Chapter Text
Jack was bored.
Usually this was a bad sign for the palace staff and the palace itself, but today it was only bad for Jack.
It was a double tutoring session, and Sandy had remembered to lock the windows this time.
"So, are you sure I have to know how to 'hold a spoon the right way'? I mean, I'm not even allowed into the room when Pitch has guests over for meals— its not like I could start a war from eating soup alone on my bed." Jack twirled his staff around, one of the few "unprincely" things he was allowed anymore.
Sandy rolled his eyes and huffed before gesturing to Jack to do it then.
Jack grimaced, looking at the situation written down he was not paying attention to previously. After a few seconds, he tentatively reaches for the one second in from the side. Sandy wacks his hand away before he can make contact and points at the diagram once more.
"Sandy, I don't know how to tell you this, but it asked for the appetizer soup spoon, and that," Jack points at the offending page. "Says the second in from the side is the appetizer soup spoon." Jack wanted to sound smug, but really only sounded tired.
It's been 5 hours of nothing but etiquette so far— not one lick of strategy or reading or even the history of borders. At least that had cool stuff sometimes, but noooo, Jack just had to be subjected to the worst subject Known To Man.
Sandy shakes his head and shuffles over to his side of the table to demonstrate. He sits straight and elegantly, despite his feet barley touching the floor. He reaches for the utensil without looking at it, and pinches it with two fingers before transferring it to his right hand and sitting back his his perfect posture. He looked over at Jack before putting it back and gesturing to him once more.
"Look," Jack was getting frustrated. He gripped his staff a little tighter and stood up to pace. "I'm just not build for this, okay? I don't know the etiquette like you all do, and I just cant remember the past kings, or the proper way to address a duke, or ANY of them for that matter," Jack was starting to get worked up. He clenched his staff harder as he glared at the floor. "Or— or how to speak, or look, or to control my powers, or even the way to pick up a spoon!" Jack closed his eyes knocked his forehead against the staff, causing a section of the ornate Persian rug to get iced over. Jack's face crumpled in realization and so did he, falling face first on the couch miserably. "I'm not a real prince."
Sandy shuffled over and gave him a sympathetic pat on the head, ruffling his hair some. It brought at least a bit of a smile back to Jack's face. "Thanks, Sandy."
They sit like that for a moment; Jack grateful to have a break from the lessons, and Sandy grateful to not have to give them.
There was a knock at the door, and Tooth peaked her head in. "Hi, sorry, am I interrupting something?" Sandy shook his head and she sighed in relief. "That's good, because King Pitch has summoned you, Prince Jack."
Jack grumbled, as usual, "It's just 'Jack.'" Also as usual, everyone ignored this.
Sandy's face fell and he signed something that Jack couldn't see from his position of 'face down on couch to erase the woes'.
Tooth hummed in slight worry and tapped her foot. "Maybe? I'm not sure, but based on the minsters of war having more meetings with him, its very possible." whoa, wait, ministers of war and Jack in neighboring sentences? Jack sat up and looked at Tooth questioningly.
Sandy signed again.
"I mean, based off the letter you sent and Jack being summoned, I'd say there's some pretty clear evidence," evidence to what??? "But we should ask Bunnymund just to be certain. Or, well, we could always just ask Jack when he gets out. Either way we'll find out soon, I suppose."
"Hold up," Jack sat up and put a hand up to pause Sandy's reply. "Whats happening? You two are having a conversation about me, in front of me, and not telling me anything. Maybe fill the guy in?"
Tooth wrung her hands and amended, "Well, its not exactly about you, just…" She looks at Sandy and he shrugs. "Just contains you."
Jack gave her a pointed glare and she caved. "Alright, fine. Yes, its kind of about you, but we really shouldn't be gossiping about politics."
Jack gaped at her. "You cant say stuff like that and then NOT tell me!"
Tooth looked at him apologetically. "Here, I have to bring you to a meeting with Pitch, right? I have a feeling most of what contains you will be answered in it." At Jack's unimpressed look, she continued. "How about you go to that, and then when you get out me or Sandy will fill you in on the rest?"
Jack studied her for a few more seconds, before sighing and flopping back onto the couch. "Yeah, sure. That works."
Tooth clapped her hands relieved, and stepped up to the couch to drag Jack away. "Lets get you to that meeting, then!" Jack groaned and scooched behind Sandy for safety. Sandy rolled his eyes fondly and starts poking him on the cheek.
"Sandy, you're meant to be on my side!"
Sandy signed a simple, No.
Jack groaned again.
Tooth huffs and sets a hand on Jack's shoulder. "I know meetings with your grandfather tend to go…" she trailed off, searching for the word.
"disastrous?" Jack supplied.
"Unideally, but you've made a lot of progress in court equate recently. I'm sure if you just remember to not undermine his authority it will all be fine!"
"Me existing undermines his authority."
Tooth faltered slightly and sighed. "That's not your fault. The king may be… prideful, but hes not unreasonable. You're his family— he doesn't hold it against you."
Sandy chimed in, If he did, you would still be a commoner.
"How kind, Sandy."
Sandy gave thumbs up and grinned.
—
Jack stood in front of the doors into the throne room, where his grandfather would be waiting for him. They were massive, spanning at least triple Jack's height, if not more. They were made of solid stained oak, with ornate carvings all over.
When Jack first got to the palace, he was afraid they would fall on him if he even dared touch the handle. He knows better, now. Pitch would never stand to have failing infrastructure in his palace.
Emily's still scared of it, though.
Jack ran his fingers along the groves. They felt familiar in a way he could never quite place, but maybe it was just all the time he spent standing in this exact spot.
There were clanking footsteps that echoed the corridor, and Jack tried to act natural as one of the patrolling guards walked past. He sighed.
Jack was procrastinating.
If he was being honest, standing in front of Pitch right now was at the very bottom of his wants list (maybe one above standing on a half frozen, cracking lake, but only barely).
But Pitch wasn't a very patient man, and he had kept him waiting long enough.
Jack knocked on the door and waited for the guards inside to open it for him— it's apparently bellow his status to open a door, and doing so would make him a peasant. (Come on, it's a door. Jack can sort of understand not doing chores, and staying inside to stay clean, but a door? Is all nobility frighteningly incompetent or does Pitch just spend his free time making up stupid rules to torture him specifically?)
As the door creaked open, Jack adjusted his crown and cape to make himself look presentable. He held his staff close to his chest, and schooled his expression.
Jack stepped inside the chamber, uncomfortable shoes clacking in the otherwise silent room. It wasn't dark yet, on account of the massive windows and end of summer light, but it felt it. Gloomy and slightly oppressive in a way windows could never fix. Pitch may not stand for failing infrastructure, but he supposed he was fine with bad design.
Jack stood straight and walked in front of the throne where Pitch sat—carefully not observing him as he walked. Jack took a deep breath and tried his best to remember the proper court proceedings. "Good evening, Grandfather."
It was at this point Pitch finally turned his gaze to him. His eyes were narrow and his skin seamed to get less vibrant by the day, although that was never alluded to in polite company. Jack was certain the weird lighting wasn't doing him any favors. "You're late."
"My deepest apologies," Jack bowed (NOT dramatically, Sandy had made sure he stopped that within the first month at the palace) and tried not to let the sarcasm show.
"Oh, well. Nothing to be done about it now. It seems the maid I sent to fetch you wasn't great at her job. I'll have to reassess her position in this palace."
Jack bites his tongue to keep from wincing; it would only goad him on more. Carefully avoiding the topic, Jack finally looked at Pitch, guessing enough time passed of him staring at the floor to count as respectful. If it hadn't, he didn't really care. "May I know why I was summoned?"
Pitch sighed, and Jacks stomach twisted; the natural reaction to seeing his grandfather with that look. "Ever the impatient one, aren't we?" Jack said nothing, knowing this court trap from experience, and Pitch continued. "Regardless, you are here because you're doing so well in your studies. So well, in fact, that you can finally start helping the kingdom."
Jack's eyes widened. That wasn't what he was expecting at all. "In what way?"
Pitch looked off to the side at one of the guards, and gestured for something. A table was brought out and placed on the ground bellow the thrones stairs. Covering the table was a map that Jack was quite aquatinted with from his tutoring with Sandy—a map of their kingdom and the surrounding area. What he wasn't aquatinted with was the figures and lines of string on top.
"You receive the finest history lessons money can buy, yes? So you must be familiar with the circumstances regarding our northwestern border, as of late?"
Jack racked his brain for the correct thing to say, and especially how to word it. "Its… a popular place for fishing boats of our kingdom due to the mega-fauna that exist. But as of late, both our boats and commoners' boats are returning with no catches, or not returning at all." Pitch knocks over one of the figurines with the long moving-figurines-thingy, and Jack watches it roll in circles a few times before drifting closer to the edge. "And we have a name of who's doing it." the figure falls off the edge and clatters to the ground, eerily loud in the eternally quiet room.
"The Dragon Master." Pitch near hisses with disdain. He's said to be able to control dragons, and attacks ships with their aid. Jack's heard about him in lessons, and even more from listening in on the staff. "No accounts are truly the same with what he looks like— leave it to peasants to remember the details, but they say he's unseeable, a ghost in the night. Ruthless, and unbeatable." Pitch stood up, walking down to the table. The clack of his shoes were intimidating, and Jack could understand why he had his meetings in here. If he were a lord forced to literally look up at the king as he clicked terrifyingly toward him? He'd give him anything he wanted.
Pitch stopped on the other side of the table. He was taller than Jack, and even more so with him still standing on the lowest stair. He delicately picked up one of the boat figurines near the border, and turned it in his hand as he spoke. "The most recent ship back told us he spoke. Announced if any more ships came, he would burn them all to ashes." Pitch said it like one would announcing the weather; it's cold outside, the rain's back, our people are going to get wiped off the map by a silent, ravenous killer. Jacks blood ran slightly colder than normal.
"Based on the region, is is almost certainly someone from the Archipellian Kingdom, and going off of their… until recently— savagery, I wouldn't put it past them. Especially with their… odd relationship with the beasts." Jack thought of the Sea Serpents in the Navy's stables, and how many civilians their kind had killed before Pitch taught the kingdom to control them.
"If we let this go on unaddressed, I fear a war might break out. We cannot let any more of our people get hurt by those barbarians." Political speak for 'If they don't stop it right this instant I am going to set them ablaze.'
Pitch was directly across from Jack, which made it all the worse when he looked directly at him and spoke with his quiet intensity; his eyes lighting up with something akin to excitement. "That's where you come in, Prince Jack." Jack stood up straighter and bit his tongue. Pitch continued, slowly walking around to the other side. "You are going to act as a bridge between our kingdoms, help fix whats wrong, protect your people." Pitch squeezes his shoulders, and Jack tenses; not knowing enough about court speak to know what that means, but knowing its probably not great for him. He looks down at the table and bores holes with his eyes.
Pitch hummed at his non reaction, and took his hands away, leaving them in the air as a show of peace. He speaks lightly, "So, we have offered them a political arrangement."
Jack cant take it anymore. "What does that mean?" he grits out.
Pitch frowns, displeased. "You're going to marry into their family."
Jack's head snaps up and he stares at his grandfather in shock. "What!?"
Pitch rolls his eyes flippantly and hops back up some of the steps. "Oh please, Jack. You have been going on and on about wanting to help your kingdom. I'm finally giving you a chance, and this is how you react?"
Jack splutters, manners forgotten. "But— I can't do that!"
Pitch hums, his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Oh, you won't? I was hoping you would be willing to help your kingdom, but, oh well." Pitch shrugs and plops back in his throne looking at his fingernails in disregard. "I suppose the princess is better at court proceedings. In fact, I hear their king was widowed a while back…" Pitch says it casually, like he wasn't hanging his sister's future over his head. He has a special skill of saying world shattering news like its nothing.
Jack feels like he's been dumped into frozen water. Emily was only 13— she couldn't be married to some old viking king who probably killed his last wife.
Jack wouldn't allow it.
"Fine!" he spits. He looks up at Pitch who looks back with distaste. He swallows the lump in his throat as he tries again. "…fine, I'll do it."
Pitch's smile curls, and Jack only feels dread. "Perfect. The letter has already been sent to them, and it would be foolish of them to regret our offer, so the staff shall start on your preparations immediately."
Jack nods in acknowledgment, even if he wasn't really listening— his mind far out of the throne room; picturing vikings and dragons and blood.
"You'll leave in one weeks time. Get some sleep— you're going to have a busy day tomorrow."
Jack nods, and takes this as his cue to leave, turning and walking to the door that he's not allowed to open.
"Oh, and one last thing," Pitch calls out, stopping him in his tracks. "You are going to need to keep a handle on those powers. I may be lenient, but…" Pitch trails off, drumming his fingers against the throne. "I'm certain you have heard what they do to normal people who enter their waters. If those savages found out you had magic?" Pitch hisses the word like its a curse to have to say it. He sit up straighter, looks at Jack, and calmly continues. "Well, lets just say I don't want to be doing any avenging, today."
Jack looks at the floor under Pitch— a sign of respect when receiving orders. Normally he hates the 'courtesy' of being looked down on, but this time its nice; his grimace is hidden better than Jack's face could.
He already has to be a perfect prince or risk death or war, whats one more thing to his plate? At least he'll have a week to memorize the spoons.
—
Jack layed on his too-soft bed and whined. He didn't want to be shipped off to some foreign land to marry a girl he's never met! And a Viking girl no less? He's heard horror stories of them all being able to take out a dragon in a few swings or less.
Jack hoped he wasn't too dragon like.
There was a knock at the door, (oh, how Jack was beginning to hate those. Everything bad started with those) and Jack managed to force out a "come in" before they could go and do it again.
In walked Bunny— 6'1 and never lets Jack forget it, even though he's not even the tallest guard—with a small bundle in his hands, and a smirk of all smirks on his face. Jack's nose wrinkles in distaste, and pulls the covers up over his face.
"Oi, as funny as it is to watch you mope, mate, I didn't come in here just to have you ignore me."
Jack grumbled and pulled the covers even higher just to spite the man. "Not now, Bunny," he spoke, muffled by his Misery Cocoon.
Jack felt a dip on the bed near his feet, and protectively curled them in to himself. He will not be dragged from his warm nest by the feet again.
"I heard about the new promotion," Bunny started. The most horrible start to ever start, probably ever.
"It's been 3 hours. How did the gossip get to you already?" Jack asks, annoyed. He then pictures colorful hair buzzing off after bringing him back to his room, and curses. "Tooth…"
Bunny snorts. "Yup. Not too hard to figure it out, even for someone with a snowball for a brain." Bunny set something on the bed— probably the satchel he saw earlier. "But I was gunna find out even if she didn't tell me; you underestimate how loud Sandy's hands can be."
"Yeah yeah, 'A word said in the throne room at breakfast is known the town over by sunset'—I've heard it. Save it for someone who cares."
"Aw, come on. Gettin' hitched ain't too bad," Bunny tries.
Jack pops his head out just to glare at him. "I've never even met her."
"Who knows, maybe she'll be your type."
Jack squawked. "I don't even have a type!" And truth be told, he didn't. Back in his village he was really the only one of his age group, so there were no girls to form a type around, and the same held true for the palace. Well, except for the newer maids, but Jack wasn't going to eye up someone while they were just doing their job— he wasn't a creep. They tended to ignore him, too. Orders and all.
Bunny looked at him, exasperated. "Look mate, work with me here. This ain't the end of the world. You've been trying to get out of the castle the minute ya stepped in— this is you getting out."
Jack grumbled and settled back into his blanket nest, but keeping his head out this time (to glare at bunny). "I wasn't trying to escape into the arms of a Barbarian."
Bunny frowns slightly, upbeat demeanor falling away. "I know ya wernt. No one thinks ya were. But I don't gotta tell you how important this is for our kingdom." Bunny looks out the window and sighs. "You don't really get a choice in this, and I'm sorry there's nothing else I can do for you, mate."
"How encouraging," Jack grits his teeth.
Bunny glares at him, continuing pointedly. "But, try to look on the bring side, a'right? It ain't all doom and gloom. You're helpin' people— you'll live."
"As alive as I ever can be," Jack mumbled into his pillow.
"Wha' was that?"
"Nothing!"
Bunny rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag he set down earlier in the conversation. "Well, I came in here to help you pack, and by God am I gunna make you pack."
Jack groaned, but got up before Bunny had to drag him.
(Again).