Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He remembers the event all too well, as if it were chewed gum in his unruly hair.

He remembers when his love was taken by those beasts, taken to that monster - that stupid wizard. The same wizard that the king is currently buying monsters from.

He remembers when he saw his love again, the hope he felt that he was okay, the horror when he realized what had happened. The wizard had turned his love against him, turned him into one of the monsters.

He remembers that someone had gotten a lucky shot and broke the knight’s mask right in half, the fight had gotten worse at that point. His love took out most of the army stationed there.

He remembers that his love’s movements were more like a stringed puppet than his usual grace, no doubt that he was being puppeteered by that wizard.

He remembers when the strings were cut. The legendary Galaxia plunged through the chest of the one he loved the most. He laughs bitterly at that, both of his old friends had been killed due to the sacred blade.

He remembers the blood pooling around them. The blood of his love coating the ground. He recalls that soldiers had been afraid of the “new” horns and wings, the two wings, he recalls that the other two were torn off, probably by that damned wizard.

He remembers finding the dimensional cape on his bed. He had gone through it, emptying it of all the notes and assorted trinkets his love had stored within it. He looked at the swords hanging off the wall adjacent to where he was laying, three different blades, going together like those of the three musketeers. His sword in the middle with his old friends’ on either side, there was a ring hanging off of his love’s golden blade.

He recalls finding a couple of rocks in the cape, his friends had always enjoyed giving him rocks whenever they went on missions, oh how he misses that now. The kid has given him a couple of rocks, he’s quite similar to the knight he adored oh so much. There had been a warning on a note in the cape, saying that the wizard was working on something, something big. He’s pretty sure that the project had been the young star warrior.

He looked at his mantle, sitting on top there were the halves of his love’s mask and the tiara, which he remade from scratch, of an old friend. He hopes that if there is an afterlife that they’re having a good time, doing whatever it was they did in their freetime.

He heard a light knocking coming from his door, “poyo. . .?” came the small voice.

He shoved himself off of his bed and trudged to the door, “what is it this time, Kid?” he asked while opening the door. He was surprised to see the kid with tears streaming down his little face, “woah, kiddo, what’s wrong?” he asked as gently as he could, kneeling down to wipe the tears off the kid’s face.

“Poyo. . .poy-poyo. . .” The kid babbled while tightly hugging the older star warrior. He lightly stroked the young one’s hair while he babbled incoherently into his chest.

He scooped the kid up into his arms, and stood up, “do you want something to eat, Kirbster?” he carefully asked the kid, who lightly nodded in response, the kid looked ready to fall asleep right in the older star warrior’s arms.

He walked to the kitchens, all too used to making midnight snacks for others, mostly his old love. He opened the large doors to the kitchen, and tried to put the kid in a chair, but he was firmly stuck around the warrior’s torso. He grabbed a small cup, and a cutting board. He went through the fridge, grabbing some berries and yogurt. He chopped the fruits and put them with the yogurt in the cup, grabbing a spoon from where they were kept, then giving the finished parfait to the kid, who actually took bites instead of just inhaling it.

He fondly recalls making parfaits for his love, who crept through the halls and ate them in secret in the middle of the night. It took him a bit to break that habit when his love died.

When the kid was done with the treat he threw the cup in the sink, which already had a pile in it, then trudged to the library. Might as well read a story to the kid (also there was a particularly comfortable chair he liked).

He hadn’t even gotten halfway through the story, some book about a princess in a tower or something, before passing out like the kid had moments prior.

. . .He recalls having a pleasant dream that night.

Chapter Text

He wished and wished that the scene would leave his mind, to let him have a peaceful night. It was as if it was a wad of gum stuck in his unruly hair. He would not get a peaceful night until it was cut out, until that damned wizard was dead and buried .

He should have done more. How could he call himself a protector if he couldn’t even save the ones he cared the most for. . .? Neither of them deserved their unjust fates, he should’ve done more .

He remembers the night when his love was taken, he remembers when his best friend was stabbed from behind. Both of them murdered by the stupid wizard. The same wizard the idiot of a king was currently supporting.

At least with Garlude it was over and done with. The nightmare of a man had taunted him with a hollow puppet of his love.

Even with being a puppet for the wizard, his beloved had taken out a good majority of the army that was there, even with his mask broken in half on the battlefield.

It was clear as day that he was turned into nothing more than a puppet for the man, lacking his usual grace, moving more like an unwilling puppet on strings, eyes flickering between a beautiful gold and a bloody red.

When the metaphorical strings were cut, the legendary, sacred , Galaxia plunged through his love’s chest in a moment of weakness, an ugly image that would haunt him for the rest of his nights. 

There had been blood coating the ground in a matter of seconds, blood looking like the most lovely of midnight skies. He held his love as close as he could, the blood inevitably staining his own clothes. Hands feeling the scars of where a second set of wings should’ve been. He remembers the feeling of endless tears falling down his face.

His beloved had returned to the stars in his very arms. He had never felt as helpless as he did in that moment, hugging himself as he sobbed. Somebody had to practically drag him back to the base.

The dimensional cape had been awaiting him, draped haphazardly over his bed, looking the same as how his love had always worn it. He had run a hand through his hair before he grabbed the cape and reached in. His hand had caught on the handle of a blade, a dagger.

He didn’t end up taking anything out of the cape, nothing he needed to, instead he closed his eyes and changed the cape to look like his own, just like his love had taught him. His eyes felt wet once more as he draped the garment over his shoulders.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

His line of sight fell upon the blades on his wall, as they always did when he couldn’t sleep. A sliver blade and two made of a gleaming gold. There were charms hanging off the blades, a sun for the silver one, a star for his best friend’s, and a moon for his beloved, he could still remember when Garlude had given them the charms. They had all shared a laugh that day.

His hand unconsciously found its way to the ring on a chain around his neck, it matched the one upon his own finger.

His gaze eventually made its way to his mantle, gazing at the tiara and the halves of a mask. He hopes that if there is an afterlife that his friends are having a good time. Do they miss him. . .?

He listened as the door to his, and his comrade’s, apartment was opened, he could faintly make out the sound of Sword’s voice on the other side of his own door. He was talking with someone, voice soft as if talking to a child.

There was a light knock on his door. He trudged his way out of his bed, and he made sure to tug on a shirt before he answered his door. On the other side was Sword and Kirby, the latter was crying. He let out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey kiddo,” He gently said to the sobbing child, kneeling down to be on the same level, “what’s wrong?”

Kirby practically threw himself at the older star warrior, babbling incoherently into his chest. Sword was beginning to look awkward, he made sure to dismiss him, the other slumped on the couch with a heavy sigh.

He rubbed shapes into the young boy’s back, muttering what he hoped were reassuring words as the boy sobbed into his shirt.

Once the tears had died down, only hiccups remaining, he asked, “do you want something to eat, Kirbster?” even if only to provide his baby a distraction from the weight of the world on his small shoulders.

This boy shouldn’t have to save the whole universe. However fate was a cruel thing when it wanted to be.

When Kirby nodded he scooped the small star warrior into his arms, standing up and then he walked out of the apartment, putting on his slippers as he passed them by.

The castle was dark at this hour, it must’ve been around midnight at the latest. He had the layout of the castle memorized by this point, so finding the kitchens was an easy task.

He quietly opened the looming door, closing it behind him. He should probably avoid the sugar . . . He went to put the boy on a stool, but for being so tired the boy kept a firm grip on his shirt. Point taken .

He looked in the fridge, practically being blinded by the light. He quickly spotted yogurt and some berries, kid liked those right? He dug around in the pantry and found some granola, that’ll work .

He gathered the things on a counter, as well as a knife and a cutting board. And a cup. Don’t think about it . He put the ingredients together as quickly as he could.

How lame. He couldn’t even make something as simple as a parfait without thinking about the past.

This time when he went to put Kirby on a stool the boy let him. He put the parfait in front of the boy as he went to grab a spoon, although that task was quickly discarded as he heard the boy inhale the thing, instead he decided to put the food away.

He tossed the now empty cup into the sink, which already had a pile in it.

“You wanna go back to your little sleepover, kid?” He asked the tired boy. The small arms around him tightened, giving him all the answers he needed. He decided to trudge to the library, lest he want to disturb Sword or Blade.

He picked up a random fairy tale, a story about a princess stuck in a tower. He had passed out not even half-way into the book, following the footsteps of the small baby curled up in his arms.

He had a pleasant dream that night.