“What? No, I’m saying that I’m old enough to know what’s going on!”
“I don’t know about that one, Little Prince,” Wilbur commented teasingly. Tommy wasn’t in the teasing mood. He glared at his brother and snarled, “You’re a prince too, dickhead!”
“Theseus!” Phil scolded him. Tommy blinked back at him stubbornly, ignoring the loud pounding in his ears and the shake of his hands. He continued his argument, “You tell Wil everything, and he got to start going to meetings when he was only a little bit older than I am now!”
“Wilbur has shown he’s mature enough for the setting and has been under my supervision from the start.” Phil shook his head as if the entire conversation was pointless. He leaned toward Tommy and spoke more gently, “I don’t want my youngest listening in on conversations that involve debating what lives to protect and which ones to sacrifice.”
Images of bloodied soldiers and his eldest brother’s blade swinging across neck after neck flashed in his mind, from nightmares long forgotten.
“He’s your son too!” Tommy shouted. Wilbur jolted in his seat at the sudden outburst directed his way but Tommy kept going. “Or did you forget that? You treat everyone else like they’re important enough to work by your side or under your command, but you treat me like a fucking baby.”
Phil’s gaze had darkened the second Tommy’s initial response had been blurted out, and it was only now that he had fallen silent that Tommy felt the weight of it. He shrunk back in his seat as Wilbur let out a low whistle at the tense atmosphere. Tommy had half a mind to punch him.
“Theseus, I don’t know what has gotten into you or when you became so ill-mannered, but we’ll have to talk about getting you a therapist or a tutor. There is no reason for you to...”
Tommy stared in silent disgust at the formal tone his father had immediately recovered. Phil continued talking but Tommy couldn’t hear anything other than muffled murmurs as his world seemed to crumble around him. Doubts that used to keep him up at night seemed to be creeping in now that he’d been shut down yet again for expressing how he felt. He sensed someone lean into his personal space for a moment, probably Wilbur trying to interrupt the lecture to defend him.
“Whatever,” Tommy muttered, stopping the conversation in its tracks. His entire body felt like it was buzzing with suppressed rage as he stood up from the dinner table. He didn’t care that his food remained untouched or that he hadn’t been dismissed formally. He began heading towards the door with heavy footsteps. “See if I care, Phil.”
That night he dreamt of Wilbur shouting commands across a large oak table with a furious glare, Technoblade swinging his blade down on crowds of soldiers who were gutted within seconds, and Phil somberly floating down to the fallen soldiers with a pair of giant, black wings on his back. Tommy wondered if his dad was the angel of death and, then, where he’d fit into this portrait of chaos. He woke up with a jolting realization that he didn’t fit, and laid awake until the sun rose, fearing that he never would.