Chapter Text
"Do we have any scent blockers, mate?" Phil asked behind him as he rooted around their bed room. Etoiles had just about every weapon he had set out on the floor around them, systematically muttered the pros and cons of each one as he went. Missa had already been kitted out with a short sword and dagger, both rippling with ancient enchantments, but had settled himself on the bed to go through the makeshift component pouch Phil had scrounged up for him. Both Phil and Etoiles used scrolls and enchanted items far more than actual spells, but it was better than nothing at all.
"I don't think so." Etoiles said after a moment more, the question taking a moment to register. "We didn't really have a reason to use them, but uh... I think we still have some of those apple oils that Pomme likes? And then we can just scent him after, and that will probably be good enough."
"Yeah, that might do..." Phil murmured, turning to the basket of miscellaneous shit that had been left at their house. Most of it belonged to either Pomme or Baghera, a couple odds and ends from Slime or some of the others. He smiled a bit at the eclectic collection despite himself. "Supposed we ought to clean this out when we're done, huh?"
"Hm?" Etoiles returned, clearly distracted and Phil cackled a bit to himself.
"Okay, I think- I can do a couple spells. The good news is that most spells for me don't need a lot of ingredients, especially not when I have this!" Missa said with a little flourish of his lute. "And I have not used many today, so I will hopefully have a lot of energy for it even after I cast my disguise."
"Don't be afraid to take a step back if you need a break during, mate."
"I think I'll be alright." Missa said with a tentative kind of confidence, half joking even as he thumbed at his lute strings nervously. "Or well, I have you and Etoiles to hide behind, so it will be alright."
"We'll do our best."
"Where is your confidence Philza?" Etoiles scolded, and Phil burst into laughter at that, at how offended he sounded. "We are the best! These guys are losers who live in castles, who have never broken a nail, Philza! We will shatter them!"
"We don't fucking know that mate." Phil said through laughter, finally retrieving Pomme's little vial of apple oil, which he waved in Missa's direction to grab his attention before throwing it his way. Missa fumbled but caught before it hit the bed, popping it open to smear across his scent glands, the smell of it already filling the room. "I'd rather be fucking cautious and safe than over confident and dead."
"There is no such thing as over confidence when we are the best." Etoiles grumbled lightly, sniffing once before he deflated a bit. "Wish I could've seen Pomme before the fight today."
"If everything goes well she might be right there with us, knowing her." Phil said and Etoiles smiled at the thought, looking pleased with himself. "She learned from the best, after all."
"Hm, hm, hm, you think you can bribe me with nice words, Philza? You think I will just forget you doubting us?" Etoiles scoffed, slowly standing as he made his way over to Phil, having to do a little hop to make it past his frankly ridiculous spread of weapons covering the floor. Phil could feel himself on the verge of laughter again, raising his hands as he took steps back towards the kitchen but he was a little too slow- two steps back and Etoiles already had wrapped his arms around Phil, rubbing his face across Phil's neck and chin while Phil cackled at him. "You say you are wrong! Say it!"
"I'm wrong, I'm wrong, we've fucking got this!" Phil exclaimed, shoving at Etoiles' face with both hands, "Now get the fuck off of me-"
"Aw, come on Phil, Etoiles is just trying to like, let you know that we've got this!" Missa cheered, though he looked a little nervous himself, and Etoiles eyes locked onto him with an intensity that made him crumple into himself. Like a fucking sight hound spoting a squirrel or something, and Phil wheezed a bit at the mental image. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? We- we got this?"
"That was awfully unconvincing, mate." Phil teased as Etoiles set him back down on the ground, slowly stalking back towards Missa, who attempted to scramble backwards on the bed but very quickly found his back to the headboard. "I think Etoiles might have something to say about that lackluster attitude of yours."
"Missa..." Etoiles sang, and Missa giggled nervously, trying to tuck himself further away and almost completely falling off the bed. "Did you know that you are also the best? That you are so cool and strong? That you can kick this guy's ass without even blinking?"
"Etoiles, please don't-" Missa tried, and then shrieked as Etoiles pounced, dragging Missa back onto the center of the bed by his ankles before he beared down on him, rubbing his throat all over Missa's face. Missa spluttered, his arms flailing a bit as Phil laughed at them both, circling around to sit beside both their heads to wait for his turn to scent Missa. "Philza! Help me!"
"No can do, mate." Phil said, propping his chin on one hand as he grinned unapologetically down at him. "Nothing I can do but wait for my turn."
"What? No-" He was cut off as Etoiles flattened over top of him entirely, his breath forced out of him in an extended wheeze that made Phil giggle. "Oye, Etoiles, you're- crushing me!"
"No, no, I am holding you down for Phil's turn." Etoiles said matter-of-factly, and Phil snorted at him.
"You've made it damn awkward for my turn is what you've done, mate." He tapped at Etoiles' back. "You've suffocated him enough, lemme at 'im."
"Oh, my hero..." Missa breathed as Etoiles did roll off to the side, allowing Phil to lean over Missa to brush the underside of his chin over Missa's forehead, down his nose, past his lips. He stole a kiss as Phil moved over him and Phil offered him a wry smile, dipping down for a proper one before he leaned down lower, one hand coming up to press Missa's face into his neck. Missa's arms came up to rest lightly on Phil's sides, bunching in the loose fabric of his robe and just holding him in place. Phil could feel Missa's breath, the plushness of his mouth and the slight roughness of his chin and jaw catching against his shoulder. There was the lightest press of teeth before they were both pulling away, and Phil planted one more kiss to Missa's forehead before he pushed off entirely.
"Alright, I think that'll do." He said, offering Missa a hand that he took easily, only looking a little dazed. He glanced at Etoiles, who was still sprawled out on the bed, looking up at the two of them with a distinctly self-satisfied expression, which Phil raised his eyebrows at. "You ready to go mate? It's about that time."
"Of course, I have been ready for like a hundred years." he returned flippantly, and Phil snatched up a pillow to toss at his face in retaliation. "Alright, Philza! I am ready, is this not what you wanted?"
"I swear..." Phil muttered with a roll of his eyes, but he was smiling too- they all were now. He glanced at Missa. "You good, mate?"
"I think so." He said with a little exhale, bouncing on the tips of his toes. "As much as is possible, at least."
"I'd say that's good enough! Right then, let's get this show on the road!"
Missa cast his disguise spell before they actually left the house- newly blonde-haired and blue-eyed and smelling more like Phil and Etoiles than himself, Phil could only hoped it was enough. Night had truly fallen in the time they'd taken to prepare, torches lighting up the streets around them as they made their way north towards the manor. They passed a few people on their way, giving little nods in greeting that were returned- they'd let Cellbit know to get ready to set their plan into motion.
The manor itself was a sprawling thing, especially compared to the houses that made up the town itself- all pretty white quartz and dark brown spruce. It was pristine in a way that spoke of magic, no visible wear and tear as far as Phil could see, their gardens leading up to the main door almost unnaturally pruned and perfect, like every single blade of grass had been custom made. And it might've been, knowing the Federation. They certainly liked a spectacle.
A butler answered the door promptly, peering dubiously over the three of them as Phil gave a casual wave. "Heya, mate. Me and Etoiles just got back into town and caught word of the fucking rules-guy and figured we ought to talk to him."
"Ah, you're referring to lord Duode." The butler sniffed, and Phil almost snorted at his haughty tone. There was a pause as the butler seemed to internally weigh the pros and cons of just shutting all three of them out, but then Etoiles drew his axe and leaned against it. The butler cleared his throat. "Right, well, I shall guide you to the parlor room to wait while I fetch lord Duode. Shouldn't take too long."
"Nice of you, mate." Phil said with a little shrug, as if he didn't care either way, just to piss the guy off a little more.
The manor was even nicer on the inside- rich wooden furniture, plush rugs and ever-burning torches to light up the space with a pale gleam. He had half a thought towards stealing one of the fancy-ass candelabras sitting on one of the many end tables that lined the corridor, but thought better of it. They'd have plenty of time for that shit when they were on their way out of this place. The parlor was nice, though none of them felt comfortable actually sitting down; Etoiles was still fussing with his axe as he glanced over at the door the butler had disappeared through, and Missa was bouncing on his feet again, just enough to be a little distracting.
Phil glanced out the nearest window and saw the subtlest movements in the dark; his friends, ready for his signal.
He took in a breath, trying to steady his nerves- they'd be fine.
There was a short knock on the door before the butler pushed it open, standing aside to let Duode into the room, two guards accompanying him on either side as they filed in behind him, different from the ones Phil remembered. Duode was still very much the same though- his pure-white hair slicked back, his clothes a light blue that had thrown Phil off before. His eyes were all black and calculating as he took in Phil and Etoiles, and then Missa, which Phil forced himself not to react to, even though the urge to lift a wing to separate them was almost overwhelming.
"You asked for me?" He said, his voice still smarmy, but far more reserved than he'd sounded in the market, where it was clear how much he reveled in the power he'd wielded there.
"Yeah, we just got back into town and we heard a little rumor that you're the new rules-guy, right?" Phil asked with about as much nonchalance as he could muster, tucking his hands into his pockets.
A scroll of antimagic pressed up against his knuckles, the parchment that made it up age-soft and fragile, but even then the magic infused into the fibers sent a tingle up Phil's spine. It was probably overkill- even finding the thing had involved a dungeon they probably shouldn't have even been inside to begin with, fighting things they had not been equipped to handle. They'd bullrushed to the end as fast as possible, snagged what loot they could, and gotten the fuck out of there, and now here they were, an over-powered scroll on hand to mark the start of a change that had been a long time in coming, and two words of antimagic strapped to his and Etoiles hips, paired with the dagger they'd given to Missa.
A matched set, despite all the shit that they'd stumbled into on the way to where they were now.
"I suppose that depends on what rules you're talking about." Duode laughed lightly, folding his arms across his chest. A ring glinted dully on his finger, marbled red that looked as though it had split open. "If you would be so kind as to remind me- ah, but first, I think it would only be proper for you to show me the proper respect I'm owed, and Kneel."
Phil was falling to his knees before he'd even registered what had happened, the accompanying thud of Etoiles knocking into the wood beside him more than enough to make Phil's heart sink, everything in him suddenly feeling cold. Missa's shout of surprise was quickly cut off as Duode's guards took advantage of their paralyzation, tugging Phil's hands from his pockets to bind them tightly in rough rope before making quick work of searching him.
He could just see Missa being forced to kneel right between them out of the corner of his eye, the spell keeping him in place and unable to see, but by the sound of Missa's suddenly muffled protests it was clear he'd likely been gagged and bound just like them both.
"Imagine my surprise." Duode started, one hand pressed to his chest in a faux expression of shock. Phil could feel the command slowly easing its grip on him, but it was just replaced by a pair of swords pressing against his skin, one poking roughly against his wing. "When two strangers, smelling strangely familiar I might add, come into my host's home, clearly intending ill will towards me? It'd make anyone feel unwelcome, to say the least."
"You are fucking unwelcome." Phil spat as Missa gave another little yelp, muffled and unintelligible around the fabric stuffing his mouth.
"You and all of your peoples." Etoiles bellowed, practically rattling the windows with his growl. "It is over for you, you will see."
"Will I now? It seems to me you're a little preoccupied at the minute... and truthfully I doubt that is going to change any time soon. It is unfortunate though, having to make an example of my new acquaintances." Duode said with insincere sorrow, even as his condescending smirk practically dripped with smugness. "As well as this newcomer here, he just seems so sweet..."
"What the hell are you even punishing us for?" Phil scoffed, attempting to get up, but the sword point against his shoulder was immovable and dangerous even when he held himself still. "For having an omega?"
Because even if Duode was a fucking bigwig in the upper echelon of the Federation as a whole, even if he did have all those fucking connections he'd been bragging about what felt like ages ago, even if he portrayed himself as an untouchable figurehead that Phil couldn't even think of struggling against- he was still bound within the laws of his own government, and if enough concern was raised, if enough people pressed the point of one of the members of their government owning a slave- well, it wouldn't be good for anyone on that side, much less Duode himself.
"Oh." Duode clucked, shaking his head as if Phil were fucking stupid, and Phil could feel his own growl growing in his throat, even as Missa's hand on his wrist kept him from accidentally getting himself impaled. "Of course not, dear denizen of Oseron. I'm simply punishing you for the employ of Enchantment magic, used with the expressed purpose of deceiving someone of higher station than yourself."
And with a wave of his hand, gesturing towards Missa, the magic of his disguise slowly dissolved into nothing before their eyes, his blond hair fading to black as his eyes fractured back into their pretty brown, his skin pale with shock as the illusion sifted away.
Phil felt his stomach drop, could feel Etoiles freeze beside him, could hear the raspy gasp that escaped Missa because-
"Which, as you know, means death. If I so wish it, of course." Duode continued, nonchalant, eyes skirting over to Missa, trailing across his newly-revealed features with a kind of lustful indulgence that made Phil's skin crawl, though the sword still pressed a little too firmly against his folded wing prevented him from shielding Missa from view. "Though... I could be persuaded otherwise."
"You sick fuck." Phil spat.
"Though perhaps I'm being a little too generous even offering such a thing..." Duode continued, taking a step forward towards Missa, who froze as Duode's fingers skated along his jaw before pulling lightly at the collar of his shirt, revealing the unmarked skin of his neck. "All that fuss and you didn't even mark him? Perhaps I should just get rid of you two and save me the trouble. I've heard that there's some need for alphas up in Sulha, wouldn't that be nice? A little bit of irony, just to cheer me."
Missa whimpered, high and loud even through his gag, and Phil wished he could punch that sickening smile off of Duode's face.
"No? Is my pet protesting? Even after they stole you from me?" Duode's fingers curled possessively through Missa's hair as he loomed, snorting at Phil and Etoiles' warning growl. He knew as well as they did there was little they could do here. Phil risked a glance towards the window- all he could hope for now was that the others would take their silence as a sign, to either get the fuck out or to attempt to stage a rescue, Phil didn't know. He wasn't sure which one he wanted either. "It seems as though you haven't lost your manners, pet, even after all that time away..."
He glanced meaningfully between Phil and Etoiles, and Phil could feel a hook in his ribs as he watched Missa lean forward, pressing his face pathetically against Duode's knees, his shoulder's hitching with sobs. There was a tangle of disgust and fury and helplessness all knotted in Phil's stomach, so strong he almost wanted to puke, but he couldn't bear to tear his eyes away, even as they burned with his own tears.
He tracked Duode's hand with an intensity he'd never felt before, watching as it curled in Missa's hair and pulled him back, wrenching a pained gasp from Missa's throat that had both Phil and Etoiles, practically shaking under the points of the swords still holding them in place. He could feel the cold metal digging into the skin of his wing distantly, the wet of the blood as he dug his nails into his palms, fighting the urge to do something, anything-
"I think... maybe if you beg, pet." Duode simpered, hooking the finger of his free hand underneath the fabric of Missa's gag. "Beg me to spare them, and I'll consider it."
Missa's eyes were still downcast as the gag was dragged away from his mouth, and Phil could see out of the corner of his eyes Missa's hands flexing where they were tied at the wrist. He reached up at an awkward angle to lightly brush along the strings of his lute, still strapped to his back. Phil's chest hurt, filled with enough dread and anger and helplessness that he was sure he was going to burst as the seams at any moment, and an involuntary whimper of his own escaped his throat, mournful and desperate.
But when Missa head finally tipped up his eyes were clear, his expression set in determination, and Duode blinked incredulously down at him, clearly as taken off-guard as Phil felt.
"Siento algo muy grande que te domina, algo que ni siquiera puedo explicarme." He sang, his voice rushed and hoarse, his fingers snapping a beat. The swords digging into Phil's skin shifted, and so did he, everything suddenly clicking in place- his sword was only a few feet away, and even the half a second he got to take in Etoiles' expression was enough to know they were all on the same page now. "No importa cuanto quieras, se apodera de tu cuerpo, desde mi mente no puedo curarte, encuentras de este amor, él puede más que tú."
Like slight tears into the fabric of reality, slivers of iron appeared in midair, hovering over Duode's head, growing longer and longer until they pierced the skin of his temple, forming a twisted crown of jagged iron. The metal seemed to have a red glow to it, and a similar red over took the black of Duode's eyes, trails of blood slipping down his face where the crown had dug into him. MIssa's head jerked towards the guard still hovering over Philza, and without a word, Duode attacked.
Phil used the moment of distraction to slip away, practically throwing himself at their swords. His skin caught along his blade in his hurry to cut the ropes off, but he couldn't care- the second his hands were free he tossed Etoiles' sword to him, which he caught with his own bound hands. He ducked as Phil caught the strike of the one unoccupied guard, taking only a second more to free himself before he was helping Phil force the guy back, knocking him into the far wall hard enough that the windows shuddered in their frames.
Missa was still staring daggers into Duode as Phil took another second to cut his ropes off, tracking Duode as he clawed into his own guards. Clawed in a very literal sense too- Phil noticed his snout was growing longer, white fur sprouting along his new muzzle as his teeth grew sharp, his whole body growing thicker with muscle and fur- a beasthide shifter, just like Phil had thought.
"Do- can we hit him, mate?" Phil asked, a little more desperately than he'd meant it to sound but he could so clearly hear Duode's threats in his ears, could still see exactly where his hands had lingered on Missa's skin. His teeth were aching now of an entirely different reason- he was itching to tear out Duode's throat. But Missa quickly shook his head, rubbing at the rawness of his wrists even while his eyes never left Duode. "Fuck-"
Etoiles' sword sank into the other guard with a sickening crunch, momentarily pinning the guy against the wall they'd run him into, Etoiles' growl deep enough Phil could feel it in his bones, even at a distance.
"It's only a minute, only a minute." Missa muttered, half to himself, then he angled his face towards Phil. "Get- my component pouch, get me a feather."
He didn't even bother going that far- he ripped into one of the stupid fancy throw pillows on the nearby couch with a very satisfying abandon, spraying feathers everywhere and making Missa and Etoiles bark out a startled laugh. Etoiles dislodged his sword from the wall the same time the guard Duode had been taking care of dropped- they were both covered in blood, but Duode's eyes were still wild with magical mania, burning like twin embers as he turned to look back at the three of them.
"Get ready." Missa murmured, and Phil and Etoiles both hefted their swords, a sense of giddiness rising up in Phil that was tempered only by his determination to get this done, to make sure they'd never have to worry about this fucker ever again. He could already tell that the spell was fading, the light around Duode's head and in his eyes slowly fading, the iron of his crown sifting into nothing.
He had just enough time to register what had happened, just enough time to look down at his bloody hands and then back up at them, back at Missa, just enough time to growl, "You-"
Missa twirled his feathers in his fingers, drawing a line over his mouth and down his torso, entire face darkly set in a way that made Phil's stomach drop a bit, and then Duode's furious expression crumpled, his mouth twisting as his next breath came out as more of a cough, and then another, and another, until he was doubled over laughing. Laughing so hard even listening to it made Phil's throat ache as they watched Duode curl over himself, dropping to his knees as he was wracked with uncontrollable laughter.
Missa released a breath, glancing to Phil and Etoiles. "All yours."
Etoiles grinned first, practically prancing towards Duode’s prone form, still shaking with high-pitched and strained laughter, his eyes as wild as before, but this time they were filled with fear. His hand was kicked away from where it'd curled over his stomach and pinned under the heel of Etoiles' boot, the point of his sword dropping thrust into the floor just close enough to Duode's face that it cut lightly along his cheeks, the slight wound adding to the growing puddle under his head.
Something snapped, but Duode was still caught in the throes of the spell, and could only laugh harder.
Phil stalked forward, pressing his own foot on Duode's thigh and crouching down just enough to cut a jagged line down Duode's shirt, not at all being mindful of the point of his sword. Blood was slowly soaking into the expensive fabric when Phil finally leaned away, though still close enough to press a contemplative hand against Duode's exposed throat. It would've been so satisfying to just crush him, right then and there, his adam's apple bobbing frantically against Phil's palm like a frightened bird.
But instead he leaned back a little further, glancing back towards where Missa was still standing, his expression unreadable, but growing confused.
"Guys?" He asked, and Etoiles snorted first, gesturing down at Duode.
"What are you waiting for, my bro? Your kill is waiting for you.
He blinked, as if he were surprised, but he slowly approached them, his eyes darting between Phil and Etoiles before dropping to Duode, still pinned to the floor, his laughter slowly subsiding. Etoiles handed him his dagger- the antimagic enchantments rippling away across the metal, and Missa took it, his expression quickly hardening as he leaned over Duode, dropping down to bracket the other man's ribs with his knees. He hefted the blade in his hand, hesitating just long enough that Duode dared to open his mouth, as if to protest, or maybe to beg, but it was enough that Missa drove it home, lodging the blade deep into Duode's throat with a growl that melted into a cry.
He was stuck there for a second, whatever words Duode might have said lost in the sudden swelling of blood likely filling his mouth and lungs, before he slowly eased back, letting out the breath he'd be holding. His head knocked lightly against Phil's knee as he slumped to the right, and he gave a weak little laugh, breathy and so, so relieved.
Etoiles pressed a hand to Missa's shoulder a half a second before Phil buried his own in Missa's hair, making sure he knew they had him.
"It's over now, my bro." Etoiles said quietly, but Missa just shook his head, his laugh a little more humorous now.
"No, Etoiles. we're just getting started."
"Damn right we are." Phil said strongly, moving away from Duode the second he stopped twitching, throwing up the window and waving his hand. He could just barely make out the movement out past the gated yard, and the flash of feline eyes- either Bagi or Cellbit, he wasn't sure, but either one would make sure to pass the word on. He turned back to the other two, Missa still leaning against Etoiles. "You both good? Or do you need a minute."
"I am fine, but uh-" Etoiles brushed a hand through Missa's hair with a rueful smile. "I think Missa has people-fever."
"What a fucking sentence." Phil snorted, though he knew what Etoiles was getting at. He could see just how badly Missa was shaking the second he got close, crouching low and taking one of Missa's hands in his own. Missa offered him a smile, teeth chattering with left-over adrenaline and whatever else. Phil slowly pried Missa's knife out of his hands, just in case. "You're alright, mate. just sit for a second, the others out there already know, they'll be by in just a sec. Etoiles?"
"I can go, yes." He agreed immediately, brushing through Missa's hair again before dropping low enough to press a quick kiss to the crown of Missa's head before he was out the door, going to meet their friends before the guards did. He pointed back at them before he entirely turned the corner, expression serious. "You both be safe, yes? Do not let these chumps jump on you, Philza, or I will never let you live it down."
"Wouldn't dream of it, mate." Phil chortled, and Missa gave a very shaky thumbs up as a helpless giggle escaped him, and Phil rubbed a hand up and down his arm. "We're good, we've got each other."
Etoiles nodded once, and then was gone, and Phil made quick work of getting Missa over to the couch while Phil went through their shit again. It was a couple more minutes before Missa's legs stopped shaking enough for him to stand on his own, fingering the frets of his returned lute with a determined expression on his face. There was the sound of some kind of conflict down the hallway and Missa's head snapped towards the door, looking like he was about to vibrate right out of his skin.
"You sure you're alright, mate?" Phil asked with half a laugh, and Missa leaned forward to brush his chin over Phil's forehead, though Phil laughed for real when Missa couldn't seem to tear his eyes away even then. "Let's go see how they're doing, yeah?"
"Yeah..." Missa breathed, fingers tightening over the neck of his lute, and it was then that Missa finally met his eyes, his own darkened with something that made heat catch in Phil's stomach. "I- I want to make sure they can't do things like that to other people, Philza. This is-"
His face screwed up and he took in a breath, but Phil bumped his forearm with his own, nodding seriously. "I getcha mate. You don't gotta explain shit. Me and Etoiles and everyone else have got your back, alright?"
Missa stared at him for a long time, biting his lip as he sucked in a quick breath- and then he was wrapping Phil in a hug, rubbing his chin along Phil's shoulder and neck with a desperation that Phil understood. He clung back just as tightly, trying to reassure Missa that he was there, that there was no fucking way he would going anywhere, that Missa had people now, no matter how long he'd been on his own.
"Phil, Etoiles- Oh!" A voice came, making Missa jump, but the high tones of it as well as the gust of baking bread and warm metal made him clock Bagi immediately. She smiled at him, a little teasing as he chuckled. "Should I come back later? Or maybe I should go get Etoiles."
"Sounds like he needs us more than the other way around?" He asked, allowing Missa to pull away to look, then shyly wave, which Bagi brightly returned. "Tina and the others alright?"
"Oh, yeah." She waved, hefting her frying pan to rest on her shoulder as she cocked her head down towards the hall. "I dug out the bunker they're in forever ago. Just in case, you know?"
"Supposed I should've guessed as much." Phil laughed, tugging Missa along after her. "Lemme guess, you lined it with lead too?"
"Who do you think you're talking to?" She scoffed, like it should've been obvious, and both he and Missa laughed. "but it's good to see you're both okay- Etoiles seemed a little nervous, which is weird for him, you know?"
"Missa got the shakes for a bit, that's all." Phil reassured her, and she grinned at Missa knowingly, hefting her pan again as if in demonstration. "He should be fucking worrying about himself anyways-"
"My bro!" Etoiles called on cue, and all three of them laughed at that. He had a few new splatters of blood across him, not his own, and his sword was still dripping where he held it in his hand. There weren't any bodies immediately lying about, and the others were nowhere in sight, but the trail Etoiles had left was as clear as day. "What, what, what? I know my face is stupid but you don't have to laugh at me!"
"Right." Phil chortled as Missa pulled away, mouth set in a determined line that Etoiles immediately attempted to side-step, laughing a little nervously, freezing when Missa sandwiched his face in between his hands.
"No eres estúpido, Etoiles! Don't say that again, or I'll-" Missa struggled for words for a second before he pressed a quick kiss to the tip of Etoiles' nose, thoroughly baffling the other as Missa attempted to ignore his suddenly-burning face. He cleared his throat, ignoring Bagi's delighted laughter behind him. "You are- so cool."
"You're the best!" Phil said, his voice as close to Etoiles' inflection was he could manage and making them all laugh again, Missa's nervous strain turning breathy as he briefly pressed his forehead against Etoiles' shoulder. "But- I dunno, mate, it looks like you might have to stop with all that negative shit. What a fucking shame."
"But it is my sentence!" Etoiles protested. "It is part of who I am! My personality! How will people know I am shit If I do not tell them!"
"They will know you are shit because your personality is pendejo." Roier sneered similarly drenched in blood with Cellbit in tow, the latter's pupils large enough to almost entirely swallow his irises. He looked immensely pleased with himself, which was more than enough to make Phil bow with laughter all over again. "And people will know just from speaking with you for like a minute."
"Ah! Coming from a culero like you-" Etoiles laughed, but Missa's head snapped toward Roier in an instant.
"Hay algún problema con tus ojos, pendejo?" He said, and even if Phil didn't already know most swears in spanish just from existing around Roier, it would've been clear just by the ferocity of Missa's tone alone. "Debe estar borracho, señor."
"Ey-" Cellbit started, but Roier just laughed.
"Yo borracho? Has visto a quién estás tocando?" Roier shot back, still grinning widely. "No mames, Etoiles, your boytoy is so mean, ey?"
"Don't fucking call him that!" Phil shouted, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched their little back and forth. Every insult Roier slung at Etoiles and vice versa was always meant in good humor, and it's seemed- as far as Phil could fucking tell at least, which wasn't really saying much- that Missa seemed to have caught onto it, though he was still frowning at Roier. "Gods a-fucking-bove. You lot done then, or is there more fuckers to put down?"
"We still need to find Cucurucho." Cellbit said first, his hand flexing as his claws slowly retracted. His eyes were shining brightly, and Phil could only guess as to what horrors he was imagining subjecting Cucurucho to. "And he'll have more people with him too- everyone else is hiding, so we shouldn't have to worry about them."
"Bagi does good work." Phil said with a short nod, adjusting his grip on his sword as he took everyone in- Etoiles and Missa still standing close, Missa's hand resting on Etoiles' forearm, Cellbit and Roier bloody but clearly enjoying themselves. Bagi stood beside him and dropped the broad side of her pan against her palm, and Phil had a feeling that whatever sat between them and Cucurcho wasn't going to be a problem in the slightest. He grinned at them all, wings spreading a bit, and they all grinned back. "Let's fucking do this.”
It would be a long long time before they made any significant progress.
Word of their raid on the manor belonging to Mayor Cucurcho spread quickly, despite their best efforts- even necklaces of nondetection couldn't do much to hide the burnt husk where the house used to be. It made things more difficult, gave their enemies time to prepare for them, but at this point they were long used to infiltrating enemy camps. And this time they were working together, gathering more and more people who were sick to death of how bad things had gotten in the short time Mapato had been appointed chancellor.
It had been a long time since Phil had staged a revolution, but the others seemed to take to it like ducks to water, Etoiles, Cellbit and Bagi talking strategy while Baghera and Roier radiated bloodlust. Fit and Pac tagged each other out each round, and Slime had found his calling going undercover in disguise, though he often needed a partner with him to actually jot down the important shit.
The kids were a worry, but they seemed to take what little they were exposed to with stride. Maybe a little too much- they'd caught both Richas and Pomme sneaking around their planning room more than once at that point, both for different reasons. Ramon and Empanada- Tina and Bagi's baby- were growing well and quickly, and despite everything else... it felt good.
Missa seemed to fit right in with the others- he and Roier bickered like few else, and he was always happy to carry a song, which Slime and Baghera enjoyed immensely. Phil had honestly forgotten just how present music as a whole had been before he'd moved to Oseron, but it was quickly becoming the norm now, even a herald in certain places. Those towns they fought in found solace in the little healing songs Missa did afterwards, children wide-eyed at the sight of someone playing and singing around so many people, while older ones would tell stories of how it used to be considered an omen of a happy village.
He shied under the attention at first, but the more they traveled, the more people wanted to hear his songs, wanted to learn his magic- for a person who'd been meant to log the death of things, Missa seemed to thrive in the small revival of bardic practices.
Phil could see him there, around the fire with a hand-made Bajo in his lap- his lute having been given to a different person after they'd gone through the first few villages. The firelight caught on his eyes and hair, his teeth flashing with a wide smile as his fingers plucked at his strings, several children hanging off his lap. Phil felt Etoiles curl an arm around his shoulders, humming a bit in appreciation.
"He looks good." Etoiles said quietly, admiring, and Phil nodded. Then he smirked to himself.
"The kids really make it, huh?" He asked, his voice sly, and he felt Etoiles freeze against him.
"Phil...." He said, like it was a warning, but Phil only shrugged his arm off, turning to flash him a quick grin before he plodded towards Missa.
Honestly, it was probably the least stressed Phil could remember being, which was certainly saying something considering they were now considered enemies of the state.
And that part was certainly no piece of cake, but... every triumph made everything a little easier, more people joining their cause, picking up arms, offering support in whatever ways they could. Eventually it got to a point where even the common people of the town they were after would provide as much information as they could before they'd even gotten one of their own on the inside, people seeking them out to help. It was slow going, but they were patient when they needed to be, careful, and- well, Phil and Bad had more than enough anxiety to make up for most of what the Federation could've planned in the meantime. But one after another, eventually, the branch governing Ubhara fell.
They'd celebrated with everything they had that final night and well into the morning, knowing their fight was far from over. There was still a lot more work to be done- a revolution like theirs was something long-fought and hard to earn, but they were with their friends, their family, and most importantly with each other. It was more than Phil could've ever hoped for himself, if he were being honest, far beyond what he'd ever dreamed. Missa above him and Etoiles behind, and every night they slept tucked close together, Phil's wings draped over them from one side while Etoiles' arm stretched from the other.
They woke to the sounds of their friend's clattering breakfast together, and ate to the sounds of laughter and joviality, breathing in their situation with a joy none of them had ever known.
Phil smiled back at his mates as they rode towards the border of Verand, their twin mating marks glinting silver in the early morning light, their scents of green and florals caught on the downwind.
He didn't think he could remember ever being so happy before.
Missa and Etoiles beamed back, like they felt the exact same way.