Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy lay in his bed, staring at the blank white ceiling of swirling marble, and he could swear it was staring back. Orange light poured in through the crystal clear window next to his bedside, squinting as it stung his eyes, the lids of which threatening to snap shut at any moment as he drifted back to sleep. He had only awoken in the first place because the sun had begun to rise, rudely disturbing his slumber. As he heard no other disturbance, he rolled over onto his side, pulling the silk sheets over his eyes to continue to rest.

An impatient knock came to the door. "Your highness. The king awaits an audience with you." A shrill voice called from the other side of the door.

"Can it wait? I just woke up." The boy whined in a groggy voice. He had never really argued with the staff, but he recognized the voice of his mortal enemy.

"No sire. He expects that you will arrive with haste for breakfast. Do not disappoint." She demanded, no sympathy for the boy's plight of tiredness as he expected from the bastard. As badly as he despised her, she returned the feeling two fold. Tommy took in the information, looking confused as his eyebrows furrowed.

His father never ate breakfast with him. Why today? Did something happen?

Did Tommy do something wrong?

Well if he didn't hurry, he would certainly be in trouble. He was unkempt, which would surely upset his father, and tardiness might seal his doom.

With a huff, he peeled the sheets off his body as the cold air rushed to greet him. He rolled to sit on the bed, his bare feet meeting the cold floor with a jolt up his spine, still slightly shivering from the low temperature out side of his warm bed. His face scrunched as the light from the window engulfed his face, eyes not prepared for the sudden sting. He swiftly turned, standing up and walking to the door. His hair refused the inertia of the motions, sticking straight up as it was untamed (which it was).

Bed head. Oh god- he was dead for sure. His father hated when Tommy looked a mess, and the locks of hair were particularly stubborn.

He pried the door open to be met with Karen, the head maid, and her distinct look of distaste. Not many had distaste for his meer existence, finding him annoyingly loud or arrogant. He couldn't blame them. Even his father hated him-

No he doesn't. He loves you. He told you so. something echoed in the back of his mind, a shaky breath escaping without his notice. His father loved him. He had to.

The feeling was mutual. He hated them too. He just hated Karen more than most. Her screechy voice was like nails on a chalkboard, and she constantly threatened him. Almost more than dear old dad.

"You look absolutely dreadful, but we can't keep his majesty waiting. You're sure to be scolded. He expects better and you know that." She warned, Tommy only nodding reluctantly in response. He already knew all of that.

"Next time rise earlier in the morning."

That bitch. It was as if she had done this was on purpose. He pushed the feeling down, choosing to get her back later. He didn't wanna get upset this early in the day. Not before he spoke to his father.

Karen stepped out of the way of the door with a smug look of satisfaction on her face, turning to watch Tommy exit behind her. Tommy made his way down the hallway, being followed shortly by Karen for the moment.

Tommy began walking down the cold stone steps, his feet growing numb to the temperature. His comfortable pajamas swayed as he walked down the steps, holding tightly to the rails to maintain balance. He used his free hand to try and comb his mess of hair, unsurprisingly, making no progress. It seemed Karen had wandered off, not following Tommy and instead turning the corner.

The echoes of clattering dishes faded into hearing range, echoing from the kitchen. A routine noise in the morning for sure, but it was never quite this loud or hectic. What was happening?

Tommy made his way quickly to the dining room, nearly jumping off the stares. He ran to the dining room, slowing his pace before he reached the entrance. He walked in, straightening his posture as his brilliant blue eyes met his father's vibrant green ones. A blank stare was all the look he received from his father from the head of the table. The man immediately returned his attention back down to the sheets of paper that littered the table, pen firmly in hand. Tommy began heading to his seat at the fairly large table before his father spoke.

"Why aren't you dressed properly?" His father asked in a deep and foreboding voice.

Welp, dad woke up on the wrong side of the bed. It was over. Tommy was dead.

Tommy's breath hitched in his throat, standing frozen where he stood. "I- I just woke up and-" he stammered before being interrupted.

"Just shut up and take a seat Tommy." The king commanded sternly, seemingly too tired to care. Tommy approached the seat hesitantly. The king sat at the head of the table, no seat next to him except the ones that lined the sides of the table, Tommy choosing the one closest to his father on the right. His hand shook as he pulled the seat from beneath the table, stumbling as he sat down and pulled the chair back in. His father looked back up.

"Tommy, what have I said about the tremors?" The king spoke again without looking up, signing a paper hastily.

Tommy took shallow breaths, clasping his hands as tightly together as possible. "I'm sorry father."

"Don't be sorry. Be better. Now, why are you not properly dressed or groomed?" The man's piercing green eyes lifted from the papers, pinning Tommy to his seat as his father stared at him with a calm and cool expression. It was impossible to read his father's face.

"Karen just woke me up a few minutes ago." Tommy spoke quietly, almost a whisper.

"So, are you blaming Karen?" His father asked in a mockingly confused voice, almost laughing.

"No! No. Not at all." Tommy quickly amended.

"It sounded like it. You fucked up, so you take the responsibility." Tommy shuddered, his breath shaky as he exhaled.

"I'm sorry dad-" he was cut off again.

"Father."

Tommy's breath hitched in his throat again. "Right- I'm sorry father. It won't happen again."

"Don't lie to me Tommy." The man cooed menacingly.

Tommy's eyes went wide. "I won't. I promise."

There was a pause. Tommy sat in the unbearable silence, shallow breaths still being drawn from the teen.

"I'll reprimand you for your actions later. We have more important matters at the moment.." The king spoke, a long drawn out sigh escaping his lips, and a subtle eye roll occurring outside of Tommy's vision.

Tommy waited for his father to explain patiently, dreading the quiet that seemed to last for decades as they awaited their food, clangs of pots and pans could still be heard faintly.

His father coughed, clearing his throat. "Today we are meeting with the fae. Specifically the king of the summer court and his sons. I expect you to be on your best behavior. I also expect you to return to your room and get dressed suitably for the occasion."

Tommy looked up to meet his father's eyes curiously. "Why are they meeting with us?" Tommy asked, hands still firmly clenched in his lap.

His father met the look, face still effortlessly blank. "It is for border disputes, trade, laws, and negotiations." The man explained calmly while waving his hand around wistfully, setting Tommy at ease.

"Don't think I'll forget Tommy." The man reminded the boy.

Tommy lowered his head, gaze staring at the wooden table. "I know." Tommy said in a defeated tone.

"Good."

At that, a the door to the side burst open, a butler running up to the seats and placing the dishes of eggs, bacon, and a muffin onto the table. "Here you are your majesty's. Would you like anything else?" The man asked, tilting his head up to look at the king as he leaned forward, almost bowing.

"No. Take your leave." The king demanded, and the man swiftly exited the room, ducking out the side door.

As the doors shut, Tommy's father lifted his silverware, beginning to eat. As Tommy watched his father begin, he followed, taking a bit of the toast.

A moment later, his father looked back to Tommy. "Before you are allowed to interact with the fae, you must understand their rules fully. There are four. Pay attention." The man demanded, slightly lowering his tone to gain the boy's attention, as if Tommy's head didn't almost spin off from how fast he turned to look at his father.

Tommy nodded, and his father continued.

"Firstly, you will not use or give your real name or anyone else's. You will only tell them your name is Theseus." Tommy nodded again.

"Secondly, do not take any food or gifts from them under any circumstances." Tommy nodded once more.

"Thirdly, don't be rude to them. We are their hosts, so you must be cordial. You cannot disrespect them. Got that?"

"Yes."

"Lastly, don't say 'thank you'. Understood?"

"Yes father, but I have one question."

"Spit it out then kid."

"What will your name be?"

----------

After breakfast, Tommy was sent back up to his room to be dressed and groomed properly. He drudged up the steps sluggishly, not wanting to attend the meeting, but being specifically requested by the sons of the fae king. It was odd, but it was understandable. No one had ever seen him or spoken to him outside of the palace staff and the king.

He pushed open the door of his room, walking to his wardrobe and thrusting open the doors. His hand slipped across the shirts and pants that hung up, latching onto a white dress shirt with puffy sleeves and tight cuffs that ran the length of his forearm. He pulled down a pair of brown leather pants with his other hand.

He tossed the outfit onto his bed, turning back to the wardrobe, tearing out a large green cloak, which was mandatory for every outing or visit. It was an insignia of sorts that it was the kingdom of Dream Esempy. Golden embroidery, and a smiley insignia being the key features of the beautiful cloak, though Tommy despised how the simple smiley clashed with the detailed embroidery and stitch work.

He quickly changed into the outfit, draping the hooded cloak over his shoulders, clipping a golden chain across the collar of the heavy cloak. It was made of dense wool, and lined on the inside with soft white fur that retained warmth, but ensure it to remain cool during the warm summer.

As the cloak enveloped his for, he let out a sigh, preparing himself. He ruffled his hair once more, standing on his tippy toes to reach the top and snatched his hair brush. As his heels returned to the ground, he brushed through his hair with much vigor as his hair fought back adamantly. With much effort, he won the battle against the knots and cowlicks, throwing his brush back onto the bed with his discarded clothes. He took another deep breath, clenching his eyes shut as prepared himself once more. With much reluctance, he turned heel, walking towards his door, and exiting his room.

It was go time.

Tommy cascaded down the elegant steps, reaching the entrance room as his father awaited patiently, leaning against a wall as he watched the boy enter the room.

"Welcome to the party Theseus. Our guests will arrive shortly. Do you remember the rules?"

"Yes Dream."

"Very good."

Chapter Text

The king smiled, almost looking proud, but not quite. His vibrant green eyes bore holes into Tommy's, and for a moment the world stood still. Then a knock came.

Tommy's breath hitched in his throat, awaiting his father's reaction.

Dream waved a staff member over to open the door, the loud creak of the rarely used hinges squeeling as the man pried the door from it's closed position. Tommy's winced, light pouring into the room, stinging the boy's eyes.

Three figures stood at the front steps. One was shorter than the other two behind him, bright blue eyes and golden hair matching Tommy's almost exactly. A large bucket hat with green and white stripes shaded the man's face, and two large bird like wings were mounted upon the man's back. He wore a sleeveless black top with a turtleneck, a paler summer green cloak draped around his shoulders, two large cuts running down to accommodate the ebony wings curled on to the man's back. He wore a pair of knee high leather boots, laced up tightly, and a sword at his hip. It remained sheathed for obvious reasons, simply hanging menacingly. He smiled warmly as he entered, the two figures following cautiously.

One had short brunette curls, molten gold eyes hidden behind a pair of circular glasses. He wore a white dress shirt with blue and yellow embroidery, paired with blue toned grey pants, and a pair of black leather dress shoes. The majority of the colour came abounding from the boy's wrists, fingers, and ears, almost completely covered in a blanket of gold jewelry. It clinked together, almost ringing like bells as he moved forward. He smiled smaller, more reserved than his father. His eyes met Tommy's, moving to looking the boy up and down inquisitively. After a moment, his curiosity seemed to be satiated, smiling wider at the boy.

Another walked behind the two, taller than both due to the heeled black leather boots. His hair ran down to his ankles, his cherry blossom pink locks being tightly woven into a meticulous braid. He also wore a white dress shirt, although his was embroidered with gold and red thread. He wore deep crimson pants, and the aforementioned black leather boots. He was also adorned with plentiful amounts of gold jewelry, although not nearly as much as the other boy. A sword clung tightly to the man's hip, hand held firmly on the hilt in it's sheath. His piercing red eyes sized both Tommy and his father up, and in a moment the boy's blank expression seemingly lost a single ounce of tension. He fully stepped in, and the door clicked into place behind them.

Tommy's father smiled brightly, a thing Tommy had rarely seen. "Welcome your majesty! It is truly a pleasure to have you over this evening." He exclaimed, and the blonde man tilted his head up slightly, clasping his hands in front of himself.

"Hello Dream. It's a pleasure to see you as well." The man's voice echoed softly through the room unnaturally. It was almost ethereal. He turned his attention to Tommy.

"And who would you be? May I have your name child?" He asked curiously, as if he hadn't specifically requested his presence.

"Th- Theseus, sir. You may call me Theseus. I am Dream's son." Tommy stuttered, awkwardly gesturing over to his father as he took a step back, nerves having him especially on edge. He had not truly spoken to anyone outside of the castle walls since, well, ever. That, on top of the fact this was a diplomatic visit was with the fae who were notoriously known for their fickle and trickstery nature. He couldn't mess this up.

The man chuckled, the sound riding the air just as his voice did. "So you taught him the rules before hand? I can't say I'm surprised, you cautious bastard." The man said, letting out a sigh. The two boys behind him remained silent, although the brunette let out a large smile, cupping his mouth..

"And you wonder why when you try to steal my son's name? Philza, you are truly ridiculous sometimes." Dream chuckled, Tommy's eyes jolted back to his father as he spoke.

"I've been caught. Apologies mate." Philza spoke, his kind smile still ever present, lifting up his hands in mock defeat. "Shall we take our discussion to the dining room and leave the boys to their own devices for the moment?" He asked, holding his hands out in grandeur.

Dream seemed to drop his smile, nodding as he turned to Tommy. "Don't do anything foolish, Theseus." He spoke sternly.

Tommy nodded.

"I love you, Theseus."

"I love you too, father."

The fae king spoke to his children quietly, though Tommy didn't care to listen. He wasn't much of an eavesdropper.

And with that, the adults left to the dining room.

And now, Tommy was alone with two of the most powerful fae in the summer court.

Wonderful.

The tall brunette clasped his hands together in a loud clap as the aults left the room, Tommy's head swiftly turning from the direction of the dining room to the boy's in front of him, noticing the brunette's uncanny stare. He received a gentle nudge from the pink haired boy, seemingly noticing the discomfort he was bringing to the blonde as he shuddered.

"Ow- oh! Sorry Theseus. Got lost in my train of thought." He quickly stepped forward, hand held out to invite a handshake from the teen. "You can call me Wil. That over there is The Blade." He said chipperly. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The pink haired boy simply nodded with an "mhm." accompanying it. The brunette's voice was lyrical, while the other's was deep and raspy. It had the same echoey quality as their father's.

Tommy nodded. "The pleasure is all mine." He said quietly, accepting the handshake firmly. Wil's skin was soft and smooth. Almost unbelievably so. However, he could feel the impression of the man's well concealed claws at the edges of his fingertips. Tommy made note of the feature, choosing to say nothing about it. It was just one more reminder to keep cautious.

"I heard you two requested me to be present." Tommy stated, a silent pause coming from the two infront of him as the brunette's face seem to flush slightly. "Why?" Tommy posed the question with a distinct inflection.

Wil's lips seemed to purse in embarresment, while his brother remained effortlessly stoic and unreadable. That was a bit annoying. It reminded him of his da- Father!

Wilbur sighed. "I didn't think our dad or your dad would tell you."

"That doesn't explain shit, mate." Tommy replied bluntly.

Wilbur stilled at the curse, a shocked face being left to replace his smile, before it returned in a more relaxed way, still showing his disbelief. "Honestly, who taught you such foul language at your age?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Wil?" he spoke arrogantly.

"It means you're a child who shouldn't know what those words are, let alone use them with guests in your house."

"I'm not a child you old man!" Tommy yelled back the retort without thinking, not going back on his words however. He couldn't back down now. He watched the fae raise his eyebrows at the insult, taking in a deep breath.

"I'm not old! I don't look more than ten years older than you!" The boy shouted back incredulously.

"You are old, you bald headed bitch." Okay, now Tommy was pushing it.

Tommy honestly thought he was doomed by the putrid expression creeping across Wil's face. A pit dug itself in Tommy's stomach as his eyes went a little wider, continuing to try and feign confidence.

That was until a loud, hardy laugh that erupted from the Blade. He lurched forward, grasping for support from his knees as he crouched down, holding his side as he wheezed for air. "Oh my god!" He shouted, bringing a smile to Tommy's face, relaxing slightly, and a scowl to Wil's.

No one had really laughed, or reacted positively to anything Tommy had said. It was nice. It was a nice feeling that certainly wouldn't last. For now, it felt nice.

"What the hell man! You're supposed to be on my side!" His voice echoed through the halls.

"The kids got a point though. You're an old man by mortal standards." The boy wiped a tear away, as the other stood flabbergasted at the betrayal as Tommy chuckled a meer few feet away.

"We're twins you dumbass. If I'm old, so are you." Wil stated, gesturing between himself and the Blade.

"Difference is he's not bald, you bitch." Tommy chimed in again, a shit eating grin on his face as the man slowly turned back his attention to Tommy. This was funny to watch. The thought was confirmed by another snort from The Blade.

"I'm not fucking bald, you gremlin child!" Wil refuted, and Tommy shook his head vigorously.

"I'm a big man. Not a child!"

"No. You are most certainly a child. A gremlin child." Wil repeated.

----------

Hours went by like this, petty and playful arguments between the children, bickering and bantering back and forth. Occasionally they would speak of their interests. The Brunette loved music, art, and writing. Contrasting, the pink haired boy enjoyed most things concerning battle including tactics, fighting style, and weapon handling. Particularly the axe.

But eventually, the conversation was dead in the water, the two adults stepping out of the dining hall with unreadable expressions. Tommy hated poker faces. It scared him to be unable to read a person.

The fae king walked quickly, approaching his sons as his expression melted into a soft smile. "It's time to leave. Are you ready?" He was met with an unashamed whine from Wil, and a tight lipped expression from The Blade.

Were they sad to leave Tommy?

Nooooooo...

Really?

Most people hated Tommy. Hated his whiney voice and arrogant tone. Hated his high energy and short temper. They thought he was annoying and bratty. This was all true. They had to have seen it, right?

And they didn't wanna leave?

Huh.

The fae king sighed, leaning his head to the side sympathetically. "We gotta go. C'mon mates. Say goodbye."

"Bye" Wil said almost sarcastically, responding in unison with his brother's monotone "Seeya."

All the while, his father stared, eyes narrowing at the exchange.

The group filed out of the door after the painful screech of the hinges, waving their silent goodbyes.

As the door clicked into place, his father began walking up to Tommy with the calm demeanor that had never faded, only dropping completely when he became blindingly furious or poisonously kind. Tommy's eyes darted to meet his father's stare. The man stopped within a few feet of the boy.

"I heard you from the dining hall. I suspect their father did as well."

Tommy's breath hitched in his throat. He understood the implications. His eyes darted to the floor.

"Tommy, you gotta look at me sweetie." He cooed, patronizingly. It was a stark contrast to his father's demeanor from before. Perhaps his nerves had cooled from this morning? Unlikely. He was probably angrier if Tommy was honest with himself.

Tommy reluctantly looked up at his father with fear in his eyes.

"You're racking up quite the number of offenses Tommy. First you show up late for breakfast without the proper dress ware. Next you blame the maid, and now you're both too loud and incredibly rude with our guests?" The king tsked.

Tommy hung his head. "I'm sorry father. I got carried away."

"Now I have to discipline you. You know how much I hate that sweetie." Tommy let out a shaky breath.

"I'll give you a choice in your punishment this time around. Either I beat you until I feel you have learned a valuable lesson, or you will be confined to the tower until I deem it fit that you should return. What shall it be, hm Tommy?"

Tommy's eyes went wide with fear. "Please, don't. I'm sorry dad!" He pleaded.

"How many times do I have to tell you Tommy? It's father."

Chapter Text

Tommy took a labored breath, biting his cheek as he tried to decide quickly. He had resigned to his options, giving into the fact that those were his only choices in this matter, and his father would spare no breathing room. He didn't respond to pleading, remorse, or begging unless that was what he asked for.

This was the first time he was given an option. It was rather nerve wracking to have his fate in his own hands, even if the grip was limited. Maybe this was a test. Maybe his dad was in a good mood after negotiations. Did they go well?

Tommy knew he would come out of the first option bruised, scraped, and probably a few fractures if his hands or feet got caught in the crossfire. He'd been through this before. He didn't go out into public ever, and his studies required very little physical interaction aside from his fencing and marksman training. It would be a far more short term punishment to boot.

On the other end, he could avoid physical pain and instead isolate himself until his father let him back out of the prison like tower. There he wasn't allowed any interaction in the slightest aside from the small window overlooking the forest and the sliding panel in the iron door that allowed food and dirty dishes in and out. This was the far more long term punishment.

With a moment of consideration, he had decided as the impatient taps of his father's foot on the floor jostling him out of his thoughts. Tommy had come to a grim conclusion. His shoulders hiked up, and his tremors began once again.

"Father, I don't wanna go to the tower." Tommy mumbled out. There was a pause as the man's eyes narrowed, chin tilting upwards.

"Is that your final decision, Tommy?" He asked, confirming the choice.

Tommy nodded reluctantly. "Y-yeah." Tommy saw his father nod in response, remaining silent as his face remained blank. Suddenly, the man unclipped his own cloak from his shoulders, lifting it up and off as it floated to the ground beside him, revealing a flowy offwhite blouse. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing several scars which Tommy had always guessed we earned in battle.

The king's face was unapologetically void. Tommy could grapple with anger, sadness, hell! He'd even take joy! A single facial qu to read off of would be a godsent that his father would never afford.

Tommy was pulled from his thoughts as The king had placed a hand on his shoulder and held it tightly, winding up his other arm and sent it into Tommy's abdomen. All the air in his lungs was released sharply, and Tommy whined in pain as he nearly fell, still being held up by the shear force his father was gripping his shoulder with. Tommy didn't weigh that much, so it wouldn't have been hard to accomplish.

Suddenly, Tommy dropped to the floor, bruising his knees and kept himself from face planting by stopping his descent with his hands, scraping his palms. He gasped for the air he had suddenly lost. Tears trickled down his face, as he pleaded between gasps. "Pl- please dad!"

It never got easier, but this wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last.

"That was just one punch Tommy. You're truly pathetic, kid." The man stood, looming over Tommy, before reaching down and pulling Tommy up by the back of the cloak, choking the boy slightly. He had only raised him high enough to kick into the boy's ribs, releasing as the impact occured. Tommy slid across the smooth tiles, his new found oxygen escaping him once more. Tommy was left wheezing as he rolled from his side to his back, the corners of his vision blurring and tinting with black as he stared at the elegant white ceiling painted with the setting sun's blinding light.

The king approached him once more, lifting the boy up by the hood of the cloak once more as Tommy seemed to ragdoll.

"I've made my own decision. For every offense you committed today, you will get another blow dealt. sound fair?" the man almost mocked Tommy as his eyes lay pinned to the floor, trying to escape from this moment mentally.

"I'll take that as a yes. We'll tic off two, so you have seven left." The king pulled back his free hand and sent another punch to the boy's gut, sending the boy wrenching forward as he dropped the boy once more.

Tommy was forcefully dragged back to his situation, the words his father spoke finally setting in. He was given a countdown. All he had to do was wait it out. Tears still poured down his face, eyes tinged red and puffy.

Tommy lay on his side in front of the king, another kick sent straight for his diaphragm. As the blow connected, Tommy was once again thrown across the floor, writhing in pain as the man stepped closed. Tommy wrapped his arms around his body, pangs and aches becoming more apparent as the adrenaline slowly wore off. He could feel the sting of the bruises, scrapes, and rugburn he was receiving. A sharp pain in the front of his head began blossoming, a headache from all hell deciding now was the moment.

He took it back. This was too much for him. The overwhelming pain from each blow increased as the seconds flew by. This was nearly identical to every time before this, and yet it never hurt any less. Tommy grew numb to the freezing temperatures of the isolated Tower. He grew numb to the dull ache of hunger that knawed him inside and out. He grew numb to the cold stares and disgusted looks of the staff.

But he was never able to numb the pain his father inflicted. It always stung just a little more every time he thought about it.

"I'm sorry father! Please stop!" Tommy knew this wouldn't work, but he yelled anyway. His father simply let out a smile, chuckling a bit.

"Oh Tommy. You chose this, remember? We can't go back now." The man drawled on the last word a bit as he spoke ever so patronizingly.

Tommy blacked out a few moments later.

It was a good ten or so minutes before the feeling of movement or additional pain had died down, and he heard the footsteps of his father fade away, leaving him to rest on the numbingly cold entrance way tiles, blood trickling slowly from his hands, nose, and stomach.

Without a moments hesitation, Tommy promptly fell asleep.

----------

Tommy woke up early the next morning, a low groan involuntarily escaping Tommy as he couldn't manage to pull himself up.

In his stewper, Tommy had come to realize he was now in his bed, awake before the sun arose. Either one of the staff dragged his ass here, or his father did. He didn't truly give a shit as his entire body ached, except his face.

He had also realized a fair portion of his body had been bandaged, and his clothes were changed.

After a few more minutes of idle rest, Tommy managed to pull himself up from the soft bed, every inch of his body screaming in pain. Tommy let out a yelp as he nearly collapsed where he stood, catching himself on his nighstand.

Great start.

Tommy pushed himself up once more, wobbling slightly before regaining his balance. He stumbled forward to his wardrobe, before noticing a pre-chosen outfit laid to the side, a note laid atop the clothes. Tommy fumbled with the paper, almost dropping it before his split vision began to focus again on the incomprehensible cursive.

Dear Tommy,

I have received notice from the king of the fae that his children would like to visit you once again for whatever reason. I am away on business for the evening sadly, but don't think I will be leaving you without supervision. Punz will survey your actions while I am out, so don't act foolishly. The outfit below is meant to hide last night's little incident to avoid embarrassment on your part. Have fun, and behave.

Chapter Text

Tommy's stomach tied in knots at the words.

Little incident? It was an odd, almost gross way to phrase last night's events. Tommy pushed his recollection of the beating to the back of his mind, hoping to forget it entirely.

Besides, there was something much more important that needed to be dealt with first, though it was almost as hard for the boy to fully digest in his mind.

The two boys wanted to come back just to see him? Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his breathing shallow as the paper trembled in his hands.

They wanted to see him again.

Tommy couldn't comprehend this. Everyone hated him from what he could tell. The little interaction he had ever had with the citizens when they would come to the palace was disgust and anger that rivaled those of the staff. The only one who was even slightly positive in demeanor with Tommy was his father, and even that seemed strained or rehearsed.

Tommy could lament for hours over what the note implied, but he had shit to do. He still had to get ready.

Tommy dropped the note lazily aside the neat pile of clothes his father had picked for him. A soft yellowish green bow blouse with tight buttoned cuffs at the wrists, lay atop a pair of light brown high waisted dress pants, and set below was a deep mahogany coloured chukka boots sat next to them patiently. Of course, his large green cloak lay beside everything, being cleaned of the possible blood and scuff marks that should have littered the fabric. His father was even cordial enough to leave him a pair of grey leather gloves to conceal the scrapes and bruises.

Tommy stared at the ensemble with hesitance. He liked more loose fitting clothing that allowed more movement, but this was what he was expected to wear, so he would. The threat of Punz watching over him was a silent reminder of what was expected of him.

With much resistance by his aching limbs, he was able to change into the outfit, his scrapes and bruises stinging and panging as tears stung his eyes once more. Tommy violently wiped them away as he stared himself down in the mirror beside his wardrobe. His father was right. Not a single bandage, blemish, or open wound showed through, which was relieving. All that was left was the dark circles beneath his eyes to show how rough the night had been, but that could be chalked up to lack of sleep.

With that, Tommy strained himself to reach up and grab the brush that was placed atop the tall wardrobe again, wincing as his hand grabbed the brush and cursing under his breath. It wasn't as bad with the fabric or the paper, but solid objects would be an issue. Tommy noted this for future reference.

With much resistance and unwarranted pain from his palms, he managed to straighten out his hair. As he placed the brush back on the table, he heard an obnoxious knock at the door.

"Your majesty, it is time to eat breakfast." The voice of his most despised staff member called, and Tommy let out a deep sigh that he had woken before she had gotten him up. It appeared she was doing this on purpose. God damnit.

He walked slowly to the door, prying it open to look the women dead in the eye with unfiltered rage. She blinked in surprise. "Oh- you're up."

"Yeah. No thanks to you. You may take your leave." Tommy spoke bitterly.

"But I simply must escort you to the dining hall-"

"I can walk on my own, Karen. Go take care of something else would yah?"

Karen paused in shock, before she raised a brow, almost smirking.

If it wasn't set in stone before, it was practically official by now. Tommy hated this bastard more than anyone he knew. Maybe he was lashing out. Maybe she was just that insufferable. Either way, he wanted her to keel over and die.

"Y'know, we all heard last night. I know it'll be a struggle to walk for a while. Maybe I could lend my services-" Tommy was in a rather interruptive mood this morning. He felt rather petty.

"Fuck off. I can walk on my own, thank you very much." He said, shoving past her as he pulled his door closed with a metallic click. Admittedly, a pang emitted from from his shoulder due to the aggressive contact, but it was worth it to hear the women scoff in surprise.

It was the little victories. Tommy smiled a bit as his cloak floated behind him as the wind pushed it up slightly.

He cascaded down the steps, clinging to the rail for support to ensure he did not tumble. He sluggishly walked down the hall to the dining room, not stopping to look into the entrance way.

As promised, he saw Punz already seated in front of a plate, half eaten muffin in hand and scattered bits of eggs that had looked for the majority, eaten. Across the table sat an untouched plate of eggs, sausage, and toast. Punz looked up, not quite smiling but it looked rather close to it. He waved, and placed his muffin on his plate.

"Morning Tommy. Glad to see you're ready." A pause halted Tommy as he stood in the doorway.

"Your dad told me what happened. Glad to see you learned your mistake. Your dad is kinda scary." He said in a light hearted tone, glancing to the side as if lamenting, before noticing the boy's tremors.

There was another moment of silence from the boy as he stared wide eyed. Punz rolled his eyes, waving the kid over. "If you're not gonna say anything, just get your chair and eat." The man said in annoyance.

Tommy moved towards the chair, pulling it out and sitting back down. "M'sorry Punz." Was all he said before beginning to eat as he fumbled the fork in his hands.

Punz gave no response, finishing his food and taking his leave elsewhere.

Tommy was left alone again, as per usual. Honestly, he ate alone the majority of the time. He let out a deep sigh, slumping a bit in his chair as his ribs cried out in pain, littered with bruises and broken skin that had scabbed over.

'They should be here in a few hours' he thought to himself as he took another bite.

Fuuuunnnn...

----------

Tommy had finished his food, and left the room, choosing to wait in the entrance way as he sat in a chair, eyeing the door. Eventually, Tommy had succumb to his fatigue and had fallen asleep, which would have been nice if his pain receptors would have just fucked off for ten minutes. No matter what he did he was in pain, so he just resigned to it and tried to focus elsewhere until he finally dozed off.

The hours flew by during his dreamless in an instant as he was awoken by his shoulder being shaken lightly. Tommy looked up to the perpetrator, finding it was Punz. Tommy's eyes were squinted at the sting of the light against his retinas. He groggily sat up, yawning as he did so.

"Morning sleeping beauty. He's almost here."

Tommy grumbled, yawning again as he ruffled his hair, standing wobbly as he pushed himself out of the chair. Punz didn't attempt to help. Tommy didn't need it anyway.

As he stood, Tommy had a sudden realisation. "Why did you just say 'he'? Aren't both of the princes arriving?" Punz shook his head.

"Nope. One of em had business elsewhere he had to take care of. Sorry kid."

"M'not a kid you bitch."

"Tommy, drop it."

"And what if I don't?"

"I'll tell your dad. That's what."

Tommy reluctantly stopped, grumbling a little as he looked to the floor.

"What was that?" Punz asked in a mocking tone.

"Sorry." Tommy whispered a little louder.

"Good."

Three solemn knocks came to the door, and with a screech of the hinges that really needed to be fucking oiled, Tommy watched as the brunette entered the room.

Tommy held out a hand for a handshake, wincing as the gesture was returned due to the bruises still being very apparent.

Wil didn't seem to notice, or maybe he did and just didn't say anything.

"It's nice seeing you once again Theseus."

"The feeling is mutual." Tommy said, releasing the handshake.

"So, how has your day been?" Wil asked, looking slightly tensed as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants.

"It was fine. How are you and your family?"

"Philza, The Blade, and myself are wonderful. It appears negotiations went well."

"Yeah. Maybe."

It seemed that Punz had grown bored of surveying the exchange, as he exited the room and went up the stairs. Tommy really didn't care what the man did in all honesty.

Wilbur seemed a bit relieved as the man walked away, his breaths slightly less shallow.

"Hey, Theseus. Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, dickhead." Tommy said, letting out a chuckle. Wil simply sighed exasperatedly, shaking his head.

"Okay. Well, can I?" Wil asked again.

"Sure. What's up?" Tommy asked, tilting his head a bit.

"Why do you look like you're on the cusp of death?" He asked. It would've been funny if his tone wasn't so serious.

"I- I'm just tired mate. I'm fine." Tommy said, waving his hand as if to blow the concern away with a gust of wind.

Wil could tell it was a lie. Wilbur knew.

He could sense it.

"Okay. If you say so."

Chapter Text

"C'mon dad!" Wilbur whined without shame, Techno simply sitting on the comfortable chair beside the boy.

"Mate. You know Dream won't agree to that." Phil responded, exasperated by his son's persistance.

"We've both heard the rumors. The kid has to be lonely!" Wilbur reasoned, crossing his arms as he narrowed his eyes.

Phil groaned a bit, slouching his posture.

"Please! Just try." The brunette pleaded.

With a heavy sigh, and a sympathetic gaze, Phil seemed to give in. "Fuck, mate. Fine."

Wilbur pumped his fist into the air as he leaped, overjoyed by his victory.

----------

A day or two had passed now with no word. Wilbur was getting antsy. The yearly negotiations were in a few days time, and Phil hadn't told either of the boys anything. That was until Wilbur, Techno, and their dad sat for their breakfast.

It had taken a few minutes for the group to be firmly sat in place at the ornate table, lined with cloth and flowers that never seemed to wilt.

A clink of silverware being set down at the head of the table halted Wilbur's actions or thoughts, eyes dsrting up to his father as they bathed in the lights of the stained glass windows.

"I've got good news, boys."

Wilbur stared up curiously as he half heartedly pushed his food around his plate with his fork. Techno was scarfing the meal down as fast as possible, as he always did regardless of any outside influences.

"What's up dad?" Wilbur spoke nonchalantly to his father.

"He said yes."

"Eh?" Techno said, confused to the context. Of course he wasn't paying attention. God damnit. Was his brother that oblivious? Wilbur would just ignore it for now.

Wilbur almost jumped out of his seat. "Dad, are you fuckin serious?" He shouted, his palms landing loudly onto the table, shaking the furniture with a loud thud.

"Bruh. Wilbur, calm down." Techno spoke, flatly.

Phil simply shook his head up and down. "Yes Wilbur. I'm serious."

Wilbur's eyes brightened from a deep umber to a bright and shining gold. "Fuck yeah!" Wilbur was in pure joy, absolutely delighted at the news.

----------

Wilbur had been to the castle many times before, showing up for the bi-annual negotiations with his father and brother. This was the first time he was going alone.

He had heard of the little prince near 13 years ago, learning of the boy a few months after his birth.

He pleaded with his father to permit a visit, but Dream had always refused. Wilbur always thought he was an overprotective bastard. Techno seemed to agree through a series of curt nods and simple little gestures. Their previous visit seemed to confirm this belief. The child seemed energetic and full of life. He seemed brash and positive. Theseus was sheltered, sure, but he was practically buzzing. He seemed to not have a single care in the world.

Apparently, Wilbur was not as perceptive as he believed himself to be. A shockingly large blow to the ego.

He realized his oversight the second he laid eyes on the boy, almost a complete 180° from the endlessly energetic boy he had met earlier.

Theseus looked…

defeated

All life seemed to be drained from him, pale as a ghost and large dark circles beneath his tired and dull eyes. His posture slumped. Theseus looked dead on his feet, though the way he was dressed and groomed was of jarring contrast.

Theseus winced in pain at small gentle touches. He had almost fallen over more times than Wilbur was comfortable with. Theseus looked pained by simple movements, and yet, that wasn't what broke him.

The fae know when people lie. They always have and always will. Theseus didn't know that.

Theseus lied at the simplest and most crucial question, blaming his poor state on being tired.

Within the blink of an eye, Wilbur's eyes had faded from a beautiful swirling gold to a dark umber, though his face remained unchanged. Theseus seemed to flinch at this, and Wilbur had realized the issue. He had no true control of it. The room would just get a little little lighter when his mood was positive, or darker if it was negative.

"Oh- sorry kid. They just do that sometimes." He said, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

Theseus visibly untensed, but only slightly. "Okay."

There was an audible pause that left both boys very unsettled.

"Aren't you going to complain that you're not a kid?" Wilbur asked with a slight chuckle. Theseus seemed to stumble back as if he didn't realize anything was said.

"Oh, yeah."

Lord so help Wil. If he saw the king ever again he was a dead man.

----------

"Theseus?" Wilbur questioned with his tone and facial expression alone. It had been an hour or so since then, and Wilbur had finally mentally prepared himself for the conversation ahead of them.

"What?" Theseus replied tiredly, sitting beside Wil on a large leather couch in a lounge area near the library.

"I know this is a weird thing to be ask, especially from a stranger, basically, but…" Wilbur said, taking a deep breath.

"Is your dad nice to you?" He asked, hoping desperately for a truthful answer. Praying to whatever god was out there that it was a positive response.

"W- what? Why would you ask that you dickhead?" Theseus seemed to stumble through his thoughts.

"He just…" Wilbur paused again, trying to think over his words properly. "He doesn't strike me as a great parent." Wilbur said, remaining as vague as possible.

"Well, it's a stupid fuckin question. Of course he's nice to me." Theseus said in an almost distressed tone.

"Theseus, I know when anyone lies to me. You're no exception."

"I'm- what? I'm not lying!"

Wilbur paused for a moment, leaning his head to the side as he looked away for a moment. "Okay…" he paused once more to continue to think over his words carefully. "Theseus, I want you to know something." He looked back to the boy, smiling sympathetically.

"Well, spit it out then, Wil. We don't have all day." The boy spat out, being more brash then previously. He was getting his bark back at the very least. Whatever Dream did to him, Theseus managed to recover quickly. Mentally, that is. He seemed to reel everytime he made any kind of movement. Shallow breaths were a hallmark of tonight as he made any attempt at activity.

"Well, you know how you can't give me your real name. Do you know why that is?"

"Not really. Wasn't s'posed to, so I didn't."

"Well, Names, even nicknames give the fae power over others to call to them, influence over your behavior, and sometimes complete control over them, though to a much lesser extent when it's a nickname." He paused, trying to gauge whether or not the man was taking in the information. It seemed like he was taking it well, nodding every so often.

"That's fuckin scary. Are you…" a silent question insinuated by the mere pause.

"No. That's not my intention."

"Okay, but you better watch yourself, Wil. I won't hesitate to kill your old ass." Theseus said, wagging his finger at the other boy.

Wilbur burst into laughter. "Sure kid. What I was tryna say, was that you have my nickname."

"So? What good does the name of a bald headed, fae, bitch boy do me?" With every adjective he bobbed his head, locking eyes with Wil.

"Excuse me! Maybe I won't tell you-" Wilbur began to stand up to leave.

"Wait! I'm sorry, just- what were you gonna say?" Theseus said, grasping loosely at Wilbur's hand as they both stood.

Wilbur sighed. "You hold the power to call me whenever you need me. You just need to say my name and I'll be right here in an instant. Understood?"

Theseus nodded hesitantly. "Uh- yeah. I think."

"Good. Don't be afraid to call." And in the blink of an eye, Wilbur was gone.

And Tommy was alone again, still grasping at air.

God damnit.

----------

Tommy blinked in disbelief, muttering curses under his breath. He looked like an idiot.

Well, it was lucky for him that he was alone, sighing as he turned around.

Oh fuck- Punz was right there.

Tommy nearly jumped eight feet in the air, arms flailing. "Jesus fucking Christ Punz!" He yelled, taking a deep breath. Punz raised a brow, a simple smirk upon his face.

"What were you two talking about Tommy?"

Chapter Text

Tommy tripped over his words. He hated being caught off guard. His hands shook as he coughed to clear the non-existent block in the back of his throat. He honestly wanted to answer, but it felt like all the wind had been knocked from him. Or maybe something was being shoved down his throat. His choked on the intense silence.

"What kid? Cats got your tongue?" Punz spoke with a menacing grin. It looked like he was just waiting for Tommy's every misstep. Sometimes, the man could be calm and collected. During others, the man adopted a demeanor more akin to his father. Coy and playful with a sinister undertone. Tommy felt patronized, but couldn't do much more than answer, else he'd have hell to pay. He really couldn't talk back. He couldn't take another one of his father's sadistic punishments back to back.

"N- No!" Tommy yelped, the sound of his shallow breaths echoing through the hall as he desperately clenched his fists to hold the tremors at bay that everyone seemed to despise. It was a sign of weakness that his father thought was reprehensible. All forms of weakness were seen that way, but Tommy's tremors had been so blatantly obvious to the king, that it seemed to be taken as a personal offense that he would dare waver or tremble in his majesty's presence.

"Spit it out kid. What was Prince Wil so interested in informing you?" He asked again, leaning forward and tapping his foot against the stone floor with an anxiety inducing rhythm.

Tommy could feel his heart beat in his throat. It was an odd sensation, but he choked it back in favor of answering the imposing man's question.

"He was just telling me how the rules of the fae worked." He said, his eyes still ever so wide in terror, but his tremors had quelled for the moment to his relief. It wasn't a complete lie. He was elaborating how the name rule affected him and others, and to specifically call Wil if he needed help. Punz didn't need to know that though.

Punz seemed only slightly satisfied by the answer, furrowing his brow before he simply shook his head and carried forward. As the taller man turned to exit the room, he halted for a moment as he was struck with an epiphany. He lifted his head and turned to look over his shoulder to view Tommy.

"By the way, you're one lucky bastard. You know that?" He paused for a moment, but before Tommy could answer, Punz interrupted him, seemingly to elaborate. "Your father's trip got extended for whatever reason. I didn't get any specific reason, but he's not said to return for a few days or so. He estimated about Wednesday to Friday next week." Tommy let out an indignant sigh.

And with that, Punz turned heel and left the room without another word.

Despite all the shit his father had put him through with all the constant beatings and near constant emotional assaults, he still got lonely whenever his father left for long periods of time. At one point, Dream had left for a month and a half to de-escalate a situation in Snowchester over an independence issue of some sort that had turned into some kind of nuclear threat.

Tommy didn't know all the details, but not for lack of trying. Despite his attempts at studying his father's foreign diplomatic ventures, it was near impossible to uncover any information outside of those confines. His father kept him far away from that sort of thing, despite Tommy being the one and only heir to the throne. He couldn't question further, even if he wanted to. His father would have had his head.

Tommy began his labored journey up the stairs, a yawn fatigued him as he went up. He could feel a pang through his ribs as his diaphragm expanded too far into their vicinity. He winced, clutching his side and tears clung to his lashes. Tommy furiously wiped them away with his free hand as he crept up to his bedroom slightly down the hall.

It wasn't that late in the day. In fact, it was hours before dinner would even be served, but Tommy didn't give a shit. He just wanted to rest. He had every right to do so. His entire body had been a punching bag for who knows how long the night before. He deserved more than a measly eight hours.

He shoved through the door, bursting in by shoving it with his relatively intact shoulder. He still felt a pang throughout his whole arm and chest despite the effort to avoid it, but he would live. As he entered the room, he took a deep inhale of the freezing cold air, wincing at the pain in the back of his throat as he did so.

Why was it so incredibly cold in his room? He would never know why. It was always cold in the palace no matter what season, whether it be spring, summer, autumn, or winter. They didn't even use the ornate fireplace. It was more of a prop than anything. Baron and empty. Ignored and lonely. Useless.

Tommy winced at the thought, shaking his head to calm himself down as he belly flopped onto his soft bed. He was too fatigued to try and remove his day clothes, so he simply kicked his shoes off and wiggled until he was fully on the bed. He groaned into his pillow, and then rolled onto his side, looking out the window.

A fairly bright sunset, clouds a faint orange to complement the neon orange sky, illuminated by the red tinted sun. The kingdom was on the coast, so Tommy had a slim view of the dusk coloured ocean, blocked by the several houses and buildings that neighbored their ports and docks.

He barely noticed as his eyes faltered, shutting slowly as he passed onto sleep. With a heavy sigh, his tiredness overtook him, and he succumbed to his fatigue.

Guess he wasn't going to attend dinner. What a shame.

----------

Tommy was jarred awake by a scream. His eyes stretched wide as he took in fast heavy breaths, hyperventilating. His retnas stung from the sudden input of bright light, awakening to a scene similar to what he had left off from. As he collected his scattered thoughts, he finally realized. The scream was his own.

His recollection of his dream, or rather, nightmare was fuzzy at best. He could only remember one thing. His father. It wasn't uncommon. The thought that his father was plauging his long forgotten nightmares barely phased him anymore. The real deal was much more scary anyway.

He felt something cold creeping down his cheeks, and when he went to wipe it away, he was met with streaks of tears. He wiped them away furiously as he evened out his breathing to calm his adrenaline rush. "Fucking shit." He muttered under his breath. He couldn't dwell on this for too long, else he was late to start the day. Punz was mercilous, and would inform his da-

Father

About all his mistakes and wrongdoings while he was off. If he was to faulter in his daily routine while his father was away, the man would surely raise hell. He pushed himself off his bed, meeting the frigid ground with a shiver as he stood. He hated the cold.

He walked towards his wardrobe, grabbing some basic daily clothing that was still too regal looking for his taste. He'd wear the outfit anyway. While he was reclothing himself, his thoughts drifted to what he assumed the day's activities would be. Since there wasn't any planned visits or duties to attend to, he was likely going to be committed to studying for his soon to be royal duties for when he replaced his father.

He would probably attend breakfast first, or just eat it in his bedroom while he began his studies. Multitasking for the win. That was probably gonna be it. A boring day after the eventful two he had was more than welcome. He prefered to do monotonous tasks anyway. It was much less stressful. Especially when he was in this much pain. The stings and sharp pangs rang continued even after he had an entire day to recover.

Welp, it was time to get started.

Chapter Text

My mental health took a massive nose dive due to personal issues and such, so I won't be doing much of anything. Sorry, but I'm going on hiatus rn and I'll be back between a week and 2 months depending. I'll get the next chapter for Monday out this week, but after that the hiatus applies. Love you guys and I'm sorry about this, but I got shit to do and emotional stability to re-establish.