Chapter Text
Weak sunlight streams into the throne room through the stained glass windows, bouncing off of the white marble floors in dazzling rainbow patterns. As the sun wakes up, so do the birds, starting their songs outside the castle windows. A particularly loud finch perches on the windowsill, and Tommy jolts awake at the sound. Something in his blood sings while waking up with the birds, but Tommy squashes it down and sits up warily, peeking from his soft fur blankets out into the room.
The bird chirps, and Tommy quickly spots it, smiling softly to himself. The soft yellow wings of the bird are reminiscent of his own, although he is still growing out his gray down-feathers. The finch hops once, twice, three times, before letting its song lose again. Tommy brightens immediately, trying his best to mimic the song back to the bird. The notes echo loudly off of the marble and Tommy freezes, listening to see if anyone would come reprimand him for the noise.
Tommy holds his breath for five beats, then relaxes when none of the guards come busting through the doors. It’s probably too early for patrols to start, but light footsteps can be heard in the main hall. Likely the King’s personal guard, Sapnap, making his way to the King’s quarters. Tommy snorts, picturing Sapnap following the King everywhere like a heavily armed puppy. Honestly, Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever really seen the King without Sapnap, at least during the day. Punz usually takes the night shift, and well… Let’s just say Tommy likes Sapnap better.
Bones pop into place as Tommy stretches lazily, wincing at the pain in his neck from sleeping wrong. Sleeping without a pillow can do this sometimes, but Tommy isn’t too worried. His little nest of furs on the cage floor is comfortable enough, and he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful for what he’s been given. Tommy shuffles the blankets around until he can get his wings out from under them, carefully slipping them between the bars so he can unfurl them to their full span. When his morning stretches are done, he sits and waits. After all, if dawn has arrived, the castle’s servants aren’t far behind. One quiet moment passes, then another, before the servants door in the far corner of the room pops open. Tommy’s head swivels to look, head feathers fluffing when he recognizes the tall man moving toward him.
“Tommy!” Foolish grins, waving to Tommy, and nearly spills the cup of water on the tray he is carrying. Tommy almost smiles, then notices he doesn’t recognize the person beside Foolish, and his feathers puff up to make him seem more intimidating to the stranger. The stranger just looks bored, if Tommy's being honest, like they’d rather be anywhere else. Tommy squints at them suspiciously. They are much shorter than Foolish, and maybe even Tommy himself, with smooth dark skin and only their eyes, and a small puff of white hair peeking out from a mask. Tommy doesn’t trust them, so he scoots back as they approach, his wings bristling as he makes contact with the bars of his cage.
“Oh!” Foolish pauses, blinking, as if just remembering the third person in the room. “This is Ponk, the new healer. Sapnap said you had a sore throat, and well… The festival is soon, we can’t have you being sick!” Foolish puts a hand on Ponk’s shoulder, and they barely react.
Tommy relaxes at the introduction, smoothing his feathers back down. That makes sense. The King would hate it if he was on vocal rest during a party. What would Tommy do then? If he was unable to complete his purpose of being in the castle, what was he good for? Tommy shakes his head, dispersing the thoughts before they can stray somewhere darker.
Ponk tilts their head at Tommy, studying him for a moment. Then, their flash gold. It sends a warm, rippling, feeling through Tommy, reminiscent of sunshine. Tommy holds back an excited chirp at the display of magic, his eyes widening.
“You’ve got a cold.” Tommy blinks, frowning at Ponk’s accent. Where could it be from? It’s definitely not native Essempi, but it’s not from L’manburg either, which he hears around the castle sometimes. Ponk leaves him to wonder, as they begin to rummage through a small bag they’ve brought with them.
“Do you have any other symptoms? Cough? Congestion?” Tommy blinks owlishly at Ponk, and they sigh.
“Do you talk ?” Ponk sounds frustrated, sending a spike of fear rushing through Tommy’s chest. His lungs squeeze and deflate, making him choke. Did he miss an order? The King usually forbids Tommy from speaking unless it is for guests. Did… did he forget about an event? Or… Or is Ponk trying to trick him into speaking, just so he can be punished?
Tommy begins to spiral, chest heaving as he tries to breathe. He feels like he's going to die, spots dancing in his vision from lack of oxygen. Foolish startles at this, his mouth moving, but Tommy can’t hear him over the blood rushing in his ears. His heart crashes against his ribcage, and for a moment, Tommy is worried that it’s going to get bruised. He’s barely aware as the door to the cage swings open, Foolish appearing in his vision.
“Tommy?” The use of his name snaps Tommy out of his panic, and he forces himself to meet Foolish’s eyes, blinking away tears. Tommy studies his eyes, taking in every detail. They're less yellowy than the Kings. The King's eyes are like fresh growing ferns, where Foolish's are more like emeralds.
“You’re allowed to speak to Ponk, so they can do their job.” Usually Tommy wouldn’t trust anyone but the King giving him authorization, but he thinks Foolish is trustworthy. He isn’t even technically a servant. He just… enjoys doing servant work, by choice , when he isn’t needed for more important kingdom matters. Tommy knows he designed the castle, and even the main city. He’s an… Art-tech… Or something like that. He is also like a brother to the King, so the small, scared part of Tommy dissolves at the allowance.
“Okay.” Tommy’s voice is barely over a whisper, and raspy from his cold, but Foolish grins again. Tommy is suddenly struck with the thought that his gold skin is reminiscent of the bars that make up his cage. They both shine with nearly the same amount of radiance, and Tommy briefly wonders if someone polishes Foolish like Tubbo does with the cage. Tommy likes Tubbo, as he is around the same age, and plays games with him whenever he has to work in the throne room. Tubbo even told him that he was a prince once, before L’manburg was absorbed into Essempi. Tommy’s not sure if he believes him, because… shouldn’t princes be more… regal, then Tubbo is?
“So, any more symptoms?” Ponk’s voice breaks Tommy out of his thoughts, and he assesses himself for a moment.
“I’ve got a headache.” Ponk just nods before crouching in front of the open cage door. “I think… I think my nose is stuffy too.”
…
Approximately twenty minutes later, Ponk is done with Tommy, leaving him with a small vial of shimmering pink potion to drink after he’s had his breakfast. Tommy's heard of potions before, but their previous healer never gave him any. The old man only made those for emergencies, and Tommy didn't think this was an emergency, so maybe Ponk was different. As soon as they’ve handed the vial over Ponk leaves, excusing themselves to do more… doctor things...Tommy supposes.
Foolish lingers for a bit longer, allowing Tommy to slip off to the bathroom, a guard stationed outside, to get ready for the day. While Tommy is gone, Foolish gathers the blankets from the floor, tucking them under an arm, and leaves a breakfast of seed cakes and fruit for Tommy, as well as a glass of water. He’s gone by the time Tommy has washed and dressed himself, his nightclothes swapped out for a billowy white shirt, tailored to fit Tommy’s wings, and slacks.
A guard ushers Tommy back into the cage and he goes willingly, knowing the routine by now. After breakfast George will come get him for outside time, and then he goes to the council room with the King. Sometimes Sapnap lets Tommy braid flowers into his hair, and Tommy preens at the thought, already making a mental checklist of flowers to pick from the garden.
Tommy is mostly done with his breakfast when George wanders in, the guards hair mussed up like he had just rolled out of bed. Knowing George, he probably did . George sleeps more than anyone Tommy knows, aside from the cat that lives in the castle gardens, always dozing in patches of sunlight. The King named her Patches because of that, on one of the few times he had accompanied Tommy to the gardens.
“Morning Tommy.” George yawns, slinging his bow over his shoulder in order to stretch. Tommy just smiles politely, finishing the fruit in his bowl before setting it aside and drinking the vial Ponk left. It fizzles on his tongue in a strange way, and tastes vaguely of grapefruit. Tommy immediately feels a difference, his head clearing of the sick fog he’d been stuck with the past few days. George shuffles over and the cage is unlocked again, Tommy springing out, full of newfound energy. He bounces on the balls of his feet, wings twitching impatiently.
“Yeah yeah, lets go.” George sighs, gesturing for Tommy to follow him as he makes his way toward the castle gardens. Today is going to be a good day!