Archive of Our Own ^beta

Phil was a kind and gentle ruler, one who had no qualms about putting his foot down. He was firm in his beliefs and wouldn’t falter for any reason. If there was a slight against his empire then he would face it head on. He would laugh at it and settle the dispute with words rather than blood. His people loved him and he loved his people. With his best friend at his side he knew that peace would be assured.

He sat on a golden throne, crown heavy on his head as golden tendrils of light peaked through the open windows and ricocheted off blinding white snow. He flexed his wings, letting them stretch to their fullest length. He ran a hand through his feathers, a reminder of the gift that the Lady Death had given him.

She was the reason that he still stood. She was the reason that their kingdom could prosper. It wasn’t without a heavy heart that he mourned the beginnings of his great nation. Their history was one caked in blood, but blood he craved no more.

A nasty name, the enemies had given him, but one fitting nonetheless he supposed. Everyone knew his colloquial name, they knew the history attached to such a title. Phil was, after all, the first emperor of the new empire. No one got to that position with please’s and thank you’s. He got it through the same way all the greats had acquired their land.

So tell him why, as he sat up straighter in his throne room, there was a threat against his land. Tell him why, as he cracked out his neck and popped his knuckles, the messenger returned with ashes instead of a reply. Tell him why his empire was under the threat of war.

He could see Techno Blade, his knight, his general, his trusted friend, tense at the words that the messenger spewed. Phil gripped the arms of his throne until his knuckles turned white, he would not take his anger out on some innocent. He wouldn’t let himself fall that far again. He would keep his temper. Though at the rate things were declining… someone would face his wrath soon. And that someone would be King Schlatt of Essempi.

An insolent King who would not know his lefts from his rights if his greedy court wasn’t there to kiss his shoes. Phil sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He had foreseen trouble at the western border, the meetings when it came to establishing those borders were not easy and Schlatt was obviously peeved at the agreements. He only wished that they could have talked things out before Schlatt dishonored him in such a way.

“I’m sorry, you imperial majesty,” the messenger tripped over their words. “But I–”

Phil held up his hands and the messenger ceased their blubbering. Phil stood up, shadow following him as he did so. It was darker than night in this instance, where his anger was threatening to spill over into death .

“You go back,” Phil said. His voice echoed in the large room. The plants seemed to shrink under the commanding tone, and each gilded decoration seemed to lack the golden luster that Phil had requested. “And tell Schlatt that on the eve a fortnight from today, we will meet and we will fight. There need not be any bloodshed between our peoples. Let him know that whoever he sends will be facing me. I will be at the lake that borders our kingdoms.”

The messenger nodded with shaky limbs. Without much more strife they ran out of the throne room, eager to get out of Phil’s presence. Once the throne doors thudded to a close, Phil collapsed onto his throne. His crown sat firmly on his head and he was once again reminded of the responsibilities that came with it. He was exhausted, well and truly exhausted. He had to talk to idiots all day, and the Kings across the borders weren’t much better.

He massaged his temples. What Phil needed was a day to destress. He needed the comfort of his flock in his nest, it would at least put the instincts that were starting to peck at his brain at ease for another thousand years or so. That would require coaxing Wilbur out of his diplomatic duties at L’manberg though, and his boy had fallen for the small kingdom hook, line, and sinker.

Techno laughed from his spot beside the throne. “You’re coming out of retirement, for Schlatt?” He cracked his neck, shaking out his shoulders. “You’re losing your touch, old man.”

“Old man? Need I remind you who’s older out of the two of us?” Phil ruffled his feathers, his wings itching for flight. He wished he could fly with his flock, oh to show his family the skies as he knew them. Wilbur’s wings sustained an injury early on that prevented flight, and Techno was quite literally grounded.

Techno rolled his eyes in return. “Whatever, you’ve got a kid, I do not. Ergo, you’re older.”

“Your logic is flawed.”

“I wasn’t going for sound reasoning,” Techno didn’t hesitate to respond. He didn’t miss a beat, shit eating smile teasing Phil.

Phil clicked his tongue. Techno tensed, if only because he knew what that sund could entail. He didn’t care for how lavish his castle was, what with the high vaulted ceilings that appeased his bird brain, and the way that knick knacks cluttered every surface. He could have the world and it would mean nothing if his citizens had to know that war that most of Phil’s early years were strewn with.

The florid green floral wallpaper did nothing to soothe Phil’s many worries. There was a voice in the back of his head telling him to prepare for something . He picked up his sword which leaned against the right arm of his throne and twirled it in his hands. He was the Angel of Death after all, wasn’t he? He was Death’s will personified. None of Schlatt’s champions could defeat him.

So why did something feel so off?

His shadow seemed to reach out, and for the flicker of a moment he could hear Lady Death as she wrapped her arms around him. Patience, my love . She said. It’ll make sense soon enough . And he supposed that that would have to be solace enough to his screaming thoughts, the ones that twisted and turned into something vile and gross.

“Besides, mate,” Phil said with a grin. “I wouldn’t call being an emperor ‘retirement’. In fact, I think Schlatt’s providing me with the perfect vacation.”

He’d believe his Lady, he’d put his faith in her as he had done so many times before. She would never lead him astray. She would never put him in harm's way without reason. He trusted her judgment. Techno smiled back at Phil, that same lust for blood in his friends eyes reamerging after centuries of slumber.

“Phil, don’t tempt me with a good time,” Techno pretended to be offended as he brought the back of his hand to his forehead. “Vacation? For us? When did we ever get so lucky?”

Phil laughed under his breath, standing up and walking down the blood red carpet that lined the path to the throne. His footsteps were dampened by the soft material, yet it wasn’t enough to stop the essence of the clicking to echo throughout the hall.

Still, he turned back to face Techno, his hands brushed against a potted plant. It shied away from his touch as most living things did. A blessing and a curse, isn’t that what his Lady had said? She had given him Wilbur, and he had found Techno. Truly he was lucky for family who didn’t mind the gift he had been given.

“Mate, it’s just going to be me. I don’t need you to come with me.”

Techno rested a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “You’re more accident prone than I am. Which means I’m going.” And really, there was no arguing with Techno when he had that look in his eye. So Phil didn’t argue and instead let Techno do what he was going to do anyway.

He left the throne room in a hurry, afterall, he only had two weeks to prepare for a duel to the death. He wouldn’t want to disappoint his opponent with sloppy skills.

He passed by a servant on the way to his personal quarters. His hindbrain was starting to irritate him, it was on high alert and that wouldn’t make for anything pleasant if he let himself get sucked into his instincts. He stopped the servant, who started cowering right away. He supposed that his reputation still preceded him, even in his own home.

“Draft a letter to my son, tell him to come back soon, okay?”

The servant bowed. “Of course your majesty. Right away.”

The thoughts from his hindbrain were soothed for a moment. Knowing that Wilbur would be back and in the nest sooner rather than later was a relief. Yet he knew that it was only a temporary band aid until Wilbur was physically back. This was a recipe for disaster.

__________

“You really didn’t need to come with me,” Phil said. He pulled the reins back, stopping the horse before they reached the sandy shore of the lake. He did hope that the fish wouldn’t mind a massacre. Phil didn’t like making his kills clean, it was more fun the more they struggled. 

The soft sounds of nature were always pleasant. Biting cold air made him feel alive when he breathed it in. It had been so long since he was able to get out of the castle. There was always meetings to attend and things to do. He always had papers to sign and public appearances to appear in. It was a busy life, but one he wouldn’t trade for anything. That didn’t mean that he wouldn’t take the opportunity to enjoy when he got to leave.

Even if the reason he was gone was to either kill a King or murder his champion.

Techno swung off of his horse, it whined at the movement but didn’t do anything else. Phil let go of his own reigns. He knew the routine. It was the same as it always was. It had been their routine for hundreds of years and it wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Techno grabbed the reins and pulled the two horses over to lap at the lake water. It probably wasn’t the best for them, but it was all that either could offer.

While his horse had its head bowed, Phil took the time to slip off of it. His hand went straight to his sword. He looked around, not seeing anyone straight away. Pity. He was hoping to get it done and over with. Well… if Schlatt didn’t have anyone at the rendezvous point by the time the sun had fully set, then it would seem like…

“Think he’s surrendering?” Techno asked instead of arguing more about why he had to come with Phil to the battle.

Phil shook his head. He knew Schlatt was a lot of things. He had had more than his fair share of interactions with the bitter, drunken King. He hardly thought that ‘quitter’ was one of those traits. “Dramatic flair, probably. Schlatt has a thing for theatrics, doesn’t he?”

Techno tied the horse reins to a spare fence post that he pulled out of absolute nowhere. Only the company Phil kept. He shook his head with fond exasperation, turning to face where Schlatt and or his champion would come from.

There it was. Then, stumbling out of the forest, was a small boy. He was by no means even a teen. He carried a sword that was too large for him, far too dangerous for such a small boy to be holding. Though there he stood, wearing Schlatt’s colors and covered in royal regalia.

Unusual.

His hindbrain went wild.

He had experience though. He forced the mental barriers back into place. He was the enemy child. No doubt a Duke or Count’s child, which meant that Phil had to be patient with him. Good diplomacy and all of that.

“You! Little boy! Where is your king?” Phil asked. The small bird in the back of his head urged him to make sure the kid was alright. It wasn’t fair for Schlatt to send a child to scout in front of him.

The boy couldn’t be any older than five or six, and that was the estimate since he could walk. He was far too skinny, a good hot meal would probably do the kid some good. And then there was the way his eyes were sunken as if sleep didn’t exist in his life. There was some bruising evident under his clothes. It made Phil sick just thinking about it.

The kid stepped forward, teetering dangerously from the weight of the sword. “I’m sorry sir. But I’m his majesty’s Cham-pi-on.” The kid chewed on the word, sounding out the syllables in an obviously childish way.

Phil’s heart sank. No. This was a boy . This was a child . He would not harm an innocent child. He might be a fan of Lady Death, but even she would not be so cruel as to send someone so young for him to kill. He would not take his life. He couldn’t quite do anything without it being some sort of slight against Schlatt he was sure, but he’d try his hardest to keep this boy safe for as long as he was in Phil’s presence.

Phil exchanged a look with Techno. His hindbrain was drumming into his skull, the edges of his thoughts felt like mush and he fought hard to keep the instincts at bay. Surely he wouldn’t lose it over a kid he didn’t even know. But there was a string that was pulling him towards the kid, and he would be foolish not to listen to it–surely.

Techno shook his head. “Phil you really shouldn’t. He’s Schlatt’s champion.” 

And yet the little boy stretched out wings , and Phil wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He mimicked the actions with his own wings. Though where Phil’s wings were feathery and soft, the boys were all leathery and scaled. Bright red and dipped in gold of all things. There were small scales dotting his face like freckles and nails that came to peculiar points. He was swaying on his feet, yawning with what must be exhaustion.

Oh he was so skinny, way too skinny for a growing hybrid. He really ought to be out of the cold, the warmer weather hybrids didn’t do well in the cold. What should have probably been messy blond curls were rusted and brown, lacking what would probably be something akin to luster in the red tint of dusk.

With what was too much effort, Phil managed to force his instincts to calm down. This was not his kid. He couldn’t act as though it was. He couldn’t let those stupid fucking thoughts blind him. This was still official business. This was Schlatt’s kid in one way or another.

“Are you now?” Phil laughed under his breath. He pointedly ignored Techno (who made sure he knew Phil was avoiding him with a pointed glare and a huff of annoyance). “Then tell me who my fierce competitor is so I can honor him formally in this duel.” He couldn’t help himself, he’d play along until night came and the boy tired.

The kid perked up at this. “Theseus! They call me Theseus! But… don’t tell Punz I told you this… but I think Theseus is fucking stuck up, so I go by Tommy. But only to people who aren’t mean.”

Phil’s enamored by the small child. He was precious in all the ways a chick was. The small way he looked around as if he’d get in trouble. Phil winked. “I promise, I’m not mean. I won’t tell.”

Tommy’s eyes flitted over to Techno. 

“He’s not mean either. Sure he looks gruff, but really he’s a big softie,” Phil whisper yelled.

Tommy nodded, eyes wide in wonder.

The more he stared at Tommy the worse it got in his head. He began to think about how it had been a while since he had a little one in the nest. Wil was too old for things like that, his own responsibilities kept him so distant. And there was an excited, tiny child, who was ripe for the taking. If King Schlatt wasn’t going to take care of such a treasure then he would .

And in all honesty he was keeping his instincts at bay for the most part. Even that stray thought wasn’t enough to pull him under. He was perfectly content with just living and existing with the small dragon in that moment. Because that’s what Tommy had to have been: a dragon hybrid.

He stared at Techno and Phil’s gold with greed and lust that was so becoming of a would-be prince. No. He would not think around those lines. Tommy was so gentle with the horses, petting them when Phil brought the boy close enough. He was so sweet and caring. Tommy was marvelous . Not a soldier. Never a soldier. When he got Tommy back to the nest he’d make sure–

Centuries of practice keeping his instincts in check. He could keep them away. He was keeping them locked down. Really! He had had centuries of experience at taming the stupid chirps and tweets of affection in the back of his head. 

He couldn’t deny that it was adorable how the kid stared up at Phil’s crown with lust and green, licking his lips as his eyes danced across Technos jewelry. Always coming back to that no matter what the kid was talking about or doing. He’d always steal a glance.

And when snow first hit his nose he sneezed fire . Puffs of smoke left his mouth. He didn’t know how to handle his hybrid traits yet. Phil wouldn’t be the one to teach him. Oh and Wilbur would just love a little brother.

He turned to face Techno, pleading with everything he could that wasn’t verbal to convince his friend to let him take home the child. With a slight shake of the head Phil was brought back to his senses. This wasn’t his child. This was Schlatt’s. This wasn’t finding another nestling, this was stopping a war. He hated his job sometimes. 

“Okay little one,” Phil cleared his throat and turned around to face Tommy who was trying to melt the snow with his small huffs of fire. “Go back and tell Schlatt that I bested you, okay? Can you do that for me, precious treasure?” He asked.

Tommy tensed. The shift in atmosphere was immediate. He froze and started shaking, muttering nonsensically under his breath. He backed away, running from Techno and Phil in fright. That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all. Tommy shook his head. 

“No no no,” he said. “I can’t go back. I won’t go back. They don't want me back. You can’t make me. You can’t, you can’t.”

Phil glanced back over to Techno who shrugged—ever so helpful. This is why Techno was not his official advisor. He did better with strategy and battlefields than he did with small children and other people. Gods, he needed more friends than his son and Techno Blade.

Phil took a tentative step forward, careful in his movements. He didn’t want to frighten Tommy. “Can you tell me why you don’t want to go back?”

“I’m not allowed back until the Angels dead.” It was Phil’s turn to freeze. That was him. He was the Angel of Death. “I’m not allowed back at all! They’ll take my wings if I come back early! That can’t happen, I won't let it happen!”

Tommy pressed his wings to his back and shook his head as he cradled himself.

That bastard was planning on doing… what? He was going to do what?

Phil stretched out his wings. They fluffed out and Phil let out a death rattle. Something deep and unsettling that vibrated in his throat. It was unlike any other call he made. It was unique to him and his son alone. No other Elytrian or Avian could even dare to make that noise.

He was vaguely aware of Techno sighing beside him.

Tommy’s head snapped up. There was the oh so familiar look of fear . Not directed at Schlatt or Punz or whoever. When Tommy trembled it was because of Phil.

Phil hated seeing the fear in the boy's eyes. The way they sparkled with unshed tears was detestable . Everyone else could have keeled over from terror, but not Tommy. Tommy couldn’t be scared of him. He wasn’t quite lucid enough to realize why Tommy was scared. All he knew was that his little boy was scared of him. 

And just like that his instincts slammed into him. He went reeling from the want, the urge –no– the need to protect the chicklet. The fledgling was scared of him. No no! That wouldn’t do, not at all. His nestling was supposed to be okay and happy . The bird took control of his brain and he let out a low coo, trying to soothe the boy. Tommy took a hesitant step backward.

He clicked his tongue like he had with Wilbur so many times before. It was the sound of a parent reprimanding its child. Yet Tommy whimpered, a pathetic sound in the back of his throat. No! That wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to stop! He was supposed to stand still and wait . But Tommy didn’t. 

Tommy ran.

Tommy turned and ran, deep into the forest past the border of the Antarctic Empire and back into Essempi lands.

Phil didn’t care. He stretched out his wings. There was always a thrill to a hunt. He was a predator by nature. He licked his lips, adrenaline pumped under his veins. He needed to make sure the baby was safe. He needed to make sure that his nestling was safe. He’d hunt all day and all night, encroaching on anyones territory to make sure that that happened. 

It wasn’t what he wanted to hunt for his child. He wanted his boy to come to him. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Tommy was scared. Phil had to take matters into his own hands. He ditched his sword and raced after his nestling. Someone so young was going to get hurt on their own.

Maybe a bit fortunately for him, Tommy wasn’t in too great of shape. He tripped and fell over a root in the forest. The baby cried out in pain. No! He was failing as a protector. He was failing. His baby was hurt and it was his fault. Phil swooped in and pulled Tommy close to his chest. His little treasure was safe.

At last.

He let out a low croon, looking over the baby for injuries. Nestling was hurt. He didn’t have any fucking– he was so unprepared and it was coming to bite him in the ass. Phil poked at the nestlings leg and the nestling cried out again, a distressed and inhuman noise. He cursed himself, wings fluffed out as he paced back and forth trying to figure out what to do.

The moon was up in the sky, cold moonlight peaked through the canopy. It was late at night, mobs were going to find their way to the duo soon enough and Phil left his sword as it was dead weight. The trees whispered in the winds, a silent threat to those who listened close enough. Surely Lady Death wasn’t coming for him? 

Tommy had gone tense in Phil’s hold. He didn’t dare move. His wings were pressed flat to his back. Not okay. Phil loved the fledgling wings. They were beautiful and peculiar. They were marvelous and Phil wouldn't let anyone take them from him. He cradled his fledgling despite the whimpers that came from him. 

Coo’s and croons filled the air as Phil tried to calm down the baby. It all seemed futile. Tommy refused to relax. No. No. No. Phil shook his head. He was a good protector, a good caretaker. He could do it. He could. Tommy just… He flinched when Phil brought a hand to his face. He thought Phil was going to hurt him. He wasn’t going to hurt Tommy. He wouldn’t dare.

He cupped his child's head with his free hand and wiped away the silent tears that rolled down Tommy’s face. He kept cooing and crooning. The fog in his brain grew thicker by the moment. Eventually… slowly… Tommy started to relax. He at last realized that Phil wasn’t going to hurt him. Never a treasure as precious as a dragon hybrid. Never Tommy. 

A branch snapped underfoot. Phil turned to face the threat, wings puffing up once more. Techno had a hand up and was slowly approaching Phil like one would a wild animal.

Phil hissed.

Tommy cried out.

“Lady Death give me strength,” Techno whispered under his breath. “You’re both gone. We need to get you back to the castle.”

Phil turned his body away from Techno so that Techno couldn’t take his treasure away from him. His precious treasure. His small boy. Tommy purred. Or at least it was a poor imitation of it. It was so high pitched and he did it with uncertainty.

Hah! Phil cocked his head at Techno. Techno’s pupils expanded just slightly before he shook it off. The bitch. He was falling for the little one too!

“You can keep Tommy, yeah? But he’s hurting, and the court physicians can look after him better than either of us can.”

Yes! Yes, the court physicians were wonderful. The court physicians could take care of his baby. They had healing potions and things that Phil did not have. That meant that he needed to get to the castle. With a hesitant nod Phil took a step toward Techno.

“That’s right old man, let’s get you two back to the nest.”

Phil hopped from foot to foot. Yes! The nest! That was great! He loved the nest. Oh, Tommy would love the nest too!

He spared a glance at the boy while they were walking back to the horses. He was starting to fall asleep, eyes heavy as he reached up for Phil’s crown. Without a second of hesitation Phil took it off and put it on the young boy's head. It was too big, but it made the boy happy. He had a million more at the castle. All that mattered in that moment was Theseus. He’d have his own crown soon enough.

________

Tommy was groggy when he woke up. But he was warm. He sunk deeper and deeper into the plush mattress. His head was on a cloud. Warm light filtered slowly into the room. He still wasn’t all there . Not really. He could still feel the remnants of fuzz eating at the edges of his brain, making him all soft. He curled his wings around him, pulling the blanket closer to his chin. It was nice.

It was wrong.

His eyes opened with a start. He didn’t have a nice bed. He hadn’t earned it. He hadn’t killed the Angel. He sat up a bit too fast. His head pounded with a dull ache. He was dizzy and his legs felt like jelly.

With a glance out of the window he could tell that it was too late in the morning. Punz and Schlatt were going to have his head. They’d actually kill him this time. It wouldn't just be close, they’d actually kill him. They were going to take his wings. He pressed them flatter against his back. They remained perfectly stock still.

The room itself was much more extravagant than anything he had ever earned before. The ceilings were raised, vaulted with dark colored russet wood. If he had been any more distracted then his wings would have opened at the thought of flying around. He wasn’t distracted. His wings remained still.

A golden chandelier hung from that same ceiling, it glittered in the early morning light. It made his instincts start humming again. He shut them down, squeezing his eyes shut. The rest of the room was impersonal. A desk with a quill and a notebook was nestled into the corner and there was a bookshelf filled with books he couldn’t read.

He wasn’t allowed to read.

Tommy couldn’t remember what happened. He had met the Angel and then? And then what? It got fuzzy at some point. The Angel was nice and Tommy didn’t want to kill him. And he couldn’t remember that much. 

His eyes locked onto the door. He pressed himself against the wall. Those were footsteps. Footsteps that he didn’t recognize. Oh gods he was in trouble. Oh gods he was going to die. No no no no no. Without his permission a whimper escaped his lips. Schlatt and Punz never liked when he did that. They never liked when he made noises that weren’t human, or succumbed to stupid stupid instincts. He was better than that. He was a big man.

The doorknob turned and standing in the frame was someone that Tommy didn’t recognize. He was tall. A dumb fucking tall bitch. He had gold glasses frames and a golden circlet donning his head. That’s all that Tommy really noticed. The little voice in the back of his head that was bad wanted it. They wanted to add the gold to his hoard. He wasn’t allowed to have a hoard though.

THe guy stared at Tommy with this dumbfounded look. He blinked, warm brown eyes complementing curly brown hair. He wore the extravagant outfit of a king . A long brown tailcoat was over a flowy poet’s shirt. He had an emerald necklace that rested around his neck. It was on a golden chain. Tommy wanted it.

But he couldn’t be selfish.

The guy took a step forward. Tommy whimpered again, squealing as his instincts pressed him further against the wall.

Then the guy puffed out black wings that were reminiscent of the Angels. He took a step back and held up his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you.” There was a rustling down the hall. Tommy yowled, he wanted his protector . He wanted his hoard. He… he.

Oh .

Oh no.

“Get away, get away, get away,” Tommy said. He was shaking. It was hard to breathe and his head was getting all floaty. This was bad. This was really really bad. He was going to die. He wasn’t supposed to imprint on people. He wasn’t. He wasn’t supposed to have a hoard. He was breaking all of the rules. Bad things happened when he broke the rules.

He whimpered again and the guy got closer. 

There was more rustling and the vague sound of someone hitting the floor.

Tommy brought his hands to his ears and shook his head. He didn’t want this. He wanted to go home. He didn’t have a home. He wanted Henry. Henry was the only hoard he had and he wanted it back. He needed it back. Everything was loud and there and he was scared. He was so scared. He wanted help. He wanted someone by his side.

As if the gods heard his answers, there were gentle hands pulling at his arms. “C’mon kid. Breathe with me, just breathe.” The weird guy said. Tommy followed the exaggerated breaths. He was good at listening. He was good. He was!

“‘M sorry,” Tommy muttered when he could at last talk again. 

The guy hummed in response as he rubbed tiny circles right between Tommy’s wings. “You don’t need to apologize, little one.”

Tommy nodded. He didn’t understand why he didn’t need to apologize though. He made himself a bother. He wasted time. That meant he was being bad and had to apologize. If he didn’t then he got into trouble. Maybe this guy didn’t know the rules. Tommy should probably tell him so he doesn’t also get into trouble.

“Where?” Tommy asked instead, his voice not working with him. He leaned into the man’s side. He was already fucked right? If he was going to get in trouble he might as well enjoy the warmth while he had it.

“Oh! Yes, I suppose you were quite out of it weren’t you?” The guy laughed under his breath like he had just said a particularly funny inside joke. Tommy didn’t get it. “My name is Wilbur Craft, little one. And you’re currently in the Antarctic Empire.”

Tommy hadn’t noticed large feathered wings had wrapped around him until he tried to move away. He was stuck pressed into Wilbur’s side. He whimpered. He wasn’t supposed to be in the Antarctic Empire. Schlatt was going to be so so mad. He was already a lazy dragon, now he was in enemy territory.

Wilbur moved his hand from Tommy’s back to his head, getting Tommy to effectively melt. He didn’t want to. The touch was gentle and scratched at his scalp in just the right way.

“None of that now,” Wilbur whispered. It hit his brain just right. It was getting harder and harder to shut off his instincts. He supposed that Wilbur didn’t like him being all dragony either. He wanted Tommy to be as human as he could be. If that were the case then he should stop playing with Tommy’s hair. “You’ve got Dad all messed up.”

“‘M sorry,” Tommy muttered again. His words were slurring more and more. He really didn’t mean to be bad. It was just so hard.

His eyes caught on something shiny and golden on his bedside table. He reached for it but his arms weren’t long enough. He let out a high pitched whine. Wilbur laughed again and grabbed the crown.

“Do you want Dad’s crown?”

Tommy nodded. He wanted it. He wanted it badly. He reached out and whined again, demanding the gold in his hands. He wanted to add it to his hoard. Wilbur handed it to him. Tommy narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Wilbur as much as a five year old could. Yes. Wilbur would make an excellent addition to his hoard.

He put the crown on his head and Wilbur cooed. “Aren’t you just adorable? I could see why Dad wanted you. Do you want to go to the nest and see him?”

Tommy chirped. Yes yes yes! Protector! Protector! He yelled as loud as he could. He rumbled, deep and menacing. Super menacing! He grumbled. Take him to his protector peasant! Wilbur scooped him up, resting him on his hip. Tommy bobbed his head as he got closer and closer to his protector.

Phil was sitting with his arms crossed in the best fucking looking nest ever. The door was silent when it opened.  Techno was leaned against one of the many bookshelves, arms crossed and eyes closed. Tommy wasn’t deceived though. Punz had taken that stance too many times before. He was only pretending to not be aware, but the second Tommy was bad Punz would snap at him. Techno was obviously doing something similar.

Tommy pressed closer against Wilbur, noticing the tusks that protruded from Techno Blade’s lower lip. That was a predator. A piglin. No. He wasn’t supposed to get near other hybrids like that. They were dangerous. Schlatt had said that it was bad for Tommy to have sympathy for other hybrids. Tommy was going to have to kill them all eventually, purge Essempi.

But he wasn’t in Essempi. He was in the Antarctic Empire. That didn’t stop him from trying to reach for Wilbur’s wing, to draw it in front of him and hide.

Wilbur laughed at the action, moving his wing to indulge Tommy.

He was going to be in so much trouble if he ever got back to Essempi. Schlatt was going to punish him. He was going to lose his wings. He didn’t want to be in the warm and cozy room with a bunch of strangers. But he also didn’t want to lose his wings. He hadn’t even flown yet! He couldn’t lose his wings yet.

“Are you shy?” Wilbur asked.

Tommy pressed his head into Wilburs shoulder. He didn’t want them to see him. He wanted to go back to the nice room. What if Phil saw him and realized he wasn’t worth protecting? What if he didn’t care for Tommy the same way. What if Tommy’s stupid instincts had gotten in the way again. It wasn’t fair to force that on Phil.

“Wil?” Phil said.

Tommy perked up. He didn’t mean to. His tail wagged at the voice. That was his protector! Protector here! Protector good! He chirped in that vaguely birdlike way that he knew how too.

“I brought a friend… but if he doesn’t want to show his face…” Wilbur teased Tommy, tickling his nose.

He sneezed, small flames leaving his mouth when he did so.

Tommy wanted to see Protector. He snorted, reaching out for Wilbur to put him down. Wilbur shook his head, he moved his wing once more, letting Tommy see the room again instead of midnight black and treebark brown.

Piles and Piles of blankets were arranged on the floor in what looked like the comfiest nest ever. There was a perfect little spot for Tommy right next to Phil. Knick knacks and pictures were mounted on bookshelves along with archaic texts and weathered pages. A fire sat farthest from the blankets. A window looked out into the sky, Tommy could only see a glimmer or two of the brilliant blue through the drawn curtains.

The fireplace was cackling and Tommy found himself drifting nearer to the warmth. Wilbur was still holding him, propped up on the prince’s hip.

Tommy noticed the gold that was everywhere and found himself drawing further and further into his hindbrain. He swallowed back thick saliva. He didn’t know the rules. He didn’t know what he was allowed to do and what he wasn’t. He was stuck wanting but not knowing if he could.

He saw how Techno was draped in gold, a circlet donning his head and threads weaved into various braids. Tommy pulled on his own hair in response, wondering if he could grow it out long enough for that. Punz had insisted on keeping his hair short, long hair was a detriment in battle – that’s what he said.

“Oh,” Phil said. His feathers laid flat and the corner of his eyes crinkled with a kind smile. “Aren’t you sweet?” He reached his hands up towards Tommy but pulled them back.

A pathetic whimper formed in the back of his throat. Had he already messed up? Did Protector not want him? He knew he was a chronic screw up, but he hadn’t even moved . How had he already made Protector hate him? He was good for nothing after all. Schlatt was right. He wasn’t worth a single penny.

Tears streamed down his face against his tears.

Wilbur tried to calm Tommy down, bouncing him with comforting shushing noises. It didn’t work. Tommy continued to cry. He wasn’t supposed to cry. He was a big man! He was a big big man! He couldn’t help it though. He had a second chance and he already blew it! Maybe it was better to go back to Schlatt with his tail tucked between his legs.

“Phil,” Techno warned.

“Techno,” Phil bit back. It was harsh and grated against Tommy’s ears. Protector was mad . This wasn’t good . 

Wilbur sighed. “Tech, I think he’s the only one.”

“That’s more work for you. You’ll be covering for Phil while he’s out of it.”

Wilbur stretched out his wings, they brushed against Tommy’s scaly ones. Tommy calmed for half a second, remembering how Phil’s wings had wrapped around him so protectively. He had belonged in that moment. He wanted it back. He wanted his Protector back!

“I’ll drag you out there with me you cheeky mother fucker,” Wilbur all but laughed under his breath. Tommy growled. It was a very fierce noise! Really it was! Ignore how Wilbur laughed. “I think this little one is about to throw a tantrum if we don’t give him over to Phil.”

Techno sighed, but eventually relented. He stood up straight and waved his hand. Wilbur put him down on the ground and Tommy was running into Phil’s arm within moments. Phil chirped and though Tommy couldn’t understand it, Tommy chirped back. He still had the gold crown on his head, it was still comically large, Phil only adorned Tommy in more gold. Chirping and making sure that Tommy was safe and warm in the nest.

Wilbur and Techno left sometime during that whole thing. Phil cleaned under Tommy’s scales, making sure they were all shiny. Tommy went limp in the warm hold, crashing against Phil’s chest in a desperate attempt to stay up right.

He didn’t want to go back to Essempi. He wanted to stay with Protector.

______

He didn’t have to go back to Essempi. In fact, Phil wanted him to stay. He was wanted . He tried to swear up and down that he’ll be a good soldier for Phil. He could be the fiercest dragon ever and kill so many people for Phil! He could. He’d even mind his manners, he knew the proper way to address royalty. He could be good. Really really good.

Phil had looked at Tommy in horror. He exchanged a glance with Techno and Wilbur that morning while Tommy stuffed his face with whipped cream and pancakes. “Mate… you don’t have to be a soldier. If you want, you can just be a kid… you can be my kid.”

Tommy had broken. He had stopped his attempts to enjoy the nice food while he had it. Schlatt had done the same thing, he had shown Tommy the glories of what he could earn. And then Tommy never earned it again. He had thought that Phil was doing the same thing so Tommy had been stuffing his face.

He placed his fork down, sniffling. He was wanted? Phil wanted him to be his . He didn’t have to fight anymore? Tommy broke down right then and there. Phil panicked, rushing over and comforting Tommy.

“It’s alright. It’s alright. We can do whatever you want to do, Tommy. Just give me the word.”

“I want to say,” Tommy had whispered into Phil’s shirt. “I want to be happy.” It was sacrilegious. He hadn’t been happy with Schlatt, but he could never say so. He couldn’t say it since he didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

“I’ll give you the world, Tommy, my little prince.”

From that day onward Tommy had been given his own room! He had his own nest, big enough to fit all of the people Tommy had added to his hoard. They were his , no one else's. They knew it too. They all wore the rubies Tommy had gifted them – that he stole from the royal vault. He was the royalty though, and everyone had to be nice to him. His room was decorated and he had lots and lots of things in his hoard

Tommy got everything he wanted on a golden platter. He had nice clothes and his own crowns. He got to hang out with Wil and Techno whenever he wanted. He had servants and nice food and he didn’t have to earn any of it! It was all he ever wanted. They cared about him. They didn’t just like him because he was going to be a big scary dragon. They got him the world and didn’t ask why.

There was however one thing that Phil couldn’t get him. But he wanted him back. He wanted his hoard back. He was only allowed to have one thing in his hoard in Essempi. A stuffed cow named Henry. Schlatt had allowed Punz to give it to him. Without a single thing in his hoard Tommy was temperamental and more prone to falling back into his hindbrain. It had only served as a point of contention against Schlatt and Tommy. Schlatt would more often than not hold the stuffy over Tommy’s head.

Tommy steeled his resolve. That was the mostest important thing in his hoard! And he was getting it back one way or another. If he asked Phil, then Phil would get it. That was what he promised when he signed the fancy document making him a prince! He didn’t care that the servants or maids warned him that Phil was in a meeting. Phil always made time for Tommy! He marched himself to Phil’s office, uncaring of the meeting going on. 

He was draped in Antarctic blues and whites, a stark contrast to the black and reds that made up Essempi colors. He felt nicer in the colors, he felt like he belonged. For once in his short life he felt like he had a place. He was the prince. A golden crown sat on his head. Everyone listened to him! And no one was ever mean.

He made his way to Phil’s desk, throwing open the door with an echoing thud. Phil looked down with an exasperated smile. He was used to Tommy’s antics and though he should probably dissuade the behavior he kept encouraging it. He picked Tommy up and sat him down in his lap. Tommy smiled at the obvious distaste in the nobleman’s face. He stuck his tongue out at them. Wilbur had told him that there was an even better thing to do when noblemen were pissing him off. He said he’d teach Tommy when Tommy was older though. 

Noblemen sucked and he ruled. Objectively speaking, of course.

The nobleman reeled back in disgust but couldn’t say anything bad about Tommy. Those who had tried, who had suggested not to take Tommy in, were met with a cold glare that made Tommy’s scales itch. Phil would always take Tommy’s side, a fact that he would exploit for as long as he lived in the castle.

Phil pressed a kiss to Tommy’s head and Tommy preened under the affection. He had a dad! He had never had a dad before. He couldn’t remember his birth dad. He was killed when Tommy was just a kid. Then Schlatt would fail to make up as a father figure after he would steal Tommy from the nest.

“What did you need, treasure?” Phil asked, his voice all soft and bordering on a gentle coo.

Tommy warmed. He loved when Phil was focused on him. He loved when he was talked to like he was delicate, like he could be broken. He wasn’t some dangerous beast. He was a kid. He loved being a kid. He loved being taken care of.

He loved getting what he wanted.

“I want Henry back!” Tommy announced with flourish. The nobleman rolled his eyes, but still kept his mouth shut.

Phil paused. “Ah, and who is Henry?”

“My stuffed cow, Punz got it for me. It’s the bestest piece in my whole hoard! And it’s still in the barracks!” Tommy whined. He knew exactly how to get everyone to do what he wanted. He was sure that they knew he was playing them, but they didn’t care. They were happy to do it.

Phil smiled as he set Tommy down, a spark of something nefarious in his eyes. He never looked at Tommy with malice though. It was alway kind. Always gentle. “We’ll get him back. Don’t worry. Now I think Techno needs help with the soldiers—“

And just like that Tommy was gone and running down the halls. They had servants running after him but he didn’t care. His fancy ass shoes clicked against the tile and it was the freest he had ever been. He loved pestering the soldiers in the barracks. Correcting their form was too much fun!

Later that week Techno came into Tommy’s room. He was covered in dry blood and soot. Tommy sneezed. A bit of fire singed the edge of his blanket. That wasn’t the important part. The important part was that Techno was holding Henry!!! Tommy leapt off of his bed and brought Henry to his chest.

“Thank you, Thank you, thank you!”

______

Meetings were boring as hell. Tommy didn’t like them. The older he got the more he grew to despise them. Particularly, he grew to despise having to sit in on them. When he was younger he could play with the servants and maids. However, he couldn’t do that anymore. He especially hated how Techno and Phil would fuss over him every single time. It didn’t matter how many meetings he sat in on, no matter how many times he out witted the nobles, it started the same.

Phil rubbed a dust speck off of Tommy’s crown. Tommy licked his lips while Techno adjusted his cuffs. He threw them both off. He smoothed out the light blue coat and played with the golden button himself. He sighed. 

“Can you two leave it?” He asked. He knew the answer that was coming.

“Never, Treasure ,” Techno taunted. And if they weren’t in the most flammable part of the castle Tommy could have torched the fuckers face. Techno wouldn’t have even flinched. He was immune to fire in much the same ways that Tommy was.

Tommy’s face instead flushed a bright red while he ducked his head of low embarrassment. “That doesn’t get any less embarrassing.” 

Phil laughed, wiping some dirt from Tommy’s face with a gentle stroke of his thumb. “You don’t seem to mind it when you’re high off your marbles.”

“And that is what we call instincts, bird brain,” Tommy retorted with ease. Phil squawked, puffing out his wings in the way only he could.

Tommy had tried to mimic the movement when he was younger, but he couldn't do it since he didn’t have feathers. His wings have earned him a happy little nickname though “The Dragon of the North”, not quite the same as The Angel of Death, but hey, he’d take it.

There was a cool sense of satisfaction that came with meetings. A steady pulse of adrenaline buzzed in his veins. He might have hated them with a burning passion, but he did, however, find entertainment in how the nobles squirmed whenever Tommy trapped them with words of steel.

His tongue was quicker than Wilbur’s, something that the courts detested. He grew up listening to Wilbur smooth talk his way into and out of deals like the devil himself. If Wilbur was the Devil then Tommy was Lucifer with his tempting offers and quicker wits. With a flick of his wings they knew that they were fucked. Tommy smiled when a nobleman spoke out against Phil. He always found extra delight in those moments.

Tommy took his seat next to Phil, on his left since Techno sat to Phil’s right. Wilbur typically sat in Tommy’s chair, but Wilbur was doing business in L’manberg as he often did. Tommy didn’t mind. It just meant that he could see the rest of the table better.

It started off fine. But then one jackass caught his attention.

“Pardon my language, your majesty, but that plan is just plain idiotic? Wouldn’t sending troops to the border towns incite violence from Essempi?”

Tommy stretched out his wings and yawned, glancing over at Phil who nodded for Tommy to take this question. The fool had the gall to insult the intelligence of Tommy’s people, and they were going to pay for it. He didn’t take fo

He flicked his tongue, watching as Phil handled the question with grace and ease while Techno rolled his eyes.

Tommy was not known to have the same patience as his hoard. He didn’t appreciate people talking down on what was his .

“For decades now, Sir, that bastard Schlatt has been killing hybrids en masse. He killed my parents and then kidnapped me. We’re sending a message. We’re not taking his bullshit anymore. Question their judgment again and face me.”

It didn’t matter.

That night the screams of the nobleman rocked him to sleep. He tore at flesh and burnt it to a crisp. It filled his nose and reminded him what it meant to be a dragon. He roared, fierce and undeterred. The blood coated the walls and he didn’t care. He got to nest with his hoard that night, making sure that they were all perfectly okay. No one would harm them.

He had found a home. It was extra satisfying when he got to be the one to burn down the Essempi castle.