Chapter Text
Wind gently blew through short chestnut brown hair as a young prince leaned against the open window sill. Sighing happily, the young prince watched as the bees fly about lazily, avoiding the flowers that still had little sprinkles of snow on them.
The snow never really went away in his kingdom, even during spring and summer. There was much less of it during the warmer months but prince Tubbo has learned that it never seems to want to leave fully, always leaving a bit of itself from the years prior. Maybe this was a metaphor for people who can leave and come back changed but there will always be a part of them from when you saw them last, good or bad. It probably wasn't, but Tubbo had an imagination and plenty of time on his hands to think.
He didn't go outside much, not for other people at least. His people both loved and hated him. The younger boys his age wanted to play with him until they realized that he was their prince, above them. It stung at first but he grew used to it, preferred it now. Makes it easier to do what he wants to do. Sometimes he wished for a friend though, it got a bit boring staying inside all the time, alone. The King always seemed to be in a meeting and none of the young worker boys treated him normally. He was always first the Prince, and Tubbo the boy second.
Perhaps that's why he made friends with the bugs outside in his garden. Sitting, watching the bees fly by flower after flower until they find the one they wanted. Tricking ladybugs into walking onto his hands and watching them walk around his palm until they flew away. The bugs never judged him, always content being around him. The bugs in his garden were Prince Tubbo's only friends for so long.
He particularly liked the bees. One time, some worker ladies came out to watch him and as they put fresh flowers into his hair, bees flew around his head. The ladies laughed as Tubbo tried to stay as still as possible, not out of fear but to not disturb the bees. When they eventually stopped coming, he took the flowers out and the ladies took him inside again, to wash up. Tubbo could never forget that day; gentle buzzing, sweet smells, hushed whispers and easy laughter. It was the only day Tubbo felt at home in his castle.
"Toby!" He cringed at the name, peeling himself out of his head and away from the window towards his father's voice.
"Prince Toby, hurry up!" The King, his father, wasn't intentionally using the name to hurt Tubbo, it was similar enough to his preferred name that he supposed his father just forgot. They still felt hurt, but he didn't mind for now. Everyone else in the Kingdom called him Tubbo so he could deal with it if it was just the King.
"I'm coming dad! Don't worry!" They called back, hopping down from the window bench. He didn't have a clue what his dad needed from him, the two rarely spoke seeing as Tubbo was too young to understand much of what was going on in the world. He tried but he was only six, what could he do? He tried but most officials do not care for children being in the discussion room.
"Meet me in the grand hall!" Tubbo barely heard what the King had said; already leaving before he could see his child. They sighed, nodding to themself more than anything.
He called for two maids to come and help him pick out a good enough outfit for whatever his father needed him for. He found out that there were to be visitors in a month's time. After hearing this news, he was practically bouncing in joy. Finally, new people! Maybe there would be a prince his age and he could make a friend! His excitement had the maids laughing fondly as they combed his messy hair, untangling it from around his horns.
When he was dismissed, he all but ran to the grand hall. His excitement was clear on his face as he shoved the door open, looking for his father on his throne.
"Ah, Toby! My son, my Prince, come sit with me. Leave those maids outside, we have things to discuss." Tubbo sighed and looked back to the women who had accompanied him. They smiled softly down at him and waved goodbyes, knowing that the young Prince's enthusiasm had been dulled simply by his father's tone.
Tubbo slowly and cautiously made their way to his own, slightly smaller, throne. It was the Queen's throne but she has long since passed and so, instead of getting rid of it, they made it Tubbo's. The young, five year old prince sat on a throne not even his and a throne he knew never would be.
"So, how are you?" The King tried, breaking the heavy silence that had settled around the pair. It wasn't that Tubbo was necessarily scared of his father, more so uneasy; nervous. The two spent very little time together so they were almost strangers. It was neither of their faults, it just so happened they never got to talk.
"Fine. I was just watching the bugs outside my window," Their voice was small, barely above a whisper. They heard the King sigh next to him and the rustling as he stood. Next thing Tubbo saw was his father knelt before him, hands on his own knees, a sad smile on his face when the prince wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Would you like it better if we went out to the garden Toby? We could just relax for a little while, watch the bees." The two shared a smile as the prince perked up at the mention of the small pollinators. "Yeah, I heard that they're your favorite from one of the maids one morning before I went to a meeting. Months ago I'm sure, but I remember that little fact for sure."
The young boy nodded; for once he got to actually spend time with the King outside of twenty minutes of dinner time. It would be awkward, they both knew that, but it was a starting point.
As the two walked towards the garden exit, a few guards had started to trail behind them, as if worried about the other doing something. Tubbo chalked it up to nothing but he could feel the King's annoyance at the pestering. A simple glance towards his face tells them they're right about the King's distress.
"Dad, do the men have to come with us? They're scary," Prince Tubbo whispered shakily, tugging gently on his fathers sleeve. The King glances down and smiles briefly before scooping the Prince into his arms and turning to the Guards.
"Guards, the Prince is weary of your presence. Leave us be while we talk, we will only be in the garden." The guards stood stiff, sparing a quick glance towards one another before they left to return to their rightful spots. Sharing a small smile, the two turned back to continue on with their trip to the garden.
The King sat his son down on a bench before sitting himself next. Bees flew by blissfully unaware of the humans sat so close that watch in amazement and wonder. The small family sat in silence for mere minutes before the King cleared his throat to gain his son's attention.
"So, Toby, you may have heard the news." He starts, looking anywhere but his son. "We have guests coming and I want you to know that while they may be scary, I want you to meet them."
"How would they be scary?"
"They're from The End Dimension."
"Oh," Hands wetly clung to each other while the Prince looked down to his swinging feet.
The End Dimension; a whole new dimension. He had no clue how they would behave, look, or act. He didn't know if he could be friends with their prince if he was from another dimension. He didn't even know if there would be a prince he could talk to.
"Father?" The King made a noise of acknowledgement, glancing down. "Would there be a prince my age to speak to? I'm awfully lonely."
"Well, I believe they do. Their child would be roughly your age, maybe a bit older."
"Well I can talk to someone older, I do that with the nice Lady Maids!"
The King grimaced and nodded. Silence fell upon them once again for minutes that the Prince used to watch the bees and daydream of a new friend. The King sighed, elbows fell heavily to knees just as hands cupped his face. The Prince placed a worried hand to his father's shoulder, asking if there was a problem.
"These people could be potentially dangerous, they aren't like us Toby. I do not think it would be wise for you to talk to their child if they bring one."
"But father, I never have a friend! That's unfair!" The Prince protested tearily. His father is already ruining his chance to make friends yet again.
"These are Endermen Toby! You would think you would have some idea of what they are capable of seeing as all you do is spend your lonely days reading!"
The Prince retracted his hand quickly, as if he was burned. Salty tears streaked down his pale face faster than he would have liked. The King, calmed down upon looking at his son, tried to soothe him, apologizing.
"You are such a horrible dad!" The young Prince shouted, closing his eyes and curling into a ball between the arm and back of the bench; as far away from his father as possible.
"I, I just want you to be safe Toby. We don't know much other than their hostility and lack of control from encounters here in the overworld!"
"Then why are they coming here!? What is the purpose!?"
The King was silent, knowing that his fear, although truthfully is fair, was unneeded.
"Is there no answer you can give me?" The Prince cried. His father shook his head, sighing.
"They come to talk of peace; an alliance of sorts." The King admitted softly.
"Then why!? Why do you want me to be alone?!"
The King has no response, simply standing up and turning his back to his son.
"They will be here in three days. You will be called to the front hall to greet our guests with me and if there is a child close to your age, you may interact as you wish. You are such a stubborn child so do not come crying to me if you get your feelings hurt; I will give no sympathy." The King then briskly made his exit, leaving his child alone on the bench.
The Prince sat there in silence, now cold as the anger seeped out of his body. Why did his father have to be this way; all he asked was a simple question.
"Maybe he'll be nicer when the guests get here. He wouldn't want to look like a bad dad in front of guests." He pondered aloud, desperately clinging to his now frigid body as the wind picked up.
Snow flies by with leaves mixed in, getting stuck in messy, unkempt hair. Bugs fluttered haphazardly as wind set them off course. Prince Tubbo sat, curled into himself, in the farthest corner of the bench from where his father had sat, unmoving.
It was minutes before two of the maids came rushing out with a warm jacket to get him, bundled up in nice furs and warm shoes themselves. They fussed over him but he didn't react, too cold and sad to do or say much else but mumbled one word responses.
He was ushered inside to warm up, the ladies desperately trying to get him under covers in his bed or to eat some warm soup. He kept kicking the blankets off and refused to eat, all too warm for him.
"Please just," The Prince spoke finally. "Leave the soup and let me be. It's all too hot and I wish to be alone."
The maids shared a look of concern but they relented and left him to himself. Once gone, he laid atop his blankets while he blankly stared at his ceiling, tracing imaginary patterns with his eyes.
"Three days," He mumbled, beginning to feel tired from the warmth settling into his being. "Three days and then I'll have a friend."
With one last sigh and a smile on his face, the young Prince fell into a peaceful sleep filled with dreams of what his new friend and him could do and could be together.