Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was hard being the ruler of any piece of land, let alone a whole entire Empire. Especially if that Kingdom didn’t rightfully belong to you. When people bowed down to you, owed their life to you, showered you with all sorts of gifts, all because of some lie that practically controlled your life.

Being a single father was also pretty hard, but it only got easier with time, something that unfortunately didn’t come as King. Besides, half the reason why it got easier with time was the son himself. The boy looked nothing like him or his other parent, but that only helped conceal their identity when the inevitable question popped up.

The kid was a ball of sunshine, well behaved and a delight to be around, considering the reviews people left has they left. He usually spent his time with the Bard, who was never really busy and could use the company anyways. This had OIi, the Bard, become Hermes’s second favourite person, after his father, of course.

----

His bedside alarm rang through his ears, disrupting the lovely dream that he could no longer remember. It was arguably the most annoying part of his day, though he was persistent on having it, to try and be somewhat closer to what was deemed ‘his empire’.

He looked across to the digital device of the devil sitting inches from him. ‘7:00AM’ blared across the screen, urging Joel to roll out of bed and turn it off immediately.

He made sure his sheets were made and neat before heading to his walk in wardrobe to change into his colourful yet regal attire. He could have left the sheets undone but there was this looming feeling of guilt, that he didn’t deserve and could never abuse that sort of power like that, and liked to make the servants’ jobs as easy as possible, knowing the single thread that stood him on the clouds could oh so easily be yanked, dragging him down once again. He sorted out his hair, making sure his green streak was relatively neat today, as had a few meetings and a speech to do today.

He picked up his crown from the pedestal on top of the large fireplace in the centre of his chambers. He held it gently in his hands for a moment, his fingers curling around the individual grooves, the golden base, with many glorious gems embedded into the majestic hat of power, a crown fit for a king, not him.

“The longer you gaze at it, the weirder you look.”

Joel practically threw the crown in the air, catching it again with a sigh of relief as the sound of another unexpected person’s voice made him jump out of his skin.

Standing against the doorway stood his most trusted guard, and friend, Grian. The two had been paired together once and ended up bonding during their time together, what else were a couple nine-teen year olds supposed to do during an assassination attempt? Be silent for hours as if you could fall asleep? No! This incident has lead to Grian becoming one of Joel’s personal body guards as well as a high ranking guard. To Grian, it mainly felt like hanging out with a friend, rather than a royal duty. A very cowardly friend, if that. If anyone knew anything about the King, it was him.

Watching Joel panic with the crown made his guard burst into a fit of giggles, bringing the sleeve of his iconic red sweater to his face to cover his mouth. Joel swore that this man just had multiple copies of the same sweater in his wardrobe. Guards usually didn’t wear full sets of armour daily, that was specifically for knights to do, but there were multiple stations throughout the palace for guards if they needed it in any sort of emergencies.

“Gods, you are just too easy sometimes.” Grian chuckled, closing the door behind him as he formally entered the room.

“Well, you need to stop doing that,” Joel remarked, staring into the mirror as he straightened the crown, which had made it’s way on top of his head by now.

“But it’s so fun though!” His guard groaned as he flopped onto the large bed in the middle of the room, to which immediately tried shooing him off of it. “Oi, I just made that! Get off!”

Grian moved his head to look at Joel as the King’s arms flapped as if the air pressure would be enough to move the man dressed in the red sweater. “You’re giving the maids a harder time, and you know it Grian!”

The guard rolled over, seating himself upright on the bedroom bench positioned perfectly like always at the foot of the bed as Joel quickly smoothed over where Grian had laid down.

“For someone who is the literal king of an empire, a pretty large one, at that, you sure don’t act like it, Mr. Humble.” Joel didn’t move his gaze from the bed as he spoke.

“Maybe I am simply a humble man.” Which got a chuckle from his guard, who by now had stood up and was walking towards the door. Joel realised his guard leaving him and immediately ran to catch up with him.

“Soulbound Season starts today doesn’t it?” Joel inquired as the two walked side by side down a long corridor, ceilings high as ever with murals and paintings, presumably of gods, which Joel didn’t exactly look at too much.

“Don’t remind me.” Grian let his head fall into his hands, the ends of his sweater slipping down his arm as the two continued onwards.

Soulbound Season was particularly special in Mezalia, and was something that occurred across the solar system, Including planets such as Rivendell, Gilded Helianthia and Grimlands, and involved people being physically linked to each other through pain. It deprived off of an old tale where people used to be born with two sets of everything they had now, and that people were now cursed to find the other half of themselves, to wander alone forever in search of their other half. It happened throughout spring, the season of birth and blooming typically.

Grian has found his soulmate while exploring his local market, and found that the reason why Soulbound Season was always painful for him was that he was tied to the very clumsy and accident-prone florist who volunteered as an archer on the weekends, and was surprising good at it, Grian found out. The man was nice, too nice, even, Grian had a few interaction before with him, but far from the point of telling him that the two were soulbound. After that, he simply couldn’t wait for summer to arrive, to be able to appreciate his soulmate for who he is, instead of cursing under his breath every five minutes after watching the florist trip over and land face first on the floor.

Joel was yet to find his soulmate, all he hoped was that they were nice and could help lighten the weight of his responsibilities.

As Joel opened the door to his son’s room, he couldn’t help but smile as he saw Hermes and Oli singing songs and playing dolls.

Oli liked looking after Joel’s son and often did it when he was caught up in meetings or in any sort of work. It felt like having a nanny around, but Oli hated being called a Bard, let alone a nanny, so Joel kept his mouth shut.

As the door creaked open, the two paused whatever song they were in the middle of, as the smaller one jumped to his feet to hug his father’s leg.

“Morning Father! Happy Soulbound Season Green!”

Hermes still had some issues pronouncing some words so instead of saying ‘Grian’, the child said ‘Green’ but nobody dared to correct him. “Happy Soulbound Season to you too, trouble.” Grian giggled as he also received a leg-hug from the kid.

After both leg-hugs were exchanged, the blonde kid beamed up to his father, “Uncle Oli has been telling me all sorts about Soulbound Season, including his!” Joel looked up to Oli, who indeed looked a bit sheepish, as if he said too much.

“Really Oli? Everyone knows your soulmate, and I just asked myself why I let you around my child.” Oli had stood up by now to see the other two adults pulling the same crossed arm look like a barricade in the doorway, a silhouette from the bright hallway to the dimly-lit room that Oli was in the middle of. He immediately threw his hands up in self defence as the tiny child giggled.

“The child deserves to know who his grandpapa is, you know.” Grian coughed at this. “Step-Step-Grandad, Oli. You’re Sausage’s adoptive father’s soulmate.” To which Oli flapped his hands as if to ignore what Grian said.

Joel turned to leave, and made sure to hold out a hand beside him for Hermes to hold, as it was still early in the morning and at least half of them hadn’t had any breakfast yet.

----

“Etho!” A concerned call came from downstairs, ruining Etho’s beauty sleep. There wasn’t time to get dressed so he simply walked downstairs, looking like an absolute mess, still adjusting to the light levels downstairs.

He labelled the voice as Tango’s, who was the type to usually overreact about things, but at the same time, was too sweet for his own good. He entered the lounge to see his blonde and beady red eyed friend glued to the Tv, staring at something in particular as he held a blade to his finger, slowly digging it deeper into the skin.

As soon as Etho realised, he ran to snatch the blade away from him, despite having to blink away the ‘sleepy dust’ away every two seconds, as Bdubs called it. Etho carefully placed the knife back down on the coffee table before speaking. “What did you want again?”

Tango didn’t even dare look away from the screen, transfixed on something he was watching.

“Look at King James.” He simply said in an even tone, making it sound quite suspicious to Etho.

He proceeded to light a match and hold it close to his arm, causing a very minor burn area. Etho watched as King James of Rivendell flinched and waved about his arm, making sure to notice the bleeding from his left finger, the same place that Tango had purposefully cut himself.

Etho didn’t even realise that Tango had picked up the knife until he saw a long cut along the King’s forearm. To which he once again immediately grabbed the weapon out of his destructive friend’s hand, making sure to place it on the other side of himself, out of Tango’s reach.

Sure enough, Etho figured out what Tango wanted now. He was making sure he wasn’t going insane by thinking he could be linked to a literal King, a figure of royalty.

“I was just working on a redstone project while watching Tv as I gave myself a bit of a bad burn and sure enough, on a cold day, King James got the exact same burn mark on himself, too.” Etho kept his eyes on the tv, seeing Tango’s misshaped redstone burn being copied and pasted onto the Consort King of Rivendell. “So I... had to test it out.”

This might have been the only time Etho was willing to admit it, but Tango was right. Tango was connected to the man who was the King of Rivendell, the man who was known for not being the biggest fan on Soulbound Season, but still kept it for his kingdom, knowing how much it meant to his people that he didn’t simply cancel on something just because he didn’t get along with his soulmate. That happened to people, not liking their soulmates, more often then some people would like to think, considering they were literally made for each other.

“So...” Etho said, somehow already bored of what Tango showed him. “What do you wanna do about it?”

Tango finally looked away to look at Etho, and flinched at the mere sight of him, knowing he would look messy, but not quite expecting him to have just woken up. Etho stared back at him as he awaited an answer, his eyes both looking at him but neither concentrated on him, like they were just as sleepy as the man who used them. One deep brown eye and one red eye. Despite them not being fully online, they were being serious.

“Are you kidding! I can’t just walk up to a married man, let alone a king and just say ‘hey! We’re soulmates. Haha!’ Take this seriously Etho!”

Etho was already making his way out of the room. Tango sighed, as he stood up and followed. “Listen, Tango, I have no idea, I simply believe that I have no soulmate, which would be so much easier for me to just live my somewhat normal life, so I don’t do ‘relationship advice’.”

Tango sighed as Etho walked back to his room upstairs, no doubt sound asleep again in five seconds. He was sure that Etho had a soulmate, he either just was so tolerant of pain he never felt it or his soulbound was way too careful around nearly everything. He simply shrugged it and that these three months would decide that. He had to figure out what to do with his soulmate first.

Chapter Text

Joel hated meetings.

He hated them to a point where it plagued his mind that his son would do the same thing in thirty years time.

As it was Soulbound Season, the kingdoms of the solar system tended to throw celebrations and parties to mark the start of the hunt for love. Joel dreamt of when his soulmate would find him, or if they ever will.

As a lonely king and a single parent, it would be nice to have those moments with. He also wouldn’t blame his soulmate for running away from all those responsibilities. Most people freak out at becoming a parent, let alone a leader of a country on top of that.

Joel also wouldn’t of blamed the gods if he never found his soulmate in the end, he would have thought it was a punishment for him, for lying to his people and committing fraud.

He just hoped that as he made a public appearances, his soulmate tried to be smart about not getting hurt.

----

Etho decided to take up personal training.

He had upcoming missions that demanded more skills from him and because it was the start of Soulbound Season, prices for these types of things were low as people tended to opt out ‘in order to protect their soulmate’ as Etho laughed in their face.

He enjoyed being alone and soulmate-less. It was much more freeing than ‘I’m so sorry for tripping up and landing face first on the floor.’

Tango advised him not to, but was half persuaded to let him go at the amount of redstone he was charged.

----

Before the evening’s festivities, Joel still had one more meeting to attend to.

It was mainly to do with the festival itself, but it also included segments about Soulbound Season as a whole. Any safety precautions people needed to take to save their loved ones or any encouragements to those still lonely and soulmate-less, which included Joel.

The brown-haired king sat at the head of the table, trying his hardest to focus on the meeting like a teenager in bottom set maths. It was working because nobody had noticed it yet. Either that or they made an effort not to say anything or they themselves weren’t paying attention.

He tried hardest on the bit that involved his speech, one that some of his advisors had drafted out for him. That he could at least focus on because he would have to physically announce it to everybody in the kingdom that night.

He pulled out his notepad and started jotting down a couple points he needed for later that night before he came to an abrupt stop. His stomach started gurgling and tipping upside down. He presumed his soulmate got sick on the first day which was exactly what Joel wanted from this.

He kept hiding his pain before someone decided to get a kick to the stomach.

That was his last straw.

Or his his last few seconds before he dashed out of the meeting room, closely chased by his guard, shouting after him as well. Joel didn’t even think on where he was going, simply running to where he knew the closest bathroom was.

Grian had just entered the bathroom, out of breath as he heard Joel already throwing up in one of the cubicles. Grian was getting his breath together as he leaned against the sink.

Joel managed to get even at him for scaring him earlier, as Grian minded his own business in his own little world outside the door before his king suddenly rushed out without saying a word or stopping.

Joel got comfy as Grian started checking himself out in the mirror, making sure he still looked his finest for the evening.

“Great start to Soulbound Season.” Grian mocked, knowing it might not have been the best time to say it.

“Shut up.”

Joel’s breath sounded shaky and he wasn’t quite ready to come back out yet, so Grian did as he was instructed. “My soulmate had the guts to get hit really hard in the stomach, about twelve hours in. I’m going to have the best three months of my life.”

Joel kept clutching the bowl of the toilet seat, and would worry about any sort of crinkling and imperfections of his uniform later.

As Joel’s crown was sat beside him, Grian got out his phone, mainly full of unread text messages from his friend, Mumbo, who was either teasing Grian about his soulmate or complaining on how the two of them weren’t together, to which Grian simply sighed and rolled his eyes at.

“Do you want me to carry a first aid kit on me, in case anything happens later?” to which Grian got a very quick response of “Please!” before hearing his friend throw up again.

----

Tango heard the door open earlier than he expected, to see a dishevelled looking Etho slouching in the doorway. He didn’t look all that well, and was clutching onto himself as if it would magically bring him support.

The blonde haired jumped from his position on the sofa and immediately grabbed a blanket to wrap around the sickly fellow. “Jesus Christ mate, I did say take it easy on the training!” Tango half shouted as he ushered Etho through the door.

“It wasn’t me who was sick, Tango.” Etho spitted out, making the red eyed redstoner smirk. “So, you do have a soulmate then.” Tango called as he settled Etho down on the sofa and ran to the kitchen to grab some potions.

There weren’t many things in life that Etho was wrong about, making this moment all the more entertaining. “Ok, look, I didn’t know until they threw up, which in turn made me throw up, as soulmates do.”

Tango returned with a couple potions in hand, one of regeneration and one of anaesthetic, to help numb the pain. Etho hastily grabbed both and downed them in an instant, clearly not one for pain, for someone who likes to say they tolerate pain incredibly.

As the two settled down, they decided to watch some Tv to chill with, tuning into the national news channel, as it provided a live broadcast from The Matral Palace, where King Joel was soon to make an appearance.

As they watched King Joel step out on the balcony, to greet the crowds and read his seasonal speech, Etho noticed something was odd about him, but he was a little woozy from downing the potions too quickly and was too busy trying to concentrate on drowning out everything so he could sleep again, so he said nothing.

----

Despite what had happened earlier, Joel decided to go ahead with the public appearance, making sure that Grian was kitted out in all sorts of first aid items.

As Joel appeared on a balcony, one high enough to assert dominance over his people, but low enough so they could clearly see him, Grian stood behind and to the side of him, his back against the cold stone of the Palace exterior. He tried guessing how stupid he was looking on Tv at that moment and knew that Mumbo had probably tuned in just to see his ridiculous face.

There was a microphone already set up, and Joel had a couple pieces of paper on him, with his speech written on them if he forgot what to say.

As he begun the speech, the hundreds if not thousands of citizens there took a vow of silence, listening carefully to what he had to say, captivated by his every word. Not only was what he was saying so interesting, it was how he way saying it that enticed millions upon millions of people who trusted him to be in charge of them. He was known for delivering speeches so beautifully and could rally up the most pessimistic of people.

His advisors convinced him to take a relief potion just before his speech, so that if his soulmate were to do something stupid again, he wouldn’t be throwing up on live tv in front of thousands in person and online. Joel hated how his advisors were right, as he winced from a couple light punches and minor burns to his arms, knowing full well that without that relief potion, the speech would have gone horribly.

Just like his entrance, as he ended his speech, the crowds went wild, cheering for their great leader, like something fans would do at a concert of a band they liked.

“Smooth.” Grian said, surprisingly unsarcastically as the two walked back inside. “I guess that was a waste of a potion then. My bad.”

The guard had already proceeded to take off anything that was temporarily attached to him for ‘first aid’ as he felt like a walking talking Christmas tree. “Oh, no, I needed that potion, so I thank you, really.” Joel replied, thinking back to the burning and the punches. Grian turned an eye at this.

“Really? You’re good at hiding it, so I guess that makes me a genius for suggesting it in the first place.” Joel chuckled as Grian held his head high, waltzing down an empty corridor.

The two opened the door to Hermes’s room to see the heir sitting and giggling at his babysitter, as the bard was in the middle of one of his performances, striking a ridiculous pose.

As the door creaked opened, candlelight flooding the room, the younger one turned and beamed up at who had turned up. “Father!”

The golden haired child dressed in royal purple gave one of his special leg-hugs before Joel scooped him up and hoisted him upon his hip.

“Green!” he exclaimed, making Joel sigh as he leaned over for Hermes to give Grian a hug, as he wasn’t bothered to move him off of him again. “We saw you on Tv!” Hermes smiled as Oli made his way over to the door. “Did you now? Is your father the best or not?”

Hermes had to audibly think for a minute, humming before grinning and saying “Nah~” to which Joel made sure to fake gasp, making the kid laugh even more.

“How about some dinner then, huh? That always cheers you up, doesn’t it?” He said to his son, walking down the hallway, bobbing the heir on his waist as he walked.

Grian walked ahead of Joel, an excuse to be doing his actual job of guiding His Majesty and The Royal Heir to wherever they wanted in the palace, Oli walked beside Joel, most likely talking about the speech, as Hermes simply rested his chin on his father’s shoulder and looped an arm around his neck, clutching him tight.

----

Tango noticed his friend falling asleep on his sofa, most likely after tiring himself by getting his own soulmate sick. He flicked him to check if he was still alive, to which Etho glared over, furiously.

As he continued watching the speech, he hadn’t realised Etho was getting cold, before the white-haired man decided to light a match and hold it close to him. He tried not to get angry or say anything as he knew he did the exact same thing mere hour before.

Instead he decided to snatched the match and immediately put it in the bin, bringing back over a bunch of blankets for his friend to snuggle into.

“I feel like I’ve been bubble-wrapped to stop hurting my soulmate.” were the first words that came out of Etho’s mouth. “That's because you are, feel this.”

Tango threw on the last of the blankets before properly going to punch Blanket-Etho, though the man made no comment on any pain so he thought he was fine in the pile, where nobody could hurt him, including himself.

----

The next day, Etho burst in, not ill-looking in anyway, just silent, and deadly, exactly what he was like being an assassin.

Was Etho trying to kill him?

The man simply slammed a few documents down in front of him, slumping in his chair as per usual, speechless, and refusing to make eye-contact.

Tango briefly looked over the contents of the document, before it was his turn to abuse the document, by slapping it on the table, only softer then Etho did it.

“And how on earth do you think you’re going to do that again?” Tango asked sarcastically, watching Etho’s conflicting feelings over the document.

“I-I don’t know, Tango, but that redstone pay? This isn’t a light thing you can just turn over, in the Soulbound Season too? That ore can literally fuel your machines for the rest of the century. On a pay that is during the worst season known for assassins in business!”

Etho was getting worked up as he paced around the house, Tango not even flinching. “Etho, calm down. You do realise why assassins don’t quite get work offers this season?”

He tried reminding his friend the reason why he was supposed to get practically three months off. “Yeah, and you do realise that there’s a reason why some targets have a higher pay reward for killing them, right? Because they’re harder to, you know, kill?” Etho sighed, laying face down on the sofa, the pay intriguing him and the target scaring him.

The amount of redstone that would get him and Tango was mental, especially for this season, where businesses that didn’t revolve around love were usually in the decline. It was also hard to find people wanted dead when they would double the actual casualties.

Tango knew he shouldn’t let his friend go ahead of this, but he knew he was right. They needed that redstone.

Chapter Text

“I can’t stop you, can I?”

Tango stood in the doorway of the two storey abode they called ‘Home’. Etho stood just outside, under the small shelter, fully geared up for his mission. He was dressed in his favourite assassin outfit, the ash green and grey tailor-made suit helped for sneaking around and running away in times of need. He had a leather sash around his waist, full of potions and weapons to complete his mission including potions of invisibility, harm and sleep, to entice the target for a painless death. He readjusted his mask, making sure it was situated upon his face perfectly.

“The fact that you thought you could in the first place is laughable.” Etho retorted, making sure all his potions were sealed and secure against his belt, his diamond weapons sharp and ripe for murdering.

“Don’t come crying to me when you accidentally murder someone famous as well.” Tango looked away, turning to go back inside and intending to getting back on with his work and latest projects as Etho furrowed his brows. “Someone famous? Why do you immediately assume he’s linked with a famous person?”

Tango held the door as he turned back around. “He’s a member of royalty, dammit, of course he’s going to be linked with another famous person!”

Etho give him a look at this, coming from a man who was soulbound to a king himself. Tango bit his lip and sighed at the irony at his words. “I know exactly what you’re thinking, Etho!” Tango waggled his finger at his friend, who chuckled in return. “He’s different! He’s married to a king, not blood.”

Etho threw his hands up in defence at this, as he started to turn and leave. “Just make sure you’ve got some food waiting for me on my great return!” He called out as he walked away backwards, while Tango laughed as he slammed the door.

----

“You feeling any better yet?” Grian closed half of the giant double doors that lead to the master bedroom, seeing a small man laying in the middle of the giant bed, staring at the ceiling in thought.

He was awake, alert and could most definitely hear him, but he was just playing a silent game. Grian noted the lack of response from his friend, and so walked over to his bedside, his boots echoing against the marble floor in the large room as he walked across, his presence noticeable. His friend was awake, he was just staring into space again, most likely thinking about something unusual and minor again.

“I know you can hear me, Joel.”

The king turned his head to look at his guard, his auburn brown eyes staring into Grian’s, stress and anxiety prominent as always.

“Physically, yes.” He sighed, sitting up in his bed to actually pay attention to what his friend had to say to him. Grian simply laughed at this.

“I gathered that the stress from the past few years hadn’t left yet, I was more or less talking about yesterday, and if you’ve recovered from that yet.”

Joel let out an audible sigh of realisation as Grian tried to figure out if this was sarcastic or not. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. I’m now just dealing with overthinking my actions yesterday, and how I made a fool of myself on Tv. Joel slumped back down on his bed, dragging his duvet back over his head, as Grian had to catch his own head before it fell too far down.

“You’re embarrassed on how you looked on Tv? I looked as silly as a human Christmas tree in March.” He pause for a second, crossing his legs as Joel looked at him, knowing exactly what words were going to come out of his mouth next. “Oh, wait a minute, I did!”

The guard threw his hands up as he stood up and went to walk away, before stopping at the end of the bed. “Are you going to be able to get up and sort some work out?”

Joel painstakingly sat up again, without resting against the headboard, and so slumped a bit as he leaned forward, still visibly tired. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get up.”

Grian nodded at the response and turned to walk out the room.

“Grian?”

The guard swivelled back around, tilting his head up and to the side, as a response to this inquiry. “Can you just let my son know that I’m busy, but that I’ll be there for dinner?” Grian nodded, proceeded to bow, and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing off into the distance.

Joel then didn’t get up and spent the next five minutes laying back down, questioning whether he was going to get up or not.

----

If it wasn’t for his amazing jacket, Etho would have been getting some pretty weird looks right now.

After leaving Tango at home, the assassin slipped into an alleyway, stuffing his gear into his bag and chucking on his thick green coat, to hide his suit as best as possible. He loved that jacket, everyone who knew him knew he did. He hand-sowed patched onto it, representing different things, such as flags, hearts, and silly little patches that he felt like sowing on.

The night before, he stayed up researching the blueprints of the palace, memorised the hallways, and rooms he needed to note, and knew where every single possible escape route was. This was no easy job, it was the worst person, at the wrong time of year, but redstone was redstone.

He contemplated his decisions countless times on his walk there, but each time convinced his feet to keep walking ahead, in hopes of that massive prize.

He found the birch tree in the quiet and local park outside The Matral Palace, and stored his items in a barrel buried underneath it. This was a task that relied on stealth and speed. His beloved coat and bag were only going to prevent him from completing this mission as he had meticulously planned.

He reburied his stuff in the barrel, which he had known had been there for years, as a checkpoint, every since he found himself in the business he was in today.

He did one final check to make sure his weapons and potions were at the ready, and got to work.

----

After half an hour, Joel got to work.

He didn’t look nearly as pristine and proper as he did the day before, but nobody had to see him that day, he could allow for such lenience.

He sat at his desk that overlooked the rest of the room. Despite being one of the smaller rooms in the palace, Joel still had a massive study, with portraits of himself and Hermes on the wall with the door, straight ahead of the desk, and windows that travelled the length of the wall, flooding the room with sunlight daily. There was a massive pile of paperwork on his desk that he needed to finish as soon as he could, so buckled himself up for a few upcoming nights of little to no sleep.

The paperwork was mainly to do with all the districts in Mezalia, and their monthly feedback on their communities and Mezalia as a whole. Joel found this extremely important as he respected his country.

Well, not his exactly, but still a country, a nation, an empire that he would like to treat fairly and let them help decided how to govern themselves.

He noted the time. 10:47AM. He would try and work until 11PM if he could, leaving a gap for dinner, as promised to Hermes.

----

Breaking into a royal palace was easier than Etho thought, so either the guy in charge needed to step up on security, or the films Etho had watched in the past were a bunch of lies.

The most likely option was both, because Etho was not convinced this guy had enough guards.

He found himself in the servant’s quarters, where he planned to gather a disguise to sneak around the palace in order to find his target in the first place.

Etho seriously didn’t like the uniform for servants.

The random set of suit he picked out included a set of magenta trousers (not very flexible, but did the job), a buttoned up white shirt and a matching magenta blazer that completely covered the white shirt, when buttoned up went all the way up to the collar.

It was not Etho’s colour and he was five seconds away from giving up.

But he carried on.

He collected an empty tray and cover from the kitchen and acted as if it was normal to deliver potions of sleep and harm to their intended target on a silver platter.

He stalked the palace, in search for the private quarters, and their occupant. There was no turning back now. He bumped into a guard, he assumed from the little armour and casual clothing, that he may have been a guard close to the king himself.

“Oh, are you delivering that to King Joel?” Etho panicked and nodded in reply, bowing his head as he did so.

“His Majesty’s in his study dealing with a hefty pile of paperwork currently, which is just that way.” The guard smiled as he pointed in the direction Etho was heading in the first place, towards the private quarters.

“Thank you.” Etho replied, bowing deeper this time as he left and hurried away.

----

Joel was somehow powering through the pile of paperwork, and had hopes of finishing it tomorrow, but knowing the lack of energy to come, doubted it.

He took a break to gaze out the window, to look upon his capital city and realise why he was doing all this in the first place.

He felt like a placeholder. As if he was keeping the seat warm for someone else when they arrived.

He tried shrugging the thoughts off as he watched the people below go about their day, people who worshipped him, people that adored him, people that admired him.

He realised that work was better than overthinking this again. He managed to get one more file completed before he heard a knock on the door.

He wasn’t expecting anyone at this time, so he had no clue who was outside his door. He assumed it was to be food or a gift if it was brought from a servant, but then again, he half expected someone like Grian to come knocking whenever he was bored.

----

Etho found the private quarters eventually. Despite memorising everything the night before the guard’s helpful guide, Etho had only just realised that he was terrible at general directions and coordination.

How did he get that far in life and in his career without knowing that, he had no idea, but at least he knew now, right? It was only then he realised why mapping was left to Tango to operate, not him.

He took a moment to pause and consider his stupidity.

At least he was good at the actual killing part, that awarded him the redstone he needed, otherwise his career path would have been all for nothing.

He composed himself and walked onwards, like a diver who was so close to touching the bottom of a pool that there was no reason to float back up now, even if they had run out of oxygen.

He stood outside the door to the study, great big quartz doors, entwined with warped vines that dwarfed him, who was relatively tall himself.

In front of him, mounted perfectly on the doors were handles made of pure gold, so shiny that Etho could clearly see his reflection through them. He took that as an influence to neaten himself up quickly, to help play the façade better. He shifted the tray holding his potions onto his left palm, which very nearly fell due to the silk white gloves worn.

After double and triple checking that it wasn’t about to topple onto the floor, he raised his right hand, gloved perfectly by silk, and knocked, which was surprisingly loud considering he had silk gloves on and the doors were made of quartz.

He panicked, thinking that nobody was even in there, before hearing a voice call from the other side.

“Come in!”

Chapter Text

“Come in!”

The large quartz doors opened in unison, the warped vines snaking up in random directions and the pure gold handles, tiny in comparison to the size of the doors, still complimented the doors perfectly. And Etho was framed perfectly in the middle of it all.

There was a servant at the door

There was a King sitting perfectly at his desk

The servant was wearing their magenta uniform, buttoned up to the collar, as usual. He held a silver platter in his left hand, his right empty, most likely being the one he knocked with. There was a lid on top of the platter, so Joel immediately assumed there was food underneath it. It was about one in the afternoon so he figured that Grian must of sent some food up for him because he had a tendency to forget meals in general, let alone with work. The servant wore a black neck warmer over his face, which he didn’t bat an eyelid at because he knew people liked their privacy and some were just germaphobes. His snow-white hair was messy and unbrushed, which Joel couldn’t blame, he looked like a mess himself. The servant had two different coloured eyes, one brown, one red, with a scar that ran through it, most likely through some sort of incident.

The King sat at a wide desk that made the somewhat small man look even smaller as he sat at it, paperwork piled high either side of him, most likely in the middle of work. It was a shame that other half wouldn’t ever get done again. He looked pristine, as if a diamond looked shinier in person, no picture could do such justice. His medium brown eyes questioned him, as if he didn’t expect him. In his defence, he didn’t. His green streak ran through the near middle of his hair, falling just to the right of his nose. On top of his deep brown and green hair sat a crown. It was made of pure gold, with various different gems engraved into it, with a large diamond centred on the front. There was a sash draped across his blazer, with various shades of deep green and magenta being part of it, tailored to fit his suit and body perfectly.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, taking in everything, about the unannounced servant and the assassin’s target.

Etho took a couple steps into the room, resisting the urge to swing his head and look at everything in detail, focusing on the prize right in front of him, his eyes not moving out of fear of blowing his cover.

He stopped just before the desk, mere metres away from barrels upon barrels of redstone. He gently placed the platter on the desk, on the edge closest to himself, as to be able to quickly grab the potions and throw them.

“Lunch was requested to be brought up, Your Majesty.” Etho said, in his most even and posh voice he could do without sounding over the top. The king looked inquisitively, challenging Etho’s every move. “By who, exactly? I don’t remember ordering anything?”

Etho panicked. He didn’t know anyone who lived in the palace except for him.

“Was it Grian?”

The sweat Etho released was being sucked back in, as the king mentioned a name he could use. “Indeed it was, Your Majesty.” Etho said in the same calm and even voice, as if he didn’t just go through a rollercoaster of emotions in the span of five seconds.

“Of course he would, he knows I skip meals a lot when I have work.” Joel laughed it off. The guard knew him well enough to know he hadn’t had his lunch yet, even if he was on a whole other planet. Grian was his friend, and Joel was lucky to have Grian, especially when he acted like a mother hen.

Joel wasn’t sure what he would have done if he didn’t have his guard. Perhaps dead, considering that first time the guard saved him from an assassination attempt.

Seeing the platter in front of him almost excited him as to what Grian had ordered for him. Sometimes it was pretty basic like sandwiches or pasta, or sometimes he goes above and beyond, having to thank Grian profusely the next time he saw him.

He wondered what today’s mystery dish was going to be. He raised his hand above his desk to take off the lid himself, his energy was high, his hopes ranged but the excitement was there for sure. He lifted it off towards him, shielding it from his view as he lifted it to his side.

The next moment was a blur in the memories of both participants.

As the king lifted the lid, Etho thanked his lucky stars that it opened towards him. He used the split second of the lid being opened to Etho as an advantage, grabbing both potions from inside, and instinctively splashing the first one of harm down onto the King.

He figured he had gotten too close to the potion splash as he felt some effects of it all. The King took a second to turn and cough, leaving him open to weapons.

As he squirmed, he yanked his axe out of his collared blazer, after so uncomfortably being tight against his back for too long. The diamond edge was sharp and hungry, which was Etho’s plan to gift to it.

He went to swing, but was beaten as the King managed to duck away and get out of his seat, a little unstable on his feet after the effects.

Fear raided the brown eyes that set their gaze upon the assassin, fear of a man who didn’t want to die, who might have had so much going for him, who might have had so much to live for, but nothing could persuade Etho more than ores. More specifically redstone so unless this king was willing to offer more redstone than his seller, which he doubted, the King was going to die.

Joel was freaking out, to say the least.

He had just been served a plate of potions, a platter that he questioned the sender of, and had just been splashed with a potion of harm.

As he coughed and spluttered through it all, he narrowly missed a swing to the head with a massive diamond axe. How this guy managed to hide it he had no clue, but there was no time for being impressed when he now stood, albeit a bit wobbly, in a corner of a small room in his private quarters, away from anybody else, about to die alone. He was trying to think of something, anything that would help undo this sticky situation he had gotten himself trapped in.

The guy had at least one more potion and an axe, and that was if he wasn’t hiding anything else up his clothing, which after seeing the size of the axe, he doubted that was it.

The crazy white haired man approached, taking another swing at him. It was close, very close to the point it managed to hitch his shoulder, causing him to bleed quickly from the deep wound.

Now the two were close, centimetres apart, he saw the evil and hunger that lurked behind his red eye, his real intentions from the start were clear and obvious. All he needed from Joel was for the king to die.

But he couldn’t die yet, no. He had so much going for him, being the king of a prospering empire and all. He had so much to live form his son being a very prime example, his heir to the throne. He didn’t want a five year old child to experience the kind of pressure that adults did, he was far too young to ascend to the throne.

The end of the line neared.

As the assassin retracted his blade, holding it high to swing again, Joel saw a window of opportunity. He stumbled out of the corner as he made a run for the door. He was about to pull it open and make a dash when an axe came flying out of nowhere. The assassin’s diamond axe was lodged in the doors, practically holding the doors shut, leaving no room to escape.

Joel nearly tripped up at the sight of it as he turned around to face the grim reaper inside his study.

The man had his mask on perfectly still. How? Joel had no idea. Their eyes bore deep into Joel’s soul, hungry for something, whether it was murder or power he had no clue. The blood red eye was determined, it was willing to do anything to win. And it most likely was. The man walked forward, slowly so his footsteps echoed throughout the room, wanting Joel to hear it as he got closer and closer.

“What do you want from me?” Joel asked, his voice breaking and stuttering as he spoke. The man paused, the rhythm of steps halted as he reached out for his axe that was still jammed in the door. “What do I want from you?” The assassin’s deep, menacing voice quiet enough as to not echo, as he asked sarcastically. His brows furrowed.

“If you knew the bounty that lies above your head, you’d understand.”

Etho was getting sick of this man, and his shoulder was starting to hurt a bit more, so he wanted this over and done with, so he could go home with his redstone.

With a bit of work, he grabbed his axe, and held it high, for this to be one fell swoop, for him to go out painlessly, a merciful death, but one that would have to do, Etho concluded. As the king’s eyes widened at the site, and with no way out, Etho got ready to kill.

Unexpectantly, there was a knock at the door.

“Father?” A high voice, one of a child echoed through the door, pausing Etho in his tracks.

Hermes. Why was Hermes here? Why here? Why now? Hermes was quite possibly the last person he would have wanted on the other side of that door.

As he watched, the king’s eyes widened even more, his panic going out of control. Etho watched as the man attempted to level his voice, Etho creeping closer as to find out what he was about to do. He wanted to put a hand over his mouth, in case he shouted for help or anything, but something told him otherwise.

“Hermes, I’m busy right now!” The king called out through the door, in as calm of a voice as he sounded he could. Joel needed Hermes to walk away and forget that this interaction ever happened. Hermes's last memory of him could not him in pain, dying before his own son.

Instead of the child’s voice returning, a different voice popped up, an adult’s voice. “Joel? Bud, I’m sorry but he was desperate to see you, ok? I promise it’ll be only a minute.”

Grian. The next worst person, but perhaps the best person Joel needed here at the current moment in time. Possibly the one person who could save his life.

Etho recognised that voice. He knew it, he had heard it only moments before, right.

The guard.

It was the guard.

Etho knew that the guard would persist, I mean it was his job to look after the king, right? And with the king’s child present too? It was a recipe for disaster.

Etho spotted an open window, and didn’t miss a beat. He practically tore off the blazer he was wearing and fitted his axe back into it’s slot on his harness, splashing the numbness potion onto the king. He must have had really bad aim that day because he felt his own potion effects. He scooped up the king, and fled through the window.

The mission a failure.

He didn’t know what to do next and so simply found his way back to the barrel in the park, hoping that nobody at all spotted him. The king had passed out by now and Etho was just about keeping himself upright. He through his jacket around the king, pocketing the blazer and crown in his bag along with his axe.

He just had to hope that Tango wouldn’t be too mad about an uninvited guest.

He stumbled through the door, a passed out king in his arms, dried blood settling around his shoulder. He heard his roommate in the kitchen.

“Etho is that you? I’ve got some chili on the side for you, just make sure to take a shower first because I suppose you might be covered!” He wanted to reply, but couldn’t. All he wanted to do was sleep.

So he simply walked up to his room, weakly threw the king onto the bed, and swiftly followed suit, only bothering to take the bag off.