Work Text:
“Okay then, hot shot. How ‘bout you put your mocha where your mouth is?”
(art by @sugarcubees.bsky.social)
[00:00]
Walking into her husband’s study, Tor’s head spun seeing the mountain of paperwork piled atop nearly every flat surface. Even with the both of them being nearly two metres tall, she still had to get up on tiptoes to catch a glimpse of his blonde mane seated at his desk and walled in on every side by stationery and reference books heavy enough to serve as bricks.
“Hey Puddin’. Thought I’d bring you something caffeinated and piping hot to help keep the gears a’grindin’,” she said as she wound her way through the labyrinth Leo had constructed from the door to his desk.
“Ah, thank you, my sunshine. It’s like you can sense my energy levels plummeting from all the way across the house.”
Tor beamed at the praise. Taking the cup from her tray, she set it on the desk beside his writing mat and leaned in to peck him on the cheek.
“Sorry to leave all the housework to you while I get to have all the fun.” Leo patted one of the many paper stacks with a tired smile.
“It’s okay. Emergencies happened, and a king must rise to the occasion. I know you and Ky will figure it out, though.”
“Aren’t you forgetting a king?”
As though triggering a deeply rooted instinct, Tor’s pupils contracted into pinpricks, her ears twitched, and her sharp teeth were on full display as she gave a decisive, “Nope!”
“R-Right.” Picking up the cup, Leo raised it to his lips to take his first invigorating sip. As the drink’s bouquet hit his nose, however, he flinched back; not in disgust, but merely in surprise. Looking in, he noticed that the liquid was not the rich nut-brown that he expected, but rather a deep, earthy green. An investigatory sniff confirmed his suspicion.
With a chuckle, he set the cup back down without having taken so much as a sip.
“I appreciate the thought, but tea isn’t going to get me through all these preparations in one night. What I really need is some coffee.” Rising from his chair, he crossed the office to a modest side table. On it lay an antique burner plate that had been converted from using electricity to being magic-compatible, as well as a carafe and all of the fixings one could need to make a proper cup of joe.
“Huh?” Tor cocked her head to the side, a hand resting on one hip and her serving tray on the other. “But it’s matcha! It’s got all the caffeine you could possibly need, plus loads of other healthful stuff. Like antioxidants. And chlorophyll! And since it’s got a little less caffeine than coffee, you can keep drinking it all day - or I guess all night in this case - to keep a steady, boosted level of energy without hurting your tummy or getting the jitters! Isn’t that exactly what you want right now?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Leo said over his shoulder as he measured the perfect amount of beans into the grinder. Slowly turning the crank, he savoured the aroma as the beans cracked open. “You make an amazing cup of tea. But what I‘m going to need is that burst of focus and clarity that only coffee can provide. Granted, it does demand a more mindful balance to most effectively ride the line between boon and bane, smooth sailing versus overdoing, but it actually harbours a most ingenious built-in timer. I’m sure you would agree that the secret to good work ethic is knowing to pace oneself.”
“Well, yeah. Otherwise you’ll hurt yourself or burn out.”
“Precisely. When drinking coffee, the initial bust of caffeine mellows over time to a recognizable lull that marks the perfect time to take a short break, stretch, and brew the next cup. This naturally-guided schedule affords the ideal mix of intense productivity interspersed with rejuvenating rests.”
Adding a dash of cream, Leo toasted his wife with a wink. The yokai’s ears flattened back against her head as she scowled back at him. Snatching the cup of matcha from his desk, she marched up to him defiantly.
“Okay then, hot shot. How ‘bout you put your mocha where your mouth is?”
“Oho?”
“We’ll both pull all-nighters using our drink of choice to power through. We’ll see who can get all of their work done on time without getting sloppy or conking out!”
With a confident smirk, Leo held out a hand to shake on the bet. Tor snarled and bit down on it, though not hard enough to break the skin.
“Then it’s settled!” the king announced, taking his wife’s playful gnawing as an accord. “May the best means win!”
***
[01:00]
“Aha!” After combing through enough obtuse, historical records that he felt qualified to give an entire lecture series on them, Leo had finally found the terms of the treatise he’d been looking for.
Screeeeeech~!
Setting the book down carefully amidst the clutter of his desk, Leo set a paperweight between the relevant pages. They were browning along the edges and redolent with the scent of vanilla and almonds. It was little wonder that a good cup of coffee complimented the joy of reading.
Splat!
Taking pen in hand, he began the tedium of copying the treatise word-for-word over to his notes.
Scratch, scratch, scrrrrratch-
When the foreign delegates arrived for talks, it would be crucial to have this info at their fingertips. Having to flip through hundreds of pages of reference material or packing all of the relevant books into the conference room with them would not be a good look. To ensure its success, a spirited and decisive proposal in Illyria’s favor would require-
Plop!
Leo slammed down his pen.
“Where the hell is that racket coming from!?”
Initially, he’d attributed the odd skittering overhead to an owl or raccoon, but the din had gradually grown to a cacophony that threatened to derail his concentration entirely. Throwing open the office’s window, Leo stuck his head out and turned to look at the roof, ready to scare off whatever industrious nocturnal critter had decided to join him in burning the midnight oil uninvited. Scanning the roofline, he spotted a small, shadowy form sailing through the air. Following its trajectory with his eyes, he realized a second too late that it was headed straight at him.
Plop!
“Ugh…” Wiping the stinking mass from his face, he found his hand full of wet, rotting plant matter. “What the hell is this?”
“Huh?” Tor’s head peeked over the edge of the roof inquisitively. “Gettin’ some fresh air there, Puddin’?”
“Tor? What are you doing up there?”
“Cleaning, duh. What does it look like I’m doing?” Tor gestured to the ground below them. Looking down, Leo noticed a line of raked-out gutter refuse tracing a line around the house, presumably indicating the progress she had made thus far.
“It looks like you’re making a smelly mess. Why are you bothering with the gutters right now anyway?”
“So they look nice for our guests!” The yokai pouted, as though being forced to justify the most obvious, basic thing.
“Tor, my sunshine, no one but you regularly goes onto the roof recreationally. No one is going to see them.”
With a sigh of exasperation, Tor leapt elegantly from the roof and landed in the grass on one foot. “Well, they’re gonna be missing out on one incredible view. What’s the point of coming over so early in the morning if they aren’t gonna watch the sunrise?”
“The point,” Leo said, massaging the bridge of his nose, “is that we have an emergency delegation arriving in two days and need to have a cohesive plan by the time their planes touch down!”
“Then what the heck kinda cleaning did you want me to do?”
“Things they’ll actually notice: dishes, carpets, linens, curtains, floors, dusting. Those sorts of things. Inside the house.”
“Ugh. Fine, fine. I can handle that. Gonna need another cuppa, though.”
As Tor marched off with her hands folded lackadaisically behind her head, Leo shouted after her, “Don’t just leave this leaf goop all over the lawn!” And when her only reply as to wave flippantly without so much as a second glance before moseying around the corner towards the back door of the house, he just had to trust that she would come back for it when she was done with her tea.
Letting out a long sigh, Leo shut the window. Picking up the ornate, wood-and-brass clock on his desk, he was vexed to see that so little time had passed since the beginning of their crunch contest. Turning on the burner before leaving the office to wash the remaining leaf refuse from his face, he consoled himself with the anticipation of his second cup of freshly ground coffee.
***
[02:30]
Setting down his pen to crack his knuckles, Leo fought a yawn and lost. Stretching his jaw, it gave a satisfying crack as well. Checking the clock, he noted that he still had about three and a half hours before Ky and Daryl arrived. Doubtless they would have their own proposals in hand, but Leo refused to be shown up on his own turf. Not if he could help it.
Still, he was quite satisfied with the progress he had made thus far. Getting up from his desk, he stretched from head to toe, strategizing his next line of research even as he counted out the seconds that he held each position. He had enough time; he just needed to use it wisely.
Stepping out of the room, Leo walked the length of the darkened hall. His footsteps were the only sound as he marched from where his office sat in the middle to the far end to get his blood pumping. Taking a slow, deep breath, he stopped to look out the lone window in the terminal wall and take in the calm of the moonlit night.
And there was his beautiful wife, the sunshine of his heart, kneeling at the edge of their jacuzzi. As the water roiled and bubbled, he watched her grab a box of dish soap in one hand and a box of laundry soap in the other. She dumped the contents of both into the water, the powder mixing and sparkling in the moonlight until the water had turned a thick, foamy shade of green. If it weren’t for the suds, he might have mistaken it as a cup of tea scaled up enough that she could offer it to Daidarabotchi.
The yokai reached into a pile of cloth and dishes mounded up on the grass behind her. Pulling out a long, cream-colored tablecloth, she folded it neatly to about three-fourths her own height, then wrapped it around her body as though preparing to don a kimono. Napkins were then unfurled and wrapped around her forearms where she normally equipped her bracers.
Next to be shed was her okosozukin. Her cute, nubby ears twitched as cool night air blew over them. Tossing her head wrap aside, she grabbed one of the curtains from their foyer out of the pile and went through the process of wrapping and tying it on as a replacement. This done, she stood to her full height, a ghostly beauty gowned in whites. With the grace of a dancer, she leapt into the jacuzzi and disappeared beneath the warm foam.
Before the king’s very eyes, the flow of the water shifted from chaotic bubbling to swirling, as though Charybdis itself had been captured inside of a giant washing machine. Tor breached the surface and swam in circles around the edge of the jacuzzi, forcing the flow of water into a vortex. Diving below the foamy surface, she then leapt into the air, twisting around before diving back into the water. As the current drew her along, she reached out and grabbed a china plate from the pile as she passed. Floating on her back, she rubbed the dirty plate against the tablecloth wrapped around her torso.
Turning away from the window, Leo marched back down the hall towards his office. His blood was now certainly pumping, so full to bursting was his heart with love for his wife. There was also a distinct hint of terror, which he promptly tamped down with his third cup of coffee of the night and the crushing weight of all the financial reports still awaiting his review.
***
[04:00]
Wiping the sweat from her brow onto the cool, wet napkin still wrapped around her forearm, Tor stepped back to admire the rug she’d just finished beating clean. Being the one that ran the entire length of their main hall, the low branch she’d hung it over hadn’t been anywhere near high enough to hold the entire thing aloft. But by shimmying it over section by section as she went and letting it fold into a neat pile on the other side, she’d managed to get the job done.
Squatting down, she grabbed the two squirrels and four rats she had caught while working outside and held them in her teeth by their tails. Shaking her head to be sure she had a good grip, she then scooped up the pile of rug in her arms and headed inside.
‘These’ll make great snacks for everyone,’ she thought. “Ki ki ki!”
As she chuckled at her own cleverness, the morsels slipped from her mouth and tumbled onto the hardwood floor with a thud, leaving a large splatter of blood behind as she snatched them up again.
“Aw… Eh. Oh well. I needed to mop the floors anyway. But first: more tea!”
Dropping the folded carpet into a corner to keep it out of the way until she could put it back, Tor headed into the kitchen. With the maid on holiday, she’d had to brew her own tea in addition to doing all the cleaning. But that was okay; it meant she could make it as strong as she liked.
Hanging her game over the sink, she washed the blood from her hands before pouring her fourth cup of tea. Sitting on a stool, she enjoyed a brief break as she sipped the delightfully bitter matcha. In a mere four hours, she had managed to clean the dishes, curtains, table dressings, and rugs. She’d even thought to wash one each of her and Leo’s nicest outfits to wear for Ky’s visit.
Not wanting to bother Leo and not knowing where the maid kept the drying lines, she’d had to settle for just hanging everything over any door, chair, and side table she could find to dry; but there would be plenty of time to collect it all again before the meeting. The curtains being able to hang dry back on their rods was one less thing she’d have to worry about.
Setting her empty cup in the sink, Tor pumped a fist in the air.
“Awright! Let’s do this!!”
Slamming her arms down onto the tile floor, she took off through the house at top speed. Zooming about the halls, she pushed her wet napkin bracers along like a turbo-mop. Passing over the mess she’d made earlier in the foyer, she made a mental note to give it a second pass when the silk-blend cloth failed to do anything more than smear the blood along behind her.
As she passed by Leo’s office, she saw him - his face blank and palid as he observed her progress - slowly close the door. Tor smirked to herself; he knew he was beat.
***
[04:30]
Leo’s eyelids drooped as he turned another page of the penultimate report in his queue. Shaking himself awake, he grabbed his cup and swallowed down the cold dregs of his fourth cup of coffee. In the last hour, it was as though all of the momentum he had built up earlier in the night had slammed into a brick wall. Even so, with the absolute messes he’d witnessed Tor creating for herself, there was no way she could catch up to his finely-tuned work ethic. He had their little contest in the bag. He just had to hold on a little longer.
***
[05:00]
Tor’s foot slipped as she made the final turn back into the kitchen. Bracing herself on the doorframe, she struggled to her feet as she caught her breath. She had made two passes over every damned floor in the house; one to wash and one to dry.
Grabbing the teapot from where it was staying warm on the stove, she shoved the spout into her mouth and threw her head back. Empty. She snatched the can of matcha powder from the cupboard and, knowing there was no time to spare, shoveled two scoops of the dry tea straight into her mouth. Chewing it thoroughly as it made a thick paste with her spit, she loaded up her arms with semi-dry dishes from where she’d spread them out across the prep counter. They’d dried faster than the linens, so she would set the table first to give the cloth a little more time to catch up.
Stumbling back out into the hall, she swallowed the bolus of matcha paste that had formed in her mouth. It would need to get her through the final stretch. She refused to trip so close to the finish line.
***
[06:00]
Ky checked his watch.
“Ring it again,” Daryl ordered from behind him.
“We’ve already rung it three times. They say the definition of insanity is-”
“Yes, yes. Hmph. What’s taking that oaf so long? Surely even he grasps the urgency of such a matter.”
“I’m sure he does. It was incredibly short notice, though. Let’s give him just another minute.”
The seconds ticked by as the two kings waited awkwardly on their fellow regent’s doorstep. Somewhere, a bird sang cheerily, but it was the closest thing to a welcome they received.
“Seriously. Did that lug forget?”
“Leo? Forget a chance to hear us tell him how lovely his house is?” Ky gave Daryl a patient smile. “Doubtful. Maybe they just can’t hear the bell?” Trying the door handle, he found it locked. “I suppose that makes sense.”
Daryl looked at the windows on the front of the house and scowled.
“The curtains aren’t even drawn yet. Are they even awake?” Suddenly, his eyes narrowed as a thought clicked into place. “Wait. Do you smell that?”
Ky sniffed the air. “It’s mild, but…I guess there is a hint of something rotting?”
“What if something happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about how important these talks will be for Illyria’s future. If an ‘interested’ party didn’t want them to go forward, then taking the three of us out would certainly be one way to accomplish their goals. An ambush could easily await us within.”
Ky froze. Why hadn’t he thought of that? It could explain the smell of decay and the drawn curtains as well as Leo’s tardiness to a meeting at his own home. It was entirely possible that they could have walked directly into a trap if the door hadn’t been locked.
“It’s not impossible,” he whispered cautiously, weighing their options. “Should we call for backup?”
“No. Whether or not we’re right, making a spectacle of this could draw unwanted attention. Besides, there simply isn’t the time. Having thwarted their element of surprise, you and I should be more than enough for any would-be assailants. Furthermore, if they’ve captured Leo alive, we should act quickly rather than giving them the opportunity to escape with him in hand.”
“You’re right. That would greatly compromise state security.”
“Well, that, yes.” Daryl crossed his arms obstinately. “And also, Leo’s damned dog of a wife would end up burning down half the country trying to find him.”
Ky scowled. “While I agree that Tor can let her emotions get the better of her, I’ll thank you not to use such crass language to refer to one of Illyria’s queens.”
“Hmph. Sincerest apologies, your highness,” Daryl snarked drolly.
Taking a breath, Ky ran through the layout of Leo’s manor house in his mind, trying to determine their best option.
“I think our best bet will simply be a lightning-fast, head-on assault.”
“Fine by me.” Daryl drew his sword and waited to move.
“3, 2, 1, breech!”
Bursting through the front door, Ky held the Thunderseal aloft, eyes scanning the foyer for enemies lying in wait. Rugs and other cloth were strewn haphazardly about every surface and corner, as though an intense struggle had taken place just inside the door. Ky brushed aside one after another with the tip of his sword to ensure no enemies lay in ambush beneath their cover. Yet the only face that looked back at him was an austere painting of the Second King glowering down from the wall.
“Clear.” Moving forward, Ky was stopped by Daryl’s hand on his shoulder.
“Wait. Look.”
Ky followed Daryl’s eyeline to the floor. His heart stopped dead in his chest at the sight of blood, smeared across the hardwood floor from the door and leading further in.
“We need to hurry.”
“No.” Daryl shook his head. Before Ky could argue, however, the second king added, “Listen.”
Slowing his breathing, Ky picked up a deep, rumbling growl emanating from further in.
“What in the world is that? A Gear?”
“Perhaps they brought one as a weapon, to fight fire with fire. Only one way to find out.”
As a unit, the first and third kings moved swiftly through the manor, following the terrifying snarling as it grew louder and closer. Pressed against the wall of the grand central hall, they could hear it coming from an open door just ahead. Exchanging a nod, the two leapt forward in tandem, swords raised to meet whatever threat awaited.
However, as they took in the scene in front of them, the tension was shattered by disbelief.
At the conference table sat Leo, leaned back in his chair, arms draped limply behind him over the back, and his hairy, bare feet crossed on top of the table in front of him. In the center of the table, Tor lay curled in a ring, her face buried in her knees. All around her, stacks of paper and reference materials were arranged in what Ky immediately identified as a map of the capitol city. Atop these stacks as well as carefully set between them were empty cups, saucers, and spoons. The positions of the various tableware seemed to suggest defensive postings or roadblocks. Crude as the presentation was, Ky could see the vision of whoever had laid it out and how thoroughly they had already workshopped it in miniature.
Leo let out a horrendous, jarring snore.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Daryl sneered.
Picking up one of the cups, Ky checked its remaining contents. A pleasantly nutty aroma greeted him upon investigation.
“This is the brand of coffee Leo drinks,” he concluded.
“Half are coffee. The other half are some variety of bitter green tea.”
Ky smiled at Leo, his head lolled back and mouth open wide enough to attract bats.
“Hm. Well, it was a very last-minute scheduling, after all.”
“How irresponsible.”
“Leo’s greatest asset has always been not knowing when to quit.”
“It is also his greatest downfall.”
“Why don’t we relocate to the dining room and get started? I’m sure he’ll join us when he wakes.”
Taking their leave, Ky shut the door behind them gently.