Chapter Text
It wasn’t everyday that the Archmage of the Kingdom of Fools walked up to someone and threw an entire gold ingot at their face. It also wasn’t everyday that the King of the realm picked up the fallen thing, examined it in his hands, and threw it right back.
And it certainly was not everyday that the Archmage caught it and threw it back before running off with a delighted laugh.
Foolish sighs, shaking his head in an attempt to wipe the smile from his face, failing. He’s lucky no one saw that - stars only knows what rumors might spread around without his and Clown’s permission. And plus, he didn’t even know this was going to happen when he first started to talk more with him, but hey! Maybe people will finally get off his ass about not being married-
“My King?”
“AHH- oh! Hello Ros! What can I do for you?”
“Why are you holding a gold ingot?”
“Uhhhhh,” Foolish hides it behind him, shoving it into his inventory. “What gold ingot?”
“My apologies! I could’ve sworn there was one right there in your hand! I see it has disappeared, so I shall disappear along with it!”
“Goodbye Ros!”
He waves to her as she leaves, only stopping when she disappears behind a wall. Taking the gold back out, he twists and turns it over in his hands, rubbing the edges with a callused finger.
He never thought he’d be on the receiving end of this. That’s a lie; he’s thought multiple times about this - a dream of his that he thought would never come true. But here he is, holding an ingot carved with words, thrown directly at his face, not letting him throw it back at the one who gave it.
He needs to start planning his gift. Who knows how long Clown has been thinking of doing this - he can’t let him have too much of a head start.
But what might he get him? The Archmage has practically everything he wants: armour, weapons, his own tower, levels. What was even left to give? A fishing rod that’s almost broken? A totem? A new sock? He could unretire from building, but after what happened last time? No way.
Maybe he can ask someone? He can’t ask Clown nor his snail. Maybe Ros? But he doesn’t… really want to tell the others yet. Wants to keep this as close to his chest as possible for as long as possible.
The last time he got courted and told everyone, he lost them before it finished. He much rather not go through that again, thank you very much. Oh stars, what if Clown doesn’t like what he decides to give him?
But Clown would accept any gift he gave well enough to not do that, right? It’s not like Foolish is going to just give him a rock and call it a day. At least, he hopes he doesn’t gift and gain a rock. Oh, he’s so utterly screwed.
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A grand total of 3 days have passed, and Foolish has nothing. Absolutely nothing. Only the golden ingot, a feeling that he should probably start worrying that Clown might not give a gift, and a kingdom.
He groans, throwing his hands up as he falls back onto his bed. The silence, the waiting, the everything, it was killing him! What was he supposed to do? Just, keep waiting? In silence? He shudders, moving to lay on his side.
With another groan, he pulls his blankets over him, burying his face in their softness. Maybe if he’s lucky, something will just come flying in, land right on top of him, and he’ll be able to throw the gold back.
Ah who’s he kidding? He’s never been that lucky, not ever. The universe certainly won’t give him that sort of luck now either, because it must hate hi-
“Heads up, my king!” A delighted laugh echoes through his room. Foolish rips the blanket off his head, having just gotten truly comfortable, watching as something comes flying in from the window, landing right on top of him.
Blinking in shock, he picks it up, twisting and turning it in his hands, blinking a few more times before finally processing what it was: a small plush totem with a shark hoodie. He holds one of its hands, rubbing it between his fingers before
Oh. Oh no. How was he supposed to top this?
“Do you like it?”
“YES! I MEAN- ahem. Yes, my Archmage, I love it! Where uh, where are you?”
“Right next to you, my lord!”
Foolish looks to his right, finding Clown standing at the foot of his bed. He yelps, almost throwing the plushy at him, but by some miracle he hangs onto it.
“How- what- huh?! This came from the window how- You were not there one second ago.”
“Indeed I wasn’t! But I am now! Now, I must ask,” he holds a hand out, tilting his head. “For the ingot.”
“Oh! Right of course! Here,” Foolish fishes out the ingot, tossing it at Clown, who catches it with ease. “I’ll uh, get right on the gift!”
“Fantastic! Please don’t take too long - mine had an… unfortunate delay, and I much rather that not happen with yours!”
“Of course, dear Archmage! It’ll be done by day’s end!”
“I cannot wait! I shall be in my room for when it’s ready! Good afternoon, my king.”
Clown turns on his heels and stalks out of the room, cape flowing behind him as the door closes by itself.
He stares at the plushie in his hands for a moment before bringing up one hand to his forehead, hitting himself. “I’m the dumbest person alive I’m so- I don’t even have anything?! What is wrong with me oh my stars what the fuck do I give him? I can’t even rush this- I’m so screwed oh no no no.”
Okay. Okay.
He takes a deep breath. It’s okay, he can figure this out. Easy as making a cake!
He uh, he just has to. Nevermind. He’ll figure it out by tonight.
(Being courted by one from the Nether is a great deal. A horrid gift? No Piglin would ever trade with him again. Stars, even the blazes and wither skeletons would glare at him - and he doesn’t even think they can do that.
Anyway: the courting system of the Nether is harsh. A bad gift? The courting gets one more chance before being forced to dissolve. Not returning the ingot after being given a gift? Throwing it anywhere else but the other partner? A heartbreak like none other. There was supposed to be a system in place that must be gone through before courting ever even starts to prevent something like that from happening. Alas, he and Clown, in all their… foolish fashion, skipped right over it.
Oh stars, what if Clown doesn’t return it because he hates the gift? What if this wasn’t what he wanted and he starts to think it was a mistake by tonight? Or tomorrow? Or, stars forbid, as Foolish gives his second gift, Clown simply leaves instead?)
He holds the plush tightly to his chest, falling back onto his bed with a sigh.
‘It’s okay,’ he thinks, closing his eyes roughly. ‘I’ll figure it out. I got this. We’ll be perfectly fine. Easiest gift ever-’
“Oh my stars I got it.”