Chapter Text
Dinnerbone glared at the glass. Sunlight poured through, lighting up the floor in a million colors of auburn. He didn’t know what he felt but it burned. It twisted and it ached inside him. His hands shook as he clenched them into fists, nails digging into his palm. It felt good. The man depicted in the glass gazed down at him. Those fucking eyes were looking at him again and Dinnerbone could feel the sword that had torn through him. He remembered the rain, the blood, and the ways his body had failed him. He remembered what death tasted like. He swallowed. The glass shimmered as clouds covered the sun beyond the palace. He remembered jolting awake in his own bed, gasping for air, midsection screaming at him to lay back down.
Herobrine had killed Hero and then taken his body. That was the only explanation Dinnerbone had the strength to understand. It was the only one he had been given. Hero, the man who had been so fucking gentle. Who had basked in the sunlight and sat quietly in the moonlight. Who would curl up near fireplaces, and curse at the cold winter months. The same man who had plunged a sword into Dinnerbone had been the same one to hold his hand and lead him into the Aetherian sea all those summers ago. Had those nights meant nothing? The fires, the music, the dancing. Did this place mean nothing to him? If that man was still Hero, that meant that the past three hundred years they had spent together meant nothing.
Dinnerbone lifted his hand, fingers shaking as they touched the cool glass. He was so lost in thought he hadn’t heard the heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. “Dinnerbone.” He jumped back from the glass as though he had been burned, and whipped his head around. Notch.
“You’re highness.” Dinnerbone fought for his voice to stay even, and wiped at his eyes. He would not cry over a fucking monster.
“None of that. Please. You are my friend.” Notch sounded defeated. Heavy eyebags pulled at his eyes, and his face shone with grief. The public had demanded answers. Rightfully so. They wanted to know what was being done, and when. Herobrine was wreaking havoc on the Overworld, on mortals for fucks sake. Notch had been forced to give a speech to the public. Dinnerbone had stood here, throughout it all, tuning out the jeers and cursing of the crowd.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” Dinnerbone refused to look at Notch. He stared at the glass instead, trying to forget what Hero’s skin tasted like.
“I understand why you were absent. Nether, I wouldn’t have gone either if I had the choice.” Notch rubbed at his face. “I have to rid the palace of all mentions of… my brother.” His voice cracked and Dinnerbone held his breath to avoid crying.
“What. When.” This meant they had decided on wiping every trace of Hero. “Shouldn’t we remember Hero? He was killed. By that thing living inside him.”
Notch seemed to stiffen. “The public demanded–”
“You are their fucking king!” Dinnerbone’s voice echoed through the hallway. “You gave them immortality! You made this entire dimension. They can’t just demand you erase your own brother! Hero was–”
“I decided.” Notch didn’t yell. He didn’t scream like Dinnerbone had, and maybe that’s what shut the other up. The calm silence Notch exuded was scarier than any outburst Dinnerbone had ever seen. “My brother doesn’t exist anymore. He was killed by a Nether demon. His body was stolen from him, that was something we could not have prevented. There is no point in keeping traces of him here, and immortalizing him as… what? A saint? I refuse to be reminded of my failings.”
“But Notch–”
“I have decided, and as you have said I am your fucking king. I will not hear another word of this and you will address me properly.” They both ignored the single tear that ran down Notch’s cheek as he said this.
“I apologize… your highness. I thought we were just friends.” Dinnerbone turned back to the glass. They would remove it in the coming days, and with it would go the memory of Hero. All that would be left of the man Dinnerbone had loved, would be the monster that had killed him.
“The next meeting will be with the war council. The public is anxious, but satiated for now.” Notch stood straighter, glaring at the glass with hatred. Dinnerbone looked on in grief. “Jeb is assembling them now, and I order you to come. Please, your support is paramount to this conversation.” If you of all people go against Hero, the rest of the council will follow. It was cruel of Notch to demand this of him.
Dinnerbone wasn’t an idiot. He would go to the meeting. He would curse Hero out in front of every distinguished Aetherian council member, and call for war. He would do it because Notch asked him to. He would do it because even though he didn’t want to believe it, the man he loved was gone. He would stand next to Jeb and Notch and spearhead the war effort.
“I will motion for immediate expulsion to the Nether, and–” Dinnerbone had to take a breath, had to steady himself against the windowsill. “–I will call for a sealing of the portals. Until further notice.” He would do this because Jeb had told him what to say. Dinnerbone felt bile burn at the back of his throat. His stomach was on fire.
Neither man said anything. They stood and watched the sun shimmer through the glass. They stood for another moment longer, waiting for Jeb to come and find them.
When Jeb did finally waltz down the hallway, he ignored the glass, refusing to glance at it. He watched the colors on the ground and sneered.
Notch broke the spell first. He turned to Jeb, weary eyes latching onto the other. “How are you feeling?” Dinnerbone stopped breathing. When would people stop asking that? Did he want them to stop? The hand that was at his side, twitched. Reaching for Hero still, craving comfort that the empty space next to him could not give.
“Relieved. The hard part is over, your majesty.” Jeb patted Notch on the back. He was congratulating him for condemning Hero. Dinnerbone swallowed down the rage gathering on his tongue.
Jeb turned to him, placing a cold hand on his shoulder. “Dinnerbone, we missed you at the speech. I’m sure everyone understood why you were absent.”
Dinnerbone couldn’t tear his eyes away from the glass. “Give me a break.”
“I just think the people would have wanted to hear from–”
“Jeb please.” Dinnerbone’s voice cracked. Nobody said a word. The three allowed the silence to gather between them. Soft wind rattled the windowpane. Jeb’s hand left his shoulder and instead gripped Dinnerbone’s hand in his. Dinnerbone’s vision blurred with tears, breath hitching.
“Fuck I’m sorry.” His voice broke then, a sob tearing through him. His free hand gripped into his mouth, trying to stop another from echoing through the halls. Dinnerbone didn’t let go of Jeb’s hand once. Notch stepped in front of him then, and with a gentle hand, turned him away from the glass window.
“You loved my brother, and for that I thank you.” Notch’s voice wavered. It had never wavered. Dinnerbone could feel Jeb tighten his grip on his hand. “But I am– was his brother. I was his brother.” Notch hiccuped, tears falling freely down his face. “Jeb was his best friend. We are here with you, not against you.”
Dinnerbone felt his resolve crumble. He didn’t want to cry. Fuck it all he was done crying. “But, erasing him–”
Notch shook his head, fighting to keep his voice even. “Everything I do, is so we suffer less. Don’t look at what I’m doing as erasure. I’m making sure we’re the only ones who remember Hero. I refuse for the people to tarnish him and make a mockery of him as Herobrine has.” Notch drew Dinnerbone in, burying himself in his shoulder. Dinnerbone reacted immediately, letting go of Jeb in favor of wrapping his arms around Notch. Jeb stood there, watching the two sob. Distantly, Dinnerbone felt embarrassed at the fact he was crying in the grand hall like this. Anyone could be walking past at this moment, and see their king and general breaking down in the middle of the castle. Another, louder part wanted to tear the glass window out of the wall himself. Dinnerbone wanted to watch it shatter on the ground. He wanted to see the splinters explode outwards in cascades of rainbow. He wanted to throw himself on those glass shards and feel them dig into him. Maybe they would knock something loose, tear the last pieces of Hero from his hands, from his knees.
Maybe if he swallowed them, they would purge his throat of the taste of the other.
Another part of Dinnerbone just wanted to cry. At one point Jeb had wrapped both arms around Notch and Dinnerbone. Jeb had never hugged him. The trio stood like that for a long time. Jeb was the first to pull away, turning from the two and wiping his face of a few stray tears that had fallen. Notch and Dinnerbone stayed connected for another second. If Dinnerbone closed his eyes, and focused only on the arms around him, on the warmth coming from the other, he could almost imagine Hero was standing before him, gripping into him. When was the last time he had hugged him? Dinnerbone couldn't remember. Something inside of him was burning. There was a buildup of regret growing right below his ribs, soft and exposed, and all he wanted was to wake up. Dinnerbone wanted nothing more than to wake up to Hero’s soft snoring. It would be summer again, and Hero would be curled up next to him. The blankets would be kicked off of both of them, bodies exposed to the cool ocean breeze. And he would forget all of this. The blood and pain would recede and give way to bright sun and soft lips. Hero would lead the four of them down to the beach, and they would swim. When would they get to be boys again?
Notch let go of him, and as the warmth of his arms left, so too did the delusion that Dinnerbone would wake up one day and everything would go back to normal. Notch wiped his eyes, sparing a single glance at the ornate glass window.
“It’s time.” Jeb’s voice was quiet and even. It was eerie how well he could pull himself together. Dinnerbone almost envied him. Notch nodded, tearing his eyes away from the glass and latched on to Dinnerbone’s arm with his hand, pulling him away from the windowsill. Dinnerbone looked behind him as he was led away, trying to memorize every piece of the window.
He would never walk down this hallway again.
Herobrine’s fate was sealed that afternoon. The council meeting was ten minutes long. It was a unanimous court decision. The first one in two thousand years. They rallied behind Dinnerbone, hung on his every word, and seemed to him, like a starving pack of wolves closing in on a scrap of meat. They shouted curses and prayers of thanks into the air. To Dinnerbone it seemed they had all gone mad. They bombarded the trio with different gruesome ways to punish Herobrine. Dinnerbone tried to ignore them.
Not a single soul offered their condolences.
The stained glass window, along with every painting, every artifact Hero had ever come into contact with was purged from the castle and locked away under Notch’s jurisdiction. Dinnerbone had managed to keep a single portrait of Hero. It will haunt him forever.
The years passed and the three ignored the empty space around them. Jeb leaned into the anger, into the betrayal. He threw himself into his books, erected libraries and never set foot on the Overworld again. Notch leaned into apathetic violence. He seeked out Herobrine on purpose it seemed. They would battle twice every century, giving each other enough time to heal, giving the world enough time to forget the last one, and then the cycle would begin again. Dinnerbone existed as a ghost does. Going through the motions. He would fight when it was asked of him, lock the portals when Notch demanded it, and he would go to sleep at the end of the day. He would lose himself at the bottom of bottles or beneath the men and women in the Aetherian brothels. Dinnerbone would stand at the edge of the large Nether portal Notch erected in the dungeon, and would run his hand along its jagged surface.
Dinnerbone would spend the next several hundred years dreaming of stained glass and a warm body he would slowly forget the shape of.
Jeb would spend them dreaming of the summer. When times were simpler, when forever wasn't a constant game of waiting, and when the promise of eternal life still shimmered in their excited eyes.
Notch would spend them replaying every second that led up to this moment. He will spend them shrouded in guilt and hatred, feeding off of his bloodthirsty people. He will fight his brother over and over again, as though punishing the other for falling victim to himself.
And somewhere, deep inside the caverns of Hell, sweltering in rage and endless violence, Herobrine will grow his power, feed off the fear of the Nether mobs, and wait for his brother to come knocking, because fists are better than no touch at all. Deep, deep down, somewhere near his ribs, sheltered by soft skin and hard bone, a young boy will cry for that same brother, wanting nothing more to be held.