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Chapter Text

Once upon a time in a land far, far away there was a kingdom, ruled by a kind and wise ruler. The people loved their king and lived in relative peace and prosperity. But then, one bright and sunny day, tragedy struck.

The king and his family had been visiting the queen’s parents. On the way back a dark storm gathered and when lightning struck right in front of the carriage, the horses bolted. Not even the experienced coachman could keep them under control and in their panic they drove the carriage off a cliff.

When the wreckage was found everyone was dead, except the young prince who had miraculously survived and was found a qute a ways away from where the remains of the carriage had ended up. He was wrapped in a cloak but there were no footprints in the sand. It was attributed to the rain washing the tracks away.

Even the prince himself could not give a clear account of the accident when he finally woke up, claiming he passed out when the carriage ran over the cliff and only coming to in his bed in the castle.

The whole kingdom was in shock and grieved with the young prince. Little did they know, that they stood on the threshold of dark times.

Since the prince was too young to rule, his father’s oldest advisor took on the role of regent. Contrary to the late king, the regent was a cold and cruel man. He didn’t care for the comfort and peace of the citizens. He wanted power and riches and led the kingdom into war, raised the taxes and ruled with an iron fist.

Some people held out hope for the time the prince came of age, as the boy had been sweet and shy and had aimed to rule like his father.

But by the time he ascended the throne, it quickly became clear, that the prince had absorbed the teachings of the regent. His heart had turned cold and indifferent and there was no reprieve for the suffering of the common folk.

This was when strange rumours started flying around.

People were whispering about a masked man who attacked nobles on the road and redistributed their wealth to the poorest of the poor. The king mobilised his troops and guards and put a bounty on the vigilante’s head, but the man was fast and clever and could not be caught. It was almost like he could vanish into thin air.

Sometimes the soldiers returned with a stack of playing cards and a bundle of clothes, but the mystery man was nowhere to be found.

The king was furious and determined to find the culprit, but no matter how high he set the bounty, the people didn’t breathe a word. Families who so far had struggled to pay their taxes were suddenly doing well for themselves, but no amount of questions, not even torture led them to reveal the identity of their masked benefactor.

They were at a stalemate. The villain could not be caught and the king could not wring more from his citizens without risking outright rebellion.

This was the moment the masked man decided to step up the pressure to bring the king to his knees.

Chapter Text

King Miles was in a foul mood. The court had been full of complaints about the masked vigilante. The man seemed to be everywhere, one would even be tempted to say he could be in two places at once, going by some of the reports that had come in today.

He had send out Sir Gumshoe to find more witnesses amongst the common folk, but he expected the man was as useless as ever. There were no leads, nothing. The villain swooped in, shook people down for their valuables and was off before anyone could even call the guard. The most aggravating thing was that no one was willing to talk. The nobles, yes, they talked all the time, in great detail and with aggravatingly whiny voices, despite not knowing anything of value. But the people who suddenly had way more money than they should have weren’t breathing a word, not even down in the dungeons under the skilled hands of the torturer.

A servant came and took Miles’ half eaten plate away.

“Sulking is not going to achieve anything, little brother,” came the slow drawl of Princess Franziska.

She wasn’t really his sister, but since her father had become regent, they had spent so much time together, that she had decided on calling herself his big sister. He had been such a miserable, foolish child at the time, that he had humoured her and the moniker stuck.

“I’m not sulking. I’m contemplating this whole sordid affair,” he said, getting up and walking out onto the balcony. He was in no mood to engage in their usual banter.

This criminal had been out and about for roughly a year now and Miles had just about had enough. Unfortunately though, Franziska was right. He was sulking. How could he not with the way things were going? Cursing elaborately he indulged in a bit more in his dark mood. Then he leaned against the banister, closed his eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm himself.

Gumshoe would soon return from his investigation and maybe, just maybe, he would have found something useful this time.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and he sighed. “Franziska, I really don’t appreciate you sneaking up on me like that.”

“Don’t blame the girl,” a deep, unfamiliar voice said.

Miles hand wandered down to the dagger at his side that he wore at all times. To his horror he found that the scabbard was empty. He froze.

“Looking for this?” The voice came again, sounding smug and he felt the pressure of a sharp blade against his throat.

For a moment Miles didn’t dare breathe, then fury overtook caution and he hissed: “You will regret ever having layed hands on your king!”

The blade didn’t move. “Maybe, but really unlikely,” the voice said evenly. A hand slipped inside his coat and came back out with Miles’ pocket-watch. “This will fetch a pretty penny. You really should look after your people more. The least you can do is donate a few items to the effort.”

A cold chuckle, a rough shove to the side, a sharp sting of pain at his throat and by the time he whirled around and called for the guard, the man was gone; with Miles’ pocket watch and his dagger. On the floor was a single playing card, the ace of spades, the unmistakeable proof that he had just been visited by the infamous Mr. Nix.

-

Two guardsmen ran up, looking confused and angry. Neither of them could explain how the man had even got up here. The balcony was on the third floor overlooking the castle courtyard, brimming with guards and all sorts of other people, bustling to get their chores done before nightfall.

One of the guards gathered the sparse evidence while the other fussed over Miles, trying to get him to the healer. Preposterous! It was nothing more than a glorified paper cut. He always kept his dagger sharp.

By the time Gumshoe got back, the whole castle was buzzing with the news.

Franziska looked grim and insisted that she was given swords in addition to her whip. Miles had sent her off to the armoury. He was in no mood to get involved in a teenage tantrum, let the soldiers there deal with her. The thought of Franziska descending on them like an avenging angel at least mollified him somewhat.

Gumshoe’s report was predictably useless. No one had seen or heard anything. An ace of spades had been found on the ground, but that was about it. Despite the ground being muddy from all the rain the days before, only the tracks of the nobleman and his guard could be found. According to them the villain had stepped out of the shadows, knocked out the guard threatened the noble into handing over all the valuables and then simply vanished.

Miss Fey, the court magician had been summoned, but could not detect any traces of magic, which left them even more confused. How could this criminal vanish without a trace if he didn’t use magic?

The security around the castle was stepped up, there were guards everywhere and Miles had found himself a new dagger, even if he was unsure whether he would actually be able to draw it should the culprit re-appear. Someone had handed Franziska the swords she wanted and since then she was never seen without them strapped to her back. It would have been laughable, if Miles hadn’t watched her practise in the gardens. The sight had left him low-key terrified.

The worst was - the masked vigilante was frequently spotted around the castle and grounds, always ever taking small things.

He never attempted to break into the treasury or raid the throne room. But small, valuable items vanished, replaced by playing cards leaving no question as to who had taken them. One time even such a mundane thing as two sacks of potatos were swapped out with two stacks of playing cards.

Afterwards a permanent guard was placed in the kitchens only for a whole bunch of vials and herbs disappearing from the court healer’s stash.

If things continued like that they would be the laughing stock of the entire continent. Miles was in equal parts annoyed, worried and humiliated. Something had to be done.

Maybe the could set a trap somehow?

But what would tempt someone who only took small, portable things?

Some kind of tournament maybe, if they set a reasonable, but not too high prize?

If they sent out people with hidden guards carrying valuables?

In the end Miles decided to try something that he enjoyed doing. That way, even if they didn’t catch that damned Mr. Nix, he would at least get to work some of his frustration out of his system. So, he sent out invitations for a royal hunt.

Chapter Text

It was good to get out of the castle and try to forget about everything for a while. The barking of the hounds, the powerful horse underneath him ready to run, the whole air was charged with excitement.

Nobles and soldiers were paired, there were more soldiers and guards spread throughout the woods. Miles was pretty confident that should the hunt be attacked by Mr. Nix, they would catch him. Gumshoe had insisted on tailing Miles, he had however been clear that the man was to keep his distance so Miles could focus on hunting, something he had always enjoyed but rarely done since he became king and ruling seemed to take up even more time than all the studying he had been doing before.

His hunting bow at the ready, he watched the dog handlers and the very nervous soldier who had been assigned to keep an eye on Franziska, who had swapped her swords for a hunting spear. He shook his head and couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He would never say it out loud, but he was very proud of his fierce sister.

A few minutes later Gumshoe came riding up to let him know that the hunting party was ready. Miles urged his horse forward a few steps, raised his bow high in the air and called, “Let the hunt commence!”

The signallers raised their horns and at their rousing tune the hunt was under way.

Miles threw caution to the wind and raced ahead. He was dimly aware of Gumshoe shouting and cursing behind him as he spurned on his horse even more. Whether he caught a boar or Mr. Nix or both, he really didn’t care in that moment. The rush of speed and freedom coursed through him and for the first time in years he felt truly alive.

He heard rustling in the bushes to the right and when he turned his horse towards the sound, a couple of wild boars burst through the undergrowth, trying to get away from him. Miles fished for an arrow and gave chase.

His horse was well trained and followed all his cues easily enough. Once the boars broke into a clearing, Miles had his bow ready and let the arrow fly. One of the animals shrieked and fell, the other bolted. Miles picked up the reins and shot after it, all thoughts of villains and caution forgotten. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that he hadn’t heard Gumshoe’s frantic shouts or the baying of the hounds in a while, but he didn’t let that cautious part of him spoil the fun.

The second boar was a clever thing, staying in the underbrush as much as possible, forcing Miles to slow down and not giving him the opportunity for a clear shot. For a few minutes he wished he had a spear like Franziska, then dismissed it as not useful.

The animal sped into a clearing and Miles noticed the creek that ran through the middle just in time to fumble the arrow, snatch up the reins and urge his horse to jump. By the time he got his bearings and a new arrow out, the boar had vanished into some bushes to the left.

Miles cursed, turned the horse and followed. Only now did he notice that apart from the animals he was truly alone. For a moment he strained to listen for any signs of the hunt, but all he could hear was the rustling of the vanishing boar, the hoof beats of his horse and birds singing in the trees above him.

A shiver ran down his spine. He had not been truly alone since he was a little boy and played hide and seek with his father in the woods near the castle. The elation he had felt since he had sped off slowly faded to a strange mix of melancholy and apprehension.

The boar was well and truly gone by now and Miles knew he should be turning back, catch up with Gumshoe and find a new quarry, but sunlight glittering off the surface of water beckoned from ahead and caught his curiosity.

So he spurned his horse on and followed the creek to its end.

It turned out to be a small, emerald green lake, the still water glinting in the sunlight. The peace and beauty of the scene was captivating and Miles found himself staring out at the water, forgetting about the world around him, letting the calm wash over him. He closed his eyes, listening to the birds and the creek murmuring next to him.

A few moments later the world came crashing back in, as someone jumped onto the horse behind him and used the momentum to tumble them both out of the saddle.

Miles threw himself backwards, managing to land on his assailant, who let out a pained grunt. His horse was already bolting, spooked by what was happening. Miles struggled to get to his feet before his attacker, only to face four bow men, their arrows all trained in his direction.

They, as well as his attacker, wore deep green hoods, shading their faces from view, but neither of them had a familiar mask. Were they in any way connected to Mr. Nix?

“Now what do we have here?” one of the men put his bow down, stepping towards Miles. “We caught ourselves a king! I do wonder how much the folks at the castle will pay to get you back.” A deep dark chuckle accompanied those words.

“Hopefully a lot, or all they will get is his head on a pike,” one of the others said.

The man who had dragged Miles off his horse finally got to his feet, wheezing. “We should give him a thorough beating anyway. He nearly crushed me,” he coughed out.

“Let’s get him to the hideout first. Once he’s locked up proper, you can do what you want - provided he stays alive to be ransomed out,” the apparent leader said.

Miles’ heart beat fast, he stepped back, splashing into the shallow water of the lake. “You would not dare to lay one more hand on your king!” he ground out.

“Looks to me like you are all alone here. We are five, and three arrows are pointed at your heart. Seems like me laying a hand on you is the best case scenario. The alternative is a tad more... permanent.”

“Gumshoe!” Miles shouted, but predictably all that happened was an overwhelming silence.

The bandit leader laughed. “Maybe they wanted to get rid of you and won’t pay anything. But I’ll take my chances.” He stepped right up, pulled one of the leather belts from around his torso, dragged Miles’ wrists to the back and wound the belt tightly around them, keeping the end in his hand.

Then he was shoved forwards. “Now move! And if you keep on shouting I have no problem shoving a gag into your mouth. ‘s up to you.” The others surrounded Miles and his captor and they started going upstream, even further away from the castle.

Mind reeling, Miles stumbled along.

After a while his feet started to hurt in his wet boots and the belt was cutting harshly into his wrists. He was surrounded by enemies in unfamiliar territory and trying to run would probably only result in being shot down. For now he had to bide his time and hope for a chance to escape at a later time.

He didn’t know how long they had been walking, when the man to his right suddenly staggered and collapsed to the ground. The others stopped, only to see a long feathered arrow sticking out of the man’s back.

The bandit leader cursed, grabbed onto Miles’ arm and dragged him along. Of the remaining three men two followed him, while one veered off into the other direction, searching for the hidden bowman.

Miles hobbled along, his thoughts racing. Was that Gumshoe? Or a rival bandit gang? Should he try and slow them down and hope for a rescue?

A branch took the decision from him. He stumbled, ended up on his knees and almost dragged his captor down with him. When they had both struggled back to their feet, they saw another bandit lying on the forest floor, an arrow piercing his throat.

The leader swore extensively and him and his sole remaining companion grabbed Miles’ arms hard and dragged him on, trying to get cover. There was the sound of huge wings beating and a moment later the man to his right fell, leaving Miles alone with the leader.

He couldn’t count on the mysterious attacker being an ally. While the leader’s grip on Miles’ arm slackened, staring at his last fallen comrade, Miles wrenched himself free and started to run.

“Hey!” the bandit shouted.

Miles expected to be tackled to the ground within seconds. What he didn’t expect was a sharp pain in his right thigh that swiftly brought him down to the ground. He somehow managed to haul himself up on all fours looking back just in time to see the bandit leader aim another arrow in his direction. He froze in pain and terror expecting to be struck down any moment, when something jumped out of the tree behind the last bandit and thrust a dagger into the man’s back. The arrow zinged away and hit the ground a few feet away from Miles.

The last he saw before he passed out was the strange figure wiping the dagger on the bandit’s jacket and walking calmly towards Miles, folding what looked like a huge pair of wings behind his back. The creature was wearing a black mask.

Chapter Text

He was nine years old and chattering away happily. The time at his grandparents’ holding had been one big adventure. Away from the castle he had been free to roam and learn and make new friends amongst the many children living there.

Now in the coach on the way back he couldn’t stop re-telling tale after tale of what he’d learnt and experienced and his mother and father listened patiently, smiling and laughing. Their enthusiasm taking away the sting of having to go back to the castle and their duties.

He didn’t pay attention to the weather and when an almighty crash spooked the horses, the coach suddenly jumped and then they went a lot faster than usual.

Miles tried to be brave and not show the fear that crept up his spine like ice. But he could tell his parents were worried, even though his father re-assured them that Forthwrite was an experienced coachman and would have the situation under control in no time.

He could tell by the way his mother insisted on taking Miles onto her lap, even though he was already nine and way too old for that sort of thing. He was still grateful for her arms around him, even if they trembled just as much as his.

Then there was the shriek of horses in pain and a horrible swooping feeling in his stomach and he saw a cliff soar upwards way too fast, before an impact wrenched him out of his mother’s arms and he was thrown out of the breaking coach, hitting the ground hard.

When he came to a man crouched by his side. He was crying out for his parents, trying to get up and get to them, but the man in front of him shook his head sadly, saying it was too late and Miles would do better to remember them the way they were than what was left of them and spread his wings to shield the wreckage of the coach from Miles’ view.

For a moment he was taken aback by the wings an wondered where he had seen such a creature before, but then he remembered where he was and what happened and he tried to jump up and scratch and punch at the winged man with all the might his nine year old body could provide, fresh tears running down his cheeks.

The man simply took him into his arms and made soothing noises, riding out the storm of Miles' rage and pain.

“I’m so sorry, little one, so, so sorry,” he whispered as he finally picked Miles up and flew off into the dusk. When he jumped into the air he got that swooping feeling again and clung to the man in terror, before passing out again.

-

When Miles woke up again his sluggish mind was full of images of golden and red feathers seemingly glowing in the light of the setting sun. He shook his head to clear his mind, when a sharp pain in his thigh made him gasp.

Carefully he opened his eyes. He had expected a cell, maybe a pile of straw in a corner. Instead he was lying in a huge four poster bed that could easily fit a small family. His head was supported by a fluffy pillow and several blankets were piled on top of him.

The size of the room reflected the size of the bed. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows and Miles could see branches waving in the wind outside. He blinked a few times, trying to take it all in. There was a cluttered table in the corner and a hearth that suggested this home consisted of one big room. The curtains on one side of the bed were drawn and Miles couldn’t see what was behind them. He sat up to try and tug them open, but the movement jolted the wound in his thigh and he gave up with a pained grunt.

Footsteps sounded from the other side of the curtain. There was rustling of cloth and then a familiar masked figure stepped out at the foot of the bed.

“Long time no see, your highness,” Mr. Nix said.

Miles stared. He tried to remember what exactly had happened before he passed out. There had been that mask, and golden feathers... no, that had been in his dream, hadn’t it?

“What...”

...is going on here? Who are you? Were all things he wanted to say, but in the end he settled on: “... do you want?”

A grin spread on what was visible of the man’s face. “Honestly? Right now I want for your leg to get better so I can throw you out and have my house back to myself.”

Whatever Miles had been bracing himself for, this wasn’t it.

“What?” was about all he managed.

The grin vanished and the man sighed. “Look, I might think that you are a pretty bad king and I might have taken to stealing and robbery to help your subjects to actually survive, but I don’t think killing you is the solution. You used to be a pretty decent person, he must still be in there somewhere.”

He leant against the bed post and stared intently at Miles. “So, unless you decide to do something stupid, the plan is to wait till you are in a good enough shape to ride and then take you far enough that you can get safely back to the castle. I might be a thief by necessity, but I’m not a kingslayer.”

Miles finally managed to get his thoughts in some semblance of order. He needed more information. “Where am I?”

Mr. Nix shrugged. “As I said, you are in my home. For obvious reasons I can’t tell you where that is.”

“How did I get here?”

“I carried you.”

“How should I address you?”

“Nix is fine.”

They glared at each other for some time until the pain in Miles’ leg got too much and he let his head fall back, gritting his teeth. Nix vanished, there was some rummaging, then he re-appeared and came back to Miles’ side of the bed.

“Let me have a look at your leg. The wound probably needs re-dressing and you can either have some poppy sap or willow bark for the pain.”

The sap would be a more effective pain relief, but it would also knock him out. Something Miles wanted to avoid as long as he was dependent on the vigilante.

“The bark,” he grit out.

Nix nodded, pulled some strips out of a bag and handed them to Miles. He took it with shaking hands and started chewing on one of them. Then he lifted himself up on his elbows despite the pain. He wanted to see his injury and what the vigilante did to it.

The blankets were moved aside and Miles saw bandages around his thigh. Blood had already started seeping through. Nix carefully removed them and looked critically at the wounds on both sides. He took a jar out of his medicine bag and applied liberal amounts of the salve within. Miles only just managed to stay silent by biting hard onto the willow bark.

Then Nix applied fresh bandages. “So far you have avoided infection. Let’s hope it stays that way. The salved should help. You were lucky, those idiots don’t usually poison their arrows.”

That thought hadn’t even occurred to Miles yet. There were so many reasons he should be dead by now. He let himself fall back onto the pillows with a sigh. The pain was still bad and he needed time to assess his situation. Right now he was useless and could only hope that Nix was as good as his word and wouldn’t harm him any further.

The man got up and gathered his supplies. “Try and get some more sleep. I have to go out for a while. Don’t try and flee with that bad leg of yours. We’re up high and I’m going to lock the door anyway.”

Miles just nodded dumbly as Nix got up. For a second he thought he could see a glimpse of red and gold feathers on the inside of the cloak, before the folds of the cloth closed around his figure and the man moved out of his sight. He heard him rummage around for a bit, then a door opening and closing and the surprisingly loud click of a lock.

He closed his eyes, but his thoughts were chasing each other around in his mind, the pain in his thigh had subsided a little, but it all kept him awake.

He picked up another strip of bark and began to chew absently while trying to make sense of what had happened. Why had he dreamt of red and gold wings? Was Nix’s cloak really lined with feathers? The wings he had seen before passing out, had they been real? Or had the situation just reminded him of the long buried memories of the day his parents died?

He let out a frustrated groan. Nothing made sense. The man he had been hunting for weeks was treating his wounds, maybe even saved him from a worse fate at the hands of some bandits.

The restlessness didn’t ease off, so with grit teeth, he sat up and carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well try and explore his surroundings. Even though sitting up already agitated his wound, he carefully pushed himself up, putting most of his weight on his good leg.

For a while he just stood there and looked around. Now that he paid more attention, he realised that the walls weren’t brick or even stone, but a solid rock wall. Was this lair built into a natural cave?

He took a deep breath and pushed his bad leg forward, then held his hand out to grab the bedpost when he took a careful step. It hurt like hell, but somehow he managed to put his weight on it without collapsing.

It took about 6 painful steps to reach the window and what he saw took his breath away. He was high up, at least a hundred meters above the forest below, maybe more. Before the window was a narrow space where a few windswept trees and bushes grew and beyond that something that looked like a sheer drop.

How had he gotten up here unconscious and with an arrow through his thigh? His mind presented him with an image of huge red and gold wings, but he shook his head at himself. Court magician Fey would have certainly told him if there was a spell that gave people wings.

His leg started to shake and he slowly, painfully made his way back to the bed, almost collapsing onto it. There was a lot he needed to think about, but the few steps had been exhausting and he fell asleep almost as soon as he had burrowed back into the blankets.

Chapter Text

Over the next few days they developed a strange kind of routine.

In the morning Nix would bring him tea and an apple and changed his bandages. Then he went out, doing whatever the vigilante did during his days. Robbing people, no doubt, Miles thought while gritting his teeth.

In the beginning he left some books on the bedside table. On the third day, he leaned a walking stick next to it and said, “You’re welcome to walk around inside. Everything I don’t want you to see is locked anyway. Don’t go outside, at least not far, I really don’t want to scrape your brains off the bottom of the cliff, but I will leave the door unlocked from now on.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “I’m hardly that incompetent.”

Nix flashed a cheeky grin. “Just making sure. After all, I’m investing a lot into your health, so don’t come crying to me when you’re dead.”

He didn’t dignify that with a response. The man was infuriating.

“Help yourself to any food you find. I’ll cook in the evening.” And with that, the vigilante was off.

Something to look forward to, at least. He had not expected it, but Nix actually cooked decent food. Nothing fancy of course, but it tasted surprisingly good. The downside was that most of it probably came from poached animals, but since Miles got to eat it, he had decided not to mention the fact that it was pretty certainly stolen from the crown.

It was the only concession Miles made though. Every chance he got, he tried to interrogate the man. Where exactly were they? How did he get up here? Where were all the riches he had stolen so far and certainly was stealing right now?

But, no matter how Miles tried to phrase it, the vigilante just grinned and deflected everything.

“Say,” Nix said one evening, “When was the last time you left your castle for anything other than a hunt or other posh event?”

The question took him by surprise. “I really couldn’t say,” he said noncommittally. Then, “Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Nix shrugged. “Just wondering how well you know your kingdom, really. But this already explains a lot.”

“What do you mean? Of course I know my kingdom!” Miles huffed.

“Yeah, from maps and balls at different castles and manors. Ever talked to your servants? Or - gods forbid - the people who grow your food?” Nix pointedly glared at him.

“What? That’s preposterous! Why should I do such a thing? I have advisors, people who deal with peasants. You clearly have no idea what kingship entails, if you think I have time to chat with common people.”

The cheek of the man! Also, what would this accomplish anyway? Farmers and servants had no idea about diplomacy or how to run a kingdom. Next Nix would suggest to discuss law and policies with his manservant!

He heaved himself out of the chair and shoved his plate to the side. “I’m going to bed. I’m not dealing with your harebrained ideas any longer.” He took the walking stick and hobbled over to the bed.

When he slipped between the sheets he heard the other quietly mutter, “Maybe you should take the time.”

He didn’t respond, let the man think he hadn’t heard. What a load of nonsense!

Still, it did take him a while to fall asleep, because for some reason he suddenly remembered his father talking to the stable hands about their families or his mother sharing gossip with her maid. Now that he came to think of it, it had all been very improper. It was good that Lord von Karma had shown him just how ridiculous that sort of thing had been.

-

The next day he woke when the room was still steeped in darkness though the bit of sky he could see through the window started to turn grey. It was quiet, so Nix was presumably still asleep. Carefully Miles slipped out of bed and, forgoing the walking stick despite the pain, crept over to the sofa where his host slept.

So far Nix had always woken before him and apparently the first thing he did in the morning was don his stupid mask. Miles had never managed to catch a glimpse of his face.

As the sun rose over the horizon and the room became light enough to see more than just vague shapes, Miles stood over the sleeping form of the vigilante and only just managed to keep in a frunstrated groan when he saw that the man actually slept with his mask on. Who did that?

When he looked closer, he couldn’t see any kind of string or other method to attach the mask to his head. What in the gods’ name...?

Miles crouched down despite the pain in his thigh and peered intently at Nix’s face. From this close he could see that the mask was made out of hundreds of tiny feathers and no matter how hard he looked, there were no fastenings. Magic was the only solution then.

He grit his teeth against the pain as he pushed himself back up and froze when Nix chose that exact moment to turn onto his stomach and tug his blanket further up. But during the movement, Miles had again the impression of red and gold gleaming up at him from the man’s back. For a second he pondered lifting the blanket and peering at what lay behind, but he really didn’t want to get caught, so he hobbled back to the bed and stretched out his leg.

-

The days crept by and Miles became both more mobile and more restless. It made him even more irritable, and despite the knowledge that he was at his abductor’s mercy, he snapped at him more frequently.

At one point Nix threw his hands up and shouted, “No wonder the kingdom is in such a sorry state, what with being ruled by a spoiled brat!”

Miles was so nonplussed that by the time the vigilante had stormed out and vanished, he was still standing there with his mouth open ready to argue back. It took him quite some time staring at the closed door to come to his senses.

Spoiled brat, ha!

He noticed his mouth was still hanging open and snapped it shut. Why did he feel so insulted though? The opinion of such a lowly criminal should just slide off him like water from a duck’s plumage. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the uncomfortable feeling that had spread through his body.

The image of his father rose up in his mind and the late king looked... disappointed. Why did all this feel so familiar?

-

Miles was clutching the treasure to his chest, grinning and running straight towards his father. The other children were racing after him, shouting, demanding that he give the pretty, glittering stone back.

He skidded to a halt only a few steps away from the king, turned around and said with as much dignity as he could muster, “I am your prince and if I want this treasure, you have to give it to me!”

There was a cry of outrage from the other children. The stable boy, who had showed them the beautiful stone, stepped forwards, glancing carefully at the king, but still stood his ground. “But it’s mine! My uncle found it at the southern shore and he gave it to me. You can’t just keep it.”

Miles’ whole seven-year-old self was outraged. It was fun playing with the band of kids that always hung out around the stables, but none of them were of noble blood and he was the crown prince. They really should show more respect and let him have this lovely, shiny trinket. “I want to have it. It’s pretty and I don’t have any rocks from the southern shore. You should give it to me as a tithe.”

A hand touched his shoulder carefully but firmly. “Give it back, Miles,” his father said quietly.

“But...” he turned around and stared incredulously at Gregory.

“Now.” The king’s voice was still not loud, but it brooked no opposition.

Miles’ shoulders drooped, he turned back to the other children and with a trembling hand held out the glittering stone. “Here,” he whispered, not trusting himself to speak up.

The original owner of the rock stepped forward, bowed deeply to the king, then snatched the thing out of Miles’ hand and bolted away as fast as his feet could take him. The rest of the children followed, some throwing shrewd looks back at Miles that he didn’t like at all.

When they were all gone, Miles looked up at his father. “Come,” Gregory said and walked ahead towards a stone bench.

He sat down and gestured for Miles to sit next to him. “Miles,” he said in a very serious tone, once the young prince had done so. “Why did you take that boy’s stone?”

“It was pretty. I wanted it.”

“And why do you think it was appropriate to just steal it?”

“I didn’t steal!” Miles was outraged. “I’m his prince, he’s just a peasant, he should have just given it to me when I asked!”

His father looked at him, grave disappointment on his face. “Being prince, or even king for that matter, doesn’t give you the right to just take whatever you like. Your subjects deserve respect no matter their status. The life and wellbeing of a stable hand’s son is no less important than that of a prince. You both fulfill different roles in society and both are important. What you did was a selfish act of greed, not befitting of a prince. If you insist on behaving like that, you are nothing more than a spoiled brat. I’d like to think you want to be worthy of your title, correct?”

“Yes, father,” Miles muttered quietly.

Gregory smiled. “I know it’s easy to forget, but we have to remind ourselves every day that just because we were born into a position of power, doesn’t make us any better. On the contrary, we have to be more careful and make sure that everyone can lead a good life. We have a responsibility to our people, not just the other way around.”

-

Miles gasped. How had he forgotten about this? Nix had called him a spoiled brat. Had he truly strayed so far from his father’s teachings?

A tiny voice inside his head that he had spent the last 13 years shoving down and ignoring as best he could said, yes, father would be horrified by the person you have become.

The thought was sobering. Out of reflex, he tried to push it away again, but it stubbornly stayed put. What had Nix said about him? That he had no idea how his subjects really lived. He hadn’t taken the time to talk to anyone who was not of noble blood in years.

He had felt lost and alone when his parents died and relied solely on the regents' guidance and teachings and when they had been the polar opposite to what his father had been saying, he had tried his best to push away the conflicting feelings. Any feelings really. He had become a man of hard facts and numbers, not looking past the confines of the palace to see the consequences of his actions.

With a sickening feeling he limped back to the bed. When Nix returned, he would have to start asking questions he really didn’t want to know the answers to.

Chapter Text

Miles must have fallen asleep eventually, because the next thing he was aware of was the delicious smell of chicken soup. When he opened his eyes, the clouds outside the window were a bright, glowing pink, indicating the sun was about to set.

He took a few deep breaths to harden his resolve and then swung his legs out of the bed only wincing a little at the reminder that yes, he got an arrow through the thigh only a few days ago, and grabbed the walking stick.

He rounded the bed in time to see Nix putting two bowls of soup on the table.

“You’re back,” Miles said.

“It would be pretty silly letting you starve to death while putting fresh bandages on your leg every day,” Nix countered with a cheeky grin.

Miles sighed. Did that man ever take anything seriously? He slowly walked over and sat down in what had become his place over the last few days. Nix took the chair opposite and started to eat without ceremony. Miles followed suit. He tried to think about how to approach the man.

He needn't have bothered though. As soon as his bowl was empty, Nix put his spoon down and said, “I’m sorry I called you a spoiled brat, but I still think you don’t have any idea of the living conditions of your subjects.”

“You’re right,” Miles agreed.

It was worth it, just for the surprised look on Nix’s face. Before the man could say anything, Miles continued, “If your offer still stands, I would like to accept it. Show me the true state of my kingdom. If it is truly as bad as you say, I’ll remove the price on your head.”

The surprise on the vigilante’s face morphed into something like delight. “Deal!” he said and held his hand out across the table. With only a slight hesitation Miles reached out and shook it.

“Alright,” he said.

“Tomorrow I’m taking you to meet a few people. I’m glad you’ve finally agreed to this. It means I was right all along.” The gentle smile on Nix’s face seemed almost genuine. It was hard to tell with the mask he wore all the time, but that smile made him look quite pretty.

“Tomorrow then.” With that Miles got up and went back to bed to read to try and distract himself from what he had just agreed to.

-

After breakfast the next day, Nix threw a hooded cloak at him. “Here, wear this, you really don’t want to be recognised on this trip.”

Miles slipped on the cloak and leaning not quite as heavily as the last few days onto his walking stick, followed the vigilante out onto the rocky ledge. He looked around, trying to spy a path or anything, but there seemingly was no way to leave the place.

“So,” Nix cleared his throat. “I usually don’t let people see this, but apart from knocking you out, I don’t really know how to hide it any longer.”

“What do you mean?” Miles glared at him.

“This,” Nix said. With a flowing movement, he brushed the cloak away from his shoulders and unfolded what had been hidden beneath.

Miles gasped and instinctively took a step back. A pair of beautiful wings were stretched out on either side of Nix. The plumage was red and gold with the pinion feathers a shiny, iridescent midnight blue. They were actually the same colour as the feathers that made up the “mask”. He narrowed his eyes and reached out towards the man’s face.

“I was wondering why you slept with your mask on. But it’s not really a mask, is it?” he asked.

Nix smirked. “It’d be difficult taking it off me, yeah.”

Miles stared from the “mask” to the wings. “Who are you?”

The vigilante’s lips moved from a mischievous grin to a gentle smile. “I am Nix. But you could also call me - phoenix.”

“A phoenix...” Miles breathed. A legendary fire bird...

Suddenly a lot of things made sense. How the man could appear in high places and disappear without leaving a trace. The familiar shape of red and golden wings... Hang on! “Have you...? Were you the one... at the beach? When my parents died?”

The smile was wiped off Nix’s face. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more,” he said quietly.

“No, it’s a...” Miles cut himself off and closed his eyes. It wasn’t alright. It could never be alright. But the fact that he hadn’t been alone with his dead parents and coachman did count for something, even if his nine year old self had fought like a madman to get back to them.

A gentle hand came to rest on his arm. “Do you need a moment before we leave?”

Miles swallowed hard, then shook his head. “No. I’m fine now.”

It wasn’t true and the sceptical look Nix levelled at him showed that he couldn’t hide how rattled he was. But the phoenix let it slide and nodded.

“I need you to hold onto me tightly. I have arranged for someone to leave horses for us at the foot of the cliff. Here,” with that he handed Miles a belt loop. “Strap your walking stick to this, you’ll want to use both hands.”

Glad for the distraction, Miles wound the belt around his middle and affixed the stick to it. “How are we getting down exactly?” He asked, even though he had a pretty good idea.

“I’ll fly us down of course. The cliff is climbable in theory, but you need to be very good and with your leg - not a chance.”

Nix stepped up to the edge and waved for Miles to follow.

It was dizzying to look directly down. Instinctively he flung his arms out and grabbed onto Nix. The man grinned. “Not like that. Let me show you.”

With that he stepped right up to Miles and pressed them together. “There, wrap your arms around my neck and don’t let go, whatever you do!” Then he wound his arms around Miles’ waist, quickly pressed his lips to Miles’ cheek, “For good luck!” he whispered and before Miles could say anything, he unfurled his wings and jumped over the edge.

Miles somehow managed to suppress the shriek that wanted to escape by biting his tongue and squeezing his eyes shut. They fell for what felt like ages, before Nix beat his wings a few times and they soared up. The distantly familiar swooping sensation was prompting him to open his eyes.

Over Nix’s shoulder he could see the rocky ledge and the windows of the hideout and then the sheer drop. He was uncomfortably aware that there was nothing between him and the ground but the firm grip of their arms and a powerful pair of wings. He shut his eyes again and hid his face against Nix’s shoulder, causing the phoenix to chuckle. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”

That made Miles look up indignantly. “I’m not scared!” he insisted, staring directly into Nix’s eyes.

The sight was very distracting. Out here in the soft early morning light his eyes shined in a soft brown, the feathers forming the “mask” setting a shimmering, dark blue contrast. It almost made Miles let go to run a finger along the border between feathers and skin - almost. He just caught himself in time, but resolved to do so once they were safely back on the ground.

While Nix was gliding down in a graceful spiral, Miles couldn’t help but think how beautiful the phoenix was. A strange warmth was growing in his chest and when their feet touched the grass at the foot of the cliff, it took him a lot more time than it should have, to disentangle himself from Nix.

Unconsciously he reached out and stroked the back of his fingers over the phoenix’s cheek. Both feathers and skin were soft and warm and Miles stared at him, transfixed.

Nix smiled and caught Miles’ hand in both of his.

“As flattering as your attention is, we do have things to do, people to meet,” he said softly.

For a moment all Miles could do was stare at that gentle smile. Then he cleared his throat. “Right. You said something about horses?”

Nix gestured towards a few trees close to the rock face. Three horses were tethered to them, one of them laden with sacks and baskets. Miles unhooked his walking stick, and they headed over in silence. He had a lot to think about.

Chapter Text

Way too soon they arrived at a farm. Miles had not been pondering what they would find, his head occupied with other alarming things. Mainly the tenderness he felt towards the man he had hitherto seen as an annoyance at best and an enemy of the state most of the time.

Riding did hurt his wounded thigh, but even that had been reduced to a background impairment by his racing thoughts.

All of a sudden he was fascinated by Nix and wanted to learn more about him. Even though his leg was well enough to ride, he expected to return to the phoenix’s lair tonight, rather than the castle, even though he really should return soon. He had been away for a fortnight at least.

Nix jumped off his horse and helped Miles off his before taking one of the sacks he had affixed to his saddle, then they slowly walked up to the main house. Nix knocked and entered straight away.

Miles hesitantly stepped over the threshold and stopped dead.

He didn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. The earthen floor only had a thin covering of dirty straw, a young girl was tending to a pot in the hearth, while an even younger boy tried to keep a gaggle of toddlers away from the fire. In the back was a pig pen and on, what seemingly counted as a bed, lay a woman with a baby, both looking rather sickly.

The younger children came running up and Nix handed each of them an apple, receiving wide eyes and loud cheers. Then he handed the sack off to the young girl at the hearth. “Here’s the oats I promised.”

“Thank you kindly, lord,” the girl said and promptly added two more handfuls of oats to whatever was stewing in the pot.

Nix went over to the mother, his face grave, but he turned back when he noticed that she was asleep. “How has she been doing?” he asked the girl quietly.

“They are both still quite poorly, lord. We’re scared,” she said in a shaky voice.

With a sigh, Nix slipped her some coins. “Send out for the healer, I’ll drop back in tomorrow, alright?”

The girl took Nix’s hand and held it tightly for a moment, her eyes glittering with unshed tears, before she gave one of the coins to her eldest brother and sent him off. He ran past Miles as fast as his little legs could carry him, the rest of his apple still tightly clenched in his fist. It was then that he noticed that none of the children were wearing shoes.

He was still staring at grubby little toes, when Nix put a hand on his arm and turned him around gently towards the door, waving goodbye and once again promising to be back with more the next day.

Outside Miles gasped for air. The smell inside had been quite... intense. Nix looked at him with a strange mix of pity and resentment on his face. “I don’t know what you expected, really,” he said in a hard voice. “These people were poor before, but with the new taxes, life has become almost impossible for them.”

“But the way they live...” Miles shook his head.

“Hardly any farmer lives differently, unless he owns enough land to employ others. But at least before they had enough to eat. If I wasn’t bringing food and the odd coin, they probably would have sold the children into servitude by now.”

“What?” Miles stared at him in shock.

“You do realise there are a lot of serfs in the kingdom, yes?” Nix glared at him sharply.

“Of course! Adults, who sell their labour to the landlord. Not small children.” Miles looked almost pleadingly at Nix.

The phoenix shook his head and scoffed. “You really have no idea about the reality of your subjects. Of course children are sold as serfs. Especially into mines, because they are small, so the tunnels don’t have to be so big, but there is more work where small hands and small bodies are an advantage - at least to the people who earn the coin, not to the children themselves of course.”

“How do you know?” Miles refused to believe it.

Nix swung back onto his horse. “Alright, I wanted to go somewhere else next, but if you don’t believe me, we’ll go and see the monks first.” With that he rode off without waiting for Miles.

Miles cursed and somehow managed to scramble onto his horse without hurting his leg too much and sped after him.

-

By the time they arrived at their destination, Miles was in pain and his mind ablaze with what he had learned. He looked at the building with trepidation. At least it wasn’t small, so maybe whoever lived here was not quite as poor as that family.

After Nix knocked, the door was opened by a boy carrying a book. Nix had slung several sacks over his shoulder and the boy beamed up at him with a wide grin.

“Father Elias,” he called, “Mr. Nix is here!”

“Oh, already?” a deep voice answered, followed by heavy footsteps.

A moment later an old, squat monk rounded the corner. He smiled brightly and reached out to take some of the sacks off the phoenix’s hands. “Nix, my friend!” Then he peered over at Miles, who had diligently pulled the hood down further to keep his face hidden. “You brought a friend.”

“Yes,” Nix smiled, even though he did glance at Miles a bit suspiciously. “I hope to warm him to our cause.”

The monk fixed Miles with a hard stare. “I hope you’ll join, there are not nearly enough of us.” With that they headed towards the kitchen, where a bunch of children were sitting around a table, peeling potatoes, telling each other stories and laughing. Another monk was tending to a kettle over the fire.

Nix and Father Elias dumped the sacks on the floor. “Brother Larry, here are more provisions. Please see to it that they are stored correctly.” The head monk said, while Nix had sidled over to the children, praising their skills with a knife and asked where their friends were.

“The others are out in the garden,” one little boy chimed up.

“We’ll head there then, thanks.” Nix waved for Miles to follow.

On the way outside he explained, “The monks take in the children that I’m able to buy out of servitude. They feed them and teach them to read and write and when they are old enough they find them an apprenticeship in the city. Some of them come back here from time to time to help out or spare some of their hard earned wages to help others like them.”

There were happy screeches and laughter in the garden. Most of the smaller children were absorbed in a game of tag, while a couple of older ones had gathered under a walnut tree to read or sew.

Some came running up when they saw them and Nix handed out nuts and dried fruit to the delight of the children. Miles stayed in the background while the phoenix chatted with them for a while. Miles was painfully reminded of his own childhood. Of running around with the gang that always hung out around the stables, of playing games of logic with his father.

He had always worked hard on his academic achievements, but never had to scrub floors or muck out stables to make sure the rest of his family didn’t starve.

After a while Father Elias joined them and started to talk with Nix about provisions and the two of them discussed how much the phoenix would be able to provide over the next couple of weeks, so they could fill their stores before winter came.

Miles cleared his throat and addressed Nix. “So, let me get this straight. You rob nobles and the crown to distribute money and goods to poor people and to buy children back from peonage and fund these monks helping them?”

Nix shrugged and glared at him. “Under the current laws, it’s the only way.”

Father Elias nodded firmly, a stern expression on his face. “It really is a disgrace what this kingdom turned into after King Gregory’s death. I really thought his son would make a better king.”

It took all of Miles’ self-restraint to not throw off his hood and have the monk thrown into the dungeons on the spot. A warm hand settled on his lower back, grounding him and Nix said quietly, “As I have told you repeatedly, father, I’m sure King Miles is just as kind as King Gregory, deep down. It’s the regent, who turned him into what he is right now. Our scheme will work.”

Miles had no idea what scheme Nix was talking about, but the quiet confidence in the phoenix’s voice soothed his anger.

Suddenly there was a commotion from the house and Brother Larry came running out, a piece of parchment clasped in his raised fist, the gaggle of little kitchen helpers hard on his heels.

“It happened!” Larry shouted, a frightened look on his face. He skidded to a halt in front of them and thrust the parchment towards Nix. It was adorned with the royal seal and unmistakably bore Lord von Karma’s signature.

Before either of the others could take it, Miles snatched the parchment out of the brother’s shaking hand.

He read it once, then again and still the words didn’t seem to make any sense.

Nix leaned over his shoulder to read the decree.

By the third read through, it had finally sunken in. Miles crumpled the parchment and let out a cry that bordered somewhere between outrage and despair. “He had me declared dead and put himself on the throne, after only two weeks?!”

He turned to Nix. “I have to get back!”

Ignoring the monks who both stared at him open mouthed and stormed back towards the house.

“Wait!” Nix shouted and ran after him. “We can’t just storm the castle. We need a plan.”

Miles stopped and stared at Nix. “We?”

“Of course I’ll help you get your throne back. Provided you promise to act on what you learned today,” the phoenix said firmly.

For a moment they just glared at each other, then Miles shook himself, looked over at the children who had all crowded around the monks asking what was going on. Then he nodded.

“You have my word. Now, let’s get planning.”

Chapter Text

The ride back to Nix’s home went by in a blur. Miles felt betrayed and angry and found it hard to reconcile the last ten or so years with what was happening now. Hadn't he tried his best to internalise Lord von Karma’s teachings? Hadn’t he shown loyalty to him and his ideals?

And now he had been declared dead after a mere two weeks. He wondered about Sir Gumshoe and Franziska. Had they also given up on him?

But then again, no one ever stood up to the former regent. King now - Miles thought glumly, gritting his teeth. Lord von Karma stood above everyone, a beacon of strength and perfection during trying times. Why then, did he not honour my efforts? A tiny voice in the back of his head asked.

His gaze went to Nix who was riding a bit ahead of Miles. Clearly a lot of people thought he had been a bad, tyrannical king, even though he had always striven to reach that elusive goal of perfection. What he learned today clearly showed that his kingdom was very far from perfect indeed. Had Lord von Karma seen that too? No, whispered that voice again. He didn’t care about the people as long as everything else ran smoothly.

Miles shook his head to dislodge that voice only for it to be replaced by something else. Nix had said that he believed that Miles could change, could turn things around.

He sighed deeply and for the first time since he was a child, wished that his father was still here to show him the way forward.

It took him a while to notice that they had slowed down and he tried to calm his racing thoughts. They stopped at the foot of the cliff and Nix beckoned for him to get ready to fly up again.

The sun was about to set and bathed them in a low, reddish light that made Nix’s wings look like they were on fire.

For a moment all Miles could do was stare in awe, everything else forgotten.

Nix gave him a gentle smile and guided him into his arms before jumping into the air and taking them up to his hideout.

Soon he found himself on the sofa, while Nix got a fire going. “I’ll make some tea,” the phoenix promised, “Dinner will have to be something quick though in favour of planning.” He placed some bread and cheese on the table after setting the kettle over the flames.

They talked and planned well into the night. When Miles was finally in bed, his bad leg throbbing painfully after the day’s activities, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all, but the tea Nix had given him did its job and he fell asleep surprisingly fast.

-

The next day Miles had difficulties keeping to the plan. Nix had to remind him several times that he needed some rest and they both needed to be sure that their allies were still loyal, before they could proceed.

Therefore, shortly after sunrise, Nix left with a letter from Miles, bearing his seal and signature, to rally the faithful and let them know their king was still alive.

It was risky, but Nix had admitted to already being friends with the court magician, Maya Fey, and had been positive that they would be able to convince Sir Gumshoe of the authenticity of the letter, since Miles had been pretty sure that Gumshoe was loyal to him first and foremost.

So, with a restless heart and no small amount of anxiety Miles watched Nix fly off.

The phoenix had tried his best to assure the king that their plan was solid and would surely work, but still Miles fell from one anxious thought to the next. Were their allies truly loyal? Were they even still alive? Maybe Gumshoe was rotting down in the dungeons, because he had let the king be killed? Did Nix actually trust Miles, because he still hadn’t shown his face? And why did the phoenix have to be so damn handsome?

That last one jolted Miles out of his spiral.

What an odd thought to have during all this. It was true though. Nix was nothing like he had imagined him to be. Instead of the ugly, ruthless criminal Miles had expected, the phoenix was beautiful and kind, compassionate and determined to serve the people. Exactly how his father had taught Miles how a king should be.

He sighed and let himself fall back onto the bed.

Maybe he could persuade Nix to stay after Miles got his throne back. He needed someone to hold him accountable, to help him make the right choices.

Yes.

That was the reason.

The fact that he wanted to be back in Nix’s arms like he was when they were flying had nothing to do with it whatsoever...

-

It was already dark when Nix got back and Miles was pacing, fearing the worst. So when the door opened and the phoenix walked in, smiling like all was well, Miles walked up to him and slapped him hard in the face.

Nix recoiled and stared at him. “What was that for?”

Miles felt his cheeks burn a bright red. “Sorry,” he mumbled and turned away quickly. What was wrong with him? He needed Nix, godsdamnit!

He cleared his throat to fill the awkward silence. “You took quite long. Did you manage to complete the mission?” he said in the end like nothing had happened. All Nix did was scratch his neck and grin sheepishly.

Good, they were ignoring his tantrum. Miles was relieved.

“Yes, all went well. It did turn out to be a bit more complicated though, since Sir Gumshoe is confined to his quarters for the time being. But Maya said she could make something so we can break the lock by magical means,” Nix explained.

“Right,” Miles took a deep breath. “So... tomorrow then?”

Without warning Nix stepped up and hugged him. “Tomorrow,” he said softly. “Don’t worry, all will be well.”

It took a while for Miles to register what was happening and when he did, he froze. Only a few hours earlier he had dreamt of being in the phoenix’s arms; now that he was, he couldn’t move a muscle. Nix seemed unperturbed though and just held him and after a while Miles’ arms wound themselves around Nix’s sides and he clung to his back almost as tightly as if they were in midair.

When the phoenix finally pulled back, Miles suddenly felt the loss of his warmth deep within his bones. He let his head hang low to hide his flushed cheeks and only shrugged, when Nix ushered him off to bed.

-

The next day Nix woke him at sunrise. They flew down and found the horses ready, like the day before yesterday. Miles made a mental note to ask the phoenix who took care of the horses and their delivery, but right now all he could think about was the day ahead and what it might bring.

To his surprise, the capital wasn’t so far away. After an hour and a half on horseback the surrounding walls were clearly visible, along with the towers of the castle and temples.

They didn’t go to any of the gates, but hid the horses in the woods close to the magician’s citadelle.

“Maya promised to leave a window open for us,” Nix said, indicating that Miles should get ready to fly.

When he stepped up to the phoenix he hid his face in his hood, trying to think about anything but yesterday night. He couldn’t get distracted now, this was crucial! Get to Master Fey for the magical key, go and free Gumshoe, gather the loyal guardsmen and get ready to storm the throne room once von Karma had settled in for an audience. He went through the details in his head when Phoenix held him tightly and swooped up into the air towards the tower.

The landing on the windowsill was its very own horror. Nix let go of him to hold onto the window frame with one hand, pushing Miles towards the opening with the other. Miles scrambled inside, almost falling off the ledge and ended up sitting at the feet of the small court mage.

Master Fey hid her mouth behind one hand and fell into a deep curtsey, only barely managing to hide her giggles.

“You’re majesty, it’s so good to see you alive and well!” she exclaimed.

Nix helped him up while asking, “How have things been here, Maya? Does he suspect?”

Master Fey shook her head. “No. We were careful only to invite a handful of guards we are sure to be loyal to King Miles. Gumshoe agreed that if everything goes to plan, nothing more will be needed. Captain Badd is going to make sure that all of them are placed close to the throne. The others will fall in line as soon as they see you,” there she bowed her head at Miles, “And Sir Gumshoe together.”

Nix gazed at the clock on the mantle. “Right, give us the key, Maya, it’s time to get Gumshoe out.”

Master Fey pulled a dully glowing piece of wood out of her robes and handed it to the phoenix. “There you go, please be careful!” Then she hugged Nix and bowed deeply to Miles before ushering them towards the window.

“Wait, how are we getting to Sir Gumshoe’s lodgings?” Miles asked with trepidation. He did not fancy climbing on that window sill again.

“Through the window of course!” Nix grinned. “No one will see us coming and Gumshoe is instructed to leave it open for us.”

Miles groaned inwardly. There was nothing for it, if he wanted his throne back, he had to climb out of that window and allow himself to be flown over to the other side of the castle.

Thankfully neither Nix nor Master Fey commented on how long he took and how tightly he held onto first the window frame, then the phoenix and before he could even close his eyes they were up in the air again, soaring high over the castle grounds, before quietly landing in front of Gumshoe’s suit who - oh thank goodness - had a balcony where Nix could set them down comfortably.

They entered the rooms only for Gumshoe to throw himself sobbing onto the floor before Miles. “Your majesty!” the man cried. “You’re safe! You’re alive!”

It was all Miles could do to prevent him from trying to kiss his feet.

“Do get up, Gumshoe! While I am grateful for your loyalty, this display is thoroughly unbecoming,” Miles grumbled. He threw a sour glance at Nix who had a hard time hiding his laughter, but he soon pulled himself together and the magical key out of his pocket.

Nix stared at Miles and Gumshoe in turn and asked, “Are you ready, my lords?”

Both men nodded grimmly.

Chapter Text

Nix inserted the magical key into the lock, and it clicked open instantly. He carefully peered out the door and when he was sure that the coast was clear, waved for Miles and Gumshoe to follow him and headed down the servant’s staircase that led them to the kitchens. None of the chefs or other staff paid them any attention as they hurried past several covered bowls and two kitchen boys chopping carrots.

Then they followed along another servant’s passage until Nix stopped behind some suits of armour that concealed the entrance from the grand foyer leading up to the throne room.

He put his finger to his lips to implore them to stay silent and peered carefully around the armour, but there was no one in the hall. They started up again and vanished behind another hidden door that led to a storage area. Amongst dusty crates and moth-eaten robes stood the grim figure of Captain Badd, chewing on a piece of dried sugar beet.

The captain bowed as much as possible in such a crammed space then whispered, “Everything is set up as instructed. I will go to my post now. Once you hear the fanfare give it a good ten minutes for everything to settle before you enter the throne room.”

Miles nodded. “Thank you for your efforts, captain, your loyalty won’t be forgotten.”

Another awkward bow and Badd left quietly.

Nix looked around, grabbed one of the old robes, cleaned the dust of three of the boxes and motioned for them to sit down. All they could do now was wait. Again.

Somehow Miles managed to keep himself from sighing repeatedly, his thoughts roaming around in his head, like a dog chasing its tail. He was so absorbed in trying to keep it together, that he jumped when the fanfare sounded.

A hand on his shoulder kept him grounded. Nix beamed at him as if nothing could go wrong, then nodded to Gumshoe who stood up, adjusting his sword belt, looking grim. Miles and Nix both took off their cloaks. To his great surprise, there was no hint of wings on the phoenix.

At Miles look of confusion, Nix explained quietly, “I can appear fully human, it’s just more comfortable to leave the wings out.” He smiled softly at Miles and for a moment they were lost in each other’s stares, then Sir Gumshoe cleared his throat.

“It’s time to go, Sire.”

Miles tore his eyes away from Nix and nodded. “Let’s go.”

He tried to walk confidently while his insides churned with a cold mix of anxiety and rage. No matter what happened now, his life would be drastically different - like all those years ago after the accident.

Only this time he was not swept along by fate; this time he held the reins. At least he hoped he did.

Just before they reached the doors to the throne room, he once again looked at Nix. Even without his wings, he cut a striking figure. All Miles could do was hope, that even after he fulfilled his side of the bargain, the phoenix wouldn’t disappear. Miles really wanted him in his life to some capacity.

They shared another nod and soon were walking up the steps to the throne room entrance.

The guards there stared open mouthed at their former king. One of them raised his hand to his sword, while the other was frantically waving him away, bowing deeply, muttering. “Your majesty!”

Guard number one was frozen to the spot, not least because both Nix and Gumshoe were staring at him.

The commotion they caused was not very big, but still people turned their heads and Miles was instantly recognized. A murmur rose among the crowd, and he picked up the pace to get close to the throne before von Karma had the chance to spot him. Currently he was talking to a couple of lords Miles knew as ruthless and cruel.

Miles wasn’t quite as far as he wanted to be by the time von Karma looked up and stared straight at him.

For a second, he could see the surprise, maybe even terror in the usurper king’s eyes, then his usual stern expression was back, and he opened his arms widely. “Miles, my boy, you’re alive!”

That single sentence coalesced all of Miles’ anger and dread into one single purpose.

“Certainly not thanks to your efforts,” he said coldly. “I know for a fact that no one was searching for me. Instead, you crowned yourself king after only a fortnight. This is an act of treason.”

At that Franziska stepped out, her swords drawn. “What is this, Miles Edgeworth? After everything papa did for you, you repay him by accusing him of treason for taking care of the kingdom?”

Von Karma put a hand on Franziska’s shoulder. “There, there, Franziska, I’m sure we can solve this to everyone’s satisfaction.”

“There are only two solutions. Either you step down and go into exile, or I will have you arrested for treason. I have witnesses who can attest to the fact that there was no search effort to rescue me, but a motion for you to be crowned king was put in after only a week of my disappearance and executed seven days later.”

He looked at his sister. “I’m sorry Franziska, but he had no intention of having me recovered from my predicament.”

The girl stood there seething. “Bring forth your witnesses then!” she demanded.

At this Miles waved Gumshoe forward. “Your statement if you please, Sir Gumshoe.”

The man looked gravely first at Franziska, then at Lord von Karma, then at Miles before he began. “I lost you during the hunt and that was entirely my fault. But when I returned with the news that the king was missing, I was instantly placed under house arrest by Lord von Karma. Captain Badd later reported, that forming search parties was actively discouraged, apparently due an expected ‘imminent attack on the capital’ that never came.

“It was proclaimed that the vigilante who had been harassing nobles had now either kidnapped or even killed the king. After not receiving a ransom note for a week, Lord von Karma declared King Miles dead against the explicit wishes of most of the members of the inner court. Master Fey can attest to this.”

The silence in the throne room was so absolute, that one could have heard a pin drop. Miles let Sir Gumshoe’s statement sink in for a moment, then called for Master Fey to give hers.

She stepped forward and nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Sir Gumshoe. I was there at the meeting of the inner court, when Lord von Karma put in the motion to have King Miles declared dead. Three out of five members of the court were against the motion, but after severe threats were made against them and their families, they finally agreed just to keep their own safe.”

A murmur ran through the crowd at those words and Franziska lowered her swords, looking at her father in shock.

Von Karma himself growled, “No one else will corroborate those ridiculous claims!”

At this Captain Badd and two members of the inner council stepped forward. Lord Fender and Lady Gavèlle both spoke up in favour of Master Fey’s testimony. Captain Badd confirmed the truth of Sir Gumshoe’s words.

Miles glared steadily at von Karma. “You are a liar and a traitor and hereby stripped of all rank and powers. Sir Gumshoe, Captain Badd, arrest him.”

Both guardsmen stepped up and dragged von Karma away who was screaming with rage, cursing Miles and threatening him with revenge.

Miles looked over at Franziska just standing there, looking entirely lost and even younger than she truly was. He wanted so badly to go over there and comfort her, but right now he had to be king first and foremost.

Calm and dignified Miles climbed the steps to the throne. When he turned around there was a tense silence in the throne room. People expected the old Miles.

For a moment, he pondered what the King Miles of two weeks ago would do now and recoiled from what would likely have been a speech full of self-righteousness and condescension.

The King Miles of today did something else entirely. He picked up the heavy crown that always rested on a cushion next to the throne during audiences - mainly because no one wanted to wear such a heavy thing for several hours straight - and put it on his head.

Then he said in a loud and clear voice, “People of Japanifornia, over the last fortnight I learned some truths about myself, this kingdom and its people. Not all of them were very comfortable, quite the contrary. Therefore, I have decided that some changes are in order. Most of them will be planned and discussed in the inner council, but as of immediately all the recent tax increases are rendered null and void.”

What followed these words could no longer be called a murmur but was not quite an uproar either. Either way it was halted by Miles raising his hand. “I was reminded that a king has a duty towards his subjects, not just the other way around. I swear that henceforth I will always adhere to this duty.”

This time the noise could no longer be contained. Cheers, applause and laughter erupted all over the throne room that seemed to go on forever. Miles looked out over the people, saw the guardsmen beaming brightly, Master Fey and her fellow councilors talking excitedly and to the side was Nix, a gentle smile on his face as he loomed at Miles fondly.

For the first time since he was crowned, he was content. The tension of the last few days fell off him and suddenly he felt unbelievably tired and the pain in his leg reminded him that he had been injured not so long ago.

He put the crown back on its cushion, nodded towards the people gathered closest to the throne and left for his rooms, rest sounded very enticing right now.

-

When Miles awoke it took him some time to realize that he was in his own bedroom in the castle and not in Nix’s hideout.

The thought of Nix sent a stab to his heart. After the confrontation in the throne room and taking back his crown he had been so out of it, that he hadn’t even said goodbye to his savior, and now that Miles had sworn to change some laws and make life better for his people, Nix no longer had a reason to come to the castle.

Sure, he was a friend of the Master Mage, but that did not include Miles.

He was flooded by a huge sadness, as he dragged himself out of bed. It was dark outside. Judging by the moon being visible through the doors to the balcony, it was probably around midnight. After sleeping all afternoon, he doubted he would get much more sleep tonight.

He opened to the doors and went outside onto the balcony. The night was warm, though the light breeze made him shiver slightly. It had been out here, that he had encountered Nix for the very first time, being threatened with his own dagger.

Miles leaned against the banister, shaking his head at himself for thinking about the encounter fondly.

There was a soft sound behind him. - Could it be?

He didn’t turn around but waited with baited breath. Two arms slid around his waist and a familiar voice whispered, “Good evening, your majesty,” right by his ear.

Miles couldn’t help but smile. “I thought you no longer had a reason to drop in like this. But you’re welcome to take any valuable object you find.”

“Is that so?” He could hear the grin in Nix’s voice. “Well, I happen to hold what I am here for already.”

“What?” Miles turned around confusedly, noting that Nix’s hands never left his middle.

The phoenix’s smile was intoxicating. “What do you think? I won’t be satisfied with anything less than the king.”

Miles felt dizzy. Was Nix really implying what he thought he did?

“There’s also something I wanted to show you,” Nix continued when Miles said nothing.

At first Miles didn’t notice, but soon he saw that the mask Nix always wore vanished feather by feather until he could see his whole face. The eyebrows were a peculiar shape, but his eyes were soft and kind and were looking warmly at Miles.

“Thank you...” he whispered, slowly raising his hand and cupping the phoenix’s cheek, marveling how soft the skin was where the feathers had just been. Unbidden his eyes fell down towards Nix’s lips.

“So...” Nix said softly, “Would you say it is alright for me to keep you?”

Miles nodded dazedly. “Gladly,” he breathed and leaned forward.

Their lips met in a short but sweet kiss, like neither of them could really believe what was happening. When they broke apart, they were staring at each other for a moment, then Nix laughed delightedly. “When all of this started, I never thought I’d steal myself a king.”

Miles grinned. “I wouldn’t know about that. Seems to me I am just keeping a dangerous individual close,” he said, before diving in for a more daring kiss.

When they came up for air, Nix whispered against his lips, “Does keeping me close mean I can share the bed with you this time?”

“Of course!” With that Miles grabbed Nix’s hand and pulled him back inside. While sleep was out of reach anyway, there were other things a bed was good for, and he intended to explore quite a few of them together with Nix.

Suddenly the future was looking very bright indeed.