Archive of Our Own

Rumor had it that the latest of the Crown Prince’s hunting ventures had been disastrous.

Some said that his small party had ventured too far into bear territory. Some remarked that the Dark Forest north of the capital of the Antarctic Empire was sacred to the old gods, and even with Lady Death on their side, they shouldn’t have tempted their fate. More than half of the men who had accompanied the Crown Prince had been decimated, and he himself had been injured, albeit not too severely. It was the first loss he’d ever incurred.

And yet, that tragedy wasn’t the hottest piece of gossip in the Royal Palace. Apparently, amidst all the chaos and bloodshed, Prince Technoblade had found his very first concubine, finally putting to rest the belief that he had no interest in securing a line of succession for the Kingdom once he finally rose to power. A great worry among the citizens, since it was very well-known that the Second Prince, Prince Wilbur, wasn’t reliable or serious enough with any of his concubines to properly ever choose one of them to make into his consort.

Tubbo wouldn’t have much cared for any of that as a mere laundry boy, except for the fact that the new arrival came with a promotion for him that he quite literally couldn’t refuse. The letter he’d found, telling him to pack his few belongings and hurry to the new concubine’s living quarters, had been signed by the Crown Prince himself. There was a non-negligible possibility that ignoring it or turning down the offer could have resulted in his execution. And Tubbo liked having his head attached to his neck. Quite a lot, actually.

So, with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, he made his way to the middle section of the Palace where the concubines lived with their ladies in waiting, their personal aides, some more high-ranking servants, and the guards specifically selected for that job because of their lack of… reproductive capabilities. He’d never ventured that far in before, as common servants like him were relegated to the outer circle. He’d never had a desire to move up in the ranks either. He had been quite happy just hanging out with Ranboo and doing menial, repetitive work that he could easily tune out while chatting.

Assisting a concubine was much harder, and it was a task usually reserved for the children of more well-off families who knew all about royal etiquette and whatever fancy shit could be requested of them.

Thinking about it, Tubbo had no clue why he’d been selected.

Perhaps it was because he came from Snowchester, the closest settlement to the Dark Forest. Maybe that was where Prince Technoblade had encountered his concubine, and he’d wanted a familiar face to work by her side. Not that it would have done him much good, as Tubbo had left rather early on with hopes for a better life where he could put his intelligence to use much more so than he could ever have in that small community of fishers. A dream that never ended up panning out, as he never had the money to afford an education. Or housing. Or literally any materials he could have used to build his gadgets.

Well, he couldn’t complain too much. At least life at the Palace up to that point had been easy.

In front of the Ruby Pavilion, where his new charge had taken up residence, was a single guard, albeit a high-ranking one that he recognized as a member of the Crown Prince’s personal entourage, Sam Dude. They must have been seriously worried about attempts on the new concubine’s life to have her guarded by such an important Official. Either that, or Master Dude had messed up big time on that hunt, and standing there welcoming all the assistants and ladies in waiting was his punishment. He did look sufficiently scuffed up for the latter to be an option…

Tubbo approached him, bowed to him, and handed him the letter he’d been given.

Master Dude inspected it for a few moments to ascertain its authenticity, and then nodded to himself. “You’re the last of the aides that had been summoned”. At least it seemed as if Tubbo wasn’t gonna work alone… and, considering the fact that he’d taken the longest to arrive, the others were likely already servants in the middle ring. Which meant that, unless they decided to just bully and ostracize him for being an outsider, he could learn the trade from them. “No one has made the cut yet”. Never mind. His plans were for nothing. How could he have been so foolish as not to see that one coming?

“Is the lady that peculiar?” he asked, nervously, only noticing his lack of respect once all the words had left his mouth already.

If people better educated than him had failed, he truly did not stand a chance…

He wondered if he’d be allowed to return to the laundry duty he’d grown accustomed to once he got rejected, or if he’d be executed for disappointing the Crown Prince. Either way, there was nothing he could do about it. There was no point in worrying about something entirely out of his control.

“Not a lady” Master Dude corrected, seemingly not having given Tubbo’s rudeness much thought. It wasn’t the most surprising thing in the world, the Second Prince’s favorite concubine was famously a man as well, but it was also not the most common for princes to choose same-sex partners, as they usually couldn’t bear them any heirs. “And… peculiar is… definitely a good way to describe this concubine…”. Even with the mask he wore that covered the bottom part of his face, Tubbo could tell that he was grimacing.

That didn’t bode well for him…

With a great deal of trepidation, he ventured into the Ruby Pavilion. As they approached the Tea Room, where the concubine was supposed to wait for them so that they could conduct their interview, they started hearing the sound of trashing, growling, and snarling. It was as if a wild animal had managed to sneak in.

Concerned, Tubbo looked up at Master Dude, only to find him still surprisingly composed. That same grimace from earlier hadn’t abandoned his face; as a matter of fact, it was getting more pronounced with every step they took; however, worry for the safety of his charge had yet to cross his expression.

Once they entered the room, Tubbo understood why.

There was only one being in there: a blond teen, with wide blue eyes, teeth bared in a threatening display, and only the Crown Prince’s bloody cloak to preserve his modesty. From the dirt caked on his skin, the twigs and leaves trapped in that messy nest Tubbo identified as his hair, and the countless wounds marring his body, he doubted that he would have cared even if he had been fully naked. He wondered if that beastly boy had ever set foot in a city. There had to have been nobody in the woods he spawned from to teach him how he was meant to behave for him to end up looking so feral.

And that brought up one bigger issue… that was who the Crown Prince had chosen as his very first concubine?! It had taken Tubbo longer than he would have liked to admit to even identify him as a human! What had that royal moron been thinking?!

He turned to give Master Dude a bewildered look, only to find him backing away from the scene slowly, hands raised, and eyes still locked on the concubine. With one look, he confirmed that the feral boy’s aggression seemed to be entirely focused on the guard. He wasn’t sure how long that was gonna last, though, so he followed the Official up to the exit.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask: what had happened to the other aides that had been summoned? Who was that feral boy? Where had he been found? And, by Lady Death’s grace, why had the Crown Prince chosen him as his very first concubine? If the state of that teen ever came to light, it could ruin his reputation! And that was without taking into account the fact that the other was still clearly too young to be a concubine. It wasn’t unheard of for a Prince or an Emperor to take on someone young, even younger than that boy, for political purposes and then wait a few years before consummating anything, but… he doubted a few more years could teach him to adapt to life in the Palace when it looked as if he’d been raised by wolves up to that point…

With all those thoughts running wild in his mind, the only thing he could get out was a feeble: “What’s going on…?”.

He must have sounded pathetic enough for Master Dude to take pity on him, because the man’s features softened for a moment, and he sighed. “He saved the Crown Prince’s life” he explained. “Bringing him here was the only worthy enough reward the Prince could think of”. That, at least, was reassuring. The intentions of the Crown Prince could still be misconstrued into something nefarious by outsiders, but it was nice to know that he’d just been trying to protect the kid who saved him, in his own way. “As far as we’re aware, he doesn’t have a name, parents, documents, or anything, really. Prince Technoblade decided to call him Theseus, but he only acknowledges you if you use the nickname Tommy”. Tubbo could imagine that their dear Crown Prince was feeling rather butt-hurt about that last part. He would have sympathized with him, had he not relegated him as the feral teen’s babysitter for the foreseeable future… “I know it’s a lot to ask, but there truly is no one else who can take care of him. I’ll be around to help, so… give it a try? Please?” his begging sounded surprisingly earnest.

Although there was no point to it, it wasn’t as if Tubbo could refuse after all…

With a simple nod, his new life as the personal aide of the Crown Prince’s one and only concubine began.

---

When he was about eight years old, Tubbo had found a baby raccoon all alone, hiding in the dark alley behind the fish shop his father occasionally worked at. It had been infested with fleas and was dirty, clearly barely holding on to its life. He’d taken it home, of course. His father had built a huge contraption that managed to bring some water from a nearby river inside a basin in their home through a system of underground tunnels and pumps. When they needed to drink it, they boiled it in a pot with a bowl inside, all covered with a concave lid, so that the clean water could go up toward the top and drip down into their bowl. He figured that, to get rid of the parasites covering his little friend, clean water would have been better, so he painstakingly waited until he had enough to fill a bucket with it. Thankfully, he always kept some soap of his own making handy, so the rest of the process had been more or less easy. Still, his furry friend fought him the whole way through, as if he’d been hurting it instead of helping it.

That experience taught him a valuable lesson: wild creatures were prone to lashing out, and he could either suck it up or never go out of his way to help one ever again.

Tommy didn’t react to the mention of a bath; however, when Tubbo approached him to lead him over to the bathroom, he scurried off to hide behind one of the sofas he had disassembled and growled at him in warning. Keeping that lesson from his youth in mind, he didn’t let the aggressiveness discourage him. Towel in hand, he pounced on the feral teen and tied his arms tight enough that he couldn’t use them to scratch him. Of course, he still ended up bitten as he carried the other, but he figured it still counted as a victory. Rabies would be worth it if he didn't have to deal with the sickly sweet smell of old blood anymore. 

The bathtub in the Ruby Pavilion consisted of a pit they’d dug into the ground far enough that they could reach the thermal spring that ran right underneath the earth in that area, which they had then covered in marble and gold, an outlandish and needless display of wealth in Tubbo's opinion. That said, at least the vapors rising from the water distracted Tommy enough for him to slacken his jaw a moment. A mistake that Tubbo immediately used to his advantage, by dropping the other teen in without even bothering to take away the cape he’d been wearing or the towel he tied him up with.

The tub wasn’t deep enough for him to drown, even clothed, and those things were probably contaminated too by that point.

Tommy let out a loud shriek and tried to scramble out of there, looking more startled by the sudden drop than his possible watery grave, but Tubbo managed to keep him in with some effort. The other was a lot stronger than he’d originally assumed, looking at his thin frame, and he had a pretty decent intuition when it came to fighting as well, which was why Tubbo had taken to talking him through every step of what they were doing since the very beginning. He doubted that the blond could understand a single word of what he said, but his voice alone was enough to confuse him and calm him down momentarily.

“We can’t postpone it anymore; some of your fresher injuries could get infected” he explained, observing as the fight quickly left Tommy’s body.

Once he was sure the other wouldn’t bolt out of there as soon as he let go of his shoulders, he got up, grabbed some soap, some mixed oil which, hopefully, would help salvage some of that messy mane the other had going on, and some marigold oil, which he made himself and had Master Dude fetch for him from his previous living quarters earlier that day, to help heal all those small and big cuts he could see much faster. Some chamomile would have been good too; it would have reduced any possible inflammation he was likely to have much faster, but he had yet to spot any inside or around the Palace.

Perhaps he could ask Master Dude to check if the apothecary had some the next time he visited.

Noting that down in his mind, he turned back to his charge (who was staring at him with huge, unblinking blue eyes) with two jugs and a bar of soap in hand. Tommy growled at the unfamiliar objects, and Tubbo rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be a baby, they won’t hurt you” he lightly scolded, before thinking it over again and humming. “Probably” he amended. “Maybe we should check on a small portion of your skin first if you have any adverse reactions to them” he mumbled under his breath as he went back to the spot he’d chosen for himself by the side of the tub.

He’d noticed before that contact with certain harmless things could result in rashes for certain people. There was a neighbor of his in Snowchester that had once been gifted golden earrings by a wealthy merchant who had been trying to earn her affection, and they’d left her ears a mess of inflamed skin and pus. The merchant had taken her complaints as a rude rejection because he was a moron, but Tubbo had learned a far more important lesson from it. Always be on high alert.

Gently, he removed the towel still tied around Tommy’s shoulders and lifted one of his arms out of the water. Tommy watched his every move, tense and ready to attack as always, but there was also a glint of curiosity that Tubbo could see in his eyes. While the blond wasn’t as… socialized as most, he was no idiot. From the start, it had been clear that he could adapt to his surroundings and his situation surprisingly well. He had to; otherwise, he wouldn’t have survived alone in the Dark Forest his whole life. That wasn’t a place built for humans. It was the land of the old gods, it was ruthless, and it had managed to claim the lives of several of their elite soldiers.

It was impossible not to wonder how Tommy had ended up there… had his parents abandoned him at birth? Had he wandered in as a small child? Had he been kidnapped to be sold only to end up lost in the wilderness? Was there anyone out there still looking for him? Had there ever been anyone?

For all the faults Tubbo’s father had (of which there were many, with his passion for booze and addictive substances being at the forefront), he knew he would have at least gone looking for him had he disappeared without a trace one day. In his own way, he loved him. He didn’t know if Tommy having someone like that would have made his whole situation sadder or more hopeful.

Noticing his frown, Tommy lifted himself out of the water as much as he could and bumped his forehead against Tubbo’s. Hard. He appreciated the gesture, of course, but he really had to teach the guy how to control his strength eventually, unless he wanted to end up worse off than him.

Still, it got a smile out of him. “Thank you, I needed that” he said, as he reciprocated the gesture much more gently. Perhaps doing so could teach the other what to do a bit better. He knew that the change he was hoping for would be gradual, so, for the time being, he resigned himself to having some patience. And adding mountain goats to the possible list of animals that could have raised Tommy alongside raccoons, wolves, and bears.

He refused to believe that a baby could have survived in that forest by himself, but, then again, had he been abandoned when he was already older, he would have known how to speak at least a few words, right? So, some animals mistaking him for one of their own and protecting him at least for a while made the most sense to him. Either that or his instincts yelling at him that the boy wasn’t human were right.

Focused on the task at hand once more, Tubbo proceeded to test the unguent and soap on the sensitive skin of the underside of Tommy’s forearm. He’d noticed before, in some experiments he’d run on himself whenever his father was too busy getting sloshed at the local tavern to monitor him, that it was one of the most reactive spots on his body. At least among the easily accessible ones.

After about a quarter of an hour, no rashes appeared, so he deemed all of his concoctions safe to use.

And testing them had the unexpected, useful outcome of Tommy getting more comfortable with them. He sniffed at his arm, curiously touched each thing barely with the tip of his tongue, little enough that it wouldn’t be dangerous. He didn’t seem to be a fan of any of the flavors, but he clearly liked the smell of the soap and the texture of the oils.

During the two days Tubbo had spent in the Ruby Pavilion thus far, he’d made sure to mainly serve the concubine meat, fruits, nuts, and raw leafy vegetables. They were things he was sure the other could have procured for himself in the forest, so they were the easiest to start from to get him fed. And, to his credit, Tommy had eaten everything he’d been served after a thorough inspection. However, Tubbo was starting to realize that his original assumption had been perhaps a bit skewed by personal bias. After all, he didn’t trust others and rarely, if ever, agreed to try things that had been offered to him by strangers. Meanwhile, his charge had shown to be rather adventurous, even if he reacted to anything too unfamiliar by biting.

He made sure to note that down in his mind as well.

Perhaps he could let the chefs do their job and prepare Tommy’s meals as they’d been asking to do since the start. He could instruct them to keep things simple, at least at the start. And serve everything on silver plates. Just because his charge was careful with everything he consumed, it didn’t mean that he’d be expecting poisons that required very small quantities to kill. So Tubbo would use his knowledge to cover any area Tommy was lacking in. Silver, highly reactive as it was, was a good place to start. Though if he got a chance, he’d be asking Master Dude for the equipment required to make a more accurate detector.

“Alright, enough dillydallying, let’s get to cleaning your hair” he huffed out after rinsing off Tommy’s arm.

At the mention of his hair, Tommy pushed himself away from the edge of the tub and dived underwater, all while glaring at Tubbo and hissing. He was such a drama queen sometimes…

The sun had gone down by the time he managed to wrangle Tommy into position and work through his knots, remove the layers of dirt that covered him, and treat his wounds. He was glad that the water in the bath was constantly flowing; otherwise, it would have become unusable a few rounds in (the bath hadn’t run uninterrupted, as Tommy needed to hydrate and have his skin breathe. Tubbo had learned that from Ranboo and their weird water experiments). He was exhausted, and Tommy looked like a very grumpy long-haired dog; no part of his face was visible because of the cascade of gold in front of it, but he could sense his displeasure. It really felt like nobody won that day.

“Remind me to clear a full day any time I gotta give you a bath” he grumbled from his place splayed out on the ground.

Tommy mimicked the sounds he made in an annoyed tone. No words were recognizable in the jumbled faux speech he made, but Tubbo was impressed that he was already trying nonetheless.

Talking to him nonstop was definitely the way to go then!

---

Tubbo had already been working at the Ruby Pavilion for a couple of weeks when they got their first official visitor.

One might have thought that would have been enough time for him to prepare, but he had only just barely gotten Tommy to start wearing clothes other than his beloved cape the day before, and, so far, he had only managed to get him into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt (not even an elegant one. It was an old beaten-up red and white one his father had gotten him back when he still hoped there was a chance he’d be getting into sports).

The Tea Room, which was supposed to be a cozy little space where they could welcome their guests and exchange pleasantries for a couple of hours in the afternoon, resembled a war zone since he’d been using it to try and explain to Tommy how to use the cutlery. Ceramic shards littered the floor, there was a fork embedded in the dark oak table that he hadn’t been strong enough to pull out, and the silver plates his food came in had been turned into a makeshift fort in one of the corners of the room furthest from the entrance.

The living room wasn’t in much better condition. The pillows from the couch and chairs had been disemboweled so that Tommy could have the materials necessary to build himself a comfortable den between the fireplace and the wall, Tubbo himself had rolled up and put aside all the carpets since his charge couldn’t seem to figure out how to walk over them, and there was a visible crack that ran through the middle of the expensive marble coffee table that he couldn’t remember the origin of. The chandelier was thankfully still intact, but he doubted that would have been enough of a saving grace to keep his head attached to his neck if anyone discovered the state of disarray the entire Pavilion was in…

Master Dude was aware of all of that. He visited rather often, seemingly having developed a soft spot for both Tubbo and Tommy. However, he was powerless to deny a request that came directly from the favorite concubine of the Second Prince. Not only because he was just a guard for the Crown Prince and not anyone with much authority, but also because, from what he’d heard, Sir Quackity always had a way to get what he wanted. He was persuasive and ruthless. Exactly the kind of man the more pathetic of the two princes liked.

However, even if he could do nothing to prevent that meeting, he at least warned Tubbo in time (well before the servant that had been sent by Sir Quackity to tell him the news), and he stayed over to help him clean up as much as possible. He admired the man’s hardworking nature as well as his optimism. To believe that a makeover of the Ruby Pavilion was possible was foolishness. And yet he persevered, keeping his head low and his hands busy. He was sure that he would have made a fine husband for someone out there, if he were into that stuff, of course.

By some miracle, they did manage to get the living room looking… somewhat presentable.

They hid Tommy’s den behind a fancy bamboo partition with an intricate Piglin Brute design woven through it in red silk, they covered the broken coffee table underneath a cute white centerpiece with a crimson spider lily motif running along the border of it, and they replaced the destroyed pillows with some new ones Master Dude got delivered just in time from the Central Palace. Everything had been dusted, the floor had been mopped, and whatever cutlery remained intact had been polished to perfection. In a stroke of luck, Tubbo had even managed to force his charge into a pair of beige cargo shorts that had also once belonged to him (getting him into any of the fancy clothes that the Crown Prince had selected for him had been a lost battle so far, and they were already almost out of time to prepare that day, so it was pointless to resume that fight), so his nonexistent modesty was safe-ish.

Sir Quackity arrived at five in the afternoon, just in time for some tea and refreshments, as he’d promised. He was accompanied only by a couple of his aides. Tubbo guessed that one of them was his food taster, and the other one likely his head aide. He’d been kind enough to follow Master Dude’s request to keep things simple, thankfully, although, compared to him and his companions, Tubbo still felt awfully under-dressed and under-prepared. The two of them moved efficiently as a unit. They looked like they were born for that job. As if it was something they enjoyed greatly, and not something they’d been saddled with against their will.

Meanwhile, he and Master Dude looked like they’d just gotten done dealing with a hurricane and had not yet had the time to rest or bathe. Which, he supposed, wasn’t too far off from the truth.

Sweat was making his clothes stick tighter to his skin than he would have liked. His hair was a mess. And he was certain there were still some oil stains on his skin from his tinkering that morning (Master Dude had finally gotten him the parts he’d requested to build his poison detection machine. He’d been so eager to finally get back into his passion that he hadn’t hesitated before throwing himself at that project. It had entertained both him and Tommy for a couple of hours, before they’d gotten the dreadful news that they wouldn’t have had the whole day to themselves like they’d grown used to). Looking down, he spotted one peeking out from under his right sleeve, and immediately rushed to pull the fabric forward to cover it up. His movement didn’t go unnoticed by Sir Quackity, who raised an eyebrow at it but, thankfully, didn’t comment on it aloud.

That one was going to be a long and tedious meeting, wasn’t it?

“Was the new concubine not warned of our arrival?” one of Sir Quackity’s aides, a short but muscular raven-haired man who gave off the impression of someone with a fiery temper, asked. He was grimacing as he eyed Tommy’s clothes up and down.

Such blatant disrespect would have been called out and swiftly dealt with by most, but Tommy didn’t even notice it, nor would he have done anything but bare his teeth and growl if he had. Regardless, he was too focused on the plate of pastries in front of him to even glance at their guests. Tubbo was surprised he wasn’t outright drooling at the sight as he’d done a few times before. Or that he hadn’t thrown himself on them yet. He usually showed far less restraint when it came to food. Maybe he had noticed their company after all…

That said, since his charge was saying nothing, Tubbo knew that he couldn’t speak up. He knew he couldn’t lose his temper. It would have reflected badly on Tommy, and the poor guy needed all the help he could get socially; he didn’t need one more hindrance.

Sir Quackity didn’t have the same reservations. “Enough, Sapnap” he snapped. “Can’t you see that this place is understaffed as is?”. Sapnap, as the raven-haired man was apparently called, shrank in on himself at the harsh reprimand. Tubbo decided then and there that he also liked the Second Prince’s favorite concubine. He was much more direct and understanding than he’d expected him to be. Strong-willed and compassionate… those were good qualities to have for a consort. If Prince Technoblade ever chose someone to actually keep by his side in the long term, perhaps he could look into stealing that one. “A young aide, a younger concubine, and a guard… what is the Crown Prince thinking?” he finished off his speech, sighing and leaning back on his chair while massaging the ridge of his nose. He looked tired all of a sudden. Maybe a bit frustrated too.

And, by the Old Gods, Tubbo definitely understood that sentiment.

He knew that Prince Technoblade had been looking for a way to reward the one who’d saved his life, but did he really think that the Royal Palace, with all of its politics, expectations, and rigid way of life, was the best place for Tommy? A zoo would have likely been better equipped to handle him! And, if not that, perhaps an orphanage? Or any place where he would have been at a lower risk of getting poisoned for simply existing! Bringing him there had been a poorly thought-out move. And leaving Tubbo alone to take care of him (as the only one of the candidates who wasn’t in a high enough position to turn down the offer) had been cruel.

It wasn’t even as if he despised Tommy’s company or didn’t enjoy taking care of him, because he did. Being there gave him access to resources he could have only dreamed of as a lowly servant in the Outer Circle. He was happy he didn’t have to waste away doing menial labor that required no thought. And it was fascinating to be able to observe such a unique specimen up close.

But being in front of Sir Quackity and his aides made it obvious how ill-equipped he was for it all. Tubbo didn’t know any Royal Etiquette and, truth be told, he wouldn’t have been able to advise Tommy on how to dress for different occasions even if his charge didn’t have a deep hatred for any clothes that didn’t belong to Tubbo. He didn’t know how to dress himself either, but he was lucky enough that he’d been given a uniform he could rely on. There was no way he could avoid embarrassing the Crown Prince’s concubine. He’d been set up to fail, and it stung.

Angry tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, and he had to blink quickly to push them back.

Noticing his distress, Tommy let out a concerned warble and gently grabbed his cheeks in his hands to be able to look more closely at him in search of injuries. Of course, he didn’t know the connotations of that gesture, but the intimate nature of it had Sir Quackity’s aides gasping. It only made him feel like even more of a failure, and, perhaps because of that building disappointment, he pushed his charge’s hands away from him a bit more harshly than he should have. Tommy looked hurt. He looked down at his hands, then back up and Tubbo’s face, and then got up and marched out of the room without another sound.

Master Dude ran after him.

Tubbo did not.

What was the point in doing so? He’d fucked up beyond repair already… and all in front of Sir Quackity, who was sure to tell on him and get him executed. It wouldn’t even have been an act of spite or revenge, just a tactical move, the kind the other man was known to make. Tommy was an obstacle that had appeared in his path to power. One that he needed to remove if he ever hoped to become the new Emperor’s consort one day, and, hopefully, procure his husband some heirs or whatever.

It would have been silly to resent him for taking such a golden opportunity.

Despite that, Sir Quackity seemed nothing but concerned when he spoke up again: “Is it my presence that has caused you two so much distress? Or was it something I said?”. Even after witnessing that pitiful display, he remained kind. He even shushed the murmurs of his two aides with a glare, clearly not taking kindly to them getting started gossiping before they were even out of the doors of the Ruby Pavilion.

Maybe there was a chance for some mercy then.

If it wasn’t over yet, then Tubbo had to fight for whatever chance he had at preserving some of his and Tommy’s reputations. He owed it to his charge. Not because he was his superior (he hardly saw it that way, and he doubted Tommy understood the concept of hierarchies), but because, had the roles been reversed, the blond would have fought for him, he could feel it in his gut.

“It’s not you, Sir Quackity. Just…” he had to be careful with his words, something he’d never been good at. Public speaking wasn’t a skill he’d ever cared to refine before. Now, however, he was starting to recognize that doing so would have had its benefits. “Sir Tommy is not like other concubines. He requires more specialized care. Which is why the Crown Prince handpicked me to look after him. However, as you may imagine, looking after someone of his rank by myself is…” he couldn’t come off as whiny, otherwise some may have accused him of being too greedy or spoiled. The kind of opportunity he’d received was one most people of lowly birth didn’t even dare to dream about. And, truth be told, his list of complaints was much shorter than he thought it would have been at first. “Hard work. I’m happy to do it, but last-minute preparations like today are very demanding for both me and my charge”.

Was that good?

Had he managed to salvage the situation at least a bit?

It would have been more acceptable for Tommy to be overwhelmed by the intricacies of court life he’d been pushed into because he’d had little to no warning, than because he’d seen his poor excuse of a head aide cry after all. It could still lead to him being considered as too emotional; however, that had to be preferable to his complete lack of understanding and regard for social norms. Besides, Sir Quackity had already noted his young age, and that was bound to work in their favor when it came to that display of overabundant emotions from earlier. Many things could be excused due to one’s immaturity.

But had he been convincing enough?

All the rumors he’d heard before about Sir Quackity were about his cunning and perceptiveness. There was no doubt that the Second Prince probably also favored him for his appearance, but it was well-known that a good verbal sparring was what truly got him going. Many nobles had trained their debate skills in the vain hope of earning his favor before, knowing that he was the more approachable of the two Princes. A useful stepping stone. And yet, even with all the time and money they’d all invested in that skill, none had bested the reigning champion. A man who’d come from humble origins at that. It was an open secret, and a shameful one. And it filled Tubbo’s heart with fear.

Sir Quackity studied him for what felt like an eternity, but was likely no more than a handful of seconds. Eventually, he broke that intense scrutiny with a small nod. “Karl, write down that the next time we pay a visit to the Ruby Pavilion, we’ll need to organize at least a week in advance” he ordered to the one of his two aides who had yet to speak up. The one with a far less striking appearance. Although… his ability to read and write certainly made him stand out even among the aides and ladies in waiting of the Middle Ring. Not many had been taught.

Karl produced a small book from the fold of his clothes, as well as a beautiful quill made from the feather of a peacock (an import from faraway lands that must have either been an heirloom or a present from someone incredibly wealthy), and a small glass vial full of ink. He didn’t waste any time before cracking the book open and, presumably, jotting down what he’d been told.

Once he was done, and all of his equipment was concealed again, Sir Quackity pushed himself up from the plush chair he’d been sitting on and smiled warmly at Tubbo. He knew that it was probably a mask he’d practiced plenty, but it still appeared so sincere that it put his mind and heart at ease. “I’ll see to it that you get some help” before Tubbo could interrupt him to beg him not to do so, he raised a hand, silencing him. Every motion of his was studied. Direct, but not brash. Elegant, but not soft. One thing was for certain: the Second Prince had a very peculiar taste in concubines. “I’ll be careful to phrase my demand in a way that implies that I have no complaints with your performance, quite the opposite in fact, as that is the truth. So, please, put your mind at ease. You’re young, you shouldn’t have to shoulder so many burdens. They’ll age you up. And many will use that as an excuse to consume all that you are”. The warning he ended on was accompanied by a look Tubbo couldn’t decipher.

No, that wasn’t quite true. It was more so the kind of look he didn’t want to understand. A familiar one. One he’d worn before. One cultivated from an intimate knowledge of the kind of abuse he spoke of.

The past was in the past; what was the point of indulging in it any further?

Still, he accepted the advice with a grateful bow.

Sir Quackity and his two aides left shortly after.

Only once they were gone, he found himself able to breathe again.

---

A couple of weeks had passed since Sir Quackity’s visit, and Tubbo had forgotten about his promise to get him help, when a very familiar voice distracted him from the machine he’d been tinkering with: “Tubbo!”. Turning around, he noticed the lanky frame and mismatched eyes he’d grown familiar with while living in the Outer Palace. Ranboo was running toward him, wearing a uniform that matched his new one, and smiling brightly.

Tommy, who wasn’t used to people he didn’t know intruding in their routine, immediately got in front of Tubbo and hissed at what he perceived to be a threat (really, though, Ranboo couldn’t and wouldn’t hurt a fly. He was a kind soul, if a bit awkward). Their roles often ended up being switched around as he had yet to figure out how to effectively communicate to his charge that he was the one meant to cover the protector role.

Ranboo’s movements came to a halt, their eyes were wide, and their pupils were shaking. They looked like a cornered bunny.

Not wanting the situation to escalate any further, Tubbo grabbed the back of Tommy’s shirt collar and yanked him back to his side. That earned him a pitiful whine, so he tried to soothe his charge with some head pats that were, as always, incredibly effective. Perhaps because the other had grown up in the wilderness with no human contact, he was seemingly starved for affection. Hugs, hand-holding, and giving him head scratches were all great rewards for when Tubbo needed one to teach him some manner of etiquette. Although Tommy didn’t seem to be as keen on accepting that kind of closeness from others. Not even from Master Dude, who was around almost as much as he was (although he did like curling up around the guard's feet when the two of them were standing around talking about some recent news or gossip, he often fell asleep just like that).

With his charge now calm, he turned to Ranboo with a quizzical look. “What are you doing here, Boo?”.

His friend hesitated for a moment, still weary of the aggressive display, but eventually shook his head and focused back on the matter at hand. “I work here now!” he exclaimed cheerily. “Sir Quackity himself came by the Outer Ring and asked if anyone there knew you and was good at keeping their mouth shut. I told him we’re friends and I forget pretty much anything, so my mouth is sealed regardless. He didn’t much like that answer, but he ran a background check, I think? And I guess that convinced him more. I don’t know. But I’m here now!”. Tubbo had forgotten how chatty Ranboo could get once he got started. There was always a nervous undercurrent to everything he said that, he supposed, some could have interpreted as him trying to conceal something, but he knew him better than that. Social interactions simply terrified him.

That said, that fear of theirs could be beneficial there, at the Ruby Pavilion.

Tubbo didn’t encounter too many nosy people while going about completing his duties, but he knew that his lack of inconvenient interactions was less due to a decrease in the general curiosity toward the Crown Prince’s first concubine and more so due to his unapproachable demeanor. Master Dude was a similar case. Getting to know him better, he’d discovered the man to be rather sweet. He was married to the Palace’s Apothecary and had a big soft spot for kids and fluffy beasts (he even owned a massive but friendly dog, Fran, that Tommy absolutely adored). As far as soldiers went, he was as soft as one could be. But that wasn’t the first impression he gave off to people. He could be quite standoffish and strict at times, and had a reputation for being a workaholic.

Anyone else assigned to look after their charge would have struggled far more to hold back the hordes of gossip-hungry servants. And the last thing they needed was for someone to buckle under the pressure and reveal to the world that Prince Technoblade had taken a feral teen who was more beast than human as his concubine.

The reasoning behind it would not have mattered to most. There were plenty of powerful families out there looking for any opportunity to smear and replace the royal line.

Ranboo, however, had a horrible memory that only worsened under pressure. That terror of theirs often made them blank on important details. And their shakiness and constant distraught looks were sure to make even the most coldhearted snoops regret ever asking them anything. They were perfect for the job.

And, of course, Tubbo was also just happy to work side by side with someone he got along with well.

Once again, Sir Quackity had proven to be rather clever.

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, grabbing the front of Ranboo’s button-up and pulling him down so he could sling an arm around his shoulders (the bastard was too tall), all so he could prove to Tommy that he wasn’t a threat. “Then let me give you a quick rundown. This here-” he pointed at his charge, who was currently staring at the two of them in suspicion, eyes squinted, and shoulders tense “Is Theseus, but he only answers to the name ‘Tommy’, and he’s Prince Technoblade’s one and only concubine. It is our duty to… somehow teach him how to behave like a human. I got him to wear clothes already, so you’re welcome”. As if he had understood what Tubbo just said and he wanted to prove him wrong out of spite, the feral teen in front of them pulled down his pants, a challenging look in his eyes as he did so, threw them at the two of them, and ran inside, cackling.

Tubbo sighed.

He could be such a handful sometimes…

“I feel like I’m being pranked here…” Ranboo mumbled under their breath. “Either that or I’m missing something. Right?” that last part sounded almost as if they were begging. As if they could will the truth to change if only they wished for it hard enough.

Tubbo hated to be the one to burst their bubble; he truly did, but he had to. “Nope” he answered cheerily. “That’s the one we’re serving”. Seeing the genuine distress on his friend’s face at the news, he decided to throw them a bone: “He’s not all that bad once you get to know him. He just… lived in a forest all his life. He’s kind and affectionate, but a lot of things are hard for him to wrap his head around. But he tries! He’s constantly attempting to speak, even if most of it is senseless babble. And he’s incredibly curious about anything new, especially food. It’s a struggle to earn his trust as he does have a tendency to see everyone as a threat, but I think it’s worth it”. It wasn’t in his nature to dish out praises so easily, but everything he’d said was true. So, for once, he didn’t mind sounding a bit sappy or over-emotional. He had time to make up for it for the rest of his life.

Ranboo mulled over his words for a few seconds before nodding. He gently removed Tubbo’s arm from around his shoulders and straightened up. His expression turned from the deathly pallor of terror he had going on before to one of sheer determination (some anxiety still lingered, but that was always true for him). He looked around until he spotted an allium flower from some garlic Tubbo had been growing in their inner court, and he headed over and delicately broke off the stem without ripping out the roots. With that in hand, he turned around and announced: “I’m gonna go introduce myself properly”.

Curious to see what exactly they had planned, Tubbo followed them inside.

They found Tommy curled up in his fluffy den between the fireplace and the wall in the living room. He wasn’t sleeping. It looked more as if he was pouting, in fact. Probably disappointed that nobody had chased after him earlier. Tubbo should have known that a game of tag was what he wanted; there were very few things that he enjoyed more than that.

When he heard them coming in, Tommy’s head perked up. He observed carefully as Ranboo moved toward him and sprang up once they got too close for his comfort… only for Ranboo to move the hand with the allium toward him at that same exact time and end up punching him in the face. Tommy fell back with a yelp, and Ranboo took a step back, mortified, before bowing down and profusely apologizing.

Tubbo couldn’t help but laugh at that pitiful scene.

Yeah, his friend was gonna fit in just fine.

Tommy was looking at Ranboo in confusion, stuck between being upset about the accidental punch and being concerned by that miserable string of apologies. Once everything got too much, he glanced over at Tubbo and managed to mutely communicate his discomfort and plead for some support.

He was sad to break up that awkward scene, but still. He couldn’t deny such a direct order; he wasn’t gonna lose his head over something so silly. So he walked on over, pried the poor allium out of Ranboo’s tight grip, and handed it on over to Tommy. “You two are friends now” he explained calmly once his charge accepted the small gift. Both of them stopped their lamenting to look at him as if he had just grown a second head. He smiled at them, patted them both on the head, and then turned back around to go tinker with his machines.

They could figure things out from there on their own, surely.

---

The first snow of the year was softly coating the world outside in a cold and silent embrace.

With a weather like that, most were confined inside, which meant no tinkering away in the yard for Tubbo. It wasn’t as if he had much time in the day to dedicate to his passion even under regular circumstances, but being deprived of it entirely after a good couple of months of bliss was torture.

Tommy must have picked up on his restlessness, because he was doing his best to be even more of a menace than usual (be it in an attempt to distract him from his misery or in a far too common case of him mirroring Tubbo’s emotions back at him in a cruel form of universal irony). He’d gotten Tubbo to chase him all around the Ruby Pavilion (at one point using Ranboo as a shield by climbing up on his shoulders and moving around him up there to always make sure they were on opposite sides of his head, to his poor friend’s utter confusion), even willingly throwing himself in the bath while fully clothed at one point and almost drowning himself doing so.

Currently, Tubbo was trying to find a way to get him down from the rafters without hitting him with a broom. As effective as that method would have undoubtedly been, if he had been caught hitting the Crown Prince’s only concubine by anyone, including someone as nice as Master Dude, he undoubtedly would have faced the death penalty. And, while he was pretty certain that his charge wasn’t aware of that, he was in a mischievous enough mood that he would not have put it past him to learn how to speak just to testify against him, regardless, and fuck him over.

It was during that unfortunate predicament that the front door of the Pavilion opened up, carrying with it the smell of ice and blood. And Tubbo froze.

The Crown Prince was also known to the citizens of his kingdom by another name: The Blood God's Champion. Rumors had it that, wherever he went, the stench of blood and decay would follow. He was a soulless warrior, according to some. A death machine. A weapon the Emperor had taken years to refine. He was heartless. Ruthless. His philosophy was to repay kindness with mercy and disrespect with violence. Tubbo couldn’t imagine someone like that taking too kindly to seeing the kid who had saved his life dressed up in the drenched, frumpy clothes of a servant when the world outside was currently so cold and unforgiving. They weren’t even close to the lit fireplace that could have offered Tommy a modicum of comfort. Perhaps someone more compassionate would have allowed him to explain their predicament, but all he was expecting from their unexpected guest was a swift execution.

He heard two thudding steps, and then the main door creaked shut behind their visitor, sealing them away from the outside world and from anyone who could have offered him any assistance in pleading his case. He was utterly screwed.

All that was left for him to do was close his eyes and wait for the time a blade would bury itself in his back. So that’s what he did.

However, his expectations weren’t met. He heard a happy screech he recognized as Tommy’s from up above, and then the sound of two bodies colliding, and a low rumbling laughter. Cautiously, he peeked open an eye and looked back, only to find quite the unusual sight: his charge was perched on one of Prince Technoblade’s shoulders, purring like a happy cat while trying to steal the Prince’s new fluffy wool-lined cape, and their royal guest was struggling to keep his balance and keep his winter attire on, but he didn’t seem upset about any of that. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was smiling from ear to ear and letting out quiet chuffs that were a mix of amusement and fondness all wrapped up in a layer of warm affection.

“Bruh… why are you always trying to steal my cape? You’re such a little raccoon. And you have the world’s stickiest paws” the Prince chattered away easily. It was shocking to hear him be so talkative. Unlike his brother, he’d never earned himself a reputation as a smooth talker. Quite the opposite, he was known to be the silent and deadly type, only speaking when addressed by the Emperor or when it brought him some tactical advantage.

It was one of the reasons why all the children of nobles who had attempted to ingratiate themselves with him throughout the years and had never succeeded tried to insist that his heart had to be made of ice, as not even the highest of flattery could get a reaction from the Crown Prince.

Tubbo was starting to think that most, if not all, rumors that circulated at the Royal Palace must have been either straight-up false or, at the very least, highly exaggerated. Because the man in front of him, while imposing and fully armed, was anything but the intimidating image of stoicism he’d been warned about repeatedly.

Despite that, he didn’t dare utter a word.

Even if his hunch that the Crown Prince wasn’t all that he was cracked up to be ended up being correct, nothing good could come out of making his presence known. Even if his head remained secured to his neck, receiving a reprimand for his poor performance would likely impact him negatively in the long term. What if he were no longer allowed to rummage through the trash in search of parts for his machines? Or, a far more dreadful outcome, what if he were no longer allowed to pester Master Dude for all the difficult-to-find materials that his heart desired? That would have been a fate worse than death!

“Oh, I didn’t know that we were expecting a guest” Ranboo destroyed all of Tubbo’s careful machinations with one nervous sentence. They couldn’t be blamed for having failed to recognize the Crown Prince, after all, it wasn’t as if he made it a habit of frequenting the Outer Palace, and he usually wore a boar skull to conceal his face and intimidate his enemies every time he made a public appearance, be it at a festival or on the battlefield.

Tubbo, too, hadn’t expected him to look so young and… normal. His pink hair had been arranged into a neat braid that reached his lower back. His face was sharp, angular, very similar to that of Prince Wilbur. His eyes were just as bright crimson as those of his brother, too. Although, unlike the Second Prince, he wasn’t lacking in the muscle department. However, there were none of the jagged scars marring his skin that one would have expected from a warrior of his reputation, and he wasn’t dressed in the soft blues and whites of the Royal Family. Had it not been for the smell of iron clinging to him, he doubted he would have been able to pick him out of a crowd.

As if he had only then remembered where he was, the Crown Prince turned to give Ranboo a sheepish look. “Knew I forgot something…” he muttered under his breath, before sighing and giving them both a pleading look that didn’t fit someone of his title. “Can we keep this minor mistake between us? I don’t want Quackity to end up finding out about it”. The mere thought of the Second Prince’s favorite concubine seemingly sent shivers down the supposedly unfeeling Prince’s spine. Yeah, those rumors had been full of shit, alright… “Remembering rules is always hard, and his headache-inducing lectures ain’t gonna make a difference”.

Hearing his plea was so surreal that Tubbo tried to pinch his arm just to make sure that he wasn’t experiencing some kind of fever dream. As it turned out, he was not, and his arm was now sore. He’d put a bit too much force into his test.

Ranboo, ever the people-pleaser, quickly nodded in agreement. “Oh, no worries. I also forget things all the time” they added with an encouraging smile, still clearly oblivious to the identity of their guest.

Before his friend could overstep even more toward the Crown Prince, Tubbo marched up to him, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him down to his level to whisper: “That’s Prince Technoblade”. Usually, he would have been worried seeing all the color drain so quickly from Ranboo’s cheeks, but that day, making him aware of what was going on was a matter of life or death, so he couldn’t bring himself to regret his actions.

Somehow, he’d even managed to be subtle enough for their Prince not to reprimand him for his shady behavior. As a matter of fact, the Crown Prince only gave them a fleeting, confused glance before resuming his endless fight with Tommy for the ownership of his cape.

After that, Ranboo quickly excused himself and hurried off to make some tea and try to find some refreshments for their guest. It was a smart move. Tubbo probably should have followed his example. It would have been a good way to avoid any possible sudden bout of wrath directed at him (the kind of sudden and destructive mood swing that would have explained the Prince’s reputation as a ruthless man) for his many perceived failings. But he didn’t. What kind of head aide would he have been if he just up and left his charge unattended?

So, instead, he stuck close to them, eyes fixed on Tommy the whole time.

His charge eventually managed to win that battle, cape secured, he scurried away from Prince Technoblade and back to his den beside the fireplace, likely to add his latest conquest to all his other spoils of war. The two of them followed him quietly.

Tubbo had expected some kind of snarky remark regarding the poor state of their living room, but the Crown Prince seemed impressed by it, if anything. “Our camp was in far worse conditions after a few days of travel with that little gremlin” he remarked. “He shredded one of the logs near the campfire to make himself a soft surface to lie on, and he stole clothes and the outer fabric of our tents to hide himself with, ruining them too in the process. I’ve had to give him my cape to stop his rampage then, otherwise I would have ended up with an uprising on my hands” he ended that story with a little chuckle. As if a child wreaking havoc among his closest soldiers was nothing but a funny tale to recount over a beer and not an act of treason punishable by death, had it been carried out by anyone else.

Although Tubbo supposed, saving his life as well as that of countless members of his personal entourage had to have earned Tommy some extra lenience.

“I had the time to clean this space up a bit, your Highness” Tubbo pointed out politely. “Two people aren’t much to work with, but we’re certainly not slacking off” he added after a moment, hoping that the Prince would pick up on his veiled complaint without him coming off too whiny because of it.

Sir Quackity had done him a great favor by recruiting Ranboo to work at the Ruby Pavilion alongside him. They were very diligent, even with their memory problems hindering them somewhat from remaining on task. And they made for wonderful company. Even Tommy had warmed up to them quickly. But they only raised the number of workers there by one. And, while Master Dude tried his best, he also had other duties to attend to and couldn’t always be around.

Most other Concubines, even lower-ranked ones, had at least half a dozen ladies in waiting and aides there to assist them. They were busier since they often had to organize parties or welcome guests, so Tubbo wasn’t expecting similar numbers. But having so few workers also reflected negatively on Tommy, who was already starting to get labeled by some as a recluse and couldn’t afford even worse slander to be spread about him. Without the Emperor’s blessing, even the Crown Prince would not be able to keep him around long if rumors of his being unfit for the palace started circulating. Not without getting impacted himself. And no amount of gratitude would ever get a royal to value one of lowly birth above their ego and reputation.

The Crown Prince blinked, as if surprised. “Only you and that other kid work here?”. At Tubbo’s nod, his brows furrowed. “I thought I’d sent for a good few workers, what happened to those?”.

Tubbo cringed, remembering what he’d been told on his very first day. “None of them made the cut” that had been Master Dude’s excuse. A nice way to say that Tommy’s wild nature had scared them off. Or, better put, that they’d been too cowardly and lazy to take on that job. Had his life not been on the line, perhaps he would have chickened out, too, so was he truly in any position to judge them? Resent them even.

Maybe not.

Maybe it wasn’t appropriate.

But he’d never been taught proper etiquette, so fuck them.

His excuse didn’t satisfy Prince Technoblade, who scoffed at it to underline how unimpressed he was with it. With them. Those spineless worms. “Typical. When there’s anything a bit strange, the people of this country cower in fear from it. Well…” his eyes met Tubbo’s, and a spark of curiosity lit up within them. “Most of them. Why did you stay? Because I remember you. You’re that kid from Snowchester. I figured you’d be somewhat familiar with the beings that lurk in the Forest of the Old Gods, beings like Tommy”. Beings? Did the Prince also suspect his charge of being something other than human? “But I knew it was a long shot getting you here. After all, I can imagine that life in the laundry section must have been easier…”.

Tubbo’s thoughts were scrambling to make sense of all of that. Of the fact that someone so high up had taken notice of him. Of the fact that he’d been selected in the hopes that he’d know what Tommy was and how to handle him. Of the fact that, in the end, he did. He’d stayed and he’d figured it out, a little at a time. His charge was still a work in progress, an unfinished project, but they were getting there. And, if he dared be so bold, at least in his own mind, they were already friends. That was more than anyone else could have claimed.

Tommy was at his most comfortable when he was around Tubbo and no one else (with the Crown Prince possibly being an exception to that rule, based on what he’d seen that day). He only wanted to wear his clothes. He loved basking in the sun next to him as he tinkered with one of his machines. He loved taking part in his experiments. And he felt safe around him. And Tubbo could honestly say that the same was true in reverse. He enjoyed the blonde’s company, even if he was a menace, and he forced him to chase him around for hours each day. Never having been the best with emotions, he appreciated having someone around who was so empathetic and could always tell when something was bothering him, even when he himself couldn’t. And seeing him calm never failed to reassure him to a certain extent that things were okay, because his charge was far more alert and aware of threats than he was.

“At first, I just knew that it would have been foolish for someone in my position to refuse an order from you, your Highness” he admitted honestly. And, before the Crown Prince could cut him off with whatever argument he was holding on the tip of his tongue, he continued: “But now, well, I just enjoy working here. I care a great deal for Sir Tommy, and I want to help give him a good life”.

His honesty must have caught the Prince off guard, because he was taken aback for a moment. Speechless. After that initial shock passed, his expression turned thoughtful. His crimson eyes flitted between him and Tommy a couple of times, then his shoulders relaxed a fraction, and another fond smile curled his lips. “I’ll get you all the help you need” he promised. “I doubt there will be many who would be as willing and passionate as you about looking after Tommy, but I’ll do my best to find at least a couple more by the time the Blood Moon’s festival comes around. Does that sound agreeable?”.

“Of course, your Highness!” he was quick to answer, elated at the thought.

The Prince’s good humor vanished as quickly as it had appeared, to be replaced by dread. “I suppose it would be best if I asked Quackity for some advice in the matter… ugh. I’m not looking forward to that…”.

“May I ask a question?” Tubbo asked, keeping his voice level and his eyes glued to the floor, not wanting to accidentally overstep and destroy all the progress he’d made that day. He was curious, but he wasn’t a fool. The Prince gestured for him to continue, so he did: “There seems to be some hostility between your Highness and Sir Quackity. And I was… sorta curious as to why that was. If that’s not too personal, of course!”. He raised his hands placatingly as he reached the end of his speech, already preparing himself to backtrack if needed.

Surprisingly, the Prince didn’t feel the need to reprimand him or punish him for his nosiness. He just answered his question calmly: “I wouldn’t say hostility per se… That guy just scares me. He has a deep hatred for authority, and that includes everyone in my family. And, while I can appreciate another anarchist, you may understand why someone like that is a bit… inconvenient to keep around…”. Tubbo nodded. He didn’t need to vocalize his understanding; he knew he was being watched. He wasn’t in a position to have an opinion in that regard, and any hesitation would have understandably counted as treason. “Unfortunately, we cannot even suggest kicking him out without my brother throwing a hissy fit about how he bought his contract fair and square. So here he stays”.

His contract…

Right. The rumors surrounding Sir Quackity weren’t just that he was a man of humble origins; some whispered that he used to be a courtesan. And a highly sought-after one at that. None of those who knew the truth dared to speak about it, so all he heard up until then were just speculations. It would have made sense for someone so well-spoken to have come from that sort of profession, as it was a skill few other peasant jobs would have taught him, but still.

However, with what the Prince had said… perhaps that was the one piece of gossip that had some veracity to it. Not that Tubbo would mention it to anyone. He wasn’t one for divulging secrets. Even if he liked indulging in some idle chatter from time to time (mainly with Ranboo, Master Dude, or Tommy).

“Understood” he answered curtly with a polite bow.

Prince Technoblade surprised him once more by gently patting his back. “Gotta give it to him though, he’s good at figuring people out. And he was right about you. You’re a good kid. Keep your head high. And keep working like you have. You’ll make a wonderful advisor to Tommy one day”.

Tubbo gave the Prince a confused look at that. “Your Highness… are you actually planning to make him your consort one day?”.

How else could he have interpreted those words?

Concubines didn’t have advisors, not officially, at least. Consorts, however, did. And, as someone who didn’t belong to the Royal Family, that was the only position that Tommy could have accessed that would have allowed him such a benefit.

So, why did the Prince look so confused and horrified at the thought?

“Of course not!” Prince Technoblade was quick to deny. “He’s a kid. He’s gonna be my heir. Isn’t that what Concubines are for anyway?”.

Oh…

Oh, he was just an idiot.

Tubbo sighed. “Yeah, something like that, Your Highness”. He was not about to explain relationships and court politics to the Crown Prince. If his family had failed him in that regard, it wasn’t his problem. He was Tommy’s aide and nothing else.

The Prince awkwardly accepted his explanation, although Tubbo had a feeling that he would be asking either his father or one of his guards some uncomfortable questions later that day.

He left soon after that.

When Ranboo came into the living room with some tea and pastries he’d managed to whip together in a hurry, the Crown Prince was already gone.

That wasn’t the last they’d be seeing of him for the foreseeable future, however, as the Blood Moon festival was fast approaching, and participation in it was mandatory for all of the main concubines of the two Princes. Tubbo both dreaded and looked forward to it in equal measures.

---

In the dead of night, as he laid onto a mattress on the ground next to Tommy’s huge canopy bed (he’d only recently managed to convince him to sleep there instead of in his den, and he knew that his charge would have escaped his room had he not kept him company) he heard a low croaky voice let out a feeble whisper: “Tubbo”. It was only one word, but it was clear, unlike all of the blond’s previous attempts at imitating human speech.

Looking up, he found light blue eyes shining at him from the darkness. They were intense and unwavering. A challenge then.

“No. Fuck off. We didn’t agree on this!” Tubbo shot back, equally as stubborn. He sat up to be on eye-level with his charge and narrowed his eyes at him. He doubted the other could see his expression with the lack of light in the room (it was a moonless night, the last one before the Blood Moon Festival that closed off the year), but he was sure that he could infer it from his tone. Tommy was a smart guy, after all. Not in a conventional way. He wasn’t a master of chess or a great speaker, but when it came to understanding others’ emotions and dealing with them, he doubted that many others in that Palace could compete with him, and whether that said more about them or his charge, he couldn’t tell. He was among those who lacked every skill in the feelings department.

Tubbo didn’t know why he felt so affronted at the idea of Tommy being able to say his name. Maybe he simply hadn’t been ready for it.

He had never been good at changing his routines.

Ever since he’d been a child, that had been one of his biggest flaws. His father reprimanded him many times for how rigid his thinking was. His mental schemes allowed him to understand the functioning of machines he saw and replicate them with ease, but it wasn’t great for innovation. It was something that he had to actively work to dismantle every day. However, it was easier for him to try to be more flexible when it came to his beloved science than when it came to people.

Humans were hard for him to understand. They were hard to navigate. And he liked it best when they behaved as he expected. When they remained in the little boxes he put them into. It was even fine for some of them to be unpredictable; he just needed to have them classified as such. After all, he knew that, with people like Sir Quackity, not expecting the unexpected would have been a grave mistake.

But that way of navigating interpersonal relationships backfired on him every time someone around him deviated from their path. When people who didn’t have a reason to do so showed him kindness, like Sir Quackity had, or when people who far outranked him treated him with respect, like Prince Technoblade and Master Dude had done. For as positive as those surprises had been, they’d still left him disoriented.

Tommy talking was nothing of that magnitude, but he wasn’t used to it. And he liked how the two of them could communicate without words. How they could understand each other with just a glance. He liked their comfortable silences. He wasn’t ready to give any of that up.

Of course, his charge, little shit that he was, only smirked, his pearly white teeth shone even in that all-encompassing darkness (how could he ever have entertained the idea that he truly was just a mere human?), and repeated his taunt: “Tubbo” he said once, and then again “Tubbo” and again “Tubbo!” he just wouldn’t stop “Tubbo! Tubbo! Tubbo!” his voice kept rising in volume until he was yelling loudly enough to wake Ranboo up.

Tubbo launched himself at Tommy, using one of his hands to cover his mouth and silence him, and wrapping his other arm around him securely so that he couldn’t easily break out of his hold while they rolled on his soft woolen sheets.

Tommy’s eyes were still locked on him throughout it all. Mirth twinkled in his irises, clear as day.

That wasn’t a challenge he was going to win by brute-forcing his way through it. He could already feel the tip of Tommy’s tongue grossly getting dragged across his palm, and it was sending unpleasant shivers down his spine. Besides, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to keep the other pinned down forever anyway. So, instead, he let his shoulders slump down, and pleaded in earnest: “Please… I just need some time”.

His charge had always been far more receptive to begging and honest requests than to orders. They didn’t ignite in him the same passion for rebellion, Tubbo supposed.

For as much as Prince Technoblade had seemed to think otherwise, he and his brother had similar tastes when it came to concubines. Granted, the relationship they sought with them was different. Tubbo wasn’t even sure that the Crown Prince knew what attraction of any kind was supposed to be after their little chat, while the Second Prince was rumored to be quite the promiscuous individual, some even said that he’d fathered a child with a merchant girl from another kingdom across the sea (though none could agree on whether that had even been a girl or a boy, so he didn’t know how much he could trust those rumors), so, from that point of view, they were diametrically opposed. And yet they’d both gravitated toward stubborn and defiant troublemakers of lowly birth as their favorite concubines. That had to count for something.

As expected, Tommy mellowed out when he realized that the fight was over and that Tubbo was genuinely upset. He raised up his hands and used them to cup Tubbo’s cheeks. It was a gentle hold, but still, when the blond tugged him down, he gave in and let their foreheads rest against each other.

Intimate touches like that were nothing new between them. Tubbo had tried at first to avoid them out of fear of the repercussions they could face had anyone spotted them, but his charge, clever as always, had picked up on his unease and had stopped attempting anything while others were around. With him at least. He still climbed any tall people he saw, which… undoubtedly was also inappropriate, but it was their burden to bear, not his. He'd always been tiny, even for his age.

It wasn’t as if he believed there to be anything actually inappropriate behind that closeness. Raised among animals as he’d been, that was likely the only kind of affection Tommy had ever known. He needed it. Sometimes, if he went too long without, he started looking unwell, distant, unfocused. He never whined about it, never complained. Tubbo got the impression that he didn’t even know he could. But it hurt him, and he didn’t want his friend to hurt.

Besides, it would have been a lie for Tubbo to say that he didn’t enjoy that closeness too. He’d never had it growing up. His father only knew how to tinker with machines and how to chug booze. He’d once been a revered man, but, when he’d lost whatever title he’d had before (Tubbo had never been allowed to ask him for details), he lost all his decency along with it. Or so he claimed. Tubbo wasn’t so sure he’d ever had any of that.

They stayed like that until Tubbo felt his body grow heavy, then he flopped down, still curled up around his charge, and allowed sleep to take him over.

They could deal with change once the morning came and lightened their burdens.

---

The help Tubbo had been promised arrived in the form of two young aides from the Obsidian Pavilion, the one Sir Quackity resided in, who the older concubine thought to be a good fit for their tiny team.

Personally, Tubbo suspected that, more than any particular potential affinity Sir Quackity had supposedly detected, the real reason behind his choice had been that he thought it would have been safer to keep all the kids together where he could more easily monitor them. Because, despite all the rumors about his hot temper and cold demeanor, it should have been obvious to anyone with eyes that the man had a soft spot for those he considered children.

Had Tubbo been any less of an opportunist, he would have been outraged at that kind of condescension. However, anything he could use to make his life simpler and free up some time for his machines was more than welcome in his books. He was almost done with a cooling system that utilized ice and spinning wooden planks to freshen up the air throughout the Ruby Pavilion, which he predicted would be a hit with plenty of outsiders, too, during the summer; he didn’t have time to waste.

So, with a bright smile, he welcomed in their new recruits (it was Ranboo’s turn to bathe Tommy, to both of their dismay, so the tour guide role fell on him).

He showed them the rooms they’d be staying in, as well as the general layout of the place, and ended their small walk in the living room, so they could have a nice chat.

The first to introduce himself was a blond boy shorter than Tommy, but taller than him, who, the entire time, had looked vaguely annoyed. “I’m Purpled” he muttered. Curt and to the point. Definitely not of noble origins then. Tubbo had noticed the tip of a blade poking out from his sleeve, another from his boot, and the outline of a third one around his left thigh. He seemed more prepared to be an assassin than a glorified cleaner, but to each their own. He doubted Quackity would have sent him over if he suspected him of being a danger to his charge. “My dumb brother got himself arrested, and I’m trying to earn enough to get him out. If you’ve got any extra jobs, I’ll take them. I can get rid of anybody at any time. Keep that in mind” because of his bluntness, his words sounded more like a threat than the offer he had clearly meant them as.

Regardless, Tubbo smiled at him and politely nodded before turning to the other boy. The youngest of them, he could not have been older than twelve. He had bright ginger hair, peculiar crimson eyes, and very sharp features. He greatly resembled the two Princes. Enough so that the though that he could be the Second Prince’s bastard son did cross his mind for a moment, though he just as quickly dismissed it since it wasn’t his business. He had no intention of getting executed for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

“Fundy” the young one introduced himself timidly. His voice was higher-pitched than Tubbo had expected. Had it not been for his uniform and his short and scruffy (almost clumsy, as if he’d done it himself) haircut, he would have been left wondering how to refer to him. Regardless, it was clear that he’d made an effort to present more masculine, so any doubts in those regards were not Tubbo’s concern. Ranboo had some shit going on, too, and he wasn’t sure Tommy actually understood the concept of gender, so it wasn’t as if it was his first time encountering that kind of situation. He didn’t fully understand it, but wasn’t that the case for most social things anyway with him? “My- my father thought it would be good for me to be around. Here. Well, not in the Ruby Pavilion, technically. I don’t think he knows about that. But, just… here. In the Palace. So… yeah. I’ll do my best!”. He sounded and looked hesitant, as if he was desperately seeking Tubbo’s approval.

Not knowing what to do with that, Tubbo just gave him a thumbs up. Which probably hadn’t been the correct move, based on how the boy’s shoulders immediately slumped down, but that was the best he had to offer.

“You’re really bad at this” Purpled deadpanned. He didn’t offer to try and reassure his younger colleague himself, however. Fucking hypocrite.

Tubbo just ignored him. “So, why were you two selected to work here by the Crown Prince and Sir Quackity?” he asked instead. Of course, he knew the answer. Prince Technoblade would have been eager to go along with all of his brother’s favorite concubine’s whims if it meant avoiding a ‘headache-inducing lecture’, as he’d described it. So he likely hadn’t been too involved in the process beyond putting his seal of approval on a piece of paper. As for Sir Quackity, well, he was still convinced of his earlier reasoning.

No, what he wanted was to see what the two boys in front of him would come up with. If they knew the truth, would they lie and prove to him that he couldn’t fully trust them? If so… well, he couldn’t afford to have untrustworthy people around his charge. His life depended on Tommy’s safety. And, even if it hadn’t, he cared about his friend and didn’t wanna put his inhuman toughness to the test.

“I suspect that it is because I have told Sir Quackity multiple times that one day I’m gonna stab him for his role in getting my dumb brother arrested. I knew the day would come when he’d get rid of me” Purpled sighed and shook his head in disappointment, as if he was the wounded party in that situation. He didn’t seem to care one bit that he’d just admitted to treason. What an odd fellow.

At least, if his motivations were as stated, Tommy would be safe from his wrath.

Tommy had never gotten anyone arrested; he didn’t even know what a prison was. Well… slight correction to that. He seemed to be convinced that any room Tubbo wasn’t in was a prison and tried repeatedly to break out of it, usually by scraping whatever surface he deemed the weakest with his nails and teeth until he was stopped or a sizable hole was formed that he could contort himself through. Most of the surfaces he’d managed to demolish were made of stone. His nails and teeth were not affected. He was a bit of a freak.

Originally, Tubbo had considered just sticking by his side at all times to avoid a repeat of the first wall incident; however, Ranboo had fairly pointed out that it wasn’t healthy for either of them to be so attached and dependent. He wasn’t happy with that revelation, but he knew it would be for the best for both of them if he sometimes kept his distance and let his other friend handle Tommy.

“I don’t think that’s what happened?” Fundy pointed out, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

Somehow, his opinion had come out as a question. There was some work to be done in regards to his self-esteem, although Tubbo hoped that it would just improve naturally with age eventually, so he didn’t have to. It wasn’t his field of expertise.

The only piece of advice he had to improve self-confidence was one a lady of the night, his father had hired one day (under the pretenses of wanting to sleep with her when, truly, he’d just wanted someone to look after Tubbo so he could get drunk and pass out in peace), had given him. She’d told him that outer appearance should reflect a version of you that is comfortable and strong. And that, one day, if he always wore that mask, he’d grow into it. Mold himself in the version he’d envisioned.

He didn’t know if it was true. He’d never had that kind of struggle himself. He knew exactly who he was, his strengths, weaknesses, and the areas where he could and couldn’t improve. He was no different from any of his other experiments. However, maybe their young buddy would find that wisdom useful. He was already doing a decent enough job with his whole hair and clothes situation after all.

“How so?” Purpled question, now confused himself.

“Well… Sir Quackity isn’t like that. He wouldn’t get rid of you or me. I think he just thought this place was safer since Sir Tommy has not made any enemies yet”. Despite being spot on, Fundy still threw Tubbo a questioning look, as if once again looking for approval.

Not wanting to fumble again, Tubbo smiled at him encouragingly and nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too”.

Purpled huffed. “Not you too! Fundy’s already biased enough as is since Sir Quackity raised him. You’d think he was his kid with how much the guy dotes on him” he rolled his eyes at that. Tubbo had a feeling that a great deal of the blond’s annoyance was due to jealousy. With the mention of his brother being in prison and the absence of any parents in the picture that could have paid back the state for whatever he’d done… it didn’t sound like he’d grown up in a particularly stable environment. It was entirely possible that one of the people who had helped put his only family behind bars had also been the first to actually provide him with a home. That was bound to leave anybody conflicted. “Dunno how he convinced you otherwise, but he’s an ass. Pure and simple” he concluded with a challenging look.

A beat of silence went by between them while Tubbo evaluated what to say.

It wasn’t as if he had a horse in that race one way or another.

Sir Quackity had been very kind to him and his charge, but, truth be told, he’d only seen the man in person a couple of times. He didn’t know him. And he wasn’t willing to go to war to defend his honor.

He was about to just shrug and concede Purpled’s point when Fundy spoke up, voice steady for the first time that day: “He’s kind. He took me in when Father decided I was a burden. He has been the only parent I’ve had. He didn’t have to do any of that. Everyone would have understood it if he didn’t want to parent another kid so soon after his own was taken, but he did. The only reason he doesn’t dote on you as much is because you’re always a prick to him, and yet you’re salty about it. Well then, stay mad” he threw a glare in Purpled’s direction (the other boy was buffering, mouth opening and closing as if trying to grasp at words that wouldn’t come, he was lost in unfamiliar territory. Tubbo hoped that feeling would give him some food for thought, because it sounded like he badly needed some introspection), before turning back to Tubbo with a defiant look. “So, what are our tasks?”.

There was a lot of history there. A lot, even the relentless rumor machine that was the Royal Palace seemed to be deaf to. But none of it was Tubbo’s problem, thankfully.

So he took the branch he’d been offered and started explaining what needed to be done, hoping that some manual labor would calm all the heated spirits and offer them all some time to think.

As he did so, however, he couldn’t stop thinking about one thing… Fundy had said that Quackity’s child had been taken, not that they had died. And, while that could have been poor wording… if he truly was twelve, then the timing would have coincided with when his father had lost it all. That surely was only a coincidence, right?

---

Taking Tommy outside of the Ruby Pavilion was a stressful endeavour, but it needed to be done. Master Ponk, the Palace’s apothecary, was reportedly surprised and mildly upset that the new concubine had yet to come in for a general checkup, as was customary. Master Dude had offered to talk to him on their behalf since the two were married (his frequent and thoughtless use of the nickname ‘Ponkie’ was a sickeningly sweet reminder of that), but Tubbo knew it would have only served to delay the inevitable.

Besides, nasty rumors had begun to circulate a while before about Tommy’s reclusive and antisocial tendencies, which, if allowed to fester, could have turned dangerous.

If everything went well that day, those would be put to rest, and they could go back to lounging around in their courtyard when the frosty winter weather allowed for it, or in front of the fireplace when it didn’t. He could see no downsides to his plans.

That day, Tommy had even been rather cooperative. He’d let Tubbo dress him up in some of Ranboo’s clothes. His friend, unlike him, must have come from a more well-off family, as he owned some embroidered silk stuff that looked like it was worth more than half the people who worked in the Outer Palace put together. And, while Tubbo wasn’t one to pry in other people’s affairs under normal circumstances, after seeing his wardrobe, he decided he’d be making an exception for Ranboo as soon as his schedule cleared up a bit.

Anyway, with a white poet shirt, some black dress pants, and Prince Technoblade’s cape on, Tommy almost looked the part. And outside of the four walls he’d never properly grown accustomed to, he also looked more relaxed and behaved more calmly. He wasn’t running around the place, crawling on all fours up some vertical walls, and hissing at anyone trying to get him down with a broom. No, he was just happily walking by Tubbo’s side, looking at every bug as if it were a work of art, and often stopping to admire some of the more peculiar rocks (or at least those he deemed as such; to Tubbo, they all looked the same).

It was nice seeing him so happy.

Although it did bring Tubbo to wonder, not for the first time, if plucking him out of the Dark Forest and leaving him to fend for himself at the Palace had been the right choice. As time passed, he again and again came to the understanding that Tommy was a wild spirit. Something ancient, maybe. Akin to an animal, but capable of human speech (he had not, in fact, stopped saying Tubbo’s name forever as he’d hoped) and behavior if he so chose. It was almost as if he was one of the Old Gods, but with his obvious youth, that clearly couldn't be the case.

As soon as those doubts would start tormenting him, Tommy would look over, smile brightly at him, and take his hand to show him whatever new discovery he’d made. Tubbo wasn’t so easily distracted, but, if even just for his friend’s sake, he let all of those attempts wash away his worries.

They were close to the apothecary’s little alcove when a group of swooning women (and maybe some men too, it was hard to see anything through all the colorful, billowing veils) stopped them in their tracks.

Tommy immediately took a step in front of Tubbo defensively, scanning the situation for any danger. Their respective roles were still not fully clear to him, but it was impossible not to soften up a bit at the obvious care, so Tubbo didn’t try to correct their positions. He did, however, do his best to peer past him into the crowd and identify the origin of their disturbance. What he ended up spotting was a couple of piercing crimson eyes full of mischief. And he was only able to do so because those red pools stared back at him, and curiosity soon overtook them.

“My my, isn’t that my brother’s concubine? And… his head aide, I’m assuming?” the Second Prince drawled, as he smoothly made his way through the crowd and toward them. He was just as thin as Tubbo remembered from his numerous public appearances. His brown, fluffy hair framed his face in a deceptively angelic way, a stark contrast from his older twin’s somewhat unnatural appearance. His mouth was curled into a smug smile, and his eyes were focused, studying them for openings even before they’d made a move. He reminded Tubbo of a fox, cunning and dangerous, even if mainly to the unfortunate hens that ended on its path.

He also reminded him of Fundy, but, once again, he refused to give that train of thought any more attention than he already had.

Tommy, who wasn’t the type to like being suddenly approached by strangers, bared his teeth and growled at the Prince, earning himself quite a few confused and outraged glances from the gaggle of lower-ranking concubines gathered there. Prince Wilbur, however, must have been the same kind of odd as his brother, because he didn’t seem threatened or confused by the display. All he did was raise his hands in a sign of surrender and take a step back, still with that infuriating smirk painted all over his face.

For some reason, Tubbo almost wished that Tommy had bitten him as a warning instead. He’d done so with Purpled a couple of times already, hard enough to get him to stop carrying weapons on him at all times, so it wasn’t as if he wasn’t willing to. And, while the Prince had done nothing outwardly aggressive, his mere presence set off all of Tubbo’s panic responses at once. He didn’t know if he was supposed to flee, freeze, or fight, but he was kinda willing to try all three in reverse order if things escalated.

But it remained as only an almost kind of wish, as it surely would have backfired on both of them.

“Techno was right, you are quite wild!” the Prince chuckled at his own observation. It was hard to tell if it was a way to defuse the mounting tension or a form of mockery. Every word that came out of his mouth sounded sarcastic. He had the exact opposite problem compared to Purpled and even Crown Prince.

Tommy, not understanding what was going on, but content enough with having gotten the immediate threat to back away a bit, turned to Tubbo. “Tubbo?” he said questioningly, as if trying to ask for directions.

Tubbo took a deep breath and counted up to ten in his mind to give himself the time to calm down and put on a mask of polite detachment.

He still hadn’t been taught how to handle the politics of the Palace. Fundy was the most adept at it among them, but his plentiful insecurities made it hard for him to assert himself while teaching them. Purpled’s hostility didn’t help. He was like that with everyone, so Tubbo at least knew he wasn’t targeting their youngest out of pettiness or jealousy, but that didn’t make that dynamic any easier for him, as the head aide, to navigate.

The best he could do when not knowing the theory was to remain alert and comb through his thoughts attentively before converting them into words, far more than he already did on a daily basis.

“I apologize for my charge’s startled response, Your Highness. We were simply heading over to see the apothecary for a routine check and weren’t expecting the road to be so busy. Sir Tommy, young as he is, isn’t quite so used to big mobs yet”. He hoped that mentioning their appointment would bring a swift end to that encounter. Especially since ‘Tubbo’ was still the only clear word his charge knew how to pronounce. If they ended up locked into a proper conversation, his status as a feral child would inevitably come out. And maybe also the fact that he wasn’t entirely human, but Tubbo was certain he could deal with that, at least. There were rumors that the Empress wasn’t fully human either, so he could use that to plead his case as to why Tommy’s oddness didn’t make him a threat.

His charge’s gaze quickly returned to Wilbur, as if awaiting his response. For once, he looked quite focused. Had Tubbo not known any better, he would have been able to fool himself into believing that he had understood what he said. Which worked wonderfully in their favor with their interlocutors, as they didn’t know Tommy one bit.

The Second Prince mulled over his words just long enough to make it seem as if he hadn’t already made up his mind about wanting to be a bother and give him the false hope that there was something he could do to prevent it. How annoyingly cruel. “I suppose then I’ll walk along with you two. With me by your side, you’ll get there in no time!” he blatantly lied. From the shit-eating grin he was wearing, he knew it too.

Thankfully, he at least dismissed his entourage.

Tubbo didn’t have anything against those who lived in the Royal Palace. Low-ranking concubines were trying to earn their keep like everyone else. And, while most of the ones who had been there did seem to have a genuine infatuation with the Prince, he didn’t doubt that they were also there to try and get acknowledged by him to be able to rise in the ranks. He admired people with such high aspirations as someone who had always lacked them. However, those same qualities that made them worthy of praise were also what made them dangerous. They were determined and cut-throat and would have undoubtedly delighted themselves in sabotaging someone as high up as Tommy in any way they could.

The world of politics was a scary place.

Life had been a lot easier as a laundry boy.

Also, a lot less interesting, but that wasn’t too big of a downside. If that had been his only reason to avoid requesting a transfer back, he would no longer have been in the Middle Ring. Unfortunately, there was a certain blond creature he’d gotten attached to, and it wasn’t Purpled, that was for certain (he didn’t dislike him either, but they hadn’t known each other long enough for any kind of emotion to settle in on his part yet).

Once their audience had dissipated, Prince Wilbur circled them once, studying them, before giving them a sharp smile and gesturing in the direction they’d been heading before the interruption. “Shall we get going?”.

Confused by his odd mannerisms, Tubbo could do nothing but nod. As inconspicuously as he could, he grabbed the sleeve of Tommy’s poet shirt closest to him and tugged on it to signal for him to walk.

After a while, the Prince broke the silence again. “Tommy seems like the taciturn type. Is that why my brother gets along with him so well?” his voice was light and airy, as if he was lost in thought. His gaze, however, hadn’t lost any of its sharpness.

All the rumors that circulated, calling the Second Prince vapid and shallow, must have been just as baseless as those calling his brother heartless. Tubbo wasn’t an expert in people, and even he could tell that it was all a mask! Prince Wilbur was, above all, a conniving man. Tubbo would not have been surprised to discover that someone like that had a propensity for games like chess.

That said, for as observant as he may have been, his statement had been so wrong that it ripped a laugh out of Tubbo. Because Tommy was anything but quiet. Since he’d learned to say Tubbo’s name, he refused to be normal about it. He repeated it at all hours of the day, although, after that first time, he refrained from doing so at night. Beyond that, he also screeched, babbled, and growled constantly. He knew how to be expressive even without making a sound, but his boisterous personality was constantly bursting at the seams.

If Prince Wilbur was a clever fox, Tommy was one of those huskies Tubbo saw merchants use sometimes when sleds were their only means of getting in and out of Snowchester. He was loud, whiny, clingy, and sort of endearing in his own way. Also surprisingly strong under all the fluff.

The Prince startled at his laugh.

“He’s… only really like this around strangers, your Highness” he explained once he’d managed to catch his breath for a moment. He refrained from adding that the brand of hostility Tommy kept displaying by showing off his sharp teeth was reserved for those he particularly distrusted. He doubted it would have gone over well.

Prince Wilbur pouted in response. It was kind of ridiculous to see a royal pull such a face. It almost managed to pull another laugh from Tubbo, but, with great effort, he swallowed it up.

“Am I a stranger?” the prince questioned, sounding genuine. Before Tubbo could respond, however, he sighed and shook his head. “I suppose that makes sense. Techno did ask me not to visit so I wouldn’t scare him off and… I guess this is the result. How disappointing. We should fix that. Tommy, come to one of my Pavilions instead! You can be like my honorary little brother! What do you say?” he concluded his enthusiastic speech by offering Tommy his hand, presumably so they could shake on it.

Before Tubbo could do anything to stop the events that he could see unfolding from a thousand blocks away, Tommy had already sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of the Prince’s hand. He thankfully didn’t tighten his jaw enough to break bone, not even to pierce straight through the parts without. It was a warning. But he doubted that the Emperor would give them enough grace to listen to that explanation before executing them…

He started frantically looking around to try and figure out if there was an escape route they could take, when a startled laugh brought his attention right back to the injured Prince, who was now holding his bitten hand against his shaking chest.

For some reason, he didn’t seem upset about what had happened. On the contrary, he seemed both impressed and amused. Was there any normal member of the Royal Family, or were they just all platonically infatuated with the idea of taming the human-shaped equivalent of a dog with rabies?

“Fair enough, fair enough. I shouldn’t try to poach my brother’s only concubine. That was rude of me” Prince Wilbur conceded, taking a step back and, once again, raising his hands in surrender. Tommy licked his teeth clean of the blood before grimacing and quickly turning around to spit on the ground. That, for some weird fucking reason, upset the Prince more than the attack. He once again pouted about it. What a guy. What an odd fucking guy! He bounced back to his usual sickeningly happy self rather quickly that time around, though. “Well, it looks like now I have an even better reason to accompany you two!” he declared. "I shouldn't let my hand go unchecked". 

That day was gonna be a long one…

Tubbo was not looking forward to it.

---

The Blood Moon’s festival was a three-day event that marked the end of the year.

It was tied to The Blood God, one of the ancient ones that was said to have blessed the Royal Family’s ancestors and to be the reason for their peculiar crimson eyes. Most likely, that was nothing but an unfounded rumor. And with the current Empress coming from a long line of Lady Death’s High Priestesses, there were even talks of their rulers wanting to rework that founding myth to fit both Gods in.

Still, even without holding any belief in those stories steeped in supernatural elements, Tubbo would have been lying if he said that he didn’t look forward to the festival every time.

As a laundry boy, he only received one day free to enjoy the festivities, the very last one. And every time he’d delighted himself in looking through rows and rows of stalls, shelling their insanely expensive cosmetic products, bragging about their latest discoveries and innovations, and showing off the quite frankly delicious-looking foreign food, only to end up once again just buying the cheapest warm beverage he could find to stave off the biting cold of the frosty winter air.

It was great!

That year, he had a few more responsibilities.

Technically, concubines were invited to participate in all three days of festivities, but only the last one was mandatory, and, knowing how easily Tommy grew overwhelmed, Tubbo decided to keep their Pavilion’s participation to the bare minimum. And, even then, it took him days of preparation to give them any hope of the final ceremony going by without a hitch.

The festival concluded with a spectacle of dancing and singing, followed by a speech from the Emperor himself. As said speech began, it was customary for new concubines to humbly request the Emperor’s blessing. It was a highly coveted thing, as it ensured an actual chance for that concubine to make it to the role of Consort. Now, while that wasn’t in the cards for Tommy regardless, since the Crown Prince had made it clear that he only saw him as an eventual heir, a blessing would have meant that they had less to worry about in terms of being kicked out if the feral dumbass bit someone who wasn’t as nonchalant about it as the two Princes.

It wasn’t an easily obtainable thing, however.

The current Emperor was far stricter with it than any of his predecessors. If Tubbo had to hazard a guess, it was because that entire family was made of incredibly clingy people. Regardless, it wasn’t unusual for him to turn even well-off concubines from good families away. Unsurprisingly, he’d even refused Sir Quackity his blessing at first, although that man always managed to get his way somehow. He could only assume that to get that decision reversed, Prince Wilbur had to do a lot of whining and begging. It must not have been a pretty scene.

Taking all of that into account, he knew they needed to go in with a plan.

Before the festival, he’d sent Fundy to find them some appropriate clothing to put Tommy into (it was clear from everything he’d told them that his father was someone high up, and, even ignoring that piece of information, Sir Quackity couldn’t say no to his puppy dog eyes). He also made sure to add that, despite their difference in heights, the clothes had to fit him as well. Seeing him wear them was the easiest way to get his charge on board with letting them dress him up in those, and they didn’t have enough time to go with another strategy.

The youngest of them returned victorious with a fiery red tunic with golden spider lilies embroidered across its midsection. The sleeves of it were long and flowy, and when Tommy moved them around, the strands of gold interwoven across the fabric sparkled. It looked magical. And could be used as entertainment or as a weapon if his charge got bored or randomly deemed someone a threat. It was perfect.

Purpled, meanwhile, helped him put together some metal, coal, and cloth contraptions to help keep them warm during the long evening they were to face. Apparently, whoever kept supplying him with knives also knew how to get their hands on some raw iron, so that was neat.

Lastly, Ranboo was put in charge of smiling and doing their best, and they did a wonderful job of that. When Tubbo had asked that of them, they’d initially taken it as an insult. But, truly, he was only playing to their strengths. He knew they’d struggle to remember about the festival consistently, so they weren’t as anxious about it as everyone else was. And having one person keep their cool throughout the preparations helped them all to keep their morale high. It also helped Tommy, who was perceptive as Hell and often mirrored other people’s emotions, to remain centered and carefree.

When the last day of the festival finally arrived, they were as ready for it as they could be.

Tommy was downright giddy when exploring the food stalls. He inhaled everything they bought for him so fast that Tubbo couldn’t even test a speck of it for poison. And he knew that some of those dishes hadn’t been safe. He could tell from the way some of the stall owners studied his charge, waiting for a sign of something happening, only to end up severely disappointed when he was just fine. Which was great and all, Tubbo couldn’t say he was mad about Tommy being seemingly immune to poisons of all kinds, but he’d worked hard on developing a portable version of his poison detection machine, and he wanted to use it!

His charge must have picked up on his grumpiness after a few stalls, because, after sniffing the food, he started handing over to him, as well as his other three aides, anything he deemed safe. Which wasn’t as fun as having some gnarly, poisonous mushroom to study, but it did allow him to test out his invention, at least. So he made sure to reward that behavior with some pats to the head.

They had a minor hiccup when the fireworks that marked the closure of the market section went off, but nothing major. Tommy just hid himself up a tree and dragged Tubbo with him. His ears were quite sensitive, it seemed. Though he calmed down once he realized that neither of them was hurt nor in immediate danger. He did let out a stream of high-pitched and whiny: “Tubbo… Tubbo… Tubbo…” but Tubbo didn’t mind. Not after a scare like that. He just wrapped his arms around him and waited until they’d both stopped trembling.

Purpled’s deadpan: “Do I need to grab a broom?” was enough to get them down from their leafy cocoon, however. That guy really needed to learn how to relax. It was a miracle that he hadn’t somehow landed himself in prison right alongside his brother.

Not that Tubbo knew how that had happened. Purpled was very guarded, just like him. He didn’t easily divulge anything too personal, unlike Ranboo or even Fundy, to a lesser extent, had a habit of doing. The two of them were pretty similar on that front.

Although in Tubbo’s case, the main reason why he came off as private was that there truly was nothing noteworthy in his past. Nothing he was willing to look into, at least.

The moon was shining full, bright, and bloody up in the sky when the closing ceremony began.

Concubines, guards, workers from all around the palace, they were all gathered there to watch. Tubbo had never stuck around for that part of the festivities before. It had never interested him. But, even with his lack of experience, he could tell that the atmosphere that year was one of unique trepidation. There were eyes on their little group. A lot of them. That was the first opportunity for many to see the Crown Prince’s first and only concubine, and in his showy garments Tommy had certainly piqued their interest.

Not that he was aware of that. Tommy was too mesmerized by the movements of the dancers that flew around the bonfire like moths flirting with deadly flames to pay them any mind.

It was for the best.

Even if they didn’t end up receiving the Emperor’s blessing later, at least if Tommy enjoyed himself that night hadn’t been a complete waste. Their effort wasn’t for nothing. And Tubbo found that the idea of someone he cared a fair deal about being so happy, even if just for a day, was enough for him to feel content.

How odd.

Was that how his charge felt all the time? Was that how it felt to reflect someone’s happiness back at them? Was it empathy? Something else?

Tubbo wasn’t an expert in humanity, but he decided that he liked that aspect of it.

Once the dancers and singers had left the stage, the Emperor rose from his gaudy golden throne, his Consort following right along (she towered above him in height, as did both of his sons, and Tubbo couldn’t believe he’d never known that their ruler was also a short king. People around the Palace liked gossiping about everything but what actually mattered, how disappointing). They were both dressed in the light blues and whites of the Antarctic Empire, as was Prince Wilbur, although their makeup matched the blood red of the Crown Prince’s attire and that of the decorations for the festivities. Even such a simple touch showed their power. Blue dye was obtained exclusively from lapis lazuli, a rare and expensive stone, while the shade of red they used needed ample work to render safe since it came from the highly radioactive redstone. Even compared to the high-ranking concubines from wealthy backgrounds, they were in a league all of their own. It was no wonder so many seemed to be envious of Tommy’s position. Getting the favor of a family like that could change not only their lives, but also those of all of their descendants.

Although personally, Tubbo still saw it as too much work.

Why bother himself with politics when he could just hang out with his feral friend and build whatever his mind concocted?

The Emperor called to the stage one by one all the new concubines of Prince Wilbur, all of whom were denied his blessing. They were crushed, although the man whose attention they were vying for seemed bored if anything. Tubbo caught him yawning a couple of times. Was he only in it for the attention? Did he even care who it came from, unless it was from Sir Quackity (who didn’t even reciprocate his interest)?

Finally, after all the others, there was a small yet heavy pause. The Emperor’s icy blue eyes (the first of that color in their dynasty) searched the crowd and eventually locked in on their small group. He noticed the way Ranboo cowered, gaze lowered to the ground, the way Fundy hid slightly behind him, and the way Purpled squared up his shoulders and tightened his jaw. They were scared.

It took him a moment longer to notice the frantic beating of his own heart or how tightly he was squeezing Tommy’s hand.

So that was the presence of an Emperor.

And Prince Technoblade thought that Tommy of all people could one day match it? He was strong and he was a fighter, that was for certain, but he’d never been that intimidating! Not even when they’d first met.

“Tommy, you can come up” the Emperor ordered. It was supposed to be a mere invite, but it sure didn’t sound like one…

Tommy, of course, didn’t move. He just turned to give Tubbo a look that was in equal parts confused and amused. Unlike he had upon meeting Prince Wilbur for the first time, he didn’t seem to register the man in front of them as a threat.

Because of that surprisingly calm reaction, Tubbo was compelled to give the Emperor another look-over. He was short, sure, and his eyes had more of a natural color, which, he supposed, could read as less other and terrifying than the bright crimson of his children, but he was still imposing. Although… looking at him more attentively, Tubbo noticed the way his fingers interlocked with those of the Empress underneath his robes. And the way he kept ever-so-subtly shifting his weight between his feet. As more of those little signs of discomfort became apparent to him, he realized that the reason why his eyes were so narrowed was probably because the old man was blind and annoyed about whatever upcoming headache he’d have to face after not wearing any glasses the whole evening. Someone of his status would have had easy access to those, but he doubted he’d want to show off one of his weaknesses in such an obvious way.

That said, that gave him an idea.

Still holding Tommy’s hand, he nudged him forward.

Head aides weren’t meant to follow their charges up on the stage, but one glare from the Crown Prince and another from Sir Quackity were enough to kill off all the murmurs before they could become a problem. Once they were close enough to bow down for the blessing, Tubbo spoke up in the quietest whisper he could manage before the Emperor could dismiss them: “Your Majesty, if you give my charge your blessing, I could provide you with lenses that do not require any outside apparatus to allow you to see clearly”.

His words were followed by a long silence.

Tubbo counted to ten before lifting his eyes just enough to see what in the Old Gods’ name was going on.

Immediately, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that, while Tommy had followed him down into a kneeling position, he hadn’t lowered his head at all and was still making a big show of looking between him and the Emperor with an amused expression. It was better than he expected but worse than he hoped. Still probably salvageable, however. At least based on the fact that both Princes were making an effort to get him to notice them so that they could wave at him. It was like watching two kids fight for the attention of their family pet. Tubbo almost felt offended on his charge’s behalf. Though he didn’t seem to have noticed their attempts or to cared about them.

After that, he noticed the way the Emperor and his Consort were glancing at each other, as if busy having a silent conversation. How they managed to do so when the Empress' face was entirely concealed by a blood red veil, he didn’t know. Maybe that was a side effect of marriage. He kind of wished that he and Tommy could have had that kind of telepathy. Maybe that was something to consider for when his charge actually did become the official heir of the Crown Prince, if it ever happened.

For the time being, he lowered his gaze once more and waited patiently.

“Tommy, you have earned my blessing”. The Emperor touched both of their shoulders, signaling for them to get up. Then, once their faces were closer, he added in a whisper: “You both have to join me and my family for a brunch soon. My sons won’t stop talking about you two and, after that little stunt, I understand why”.

Ah.

Yes, they were all fucking weird.

With a sigh, he nodded. Sealing his and Tommy’s fate at once.

With that, their life at the Palace had properly begun.