Chapter Text
The evening is suddenly filled with turmoil.
Wilbur is just returning from geography class when the palace explodes with running and chatter about how the guards found two strangers who made their way into the palace grounds through the gardens. At first, the prince thinks that thieves or assassins have been caught, but everything turns out to be much stranger.
They were children.
Two boys — one the same age as Will, a teenager of about thirteen, and a six-year-old child. They are standing in the center of the throne room, clutching each other tenaciously and clearly preparing to run if anything happens, when Wilbur slips inside, takes a place at the side doors and begins to watch.
There are only two guards. The King stands in front of the children close enough, but not so close as to make them nervous. His pose is relaxed, there is no rigidly straightened back and proudly straightened shoulders — this is what he always does when he wants to drive away some people's fear of the great, unattainable monarch and make it clear that in front of them is a friendly person ready to listen to their problems.
The children don't look very good. Their clothes are terribly worn out and not too warm for February, rough bags hang heavily on their backs, their faces are haggard. The teenager has brown hair just below the shoulders, and the child has short golden hair. The older boy hides the younger one behind and looks at the king with frowning eyebrows and compressed lips, but clearly trying to make his face more detached so as not to cause trouble. The younger one looks with some admiration, but obediently hides behind the teenager and nervously clings to his belt.
"Don't worry, I promise you two won't be harmed. Punishments are needed for those who do something bad, and you didn't do anything like that, right?" Philza speaks softly and persuasively.
Wilbur watches the strangers with interest. The older one does not change his facial expression and remains motionless, while the younger one fidgets and opens his blue eyes in hope.
"So what's your name?"
The teenager blinks, it seems, for the first time ever, and slowly opens his lips.
"Technoblade," he shoots out quickly and clearly, "This is Theseus…"
"I'm Tommy!" junior shouts loudly at the same time as the elder and immediately stops, snuggling closer to someone else's side and running his eyes from the king to Techno. Technoblade keeps a steady hand on his small shoulder.
The King nods benevolently.
"What unusual and beautiful names," Phil bends lower, putting his hands on his legs and bending at the knees, as if trying to look smaller. "I'm Philza, but you can call me Phil. Are you brothers?"
Technoblade risks a brief glance at Tommy, almost immediately returning him to the king.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Philza does not lower a light, relaxed smile. It's not a mask. Wilbur cranks his neck curiously.
"Where are your parents?"
Technoblade thinks hard for a couple of seconds, straightens up even more and sighs briefly.
"We don't have any, Your Majesty. We fled from distant countries to settle somewhere in a new place. We didn't know that we were invading your kingdom and the territory of your palace. I am sorry and ready to bear any responsibility, but I ask you to show mercy and not touch Theseus — he is just a child and innocent of anything."
He lowers his head and stares at the floor, the grip on Tommy's shoulder tightens. Tommy looks at his brother in shock and concern. Wil mentally raises his eyebrows at this. Wow, this guy is serious.
"And you are also a child who is innocent of anything," there is no smile on Phil's face anymore, but it is still kind and understanding, the tone is calm and measured. "I'm not angry. Both you and your little brother are safe here."
Technoblade visibly relaxes, lowering his shoulders and finally inhaling deeply. He's still holding Tommy tight, but at least he doesn't look ready to run or go to the chopping block at any second.
"Can we go now?" the teenager asks.
"I'm not holding you. But..." the king hesitates, "Maybe you would like to stay for a while before going on the road again?"
Both boys freeze and look at Phil with incredulous amazement.
"It's just a suggestion! But you two look..." Philza hesitates, searching for the right word. "Terrible," Wilbur finishes for him mentally. "Tired. How about at least spending the night in one of the spare rooms?"
"In the palace?!" Tommy exclaims admiringly. Technoblade gives him a strange look.
"Well, of course in the palace," Phil laughs. Wilbur recognizes the note of relief in his voice. "I'll tell the servants to make a bed in one of the spare rooms. There will be a big soft bed, a bathroom and plenty of space for your things, and you can lock yourself from the inside if you want. So?"
Silence.
Technoblade slowly, slowly turns his head to his brother and examines him from head to toe. Theseus stands on tiptoe and smiles, beaming with joy and hope.
A little more silence. Techno finally turns back and tensely weighs something in his head. He, Wil thinks, has the potential to develop the skill of hiding emotions, but so far it is not too difficult to recognize them. Although, maybe it's the fault of a particularly stressful situation? Yes, perhaps there is no need to jump to conclusions.
"...Okay. We'll stay the night."
Tommy becomes even happier, and Philza smiles with that little smile that comes to him after difficult but successful negotiations.
"Great!" the king straightens up and looks around the hall, stopping first at the guard, and then at Wil. "Find someone who could prepare a room for our guests. Wilbur, birdie, come here."
The guards nod respectfully and go into the corridor. The prince, without bothering himself with decency, trots up closer, stands next to his father, puts his hand on his heart and bows slightly with a friendly smile.
"Greetings, Technoblade, Theseus. I am Wilbur, Crown Prince of the Antarctic Kingdom."
Technoblade studies him with a calculating look – not the one with which noble persons check his weaknesses and shortcomings, in order to take advantage of them or poke at them with contemptuous malice. Rather, he is just evaluating a new person.
"If you're a prince, why don't you have a crown?" Tommy asks. Technoblade tenses up again, as if this question could be perceived as an insult.
"Well, crowns are hard to wear all day," Wil laughs, "I often take it off when I want my head to rest. I'll tell you a secret," he puts his palm to his cheek and continues in a conspiratorial whisper, "Even the king does not always wear a crown!"
Tommy sighs in surprise.
"Really?!" the boy turns to Phil with a question in his eyes.
"Yeap." the king nods and laughs.
Theseus looks happily at his brother, as if asking if he can believe it. Technoblade snorts slightly, lifting the corner of his lips for the younger one.
Wilbur giggles at Tommy. Funny guy. Only a little pale and a little thin. So, clearly, knowing the father, the guests will not leave the palace without having breakfast. And without at least a couple of new shirts, perhaps. And... oh God, their shoes are absolutely killed.
"Do you want to have dinner in the dining room or in the your room?" Philza asks, slowly moving towards the exit of the hall and encouraging his to follow him. Wilbur is on a par with Techno, who has now taken Tommy by the hand.
"Dinner?" Technoblade asks again, slightly incredulous, as if trying the word on his tongue. "This is… Very generous, Your Majesty."
"What? No, it's the least I can do," Phil shakes his head, "Simple hospitality. You've been on the road for a while, right?"
"Mmm. This is."
They walk slowly down the corridor. Windows leave sun spots on the floor, paintings and curtains gradually darken in the sunset rays. The day is getting longer every day – it's not far from spring, the awakening of greenery and the equinox.
The brothers look at everything that their gaze can reach. Tommy – with undisguised admiration, all the time turning around with his mouth slightly open and almost forgetting to move his legs, Techno – stealthily, clearly more focused on some of his reasoning.
"Don't worry, Technoblade," Wilbur waves his hand, "Phil just wants to make sure you're all right. There would be no need for a good attitude if we were planning to send you to the dungeon!"
He calls his father by name. Maybe these fugitives will take an example from him, and it will be a little easier to melt the ice.
Technoblade is studying the prince again, frowning. His brown eyes seem to glow scarlet in the sunset light.
"Yes, I think so. And, uh, we'd like to have dinner in the room."
The maid passing by the meeting briefly nods to Phil and Wilbur instead of bowing and not so subtly tries to examine Techno and Tommy for the couple of seconds that they are in her field of vision. Tommy snuggles a little closer to his brother, but looks at the already retreating figure with the same curiosity as everything else. Yes, by morning there will not be a single person in the palace who does not know about unexpected guests.
They turn past the security post and approach rows of equally large doors on both sides of the corridor. Soon Philza, followed by the children, stops in front of one open room, flanked by guards.
"Thank you, you are free," the king says, the guards bow and leave. The servants are still bustling around in the bedroom, but it looks like they are already finishing preparations. "Okay, I guess you want to rest. If you need anything, ask the guards or one of the servants."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Technoblade speaks not so tightly and sharply as in the throne room, but rather politely on duty. Progress.
"It's so big!" Tommy sighs, looking into a spacious bright room. Techno also pays attention to it and slightly widens his eyes. "Everything is so big here!"
"That's why it's a palace, to be beautiful." Wilbur grins.
"I wasn't talking about being beautiful," Tommy turns back to them, "I mean, everything is big and beautiful, but at first I didn't say that."
Phil doesn't hold back his giggles and covers his mouth with his palm, and Techno shushes junior softly.
"Tommy."
"What?! You yourself told me to train the accuracy of words! And I explained my exact words!" the boy is sulking.
Wilbur laughs, shaking his shoulders and squinting his eyes. The servants quietly slip out of the room, one bows and leaves, and the other Philza, still smiling fervently, asks with a gesture to wait a little.
The prince wants to say something else to continue the conversation, but his father puts his hand on his shoulder.
"Good night," he says. Wil has to slow down and wave his hand. It's a shame: he's terribly curious to find out something about these mysterious brothers, but Dad must be seeing something that he doesn't see.
"Good night, King Philza, good night, Prince Wilbur!" Tommy waves his whole arm briefly but energetically from shoulder to palm and runs into the room, clearly tired of burning with impatience. Technoblade throws an awkward "U-uh, yeah," nods and also retreats inside, closing the door with a quiet knock.
Silence descends on the corridor. Well, almost – in the bedroom, Theseus is clearly talking cheerfully about something.
Phil sighs and they start to leave. Wilbur basks in the feeling of a warm palm and listens to Philza asking the maid to bring dinner and some clothes for the guests to sleep. After receiving instructions, the maid leaves, and the king stops, looking questioningly at his son.
Wil grunts and pulls him into the office. Phil would have gone there anyway, and Wilbur was just planning to read something today, sitting comfortably on the sofa there and listening to the strokes of a pen with a thud of seals.
"Are you thinking of offering them a place in a shelter or in the city?" Wil asks as the door, familiar to every pattern, closes behind them.
"I'll try," says Philza with a sigh and sits down at the table, "Damn it, traveling alone as children, and even not knowing the exact map. I swear, if I were their parent, I would go crazy."
Wilbur snorts, picks up a book from the stack on the coffee table, and settles back on the couch.
"Yeah. Do you think it will be hard to convince them to join us for breakfast? I'm curious. Techno doesn't seem to be very talkative, but Tommy is quite a funny guy – I wonder where they are going to go at all…"
"Don't overdo it, Wilbur," the king takes off his crown, rustles papers and pulls an inkwell towards him. "Technoblade is clearly not in the mood to trust anyone without a good reason, and this is understandable. There's no need to make the two of them worry, they've probably been through a lot."
The teenager grumbles, but mentally agrees. Yes, unnerving uninvited but still guests are not very good.
They fall silent. Phil wears his hair in a ponytail. Wilbur focuses on the letters. The purple pillow under the cheek is pleasantly cool. The office smells of wood, warmth, coffee and a little chocolate cookies.
Philza looks thoughtfully at the table, burying his pen in his cheek. The elbow rests on the table. Hair escaping from the tail tickles the skin.
"If they still want to go further," Phil says quietly to himself, "We need to give them things and money for the road. And a map. And point out good places where you can settle. And... and still try to persuade they to stay in the kingdom."
Wilbur grunts in agreement.