Chapter Text
"Will! Wake up, it's nearly noon."
Will does not want to wake up. Will is curled up in his own bed, burrowed into a mess of blankets bigger than he is, with the stuffed cat he'd slept with since childhood in arm's reach, and the real cat that had followed his dad into the real world taking up at least half the space on his pillow.
It's cozy. He'd just gotten home yesterday after walking a whole week from helping Heismay with a bounty target in an old abandoned mine. He's gotten pretty good at bounties over the past few years, and honestly nothing in there had been all that dangerous. Will's quick to pick up bits and pieces of fighting, even if he's not… super great at following the nice, clean forms that Heismay and Hulkenberg keep trying to teach him. He has so many little bits and pieces picked up from so many people that he's kind of just got a style all his own, but it works. He goes on adventures, and he helps people, and he gets to see his friends, and then he comes home and spends time with his dad.
Spends time with his dad, which as far as Will is concerned, can also include sleeping in a little bit first, not being woken up with the sun by a neighbor. Even a neighbor he's known almost as long as he's been alive, and that to be fair is actually a really good friend.
"Mmph, 'ria," he mumbles, turning so his face is buried in Platfoot's fabric. "Early."
"It's nearly nine," she says, matter of fact. "I woke your dad up too."
"Mmph," Will repeats.
"I told Fabienne I'd bring you both back for breaksfast," Maria says. "You know she worries about you."
…Will doesn't like worrying people. Even though he does it a lot. People are always worrying about him, even though he knows how to fight and can take care of himself. He's sixteen, almost an adult, and he's been fighting and traveling and doing as much as he possibly can to help people for years. Ever since that time he went to visit Liam and the ship he was on got hijacked by Louis's soldiers, and he'd had to go on a whole odyssey to get home.
He's almost an adult, people don't need to worry about him.
Will buries himself under his blankets.
"No," Maria says cheerfully, pulling them off again. "Come on, Will, up you get."
Maria is older than him, and better at waking up early, and makes Will think of what an older sister would be like if he had one. Very good at guilting him into waking up, so he sits up, hair sticking out in every direction, and asks, "Did you really wake Dad up?"
"It wasn't difficult," Maria says. "He fell asleep reading a book at the kitchen table."
"Again?"
"Yes, again," she says, with a flicker of a smile. "It didn't look very comforrtable."
"What book was it?"
Maria had obviously been expecting this question, because she answers without any hesitation. "The History of Oceanic Igniter Developments," she says.
"That's a big one," Will says, rolling out of bed and trying to push his hair back down. His blankets come down with him, and Will reluctantly untangles himself. "It's probably not the worst pillow."
"He should be sleeping in a bed," Maria says, leaning against the doorframe to Will's small room, watching him refold the blankets and stack them on top of the bed. "And you should be sleeping in your bed more often, actually."
"I sleep here every time I'm home," Will says.
"And you should be home more often," Maria says. "We miss you."
Will sneaks a sideways look at her, shoulders hunching a little. He knows he's not home very often, but he thinks it's for a good reason! There are lots of people in Euchronia that needs help, and Will is good at it! He can fight monsters, explore old ruins, all kinds of things. He likes doing it, and as much as he wants to be home with his family and his friends all the time, Will knows by now that he's never as happy staying still in one place as he is while traveling. He likes being on a gauntlet runner, or a ship, or just on the road. And his dad always tells him that even though he's worried about him out on the road, he's glad that Will's found a way to be happy. Even with the world the way it is right now.
But what if other people don't agree? His dad's not the only one that Will loves, and he always kind of wonders if he's disappointing the rest of his scattered but important family, what if—
"Come on," Maria says, and without Will realizing it, she's gotten close enough to poke his shoulder from behind. "You're overthinking things. Don't worry about it, Will. I just like knowing you're here and safe."
Will gives her a strained smile. "Thanks for worrying about me," he says.
"Fabinne says worry's the one thing we always have enough of these days," Maria says. "Don't worry, it's what we do for the people we care about."
Will nods, feeling a little bit better. His smile starts to feel less fake.
"Come on," Maria says. "There's not enough room to talk in here anyway, and I'm sure Fabinne's waiting for us."
There really isn't room for both of them, that's fair. Will's room is crowded and messy. There are books on every surface, on the rough shelves Grius had made him a few years ago, and then even more books on the tiny desk under the window, and on the desk chair, and on the windowsill too, actually. Everywhere except the floor, because—well, most of the space is taken up by Will's bed and the desk, there's not that much space in here—and most of the rest of it is filled by his travel bag, his sword in its sheath, his boots. All his adventuring supplies, the stuff he takes with him on trips. It's kind of a miracle Maria had managed to get in here to wake him up at all, actually.
Will's dad is already up when they get into the kitchen (small, like Will's room, and covered in books, also like Will's room), and he gives Maria a slightly sheepish smile as she leads Will out. "As always," he says. "My apologies for not being ready to greet you."
"Oh," Maria says, expression twitches. "It's alright. I'm used to it. I think that's why Fabienne sends me over so often."
Because otherwise they'd both stay up too late and sleep in forever. Will's dad loses all track of time when he's reading, and Will… well, home is safe. It's the one place he knows he can always come back to, where he can let his guard down and not have to worry about anyone sneaking up behind him on the road.
(He likes traveling, but he's not a kid. He's sixteen, and he knows the world is dangerous)
Will's dad chuckles, and shooes both Maria and Will out in front of him. While both he and Will can cook, it's just better eating together with everyone at the Inn. It might not be as bustling or as big as the Hushed Honeybee that Will vaguely remembers from Grand Trad, but it's been a full decade since any of them were there, and the world has changed a lot since then. Everyone is making do with less. Less space, less resources, less assurance that tomorrow will be safe. And Will thinks that what Fabienne and Maria are doing here is pretty good. Maria dragging him and his dad down the street for breakfast is nostalgic and warm.
The tiny space where Will and his dad live—their two cramped bedrooms, divided by the kitchen/living room/library—is perched on the second floor of their ramshackle building. The first floor is his dad's bookshop, packed with every book he's managed to pick up over the ten years since leaving Akademeia. With all the books packed together like that, waiting to be picked up and flipped through and hopefully taken home by somebody that really wants to read it, Will thinks it's the greatest place in the country.
…it's a little bit like Akademeia, actually, from what Will remembers of his visits there when he was a kid. But this place is lived in, and full of all kinds of books on every subject Will can think of, instead of just Archetypes.
By the time they're out on the street, bookshop door carefully locked behind them, Will is feeling all the way awake. He chatters with Maria as they head up the street, talking about nothing important, pointing out a ship coming into the harbor, making up ridiculous cargo it might be carrying. It's one of their oldest games, and has only gotten more ridiculous as Will brings stories back from his journeys around Euchronia.
They've settled on moon rocks by the time they get to the Inn, and Will perks up when they get inside, and he recognizes voices. "Good morning, Miss Fabienne!" he says. "Hi Grius!"
"Good morning?" Fabienne teases. "Isn't it nearly noon?"
Will looks sheepishly at her, then back at his dad for reassurance. He's probably too old to need that, but it's nice to see that same slightly guilty expression on his dad's face, too.
"It's difficult to stop a good book once you start," he says.
"So I've heard," Fabienne says. "Well, there's still some time before the lunch rush comes down from the docks."
Breakfast—or maybe early lunch—isn't much, but it tastes good. Will lingers over his as long as he can so that it'll feel like more, and leans over the table to talk to Grius. "I didn't think you were back in Brilehaven," he says, a little bit of hope creeping into his voice. "I thought you were at the capital with Gallica checking out a way into the castle."
"I was," Grius says. "But we've finished."
Will watches him carefully, waiting to hear what Grius is going to say next. Maybe they're done because they hadn't been able to find a good way in. Maybe they're done because they'd been caught by the army on a patrol. Or maybe…
"We have an in," Grius says, dropping his voice. Probably in case anyone else happens to come in. "Not just to the city, but to the castle. And once we're inside, and can get the Sceptre out, and back here—" he nods at Will's dad. "Everything will be in place. We just have to be ready to seize the moment."
Everything. That one word encompasses so much that Will feels his breath catch a little. For years, this has been the Resistance's main plan. Steal the Royal Sceptre. Get it to Will's dad, because the Sceptre still recognizes him as King. Let him abdicate, and trigger a new election. One that Louis definitely won't win, this time.
"Please tell me Will won't be involved in this," More says, frowning. "I understand what you need to get out of the castle, but it's especially dangerous for him there."
"Dad!" Will protests. "I want to help!"
"And I want you to be safe," his dad says. "As much as you can be, considering how much time you're already spending running around the country."
"Helping people," Will insists.
"Helping people," his dad agrees. "But the capital is pushing it a little too far, even for you."
"Your father's right, Will," Grius says, and Will's dad nods gratefully at him. "Louis has met you."
"Like ten years ago," Will points out. "I was six. I'm sixteen now, I look different."
"You look a lot like your brother," his dad says. "Who is number one on his most wanted list."
Will can't even argue with that, because he does look a lot like Liam. Just, with different hair and a few extra inches because he hadn't spent a bunch of time getting all the strength sucked out of him by Rella's curse. He doesn't always get as much food as he wants, sure, but he's still three inches taller than his brother.
…not that a few inches and some blue hair will stop Louis from recognizing him. Their King isn't dumb, and he'd tried his best to kill Liam more than once during the election. Will's sure he still remembers.
"Fine," Will says, slumping a little in his seat, chasing the last of his food around on his plate. "But there has to be something I can do, right?"
He's not expecting a yes, and is bracing himself for disappointment, when Grius says, "There is."
Will perks up immediately, focusing in on Grius. "Really?"
"Really?" his dad asks, in a much more worried tone.
"We need Liam back on the mainland," Grius says. "We need him campaigning as soon as we have the sceptre in hand. Earlier, preferably. And if anyone in the Kingdom can convince him to come back to us, it's Will."
Will grins, a burst of excitement going through him. This is great! He's been traveling out to the mustari and the ancient city on their islands for years. His dad doesn't even try to fight him about it anymore, except for a few months right after the whole Louis's-army-seizing-the-ship thing. And that had been years ago! Will is a lot older now. He's better at fighting, and better at knowing when to not fight. Which, as he keeps being told, is just as important.
And he'll be bringing Liam back! His brother, his dream, the first person in the whold world he'd known. If that's Will's new mission, he can't wait to get started.
"You're okay with this," he says, just to confirm. "Right, Dad?" He swings around in his face to look at him, and gets a slightly sad smile in return.
"You've been there enough times for me to know you can handle it," his dad says. "You know the path, and you know where the danger is. But be careful, Will, okay?"
"I'll be… as careful as I can be," Will says.
(Sometimes people just need help)
(They get stuck in old dungeons, or threatened by monsters, and Will knows he's always going to try and give them that help. It's just who he is)
His dad sees right through him. "No," he says patiently. "Actually careful, Will. Promise me. If things go according to plan, Louis is going to be angrier than he has been in ten years. He will not be inclined to show mercy, or caution, or to hold back in any way."
"I know," Will says. "I understand."
"And you'll be careful," his dad says. "Straight to Liam, and straight back here."
"And… I'll be careful," Will agrees.
"Good," Grius says. He stands, and Will has no doubt that he's ready to move out again. Grius never has been good at siting still or staying in one place. "Bring him back here, as fast as you can."
"Got it!"
"I won't explain too much of the rest of the plan until it's over," Grius continues. "Just in case. But by the time you get back, we should have the sceptre back." He pauses, and a small smile carves itself into his tired expression. "But part of it is getting the old team back together. If everything goes according to plan, we should all be back here, with Neuras and the runner."
Will's face lights up, and his own smile feels like it's going to rip his face in two. "Really?" he asks. "It still works?" He hasn't seen Neuras much over the past ten years, so his memories of the ishkia and his gauntlet runner are blurry and nostalgia tinged. And chaos tinged, but Will is sort of chaos tinged himself. He remembers Neuras as a tall, enthusiastic mechanic, sometimes too enthusiastic about things, but Will thinks that can only be a good thing. It would be really awesome to be back on that runner, with Neuras beaming out at the world from the pilot's seat, surrounded by friends, bringing Liam home at last.
"Of course it still works," Grius says. "I've been checking in on him, and I don't think he's spent a single day not working on that runner."
Will's heart lifts. "That's so good to hear," he says. "Not even ten years of Louis could stop Neuras from working on his gauntlet runner!" That's so inspiring, actually. Like, he's found what he loves, and he's doing it, and not even the worst King the Kingdom has ever seen can stop him from doing that.
"And not even ten years of Louis can stop you from finding a silver lining," his dad says, fondly.
Will flushes a little, but he's more pleased than embarraseed. Yeah, yeah, okay, so he's an optimist. He thinks he's had a good life, in the circumstances, with family and friends that love him, and a world full of adventures that he gets to explore. Maybe it's not as safe as whatever life he would have had if Louis hadn't been King, maybe all those people he cares for are spread out and rarely but this is the life he has, and there's plenty to be grateful for.
"I like finding the silver lining," he says.
"It's a good thing," his dad says. "It's a gift not everyone has."
Will's flush turns bright red.
Grius chuckles. "How quickly do you think you can reach Liam?" he asks.
"I can leave tonight," Will says at once. All his exhaustion from his last journey feels like a vague memory now, because this is exciting and important. "There's a trade ship leaving on its monthly run, and they've let me tag along before." He thinks about it, and adds, "It might take longer to convince him to come back, but I'll do it."
Of course he will. This is his brother, and Will is ready to bring him home.
-//-
More has watched Will leave more times than he cares to remember, and he's gotten used to the deluge of emotions that comes with it. He's worried about him, obviously and always, but he's also proud. This world hates him. The King hates him. And while there are plenty of people that Will has won over and befriended, More often wonders how the math makes sense to him, and how he convinces himself that those few people out of everyone in the Kingdom are worth all these dangerous missions.
(The answer seems to be: because it doesn't matter how many people are kind to him, or care for him)
(Will would have traveled the Kingdom, helping everyone he can, even if he had only one friend, or if he had none at all)
But today is different. More has known for years that they'll need the Royal Sceptre sooner or later, but now that the moment is here, he's not sure he's ready for it. He'll have a task as well, of course. He's still recognized as the King by the sceptre, and he needs to change that. Either by dying, as the… original King had done, or by abdication. Convincing the sceptre that it's time to trigger that same election magic all over again.
Maybe the imminent nearness of it is what makes More realize all of a sudden, all over again, what's about to happen. And more relevantly, how much danger that might put Will in. Yes, he'll be safely hidden in the Mustari Isalnds out of sight, but what about after that? He won't stay there, he'll be coming straight back with Liam, and from there, involving himself in the election.
"Dad?"
More doesn't realize how far his mind has wandered from the scene in front of him until Will interrupts his train of thought. It's late afternoon, and they're back in the cluttered bookshop that More has spent so much time and effort building up over the years. As much their home as the cramped rooms upstairs, quiet but enough for the two of them.
There's no customers in the shop now. An elderly couple has just left, meaning More and Will are alone for a conversation that More doesn't particularly want to have.
"It never gets easier saying goodbye to you when you go off on one of these trips," he says.
Will crosses the room from the stairs, weaving between tables stacked with books, so he can borrow a chair and lean on the counter across from More. "I know," he says. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," More says. He smiles a little. "You were made with a wanderer's heart."
"I still don't like saying goodbye," Will says. "I really do miss you when I'm not here." He straightens a little, his eyes going wide. It makes his face seem younger, and reminds More that for all that Will has seen and done, he's still only sixteen. Younger, if they only count the years he's actually existed. Closer to ten or eleven.
"You know what?" Will says. "I think, maybe it's a little bit nice to have to say goodbye."
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder?" More asks.
"Well…" Will chews that over. "Not really. Or—maybe, I guess? But it's just better than when we first met," Will says. "And I could see you whenever I wanted, but you were trapped inside a book. I'd much rather have to leave you behind if that means you're in a real place that I can really leave." He smiles, an expression More recognizes as genuine, and as much for him as for Will himself. Because Will, good kid that he is, has always had that knack of wanting what's best for others before himself.
"Someday," More says. "When this is all over, and neither of us needs to hide, we'll go wandering together."
Will nods, determined. "I'll show you all my favorite places," he says. "And we'll find new places to like together."
It's a nice thought, and More very much hopes it will come to fruition someday. He'd told Will that he has a wanderer's heart earlier, but there's some part of him that wants that too. Of all the memories he's unwillingly inherited from the dead King, the few happy ones are traveling. On the road, away from anyone that cared what he might or might not have done, even falling in…
No. Those days spent with the elda belong to two people that are long dead, and More is only an intruding visitor in those memories.
"I'd like that very much, Will," he says, and this seems to satisfy his son. Will stands up again, bouncing a little on his feet, and takes a step or two back from the counter.
"I'm going to head down to the docks," he says. "If I'm going to be asking for passage on a ship, I want to help them get ready to leave."
"Alright," More says. "Take care. I really mean it, Will. Be careful."
He is aware that he's said this half a dozen times already. He doesn't think he could possibly say it enough to believe that Will is going to listen.
Will stops halfway to the door to nod seriously at More. "I will," he says. "I promise."
"Good," More says. He wants to say more, but finds himself drawing a blank. He doesn't exactly know what to say, even at the start of this more dangerous than usual mission, but then his eyes snag on something he keeps behind the counter. He reaches down to grab it, and holds it pointedly out toward Will. "Here," he says. "Take this with you."
Will comes back, expression curious, and takes the copy of More's book that he's handing to him. Utopia. Will takes it, looking understandably confused, and looks it over for a second before saying carefully, "You know this is my favorite book, but..?"
It's true that Will hasn't traveled with Utopia in his bag in years, More knows. For good reason, since it takes up space, could be damaged or lost on his travels, and—well, as far as either of them knows, it's lost its magic. Will can carry other and more useful things with him if he leaves the book behind, and More thinks this is very sensible.
Usually.
"This journey is different," he says slowly, thinking it over. "This isn't one of your trips to see Liam, or a tripf or Grius. When you make it back, I'll probably have the sceptre, and I may have even had a chance to trigger the King's magic from it. Another election is on the way, and Louis is not going to be happy."
"Oh," Will says, comprehension dawning. "I get it." Careful now, he packs the book into the over the shoulder travel bag he's already wearing. "Don't worry, Dad. I want you with me too. Even if it's just your words."
That's exactly it, More thinks. The quiet part that he hadn't been sure if he actually wanted to say out loud. Will has always been good at understanding without words anyway. His Heart Archetype, More always thinks. Keeping him connected to the people he cares for most. For a moment he just surveys his son across the space between them. He really takes a minute to see Will, sixteen and serious, nearly as tall as More now. He's a fighter, a wanderer, and more than the dream he'd been born as. He has his travel bag thrown over his shoulder, Liam's sword in its sheath at his hip, and is still carrying More's book in one hand.
"Go on," More says, as the moment stretches on. "Go get your brother. Come back safe."
Will nods. "I will!" he says. "And good luck with—well, everything with the scepter. You have the hard job, I think."
More's fairly confident that he'll be able to abdicate whatever's left of the kingship and force the magic into another election. He's almost positive that it's Will that has the hard job between the two of them. But he accepts Will's worry for him with good grace. "Thank you," he says.
Will has a bright smile. He points it at More now before tossing off a casual, "Love you, Dad! I'll be back in no time!" and dashing off for another adventure.
More watches him through the window until he's totally out of sight, trying not to worry. As much as that's possible under the circumstances.
Will is going to be alright. He's always been alright, and as much as the next few weeks or months are going to be challenging, it may also be better soon. There will be another election. Louis, after ten horrible years as King, has a very real chance of losing. Will has spent almost his entire life in a Kingdom ruled by violence and danger, and it won't be long now until that changes.