Chapter Text
The news hits during a stormy afternoon.
With the sun shielded behind greyish clouds, the small pitter-patter of rain hitting the broken dirt floor, and each individual member of The North holed up in the house with clouded minds; worry plaguing their thoughts about what was to come.
For they had lost another war with The Regime.
It was a reoccurring thing, really, something they would barely bat their eyelids at, but this time had ended differently. Unlike the other losses, when there were no casualties or serious deaths caused to either factions, they could not brush this skirmish underneath a rug. They could not play pretend and wait for Ash to give them a peace treaty, or vice versa, and become tentative allies again. Their game of cat and mice came to an end.
All because they had unknowingly destroyed the Regime’s biggest, most important facility without remorse.
Thankfully, Ash had granted enough mercy to let their unarmed civilians go, and despite Aldo’s insistence on pushing forward with their attack, Vegetta had ordered them to withdraw; the sound of destruction filling the air had given him a little push in that direction. They retreated with bruised egos, and burned gunpowder still rotting inside their skin.
Which led them here.
Vegetta sitting silently in their conference room, Juan on the other side, Tina seated even farther away, while Foolish and Aldo pranced comically around the room. One in worry, and the other… Well, he just could not sit still, even if he wanted to. And maybe he was a tad bit worried. He is their Second in Command plus, so he had to live up to that standard in front of their leader, or else he’d be knocked down a few positions. They had a good thing going in their mansion, after all, and it had been so long since Foolish had witnessed such lively mortals.
He did not want them to die.
“Why did we fall back?” Aldo hissed into the air, not directing the question to anyone in particular, but his distaste on the matter evident. “If we had just—”
“If we had continued, we would have been destroyed.” Juan replies with a sigh, bringing a hand to his face in exasperation.
“We had a line of defence!”
“That was inadequate to handle weapons of destruction, Aldo.” He motions to Tina, who sat wordlessly at the end of the table, and then towards the door as if the rest of their fighters were pushing their ears up against it (they definitely were). “Manpower alone cannot overcome these things. If Foolish had built the nuclear power plant like I had explained, we would maybe have a chance, but he didn’t. So now we’re screwed.”
Foolish whips his head to look at Juan, eyebrows furrowing. “Hey! Don’t bring me into this!”
“You’re mad because you know I'm right!”
“I’m not mad! I told you I’d finish it after my dragon, and you said ‘okay’.”
Juan laughs, but it’s not that good-natured one that usually happened after he said something he didn’t truly mean. “I did not say ‘okay’, I said ‘I have a task for you’. I thought your build would be done many days ago, but no! You’re Kelpa-whatever Dragon could have waited until after we established The North’s arsenal. You decided to waste our valuable time with—”
“Silence.”
Vegetta stays unmoving at the head of the table, pupils following every sudden movement as he stares down the people crowded in their conference room. He clicks his tongue in agitation. They sulk deeper into their chairs, and the ones standing stop in place, awaiting words from their valiant leader.
“There is no changing the past.” Vegetta stares pointedly at both Foolish and Juan. “And while it would have been nice to have a… nuclear power plant, it would not have helped us in our battle when we were on enemy territory. We have to focus on what we’re going to do when The Regime arrives with their demands. Do you understand?”
“Yes, King Vegetta.”
“What do you think they’ll demand?” Foolish questions aloud, head tilted like there was nothing inside his brain, and fingers threaded between each other, pulling at the joints. “We do not have much to give in terms of…devices. Oh, but we do have manpower, haha!”
“I am not sure, Foolish. That is what worries me. At this point, it would not be unreasonable for them to demand anything from us. Materials, land, even…people.”
“People?!”
“Yes, people. It is common for a winning nation to take someone as their trophy. Someone who is held in high esteem by the losing team.” Vegetta goes to stand, silencing the sudden overlapping of rushed voices, and looks intensely at each and every member. “You are all my cherished friends, and most valuable in The North’s ranks, aside from my adopted children. Saying this, I am warning you: Should Ash decide to weaken our nation by…seizing a trophy, there is not anything I can do to stop him. War will always be war.”
Silence fills the room as Vegetta awaits a response. A few people nod their heads, Aldo does so with great conviction, however, a few others are a little more hesitant.
“No, no I can’t be..traded off to them!” Juan sweats. “I’ve helped so much here, Vegetta, you can’t let them take me! Ash will kill me within a day!”
“How are you so sure you’ll be taken?” Foolish giggles.
Juan immediately sobers up, glaring at the larger shark totem with burning rage, before yelling. “He sure as hell wouldn’t pick you, fucker!”
“Why’re you so aggressive? I’m just wondering!”
“I’m not aggressive!”
“You are!” Foolish laughs.
Slowly, one by one the higher members of The North begin to filter out of the room, leaving both of them to argue in front of Vegetta like children, until Juan leaves their dispute unfinished and in a huff. Foolish watches worriedly as he walks past, sensing something entirely wrong about the interaction; it wasn’t like their usual shouting matches. Juan would have joked around, his tone light and airy, or laugh profusely after every insult. It was always that way, even before they had become reluctant friends. This time, a strange aura surrounded him, like a gloom that dragged you in to vaporize your bones. Foolish turns to Vegetta with an uneasy stare.
“I think,” he pauses, mulling over the words, "I think he is scared.”
“That assumption would not be so wrong.” Vegetta agrees. “He has a place at The North, and helped build a large portion of our casa. Of course he will feel betrayed at even the thought of being.. transferred to a new faction.” Their King moves to Foolish’s side, hand clasping around the shark totem’s massive biceps, and looks him in the eyes. There's worry in them. “The same goes for you, Foolish. I cannot guarantee your safety, but should you get taken, I will fight to get you back.”
Foolish raises an eyebrow, not enjoying the blatant favouritism when his friend was the helpless one. Normally he’d bathe in the compliments or concern, but Juan was overtaking his mind with worry.
“Would The North do the same for Juan? Y’know, if he was taken as a war trophy?”
“The Regime, Ash specifically, does seem to enjoy his unrelenting sense of duty.” Vegetta sighs, pointedly looking at him with the next sentence. “It would seem indecent to try to take him back from them, when they so clearly want him.”
Foolish does not say anything in response, but slowly, his heart turns into stone from the words alone. The thought of Juan being replaceable sent a wave of despair through his veins. Memories wash up, of all their awful yet joyous times spent together; Purple Wednesday, Barbecue Monday, their beach days, therapy, or when Juan would arrange impromptu karaoke sessions. He thinks, for a moment, that The North without Juan would be nothing. Even him, a reluctant ally turned friend, had always. enjoyed the man’s presence.
He doesn’t tell Vegetta that, though. Foolish nods, moving out of their King's rigid grip, and walks towards the opened door.
He has an idea to save his friend, but he needs to talk to Aldo first.
︵‿₊୨🌻🦈୧₊‿︵
Foolish finds Juan sitting on the edge of the cliff above the casa, staring off into the sunset with red-stained eyes. He takes the spot beside him without fanfare, without initiating a shouting match, and silence fills the air.
“I’m sorry.” He says, softly.
It’s not like the other apologies he’d given with hesitation, or when he was forced to; it has a certain surety in it, that tone of voice he’d only use when he was completely serious. Which was rare. He was an undying being, afterall. The silliness of mortality was never an issue for him, and he preferred to joke over their continued worries than help, because he knew he could not perish. Still, he had grown to love mortals and their differences, finding himself learning from them everyday. Foolish just made a mistake in growing attached to this man who would openly show his disdain one second, then be the embodiment of kindness in the next; it was dizzying.
“For what?”
“For being an asshole.” Foolish admits. “You are valuable to The North, it was rude of me to say what I did, but well… I kind of thought you did not want to be The Regime’s prize anyway?”
“I don’t! That isn’t why I… I just, you made me seem unneeded by the casa.”
Foolish is surprised by the sincerity in Juan’s voice. Maybe therapy had been a good thing for them to do together. It helped clear the air, and showed them that open communication brought in decent results.
“You are needed.”
He never wanted Juan to feel that way. If he’d ask Molly, Aldo, or even Tina, they’d all agree that he was valuable to their dysfunctional family—the glue that kept them together. When their original plan had been to make separate houses across the map, Vegetta had built their casa, but Juan had helped it feel like home. He was a requirement to make them happy. Foolish could joke all he likes about becoming second in command plus-plus, but even he knows, deep down, that casa events hosted by him just wouldn’t be the same.
“Look,” Foolish hesitates. searching for something in Juan when the other, smaller man refused to look at him with those reddened eyes. “There’s a chance they won’t even ask for a living, breathing prize. If their conditions are materials, I will give away my whole chest of building supplies. If they ask for land, Vegetta would trade it away happily. In the low chance they ask for a human trophy.” He pauses, putting a hand on Juan’s shoulder, and smiles gently when the other finally looks up at him. “I will make sure it isn’t you, Juan. I know your heart lies with The North more than anyone else.”
“But what if—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he grins, “you’ll be safe, I promise.”
The smaller man droops in relief. “If you are sure.”
“I am, and I…” Foolish pauses, digging in his pocket to bring out an emerald droplet, something completely similar to the singular earring he wore on his ear, but incorporated into a necklace. “I need you to wear this, as a symbol that I'm protecting you. Hide it underneath your shirt and do not show it until I tell you to.”
Juan takes it. With one deep breath, he turns to fully face the shark totem, and lets the biggest smile overtake his expression—the most beautiful thing Foolish had ever seen, truly, so full of life. Juan puts a fleshy hand on the shark totem’s own clawed ones, and his heart soars, no longer stone-full from aching sadness. He knows this emotion. He’s lived long enough to experience it hundreds of times. However, Foolish did not think someone he once considered a rival would ever make him have such blooming feelings. He tries to ignore it anyway.
Juan flushes and pulls away. “Thank you, Foolish.” Then, looking at him, a glimmer in his beautiful brown eyes, he speaks up again. “I know we’ve had our…differences, and I’m glad we put those aside. I appreciate your friendship, and the jewelry talisman, but—”
“The Regime is almost here!”
A shrilly scream calls from the upstairs doors, and Foolish whips his head back to see Aldo standing near the entrance. He nods, biting on his cheek in hidden frustration, the singular word of ‘but’ clinging to the air around him. ‘But’ what? What had Juan been about to say? He thinks up the worst possible outcomes, things like: “I never considered you a friend”, or "I'd rather leave The North”, and has to shake his head to clear them away. No, there was no way Juan would think that, not after everything they’ve been through together. He loved The North like a blood-related family.
Foolish will have to question him about it later.
“We’re coming.” He says, moving to stand, and Juan follows behind him.
Everything is going to be okay.
︵‿₊୨🌻🦈୧₊‿︵
The Regime arrives by sunset.
Cladded in armor and weapons in hand, they stood in the foyer with neutral expressions, yet Tubbo gave a little wave towards Foolish when their eyes met. Ash glared at the smaller man in silent repercussion.
“We have come to settle our treaty.”
“Yes, yes. We have been awaiting your arrival.” Vegetta steps forward, but motions towards the other side of the stairs, where their table rested. “Let us sit and discuss.”
Either faction sat on their specific side, The Regime with their reinforced armors, and The North with barren bodies. They could not show deceit or hostility here, not when they were on homeland and obviously had the advantage—that would only serve to make their enemy more uneasy. Foolish sneaks a glance at Juan, and is surprised to find him glaring at Ash with an impassive expression, something far from his whole pacifist personality.
Ash stands, pulling a paper out from his inventory, and walks to where Vegetta sits. “Calm yourselves. We have taken pity on your lack of weaponry, and made our list diminutive.” He places the paper down in front of him aggressively. “Read it aloud.”
Vegetta hesitates. “In accordance with the peace treaty, The Regime requests only three things: One, a piece of interconnected land between The Regime and The North, where members are free to live and coexist. This request may be discussed more thoroughly, to ensure the safety of both factions. Two, enough redstone to fill three chests. These materials will be required before the next two sunrises. If the requirement is not met, the treaty is voided and war will commence. Three, one person of interest shall be obtained from The North and assimilated into The Regime’s possession… through a… a… are you sure?”
“Keep reading.”
“One person of interest shall be obtained from The North and assimilated into The Regime’s possession through a….” Vegetta sounds out of breath, as if not expecting something like this to truly happen. “…Marriage union.”
Gasps filter throughout the table.
The Regime members look almost remorseful. Foolish glances at Aldo, who is staring at him with an openly terrified expression, and the shark totem tilts his head; the action asks, “are you still sure about this?”, but instead of backing out like he had expected, Aldo only steels himself. He coughs out a little, but gently nods. No one notices their wordless interaction.
“To ensure your people will not harm mine, or destroy our buildings ever again.” The Regime’s leader hisses, not entirely surprised by the mass protests. “You love your familial connection too much to cause harm to each other. This is simply a precaution. I will be the other marriage candidate; we will be sure to treat our union with respect, as it will become a tied connection between both of our factions, more aligned with duty than a love match. Any attempt to break it will resume our war.”
The room is silent, taking in the conversation. Foolish looks towards Tubbo, who only shrugs, seeming to think the whole conversation was exasperating. He could agree with that.
“Who is your person of interest?” Vegetta sighs. “We must prepare a grand wedding for such a momentous occasion.”
Ash stares openly at the people around the table. His eyes scan past everyone, pausing on Aldo, if only for a moment, and Foolish notices his body tighten up in shock. He then moves to the person sitting beside him; their second in command plus-plus. His gaze stays there. By the time Ash speaks, the whole house already expects his answer:
“Juan.”
“Absolutely not.”
It isn’t Juan that denies the request, however.
Everyone else turns to the person who spoke, trying to find whoever held so much venom inside their tone alone, only to draw blank expressions when eyes land on Foolish. He was not a pacifist, sure, but he did not include himself in fights so easily. He did not indulge in violence beyond spreading lies. The shark totem in question rises from his seat. He stares with unbidden anger at Ash, something no one had seen before, with his fingers clenched into heavy fists.
“I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to steal what is rightfully mine.”
Juan stirs in his seat, eyes growing from afraid at Ash’s statement to bewildered by the shark totem's foreign words. “Foolish—”
“I’m sorry, my Life. I know you wanted to hide it, but this can’t go on any longer.” He hisses out, glaring at Ash. Everyone in the room is surprised by his actions, aside from Aldo, but even he pretends to be confused. “Juan is already spoken for.”
Shit hits the fan almost immediately.
“Spoken for?” Ash asks above all the overlapping voices, tilting his head and voice sounding hardened, turning his head to Juan. “You cannot mean to tell me that you and—him? Foolish? The man you argue with on every occasion, are…united in matrimony?”
Juan looks between both Ash and Foolish, his tiny heart beating rapidly, and blurts the first thing he thinks of that can save him from a life attached to The Regime’s leader.
“Yes! Yes, we are. Married, that is. We are married, and he is my husband.”
“If you decide to try and take him, I will be forced to kill you.” Foolish nods, pulling out his sword from thin air. The room turns cold, people from both factions so unused to seeing the usually silly totem being serious about duelling. “However, you are a sensible man, so I expect you to understand that marriage is a very important commitment in life. I hope you find it in your soul to not cause heartbreak between two individuals such as Juan and I for a simple treaty.”
Ash grimaces. “I would not do that, but when did you even have time to…”
“A few weeks ago.” Foolish responds, seamlessly. “Under the eyes of a priest.”
“A priest…?”
“Yes, we even have the certificate.” He motions to his room, standing up and heading inside, before coming back with a legit documentation of the marriage—the usual messy handwriting from Foolish, and a fine print on the next line reading “Juan Cubito”, displaying signatures from both of them that they most certainly had not written themselves.
“Where are your rings, then?”
Juan’s heart leaps in his chest, throat closing at the thought of being caught in a lie, but Foolish only looks at The Regime’s leader with bored eyes. He raises a finger to his earring, to his newly acquired set of jewelry that was a beautiful emerald shade, and jingles it around. ‘Convenient’, Juan thinks, because Foolish had gotten the accessory nearly two weeks ago. Not that he was keeping track. The shark totem looks at Juan with a raised eyebrow, pointing to his neck, and almost immediately—as if on autopilot—the smaller man pulls the necklace out from his shirt with shaky hands.
“We do not wear rings.” Foolish says, nodding. “Degloving is a serious issue in our fields of work, and it was safer to wear them while hidden underneath clothing.”
The cover story seemed legit. At least, from the prying looks of The regime. Even Tubbo had looked confused about it, as he and Foolish were close friends, so the look of betrayal that he shot was justified. All the totem could do was shrug.
“You didn’t tell us this? Why, Foolish, Juan? We are family here and you did not invite us to the wedding…!” Aldo speaks up first, faking his righteous anger. He jabs a finger into Juan’s chest. “And the constant arguments. What is that? Some kind of twisted foreplay?! I knew there was something off about your relationship.”
“We didn’t want you all to feel there was some favoritism happening in our casa.”
Juan struggles to keep up, dismissing the sexual comment out of pure embarrassment. “We don’t argue that much!”
“You really do.” Molly clicks her tongue, reeling from the revelation, before looking at Ash with a twinkle in her eyes. “If that is the case, who else will you choose? I can say for certain, if you’re looking for someone with a title to marry, “Princess of the North” is what I go by.”
“Molly!” Aldo hisses, pushing a hand over her mouth to cover the incessant compliments she throws Ash’s way. “Or, you can disregard this entire ‘union’ plan altogether, and we can all go our separate ways.”
“Disregarding it would be the best idea!” Tubbo pipes in for the first time that night.
“Yes, but it keeps the opportunity for The North to continue to attack us open.” Ash sighs, pushing fingers into the corner of his eyes, and sitting down once again. “If this marriage turns out to be a fabrication to keep Juan in The North, then we will be deeply offended; there is no telling what The Regime will do in response. Are you absolutely sure you are legally married?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, my second option would be Vegetta himself, but seeing as we are leaders of separate factions who refuse to compromise, I will have to settle on marrying your military General.”
“Settle?!”
“Aldo?!” Both him and Molly scream at the same time, but her voice is a little louder. “Aldo? Over The North’s Princess? Seriously, how could you Ash?”
“It’s a tactical plan, not a romantic one. This specific union prevents a war, but it also takes away your main General who orchestrates such problems.”
“You? Settle on me?” Aldo scoffs. “You are delusional. In fact, it would be me settling on you if we were to be married!” He pauses. “And I do not cause problems!”
“If that is what you think. All I care about is your response.”
Aldo pauses. The situation begins to grow less comedic and more serious. “I.. I..Wait. You did not ask me yet! What kind of marriage starts without a proposal?”
“Ours.”
“Are you saying I don’t deserve a proper proposal? How rude.”
“I’m not..!” Ash sighs, his headache growing every second he stays inside The Northern mansion. “Fine. fine! General Aldo of the North, will you help me create peace between our nations by accepting my hand in marriage?”
Aldo gazes across the room, making a constipated face, but everyone already knows his mind is made up. “I do… but only because it prevents further wars between your people and my family. Do not fool yourself into believing this can stem into something as… impractical as lov—as affection.”
“I know.”
“And! And you have to agree to never cause a war with The North again!”
“That is the point of this union.” Ash says, his tone bored. “But, I have a request of my own.”
“What is it?” Vegetta asks, pushing the paper so hard it slides across the whole table and in front of Ash. “Besides all the other points you’ve written on that treaty, what else can we do to make you more at ease? We will assemble the wedding venue, deal with the materials, and sort out the land. What else could there possibly be?”
Ash, ever the leader to prolong drama, pauses for ten seconds, letting the suspense rise. Then, he crosses his arms.
“Let us have an official, public wedding for Foolish and Juan.”
Ash smiles, half-assed, and turns to face the ‘happy couple’. “You’ll invite everyone we know. They cannot keep suffering in a secret relationship anymore, not when they have so much love to share out loud.”
Everyone turns their attention back to the couple, expecting loud exclamations of denial. Foolish only smiles back in response, unperturbed, all teeth showing. The display is downright terrifying.
“Sounds good to me!”
The Regime leader scowls, motioning for his group to stand and leave. “We will be back when you announce a wedding date, and then we will discuss me and Aldo’s union. I expect great things will happen with our peace, King Vegetta.”
The Regime leaves before sunrise.