Chapter Text
Heels tapped against the marble floors of the dark hallways, Blackrocks harsh winter winds battered the walls, howling and echoing until the otherwise silent place was a cacophony. If you listened closely, beyond the unbearably loud screams of the wind and slamming of windows attempting to bend against its will, you could hear whispers of a time long forgotten.
Paintings hung on the walls, lining the opposite side of the walkway from the ceiling high windows, the paint long bleached from exposure to the harsh sunlight. A dark blue, nearly black veil hung over one in particular, holes were worn into the fabric but it wasn't entirely destroyed. The faces of the people in the painting were obscured, the canvas torn. It was otherwise in near pristine condition, it must have been important to who remained.
Not like they were here any longer - Stargazer was alone, he knew that much. The glass littered on the floor and inphernals in painting who he never knew were his only companions. It made him long for a time he remembered. He remembered the starlit courtyards, the dancing and the orchestra that would hum softly through the halls long after the party was over.
The observatory that sat tucked in the mountainside, the large castle sat on, the halls that once held the feeling of companionship and closeness. Now reduced to this. The visitor almost wanted to laugh, but it was a cruel kind of irony. It wasn't funny in any way to him. So he kept walking.
At the end of the hall, he came to a set of stairs. He took one last look behind him before descending down, back to the first floor. The halls here were similar to the ones he'd just been in , but these were lined with doors leading to smaller pathways, guest rooms, and many other things he could only faintly remember now.
He knew there was a ballroom, and he remembered the discourse its usefulness caused. He smiled, recalling such petty arguments, but it didn't reach his eyes. He kept walking, until he reached a massive room. It was shrouded in darkness from the snow that had piled up against the windows, only shreds of moonlight came in through the tips of the windows and holes in the ceiling leading to the upper floors where the light filtered in far more easily.
He swore he felt a breeze, so he turned to look around. No one was there. Stargazer walked along the now torn and rugged carpet that led up to…
The throne.
Above it sat a painting, of a man who looked eerily similar to himself in some ways. He walked up the short stairs and placed a hand on the now freezing metal. Not like it was used much before…everything.
"I've never been the type to sit on a throne all day."
Stargazer turned his head. Hearing the curtains of a distant room flutter as the words echoed in his head. No one was here, but he felt as if someone was.
He sighed a long breath he didn't know he was holding, before he slid down to the ground against the throne. Leaning his head against it. He could rest, for a while, before he'd have to continue on.
It's no use sticking around in a graveyard.
-☆-
The wind gently fluttered through the curtains hanging over the open windows, the lukewarm spring air warming the slight chill that would hang around otherwise. The final stand of winter, the snow laying on guardrails and the highest peaks of ceilings, were beginning to fade.
The sound of birds and distant yelling from the town within the surrounding walls of the castle drastically mirrored the deathly silence of winter, and it felt warm, even without the chill the wind still blasted through windows and open doors. The world finally felt alive once more.
The halls of the castle however were echoing with the bickering voices of two people, one far younger, aggressive and louder than the smooth and tired tone of the others.
The boy, wearing relatively dirty clothes fashioned in a way similar to those seen within the towns, was being dragged through the hall by an inphernal whose name he hadn't bothered to remember. His hair was tangled, half brushed from a sad attempt at taming it for the past hour or so, face twisted into a scowl as he was dragged along.
The inphernal fussed, their eyes flicking back to him for a second.
"You're lucky his majesty likes you. I wouldn't deal with a child this rebellious any other way."
He stuck his tongue out. But they didn't seem to notice as they turned sharply into another room. Where a new set of clothes were shoved into his hands.
"Change. I'll come back in 30 minutes."
And with that, they turned and left.
He looked down at the fancy dress clothes he was given, growled at them like they threatened him and dropped them on the floor.
Yeah right.
The room seemed to be gilded with silver in every way, the bedframe, the trim of the walls and the minimal decoration. The floor and walls were just white. Everything was clean, pristine, orderly.
He scoffed and walked over to the door as the maids' footsteps faded down the hall, no guards, seriously? Royalty was just as stupid as he remembered them. He slipped out into the hall and made a break down the hall, the place was labyrinthine to him, towering windows and the slight chill in the air. He was too busy looking behind him, as if he was expecting a painting to come to life and report his escape.
He kept running, snickering to himself when he heard no panic over the missing child, he had more than enough time to jump out of a window somewhere and-
Then, he slammed into something, someone.
Tumbling back down to the floor, he made a small noise of rage and looked up.
"Hey you! Big guy!"
He shouted. Tail lashing on the ground behind him as he shoved dark hair out of his own face. He glared at the strangers back. Opening his mouth and shouting angrily,
"Watch where you're standing, why dontcha!? "
"Rocket, was it?"
He stiffened, straightening up.
"Yeah! What's it to you?"
As he turned to face the boy, Rockets eyes widened.
The king. Seriously? What horrible stroke of HORRIBLE luck-
His thoughts were cut off by a hand being offered to him. Nearly twice the size of his own. Zuka, that was his name, towered over him in practically every way.
Height, status, strength, power.
Something vile settled on his tongue , but he held it. He took the king's hand and was brought to his feet.
"I figured you'd run, or try too. You're heading the wrong way, you know?"
Rocket didn't relax, but he almost felt like he somehow stiffened more.
"Yeah, obviously you wouldn't go looking for a runaway in the opposite direction of the entrance."
A lie, he had no idea where he was going. But maybe if he tried to convince this so-called king he knew one thing or another, he'd leave him to his devices and stop sending servants to him.
He could leave.
But he didint exactly know where he'd go.
"You've been causing quite the ruckus you know, terrorizing my servants and guards."
"Good."
He laughed? That only seemed to irritate Rocket further. His tail twitched as he clenched his fists.
"If you're expecting me to "calm down". It's not going to work. You took me"
"I took you in. At that moment you seemed all too willing to come with me."
Rocket glanced at his arm. Or where it should be. And grimaced again, gritting his teeth and not responding.
"If you truly want to leave. Be my guest, spitfire."
He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. Seconds passed into at least a minute, where they stood there, staring at one another. Spitfire? Really? If he thought for a second he was gonna get away with stupid nicknames just because hes some stupid king-
"I thought you would've ran for the hills by now."
"I'm not stupid. You probably have guards waiting at the end of this hall to snatch me up."
"You act as if you're my prisoner, son."
Was he not?
It almost felt as if Zuka read his mind with what he said next, could he do that!? No. Surely not.
"If you were, why would I give you free reign of my home?"
"Free reign? I'm dragged around by your servants half the time."
"You exaggerate. Besides, you've barely been here two days."
…
Rocket fell silent, again.
"Come with me."
As Zuka turned and began to walk away, he stayed frozen for what felt like hours, but in reality it was only a few seconds before he was dragging his feet along, following him down the hall. They walked for a while, in silence.
The king wore a jacket that hung from his shoulders, the fur collar and hood shielding the back of his head, and it looked like a cape the way he was wearing it. It jingled with the weight of worn and dulled silver jewelry.
It was another while before the king spoke, they came into a large, open room, with a ceiling taller than the hallways and a grand door at one end, the one they came in on. Royal blue and silver carpets ran through the room, and up to a fittingly silver throne. It wasn't anything too special, carved out of some kind of dark wood with the symbol of the kingdom engraved in the backboard.
Rocket scoffed.
“Did you just wanna show me your fancy throne old man?”
He gritted his teeth again, the silver caught the light but didn't burn his eyes. He still hated it, if he didn't know any better he would've summoned his gear and exploded the thing already. Did he really know better, though? It was tempting.
“No. Hah, I've never been the type to sit on a throne and do nothing all day, like some of the powers in this world.”
He let out a sigh. Head turning to face Rocket again.
“But, as you have pointed out,many times, I'm old, compared to you. My days of war and glory are far behind me.”
Rocket snickered at that. His boots thudded against the floors as he stomped forwards, looking around in a full circle before crossing his arms and basically glaring at the king.
“Sounds like you do just sit on your throne all day.”
Rocket snorted.
“In that you are wrong, I spend most of my time now out there. Away from the castle. The only reason I've spent so much time in it now is you.”
That shut him up. He resisted the instinct to tilt his head to the side and give another comment that probably should've gotten him beheaded at this point.
“See, the first time I was in this room, I was like you. A son, standing before the king. Now of course I was spawned into nobility. In that we are far different.”
“You had parents.”
“That too.”
Rocket seethed, he hated that there was a connection trying to be made. He hated that everything about this.
Part of him couldn't help but feel somewhat fine with this situation, under the protection of an important figure was better than running around the back alleys of a city where everyone hated eachother.
But Rocket hates everyone here anyhow, not a great tradeoff.
"Rebellious, Angry and with a taste for battle larger than me. A taste of glory, you don't seem to share that sentiment, though."
"I-"
Rocket starts, half-yelling.
"You were doing it to survive. My actions were silly in comparison. I'm trying to extend my hand to you."
"Why me."
"Hm?"
"Why me? Out of any peasant you could've chose out there."
"Well, a child missing an arm is going to be more important than one with intact limbs. Besides, that only makes something we have in common."
…
How did Rocket only just now notice ? He nearly cursed himself under his breath for not making the observation the king was infact missing an arm. However, the tied sleeve was hidden under his coat-cape thing, and genuinley his entire outfit was the same stark black and dark grey.
Boring.
"Think about it. I'd love to have you stay."
Apparently , he'd continued talking while Rocket was focused on the fact he entirely forgot about the arm thing. And honestly, he wasn't sure if he even had a chance out there down an arm. He certainly couldn't return to the battle-centric jungle kingdoms of Playground. And the factions there certainly wouldn't take him in.
Then Rocket was left alone in the hall, as the heavy footsteps faded off elsewhere in the castle. He turned and glared up at the empty ceiling above the throne. Like if he looked at it hard enough, the entire place would just. Dissapear. So he didint have to feel so conflicted.
A growl rose in his throat, but it was quiet. No one came to bother him now. He walked over to the stairs and sat down on them. Staring up at the ceiling defeatedly.
He didint really have a choice but to stay.