Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cold mornings are a rarity on Epic. That is what Wilson thought as he stood upon the Great Dune, his gaze focused on the foreign construct in the distance. He never understood the meaning of such gargantuan creations, especially if they were only meant as modes of transportation. He glanced back at the castle, and even it seemed to be dwarfed by the machine ahead of him. He forgot its exact name, he had trailed when his father told him of it, but he knew that it was something simple, yet uninteresting.

Down by the machine, vehicle, whatever it would be called, he could see his father. This was the furthest he had ever seen his father from his castle, and he was about to see him much further than that. The vizier, Magnus, stood beside his father, whispering his advice as they conversed with the men from another planet.

Looking at them, they surely looked extraterrestrial. Their outfits were so simple, so boring. Greys and dull blues, which complimented the supposed leader's pale skin. There were multiple species under his orders, which Wilson knew was a shock to his father. In all honesty, he had expected such inter-special cooperation from a place called The High Council. It was one of the few things that felt right about them.

A warm wind licked at Wilson's exposed shoulder, his chest burning a little. It had been a while since he had properly expelled his flame, and he would surely be unable to once he was on the vessel.

He slid behind the Great Dune, and lowered himself to his knees in traditional Epician style. He then let out a low breath, flames emerging from his mouth and blowing in the dry desert winds. The sand beneath him grew to scorching temperatures, and he bowed his head to the ground. When he did so, the sand his head near laid upon turned to glass, a small circle soon to be covered by the sands in the whipping winds.

He stood up, re-adjusting his royal garments before climbing back up the Great Dune, and then sliding down the front. He steadied himself at the bottom, making sure his posture was proper as he approached the adults near the giant vehicle.

"I am very glad that your president is so accepting of my offer," Wilson's father said, his golden crown shining on his head. He stepped towards the leader of the High Council men and shook his hand, "It is a great honor for me to finally meet the leaders of such a powerful and great society."

"You flatter us, king," the leader laughed, his pale skin turning red in the sunlight. He wore a small face-mask over his mouth, as if he were some sort of bandit. Perhaps it was just a High Council fashion statement. "I am sure Gunnheim will be ecstatic to see you."

Wilson walked beside his father, only to be quickly ushered to the side by the vizier. Magnus stared down at the dragon prince with scorn in his bright yellow eyes, a look Wilson was all too familiar with.

"Do not interrupt your father on diplomatic time," Magnus said, then straightened out Wilson's back, "And fix that posture, will you? These are men of culture we are speaking with."

Wilson followed his orders, but internally scoffed at them. He didn't even need to look at the High Council men to tell that they were as uncultured as they came. Hell, they were even less cultured than the Lost Shades of Edward's kingdom, and those people were quite literally dead!

"I cannot wait to see your city!" Wilson's father said with an eagerness he had rarely ever heard. The last time must have been when Norm Khan of Smelthaven was able to create a proper replica of the holy sword, so that he could show off his power while still keeping the real sword safe in a horde somewhere. "What is your name, kind general?"

"Thomas," the general replied, placing his hand on the king's back and escorting him towards the large vehicle, "You know, King Greyscale-"

"You may call me Snike."

"Well," Thomas smiled, "King Snike, I am so glad to make your acquaintance. I am also glad that my men were right. You are a much nicer man than your father."

"Oh, but of course!" Snike laughed heartily, something that Wilson had once again only heard in rarity, "Tecton was a cruel, vindictive man. Unfit to rule one kingdom, let alone three!"

"And do you think you could rule three kingdoms?"

"Oh no!" Snike laughed again, "Dromoka would kill me if I didn't give her at least one of them!"

"She is your sister, no?" Thomas asked, "Where does she rule, again? Carnus?"

"Carnia," Snike corrected, chuckling a little, "If there is a planet named Carnus, I know not of it!"

"Of course..." Thomas laughed along, the two of them retreating into the vessel. His men followed him inside, leaving only Wilson and the vizier outside in the scorched sands.

Wilson waited for Magnus to speak, but when the vizier refused to, the prince simply began by following the others. The whole time he walked, he felt Magnus's eyes on his back, as he always did. It was only when he entered the vehicle, a sign labeling it as the S.S. HERMANIC, that he could sit back, buckle into one of the many large cushioned seats, and relax.

Wilson let out a small breath as he laid back in his seat, the scales on his exposed shoulder pricking up in the cold, ventilated air. One of the men on the ship noticed his discomfort, offering to bring him a blanket. He declined, simply assuring them that his internal heat could keep him warm enough.

It was a strange feeling, lifting off. Being so far above the ground while still laying his feet on a cold, metal floor. Wilson shivered, not from the cold, but the unfamiliarity. This was definitely the furthest he had been from the castle, but he was the one who insisted on joining his father on this trip, to learn more about being a diplomat.

In reality, he didn't care about policy, or even the High Council. He just wanted to spend more time with his father. A simple goal, but one that Magnus's mere presence threatened to make twice as hard as it should've been. The prince knew well why his father had Magnus, but still wished eternally for the vizier's exile from the Great Desert Kingdom of Dorado.

Those would be worries for tomorrow though, as the dragon prince could quickly feel a drowsiness overtake him. All he could do now was dream of the planet that awaited him, the grandiose, sprawling city he had only heard of in fairy tales.

Chapter Text

Capital City was a dredge heap. At least, that's what Nami thought as he stared at the overflowing dumpster outside of his bedroom window. His father hummed to himself as he prepared coffee in the other room, though Nami himself really should have been doing it.

Nami sighed, glancing down at his notebook with weary eyes. His pinkish skin looked redder than usual, and his wrist ached. The shower had been far too cold for him the past few weeks, so he must've smelled like a zoo at that point. Past his hand was his numerous doodles, which were really nothing special.

"Son?" his father knocked on the door, then opened it, "Coffee's ready."

"Can you bring it in here?" Nami asked, though it pained him to do so, "Please?"

"No problem," his father smiled, the tar covering his skull shining in the dull light of the bedroom.

It was always funny to him, his father's name. Tar Bones. Quite literally just a description of the man himself. Meanwhile he was stuck with the name Nami Bones, which his friends had no issue constantly teasing him about.

"Here ya go," Tar said, placing the coffee beside Nami's arm. He then reached over and grabbed his son's notebook, adjusting it in the light and smiling a little. "These are real pretty, you know! Maybe you should sell these..."

"Dad," Nami chuckled, snatching back for the notebook. It stayed stuck in Tar's tar-covered hands, though thankfully their magical property prevented any tar from actually ruining the book.

"What?" Tar smiled wider, pointing to a drawing of a lanky green lizard man, "Look at this lovely drawing you did of Walle! I bet he'd love to see this!"

"Eh," Nami shrugged, "Walle's always too busy writing stuff and coding and hanging out with Mona and Silk and whatever..."

"Hmm..." Tar placed Nami's notebook back in front of him, "Well, you keep drawing then. Maybe, you can make one of me?"

"Yeah, sure dad," Nami said, smiling a little, "I'll get right on it."

"That's my boy," Tar laughed a little, his teeth clacking together, "I love you!"

"Love you too," Nami said, before his father shut the door. He sighed again, slumping back in his chair and quietly sipping his coffee. It was really sweet, but he liked it like that, teeth be damned.

Nami blew a small raspberry as he spun in his chair, trying to properly synchronize his spin with that of the ceiling fan above him. Maybe one day he could get it exact, but not today. He took a final sip of his coffee, stood out of his seat, and climbed out of his window and onto the fire escape.

He was just going out to Plaza Park to clear his head, which he usually did most days. He knew his father wasn't going to worry, but he still felt a little bad about at least not leaving a note. He shook his head, already nearing the park.

It was a quaint little park, surrounded by restaurants and food carts aplenty. It was honestly mystifying, and the quality of the lake water in the dead center was almost too good to be true. He couldn't drink it of course, but it did support life.

Sadly, there was rarely ever anybody else there. Just Nami, sitting all alone with his thoughts. It perplexed him, with how beautiful the park was. And it was right in the center of the booming restaurant district. Maybe people were just too busy getting food, or maybe he wasn't paying enough attention to his surroundings.

 As if summoned by his thoughts, a small shadowy figure appeared beside him, then sat down on a park bench. She smirked a little as she looked up at him, her glowing white eyes peeking out from behind her flowing, shadowy cloak.

"Still no hotties here, huh?" she asked, always seeming to know exactly what he was thinking. That, and how best to get under his skin.

"Shut it, Eve," Nami frowned, staring out at the crystal blue water of the lake, "I swear we do this every single day."

"Single is right," Eve chuckled, laying her back on the bench and kicking her legs up. She was translucent in the midday sun, her body seeming ephemeral and fragile. "Look, Nami. You ain't gonna find yourself some hot girl, or hot dude for that matter, if you never fucking talk to people."

"And I keep telling you, Eve," he said her name with the same scorn as a disappointed parent, "I don't wanna just date any old hot person. I'm looking for love, true love."

"Neeeeeerd!!" Eve laughed, nearly falling off of the park bench. She then righted herself, and stood right in front of him. "You know, maybe we could go out together sometime~"

"I know you're ace," he scoffed, lightly pushing her away.

"That don't mean I can't be in a relationship!"

"Yeah, but it do mean- I mean does mean I'm not interested!"

"Your loss..." she sneered, venom in her voice, "Horny bastard."

"By the Truthmaker," Nami groaned, "Why don't you ever just leave me alone-"

Turning back to her, she had vanished. Nami rubbed his eyes, but it was no trick of the light. He looked down at his shadow, but there were no signs she was hiding in there. He sighed to himself and looked back out at the lake, his hands held by his chin.

He looked down at his hands, his eyes peering incessantly into every single minute detail. Everything he could use to hate himself more. His skin was too pink. His hands weren't smooth enough. His hair was too greasy. His teeth were gunked up, and he hadn't brushed them in days. It wasn't his fault the water went out two days ago. It wasn't his fault he couldn't shower. Despite that, he still felt filthy as he gazed at the perfectly clear lake, wishing that he could bathe in it, clean himself of his filth.

He stood there, staring at the lake for a good few minutes before he could feel a pair of eyes on him. Turning around, it wasn't anybody he knew. Just some old lady staring at him, probably wondering why he was standing in the middle of the lakeside path and just staring off into the distance. He coughed a little, chuckling nervously as he stepped out of the woman's way.

Sighing, he turned back to home. Today was just as unremarkable as any other day. Tomorrow would be as well. And then the day after that, and the day after that. Maybe he could escape before the monotony crushed him, maybe he couldn't.

All he knew was that he was lonely, and that it was somehow his fault.

Chapter Text

It was even colder on Arcane than Wilson would have ever thought. The thermometer on the space ship--he had asked one of the High Council men for the name--read a chilling 10 degrees Celsius. His body was equipped for it, his internal flame working like an internal heating system, but it still took a while for that heat to reach his scales.

There was absolutely no wind as the royals stepped out of the ship, which the king seemed to revel in. He looked back at his son and grabbed him by the shoulder, pointing his arm out to the spaceport surrounding them.

"Look at this, son!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder, "So much technology, so much metal! Norm Khan would have a field day!"

Wilson just nodded, then straightened his posture when he noticed Magnus glaring at him. He let out a small breath, a spark of flame escaping his mouth. His father smiled, patting him on the back before joining back with Thomas and asking him for directions. Wilson just stood there, breathless, as he heard them converse.

Magnus walked up from behind him, his cold hand placed on the prince's shoulder. For the only warm-blooded animal in the Great Desert Kingdom of Dorado, he always seemed to be chilly.

"This truly is a beautiful place," he said with a genuine tone Wilson had never heard before. He was always used to sarcasm from the vizier. That, or cold indifference. "Maybe we could find you a beautiful bride here, as none of the Doradan people seem to catch your fancy."

Maybe I just don't want to get married right now, Wilson thought, but dared not say. He instead just nodded again, allowing the vizier to push him forward to join his father, who was now following Thomas into a long, black automobile.

"Quite the impressive vehicle!" Snike smiled like a child, his hands raking across the leather seats, "And it's so long... so large!"

"You'll find that most things in this city are large," Thomas smirked, then turned back towards the driver, "They're all here, you can get moving!"

The car revved to life, slowly leaving the spaceport and joining the highway towards the gigantic city. The spaceport was about ten miles away, but the city was so gargantuan that looking at it, they seemed only mere feet away.

Wilson gazed up at the sprawling skyline with stars in his eyes. It was even grander than the castle, though decidedly less gold. Perhaps they didn't have that resource there, instead having that ugly grey metal that everybody seemed to carry on them. He glanced out the window at the other cars, mystified by just how many they drove by. The production must be even greater than that of Norm, the Doradan Smiths, and even the personal tailors of the Shogun if they could get so many cars out so quickly.

"As you can see," Thomas said, pointing to the city in the distance, "That is Capital City. As long as you are within its borders, you will be our esteemed guests. We already have planned tours for you, but if you wish to simply journey the city on your own you may. Perhaps your son here would even like to see our many restaurants..."

"He is a growing boy!" Snike laughed heartily, the remark making Wilson blush and retreat into his robe. Magnus just lightly slapped him on the back, commanding him to sit back up. The king didn't seem to notice this, being too preoccupied with Thomas. "Where will we be staying, by the way? A castle? No no, you people have... what do you call them?"

"Mansions?" Thomas chuckled.

"Yes!" Snike nodded, "Will we be staying in a mansion?"

"Not exactly, but close," Thomas explained, "You see, we don't actually have many mansions. Those take up too much real estate. The only guy who owns any is Grubbington I, and you'll get to meet him real soon. Instead we have penthouses, which are like mansions but a bit smaller and on the very tops of buildings."

"So we'll be able to look down at the beautiful city?" Snike asked, then immediately said, "Count us in!"

"Well, good," Thomas chuckled, "We didn't exactly have a second option."

"Isn't that lucky then?" Snike looked back to Wilson, his expression calming a little, "So, son. What do you think? What do you want to see in the big city?"

Wilson tried to speak, but stopped when he felt Magnus's hand on his shoulder. He looked up at the vizier, then instantly looked back forward. He tried his best to smile, but wasn't sure if he looked awkward or not.

"He thinks that food is a great fit," Magnus answered for the prince, "Perhaps you can take us around some time, if you do not mind."

"Not at all..." Thomas said, but then looked over at Wilson. He then turned to Snike and whispered something into the king's ear. Snike's eyes went wide and he shook his head, whispering something back before pointing to Wilson. "Oh, I see..."

"What is it?" Magnus asked.

"Just about the prince," Thomas said, a bit of worry in his eyes as he looked at Wilson. The prince began to recoil in on himself again, feeling everybody's eyes on him. "It was nothing, really."

"That's good," Magnus said, then patted Wilson very forcefully on the back, "Isn't that good, prince?"

Wilson nodded, then adjusted his robe a bit over his shoulder. He touched at the scales on his exposed shoulder, the cold from Magnus's hand still lingering there. He shuddered a tiny bit, but nobody seemed to notice. They were too busy focussing on the city, which the limo had just entered.

Buildings went past them, gigantic structures that pierced the very heavens. Snike was enamored by them, almost falling over from trying to look all the way to their tops. Wilson, on the other hand, just felt smaller and smaller. The city was so big; it was too big. He let out a small whimper as he saw the buildings and people pass by, and thankfully Magnus could not hear him. He didn't want another lecture.

Maybe if he had his old guardian dog plush with him, but that thing had been discarded years ago. Magnus thought it was unfit for a growing king, and apparently his father agreed. So they sold it to a merchant from the kingdom of Frost Crypt. At least the plush would be used to bring some cold Frost Cryptian kid warmth, instead of being thrown in the garbage.

"And here we are," Thomas announced, seconds after the car stopped. They had stopped at an extravagant white building, which seemed to rise past the atmosphere and reach into infinity. "You will be staying here for the entirety of your stay. If you ever want to leave, please tell us so we can give you the proper personnel to protect you."

"Thank you," Snike shook the human's hand as they stepped out of the limo, "Though with my dragon strength, I don't think any bodyguards are needed!"

"Trust me," Thomas said, a smile still on his face, "The criminals of this planet are resourceful. You can never be too careful."

"That's true, sire," Magnus added, dragging Wilson along with him, "Shall we retreat to our quarters now, sir? I'm sure the prince would love to see the city from all the way in the sky."

"I'm sure he would too," Snike looked down at his son with a warm smile, "You may take him up. I just want to talk with Thomas a bit more about some things, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Magnus said, then pushed the prince forward and into the lobby of the hotel. He then let go of Wilson and started towards the elevator. Looking back for a second, the prince was trailing behind. "Come now, prince. We don't want to be too slow, now do we?"

Wilson nodded meekly, hurrying as he felt all eyes in the lobby on him. Families of all different species sat in comfy chairs, ate food off of metal plates, or haggled with the receptionist at the front desk. But all of them seemed to be staring at him, in his adorned royal robe. It was a bright green, with golden embellishments. He brought his hand up to his nose, touching the small golden nose ring. It was made of a special kind of gold, one that wouldn't melt if he so happened to breathe fire from his nose. It was a symbol of good luck, and of prosperity. Now, it simply felt like a magnet for prying eyes.

He had been the center of attention before, on quite a few occasions even, but those were with the royal advisors and chefs and guards. People who knew him since birth. Here, everybody was foreign, judging. At least, that's what his brain told him.

It was suffocating, standing by the wall of the elevator as the small number on the screen slowly counted up. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... It went on and on and on and on, making the same beeping noise each time. It eventually stopped at floor 30, but Magnus held out his arm and shook his head. The penthouse was on floor 50, a full twenty floors more. Wilson sighed as he watched two people enter the elevator, but then quickly became entranced by them.

It was a pair of two men, both of different species. One was a human, the normal High Council fare, in a black business suit and with a rigid disposition. But it was the man beside him, the man he was now talking with, that intrigued him. He looked far too unnatural, far too spiritual to be just any other human.

"So it's been more cuts?" the other man sighed, his deep cyan hair curled around his ears. He let out a small stretch, which gave Wilson a good look at the red swirly birthmarks on his cheeks. "I swear, if Carmen doesn't hire some new dudes soon he's gonna be out of business."

"Yeah," the rigid man nodded, staring directly forward as his fingers clenched around the handle of his briefcase, "It's been fine for us at the wharf, though. Business is booming, the Fantasians are friendly. Speaking of, how's the husband doing?"

Wilson could hear a small scoff from Magnus, and could tell even without looking at him that the vizier was rolling his eyes. It was a large piece of contention with him, especially ever since one of the Shogun's elite guards had come out. "At least he wasn't a royal," Magnus had said, which Snike had only nodded at.

"Oh, Gill is good," the blue-haired man chuckled, then picked a little at his teeth, "Bar's been booming too, ever since I started caring for Melly."

"I told ya," the rigid man chuckled, "He's even better than you at runnin' your own business!"

"Yeah yeah whatever," the blue-haired man smiled, "You ask him how much fun he had cleaning Melody's mess last week, then get back to me."

The door dinged, the elevator finally at floor 50. Magnus quickly grabbed the prince's arm, pulling him past the two men and out of the elevator. Looking back, Wilson could see the blue-haired man staring at the two of them, as if he had somehow recognized them. The elevator doors closed, and soon Magnus had dragged the prince to their penthouse.

He opened the door, the air-conditioned air assaulting Wilson as he sheepishly crept in and stood over by the large couch in the center of the living room. Magnus took one look at the prince and sighed, retreating up a small flight of stairs to one of the bedrooms.

And all that left was Wilson, alone in an apartment he had no familiarity with. Even his mind wasn't there, still stuck on that blue-haired man in the elevator. He said his husband owned a bar. Wilson had been drinking for a year now, he was already 17, but maybe the laws on Arcane were different. It wouldn't hurt to at least try though, would it?

Chapter Text

The door swung open with a light jingle, the bell atop it ringing throughout the store. A skinny green lizard man blinked a few times, though his eyes still stayed focused on the knife he was sharpening. It was only when Nami got to the register that the man, or more accurately kid, looked at him.

"Oh, hey Nam," Walle said, adjusting the straps on his leather armor and placing the knife in a small sheath and placed it beside him, "Don't usually see you around here. What'cha need?"

"I dunno..." Nami sighed, placing his elbow on the counter. He took a quick look around the store, though his mind wasn't really focused on his surroundings. He shook his head slightly and then turned back to the shopkeep. "By the way, how the hell are you allowed to have all of this stuff?"

"Huh?" Walle asked, "What stuff?"

"The weapons," Nami pointed to the sheathed knife, "I mean, that thing could probably cut the scales off of a draconic."

"Eh," he shrugged, "Mona and Silk convinced one of their weapon's buddies to hit me up with some contracts and permits and stuff. Oh, and by 'convinced', I mean-"

"Threatened, I know," Nami chuckled, "Good lord... how do you survive being around those two?"

"They're usually too preoccupied pissing each other off," Walle chuckled, then paused for a second. He usually did this, when he had something interesting to say. It built suspense, he thought. "Oh, and by the way... I heard that there's some Epician royals now staying here."

"In Dungeons and Games?" Nami asked, quickly glancing around the store again.

"No!" Walle groaned, "In the city! Some guys from that desert kingdom, Dorado. The king and his son."

"A king?" Nami said, "Why would a king come to the city? Why not just send an advisor?"

"Beats me," Walle shrugged, "But at least that means there's a non-zero chance that they come by here and buy some of my stuff! I mean, imagine the publicity I could get! I'd never have to worry about bills ever again!"

"You don't have to worry about bills," Nami pointed out, "You live with one of the richest families in the city."

"Well yeah, but I'm moving out soon."

"You don't have to pay bills in college."

"Fine, I won't have to worry about tuition then," Walle smirked.

"Yeah whatever..." Nami sighed, "You still going to that government school? HCU?"

"Yep," Walle nodded, then grabbed a small gemstone from under the counter and began polishing it, "It's where Mona and Silk went, and damn me to hell if my father sees me going anywhere else. Anyways, I'm good at building weapons."

"Forging fantasy weapons," Nami corrected, "Guns are a whole different beast."

"Well the Epicians still use 'fantasy' weapons!" Walle snapped back, then took a small breath, "So where are you going to for college, then?"

"I don't know," Nami shrugged, "My dad wants me to go to HCU as well, but I don't think a government job's right for me."

"What about an art school?" Walle asked, then quickly added, "I heard that High Council Art Academy has a large LGBTQ community..."

"Oh shut it," Nami groaned, then waved a small goodbye to the shopkeep, "I'm gonna go to Fantasian Seabed for a bit. See ya."

"See ya later," Walle waved, then turned back to his gemstone, "And just remember I can loan you money any time!"

"I know!" Nami said, though he never really cared. Walle was lucky enough to be adopted by a rich family. No need to spoil that with his melodramatic poor-boy issues. "Bye!"

---

The bar was packed by the time Nami got to the Seabed, though he never really sat up there anyways. He instead sat over at one of the single tables, a robotic waiter quickly coming to his service.

"How may I help you today, sir?" the robot hissed, steam pouring from his head. Apparently the bartender bought Lafayette from an old Fantasian merchant years ago, since he thought that all robots ran off of steam. Nobody knew why he kept the guy after he found out the truth, though maybe it was just because he liked the little steam-powered guy. "We have a few specials today, if you would like to ask."

Nami glanced over the menu, the same meals he ordered near everyday jumping out at him. He already knew the specials, it was cold out and a few empty apple crates sat in the alleyway beside the restaurant. He sighed, handing his menu to Lafayette and ordering the usual. A small Fish and Chips, extra tartar sauce, hold the coleslaw. It was a basic meal, but Nami never came to the Seabed for its food.

He took a hovering gaze around the restaurant, almost eager to see if there were any faces he didn't recognize. Hell, if he was lucky enough maybe even those royals from Epic would be there! He doubted it, but the Seabed did have a reputation.

Over at the bar were the regulars. The new bartender, a fish man fittingly named Gill, was apparently the husband of the old bartender, Swirly. Why Swirly was no longer there nobody had a clue, but Gill assured everybody that he was doing well. Actually sitting at the bar were the three police officers. Autumn, Chilly, and Muffs. Autumn was the skinny human with the red hair and the comfy sweater, Chilly was the snow golem who kept trying not to melt into his drink, and Muffs was the capybara with the huge fluffy ear muffs.

Sitting beside them were a few more regulars, namely the Killian Triplets. Nami never really liked them, they would always bully him and Walle back in middle school, but at least two of them seemed to be cleaning up their act. The youngest, Steven, and the oldest, William. Darius, on the other hand, was still the largest prick to ever exist. He was the middle child, and always made it everybody else's problem. He was currently ragging on Gill, his brothers holding him back as he was obviously drunk.

Nami sighed, looking over at the glass of water in front of him. Two more months and he'd be eighteen. Finally able to drink. Maybe then it'd be easier to go to parties, hang out, maybe even ask some people out. He knew alcohol could be dangerous, but the thoughts of what it could do still tantalized him. Unending confidence sounded like one hell of a drug.

"Your fish and chips, sir," Lafayette placed the dish in front of Nami and then quickly zipped away, already taking another table's order before the boy could even pick up his fork.

Nami ate his food in relative silence, still staring over at the bar. The Killians had left, same with the cops. They probably hadn't gotten arrested, but it wouldn't have been the first time if they had. Nami looked down at his half-finished meal and sighed again. He was already full, as he usually was. He never ate enough, he knew that. He didn't know how to fix it, so he never really bothered.

It was then, as he stared at his unfinished fish, that the door opened. The entire restaurant froze, the air standing completely still. Nami glanced over at the door to see what all the shock was about, only for his jaw to drop to the floor.

It was a tall dragon man in a regal robe, a kid, probably his son, standing right beside him. Flanking them was a human, even taller than the dragon, who had a very sour look on his face.

But Nami didn't focus on that man, or the king that stood in front of him. He was only captivated by the prince, who kept himself very close to his father. The grey-scaled draconic with a golden nose ring and a very timid disposition. He was regal, he was quiet.

He was beautiful.

Chapter Text

King Snike Greyscale of the Great Desert Kingdom of Dorado was a powerful man, as any historian would surely tell you. Though his age didn't breach the thousands like his father, he had done much more in his time. He had reunited his people, while also dividing his father's two other kingdoms among his siblings. He stood as the hallmark of an Epician ruler, which was why the Shogun had seen him as the perfect candidate to negotiate with the High Council. Snike didn't enjoy politics though, but the plan was simple enough.

Go to the High Council? Check. Make friends with the president? He had gotten close to the head of military, so that was pretty close. Negotiate a deal on how to deal with the decline of rainbow silver exports while also addressing the current revolution in Frost Crypt? He hadn't gotten there, but a time and place of meeting was already set.

That all being said, Snike was loving the High Council. This sprawling city of light and sound, it made him strangely nostalgic. It was just like being on the battlefield again, minus the death, despair, and all those people trying to kill him. An all around win in his eyes.

And, as the final cherry on top, his son had asked for them to go drinking together! He was getting worried for a moment, that boy sure was too quiet sometimes. Drinking together is one of the best ways for a father and son to bond, at least that's how it was on Epic.

"Bartender!" Snike proclaimed, sitting down at the bar next to a very drunk caterpillar-esque man. He laughed heartily as he pulled his son beside him, then looked across at the fish-man tending the bar. "Why, I'll be! You must be Fantasian, no?"

"And you must be Epician," the bartender smiled, placing his hands on the bar, "What'll it be, Mr. Greyscale?"

"You know-" Snike shook his head, "Of course you know me! I'm Snike Greyscale! You have any Sake?"

"Ooh, you're looking in the wrong place, I'm afraid," the bartender shook his head, "Though perhaps you would like to try my husband's specialty? It's called Fire Wine."

"Fire you say?" Snike looked over at Magnus, who had sat on the other side of the prince, "You hear that Magnus? Why did you never tell me they put fire in their drinks!?"

"It's not actual fire, sire," Magnus sighed, his expression unchanging, "And bartender, I'll just take a simple cola. Somebody has to be sober around here."

"Oh, pffft!" Snike waved his hand at Magnus, "Come now, Magnus! You know me too well to say that! When was the last time I got drunk? Actually drunk?"

"Five weeks ago," Magnus recalled, "On your sister's birthday."

"Ooooh..." the king said, "I barely remember that."

"I know."

"And for your son?" the bartender pointed down at Wilson, "I mean, I assume he's your son-"

"The same as the king," Magnus said, staring straight at the bartender, "Please."

"You sure you don't want to hear him-"

"He wants a fire wine as well," Magnus insisted, grabbing onto the prince's shoulder. He glanced down at Wilson, his eyes burning into the back of the kid's head. "Is that correct, prince?"

Wilson nodded silently, to which the bartender got to work. Snike sighed, lightly tapping Magnus's hand so he could take it off of the boy. He had hired Magnus originally to help his son with his... supposed condition. Nothing had been diagnosed, but a Greyscale as quiet as Wilson was a rarity. He wanted to not worry about it, but Wilson's silence seemed to be worsening. Perhaps Magnus was being a little too hard on the boy...

"Here ya go," the bartender said, handing them their drinks.

Wilson immediately drank some of his, a bit of wine dribbling down his neck. Magnus just scoffed, silently handing the prince a napkin as he sipped his own drink. Snike guzzled his wine down in one gulp, the liquid burning wonderfully in the back of his mouth.

"That was lovely!" Snike proclaimed, whamming his glass back onto the bar, "If you would be so kind to give me another, mister...?"

"Gill," the fish-man gave him a toothy smile, then went back to the bar and grabbed another bottle of fire wine, "And it would be my pleasure, King Greyscale."

"It's nothing, really!" Snike laughed, then turned to Magnus, "You know, I thought that once we left people would stop giving us the royal treatment!"

"Hmmm..." Magnus didn't answer, his eyes still on Wilson as he drank, "Mh-hm."

It was then that, out of the blue, Wilson shot out of his seat. He had finished his wine, but had this strangely quiet look on his face. He glanced over at Gill, then pointed at his belly.

"Oh, the bathroom?" Gill pointed to his right, over at a door with a bright red sign, "Right there. Men's is to the right."

Wilson nodded, rushing off towards the bathroom. Magnus stood up, but Snike quickly grabbed his arm and beckoned him to sit. The vizier groaned a bit, but still complied.

"Don't worry about him," Snike said, though worries of his own began circulating in his head, "You act like he is about to run away, or something."

"It's not that," Magnus said, his tone completely blank. That was the one problem Snike had with the man. He had a complete poker face at all times, and it even translated to his speech. "I am simply worried that the prince may be attacked. You never know with these people."

"Oh, don't say that!" Snike said, pointing at Gill, "I mean, look at this man! A model citizen, he is, and we wouldn't even know him if Wilson hadn't asked us to come here! The boy will be fine!"

"Fine..." Magnus said, taking another small sip of his cola.

Despite his words, the king's thoughts were wracked with worry for his son. The bar and the drinks was a nice starting point, but it didn't seem to do much. He was still as quiet, still as distant as usual. It killed Snike to see his son like this, but what was he to do? He didn't want to control the boy's life.

It had been minutes since Wilson had gone to the bathroom, and now the worries were compounding into some kind of messed up noodle platter of concern. He was just taking a while, surely...

A few more minutes passed. Ten, to be exact. Snike had forgotten when he started counting the minutes. Magnus looked over at the king, his expression still stern and unchanging.

"What is it, my lord?" he asked.

"Nothing important," Snike lied, his own thoughts grasping his neck in a choke-hold, "I may just need to go to the bathroom myself."

"Go then," Magnus sighed, "Don't let me stop you."

Snike nodded, then urgently but carefully walked to the restroom. He opened the main door to find two more ahead, one labeled WOMENS and one labeled MENS. There was a third one, peculiarly stashed to his side, which read GENDER-NEUTRAL. Why that was needed when both genders already had a bathroom, he had no clue.

The king opened the door to the men's bathroom, and was greeted by the thankful sight of nobody inside. That thankfulness quickly grew to worry though, and he began frantically checking every single stall. Nobody was inside any of them, nobody was in the entire room. Where in the hells could his son be...

Snike bolted to the gender-neutral bathroom and whipped open the door. A woman glanced at him as she walked by, though he didn't care as he quickly closed the door behind him. Instead of a group of toilets and sinks, the gender-neutral bathroom was single-person. As such, Wilson was nowhere to be found.

The king was just about to give up when he saw a window above the sink, leading out to the alleyway next door. It was creaked open the tiniest bit, and he could see a tiny green piece of robe that caught on its edge.

Snike instantly rushed back out of the bathroom, grabbed Magnus by the arm, and whammed a small bag of Epician coins on the table. He was breathless as he stared at the bartender, who just smiled a little and took the currency happily. Snike let out a small sigh of relief before running out of the restaurant, Magnus quick behind him.

Where Wilson had gone, he had no clue, but he just hoped to the spirits that his son hadn't gone too far.

Chapter Text

Nami had left the restaurant only a few minutes after the royals had entered. He honestly wanted to walk up and perhaps talk to them, but with both the king's chumminess towards Gill and that human guy's stern expression, he didn't want to chance anything. Anyways, he would probably get cold feet anyways. That kid, that prince. He must have been the same age as him, at least around it. He was so pretty.

"Thinking about a boy again?" Eve sneered, her two glowing eyes appearing in his shadow. He was currently halfway to Dough's Pastry Shop, which he regulared when he needed some time to himself. Not that he needed any more of that. "You know what happens when you think about boys, Nami..."

"You're not my mom," Nami kicked at his shadow, then let out a small sigh. His breath caught on the air, visible in the winter chill. Those draconics must have been from the desert, if he was remembering his geography correctly. How cold must they feel, being in a place over fifty degrees colder than their lowest temperatures. Except for maybe at night, but he assumed they rarely went out during that time.

"Don't matter," she insisted, lightly tapping a shadowy tendril on his foot, "You going to get some pastries? Save me a slice."

"I have fifteen dollars on me, you know that," he huffed, making his strides a bit longer, "Anyways, you don't need to eat shit."

"Why would anybody eat shit?" Eve asked, then a sickly smirk formed within Nami's shadow. He knew the exact word's she would say, but it didn't make them hurt any less. "I mean, except for a gay boy like you. Bet you love the taste of-"

"Piss off," Nami said, stomping on his shadow. Eve giggled to herself as she disappeared, leaving him alone yet again. He continued down the street, the sign of the pastry shop glowing dimly in the setting sun.

It was these moments that particularly confused Nami. Being alone was better than being stuck with Eve, but how much better he had no clue. Even bad company is company, and serene loneliness is still loneliness. At least in the shop he'd be around other people. He wouldn't interact with them, he never did, but at least that suffocating feeling would go away for a bit.

The tiny bell on the door rang as Nami pushed open the door, the large man behind the counter smiling when he saw the boy. The place wasn't packed, it rarely was after the morning donuts ran out, but there were still quite a few people there. Two friends having a simple chat. A mother and her child sharing a large cake. A conspicuous man in a robe and a wizard hat, slowly sipping a cup of coffee as a pigeon pecked at his éclair.

Then there was the aforementioned store owner, cashier, baker, just about everything. His name was Dough, and he was a portly, kind man. He was part of a species named grubs, though his appearance resembled more that of a caterpillar. He had a little bit of fluff on his chest, and carried himself much like a young boy who just got his first bit of chest hair. Masculine but silly, and never machismo.

"Hey Nami!" he said, waving the little nubs that took the place of any arms or hands he could dream of having. Somehow he was able to do everything around the shop without opposable thumbs. "You want the usual?"

"Yeah," Nami said, then clarified for good measure, "A slice of Butter Crumb and a medium Carnian iced tea."

"I'll call you when it's ready," Dough smiled, then retreated into his small kitchen in the back.

Nami sighed, smiling a little as he found himself a seat. He glanced across the shop at the man in the wizard hat, his pigeon now going ham on the éclair. He was a regular of Dough's place, but never spoke to anybody but the shopkeep. Nami felt a strange happiness looking at the man, though he didn't know exactly why.

*DING!*

The bell rang, and the world stopped. Nami could barely breathe as he stared at the man who entered the shop, his long green robe flowing behind him. Nami's heart caught in his chest, and his brain felt like it was on the verge of meltdown.

It was the prince, still carrying himself as timidly as before. His father and the advisor were no longer with him, but he seemed sure that this was where he should be. Well, as sure as somebody shaking more than an earthquake could be, at least.

"Nami!" Dough called out, bringing the cake and the drink to the counter, "Here you- Oh!"

Nami stood up silently and walked over to the counter. The prince stared at him, and his body began to overheat. His face was even prettier so close, his nose ring even shinier...

"That'll be 10.52," Dough said, pressing a button on the register. He then turned to the prince, a smile on his face. "I'll get your order in a second. Very nice robe, by the way."

The prince didn't say anything, just nodding and blushing a little. Oh how cute that blush was. A dusting of pink on his dark grey cheeks. Nami held out his hand to Dough, who grabbed his money and handed him the change back. As always, Nami dumped all of the coins into the tip jar and kept the leftover four dollars. He didn't move back to his seat, though. His eyes were still on the prince.

"What would you like, sir?" Dough asked. The prince didn't answer, only gesturing towards the menu. He pointed at one of the pastries, an Epician tart. "You're Epician? No problem, sir. Or do you just want that?"

The prince nodded, paused, and then nodded again. Dough chuckled, which caused the boy to blush again. The grub then went into the display he kept the cold pastries in and grabbed one of the tarts. He placed it delicately on a paper plate and handed it to the boy.

"That will be five dollars," Dough said, then added, "Or two Doradan coins, if you have those."

The prince nodded again, handing the coins to Dough and walking over to one of the chairs. The seat right across the table from where Nami was sitting. Nami gulped a little, bringing his own food and drink and sitting across from the prince. He stayed unnoticed for a bit, until the prince raised his head and they locked eyes.

"Uhh... hi," Nami said, his mind already escaping him, "I'm Nami."

The prince didn't answer, simply staring at Nami as he took a bite of his tart. A bit of fruit fell down his chin, and it took all the willpower in Nami's body to not wipe it up for him. The prince paused for a bit, then coughed. A small spurt of flame burst from his nose, brushing against Nami's cheek.

"Sorry," the prince said, his voice much softer than Nami thought it would be, "I am Wilson."

"Wilson..." Nami said, trying not to sound as desperate as possible, "That's a nice name."

"Nami is nice name too," Wilson said, then paused, "Ah, sorry. My father is fluent in the language but I am not. I am good, but not as good. It is hard learning new language, you know?"

"I know," Nami nodded, despite the fact that he had no goddamn clue what that was like, "And you don't have to be sorry. I get it."

"That is good of you," Wilson said, then took another bite of his tart. He then glanced over at Nami's iced tea and pointed at it. "Will you be drinking that? I am not letting food waste."

"Oh!" Nami blushed, quickly taking a sip of his tea, "Y-Yeah. I could uhh..."

Don't say that. That's cheesy as fuck. Stop before you say something stupid.

"I could share this cake though."

God dammit!

"What cake is it?" Wilson asked, digging a claw into the cake and taking a bite. Nami stared at the draconic, his fork falling out of his hand. Wilson blushed, quickly wiping his claw with a napkin. "Sorry, I did not know you used utensils. In the Great Desert Kingdom of Dorado, we eat with our claws."

"That's fine," Nami said, his breath caught in his throat. There was just something about this dragon man, scales covering his body and teeth sharp enough to rip Nami's face off. Somehow, Nami found him absolutely adorable. "I'm partial to it. Butter Crumb isn't that messy."

"It is good," Wilson said, taking another chunk with his claw. He then looked down at his nearly finished tart and pushed it across the table. "Would you like a taste?"

"Nah," Nami said, "I'm not a huge fan of fruit."

Despite the fact you are one.

"Is this common?" Wilson asked, causing Nami to have a mini heart attack.

"What? Is something wrong?" Nami asked frantically, "I don't see anything wrong!"

"Oh, okay," Wilson said, "I was just wondering a question. Are all High Council people so inviting? There are few places on Epic strangers can sit at a table and make conversation."

"Oh, umm..." Nami's face was a bright pink at this point, "Not everybody is really up for that. I guess I'm just one of the kind ones, heh..."

"Well, you are very kind then," Wilson smiled, his teeth covered in a mixture of crumbs and mashed fruits. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then pointed again at Nami's iced tea. "I am very sorry, but can I have a drink? Magnus would not be happy of me spending more money than I have to."

"Y-Yeah, sure," Nami was shivering as he passed the drink to Wilson, "It's no problem-"

Nami froze, his heart leaping into his throat. He watched in some kind of trance as Wilson drank his iced tea, a bit of the drink dribbling down the corners of the draconic's mouth. He was so cute when he drank, and he made the most mystifying little noises...

"Ahhh..." Wilson said, handing the drink back to Nami. The prince had drank over half of its contents, but Nami really didn't care. "I am glad to speak with you, Nami."

"No problem," Nami said, taking a sip of his iced tea. God, they were sharing a drink. Wilson's mouth was just on that straw. That's like only two steps away from actually kissing.

Wow, I really am that pathetic.

"Uhm," Nami said, trying to drown out the voice in his head, "You wanna go somewhere else? There's this really nice park-"

"Prince Greyscale!"

Nami jolted, nearly jumping back in his seat. He didn't even have to look behind him to see the human advisor, the voice fit the ugly mug perfectly. Wilson's eyes seemed to dilate when he looked to see the man, more in defeat than fear.

"I can't believe you, running off like that! Your father is worried sick!" Magnus barked, all eyes in the shop now on him. He grabbed Wilson by the arm and pulled him from the table, only to turn back and glare at Nami. "And who might you be?"

"N-Nami Bones, sir," Nami said, suddenly super conscious of his appearance. He was suddenly too short, too pink. Probably too dirty. "He is a prince? You never told me tha-"

"Do not lie," Magnus scoffed, pushing Wilson forward and out of the shop, "I saw you in that restaurant. So, you lured the prince away? What did you use, the promise of a good time!?"

"N-No..." Nami could feel tears begin to seep out of his eyes. He didn't even know this man, he shouldn't be this affected by this. "I-I'm sorry sir but-"

"No excuses," Magnus said, then left for the door. Before whamming it shut, he stared directly at Nami, then paced his gaze around the shop. "Stay away from the prince, all of you!"

He slammed the door behind him so hard that Nami swore the glass would shatter. His eyes were red, his hands shook. He could barely see Dough looking worriedly at him, but he got out of his seat and left the shop before the grub could walk over. He stamped his feet as he walked back home, his head screaming at him.

I had it... I finally had it. He's cute, kind, strong.

"What is it now?" Eve appeared in his shadow, only to stop when she saw him crying, "Oh damn, what happened?"

"You know what happened!" Nami shouted, then took a deep breath, "I can't believe it..."

"So you're gonna give up?"

"What?"

"So you're gonna give up," Eve said, her pure white eyes unblinking, "You found the boy of your dreams, and now you're gonna give up because some head-ass said you couldn't be with him."

"I don't even know if he likes me," Nami sniffled.

"You never asked," Eve said, then appeared right next to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, her shadowy fingers nearly freezing his arm. "You are such a pussy sometimes, you know that?"

"Shut up..." Nami said.

"I will when you get some of that draconic boy-pussy," Eve said, then just barely ducked the slap in the face Nami sent her way, "And it seems that is my call to leave! See you later, gay boy..."

Then, just as she always did, she vanished. Nami sighed, opening the door to the apartment complex and walking up to his apartment. His dad was out, working his janitorial job for the government. Maybe today he could finally get that raise he's been asking for.

Nami fell onto his bed, pulled out his notebook, and began drawing. Sketches of the draconic prince. The beautiful, grey-scaled boy from the pastry shop. With his gold nose ring that glistened in the light and green robe that reminded Nami of the vibrant trees at the park. At the top of the page, he wrote his name:

WILSON

Right below it, in text so small his father couldn't read it, he then wrote:

I love you.

Chapter Text

Wilson didn't wake up until late the next morning. In doing so, he missed the morning meeting with some High Councilmen his father had set up. While the king didn't care, and let the boy sleep, he was scolded harshly by Magnus once he had woken up. Thankfully, there was another meeting set for around noon, where the royal family would meet with that Thomas man and make deals over lunch.

Magnus tried his hardest to get the prince ready as quickly as possible, while Wilson simply let himself get carried around by the vizier. This is how it was like most of the time, Magnus doing all of Wilson's work for him. Even down to picking out his clothes, but thankfully one of the few things he agreed with Magnus on was clothing choice.

It was still cold when they got to the mansion, a large group of High Councilmen sitting at a large plastic table outside with an old grub man sitting at the head. Seeing him reminded Wilson of that kind man from the pastry shop, but he made sure to keep that thought from mind. They were waved over, and his father quickly made conversation with Thomas.

"An exquisite place you have here!" Snike commended Thomas, looking back in awe at the gigantic mansion, "This is your mansion, correct?"

"Oh, this?" Thomas laughed loudly, "Not at all! This mansion is owned by Grubbington I, that kind man over there."

He pointed to the old grub at the head of the table, who was currently wolfing down on a hash brown. He quickly wiped his mouth and waved to the king, who just laughed and waved back.

"Wave to the man, prince," Magnus whispered to Wilson.

Wilson waved at the old man, who's eye caught onto him. The old grub stared at him for a second before pulling a small remote from his pocket and pressing a button on it. From the mansion came a lumbering robot, arms wider than Wilson's body and height twice his own.

"Punch," Grubbington said, his voice a bit raspy, "Could you please ask the prince here what he may like?"

"That is unnecessary," Magnus insisted, "The prince isn't mute or anything-"

"Punch!" Grubbington repeated, completely disregarding Magnus, "If you could be a dear and ask the prince what he would like, that would be nice."

The robot nodded, then turned down to Wilson. The dragon prince's eyes instantly drifted to the robot's fists, and he quickly realized why the automaton was named Punch. The robot then raised his hand, only to pat Wilson on the head.

"What would you like, young sir?" Punch said in a voice much more sophisticated than Wilson expected, "Perhaps some juice, lemonade, or perhaps a seasonal eggnog? Master Fruit loves eggnog."

"A..." Wilson looked over at his father, who was still deep in conversation with Thomas. He then glanced over at Magnus, but the vizier had begrudgingly turned to his food and was ignoring everybody else. "I'll have a... lemonade please."

"Right away, young sir," Punch bowed, then retreated back into the mansion. Wilson could hear Magnus say something under his breath, but couldn't make out any exact words.

"So, prince!"

Wilson turned, instantly shrinking when he saw both his father and Thomas looking expectantly at him. He coughed a little and took a bite of his food. His father sighed, then whispered something to Thomas.

"Nonsense!" Thomas said, then looked back at Wilson, "So how has your time been here, prince? Good, I hope."

"It has been exemplary," Magnus said, smiling a little.

That was when Wilson noticed Grubbington I staring scornfully at Magnus. Though the second the old man noticed Wilson was watching him, he quickly changed back to his grandpa-like look of joy.

"That's good," Thomas said, then turned to Snike, "You were talking about Frost Crypt?"

"Hey, prince," Wilson quickly turned to see Grubbington behind him, right in front of his face. He nearly leapt back in his seat, and kept looking back-and-forth frantically between Grubbington and the now empty chair he sat in mere seconds ago. "Oh ho ho, sorry for scaring you! It's just that this is all boring, and I bet a youngster like you would love to unwind. Let us boring adults do the talking and let yourself inside. My mansion is always open."

"That is a poor security practice," Magnus scoffed, not even looking at the old man.

"Go meet my grandson, Fruit," Grubbington helped Wilson out of his seat and pushed him towards the mansion. The prince didn't move. "Come now, you don't want to deal with this boring adult stuff. Go."

"Maybe he doesn't want to go," Magnus asked, "Is that correct, prince?"

"N-No..." Wilson said, walking towards the mansion. Before he entered, he looked back at the table to see Magnus and Grubbington now arguing as his father kept laughing with Thomas. He sighed before closing the door, only to see Punch standing right in front of him. "Oh... hi."

"Hello again young sir," Punch said, and handed a glass of lemonade to the prince, "Where may you be going?"

"Grubbington said he wants me to meet his grandson," Wilson said, sipping a bit of his lemonade. It was actually delicious, and he quickly drank down the entire glass. "Ah..."

"I shall get you another glass," he said, more of a statement than a question. He then turned to the stairs and his mouth opened wide, his voice filtered to sound like a school intercom. "MASTER FRUIT, IF YOU MAY COME DOWNSTAIRS PLEASE."

There was the loud slamming of a door upstairs, and then Wilson could see a young boy quickly run down the stairs. He was, for lack of a better term, a peculiar young boy, which became more apparent the more Wilson looked at him.

Fruit was a small moth boy with a fluffy collar and a pair of wings that nearly touched the ground. Instead of walking, he seemed to waddle, which was probably due to his arms. He can't have been over five years old, but his arms had been completely replaced by a pair of giant robotic arms. They dragged on the floor behind Fruit as he ran to meet Wilson, and the prince could only guess how he could carry those things.

"Hiiii!" Fruit said, holding up one of his large hands. A small padding came out of the fingers, probably so he didn't accidentally crush anybody's hand when shaking it. "I'm Fruit!"

"I'm Wilson..." Wilson smiled kindly, "You have big arms."

"Thanks!" Fruit beamed, his antenna bouncing a little, "Papa Punch made them for me! They're real cool!"

"Punch..." Wilson's eyes widened. As if on cue, the robot butler strode into the living room carrying both Wilson's lemonade and a sippy cup of eggnog for Fruit. "You mean him?!"

"Oh no, that's Punch 2," Fruit took his cup and quickly began drinking his eggnog, "Thanks Punch 2!"

"No problem, Master Fruit," the robot bowed, then went back outside.

"So where is Punch 1?" Wilson asked, sitting down on a nearby couch. Fruit sat beside him, the boy's robot arms sinking into the couch. "Is he gone or-?"

"No, he's with momma right now," Fruit said, a bit of eggnog falling from his mouth and staining his neck-fluff, "He works with momma's and her friends now, so grampa made a robot clone of him. They come home after my bedtime."

"So you rarely see them?"

"Depends on if he actually sleeps or not."

Wilson quickly turned a full 180 to see a tall girl standing behind him. She must have been Fruit's older sister, judging by their very similar appearances. One big difference was her arms, which weren't robotic at all. Instead, she had dirty, disheveled bandages over her fists, her knuckles bruised underneath.

"That's Juniper," Fruit said through his eggnog, "She punches people."

"It's called boxing, you know that," Juniper sighed.

"I've never seen any boxes when you fight," Fruit mumbled, then went back to sipping his drink.

"Mh-hm..." Juniper walked over and sat beside Wilson. Her eyes seemed glued to his robe, the shiny greens and golds reflecting in her deep black eyes. "You're that kid from Epic, right? The prince?"

"Uhm... yes," Wilson said, inching away from her, "My name is Wilson."

"Juniper," she smiled a little, then began unwrapping her fists. There was a bit of blood caked onto her knuckles, which made Wilson a little queasy. She glanced at him, chuckling a little. "Don't worry, I didn't murder nobody. Just some sparring with my coach."

"You didn't even tell him about my new plushie," Fruit huffed.

"Tell him yourself!" Juniper snapped, then quickly quieted down.

"Oh, okey," Fruit jumped from the couch and ran upstairs, only to come back minutes later with a huge plush in his robotic hands. It was a plush of a squid, its tentacles wrapping around his arms. "Look look! It's a big squid!"

"That's very cool," Wilson said, his breath lightening. He remembered hearing stories from his father, old stories of Fantasia. A planet mostly submerged, where pirates and outlaws ruled the land. Underneath them, though, the water was ruled by the gigantic sea titans, squids, and sirens. "It's very large."

"Grampa always gets me the biggest plushies!!" Fruit exclaimed, throwing the plush onto the couch, "He's gonna get me a big Goliath one later!"

"That's... good," Wilson nodded, though he had no clue what or who Goliath was.

"So..." Juniper said, exhaling a little, "You make any friends here yet? Besides Fruit, he's easy."

Wilson paused, his mind flashing back to that boy from the day before. Nami, he said his name was. He was nice, but if Magnus didn't want him around the boy, then who was he to fight that? Magnus knew best after all, even if he was sometimes a bit overbearing.

"Not really," Wilson said, shaking his head, "Perhaps we could be friends though...?"

"Heh," Juniper chuckled, "Yeah, why not. Most of my friends at school are bums anyways. You'd like them though."

"What are they like?" Wilson said, extremely cautious. A repeat of yesterday was the last thing he needed. "Are they troublemakers?"

"Depends on who's asking," Juniper said, which didn't answer his question at all, "Mist's the only one to look out for. Makes these bloody knuckles look like a boo-boo. Hurricane too kinda, but he's just a dummy. Walle and Nami are nice, though, even if they are complete losers. Don't tell 'em I called them that."

Wilson didn't hear that last part, that name echoing in his head. Nami. It had only been a day, so why did it feel like an eternity since he saw his face? His strange pink skin, his thin arms, his dark maroon hair. It all perplexed him. And as fate permitted, or perhaps the spirits, they had crossed paths yet again.

"That sounds nice," Wilson said, "I don't know when I'm free, but I'd love to meet them."

"Perfecto," Juniper looked down at her hands and sighed, "Imma go clean up. Fruit, don't try to bore him to death while I'm gone."

"You just don't get how cool squiddies are!" Fruit shouted as she left, a bit too loud for Wilson's liking. The small moth then hugged his plush and turned to Wilson, small stars in his eyes. "What's Epic like? Momma tells me it has big trees, and Mr. Swirly came from there!"

Mr. Swirly... Wilson truly had found himself in an awkward position. Just how many people did these moth people know? Then again, Grubbington was a very rich man, perhaps it was just that. The restaurant seemed pretty popular anyways.

"Mr. Swirly is from there?" Wilson asked, thinking back to that strange feeling he got when seeing the man. And the way Swirly stopped in the elevator to look at him... did that man know who he was?

"Yeh," Fruit nodded, "You know him? He's a very fluffy guy."

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah!" Fruit said, then fluffed up his collar, "My friend Melody says he has very fluffy hair!"

"Is that his daughter?"

"Yup! You should meet her sometime. She's a fish!"

Wilson nearly choked, a small bit of lemonade spurting from his mouth. Fruit looked at him with a bewildered expression on his face, which only pushed the prince closer to hysteria. He was able to calm himself down, but it took a lot of fortitude. Especially with the way Fruit looked then, his disproportionately huge robot arms raised in confusion.

"Sounds fun," the prince smiled, then quickly looked to the door. Without even hearing his voice, he knew Magnus was standing there. Grubbington stood right beside him, still seemingly annoyed at the vizier.

"Prince," Magnus ordered, "Our business here is done. Come now."

"Yes," Wilson said quietly, then patted Fruit on the head, "Thank you."

"Thank you!" Fruit smiled widely as he nodded, his antennae bouncing a bit.

Wilson left the mansion, Magnus quick behind him. They piled back into that long black car and set off for the apartment, the king going on and on the whole way about how amazing of a man this Thomas was.

All Wilson could think about was the new people he had met. So many in so few days. It was a bit too much, but it also felt right somewhat. He didn't know how to describe it. He never knew if he ever could.

He just knew he'd be happy to see that Nami boy again, so he could apologize for what had happened the day before.

Chapter Text

You know, I really do worry about my son sometimes.

It's no fault of his own, I just like to worry sometimes is all. He has good friends, a much better education than I ever got, and plenty of food. Yeah, the shower breaks sometimes and yeah, the landlord is a prick, but I think we're living mighty fine. I just worry he doesn't.

I think the first I learned of this Wilson kid was when I peeked in Nami's notebook one Sunday morning. I don't remember the exact date, but it was soon after the prince had come to the planet, sometime in winter. I regularly checked Nami's notebook, even when he didn't want me too. I feel guilty about it now just as much as I did then, but you need to understand just how much I worry.

His art is beautiful too, I always told him he should draw for a living. His response to that?

"Drawing is only for depressed people and furries."

I didn't even know what a furry was until then, and from what I saw, they don't seem bad at all. He may have seen something worse, but such is the danger of the Internet. If he didn't want to see it, then he shouldn't have pushed me so hard to get him a laptop.

Anyways, it was that morning when I looked in his notebook and saw his drawings of that Wilson boy. That seemed fine, though I was suspicious as to how he was able to draw the prince so realistically. There was no reference to be found anywhere in his room. That's when I noticed the small words at the top of the page. "I love you", they read.

Nami's had plenty of crushes before. No actual boyfriends though, at least to my knowledge. Now, crushing on famous people is common, especially a prince as refined and fashionable as Wilson. But it was still unrealistic. I just didn't want him to get his hopes too high, you know?

I left his notebook alone for a while after that, though I made sure to check in as often as I could. The prince was in the city, the whole planet knew that much, and I just didn't want him to do something... stupid, for lack of a better word.

In hindsight I was probably being too closed-minded, but I just worry about him sometimes. 

---

"Hello? Is this Mr. Bones?"

"Yes, that's me. Who is this?"

"Orataro. I work for Ace of Hearts."

"Of course... What the Hell does he want?"

"Nothing, sir. Just wants to check in with you, is all."

"Just me? Tell him to fuck off."

"Sir-!"

"Isn't he still in trouble with Rose? Tell him to fix his own mess. I've got better things to do."

"No, that's the thing. Rose is dead."

"Oh. Did-?"

"Natural Causes. That's the story, at least."

"Why tell me this? I don't care about her, or him. That bastard must be happy anyways, just leave us alone."

"Sir, he just wanted to-"

"Tell him to stay the Hell away from me and my son."

*Click*