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Chapter Text

The practice coronation did not go to plan. Though how is one supposed to prepare for an attempted coup? 

Kaboodle stood in formation, sandwiched in the middle of a row of knights lined against the red carpet that trailed across white marble floor leading up to a grand throne. Sat upon it was the prince, half curled up into a ball as a sword was pointed dangerously close to his heart. The blade was stopped only by two others, crossed together in a shaking struggle to keep the danger away.

The one attacking was Clown, Kaboodle’s closest friend, and the king’s personal jester. Whilst he was a fool, Clown kept himself busy with the blade, his skill surpassing even the best of knights.

The ones protecting were the prince’s personal guards, their swords and lives intermingled. They were brothers, both hiding their eyes behind visors they never took off. The shorter one donned a lion’s pelt, the jaw hammered into the top of the helmet. The taller one had a black cape, embroidered flames eating at the edges. Both knights were turned in, hands steady on their swords’ grip, only shaking when the jester attempted to push forwards.

“Guards!” The prince screamed, his lips twisted into a fearful scowl. “Arrest him!”

Kaboodle stood there, watching as her fellow knights swarmed around her. They tackled Clown, ripping away his sword and pinning him to the ground. Cuffs and chains bound his body together, Clown uttering no words as he was shackled. 

Kaboodle looked to the floor, listening as the chains rattled while he walked. Further and further he traveled, until the bells of his confinement stopped ringing. Kaboodle took this time to look up, noting the two knights had sheathed their swords, heads turned to the still-cowering prince. 

Prince Zam, soon to be king, was selfish and bossy. He commanded the room like it was his own, expecting the world to be handed to him on a golden platter. It was disgusting. 

His eyes were poisonous as they laid down upon her, Kaboodle’s stomach churning as he leaned in towards his guards. Kaboodle listened as he whispered silver blades, slashing her whenever there was a glance her way.

“Kaboodle?” Kaboodle’s head shot up, looking up at the knight with the flamed cape. He towered over her, but his demeanor was soft and relaxed. It would be soothing if it wasn’t for his sharp tone of voice. “Follow me.”

Kaboodle obeyed, following the knight quietly, the only sounds their heavy shoes hitting the marble floors. They walked down the hall, making their way to a decently sized room. It was a cozy interrogation room, the only furniture an oak table and chair, along with a similarly colored grandfather clock ticking away in the corner. A singular window arched along the wall just across from the single door, casting a spotlight on whomever was to be seated.

“Sit.” Flame ordered, closing the door behind the pair. Kaboodle shimmied around the table, sitting in the chair, back towards the sun that beat down upon her armor.

“You were close with the jester, weren't you?” He began, his body still facing the door before them. Kaboodle nodded.

“Yes, I am.” She replied, realizing that the knight could not see her. “We grew up together.”

The orphanage was harsh when she was a young girl. Food and shelter were scarce, the children often fighting to get their necessities. Clown was the proper fighter, while Kaboodle was the smooth talker. It was their fierce nature that alerted the court’s security of their potential.

They were both assigned as knights, learning to fight with proper weaponry and armor. Clown was a natural, with Kaboodle struggling to keep up. Clown would suddenly find himself bored of the fighting, weaseling his way into the court jester with the words he learned from Kaboodle. 

At least, that was the story the pair told to keep their true motivations a secret.

Their orphan struggles were true. They fought and lied to keep themselves above the rest, and these skills attracted the castle guards to invite them in. However, the pair held resentment towards the court, a burning hatred for the rulers that caused their harsh upbringing. And so, the pair hatched a plan.

The prince was to be crowned king fairly soon, and the two came to the conclusion it was time for him to die. After all, if the monarchy was left without an heir, they would crumble beneath the vengeful jester and lying knight.

Kaboodle underestimated just how difficult this coup would be.

“Did you know anything about this, Kaboodle?” Flame asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. Flame had turned around, hands at his side, head tilted slightly as he spoke. His helmet covered most of his face, but left from his nose to his jaw uncovered, Kaboodle was able to read bits of his expression. 

There was nothing there she could gather, and it scared her.

“No, of course not!” Kaboodle lied, though she knew how to best feign innocence. 

“Uh huh.” Flame licked his lips, pressing them together as he thought. Kaboodle watched with anxious intensity, her eyes darting around as Flame moved. He paced slowly, armor clanking together as he did. Kaboodle watched his hand carefully, watching it settle upon the pommel of his sword, keeping it steady as he walked.

“You’re a good one, Kaboodle. I trust that, but I don’t know if the prince will.” Flame finally said, turning his body to face his fellow knight. Kaboodle tensed, her heartbeat quickening in her chest. 

“I’m going to put you under the supervision of someone else.” Flame continued, hesitating slightly as Kaboodle leaned in to listen.

“I’m putting you with Mane.”

Kaboodle felt her world shatter, a rush of emotions flooding her head. Mane, the knight with a lion’s skin, Flame’s younger brother, and the top knight of the royal guard. And the one Kaboodle hated the most.

“What? Why!” Kaboodle asked, unable to help the pleading whine seeping into her voice.

“Because he’s in charge of watching the prince for the coronation. Keeping you close would be beneficial for the guard.” Flame explained. “Keeps you from running off in case you were lying.”

Kaboodle opened her mouth again to protest, but the words were stuck in her throat as Flame moved towards her. She quickly snapped her jaws shut, watching Flame grow closer, feeling the wind as he passed her by.

“I’ll grab Mane, you won’t be dismissed from this room until he gets here.”

The door shut, and Kaboodle was alone with her racing thoughts.

She let her shoulders sag, head falling forward to plant itself down upon the table. The room was silent, the ticking of the clock droning on as time chugged along.

Mane was a good fighter, Kaboodle would give him that. He had to be if he was the prince’s personal guard. He was feared and respected, nearly everything he said being followed without hesitation. But, he was blunt and stubborn, whining whenever he wasn’t given what he desired. He was bloodthirsty and a glutton for violence, leaping at the chance to slaughter those who dared get in his way. He was everything Kaboodle was, and everything she hated about herself.

The doorknob clicked, and the door swung open with a force that sent Kaboodle up to her feet. Before her was the lion, his armor mirroring Flame’s, save for the cape replaced with the pelt. His lips were curled up, his teeth sharp like fangs as he sneered at her. He was like a predator, and Kaboodle was his prey.

“Come.” Mane demanded, his arms crossed across his chest. The pelt’s tail swung, as if it was just as annoyed with Kaboodle as the man himself.

“Fine.” Kaboodle grumbled, making her way to Mane and following as they exited the room.

The pair moved silently, even more tension brewing between them compared to when Flame had led her. Kaboodle simmered in her thoughts, watching Mane walk with confidence, while she cowered behind him. 

They made it to the throne room once more, much emptier than it was when Kaboodle left. The bustling crowd of servants and knights was gone, replaced with a blanket of silence. Flame stood where he had minutes ago, his own apprentice standing beside him. Kaboodle recognized them as Squiddo, a new knight that had shown promise upon recruitment. 

It was like looking into a mirror, save for the differences in appearances. 

Kaboodle settled beside Mane, looking at the prince. Zam had relaxed, slumped in the throne, eyes closed, lips slightly parted as his chest rose and fell. He looked tired. 

All he did was sit around all day , Kaboodle thought. How could the prince be tired?

“Mane, Flame?” Zam sat up straight, his eyes snapping open as he did. “I need you to choose the guards that will keep an eye on the jester.” 

Kaboodle’s heart leaped in her throat, her own body lurching forward on instinct. She was met with a glare, and she quickly shrank back to her position. She could feel the distrust eating at her skin.

“I’ll find someone.” Flame finally said, breaking the intense silence that had fallen upon the group. “I’ll figure it out by sundown.”

“Good.” Zam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he breathed. Kaboodle felt her shoulders sag, relief that there was a brief moment she may be able to sneak her way through.

“Tomorrow, military meeting.” Zam said suddenly, his hand falling to his side as he gave both Flame and Mane a nod. “We cannot risk another breach.”

Without waiting for an answer, Zam walked briskly away.

Kaboodle stood by Mane’s side, processing the past few seconds. She had been handed the opportunity to strike again on a silver platter, and she wasn’t about to waste it now. Glancing nervously between him, Flame, and Squiddo, Kaboodle wound up the words she needed to say. Suddenly, as she glanced around the room, she was small, a scared rabbit just beneath a lion’s claws, the threat of death inches away from her neck.

“Um—” Kaboodle cleared her throat, the three pairs of eyes immediately hitting her. She flinched, but kept her voice steady as she spoke. “It’s been a long day and—”

“It’s only noon?” Squiddo piped up. 

“Well, yes, but—” Kaboodle swallowed her rage, letting it settle in her stomach as she found her words again. “—it’s been a lot of shock, for me at least. And I would like to have some rest.”

Kaboodle looked up at Mane, giving her new mentor a sheepish grin. “May I have the rest of the day off?”

She held her breath, watching Mane’s face closely. His lips pursed, before being pressed together with a drawn-out hum. She watched, hearing the gears in his empty head turn. There was an inhale, and then a heavy sigh.

“Alright.” Mane said, one hand rubbing at his lower jaw. “Just make sure you’re up early for the meeting.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kaboodle said, forcing her lips to stay still, hiding the sly smile that threatened to spread across her face.

The lion was a fool, and the rabbit could slip from his claws unscathed.

Kaboodle quickly rushed out of the throne room, winding through halls casually, retreating to a corner of the castle only the royal guard knew about. The dungeon.

Kaboodle descended the stairs, reaching the hall of cells. It was dark and damp, an oppressive place with only the occasional candlelight to guide her.

“You’re an idiot, Clown.” Kaboodle said, walking towards the cell just across the entrance. 

Sat in the cell, bound together by cuffs and chains, was the murderous jester, placed upon a cot in the corner that was now his bed. Clown tilted his head over towards Kaboodle, letting out a long sigh as he did.

“It would have gone well had those two knights been any slower.” Clown pouted.

“What did you expect? They’re the top guards, personally tending to Zam whenever he demands.” Kaboodle crossed her arms, rolling her eyes as Clown slipped out of the bed. He stood there, hands and ankles shackled together, leaving him little room to move.

“We just need to adapt.” Clown shrugged.

“It will be hard with Mane keeping watch over me constantly.” Kaboodle huffed, scrunching her nose as she recoiled from the thought. She had to spend time with Mane . “He was a fool to let me go so quickly.”

“As expected, he’s lazy.” Clown remarked. “Watching you would be too much effort, after all.”

“It’s going to be a nightmare.” Kaboodle groaned, throwing her arms up in the air.

“Look on the bright side, Kaboodle. You can get information easier.” Clown pointed out.

He was right. Kaboodle now had access to information not privy to the pair beforehand. Getting close to the prince, attending meetings he held, all to relay back to Clown to hatch a bigger, better plan. Kaboodle grinned, unable to help the snicker that bubbled in her throat.

“There’s a military meeting tomorrow.” Kaboodle said. “I bet I’ll get some good information there.”

“Perfect.” Clown sat back down on the cot, kicking his legs up and swinging them onto the bed. “I’m counting on you, Kaboodle.”

“I won’t let you down.”

Little did the rabbit know, her words would not be upheld.

Chapter Text

Kaboodle didn’t expect military meetings to be so… small. 

The room itself was grand, lined wall to wall in different maps and weaponry. A round wooden table sat in the middle, a few chairs placed around for the few that were to attend these meetings. The table was covered edge to edge by a map of the kingdom, figurines placed upon important spots in the kingdom. In the center was the castle, represented by a glass figurine molded into a lion. A mighty figure, and yet so delicate.

Flame and Squiddo had already arrived, sitting on the left side by side. Kaboodle took a seat across from Squiddo, folding her hands neatly over her lap as she waited. Mane took the seat beside her, the chair screeching across the floor. Kaboodle scowled, glaring at Mane as he plopped down into the seat. 

The prince arrived shortly after, placing himself at the head of the table, sandwiched between his two guards. Zam leaned forward, pressing his fingertips against the map. Kaboodle looked at the prince’s eyes, watching him scan the map with an intensity she had never seen before.

“Yesterday was a disaster.” Zam began, his eyes flickering up to the knights beside him. Flame nodded, Mane scoffing at the words.

“Tell me about it.” Mane grumbled, crossing his arms as he leaned back into his chair.

“Right.” Zam looked back to the map, staring at the glass lion, a symphony of colors dancing around the drawn land.

“We need to have more security in the castle!” Zam said, snapping upright.

“ No .” Mane growled, the room instantly growing silent. Kaboodle jumped at the sudden shift in tone. She glanced at Squiddo, the two lesser knights locking eyes briefly before returning to the map laid out before them.

“If we increase castle security, the borders will be free for the taking.” Mane said. He reached out, tracing a finger along the map. He stopped at a lesser-known village, Flower Field, an extremely rural part of the kingdom. “These people rely on the guards to keep them safe, it’s a village mostly made up of women and children.”

“And, Zam.” Mane turned his head to the prince, Kaboodle watching as Zam’s face softened. “Remember your promise.”

“Right.” Zam sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “Speaking of, Flame, any updates on the enemy advancement?”

Enemy advancement? Kaboodle thought, feeling her brows furrow in confusion. We’re at war?

“They’re trying to sneak around to Savannah Outlook.” Flame gestured to a village beside Flower Field, a village set in the dry and barren lands they were named after. 

“We should move some guards there.” Mane replied. “Get them there as fast as possible if they don’t stop.”

It was a long journey between the villages, even if they were beside each other. It would take a week with the usual stopping and resting, and if the enemy army was already on their way, it would be a miracle if the change in guards made it in time.

“Can we send some knights from the castle?” Kaboodle piped up, surprising herself as she looked at the prince. She watched him, his face becoming stone cold despite the fear swirling in his eyes. 

“It will leave the castle open.” Zam said slowly, trying to keep his voice as steady as he could. “Especially so close to the coronation? It’s too risky.”

“Protecting the people can prevent a riot.” Kaboodle offered. “If they see you are willing to put yourself at risk, they’ll be more inclined to protect you.”

“It’s not a bad idea.” Mane replied. Kaboodle watched as Zam’s shoulders fell, relief briefly flickering across his face. “The castle is closer to Savannah Outlook.”

She glanced between the future king and his knight, noting the trust between them. It was clear they weren’t just their labels, they were friends. Both of them were softer than she had realized, both of them were more scared than she gave them credit for.

The rest of the meeting went by without issue. Kaboodle found herself contributing more and more as the day went on, offering her own thoughts and experiences as a former citizen.

The most terrifying part of it all? Kaboodle found herself enjoying the new company.

—

Kaboodle sat at the edge of her bed, watching the moon climb up the sky. The day had been busy, even after the military meeting. Mane had sobered up, keeping Kaboodle from wandering too far away despite her many attempts. She had to admit, he was much more observant than she had given him credit for, frustratingly so.

Once the light drained from the sky, Kaboodle slipped out of her room, making her way to the dark and damp. She soon found herself at the bottom of concrete stairs, looking into the cell of her captured friend.

“Clown?” Kaboodle asked, glancing around the hall in case a guard had been stationed overnight. Her eyes found their way back to Clown, watching as he stirred from his light slumber. He was without his mask, but the night shielded her from witnessing his features.

“Hmm?” He asked, pulling himself upright as he woke. “Took you long enough.”

“Mane wisened up.” Kaboodle huffed, feeling herself slip back into resentment. “Really annoying, kept catching me when I tried to escape.”

“Surprising.” Clown commented. “He’s a glutton, never would have expected such sharp senses from him.”

“No matter.” Clown pulled himself out of bed, slinking over to the bars. “Any news?”

“They’re lessening the castle guards.” Kaboodle said, puffing her chest out. “I suggested it, and they took it without a second thought.”

“Well done, Kaboodle.” Clown snickered, and Kaboodle’s heart leaped in her chest.

Clown was not one to give compliments easily. At least, not in recent years. Ever since they arrived at the castle, Clown had become colder and angrier. It had been all Clown had thought about for years, and Kaboodle had finally pulled her weight in this plan.

Kaboodle didn’t like the stinging in her throat.

“They’re idiots.” Clown continued once his laughter died down. “All you need to do now is let me out right before the ceremony.”

“With Mane on my ass all day? I doubt that.” Kaboodle huffed, her lips downturned into a frown.

“You need to work on gaining his trust then.” Clown replied matter-of-factly.

Clown was right. He was always right.

“Of course.” Kaboodle’s head dipped, a slight bow before returning to stare directly at her friend. Darkened eyes glistened back at her, his familiar triumphant grin upon his lips. 

“Get some rest, Kaboodle. Remember, I’m counting on you.”

Kaboodle nodded, and with the weight of the world on her shoulders, she marched up the stairs.

—

Kaboodle woke bright and early the following morning, dressing herself as the sun began to rise over the horizon. She grabbed herself breakfast with the rest of the knights, sitting with Mane, Flame, and Squiddo like she had gotten used to these past few mornings. As the servants cleaned up behind them, the quartet had moved out to the fields, settling into their routine. 

The first stop was the armory, some donning their weapons and armor, others taking faux weapons to practice their fighting. 

Kaboodle watched as Flame and Squiddo walked to the sparring field, settling down in the grass beside Mane.

“Not up to fighting today?” Kaboodle asked, successfully managing to hide her judgement.

“Oh no, of course I want to spar!” Mane laughed. “I just want to watch Flame and Squiddo fight first, that’s all.”

Lazy. Kaboodle thought, but kept her mouth shut as she turned to look at the sparring pair.

Squiddo was not a great fighter. They were clumsy, unable to hold the sword correctly most of the time. Kaboodle found it painful to watch defeat after defeat.

“How long have you been Zam’s personal guard?” Kaboodle found herself asking, turning to Mane as she spoke. She watched his lips press together, his head tilting slightly as he thought.

“A few years now.” Mane replied, the knight leaning back as he spoke. “We were both still kids then, still just barely out of it.”

“Really?” Kaboodle blinked, her lips parting into a soft ‘o’ in surprise. “I didn’t know they assigned guards so young.”

“Zam was insistent he get someone close in age to him.” Mane shrugged, nonchalant about the whole situation. “I was the best, they chose me, and I was fine with it.”

“So were you born to be a knight?” Kaboodle asked, Mane nodding soon after.

“Flame and I both.” Mane nodded his head towards the other knight, Kaboodle turning to watch as Flame pinned Squiddo down on the ground once more. She couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh. Poor, poor Squiddo.

“You’re different from Flame.” Kaboodle found herself saying. She turned back to Mane, seeing it was his turn to hold a surprised expression. Kaboodle sucked in a breath, waiting for the fervent denial, or a barrage of insults against her judgement.

“How so?” Mane asked. Kaboodle’s shoulders sagged, not even noticing she had even tensed in the first place.

“Well, you’re much more—” Lazy, selfish, impulsive. “—relaxed.”

“You think I’m lazy, don’t you?” Mane asked. There was no malice in his voice, nor any accusation. It was said as if it was a fact, which Kaboodle would never outright tell him it was true.

“I never said that.”

“Eh, it’s alright.” Mane replied, turning his head to watch the spar before them. “I know what people say about me behind my back.”

Kaboodle kept her mouth shut, turning to watch the spar as well. The wind gently tugged around them, the pelt Mane wore brushing against the top of Kaboodle’s hand. Almost as if he were comforting her, reassuring her that her thoughts were okay.

“There’s no point in being strict all the time.” Mane continued. “Only stresses everyone out.”

“I can’t let Zam get too stressed. He’s got a lot on his plate, you know. The coronation has been in planning for a year, he’s been running the kingdom since the date was planned.” Mane admitted. Kaboodle turned to him.

“Really?” She asked, unable to hide the disbelief in her voice.

“Yeah, really.” Mane replied. “The king’s not the best to Zam, but there’s only so much I can do while technically still under his power.”

“So instead of fighting, you stay back?” Kaboodle’s brows furrowed, a frown tugging at her lips once more.

“I wouldn’t call it staying back. More like staying out of sight.” Mane pulled himself back up right, reaching up into the sky as he stretched. “Keeping the prince calm when he’s making the big decisions, helping him relieve stress when he’s overwhelmed, making sure he’s safe when he goes out into town.”

“Wait, what?” Kaboodle said. “He goes into town?”

“Of course.” Mane said, as if the idea of Zam sitting inside all day was preposterous. 

“Y’know, Zam made a promise to me the day he was told of his coronation.” Mane continued, leaning in closer to Kaboodle. “He told me he would never be like his father. He would be a good king, one that really listens to the people.”

“Is that why he took my suggestion yesterday?” Kaboodle wondered aloud. She watched Mane grin, and somehow, it was comforting.

The pang in her throat grew stronger, a burning sensation of guilt that was unfamiliar to Kaboodle.

“He goes out every other week, you know.” Mane hummed, as if he knew the topic had become uncomfortable for Kaboodle to confront. “He can’t always go out to the more rural towns, but he’s always willing to listen to those that find him.”

“It was his idea to start recruiting citizens to the royal guard.” Mane looked into Kaboodle’s eyes, and she could feel the warmth from behind his visor. 

“Really?” Kaboodle asked, once again unable to hide her disbelief. 

“Yeah. You’re not a half-bad fighter, Kaboodle.” Mane said, his smile still genuine. Kaboodle found Mane wore his heart on his sleeve, and in this moment, she felt she truly saw who he was.

“You want to spar?” Mane asked, tilting his head to the side. Even with his eyes hidden, Kaboodle could sense the genuine curiosity in his gaze.

“What, so you could beat my ass?” Kaboodle joked, nudging an elbow into Mane’s arm. He laughed, shaking his head. The pelt rustled along the grass, a nice trailing end as Mane stood up.

“I want to see your skills, that’s all.” Mane replied, sticking a hand out for Kaboodle to take.

With little hesitation, she took it, and was quickly brought to her feet.

Flame and Squiddo handed over their swords, settling down in the spot their friends had just left. Kaboodle stood across from Mane, shifting the sword in her hand. Once Mane was ready, she held the handle firm in her right hand, her right foot stepping forward in anticipation.

Mane stood casually, swinging the wooden sword side to side absently. He held a cheeky grin on his face, his hidden gaze steady on the one before him.

A cocky lion and a fierce rabbit who was ready to strike.

Kaboodle lunged for Mane, hoping to catch him off guard as she swung her sword up. Unfortunately, he was quick to react, managing to hold his sword tight, bringing it across his body and blocking the wooden blade from metaphorically slashing his chest. Using his other hand, Mane pressed into the wooden blade and pushed Kaboodle’s sword down, causing her to lose her balance. Kaboodle struggled to stay upright, feeling the heavy whack of Mane’s sword drawn across her back, sending her to the ground.

Kaboodle attempted to roll away, only for her shoulder to get stuck beneath Mane’s foot. She looked up, that cheeky grin still present on his lips. Kaboodle frowned, swapping the sword to her left hand clumsily swinging up in an attempt to push him off of her. Her attempt was unsuccessful, her sword knocked from her hand without so much as a struggle. 

“Really?” Mane removed the pressure from Kaboodle’s shoulder, allowing her to spring back to her feet. “That all ‘ya got?”

“No.” Kaboodle grabbed her sword, holding it in both hands to keep it steady. “I’m not done yet.”

“Bring it, rabbit.” Mane’s grin grew wider, baring sharp fangs.

Kaboodle lunged.

She swung the sword high above her head, bringing it down towards Mane. He caught it again, the force of Kaboodle’s might causing him to step back. Kaboodle’s lips twitched, a sense of pride flooding her senses as she attacked again. Her sword was drawn back, and she let go with her left hand to draw it around, swiping from below. The wood smacked together as Mane pulled his sword down, barely managing to block Kaboodle’s attack. Kaboodle smiled triumphantly, putting her left hand back to pull the sword up. It was a struggle, both putting all their strength into this stand-still. After a few moments, Mane managed to shove Kaboodle’s sword down again, though this time Kaboodle managed to keep herself upright. Her sword touched the ground, scraping up the dirt as she yanked it to her left. She raised the wooden sword high above, drawing it across her body to mimic a slash.

Mane held out his arm, blocking the sword with his leather gauntlet. He swapped his sword to his left hand, managing to jab Kaboodle’s side. She yelped, stumbling back at the pain, before tripping over her feet and falling into the ground. Mane got back into proper fighting position, drawing his sword down to point at Kaboodle’s throat. His grin was still wide, though his breath heaved from the fight.

“See? Not bad.” Mane said, dropping his arm as Kaboodle stood up once more. “With a bit of training, I can take you to the next level.”

Kaboodle gasped for air, her eyes searching Mane for any hints of a lie. Her search turned up nothing of the sort.

“I would like that.” Kaboodle smiled. 

“Great.” Mane took up a fighting stance, motioning for Kaboodle to do the same. “Let’s go.”

Kaboodle rolled her eyes, but followed without hesitation.

Chapter Text

A few days had passed since Kaboodle and Mane had sparred, and the knight had found herself enjoying each passing day. 

Today was no different. Zam spent the day tending to mundane duties, taking care of petty civil disputes, sending off the chefs to pick up food from the market. It was a busy day, one that Kaboodle no longer envied.

As the day wound down, Zam brought the knights into his personal library, Mane and Zam settling down at a table by a window. The library was cozy, a decently sized room covered wall to wall in books. A carpet made from a female lion’s pelt laid across the floor, her jaw open towards the fireplace that crackled in the background. A game of chess was laid upon the table, Mane and Zam beginning to play.

“You’re always asking about us, Kaboodle.” Mane suddenly said, turning away from the game before him to look at her. “Tell us about yourself.”

“Focus Mane.” Zam hummed, sliding his rook across the board, taking out one of Mane’s pawns. The knight pouted, turning back to the game at hand.

“Well, Clown and I grew up in the orphanage together. It wasn’t easy, we had to fight a lot to get proper care.” Kaboodle began, beginning to bounce on her toes as she thought.

“Clown… he’s kind and caring— no, really!” Kaboodle insisted, huffing at Zam’s scoff. “He looks out for me, he’s always looked after me.”

“It really— it was a surprise. It was a surprise he tried to kill you.” Kaboodle stammered, finding it more and more difficult to lie.

“That’s the jester. I’m asking about you, Kaboodle.” Mane repeated, managing to take Zam’s rook with another pawn, only for his efforts to be squashed as a bishop swooped in to save the day. Kaboodle couldn’t help but snicker as Mane whined.

“Well, I’ve always been with Clown. It’s hard to talk about myself without talking about him.” Kaboodle admitted, finding herself shrinking to her own words. Was she really nobody? Just an extension to Clown, someone to carry out his plan while he was rotting beneath her?

“Well, what do you like?” Mane asked.

“I like—” What did she like? Kaboodle pursed her lips, thinking hard. 

“I like hanging around you guys. I liked sparring with Mane. I like… being free.” Kaboodle bit her lip, looking outside the grand window beside her. The sun was descending, the blue sky painted a gentle orange and pink. “I like the sunset, too.”

“Oh, and rabbits!” Kaboodle smiled, the first genuine one in a while. “They’re my favorite animal.”

“You remind me of a rabbit.” Mane replied. Kaboodle looked back to Mane, giving him a confused look.

“Really? Why?”

“They’re pretty gentle creatures, for starters.” Mane said. “But they have a lot of energy, eager to move around. They get scared easily, too.”

“What? I’m not easily scared!” Kaboodle huffed, puffing out her cheeks in protest.

Mane’s face hardened, lips curling up into a snarl. He stamped his foot hard, causing Kaboodle to jump. 

“Wh— hey! Not cool!” Kaboodle squeaked, Mane’s face melting as he laughed.

“I’ve been thinking about the coronation date lately.” Zam suddenly interrupted, glancing up at Kaboodle as he spoke. The cheerful air dissipated, replaced with uncertainty. Kaboodle stared into Zam’s eyes. There was no distrust, but there was an air of weary whisking in his gaze.

“The coronation is being moved to just a week from now.” Zam decided. “I need it to be soon, I don’t know if the jester had anyone on the outside preparing for a coup.”

Kaboodle tensed up, looking down at the chessboard. Zam moved his queen, the click of the piece against the board ringing in her ears. Mane was in check, and she was backed into a corner.

“Kaboodle?” Zam looked up at her, no hint of malice in his eyes. Kaboodle still couldn’t help the shiver that ran up her spine as their eyes locked. “Do you know of anything?”

“No.” Kaboodle replied, shaking her head in emphasis. “Like I said, we were orphans, we only had each other.”

“Right.” Zam returned his gaze to Mane, who was struggling to figure out the right play. The clock ticked on.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

“May I be excused?” Kaboodle gasped, struggling to inhale the tense air. Both Mane and Zam looked up at her, the latter hunched over as Mane placed down his pawn, saving the king for another round.

“I just— need some air.” Kaboodle stammered.

“Yeah, sure.” Zam said, waving his hand as Mane’s pawn was captured. Backed into a corner once more, and Kaboodle ran.

She quickly slipped out of the library, racing down the halls, the sinking light from the windows making way for the ever-present shadow.

Kaboodle was slow at first, keeping herself composed as she passed by dozens of castle workers. As the onlookers dwindled, so did her composure. Her footsteps grew louder, thumping harder on the ground as she broke into a sprint. Her mind and heart raced, pulling her forward as she ran. Dashing down halls, Kaboodle barely made note of where she was. She had somehow made it to the dungeon doors, yanking them open before leaping down the stairs.

She descended, spiraling down, down down—

“I can’t do it.” Kaboodle gasped, her body lurching forward as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She found herself up against the wall, gasping for air. Her shaking gaze fell upon Clown, sat in his bed with his knees tucked into his chest. He leaned back, his head upside-down as he stared at Kaboodle.

“Do what?” Clown feigned innocence, his body twisting around. His face did not move, only rotating upright along with his body. 

“I—” Kaboodle shuddered, reminded just how creepy Clown could be. “I can’t kill Zam.”

“Oh? Now, why’s that?” Clown asked, slipping from the bed. His steps were quiet, sliding to the bars that separated the two without Kaboodle even noticing. Kaboodle swallowed her racing heart, and began to speak.

“They trust me, Clown—”

“ Good .” Clown hissed, the oppressive air that surrounded them weighing heavy on Kaboodle’s chest. “That’s the point , Kaboodle.”

“Yeah, but—” Kaboodle felt all her thoughts disappear, her eyes locked with carved out slits, the lack of emotion behind them sucking out her soul.

“Get close to them, learn their secrets, then strike.” Clown continued, tapping a pointer finger against the palm of his opposite hand. “That’s the plan, that has always been the plan, and that is what it will always be.”

Kaboodle stayed silent, feeling small under the gaze of her locked-up friend. She hadn’t felt this way for quite some time, and she was growing to hate it.

Had Clown always looked at her this way?

No, of course not. That was silly of her to think. 

So why did he look at her this way now?

“If you get the opportunity to kill him, do it.” Clown’s voice was terrifyingly firm, piercing icicles dragging down Kaboodle’s back as she shuddered under his masked gaze. She brought herself back to the present, staring at a man she no longer felt she knew.

“Of… of course.” Kaboodle stammered, unable to help the slight dip in her head at the horrifying command. 

“Good.” Clown backed away from the bars, settling down on the uncomfortable cot that was his bed. ”Now go, before the guard returns from their patrol.”

“I’m counting on you.”

The words felt heavy on her shoulders, and the guilt tied itself around her neck as she walked. The sun had long set by now, any opportunity to rejoin those that wanted to watch her sinking opposite of the rising moon. 

Kaboodle made it to her room, ripping off her armor and placing it over the stand used to store it. She flopped onto her bed, groaning as her face hit the pillow. 

Her heart felt like it was being ripped in two. Tsunamis crashed into each other, kissing and ripping away from each other, the two worlds she lived in colliding against jagged shores. Hot tears welled in her eyes, staining the pillow beneath her as she silently wept.

The rabbit was alone in her room, the dark gently lulling her to sleep. She dreamed of the lion and the jester, chopping heads and holding hearts still beating, crushing hers as she drowned in her own blood.

—

The day before the coronation, Zam took it upon himself to meticulously triple-check every single detail in regards to the ceremony. Kaboodle spent the day following him and Mane around, carrying whatever spare item was thrown her way. Last minute changes to outfits, positions of decorations, and even dishes and drinks served during the afterparty.

Kaboodle watched as Zam grew more and more stressed, his lips curling into a frown, and then turning up into a thin line, brows turned down in worry. Kaboodle watched Mane, his hands resting on the prince’s shoulders, a gentle squeeze or a reassuring tap whenever Zam began to shake.

It was a bond between them, and Kaboodle had been witness to their ins and outs this past week.

Truth be told, Kaboodle was jealous.

“I think that’s enough preparation work.” Zam suddenly declared, briefly collapsing into his future throne. A sigh of relief rippled through the room, every single staff member equally as exhausted as the one commanding them. Kaboodle handed the items she held over to a maid before walking over to Zam’s side, receiving a tired nod as she approached.

“I’m going to the garden.” Zam sat upright, glancing between the two knights that flanked him. “Mane, fetch my gear for me.”

Kaboodle watched as Mane scampered away, leaving the two of them alone.

This was it. This was her moment.

“Have you ever been out to the garden before?” Zam asked, snapping Kaboodle from her thoughts. The prince had stood up, waiting for her to follow him. 

“I have, mostly when I need to take a jog to clear my mind.” Kaboodle replied, following as Zam led her through the halls. 

“Really?” Zam hummed. Through winding halls, they made their way to an arched door, Zam opening the door and leading the pair down a set of spiral cobblestone stairs. The column was damp and moldy, stones chipped and worn from decades of usage. Zam traced his hand along the walls, each step he took in time with the dripping of leaking cracks.

“It’s a beautiful place. You should stay there more often.” Zam continued. They reached the bottom of the stairs, a door similar to their entrance being pushed open without much effort. 

Kaboodle raised a hand, shielding her eyes from the sun that burst through the clouds. Her gaze settled down on Zam, who was now beside her rather than in front. He looked up at her, waiting, before they walked together out into the garden.

The pair walked down pebble paths, each rock knocking together as they stepped, the crunch and pops in beat with the others. Green shrubs, perfectly trimmed, lined the border of the vast yard, sculpted into grand figures of exotic animals. In the center was a beautiful marble fountain, the gentle whisper of running water dancing in her ears. 

The paths converged in the center surrounding the fountain, a star pattern cut into the paths to make room for the various flora that blossomed. Each section was sorted by color, a rainbow wrapping around them as they walked to the center.

Mane stood before the fountain with a wicker basket in his hands. As Zam approached, the knight handed off the items, returning to Zam’s side once he was done. Zam tucked the basket’s handle in the crook of his elbow, motioning for his knights to walk with him.

They walked down a path, reaching a cheerful section of the garden, reds and yellows dancing across the green. Zam stopped before a rose bush, reaching into his basket and pulling out a pair of gardening scissors. 

“Wait, you tend to the flowers?” Kaboodle asked, watching as Zam inspected the flowers. “I thought there were gardeners?”

“Nope!” Zam chirped, giving a wide grin as he snipped a rose off of the bush. He held the flower delicately, his fingers gently pinching the stem between the thorns. He handed it to Kaboodle, as confident as ever, waiting for her to take it.

“It’s one of the few things I had control over as a prince, aside from beating Mane daily in chess.” The prince snickered, and Kaboodle couldn’t help laughing along as the knight pouted.

“I let you win half the time.” Mane grumbled.

“Sure, sure.” Zam waved his hand, returning to the bush before him, delicately snipping away at the loose branches and leaves. 

Here, as the sun slipped below the horizon, golden rays dancing along the prince’s caramel skin, Kaboodle saw him for who he truly was. A kid who had to grow up too fast, still young, too bright and cheerful to be placed under this pressure. A kid who was kind and careful, and yet so scared of his own power.

The moment was quiet, the garden was secluded, the perfect opportunity to strike. Kaboodle’s hand drifted to her sword, resting upon the pommel, fingers curling tightly around it as the rage of her friend scorched through her.

The thorns pricked her hand, and Kaboodle looked down at her fist. The rose’s stem was crushed, bits of her flesh poked from the flower’s defenses. 

The rose was yellow, her blood was red.

Kaboodle removed her hand from the sword, watching Zam, a hum escaping his lips as the sun fell closer. He sang to himself, a sad melody to comfort his gentle soul. Kaboodle held the rose close, the fragile petals resting against her scratched armor.

She closed her eyes, listening to the song, finding herself humming along. Here, she was at peace.

Here felt like home.

—

“I don’t know if I can go through with this anymore, Clown.” Kaboodle paced before the prison, hands locked behind her back, each clank of her armor weighing heavy on her ears.

“We’ve been over this, Kaboodle.” Clown hissed, the words like venom coursing through her veins. Her hands tightened their grip, the knight nearly tripping over her feet.

“I can’t—” Kaboodle swallowed, glancing over at the imprisoned jester. “I can’t betray Mane like that. He’s my friend.”

“Friend?” Clown scoffed, his entire body reeling as if Kaboodle had spoken the most vile thing into existence. “He’s not your friend , Kaboodle. He’s a prick, just as bad as the prince is.”

No, you’re wrong . Kaboodle wanted to say, but the pang of her teeth biting into her tongue stopped the words from spilling out. 

“Y’know, Kaboodle…” Clown hummed, the bells of his hood jingling as he slipped out of his prison bed. “Sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”

Clown made his way to the cell door, one hand grabbing at a bar, the other grabbing at another. He pulled himself close, his mask scraping against cold metal, artificial eyes boring directly into Kaboodle’s soul.

“I do.” Kaboodle gulped, hating how she took a step back.

“So, you’re still going through with the plan, right?” 

“I—” Kaboodle couldn’t let the words out of her mouth. Could she? After Mane and Zam had been so kind to her? After they had taken her in, despite suspicion, and treated her as equal? After she had spent time with people with a desire to see her, the real Kaboodle.

After she had finally spent time with the kind of people that Clown used to be.

“I can’t let you out, Clown.” Kaboodle decided as she crossed her arms, flinching slightly as metal ground together. Clown let out a laugh, his head shaking as it fell.

“I thought of that.” Clown pulled his head back up, and suddenly there was a key in his hand. “The one watching me was never the most careful of guards.”

Kaboodle tensed, her blood running cold at the sight. Even behind bars, the masked jester was just as terrifying. She was lucky he still considered her a friend, her neck ached at the thought of this fact being untrue.

“They’re still okay, right?” Kaboodle asked.

“Why of course! I don’t kill for fun, Kaboodle.” Clown scoffed, as if he was offended by Kaboodle’s concern. “What do you take me as? A murderer?”

Kaboodle kept her mouth shut, knowing all too well the bloodstains that would never come out of Clown’s skin.

“I just worry, that’s all.” Kaboodle finally said, letting her arms fall to her side. “I don’t want you to get in any more trouble.”

“I’m in jail, Kaboodle. What more trouble could I be in?”

“Death, Clown.” 

The pair fell silent, uneasy and cold. Death never scared the jester, taunting the cold mistress daily with his crimes. But for Kaboodle, she was terrified. Losing the one that was closest to her, the one that would always stay by her side, it was too much for her to bear.

And yet, Clown was gone, and the lion had taken his place. And Kaboodle didn’t recoil at the thought of him by her side.

In fact, she felt a warmth rise at the thought.

“We’re survivors, Kaboodle.” Clown finally said, slipping the key back into the mysterious pocket it had come from. “I don’t plan on dying any time soon.”

“I know.” Kaboodle’s shoulders sagged, and her heart began to ache. Clown was going to escape. He was going to finish the job he had started, the job he had entrusted Kaboodle with when his body was tossed into this prison cell. And there was nothing Kaboodle could do now to stop him.

Nothing, at least, that would keep him safe.

“Get some rest, Kaboodle. It’s going to be a big day tomorrow.” Clown hummed, sliding back into the bed. He gave Kaboodle an airy wave, a rumbling laughter rising in his throat. “Remember, I’m counting on you.”

Kaboodle didn’t like those words anymore.

Chapter Text

“Today is going to be a disaster!” Zam cried, pacing back and forth across his room. Kaboodle followed him with her eyes, starting to get dizzy as he picked up his speed. Kaboodle looked away, instead focusing on Mane.

The knight was silent, his own gaze fixed on Kaboodle. She felt a shiver run down her spine, his hidden eyes searching her soul, asking her questions she did not have the answer to.

Will you betray?

“Everything’s going to be fine, Zam.” Kaboodle assured.

Those words were a damn lie.

Zam stopped pacing, standing before his vanity. He quickly ran his hands through his hair, shuffling around the strands that stuck out. He let out a stressed hum, his hands falling heavy on the vanity top. He stared into the mirror, and Kaboodle stared back.

His eyes were heavy, dark bags weighing them down. His brows were creased, lips turned down into a gentle frown. Zam looked haunted, the weight of the world placed upon his shoulders.

Guilt stung in Kaboodle’s throat as she tore her gaze away.

“Prince Zam?” There was a knock at the door, the trio turning their heads to the sound. The door was pushed open, Flame and Squiddo standing there in the doorway. “Are you ready?”

There was no verbal response. Instead, Zam moved past Kaboodle, his tired expression replaced with determination. He gave Flame a short nod, and made his way into the hall.

They fell into formation, Zam leading the charge. Mane and Flame followed behind, one on each side, their respective mentees following close behind. The group marched forward, a somber air about them. Kaboodle kept her head low, glancing at the servants that bowed as the group passed. Each movement caused her to jump, the fear it was him that was following them.

After some time, Zam stopped before grand arched doors, staring up as they reached high into the ceiling. Gold wound its way through the sycamore wood, stretching out a grand floral pattern. Golden ring handles hung from lions jaws, Zam’s hesitant hand reaching out for one. He curled the hand around the ring, and took a deep breath.

The door swung open, and the crowd behind it went quiet.

Flame and Mane entered first, walking down the sprawling red carpet, reaching the grand throne and standing on either side.

Zam followed soon after, the silence that hung in the air growing heavy as he took his first steps forward.

The sea of people followed along with him, bowing as the prince walked forward. It was like the tides of the ocean lulling as bodies were lowered. The wave rose once the prince took his position, and the crowd looked to him expectantly.

Kaboodle and Squiddo stood by the doors, closing them once the coronation had begun. Kaboodle found herself anxiously scanning the crowd, unable to focus on the words being spoken to the crowd. 

Eyes bore into her soul, a predator stalking its prey, waiting for the chance to strike.

There was a shift in the air, and Kaboodle braced herself.

Kaboodle unsheathed her sword, metal scraping together as another met hers. Kaboodle came face to face with the masked jester, her body tilting back as a shocked gasp ripped through the air.

“Clown—” Kaboodle said, struggling with the weight of the attacker, stepping back further into the room. The crowd backed away, rippling as the stones skipped across the water.

“Kaboodle, why are you stopping me?” Clown asked, his voice just loud enough for Kaboodle to hear.

“I told you, I couldn’t do it.” Kaboodle whispered, taking her left hand and pushing her blade away, shoving Clown back.

“You’re a liar, Kaboodle.” Clown replied, his body reaching a stand-still. Kaboodle could hear the smile creeping up his face, the twinkle in his eye when he knew he was about to get what he wanted.

Kaboodle’s stomach churned, and her heart sank into her boots.

“Kaboodle is a liar!” Clown shouted, pointing his sword out at the knight. “How else would I be here? I couldn’t let myself out on my own!”

“Clown—” Kaboodle choked.

“Oh, I’m not done yet, Kaboodle.” Clown swiveled his body, turning out to the crowd. “She’s told me many secrets. You’ve got some… interesting military tactics. Expending guards after an attempt on your life? You’re really putting you and your guests in danger!”

Clown approached Zam, waving his sword in circles as he did. Flame and Mane crossed their swords, preparing for the same fight from only a week prior. Clown clicked his tongue, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“How cute. You think I haven’t learned?” Clown mused. Suddenly, he lunged forward, elbowing Mane in the chest, catching the knight off guard. He stumbled back, giving Clown the opportunity to thrust his sword at Flame, swiping the remaining guard away. Clown waited, watched, before thrusting his sword towards Zam’s heart.

Clank!

Metal grinded together, Kaboodle barely managing to make it in time. Her sword was placed dangerously close to her throat, the knight grateful for the gorget that protected it. Clown’s pressure lightened, but his body was as stiff as ever.

“Get out of my way, Kaboodle.” Clown warned, allowing himself to be pushed back. Kaboodle heaved, her sword scraping against the carpet as it fell to her side.

“Kaboodle? Is this true?” Kaboodle turned her head, her hidden eyes catching Mane’s. His helmet was tilted up, full face exposed for Kaboodle to read. 

He was heartbroken.

Kaboodle had never seen Mane’s eyes before. They were a gentle amber hue, specks of gold twinkling beneath the threat of tears. The lion never cried, but a human body could only compose itself for so long.

Kaboodle tore her gaze away, fixing her eyes on the marble floor beneath her. Her skin was ablaze from glares, her heart pounding from the bated breaths. Everyone wanted her answer. Everyone wanted to know her stance. Was she the traitor Clown told her to be? Or was she the knight who claimed to protect those she cared for?

Kaboodle looked up, settling her gaze onto Clown once more. His mask was vacant, the engraved smile hiding the pure hatred Kaboodle knew lay behind it.

“It’s true that I told Clown these things—” Kaboodle began, a gentle quiver in her voice as her own tears dared to fall. She shivered, the hot eyes and cold tears waging war upon her skin. “— and it’s true I was going to betray.”

“ But —” Kaboodle looked back up, locking eyes with Mane again. He stood beside her, sword clenched tightly in his hand, minuscule tremors hidden by trained stillness. Her mentor— no, her friend— looked down upon her with a cacophony of emotions swimming in honey eyes.

“Prince Zam— King Zam— is not the same as the king before.” Kaboodle turned around, facing the masked jester. Despite the hidden expression, Kaboodle knew underneath Clown was fuming. “We don’t need to assassinate him. We don’t need pointless violence!”

“Kaboodle.” Clown’s voice was low and cold, slicing through her like a blade to her throat. “What are you doing?”

“The right thing.” Kaboodle replied, pointing her sword directly at Clown’s vacant heart.

Clown drew his blade, metal clashing as he swung towards Kaboodle. The knight yelped, stumbling back from the force. Her grip on the hilt tightened, drawing her sword up, the blades clashing once more. Clown was stronger physically, pushing in harder and harder. Kaboodle stepped back, drawing closer and closer to a wall, until her back thumped against the solid surface. She was cornered, Clown forcing Kaboodle’s blade closer and closer to her neck.

Her heart lurched in her throat. The blade touched the gorget, and Kaboodle swallowed. 

A cry of pain erupted from Clown, the masked jester lurching backwards. Blood splattered against her left greave, Kaboodle looked down as the tip of Mane’s blade slashed at Clown’s right calf. She took this opportunity to push Clown back, dashing over to Mane’s side as her, now former, friend struggled to stay upright. Mane had put his helmet back on, the lion’s fur falling down his back once more. 

Clown stood straight once more, spinning around to slash at the knights behind him. Kaboodle ducked, Mane using this opportunity to catch the blade in the divots of his pauldron. As Mane used his own sword to push Clown’s away, Kaboodle drew her sword upwards, slashing across Clown’s chest. 

Clown took a step back, ripping his sword from Mane’s shoulder and attempting to slash at Kaboodle’s face. Her helmet shook, the loud clank of metal ringing in her ears. Kaboodle stumbled, stretching her arms out from her sides to keep herself balanced. 

She watched Clown lunge for her, barely flinching at the wound now exposed on his chest. He held the sword in both hands, raising it above him, and thrusting down with a force Kaboodle had never seen before. She yelped, barely managing to catch the blade with her own, her left palm pressed against the foible to keep it steady across her chest.

“Stand down, Kaboodle.” Clown hissed. “This would be easier if you just listened to me .”

“I have, Clown.” Kaboodle responded, attempting to push back against him. “And I’ve decided that you’re wrong.”

“What?” The jester huffed, and Kaboodle heard the scowl in his voice. “How could you? You’ve seen these nobles now, you should know what they’re like.”

“Yeah, and you’re wrong about them!” Kaboodle shoved Clown back, watching him stumble before catching his footing again.

“You haven’t seen what I’ve seen, Kaboodle.”

“And you haven’t seen what I have, either.”

They stood across each other, faces hidden by their respective masks. Kaboodle opened her mouth to speak, shutting it when she realized there were no more words to say. The pair were at a stand-still, their views no longer aligned, hearts no longer intertwined. Kaboodle stared at the man before her, no longer recognizing who he was.

Kaboodle was sure Clown felt the same.

The pair lunged at each other again, clashing swords and exchanging blows. Clown was fast, but Kaboodle had become faster. She slashed and hacked away at his uncovered body, the red carpet growing dark as blood splashed the ground beneath them. Clown grew clumsy over time, the wounds he was gaining proving to take a toll on his body. 

Finally, Clown stumbled to his back, the mask he wore knocked off. Beneath it was a face Kaboodle hadn’t seen in a while, the face of a former friend.

His eyes were a crimson red, matching the blood that leaked from his wounds. His face was scarred, gashes in flesh racing across his skin. His features were pointed and prominent, skin like snow. 

Kaboodle pointed her sword at Clown’s throat, watching as his breath began to quicken. His eyes searched the unmoving armor, and his body slowly began to relax.

“Kaboodle— we’re friends! You wouldn’t kill me, you wouldn’t kill your friend , would you?” His tattered lips curled up in a weary smile, his eyes softening. There was an emotion in his eyes that Kaboodle had never seen before. Fear .

Kaboodle’s grip loosened, her own eyes glossy as tears began to shed. She was thankful for the visor, shielding the jester’s gaze from witnessing her breakdown. For once, the pair felt human again.

“At one point, we were.” Kaboodle said, her voice shaking. “But sometimes, sacrifices need to be made.”

Kaboodle tightened her grip once more, and with closed eyes, she plunged the sword into Clown’s chest. His death was silent, a choked scream silenced by his final breath exhaled.

Kaboodle’s hands fell, shaking as her eyes opened again. Clown’s face twisted in agony, the betrayal in his eyes fading as his life drained from his body. A man of revenge laid beneath her, slain by the one who he had used to take it, his blood coating her hands.

Kaboodle didn’t feel used, nor did she feel betrayed. She felt sympathy, knowing the pain he had been through to have gotten here. She had left him to rot, feeding information she thought was for the right cause. Even now, standing above the attempted assassin, Kaboodle felt conflicted. She had done the right thing, but it was at the cost of her former friend.

A hand was placed on her shoulder, the knight turning to face the one she once loathed. Mane had removed his helmet once more, uncovered eyes gazing down with similarly mixed emotions.

“You okay?”

Kaboodle opened her mouth, but there were no words spoken. Gently, her head fell into his chest, quiet sobs beginning to echo in the metal that covered her face. Mane didn’t move, nor did he make any attempt to push her away. The pair stood there over the dead body of the one Kaboodle used to care about.

The small rabbit, so scared and alone, comforted by the predator that took her under his paw.

Chapter Text

It didn’t rain on his funeral day, and Kaboodle was the only one there.

She stood before the burial site, deep in the forest behind the castle where the rest of the employees went. It was far from home, far from anyone to possibly stumble upon. No soul would remember him, no soul but hers.

There were no birds chirping, no rustling of leaves. It was still and quiet, much like Kaboodle’s thoughts. What could she say? What could she do? He was gone, and she wasn’t scared.

“Kaboodle?” She turned around to face Mane as he walked towards her. He was without his armor, wearing loose clothes tucked into a belt that fit snug around his waist. Of course, another lion pelt draped over his shoulders like a cape, a mark of who he was with him at all times.

“Hey.” She said, turning back to the unmarked grave. A single black rose laid upon the mound.

“Bit of a trip to get here.” Mane hummed, reaching Kaboodle’s side and standing attentively beside her. 

“It’s the only way to keep him safe.” Kaboodle replied, squeezing her hands together in an attempt to hide the tremble.

“Even after all that?” Mane looked down at her, but there was no judgement or disgust in his eyes. All there was in those amber eyes was compassion.

“Yeah. We grew up together, I can’t just discard him like that.” Mane offered a hand, and Kaboodle took it without hesitation. It was warm and comforting.

“I don’t blame you.”

Kaboodle tightened her grip, tears beginning to fall. She wouldn’t cry over him, Kaboodle had told herself. And she wasn’t, truth be told. 

The rabbit and the lion, hand in hand, stood over the jester’s grave. Hand in hand, they would weep, and hold each other close.