Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Surely there’s a backup generator.”

“Tried that. No power, no heat. Generator’s totally fried.” Etho pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing into his comm as the illuminated hologram of Impulse sits in front of him, equally stressed.

“I can send someone for you–“

“Nnnnope,” Etho interrupts, eyeing the already concerning amount of snow coming down. “This storm is no joke, and definitely not in the dark. If you send someone out in this, we’ll just have more people at risk of dyin’.”

“Well we’ve gotta do something,” Impulse retorts. “Her Majesty is ripping her hair out over here, and you’re practically sitting ducks at this point. No fireplace either?”

“It’s basically a glorified shack,” Etho sighs. Their place to seek shelter in the storm leaves… a lot to be desired, but it was better than freezing to death in their Rover. This old cabin has been a sort of landmark for royal expeditions in the mountains since the late king was a boy. Maybe at some point it was a cozy getaway, but now, with the generator wires completely shredded and worn by time and the elements, BDubs and Etho have found themselves a fridge to freeze in while the unprecedented storm blows through.

Speaking of BDubs, the prince has located a box of matches and is roaming about the cabin lighting the few candles they have for light. Still bundled up in his coat, BDubs has been allocated to Find Sources of Warmth duty while Etho contacts the castle while they still have a connection.

Despite going through every possible solution, the simple fact of their scenario is that it’s too dangerous, cold, and windy to make a trek home. Up north, snow storms are not to be trifled with. All they can rely on now is their survival training. Or, just Etho’s survival training. Being raised in the Redstone Peaks has its perks from time to time.

“I’ve insulated the doors and windows the best I can,” Etho adds. “We’re both thinking of just trying to sleep through it. We’ve got water, and it looks like BDubs has located some extra blankets.”

“One of ‘em’s weighted!” The man exclaims with a grin, not looking all too concerned with their plight. Either he doesn’t grasp how serious this is, or he places all too much faith in Etho.

“We’re sending a rescue party as soon as the weather clears,” Impulse reassures. “We’ve got your location pinged, and we’re monitoring the storm. As soon as we have a reasonable opening, we’ll get you out.”

“Don’t worry, Impulse. Etho and I will huddle for warmth.” BDubs peeks over Etho’s shoulder with a grin. Impulse looks unimpressed.

“Well, at least his spirits are up,” Impulse sighs. “Etho, keep our prince alive, would you please?”

“Kinda my whole thing.”

“Alright. We might lose connection here, but call if things get bad. This is the 23rd century for crying out loud. We should be able to outsmart the elements.”

“Will do, Impulse. See ya soon.”

Impulse’s figure fizzles out and Etho heaves another sigh, grimacing at the sight of the cold air coming from his mouth.

“You shouldn’t have hung up, Impulse would’ve found the whole one bed thing hilarious,” BDubs smirks, heaving the last of what is now a considerable pile of blankets and pillows onto the one bed they have.

“Truly the cherry on top of this whole frozen cake,” Etho shakes his head with a smile. “But he would’ve never let me hear the end of it.”

“He’d be jealous. Under these puppies we’re gonna be snug as a bug in a rug.” BDubs pats his pile proudly. Etho just shakes his head with a snort.

Maybe they should both be way more frightened considering the circumstances. This shack wasn’t built by a genius, and there’s a good reason it was abandoned. They’re honestly lucky to have a bed to sleep in. But Etho has done everything to ensure that in the very least, they’ll make it through the night. This moment catches BDubs and Etho both staring at the singular bed, and Etho can’t help but feel a slight sense of… nervousness? Or maybe just hesitation. He’s absolutely dead-on-his-feet tired, more mentally than physically, and though BDubs puts up a front, Etho gets the feeling he’s feeling the same way.

It’s just a matter of how they do this.

“I can sleep on the—“

“Shut up, BDubs, you are not sleeping on the floor,” Etho says, resisting the urge to smack the prince. “Listen, I know it’s not ideal, but even if there were better sleeping accommodations, in this kind of cold, sleeping separately is out of the question.”

BDubs sheepishly looks down at the floor. “Well yeah, I just didn’t want to make you uncomfy or nothin’.”

An involuntary spike of fondness and exasperation crosses Etho’s mind, a smile he can’t fight splitting out at the ridiculous notion that BDubs would rather sleep on hardwood, freezing floors than make Etho uncomfortable. His priorities may be utterly screwed –making Etho glad that he’s here with BDubs to point him in the right direction– but even in a crisis, that big stupid heart shines through.

So Etho dumps the spare blankets on top of the bed unceremoniously and gestures at it with false pomposity.

“It would be a privilege, My Liege.”

BDubs just makes a retching noise, finally relenting and sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his boots, his belt, his shirt—

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaat are you doing?” Etho squeaks, eyes wide as BDubs just casually pulls off his jacket and shirt, exposing his bare chest in stars-know-how-cold temperatures right as the two of them are supposed to snuggle the night away and wow he has a really toned chest, when did he—

“Uh, skin to skin contact transfers more heat, especially from the core. Duh.”

“I- that’s not- now how would you know—“

“Royal education, stupid!”

Etho’s face is rapidly flushing, his entire composure absolutely ruined in one tiny gesture as he flounders for… well, any words at all.

“Just because I wasn’t educated by the planet's best scholars doesn’t mean I don’t know how to survive in the cold!” he defends pathetically.

“Oh yeah, smart guy? Can you even name the three types of heat transfer?”

“Can you?”

BDubs opens his mouth to respond, and then shuts it. He frowns thoughtfully.

“Ok, maybe not. That’s not the point, wouldja just strip the shirt already? This ain’t exactly practical solo.”

Etho should just run out into the cold and save himself an agonizing fate. He should just go shovel a path through the snow and drop dead. But instead, because BDubs has a point, and Etho is weird and 'quirky' enough to try just about anything, he turns away and gingerly takes off his green overcoat, the under jacket, and finally the thin thermal tank top underneath it all. His chest is instantly met with a biting, unforgiving cold that makes it immediately understandable why BDubs now looks like he’s itching to get under the covers.

Though Etho has seen BDubs in various states of undress by nature of his job, it occurs to him after a moment of silence that the same isn’t equal the other way around. This is made apparent when Etho turns and catches BDubs’ eyes trained on his torso, marred with scar tissue, symbols of battles won in his line of work. He isn’t embarrassed, but he knows how unusual they look. Etho is just unusual inside out, this is nothing he’s not used to. But he also knows he’s probably not the most pleasant to look at, so he wastes no more time in peeling back the thick layers of blankets.

BDubs is eager to crawl into the bed, a lover of being cozy before anything else, and when the two have worked together to pull the heavy layers of blankets over them both, they’re cast into silence, save the crackling of the candle wick. 

It’s pitch black below the blankets, both men keeping their heads beneath as well so as not to lose heat, but BDubs taps his wrist, and the soft light emitted from his caster bathes them both in blue.

Etho is taken aback at the sight of BDubs. Curled up just inches away from him, he looks vulnerable. Child-like, even. His freakishly doe-like eyes stare into Etho’s, and shielded away from the rest of the world, Etho can see the tentative fear in his eyes, the blasé attitude rendered useless while they sit like ducks waiting to die in this blizzard.

“You scared?” Etho asks with a teasing lilt. BDubs’ face scrunches irritably.

“I am certainly not. If anything, you’re scared, crawlin’ all over this place lookin’ for holes to plug.”

“I mean, if you’re content to freeze to death, I have no problem undoing all that.”

“No!” BDubs squawks, eliciting a laugh from Etho.

“Impulse says they’ll be here by morning,” he reassures instinctively. “Maybe even earlier.”

BDubs scrunches his nose. “So our choice is to risk the whole night in the cold or be woken up in the wee hours. I don’t know which is worse.”

“You can just go back to sleep on the ship,” Etho snorts.

“Not nearly as cozy as this whole mess.”

They share a smile, some relief coming over Etho as he starts to feel the collective body heat trapped underneath the comforter begin to warm them up. After a few minutes of slowing chatter, Etho is just about to nod off, so tired that he doesn’t notice BDubs shifting, reaching out, until cold fingers meet his chest.

Etho flinches, and BDubs freezes completely. Slowly, Etho glances down, and sees the tips of his friend’s hand meeting the scar tissue of an old wound. Realizing his entire body has tensed up, Etho forces himself to relax. This is ok. It’s just BDubs.

With something akin to permission, BDubs rests his palm against the scar, the cold feeling before turning into a searing heat to Etho. BDubs’ eyes are trained on the scar, studious and non judgemental, but a sadness runs through his face.

“Ah. This old thing,” Etho whispers awkwardly, not sure of what else to do.

They both remember where this one comes from.

BDubs’ thumb swipes over the rough patch of healed skin, and the sensation brings Etho back here, under the blankets, safe and in one piece.

He knows BDubs blames himself. He’s got this stupid way of thinking, convinced that even though this is Etho’s job, his purpose and mission in life, every injury sustained on the royal’s behalf is the royal’s burden to carry. Etho has no regrets.

He wants to say something else, anything else, but instead he lets BDubs run his fingers down the jagged scar, pretending the delicate touch isn’t pure agony. Not because of the bad memories or the phantom pain, but because Etho is scarcely touched in this way ever. It feels like the devotion Etho is imbued with. It feels like years of friendship. It feels like love, and Etho is sick with it.

He just hopes BDubs can’t feel his heart racing.

“It’s not fair,” BDubs whispers, a rare somber notion from the prince. Etho’s heart jumps, and when he opens his mouth to say something comforting, nothing comes out. He doesn’t understand. The way Etho sees it, he has a way easier job. It comes naturally to him. BDubs has to be a leader. He has to be charismatic and brilliant and extroverted and carry the weight of millions on his shoulders. Etho will take a blade to the chest every now and then if it means not dealing with that. But they both had natural talent and extensive training for their respective jobs, and a genuine enjoyment for what they do. That seems perfectly fair to him.

“Your hands are freezing,” Etho complains, his voice soft. He doesn’t know how to comfort BDubs with his words, so he’ll have to settle with his usual love language: protection. “C’mere.”

Etho reaches around BDubs and pulls the other man into his chest, every point of contact a shock of electricity. If they’re both going to be vulnerable and half naked, they’d better make the most out of it by staying warm.

BDubs doesn’t resist the notion at all, responding by wrapping his arms around Etho’s torso and letting out a loud, exhausted sigh. Somehow, it doesn’t feel awkward, holding BDubs like this. It is for survival after all, but considering how rarely Etho is touched at all by anyone, he feels this tangible sense of relief, being able to so closely monitor BDubs’ well being, that’s all.

It means nothing, his hands resting against BDubs’ muscular frame, or his chest resting against the top of BDubs’ head. It’s just a… sideways hug, he guesses.

He treasures this, the only time something like this will ever happen. He treasures BDubs needing him, holding him, even if it’s out of necessity. 

Etho isn’t allowed something as wonderful as this otherwise. He never will be.

“Etho,” BDubs breathes out, the warm air hitting Etho’s collarbone. His speech is slurred and sleepy. “When we get home…”

He yawns, and Etho waits for him to continue, but the rest of the sentence never comes.

“When we get home… what?” Etho prompts, his voice uncharacteristically soft. BDubs mumbles something incomprehensible, and when Etho angles his head to get a better look at his friend’s face, he sees that BDubs’ eyes have fluttered shut, the damn fool cozy enough to doze off.

Etho smiles, giving in to the urge to gently card his fingers through the soft curls of BDubs’ hair.

“Alright, buddy. Whatever you want.” He whispers fondly, letting his exhaustion catch up to him as he shuts his eyes.

He wakes up to near-suffocating heat and snickering.

Etho’s eyes snap open and he writhes, carefully so as not to wake BDubs, to poke his head outside the mountain of blankets.

What he finds is Joel standing in the doorway, his Grid aimed in their direction where photographic evidence has surely been gathered. On the one hand, this is a good thing for him to wake up to, because it means that rescue has arrived. But it also means that it’s Joel.

“Oh my god. You are so immature,” Etho hisses quietly, causing BDubs the mumble and stir, but not quite wake, holding tightly to Etho’s waist. Etho’s face heats up, much to Joel’s devious delight.

“I’m just getting good photos for the wedding slideshow,” he giggles. “And if you give me 20 bits, I won’t show Tango.”

“Deal. Now get out and let me wake him to a face less ugly than yours.”

“Oooh, someone’s grumpy. I’ll have them make coffee for you on the ship.”

With that, Joel finally shuts the door, leaving the two of them alone, and Etho finally gets the chance to look around a bit. Going by the little he can see through the covered window, it must just be the very start of dawn, with barely any light at all visible. 

Etho rouses BDubs from his sleep, quietly informing him that backup has arrived. The groggy prince still has his arms wrapped around Etho’s waist, grumbling about Etho letting in the cold air, and Etho is almost remorseful to leave such a pretty sight.

He flops BDubs’ shirt over his face, earning an undignified squawk from the sleepy man. Well, almost.

Upon dressing, the two are swarmed by castle attendants worrying over them both with blankets and mittens. They’re whisked away onto an airship that sits just outside, where Etho gets a peek of the sun crawling over the mountains, illuminating mounds and mounds of snow that had fallen the night before.

The warm air from within the ship is a welcome sensation, Etho and BDubs both sighing happily as their shivers subside. They share a sofa and let the attendants check them over for fever and signs of hypothermia, and by the time there’s a cup of coffee in Etho’s hands, BDubs has already fallen back asleep, head resting on Etho’s shoulder and snoring loudly. Etho grimaces. He always drools a bit when he does this.

As they fly over the mountains, he chats quietly with Joel and Impulse, occasionally looking out the windows to the world below.

“We’re glad you guys found shelter,” Impulse says, looking exhausted as the stress of the search has finally subsided. “I don’t know what we’d do if you were just out there on your own.”

“That would’ve been significantly worse,” Etho agrees. “But I still had a few tricks up my sleeve in case of the worst case scenario.”

“Still. I’m sorry you had to go through that. We’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

BDubs snorts a bit in his sleep, earning a fond smile from Etho.

“Oh you know,” he says, “It wasn’t all that bad.”

Occosia is a beautiful place. There’s no arguing with that — with rolling hills of tall, periwinkle grasses, towering mountains in their southern hemisphere, and the latest and greatest technology in terraforming, there’s a good reason that even the enemies of Occosians hold a sort of disgruntled respect.

According to Joel, it’s kind of a miracle for them to even make this visit. The Occosians still hold Leto at arm's length, having been on opposite sides of two wars with them in years' past. However, the Queen is an amicable lady, Etho has come to learn. She has connections everywhere. Including an old friend from her university days, a well renowned scientist by the name of Cub. She’s disguised the visit as a friendly outing and a tour of Cub’s conservancy, but in reality, Etho suspects it’s more for the purpose of having BDubs step foot on Occosia for the first time and become a bit more acquainted with the planet they still are attempting to be more amicable with.

“Huh. Sky’s purple,” BDubs comments as their ship finds landing, peeking out the windows like a curious kid.

“Their flora and fauna differ greatly from Nereus or Leto,” the Queen says. “Don’t let your jaw drop too far in front of the director, dear.”

When they’ve finally touched down, a connector forming between their ship and the small station Cub had built on the landing pad, they’re hailed by two well-dressed young adults, who Etho can only assume are interns for the director.

The veil to the connector falls and the Queen is quick to greet them, introducing BDubs and exchanging pleasantries.

“Here, boys. We’ll be needing these,” she says, handing them both masks that look to fit around their lower face. “The air composition isn’t quite the same here. The locals are almost entirely adjusted, but we aren’t.”

“Ah, on the contrary, Your Majesty, reactions can actually vary from person to person,” A new voice makes itself known, and all heads turn to the side door through which a man has entered. The Queen breaks into a smile.

“Cub!” she greets, embracing the man’s hand enthusiastically.

“Hello, Megara, you look well,” Cub gives her a firm handshake, turning then to BDubs. “This must be your son. Welcome to Occosia, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, sir,” BDubs says graciously. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

The three engage in idle chatter as Etho figures out the oxygen mask he’s been given, fitting it snugly over his regular cloth mask. He hardly notices any difference, but he supposes that’s the point.

The director brings them outside the ship and onto the landing pad, where the group can get a better look at the Occosian landscape. It’s even more beautiful up close, encompassing prairie grasses moving in the wind like waves. The climate is fairly warm, but not at all humid. The coloration of the sky reminds Etho of a permanent sunset. He wonders if Occosians have off kilter circadian rhythms because of it.

They begin the tour of the conservancy, going down a rather messy dirt path through the grasses, and Etho is more or less cast into the background, the director laying his attention solely on the royals. Which is honestly fine by him, he gets to tune out of whatever nostalgic conversation they’re having.
Occasionally, BDubs will sneak a glance behind him and wink, clearly not doing any better with fully listening to this guy. Still, he looks around the world with a childlike wonder, and will pay attention when the director educates him on their surroundings.

“Being the last to colonize, the early Occosians were able to do significantly less terraforming than other planets. Not needing an air tube is actually a development to only become widespread in the last couple of generations. Faster than we expected.”

Etho feels his mask a bit. He’d been sick as a dog his first few days on Nereus from the atmosphere change, but beside the air feeling a bit thicker, he didn’t notice much difference transitioning from his home planet to Leto. The sort of muted colors on this planet do remind him of home. Less red, of course, but the near perpetual fogginess of a morning on Lyoko cast everything in a silvery tone.

As the director and the Queen delve deeper into conversation, it seems clear that BDubs and Etho may not quite belong, so the two stroll ahead, continuing to explore the conservancy.

“This place is kinda weird,” BDubs comments, running his hand through the prairie grasses. “It’s like none of it can sit still.”

“That’s an odd way to put it,” Etho smirks. “I think it’s pretty cool. There aren’t any rhinecta here as far as I’m concerned. Less buggy too.”

“I suppose I can’t argue with fewer bugs,” BDubs concedes. “Still, it’s hot. And it doesn’t even look like it should be hot. It looks—”

“Like a constant sunset?”

“Exactly!” BDubs exclaims. “You read my mind, Etho.”

They walk a bit further and find a hill with a giant tree on top, one with deep burgundy leaves that look like they’re the size of Etho’s face. BDubs seems curious about this, but slows at the base of the hill.

“Look, don’t tell nobody, but I am like, way too pooped from the trip to make it up there. You go ahead.”

“You alright?” Etho asks, popping an eyebrow. “We can head back if you want.”

“Nah, nah. I just didn’t really sleep a whole lot on the trip. You go. Grab me a leaf, please.”

Etho snorts. “Yes, Your Highness, I will gladly grab you a leaf.”

He climbs up to the top of the hill, a bit winded by the time he reaches the summit, but the view is well worth it. From up here, the prairie grasses look like a churning ocean, and in the distance, he can make out what appears to be a lake. This is the beauty of northern Occosia, apparently the south is rife with strange rock formations and dryer conditions.
Etho scans the horizon, and the kingdom below, finding the Queen and director chatting on a bench. It’s when he looks to the foot of the hill that something seems off.

True to his word, BDubs has stayed below, finding a grassy gnoll to perhaps rest, but it’s his posture that’s off. He’s facing away from Etho, crouched down a bit with his hands on his knees.

A knot of concern forms in Etho’s stomach. BDubs had said he wasn’t feeling well, so maybe it’s best to get him back on the ship.

It’s when he begins to sway that Etho senses that something is very, very wrong.

“BDubs?” He calls out, voice carrying from up above. If BDubs hears him, he doesn’t respond, and finally, his knees buckle, and the prince goes tumbling to the ground.

Etho breaks into a sprint, his eyes glued to the suffering prince as he hurls himself down the hill, crushing tall grass underfoot. Every step feels like he’s taking flight, stumbling down the steep hill as fast as he can. Every moment he gets closer is, nonetheless, a moment he isn’t close enough.
As he reaches the bottom of the hill, just a few more meters to go, he hears a scared cry, the Queen finally witnessing why one of her vessels took off. But Etho doesn’t have any time to stop and elucidate on the details. Crashing painfully to his knees next to BDubs, Etho can’t afford to lose a second.

“Your Highness,” Etho prompts, grabbing BDubs roughly by the shoulders and turning him to get a better look. BDubs’ skin is clammy and drained of color, and though he isn’t yet unconscious, his eyes are unfocused and fluttering shut. A wordless murmur escapes his mouth, and Etho is, in short, very scared.

He mentally goes through every single medical detail he knows about the young prince, every allergy, past ailment, and genetic predisposition running through his head at light speed, but it’s when Etho sees his chest moving shallow and quickly that he understands.

He could call out and tell them to get a different mask for BDubs, that maybe his air levels weren’t right or how there might be a crack somewhere. It’s a waste of time.

Etho grabs the air filter attached to his face and pulls it off, and almost in the same motion, removing BDubs’.

“Baron!” The Queen screams, rapidly approaching from behind Etho.

Etho doesn’t let himself be distracted by the horror in her voice, the first time he’s heard fear come from the monarch, he just straps his own air filter to BDubs’ face and prays to every being above that this works.

“Breathe BDubs,” Etho barks, startling the prince from the dregs of airless sleep, a glimmer of focus returning to his face. BDubs is still breathing too fast, possibly hyperventilating, but the moment his chest rises high to inhale deeply, Etho could slump over from sheer relief.

Then the Queen is collapsing to her knees at BDubs’ side, hands hovering over his body to assess for any injuries. Her eyes shine, and this is the most distressed he’s ever seen her.

“Baron,” she whispers, cradling his face and smoothing out his hair as the prince continues to struggle to breathe, the color returning to his face. The Queen turns her attention to Etho. “What happened— Etho, your mask!” She looks frightened all over again, but despite the thinness of the air, Etho finds himself breathing rather easily.
Nonetheless, the Queen whips her head to the director. “We need another oxygen mask, now!” The command in her voice reflexively causes Etho to sit up, a stark reminder that she too was once a soldier.

“Your Majesty, I’m alright,” Etho says. “I think. It was his mask—“

The Queen is already picking up the discarded mask, inspecting it carefully and looking back and forth between the mask and her son.

“‘m… fine,” BDubs croaks out. “E- Etho?” There’s an edge of panic to his voice, and Etho is quick to reassure.

“Really, I feel fine. Maybe a little lightheaded, but… I don’t know, I think this isn’t too different from the atmosphere on Lyoko.” Or maybe the synthetic lungs are helpful. Doesn’t matter really. What matters is that BDubs isn’t dead.

“The seal has a leak,” the Queen hisses, sliding a finger across the mask, visibly displeased. In all likelihood, this was a small oversight and complete accident, but Etho can see why she’d be shaken– assassination attempts come a dime a dozen for royals.

“Here!” The director shouts, sprinting to them, a mask in hand. He gapes when he sees Etho’s face  and becomes even more confused upon seeing BDubs breathing semi-normally. The Queen snatches the mask from the director and in one quick movement is securing it onto Etho’s face. 

“Your Majesty, I’m quite alright,” he tries to reassure her, not knowing what to do as she secures the strap around his head, adjusting it just right, pushing his bangs out of the way, and eyeing the meter on the front to check that it’s running correctly. Etho thinks this is probably what mothers are supposed to do, even though he’s more than capable of putting on the mask himself.

“There,” she sighs, turning back to BDubs, who at this point is sitting up groggily. “Baron, is that better? How do you feel?”

“Fine, Mom,” he grumbles, looking at Etho with a strange look on his face. “What exactly happened?”

“The seal is torn,” the director says thoughtfully from behind them. Etho had almost forgotten the man was even there. He looks concerned, upset almost. “I conduct inspections on these often. They’ve been tampered with. I’m sorry, Megara. I’ll investigate this immediately.”

“Good,” she snaps, clearly shaken, but pulling herself back together. Though his guard is up, Etho doesn’t suspect the director, and it doesn’t seem as though she does either. Then, the Queen is turning to him. “What were you thinking?”

Etho’s face turns hot, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. “It’s just… I- I don’t really know. I wasn’t.”

Something in the Queen’s eyes changes. He can’t make out what she’s feeling, but the moment where the worried mother came out quickly fades, and she is a tactful monarch once again.

“You acted out of instinct. Good work.”

This is more his speed. “It was nothing, Your Majesty.”

He is then promptly smacked on the chest by BDubs, who is now sitting up, awake, and looking as irritated as ever.

“No, not good work, stupid! This guy had an extra mask on him and you just go slorpin’ in that that poisonous Occosian air?! Judas priest, Etho!”

Throughout the entire visit, BDubs basically never stops reminding Etho of the stupidity of ripping off his mask, huffing and puffing while occasionally checking to see that his own is properly secured and working. Meanwhile, the conversation between the Queen and director turns more diplomatic, losing the casual friendliness after such a scare that undoubtedly the director takes responsibility for.

Etho has never been great with politics and court customs, but he can see the way the Queen is recalculating her trust with the man, even though she stays friendly and cordial. It’s fascinating, the inner workings of someone in her position.

Good work. There was something behind those words, a curiosity becoming of the older woman, probably on how Etho’s demeanor remained unchanged even when exposed so abruptly to the different atmosphere. She won’t ask if it has anything to do with his prosthetics– for one, not wanting to pry while also keeping Etho’s promise that no one —including BDubs— knows what lies beneath synthetic skin.

A miracle, some would say. Others, however, wouldn’t think so kindly.

The night is opulent. Light orbs float in the air, emitting a warm glow that casts everyone in a golden hue. Enormous plates of food are passed around as though they’re one giant family and not multiple Letotian leaders here on business. 

BDubs sits at the head with Cleo, laughing and chatting and generally being the life of the party. He’s magnetic to other people, asking more questions than he answers and warmly teasing some of the more familiar governors. 

Etho stands just in his shadow, conventionality in a corner that’s tucked away enough that no one really notices him between the servers and other staff who occasionally bustle by. Sometimes BDubs will refer to him in a conversation, regaling some funny story only to gesture at Etho, who has no choice but to awkwardly bow his head.

He knows it bothers BDubs that Etho, Joel, and Gem don’t sit with them, but honestly none of the guards would thrive in a social situation such as this.

Etho trails a glance down the table, at faces and hands and utensils and body language, keeping on his job of being alert, and as his eyes find BDubs’ salad plate, something particular catches his eye, something on the fork BDubs is starting to bring to his mouth.

There’s no memory of him traveling from his corner to BDubs’ side, Etho just kind of appears there, and is slapping the fork out of BDubs’ hand before he can think any better of it and sending salad leaves flying.

What am I going to do with this guy?

A hush falls over the banquet table and all heads whip in their direction as BDubs gigantic puppy eyes meet Etho’s.

“Your Majesty, you are allergic to cashews,” Etho hisses, trying very hard to keep out the implied ‘dumbass.’

BDubs’ jaw drops as he looks from his salad plate and back to Etho.

“I didn’t even- dang, Etho, that was sharp!” He says with an awed look. 

This apparently cues the rest of the table to applaud Etho, oh Void, anything but that.

He slinks back into the shadows as quickly as possible after giving quite possibly the world’s most awkward little wave while he resolves to find who in the kitchen staff was so careless and to have them fired immediately.

The first day Etho feels sick, it isn’t so bad. His head hurts a bit, and the cough is annoying, but easy to stifle. He does his best to drink more water and actually take a nap on his break, but instead of feeling better, he feels heavier when he wakes himself up. Whatever. He can shake it off.

The second day, things get a little worse, but Etho pushes through, trying to hide the sweat beading his forehead and the increasing feeling of dizzy nausea. The third day, he’s pretty much out of excuses for not calling in sick.

“Dude, you do not look well,” BDubs comments after wrapping up a meeting with a Borean governor, eyeing Etho up and down suspiciously. “You feelin’ alright?”

“I’m feeling… meh,” Etho confesses, concealing that his aforementioned headache now feels like a two-ton weight slamming on his forehead, while his limbs feel like lead. “I have Joel on duty today, though, so don’t worry.”

BDubs scoffs, as if the idea of Etho ensuring his security offends him. “Ok, not why I’m concerned, but be obtuse if you must.”

“I’m not obtuse,” Etho psshes. He’s full of shit, but he won’t admit it to BDubs. That would give BDubs the obnoxious privilege of saying I told you so , which simply cannot happen.

BDubs, whether it be out of pity or blind trust in Etho, takes his word for it for at least the rest of the afternoon, until Etho is bargaining with the porcelain throne gods and losing, vomiting what little he could muster for lunch and then some.

Sweat beads on Etho’s forehead as he tries to catch his breath, sprawled on the bathroom floor with BDubs gently patting his back, his head turned away out of respect for Etho having discarded his mask. He flushes the toilet and phases the mask back on, somewhat relieved, but the persistent ache in his stomach tells him that this isn’t over yet.

“Alright, smart guy, let me see,” BDubs chides, pushing against Etho’s shoulder so they face each other. Etho must look haggard as all hell, because a wrinkle forms in between BDubs’ brow, a telltale sign of serious concern. BDubs reaches out and presses the back of his hand to Etho’s forehead, almost cold to the touch.

“Oh my stars, Etho!” BDubs cries. “You’re getting your butt in bed, dude. You’re hotter than a frying pan.”

Feeling somewhat goofy and detached with his head swimming and every part of him aching, Etho gives BDubs a funny look. “I’ve always thought I wasn’t bad looking, but hot you say? So forward of you, Dubs.”

All the color drains from BDubs’ face. “Oh my god, he’s losing his mind too!” he exclaims. “Joel!”

Joel appears from basically nowhere, looking almost concerned himself, which does nothing to quell the nervousness slowly forming in Etho’s gut, because Joel is never concerned, much less about Etho.

“I’ll take over for him,” Joel reassures BDubs. “Let’s just get him to bed in the meantime.”

“Guys, really. I’m fi—" Etho starts before getting hit with another wave of nausea and tipping his head back into the toilet, phasing off his mask again just in time. He thinks he briefly hears Joel and BDubs whispering to each other over his retching.

From there he surrenders, letting his two friends help him back to his quarters as it sinks in that this isn’t just a little bug he can shake off. Though Etho hates shirking off his duties, he’s silently relieved at the sight of his bed, not fighting Joel and BDubs helping him shed a few of his layers and tucking him in.

“…call a medic sooner rather than later.” Etho picks up on some more of Joel and BDubs’ conversation as he settles into the blankets, not understanding how much his entire body aches until he’s sinking into the mattress with a sigh of relief. He’s so tired all of the sudden, utterly wiped and pained and miserable. A broken bone or a bullet wound is preferable to this, because at least then he’d know of an immediate solution.

He hears one of them say something directed at him, but Etho can’t force himself to grasp what the words are, just the lilt of a familiar, concerned voice. He grunts out a “uh huh,” hoping that it’s the right reply.

“Aw geez,” he heard BDubs sigh, closer to him this time. But Etho is so exhausted, the only thing he registers before falling into the dredges of sleep is a cool hand combing back his hair.

He wakes to sounds of shuffling in his room, and when Etho creaks his eyes open, he only has moments to recognize the overwhelming nausea before he rips off his mask and leans over his bed.

To his surprise, he finds a container beneath his face, catching the contents rather than the carpet below, and a familiar pair of hands holding it.

“You should be grateful I have such lightning fast instincts.” As Etho coughs and sputters, he feels a small rush of relief at the sound of Doc’s voice.

From the beginning of his tenure, Doc has been Etho’s doctor, one of the few with the knowledge of his… condition. Specially chosen by the Queen and a cyborg himself, his knowledge of the complexities of a body both flesh, metal, and a strange melding of both, made him the most qualified person to see after Etho’s health.

“I feel terrible,” he croaks, head still swimming, pounding. The blankets that had comforted for what seemed like moments before (how long had he slept? Three seconds? Three days?) are now suffocatingly hot.

“Mmhmm. We’re transferring you to a med bay,” Doc hums, taking the bucket away. “Quick scan told me all I needed to know. Nasty case of Ender fever, stage two.”

“I thought I got that vaccine.”

“It’s more effective to get it when you’re a child, as all Letotians do. Too bad you’re not from here.”

Etho groans, more from the inconvenience of having to leave his home than the concern of his health. At least here he feels like he has some semblance of control over his situation. Plus, going to the hospital means days off, which means Etho would be alone. Rarely is he ever alone these days, and when he is, he finds the silence too numbing. Add that to his dicey history with hospitals, and he has one hell of an unpleasant stay ahead of him.

Doc, however, doesn’t care about this a bit, nagging Etho into sitting up slowly, claiming that his ride is just outside. So Etho obeys, slipping on another mask and letting the doctor take on some of his weight as he tries to get used to the world in an upright position.

“His Majesty?” he asks, hoping that by now Joel has rearranged the guard order to accommodate his absence.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine, who do you think called me here?,” Doc promises, a strange touch of exasperation in his voice. “Your friend with the green streak in his hair said he’ll also be coming to the med bay as soon as he’s out of some meeting.”

That’s right, there’s some conference in the Perimeter system, led by Nereus to settle new trade deals. BDubs is one of a few planetary leaders to be going, and is determined to arrive before anyone else can form to make a good impression during his first meeting with the Nereans as King. Though Etho despises space travel, he was meant to accompany BDubs. He’s not sure how he feels allowing anyone else to be in his position while their King frolicks into unknown territory.

Etho grunts out an acknowledgement as Doc helps him into the flier, the short trip from his chambers already having him winded and exhausted.

He doesn’t know when he’s ever felt this weak in his life, as though tens of thousands of pounds are pressing in on him, as though the world is rapidly spinning on its axis. Most concerning is how strange and dreamlike his surroundings feel, his usual alertness gone to the wind.

The ride to the med bay and the subsequent check-in is a blur, and before long he’s lying in a hospital bed in a small room of his own, Doc collecting vitals and clicking his tongue as he scrolls through the results. He has Etho hooked up to all sorts of tubes and wires, and his pounding migraine has calmed and numbed a bit. His usual mask is replaced with a medical containment mask, engineered to prevent spread.

It’s Ender fever, they confirm, opting to keep Etho in check for several days. He mumbles out complaints, of which Doc is having none, but lets the nurses take blood and ask questions as is routine.

It isn’t for at least an hour until Etho can slip back into the thralls of sleep, if one could call it that. His brain never truly shuts off, thrown into a rollercoaster of fever dreams. Dizzying imagery, manic dream specters and babbling noise wreck havoc in his brain, and for however long he’s unconscious, once again, it simply isn’t enough. Etho’s eyes eventually peek open to see several figures in the doorway to his room.

Several nurses converse with a figure that has their back to Etho. It takes him a moment to recognize the familiar colors and shapes of a royal uniform, and the delicate, floating circlet resting above BDubs’ head. The sight of his friend is a source of momentary reprieve. Whatever conversation the King is having with the nurses, he seems to sense Etho’s wakefulness, turning around with an expectant look that breaks into a smile.

“Sleeping Beauty is awake!” BDubs exclaims, rushing to Etho’s bedside. “You’re in quite a state, buddy.”

“I can tell,” Etho groans. “S’not contagious though. Not that I care, if you get sick, I get more days off.”

“Gee, how thoughtful of you, Etho!” BDubs says, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Thank you so very much, I’ll be sure to pull the plug on you when you’re not looking.”

“I’m sick, not dying.”

“We’ll see about that.” Though it’s not possible to see through his own containment mask, Etho knows that BDubs is sticking out his tongue. It’s hard to focus in Etho’s current state, but through the fog of his sickness he can make out the crease of worry in BDubs’ brow, his clothes slightly disheveled. He worries too much.

“You need to clean up before the conference,” Etho scolds, his voice a raspy mess.

“I am gonna look spry as a daisy, and if I won’t make sure of that, I’m sure Cleo will,” BDubs vows, still relying on his big sister even now.

Pumped full of meds and still feeling like he’s just run a marathon, Etho quickly loses the strength to keep up an active conversation, instead letting BDubs ramble. They must be sitting there for a while, because at one point Doc comes in to take some blood, and a quick glance at the time reveals a late hour in the evening.

It’s after Doc leaves them that BDubs turns to leave —whether it’s to depart for the Nerean conference or just to step out is unclear— and something funny happens to Etho. A wave of distress, acute and almost childlike, washes over him. The aches, the dizziness, the drone of the hospital, whatever it is, it has him completely overcome, and in that moment, his hand darts out, reaching for the one person who can make this all actually bearable.

He catches BDubs by the wrist, feeling the strong, reliable pulse on his finger pads as BDubs freezes in place, turning back to Etho with surprise.

Etho is surprising himself too, it seems.

“Don’t leave,” he says, softer than he means to, weaker than he means to, with a quiet desperation he’s sure he’ll later find embarrassing. But so be it. He just wants BDubs to stay. Needs him to stay.

BDubs’ eyes soften, his entire face dropping into an expression that’s sickeningly sweet, but when he pulls his wrist out of Etho’s hold just so he can gently hold his hand, Etho is relieved. He sinks into the pillow further.

“I would never,” BDubs reassures with a conviction that could rival his political speeches, drawing closer to Etho’s bedside and settling into the chair next to it. “I won’t go anywhere ‘til you’re all better.”

BDubs stays. He probably would’ve been asked to leave at several points if it weren’t for his royal status. Of course no one is going to ask the King to leave, especially if his closest guard is the one who’s ill. He stays for the tests, the medicine injections, and helps Etho shuffle to the bathroom every now and then, a reliable arm slung securely around Etho’s waist. It’s all a way of saying, I’ve got you, even if he doesn’t say it out loud, and it makes Etho feel safe. Through the haze of the drugs and the residual symptoms of the infection, having BDubs there to take control when he can’t is a godsend.

And BDubs is loving, the same as he always is, except with a kind of caretaker role Etho is used to filling. He shares in every message he gets from Cleo and every political matter on his plate, keeping Etho in the know as he always does. Etho lets the stories lull him to sleep and pretends not to feel BDubs softly combing back his hair and adjusting the blankets to cover him fully. He hopes BDubs isn’t seeing him as some helpless child. To be pitied is the worst fate Etho can think of, and he’s had his chest carved open before. But maybe simply being cared for isn’t so bad.

What surprises him is finding the King asleep in one of the chairs the following morning.

His clothes are rumpled, the same uniform he was wearing last night, and he’s slumped back into an uncomfortable looking position, his mouth agape with a small streak of drool escaping his bottom lip. He looks exhausted and silly, and if Etho didn’t feel like his head was trying to explode, he’d feel endeared. Surely he was offered a bed of some kind. More likely Etho thought he would’ve been gone by now.

On the contrary, the King flicks in and out of sight for the next couple of days, keeping Etho entertained when he’s awake and off doing royal duties while Etho sleeps (which is most of the time).

Some days later Etho is discharged from the hospital and flies home with Cleo, who was the one to finally lecture BDubs into getting back to his real work.

He stops himself several times from looking out the windows of the flier to avoid any more nauseous suffering than what he’s endured the past few days, instead opting to keep his eyes on Cleo. In the very least, the heavy brain fog he’s been experiencing has mostly subsided, but he’ll be grounded to his quarters for a couple more days until his awareness goes back to its peak condition.

Evidently, the fever had him feeling pretty out of it, because when Cleo tells him what day it is, he balks. Then he does some mental math.

“Wait. BDubs was at the hospital, like the whole time.”

“Yep,” Cleo confirms with a grin. “Had to do everything I could to keep him from physically clinging to you. You two are absurd.”

Ignoring the teasing, Etho presses on, “I was sure he had a conference with the Nereans. Did he skip it?”

Cleo’s light hearted expression disappears, and something more serious takes its place. “Well… yes. He said you asked him to stay, so he stayed.”

“Dammit,” Etho groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly, he should never have listened to me in that state.”

“No, actually… actually I’m glad you did,” Cleo confesses. “I think you… well, let me just show you when we get back.”

Etho tilts his head, concerned at his perturbed they look all of the sudden, but he opts not to question it, content to shut his eyes for the rest of the trip.

What she shows him back home, however, chills him completely to the bone.

Footage of official Nerean ships under siege by marauders. Explosions blooming from within, laser fire being exchanged from back and forth, an invasion that every government ship risks from traversing through unmonitored zones.

“Shit,” Etho curses with wide eyes.

“That would’ve been our ship too,” Cleo says. “A complete surprise assault from some marauders in the Void Field. The Nerean Duke is in critical condition. Many crewmen are dead. And the kings are not pleased.”

Etho gets what they’re implying, and the fantastical odds of it all, the incredibly close call has him feeling cold all over.

“Do the Nereans blame us?” He asks instead.

“I think they’re definitely suspicious of us. I’ve been in contact since it happened. Until all the footage and data has been gathered, I think they’re looking for someone to take out their outrage on,” they say. “That’s fine. They’re scared. We’ll offer aid and assistance when the dust clears.”

“Charitable.”

“No. Necessary.”

There’s an art to being a personal guard, an instructor had once told Etho.

“You can fight well enough, react quick enough, and obey without wavering. But the key to greatness for people like us is personal stake. Those who are prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice not for their job, but because they believe the person they’re guarding is worth every drop of blood.”

It’s almost a form of worship. Devotion without end. Defense without limits. 

Etho is an exceptional guard. The best on the planet. And it’s because he could redraw and retrace the lines on BDubs’ hand from memory. He trains and trains until he sees spots, always at the height of his physical health. 

He spars with everyone who is willing, including his friends, including BDubs. Sparring is its own love language for them. Watching BDubs hold his own against him is intoxicating, a pride like no other. He knows that BDubs is more than capable of defending himself when needed.

Still, Etho is here. Etho is needed.

When the blade comes down on him, a beautiful, clean, diagonal canyon slicing beautifully through his armor with reinforced energy, Etho’s body weeps crimson. For a split second, he feels every tear in his muscle tissue, the ripping of fibers in his vital organs, the containers of his life being lovelessly torn open. He feels the parts where metal and muscle have blended. He invents a new pain, a pain for a body like no other. Then the pain is blocked, a merciful numbness his brain invents protecting him.

Etho falls like a chess piece defeated, strategically placed to fulfill his duty, cut down for the greater good. He falls to the discordant music of screaming– animalistic and anguished, but there’s nothing to be done about that now.

For a moment, Etho is sorry. This will crush BDubs. It will break his spirit and stay in his memory forever. But the alternative would be for BDubs to carry this pain. It would mean BDubs’ lifeless body on the palace floor. It would mean a life without BDubs, which would be no life at all for Etho. It would be less than nothing.

The floor rises to meet him, and he thinks. He feels.

I’d do it again.

I’d do it again.

I’d do it again.

Chapter Text

Most days, BDubs has it all figured out. Uniform pressed to perfection, circlet on upright, sharp as a tack and fresh as a daisy. Even though Cleo’s test scores are all above his own, it’s only by a few points, so he feels confident in saying that they’re both equally as smart.

Today is not one of those days.

After almost falling asleep in Lyokan Politics, pissing Cleo off three times, all while sporting a cowlick he could never get down, BDubs wants nothing more than to be left alone. But why would BDubs ever have such good luck? Life is never fair and the stars hate him. Instead, he’s stuck with an extra shadow.

“You know,” BDubs blurts out a little too loudly. Control, he reminds himself as he slows the walk back to his room to a stop. Decorum. “You don’t have to stand quite so close.”

The new guard makes a startled, embarrassed noise behind BDubs. What was his name again? BDubs guiltily wracks his brain for the memory from when his mother introduced them. 

‘This is ####. He’ll be your personal guard from this day forward.’

Damn, he still can’t remember this guy’s name. Rude, considering they’ll basically be stuck like glue until the guy tires of BDubs and quits. BDubs has had guards in the past, he knows generally how this goes, but never before has it been deemed necessary for a personal guard, not until he turned 17. With previous guards, he rarely ever saw them enough to ask their names. He’ll have to ask his sister later.

“Sorry, Your Highness,” the guard says, clearly flustered as he takes a couple steps back. BDubs cringes slightly at the honorific. Sure, he’s been Prince all his life, but as far as he can tell, this new guard is around his age. It just feels wrong.

BDubs won’t correct him yet. Guy sounds scared shitless.

“It’s fine,” he says, waving a hand noncommittally as they finally turn the corner to his beloved bedroom. Apparently this guy will be sleeping right next door to him. Ugh. These traditions are so weird.

BDubs hears nothing more from his guard for the rest of the night, granted sweet privacy in the comfort of his room. He plays on his Enchanter for a while, scrolling back and forth between games, hoping to get some sleepiness generated as the night grows later and later, ultimately to no avail.

So instead, he opts for his second favorite game. Fiddling with the tiny wires in his wrist caster, he temporarily disables the little tracker they keep in there for his safety, freezing its location to the confines of his bedroom, before slinking out into the quiet, empty halls of the castle.

He’s played this song and dance a few times before, buzzing in excitement as he keeps a close eye out for the nightly watch as he makes his way down to the vehicle hanger that tunnels all the way outside castle grounds.

It’s time for his nightly excursion to the tall forests in the conservancy.

“Your Highness, may I ask where we’re going?”

“GYAH!” BDubs squawks out in surprise, whirling around to see the same guard from earlier. He hadn’t really gotten a great look at him before, not even when they were introduced, so the silvery hair is a surprise. A jagged scar runs down the left side of his face. Sick.

At any rate, he’s been caught. All because he’s old and important enough to warrant a babysitter.

“Aha!” BDubs stumbles on his words, eager to get this guy out of here as soon as possible. “Yes! Ah, well, you see I was– well I– okay, listen.” He tries to look as casual as possible. “I know you’re like, here to keep me safe and stuff, but I’m actually going to like, head out on my own here. I’ll be fine. You can go back to bed, I’m sure you’re tired.”

The guard doesn’t move or blink. His face, which is half covered and therefore already difficult to read, is carefully blank. “Don’t worry after me, Your Highness, you won’t even know I’m here. I’m well practiced at keeping in the shadows.”

BDubs is a good, polite person, so he holds in an exasperated groan.

“Maybe you don’t understand. I’m just gonna chill out in the conservancy for a bit. Guarantee there are no enemies or assassins out there. So tonight’s your lucky night off! Go back to bed, please. Thanks.”

“Wait, the conservancy? Isn’t that technically off castle grounds?” The guard asks, the professional, vanilla lilt of his voice temporarily disappearing. Nice. He almost sounds like a real person. Too bad he can read the sheepishness on BDubs’ face. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to go there.”

“I’m the Prince, I go where I want.”

For just a second, BDubs sees annoyance flash in the guards eyes, the slightest twitch that gives him away before his face returns to neutral. It delights BDubs a bit.

The guard gives a small bow of his head, the perfect formalities back. “Your Highness, I would advise against sneaking out to the conservancy for your safety.”

BDubs just shrugs, now bored that the guard has gone back to his stiff posture and polite rambling.

“Well, I’m getting out of here, and if you want so badly to make sure I’m safe, you’re just gonna have to get on the glider with me.”

BDubs brushes past the guard, hiding a grin as he walks towards the hall that will lead him to the private hanger. He counts to five before he hears a soft sigh and light footsteps after him.

BDubs loves late-night glider rides. He loves the wind in his face, the feel of the handlebars, the soft hum of the machinery, and the way the tall grasses bend as the glider just barely touches the tips.

He was licensed to pilot a glider at age 15, but had been practicing riding on in the hangar for much longer when he could slip away from prying eyes.

Now there are prying eyes on him always, unless he’s sleeping or taking a piss. 

The prying eyes in question aren’t licensed or well versed in flying a glider, so they’re currently peeking over BDubs’ shoulder from the backseat. The guard has decided to graciously hold on to the hand bars on the side of the glider instead of holding onto BDubs’ waist, perhaps out of fear of touching the royal.

He tries not to frighten the guard on a vehicle like this, easing into the turns and not pulling any fun tricks. He’ll have to find a way in the future to sneak out under this guy’s nose, otherwise he’ll be stuck driving like an elderly person forever.

They fly over the grasslands as the trees progressively get more clustered together, until the forest is thick enough to shield them from the light of the moon.

Recognizing a particular cluster of trees, BDubs brings the glider to a slow stop, relieved that in the very least, he’s found his escape.

This corner of the forest is particularly lush, teeming with flora and fauna not often seen by humans.

“Where are we?” The guard asks, a slight tinge of wonder in his voice as he looks around. BDubs hops off the glider, pausing to see if the other boy needs help getting down— he doesn’t, landing on his feet with a much quieter grace than BDubs.

“My secret paradise,” BDubs boasts, gesturing outwards with his arm. “This place is almost always off limits. Unless you’re smart and sneaky like me.”

“It wasn’t that hard to catch you out.”

“Wh- Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve made it out here no problem every other time when I didn’t have anybody breathing down my neck,” he huffs, catching the glint of mischief in the guard’s eyes in the moonlight. So this guy does have a personality.

“And what is it you do out here?” The guard asks. Going by the question and his willingness to tease BDubs, this guy seems to have relaxed a bit, which is nice.

“I dunno. Walk around. Admire the moss. Just be.”

“Admire the… moss.”

“That’s what I said, yes.”

The guard shuffles awkwardly. “Ah. That’s… nice?”

BDubs groans obnoxiously. See this is why he prefers to make these trips alone. No one appreciates some good moss anymore, much less the beauty and magnificence of the Boreal forests as a whole.

“Just… goodness. Follow me, I’m about to school ya on the majesty of nature.” BDubs stomps off in a direction, not waiting for the guard to follow.

They make their way through the dark forest, BDubs letting a floating orb illuminate their path so that neither of them snap an ankle tripping over a branch. He leads the guard not too far from where they stopped the glider, where an abrupt drop off lush with undergrowth bows out beneath them, a trickling creek lying at the bottom.

“This here’s a good spot. Look at all this! Nowhere else in the System has trees as sturdy and big as these puppies,” BDubs rants, gesturing to the towering giants above them. “This drop off is teeming with three different species of moss, low crawling vines and grasses, and wildflowers that look good enough to eat! Don’t eat them, by the way. The pink ones are poisonous.”

“You know a lot about the plants here,” the guard comments, sounding mildly impressed.

“Of course I do, if I’m gonna rule this hemisphere I better know it damn well.” BDubs can’t help but boast a bit. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet though. Stand back, please.”

The guard obeys, stepping back as BDubs reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small metal cylinder. He clicks the button on the side, and with a snap, it extends out to its full length as a lightweight staff.

This is a party trick BDubs doesn’t get to show off often. Or really, at all. Admittedly, it’s exciting to finally have an audience. He positions his feet just so and extends the staff out as far as it can go. Then he crouches down, and with a small push, whirls around in place, staff whipping through the green underbrush around him in a circle with a whoosh!

Then he retracts his staff and stands back up, facing a bewildered looking guard.

“What was that sup—”

“Just wait a second! Sheesh,” BDubs huffs, watching the viney undergrowth with anticipation.

After just a moment, he sees a soft glow. Then another. And another. In a circle around him, about a half-dozen small lights, blue, pink, and green, glow from beneath the leaves. Then, they begin to shift from under the foliage..

Little white wisps with dainty glowing tendrils crawl out of their hiding spots like floating lanterns taking to the skies. Small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and fragile enough to be sent askew with a single breath, spore flies are native to Leto and nowhere else. The main entry hall of the palace, which is host to many tall native trees, contains a multitude of spore flies that hide in the canopy and come out to dance at night. It’s often a marvel to castle guests.

But here, out in the wild, they’re uncontained. As the handful of spore flies begin to float around BDubs, more and more spectacles of light emit from the grasses, spreading further and further from where BDubs initially woke them.

He risks a look back at the guard, feeling one part smug for his planet’s beauty, one part nervous. This is an oddly personal thing to him, waking the spores at night. He’s never shared this with anyone before, except Cleo.

The guard looks… entranced. Of course, half his face is unreadable, but BDubs can see the man’s eyes widen, the purple lights dancing off his skin.

“What are these things?” he asks, quieter than before.

“Spore flies. Never seen ‘em in person before?” BDubs replies.

“Never seen them at all.”

That gives BDubs pause. Most people he’s met on other planets at least know what spore flies are, or have seen them in pictures. Again, it’s a big topic of interest with interplanetary visitors. BDubs looks again at the guard’s face, and finds the wonder in his eyes. Unintentionally, he’s brought the guard into a brand new experience, in perhaps the best place on the planet to see them. This is special for him. BDubs just knows it.

He walks over to the guard, reaching out a hand to catch a blue spore fly, cupping it gently in his palm and bringing it between them.

“You can hold them. They don’t really mind. They sometimes fly off, but spore flies are pretty social,” BDubs explains. He waits for the guard to reach out, but the man seems almost frozen, as if doing so would be impolite. This guy. BDubs is just going to have to break him of all the formalities. He tries for a smile— not the kind he wears for diplomacy and public outings, a real smile. “Go ‘head. Put your hands out.”

The guard looks at him with wide eyes, looking the slightest bit alarmed, before he lifts his arms, cupping his hands together beneath BDubs’ tentatively. BDubs pulls his hands apart slowly, guiding the spore down into the guard’s gloved hands.

The guard lets out the smallest gasp when the spore fly settles into his hands, tiny tendrils flitting about in a sort of dance. BDubs keeps his hands hovered around the guard’s, just in case, but he steals a look up at the man’s eyes once more and finds a quiet reverence.

“This uh. This is awkward but I have something to confess,” BDubs blurts out. The guard looks at him curiously. Stars above, this is embarrassing. “Could you maybe… remind me of your name one more time? I… I forgot.”

The guard stares at him blankly for a moment. Then he bursts out laughing.

“Don’t- Don’t you laugh!” BDubs loudly protests. “Stop laughing ya jerk!”

The guard clutches his stomach, laughter coming out in squeaky, breathless gasps that might be an endearing sound if this weren’t so humiliating.

“M-my name,” the guard manages to get out between laughter, “is Etho.”

Etho! For crying out loud, he knew that! How could he possibly forget? Damn his faulty memory.

“Ah, Etho! That’s- that’s what I thought– don’t look at me like that, darn it!” BDubs laments at the dubious look Etho gives him, who spirals back into a fit of laughter. “Stars above, this is humiliating. Don’t ever tell a soul I forgot, alright? That’s an order! I’m the perfect Prince and I know everything!”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Etho manages to say without laughing at him again, bowing slightly. “Whatever you say.”

“And that’s not my name,” BDubs groans. “I told you to drop the Your Highness!”

For a moment, Etho looks pensive, panicked almost.

“Yes… B-Baron?”

BDubs’ jaw drops. In all the ridiculousness, something divine and smug creeps into his conscience. He knows he told this guy. He’s sure of it.

“Did you forget that everyone calls me BDubs?!” BDubs grins, that smugness blooming as Etho’s eyes go wide. “You forgot my name too!”

“T-technically it’s a nickname,” Etho defends weakly.

BDubs shrieks with laughter as the tables turn. “Are you kidding? You forgot your own charge’s name?! You could’a looked that up!”

“Aw snappers,” Etho groans miserably, burying his head in his hands while BDubs laughs at him. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen one of the guards this frazzled. He certainly hasn’t known any of them well enough to warrant this whole adventure. It’s fun. Bdubs likes this. He likes Etho.

“Well, Etho, whose name I remembered the whole time,” BDubs declares with a grin, “if you thought that part of the forest was cool, I’m about to blow your mind.”

In another life, BDubs would’ve been a killer park ranger or tour guide. He weaves through the forest like it’s the castle, bringing Etho to the stream, to the part where the forest canopy completely blocks out the sky. He tells him about the ways his parents and grandparents and great grandparents made it their mission to make Leto a place where its people and flora and fauna act as one. And BDubs tries to keep things brief, he tries to not ramble, but Etho keeps asking questions, he listens intently, he seems to take this genuine interest, and so the rambling continues.

“Most people in the northern hemisphere prefer greathorses just because they’re bigger and faster, but riding ‘em makes me feel tiny, so I keep around Terran horses for the most part,” BDubs explains.

“And the Terran horses don’t make you feel small either?” Etho asks, a teasing lilt to his voice BDubs can sniff out from anyone.

“No. Terran horses make me feel huge, actually, thank you very much. Though I’m sure an outsider like yourself would realize your own tininess if you rode one,” he says with a harumph. 

“Oh yes, you’re absolutely right. I forgot how small and petite I am,” Etho says, a smile evident in his tone. “An outsider like me surely has never seen a Terran horse at all, either, considering how completely unpopular they are.”

Sarcasm on the commonality of the animal aside, BDubs’ curiosity is piqued. “Say, where are you from, anyway?”

Etho stumbles a bit as they walk, making the question all the more burning, and for a moment the forest feels awfully quiet.

“I’m uh… Lyokan,” Etho says like it’s a dreadful confession.

BDubs isn’t one to hold onto ridiculous prejudices, no matter how popular they are, as his kingdom has been subject to many, but he immediately understands Etho’s sheepishness.

Lyoko has… a rocky history. A highly important history that sent waves across the intergalactic system and revolutionized technology as they know it, because Lyoko is the only place in the explored universe to possess redstone.

The Redstone War was brutal, one of many that broke out in the aftermath of the Exodus, but especially notable for how long-lasting it was, and how delicate the topic can be.

Only Lyokans fully understand the secret of redstone, which made them an incredibly deadly threat in the war. It was as though every weapon they wielded dwarved everything else in power. One Lyokan with a redstone blade was worth an army of Nereans. When the conflict settled, the peace negotiations were fierce in their own way. Who has the right to utilize redstone? To research it? To this day, Lyokans are feared far and wide, while the secrets of redstone are kept under lock and key. Though traces of redstone can be found in many technological resources, it is distributed conservatively and managed with harsh discipline.

Etho is Lyokan, and this changes nothing. But both of them know the weight his nationality carries. Even moreso, that Lyokans hardly ever leave their home planet, partially because of their own fears and reservations, and partially as punishment from the Intergalactic Council. Which makes for a few awkward questions as to how and why Etho is here.

Frankly, BDubs decides, that's not his problem.

“Oh! BDubs says, keeping his tone light. “Cool! And you… have horses there?” He’s doing his damnedest to keep his tone light.

“Yes,” Etho says, nodding with about 50% more enthusiasm than is required. “Yes. We love horses. Lots of horses on Lyoko.”

BDubs laughs, opening his mouth to swiftly and flawlessly return the conversation back to the topic of his favorite animal when something shifts on Etho’s face, his narrowed eyes appearing to focus on something over BDubs’ shoulder. In the quiet, BDubs hears a kind of rustling, not unusual for the forest at this time of night, but the noise sends Etho’s entire body into a tenser state. Suddenly he seems much larger than he was just moments before, eyes scanning the dark forest line with a thick air of tension between them.

“Uh… Etho?” BDubs questions, slowly growing concerned. “Is everything—”

In the blink of an eye, alarm crosses Etho’s face, and without warning he grabs BDubs by the shoulders and pushes him behind Etho, nearly sending him stumbling.

“Your Highness! Run!”

BDubs doesn’t even have time to look where Etho is looking before the guard whips out his blaster and fires several shots into the dark forest, illuminating the huge, charging form of a rhinecta coming straight for them.

“Oh shit,” BDubs whispers as Etho leaps into action, sprinting to their left and continuing to fire in the animal’s direction. The rhinecta lets out a furious roar and diverts its attention entirely towards Etho, to the abject horror of BDubs.

Noted by their lithe build, scaled exterior, and enormous horns jutting forth from their skulls, rhinecta are highly emotional, highly territorial creatures occasionally encountered in the forests of Leto, but mostly congregated to prairies. BDubs hasn’t been around many, but he’s had enough close-up encounters with them to know the right and wrong way to act— and right now, Etho is going to get himself killed.

“Etho, no!” BDubs runs after him, watching as the rhinecta bashes into the side of a dirt drop off where the guard was moments before, shaking its head with agitation and redirecting. Etho fires off a few more shots, unable to land one in the shakiness of his own actions, but he does meet BDubs’ eyes.

“BDubs what are you doing?! Get out of here!” Etho screams, diving in between trees as the creature begins the charge again. BDubs, however, doesn’t slow down, trying to find an opening in the chaos to de-escalate— but the creature won’t stop, and neither will Etho, and in this little valley of the forest, escape is difficult.

BDubs cries out in horror as a root catches Etho’s foot and sends him tumbling to the ground, in an unfortunate corner backed up to a dirt ledge. Meanwhile the enormous creature doesn’t let up, running much faster than BDubs can to be able to reach him in time. He puts his hand over his SOS button, about to press, when the rhinecta’s horns catch on two small trees, just feet away from where Etho is scrambling to his feet, the panicked thrashing making him cornered prey, and opportunity makes itself known.

It’s at that moment that all thinking ceases for BDubs. He pushes his body as fast as it can possibly go, until he’s dashing right beside the rhinecta, diving underneath its body and sliding to where Etho is cornered.

BDubs knows this forest. He knows these creatures and he knows his planet. And BDubs’ new friend is not about to die before he can be shown all of it.

The rhinecta is perched perfectly, struggling against the creaking trees, its largest horn, scaled and sharp, jutting out within reach. Before Etho can stop him, BDubs reaches up, struggling for a moment as the wild animal shifts and grunts, and finally runs his hand up the horn, countering the direction of the rough scales.

Like a flip has been switched, the rhinecta ceases its struggle, a massive shiver going down its entire body, before it goes completely limp and finally falls to the ground with a resounding thud .

With the rhinecta suitably pacified for the next few minutes, the loudest sound in the forest is the two young men breathing heavily, adrenaline still buzzing in the air.

Etho’s voice is shaky. “Wh- what…?”

“It’s asleep,” BDubs answers him immediately, trying to suppress the tremble in his fingers. “It’s an old trick with the scales. Triggers a strong parasympathetic response. Boom, out like a light.”

“Stars,” Etho whispers, still terrified. “It was going to kill us.”

“It was going to kill you,” BDubs corrects, turning around to face Etho. He doesn’t really know what the protocol is for comforting a guard, so he keeps hands to himself, and hopes reassuring the new guy is enough. “You made the best call you could with your limited knowledge. Rhinecta’s can be kinda territorial, but the key is to stay as calm as possible. Which is obviously kinda hard to do.”

“You saved my life,” Etho says flatly, shaking his head a little in disbelief. “That’s… it’s supposed to be the other way around.”

BDubs breaks out into a smile. He can hardly believe this guy. They’ve been around each other for a couple weeks and only gotten to know each other for maybe an hour, but there was no hesitation on Etho’s part to go gallivanting off into the forest to lead a rhinecta away. Curiously, there was no hesitation on BDubs part to go after him either.

“You can make it up to me,” BDubs says. “Plenty of people love to try killing royals. Just you wait, buddy.”

BDubs decides that maybe tonight isn’t the night to introduce Etho to a rhinecta and show him how much they actually love scritches under the chin, so he leads them both back to the glider, assuring the poor guy that even though his response to the rhinecta was entirely incorrect, it was within what anyone would expect him to do— attempting to remove BDubs from the source of the danger. For as much as BDubs feels like he knows Etho better now, the guy is definitely still suffering from New Guy Insecurity, worriedly apologizing several different times.

“Maybe next time we’ll come when it’s light out. Way easier to see giant megafauna that way. We can just wait for when my mother is out on a diplomatic trip or whatever,” BDubs rambles, unanchoring the glider from the ground only for a light to catch out of the corner of his eye.

“Is that another megafauna?” Etho asks, pointing to what over BDubs’ shoulder. BDubs turns around to see the light better. Not just one light, either. Several more make themselves visible coming over the hill, which BDubs slowly recognizes, with a sinking feeling, as glider headlights.

“Might as well be,” he grumbles, dreading the fast approach of their entourage. Dammit, they’ve been caught.

He knows what to expect from this. Guards out of their mind with worry, either his mother or an advisor chewing him out for being reckless, and an embarrassing ride back home.

What he doesn’t expect is the blurring glow of a holonet coming directly for them.

BDubs only had about a half second to panic over this actually being an ambush and attempt on his life before the holonet crashes into Etho and sends him sprawling to the ground, glowing cuffs forming around his ankles and wrists. BDubs yells, alarmed, and his confusion and panic only swells at the sight of guards in uniforms jumping off the gliders, the familiar voice of Thetis, the head guard ringing out.

“Stay on the ground! Do not move!” Her voice booms over the plains. “Your Highness, get behind me!”

As the other guards come charging in, presumably to take Etho away, BDubs only now understands what they think is going on.

“Stop!” He cries, putting himself between the guards and Etho, but they walk right past him.

“Please get on my glider, Prince Baron,” Thetis says gruffly, gently taking his arm, but BDubs wrenches it away, panicking.

“Stop! He wasn’t kidnapping me, this is insane!” BDubs yells.

“Your Highness, we received reports–"

“I don’t care about your reports!”

“That’s enough. All of you.” A commanding voice cuts through the noise, perhaps the voice BDubs wants to hear the least, because this means he is officially dead.

The Queen walks through the long grasses with the same grace she embodies walking across a marble floor, hands clasped together, shoulders straight, all the dignity and authority of a global leader, even in her night robe.

BDubs is on the receiving end of a significant look that tells him that he’ll be lectured in private at another time, before his mother turns her attention to the head guard.

“Thetis. For goodness sake, uncuff that boy, we are not mindless brutes.”

Thetis bows, and though it’s hard to see in the dark, BDubs imagines that she’s flushing from embarrassment. “Apologies, Your Majesty. Right away.”

The Queen nods and addresses the other guards. “The rest of you, spread out and do a quick security check of the area. Argo, check the Prince for injuries, please.”

A chorus of ‘Yes, Your Majesty’ comes from every guard’s mouth before they immediately take to their orders. BDubs is annoyed and irritable as Argo peppers him with questions, giving him a once-over with a light orb, and worrying over the little scratches from the scuffle with the rhinecta, which BDubs is purposeful not to mention.

Over Argo’s shoulder, however, BDubs can see that Etho has finally stood up— because he’s been approached by the Queen. He’s folded into a perfect bow, head tucked down as if in surrender, and the Queen is talking too quietly for BDubs to make out what she’s saying.

He doesn’t care to strain his ears from the sidelines. If there’s anything BDubs has learned from tonight, it’s that Etho takes on way too much responsibility for things out of his control. In addition to the high standard guards are held to, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he were getting fired right this moment, and BDubs will not have that.

“It’s not his fault!” BDubs plants himself firmly in between Etho and the Queen after sprinting over, feeling more or less the same way he had protecting Etho from the rhinecta. “Don’t put this on Etho, it’s not his fault!” he cries. “I was the one who snuck out and took the glider. I was the one to take us here. He tried to stop me every step of the way, and when my stubborn butt wouldn’t go back to bed, he did the right thing and stayed with me to ensure I’m safe. It was just my fault, he did everything right!”

“Baron—“

“You can’t get rid of him, Ma. He’s good, he’s really good!”

“Baron,” his mother presses, putting her hands on BDubs’ shoulders. Her voice is still stern, but there’s also something akin to amusement there too. “I wasn’t firing him. I was asking if he was alright.”

BDubs opens his mouth, then shuts it, feeling surprised and perhaps a little silly. “O-oh. That’s good. Yeah, that’s good.”

“And you? Are you hurt at all?”

“No!” BDubs says.”No problems here.”

“Good,” his mother smiles. “Now you’ll have to tell me all about this absolutely brain dead idea of yours to go sneaking out to the conservancy barely attended in the middle of the night while I mull over your punishment on the way back.”

Oof. BDubs gives her a sheepish smile as she turns around to regroup with the other guards.

“There go my chances of ever sneaking out again,” BDubs mumbles to Etho. “They’ll be putting a heat tracker on me for sure now.”

“Mmm. There are easy work-arounds for those,” Etho grunts in response.

BDubs looks at him, an inkling of delight stirring within. “So there is a rebellious streak in you. I shoulda known.”

Etho casts his eyes upward, feigning innocence. “I don’t have a clue what you’re saying.”

Once the area is deemed not compromised, the group remounts their gliders for the journey back. In interests for his safety or whatever, BDubs is banished to the back passenger seat of Thetis’ glider, with another guard driving Etho on the glider they took to get out here. BDubs physically feels his ego being damaged.

But in the very least, as they fly back towards the castle through the night, BDubs gets a look at what Etho is like on the back of a glider— hair tossed in the wind, more relaxed in his seat than most first timers, and the tiniest glint of playfulness in his eyes when they meet BDubs’.