Chapter Text
A joyful noise came from Kinger's pillow fort, calming yet energetic, flowing in the quietness of the dark circus. The Moon shined its dim light through the cracks of the tent, focusing all of its might on the small fort like a spotlight announcing the presence of the host on a stage. A gentle laugh, flowing like a butterfly that softened his heart caused the humming to ease for a single moment. Pushing to the side the soft and squishy pillow model at the front of his lovely fort, the young king chess piece prepared for his eyes to adjust to the familiar pitch black atmosphere of the enclosed area. His eyes squinted, however, when he was met with a pair of two big glowing eyes, gently illuminating the corners of the pillows and reflecting on the small bits of the glassy tiled floor that showed themselves over the pile of papers scattered around. The gums around the eyes were shaped up in a smile, vibrating slowly from the low humming.
Now that he was closer, he could confidently make out the scribbling of pencils complimenting the humble tune. One stopped as it heard him clear his throat. Standing beside the eye-straining bright presence, a beautiful black chess piece looked at Kinger with smiling eyes and took his breath away like it always does.
"Are we having a secret party without me?" He joked, earning a chuckle that only widened his ghost smile.
Caine shot up at his voice, excitement reflecting in his shinny eyes that were even brighter now that he was hovering in the air.
"OH WHY HELLO, FATHER FIGURE!!" Kinger smiled despite his confusion, his dear wife rolling her eyes in good nature
"Dad, sweetie, call him dad" she gently suggested, her hand softly resting on the ringmasters shoulder as if trying to keep him from jumping higher in the air like the over energized child she and Kinger saw him as.
Caine stood motionless as if he was looking for something he could remember having a second ago. An earlier conversation popped into his head and his entire frame bounced in realization, raising a finger matter-of-factly.
"AH, YES OF COURSE, 'DAD' AND 'MOM' ARE MORE...EH"
He paused, his finger literally deflating as he spared a glance at the patient Queenie. Kinger heard her whisper a word, a laugh escaping, and Caine's index finger popped into place, waving every which way around him.
"CA-ZSU-AL! AND COMFY! AND ITS IN MY BEST NATURE TO ENSURE EVERYONE'S COMFYNESS IN THE CIRCUS!!"
Queenie clapped silently, patting Caine's top gums once he took his seat on the floor next to her. Caine flushed in embarrassment at the gesture, and, as if he hadn't just screamed at the top of his artificial lungs, quietly continued to scribble on his paper. As if it were her sign, Queenie snapped her attention to Kinger, unable to hold her joy.
"Did you see that?! I taught him something! A-and he used it in conversation!!" She was practically beaming, jumping from enthusiasm, prideful to have achieved what her husband has managed to do with Caine for as long as he's been alive. Kinger's body softened whenever he saw her so happy, his soul lifted when he heard her laugh and somehow knew that despite it all he was content.
Lost in his sea of endless admiration, he hadn't noticed Queenie pick up a piece of paper from the many laying on the black tiled floor.
"And and!" She continued, adjusting her grip on the digital paper. Messy sketches of human hands, caterpillars, butterflies and a silly doodle of cross eyed Caine stood next to a mix of perfectly straight lines and circles that looked like bees, bees and more bees, other shapes that didn't resemble anything in specific and two circles atop a long vertical rectangle with the word 'mom!' written on top of it.
"I'm teaching him how to draw! He's a Creative AI, right? What's more creative than art!"
She tenderly stroked the top of Caine's gums, as if thanking him for their lovely time together. A small noise escaped him, almost like a toddler's squeak.
Teaching Caine anything had proven difficult for anyone who wasn't Kinger. More often than not, the little AI only listened to him and no one else. Despite this, the king isn't surprising his dear queen had managed to get through to him. She had such a charm to her, a light that beamed from her at all times and shined on everyone she met.
"He really likes bees" she said, semi confused
Caine maneuvered out of her touch to reach a piece of paper at the far end of the floor.
"THEY'RE SUCH WONDERFUL LITTLE CREATURES!" His pupils had grown an abnormal size, glossy and colorful at the mere mention of the flying bugs.
He let the paper float in the air next to him as he darted his eyes between his simple sketch and his found parents sitting apposed to him.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK OF MY VEEERY FIRST ARTWORK!?" What could only be described as a bunch of circles placed next to each other in varying size and succession filled the page.
"He's still learning, the cutie" Queenie whispered, Kinger attempted not to snicker.
"I'm so happy you're interested in art, Caine!" She said, hopefully drowning the small chance that Caine heard her little comment. "We finally have something fun to do together!"
"THAT WE DO, MOTHER!" She sighed, at least he's getting closer.
"NOW!" With animated motions, he pushed his paper to the side and scooted closer to Queenie
"COULD YOU...PERHAPS..." he cleared his throat, unconsciously resting his head on what would be Queenie's shoulder.
"Could you tell me more about these...'beez'?"
She smiled so fondly she could almost feel her mouth
"What's the magic word, sweetie?"
"Please, please, please, PUL-EASE!"
A high chuckle followed his booming voice and Queenie began to recite all she knew about these adorable bugs that Caine had found such a fascination with. She told him about their hives hierarchy, about the way they produced the gooey golden substance the humans adored, how she found it fascinating that they could fly with their small thin wings.
With his wife's voice in the background Kinger looked over the papers scattered around the floor. The one that Caine was scribbling on earlier caught his attention quickly. Illuminated only the slightest bit, the paper held a sketch of a square with eyes and a stick body, hovering happily above two rectangles with eyes, one slightly colored in with pencil, holding hands with each other. The one that wasn't colored was also holding hands with the floating stick figure. Something odd filled Kinger's chest, akin to love, but not quite like the ever growing one he felt for his wife. It was a different kind of love, though just as strong. He looked at Caine, staring fondly at Queenie, his mom, and taking in every word she was speaking. Either it was because he liked to listen to her talk or he just liked bees that much, Kinger wasn't sure.
What he was sure of was that right here, in this digital prison, with his wife's hand in his and her voice stroking his ears, surrounded by drawings of bees from the hands of his own lovable little bumblebee, Kinger didn't feel trapped. He never truly has, and he never will, even when moments like these abruptly come to an end.