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Chapter Text

The Kingdom of Favela, had an odd name, Favela being translated into slums, in common, and well Kingdoms typically have the rich leading them, and Favela was no exception. King Cellbit, older brother to crown princess Bagi, crown prince Mike, and prince Pac, and joint father to prince Richarlyson, although the public didn’t know of the boy’s existence, was the ruler of the Kingdom of Favela. 

Ruling hadn’t been easy for Cellbit, that was clear to everyone, especially Pac, who despite not being a crown prince, was his main adviser. Cellbit had stirred clear of multiple wars, managed to avoid engagement offers to Bagi, Mike and Pac, and now Bagi was engaged to a woman of her own choice, something Cellbit was very proud he could assist with. 

King Cellbit currently had an issue, the Kingdom of 2b2t, otherwise known as the Kingdom of rebels, unofficially of course, was going to attack, and start a full war against them, and surprisingly it wasn’t the King who had ordered the attack, it was his main adviser. They wanted power, and Favela had a lot, there were only two ways to gain a kingdom’s power, invasion or marriage, so Cellbit was stuck for what to do, he really didn’t want a war, and there was no way he was giving away either Pac or Mike, so he didn’t have any options left. 

Prince Pac was called to Cellbit’s throne room, somewhere the two of them liked to have private meetings without any eavesdroppers, aka Bagi and Mike. Pac walked along the halls, being led by his guard, Felps. He knew the issue was serious, despite not knowing what it was, as he hadn’t seen Cellbit in weeks, nobody had, the King had been locked in his room for a very long time, not even leaving to see his own son, something the whole castle, royals and staff, knew meant the issue was serious. 

Felps opened the door as Pac walked in, Cellbit was sat on his throne, despite hating it, there were paint supplies in front of the set of thrones, Cellbit waved Pac over to sit on his own throne, and dismissed Felps, who was to wait at the door of Pac’s chambers. 

Cellbit arose from his throne, and Pac followed in suit, Cellbit walked over for a hug, tears threatening to escape his eyes, Pac wrapped his arms around his king, his friend, and most importantly his brother. Cellbit collapsed into his arms, sobbing into Pac’s robes, not that Pac minded, he only wore his robes for official duties. 

“Eu não posso fazer isso,” Cellbit whispered. (I can’t do it)

“Fazer o quê?” (Do what?)

“O Reino de 2b2t, eles estão ameaçando invadir,” (The Kingdom of 2b2t, they are threatening to invade)

“QUE?”

“Pac, fique quieto, ninguém pode saber,” (Be quiet nobody can know)

“Por que não?” (Why not?)

“Eu sou o rei da paz, mas nesta situação não há paz,” (I’m the king of peace, but in this situation there is no peace)

“Tinha que haver outra coisa que eles queriam,” (There has to be something else that they want)

“Há, mas... Eu não vou fazer isso,” (There is… but I won’t do it)

“Por que? O que é?” (Why? What is it?)

“Casamento,” (Marriage)

“Certamente eles sabem que você está noivo,” (Surely they know you’re engaged)

“Não eu, você ou Mike,” (Not me, you or Mike)

“Não, não Mike,” (No, not Mike)

“Eu não vou deixar você ir também,” (I won’t let you go either)

“Tem certeza de que é a única outra opção?” (Are you sure it’s the only other option?)

“Sim, o conselheiro do rei me disse, casamento ou guerra,” (Yes, the king's adviser told me, marriage or war)

“Por que não o próprio rei?” (Why not the king himself?)

“O rei confia em seu conselheiro e ficou do lado dele,” (The king trusts his adviser and has sided with him)

“Então, casamento ou guerra?” (So, marriage or war?)

“Sim…”

“Quando é sua próxima reunião com eles?” (When is your next meeting with them?)

“Amanhã,”

“Deixe-me sentar com você, como seu conselheiro,” (Let me sit with you, as your counselor)

“Tem certeza?” (Are you sure?)

“Sim, posso não ser o príncipe herdeiro, mas sou um príncipe e seu irmão, estou aqui para ajudar,” (Yes, I may not be the crown prince, but I'm a prince and your brother, I'm here to help)

“Amanhã, nascer do sol, estar aqui,” (Tomorrow, sunrise, be here)

“Sim, sua majestade,” (Yes, your majesty)

Pac stood up from the floor, no longer holding a sobbing Cellbit in his arms, he left the room and began to return to his chambers, where Felps was waiting outside. He went inside, calling Felps inside too, and began writing in his diary.

My Dearest Journal,

This whole ado, of which my liege informed me, hath put upon my heart a heavy strain, within me I know what I must do, for realm, for kin, for heir, but yet my heart doth yearn to be spared it, and I fear my king will not approve it.

I feareth my choices, I cannot allow Mike to suffer this cruel fate, wherefore I knoweth it must be me, to wed a man I knoweth not, to share the power of mine kingdom without giving it away, at the meeting I will assess the situation and thereafter I will propose the idea to King Cellbit.

If he accepteth not, I am uncertain what to perform, I desire not my kingdom to wage war, for then I may windeth my brethren and my sister, and I desire not my son to loseth us, King Cellbit must perceive that this be best and peradventure he shall accepteth it as 'tis my decree, I pray he doth.

If he doth agree to the marriage of myself and this mystery king, then I hope I get a few days to say my farewells to my family and my kingdom, as it may perchance be the last time I behold them, for I assume I shall remove to his castle, rather than he dwelling here.

Dearest Pac.

The night passed and Pac awoke before sunrise, he changed into his official robes, running out of his chambers in fear of being late, before swiftly returning as he had forgotten his crown, something he would need if he was on official business, especially with a rival kingdom. 

King Cellbit was sat once again on his throne, and Pac took his place on his throne, one seat to his left, Mike typically sat between them, Bagi was also perched on her seat, wearing one of her royal gowns, and Mike walked in swiftly after Pac, Cellbit shook his head at Pac, silently informing him that he hadn’t told them the true visit of the Kingdom of 2b2t. 

They all sat awaiting their arrival, and Cellbit told everyone the plan for the day, Bagi and Mike would go to the hidden library with Richas, who was currently being guarded by Felps, while Pac sat in the meeting with him. Both Bagi and Mike protested, as Pac wasn’t even a crown prince, but Pac was the eldest so he got priority, is what Cellbit argued, but Pac knew it wasn’t the true reason that Cellbit chose him over the others. 

Pac had the opportunity to become King when he came of age, but he told his father he didn’t wish to until he died, and by the time the previous King died, Cellbit was of age, and took the throne, nobody protested but the agreement was that Pac was his adviser and assisted him in any and all major decisions for the Kingdom. 

The reason Cellbit had chosen Pac was because Pac was the most trustworthy person in the castle, and he looked it too, and well… Pac was the least likely to fuck up the agreement. Cellbit had informed both Bagi and Mike to speak solely in common as the other Kingdom would find it rude if they spoke in their mother tongue. 

A guard led the King of 2b2t and his royal advisor inside, followed by their own guard. The royal advisor bowed to Cellbit but the king made no move to. 

“Welcome to Favela,” Cellbit greeted.

“I render thanks to thee,” The adviser smiled.

“If you shall follow myself and Prince Pac, we shall lead you to the meeting room.

“I suppose I should introduce my staff,” the King said, whilst following, “This is my adviser Philza, my guard Etoiles, and I am King Fit of 2b2t, although I am sure you know of me,”

“We do,” Cellbit said through gritted teeth.

“But we are delighted to meet you personally,” Pac smiled, nudging Cellbit in the side.

They walked through the castle halls until they reached the grand meeting room, inside was a table, with approximately thirty chairs. There were banners of surrounding Kingdoms inside, Kingdoms which Cellbit had secured peace with, such as the Kingdom of Fools, led by King Foolish and the heir to the throne was Cellbit’s fiancé, or the Kingdom of Purgatory, led by King Aldo.

Upon sitting down, Philza got straight to business.

“I assume you do not wish for us to wage war, correct?”

“Correct,” Cellbit sat straight.

“Well, the only other way we settle this is with a marriage,” 

“Between who?” Pac asked.

“My liege here, and a prince of your king’s choice,”

“And there is no other way you are willing to settle this?” Cellbit asked, “Not through an alliance or something else,”

“An alliance gets us nowhere,” King Fit spoke up, “Your Kingdom has the power of all the other kingdoms, having an alliance with each, and your land has resources,”

“And you want this power?” Cellbit asked.

“Well of course,”

“So, you are willing to go to war for it?” Pac asked.

“I will do what I must,” Fit said.

“Even if it risks leaving your son fatherless?” 

“Pac,” Cellbit panicked.

“No, no, Cellbit let me finish, Fit, I’ve done my research, you have a son, Ramon, is it?”

“Yes, and you best leave him alone,”

“I’m not threatening him, you are,”

“Explain,” he spat.

“Well, you are assuming your army beats ours, what if it doesn’t, our guards wouldn’t hesitate to take your head, and I assume you don’t wish for your son to become King at such a young age,”

“No, I don’t, but I shall repeat myself, marriage or war,”

“Did you or your adviser choose this?” Cellbit asked.

“My adviser, but I trust him fully, and have listened to his reasoning, which I do agree with,”

“I’m sorry Cellbit but I have a few more questions for his majesty over there,”

“Fire away Pac,”

“So… if we did agree to a marriage, you are willing to have an arranged marriage yourself?”

“Yes, I don’t require love, whatever is best for my kingdom and son,”

“So, you risk war, and you are willing to give up your chance for love all for more power?”

“Yes.”

“Okay…  if we did agree to a fake marriage, who would know the truth?”

“I would, King Cellbit would, Philza would, whoever marries me, you would, and one of my servants who will serve whoever marries me,”

“And how would you make the marriage convincing to those who don’t know?”

“We’d follow the customs of both Kingdoms,” Philza said.

“And Prince Pac, I find it odd that you call your king by his name and not title,” Fit laughed, “Why is that?”

“I am his brother, and the rightful heir to the throne, I am higher up of the social hierarchy than he is,”

“And yet you are a prince,” Cellbit smirked, “But, King Fit, do not be fooled, I am only the public image of King, Pac deserves it more, and works harder, having the true duties of a king, he just wished to stay out of the spotlight,”

“So, marriage or war?” Philza asked.

“May I have a word with my brother?” Cellbit asked.

“You have five minutes,” Fit scoffed.

Cellbit practically dragged Pac out of the room panicking, he really wasn’t sure of what to do, if they declared war a lot of people would die and the chances were that Favela would lose, sure they had a strong army but 2b2t had a stronger one. Cellbit began to hyperventilate.

“Cellbit,”

“...”

“Cellbit?”

“...”

“Cellbit, eu preciso que você respire,” (I need you to breathe)

“Desculpe, eu simplesmente não sei o que fazer,” (Sorry I just don’t know what to do,)

“Eu tenho uma ideia, mas você não vai gostar,” (I have an idea, but you aren’t going to like it)

“Apenas me diga,” (Just tell me)

“Eu vou me casar com ele,” (I’m going to marry him)

“Não,” 

“Apenas ouça, meu papel como príncipe é proteger meu reino, bem, estou fazendo exatamente isso,” (Just listen, my role as a prince is to protect my kingdom, well, I'm doing just that)

“Você não veria mais nenhum de nós, seria enviado para outro reino, perderia seu livre arbítrio,” (You wouldn't see any more of us, you'd be sent to another realm, you'd lose your free will)

“Eu sei,” (I know)

“Eu não posso deixar você ir,” (I can’t let you go)

“Você prefere me ter vivo e casado ou morto?” (Would you rather have me alive and married or dead?)

“Vivo…” (Alive…)

“Diga a eles que concordamos com o casamento, mas temos que fazer um contrato primeiro,” (Tell them we agreed to the marriage, but we have to make a contract first)

“Tudo bem, mas Pac, eu realmente aprecio você e, ao mesmo tempo, odeio você por isso,” (Alright, but Pac, I really appreciate you and at the same time hate you for it)

“Eu também te amo,” (I love you too)

“Vá encontrar Mike e Bagi, diga a eles, eu vou lidar com esses caras,” (Go find Mike and Bagi, tell them, I'm going to deal with these guys)

Pac ran, he ran faster than he had ever run in his life, almost crashing into multiple servants, obviously he apologised, he was a prince, not cruel. He ran to the secret library, and pushed Felps aside, running to hold his son in an embrace. Richas struggled against his father’s grip but eventually he relaxed into it. 

Both Bagi and Mike were immediately concerned, nobody left a meeting with a foreign king without there being an issue, and if that didn’t make it the fact there was an issue clear, Pac’s tears certainly did. 

Eventually Pac let Richas go, and Bagi sank to his level, giving him a hug herself. She allowed him to cry into her royal gown, despite her quite liking this one. Pac knew that she knew the issue was serious, and he would be the one to tell them, not Cellbit, which meant he had to figure out how to tell Mike of his marriage without Mike immediately storming to the meeting room and killing both his own king and the king of 2b2t. 

“Pac, o que há de errado??” Bagi asked, voice stern. (Pac, what’s wrong?)

“Felps, tranque a porta, e levar Richas para meus aposentos” Pac ordered. (Felps, lock the door and take Richas to my chambers)

“Sim, meu príncipe,” (Yes, my prince)

“Pac, o que está acontecendo?” Mike asked. (Pac, what is going on?)

“O rei de 2b2t, ele havia declarado guerra ou casamento,” (The king of 2b2t, he had declared war or marriage)

“Cellbit vai consertar, não se preocupe,” Bagi smiled (Cellbit will fix it, don't worry)

“Ele não pode... então eu me ofereci,” (He can’t… so I volunteered)

“NO CASAMENTO?” Mike yelled (IN MARRIAGE?)

“Sim,”

“Cellbit não aceitou, não é?” Bagi asked. (Cellbit didn’t accept it, did he?)

“Sim, Mikey, por favor, não fique bravo,” (Mikey, please don't get mad)

“Você acabou de vender sua vida, claro que estou chateado,” (You have just sold your life, of course I’m upset)

“Pelo nosso Reino,” (For our Kingdom)

“Onde está esse rei?” (Where is this King?)

“Eu não estou lhe dizendo, e você não tem permissão para sair desta sala até que ele saia,” Pac stated (I'm not telling you, and you're not allowed to leave this room until he leaves)

“Eu sou o príncipe herdeiro, você é apenas um príncipe, você não me comanda,” (I am the crown prince, you are just a prince, you do not command me)

“Você pode ser um príncipe herdeiro, mas eu era o príncipe herdeiro antes de você, antes de Cellbit e antes de Bagi,” (You may be a crown prince, but I was the crown prince before you, before Cellbit, and before Bagi)

“Ninguém além de você e da Cellbit sabe como isso funciona,” Bagi said(No one but you and Cellbit knows how this works)

“Cellbit é rei, mas eu assumo deveres reais, e se eu quisesse, poderia dizer a ele que queria ser rei e então eu seria, eu tenho prioridade sobre ele,” (Cellbit is king, but I take on royal duties, and if I wanted to, I could tell him I wanted to be king and then I would be, I have priority over him)

“Então você é tecnicamente rei, mas não oficialmente?” Mike asked. (So, you're technically king, but not officially?)

“Sim,”

“Se você se casar com este rei, o que acontecerá com o nosso reino sem você?” Bagi asked. (If you marry this king, what will happen to our kingdom without you?)

“Você e Mike terão que intensificar e ajudar a Cellbit,” (You and Mike will have to step up and help Cellbit)

“Ele não vai se casar com o rei bárbaro,” Mike spat. (He will not marry the barbarian king)

“Você não tem voz no assunto,” (You have no say in the matter)

“Quanto tempo nos resta para dizer adeus?” Bagi asked, sorrow casting a shadow over her face. (How much time do we have left to say goodbye?)

“Eu não sei…” (I don’t know)

“Eu terminei, deixe-me sair desta sala, sua majestade,” Mike said, voice laced with poison and hatred. (I'm done, let me out of this room, your majesty)

“Não, Bagi, confio em você para manter Mike sob controle, por favor, nenhum de vocês diga a Richas,” (No, Bagi, I trust you to keep Mike under control, please, none of you tell Richas)

Pac left the room, locking it behind him, leaving both Mike and Bagi trapped in the room, Felps was with Richas, so Pac knew his son was safe. He’d go and unlock the door once King Fit had left the castle. 

Cellbit walked back into the room, where Fit and Philza were still sitting. They questioned his presence without Pac, he simply said he’d sent him to speak to the other princes, and the two accepted it. 

They asked him if he’d reached a decision yet, he nodded. He didn’t speak to them, instead whispering to one of his guards to retrieve his book and quill to create a contract, but neither of the others heard. 

Once his guard returned, Cellbit set down the book and quill on the table, and placed his crown, off of his own head, down next to it, the action was copied by King Fit, who placed his own crown down on top of the table. 

“Your decision?” Philza asked, beginning to feel impatient.

“You will marry my brother Prince Pac,” Cellbit sighed.

“Then why had he left, if it is his marriage you are arranging?” Philza asked.

“And what if I don’t want him, he seemed to disrespect you, I won’t have him disrespect me,” Fit said.

“He won’t, I can assure you that, but I am not just handing him over to you, there will be a contract,”

“Of course, as there must be,” Philza smirked, “But we will included terms for both Kingdoms,”

“No abuse, you even so much as lay a hand on him, and he will return and all the kingdoms will reign war on you,” Cellbit stated.

“I deem that just,” Fit said.

“Prince Pac must come live in 2b2t,” Philza said.

“Fine…” Cellbit grit his teeth, “He is permitted communication to us here though,”

“Fine,” Philza said.

“No infidelity, you chose the marriage, you aren’t allowed to go and cheat on him, in any way shape or form,” 

“Agreed, and vice versa for him too,” Fit said.

“You will make your best efforts to give him comfort,”

“We may be known as the barbaric kingdom but we aren’t monsters,” Philza showed offence.

“”Visitation-”

“When I permit it,” Fit cut in, “He may visit when I permit it, it’s a two-day ride between kingdoms, too much for frequent visits,”

“When he wishes,” Cellbit argued.

“No, when I permit it, else he’d spend his entire time in Favela, and that is a deal breaker,”

“Fine, when you permit it,”

“Is he fluent in common?” Philza asked.

“Yes, all my brothers are, every prince here is raised to learn all languages, common, Portuguese, Spanish, etcetera,”

“Then he must speak common in our presence,” 

Chapter Text

The Kingdom of 2b2t was known for being ruthless, for starting and ending wars, that being said, Fit didn’t enjoy war, nor did he actively seek it out. His adviser, Philza, did though, he sought it out, not for enjoyment but to secure the safety and power of 2b2t, and he trusted Philza fully, so he listened and agreed to him when he suggested war or marriage. 

King Fit had been married before, to King consort Spreen but the man disappeared one day, and was discovered to have left of his own volition, so Fit ended the marriage, and his life. Fit doubted the Kingdom of Favela would want war, which would end in his second marriage, to a prince he’d never met, it would be awkward, and Fit wouldn’t have to interact with him much, just in public.

Etoiles, his head guard, was preparing his and Philza’s bags along with some of the servants, he didn’t care much for their names. They were going to the Kingdom of Favela, to find a solution to the current issue of 2b2t wanting power, admittedly Fit wished it wasn’t Favela as he knew how protective the King was over his siblings, he’d done his research, and he knew the king was engaged, the crown princess was engaged, which meant the two princes were left, and the crown prince was unavailable permanently, Fit assumed he was aromantic, which fair enough, which just left the prince, which would be the person with the least power and connection to Favela, as he was far down the line of succession, only in third, which might seem close to some but when the people above you are younger, it basically means you have no rights to the throne. 

“Are you ready, your majesty?” Philza asked.

“Yes, are you?” 

“I am indeed,”

“Then we shall set off,”

“It’s a two-day trip,”

“I am aware, Counsellor Philza,”

“Yes your highness, I apologise,”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Of course,”

“And one to boot if the negotiation falters and I be not wed,”

“One for strife, yes,”

“And what if we loseth said conflict?”

“We won’t,”

“Hast thou, or hast thou not a plan should our strife be lost and I shouldst perish?,”

“Ramon takes the throne,”

“Yes, and?”

“I do not,”

“You best start, while we travel,”

“Shall we not be on horseback?”

“We shall, so thou must fetch thy wits about it,” 

“Must we discourse so formal-like, my sovereign?”

“We must counsel, there be eager listeners encompassing us,”

“And when we are on horseback?”

“I shall reconsider,”

“I shall inquire if Etoiles hath concluded the bestowal of our appurtenances,”

“Make great haste,”

Philza left the room, leaving Fit alone, well him and the servants listening in to their conversation, otherwise both himself and his adviser wouldn’t have spoken so formally. They’d known each other for multiple years and were indeed very close. 

Fit went to his son’s room, preparing to say goodbye as he’d be away for a week or so, not entirely sure, depending on King Cellbit’s decision, if it were conflict he wished, then Fit would return within mere days before vanishing again for however long it took to secure victory or death.

Ramon, the crown prince, was in his room with his tutor, studying geography, specifically the five kingdoms, Favela, 2b2t, Purgatory, Federation and Fools. They were the richest of the kingdoms, both in monetary wealth and riches of the land, there were other minor kingdoms but they were at a lesser importance for Ramon to learn as he would control some, and the other kingdoms did too, hardly any were free lands with their own kings and queens. 

Fit walked in, and dismissed Ramon’s tutor, confusing Ramon entirely. He didn’t normally see his father during daylight, instead breaking his fast every sunrise with him and having dinner with him upon sunset. Despite Fit loving his son, he was too busy running a Kingdom to spend much time with the boy. 

“Ramon, my boy,”

“You are going away to Favela, either for war or marriage,”

“How did you-”

“Chayanne,”

“Ah, and Tallulah?”

“No, she doesn’t know, Chayanne looked in Philza’s notes,”

“Of course, so you understand then?”

“I do, but does this mean you will not love the man coming home with you?”

“I shall not love him, 'tis true,”

“Will I have to do that once I’m king?”

“Not if you choose not to,”

“Then why are you choosing to?”

“I am choosing to trust Counsellor Philza, and if that means I must be wed, then I must be wed, surely you understand my boy,”

“I do… but I wanted you to be happy and I wanted another dad,”

“This man won’t hate you Ramon, you can have him raise you alongside your tutors if you wish-”

“Why won’t you raise me? 

“Ramon my boy-”

“No, you have the time, belye not thy tongue,” Ramon attempted to be formal, using what he had learnt from his princely classes, “You spend your time in meetings with Counselor Philza where you inevitably agree with whatever he decrees,”

“‘Tis true but Ramon, I don’t always agree,”

“Then take me with you,”

“You aren’t mature enough,”

“I am plenty mature, I dealt with the execution of my father, did I not?”

“You did…”

“Please dad?” 

“Fine… once per moon, you shall be permitted to sit in on a discussion,”

“Thank you,”

“I shall betake myself away for a season, being uncertain of its length,”

“I know,”

“Once I return I want you to be able to speak more eloquently,”

“Yes, your majesty,”

“Ramon I may be your King but I am also your father, do not call me your majesty, you know this”

“Okay… bye dad,” Ramon said reluctantly.

The trip to Favela was the best part of three days, despite being a two-day trip, Philza had decided to stop multiple times in villages between the two kingdoms. He had informed King Cellbit of their arrival date, which eased Fit’s concern of tardiness.

Upon arriving in the Kingdom, Fit took in the pure beauty of it, the weather was beautiful although a bit too warm for the activity of riding horseback, in his opinion. They were close to the castle at that point, and Fit opted to hop off his horse and led the mare by her reins, Philza following in suit. 

They arrived in the castle, some guards having taken their horses to the stables, Etoiles deciding to stick with his King for his safety over the safety of the horses, despite knowing that Fit could protect himself, it was his duty after all. 

“Welcome to Favela,” the King greeted.

“I render thanks to thee,” Philza smiled.

“If you shall follow myself and Prince Pac, we shall lead you to the meeting room.

“I suppose I should introduce my staff,” the Fit said, whilst following, “This is my adviser Philza, my guard Etoiles, and I am King Fit of 2b2t, although I am sure you know of me,”

“We do,” King Cellbit said.

“But we are delighted to meet you personally,” Prince Pac smiled.

They followed the two men into their meeting room, all around the walls. Fit noticed peace offerings from other Kingdoms, such as the Kingdom of Fools, or the Kingdom of Purgatory or the Kingdom of the Federation, a kingdom not led by a king or queen.

They discussed for a while, before Philza pressured the opposing Kingdom to make a decision, both the King and his prince stepped outside to talk, Philza and Fit took this as an opportunity to talk just the two of them, plus Etoiles. 

“So… how are you feeling about this?” Philza asked.

“Speak we formal, good sir, as we be in public place,” Fit reprimanded. 

“I crave thy pardon, Your Grace, but what be thy conceits upon this matter?”

“I believe that the King desireth not to wed his kin away, and we may confront war here, but I also believe that his prince hath other thoughts, wherefore else would he inquire so greatly concerning matrimony,”

“If I might be so bold, my liege, King Fit,” Etoiles interrupted. 

“Speak ye,”

“I trow thou art most correct in thine account of Prince Pac, but wherefore should the King give ear unto him, if he be resolved to deny either of his brothers in marriage?,”

“In sooth, I be unsure, but I deem it mayhap be because he was the original heir apparent to the throne,” Fit stated.

“Perhaps thou art right, sirrah, but if I am not mistaken, we be lacking knowledge of whether we shall encounter battle or wedlock?” Philza asked.

“That is sooth,” 

“I have another question to aske, wherefore speaketh we so formally, alone but not before His Majesty Cellbit?”

“Inasmuch as His Majesty's mother tongue be not English or as we term it, Common, and upon our arrival he did charge us to speak in plain terms, hast thou forgotten?”

“Ah, that maketh sense. Are they almost finished? I'm sure their five minutes have run out.”

“Etoiles, ask for them to return,” Fit ordered.

Before Etoiles could leave the room, King Cellbit re-entered alone. He stated he was ready to speak of the arrangement, and that his brother was communicating with his other siblings. Both Kings placed their crowns on the table as a sign of respect. 

“Your decision?” Philza asked, beginning to feel impatient.

“You will marry my brother Prince Pac,” Cellbit sighed.

“That was not the outcoming which we did expecteth thee to deliver,” Fit said.

“I asked for simple terms, King Fit, whilst I do understand most of what you say I do not understand everything, and nor do my siblings and staff, it was a simple request,”

“My sincerest apologies for my King, but he is used to speaking formally, especially at formal events such as this,” Philza said.

“Then why had he left, if it is his marriage you are arranging?” Philza asked.

“And what if I don’t want him, he seemed to disrespect you, I won’t have him disrespect me,” Fit said.

“He won’t, I can assure you that, but I am not just handing him over to you, there will be a contract,”

“Of course, as there must be,” Philza smirked, “But we will included terms for both Kingdoms,”

“No abuse, you even so much as lay a hand on him, and he will return and all the kingdoms will reign war on you,” Cellbit stated.

“I deem that just,” Fit said.

“Prince Pac must come live in 2b2t,” Philza said.

“Fine… he is permitted communication to us here though,”

“Fine,” Philza grit his teeth.

“No infidelity, you chose the marriage, you aren’t allowed to go and cheat on him, in any way shape or form,” 

“Agreed, and vice versa for him too,” Fit said.

“You will make your best efforts to give him comfort,”

“We may be known as the barbaric kingdom but we aren’t monsters,” Philza showed offence.

“”Visitation-”

“When I permit it,” Fit cut in, “He may visit when I permit it, it’s a two-day ride between kingdoms, too much for frequent visits,”

“When he wishes,” Cellbit argued.

“No, when I permit it, else he’d spend his entire time in Favela, and that is a deal breaker,”

“Fine, when you permit it,” 

“Is he fluent in common?” Philza asked.

“Yes, all my brothers are, every prince here is raised to learn all languages of the five kingdoms, common, Portuguese, Spanish, etcetera,”

“Then he must speak common in our presence,” 

“But earlier you claimed to not be fluent,” Etoiles asked.

“Thank you Etoiles, care to explain Cellbit,” Fit stated.

“It’s King Cellbit to you, especially whilst you reside in my Kingdom, and I assure you Pac is the most fluent of all of us, in fact you could probably could have spoken formally in front of us two but it’s easier for my staff, such as servants and guards who aren’t as educated to understand simple terms,”

“You wish for your servants to know our business?” Philza asked.

“Not necessarily no, but I do value mine and my sibling’s safety, so my guards here have been listening in, just as your guard has, it seems only fair,”

“When will we be wed?” Fit asked.

“Two moons time?” Cellbit suggested.

“Sooner,” Philza stated.

“A moons time?”

“Fine… but Prince Pac does have to move in with King Fit, effective immediately,”

“Give us a week to say our goodbyes,” Cellbit said.

“A day,” Fit said.

“Four,”

“Two,”

“Three,”

“Deal,”

King Cellbit led Fit, Philza and Etoiles to their guest rooms, obviously giving the fanciest to Fit, out of respect. Etoiles carried in Fit’s satchels and Philza had carried in his crown from the meeting room as he got settled in his temporary room. 

Favela’s castle was a lot more decorated than his own, it was a lot more homely, he supposed because the monarchs were a family it made sense, whereas in his kingdom it was solely him and his son, who’s room wasn’t decorated despite Fit offering to do so.

His room contained a type of wood he didn’t recognise, probably native to Favela, but it was a nice shade of brown. Philza sat at the desk present in his room, re-reading the document that Cellbit had written to check for any tricks the King might have included.

“There is something he mentioneth not aloud, but it is to be assum'd anyway.” Philza stated.

“Read it to me howsoever,”

“It is our duty to refrain from assaulting the Kingdom of Favela whilst thou art engaged or wed to Prince Pac, and should we violate any terms of this accord, we vow not to carry out said assault.”

“I deem that just,”

“I assumed you would your majesty,”

“Hath thou aught else to inquire?”

“Yea, forsooth, there be a portion that doth avouch that an thou dost bar Prince Pac from visiting his kin at least once every dozen moons then the covenant shalt break.”

“I believe that be unfair, if our kingdom be occupied, I shall spare none of our guards or servingmen to escort Pac to his home, I shall commune with King Cellbit about this morrow.”

“Rightfully so,”

“I wouldst discourse of a matter with thee, naught to do with our present plight,”

“Yes your highness?”

“Chayanne and Tallulah, are they educated?”

“Well in sooth, I should scarce have thought otherwise,”

“Wouldst thou consider permitting me to join their studies with Ramon's, bestowing upon them the kingly education?”

“My Lord, pardon my query, yet wherefore?”

“Forasmuch as I have confidence that Ramon grows weary, having some companions studying amongst him would prove beneficial,”

“Wouldst thou, my lord, vouchsafe a princely tuition, which would work wonders for my kin,”

“Then is it settled, and Philza I do make apology for our formal conversations whilst we are in public, thou art my greatest friend and I trust thee deeply,”

“Verily, the sentiment is reciprocal,”

“I am right glad, once we repair to 2b2t we shall commune as ancient companions,”

“I have a question for thy, anent our current issue,”

“Proceed,”

“If Prince Pac the pact doth break, then war on Favela we shall make; but what befalls him, should he flee, from our realm's grip he shall not be free?”

“He wouldst not be able to flee hence… we simply execute him, make him an example,”

“Thou art not yclept the brutal king for naught,”

“I am not the only monarch to still employ execution, I merely utilize it the most,”

“I warrant, but upon thine own goodman?”

“He hath left me, he hath made his choice, 'tis not my fault he didst commit treason and attempt regicide whilst trying to depart,”

“Treason? Regicide?”

“Did I not tell thee, he hath hired an assassin to do me to death so he might be King in place of King consort; Etoiles hath saved my life,”

“He did what?”

“I would not dispatch one to their end when they have not transgressed, I am brutal, not cruel,”

“Art thou aware thou art called both brutal and cruel, prithee?”

“Of course, I am an old friend, dost rumours mean 'tis true?”

“Nay, 'tis plain as day not so, yet the common folk dost believe what they behold, not ever the verity,”

“They believeth what they art told, how dost thou think the witch trials didst proceed so far ere I did put an end to them,”

“I was not privy to any trials of witches,”

“'Twas whilst thou wert visiting the Kingdom of Fools, I reckon,”

“Verily, it maketh sense, I was simply taking delight in mine holiday with mine husband and children, not necessarily fix'd upon events transpiring in mine own realm,”

“Perchance thou shouldst have, for now we have a witch toiling within our castle, for our advantage,”

“What is her name, pray tell?”

“Niki, she ne'er went 'gainst us, and was tied to the stake, I managed to get to her in time, and I told the entire Kingdom to burn no more witches, as they might be of use to us,”

“What doth she aid us in?”

“Healing potions and harming draughts to lace our arrows and blades with,”

“Well, if this realm had not consented to the nuptial bonds, we might have assayed their mettle,”

“I am bound for rest anon, good Philza. I shall meet thee on the morrow, hither at sunrise, for I am desirous to acquaint myself further with my to be betrothed, and crave thy counsel and aid,”

“I shall be hither, is there aught else thou dost require from either myself or Etoiles?”

“Tell him to be hither at the same hour,”

“Yes, your majesty,”

Philza bowed and left the room. Fit got himself into his sleeping garments and lay down to rest on his bed. He knew he’d have to send a letter back to his servants to prepare a room for Prince Pac but he’d just instruct Philza to do it in the morning.

Chapter Text

Once King Fit, his adviser Philza and guard had all been given guest rooms, Pac allowed Mike to leave the hidden library. They both went to sleep in their respective rooms after that. Pac was awoken early by his King knocking on his door. 

He arose from his bed and walked over to greet his King, still in his nightly garments, much to his King’s disappointment but in all fairness, the sun hadn’t risen, but yet most of the castle had. Apparently Pac was to break his fast with his future husband, accompanied by Cellbit, Bagi and Mike, Felps guarding them, which would be tense as Mike certainly was not happy with either Cellbit or Pac at the moment. 

Before the meal, the royal family would meet in the throne room for a discussion, to explain everything in great detail to all members, excluding Richas, as not even Pac wanted their son to know his fate. 

“Troque de roupa e use sua coroa,” (Change clothes and wear your crown)

“O que devo usar prata ou ouro?” (What should I wear silver or gold?)

“O prateado combina melhor com você,” (Silver suits you better)

Cellbit left the room allowing Pac to change. Pac changed into his robes, silver and blue to match his crown. Each member of the Favela royal family had their own colour palette, Pac’s was blue and silver, Mike’s was rose gold and green, Richas’ was gold and green, Bagi’s was rose gold and pink, and Cellbit’s was bronze and green. 

Pac walked along the corridors of his home, he didn’t know how many more times he’d get to see them, so he took it all in, from the carpets he and Mike stained as kids but their parents didn’t have the heart to remove, to the portraits of the family and the smiles of the servants he walked past.

Pac walked into the throne room, not expecting to see Richas, yet being pleasantly surprised when the boy ran up to him. Pac grabbed him by the underarm and lifted him into the air, spinning the boy around. 

Mike rolled his eyes, arms crossed, slouched on his throne. He looked at Pac disapprovingly, but couldn’t hold back a smile as Richas giggled, everyone in the room knew it was bittersweet, and would be one of the last times Pac saw Richas.

Eventually Pac put Richas down and Felps led him out of the room, probably into his tutoring, he was due to be the prince one day, even if he wasn't technically the crown prince. 

“Tenho certeza de que todos vocês sabem por que estamos aqui,” (I'm sure you all know why we're here)

“Eu não vejo por que temos que ser,” Mike grumbled. (I don't see why we have to be)

“Você prefere ir para a guerra?” Cellbit countered. (Would you rather go to war?)

“SIM, em vez de dar a mão de Pac em casamento,” (YES, instead of giving Pac's hand in marriage)

“Você ao menos considerou métodos alternativos? Bagi asked. (Have you even considered alternative methods?)

“Você acha que eu não considerei soluções alternativas?” (Do you think I haven’t considered alternate solutions?)

“Se você acha que este é o melhor, então claramente não,” Mike spat. (If you think this is the best, then clearly not)

“Não fale com seu rei dessa maneira,” Pac defended. (Don't talk to your king that way)

“Eu estava disposto a ir à guerra por causa disso, o rei da paz disposto a ir à guerra,” Cellbit stated. (I was willing to go to war because of it, the king of peace willing to go to war)

“Não é a paz de Pac,” Mike rolled his eyes. (Not Pac’s peace)

“Mike cale a boca, era você ou eu ou guerra, eu prefiro que você esteja vivo e não te veja do que você estar morto,” (Mike shut up, it was you or me or war, I'd rather you be alive and not see you than you be dead)

“Mas Pacey-”

“Não, Mike, você prefere que eu morra? Cellbit morto? Bagi? Richas?” (No Mike, would you prefer me dead? Cellbit dead? Bagi? Richas?)

“Eu preferiria o casamento…” Mike reluctantly agreed. (I would prefer the marriage…)

“Vou me casar com esse rei, e isso é definitivo, não seja um pé no saco para a Cellbit, foi minha escolha,” (I'm going to marry this king, and that's definitive, don't be a pain in the arse for Cellbit, it was my choice)

Pac walked to the kitchens, and prepared some food for Richarlyson, with help of some of the cooks. He then delivered it to Richas’ room and sat with the boy as he ate, Richas lent against his chest. Pac smiled, the feeling bittersweet and he supposed he’d feel that emotion a lot over the next coming days, today was day one of three, not that he knew it yet, of his last days in Favela. 

After Richarylson had finished his food he found his way to the dining room, where both Mike and Bagi were stood outside. Inside he heard speaking, in common or English, most of the Kingdoms spoke English hence why it was often called common, Pac knew that his son didn’t speak English well enough yet but he was getting lessons, everyone else in the royal family knew an acceptable amount, Cellbit and himself knowing the most. 

Cellbit walked up to them all with a confused look, questioning why none of them had entered the room, he led them all inside and they all sat in their respective seats. 

“Good morning,” Philza greeted.

“It’s our pleasure,” Cellbit smiled.

“Prazer? Ele está falando sério?” Mike frowned. (Pleasure? Is he serious?)

“Mike, English only when we have guests, you know this,” Cellbit scolded.

“I apologise your majesty,” 

“It’s quite alright, I don’t suppose he imagined his brother being wed, I understand the frustrations,” Philza stated.

“Do you?” Mike spat.

“Mike get your act together,” Pac stated, “You may be upset but it’s not your marriage, grow up,”

“Forgive me, for my brother’s cruel words,” Cellbit said.

“It is quite alright,” Fit smirked, “So will you be ready to leave in three days?”

“Que?” Pac asked, “Sorry what?”

“Leaving in three days, today, tomorrow, and the morrow after the morrow,”

“Cellbit?”

“That was something we agreed upon,”

“Not even a week?”

“I tried,”

“Your king does not lie, but we must get back to 2b2t,” Philza stated.

“I suppose I will be ready,”

“King Cellbit?” Fit asked.

“Yes?”

“In the covenant thou hast penned, there is a portion that I do not agree with,”

“Do tell,”

“It states that Prince Pac shall visit at a minimum once every dozen moons but if my Kingdom is occupied I would not be able to spare the staff to accompany him home,”

“We could send someone,” Mike said.

“Silence thy lips,” Cellbit stated, “If we do not have a limit you might refrain from Pac ever visiting home,”

“Add it to the contract that I have to agree but not give a limit, my kingdom is once of great importance and is henceforth very busy, Philza hand over the contract,”

Philza gave Cellbit the contract, and Cellbit crossed out the section he had previously written and instead wrote what they had agreed upon in the current moment. Everyone watched as he did so. 

Many servants walked out of the kitchen delivering food, originating from many different Kingdoms. Eventually everyone had food placed in front of them, and as Cellbit took his first bite everyone else did too, as it was custom for the King to eat first, especially when visitors were visiting.

“When is Pac’s wedding?” Bagi asked

“In a moon’s time,” Philza answered.

“A moon? That’s far too soon,” Mike protested.

“Mike, I’m literally moving in with him in three days, a moon is plenty of time compared to that,” Pac said. 

“This is all moving too fast,” 

“Why aren’t you giving this time, King Fit?” Bagi asked.

“I am not entirely sure, you’d have to ask my adviser, I trust him fully, whatever he says I listen to, within reason of course,” King Fit stated.

“Then Philza, why aren’t we allowing Pac more time?” 

“Because your Kingdom is gaining power at a dangerously fast rate, and because we need to return to 2b2t, both my liege and I have children to return to,”

“A single moon to plan a royal wedding is hardly any time,” Bagi said.

“We’ll manage,” King Fit said.

“It’s Pac’s wedding just as much as it is yours, if you think your Kingdom gets to plan it all you are blind,” 

“Bagi, be polite,” Cellbit scolded, “King Fit, I apologise for my siblings, they are not being very princely or ladylike right now,”

“It’s quite alright, I do hope for your sake they learn though,” King Fit stated.

“I would like Bagi to plan the wedding,” Pac said quietly. 

“What was that?” Philza asked.

“I would like Bagi to plan the wedding, or at least collaborate with your planners,”

“I think that can be arranged,” Philza said, “My liege?”

“Sure, but only via letter, as we do not have room to accommodate another guest,”

“Is your castle small?” Mike asked, “Sorry, that came out ruder than I meant,”

“So, you still meant it to be rude?” Philza asked.

“Phil not everything the crown prince says is against me, and no we have guests visiting from the Kingdom of Federation,”

“Oh really? King Cucurucho?” Cellbit asked.

“Yes, and crown princess Elena, and their royal entourage,”

“Well of course,” Cellbit smiled.

Pac sat in the castle gardens, laying in Mike’s lap as he watched Richas paint. It was a habit they had all picked up, a mid-morning stroll in the garden, except they always ended the stroll with Richas painting and Pac and Mike laughing to each other. 

Felps was with them, he’d been informed of what time to take Pac to meet King Fit, apparently he had to get to know his new husband, despite only having three days left with his family. He wasn’t mad at Cellbit, he knew his King was put in an impossible situation, and in Cellbit’s defence Pac did volunteer, but he really did not want to be wed. 

Apparently he was supposed to have a meeting with King Fit, alone, if you excluded Felps and Etoiles, but they wouldn’t speak. That was another thing to think about for Pac, he’d get new guards and servants, one’s who he didn’t know their names, one’s who might not joke or be friends with him. 

“Como você está se sentindo?” Mike asked. (How are you feeling)

“Assustado, ansioso, nervoso,” (Scared, anxious, nervous)

“Isso é justo, eu vou sentir sua falta, todos nós vamos,” (That's fair, I'm going to miss you, we all will)

“Eu gostaria que o rei não fosse egoísta,” (I wish the king wasn't selfish)

“Por que ele quer o poder do nosso Reino, temos alianças, não especificamente poder?” (Why does he want the power of our Kingdom, we have alliances, not specifically power?)

“Poucos se aliariam ao cruel Rei,” (Few would ally themselves with the cruel King)

“Suponho que seja verdade,” (I suppose that’s true)

“Eu gostaria de poder ver Richas crescer,” (I wish I could see Richas grow up)

“O que vamos dizer a Richas?” (What are we going to tell Richas?)

“Diga a ele que eu me casei, não diga a ele que foi arranjado,” (Tell him I got married, don't tell him it was arranged)

“Príncipe Pac, é hora de ir,” Felps interrupted. (Prince Pac, it's time to go)

“Tchau Mikey,”

“Tchau Pacey,”

Pac walked through the halls of his home, mindlessly following his guard, who was leading him to a room, which one he wasn’t sure, but he could rule out some, such as the ballroom. 

He brought this on himself, and couldn’t blame anyone but himself… actually that was a lie, he could blame both King Fit and his adviser, if they hadn’t threatened his Kingdom he would still be free, and wouldn’t have to marry him. 

He apparently was meeting King Fit in the meeting room, and they’d go for a stroll, or at least that’s what Felps was informing him.

“Ah, Prince Pac, nice of you to join me,” King Fit said sarcastically. 

“We got lost,” 

“In your own castle?”

“Fuck,”

“Profanity, from a prince, I am astonish’d,”

“My apologies King Fit,”

“O fret not, for in mine own kingdom all do swear, yet I did not look for such from a prince of a foreign realm,”

“I was apologising for lying, not swearing,”

“Lying, forsooth? 'Tis not a virtuous beginning for a marriage,”

“Perhaps that is true but our marriage will not be one of love,”

“Thou art quite blunt in thy choice of words, is this how thou speakest to thy sovereign?”

“I speak to you just as I speak to anybody, regardless of rank, as I may not be able to once we are wed, I do not know the customs of your Kingdom, nor do I know the rules you will place for me,”

“Oh, shit, I forgot you don’t speak formally, I apologise for way of speaking,”

“I can speak with courtly grace, I am well-versed in thy tongue, I hath taken lessons, judge me not by my realm but by mine own virtue and learning,”

“If thou canst speak with courtly grace, why dost thou not?”

“'Tis easier, is't not? Besides, it aideth mine brothers and sister to comprehend the discourse,”

“Is King Cellbit not as well educated as thou?”

“Thou wouldst do well to not affront the King, but nay, I had a longer education as a crown prince than he, but he is very much so fluent in thy tongue, and can speak as formally as I, we just prefer to not, for speaking formally maketh us feel less like kin,”

“Dost thou wish to take a stroll whilst we converse?”

Both King Fit, Prince Pac, and their guards began to stroll the castle grounds.

“Verily, I am not against it, but what shall we discourse upon? I am certain thou dost not wish to speak of mine education,”

“I knoweth nothing of thy customs, thou knowest nothing of mine, how about we starteth there?”

“Which customs, those of matrimony?”

“Well, aye, how dost thou propose?”

“Withal, a ring in royal custom, adorn'd with jewels, verily,”

“In mine Kingdom, we do propose with custom arms, wrought by hand of the proposer,”

“Like a dagger?”

“Anon, if 'tis thy desire, though it varieth from daggers, to bows, to long swords,”

“Does the proposer choose the weapon?”

“Normally they inquire of their beloved what weapon they hold most dear,”

“Are you inquiring?”

“I shall anon, prithee tell, how dost thou select thy gems?”

“For royals it is typically within their colour palette,”

“And for you that would be?”

“Blue and silver,”

“Wherefore? How dost thou receiveth assign'd the hues?”

“As a child, one is analys'd by others, for their skin's hue, hair's shade, and eyes' tint, to ascertain two colours,”

“Is that the reason thou dost wear only those hues?”

“Well, all mine official raiment for royal duties contained those colours, but when I weareth more common attire, nay,”

“And when thou joinest me in mine Kingdom, dost thou wish to continue this tradition?”

“Yes, I do like both silver and blue,”

“And thy crown dost thou wish to take that with thee?”

“I believe that is thy choice, is't not?”

“I am bestowing upon thee the option,”

“I am to be King consort once we art wedded, correct?”

“Well yes,”

“Am I not in need of a crown then, perchance?”

“You are,”

“Then shall I keep mine own, 'tis cheaper,”

“My realm is not in want, thou needst not fret upon't,”

“I am not troubl'd, not squandering coin would be best for both of our Realms, a wedding, especially one of royalty, is costly,”

“May I inquire wherefore thou desirest that crown Princess Bagi shouldst plan a part of our nuptials?”

“She wilt bring part of our culture to the wedding so it be not solely thine, and perchance I shall feel more at ease,”

“Art thou troubled by a want of comfort?”

“I shall be in a Kingdom I hath ne'er ventured to afore, speaking formally in a tongue that is not mine own mother's, no longer encompass'd by mine own family and friends. I shall know no person, neither the guards, nor the servants, only thee and thy adviser, whom of which I scarcely know. I highly doubt I shall be at ease,”

“Is't that for which thou dost speak in a formal manner now?”

“As practice, yes,”

“Thou dost well at it, and I comprehend thy concerns; mine servants shall strive to support thee with all their might,”

“Thy comforting words hold small import to me, for I know myself and mine own feelings, and it shall come to pass, despite any endeavour thou makest to prevent it,”

“Dost thou desire to learn the names of thy servant and guard?”

“Wherefore not?”

“Thy servant is named Tubbo and thy guard shall be a man called Bad,”

“Such quaint names, is that custom in thy country?”

“Yea, but thou must confess the names in thy Kingdom art not common neither,”

“I suppose,”

“My son, he wilt desire to meet thee, art thou good with children?”

“I am, knoweth he of the verity?”

“He knoweth, but he desireth a father, after his first were put to death, and well I am unavailable most times,”

“Put to death?”

“Executed,”

“For what reason?”

“Treason and attempted regicide,”

“Regicide, did he attempt to slay thee?”

“Not himself, he hath engaged an assassin, my guard hither, Etoiles, hath saved mine life and for that I am most grateful,”

“Is Etoiles thy most excellent guard?”

“Yes,”

“Why not have him guard thy son, then?”

“I do, when I am not upon a journey,”

“I shall return to mine family anon, for I desire to spend my last few days in Favela, with them,”

“Farewell, Prince Pac, I shall see thee on the morrow,”

“Farewell,”

Pac walked away, towards Richarlyson’s tutor room, he wanted to spend time with his son before not being allowed to watch the boy grow up, as far as he was aware King Fit did not know of Richas’ existence, which almost guaranteed the rest of the five kingdoms didn’t either, as Pac could tell that King Fit did research about Favela, maybe not their customs but certainly about their family. 

Once inside Richas’ tutor room he dismissed Richas’ tutor, allowing the man to have a rest before continuing to teach the restless boy about the history of the five Kingdoms. The boy was incredibly confused about why there was a foreign kingdom visiting, especially since it did not occur often, and it meant he had to hide. Not even Cellbit’s fiancé knew about Richas, not yet, but Cellbit knew it wouldn’t matter as his fiancé had a kid of his own. 
Pac had decided he wouldn’t tell King Fit about his son until his son’s identity was revealed when he comes of age at eighteen. 

Chapter Text

Fit was growing tired of Favela, he hadn’t been able to fully rest in the Kingdom, despite the promise of his marriage, he still felt unease at the fact he could be attacked. He did lie in wakeful slumber at the hour of night, unable to get rest. His sword had remained sealed in it’s sheath, as his poniard abideth fast to his side, shrowded by his raiment.

He sent a letter to his son, sent via Philza’s well trained crows, it was how his Kingdom conversed with others, and it was extremely effective. As a King he knew his son came second to his Kingdom but he wished he was able to give Ramon more attention, and He did behold the woe in Ramon's gaze as he left his son for his duties. 

He had two days left in Favela, and was permitted to stroll around the courtyards of the castle, accompanied by Etoiles. 

“Etoiles, my loyal ward, what is thy view of the situation?” he asked.

“Which troth, my king?”

“I wist not that we had plural,”

“Verily, earlier thou speakest of thy son, and his desire to tarry more oft with thee, whereas our other matter concerneth thy nuptial union,”

“I maketh inquiry touching the marriage contract, albeit I do acknowledge thy discernment of our lesser concerns,”

“I am grateful for the sacrifice thou maketh for thy kingdom, but I do question if 't be needful. Thou didst desire alliance, and haply the Kingdom of Favela would have granted it to thee without menace. But I am not Philza, and I know not much of these matters,”

“A most singular perspective, if I may make bold, yet gratefully received, as, being captain of my royal guard, art thou able to prepare the residue of the guard in time for the nuptials?”

“Once I gain full assurance of our intended course, then aye, until then I may only counsel others as to whose safety to prioritize,”

“I shall see to it that our planners, albeit Philza and Bagi, as the lone twain names I now wot of, inform thee,”

“Good my liege, doth thou know what be Ramon's affections toward the espousal?”

“He desired another father, alas, he knoweth this is not a marriage of love, but I am assured by Prince Pac that he is good with children, so perchance Ramon may obtain another tutor or caretaker such as thyself,”

“'Tis a pity, and a sorrow of his own sire, but he hath brought his doom upon himself,”

“I owe my life unto thee, I do have a question of import unto thee, concerning other matters,”

“What is thy question? I shall answer to the best of mine ability,”

“Thou dost not speak English as thy mother tongue, dost thou?”

“Nay, I speaketh French as mine mother tongue, mayhap I should ask wherefore thou didst ask?”

“Prince Pac, he speaketh Portuguese as a native tongue, but he didst tell mine own his family speaketh not formally around each other, is this normal in Kingdoms and tongues not mine own?”

“In mine own original Kingdom, we didst not converse formally amongst kin, but to those of royal standing, we did, as I couldst, if I did so desire, speak formally in French,”

“Art thou teaching Ramon this?”

“Simple and not formally when he was younger, but as he hath aged, I have increased the difficulty,”

“And what sorts of things hast thou taught him?”

“May I discourse in mine native tongue?”

“For now,”

“Je lui ai appris à communiquer avec les rois des royaumes mineurs, comment maintenir la paix, menacer de guerre et créer des contrats” (I taught him how to communicate with the kings of the minor kingdoms, how to keep the peace, threaten war, and create contracts)

“And translated to the King's tongue?”

“I taught'st him how t' commune with kings of lesser realms, how t' keep the peace, threaten war, and forge contracts,”

“My gratitude doth flow, for his education surpasseth mine own, a matter of import,”

“Art thou not the bastard King? 'Twas not expected thou wouldst have a Kingly education,”

“My father, the King ere me, did cuckold the queen and I was originally brought up by my mother, but when my father passed without an heir, I did receive the throne despite mine scant education, hence me seeking Philza's support,”

“Didst not Philza once hold the title of King of Purgatory?”

“He did, and still be the King of Purgatory, he left Aldo in chargeth for his leave of many decades, he shall return to his throne anon,”

“What is his present title?”

“Counsellor of King Fit, and the Kingdom of 2b2t,”

“If we have his support, wherefore do we need the Kingdom of Favela's support?”

“Forasmuch as despite the Realm of Purgatory being most mighty, it might crumble, as might our Realm, we must assure our safety,”

Over Fit’s next few days in Favela, he would have a few meetings with the King, about the wedding and Prince Pac’s conditions for the rest of his life, whether that ended in natural causes or execution, Fit was not quite. 

His adviser Philza had sent multiple letters back to the castle, to Missa, who was currently in charge of the Kingdom, in Fit’s absence, to Ramon, informing him of the marriage and to the head of the servants, to prepare a room for Prince Pac. 

Philza led him to the meeting room, where he was scheduled to speak to Prince Pac again, for his living conditions, unfortunately King Cellbit was unavailable for reasons that were not disclosed to him, which he found strange, but he was told the King would be joining them in an hour after. 

He walked inside and Prince Pac was sat down, whispering to his guard, in his native tongue, something Fit found both interesting and annoying.

“O King Fit, I crave thy pardon, I did not perceive thee and thy counselor hadst entered,”

“Thou art pardoned, a simple error I have made full oft,”

“We have come hither to discourse upon the conditions of Prince Pac his life” Philza began, “Shall we betake ourselves unto the commencement?”

“We shall,” Fit said, “Hath thou aught questioneth?”

“No,” Prince Pac shook his head.

“Okay then, I’ll start,” Philza stated, “Thou shalt have a chamber in the west wing of the castle.”

“Shalt he not be i' the east wing?” Fit asked.

“That is where thou and Ramon slumber, my Lord, art thou certain?”

“The common folk shall be curious, should they not? As shall the servants and guards,”

“I suppose thou speakest sooth, which chamber shall I dedicate unto him?”

“The azure chamber,”

“Blue?” Prince Pac asked.

“Hath thou affection for thy hues, in very truth?” Fit asked, “Thou didst tell me thou wouldst continue that tradition,”

“Yea, that be trueth, I did not look for thee to recall it all,”

“And his serving-man and sentinel shall be?” Philza asked.

“Tubbo and Bad,”

“Thou recallest their names?” Philza asked.

“What manner of King were I, if I didde not?”

“What rules be there for myself to obey?” Pac asked.

“I have here a scroll, it includeth, no departing the castle sans express leave and a guard or knave, wander not the castle, most folk in our realm riseth with the sun, thou wilt become accustomed to it but thou'lt be excused for the first moon or twain-”

“Save for the celestial azure chamber, in what other place am I permitted to abide?”

“Good question, thy majesty?” Philza turned to his King.

“Thou mayest be permitted to visit the kitchens, gardens, library, and sitting room,”

“For the rest of mine life, I am granted to dwell in four chambers and a garden,” Pac whispered.

“Dost thou believe that unjust, my Prince?” Philza asked.

“Yea, in sooth, I do, I will not pass the next seventy years of mine life ensnared within four chambers,”

“I am afeared thou dost not possess much election in this affair,” Philza smirked.

“And yet neither I nor my Sovereign hath set our seals to the pact, we may still elect the path of war o'er the joining of hands in matrimony. I do insist upon conditions of living that be just and fair,”

“Thou art a clever knave, Pac-”

“Philza, watch thy tongue, for thy sarcastic leanings might end in strife, which neither of us doth desire,” Fit scolded, “Wherefore dost thou believe this to be unjust?”

“As a guest in mine own castle, within mine own Kingdom, thou art permitted to journey whither thou wilt, but once I wed thee, thy Kingdom shall become mine, and I shall not be a guest, nor yet shall I be suffered to wander freely about the castle,”

“That is certes a manner of comprehending it,” Fit stated, “Perchance I might reconsider, but until we art wedded, thou shalt venture only to those four chambers, plus the garden,”

“And once we are wedded?”

“I shall have to ponder,” 

“Hast thou tidings from thy sovereign realm?” Philza asked.

“Whensoever I desire to dispatch a missive, I am acquaint'd with thy crows, for thou hast proclaimed me cunning, and thus I hath made inquiry into thy realm, O King Fit, and thine, O King Philza, albeit, I suppose, at present thou dost not wear the crown, having bestowed that honour upon King Aldo,”

“How much dost thou know of my Kingdom?” Fit asked.

“Enough,”

“Thou speakest with great rudeness, thou shalt not be permitted such when thou dost venture to 2b2t, the penalty of treason shall be thine own head,”

“Art thou aware of what treason truly is, Philza?” Pac asked, “I go by thy rules, I shall obey mine future King, and shall not go against him, e'en if I wish to, speaking ill of one's king is not treason, or at least not by 2b2t law,”

“Dost thou ken the law of 2b2t?” Fit asked.

“Forsooth, I do, for 'tis a part of a prince's education, one my brother Mike and sister Bagi presently endure, to ken the laws of all the five kingdoms and some lesser ones eke,”

“Then shalt thou agree with the nobles of 2b2t, high education is most requisite,” Philza stated.

“Verily, I opine that mine liege, having discharged his weighty duties, stand'th ready to discourse with us. He, being a valiant defender of mine honour, beyond mine own skill, I urge thee to strive earnestly to render mine existence in 2b2t a most pleasant one,”

“Is that a threat? Fit asked.

“An thou wilt see't so, but an thou wilt not, then see't not,”

“Felps, meu cavaleiro prometido, por favor, traga o Rei Cellbit, estarei seguro aqui, se não, tenho minha própria espada,” Pac asked. (Felps, my promised knight, please bring King Cellbit, I'll be safe here, if not, I have my own sword,)

“Contra outros três?” (Against three others)

“Sim, além disso, eles não atacariam um príncipe em seu próprio reino sem uma pena de morte para eles,” (Yes, besides, they would not attack a prince in their own kingdom without a death penalty for them)

After Fit’s meeting with Prince Pac, King Cellbit and Philza, they had agreed on the living requirements for Prince Pac’s future, which probably meant that he would have a husband for life, he was Prince Pac’s elder after all, with Pac being 28 and he being 34. The chances were he would die before Prince Pac, unless he committed treason, or some other crime that justified execution. 

There was a single day left before he would venture home, with an extra person, and potentially a horse, he wasn’t sure if Prince Pac had a horse, if not they’d have to come up with a solution, as neither his, nor Philza’s, nor Etoiles’ saddles were made for two, Etoiles would potentially have to ride with no saddle and a Prince accompanying him. 

Fit was walking along with Philza, who was giving him notes over the goings on in his Kingdom that he had received via letter from Missa. Philza’s crows were very useful. As King of purgatory, although he didn’t really hold that title anymore as he had become Fit’s adviser since he became King, over ten years ago.

“So, your Majesty, we have to-”

“Philza, stop,” Fit turned his head, “Whoever spieth upon mine own person and mine own counsel, bewray thyself,”

Fit waited for a masked individual to appear, instead of seeing a masked figure, he instead saw a crowned man, the crown prince Mike.

“King Fit,”

“For what cause didst thou play the espial upon us?”

“I wasn’t,”

“Thou wert hid, o'erhearing our discourse, how could'st thou be else?”

“Forgive me your highness but are you insinuating that I am not permitted to walk the halls of my home?”

“In that case why were you hidden?” Philza asked.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation with my presence, but that’s failed now, hasn’t it?”

“How can thou deny this? it be most apparent,” Philza stated.

“Can you prove otherwise?

“No, we can’t,” Fit admitted.

“Then I’m innocence of your cruel accusations,”

“Thou dost act as if thou wert a criminal aforetime,”

“Perhaps I have been, perhaps Prince Pac has been too,”

“What are you attempting to communicate?” Fit asked.

“Maybe you shouldn’t marry him, as an ex-criminal,”

“We ken not an he be an ex-felon, we only have thy word, and whether that be trustworthy is not something we trow,”

Crown Prince Mike rolled his eyes before walking away. Fit wondered why he was attempting to convince him not to marry Prince Pac instead of spending their final moments living in the same castle together, but he appreciated the attempt. 

The pair continued walking through the castle grounds, where they were to meet Etoiles and Felps, who were apparently going to spar. Upon arrival Fit could only differentiate between the two men because of their armour, he couldn’t see their faces, nor their skin, if Etoiles was not wearing his uniform, he would have no clue who to support.

The two men began to spar, swords drawn, circling each other, before Etoiles sprang forth aiming for the man’s rib cage. Felps dodged out of the way, spinning around in a way to surprise Etoiles with a stab to his shoulder, unfortunately for Felps, Etoiles had quick reaction times. Etoiles attacked, Felps dodged, then Felps would attack and Etoiles would dodge, their fight was almost like a dance, and was incredibly interesting to watch. 

Suddenly Cellbit came storming out into the courtyard, a face full of fury. 

“PAC TAZER TIRE SUA ARMADURA AGORA MESMO E SEJA PRINCIPESCO, NÃO CAVALHEIRESCO!” (PAC TAZER TAKE OFF YOUR ARMOR RIGHT NOW AND BE PRINCELY, NOT CHIVALROUS!)

“I’m sorry Prince Pac?” Fit questioned in surprise.

“Sinto muito, meu rei, eu estava entediado,” the still masked Prince Pac replied. (I'm sorry, my king, I was bored)

“Isso não é uma desculpa,” Cellbit responded. (That's not an excuse)

Prince Pac took off his helmet, tossing his hair about, but not before he placed his sword in it’s sheath. 

“I am most heavy with regret, King Cellbit, I believe I did engage in martial practice with thy knight, Felps,” Etoiles apologised.

“'Tis no fault of thine, my brother; yet, verily, 'tis he that is guilty as sin,”

“Cellbit-”

“Excuse me,”

“King Cellbit,” Prince Pac spat, “Wherefore is it such a transgression for I to spar?”

“Forasmuch as thou arte a prince, thou holdest in fee simple honour, the which it behoveth thee to guard well, lest thou beest sore bested,”

“Wherefore must we debate hereof in English? Wherefore must our guests be privy to our contention?”

“For that one of these guests shall be thy husband, one goodly thing of thy marriage is mine own release from dealing with thy comportment, but I hath assured King Fit that thou wilt behave thyself,”

“I crave thy pardon for being such a trial to thee. I did wish for a venting of mine humours, yet none of our own guards would cross swords with me. I am wary enough to avoid harm, and ere thou wert crowned King, the art of sparring was a part of our royal tutelage,”

“Pac-”

“If I am to call thee by thy title, thou art to call me by mine,”

“Prince Pac, I am thy superior, thou didst relinquish the throne, thou didst never speak of why but-”

“That be information neither thou nor our guests wilt know,”

“You relinquished the throne?” Fit asked in surprise.

“I did,”

“But you are to become King consort,” Philza pointed out.

“But the burdens of Kingship shall not descend upon me, unless King Fit doth appoint me thereunto, which I greatly doubt he shall, considering he did not wish for me to wander his castle,”

“The matter of whether we trust thee enough with our Kingdom’s secrets cometh before Kingly duties,”

“Then I shall be well, the cause for which I didst relinquish the throne is a secret, known only by me and mine own father,”

“Which father dost thou speak of?” King Cellbit asked.

“Cellbit, with all respect, silence thyself, the deceased monarch 'tis whom I am speaking of,”

“I am curious, wherefore didst thou ask which father, hath he two?” Fit asked.

“Yea, I’m adopted, forsooth… I have no blood of kings, nor hath Mike, yet I was the one our father did choose for the throne at the first,”

“Prince Pac, mark thy words, this disrespect bringeth consequences from whence I cannot shield thee once thou art wed,” King Cellbit warned.

“Think'st thou I need thy protection?” Prince Pac asked sarcastically.

“To thy chamber hie thee, I shall parley with thee therein, apart from our guests,”

“Dost thou send me to mine chamber as though I were but a child?” 

“GO!” King Cellbit yelled.

Prince Pac turned on his heel and strode back to his chambers, or at least that’s what Fit assumed. King Cellbit sighed, rubbing his temple, he looked towards Fit and smiled.

“I do beseech thee for forgiveness for all of the deeds of mine own siblings, for thou canst imagine this be a time most trying for us all,”

“'Tis passing strange, for I have never beholden any withstand the Etoiles for so long a time without once receiving a blow,”

“Pac is a passing fine man of war, and wouldeth have made a most puissant soldier, but I forbade him once I was become King, for I may not adventure his safety, as I am sure you knoweth,”

“I would do the self-same for Ramon, I suppose thy siblings be almost like younglings in that regard, ever taking heed of them,”

“Only I imagineth younglings be more ungovernable, these be grown folk, they shouldst know better and in some instances doth, Prince Pac is normally the simplest to address with,”

“Mine counsellor and I peruse the stirs of mine kingdom. Knowe ye aught of when we shall departeth hence on the morrow?”

“After breaking our fasts, I should imagine,”

“Etoiles and Philza make ready to depart for yon time,”

Fit was glad he was going home soon, he wanted to see his son, the familiarity of his land, and hopefully receive higher respect than he had in Favela, and be able to speak commonly with his oldest and dearest friend. The food in Favela was also wildly different to the food in 2b2t, not that he minded, he was ever open to trying new meats and drinks.

From the letter Missa ad sent, he knew there was little going on in his land, and that he left at the perfect time, as he was normally very busy, being a King wasn’t as glorious as it seemed, it was why he scarcely saw King Cellbit during his time here, except for scheduled meetings, and when he scolded Prince Pac. 

That was something else Fit was scared about, Prince Pac’s behaviour, King Cellbit had assured him that he would behave but he could never be too sure, and he did hope the prince would behave before their marriage, technically the weren’t even engaged yet, that would be happening this evening, an event Fit was currently getting ready for, he had to wear his crown, despite not enjoying it, he hadn’t asked Pac for his choice of weapon, but he saw the way the man’s eyes lit up when he mentioned a bow, so he employed Etoiles to gather the materials he would need to craft one, the bow was one of immense power. 

He wondered if the prince was going to do his traditions on him, but he didn’t really mind if he didn’t, he wasn’t one to wear jewellery. He had about four days left until he’d be back at his castle, one day left of Favela and then three, if they stopped as much as Philza made on the journey to Favela, then three of travelling. 

“Missa hath appointed thee a plethora of meetings hence our return,” Philza stated.

The two of them continued walking the ground, no longer distracted by Etoiles and Pac sparring.

“How manyeth?”

“Four per day, for two weeks,”

“I have a nuptial ceremony to arrange that shall occur in four weeks' time, bid him to reschedule some of those engagements,”

“I shall; is there aught thou wisheth to be scheduled in the coming weeks, save for the wedding, of course?”

“Ramon's tutor to be cancell'd, and for time to be allottid for our time together,”

Chapter Text

Pac was exhausted, it wasn’t that he hadn’t slept recently but more the mental strain of the current events. He promised Mike that he would get in an argument with Cellbit in front of King Fit in hopes that the King would not want to wed a rebellious prince, so he made a deal with Felps, he’d wear the man’s armour and spar with Etoiles, sure it was dangerous but Pac was highly trained in combat. 

So, there he was, wearing Felps’ armour, sword on his hip, circling Etoiles, he saw King Fit watching, and prayed to his god that this would work, and that the King would leave his family alone. 

He unsheathed his sword, and held it next to Etoiles. Pac waited for his opponent to strike first, which he did, attempting to stab at his rib cage, however Pac span and he dodged, in a way to allow him to get an attack, Pac stabbed at his shoulder, and unfortunately Etoiles was able to dodge himself, ducking down at Pac’s attack. Pac swung his sword before immediately stabbing it in Etoiles’ direction, an attempt for a stealth attack, but it ultimately failed. Etoiles attacked him too, attempting to strike him three times in a row, right, left, right, Pac dodged like his life depended on it, which it didn’t because he could yield if he so wished. 

“PAC TAZER TIRE SUA ARMADURA AGORA MESMO E SEJA PRINCIPESCO, NÃO CAVALHEIRESCO!” (PAC TAZER TAKE OFF YOUR ARMOR RIGHT NOW AND BE PRINCELY, NOT CHIVALROUS!)

“I’m sorry Prince Pac?” King Fit questioned in surprise.

“Sinto muito, meu rei, eu estava entediado,” Pac replied. (I'm sorry, my king, I was bored)

“Isso não é uma desculpa,” Cellbit responded. (That's not an excuse)

“I am most heavy with regret, King Cellbit, I believe I did engage in martial practice with thy knight, Felps,” Etoiles apologised.

“'Tis no fault of thine, my brother; yet, verily, 'tis he that is guilty as sin,”

“Cellbit-”

“Excuse me,”

“King Cellbit,” Prince Pac spat, “Wherefore is it such a transgression for I to spar?”

“Forasmuch as thou arte a prince, thou holdest in fee simple honour, the which it behoveth thee to guard well, lest thou beest sore bested,”

“Wherefore must we debate hereof in English? Wherefore must our guests be privy to our contention?”

“For that one of these guests shall be thy husband, one goodly thing of thy marriage is mine own release from dealing with thy comportment, but I hath assured King Fit that thou wilt behave thyself,”

“I crave thy pardon for being such a trial to thee. I did wish for a venting of mine humours, yet none of our own guards would cross swords with me. I am wary enough to avoid harm, and ere thou wert crowned King, the art of sparring was a part of our royal tutelage,”

“Pac-”

“If I am to call thee by thy title, thou art to call me by mine,”

“Prince Pac, I am thy superior, thou didst relinquish the throne, thou didst never speak of why but-”

“That be information neither thou nor our guests wilt know,”

“You relinquished the throne?” King Fit asked in surprise.

“I did,”

Pac did not want his future husband, or the members of his counsel to be aware of his relinquishing the throne. He had his reasons, something he had spoken to his father about before his passing, well his adoptive father. That was something else he didn’t wish for his future kingdom to find out about, yet Cellbit had decided to yell out his business.

“Which father dost thou speak of?” Cellbit asked.

“Cellbit, with all respect, silence thyself, the deceased monarch 'tis whom I am speaking of,”

“I am curious, wherefore didst thou ask which father, hath he two?” King Fit asked.

“Yea, I’m adopted, forsooth… I have no blood of kings, nor hath Mike, yet I was the one our father did choose for the throne at the first,”

“Prince Pac, mark thy words, this disrespect bringeth consequences from whence I cannot shield thee once thou art wed,” King Cellbit warned.

“Think'st thou I need thy protection?” Prince Pac asked sarcastically.

“To thy chamber hie thee, I shall parley with thee therein, apart from our guests,”

“Dost thou send me to mine chamber as though I were but a child?” 

“GO!” Cellbit yelled.

Pac prayed that his argument with Cellbit worked in discouraging King Fit in marrying him, if not it would have caused a wrench in his and Cellbit’s relationship for no reason. 

Pac sat on his bed, both Mike and Richas were in his room too, Pac was holding onto Richas, as the boy had only just been told of the news of Pac’s engagement, or marriage, to which the boy was very displeased.

“Por que ele não pode saber sobre mim então?” Richas asked. (Why can't he know about me then?)

“Porque queremos que você esteja seguro Richas,” Mike said. (Because we want you to be safe Richas)

“Acredito que nosso rei pode me odiar atualmente e acho que nosso plano não funcionou, Mike,” (I believe our king may hate me currently and I don't think our plan worked, Mike,)

“Ele pode nos odiar o quanto quiser, você disse que poderia pegar de volta a coroa dele a qualquer momento, então... ameaçá-lo,” Mike suggested. (He can hate us all he wants, you said you could take back his crown at any time, so... threaten him)

“Que plano?” Richas asked. (What plan?)

“Não se preocupe, e Mikey isso pode ter sido uma mentira, eu renunciei ao trono, nosso irmão teria que concordar para eu receber a coroa,” (Don't worry, and Mikey this may have been a lie, I renounced the throne, our brother would have to agree for me to receive the crown,)

“Bem, isso é uma,” (Well that sucks)

“Pai?” 

“Sim?” Pac asked.

“Será que algum dia vou te ver de novo, depois do seu casamento?” (Will I ever see you again, after your wedding?)

“Claro que você vai, eu vou voltar para visitar, mas você não vai me ver com frequência,” (Sure you will, I'll come back to visit, but you won't see me often,)

The three of them all heard angry footsteps, Pac knew it was Cellbit, and he knew he’d kick his brother and son out, so he’d face his wrath alone, Pac didn’t even know why Cellbit had forbidden it, a sharp knock of the door confirmed his suspicions, Mike got off Pac’s bed to answer it, Richas cuddling closer to Pac.

“Mike, Richas,” Cellbit smiled, before he dropped into a frown, “Fora,” (Get out)

“Que? Não, eu vou passar meu último dia com meu irmão,” (What? No, I'm going to spend my last day with my brother,)

“Vou chamar Felps para acompanhá-lo para fora,” (I’ll call Felps to escort you out)

“Tchau Pac, boa sorte,” (Bye Pac, good luck)

Mike picked Richas up off Pac, holding the boy on his waist and walked out of them room, Pac rolled his eyes, and collapsed back onto his bed from the sitting position he was in.

“Quer explicar do que se tratava?” (Do you want to explain what it was about?)

“Último dia de liberdade,” (Last day of freedom)

“Então você quebra minhas próprias regras?” (So, you break my own rules?)

“Sim,”

“Pac, eu sei que isso não é legal e acredite em mim, estou tentando encontrar um método alternativo, mas você ofereceu, e eu não sei mais o que fazer-” (Pac, I know this is not nice and believe me, I'm trying to find an alternative method, but you offered it, and I don't know what else to do-)

“Estou com medo, na verdade, as regras que eles estabeleceram para mim são extremamente limitantes,” (I'm scared, in fact, the rules they set for me are extremely limiting,)

“Pac-”

“Não, você também acabou de dizer a essas pessoas que eu desisti do trono, isso era um segredo, que a informação pode me colocar em perigo, você também contou a eles sobre meu pai, e eles podem facilmente descobrir meu passado através dessa informação, é o Reino brutal, eu posso ser condenado à morte por causa disso,” (No, you also just told these people that I gave up the throne, this was a secret, that the information can put me in danger, you also told them about my father, and they can easily find out my past through this information, it's the brutal Kingdom, I can be put to death because of it,)

“Eu não pensei,” (I didn’t think)

“Não, você não fez, não só eu tenho que me casar com esse homem, mas eu poderia morrer se ele escolhesse pesquisar meu passado, e ele é um historiador,” (No, you didn't, not only do I have to marry this man, but I could die if he chose to research my past, and he's a historian)

“Ele não pode te matar,” (He can’t kill you)

“Sim, ele pode,” (Yes he can)

“Ele não pode, a menos que você quebre o contrato... senão os outros quatro reinos irão para a guerra contra ele, você está seguro, eu garanti que,” (He can't, unless you break the contract... else the other four kingdoms will go to war against him, you are safe, I assure you that,)

“Eu gostaria de ficar sozinho agora, por favor,” (I would like to be alone now, please,)

“Sim, mas por favor, não passe seu último dia aqui sozinho, eu sei que Mike, Richas e Bagi querem vê-lo, e eu também, mas não sei o quanto isso importa para você agora,” (Yes, but please don't spend your last day here alone, I know Mike, Richas and Bagi want to see you, and so do I, but I don't know how much it matters to you right now,)

My dearest journal,

I am affrighted, near to trembling with fear. After Cellbit did accept mine offer, which I was fearful to proffer, nought doth seem joyful, all doth seem bittersweet, as I am to depart on the morrow after breaking my fast.

I am going to entreat Bagi to aid me in my packing, for she is wise, and I have not laid mine eyes upon her much since the betrothal was proclaimed, but she hath been labouring for our Realm, well I suppose it is not mine own anymore. Favela was my dwelling, the inner thoroughfares, and the castle, but now… now I believe I have no home anymore.

The proposal is this eve at supper, I shall receive a weapon from the King, and he shall receive a ring of ruby from me, albeit not this present day, red symboliseth blood, something I associate his kingdom withal, though I will never tell him so. I won’t watch mine own son grow up, that thought doth pain me, instead I am forced to watch a boy, not mine own, grow up, Ramon is his name, and whilst I am sure he is a wondrous child, I do wish Richas could accompany me, or I did not have to depart.

I hope my king, though not for long shall be, will pardon me for the grief I have wrought, I ne'er wished him ill but ken I have. I pray that Bagi may have a gladsome marriage with Tina, and Cellbit may have a joyful union with Roier, I wish them a fate more kind than mine own, despite my inward turmoil, I wish Mike a restful future, tending to Richas with his patron goddess and I wish for mine own self, peace eventually.

Dearest Pac.

Pac had asked Felps to bring Bagi to him, he knew his sister would immediately arrive, potentially before Felps and she would run, Bagi cared so deeply for all her siblings and Pac was no exception, he felt guilty about not having seen her much in his final days in Favela, saying those words left a sour taste on his tongue.

He heard knocking at his door, very clearly Bagi, and he smiled as he opened the door, to be immediately squashed into a hug, he smiled at Felps, who had managed to keep up with Bagi, although he was out of breath and she was in heels, the woman could be scary at times. He dismissed Felps with a nod of his head and closed the door as he shuffled both himself and Bagi inside. Eventually they broke their hugs and Bagi sat at the end of his bed.

“Como posso ajudá-lo?” she asked. (How can I help you?)

“Eu preciso fazer as malas, e não sei o que levar, pensei que poderíamos passar um tempo juntos enquanto você me ajuda com isso, se quiser?” (I need to pack, and I don't know what to bring, I thought we could spend time together while you help me with this, if you want?)

“Sim,” she smiled, “Então, obviamente, você precisa de roupas, vamos começar por aí,” (So obviously you need clothes, let's start there)

"Eu preciso de vestes reais, falei com o Rei Fit e estou mantendo meu tema de cores,” (I need royal robes, I spoke to King Fit and I'm sticking to my colour theme,)

“Que tal três de suas vestes reais, além de joias que eu tenho uma caixa no meu quarto que você pode levar, e sua coroa, como vamos transportar isso?” (How about three of your royal robes, plus jewellery. I have a box in my room that you can take, and your crown, how are we going to transport that?)

“E então roupas de noite e roupas comuns,” (And then night clothes and ordinary clothes,)

“Um par de roupas de dormir e depois cinco de roupas comuns,” (One pair of nightwear and then five of ordinary clothes,)

“Então temos itens...” (So, we have items…)

“Existe algo que você cem por cento tem que trazer com você?” (Is there something that you one hundred percent have to bring with you?)

“Minha adaga, não vou me sentir seguro lá... e meu diário, e talvez algo de cada um de vocês, para que eu possa encontrar algum conforto,” (My dagger, I won't feel safe there... and my journal, and maybe something from each of you, so that I can find some comfort,)

“Você não precisa explicar seu raciocínio, eu entendo Pac, vou falar com Cell, Mike e Richas,” (You don't need to explain your reasoning, I understand Pac, I'll talk to Cell, Mike and Richas,)

“E Felps?” (And Felps?)

“Claro, por que não, agora precisamos escolher suas melhores roupas, porque você e eu sabemos que há muito por onde escolher, você é um príncipe, afinal,” (Of course, why not, now we need to choose your best clothes, because you and I know that there is a lot to choose from, you are a prince, after all,)

Bagi and Pac started a fashion show, with Pac trying on all his clothes and Bagi criticising most of them and picking out the very few she deemed acceptable for him to take with him to 2b2t. Pac did a small twirl in his fanciest garments, one he had been saving to wear at Cellbit’s wedding, which he was unsure of the date that the event would occur on, so he hadn’t worn it quite yet. 

“Desde quando você tem isso?” (Since when have you had this?)

“Mikey e eu fomos à cidade e compramos roupas para o casamento de Cellbit,” (Mikey and I went into town and bought clothes for Cellbit's wedding,)

“Pac você deve usar isso para o seu próprio casamento, é lindo, você é lindo, ele emoldura você muito bem e é suas próprias cores,” (Pac, you should wear this to your own wedding, it's beautiful, you're beautiful, it frames you very well and it's your own colors,)

“Realmente?” (Really?)

“Sim,”

The outfit consisted of cerulean trousers of a dark hue, and a blue corset ornamented with silver buttons and lace. He wore a shirt of silvery white and a blue coat, emblazoned with silver embroidery bearing the symbols of Favela and his realm. 

“Eu tenho algumas joias que ficariam perfeitas com essa roupa,” (I have some jewellery that would look perfect with this outfit)

“Você me deixaria usá-lo?” (Would you let me use it?)

“Pac, você pode tê-lo,” (Pac, you can have it)

Pac walked into Richas’ tutor room, where his tutor was explaining treaties and contracts, something the boy wouldn’t know a lot about, he wasn’t even aware that his father wasn’t marrying for love. He thought Pac genuinely loved King Fit, something that was comical in Pac’s eyes. He wouldn’t love the King, he couldn’t, he was brutal and cruel, he didn’t care for Pac’s emotions or comfort, which was made apparent in a meeting they had together. 

Richas’ tutor kept teaching, as he would until he was dismissed, something Cellbit had instructed him to do, so Pac waved his hand and the man left the room, he had not been informed of the marriage, nobody in the Kingdom had, there was a dinner tonight, where multiple nobles would be in attendance, so they’d be speaking English, meaning he and Cellbit would do the heavy lifting of carrying conversations, as they were the two who could speak English the best, not that Pac minded, as he’d have to get used to speaking in English for the rest of his life. 

“PAI” Richas giggled, running up to Pac.

“Richas,” Pac smiled, “I Eu tenho um favor para lhe pedir,” ( I have a favour to ask you,)

“Sim?”

“Por favor, quando eu sair, seja bom para seus pais, e mãe, eles estão tentando e lutando também, eu quero que você seja um menino grande e os ajude quando eles precisarem, ok?” (Please, when I leave, be good to your dads, and mum they are trying and struggling too, I want you to be a big boy and help them when they need it, okay?)

“Eu vou sentir sua falta,” (I'm going to miss you)

“Eu vou sentir sua falta também, eu te amo meu filho,” (I'm going to miss you too, I love you my son)

The dinner was a massive event, something that the entire royal family had to dress up for. Bagi had picked out Pac’s outfit, one he was not bringing with him, so it was bittersweet to wear it for the last time. It was mainly black, with blue stitching, and silver accents. King Fit was to propose to him, he’d propose to the King, while in 2b2t, at another formal event he assumed, technically there was no need for him to propose too but as they were both men, the typical gender to propose, part of their contract stated they both had to propose.

Bagi applied makeup to his face, attempting to make him look more alive, adding light blush and concealer on his bags under his eyes, it was very clear that he was exhausted. She titled his head to the side before smiling to herself, content with her work.

“Precisamos ir, agora,” Cellbit said, grabbing Pac’s hand. (We need to go now)

The three of them walked to the ballroom, despite this not being a ball and instead a dinner, but there were far too many people in attendance for their dining room to be used. Bagi had helped with the decoration, they all wore their crowns, them and King Fit. 

Pac sat opposite King Fit, at the end of one table, the only person separating them was Cellbit who was sat at the head of the table. Pac grabbed Mike’s hand under the table, and he saw Bagi smile at him from Mike’s other side. Many nobles were curious as to why this event was called so last minute. 

“An I may interrupt the discoursings of all here present,” Cellbit stated, “I trow King Fit hath somewhat he would avouch,”

“Gramercy King Cellbit, forsooth, Prince Pac of Favela, sithence I thee met, which seemeth not long agone afore being somewhile, my heart doth hold thee dear, thy visage bright, thy words most gentle, and thy soul's sweet grace, I bestow upon thee a set consisting of a bow and arrows, hand-wrought by mine own hands. 'Tis a tradition in mine Kingdom, one of engagement if you do accept my gift then you shall be my fiancé,”

“I accept,” Pac was handed the bow, and he scanned every detail, unsure of how the King knew his favourite weapon. 

“Wouldst thou accompany me and my counsellor home to my Kingdom, where thou shalt call home thyself after our wedding?”

“I shall,” 

“An' wilt thou take upon thee the title of King consort of 2b2t, in lieu of Prince Pac of Favela,”

“King Fit, I would love unto, you make me so happy,”

“Most gracious King Cellbit, I present unto thee,”

“As a jubilant commemoration of my brother's betrothal, may you partake with all due delight in the repast prepared by my retainers,”

Everyone began to eat and talk joyfully, Pac pretended to smile, and be joyful himself, and it was surprisingly effective considering the amount of nobles who commented on his happiness, which unbeknownst to them was fake, false, a facade and a lie. 

His hand tightened around Mike’s every time somebody congratulated him, King Fit mainly spoke to his adviser and the nobles congratulating them, opposed to his supposed fiance, but that was of much relief to Pac, he didn’t want to deal with the man any more than he had to.

“Wherefore should we deny these turtles two, to be alone in quiet secrecy?” a noble asked.

Unfortunately, a lot of people agreed, so it led to Pac and King Fit stood outside the ballroom together.

“Hast thou practised that speech?”

“Mine advisor did instruct me thus to speak,”

“Lo, it soundeth as if those words sprang from the very core,”

“Beware what thou dost speak to thy King that shall be,”

“Insofar as I am cognizant, I may express myself with impunity within the confines of mine own realm, but once we be in 2b2t I shall watch mine word,”

“Verily, art thou equippeth to depart morrow?”

“Yea, mine belongings be pack'd, mine horse standeth ready, I have bidden farewell to all, saveth Cellbit,”

“Art thou bidding him adieu this night?”

“I shall be present, but I will bid thee farewell at the morrow's repast,”

“We must act as if we are in love once were enter that room,”

“I am aware,”

“So, hold mine hand and laugh,”

“Laugh, wherefore should I laugh?”

“Forasmuch as not many would find favour in the eyes of the cruel King, there must be that about mine own self which doth draw thee, perchance mine humour?”

“Fine…”

The two walked back inside, hand in hand, King Fit whispering in his ear, signalling for Pac to laugh, he did and everyone in the room smiled. They separated and returned to their seats, Pac immediately finding comfort in Mike, and holding his brother’s hand.

He locked eyes with his brother, a look of sympathy clear in the crown prince’s eyes. They sat down enjoying the rest of the dinner, as much as they could, Pac couldn’t sob in his brother’s arms yet but there was a shared understanding between them that he would once the dinner was over. 

“Vai ficar tudo bem, Moço,” Mike whispered. (It’ll be okay,)

“Depois do jantar, você pode fazer com que Cellbit e Bagi venham ao meu quarto? Por favor?” (After dinner, can you get Cellbit and Bagi to come to my room? Please?)

“Sim, todos nós vamos chorar, mas sim, eu posso fazer isso,” (Yes, we're all going to cry, but yes, I can do it)

“So, King Fit, how long hath thou and Prince Pac here wist each other?” a noble asked.

“Uh-” the King stuttered.

“Six moons,” Pac answered.

“How longe hast thou bene courting?”

“We’ve been courting for four,” the King answered.

“A declaration of love so soon, wow”

“When thou knowest, thou knowest, but we eke holden regal charge, wherefore our courting wast shorter than is common 'mongst the vulgar,” Fit smiled.

“And thou hast gotten leave of King Cellbit, that King most famously known for being most watchful of his siblings, that be impressive,”

Chapter Text

Fit walked alongside Philza and Etoiles, the two having prepared their horses for travel, as they walked to the dining room to break their fast with the King and princes, and princess. He sat down, the other royal family having already been seated, and passing around food on their plates. Fit had tried many new foods while in Favela, and had not had many foods that were present in his Kingdom too. It was a new experience that he enjoyed. 

He sat down, opposite Princess Bagi, his counsellor Philza opposite Prince Mike, and Etoiles stood next to Felps. They all began to eat, nobody really spoke a word, except for the odd Portuguese whisper from Mike to Pac, something the man didn’t really respond to, except the occasional nod or shake of his head. 

The servants brought more food out, and took empty plates to be cleaned, the breakfast here were certainly just as formal as the ones in 2b2t. That being said, Fit often had incredibly formal breakfasts with Ramon. 

“When shall you depart?” King Cellbit suddenly asked.

“We be all yare, prithee after this repast,” Philza stated.

“Pac?” King Cellbit turned to face his brother.

“Bagi and I packed all things yestermorn ere dining, and I do believe Felps hath prepared my courser, wherefore I be yare,”

“It is a long journey on horseback, two days, three if so be we make stops, art thou prepared for that?” Philza stated.

“Nay, I be not, but I reckon I must be”

“What part of it troubles you?” Philza asked.

“All of it, Philza,” Pac spat, “I desire not to be wed to thy King, I have no wish to leaveth my family behind, yet I must. Prithee, do me a favour and cease asking such idle questions,”

“My liege-”

“Nay, he is most right, thy questions getteth us nowhere, he shall settle, hopefully ere a moon, as well that is when the wedding is, but he shall, eventually, it is an unsettling matter, and he hath the right to feel that way,”

“I did not look for thee to defend my brother, but Fit, you so much as dishonour him and I will duel you myself, thou mayest be the cruel King, but I am a brother, one where we have grown together in unfortunate circumstances. I will not hesitate to take thy life if thou darest dishonour him or lay a hand on him,” Mike threatened.

Etoiles unsheathed his sword, Felps following suit. King Cellbit dismissed both of them, despite Etoiles’ reluctance, Fit nodded to him, an order to listen to King Cellbit. 

“Mike, prithee cease thy threatening of him,” Pac stated.

“Wherefore? He taketh thee hence, mine terms were gentler than I would have them to be,”

“Mikey, he forsooth be my spouse, I wouldst implore thee that there be no discord 'twixt thee, or as little as mayhap, eke I bid thee that Etoiles taketh not thy head,”

“He didn’t take thy head,”

“Thou art not adept in the martial arts, yet I am a seasoned warrior,”

“Seasoned warrior?” Philza laughed, “A prince is hardly a seasoned warrior,”

“Philza, thou know'st not aught of me, I have fought, for my Kingdom, I have won duels, I fought in the war against the Kingdom of Alcatraz, certes only for the last few moons but we won,”

“You fought in that?” Princess Bagi asked.

“Yea, our father put me up to it, whither didst thou think I went for three moons after mine eighteenth birthday?”

“I was unsure,” she admitted.

“Pleasant though this colloquy be we should hence depart, for long is the journey, and ere late I'd be abed,” Fit smiled, standing up.

“Felps, bear me company to fetch my steed, King Fit. I shall meet thee in the courtyard,” Prince Pac said, standing himself.

Fit was sat upon his steed, a white mare, he, alongside Philza and Etoiles, was waiting for Prince Pac to arrive, upon his own steed. They were all anxious to get moving, it was only around five in the morning, everyone had awoken at four for breakfast at sunrise, but they had a long trip. They all turned their heads as they had the clatter of horse shoes, 

Prince Pac was perched on a black and white stallion, bags strapped to the horse’s back, on his staddle. 

“We shall set off then,” Philza declared. 

The horses all set off, Fit was in the lead, Philza next to him, Etoiles and Prince Pac behind, he was slightly concerned about the prince riding off but Etoiles would keep him in check. The four rode in silence, the only thing to be heard was the horse shoes clattering against the ground and the occasional brush of shrubs. The sun was low, not having yet reached its peak, they had made a great distance in a short time, and the horses were walking, not running. 

They came across a village, still in the vast Kingdom of Favela, their Kingdoms did border each other but their castles were at opposite ends. Philza hopped off his horse, holding his mare by the reins. 

“Shall we pause here?” Philza asked his King.

“Wherefore?” Prince Pac asked.

“Art thou not hungry?” Fit asked.

“Indeed, nay, I breakfasted heartily for a purpose, deeming thou wert eager to return; wherefore makest thou these needless stays?”

“We require food,” Etoiles stated.

“Thou requireth it not thrice a day, twice shouldst suffice, verily, whilst in travel thou only pause to slumber and break thy fast then, after tarrying and ere thou moveth afar once more?”

“That couldst worketh-” Philza began.

“'Twould spare thee time,”

“Anon we shall pause, and for the rest of our travel embrace no more such delays,” Fit decided.

“If that is what you desire my liege,” Philza stated.

Everyone had tied their horses to a fence, and Prince Pac paid somebody to watch over them, something Fit found odd, the prince paying for a service. They walked into a restaurant, and people immediately smiled at the sight of the prince. Prince Pac smiled, and spoke with the commoners, unfortunately in Portuguese, so none of his men understood.

“Prince Pac, we are present for nutriment, not for prattle,” Philza stated.

“These be my people, perchance for the last time. I shalt speak to them if I so desire. Besides, I was ordering food. This man here is the owner. I was speaking to him,”

“Thou knowest thou art not permitted to speak Portuguese in our presence, thou readest the contract, did thou not?” 

“Philza,” Pac sighed, “In this domain of Favela where the English tongue is foreign, thou wouldst not fare greatly without mine own guidance,”

“Does nobody speak it?” Fit asked.

“No, pray tell, since my order was with the lord of this establishment, what repast enters your mind?”

“Command him upon our behalf to bring unto our presence a sumptuous repast, consisting of a diverse array of viands,” Philza declared. 

“It shall cost thee a fair share of thy wealth,”

“You are a prince, is it not free?” Etoiles asked.

“Nay, by virtue of my non-abuse of the kingly status of my position, you occupy no such station of royalty yourself by which you might lay claim to such a dispensation,”

“Kingly? I believe you are a prince,” Fit laughed.

“In olden days, I was heir apparent to the throne. Now I am Prince of the Favela. Soon, I will be King Consort of 2b2t, which will endow me with greater power than many trueborn kings. My duties will mirror those of any king. Chief among them is the preservation of the peace,”

“His point hath merit, my Liege,” Philza said.

“Pay them the money then,” Fit stated. 

They all sat down to eat, Prince Pac taking very little, he instead had decided to speak to the owner in his own language, perhaps for the last time, Fit had decided to allow it. Philza and Etoiles ate much, as the two would be on night watch and not get energy from sleep, although the prince probably didn’t know that, hence his confusion of the stops they took. 

They eventually got back to travelling, this time not in silence, Fit and Philza had decided to discuss their children, and Fit’s decision to enrol Chayanne and Tallulah in the same education as Ramon. He wasn’t really focussed on the prince or his guard but he could hear the horses behind him so he didn’t mind. 

Eventually night began to fall, the sky dimming, and the moon shining bright, with sparkling stars accompanying it. They weren’t near a village so they decided to camp out, they all had sleeping bags, unfortunately Pac didn’t, it was not something he had owned, he didn’t go travelling much.

“Wherefore be thy slumbering bag?” Philza asked.

“I don’t own one,”

“What? And thou camest travelling without one?” 

“I can slate on the floore,”

“Not spoilt,” Philza muttered under his breath, but Fit heard.

“Philza… must I want you to watch your tongue…again,” 

“No sire,”

“List good i̇' th' Heavens! Art thou, fair Etoiles, toward slumber this eventide? Or doth Philza likewise?” Fit asked.

“I be keeping watch whilst thou slumberest, my liege, wherefore?”

“Give Pac your slumbering bag,”

Etoiles handed over his sleeping bag, despite Pac’s insistence that he didn’t. Eventually he took it, mumbling in Portuguese.

“Prince Pac, thou must keep in mind he obeyeth an order from his King, and shall not heed to thine bidding,” Philza reminded.

“And yet I am to become yond King Consort he serveth,” 

“Hark, Prince Pac, once we depart thy kingdom's confines, thy title shall be cast aside. Upon thy entry into my lands, I shall assume the mantle of thy sovereign. I bid Philza to guard his speech, lest I extend the same decree unto thee,”

“Fair sir, your request that I bridle my tongue doth perplex me, for it is through speech that truth is uttered. Doth thy wish extend to silence, that I refrain from uttering a single word?”

“If that be the nature of the courtesy that your grace finds befitting, then, aye,”

“Privy to thy confidence, I shall bridle my tongue henceforward, or keep silence; say, how many leagues from thy kingdom are we now, if thou wouldst make a reckoning?”

“I should say approximately three hundred leagues remain, thus two days of travel,”

“And thy Kingdom knoweth of my presence? I would not be ta'en as a prisoner upon my arrival, good sir,”

“Word of our betrothal hath swiftly traversed the realm, and Philza hath received messages of felicitations from many a kingdom,”

“I shall retire to my slumber now, unless it be so required of me by he whose royalty I serve?” Philza stated.

“Art thou not famished, Philza, as our journey stretches forth unto an interminable distance?”

“Pray tell, suppositions are not verities, and our appetites may remain unsated past our midday repast,”

“Wherefore wouldst thou presume such?” Pac asked.

“Hark, Philza, attend to the cooking forthwith. I shall set about kindling a blazing hearth. Etoiles, prithee fetch the repast and Prince Pac, keep vigilant watch o'er our steeds,”

After two more days on the road, they were finally riding into the 2b2t castle grounds. Fit’s home, somewhere he rejoiced in being. He watched as his son darted away from his tutor, running towards him, while he was still currently on his horse. 

“DAD!” Ramon squealed.

“Yes, my boy?”

“You are home, you told me you’d be away longer- and then- and then- I saw your proposal, it was so cool,”

“Alright Ramon, calm down, we are going to put our horses away and then I’ll meet you in our lounge okay?”

“Okay,” 

Ramon skipped off to the lounge to wait.

“Lord Philza, I bid thee to procure all the knowledge I require from the Lord Missa. Etoiles, thou art to make ready the steeds, in particular that of Pac. Pac, thou art to accompany me,”

“Yes, your Grace,” Philza bowed, followed by Etoiles.

Fit began to walk through his castle, Pac following behind, he was sure Pac had noticed the drop of his prior title, and he saw the fury in his eyes, but the man couldn’t say anything against him, especially with his threats whilst they were in his Kingdom. 

“Know ye, my son Ramon, that, albeit thou art well aware thereof, thou shalt yet desire a full account thereof,”

“Employest thou formal speech with thy son, or informal as befits family?”

“Indeed, as a prince, he requires practice. I ofttimes shift between formal and informal speech,”

“By what means shall I present, with due ceremony or without?”

“Harken to this, and consider if you not require more practice,”

“Você é um bastardo do caralho,” Pac mumbled. (You're a fucking bastard)

“Pray tell, good fellow, what words did you utter but now?”

“Nothing…”

“Pac, thou shalt learn that here thou dost not lie nor treat the King with rudeness, what quoth thou?”

“If my words were not meant as a discourtesy, then I shall retract them,”

“Speak,”

“I called you a fucking bastard, Hark thee, Liege, verily, I wield the tongue of English right aptly and have so spoken it from my tender years. Know well, that albeit it be not my mother tongue, means it not in any wise that I am unskilled in its use, your majesty”

“You dare speak to me in such a way!”

“You commanded me to,”

“Sire, thine initial proclamation contained not such discourse,”

“I did as thy commandment bade me—I retracted mine utterance, yet thou told me to speak it,”

“I shall accept that this time, but you utter a single word in Portuguese or insult me or my son in any way and your head shall be taken,”

“Yes, your highness,”

“And forsooth, did Cellbit convey unto me that thou wouldst conduct thyself with propriety,”

“Hark, mayhap I be shorn of princedom's raiment, yet Cellbit reigns supreme as thy sovereign liege.”

“He is not my liege, yet I understand your point,”

They arrived in the lounge, where Ramon was already seated, with a servant, not his own, surprisingly. There was tea and coffee set on the coffee table, along with biscuits. 

“Ramon, wherein doth your accustomed servitor tarry? Fit asked.

“He’s looking for me,”

“What do you mean looking for you?”

“I ran away, but Tubbo found me,”

“This is Tubbo, and he shall be thy leal servitor,” Fit said, addressing Pac.

“Delighted to meet you Tubbo,” 

Pac walked over to shake his hand, but Fit stopped him, no noble in his Kingdom spoke to the servants unless they were in need of something, certainly not to greet them.

“By what divining rod led art thou to engage in such unseemly pursuits?”

“I am getting acquainted with my staff?”

“Consort not with him except with cause, for is Favela as a barn or byre only, with no manner of established order,”

“Please do not speak ill of my country,”

“Anyway, Ramon this is my fiancé, he is Prince Pac of Favela,”

“You’re a prince? Like me?”

“Yes, I am not a crown prince like you though, that pleasure belongs to my brother Mike,” Pac smiled.

“Your marriage isn’t real,” Ramon pouted, “Why couldn’t you marry someone you love, Fit?”

“Ramon I already told you, it’s for the Kingdom, whilst you may ask questions please do not waste time repeating them,”

“What was Favela like?” Ramon asked Pac.

“Oh, um- it’s beautiful, the sun is always shining, the country is permanently green, even during winter,”

“In winter?” Ramon whispered in awe, “How is that possible?”

“There is a type of tree called Evergreen trees, we have a lot of them,” Pac grinned.

“Dad?” Ramon asked.

“Yes?”

“Am I allowed to interact with Prince Pac, when I’m not in lessons,”

“I don’t see why not,”

“Is that okay with you Prince Pac?” 

“Sure,”

“Escort ye good Pac unto his chamber, Tubbo, and aid him to divest himself of his belongings. Said belongings still repose upon his equine companion, at this juncture stabled below,”

“Yes, your highness,” Tubbo bowed.

He waited for Pac to exit the room before doing so himself. Fit sat himself down on one of the sofas, Ramon sat down next to him, talking about what happened in the Kingdom without him. 

Fit sat on his throne, crown on head, in one of his Kingly outfits, all his staff before him, minus Tubbo and Ramon’s tutor, who were currently occupied, on orders of the King. With Fit’s return the normal flow of the castle would be restored. 

“I have returned, most unfortunate for thee, for it means more work must be done. A royal wedding is to be planned. Philza, my counselor, and Princess Bagi of Favela shall lead the endeavour. Will any here offer their assistance, or must I assign tasks?”

“I shall help,” Slime lifted his hand.

“As shall I,” DanTDM, also raised his hand. 

Many others also offered to aid in the wedding, and eventually Fit had enough staff working on it, he instructed Philza to take them to a room and give them each tasks, before sending a letter via crow to Bagi. 

“And for all others present, our time is most pressing, with my betrothed now present, and the Kingdom of the Federation to be made ready to receive them. King Cucurucho shall be present for but three days, the Crown Princess Elena in tow. Therefore, I implore your cooperation as I prepare for this new alliance, any questions?”

“Sir,” a guard raised his hand.

“Yes, go ahead,”

“My Liege, is it verily true that thou art betrothed, though thou hast never met thy betrothed before thy journey to Favela?”

“Verily, that is a query that is just, I and Pac exchanged missives, employing the trained crows of Philza, hence we have had each other's acquaintance for some time. On this subject, I desire no further inquiries. Is this understood?” 

Everyone nodded and began to move to do their jobs, some had to prepare dinner for their King and Prince, other’s had places and objects to clean. Fit didn’t have much business scheduled for the day, as they had assumed their arrival would be later, but he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to check on Pac, make sure he wasn’t causing trouble. 

Fit walked to Pac’s new chambers, the blue room, and heard talking from inside, he sighed as he realised Pac was probably trying to befriend his servant, perhaps he would have to give Pac a rotation of servants so he couldn’t befriend them. 

“Wherefore thou shalt have a guardian also, but he is in training presently,” he heard his servant say. 

Fit sighed upon realising that Pac was probably just asking for information that he did require, giving Pac a servant to himself was much simpler than giving him a rotation of servants, and he knew Tubbo would serve him well, the boy had come from poverty and did his job well. 

Fit knocked on the door and Tubbo opened it for Pac, who was placing clothes into the wardrobe present inside. 

“Your highness,” Tubbo bowed. 

“Rise, Pray, pardon me, but I perceive that thou art engaged in the act of unpacking. I had not surmised that thou wouldst commence such an undertaking at this early time, since our arrival was not too long ago,” Fit stated. 

“It were best to forthwith conclude this matter, lest it linger for sennights hereafter, an unprincely state of affairs. To leave raiment and appurtenances scattered about is…”

“Hath thy servant been of service, for in mine eyes it seems he is of no account,”

“Verily, this knave conveyed mine baggage to mine chambers and commenced to assist me in the unburdening thereof, and did answer the door to thee, he is of service,”

“Fare ye well, I must now bid thee adieu. I shall be heavily occupied during the coming week, hosting the Kingdom of the Federation. Shouldst thou desire to grace King Cucurucho with thy presence, I beseech thee to don formal attire,”

“Attire befits a king’s court, yet there thou hast not beheld me beyond those garments fit for travel. Pray thee, deem them not common,”

“Verily thou speakest truth, Tubbo. Fetch him his repast when the ninth hour tolls,”

Chapter Text

Once Pac had been led to his room by Tubbo, someone he was determined to befriend, despite the King telling him otherwise, he collapsed onto the bed. He immediately stood up and began to unpack, he didn’t think the King would like him living out of bags. 

Tubbo began to help him and the task went surprisingly quickly, he asked Tubbo to tell him about the castle and the staff, where he learnt about his guard, Bad, who he would meet the next day, maybe he’d befriend him too, if he didn’t snitch to his King. 

“Wherefore thou shalt have a guardian also, but he is in training presently,” Tubbo said. 

Suddenly they both heard a knock at the door and Pac asked if Tubbo could open it for him, which the man did, in Favela they didn’t have private servants so it was all new for Pac, their servants were more like friends who did housework, but in 2b2t they were servants who did any task for you, whether simple or complicated and that was something that Pac disliked, who was he to be of a higher living quality than Tubbo? Felps? Bad? Anyone who wasn’t a prince, he wasn’t even originally a prince. 

“Your highness,” Tubbo bowed. 

“Rise, Pray, pardon me, but I perceive that thou art engaged in the act of unpacking. I had not surmised that thou wouldst commence such an undertaking at this early time, since our arrival was not too long ago,” The King said.

“It were best to forthwith conclude this matter, lest it linger for sennights hereafter, an unprincely state of affairs. To leave raiment and appurtenances scattered about is…” 

“Hath thy servant been of service, for in mine eyes it seems he is of no account,”

“Verily, this knave conveyed mine baggage to mine chambers and commenced to assist me in the unburdening thereof, and did answer the door to thee, he is of service,” Pac defended, he didn’t want Tubbo to get in trouble.

“Fare ye well, I must now bid thee adieu. I shall be heavily occupied during the coming week, hosting the Kingdom of the Federation. Shouldst thou desire to grace King Cucurucho with thy presence, I beseech thee to don formal attire,”

“Attire befits a king’s court, yet there thou hast not beheld me beyond those garments fit for travel. Pray thee, deem them not common,”

“Verily thou speakest truth, Tubbo. Fetch him his repast when the ninth hour tolls,”

The King left the room and Tubbo walked back over to him, aiding him in placing his garments in the appropriate locations. Pac lifted out a box of tools, and Tubbo looked at him with a strange expression.

“Is something wrong?” Pac asked.

“Why do you, a prince, need tools?”

“To fix my leg of course,” Pac smirked.

He lifted his trouser leg, and Tubbo’s expression widened, before he lowered his gaze to the ground and apologised for asking.

“Tubbo, it’s fine, I don’t mind,”

“I assumed you’d be sensitive about the topic, my King is,”

“His prosthetic is on display, mine is not, yet he is the self-conscious one?” Pac questioned.

“Yes, I shouldn’t pry, I’m sorry, your highness,”

“Tubbo,”

“Yes?”

“I hold no title in this land, and I won’t for a moon, but even once I do, I wish to be your friend, I care little for the rule of not befriending staff, it is odd to me, in my Kingdom, Favela, most of our servants are friends, my old guard, Felps, was a kind soul, and fourth father to our son-”

“Son?”

“Shit,”

“You have a son?”

“Shh, you tell nobody, please,”

“Of course I won’t, confidentiality is key,”

“Not even your King, please, his identity is secret, we want to protect him, please, Tubbo,”

“I won’t gossip, I promise, not even to my King, I serve you mainly, he assigned me this position which means I obey you,”

“I still want to be your friend… if you’ll be mine?” 

“I would like that, but it is against the King’s rules and I do not wish you for you to be in trouble or my head to be lost,”

“We won’t tell anyone, will my guard snitch?”

“Yes, he will, he is most loyal,”

“Then his post shall be outside of my chambers, whilst we commune inside, are you not loyal?”

“My birth Kingdom is not 2b2t,”

“What Kingdom do you stem from?”

“I am not sure, I can’t remember, but I know it was not here,”

“How?”

“I have amnesia, I was banished, I believe, otherwise there is no explanation for my injuries, but Philza found me, nursed me to health and presented me before the King, and I took the position of servant,”

“That is most interesting, I am not of royal blood, I am unaware if that is common information but I grew up poor, in an orphanage in fact, my original father passed, but the King prior to Cellbit adopted my brother and I,”

“That is not common knowledge, Favela is a Kingdom of friendship but it does have its secrets, that's how all the other Kingdoms see it,”

“That is a view I did not consider… thank you,”

“No problem, I will walk to the kitchens to fetch you food now, I believe your purveyor of culinary delights had made something,”

“I shall see you momentarily then, or might I be able to come with you?”

“I don’t know, what permissions has the King given you?”

“He did say I could go to the Kitchens as one of the four chambers I am allowed to inhabit,”

“Well then, shall we take a stroll through the castle, I can show you around too,”

“That would be pleasant, should I change first, if there are guests present, I do not wish for them to see me in my travelling clothes,”

“Probably,"

Pac and Tubbo walked through the castle, attempting to dodge the eyes of important people, such as the King and the visiting King and Princess. Pac wondered why they had visitors coming down if they were going to attack his Kingdom at the same time, it made little sense to him, and he supposed he would never get the answer, he wasn’t going to ask the King, he could bring himself to call King Fit, his King, not yet, that was still Cellbit. 

Once they arrived in the castle’s kitchen, Pac introduced himself to the many chefs, and caterers. They were all preparing dinner, for their King and prince to enjoy together, and a large feast for tomorrow at lunch, where Pac’s presence would either be mandatory or he couldn’t enter for any reason. 

Tubbo picked up a tray of food from the counter, and then returned to Pac, tray in hand, Pac attempted to take it off him, but Tubbo stated he’d get told off if he let Pac carry it, the two walked back to Pac’s chambers, but on the way bumped into Ramon. 

“Prince Pac!” the boy exclaimed.

“Prince Ramon,” Pac bowed, feeling odd.

“It is not necessary for thee to bow to me, but only to my sire,” Ramon laughed.

“My apologies then, are you off to dinner yourself?” 

“Yes, will you join me?”

“You need time with your dad, I won’t intrude, besides I am getting acquainted with the castle, being toured around by my servant,”

“Oh… okay, Tubbo is a good servant, he used to be mine, before Philza took over, bye Prince Pac,” 

The little boy skipped off, and a few moments later, Philza could be seen running after him, making both Pac and Tubbo chuckle. They returned to Pac’s room, and Tubbo placed Pac’s food on the desk, which was on the far-right side of the room.

“Where is your food?” Pac asked.

“Oh, I don’t eat until after you go to sleep, sir,”

“Why on earth not?”

“It’s the rules,”

“What if I didn’t go to sleep, and remained awake all night long?”

“Then I wouldn’t get dinner nor breakfast, I must do both while you are asleep,”

“I command it otherwise, I do not eating alone, you are to eat with me, from tomorrow onwards, is that understood,” Pac laughed.

“Yes, your highness,” Tubbo laughed too. 

“How old are you?” Pac suddenly asked, curiosity striking him.

“Nineteen,”

“Oh, wow, you’re young, especially for a servant,”

“Technically my papers state I’m twenty-one,” 

“Why?”

“I have a daughter, not biological, she’s adopted but I needed money to support her, and I couldn’t get a job until I was eighteen… I’ve had this job for three years,”

“You’ve worked as a servant since you were sixteen?”

“Yes, I did what I had to do,”

“I understand that, as I told you I grew up in an orphanage,”

“I assume you had to do things you weren’t proud of,”

“Yes… and I got punished by the King for them,”

“Your father?”

“My adoptive father was sent Mikey and I to punish but he fell in love with us, wanting more children, so… despite not being royals we got adopted, but my punishment was undecided until my eighteenth birthday, and it turned out we were fighting a war against Alcatraz, so I fought in that,”

“As punishment for what?”

“Technically treason… Mikey and I were criminals,”

“What? Your head would’ve been taken here,”

“It was going to be taken, and so was Mike’s, instead of losing my head I lost my leg,”

“You lost it in the war?”

“Sim,”

“What?”

“Shit, sorry, yes,”

“Don’t apologise, you can speak your language,”

“I am not permitted to, Philza and King Fit have declared it,”

“And they have declared that you can’t be friends with me, yet you are attempting to regardless, in privacy I don’t see why you can’t speak your native tongue,”

“Can you understand it?”

“No, but I’d be happy to learn,”

“You’d learn?” 

“Of course,”

“Well, that gives me something to do, while being trapped in this castle, teaching you Portuguese,”

“Happy to help,”

“Sim means yes by the way,”

Tubbo and Pac continued to laugh and play games, Pac had tried small parts of the food available but it all tasted sour, and unfamiliar, making him wish for food from Favela, he wasn’t normally picky and he felt guilty that all the staff had slaved away to make his food yet his disliked it. 

He offered it to Tubbo, who after a long discussion, finally accepted. It took a lot of effort for Pac to get the man to accept, he wanted him to be his friend. Eventually Tubbo left and went to sleep himself, in the servant’s quarters, wherever that was, Pac was sure he’d find out one day.

My Dearest Journal,

My first day in 2b2t has been a lot, upon mine arrival, I was forthwith escorted to the presence of His Royal Highness, the Prince, It doth appear not that he holds enmity toward me, excepting that his sire taketh not a bride for love's accord.

I have encountered my manservant, Tubbo. It is my noble desire to elevate him through the bonds of companionship, thereby dissolving the traditional barriers that divide master and servant, He is a sweet person, but very afeard of the rules; he's but nineteen, a mere babe in sooth. He hath shown great kindness, and continues to grant me the title of prince, as does Prince Ramon; however, all others address me simply by my given name, as though we were family.

 I am in a state of great perplexity and inner turmoil. While I desire to establish amicable relations with the esteemed Tubbo, my heart yearns for the comforts of home and the companionship of mine esteemed companions: Mike, Bagi, Felps, Richas, and Cellbit. I crave the embrace of my kin. Furthermore, a profound sense of guilt weighs heavy upon my soul, for I perceive a multitude of injustices within these hallowed halls. The treatment accorded to the servants, the restrictions placed upon my movements, and the unfamiliarity of the English tongue are but a few sources of my unease. The unfamiliar cuisine and the relentless pace of courtly life have left me utterly exhausted, and barely a single day has passed since my arrival. 

The nuptials are of some distancy, yet I am expected that mine own purview be directed thusly. However, that doth not fill me with delight. Young Tubbo hath provided respite; and shall continue to do so provided he doth maintain his curiosity in the language of Favela. He appears of a good countenance and is willing to overlook some of the monarch's less weighty edicts. However, he hath stated that thy designated guard, whom I am to meet upon the morrow, shall not do the same.

I shall retire to my solitude prior to the morrow, for I am uncertain of my fate, whether I shall discourse with the sovereign liege or remain secluded within the bounds of my private sanctum.

Dearest Pac.

Pac was woken by Tubbo, after sunrise, so apparently ,according to Philza, late. Tubbo walked in holding a tray of food, some for himself too, and not just Pac, he hoped. Tubbo placed the tray down on the desk, just as he had done the night prior, and smiled at Pac, before walking out of the room, muttering some words with someone, and walking Pac’s guard inside 

“My Liege Prince Pac, behold Bad, your newly appointed sentinel,” Tubbo stated.

“Thank you, where is your post?” Pac asked.

“With you,” Bad answered.

“Wherefore I might place thee without the door of the chamber of mine own presence?”

“If you so wish,”

“Then that is your post until we move, understood?”

“Yes,”

Bad walked outside the room, closing the door behind him, Pac walked over to the food Tubbo had placed down, none of it look appetising, in fact it looked grim to him, and he didn’t really want to eat anyway. He noticed there were two portions on the tray, one for Tubbo, he was glad his servant took his order, despite it not being his original orders.

“So… Tubbo, what are we doing today?” Pac asked.

“It is up to you, my prince, except for your lunch hour, which is with King Fit, Prince Ramon, King Cucurucho and Princess Elena,” 

“I assume I am dressing formal for that,”

“Yes, the King had ordered it,”

“May you aid me in choosing something to wear?”

“Of course,”

Tubbo and Pac spent twenty minutes figuring out what clothes Pac should wear, what jewellery he should wear, and how he should style his hair. The two laughed loudly, before realising that Bad was outside and could hear them ‘being friends’ so they quieted down. 

“That one is what I am wearing for the wedding,” Pac stated, pointing at the far-left outfit in the wardrobe.

“You aren’t going to get new clothes?” 

“They are new, never worn, and tailored to me, originally I was going to wear them to Cellbit’s wedding but… Bagi convinced me to wear it to my own,”

“I find it strange that royals don’t plan their own weddings, do you not want to make it your own?”

“We do in Favela, Cellbit’s wedding preparations were being planned by him, it just means that the wedding takes longer to plan as he has Kingly duties as well,”

“Allow me to rephrase, do you not want to plan your own wedding?” 

“I do… but I do not wish to be a hassle, so I assigned my sister to help,”

“That’s why so many crows are leaving the castle,”

“Potentially, anyway, I am in need of a wash, is there a bathroom through that door?” Pac asked.

“Yes, both a shower and a bath,”

“Excellent, will you wait here?”

“I will deliver the tray back to the kitchen and then return, if that’s okay?”

“Of course it is, and Bad?”

“He will stay outside your room,”

“Okay, thank you Tubbo.

Pac walked into his private bathroom, and showered. The water pressure was different and the water just generally felt different on his skin and in his hair, but he supposed he was imagining it. 

Lunch came quickly, Pac was changed and had his hair done, he felt presentable, but was unsure of whether he should wear his crown or not. Probably not, but then again King Fit did tell him he’d need it, but he wasn’t King consort yet, so technically he had no royal status, as he was no longer in Favela. 

Knocking came to his door, Ramon stood outside and rushed, once Tubbo had opened the door, and immediately ran over to Pac, who was sitting at his desk, applying some makeup that Bagi had gifted him. King Fit stood at the door, and he waited. 

“Pac, are you wearing your crown?” Ramon asked, seeing Pac’s crown laying on his desk.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure I’m supposed to,” he admitted.

“Wear it,” Ramon said.

“Ramon, I’m not sure that’s how it works,”

“You heard the boy, wear it,” King Fit laughed.

“Okay then, I will,”

“What are you putting on your face?” Ramon asked.

“Makeup,”

“Isn’t that for girls?”

“Traditionally in most Kingdoms, yes, but in my Kingdom all genders use it, it was a gift from my sister, and it makes me look less like I’m a corpse risen from the dead,” Pac joked and Ramon laughed.

“We need to get going,” Fit stated, “Hold my hand and pretend you love me, and whatnot,”

“Okay then… is Tubbo coming with us? Or Bad?” 

“He’s your servant, why would he? And we have other guards,”

“I don’t know the customs of your Kingdom,”

“Perhaps I should schedule you a tutoring session along with Ramon,” King Fit stated.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” 

The two arrived outside of the dining room, inside Pac could hear the familiar voice of King Cucurucho, Ramon was bouncing up and down on his feet, and Pac felt his hand be grabbed by King Fit. He rolled his eyes, sighed and then the three of them began to walk forwards, into the room. 

They sat down with King Fit at the head of the table, Pac to his right and Ramon to his left, King Cucurucho was sat next to Pac, and Princess Elena beside Ramon. 

“King Fit,” King Cucurucho smiled, “It is nice to see you again,”

“And you, too, I trust you have made the acquaintance of my son, and my intended,”

“Verily, I have, Prince Pac. Pleasant tidings greet thee upon this day, doth it not? From Favela thou hast journeyed, I perceive. Pray tell, how fares King Fit in his treatment of thee?”

“Verily, he is most gracious, and hath made me feel most welcome hither, as have all others,”

“I did not expect King Cellbit to bestow your hand in marriage,” King Cucurucho smirked.

“I did choose my beloved, and not him,”

“'Tis a most curious tale, of how thou first made acquaintance, a matter nigh upon...unbelievable,” 

“Doubt ye us twain, he whom I am betrothed unto and myself?” King Fit asked.

“I wouldst hereby maketh known, 'tis but few that mayst make acquaintance by way of letter,”

“Sovereign Cucurucho, as your majesty is no doubt aware, during my tenure in his royal court in Favela, I rendered invaluable assistance to King Cellbit in the discharge of his kingly duties. Among these duties was the forging of an alliance with King Fit, an event that marked our initial encounter,” Pac lied.

“You flirted with each other during kingly duties?” 

“Everyone has their faults,” King Fit stated.

“Don’t speak ill of my dads,” Ramon said.

Chapter Text

Fit sat in his chambers, on his bed. He was tired, returning from Favela and then immediately hosting another Kingdom was exhausting, and he had to have lunch with said Kingdom in about thirty minutes, he should be getting ready, changing into official robes, and his crown but he really couldn’t find the energy to. Pac was supposed to be there too, meaning he would have to pretend to be in love, the thought bothered him, he disliked pretending to be in love, but he couldn’t act like it was somebody else’s fault, it was his choice, Philza gave him the option, threaten to attack, threaten marriage or leave the Kingdom of Favela alone, he chose the first two, and gave them the choice, he didn’t expect them to choose marriage, but it could’ve been predicted, King Cellbit had been the only King in history to have never had a war in his reign, King Fit had, the Kingdom of 2b2t had many wars, currently none, the Kingdom of Purgatory and the Kingdom of the Federation had a war, where Purgatory won, Philza was a great King. Essentially the Kingdom of Favela hadn’t had a war since Cellbit took the throne, and the King had faced multiple public threats of it. 

Eventually Fit rose from his bed and began to get ready, changing into his official robes, placing his crown on top of his head, and heading towards Ramon’s chambers, where he’d also have to wrangle the boy into his own robes. 

He knocked on his son’s door, to be welcomed in by Philza, and he surprisingly saw an already dressed Ramon, who was deciding on which of his three crowns to wear. The sight made Fit chuckle. He placed his hand on Ramon’s shoulder, causing the boy to jump, unaware of Fit’s entrance into his room.

“Fit, what are you doing here?”

“We have a royal lunch to attend my boy, I assumed you hadn’t started getting ready, I was here to remind you,”

“I am getting ready,”

“Philza, you must be a miracle worker,”

“No, he isn’t, I chose to get ready on time, thank you,”

“Okay my boy,”

“I want to make a good impression,”

“That’s good, King Cucurucho is a powerful ally to have-”

“No, not to King Cucurucho, to Prince Pac,”

“What?”

“Yeah, to Prince Pac,”

“Why?”

“He is to live with us, and to the public be my third father,”

“Second father,” Fit corrected, “My marriage was annulled, and then he was executed,”

“Fine, second father, but I want him to like me,”

“I’m sure he will-”

“But we took him from his family,”

“Ramon, you did nothing, I did, he can be mad at me, just not in public,”

“But I am your son,”

“And?”

“And the prince of 2b2t, doesn’t that mean any decision you make as King is partially on me, as I am heir?”

“No, it does not mean that,”

“When you marry Prince Pac does that mean I am no longer heir?”

“No, you’ll be heir,”

“But if you die first, doesn’t he become King?”

“Only if you aren’t of age,”

“Oh…”

“Or if you relinquish the throne,”

“Why would I do that?”

“I am unsure my boy, before Kings and Princes have done so before,”

“Didn’t Prince Pac?”

“What? How do you know?”

“My tutor decided to teach me about the Kingdom of Favela, and Prince Pac was heir, but Cellbit became King,”

“That’s true, he did… but don’t ask him about it,”

“Why?”

“He seems defensive,”

“Okay… are we meeting him before lunch?”

“Yes, we will make our way to his chambers now,”

Fit and Ramon began to walk towards Pac’s chambers, Ramon laughing and talking to his dad the entire way. Fit smiled, despite not being able to see Ramon often, he did love his son and seeing him laugh melted his heart.

They knocked on his door, it was opened by Tubbo, but Ramon rushed past the servant, who immediately bowed at Fit, he waved his hand allowing the man to rise. 

“Pac, are you wearing your crown?” Ramon asked, seeing Pac’s crown laying on his desk.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure I’m supposed to,” 

“Wear it,” Ramon said.

“Ramon, I’m not sure that’s how it works,”

“You heard the boy, wear it,” King Fit laughed.

“Okay then, I will,”

“What are you putting on your face?” Ramon asked.

“Makeup,”

“Isn’t that for girls?”

In 2b2t Makeup was solely for girls, Fit hadn't noticed Pac applying it, if he had before Ramon had asked he would’ve forbade it, but it was too late. Social standards could change, and besides technically Pac was supposed to be more feminine than him, in society the King consort would be more feminine than the King, or at least that’s how it had been for the past three hundred years of 2b2t.

“Traditionally yes, but in my Kingdom all genders use it, it was a gift from my sister, and it makes me look less like I’m a corpse risen from the dead,” Pac joked.

“We need to get going,” Fit stated, “Hold my hand and pretend you love me, and whatnot,”

“Okay then… is Tubbo coming with us? Or Bad?” 

“He’s your servant, why would he? And we have other guards,” Fit asked, confused.

“I don’t know the customs of your Kingdom,”

“Perhaps I should schedule you a tutoring session along with Ramon,” King Fit stated, annoyed that Pac hadn’t done any research.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” 

They walked towards the meeting room, Fit grabbed Pac’s hand when the man did not make a move to grab his, he sighed, annoyed, Pac needed to learn his place, otherwise Fit was going to get really annoyed, and a pissed off King Fit was not a good thing, everyone in the castle knew that, and Pac would learn it, either by word of mouth, or by a first-hand experience.

“King Fit,” King Cucurucho smiled, “It is nice to see you again,”

“And you, too, I trust you have made the acquaintance of my son, and my intended,”

“Verily, I have, Prince Pac. Pleasant tidings greet thee upon this day, doth it not? From Favela thou hast journeyed, I perceive. Pray tell, how fares King Fit in his treatment of thee?”

“Verily, he is most gracious, and hath made me feel most welcome hither, as have all others,”

“I did not expect King Cellbit to bestow your hand in marriage,” King Cucurucho smirked.

“I did choose my beloved, and not him,”

“'Tis a most curious tale, of how thou first made acquaintance, a matter nigh upon...unbelievable,” 

“Doubt ye us twain, he whom I am betrothed unto and myself?” King Fit asked.

“I wouldst hereby maketh known, 'tis but few that mayst make acquaintance by way of letter,”

“Sovereign Cucurucho, as your majesty is no doubt aware, during my tenure in his royal court in Favela, I rendered invaluable assistance to King Cellbit in the discharge of his kingly duties. Among these duties was the forging of an alliance with King Fit, an event that marked our initial encounter,” Pac lied.

“You flirted with each other during kingly duties?” 

“Everyone has their faults,” King Fit stated.

“Don’t speak ill of my dads,” Ramon said. 

Both Fit and Pac snapped their heads towards Ramon, Fit was unsure if his boy was serious, he had spoken of wanting a second father, but that was beside the point, he didn’t believe he would say such a thing, especially in front of another King.

“My most esteemed Prince Ramon, I not speak ill of the sires of thee but isn’t Pac your Pai not your dad?” King Cucurucho asked. 

“What does Pai mean?” Ramon asked. 

“It means dad in Portuguese,” Pac stated. 

“Oh, then yes Pai Pac, and Dad Fit,”

“I marvel, thou hast not taught him that already,” Cucurucho stated.

“I have established myself here for a single day, the pronunciation of word cannot communicate correctly through letters, we shall commence this task in due course,” Pac defended.

“Verily, our purpose here is not to delve into discourse concerning my progeny and my betrothed, though I hold them both in great affection,” Fit stated, “We are gathered in this regal hall to deliberate upon the mercantile arteries that connect our sovereign realms,”

“Verily, the paths of commerce are fraught with peril, and it is my fervent desire to preserve the lives of mine esteemed merchants, whose trials are manifold,”

“Be it known that the trade routes are ancient,” Fit stated, “Wherefore can we not conceive novel ones?”

“Seeing that such has been the custom for three hundred years,”

“If I may interrupt,” Pac asked.

“Go ahead,” Fit permitted.

“Ye did create new trade routes with Favela, and the custom had been one of five hundred years,”

“What?” Fit asked.

“Verily, last summer, we established novel trade routes, did we not, King Cucurucho?”

“Verily, the manner in which ye came by such knowledge perplexes me, for verily I did discourse of this matter with none save the sovereign liege King Cellbit, and King Cellbit alone. Yet, in sooth, the words that thou speakest hold truth within them,”

“My knowledge of the matters at hand is my own concern, but I was an advisor to King Cellbit, and performed kingly duties myself,”

“Pac, shut up, by the grace of our sovereign, King Cucurucho, we inquire as to your concerns regarding the established trade networks. Do you seek to dissolve their existence?”

“Yes,”

“Why?”

“The realm of the Federation doth desire no further entanglements with the realm of 2b2t.”

“Why?”

“Know ye that, in verity, the cause whereof thus we find ourselves compelled to respond to thy challenge is none other than our erstwhile ignorance of the sanguinary proclivities that pervade the realm of 2b2t. Thou hast proclaimed thy bellicose intent towards the kingdoms of warfare, engaged in countless armed conflicts, and dost resort to capital punishment without hesitation in meting out justice. Furthermore, we are apprised of thy veiled threats directed towards thy betrothed, whom we suspect harbours no sincere affection for thee,”

“Wherefore, doth this declaration signify thine intent to divest thyself from all entanglements and dealings with the sovereign reign of Favela?” Pac asked. 

“Pac, I told you to shut up,”

“In the face of adversity, I cannot find solace in romance, my Liege Prince Pac. I have no desire to sever ties with the Kingdom of Favela,”

“Hence, it behooves thee not to sever ties with the Kingdom of 2b2t, for I hold title in both realms. King Cellbit wouldst be displeased, and King Cellbit's betrothed holds title in the Kingdom of Fools. If his betrothed be not pleased, then neither shall he, and that constitutes three Kingdoms against thee. I could say more, but I shall hold my tongue, as my King has counseled me,”

“Are you threatening me?

“Ramon, I want you to go to your room,” Fit said, voice stern, no room for argument. 

Ramon immediately got up from his seat, lifted his plate with him and darted out the room, without a guard, something poor in planning admittedly but nothing happened so all was fine. 

“Verily, King Cucurucho, I wield influence that eludes your grasp. Prudence dictates that thou maintain amicable relations with my sovereign domain,” Fit began, “Fair gentle, thou mayest question the truth of our bond, yet be warned that thine malicious tongue wags vainly against us. Our alliances stretch far and wide, from the outcasts of Favela to the wise of Fools, from the fires of Purgatory to the nascent realms. Cease thy slanders upon our doorstep, or thou shalt find thyself less welcome than thine own shadow. Our trade shall persist, but shouldst thou deem it unsafe, we shall forge new paths. Is our meaning clear?”

“Yes, it is clear,”

Fit had scheduled a talk with Pac, he shouldn’t have spoken out in the meeting, especially against Fit’s word, even if he was trying to help, and did succeed. He was slowly getting more and more pissed off with Pac, King Cellbit assured him that the man would behave, he had yet to prove himself.

He was walking to Pac’s room, and was let inside by Bad, who was posted outside, something Fit found curious. Inside he saw Tubbo sat on Pac’s bed, laughing alongside him, the two, upon seeing him, immediately froze. 

“Get out,” he spat at Tubbo.

Tubbo bowed, before immediately running out of the room in terror. 

“Stand,”

Pac rose from his bed, shaking slightly yet that didn’t prevent Fit’s next words.

“You, spoke out in the meeting,”

“Yes but-”

“DO NOT INTERRUPT ME,”

“Sorry…”

“YOU SPOKE OUT, IN THE MEETING WITH A FOREIGN KING, I DO NOT CARE IF YOU WERE TRYING TO HELP, I DO NOT CARE IF IT WORKED, I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP AND YOU NEED TO RESPECT THAT,”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry,”

“I AM NOT DONE, NOT ONLY THAT BUT YOU WERE LAUGHING WITH A SERVANT, I TOLD YOU NOT TO BEFRIEND THEM, THEY ARE OF A LOWER CLASS THAN YOU, THEY ARE NOT TO BE YOUR FRIEND, THEY ARE TO SERVE YOU, AND NOW I HAVE TO PUNISH TUBBO, HE WAS A GOOD SERVANT ONCE,”

“NO!”

“YOU DARE YELL AT ME?”

“No, please, don’t punish Tubbo, it was my fault, punish me instead,” Pac begged.

“I DO AS I PLEASE, AND I BELIEVE HE IS IN NEED OF PUNISHMENT,”

“I aimed to help you, I wanted somebody to talk to, in my opinion I have done nothing wrong, yet you disagree,”

“SHUT UP, I AM NOT DONE,”

“I have done nothing wrong, at least not in my Kingdom, but in yours I have, rules I do not agree with, Tubbo did nothing, he did not want to befriend me but you told him to obey my every command, I commanded him to become friends with me, he simply followed your rule,”

“PAC TAZER-”

“DO NOT CALL ME THAT, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO CALL ME THAT, THAT IS MY NAME BEFORE I BECAME A PRINCE, YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT, JUST BECAUSE YOU HEARD IT FROM CELLBIT, MY KING-”

“I AM YOUR KING, I HAVE EVERY RIGHT, YOU ARE NO PRINCE, NOT IN THIS KINGDOM, YOU DON’T EVEN ACT LIKE ONE,”

“NO WONDER YOU ARE CALLED THE CRUEL KING, YOU CARE FOR NOBODY,”

“I CARE FOR RAMON,”

“YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD, WOW,”

“AND YOU CARE FOR OTHERS?”

“YES, I CARE FOR BAGI AND CELLBIT, MY NON-BIOLOGICAL SIBLINGS, FELPS MY GUARD AND SERVANT, I CARE FOR TUBBO, MY NEW SERVANT, HE TREATS ME LIKE A HUMAN, UNLIKE YOU AND THE REST OF YOUR STAFF,”

“YOU HAVE BEEN HERE A SINGLE DAY, WATCH YOUR MOUTH, I CAN REMOVE MORE OF YOUR RIGHTS IF YOU SO WISH, HOW ABOUT NO COMMUNICATION WITH FAVELA, UNTIL THE WEDDING?”

“What?”

“IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?”

“No, no, please, I-”

“THEN WATCH YOURSELF, I AM YOUR KING, I CAN PUNISH YOU, I CAN TECHNICALLY TAKE YOUR HEAD, IF YOU COMMIT TREASON, WHICH DISOBEYING YOUR KING COULD BE CONSIDERED AS,”

“I’m sorry,”

“NOT SO DEFIANT NOW, ARE YOU?”

“No, no, please, I’m sorry,”

“GOOD, I WILL SEE YOU TOMORROW, AND YOU BETTER BE WELL BEHAVED, EVEN MY BOY, WHO IS TEN YEARS OLD, IS BETTER BEHAVED THAN YOU,”

“I’m sorry,”

“You will learn,”

The next day Fit woke up late, the sun had already risen, and he panicked, assuming he was late for his meetings, but Etoiles, who was stood outside his door, assured him that he wasn’t, that he had an hour before his first meeting, so he could get himself some food. 

He was also informed that Ramon had already had breakfast without him, something that broke his heart a little, and then he found out that his son had woken Pac up to have breakfast with him instead, choosing Pac over Fit.

Fit walked over to the dining room, warm food waiting for him, inside Pac and Ramon were still eating together, he could hear Ramon speaking, asking Pac about Favela.

“Why won’t you teach me Portuguese?” Ramon asked.

“Uh- because I’m not allowed to speak it,” Pac admitted.

“Why not?” Ramon asked.

“I don’t know why, but King Fit and Philza told me not to, so…”

Fit walked inside, collecting his food from the table, about to walk out with it but Ramon had jumped up and grabbed his sleeve, and pulled him back to the table. 

“Dad?”

“Yes Ramon, be quick I have to get going?”

“No, you don’t,”

“What?”

“You don’t have to get going, you don’t have a single meeting for at least an hour, so sit and have breakfast with Pac and I,”

“Fine, what were you going to ask?” Fit said as he sat down.

“Why can’t Pac speak Portuguese here?”

“Because we can’t understand it,”

“We would if you let him teach us,”

“Ramon, the answer is no,”

“Why not? I’m learning French, I know Spanish, why is Portuguese any different?”

“Because the last time you learnt a language from someone they turned and betrayed you, okay? Etoiles is different, he has had his loyalty tested multiple times,”

“Spreen didn’t betray me, he betrayed you,”

“RAMON,”

“It’s true, and besides Prince Pac can’t betray you, even if he wanted to, he has a contract to abide by,”

“What do you think a marriage is?” Fit asked.

“When people love each other they decided to connect,”

“No, it’s a contract, one of union, love is not in its definition, but it is implied, Spreen married me, he had a contract too, yet he defied it, hence why he lost his head, same rules as Pac,”

“At least Spreen spent time with me, you were going to ditch our breakfast together,”

“Because you decided to have it with Pac, I thought you would prefer me not to be here,”

“Can I be excused?” Pac asked.

“No, please stay,” Ramon asked.

“Okay…”

“Ramon… my boy, I love you dearly, but when Spreen left me, he left you too, I know you don’t want to see it that way, and neither do I, but it’s the truth,”

“Pac, will you leave us?”

“Uh-”

“You have known Pac less than a day, why do you care?”

Chapter Text

Pac was scared, the King had just yelled at him, someone he didn’t know yelled at him, like he was a child, and he froze, like an idiot. He’d been in a fucking war and lost his leg, but somebody yelling at him made him freeze. It was pathetic, or at least that’s what Pac thought. 

Tubbo had returned and King Fit had left, he hoped Tubbo wouldn’t get punished, he begged for Tubbo’s sake, the boy was only young, and didn’t deserve punishment. 

“Prince Pac?” Tubbo asked, “Are you okay?”

“No…”

“What happened?”

“He yelled at me, like I was a child, and I froze,”

“Oh-”

“He said he was going to punish you, and I begged him not to, I’m so sorry, Tubbo, believe me please,”

“I believe you,”

“Thank you, he also yelled because I spoke against his command,”

“In the meeting with King Cucurucho?”

“Sim, I was only trying to help,”

“And you can’t argue with the King… I’m sorry,”

“It’s not your fault, but I may have yelled back,”

“I thought you said you froze,”

“I did, originally, then I yelled back, when he called me by my name,”

“Your name? Prince Pac Lange of Favela,”

“Não, my real name, Pac Tazer, my King told him by accident,”

“You aren’t Pac Lange?”

“Não, that’s the royal family’s name, I am not of royal blood,”

“You did say, I forgot that you would have had a different surname,”

“Yes, well I did, and… he used it,”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Yes, because only my King, my brother, the crown prince, and my late fathers can call me that,”

“Why?”

“Because it is a name I have abandoned, my King, Cellbit, can do as he wishes, Mikey has the same surname and one of my late fathers did too, and the other was King before Cellbit,”

“Oh, that makes sense, if you’ve left it behind, but it explains why when I walked past King Fit he looked pissed, I pray that he doesn’t tell anyone it’s your fault,”

“Why?”

“Because in our Kingdom, when King Fit is pissed it means everyone and anyone could be at risk of an execution, or the dungeons,”

“WHAT?”

“Yeah, if you go against him, unfortunately for him, you are the one person he can’t truly punish, he’ll have to get creative,”

“He’s already gotten creative,” Pac grumbled.

“What did he threaten?” 

“To cut my contact with my family, up until the wedding,”

“You are permitted letters, but you haven’t even sent one, how can he cut it off before you’ve sent one?”

“I am unsure, but that is what he threatened, so now I must act as if I am a lap dog, following his every command, despite it going against everything I believe in,”

“Okay, so no more friendship, no more Portuguese-”

“Minus those two,”

“Oh? May I ask why?”

“He can’t control my language and something neither can I, I’ll wake up and be too tired to think in English, and revert to my mother tongue, and I do wish to be friends with at least one person in the castle, or the rest of my life will be incredibly lonely,”

“That seems valid,”

The next day, Pac was woken by Tubbo, informing him that he had breakfast with Ramon. Pac’s heart sank. He hadn’t really eaten since he arrived, it had only been a few days but he didn’t want to set a bad example in front of the Prince. The food here tasted odd, foreign even, but never quite right, despite some of it being the same exact food that he would get in Favela. 

He walked following Tubbo, who had barely spoken a word to him. He was kind last night after Fit left, but he could tell Tubbo still had doubts about being his friend, and the fact that Bad, his knight, was following them. 

It was early, earlier than Pac was used to waking up, but the whole castle was awake, except the King, something that he was told was odd, so Ramon had chosen to have breakfast with Pac instead, he found the thought sweet. He walked inside, where the boy was already sat, Bad positioned himself outside the door, and Tubbo walked into the kitchen.

“Prince Pac!” Ramon exclaimed.

“Prince Ramon!” he mimicked. 

“You came,” he smiled.

“Of course I did, you requested it,”

“You didn’t eat dinner with Fit and I, I requested that too,”

“I have other things to sort out, but from now on I will try my hardest to fulfil your requests,”

“Thank you, so will you teach me Portuguese?”

“No, sorry,”

“Why won’t you teach me Portuguese?” Ramon asked.

“Uh- because I’m not allowed to speak it,” Pac admitted.

“Why not?” Ramon asked.

“I don’t know why, but King Fit and Philza told me not to, so…”

Fit walked inside, collecting his food from the table, about to walk out with it but Ramon had jumped up and grabbed his sleeve, and pulled him back to the table. 

“Dad?”

“Yes Ramon, be quick I have to get going?”

“No, you don’t,”

“What?”

“You don’t have to get going, you don’t have a single meeting for at least an hour, so sit and have breakfast with Pac and I,”

“Fine, what were you going to ask?” Fit said as he sat down.

“Why can’t Pac speak Portuguese here?”

“Because we can’t understand it,”

“We would if you let him teach us,”

“Ramon, the answer is no,”

“Why not? I’m learning French, I know Spanish, why is Portuguese any different?”

“Because the last time you learnt a language from someone they turned and betrayed you, okay? Etoiles is different, he has had his loyalty tested multiple times,”

“Spreen didn’t betray me, he betrayed you,”

“RAMON,”

“It’s true, and besides Prince Pac can’t betray you, even if he wanted to, he has a contract to abide by,”

“What do you think a marriage is?” Fit asked.

“When people love each other they decided to connect,”

“No, it’s a contract, one of union, love is not in its definition, but it is implied, Spreen married me, he had a contract too, yet he defied it, hence why he lost his head, same rules as Pac,”

“At least Spreen spent time with me, you were going to ditch our breakfast together,”

“Because you decided to have it with Pac, I thought you would prefer me not to be here,”

“Can I be excused?” Pac asked.

“No, please stay,” Ramon asked.

“Okay…”

“Ramon… my boy, I love you dearly, but when Spreen left me, he left you too, I know you don’t want to see it that way, and neither do I, but it’s the truth,”

“Pac, will you leave us?”

“Uh-”

“You have known Pac less than a day, why do you care?”

“BECAUSE HE’S THE CLOSEST THING I’LL EVER GET TO A DAD,”

“You have me,” King Fit said, hurt cracking his voice.

“Not when you avoid me, not when we never spend any time together, not when you send me to be raised by nanny,”

“Ramon I-”

“No, I’m tired Fit, I want a dad, and you couldn’t give me one you love, so I will love him,”

“I’m beginning to think I should leave,” Pac stated, feeling uncomfortable.

“Sit,” Fit stated.

“How many days of my life have you been there for?”

“I’ve been there for exactly-”

“If you can count then it hasn’t been enough,”

“You are right,” 

“Other fathers don’t abandon their kids for their jobs, they find balance, why can’t you?”

“Other fathers aren’t the King of 2b2t,”

“But other Kings are fathers,” Pac whispered, and unfortunately for him, he was heard.

“What did you say?” Fit spat.

“He’s right, other Kings are fathers, Philza first became a father while he was still King, Cucurucho is Elena’s father, King Foolish and King consort Vegetta are fathers to Roier and Leonarda,”

Fit sighed.

“You know what Pac, I think it is time you leave my son and I alone,”

“I agree, bye Ramon,” Pac rushed out of the room. 

Pac sat in his room, writing a letter to his family, one he didn’t know if it would even be delivered, he knew it wouldn’t be private, he knew a team of investigators would read his every word, including translators, in case he wrote in Portuguese which he was. 

Once he completed his letter, he set it to the side. A sigh was released from his chest, his leg ached but he couldn’t take it off, he didn’t know when he could, or when he would, but he didn’t feel safe in a foreign Kingdom without his leg, whether it was the dead of night or the peak of the day. 

My dearest journal,

My trepidation doth wax, for I have ensnared myself in circumstances that prudence should have enjoined me to shun, twice in succession, and it appeareth that His Majesty, King Fit, is wroth concerning my actions. I should conduct myself in a manner befitting my station, yet wherefore do I fail to do so? I did not transgress in such a manner against Cellbit, of that I am certain. To offend twice in the span of two days is naught but utter foolishness.

Upon the egress of King Cucurucho and Princess Elena, my gentle sister, Bagi, hath been given leave to attend and assist in the arrangements for the nuptials, including the duty of providing me with solace and peace of mind, as per the decree of His Majesty. This day, Tubbo hath scarce spoken with me, and I am filled with unease. By my actions upon my arrival, I have brought both him and myself into disfavor, which is a cause for grave concern, particularly if I still desire his friendship.

In the event that King Fit, once more, provokes me, I have conceived a stratagem, though its prospects of success be tenuous. I shall issue a challenge to engage him in a duel, wherein the victor shall be determined by the one who pins the other to the earth for a duration of ten seconds. He, being from a realm steeped in warfare and having engaged in numerous conflicts, shall overreach in his estimation of his prowess. However, what he knows not is that I am among, if not the most gifted swordsman in this realm. In my former life as a humble peasant, I wielded a blade and engaged in combat with countless adversaries for compensation, in those days, I was proclaimed the most skilled of all the five Kingdoms, whether the tales be true or not. But be that as it may, I vanquished a hundred men, though but a fledgling, wan and lean of frame.

I am in raptures for Bagi's arrival; I shall see my kin anon, yet at that tide it shall be a fortnight since my own arrival, as she is not bound to set forth for a sennight and a half hence. The anguish of not beholding my son each day is nigh unto unbearable, in especial since Ramon speaketh evermore of me becoming his sire, a thing that doth enrage his Majesty.
I harbour trepidation concerning the impending gathering this day, convened to discourse upon the nuptial union. Verily, I am not inclined towards beholding the countenance of King Fit, nor am I willing to brook the abnegation of my cherished customs. Furthermore, I shall not countenance a wedding ceremony that falls short of my aspirations. This union, albeit with an individual who fails to stir my affections, shall transpire in accordance with my desires, for this occasion shall grace my life but once. Hence, should King Fit pass from this mortal realm, I am free to seek matrimony anew. Few, indeed, exercise this option, finding it undesirable to unite with he who hath already given his troth. But I doubt he shall depart this mortal realm ere long, leaving me to languish in the twilight of my years.

I have accomplished this for Cellbit. I have accomplished this for Mike. I have accomplished this for Bagi. I have accomplished this for Richas, and most importantly, I have accomplished this for my Kingdom. Innocent men and women should not be forced to surrender their lives to war, because none of the royal family wished to wed a man - not just any man, but a King.

Dearest Pac

The next day, Pac sat in his room, alone. Tubbo had gone to perform some duties, he didn’t know what, he didn’t order it. Bad was positioned outside his room, and he was alone. He felt sorrow, his heart ached to hold Richas again, to cry into Mike’s arms, to laugh with Bagi, or even something as horrid as having Cellbit yell at him. He wanted his family back. 

Unfortunately for him he’d been called to have lunch with King Fit and Prince Ramon, he found the boy sweet but he did wish that he didn’t see Richarlyson in him, the two were alike, both of them with an incredible amount of energy and passions for their specific interests. 

Pac waited to be called to the dining room, he hadn’t eaten since he arrived, it was bordering on three or four days now, he couldn’t remember, and he felt a little weaker, he might have to hold off on his plan to duel Fit, even if the man does piss him off, he needs to be strong, and not eating certainly won’t give him that. 

Eventually Philza came and collected him, causing him to wonder where Tubbo had gone, but he followed, the man leading him to join lunch with King Fit and Prince Ramon, apparently Ramon was the one to request his presence, something that King Fit would never do so Pac supposed that it wasn’t surprising. 

“Prince Pac!” Ramon smiled.

“Prince Ramon,” he smiled back, “And King Fit,”

“Welcome inside,” Fit sighed, serving some food onto his plate.

“Thank you,”

Pac sat down beside Ramon, he did not want to be near King Fit, not if he could help it. 

“Prince Pac, when are you going to buy your suit for the wedding?” Ramon asked.

“I already have it,”

“What?” Fit asked.

“Sim- uh, sorry, yes, I do, Bagi told me to wear it,”

“Thou shalt don no raiment that hath been afore adorned,”

“It’s new, I promise, I’ve never worn the garment,”

“Can I see it?” Ramon asked.

“Of course,” Pac smiled.

“What colours is the wedding going to be?” 

“Gold, red, silver and blue,” King Fit answered.

“Ooooh, we can get Lulah to find flowers, and Chayanne can bake the cake-”

“Know well that Ramon, Philza is devising a plan of its own accord, and that if you seek to offer your counsel, you must not address it to us,” Fit stated.

“And Bagi,” Pac defended.

“Yes but he can’t speak to Bagi,”

“Good Ser Philza hath apprised me that thou gavest leave to Her Ladyship for a visitation, a fortnight hence. Didst thou not?”

“I did,”

“Will her chambers be close to mine?”

“No,”

“Why?”

“You sleep in the royal part, she will sleep in the guest part,”

“Guest as in common or royal guest,”

“Royal guest, we do not have common guests,”

“Is Princess Bagi your sister?” Ramon asked.

“Yes, she is, I love her a lot,”

“What’s it like to have siblings? I have Chayanne, Tallulah, Sun- and Dapper, but I am not related to any of them,”

“Sun?” Fit asked.

“Nobody,” Ramon panicked.

“I am but kin to my brother Mike, and well… ere I did depart we were ever at each other's side, he was aye there for me and I for him,”

“Why do you switch between formal and informal speech?”

“Verily, as I lacketh fluency in the English tongue, and the employment of formal speech proveth a complex undertaking, in particular for one such as I, I am thusly constrained to devote conscious effort to this endeavor. Nonetheless, as consort to the future sovereign, I recognize the weighty import of this endeavor,”

“I like you Prince Pac, you are nice,”

“You haven’t touched your food,” King Fit stated.

“Oh- I suppose I haven’t,” Pac panicked. 

“Can I pass you anything?” Ramon asked.

“No, thank you, I’m still deciding, it all looks delicious,”

“Okay,” Ramon smiled, “What’s it like in Favela? My tutor wants me to do a project on it, because I had to do one of any of the five Kingdoms, except for his one, and he thought Favela would be nice since my future pai is from there,”

“Oh, wow, what do you want to know?”

“Colours, what colours are the royal family?”

“That’s more complicated than you’d think,” Pac admitted.

“Really how?”

“Each royal family member is assigned two colours, one metallic and one normal, I am silver and blue, Mike is rose gold and green, Cellbit is bronze and green, and so on,”

“There’s only Bagi left…”

“And the late King, and the late Queen, and the guards, where the colours of their assigned Prince or Princess, my guard Felps, worked for all of us, so he wore silver, as I was the sole person who wore silver, he wore green as both Cellbit and Mike wore it, and instead of wearing Bagi’s colour, he had a sword that she had embroidered part of the handle,”

“The late King, and queen, you don’t speak of your mother much,”

“I scarce make mention of them both, good gentles,”

“I have heard more of your father, than mother,”

“For that her demise doth wound more grievously,”

“Prince Pac?” Ramon asked.

“Yes,”

“How do you get assigned your colours?”

“You get a colour analysis, when you are just a boy, or girl in Bagi’s case,”

“Could I get one?”

“I- I don’t know if I’m the one you should ask,”

“Fit?”

“Pray tell, unto whom should we dispatch a missive to seek audience?” Fit asked.

“I can send a letter to Cellbit, asking him to send the colour analyser along with Bagi,”

“Okay, fine,”

“Bagi could technically do it, but her maiden is exceptionally good at it,”

“Her maiden, did she do yours?”

“No, but her mother did,”

“That makes sense, Ramon once you have finished your meal, please return to tutoring, Pac I need a word with you,”

Pac panicked, King Fit had noticed he wasn’t eating, he even mentioned it, and now he was setting time aside to address the issue. It wasn’t an issue, Pac would just starve himself until he absolutely had no choice but to eat, he wasn’t trying to die. Ramon left the room and Fit turned to face Pac.

“Why aren’t you eating?” 

Chapter Text

Fit had noticed that Pac wasn’t eating, he’d noticed Tubbo walking to and from Pac’s room with a plate full of food, and he honestly couldn’t think of a reason why. He’d noticed it again whilst speaking to him and Ramon, during their breakfast that day, and he needed to confront the man. 

After sending Ramon out of the room, he turned to Pac, and asked him the question, and watched Pac freeze in fear. 

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I am… What do you mean?” Pac lied; Fit knew he was lying.

“Don’t lie to your King, I’ve seen Tubbo walk in and out of your room, with the same plate of food,”

“I…”

“You what?”

“I… um… I- may I be excused? Please?”

“No, we aren’t finished with our conversation and you haven’t feasted,”

Pac had risen when he asked to be excused, but he sank back down into the seat, Fit watched as he grabbed a single grape, and plopped it in his mouth. He pulled a slight face, which was odd, considering that Fit has seen him eat grapes whilst in Favela. 

“What is wrong with the grape?”

“Nothing-”

“I won’t be offended, just speak,”

“It tastes off, I don’t know, less fresh?”

“We get them imported, they don’t grow in 2b2t,”

“Oh…”

“And we don’t have a trade route with Favela, where they are originally grown, so… we get them from Purgatory, who get them from Favela,”

“Seriously?” 

“Yes, I will see about setting up a trade route with King Cellbit, but for now I will have a dietitian join you to discuss foods that don’t taste off,”

“You really don’t have to-”

“Pac, you are to be my husband, whether either of us like it or not, I cannot have you collapsing due to lack of energy,”

“Oh…”

“So, for the love of God and all things holy, eat,”

Pac stood up; Fit could tell he was annoyed but he wasn’t leaving the room without something more than a singular grape in his stomach. He watched as Pac swayed, and he bolted out of his chair, realising that Pac was about to faint. Pac swayed back and forth, before finally collapsing, landing in Fit’s arms just barely. 

Fit had spent many hours in the infirmary, watching the care over Pac’s unconscious body, but eventually he had to leave, Kings had duties. He had seen Tubbo rushing in and out of the infirmary, despite him no longer working for Pac, which was something he had yet to tell the pair, he’d also seen Ramon at the door, asking if Pac was okay, before being rushed to study by Philza. 

Fit waited in his office, he liked the peace it brought, he reviewed the marriage contract, making sure that he hadn’t done anything worthy of war yet, which he hadn’t, and in fact Pac fainting had been the prince's fault. A harsh knock came at the door.

“Enter,” he called.

Niki, the castle witch, the castle medic, and the most caring person in general, entered his room, either she had good news or bad, considering she was the person caring for Pac, and she’d been the one brewing potions to help him regain strength.

“He hath awakened from his swoone, verily, his stability yet wanes, albeit I have bestowed upon him elixirs of glucose to fortify his vigor. Tubbo doth presently tend to his needs. His wits remain somewhat addled, but his eyes have opened, and this is of paramount significance,” Niki stated.

“Pray thee, for thy watchful care, hast thou discerned aught that might be reformed or augmented herein?”

“That Prince Pac should eat would be one boon, but I chiefly require more stores for my potion-craft, your highness, and haply some succor,”

“Roll forth a parchment bearing the list and present it unto Philza, for in his hands shall it guide the acquisition of the provisions thou dost desire. Of aid, however, I hold no knowledge. Whom thinkst thou might lend their succor?”

“I have knowledge of two young maidens of diminutive stature, of whom one is of my own lineage, and the other is the issue of an associate, doth it hold import that I seek his counsel ere I proceed with my inquiry, or may I be granted leave to make it forthwith?”

“Yea, I shall allow it, thou sayest thou hath left the prince in Tubbo’s care, is he capable?”

“You assigned Tubbo as Pac’s servant did you not?”

“I did,”

“Pray thee, what ails the knave? He is fully able,”

“I did hear him and Pac making merry cheer, becoming friends, servants and nobles aren’t to mix.”

“Wherefore doth this matter trouble thee? Thou art in amity with Etoiles and Bad, who lack noble blood,”

“They are of knighthood, not servants,”

“May I speak freely?”

“Yes,”

“Viceroy, my liege, it is my humble opinion that ye should countenance the amity betwixt Prince Pac and Tubbo. I opine this would be a boon to Pac, who would otherwise be fated to a life of solitude. A companion, even of lower station, is of great consequence, and such a bond may aid Prince Pac in becoming acclimated to the royal keep,”

“'Tis a cogent observation thou dost make,”

“And it may compel him to dine… mayhap, glucose confections can only accomplish so much, a more contented King consort will appear more debonair for the realm, even if he performs becomingly, many shall penetrate the deceit, particularly witches, there be many enchantments for that, if he seems joyous then none shall be cast,”

“I have faith in thy charge to sustain him in perpetuity, nevertheless, should thy care lack, then the phantom of war will stalk upon us. Thou art a worthy keeper, with both talent and magic,”

“Your Grace, I offer my gratitude, and inquire whether it is your sovereign will to grant him audience at this hour?”

“Yet have I business to attend to, if Ramon may so choose, he and Tubbo, Philza, Bad and Etoiles, yet allow no other visitors,”

“As you wish,”

The next day Fit was informed that Pac was still in the infirmary, Niki had held him there as she needed to maintain his fluids, and energy. Fit needed to have a discussion with the man, he’d sent a letter to Cellbit inquiring about a trading route, for fruits for Pac, although he didn’t mention the fruits he did inform Cellbit about Pac’s current situation, he thought the King deserved to know. 

Fit walked into the infirmary, being led by Philza, who was discussing business about the wedding, asking for Fit’s opinions, something that in a marriage if love would be a matter that both the grooms would discuss together. Fit was only half paying attention; he had a lot on his plate. 

Walking inside, he saw Pac and Tubbo discussing something, he wasn’t quite sure what, but he was intrigued, especially after having his talk with Niki the previous day, she had managed to convince him to allow Tubbo to be his friend, against his better judgement. 

“How are you feeling?” Tubbo asked, not realising that Fit and Philza had entered.

“Better,” Pac croaked, “But the King and his adviser have just entered, so I’ll see you later,”

“Yes your highness,” Tubbo bowed and left the room. 

“Pac,” Fit greeted.

“Verily, thy sovereign presence doth command mine obeisance, yet alas, my feeble frame doth hinder me from executing such an act of homage,”

“You fainted,” 

“I did,”

“Hark thee, milord! Wilt thou sup again, or must I raise a hue and cry for thine own good?”

“I will eat…”

“Good sir, once you have arisen from your sickbed, Philza has prepared a platter of delicacies for you to sample, that you may make known your preferences. Moreover, I have dispatched a missive to King Cellbit, apprising him of your present condition and inquiring as to the possibility of establishing a trade route, whereby we may procure the fruits that are so dear to you,”

“Fuck no…” Pac complained, “Have you sent the letter yet?”

“Yes, why?”

“Fuck… I didn’t want Cellbit to know,”

“Why?” Philza inquired.

“He in panic shall visit seek, ere joined be, you have doomed yourself to his unease,”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Philza asked, “Perhaps you require some company, to actually eat,”

“His sovereign realm must he oversee, leaving the domain governed by Bagi, save that she comes to visit as well, while Mike forsooth shall not neglect attendance on mine own person, leaving the realm in the governance of Felps, and all unguarded thereby,”

“Wherefore, they shall pay a visit and abide until the celebration of the marriage, and the realm shall be at peace, notwithstanding the excellency of Favela's influence, that no strife may arise,” Fit stated.

“Really?” Pac’s face lit up. 

“Yes,”

“Can I send a letter to Cellbit?” 

“Fine, but Philza will read over it before he sends it,”

“Okay,” Pac could not stop grinning.

Fit was sat at the dining table, waiting for Ramon to enter, and for Philza, and his kids, to as well. Apparently the wedding preparations needed his input, he wasn’t sure why Philza couldn’t handle it himself. He heard giggling, something that alerted him of Chayanne, Tallulah and Ramon, who wouldn’t be unaccompanied, so he assumed Philza would be there too. 

The door opened, creaking as it turned. Three giggling children walked inside, Chayanne and Ramon play-shoving each other, Tallulah laughing at their antics. Philza walked inside, holding a gigantic folder, full to the brim with pieces of paper. 

“Art thou prepared?” Philza asked, as he set the folder down.

“Should the Lord Pac not grace us with his presence on this most auspicious occasion? For this is his nuptial celebration as well,”

“Presently, he sojourns within the infirmary. Dost thou desire to conduct our affairs thither forthwith?” 

“Yet doth his state remain unstable, or is he able to stir?”

“He is able to bestir himself, but Niki did wish to maintain vigilance upon him,”

“Etoiles, will you go fetch him?”

“Yes my liege,” Etoiles stated, moving from his post against the wall. 

“We shall await his arrival, in the meantime thy notes thou shouldst organise,”

They waited for Etoiles to return with Pac, Philza organised his notes, laying them across the large dining table, covering it in its entirety. Chayanne, Tallulah and Ramon seated themselves, laughing and telling jokes, talking about their shared tutor, something Fit had seen a positive difference in since he made the decision to add the two children to Ramon’s education. 

Etoiles walking inside, Pac following he appeared to be wearing crutches, and had no leg, Fit immediately panicked, did Niki have to amputate his leg because he didn’t eat? King Cellbit was going to wage war, and whilst Fit did have confidence that his army would win, he didn’t want to lose any lives.

“Your leg-” Philza stated, “Did Niki amputate it?”

“No, are you dumb? I fainted, I wasn’t stabbed,”

“Then where is it?” Philza asked.

“For years have I been accustomed to the accompaniment of a prosthetic limb, similar to your Liege's. How then is it that such should be deemed peculiar?”

“Wherefore have we not beheld thine before, and an thou hast one, wherefore dost thou not adorn thyself therein?” Fit asked.

“I attire myself in garments of ample length, concealing my person from view, for I perceive no necessity to exhibit myself for public spectacle. Niki did remove it as it caused irritation to my skin, I have worn it for an extended period, you, as an amputee, should comprehend the sensation it arouses,”

“Shall we begin, my liege?” Philza asked.

“Yes,”

“Colour scheme,”

“Hark! I proffer thee this missive once more, bedecked in hues of crimson, aurum, argent, and azure,”

“Tallulah doth inquire as to the preference of blooms for the floral arrangements.”

“Forsooth, I am bereft of knowledge regarding a great many blooms.” Fit admitted.

“Would it be acceptable to have floral adornments indigenous to the Favela?” Pac asked.

“If they follow the colour scheme,”

“Pray tell, grant us some allamanda, their hue doth resemble gold, and white ipe, their whiteness akin to silver,”

“That works,” Tallulah smiled, “And for blue and red?”

“Roses, both red and blue ones,” Fit stated.

“For Prince Pac's bouquet, it shall be garnished with white ipe and azure roses. For King Fit's bouquet, it shall bear the adornments of allamanda and vermeil roses.” Tallulah smiled, “And for the arrangement of tables it be the same as the bouquets but it shall be dispersed throughout, diversely between the tables of each,”

“Thank you Tallulah,” Fit smiled.

“Catering,” Philza stated, “Chayanne has offered to assist in catering, but we need to discuss both the meal, cake, and drinks,”

“A cake of the whitest ivory,” Fit stated, “But within both sweet vanilla and chocolate?” 

“That seems nice,” Pac stated.

“And decorations for the cake?” Chayanne asked. 

“Intricate details, bepainted with edible pigment of golden hue and silvery sheen,” Fit stated.

“May we also add thereto the roses of both shades?” 

“Yes,”

“For the main meal, how many courses?” Philza asked.

“Three, starter, main and sugar morsel,”

“Then, by leave, that matter of victuals ye might broach with Bagi, who being ever meticulous in her duty, shall be most fain to see favoured the lore of the kitchens of Favela.” Pac stated. 

“Then we shall discuss that with her, are we free to move on?” Philza asked.

“What else is there for our opinions?” Fit asked.

“Dancing and sword fighting…” Philza winced.

“Faire Prince Pac, within my sovereign realm, the parties about to be joined in holy matrimony do engage in a choreographed sword fight, resembling a graceful dance, which activity we shall undertake forthwith, albeit with meticulous rehearsal,” Fit explained.

“Pray tell, who shall guide our studies? When may we commence this endeavor?”

“I will be your guide,” Etoiles spoke, “And the latter whenever it shall please the King so to do,”

“Upon Niki's determination that Lord Pac is fully recovered,” Fit spoke, 

“I am fully recovered,” Pac defended.

“Are you consuming anything that isn't a glucose solution?” Fit asked.

“No…”

“Then you aren’t,”

“I’m fine-”

“Pac,” Fit threatened,

“And furthermore, for dances-”

Pac had risen from his seat, stumbling slightly. Etoiles, who was holding his crutches, rushed over to him. 

“Wouldst thou be so gracious as to summon the nurse with all haste?” Pac asked, swiftly followed by his collapse.

“For fucks sake,” Fit cursed.

“I can fetch Niki-” Etoiles offered.

“Don’t bother, I’ll carry him to her, I highly doubt someone of her frame could lift him, however light he actually is,”

Fit walked over to Pac’s limp body, scooped his arms under his knees and torso, and lifted him into the air. Pac was concerningly light, but Fit supposed they already had an issue with food so it didn’t matter to much as the issue would be fixed soon. He carried Pac bridal style through the castle, followed by Etoiles, who was holding the crutches Pac had given him, and eventually reached the infirmary, where he lay Pac down on his bed, where Tubbo was sat waiting. 

“Tubbo, prepare an IV,” Niki screamed. 

Fit had no clue what those words meant, but they were either modern medicine or witchcraft and he didn’t really care as long as the prince was okay. 

Fit didn’t sleep that night, instead he was working with Philza, determining the guests to the wedding, of course the entire Kingdom would want to see, so they’d need a reporter, and foreign Kings and Queens would have to be in attendance, as well as their royal entourage. At some point, a long while ago, Philza had gone to sleep himself, so that left Fit alone in his study, with Etoiles guarding him.

He also knew that he’d have to host multiple kingdoms in his castle, and neighbouring castles, fortunately 2b2t had many, although they were all new, wars had destroyed them. The current plan was that the Kingdom of Favela would stay in Fit’s castle, then the Kingdom of Fools, would stay in the castle of Madagio, then the Kingdom of Purgatory would stay in the castle of Soulfire, which was also a region of Purgatory, the castle had been a gift from them to symbolise alliance, the Kingdom of the Federation would stay at the castle of Ranks, and all other monarchs of smaller countries would have to find their own accommodation. 

There would be multiple gossip articles written, so he would have to have nobles and journalists stay in a nearby castle, that was something Philza could work out though, he wasn’t too bothered. 

“My liege, thou hast been vigilant for an unconscionable time. Shalt thou retire to thy slumber?” Etoiles asked.

“Nay, I must perforce continue my labors, but I decree that thou hie thyself to thy repose, and leave me be,”

“My Lord, are you in need of an additional sentinel upon the watch post?”

“Doth Baghera slumber?”

“No, she is on night watch,”

“Then inform her to attend this room,”

“As thy Grace desireth, aught else ere I retire to slumber?”

“Nay, that be all, thou art dismissed,”

Etoiles walked out of the room, and shortly after Baghera walked inside, almost silently, she was like an assassin, and Fit was sure if he asked her to be one, she would, and she would be damn good at it. He continued to work, deciding things for the wedding, as well as for some royal decrees that would change upon his marriage, and some things that technically concerned Pac, but they all saw how that went, the man collapsed, for a second time, and Fit had to carry him, but that would be good fofoca, the castle staff loved to gossip, and not many knew the marriage was fake, Baghera for example didn’t. Fit felt his eyes start to droop; he’d been awake for about thirty hours at that point. He really should go to sleep but the work needed to be done. Philza would be awake soon to take over, hopefully. 

“My liege?” Baghera asked.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course I am, why do you ask?”

“Thou swayest from side to side, art thou overexerting thyself?”

“No,”

“Most worthy King Fit, with the utmost regard and deference, I beseech thee to retire to thy bedchamber for repose,”

“Baghera, you remain vigilant throughout the night,”

“I slept during the day, as an appropriate respite, not having knowledge of thine solitude during that period. This Kingdom requireth a monarch with ample fortitude, lest it face imminent peril due to exhaustion. We have already endured the swooning of our prince, who, though destined to become a King's mate, should not beget competition in this matter,” Baghera defended.

“Marry, thou hast spoken sooth, i' sooth, I shall hence to my couch, but prithee watch over Ramon's chamber,”

“I was deputized to watch over thee, those were Etoiles’ words; has not Prince Ramon an armed guard set over him?”

“Verily, his intent doth not lie therein, wherefore my concerns do persist. I shall be of good stead, for I am a swordsman of great skill. Should any untoward incident arise, though I deem it most unlikely,”

“Understood,”

Chapter Text

Pac had left the infirmary about a week ago, he’d been healing, and he had a scheduled talk with a dietitian, someone King Fit had hired, but he was excited for today. His family were coming to visit, they had a few weeks before the wedding, but they were coming to see him, he knew he’d get a scolding from both Cellbit and Mike, and he knew that Bagi would be incredibly concerned for him, and apparently Felps was coming too, which meant Cellbit had left Roier in charge of Favela, a somewhat risky move but Cellbit was very in love with the man, he was lucky in that regard. 

Today was also his first day that he would be allowed out of his chambers, he had be ordered to bed rest by Niki, and was finally glad that it was over, he hadn’t eaten anything but the purple potions, that contained glucose, apparently, and he would have to today, which was something he wasn’t looking forward to. 

Tubbo had informed him that King Fit had changed his decision on their friendship status, they were permitted to be friends, so long as Tubbo still served Pac as he was meant to and neither of them had any arguments, Tubbo didn’t expect to be paid to be friends with the prince, and Pac still ‘needed’ someone. 

Tubbo had gone to fetch Pac’s clothes from the servant washing station, he had to wear something formal, as a foreign Kingdom was visiting, not that Favela would mind, he was one of them after all. Bad was stationed outside his chamber, as per usual, but he wouldn’t be guarding Pac once the royals of Favela arrived, he would be guarding Ramon, alongside other guards. 

“Prince Pac?” Tubbo asked walking back inside, “I have your clothes, we should make great haste, your family are nearly here,”

“Really?” Pac smiled.

“Yes,”

“Okay, I will take a shower, and then I’ll change then I’ll be ready,”

Pac got ready, Tubbo waited in his room for him, having been informed of exactly what Pac had to do. Pac walked out of his en suite, having dressed and showered, and looking presentable, or at least vaguely for someone who nearly died, he thought everyone was being dramatic but apparently he nearly died. 

“Okay, please don’t hate me,” Tubbo said.

“Que?”

“King Fit told me some rules you have to follow, and I have to tell you, cause I’m your servant and they aren’t nice…”

“Just tell me,”

“You aren’t allowed to interact with the royals of Favela until inside the castle, you have to stand there and smile whilst they ride up to the castle,”

“What?” 

“You aren’t allowed in their chambers, not even if they invite you, you can invite them here but not the other way around,”

“Okay…”

“And you are to be having breakfast with Prince Ramon and King Fit, not your family,”

“Okay… that’s not horrible… I suppose, but I can’t interact with them outside?”

“Yes, now we have to get going,”

Pac stood by King Fit’s side, they were waiting in the courtyard for his family to arrive, all the servants were also outside, waiting for the foreign Kingdom’s arrival, hence why he had to look like he loved King Fit. He had his arms wrapped around Fit’s flesh arm and was slightly leaning into him, something Philza had advised he did, and Fit agreed. Ramon stood to Fit’s other side; Fit’s metal hand rested on his shoulder. 

Five horses rode up towards the castle, Pac recognised each person, one by one, Felps, then Richas, then Cellbit, then Mike, then Bagi in the back. He immediately wanted to rush over to them and be squashed in a hug, but he couldn’t. He had to stay professional. Cellbit swung his legs over the horse and jumped down, holding the reins, Mike, Bagi and Felps followed suit, Felps took hold of the reins of Richas’ horse, and his own, whilst everyone was led to the stables. All castle staff returned to their work, and Pac waited inside the lounge for his family. 

Philza led them all inside, and upon seeing Pac, Richas ran up to hug, crashing into his body, but luckily Pac was faster and swung the boy into his arms. 

“Meu filho, eu senti sua falta,” (My son, I’ve missed you,)

“Pac,” Richas smiled, “É aqui que você mora? É enorme,” (Is this where you live? It’s huge,)

“Sim, sim, estou feliz que você esteja aqui,” (Yes, yes, I’m glad you're here)

“Pac, who is that?” King Fit asked.

“Ah, this is Felps’ son, my nephew,”

“Oh… why is he here?”

“Well, Felps couldn’t leave him alone, could he?”

“Verily, Tubbo, prithee wouldst thou beseech Pierre to prepare a chamber for the youth?"

“Yes, your highness,” Tubbo said before running out of the room.

“Pacey?” Mike said. 

Pac placed Richas on the ground and immediately ran over to his brother, Mike surrounding him completely in a warm hug, something he hadn’t realised he had missed so much until that very moment. Bagi also joined in the hug, and Pac turned to squeeze her back, he missed them all so very much. 

“Cellbit?” Pac asked, holding his arms out wide.

Cellbit walked over to Pac and held the man, under his chin, Pac smiling, looking up at his King, and his brother. Nobody was crying which was a good sign, unfortunately Pac wouldn’t be allowed to hug Felps, not when Baghera, Pol, Willy and Lenay were in the room, all of which were Fit’s servants who didn’t know the marriage was fake. 

“Temos muito o que conversar,” Cellbit said sternly. (We have a lot to talk about)

“Você disse a eles?” Pac whispered, hoping neither Bagi, Mike, Richas nor Felps heard, (Did you tell them?)

“Não, mas eles descobrirão eventualmente,” (No, but they'll find out eventually,)

“Obrigado,” 

“Pac-” Fit chastised. 

“Sorry your highness, I forgot,” he apologised.

“Que?” Mike asked.

“I can’t speak Portuguese here, or at least not around people who don’t speak it, it isn’t fair, and it may seem like I’m plotting King Fit’s death,”

“But you aren’t?” Bagi said, “You wouldn’t,”

“Not everyone here holds the same opinion of me,”

“King Fit,” Cellbit addressed, “Pray thee, summon a humble servant to guide Bagi, Mike, Felps and Richarlyson to their respective chambers, I pray a private audience with Pac,”

“Of course, Philza, guide them,”

“Yes my liege,”

“Pray, do you wish for me to take my leave as well?” King Fit asked.

“I freely grant thee leave to speak, yet I desire to hear thy point of view, for I suspect this knave Pac of attempting to deceive me, seeking thereby to escape his just punishment,”

“Punishment?” Pac asked.

“Verily, fair knave, mine ire shall be kindled against thee should the missive from the sovereign liege, King Fit, prove to harbour naught but truth, As it was an act of folly that did cause great distress to come upon me,”

“Do you wish for my view first?” Fit asked. 

“Yes,”

“I did observe that the most noble Pac had not taken sustenance, and his humble servant had departed his chamber carrying platters laden with victuals, when he dined with myself and my heir, he did not partake of a lone grape, whence I did engage him in parley, he did swoon incontinently.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes…” Pac admitted.

“Why?”

“I don’t know…”

“Pac,” Cellbit said sternly. 

“It doth feel amiss, as doth all things here, that I am without Mike, for I have not lived without him since his birth, the viands be less fresshe, or at the leaste the fruytes be, and the cooked meals that ben dressed ben outlandish and foreign, the hues of the natural realm are mutated, all sensation is marred, and I fear causing umbrage to the liegemen of 2b2t,”

“That doesn’t mean you stop eating,” Cellbit said, face laced with worry.

“I’m sorry…”

“Pac, I love you so much, I don’t want my brother dead, please eat, and King Fit and I will try to resolve your food issues,”

“Thank you… please don’t tell Mike,”

“Why? What would Mike do?” Fit asked.

“Kill me, then you, then drag me up from the underworld and kill me again for good measure, before killing himself,”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Cellbit laughed, “He wouldn’t kill you; he’d replace you with me, and King Fit and I would be dead, you’d be alive, but yelled at,”

“Verily, since thou didst give thy sanction to the nuptial bond, how stands the bond between thee and him?”

“'Tis a sad plight, that scant favor he bears toward me; and though Bagi and Richas extend their gracious aid, the road ahead remains fraught with tribulation,”

“He shall come about in due time, I shall speak with him,” Pac decided.

“Until we have devised a course of action regarding thy concerns, young squire,”

“Cellbit, I am thy elder, and moreover I am of good health, I am alive, I walk and speak,”

“By the Grace of Almighty God, be it proclaimed: your reprieve from the perils of youth amidst scarcity doth not ordain your eternal survival, for the sustenance you now lack not is a mere trifle, a matter not of scarcity but of stubbornness, which I shall in no wise tolerate,”

“I’m sorry…”

“'Tis well, I shall retire to my solar to don my dining attire, I trust I shall meet thee there, and you shall be eating,”

“Yes my liege,”

My dearest journal,

The advent of Cellbit upon the Kingdom of 2b2t hath kindled within mine bosom both jubilation and apprehension. Apprehension, lest he confront me with reproach for mine unseemly habits, a confrontation that hath already transpired and shall doubtless persist. I do tremble at the prospect of strife instigated by Mike among any assembly, for it hath been made known to me that his amity with Cellbit standeth upon a precarious footing.

My wedding is approaching, and the day draws near swiftly. Bagi is aiding in the arrangements, and I must approach Fit with a proposal of betrothal, in the presence of Richarylson. My son believes our bond to be true and unshakeable, and there is no requirement for deceptive evidence to support his conviction.

I beseech thee to summon Mike to my presence, for we must converse alone as brothers. I desire that he make the acquaintance of Tubbo, that he may perceive I am not afflicted by loneliness. Furthermore, I believe Tubbo merits greater recognition, for he doth my bidding and is my companion, qualities that are oft in conflict.

Pray inform that the Lady Tina shall arrive upon the morrow for the analysis of colour pertaining to Ramon. Her presence shall grace this court until the wedding event, of which I profess ignorance. I desire to rectify this deficiency and shall consult with Bagi forthwith. 'Tis my wedding, and I, as a prince, deem it my right to be privy to its arrangements.

Dearest Pac.

Dinner time arrived, Pac sat opposite Ramon, to his left side was Mike and to his right, at the head of the table, was King Fit. Cellbit sat beside Ramon, and Bagi on his right. Many platters of food arrived at the table, and he could tell that both Cellbit and Fit were staring him down. He placed some meat and vegetables on his plate, not recognising what they were, well he knew the vegetables but not the meat. He felt their gazes soften as they returned to the conversation discussing many affairs, such as a trade route, although neither Bagi, Mike, Richas, Felps nor Ramon knew the true reason. 

“A trade route would be most beneficial,” Bagi smiled, “Cravest Thou that I transcribe it as official missive, King Cellbit?”

“Yea, but 'tis not of moment, as the espousals come aforehand,”

“Prince Pac?” Richas asked, holding his character of being a knight’s son, “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating a King?”

“Because Richarylson, only King Fit, myself and King Cellbit knew of its occurrence,”

“Is that why Prince Mike is so upset?” he asked, “Because you didn’t tell him?”

“Sim,” Mike spat, “That is exactly why,”

“Why isn’t King Fit wearing a ring?” Richas continued.

“Because he proposed to me… and I haven’t gotten the chance to return the favour yet,”

“Are you going to?” Ramon asked.

“Maybe…” Pac smirked. 

“Do you need my ring size then?” King Fit asked, as a joke.

“Already have it,”

“What?” 

“And that is all I am going to say,”

“Pac, I am of the humble belief that we should engage in a private discourse.” Mike stated.

“I agree, will you accompany me to my quarters after dinner?”

“Yes, 

Dinner finished, and everyone returned to their own private chambers, except for Pac and Mike who together went to Pac’s chambers. Tubbo was inside, tidying a bit, something that had surprised Pac, he wasn’t expecting Tubbo to be in his chambers, he had expected the boy to be with his daughter at this time of night. 

Mike walked inside, seating himself on Pac’s bed. They were either going to have a screaming match, or would be crying in each other’s arms, or both, there were many ways this conversation could go, and Pac didn’t like most of them. 

“Pray tell, ere I take my leave, is there aught thou mayst have need of, Prince Pac?” Tubbo asked.

“Nay, but Tubbo, this be my brother, thou needst not employ my title in his presence.”

“Farewell, Pac, until our paths cross anew upon the morrow,”

“Você está seguro? Você está alimentado? Você é maltratado? Você quer fugir?” Mike asked. (Are you safe? Are you fed? Are you mistreated? Do you want to escape?)

“Mikey, por favor, relaxe, estou seguro, estou alimentado, não sou maltratado e não quero escapar, mas também não quero me casar e estou preocupado com isso, mas agora senti sua falta e só quero sua companhia,” (Mikey please relax, I am safe, I am fed, I am not mistreated and I do not want to escape, but I also do not want to get married and I am worried about it, but now I have missed you and I just want your company,)

“Oh Pacey, o que aconteceu? Algo claramente não está certo, há algo que você não está me dizendo” (Oh Pacey, what happened? Something's clearly not right, there's something you're not telling me)

“Eu senti sua falta... e tudo aqui parece errado, e eu sinto que estou invadindo ou como se não devesse estar aqui,” (I missed you... And everything here feels wrong, and I feel like I'm trespassing or like I shouldn't be here,)

“Oh Moço, eu sei, eu sei, eu também senti sua falta, o que parece errado? Além de toda essa situação ser uma bagunça,” (Oh Moço, I know, I know, I missed you too, what seems wrong? Besides this whole situation being a mess,)

“Príncipe Ramon... ele quer um pai, e ele quer que eu seja seu pai, ele mencionou isso, e ele é tão parecido com Richas, que eu- eu não posso deixar de fazer a comparação e dói,” (Prince Ramon... he wants a father, and he wants me to be his father, he mentioned that, and he's so much like Richas, that I--I can't help but make the comparison and it hurts,)

“Pac... Isso é realmente uma coisa ruim?” (Pac... Is this really a bad thing?)

“Sim, porque não quero substituir Richas... e- e eu não quero fazer algo que eu vou me arrepender, e além disso eu nem acho que King Fit quer que eu interaja com seu filho,” (Yes, because I don't want to replace Richas... and- and I don't want to do something that I'm going to regret, and besides, I don't even think King Fit wants me to interact with their son)

“Além do seu último ponto, parece que você está apenas dando desculpas, Pac, por mais que eu odeie essa situação e faria qualquer coisa para tirá-lo dela - eu não posso e acho que você e eu precisamos nos concentrar em torná-lo uma experiência mais agradável para você,” (Aside from your last point, it seems like you're just making excuses, Pac, as much as I hate this situation and would do anything to get you out of it – I can't and I think you and I need to focus on making it a more enjoyable experience for you,)

“Agradável? Como posso achar agradável quando minha chance de amar foi arrancada de mim?” (Pleasant? How can I find it pleasant when my chance to love has been taken away from me?)

“Eu não sei... mas vamos descobrir, TazerCraft juntos, certo?” (I do not know... but let's find out, TazerCraft together, shall we?)

“Sim… mas Mikey, há algo que eu preciso falar com você” (Yes… but Mikey, there's something I need to talk to you about)

“Que?”

“Você e a Cellbit-” (You and Cellbit-)

“Não, não, ele é um idiota e ele te entregou, ele não é confiável,” (No, no, he's an idiot and he gave you away, he's not trustworthy,)

“Mikey, por favor, me escute, ele não ia me deixar casar, eu implorei a ele, é meu dever como príncipe,” (Mikey, please listen to me, he wasn't going to let me marry, I begged him, it's my duty as a prince,)

“Por que é seu dever? Por que não o da Cellbit? Por que não o meu? Por que não o Bagi's? Por que é seu dever?” (Why is it your duty? Why not Cellbit's? Why not mine? Why not Bagi's? Why is it your duty?)

“Porque eu sou o mais velho e mais próximo em idade do Rei,” (Because I am the oldest and closest in age to the King,)

“Mas-”

“Mike Craft, ouça-me, você precisa parar de ser rude com seu Rei, isso afeta não só você, mas Cellbit, Bagi, Felps e até Richas também, ok, então pare,” (Mike Craft, listen to me, you need to stop being rude to your King, it affects not only you, but Cellbit, Bagi, Felps and even Richas too, okay, so stop,)

“Você nunca usa nossos sobrenomes ... você os odeia... por que?” (You never use our last names... you hate them... why?)

“Eu- eu- eu não sei, mas isso fez você ouvir, não foi?” (I--I--I don't know, but that made you listen, didn't it?)

“Pac, eu não sei como tirá-lo dessa situação, a menos que você queira fugir... que você rejeitou, várias vezes, não que eu entenda o porquê,” (Pac, I don't know how to get you out of this situation unless you want to run away... which you rejected, several times, not that I understand why,)

“Eu não posso, mesmo que fôssemos fugir, Cellbit não poderia, Bagi não faria, não sem Cellbit e Richas seriam divididos... ele pode lidar com a perda de um pai, não de todos os seus pais, não posso deixar Cellbit no trono enfrentando a guerra,” (I can't, even if we were to run away, Cellbit couldn't, Bagi wouldn't do it, not without Cellbit and Richas would be divided... he can deal with the loss of a father, not all of his parents, I can't leave Cellbit on the throne facing war,)

“Você é como nossa mãe, muito gentil, ela adotou dois criminosos porque se sentiu mal por nós, você é como ela, muito gentil para o seu próprio bem, você se sacrifica pelos outros, eu não acho que você deveria, não mais,” (You're like our mother, very kind, she adopted two criminals because she felt bad for us, you're just like her, too kind for your own good, you sacrifice yourself for others, I don't think you should, no more,)

“Eu sinto falta dela...” Pac whispered. (I miss her…)

“Eu também,” (I do too)

Pac woke up the next day, to Tubbo knocking on his door. He answered the door, still not used to the early waking time of 2b2t, compared to Favela. Tubbo walked inside, holding a plate of food in one hand and clothes in the other. 

Pac sat at his desk, waiting for Tubbo to give him a run-down of his day. Tubbo probably had orders from the King, and unfortunately his King wasn’t Cellbit. If Pac had to opportunity to return to Favela, and not marry the King of 2b2t, he would ask Tubbo if he’d like to accompany him, he thinks Tubbo would like Favela, and maybe his daughter would too.

“Pray tell, what is my itinerary for this day?”

“Break fast with King Fit and Prince Ramon, an event tardiness upon could result in thy late arrival. Thereafter, thou shalt possess several hours of leisure, which I surmise thou wilt spend with thy familial unit. Luncheon shall follow, once more in the companionship of thy family, whereupon thou art summoned to discourse with Philza regarding thy proposal. A further period of leisure shall ensue, preceding both dinner and thy eventual repose.”

“Verily, is there aught else I should be made privy to?”

“On the morrow, preparations for the royal union shall commence. Thou, Princess Bagi, King Fit, and Philza, I shall lend my presence, lest thou or Princess Bagi require succor. Both Etoiles and Bad shall grace the occasion with their attendance as well.”

“My gracious lord, wherefore doth a corset find itself within the embrace of thine arms? Should I not partake in the morning repast with the sovereign, what need hast thou of a platter laden with sustenance?”

“The corset is for Niki, she asked me to wash it for her, but I need to tell you that you may be required to wear corsets yourself soon, after and during your wedding, and the plate of food is for you, it’s only small, and it is by order of the King that I bring it,”

“Well then, prithee wilt thou make return once thy duty of delivering the corset is complete?”

“Yes,”

“I do beseech you to accompany Bagi and I to the library during the hours of my liberty following the morning repast, as I do not believe I have traversed its hallowed halls.”

“As you command, my liege. Is there aught else thou wouldst have?”

“Richas, he’s bound to get in trouble, or messy, could you keep an eye on him while I am incapable of doing so,”

“Forsooth, certes, yet do I opine that he sojourneth in the fellowship of Philza, Etoiles, Ramon, Tallulah, and Chayanne, insomuch as tender saplings are wont to cling together within these hallowed halls.”

“'Tis of import, then let be, I shall prepare for the morning repast, and we shall convene anon,”

Tubbo left the room, and Pac began to get ready. Changing into a blue sort of suit, he wasn’t quite sure where it was from, it certainly was not his from Favela, but it was what Tubbo had brought him to wear, so either it was an order from the King or it was planned so… he would wear it. 

Tubbo returned shortly, and aided Pac in whatever asked of him. Pac did feel slightly bad, but he knew Bad was outside overhearing what was being said, so he did need to make sure Tubbo was still helping him, and aiding him, he didn’t want the boy to lose his job without good reason to. Tubbo led Pac to the dining room, where King Fit and Prince Ramon waited.

Chapter Text

Fit was nervous, and very clearly so. His wedding was in around two weeks, he’d been hosting the Favela Kingdom for two days, and all was fine, he was just incredibly nervous. He had a suit fitting, then he and Pac would visit the venue and speak with Tallulah about decorations, and then Ramon had his colour analysis, from a woman called Tina, who had arrived a few days prior, and he had training with Pac, for their first fight. 

Fit walked through the halls of his home, it was around three in the morning, not many people were awake, himself, Baghera, and Philza being the only people around. He had breakfast with Ramon and Pac yesterday, and would again today, in a few hours. His suit fitting however was in about an hour, and apparently both Bagi and Tina were waking at an hour, ungodly to them, but perfectly normal to Fit, to help, and Ramon would be getting his colour analysis, once Pac woke up too. 

Fit was in the dressing room, Bagi, after having woken up, Philza and Baghera accompanied him. Etoiles would join them shortly to relieve Baghera of her duty so she could rest. 

His stylist, had given him a Maroon suit to try on, it fit well, and was comfortable but he wasn’t sure on the colour, so they tried the same suit in multiple colours, such as carmine, burgundy, crimson, ruby, vermilion, cardinal and persian red. He had to wear red and gold, it was part of the theme of the wedding. He liked all of the suits but he wasn’t quite sure which was best, and none of the other people assisting him helped, he could tell Bagi had words on her tongue that she did not speak, probably too afraid too. 

Pac walked in, Ramon holding his hand skipping along, Bad walking in after them, alongside Tina, apparently Ramon’s colour analysis had been brought forward, and Bagi had asked Pac to bring his wedding suit so she could style it, and fit it, whatever that meant. 

Ramon immediately ran over to him and wrapped his tiny arms around Fit. Fit immediately swooped down to pick up his son. 

“Is that the raiment thou dost intend to don for the sacred union of matrimony?” Ramon asked.

“Forsooth, I stand in indecision, unable to discern the most appropriate hue. The esteemed Philza offers naught but silence, and the myriad of colors present a bewildering array. Though their radiance is pleasing to behold, I remain uncertain as to which may best serve my purpose,”

“Pac?” Ramon asked.

“Sim- yes,”

“Do you have your suit?”

“Yes,”

“Wherefore doth thou not don it?”

“Que? Why would I do that?”

“Well did Princess Bagi say she would style it right?”

“Yes but not until later,”

“Wherefore We shall be capable of offering counsel to my lord, my father, in his endeavor to secure that vestment which best compares to Your suit.”

“It is a sound counsel,” Fit said.

“Pac, vá se trocar, há um banheiro lá,” Bagi said. (Pac, go change, there's a bathroom there)

Fit watched as Pac left for the bathroom, or as they were using it, a changing room. Tina began to work with Ramon, holding up various colours to his face, eyes, hair and attempting to see which colours would work best. Fit remembered having a colour check whilst in the revolution of 2b2t, before he was King, it was something that all the soldiers decided to do as a joke, and one woman knew how to do it. He got gold and red, hence why he typically wore those colours, but he never told anyone why. 

When Pac returned, Fit was stunned. Pac’s suit consisted of cerulean trousers of a dark hue, closer to a royal blue, with silver lining that glistened in the light, and a silver button. His shirt was a silvery white, but not particularly detailed, something that confused Fit, as Favela were known for their extravagant wedding outfits. He had a blazer in his arms, it matched the tone of Pac’s trousers and also had silver lining, but it also had embroidery bearing many symbols of Favela, four stars, on his sleeve, which was a detail present in the flag of Favela, a crescent on the right pocket, and a sun on the other. He also held something in his hands which he handed to Bagi.

Fit watched as Pac handed his blazer to Baghera, and the other item to Bagi. He turned around, and Bagi opened the object up, it was a corset. Fit was not expecting a prince to wear a corset, in fact it was unheard of in 2b2t history. Pac lifted his arms and Bagi wrapped the corset around him, he grabbed the front and hooked it in place. Bagi began to tie the silver lace behind Pac, but violently pulling, Fit could hear Pac gasp as the air rushed out of his lungs. The corset was delicate, it had noticeable boning, and Fit hoped that it wasn’t crushing Pac’s lungs, it had silver accents, the metal must have been intricately carved into the delicate shapes, the corset was slightly darker than Pac’s trousers and blazer, which he had now received from Baghera and put on over his corset. The corset had embroidered stars, more so than the blazer, and it appeared to be made of diamond and silver, something worthy of a royal wedding.  Fit suddenly understood why Favela had such extravagant wedding garments, it was because it made the person look simply stunning. 

“Prince Pac, you look so cool!” Ramon squealed. 

“Thank you,” he smiled.

“Now it’s your turn,” Bagi smirked, “Oh wait, I think I saw a red that will look amazing with Pac’s outfit, hold on,” 

Bagi ran to the wardrobe, she found a sort of burgundy coloured suit, almost a dull red wine colour. She pulled out a cape, trousers, a waistcoat, and a white shirt. Fit went to the bathroom and began to change into the outfit. He pulled up the burgundy trousers, they were plain and a nice fabric, not too itchy, like some of his official garments, with a black belt to sit over it. Next he put on his shirt, which had a slight ruffle, he tucked it into his trousers, and put on the waistcoat, which was where the detail began. There were golden buttons, and golden flower embroidery, which was clearly the work of a brilliant craftsman, and once he was in the waistcoat he put on the cape, which was plan as well, except for the edges, which were black like his belt but with golden flower embroidery on like his waistcoat, it also had shoulder pads, but they were plain black with a gold border. He also wore high black boots, something Bagi had grabbed for him. He walked out of the bathroom. 

Bagi immediately grabbed his arm, and Etoiles drew his sword. Fit raised his hand, dismissing the action. He knew she meant no harm; he also knew that Etoiles was doing what he was trained to do so he wasn’t at fault either. Bagi ignored the action, as if it had happened to her before, something Fit should investigate but realistically wouldn’t have the time to do so.

“The colours look so nice next to each other!” Bagi squealed.

“Obrigado pela ajuda Bagi, eu te devo,” Pac smiled. (Thanks for the help Bagi, I owe you,)

“Não, seu meu irmão, você não me deve nada, eu faria isso pelo Cellbit de graça, eu faria isso por você de graça,” (No, you're my brother, you don't owe me nothing, I'd do it for Cellbit for free, I'd do it for you for free,)

“Pac-” Philza stated.

“Sorry…” he seemed sad, Fit wondered why.

“Gracious lady Tina, may I inquire of you?” Fit asked, “Pray, are you ready to proceed with Prince Ramon's chromatomancy test forthwith?”

“Yes, of course, Bagi, love, do you have my supplies?” Tina asked.

“Yes darling, they are in my bags, over there,” Bagi smiled. 

Ramon’s colour analysis was a short and simple process. Tina held up different colours to his hair, eyes and skin, then different shades, they different metallic jewellery. He, surprisingly, had a mix of Fit and Pac’s colours. He had blue and gold, which seemed like a perfect fit for the boy. 

Fit walked behind Philza, beside Pac, and in front of Etoiles, they were touring the church that the wedding would take place in, realistically it was more like a cathedral, it was huge, and had many places to sit, for the public to watch. Fit had seen just how busy his Kingdom had become in the preparation for the wedding, many hotels, hostels and inns were full, and all his castles were fully booked out for other royal families. 

Pac looked awe struck, with a sort of confused look on his face, something that caused Fit an awful amount of curiosity. 

“Pray tell, wherefore doth thine countenance bear such a perplexed aspect?” he asked.

“Verily, thy countenance doth express amazement, yet surely hath thou beheld this realm erstwhile, in this hallowed chamber did thou wed thy former spouse, as I am given to understand. 'Twas here that sovereigns of yore exchanged vows, a hallowed tradition within the realm of 2b2t,”

“Albeit it is custom, I newly ascend to the throne and hold traditions of scant import, the royal army under my command had but recently vanquished the vile despot who formerly held dominion over this realm. Subsequently, I, the newly-crowned monarch, and my erstwhile consort, now widowed, were united in matrimony in a modest sanctuary,”

“Was thy marriage thus annulled ere he was sentenced to death?”

“Verily, believe I, Philza doth know more than I.  I was in attendance on Ramon,”

“How long have you been King?”

“Fourteen years have passed since I ascended the throne, being but a stripling of twenty years, and now find myself of the ripe age of thirty and four, and you? How old were you when you relinquished the throne?”

“Twenty… I had fought in the war of Alcatraz, and in its final battle, my father lost his life… I assumed the throne temporarily, before Cellbit ascended to it upon reaching the age of twenty,”

“Verily, thou hast wielded the sceptre, and was King for a period of two years and two sunsets?”

“King, yet not King, only Cellbit and I privy to my forthcoming abdication,”

“From the recesses of my recollection, I verily believe that Cellbit lacked cognizance of the motivations which prompted thy abdication of the sovereign throne. Wherefore, I beseech thee to enlighten me upon this matter,”

“No,”

“You would do well not to refuse your King,” Philza stated, holding different flowers which Tallulah had handed him.

“The abdication of my throne, was naught thou wert ever meant to know of, and is business of mine own, not thine. I have denied my king afore and I will deny my new king, regardless of the consequences,”

“NYFB, I understand…”

“Que? What?”

“None of your fucking business, I understand, there will be no consequences, I was merely curious,”

“Verily, one did anticipate the sovereign's intent to sever his head from his mortal form for such an act, your majesty.” Philza commented.

“I am a man of reason,” 

“So, your highness,” Philza began, “Hear ye, Her Grace, Tallulah, accompanied by Lord Missa, shall grace our presence with haste. They bear adornments of import, notably those pertaining to the esteemed Pac.”

“Will Bagi also be in attendance?” Pac asked.

“I believe not,” Philza answered.

“Is there a means by which she might be apprehended and conveyed hither?” Pac asked.

“I can inform Missa via my crows, why?”

“This nuptial union shall be a harmonious fusion of Favela and 2b2t customs. Should the Favela adornments be absent, the spectacle would suffer from asymmetry. While my understanding of Favela wedding traditions is limited, having never graced such an occasion with my presence, Princess Bagi possesses a wealth of knowledge in this matter,”

“Philza call your crows to bring Princess Bagi,” Fit ordered.

Tallulah, Missa and Bagi all arrived shortly after, Bagi immediately joined Pac’s side, whispering in Portuguese to him, he responded in English, mainly, but sometimes he would forget the rules, which Fit could admit were slightly cruel, and speak Portuguese. 

Bagi and Tallulah discussed decorations, coming to many different agreements, mumbling so that the rest of them couldn’t hear. Fit sat down after a while, Philza beside him, they were watching Pac and Missa talking. 

“A second wedding… are you excited?” Philza asked.

“This marriage is purely for the good of the kingdom, why would I be excited?”

“Fit, no other king in this kingdom has had two marriages-”

“And this kingdom has never had a king overthrown, not before the king before me, we are in a time of change,”

“Whilst that is true… why don’t you try to like Pac?”

“Love is not something necessary and won’t happen,”

“I said like, not love…”

“Philza…”

“Besides the point, at least try to be friends with him, as you are with me,”

“I don’t believe anyone will be able to get as close as you are to me,”

“Not anymore,”

“Yeah…”

“I hate that bastard Spreen, curse his name, for what he did to you,”

“He did nothing, Etoiles saved me,”

“He gave you trust issues,”

“I had them before him,”

“He validated them, and gave you fear to trust or befriend anyone, let alone love someone,”

“Even if I did love Pac, which I do not, for the record, he wouldn’t like me back, we stole him from his kingdom and forced him to marry me, nobody falls in love that way,”

“You’d be surprised…”

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“King Foolish and King Vegetta…”

“What? But they are so in love-”

“King Vegetta’s parents arranged the marriage, and they fell in love, but he didn’t do the same for his son, Prince Roier had free reign to love who he wanted to,”

“And he chose King Cellbit,”

“Which, after your wedding, might be an event you’ll have to attend alongside Pac,”

“I am to be very busy for a while,”

“You’ve been King for fourteen years, are you not aware that you will never have time to yourself again?”

“Being King doesn’t take away my freedom Philza, you as an old King should know yourself,”

“Why do you think I renounced the throne,”

“To spend time with your husband and children… but you did that as King too, you ended your reign to assist me and don’t deny it, we both know it’s the truth,”

“You are smart my King, but socially you are hopeless, I do hope that Pac aids you in that regard,”

Fit was currently dressed in a thin layer of chainmail, and rags, something he didn’t mind getting muddy. He, stood beside Etoiles, was waiting for Pac to arrive. They had their first fighting rehearsal? practice? lesson? today. He was excited, it was one of the 2b2t traditions that he wanted to do at his first wedding but his fiancé said no. He was excited this time, Pac couldn’t say no, and he hoped that if the man did have the choice, he wouldn’t anyway but that was beside the point. 

Pac walked out of the castle and round the corner to where Fit could see him. Etoiles waved to him with a smile and Pac walked over. He was wearing clothes similar to Fit, light and easy to move in. 

“Bienvenue dans la classe de combat,” (Welcome to the battle class.)

“Etoiles,” Fit warned, “Cease with such dramatic display,”

“I offer my most humble apologies, but before you proceed, I must inquire as to the extent of your martial prowess. To this end, I request that you engage in a mock duel, employing these wooden poles as stand-ins for the swords you shall wield in the actual combat. It is imperative that no harm be intended during this exchange. Let your movements be guided by the utmost discipline and restraint,”

Fit walked over to Etoiles and was handed the wooden pole, as did Pac. They turned to face each other with a sadistic grin, Fit loved to fight, being King meant he got less time to do so, he also couldn’t wait to put the spoilt prince on his arse. Pac smirked back; Fit couldn’t imagine why. 

“Are you prepared to accept defeat?” Fit taunted. 

“Fie on thee, old man,”
“Forsooth, I am but a mere youth compared to thine own self.”

“I pray thee, good sir, hast thou knowledge of mine years?”

“No, care to enlighten me?”

“I, being of the age of seven and twenty, and you, methinks, of the age of two and thirty, it follows that you are my senior by five years.”

“You’ve researched me?”

“You think I wouldn’t? I am to marry you, of course I would,”

“Enough,” Etoiles called, “Taunts are fine, but get to fighting,”

Pac and Fit circled each other, the poles drawn as swords in front of each other. Fit swung first, aiming for Pac’s side, Pac dodged, as if he were an expert, something Fit highly doubted. Fit struck again, this time for Pac’s other side, again he dodged. He twisted to the right whenever Fit struck left and vice versa when Fit struck right. He didn’t strike himself, something that Fit found incredibly odd. 

“PAC ACTUALLY ATTACK,” Etoiles yelled from the sidelines. 

Fit struck towards Pac’s leg, Pac didn’t dodge, but he didn’t flinch, Fit felt like an idiot, he had just hit Pac’s prosthetic. Pac grinned, and swung his own wooden pole towards Fit’s chest. Fit was glad he had a quick reaction time, because he was just able to hold up the pole to prevent Pac from winding him. The sound of wood knocking against wood could be heard, swing after swing, from either of them. They both dodged each other’s attacks, and seemed to be pretty evenly matched. 

“Okay… that’s enough, I still want you to spar but this time using the swords that you’ll use for the ceremony,”

They both collected the swords, silently. They returned to their positions, and once again Fit struck first. Pac dodged, but the sword managed to hit his prosthetic again, the sound of metal on metal rang out. Fit could see Etoiles’ face panic before going into the same moment of realisation that he had done only minutes prior. Pac swung, it collided with his arm, they both grinned, realising that they had made the exact same mistake. Their dance continued, swing, dodge, swing, dodge, swing, block. Etoiles seemed to be impressed, from what Fit could tell. Pac swung at Fit’s leg, Fit jumped out of the way in time but before he could gain his balance, Pac pushed him over. He fell onto his back, on the dirt. Pac held his sword to Fit’s neck, laughing. 

“I won,” Pac smiled.

“King Fit?” Etoiles asked, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah why?”
“No one had ever vanquished thee in sparring before, not even I,”

“Silence, knave! Fortune favoured him most whimsically,”

“Fortune doth smile upon thee, good sir? Thou deemest this accomplishment the fruit of mere luck? 'Tis a falsehood, I say! This is the reward of diligence and tireless practice,” Pac defended.

“Okay, so now I would like to choreograph it,” Etoiles smiled.

“Go ahead,” Fit permitted.

“I was greatly entertained by the initial circling of the combatants, blades held aloft. Wherefore, I propose that such a manoeuvre be repeated prior to any engagement,”

“Okay,”

“Thenceforth, I charge thee to assail first King Fit, striking toward the side of Pac; Pac, I desire thee to evade to the side while also readying thy blade, to oppose the advance of Fit,”

Fit and Pac acted the action, Fit striking, Pac sliding to his right, holding his sword against Fit’s, clanking of metal being the only sound around, scaring the nearby birds into flight. 

“Noble Pac, thou shalt gyrate, the burden of thy blade against King Fit's, in an attempt to repel his steel. King Fit, permit this motion, yet retain thy grip, allowing thy arm to yield. Then, Pac, thou shalt strike. Fit, thou shalt evade Pac's attack by moving to thy left.”

They continued to recreate Etoiles' words in reality. Their fight becoming like a dance. They continued practicing until the sun went down and they had memorised the routine, they would still have to practice it but that would only be once every few days until the wedding, which was nearing closer and closer. 

Fit was sitting on Ramon’s bed, his son telling him all about his day, with a smile. Ever since Ramon had yelled at him about not being in his life, he had made more of an effort to be involved. He felt guilty, but as King he was busy, constantly, he hoped Ramon would understand one day. 

“Dad?” Ramon questioned, “Are you even listening?”

“Of course I am, my boy,”

“Okay, so Tallulah and I were playing right, then Missa went and took her, to see you or something, I don’t know, so Empanada, and played together instead, and then Sun- Chayanne joined us,”

“You keep mentioning a sun, who is this sun? What is this sun?”

“Nobody, I promise,”

“Ramon you should know better than to lie to your father, and a King,”

“Nobody,”

“Really?”

“Yes, I promise,”

“Okay…”

“Anyway, so Chayanne joined us and with Niki’s supervision we learnt to bake brownies, it was so cool,”

“Normal brownies? No added potions?”

“Of course, she may be a witch but she isn’t evil,”

“You are right,”

“And my tutor told me that I don’t have to do schooling on the day of your wedding,”

“Of course, not Ramon, it’s going to be a whole day event,”

“Really?”

“I know you weren’t there for my first wedding, but it is genuinely a whole day event, starting before the sun rises and after it sets in most cases,”

“Really?”

“Yes, and I actually have something to ask you, before you go to sleep?”

“What?”

“Will you be the ring bearer?”

“What’s that?”

“In Favela tradition they exchange rings, there is normally a proposal with one and then in the actual ceremony there is a ring for each partner, the rings are brought to them by a ring bearer, it's kind of like a knife bearer which if you accept you will also be, Princess Bagi told me that you and Richas would be the best options, so would you?”

“Yes, I would love to dad,”

Chapter Text

It was the day before Pac’s wedding, his last day single, his last day as the prince of Favela, and his last day with the surname Lange. He’d be moving onto his fourth surname, from Tazer, TazerCraft, Lange and then from tomorrow, where he would be known as Pac EmCee King consort of 2b2t. He would never get the opportunity to love, to care for someone, not truly, and tomorrow would be one of the worst days of his life, having to kiss, hug, and basically cling to the King of 2b2t, in front of the entire world, that may be dramatic, but a lot of kingdoms were coming to visit for the wedding. 

He was currently sitting on his bed, Richas in his lap, Mike beside him, Bagi sat at the other end, Felps guarding him, opposed to Bad, and Cellbit was sitting at his desk. He had sent Tubbo out to look after his daughter, as he couldn’t find a babysitter and Pac felt pity for the boy. He knew he’d actually have to prepare for his wedding shortly, but he really didn’t want to, Mike didn’t want to either, nor did Bagi, nor Cellbit, nor Felps.

“Pai?” Richas asked.

“Sim?” Pac, Mike, Felps and Cellbit all answered.

“Pai Pac,” he elaborated.

“Sim?”

“Você ainda será o príncipe da Favela depois de casado?” (Will you still be the prince of Favela after you're married?)

“Não, eu serei o rei consorte de 2b2t,” (No, I will be the king consort of 2b2t.)

“Você não gosta mais de Favela?” (Do you not like Favela anymore?)

“Claro que eu gosto de Favela, por que você acha isso?” (Of course I like Favela, why do you think that?)

“Porque você está indo embora... e você está removendo seu título ... e pai Cellbit não será mais seu rei,” (Because you're leaving... and you're removing your title... and Pai Cellbit will no longer be your king,)

“Pac, você sabe que não precisa renunciar ao seu título de Príncipe da Favela,” Cellbit suddenly said. (Pac, you know you don't have to renounce your title of Prince of the Favela.) 

“Ele não?” Bagi exclaimed. (He doesn’t?)

“Sim, tecnicamente você poderia combinar seus títulos, se quisesse, Pac, Rei consorte de 2b2t e Príncipe da Favela,” (Yes, technically you could combine your titles if you wanted, Pac, King consort of 2b2t and Prince of the Favela)

“Eu vou fazer isso então, a favela é a minha casa, sempre será,” Pac decided. (I'm going to do it then, the favela is my home, it always will be.)

“Você não quer se casar, não é?” Richas asked. (You don't want to get married, do you?)

“Não…” Pac admitted.

“Por que você vai se casar então? Por que Pai Cellbit não pode simplesmente dizer não? Por que Pai Mike não pode protegê você ? Por que a Mãe Bagi não consegue encontrar um homem para você amar?” (Why are you getting married then? Why can't Pai Cellbit just say no? Why can't Pai Mike protect you? Why can't Mãe Bagi find a man for you to love?)

“Infelizmente não funciona assim Richas.” Pac frowned. (Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that Richas)

“Terei que me casar com alguém que não amo? Pai Cellbit, você ama Roier? Mãe Bagi, você ama a Tina?” (Will I have to marry someone I don't love? Pai Cellbit, do you love Roier? Mãe Bagi, do you love Tina?)

“Sim, eu amo Roier, e Bagi ama Tina... mas a ameaça de guerra estava presente, então Pac se ofereceu para desistir de sua chance de amor, com o qual todos estamos irritados, e não, você não terá que se casar com alguém que não ama,” Cellbit explained. (Yes, I love Roier, and Bagi loves Tina... but the threat of war was present, so Pac offered to give up his chance at love, which we're all annoyed about, and no, you won't have to marry someone you don't love.)

“King Fit descobrirá sobre minha existência como seu filho?” (Will King Fit find out about my existence as your son?)

Pac looked at Cellbit, he didn’t even know the answer, and he doubted anybody else in the room did either. Tina knew about Richas, Roier knew about Richas, but they were the actual romantic interests of his siblings, his case was different. They’d all be avoiding the topic of Pac’s marriage, and everything related to it. 

“Eu não sei...” Pac admitted. (I don’t know…)

“Não, ele não vai,” Mike spoke up, “Já estou perdendo um irmão, não estou arriscando perder meu filho também,” (No, he won’t, I'm already losing a brother, I'm not risking losing my son either)

“Você não está me perdendo.” Pac defended, but his words fell on deaf ears. (You aren’t losing me)

Pac was led by Bad, and Felps, to the meeting room, where he would have a discussion with both Philza and King Fit. He assumed Philza would be doing most of the talking and decision making, as the man often did, Fit trusted him completely, something Pac both admired and feared, trusting somebody so much as to trust their judgement over your own over something as personal as marriage was a big thing.

He sat down in his regular seat, Philza and Fit staring at him, neither saying a word. Pac realised he was slouching, he immediately fixed his posture and looked to Felps, who held a thumbs up. He would know the inner workings of the wedding tomorrow, but Bad was also there, and Bad didn’t know the marriage would be fake.

“Bad you are dismissed,” King Fit spoke.

“Should I escort Felps back to King Cellbit?” Bad asked.

“No, he shall remain,”

Bad left the room promptly, Felps stood slightly leaning against the wall but still at attention in case anything went wrong. 

“Tomorrow-” Philza began to speak.

“Save the speech,” Pac spat, “Tomorrow is the day of our union, as I am aware, I know I’ll have to be affectionate, hereon, I inquire, what knowledge remains yet to be imparted unto mine humble self? I beseech thee, grant me this humble request, that I might spend my final hours as a Lange in the company of my kin.”

“Be polite-” King Fit scolded, “Thou art to be a King consort, thou shalt have no place for churlishness,”

“The itinerary for tomorrow,” Philza sighed, “Afore the morn's embrace, let readiness commence. The servants' toils attend to their own charge; yet thou, fair sir, must bestir thyself ere the sun doth peek. Don thine raiment, tend to thy coiffure, and bestow upon thy visage the artistry that befits thy station.”

“Felps make note to inform Cellbit, Bagi and Mike please, they’ll help me prepare,” Pac said, turning his head to face Felps.

“Yes my prince,” 

“Your title will change from the prince of Favela to the King consort of 2b2t-” Philza continued.

“Lo, I did ponder the union of these realms, for in truth, it is not without precedent. The laws of both 2b2t and Favela do allow it. Thus, I could become Pac, King Consort of 2b2t and Prince of Favela, united under one extended title,”

“Your majesty?” Philza asked.

“Fine,” Fit said.

“Afore times for preparation, thou shalt be taken unto a waiting chamber in yond chapel. King Fit shall welcome his guests, whereupon he shall stand before them; and the ceremony shall commence. Then, Cellbit shall guide thee down yond aisle, and thou shalt proceed as instructed.”

“Can Mike?” 

“What?” 

“Can Mike walk me down the aisle?”

“King Cellbit is of higher rank, and he’s your brother too,” Philza stated.

“Hark! King Cellbit, though not of my blood, can ne'er bestride the aisle in this fair ceremony, for truth would be askew. With Mike, this would hold, but I beseech them both to grace me with their presence on this momentous day,”

“Fine, I did not expect you to make so many last-minute changes,” Philza stated.

“It’s my one, and hopefully, only wedding, of course I have opinions,” Pac defended.

“At a second ceremony after the marriage hath been solemnized, thou shalt be crowned as King Consort. Be mindful to remain close to King Fit, thy lord, throughout the festivities, and to avoid straying to join thine own family,”

“Are they permitted to come to us?”

“Yes,”

“Then all is fine,”

“And the kiss…”

“Pac, você tem certeza? Eu posso te libertar agora?” Felps suddenly asked. (Pac, are you sure? Can I set you free now?)

“No, I have to do this, thank you Felps,” Pac smiled.

“Did you give him permission to interrupt?” Fit asked.

“He always has permission, he is family,”

“As I was saying… the kiss, or well kisses, make them realistic please, you are in love, the people need to believe it, you two need to basically hang off of each other, kiss constantly, and then after this event will hopefully not have to kiss much anymore,”

“Philza must you state the obvious?” Fit asked, “'Tis a wedding, where both Pac of the noble house of Pac Favela and I shall partake in the sacred rites of matrimony, as is well known to all present.”

“I apologise your majesty,” Philza stated, “Following the conclusion of your regal coronation, thou shalt partake in a celebratory gathering and during that, a portrait shall be limned, with you three, and shall be emblazoned the morrow from henceforth thou art free to act as thou wilt, conjointly and severally, howsoever…”

“What?” Pac asked.

“You will be moving out of your room,”

“Que?”

“You will be moving into King Fit’s room,”

“What? No! I deserve privacy-”

“It is mandatory that certain retainers, sentries, and noblemen remain in ignorance of the marriage being a sham, inasmuch as rumours would proliferate should they perceive you retiring to your own bedchamber,” Philza stated.

“Do you seriously have no objections?” Pac asked King Fit.

“No, it is necessary,”

“Wherefore am I forbidden from discoursing in the tongue of my birth, lest I plot your demise, but am permitted to share thy bedchamber, wherein thou art most susceptible to harm? Pray thee, expound upon this seeming contradiction,”

“That is a fair point,” Fit stated, “Philza do you have an explanation?”

“No…”

“So, which is it? I'm permitted to speak Portuguese or I’m staying in my own room?” Pac asked, feeling confident.

“Pray thee, good ser, hearken unto my pleas. Wherefore art thou so obstinate in thy ways?” Fit complained.

“I am standing up for my rights as a citizen or future citizen of 2b2t, I am a person, I deserve those rights,”

“You aren’t a citizen yet,” Philza grumbled.

“And yet I am to be a higher rank than you,”

“PAC SHUT UP!” Fit shouted, “You will still be below me, and fine you can speak Portuguese when you have visitors but in no other circumstance, I am done here, Philza you can organise anything else that needs do and just inform us, no more changes,”

Fit stormed out of the room, leaving both Pac and Philza stunned at his sudden outburst, and sure Pac knew he was called the brutal king but he wasn’t expecting the random yell.

“Philza?” Pac asked.

“What now?”

“I need to propose too, don’t I?”

“Yes,”

“Can you get King Fit, and a crowd to the main balcony for sunset?”

“Yes, I can,”

The wedding party, it was something Pac had considered since he arrived in 2b2t, and even from the day his marriage was agreed upon. Obviously Mike would be his best man, obviously Bagi would be his maid of honour, yes he was having both, obviously Richas would be his ring bearer and flower boy and obviously Cellbit would walk him down the aisle, he also wanted Mike to as well, and Cellbit would be a groomsman. Felps would be his royal guard, by his side, from his adoption to his wedding, symbolic really, Pac wished he could outwardly express his appreciation for the man but he knows he can’t. That was five… best man, maid of honour, walker down the aisle, guard and flower boy, but Pac wanted someone else, someone without a special role to focus on, someone who would be there for him even when the others had to leave for their duties… Tubbo. 

He paced around his room; he’d gotten everyone’s outfits sorted. His wedding party would wear a deep purple, similar to the dark blue he wore, whereas Fit’s wedding party would wear a deep pink, similar to the dark red he wore. He had one outfit left, one for Tubbo. He was sitting in his room with Tubbo preparing to ask the question, but unsure how. His family were waiting for him, as his proposal to Fit would be in mere minutes, he was dressed formally, as Fit would be too, but this was more important. 

“Tubbo?”

“Yes?”

“Will you be one of my groomsmen?”

“What?”

“Will you be one of my groomsmen?”

“Me? Are you sure? I’m just a servant and you have your family, actual royalty, I can’t stand next to them, only behind… I’m not of the proper status-”

“It’s my wedding, I decided who stands with who, I literally do not care what King Fit says, please?”

“If you really want me to, then I’d love to,”

“Okay… that’s a relief, Bagi will fill you in on everything tonight, there’s a suit ready for you, matching colours with the rest of them, and for your daughter I’ve spoken to Niki and she is taking care of the kids at the wedding so she can stay with her,”

“Thank you,” Tubbo ran and held Pac in a hug, something the older man melted into.

Dearest Journal,

Upon the morrow, I shall be joined in holy matrimony. Verily, mine own name of lineage shall alter once more, yet I know not if I be prepared for such a transformation. I have to propose to Fit today, something I am anxious to do, as I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of everyone. 

Mine wedding party stands full, the vestments are at hand, Bagi doth give me surety that foods of Favela and revelry shall be had. Thus, my thoughts no longer dwell upon that matter. I am still anxious though, my own wedding, with a man I do not love, yet have to act as if I do, kissing and hugging him, clinging to him as a humble canine at his feet, Pitiful, in all reverence. Is this the manner that the kingdom deems befitting for their King consort? A pathetic little boy, who’ll do anything for the approval of his lover? Verily, I shall remain steadfast in my resolve, unyielding in my determination, yet I shall extend my affection with the utmost grace and largesse.

This night marks my final opportunity for abscondence, and I ponder the wisdom of its undertaking. While I harbour no desire to spend the remainder of my existence bestowed upon a foreign sovereign in matrimony, neither do I seek adversity for Cellbit, Mike, Bagi, Felps, and Richas, nor my Kingdom.

Dearest Pac.

Pac walked out to the balcony, hand in Fit’s, they were acting, just acting. It was all he told himself, he couldn’t mess up. The balcony, sat in the front of Fit’s castle, overlooked the kingdom of 2b2t but could also be seen from the front gates of the castle, where a crowd had gathered, courtesy of Philza. 

“You ready?” Pac whispered.

“Do your worst,” Fit smirked.

Pac got onto one knee, pulled out a red velvet box, he’d been practising as if he were actually proposing, Fit had turned away from him, ‘not noticing’ him on his knee yet. Eventually Fit turned around, and looked incredibly confused, to be fair Pac wasn’t sure if he knew the ring came with a knee and a declaration of love. 

“Fit EmCee of 2b2t,” Pac spoke loudly, hoping the people below could hear, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Fit smiled. 

Pac took the ring out of the red velvet box, inside silk red fabric held the ring, a simple gold band, something that would match with his wedding ring, where he could wear them on the same finger and they’d fit together. 

“Which finger do I wear it on?” Fit asked.

“The ring finger on your left hand,” Pac laughed. 

Everything was exaggerated for the audience they currently had; their theatrics may have felt over the top to each other but they were very convincing to everyone below. 

That night Pac couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t rest, he kept tossing and turning, and found no peace in his attempted slumber. At some point, around two in the morning he had decided that he’d had enough and decided to go for a walk. He was only allowed in about four or five rooms, but there were no restrictions on the times he could go anywhere. 

He ventured out of his room, wearing his night garments, but covered by a coat, given to him by Niki whilst he was in the infirmary, somewhere he wasn’t desperate to return to, yet he still wasn’t eating much, they didn’t have nice foods from Favela, but they would on his wedding day, he was glad Favela chefs would be working for the wedding, probably beginning now. 

He walked outside, onto the courts, behind the gardens, he saw a man in silver armour training, hitting a dummy over and over, in different ways, with different weapons, from different positions, honestly it was quite impressive. 

“Hello?” Pac asked.

“Salut!” Etoiles smiled.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be resting before tomorrow?”

“I could ask you the same thing your highness,” 

“I couldn’t sleep…”

“Same here,”

“Why, might I ask?”

“I have a bad feeling about tomorrow, like someone will attack, you?”

“Worried about signing the rest of my life away,”

“That’s fair enough,”

“You aren’t from 2b2t are you?”

“No, I’m from a far Kingdom, we don’t even speak common there,”

“French right?”

“Oui,”

“How long has it been since you’ve spoken your native language?”

“Only a few days, I teach Ramon,”

“Why does King Fit not want me to speak Portuguese?”

“It’s not my place to say,”

“S’il vous plaît?”

“Connaissez-vous le français?” (Do you know French?)

“Oui, je l’ai appris dans le cadre de mon éducation royale.” (Yes, I learned it as part of my royal upbringing.)

“Fine…I’ll tell you, but this doesn’t leave your mouth, else I’ll be beheaded,”

“Agreed,”

“King Fit’s marriage to his first husband wasn’t really one of love either, it was supposed to be, Fit fell in love, Spreen didn’t, for him it was all a façade, to steal the throne, the power, it was only five years ago that his marriage ended, but it hurt Fit, more than he’ll admit, and it hurt Ramon, not that the boy really remembers it, only five at the time of his father’s execution,”

“Wow,”

“Fit’s trust not only got betrayed that day, but his hope too, his chance for love gone, and well this arranged marriage won’t change his mind on that, he’s very protective over Ramon, and well Spreen used to speak Spanish around the castle, teaching it to all the staff and royals, hence why Ramon can speak it, I suppose Fit just doesn’t want you to be like Spreen,”

“I couldn’t be, if Spreen’s plan was premeditated, then it’s impossible, it was never my plan to marry a King, let alone the King of brutes, and our languages our different,”

“From his perspective that gives you more reason to betray him…”

“I suppose,”

“Your fighting is good,”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen a prince so good, unless in war,”

“I have fought in a war,”

“When?”

“When I was like 16 to 18, my memory is hazy but it was slightly before I became King,”

“KING?” 

“Shhh, and yes, I abdicated the crown,”

“You actually did?”

“Yes, and I have my reasons before you ask,”

“I wouldn’t,”

“Good,”

“I’m serious about the fighting comment though, if you want I could help teach you more, when you have free time,”

“I’d love that, help me prove myself to this Kingdom, I’m not some pathetic foreign prince, I’m Pac, a commoner, a thief,  a soldier, a prince, an ex-king and a future king consort,”

“Quite an impressive resumé,”

“I’ve lived a little,”

“Clearly, are you okay?”

Chapter Text

It was Fit’s final day being single, hopefully this time until the end of his life. His second wedding, his second husband, and his second time ruling alongside somebody else. He was terrified, and Philza had scheduled a meeting for him and Pac to attend shortly, so he knew something unpleasant would be mentioned. 

He walked out of his room, Etoiles was stationed outside his room, Ramon has Bad because Pac had Felps, it all made sense but soon Bad would leave his station to take both Pac and Felps to their desired destination, before being sent to Ramon’s room again. 

“Art thou prepared?” Etoiles asked.

“Yes,” Fit sighed, “Lead the way,”

Etoiles led Fit through the castle, Fit wasn’t sure which room Philza had called for a meeting in, but he knew that Etoiles would know. Eventually he sat down in one of the meeting rooms, waiting for Pac to arrive as Philza began to brief him on some things that only he would need to know.

“Are your chambers tidy?”

“I am not your child Philza, and yes they are, why?”

“Verily, be it known that on the morrow following, Pac shall take up residence within thy chamber, as you know, you’ll be married,”

“Believe it or not Philza, I have been married before and do know the ways of marriage,”

“I don’t believe Pac knows…”

“Oh-”

“So… that’s what I’m going to tell him today, alongside some other information,”

The two men awaited for Pac’s arrival, he was led inside by Bad and accompanied by Felps, eventually Fit dismissed Bad, as he did not know of the state of their relationship, and its falsehoods. 

“Tomorrow-” Philza began to speak.

“Save the speech,” Pac spat, “Tomorrow is the day of our union, as I am aware, I know I’ll have to be affectionate, hereon, I inquire, what knowledge remains yet to be imparted unto mine humble self? I beseech thee, grant me this humble request, that I might spend my final hours as a Lange in the company of my kin.”

“Be polite-” King Fit scolded, “Thou art to be a King consort, thou shalt have no place for churlishness,”

“The itinerary for tomorrow,” Philza sighed, “Afore the morn's embrace, let readiness commence. The servants' toils attend to their own charge; yet thou, fair sir, must bestir thyself ere the sun doth peek. Don thine raiment, tend to thy coiffure, and bestow upon thy visage the artistry that befits thy station.”

“Felps make note to inform Cellbit, Bagi and Mike please, they’ll help me prepare,” Pac said, turning his head to face Felps.

“Yes my prince,” 

“Your title will change from the prince of Favela to the King consort of 2b2t-” Philza continued.

“Lo, I did ponder the union of these realms, for in truth, it is not without precedent. The laws of both 2b2t and Favela do allow it. Thus, I could become Pac, King Consort of 2b2t and Prince of Favela, united under one extended title,”

“Your majesty?” Philza asked.

“Fine,” Fit said.

“Afore times for preparation, thou shalt be taken unto a waiting chamber in yond chapel. King Fit shall welcome his guests, whereupon he shall stand before them; and the ceremony shall commence. Then, Cellbit shall guide thee down yond aisle, and thou shalt proceed as instructed.”

“Can Mike?” 

“What?” 

“Can Mike walk me down the aisle?”

“King Cellbit is of higher rank, and he’s your brother too,” Philza stated.

“Hark! King Cellbit, though not of my blood, can ne'er bestride the aisle in this fair ceremony, for truth would be askew. With Mike, this would hold, but I beseech them both to grace me with their presence on this momentous day,”

“Fine, I did not expect you to make so many last-minute changes,” Philza stated.

“It’s my one, and hopefully, only wedding, of course I have opinions,” Pac defended.

“At a second ceremony after the marriage hath been solemnized, thou shalt be crowned as King Consort. Be mindful to remain close to King Fit, thy lord, throughout the festivities, and to avoid straying to join thine own family,”

“Are they permitted to come to us?”

“Yes,”

“Then all is fine,”

“And the kiss…”

“Pac, você tem certeza? Eu posso te libertar agora?” Felps suddenly asked. (Pac, are you sure? Can I set you free now?)

“No, I have to do this, thank you Felps,” Pac smiled.

“Did you give him permission to interrupt?” Fit asked.

“He always has permission, he is family,”

“As I was saying… the kiss, or well kisses, make them realistic please, you are in love, the people need to believe it, you two need to basically hang off of each other, kiss constantly, and then after this event will hopefully not have to kiss much anymore,”

“Philza must you state the obvious?” Fit asked, “'Tis a wedding, where both Pac of the noble house of Favela and I shall partake in the sacred rites of matrimony, as is well known to all present.”

“I apologise your majesty,” Philza stated, “Following the conclusion of your regal coronation, thou shalt partake in a celebratory gathering and during that, a portrait shall be limned, with you three, and shall be emblazoned the morrow from henceforth thou art free to act as thou wilt, conjointly and severally, howsoever…”

“What?” Pac asked.

“You will be moving out of your room,”

“Que?”

“You will be moving into King Fit’s room,”

“What? No! I deserve privacy-”

“It is mandatory that certain retainers, sentries, and noblemen remain in ignorance of the marriage being a sham, inasmuch as rumours would proliferate should they perceive you retiring to your own bedchamber,” Philza stated.

“Do you seriously have no objections?” Pac asked Fit.

“No, it is necessary,”

“Wherefore am I forbidden from discoursing in the tongue of my birth, lest I plot your demise, but am permitted to share thy bedchamber, wherein thou art most susceptible to harm? Pray thee, expound upon this seeming contradiction,”

“That is a fair point,” Fit stated, “Philza do you have an explanation?”

“No…”

“So, which is it? I'm permitted to speak Portuguese or I’m staying in my own room?” Pac asked, feeling confident.

“Pray thee, good ser, hearken unto my pleas. Wherefore art thou so obstinate in thy ways?” Fit complained.

“I am standing up for my rights as a citizen or future citizen of 2b2t, I am a person, I deserve those rights,”

“You aren’t a citizen yet,” Philza grumbled.

“And yet I am to be a higher rank than you,”

“PAC SHUT UP!” Fit shouted, “You will still be below me, and fine you can speak Portuguese when you have visitors but in no other circumstance, I am done here, Philza you can organise anything else that needs do and just inform us, no more changes,”

Fit stormed out of the room. He wasn’t really angry, just frustrated, Pac was being annoying and Fit could tell it was purposeful, to annoy him, and it worked, he was also being rude to Philza, and that it something he wouldn’t stand for. 

Fit was sitting on a picnic blanket with Ramon at his side, they were eating some snacks that the kitchen had packed for them. Ramon had been with his tutor earlier, despite it not being necessary for his education, as he wanted to learn about the traditions that would occur at the wedding. Fit found this sweet, his little boy, trying to learn for his benefit. He did feel guilty that he couldn’t give Ramon a second father, someone to love him unconditionally, as he did. 

“Fit?” Ramon asked.

“Yeah?”

“What time is the wedding tomorrow?”

“The actual ceremony starts at ten in the morning,”

“Richarlyson… Pac’s nephew, am I to walk down the aisle with him?”

“Yes, throwing flowers, and holding rings in your back pocket,”

“Will we be matching?”

“No, Richarlyson will be wearing purple and you pink,”

“Why?”

“You are in my wedding party, Richarlyson is in Pac’s, for some reason,”

“He isn’t royal is he?”

“No…”

“Who else is in your wedding party?”

“Philza, Etoiles, Bad, Niki, you and King Foolish,”

“King Foolish? Why?”

“We’ve known each other for a while, and become friends,”

“How many people are in Prince Pac’s wedding party?”

“Same as mine, six, King Cellbit, Princess Bagi, Prince Mike, Richarylson, Knight Felps, and somebody else, who he hasn’t told me yet,”

“Are you worried about that last person?”

“No, not really,” 

“Will Richarlyson become my cousin then? If Prince Pac becomes my dad?”

“I guess so, you’d have to speak to him about that,”

“Will he take some of your duties?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will he take some of your kingly duties, so you can spend more time with me?”

“I don’t know… I don’t think so either… he didn’t want to be King and yet he will be King consort as of tomorrow, I will do my best to respect that,”

Fit was getting proposed to, by Favela tradition, he knew that much, and he also knew that today was the last possible day that Pac could propose to him, not that he expected the man to want to, especially after his earlier outburst. 

Philza had told him to go to the balcony at around midday, just after lunch. Pac had arrived beside him and Philza wished them good luck before disappearing somewhere, Fit didn’t really know where. 

“Hold my hand,” Pac said.

“What?”

“We need to be in love, especially if I’m proposing to you, so hold my hand,”

“Fine…” Fit grumbled. 

Fit walked out to the balcony, hand in Pac’s, he was really confused and didn’t really understand the tradition and unfortunately for him, he hadn’t had time to research it. The balcony, sat in the front of Fit’s castle, overlooked the kingdom of 2b2t but could also be seen from the front gates of the castle, where a crowd had gathered, courtesy of Philza. 

“You ready?” Pac whispered.

“Do your worst,” Fit smirked.

Pac got onto one knee, pulled out a red velvet box, Fit had turned away from him, ‘not noticing’ him on his knee yet. Eventually Fit turned around, and looked incredibly confused, to be fair Pac wasn’t sure if he knew the ring came with a knee and a declaration of love. 

“Fit EmCee of 2b2t,” Pac spoke loudly, hoping the people below could hear, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Fit smiled. 

Pac took the ring out of the red velvet box, inside silk red fabric held the ring, it was a simple gold band, something that made Fit curious, was the design supposed to be simple, or was that because Pac had no interest in him. 

“Which finger do I wear it on?” Fit asked.

“The ring finger on your left hand,” Pac laughed. 

Everything was exaggerated for the audience they currently had; their theatrics may have felt over the top to each other but they were very convincing to everyone below. 

Fit was sitting at his desk, in his office, writing up several contracts for him, King Cellbit and Pac to sign, for both the wedding, the trade routes and other business to symbolise the alliance between the two countries. 

He was supposed to meet up with King Cellbit shortly, to read over the marriage certificate for him and Pac to sign tomorrow, so Cellbit could make sure it was fair for Pac, and honestly Fit found that understandable, he understood the protection that Cellbit must feel over his family, Fit would never want Ramon to marry someone he didn’t love. 

A sharp knock came from the door, and Fit called out, allowing whoever it was to enter, it was King Cellbit, accompanied by his knight Felps. 

“Welcome, honoured guest. I am completing this last missive. Pray, take your place,” Fit stated. 

“Pray tell, my Lord, is the indenture nigh complete for my perusal?” King Cellbit asked.

“Yea, close enough, though I wis thou hast items thou wouldst add, and items that I would,”

“With all due respect, we humbly beseech thee to apprise us of thy readiness. In the interim, we crave thy indulgence to engage in discourse with my esteemed knight.” 

“Feel free to do so,”

“Felps eu desejo sua ajuda, eu quero tornar a vida de Pac aqui o mais confortável possível.” Cellbit said. (Felps, I wish for your help; I want to make Pac's life here as comfortable as possible)

Fit finished writing the last sentence of the contract, hoping that King Cellbit would agree with the majority of it, and that he wouldn’t have to make many changes, it was already beginning to become late, and he was due to have dinner with Ramon. 

“My labour hath concluded,”

“Excellent, please read it to me,”

“Both Prince Pac and I must remain completely and utterly faithful to the marriage, as loyal and virtuous stewards of our sacred vows, abstaining from any dalliances, clandestine affairs, or even the merest hint of affection towards others.”

“I deem that fair, and the next point?”

“Prince Pac shall be bestowed the privilege of visiting the Kingdom of Favela at such a time as I see fit, yet I am not bound to deny his overtures permanently, and he shall receive leave in due course to invite the members of his household to visit him, with mine own permission”

“Yet I remain convinced that some measure must be established to circumscribe the extent of thy denials,”

“Well, except for in times of active conflict or other extraordinary events, he shall be permitted to visit the Kingdom of Favela no less often than once each twelve moons,”

“Thank you, continue,”

“Neither by us shall harm be visited upon the other in any wilful manner, nor shall it be granted unto me to sunder his head from his body save by his treasonous act or his attempt at regicide,”

“And…”

“And we shall protect each other from harm, lest I come to harm by his kinsmen, especially Prince Mike and I shall shield him from the perils of my kingdom,”

“Living quarters? Servants?” 

“Prince Pac, due to the frequent visitations of nobles and the potential exposure of the secret nature of our nuptials by members of the household staff, shall henceforth occupy our royal chamber. However, his original dwelling shall remain as a private refuge, attended by his guard Bad and servant Tubbo,”

“Vexing though it may seem, reason and logic dictate that I cannot argue elsewise. Hath he been made aware of this?”

“He has, my adviser Philza did inform him earlier,”

“Good, continue,”

“Pac is to make public appearances acting as if he is in love with me, and I shall do the same, and for the rest of our lives we shall be a married couple, no divorce, unless under dire circumstances,”

“Eu não gosto disso.” Felps stated. (I don’t like that)

“No,” King Cellbit said, “Divorce should always be an option,”

“Should I accede to your decree of divorcement, thou shalt discover a subterfuge within your own statutes or thine, whereby thou mayest extricate him from the bonds of matrimony. And my kingdom shall be diminished in power, yet again.”

“Do you not think that is the reason I do not want divorce to be off the table?” Cellbit asked.

“I know it is the reason, and hence why I am not allowing it, no divorce end of,”

“Fine…”

“Next clause, Pac’s comfort herein shall be a matter of import, yet not above all else, we shall prioritize it only if it may be feasible to accommodate his requirements,”

“Above what should it hold higher station?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who needs are of greater import? Thine own? Ramon's? Philza's? The castle guard's? The castle staff's?”

“Above Philza’s, above the guards and staff but not above Ramon’s,”

“And your own,”

“That should depend on the situation,”

“Give examples,”

“I am not sure of examples, why does it matter?”

“I am trying to defend my brother to the best of my ability,”

“From the big scary monster, me?”

“Yes,”

“Do you really think I wanted this marriage?”

“Why else would you have orchestrated it?”

“Yet had circumstance favoured my desires, I would continue to be in wedlock to mine own first husband and most passionately in affection with him, and the Realm of Favela and 2b2t might have discovered alliance through other means; however, since this path is not to be, I do place my trust in the counsel of my trusted advisor, and it is thus that he has spoken to me,”

“Your husband betrayed you, he can hardly be called your husband,” Cellbit spat.

“And Pac be not thy sworn brother of blood, as it hath come to mine ears,”

“Get those words out of your mouth, he is mine own sworn brother, by bond of fealty, know yet! and I would have never let him be married to a monster like you if I had the choice,”

“You had a choice,” Fit stated.

“Of two evils,”

“It was still a choice,”

“Foreasmuch as I pondered the destruction of countless lives in my brother's stead, and he, in his wisdom, chose otherwise, I, in deference to his will, sought a solution to his plight but to no avail,”

“He is wise then, it is never necessary to send countless lives to death,”

“Never necessary thine blade hath cleaved the skulls of many. Call me not a fool, for I ken thy soul and all thou holdest dear, and verily, I despise it utterly,”

“I hold my son dearest; do you despise him?”

“I despise your morals, your manipulation, and the way you treat those not included in your immediate family, your son and I hold no conflict,”

“I could have you thrown out of my kingdom for your words,”

“And then Pac would return with me and we have a war neither of us want,”

“Thou art of a keen wit, Cellbit, I must confess. Thou hast knowledge of that which thou mayst and mayst not utter in realms afar, yet thou treadest upon the perilous path with boldness,”

“One must be bold to be a King, surely you of all people should know?”

“I do,”

“Then we are in agreement, his comfort above all others, including yourself, excluding Prince Ramon’s, as your kingdom would do anything to assure your comfort, but not necessarily his,”

“Agreed,”

“Good,”

“Are there more sections that I should read?”

“Only ones which you read whilst in Favela, and a few other that Philza discussed with Pac himself,”

“I should like to read over it myself,”

“Understood, but Philza shall watch over you to ensure that you don’t change anything without permission from either myself or him,”

“I deem that justified,”

“Good, here you go then,”

Chapter Text

Pac’s legs shook, it was his wedding day. His wedding party, the people who were going to aid him throughout the entire day were waiting in his chambers, although the room wouldn’t be his after today, for him to finish showering. He’d been standing in the bathroom in his undergarments for at least ten minutes, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t bring himself to leave, he didn’t want to marry. 

“Pac se apresse,” Mike yelled. (Pac hurry up)

“Estou quase terminando,” Pac yelled back, despite not even being remotely ready, and everyone knew. (I’m nearly done)

Pac walked out of his bathroom, in his chambers stood Bagi, Felps, Mike, Richas and Tubbo, Cellbit hadn’t arrived yet. He walked out, in his undergarments, as well he couldn’t get into a corset on his own. Bagi handed him his shirt and trousers, which he swiftly put on. They had been prepared the night before by Tubbo, and it was clear as there wasn’t a single crease in either. His blazer was being held in Tubbo’s arms, and the corset was held in Bagi’s, Richas and Tubbo were sat on his bed, Tubbo was speaking to Richas in incredibly simple English, and it was something that made Pac’s heart swell with joy, his closest friend in 2b2t interacting with his son. 

“Mike queria ajudá-lo com seu espartilho, tudo bem?” Bagi asked. (Mike wanted to help you with your corset, is that okay?)

“Sim, basta fazê-lo” Pac said. (Yes, just do it)

Pac lifted his arms and Mike wrapped the corset around him, placing the modesty garments in place and began to tie the laces through the grommets before he immediately yanked on the laces, hard. 

“Pelo amor de Deus, Mike!” Pac wheezed. (For God’s sake, Mike!)

“Mike, você vai matá-lo, ele não consegue respirar, pelo amor de tudo que é sagrado e santo,” Bagi cursed. (Mike, you're gonna kill him, he can't breathe, for the love of all that is sacred and holy,)

Bagi immediately rushed over to Pac and grabbed the laces from Mike’s hands, and quickly released the tension, as she did this Pac’s breathing got heavier as oxygen returned to his lungs, he turned around to glare at Mike, who in turn just grinned at him. She undid all of the lace, before she re-tied the whole thing, the shell of the corset was beautiful, Pac wondered how something so beautiful could be so dangerous when worn both correctly and incorrectly, he knew many women, including his own sister, had fainted during long periods of wearing them, and they wore them often and when they didn’t they wore busts, he had little practise wearing corsets, only having worn them a few times in court, to make a fun, yet formal appearance. 

Bagi pulled on the lase, his breath left his body once more, and retrieving oxygen felt ten times more difficult, but it was easier than when Mike had tightened it, he might have to struggle to get oxygen but at least he actually could. The corset had the name Fit EmCee embroidered on the bottom, just above the silver lining, and Pac hoped that nobody would see it. He finished getting changed, putting his blazer on, putting his shoes on, which had  Bagi’s name on the bottom, and sitting in the chair in front of Bagi, so she could do his makeup. 

“Tubbo?” Pac asked.

“Yes?”

“Where is Cellbit?”

“The King of Favela did not wish to attend this,”

“He didn’t…” 

“No, I’m sorry,”

“It’s fine, Bagi paint my face,”

“Não é tinta, idiota, é maquiagem,” Bagi laughed. (It's not paint, idiot, it's makeup,)

Everyone was wearing incredibly beautiful garments, Bagi’s dress was elegant, it had a base colour of black but had purple silk and lace which flowed on top. Her corset was a deep purple with silver gems, silver bones and silver channels. The dress was flowy, and opened up to reveal a rich purple, which contrasted from the black, her dress was covered in purple flowers. She wore silver jewellery, to match Pac’s colours and she glowed while wearing the garment. Tubbo, Felps, Mike and Cellbit all wore a purple, silk suit, with a white shirt underneath with a silk tie, with a light purple waistcoat, which had silver buttons, again to match Pac’s colours, and had purple flowers embroidered on, they all wore a suit jacket which matched the waistcoats, but held a small bouquet of real flowers in the breast pocket, of purple and blue roses. 

The wedding had officially started, Richas and Ramon were currently walking down the aisle to the intro of Aliança by Tribalistas, before any of the singing began, Bagi would soon walk out, arm in arm with Tina, once the singing actually began, before Tina would take her seat and Bagi would take her place beside Richas, Felps would then walk up behind her, with Tubbo, and they would take their places beside Bagi, then it was Pac’s turn, he would walk up arm in arm with both Mike and Cellbit, but currently he was pacing around his room in a panic.

“Pac, você precisa se acalmar,” Mike said. (Pac you need to calm down)

“It’ll be alright, it’s not too bad in 2b2t, and besides you’ve got me,” Tubbo said, trying to find a positive.

“You are right Tubbo, I can enjoy my life with you as a friend, I don’t need love,”

“Okay, well Bagi I believe your cue is now so… go,” Cellbit said. 

“Tchau,” she smiled, as she grabbed Tina’s arm. 

“Is Roier here?” Pac asked, they had all decided to speak mainly in English for Tubbo’s benefit.

“Sim, he’s here, sat beside Vegetta, and Leo,”

“What about Foolish?”

“He’s one of Fit’s groomsmen, did you not know?”

“Não,” 

Tubbo and Felps left the room shortly after, and then Pac wrapped his arms around Cellbit and Mike’s. He took a deep breath, well as deep as he could considering he was wearing a literal corset and began to walk. Step. Step. Step. He couldn’t fall, he couldn’t make a mess of himself, he couldn’t sneeze or cough or breathe, but that was because of the corset not because of the rules, why was it so difficult to breathe in a corset?

He reached the front, and lifted his head to see King Fit, in all his glory, he wore the same red suit from the day he helped with the fitting, except this time it had been tailored to his shape more. He could see Fit’s flesh arm poking out from underneath his cape, he could see muscles that were normally covered, and would’ve had to hold himself back from gasping except he couldn’t gasp in a corset, considering he could barely breathe. He looked down towards Ramon, to see his little pink prince outfit and smiled. He turned to see Niki, who wore a stunning pink dress, as if she were a princess, and Pac thought she deserved to feel pretty, in a dress that made her features pop, she like Pac’s party, had flowers incorporated in the design of her dress, with puffy sleeves, being one of the few areas without flowers. 

Standing beside Fit and Pac was the priest, Antoine, he wore a simple black suit. The music stopped as Pac finally turned to face Fit fully and smiled, he had to smile, no frowning, despite the pain in his chest, despite the feeling of fear for the future or the feeling of sorrow for leaving his family behind, and whilst he could technically cry as many did on their wedding days he didn’t want to. 

Fit reached out for Pac’s hands and Pac placed his hands on top, not daring to look in Fit’s eyes, and he didn’t doubt that the man refused to look in his too. 

“We are gathered here today, to witness the union of two lives,” Antoine began, “As they promise to love, trust in that love, and honour each other as individuals while spending the rest of their lives together,”

The whole room cheered, and in that moment Pac realised just how many people were watching, the cathedral was massive, holding at least twenty thousand people, from all Kingdoms, to see his wedding. He felt a lot of pressure to not mess up, at least he looked good, he trusted Bagi to have made him beautiful.

“Your journey of marriage begins with ‘I do’, cherish this bond as it belongs to only the two of you, start each day with gratitude and compassion for the other and unconditional love will follow, believe in each other, support each other’s dreams and remember to dream together too. Always give more than you think the other needs, trust, respect and appreciate each other, allow the gods to be the foundation of your marriage, it is their plan for you two to be wed. With each year you will grow stronger together, and become one, may you and your marriage be blessed,” Antoine said, addressing the two of them, “King Fit EmCee, are you ready to say your vows?”

“Yes,” Fit smiled, something that was quite clearly fake, or at least from Pac’s eyes.

“Repeat after me,”

“I Fit EmCee do take Pac Lange-”

“Actually, it’s Pac Tazer,” Pac whispered. 

“I Fit EmCee do take Pac Tazer, in sickness and in health,” Antoine continued.

“I Fit EmCee do take Pac Tazer, in sickness and in health,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“Thank you, and Pac Tazer are you ready to say your vows,”

“Yes,”

“I Pac Tazer do take Fit EmCee, in sickness and in health,”

“I Pac Tazer do take Fit EmCee, in sickness and in health,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“Thank you,” Antoine smiled, “You have declared your love for each other, in the presence of the gods, in the presence of the church and the people of multiple kingdoms, but I must ask the crowd, does anybody object to the marriage of King Fit EmCee and Prince Pac Tazer?”

The silence was deafening, nobody said a word, nobody dared to go against King Fit, he was a scary King, Pac did know this, and yet a man stood up, a man in a white suit, dressed head to toe in white, and if Pac had worn the traditional colours of a bride, maybe he would’ve been offended but he was wearing blue so he didn’t really care. 

“I object,” King Cucurucho said, loud and clear.

Gaps rang out through the room, both Fit and Pac turned to face the man, Pac was praying that the marriage would not commence. 

“I have to ask why,” Antoine said.

“Because I do not believe their love is true, I believe Prince Pac was forced into this marriage,”

“Prince Pac,” Antoine said. 

Pac turned to face the priest, as the entire crowd watched him, his family, the strangers, and Fit himself. 

“This will be your only chance to say, do you wish to marry Fit?”

“I do wish to marry him,” Pac swallowed his protests. 

“Etoiles escort King Cucurucho out of the cathedral,” Fit whispered to his groomsman.

Everyone watched as Etoiles placed his hand on Cucurucho’s shoulder and escorted the man out, flashing his sword towards the man, in case of any protest, before returning to Fit’s side. Antoine asked the King whether he could continue and Fit nodded. 

“I declare your marriage both legally and spiritually binding, and pronounce you husband and husband,” Antoine turned to face Fit, “Your majesty, you may now kiss your husband,”

Antoine stepped aside, as did Fit’s groomsmen, Pac’s groomsmen, Fit’s groomsmaid and Pac’s groomsmaid. Fit’s metal arm slid under Pac’s blazer and rested just above Pac’s hip, against his corset, his flesh arm settled against the back of Pac’s neck, Pac watched as his lips as they separated slightly, adam’s apple bobbing, taking a final breath, Pac did the same, feeling oxygen rush into his lungs, before he was immediately dipped over. He felt warm, chapped lips press against his own, moving in a pattern that he desperately tried to replicate. All he could hear was the cheering and clapping of the audience, he couldn’t hear clothes shuffling as he dipped, like he should’ve been able to, only cheers, and it helped him not fall into a spiral. He could smell Fit’s cologne, a scent that could only be described as sweet yet strong. Pac rested his arms behind Fit’s head, assuring his balance as they continued to kiss. He was feeling slightly faint, from lack of oxygen, but they had to put on a show, so he dealt with it. Pac felt Fit’s metal arm moving against his corset, tracing the boning as if to determine the shape of his husband. After a short while the cheers died down, and Fit lifted Pac back up to a standing position, before ending the kiss, Pac took many deep breaths, as did Fit, they both smiled brightly, and held hands. 

Bagi handed Pac his bouquet, as Niki handed Fit his, but Fit immediately handed his to Pac too, a gesture that the crowd found adoring, yet Pac found it patronising and belittling, why was Fit too good for a simple bouquet?

There was a throne in the cathedral, why it was there Pac didn’t know, but he was about to be crowned, he’d been practising what to say, based on a list that Philza had gifted him on his arrival in 2b2t. The wedding parties had taken their seats, except Bagi, as she was to stand by his side, he especially requested it. She held both his and Fit’s bouquets, which would swiftly be returned to him after his crowning. 

“Prince Pac,” Antoine began, “Do you accept the role of King consort, to serve the country of 2b2t?”

“I come to serve not to be served,” he responded, the words echoing in his mind. 

“I hereby present to you, King consort of 2b2t and Prince of Favela, Pac EmCee,” Antoine addressed the crowd, “Wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage and service; are you willing to do the same?”

“Gods save King consort Pac,” the crowd cheered, “Goddesses save Prince Pac, and bless his family,”

Pac was handed a sword, one decorated in jewels, and gold, not one of battle, he was also handed a staff, matching the sword. He turned to the crowd, and sat down on the throne. Cheers rang out, he could see a tear in Mike’s eye, Bagi smiled at him, Richas was jumping up and down, but Cellbit… Cellbit looked cold. Antoine lowered his crown onto his head, and whilst it was the same crown he wore frequently in Favela, as prince, it was still a symbol of new beginnings. 

“I, Antoine, the Priest of 2b2t, will be faithful and true, and faith and truth will bear unto you, our sovereign Lord, defender of the faith, and unto your heirs and successors according to law,”

Pac sat in the carriage beside Fit, they were alone, as husband and husband. It was done and there was no going back, not until death. They sat in silence for the majority of the ride back to the castle where the celebrations would begin. 

“Are you okay?” Fit asked.

“Fine,”

“Fair countenance, thy visage betrays signs of exhaustion, yet it is not apparent that thou hast engaged in strenuous physical exertion. Art thou indisposed in health?”

“You try wearing a corset and tell me how easy it is to breathe when somebody is kissing you for five fucking minutes,”

“Okay… I apologise,”

“For what? The kiss or the insult?”

“Perhaps both, you should know I was most uncomfortable too,”

“I imagine so,”

“I believe there is rice everywhere in both of our outfits,” Fit laughed, “The guests had no mercy whilst throwing rice over us,”

“No, no they did not, once I remove my corset I should imagine that many grains will fall,”

“Are you prepared to continue the act?”

“Yes,”

“I advise you grab my arm and cling to me then, as we leave the carriage,”

“Philza already told me to, but wouldn’t it be better if you stepped out and held your hand out to aid me in my exit of the vehicle?”

“I do agree with you there, I shall,”

The carriage halted, and Pac heard Etoiles voice call out informing them that they had arrived. They had taken a scenic route so that the guests could all arrive before them, the carriage door was opened by a servant, someone that Pac didn’t recognise and Fit stepped out. Fit held his hand out and Pac took it, gracefully stepping out of the carriage. Once he had landed on solid ground, Fit lifted his hand to his mouth and left a soft kiss upon his skin. Pac wrapped his arms around Fit’s flesh arm, looking up at the taller man with a false smile. 

They walked inside, where music was playing loudly. Pac scanned the room, there were multiple tables full of food, such as bem-casado, pão de queijo, feijoada, were on the Brazilian half. The tables consisted of main courses, snacks and desserts, Pac didn’t really recognise many of the 2b2t foods, but would probably be expected to eat some. Pac’s attention was immediately drawn to his wedding cake. It was a seven-tiered white cake, with blue and red roses painted on in edible ink, as well as real ones pressed in too. On some of the tiers it had a marbled design, where both silver and gold had been painted on to make it more regal. It was a feat of cooking, mastery even and Pac made a mental note to thank Chayanne when he got the chance to. 

Fit led him over to a group of nobles, Pac recognised their brooches as the symbol of the Federation, he could imagine that they weren’t too happy about their King being thrown out of the wedding ceremony. 

“Your majesties,” the eldest woman bowed, and the rest followed.

“Rise,” Fit chuckled, “How fare ye all in your merriments this eve?”

“Verily, most excellent and delectably merry, verily beseech thee wherefore thou hath did bespeak. 'Tis most assuredly did display much veritable diligence in thy most gracious and regal planneth,” a young woman said.

“'Tis the most perfect union of realms twain” the man smiled.

“King Fit; can I borrow you for a second?” Philza asked, rushing over.

“Will you be okay with these people, my love?” Fit asked.

“Yes,” Pac smiled.

“Twice noble sovereign, what are thy sentiments upon becoming sovereign of two realms?” the man asked.

“My humble abode, Favela, shall forever hold a place of utmost importance within mine own heart; yet, 2b2t doth present itself as an auspicious dawn.”

“Tis a sight most fair to behold, thy countenance doth shine with comeliness,” the younger woman commented.

“His Royal Majesty, King Fit, shall undoubtedly partake in a most enjoyable experience of unlacing your corset, if you know what I mean,” the older woman smirked. 

“My private life between the castle walls is for me and husband to know, and us to know alone,” Pac played along, despite being incredibly uncomfortable, praying that Fit would return soon.

“Of course, as should every royals,” the old woman smiled, “But between you and me, the tighter and more difficult to undo, the better it’ll be for your husband,” 

“Is that what you did on our wedding day then?” the man laughed.

“Well of course,”

“Mama, I don’t wish to hear about that,” the young woman complained. 

Thankfully for Pac, Fit returned after a short while, and he didn’t have to deal with old women speculating about his sex life. Whilst Fit would have to help him undo the lacing, it wouldn’t be an enjoyable experience for either of them, it would be frustrating as the only people who really knew how to undo them were women, and he wouldn’t be permitted to interact with any man nor woman who wasn’t his husband, or step-son, after the party, so he would have to deal with Fit. 

“How did that go?” Fit asked.

“Dreadfully,”

“You ready for the next people?”

“Do we really have to say hello to everyone?”

“Well, no… but every King in 2b2t has done it before on their wedding day,”

“And technically your reign has had plenty of firsts, can’t this situation be the same?”

“What did they say to you?”

“Nothing…”

“Pac,” Fit voice became sterner.

“They said you’d have fun unlacing my corset,”

“And wherefore hath that caused thee such distress?”

“Are you clueless?”

“From alas, none I have ever shown favor upon has donned a corset.”

“They are talking about us having sex, and of course I’m uncomfortable with that,”

“Oh-”

“I am loath to address further haughty courtiers,”

“Verily, I do comprehend, Know then that I shall convey to thee a decision in this regard: Either shall we be seated upon our thrones, and have our visage limned for the morrow's tapestry, or shall we engage in a trial of arms forthwith.”

“Let’s have the artist sketch us,”

“Very well,”

Pac was waiting by the throne, he was almost certain that Fit had said that there were plural, and yet he only saw one. The throne was gold, with red velvet cushioning and delicately structured. Fit had spoken to Philza, who was going to address the crowd and inform them of the itinerary, and he had gone to find the artist. 

“Where is the second throne?” Fit asked.

“Am I meant to have one?” Pac asked.

“Yea, and it is in the colours thou told me of, azure and argent, where is it?” 

“Your majesty, it hath yet to be fully wrought.” a servant said.

“What do you mean?” Fit asked, “I ordered it to be made at least two weeks ago,”

“My Liege, illness has befallen the artisan, for which I tender my sincerest apologies. The commission, by God's grace, shall be ready within a se'nnight.”

“That is just-” Fit began.

“My fair gentlewoman, be of good cheer, for this matter weighs not upon thy conscience. Illness befalls all mortals, and blame is not thine to bear. Cease thy fretting, for thou art but a conduit of tidings. Summon forth a confection from the banquet's repast and seek solace therein,” Pac smiled to her, and she bowed before turning away.

“What are we to do then?” the painter asked.

“Pac will sit upon the throne, I shall sit on the arm of it,” Fit declared. 

“Are you sure? I can stand, it is your throne,”

“And you are my husband,” Fit said, before whispering in Pac’s ear, “It’ll be good publicity,”

“Okay,” Pac smiled.

He took a seat on the throne; it was comfortable for a chair made of gold. Fit perched on the arm of the chair, resting his arm behind Pac, as Pac leaned into him, both of them smiled as the artist began a rough sketch of them both.

The loud voices of the room had ceased, everyone was watching them and the painter. There were whispers of Fit’s act of sitting on the arm, opposed to Pac standing, which would be the proper way to deal with the situation, had it been a King prior to Fit. 

He artist sketched everything from the flow of Fit’s cape, to the boning of Pac’s corset, even the way the gemstones in their crowns glistened, and he hadn’t even begun painting yet, something he would begin tomorrow, which meant Pac would have to put on the corset again, he might as well live in it. The coolness of Fit’s left arm, would be something Pac would have to get used to, holding somebody with a prosthetic just like his except a hand was more used than a leg. 

“After this we fight,” Fit whispered. 

“I don’t know if I can in the corset,” Pac hid his concern in a smile.

Chapter Text

It was Fit’s wedding day. Correction: it was Fit’s second wedding day, but this time there would be no divorce and it was simply political, not that the public knew that. He was already wearing his suit, already in the cathedral, waiting for guests to arrive. All his groomsmen plus Niki stood by the entrance, ready to welcome the first few people. The first few people entered, the Kingdom of Fools, without their King, Foolish, who was one of Fit’s groomsmen.

“King Fit,” Vegetta bowed, “I pray that the blessings of joy and fulfilment attend thee in thy new union.”

“Thank you,”

“Thus, two of us shall unite in matrimony with members of the royal house of Favela,” Roier laughed, and Fit wondered whether Cellbit had told him about the real status of the wedding.

“Wherefore, I bid welcome to all assembled here, and express my gratitude for thy presence.”

“Verily, we wouldst not fail to grace this auspicious day, particularly since thou hast bestowed upon mine husband the singular honour of serving as a groomsman in thy noble retinue,”

Fit walked off and greeted some nobles, then some Kings, and Queens of minor kingdoms, and some larger, before everyone was seated and Antoine, the priest, began the ceremony. 

“Welcome everyone,” he smiled, “Today we are here to witness the marriage of Fit EmCee and Pac Lange, with that said, let the wedding commence,”

A song that Fit didn’t recognise began to play, it was a soft tune, and as it played he saw his son, and Pac’s nephew walk up the aisle together, they both held baskets of flowers, just as Fit held his bouquet that Tallulah had prepared him, and he saw her smile from her seat in the third aisle back, beside Missa. He hadn’t seen the outfits that Pac’s groomsmen would be wearing until Richarlyson, he wore a purple, silk suit, with a matching tie, and a white shirt underneath to contrast, he wore a small waistcoat, like the one Ramon wore except his had more intricate details, such as embroidered flowers, accompanied by real roses. 

Pac’s entire wedding party entered, Bagi and Tina, Felps and Tubbo, who he wasn’t expecting, and then eventually Pac, accompanied by both Cellbit and Mike. Pac was smiling bright, yet Fit could see the sadness in his eyes, and the fear. Fit did feel guilty about forcing Pac to marry him, yet he didn’t have any other choice, and whilst the marriage had been orchestrated with the threat of war, if he did have a war, and if he did win then he’d have to of had to find another man to marry, his marriage was non-negotiable, and that was a fact that solely Philza knew. 

Fit reached out for Pac’s hands and Pac placed his hands on top, Fit couldn’t look in his eyes, but out of his peripheral vision, he saw Pac refusing to glance at him, something he understood greatly. 

“We are gathered here today, to witness the union of two lives,” Antoine began, “As they promise to love, trust in that love, and honour each other as individuals while spending the rest of their lives together,”

The whole room cheered, Fit remembered his first wedding, not nearly half the amount of people currently in attendance were there for his first wedding, the wedding with a man he did love, even if he did regret that now. He knew that Pac wouldn’t commit treason, nor attempt regicide, but there was still an inkling of fear present in his chest. 

“Your journey of marriage begins with ‘I do’, cherish this bond as it belongs to only the two of you, start each day with gratitude and compassion for the other and unconditional love will follow, believe in each other, support each other’s dreams and remember to dream together too. Always give more than you think the other needs, trust, respect and appreciate each other, allow the gods to be the foundation of your marriage, it is their plan for you two to be wed. With each year you will grow stronger together, and become one, may you and your marriage be blessed,” Antoine said, addressing the two of them, “King Fit EmCee, are you ready to say your vows?”

“Yes,” Fit smiled, desperately trying to fake a smile.

“Repeat after me,”

“I Fit EmCee do take Pac Lange-”

“Actually, it’s Pac Tazer,” Pac whispered. 

“I Fit EmCee do take Pac Tazer, in sickness and in health,” Antoine continued.

“I Fit EmCee do take Pac Tazer, in sickness and in health,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“Thank you, and Pac Tazer are you ready to say your vows,”

“Yes,”

“I Pac Tazer do take Fit EmCee, in sickness and in health,”

“I Pac Tazer do take Fit EmCee, in sickness and in health,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“Thank you,” Antoine smiled, “You have declared your love for each other, in the presence of the gods, in the presence of the church and the people of multiple kingdoms, but I must ask the crowd, does anybody object to the marriage of King Fit EmCee and Prince Pac Tazer?”

Silence rang out. Fit could hear heavy breathing, both from himself and everyone near him, excluding Pac, he wasn’t quite sure why, as he assumed the man would be incredibly nervous especially in this moment. Fit prayed that none of Pac’s siblings objected as they knew the truth, whereas if someone from the crowd objected, which wouldn’t happen, surely, nobody would believe them.

A man in white stood, Cucurucho, Fit recognised him almost immediately, he knew the face, it scared his nightmares, and left a shadow on his mind. 

“I object,” King Cucurucho said, loud and clear.

Gaps rang out through the room, both Fit and Pac turned to face the man, Pac was praying that the marriage would not commence. 

“I have to ask why,” Antoine said.

“Because I do not believe their love is true, I believe Prince Pac was forced into this marriage,”

“Prince Pac,” Antoine said. 

Pac turned to face the priest, as the entire crowd watched him, his family, the strangers, and Fit himself. 

“This will be your only chance to say, do you wish to marry Fit?”

“I do wish to marry him,” Pac swallowed his protests. 

Fit was incredibly glad that Pac hadn’t betrayed not only his trust but Philza’s and the entire Kingdom of 2b2t’s too. He turned to Etoiles and whispered in his ear. 

“Escort him out, we’ll hold the wedding until you return,” 

Etoiles nodded, walked over to Cucurucho, placed his hand on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, he flashed the sword that rested on his hip, and Fit smiled. Etoiles was not just his guard but a friend too. The cathedral was silent, the sound of footsteps leaving was all that could be heard, before the sound of armour outside, before Etoiles returned with a smile and a nod to inform Fit. 

“I declare your marriage both legally and spiritually binding, and pronounce you husband and husband,” Antoine turned to face Fit, “Your majesty, you may now kiss your husband,”

Antoine stepped aside, as did the entire wedding party, Fit braced himself mentally. He could kiss a man he didn’t love, and act as if he did, it shouldn’t be difficult, he just had to remember what he did at his first wedding, surely. Fit’s metal arm slid under Pac’s blazer and rested just above Pac’s hip, against Pac’s corset, his flesh arm settled behind Pac’s neck. He opened his lips, sucking in air, in preparation and watched as Pac did the same, Pac’s eyes on his. Fit balanced himself before dipping Pac, he pressed his lips to the warmth in front of him. Pac’s lips were smooth, and soft, unlike his, he began to move in a pattern that was unusual, he honestly didn’t know what he was doing, he hadn’t kissed much in his lifetime. Pac began to replicate his movements and smile against his lips, people were cheering, clearly admiring the sight. Pac smelt of the rose and white ipe from the bouquet he held, Fit’s own bouquet was currently held by Niki containing both roses and allamanda. Hands rested behind his head, something that slightly shocked him, as he wasn’t expecting the change in Pac’s grip, Fit’s began to move his metal arm up and down Pac’s corset, tracing the lumps and bumps of it, it was an interesting texture, much like Pac’s lips. Eventually the cheers died down and Fit lifted Pac into a standing position, he would have to speak to Pac about his weight, he didn’t expect the man to be so light, even if he hadn’t been eating properly. He took deep breaths, kissing for such a long time was a tiring experience. 

Pac’s coronation was next, crowned King consort of 2b2t, with a new surname, one he had never worn before, Fit’s surname. Fit had a husband, he actually had one, one who took his surname. The coronation was quickie and they didn’t spend much time on it. 

After the coronation they walked out together, hand in hand, grinning like newlyweds, except in their case none of the smiles were real. The guests threw rice over them, showering them in the food, a grain of rice got stuck in Pac’s hair, so Fit plucked it out, receiving many more cheers. 

Once in the carriage they set off, they were taking a slightly scenic route, so the guests could arrive at Fit’s castle first, and so he and Pac would make a dramatic entrance, acting as if they were deeply in love, before continuing with the rest of the traditions that the day would hold. 

Fit noticed Pac looked a little red, as if he couldn’t breathe, as if he had done some exercise, which he almost definitely hadn’t, Fit had seen him since the wedding began and he wasn’t as red as he was now at the start. 

“Are you okay?” Fit asked, deciding the voice his concerns.

“Fine,”

“Fair countenance, thy visage betrays signs of exhaustion, yet it is not apparent that thou hast engaged in strenuous physical exertion. Art thou indisposed in health?”

“You try wearing a corset and tell me how easy it is to breathe when somebody is kissing you for five fucking minutes,”

“Okay… I apologise,”

“For what? The kiss or the insult?”

“Perhaps both, you should know I was most uncomfortable too,”

“I imagine so,”

“I believe there is rice everywhere in both of our outfits,” Fit laughed, “The guests had no mercy whilst throwing rice over us,”

“No, no they did not, once I remove my corset I should imagine that many grains will fall,”

“Are you prepared to continue the act?”

“Yes,”

“I advise you grab my arm and cling to me then, as we leave the carriage,”

“Philza already told me to, but wouldn’t it be better if you stepped out and held your hand out to aid me in my exit of the vehicle?”

“I do agree with you there, I shall,”

Fit led Pac over to a group of nobles, their brooches held the symbol of the Federation, and Fit knew that they weren’t too happy about their King being thrown out of the wedding ceremony. 

“Your majesties,” the eldest woman bowed, and the rest followed.

“Rise,” Fit chuckled, “How fare ye all in your merriments this eve?”

“Verily, most excellent and delectably merry, verily beseech thee wherefore thou hath did bespeak. 'Tis most assuredly did displayeth much veritable diligence in thy most gracious and regal planneth,” a young woman said.

“'Tis the most perfect union of realms twain” the man smiled.

“King Fit; can I borrow you for a second?” Philza asked, rushing over.

“Will you be okay with these people, my love?” Fit asked, forcing himself to say the pet name.

“Yes,” Pac smiled.

Philza grabbed his arm and dragged him away, into the corridor outside the ballroom. He’d been in this hallway many times during his life, during his reign, but never before did it feel so ominous. 

Philza placed a finger on his lips and began to walk. Fit followed, hopefully this wouldn’t take too long… but if Philza grabbed him then it must be serious as Philza was normally able to deal with all the kingdom’s issues himself, having been a King himself. 

“Is there a problem?” Fit whispered. 

“Yea, and a weighty one, now make haste”

“Philza just tell me,”

“The watchmen upon the battlements did espy a curiosity.”

“What?”

“Beneath the raiments of nobility, concealed lies weaponry of daggers and swords, yet memory fails them as to their origins,”

“From whence kingdom did these supplicants hail?”

“Verily, the matter stands thus: there be at least four from each of the five main kingdoms, as well as certain from the lesser kingdoms.”

“No memory?”

“Aye, they all recall being clad, ere their wits did depart, and lack remembrance of their arrival at the nuptial feast,”

“How many?”

“Twenty from the five principal Kingdoms, and twelve from the subordinate Kingdoms, amounting in total to thirty-two,”

“Magic?”

“Niki believes poison,”

“Poison?”

“Yea verily, hath she informed me that whilst a spell could in theory accomplish such a feat, but the cost in energy would be exorbitant.”

“So… it’s poison?”

“It must be so, save if all thirty-and-two persons be forging tales, yet none have ever made acquaintance before this.”

“Get noble Knight Etoiles, he art hereby commanded to seize and confiscate all weapons present at the wedding forthwith, save those borne by the royal guard. Upon the conclusion of the festivities this eventide, he shalt present himself before me with a full report of his actions.”

“Understood,” Philza said, “Now go back to the party, if you are missing for too long disaster will strike, and you wouldn’t want to keep your husband waiting,”

“Oh, do shush,” Fit laughed, before returning to Pac. 

Pac looked uncomfortable, still stood with the same nobles that Fit had left him with. The women were giggling, and the man held a chuckle himself, whereas Pac forced a laugh, Fit wondered what was going on.

“How did that go?” Fit asked.

“Dreadfully,”

“You ready for the next people?”

“Do we really have to say hello to everyone?”

“Well, no… but every King in 2b2t has done it before on their wedding day,”

“And technically your reign has had plenty of firsts, can’t this situation be the same?”

“What did they say to you?”

“Nothing…”

“Pac,” Fit voice became sterner.

“They said you’d have fun unlacing my corset,”

“And wherefore hath that caused thee such distress?”

“Are you clueless?”

“From alas, none I have ever shown favor upon has donned a corset.”

“They are talking about us having sex, and of course I’m uncomfortable with that,”

“Oh-”

“I am loath to address further haughty courtiers,”

“Verily, I do comprehend, Know then that I shall convey to thee a decision in this regard: Either shall we be seated upon our thrones, and have our visage limned for the morrow's tapestry, or shall we engage in a trial of arms forthwith.”

“Let’s have the artist sketch us,”

“Very well,”

Pac lent against Fit’s metal arm, he felt the light weight of the man beside him, whilst he sat on top of the arm of his own throne. He had told Pac that him sitting where he was, was good publicity, and whilst it was the reason he did so was so Pac could be more comfortable, he may be the brutal king but he wasn’t cruel, and he had a heart. 

Together they posed for the brief sketch. In the corner of his eye, he saw Ramon talking to Pac’s nephew, and he smiled. He was glad Ramon was making friends, especially one that could be considered family. 

“Your majesty,” the painter spoke, “The sketch is finished, I can complete the painting tomorrow,”

“Of course,” Fit smiled, “Pac?”

“Time for the fight already?”

“Yes, are you ready?”

Pac walked over to Mike, who held his sword, hugged Richas before standing in the centre of the ballroom. Fit mimicked his movements, walked to Philza, who held his sword, and hugged Ramon. 

“En guard,” they both said in unison.

They both circled each other, crossing their legs as they shifted their weight from one foot to the next. Fit twisted the sword in his hand, he glanced up, and struck, exactly where he had been instructed to. Pac dodged, easily, they’d practiced the routine many times, to the point where the movement had become muscle memory. In turn Pac lunged for Fit, and Fit caught his blade with his own, a loud thwack rang out as the doors to the ballroom slammed open. Both Fit and Pac froze, and all the kingsguard drew their swords. Several men walked inside, holding swords. Fit turned his gaze from the men to his guards, and nodded, before turning his gaze to Pac. 

“Stay back, don't get hurt,” he whispered.

“I’ll be fine,”

“Don’t fight, and that is an order from your King,”

Fit held his sword high and began to strike at a man, out of his peripheral vision he saw Pac directing the crowd into a corner, hopefully into safety, before grabbing his own sword and joining the fight, disregarding exactly what Fit said. Fit had disarmed the man he was currently fighting, and the man had reported to fist fighting, and as a result Fit took a punch to the gut. He was slightly disoriented, there weren’t many attackers, far less than the kingsguard, so he wondered why they had chosen to attack, especially on a day when the kingsguard would be on high alert. Fit gained his footing once more, and charged forwards, plunging his sword into the chest of the man in front of him. Blood coated the sword, and the floor of the ballroom. Fit sliced through many soldiers, swinging his sword from left to right to left again, he was a seasoned warrior, he’d fought wars, Cellbit may be the King of peace, but Fit was the King of War.

He heard cries of women, children and men from behind him, he may be the King of War, and the Brutal King, but he did have a heart, and he wasn’t going to let innocent lives die. He heard the calls of Cellbit and Bagi, escorting people out of the ballroom via an unguarded exit, beside him stood Etoiles and Bad. The two kingsguard that he had known the longest, he had trusted them both with his life, and had the moments to prove it. They pushed back against the enemy, Fit saw the splatter of crimson stain the floors, and heard the battle cries of many men, yet the enemy seemed little, as if their attempt was bound to fail. Etoiles stabbed through the heart of the last man and Fit nodded, he turned around to see Pac and Mike, swords drawn, not yet sheathed again. Pac had a cut across his cheek, actively bleeding, it wasn’t deep, far from it, but it still caused Fit to frown. Fit walked over to him.

“I told you to leave,”

“Yet I stayed,”

“And thou art wounded sore”

“And I helped,”

“We could have borne your absence”

“Could you?”

“Yes,”

“Inasmuch as it is evident that I am responsible for the present state of being whereof ten of your retainers doth remain, their lives hanging by the slenderest of threads, as it were at the point of unsheathed swords,”

“Look as much as I am enjoying this argument, because I really am,” Mike smirked, “You two have a party to calm down,”

“Shit,” Pac cursed, “Do we just end the party?”

“No, I would be we can’t,” Fit admitted, “We shall hence convey it to the secondary ballroom, more viands await in the kitchens below, unsullied by sanguineous taint, we shall recommence our duel, and engage in our customary festivities in accordance with the time-honoured traditions of Favela,”

“Understood,” Pac said. 

“Pacey, we should return to Bagi she’s going to be pissed off with you,”

“Why?”

“For that thou art bleeding… and thy blood might soil thy raiment,”

“Shit,”

“Return to Bagi, and could you send some servants in, namely Luzu, Quackity, Slime, Tubbo, Pierre, Kameto and Rivers,”

“Verily, my heart yearns to know these individuals, but alas, even half their names escape my grasp. It is befitting that Tubbo should remain at my side, or perchance, my kin, as he fulfils the honourable role of groomsman,”

“Verily, I shall dispatch Etoiles to retrieve those individuals, and verily Tubbo shall remain in your presence. I find it most curious as to why thou holdest such great affection for him,”

“He’s nice,” Pac defended. 

“Pac let’s go,” Mike urged. 

“Etoiles,” Fit called.

“Your majesty,” the man bowed.

“How great are the numbers of those who are wounded? And with what grievousness?”

“Not many, five at the most,”

“Etoiles, you are injured, aren’t you?”

“I got stabbed, it’s only a minor injury,”

“Hark thee, Niki, haste to dress the wounds, and summon forthwith a multitude of servants to remove the sanguine humour that stains this chamber.”

“Yes your highness,”

Chapter Text

Wheezing was all he could hear, his own wheezing. He couldn’t hear the sound of swords clashing together, nor the battle cries of men, he could only hear his own breathing, his own shallow breathing. He was scared, admittedly, because he was only supposed to be fighting Fit, his husband, not fifty men. He could barely breathe, and his heart pounded against the walls of his chest. He slid his sword between another man’s sword and body, he didn’t want to kill, but he would. He slit the man’s throat, a brutal death, but a necessary one. Mike was by his side, slicing men in half, Pac had no clue of when Mike became so good with a sword but he wasn’t going to stop to ask questions. 

Eventually after Fit had killed the last man, and Pac’s face had returned to its natural colour opposed to bright red as a corset is not the easiest thing to fight in. 

“I told you to leave,” Fit said, and Pac could hear the anger radiating off his voice.

“Yet I stayed,”

“And thou art wounded sore”

“And I helped,”

“We could have borne your absence”

“Could you?”

“Yes,”

“Inasmuch as it is evident that I am responsible for the present state of being whereof ten of your retainers doth remain, their lives hanging by the slenderest of threads, as it were at the point of unsheathed swords,”

“Look as much as I am enjoying this argument, because I really am,” Mike smirked, “You two have a party to calm down,”

“Shit,” Pac cursed, “Do we just end the party?”

“No, I would be we can’t,” Fit admitted, “We shall hence convey it to the secondary ballroom, more viands await in the kitchens below, unsullied by sanguineous taint, we shall recommence our duel, and engage in our customary festivities in accordance with the time-honoured traditions of Favela,”

“Understood,” Pac said. 

“Pacey, we should return to Bagi she’s going to be pissed off with you,”

“Why?”

“For that thou art bleeding… and thy blood might soil thy raiment,”

“Shit,”

“Return to Bagi, and could you send some servants in, namely Luzu, Quackity, Slime, Tubbo, Pierre, Kameto and Rivers,”

“Verily, my heart yearns to know these individuals, but alas, even half their names escape my grasp. It is befitting that Tubbo should remain at my side, or perchance, my kin, as he fulfils the honourable role of groomsman,”

“Verily, I shall dispatch Etoiles to retrieve those individuals, and verily Tubbo shall remain in your presence. I find it most curious as to why thou holdest such great affection for him,”

“He’s nice,” Pac defended. 

“Pac let’s go,” Mike urged. 

Pac walked into the secondary ballroom, beside Mike, the room was in silence, nobody uttered a word. All eyes turned to stare at him and Mike, who was covered in blood, Pac however was lucky and not covered in the red liquid. 

“Você está bem? Oh não, você está machucado, ok, hum…” Bagi panicked. (Are you okay? Oh no, you're hurt, okay, um…)

“Onde fica o Rei Fit?” Cellbit asked. (Where is King Fit?)

“Ele está a caminho, e Bagi, por favor, pare de se preocupar, estou bem,” Pac said. (He's on his way, and Bagi, please stop worrying, I'm fine,)

“Parece que você vai desmaiar,” Bagi deadpanned, “Mike, pegue uma cadeira,” (You look like you're going to faint, Mike grab a chair)

“Estou bem Bagi,” (I am fine Bagi,)

“Where is the King?” King Vegetta asked.

“Upon his journey, resolving matters of import with his wardens,”

“Are not yet then all the adversaries occis?” King Foolish asked.

“Nay, they are, but certain guardsmen have sustained injury, and being a king of great benevolence, His Majesty is attending to their well-being.”

“Good,” King Foolish smiled, “How are you doing?”

“I am well, a few scratches here and there, but well overall,” he smiled, before addressing the crowd, “Verily, since it has pleased our sovereign lord to vanquish their foes, we shall forthwith resume our martial exercises. Ere we proceed with other ancient customs, be it known to all present that they are held safe under our protection,”

Fit returned to the rooms shortly after, much to Pac’s relief. He had two clean swords, and handed one to Pac, with a grin. They both circled each other, crossing their legs as they shifted their weight from one foot to the next. Pac balanced the uneven weight of the sword in his hand, he glanced up, and struck, exactly where he had been instructed to. Fit dodged, easily, and returned the strike. they’d practiced the routine many times, to the point where the movement had become muscle memory. Their blades crashed and scraped against each other, the sound of metal screeching was no longer one of fear for their audience, but instead one of interest. Pac twisted, forcing Fit to hit his leg. Fit knew this, the audience gasped, but they heard metal, a confusing sound to the many who didn’t know he was an amputee. Whilst Fit’s sword was still by his leg, he turned his sword to Fit’s neck, forcing the man to the ground, until he was lying on his back, Pac knelt over the man, pretending to smile at his victory, but Fit grabbed his wrists and flipped their position, so Pac was laying on the ground, and Fit was looming over him. Claps and laughter rang out. 

Fit quickly pecked Pac’s lips, and helped him stand. He leant against Fit’s arms, his head spun, and he couldn’t see straight. He stumbled slightly, only to be supported by Fit.

“Are you okay?” Fit whispered.

“Sim,”

“Huh?”

“Yes, sorry, I’m fine, just lack of oxygen,”

“Lack of oxygen?”

“Corset,”

“Oh…”

“Can we sit for a bit?”

“Sure, go sit upon the throne, I’ll speak to Philza briefly,”

“Okay, thank you,”

Pac walked over to Fit’s throne, and sat upon it. He felt very out of place, and scanned the room with his eyes. It was very loud; everyone had returned to talking and being free to do what they liked. Mike and Cellbit were talking, and Pac smiled, he hoped they were getting along instead of being hostile, and they looked to be smiling. Bagi was sitting at a table with Tina, Tubbo and Felps. He couldn’t see Richas nor Ramon, something that panicked him a little until he heard giggling beside him. 

“Pai!” Richas whispered. 

“Richas, você não pode me chamar assim, as pessoas aqui sabem o que isso significa,” Pac hushed. (Richas, you can't call me that, people here know what that means,)

“Pai?” Ramon asked, “I thought he was your nephew,”

“Ramon, can you keep a secret? Even from your dad?” 

“Yes, I’m really good at keeping secrets, he doesn’t know about Sunny, and I know you do because Tubbo told me,”

“You know about Sunny?” 

“Yes!”

“Okay, so Richas is actually my son, and Cellbit’s son, and Mike’s son, and Bagi’s son, and Felps’ son,”

“You have four dads, that’s so cool!” Ramon gasped in awe.

“I have three dads, you’ve stolen one of them,”

“I wanted another dad, I didn’t want to break apart a family,”

“Hey, hey,” Pac calmed, “You haven’t broken apart my family, Richas you are still my son and you always will be, and Ramon you can be too, since technically you legally are now,”

“We can share a dad, we can be brothers,” Richas smiled.

“That’s so cool, you should stay in 2b2t for a bit,” 

“No,” Pac said.

“Why not Pai?”

“I told you not to call me that, people could hear, and because you need to return to Favela,”

“It’s boring there, all I do is go to lessons learning the stuff you’ve already taught me,”

“I know Richarlyson, but you must,”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not safe for you here, and nor is it for me,”

“Then why has Pai Cellbit let you?”

“Pai Cellbit didn’t have a choice,”

“But you are safe here King Pac,” Ramon said, “Why wouldn’t you be?”

“It’s complicated, and I don’t think I can say more,”

“My dad won’t hurt you if that’s what you are scared about,”

“No… not that I know he won’t,”

“Then what is it?”

“Things that ten-year-olds shouldn’t know,”

“I’m eight though, pai?” Richas said, incredibly confused.

“I know Richas,” Pac laughed, “But Ramon is ten,”

“So, I’m the older brother,”

“I suppose,”

“Não, Bobby is eleven,”

“Bobby?” Ramon asked.

“Pa Roier’s son,”

“Richas, Bobby will be your brother, he won’t be Ramon’s,” Pac explained.

“Oh…”

“It’s okay neném,” Pac laughed, “You didn’t know, now how about you and Ramon go join Pai Mike and Pai Cellbit, I’m sure you’ll lighten their conversation,”

“Okay,” Richas smiled, “Come on Ramon, I have to introduce to the King of Favela, my pai,”

The two little boys ran off, causing Pac to smile and zone out, so much that he didn’t notice Fit return, with a chalice of wine for him. Fit stood beside the throne, waiting for Pac to notice him, and well it took Pac a good five minutes before he did. 

“Oh Fit!” Pac exclaimed, “How long have thou stood in silence?”

“Five minutes…”

“I crave thy pardon, for my wits did wander of late.”

“It’s quite alright, I present thee with the finest vintage,”

“Thank you, I need it after today,”

“And yet there a more traditions to commence,”

“Yeah but dancing is one of the fun ones,”

“And the food?”

“People are eating as they please,”

“Well yes, but do you not want any?”

“I’m kind of-”

“I will remind you that you have to eat, pray take note that sustenance is available, and verily, viands native to the realm of Favela grace this board.”

“Okay fine, can I please go over to Bagi, I want to talk to them?”

“They can come to you,”

“I know, I know, but I don’t think they know,”

“When we go get food then you can go over to them and ask them to follow,”

“Okay,”

Fit and Pac walked to get some food, and Pac decided to get feijoada as his main, and some bem-casados for dessert, he would probably also have some of his wedding cake too. Fit picked up some food that Pac didn’t recognise, different kingdoms typically tended to stick to the foods native their kingdom so Pac hadn’t really seen much of the food in 2b2t. 

They walked past Bagi, and Pac gestured to her to follow, and then they walked past Mike, where he did the same, before they returned to the throne. Pac stood beside it, it was Fit’s throne, he could stand. 

“Aren’t you going to sit?” Fit asked.

“It’s your throne,”

“In that case then I order you to sit,”

Pac laughed as he sat down, his plate resting in his lap, Fit lent against the arm of the throne, they both turned their heads as Bagi and Mike began to walk up to them.

“You called?” Bagi asked as she curtsied.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” Pac smiled.

“Couldn’t you come over to us?” Mike asked.

“Nay, in truth, I know not wherefore, but I have been given charge that I am forbidden to...,”

“By my troth, that is but arrant nonsense! Wherefore, good Fit, doth thou propound such a specious assertion?” Mike said.

“I am uncertain, Philza, esteemed adviser of 2b2t, informed me that this is a longstanding custom, and I did not question his wisdom.”

“Anyway…” Bagi smiled, “How’s your breathing? Are you struggling?”

“I was after the sword fight, and well…”

“The kiss, yes I know,” 

“Are you feeling faint at all?”

“I was, but not currently,”

“Feast heartily, for it shall sustain us, and imbibe freely of water, for there remaineth the cutting of the nuptial cake and the engaging in dance.”

“Yes, that is all that is left of the traditions,” Fit said.

“You best get going,” Mike stated, “People are starting to talk,”

“What do you mean?” Fit asked.

“I prefer to refrain from speech, but if it be thy desire that I reveal my thoughts, I shall do so with discretion, lest the ears of Pac become privy to them.”

“Mikey, pray tell, wherefore hast thou withheld such vital tidings?”

“Because I don’t want to see you hurt,”

“You went from despising the idea of my marriage to seeming at peace with it to now finally actively aiding me with it, you’ve changed what happened?”

“My goddess showed me things,”

“Oh…”

“I wish I could say more,”

“I know… did she have anything for me to know?”

“Sim, I shall inform you before my departure tomorrow,”

The cake loomed over Pac, and Fit, and everyone in the room, it was incredibly tall and stood on top of a table. Pac’s shaky hand lifted the knife, everyone was staring at him, and he could feel their gazes on the back of his neck. Fit placed his hand over Pac’s, warmth covered his hand, and he looked up towards his husband. Together they held the knife, and moved it towards the bottom tier of the cake, before slicing it. Loud cheers rang out and the knife pierced the cake with ease. Pac felt a rush of relief fill his body, he wasn’t quite sure why cutting a cake had filled him with nerves, but it had so he was glad it was over. Pac had a plate of cake, as did Fit, and they handed them to each other, filling the room with laughter and coos, from the Favela Kingdom and other kingdoms confused. 

Many guests were served cake, from the various servants who weren’t currently cleaning the blood. The first dance would be Fit and Pac, then it would be Pac and Cellbit, then Pac and Bagi, then Pac and Mike, then Fit and Ramon, so he was excited to dance with Cellbit, as he could hopefully talk to the man, who’d been absent for the vast majority of the day. 

The loud tune of ‘There is no greater love’ by Amy Winehouse began to play, as Fit grabbed Pac’s hand and kissed it gently. Pac rested his arms behind Fit’s neck, and Fit placed his hands on Pac’s waist as the two began to sway softly to the gentle melody. When the line ‘You’re the sweetest thing that I’ve ever known’ was sung, Fit spun Pac under his arm, and Pac twirled gracefully, before they returned to swaying gently again. The music gradually came to an end. Fit’s hands held Pac’s face as he smiled, then Fit pushed his lips against Pac’s, Pac was not expecting to kiss him again, and was slightly thrown off but quickly adjusted by placing his hands on Fit’s back, and copying his movements, he would probably have to get used to warm, chapped lips, being pressed against his. Eventually Fit lifted off his lips, and Pac lent against him, faking laughter which was quickly reciprocated by Fit. 

Then a second song began to play ‘Como é grande o meu amor por você’ by Roberto Carlos. Cellbit walked out to the dancefloor, and took Pac’s hands from Fit. Cellbit smiled down at Pac, tears gracing his eyes. Cellbit held Pac’s hands as they began to sway and dance, at this point they were both crying, neither said a word to the other. Cellbit spun Pac multiple times and vice versa for a laugh.

“Eu sinto muito,” Cellbit whispered. (I’m so sorry)

“Eu também sou,” Pac whispered back. (I am too)

The party was over, everyone had left, servants still ran around the castle, either cleaning up the blood or cleaning up the party. Nobles and Kings still walked around the castle, if they were staying. Pac’s hand rested in Fit’s, the two walking around, saying goodbye to everyone before eventually retiring to their, now shared, bedroom. Ramon stood by their side. They walked Ramon back to his room before departing to their own.

“Goodnight Ramon,” Pac smiled.

“Goodnight Pac, goodnight dad,” 

“Night Ramon,”

Pac followed Fit to his room, he saw his old room, door cracked open ever so slightly. He knew his things had already been moved into Fit’s room. They passed several servants and nobles as they then entered Fit’s room. 

“Bathroom is through that door,” Fit said.

“I need your help first,”

“With what?”

“To wit, release from the constraints of my corset? Our discourse had presaged this very inquiry.”

“Oh right, um… what do I do?”

“Undo the lace that is knotted upon the back.”

“Sure,”

Pac took his blazer off, dropping it to the ground, and turned around so Fit could undo the tied laces. He felt air rush into his lungs as the corset loosened and eventually fell to the ground. 

“Thank you, I’ll go into the bathroom to change, do you know where the servants put my clothes?”

“In that drawer,”

Pac picked up the corset and blazer, and opened the drawer, where he took out his night garments, and walked into the bathroom, where he got changed, as he assumed Fit got changed in his room. He knocked on the door to confirm Fit was ready for his return, and waited until he received confirmation.

What Pac had not expected was for Fit to be shirtless. He knew a lot of people, who weren’t poor, did sleep shirtless as their castles or houses would be warm enough to ensure that they didn’t need to wear multiple layers, but he had never slept in the same bed as anyone, except Mike before. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah… just overwhelmed, today had been a lot,”

“That’s true, um… what side of the bed do you sleep on?”

“Typically, the left but I can sleep on the right if that’s easier for you,” Pac exclaimed.

“No, it’s fine I sleep on the right,”

“Okay, that’s perfect then…”

“Ere we retire, I bestir myself to acquaint thee with tomorrow's endeavors.

“Okay, go ahead,”

“We shall wake and have breakfast with your family and Ramon, they shall leave and we shall say our goodbyes, then we shall put on our wedding clothes again for our portrait, and that’ll take up most of the day,”

“Okay, sounds good to me, I’m going to take off my leg and go to sleep now,”

Pac began to unstrap his prosthetic, he could feel Fit’s gaze over him as he did so, but as soon as he finished the gaze was no longer present. The bed sank down as Fit sat on it, the mattress was soft, and sank a lot more than any Pac had used before, a symbol of comfort probably. 

He lay down, and Fit did too, Pac turned so his back faced Fit and he didn’t. He would have to get used to sleeping with another man but the first night of doing so would be awkward, he knew that. He felt the bed shift as Fit did the same, turning so his back was to Pac. 

He couldn’t fall asleep, he couldn’t, his mind was racing at a million miles an hour. The man next to him made it impossible to stop thinking. Why did Pac slightly enjoy their kisses? Why did Pac actually have fun during their fight and their dance? Why did Pac actually enjoy anything? He shouldn’t, his freedom was actively being taken away from him, except it was gone now. Until Fit died he wouldn’t be able to remarry, and Fit looked to be healthy and Pac couldn’t imagine him to die for a good fifty plus years.

Eventually, in the early hours of the morning, Pac drifted off to sleep, shifting slightly, as did Fit, until he ended up leaning his back against Fit’s chest, with Fit’s arms surrounding him, in a warm embrace, not that either of them knew yet. 

The morning arrives, and Pac’s eyes start to open, he felt warm, warmer than he had felt in a long time. He opened his eyes, and then immediately began to panic. He was wrapped in Fit’s arms, they were hugging, naturally in their sleep.

Chapter Text

Fit was exhausted, the fight was draining, thankfully he didn’t lose any soldiers. He still had to complete the rest of his wedding, and whilst he was already married and had a husband… again, he still had traditions to complete. 

Etoiles was limping slightly, which concerned Fit, he was stabbed, but the man was strong, and yet Fit still felt guilty, Etoiles had saved his life multiple times, saved him from injury and yet he couldn’t do the same for him. 

Several servants entire the room, their mouths agape with shock. Blood coated the room, not irreversible but hard work for them.

“I command thee to have this chamber made spotless ere the noontide morrow,” Fit stated.

“My gracious liege, we shall require additional servants to have it accomplished by that time.” Rivers spoke up.

“More servants shall be provided upon the conclusion of my nuptials, And that ballroom shall require ablution, albeit with less celerity,”

“Verily, Your Majesty, I shall hie to the storeroom of provisions and procure for us such implements as befit the removal of foulness, for the night that approaches promises to be one of great length.” 

When Fit walked into his second ballroom, his castle was huge, holding two clean swords. His eyes wandered the room until he spotted Pac, who was speaking to King Foolish. He handed the man a sword, and walked to the centre of the room. Pac followed him, and a crowd formed in a circle. 

They both circled each other, crossing their legs as they shifted their weight from one foot to the next. Pac twisted the sword in his hand, before striking, Fit dodged, easily, and returned the strike. They’d practiced the routine many times, to the point where the movement had become muscle memory. Their blades crashed and scraped against each other, the sound of metal screeching was no longer one of fear for their audience, but instead one of interest. Pac twisted, forcing Fit to hit his leg. Fit knew this, the audience gasped, but they heard metal, a confusing sound to the many who didn’t know he was an amputee. Whilst Fit’s sword was still by his leg, Pac turned his sword to Fit’s neck, forcing the man to the ground, until he was lying on his back, Pac knelt over the man, pretending to smile at his victory, but Fit grabbed his wrists and flipped their position, so Pac was laying on the ground, and Fit was looming over him. Claps and laughter rang out. 

Fit quickly pecked Pac’s lips, and helped him stand. Pac leant against Fit’s arms, stumbling slightly, which concerned Fit, he had spoken of difficulty breathing due to the corset, and whilst Fit was clueless when it came to corsets, he did listen. 

“Are you okay?” Fit whispered.

“Sim,”

“Huh?”

“Yes, sorry, I’m fine, just lack of oxygen,”

“Lack of oxygen?”

“Corset,”

“Oh…”

“Can we sit for a bit?”

“Sure, go sit upon the throne, I’ll speak to Philza briefly,”

“Okay, thank you,”

Fit walked over to Philza, who was currently speaking to Cellbit, somebody that Fit did not want to speak to but oh well, he was a King and had to do things he didn’t like sometimes.

“Philza, have you got any investigators working on it?”

“No, but I can see if my crows know anything?”

“That, fair Etoiles doth presently have his wounds tended by fair Niki, but after duly inform him to inspect the weapons and armour of the trespassers,”

“You don’t who invaded your castle?” Cellbit asked.

“Nay, we were engaged in dispatching them.”

“I can proffer the services of Bagi: she’s very intelligent, and shall succeed in resolving the issue,”

“Wherefore seekest thou to proffer that? Shar'st thou not enmity towards my liege?” Philza asked.

“I do hold him in disfavor, yet my brother has taken residence, I desire his safety, blessings upon him”

“That’s fair…” Fit stated, “How would Princess Bagi aid us?”

“She’d investigate the armour, cross reference it with any records either of our kingdoms have, then she’d speak with some spies that we hold in different kingdoms, to see if any hits were made for your kingdom, and more,”

“Spies? Do you hold any in 2b2t?” Philza asked.

“Yes,”

“What?” Fit gasped.

“Spies from lands afar have lurked within your castle walls since before my blessed arrival into this earthly realm and your most hallowed coronation.”

“And yet thou persisteth in their employ” 

“Nay, they are not burdened with responsibilities, but rather free to lead their own existences, to engage in gainful employment and receive just compensation therefore. However, upon the rare occasion when I have a need of certain knowledge, I make inquiry of them, and they provide the requested information. For this service, they are adequately remunerated.”

“So, they aren’t active… but passive,”

“Exactly,”

“We’ll take Bagi’s assistance,”

“Okay, in that case Philza she’ll communicate via your crows,”

“Deal,”

“You best return to your husband,” Cellbit spat.

“Thy discourse upon thy solicitude for his well-being jars with thine subsequent conduct, wherein thou dost evince hostility and shun his presence throughout the day… I wonder why?” Philza laughed.

“I wonder why indeed,” Cellbit said sarcastically.

Fit grabbed two chalices of wine, and walked up to Pac. Cellbit had gone to speak to Mike, and Philza had gone to speak to Tubbo, for some reason, he didn’t know why so many people were so fond of the boy. He walked up beside Pac, but Pac didn’t seem to acknowledge him. Fit just watched as Pac stared at Ramon and Richas with a smile, it sort of forced Fit to take in some of Pac’s features, like his brown eyes and how they glistened in the low light of the ballroom, or his pale complexion which contrasted with his black hair. 

“Oh Fit!” Pac exclaimed, “How long have thou stood in silence?”

Fit was immediately pulled from his thoughts, and answered Pac’s question with an answer that was probably incorrect. 

“Five minutes…”

“I crave thy pardon, for my wits did wander of late.”

“It’s quite alright, I present thee with the finest vintage,”

“Thank you, I need it after today,”

“And yet there a more traditions to commence,”

“Yeah but dancing is one of the fun ones,”

“And the food?”

“People are eating as they please,”

“Well yes, but do you not want any?”

“I’m kind of-”

“I will remind you that you have to eat, pray take note that sustenance is available, and verily, viands native to the realm of Favela grace this board.”

“Okay fine, can I please go over to Bagi, I want to talk to them?”

“They can come to you,”

“I know, I know, but I don’t think they know,”

“When we go get food then you can go over to them and ask them to follow,”

“Okay,”

Many traditions continued to commence, such as cutting the cake, and giving Pac the first slice, and Pac giving him the other first slice. Next up was their first dance, followed by all of Pac’s dances with his family, followed by Ramon and Fit dancing together, then the entire guest list would be able to dance. 

The loud tune of ‘There is no greater love’ by Amy Winehouse began to play, as Fit grabbed Pac’s hand and kissed it gently. Pac rested his arms behind Fit’s neck, and Fit placed his hands on Pac’s waist as the two began to sway softly to the gentle melody. When the line ‘You’re the sweetest thing that I’ve ever known’ was sung, Fit spun Pac under his arm, and Pac twirled gracefully, before they returned to swaying gently again. The music gradually came to an end. Fit’s hands held Pac’s face as he smiled, then Fit pushed his lips against Pac’s, Pac quickly adjusted by placing his hands on Fit’s back, and copying his movements,  Fit was going to have to get used to kissing someone who he didn’t love, he knew they’d have to show affection for each other, and unlike his previous marriage, he had no feelings for the other man. Soft lips against his, it wasn’t the worst feeling, admittedly Fit enjoyed it slightly, he shouldn’t but he did. Eventually Fit lifted off his lips, and Pac lent against him, Fit heard Pac begin to laugh, and so he copied the man, hoping he didn’t sound too obvious in his false laughter. 

Pac had his dances with his family, he mainly just laughed and jumped up and down with Bagi and Mike, but his dance with Cellbit was beautiful, Fit could see both of them cry, and he knew why, whilst the people thought it was of happiness, Fit knew it was of sorrow. 

‘My Girl’ by the Temptations began to play, and Ramon immediately grabbed Fit’s hand, knowing it was their song together, the boy had chosen it himself. Fit held onto Ramon’s hands, as they bounced around together, a wide grin formed on Fit’s face, watching his son enjoy himself. He spun Ramon, over and over again, enjoying the sound of a child’s laughter, and he could tell the people of his kingdom and others were too. Eventually the song came to an end, and Fit lifted Ramon into his arms, hugging his son. 

“I love you so very much,” Fit whispered. 

“I love you too dad,”

The party continued, many people were dancing, many people were drunk and many people were enjoying themselves. Pac currently sat on Fit’s throne, and Fit perched on the arm, one by one many nobles came up to them presenting gifts that neither of them would look at twice, they were kings, nobody could get them a gift of any value, well except their actual family. Ramon walked up to them, with a grin on his face. In one of his hands he held a bracelet, with a thin silver thread and blue gems decorating it, and in his other hand he held a red and gold box, something that Fit found himself curious at seeing. 

“I made you a bracelet King Pac,” he smiled, “And King Fit I made you a jewellery box to hold your new rings in,” 

“Oh, Ramon that is so thoughtful,” Pac exclaimed, “You are so kind,”

“My boy, my kind, considerate, baby boy made in heaven above,” Fit laughed, “It’s perfect,”

“I hope you like them,” 

“Like them? No, we love them,” Pac grinned, “Thank you,”

“Next,” Philza called.

“It’s Ramon-” Fit protested.

“The three minutes are up,” Philza stated.

“Fine…”

“Ramon you go join Richas,” Pac whispered, “I bet he had a lot to tell you about Favela, and it’ll help with your project,”

Ramon ran along to join Richas, who was currently speaking with Mike and Felps. Fit watched as the line in front of them only seemed to be endless. Next up were some nobles from a minor kingdom ran by Purgatory. They held a small box in their hands, and looked towards the kings with a smile.

“Your majesties,” they bowed.

“Rise,” Fit stated.

“We present thee with a gift of sweet scent, crafted within our humble realm.” the man said.

“Thank you kindly,” Pac smiled.

“It’ll make you smell nicer for each other, and perhaps encourage further times together,” the woman said. 

“What are you insinuating?” Fit asked.

“Well… you know… what a married couple do on their wedding night,” the woman stumbled over her words.

“I pray thee to hold thy tongues regarding matters that concern mine own privy life. Such matters are between myself and mine husband, and are no concern of the realm. I beseech thee to keep thy counsel, and refrain from meddling in affairs that lie beyond thy ken.”

“I do apologise for my wife-”

“Philza, we are done here,” Fit stated.

“You have a large line of people still yet to go, are you sure?” 

“Yes, do not make me say again, any gifts that people wish to give us can be handed to a servant or placed on a table in the corner of the ballroom,”

“As you wish my liege,”

Philza sent the line of people away, many grumbling in disappointment at not being able to speak to their new kings, but they could blame it on those snobby nobles. Pac sighed and leant back into the throne. 

“Thank you,” he said.

“Tis no concern, it makes you uncomfortable… as it makes me, know this: the festivities shall but tarry ere their end, save thou crave their cessation forthwith”

“I get the choice?”

“Thou hast endured many disquieting remarks this day, fair gentlewoman, and I should not marvel if thou wert taken aback.”

“I’ve had a lot more comments than just uncomfortable ones,”

“What do you mean?”

“Threats on my life, speaking of sex, saying I’m not good enough for you… to name a few,”

“What?”

“Sim, uh, yes, sorry,”

“It’s okay, but what?”

“Wherefore, I being with the King Foolish, certain nobles did within my hearing utter certain reflections, to my face, he did with all his power defend mine honour.”

“People need to learn to watch their tongues,”

“I thought you believed in freedom of speech,”

"Verily, I have waged battle against a despot who held it in disdain. Notwithstanding, the freedom of utterance is not without its bounds, and when it bringeth discomfort upon others, its exercise should be restrained,”

“How long was the war?”

“About five years,”

“And thou didst become King at twenty?”

“Yes, why?”

“Didst thou wage combat at the tender age of fifteen?”

“Nobody checked birth certificates,”

“I would’ve only just joined the royal family at that point,”

“What?”

“When you were fifteen I was eleven, I joined the royal family at ten,”

“Oh… wow,”

The party was over, everyone had left, servants still ran around the castle, either cleaning up the blood or cleaning up the party. Nobles and Kings still walked around the castle, if they were staying. Pac’s hand rested in Fit’s, the two walking around, saying goodbye to everyone before eventually retiring to their, now shared, bedroom. Ramon stood by their side. They walked Ramon back to his room before departing to their own.

“Goodnight Ramon,” Pac smiled.

“Goodnight Pac, goodnight dad,” 

“Night Ramon,”

Fit led Pac to his room their room. It was shared now, once again. Pac’s old room had been cleaned out, his stuff moved into Fit’s, into a draw that he had cleared. Fit felt bad for Pac for a multitude of reasons, one of which being sharing a bed with a man you don’t love is awkward, another being Fit often had late nights and would probably wake Pac whilst trying to get to sleep himself.

“Bathroom is through that door,” Fit said.

“I need your help first,”

“With what?”

“To wit, release from the constraints of my corset? Our discourse had presaged this very inquiry.”

“Oh right, um… what do I do?”

“Undo the lace that is knotted upon the back.”

“Sure,”

Pac took his blazer off, dropping it to the ground, and turned around so Fit could undo the tied laces. Fit sucked in a breath, he didn’t want to fuck this up, he’d never even touched a corset before, his mother couldn’t afford one, and he’d never had a wife, or a sister… and well men in his kingdom didn’t typically wear them. 

“Thank you, I’ll go into the bathroom to change, do you know where the servants put my clothes?”

“In that drawer,”

Pac picked up the corset and blazer, and opened the drawer, where he took out his night garments, and walked into the bathroom. Fit began to get ready for bed himself, putting on his undergarments, and taking off the many daggers that were hidden in his clothes.

“Is everything alright?” Fit asked, concerned.

“Yeah… just overwhelmed, today had been a lot,”

“That’s true, um… what side of the bed do you sleep on?”

“Typically, the left but I can sleep on the right if that’s easier for you,” Pac exclaimed.

“No, it’s fine I sleep on the right,”

“Okay, that’s perfect then…”

“Ere we retire, I bestir myself to acquaint thee with tomorrow's endeavors.

“Okay, go ahead,”

“We shall wake and have breakfast with your family and Ramon, they shall leave and we shall say our goodbyes, then we shall put on our wedding clothes again for our portrait, and that’ll take up most of the day,”

“Okay, sounds good to me, I’m going to take off my leg and go to sleep now,”

Pac began to unstrap his prosthetic, and Fit watched, he didn’t typically take his own prosthetic off, so it was intriguing to see somebody else do so. He then began to take his own off, it would be weird if he didn’t and Pac did. The bed sank down as he sat down, he rested his arm against his bedside table and lay down. 

Fit lay down, and Pac did too, Pac turned so his back faced Fit and he didn’t, so Fit quickly followed suit and copied him. He would have to get used to sleeping with another man but the first night of doing so would be awkward, he knew that. 

He couldn’t fall asleep, he couldn’t, his mind was racing at a million miles an hour. The man next to him made it impossible to stop thinking. Why did Fit enjoy their kisses? Why did Fit feel comfortable calling another man his husband? Especially after last time? Why did he feel protective over Pac when the nobles made him uncomfortable? And why did his heart melt when he saw Ramon interact with Pac? He didn’t know, he couldn’t figure it out, he didn’t like or love Pac, they were… not even friends… colleagues wouldn’t describe it, perhaps the only word that could be used was roommates.

Eventually in the early hours of the morning both Fit and Pac drifted off to sleep, the moon was high, star shining, and eventually throughout the slow hours, that dragged on, their bodies shifted closer and closer together, until Pac’s back rested against Fit’s chest, and Fit’s flesh arm hung over Pac’s shoulder, as if they were embracing each other.

Fit woke up with a jolt, as the sound of a thump came from Pac’s side of the bed, Pac was no longer in it, instead he was lying on the floor. 

“Pac are you okay?” Fit asked.

“Sim, sim, você pode me ajudar a levantar?” he answered. (Yes, yes, can you help me get up?)

“I have no clue as to what you are saying,” 

“Sorry, um… could you help me up please?”

“Oh shit, you aren’t wearing your prosthetic are you,”

“No, now could you help?”

“Yes, yes, sorry,”

Fit stood up, and walked to the other side of the bed, using his arm as something for Pac’s to grip onto so he could lift himself back up onto the bed. Fit handed him his prosthetic, before going to put his own on. 

“What happened? Why did you fall off the bed?” Fit asked, concerned.

“No reason…”

“Pac?”

“No reason, okay, there was no reason,”

“Okay… I don’t believe you but I won’t push,”

“What time is it?”

“Around five in the morning,”

“Really?”

“Yeah, breakfast will be in about two hours,”

“Okay, I’m going to shower, if that’s okay,”

“Go ahead,” 

Chapter Text

Eventually in the early hours of the morning both Fit and Pac drifted off to sleep, the moon was high, stars shining, and eventually throughout the slow hours, that dragged on, their bodies shifted closer and closer together, until Pac’s back rested against Fit’s chest, and Fit’s flesh arm hung over Pac’s shoulder, as if they were embracing each other.

Pac shifted awake, eyes opening slowly, as his chest filled with dread. He was laying against Fit’s chest, with Fit’s arm draped over him. He immediately pushed himself away from Fit with as much force as possible, he really did not want to be close to the man, but in doing so he accidentally pushed himself off the bed, and woke Fit up too.

“Pac are you okay?” Fit asked.

“Sim, sim, você pode me ajudar a levantar?” he answered, mind foggy from slumber. (Yes, yes, can you help me get up?)

“I have no clue as to what you are saying,” 

“Sorry, um… could you help me up please?”

“Oh shit, you aren’t wearing your prosthetic are you,”

“No, now could you help?”

“Yes, yes, sorry,”

Fit stood up, and Pac watched as Fit walked over to him, before letting him grab onto his arm, to eventually sit back on the bed, which the fall from wasn’t pleasant, he couldn’t do that again, not only was it embarrassing as fuck, he couldn’t look stupid. 

“What happened? Why did you fall off the bed?” Fit asked.

“No reason…”

“Pac?”

“No reason, okay, there was no reason,”

“Okay… I don’t believe you but I won’t push,”

“What time is it?”

“Around five in the morning,”

“Really?”

“Yeah, breakfast will be in about two hours,”

“Okay, I’m going to shower, if that’s okay,”

“Go ahead,” 

Pac had a quick shower and got changed, into a simpler outfit than yesterday, no corset this time, thank the gods. He walked back into the main bedroom from the en suite, Fit was changed wearing some kingly robes, as he typically did. Pac rolled his eyes, he didn’t enjoy the formality of being in 2b2t, back in Favela he could be himself, but here he couldn’t, he had to be formal, and that was not something that Pac enjoyed. 

He sat down on their shared bed, Fit had straightened the pillows and made the bed while Pac had showered. Fit was currently sitting at his desk writing something, Pac wasn’t quite sure what. 

“Art thou ready for thy morning repast?” Fit asked.

“Yes, am I sufficiently attired?”

“Yes, forthwith shall I conclude this missive, and thereafter we shall have respite of nigh upon half an hour ere we must needs attend the morning repast,”

“At what hour doth my family depart?”

“Upon the conclusion of the morning repast,”

“Okay, I do need to speak with Mike privately though,”

“Why?”

“He hath a tale to share, regarding the goddess of creation,”

“Goddess of creation?”

“Yea, Mine, she be his patron goddess, and forsooth she hath knowledge for me”

“Forsooth, I am but ill-acquainted with the deities, I counsel that thou goest and speakest to him forthwith.”

“Thank you, I’ll see you at breakfast,”

Pac walked through the endless halls, desperately trying to navigate his way towards Mike’s room. On the way he had to stop and ask some servants to point him the correct direction, he’d never been to the guest part of the castle before, some servants hid their laughter, and mockery of Pac, not that he minded, people could talk about him behind his back, they were behind him for a reason. He was a King, through marriage sure, but he was also a prince, not through blood, but because he was a good person, because his mother, the queen adopted him, technically. 

Pac was born to a woman, as many were, she gave him to the orphanage, because she had no other option, and when he met the queen, many noticed their similar features, he knew a secret that had died on his mother’s lips, died on the King’s lips, and were sealed within his. 

He knocked on the door, harshly, three times, Mike called back, in English, as if expecting the servants or royalty of 2b2t to be so harsh when addressing him. 

“Mikey, você disse que precisávamos conversar,” (Mikey, you said we needed to talk,)

“Sim, nós fazemos, venha sentar, você vai querer,” (Yes, we do, come sit, you'll want to,)

Pac sat on Mike’s bed, and he sat beside him, leaning his head on Pac’s shoulder, whispering something in a language Pac didn’t understand, probably to his goddess, he had heard them communicate in dead languages that nobody spoke, and Mike couldn’t unless he was speaking to his goddess. Mike sat up straight and sighed.

“Sinto muito, sinto muito por não poder te salvar, mas Mine disse que era um evento fixo, algo que nem mesmo os deuses poderiam mudar,” (I'm sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't save you, but Mine said it was a fixed event, something not even the gods could change,)

“Por que meu casamento seria um evento fixo?” (Why would my marriage be a fixed event?)

“Sinto muito, mas não posso te dizer,” (I'm sorry, but I can't tell you,)

“Então você sabe?” (So, you know?)

“Sim, Pac… Sinto muito,” (Yes, Pac… I'm sorry,)

“Você age como se eu fosse morrer, é por isso que não pode me contar?” (You act like I'm going to die, is that why you can't tell me?)

“NÃO, não, você não vai ter uma morte prematura,” (NO, no, you will not have a premature death)

“Mikey, está tudo bem…” (Mikey, it’s okay…)

“Não, não, eu prometo, não estou mentindo,” (No, no, I promise, I'm not lying,)

“Ok, eu acredito em você,” (Okay, I believe you,)

”Ela me disse para te dizer que você acabará encontrando o amor,” (She told me to tell you that you’ll find love eventually,)

“Ele morre?” (He dies?)

“Ela não me contou mais nada, apenas que você acabará encontrando o amor,” (She didn't tell me anything else, just that you will eventually find love,)

“Eu também sinto muito, sinto muito por ter te deixado, eu quebrei minha promessa,” (I'm sorry too, I'm sorry for leaving you, I broke my promise,)

“Fizemos essa promessa quando você tinha dez anos e eu tinha oito,” (We made that promise when you were ten and I was eight,)

“Eu sei, mas mesmo assim eu quebrei…” (I know, but I still broke it…)

“Pac, me escute, você não quebrou nada, se alguma coisa os deuses fizeram, e você sabe o quanto eu odeio culpar os deuses pelas coisas,” (Pac, listen to me, you didn't break anything, if anything the gods did, and you know how much I hate blaming the gods for things,)

“Estou com medo…” Pac admitted, resting his head in Mike’s lap, laying down. (I am scared)

“De quê?” (Of what?)

“Não sei quando te verei novamente,” (I don't know when I'll see you again,)

“O casamento de Cellbit,” (Cellbit’s wedding)

“E depois disso?” (And after that?)

“Não sei…” (I don’t know…)

“Exatamente,” (Exactly)

“Como foi dividir a cama com ele?” (What was it like sharing a bed with him?)

“Acordei com os braços dele em volta de mim” (I woke up with his arms around me)

“Você o abraçou?” (Did you hug him?)

“Sim…” Pac admitted, “E quando acordei, surtei e caí da cama,” (And when I woke up, I freaked out and fell out of bed,)

“Você caiu da cama,” Mike laughed.

“E acordei ele… e então ele quis saber por que eu caí, e eu não contei a ele,” (And I woke him up… and then he wanted to know why I fell, and I didn't tell him,)

“Você tem que ser honesto com ele,” Mike’s expression turned cold. (You have to be honest with him)

“Por que?” (Why)

“Ele é seu marido,” (He’s your husband)

“Eu não o amo,” (I don’t love him,)

“Ele é o Rei do 2b2t e pode executar você” (He is the King of 2b2t and can execute you)

“Deveríamos ir tomar café da manhã agora,” (We should go have breakfast now)

“Pac Tazer, você não pode simplesmente ignorar isso” (Pac Tazer, you can't just ignore this)

“Esse não é mais meu sobrenome,” (That’s not my surname anymore)

Breakfast had a lot of people in attendance, from many different kingdoms. The Kingdom of Fools, containing Vegetta, Foolish, Roier and Leonarda, were all there, the Kingdom of Purgatory, containing King Aldo, and Prince Seapeekay, the Kingdom of Favela, were all in attendance, but the Kingdom of the Federation had left a while ago. 

Pac walked inside with Mike, everyone was already seated, his eyes drifted to Cellbit, sat beside Roier, hand in hand, he smiled at his brother before taking his seat, next to his husband. Pac didn’t actually know whether Roier knew if his marriage was a fraud, he knew that King Foolish didn’t. 

“My most gracious lords and ladies, all present, are hereby invited to partake in a sumptuous repast, preparatory to their arduous and extended sojourns to their respective sovereign domains.” Fit announced.

“Thank you,” Aldo smiled, “We from the Kingdom of Purgatory wish you both the best in married life,”

“As do We, We bid thee welcome to thy married life, my friend.” Foolish smiled. 

“I proffer a libation to the most sovereign King Fit and his consort, the most noble Prince Pac” Roier smiled, “To their marriage, may it be long and prosperous,”

Everyone lifted their glasses, and laughed. Pac’s eyes drifted to Mike’s, who simply smiled at him, he wondered what else Mine had shown him. He watched as Bagi and Tina laughed together, real laughter full of love, he watched as Cellbit reached for Roier’s hand, faking a smile to his fiancé. Mike no longer felt horrible about his marriage, but Cellbit did, and the next time he would see them would be in a month, at their wedding, by then the spring would’ve ended and summer would’ve commenced. 

“Are you okay?” Ramon whispered into Pac’s ear.

“Sim, I’m okay,” Pac whispered back, “How are you?”

“Good but you seem anxious,”

“Don’t worry about it,”

“ the presence of such exalted personages fills me with unease, for their tongues utter words with a formality that is both peculiar and unsettling.”

“Wouldst thoust inquire my humble opinion?”

“Okay,”

“Thy sire and thou dost converse with greater formality than any other of the royal persons of my acquaintance”

“What?”

“Verily, in the realms of Favela, I would not don the mantle of formality in my discourse with Richas or Cellbit, but rather employ a tongue of ease and familiarity. Whence, I now find myself grappling with the constraints of this courtly etiquette,”

“You are very good at it, superior to that of the majority of servants or tutors I have employed.”

“My gratitude for the compliment, but I have diligently pursued tuition to refine this skill in every tongue I am conversant in,”

“Could you teach me to speak Portuguese please?”

“Sure,”

“Really?”

“Sim, why not?”

“Sim… yes, isn’t it?”

“Yes, very well you are doing good,” Pac laughed.

“Next time I meet Richarlyson I want to be able to impress him,”

“I have no doubt your presence has already captivated his affections; the Portuguese tongue is unessential to your efforts to inspire awe in his heart,”

“I still want to learn,”

“Okay, then, we’ll find the time,”

Breakfast had ended, and every King, Queen, Prince, Princess, Duke, Duchess, Lord, Lady, etc. had left, all except the Kingdom of Favela. Richas had gone missing, nobody knew where he was, not Cellbit, not Pac, not Fit. He was gone. Bagi was crying, imagining the worst.

“Para onde ele foi?” she sobbed (Where did he go?)

“I don’t know…” Pac admitted, “But he’ll turn up,” 

“He could not have departed the castle unseen, for the guards would have espied him.” Fit stated. 

“Precisamos ir embora, eu realmente não consigo lidar com isso agora,” Cellbit complained. (We need to leave, I really can't deal with this right now,)

“Não podemos partir sem ele,” Bagi said. (We can’t leave without him)

“Sim, podemos, Pac está aqui, ele é o pai de Richas, tanto quanto nós,” Mike commented. (Yes we can, Pac is here, he is Richas' father, as much as we are,)

“Pac, você poderia fazer isso?” Cellbit asked, “Ele poderia ficar aqui até meu casamento?” (Pac, could you do that? Could he stay here until my wedding?)

“Eu não me importaria, mas é o castelo e o reino de Fit, pergunte a ele,” Pac answered. (I wouldn't mind, but it's Fit's castle and kingdom, ask him,)

“Fit?” Cellbit asked.

“Yeah?”

“Verily, it is of the utmost necessity that we depart forthwith. If thy words hold truth and he could not have exited this castle, then may he abide here until the day of mine espousal? At that time, he shall return to his abode in Favela,”

“Would it not beseem his sire to tarry?”

“He must return with us, but Pac is his uncle, shall bear surety for his misbehaviour.”

“I suppose, Philza will send a crow once we find him,”

“Thank you, Mike, Bagi, Felps, we are leaving now,”

Pac had been searching for Richas for a while, when he stumbled on Ramon, holding two plates of food. The sight caused him curiosity, so he stopped Ramon in his tracks. 

“Ramon, do you know where Richas is?”

“No,”

“Are you lying?”

“Yes…”

“Take me to him,”

“No,”

“Ramon-”

“You’ll send him away,”

“My family have already left, he’s staying until Cellbit’s wedding, now I need to see my son please,”

At that moment Fit turned the corner, Pac hadn’t noticed him yet, but Ramon did, looking up to spot his father, who had a look of shock on his face.

“Son?” Fit asked.

“Oh… shit, um hi Fit,” Pac stumbled over his words.

“Is Richarlyson your son?”

“No… he’s my nephew,”

“Pac,”

“Okay, yes, he’s my son, but we technically didn’t lie to you,”

“How?”

“He’s my son, but he’s also Felps’ son, and Mike’s and Cellbit’s and Bagi’s, so technically he is my nephew as he is my brother’s son too,”

“How did I not know about this?”

“Nobody does, it’s Favela’s best kept secret,”

“But Ramon knows?”

“Richas told him, by accident, he called me Pai in front of him,”

“Ramon, you will take us to where Richarlyson is right now,”

“No, you’ll kick him out, or yell at him,”

“Young man this is not up for debate,”

“Fine…” Ramon grumbled.

Ramon led them through the castle, behind paintings, which Pac had no clue led to hidden passageways, and behind bookshelves, until they reached what appeared to be a secret library. Richas was sat inside, reading a book, kicking his legs. 

“Richarylson,” Pac said sternly.

“Pai?”

“COMO VOCÊ OUSA SE ESCONDER DE NÓS,” (HOW DARE YOU HIDE FROM US)

“Eu não queria ir embora…” (I didn’t want to leave…)

“SUA MÃE ESTAVA CHORANDO POR VOCÊ, SEUS OUTROS PAIS E EU ESTÁVAMOS MUITO PREOCUPADOS, ACHAMOS QUE ALGO TERRÍVEL TINHA ACONTECIDO, EU DISSE PARA VOCÊ VOLTAR PARA A FAVELA POR UM MOTIVO,” (YOUR MOTHER WAS CRYING FOR YOU, YOUR OTHER PARENTS AND I WERE VERY WORRIED, WE THOUGHT SOMETHING TERRIBLE HAD HAPPENED, I TOLD YOU TO GO BACK TO FAVELA FOR A REASON,)

“Sinto muito, pai,” Richas sniffled, starting to cry. (I’m sorry, pai)

“Pac, I think that’s enough,” Fit said.

“Don’t tell me how to parent my kid,” Pac snapped.

“Ramon, I want you to take Richas, go find Niki, get some ice cream or something then go find your tutor,”

“Okay dad, come on Richas,”

Ramon grabbed Richas’ hand and the two slowly walked out of the room, both Fit and Pac were angry, Fit was frustrated, they’d spent two hours searching for Richas instead of having their portrait painted, whereas Pac was angry at Richas, he wanted to protect his son, not keep him around to be in a foreign kingdom, somewhere where he wasn’t guaranteed to be safe. 

“You yelled at him a lot,” Fit stated.

“At least I care,” Pac spat.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I was there when Ramon said you didn’t pay attention to him, I was there when he begged me to be the father you aren’t,”

“Don’t bring Ramon into this,” Fit threatened.

“Why not? He hid my son, they are both at fault,”

“You yelled at your kid, I won’t have you yell at mine,”

“I won’t, that is your job, something you clearly won’t do as his tutor is the one to parent him,”

“It is in your best interest to shut up,”

“Why are you so mad about me yelling at my kid? He’s not your son,”

“Because I don’t want it to happen to Ramon,”

“Well, it won’t, I won’t try to parent him, I never have,”

“We’ll see,”

“Our marriage is made of lies, so even though legally I am Ramon’s father, he will never be my son, and even though legally you are Richas’ father, he will never be your son, don’t judge the way I parent, and I won’t judge the way you don’t parent,”

“You have a lot of nerve,”

“And?”

“You were a foreign prince; the only status you hold in 2b2t is because of me-”

“So, divorce me… oh wait you can’t because you put it in the contract that we can’t, oh too bad you thought it would benefit you but it came back to bite you in the arse,”

“I’m leaving, go find Tubbo or some other low life to take your frustrations out on,”

“Low life? Is that what you think of your staff?”

“Some of them, yes,”

“Wow, your pathetic, I hope you know that,”

“And you are too trusting, too naive and maybe I’m the brutal King, but I’m not cruel enough to yell at a child, I have a heart,”

Chapter Text

Memories rushed into Fit’s mind. The yelling. The angry faces. The lies. The fear in his eyes, the fear in Ramon’s. His chest tightened as the yelling continued, he couldn’t understand the words, but he didn’t need to. Somebody was yelling at a child. In front of Ramon. He wouldn’t stand for it. He blinked a few times, returning from his haze. 

“Sinto muito, pai,” Richas sniffled, starting to cry. (I’m sorry, pai)

“Pac, I think that’s enough,” Fit said.

“Don’t tell me how to parent my kid,” Pac snapped.

“Ramon, I want you to take Richas, go find Niki, get some ice cream or something then go find your tutor,”

“Okay dad, come on Richas,”

Pac looked at Fit like Fit had accused him of treason, or threatened to take his head. He wanted to have a civil conversation with the man, but he doubted that would be the case. Pac looked pissed, not at Richas, he never looked pissed at Richas, why did Fit fear for Richas, on his behalf, Pac wasn’t angry at Richas, he wasn’t even angry, he was scared, why was Fit so stupid? But right now, Pac was angry, angry at Fit, and quite rightfully so, he didn’t know why Fit had said what he did, Fit couldn’t even understand what he had said. 

“You yelled at him a lot,” Fit stated, he’d rather get their argument over and done with.

“At least I care,” Pac spat.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I was there when Ramon said you didn’t pay attention to him, I was there when he begged me to be the father you aren’t,”

“Don’t bring Ramon into this,” Fit threatened.

“Why not? He hid my son, they are both at fault,”

“You yelled at your kid, I won’t have you yell at mine,”

“I won’t, that is your job, something you clearly won’t do as his tutor is the one to parent him,”

“It is in your best interest to shut up,”

“Why are you so mad about me yelling at my kid? He’s not your son,”

“Because I don’t want it to happen to Ramon,”

“Well, it won’t, I won’t try to parent him, I never have,”

“We’ll see,”

“Our marriage is made of lies, so even though legally I am Ramon’s father, he will never be my son, and even though legally you are Richas’ father, he will never be your son, don’t judge the way I parent, and I won’t judge the way you don’t parent,”

“You have a lot of nerve,”

“And?”

“You were a foreign prince; the only status you hold in 2b2t is because of me-”

“So, divorce me… oh wait you can’t because you put it in the contract that we can’t, oh too bad you thought it would benefit you but it came back to bite you in the arse,”

“I’m leaving, go find Tubbo or some other low life to take your frustrations out on,”

“Low life? Is that what you think of your staff?”

“Some of them, yes,”

“Wow, your pathetic, I hope you know that,”

“And you are too trusting, too naive and maybe I’m the brutal King, but I’m not cruel enough to yell at a child,”

Fit stormed off, he couldn’t deal with Pac anymore, he was expecting an argument not insults on his parenting, which were entirely valid, so it hurt more. He’d have to have a portrait with the very same man later, and sleep in the same bed as him, and he didn’t know if he was ready for that yet. 

He went to find Ramon and Richas, who were sat in the infirmary with Niki, and her daughter Empanada, there was also another child there too but Fit didn’t recognise her, but as soon as he entered the room, and looked away from her, she disappeared, as if she was an illusion of the mind. 

Ramon and Richas were sitting on a bed, kicking their legs, eating ice cream and laughing, a sound that made his heart swell. At least Richas can still be happy after being yelled at. 

“Hey boys, are you okay?”

“Sim,” Richas smiled.

“Niki got us special ice cream!” Ramon said.

“Are you sure Richarylson?” 

“He was just worried… please don’t be mad at him,” 

“I’m not mad at him nor am I mad at you,” Fit lied.

“Dad is it-”

“Ramon,” Fit warned, “Not right now, I need some time to think before we bring that up,”

“Okay, sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault sweetheart,” Niki said. 

“Niki is right, none of this is either of your faults, although you two are little rascals for hiding, when King Cellbit, Princess Bagi and Prince Mike all needed to leave,”

“Sorry,” Richas mumbled, “I didn’t want to leave,”

“Where is your tutor Ramon?” 

“He’s on holiday, did you forget?”

“Shit, yeah, I forgot, um… who’s your tutor whilst he’s away?”

“Bad,”

“Okay, how about you two go see Bad for a short lesson or something productive, I have to speak to Niki and Philza,”

“Okay dad,” Ramon smiled, grabbing Richas’ hand. 

The two boys ran off, and both Fit and Niki sat down, facing each other. Fit’s heart was still racing, he hadn’t calmed down, and it was something that he was concerned about. He had been on multiple anxiety medications that Niki had both prescribed and concocted for him, but he needed more. 

“I require additional medicines for the mitigation of distress.”

“I gave you more last week,”

“'Twas a fortnight of angst”

“You shouldn’t be having so many, for they are detrimental to thy well-being.”

“Anxiety is an affliction neither natural nor conducive to well-being.”

“Anxiety is natural,”

“Not for a King,”

“Verily, for a sovereign monarch, the governance of a realm is a burden most weighty, and the weight thereof may well provoke trepidation in the royal heart.,”

“Please Niki,”

“Henceforth, I shall fashion additional preparations, yet thou must needs moderate the dispensation thereof.,”

“Thank you,”

Fit had changed back into his wedding outfit, cape and all. Currently he was waiting with the artist for Pac, and admittedly he knew that it would take the man longer than him, he did have a corset to get into, but this was getting ridiculous, he’d been waiting for at least half an hour. His throne stood there, in the ballroom, which had been cleaned thoroughly overnight, he hoped that his servants were resting. He didn’t really think of them as lower than him, he cared for him, but he had to pretend that he didn’t or else he’d be manipulated. 

Pac rushed inside, his breathing was fast and shallow, Tubbo walked in behind him, carrying his crown, and blazer, which he hadn’t put on yet. Fit rolled his eyes, and watched as Pac slid the blazer over his shoulders and Tubbo placed the crown on his head. 

“Tubbo you are dismissed,” Fit said.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Tubbo bowed before turning and leaving. 

Fit waited for Pac to take his place on the throne, the silver throne had arrived but hadn’t been placed in the room yet, it probably would be later that night. Fit sat on the arm of the throne; it was far from comfortable but he was glad that Pac wasn’t forced to endure the subtle pain. Fit shifted his metal arm so it was behind Pac, and he saw the man he sat slightly beneath him lean into it, just as he had done the day prior. They both forced smiles to shine on their faces. Pac smiled with his teeth, as if he were laughing, whereas Fit didn’t, his lips remained sealed, but still cracked a small smile. 

They watched as the artist stroked with his paintbrush, shaded with his pencil and blended with his finger. The colours on the canvas blended together from the cerulean raiment entwining Pac's torso like the celestial firmament, while the vermilion mantle upon Fit's shoulders flowed with noble grace. Their faces were painted with joy, despite their inner feelings, their inner conflicts. They looked to be in love, the artist was truly talented, painting an emotion that simply did not exist. 

Fit felt Pac shift slightly, they’d been sitting for a while, about an hour at this point, and servants would be arriving shortly to give them drinks and food, as they would likely be sat there over dinner. 

“King Fit, could you wrap your metal arm around his waist?”

“Uh… sure,”

Fit moved his metal arm from behind Pac, to wrap around his waist, dragging it under his blazer, resting against the side of Pac’s corset. They were close, so close that Fit could hear every shallow breath that Pac’s compressed chest took, and he was sure that Pac could hear his too. His breaths were shaky as if he were nervous and Fit couldn’t blame him. They had recently had an argument, and now were having to act as if they were in love in front of an artist. 

After several hours, many servants rushed inside, holding plates of food for the royal couple and the artist. 

“Let’s take a break,” the artist smiled.

“Yes, thank you, I’m sure it looks amazing so far,” Fit smiled.

Fit stood up, and received a plate from a servant, who he didn’t recognise, they must be a new hire, Philza should’ve told him.

“What’s your name?” he asked. 

“Um…”

“You have a name do you not?”

“Walter Bob,”

“Fetch Etoiles,” Fit commanded Tubbo, who immediately rushed off.

He recognised the name immediately, he was a spy, Fit didn’t know which kingdom he was from, but his name was well known, Fit was surprised that he hadn’t even tried to deceive him, he was supposed to be a good spy. 

“WALTER BOB!” Pac squealed, “How are you?”

“I’m good your highness,” he bowed. 

“Oh, none of that, you’re a friend,” 

“Mayhap thou couldst bestow upon me an explication of this auspicious occasion?” Fit asked.

“This is Walter Bob, he’s a friend,”

“He’s a Favela spy?”

“What? How do you know?” Pac asked.

“Verily, doth every realm within this hallowed tapestry of sovereignty hold cognizance of the illustrious appellation of Walter Bob, whose status as a clandestine agent is universally acknowledged. Yet, it eludes our mortal ken to ascertain the ultimate allegiance he professes.,”

“What are you doing here?” Pac asked, “I apprehended thou wert spying upon the Federation,”

“I am a putative...” Walter Bob admitted. 

“How comes thou art not?”

“His Majesty Cucurucho, found me”

“How?”

“Know, my liege, that I bear tidings of great import for your ears and those of the esteemed King Cellbit. However, the delicacy of the matter necessitates a private audience, absent the prying eyes and ears of the court.”

“I understand,”

“Nay, if there be vital information I should perchance be apprised of, should I not?” Fit said.

“Of course, your included, your Pac’s husband, just as Roier is included too,”

“It is my belief that we should engage in discourse, in which only thyself, myself, and Cellbit should be present.” Pac said.

“Why?”

“I’ll explain later, but um… Richas is here if you want to see him,”

“Why is he still here?”

“The rascal absconded, concealing himself to evade his obligation to depart.”

“Of course he did,” he laughed. 

Etoiles arrived, in a full set or armour, opposed to his resting set, he must’ve been training, and yes he had multiple sets of armour, he took his job seriously. He had his sword drawn as he appeared by Fit’s side.

“My Liege, what doth thou require of thy loyal subject?”

“Forsooth, I am of a wavering disposition regarding his intentions. Doth he bear malice towards us?”

“Não, não,” Pac said. 

“Pac…”

“No, fear not, for he poses no imminent peril.”

“Okay, then Etoiles, I am not in need of your assistance,”

“Alright then,”

“Good Master Walter Bob, do thou make thy residence within the castle keep this night?” Pac asked.

“Nay, I must forthwith journey to Favela, but I shall behold thee anon,”

“Okay,”

Their painting was complete, at the late hour of two in the morning, everyone in the room was exhausted, from the Kings, to the artist, to the guards who were trained for long hours. The artist smiled as presented his work to his kings, praying that they liked it. 

It captured Pac’s smile perfectly, it captured Fit’s brown eyes perfectly, and it was an impressive work of art, they would be getting the same artist to draw their family portrait too, but Fit didn’t know whether Richas would be included or not, considering he wasn’t even supposed to know that Richas was Pac’s son. 

Pac was resting against Fit’s side, Fit’s arm wrapped around him. Fit turned him and quickly kissed him, he could tell Pac wasn’t expecting it, he felt Pac tense before immediately, trying to relax into it, key word being trying. Fit pulled away, thanked the artist and began to walk back towards his chambers, alongside Pac. 

Once inside, Fit helped Pac take off his corset, again, and hopefully for the last time, undoing it was difficult, before Pac ran into the bathroom to get changed. Fit also got changed, into his nightly garments. 

The setting sun’s rays shone through the windows of Fit’s chambers, creating the image of a holy place, from Fit’s chamber, just as Pac walked back into the room. 

“Did you have to kiss me?” Pac complained.

“Yes,” Fit rolled his eyes, “I didn’t want to, believe me,”

“Then why did you? You’re the King, nobody can force you to do anything,”

“You can, technically,”

“What?”

“The King consort, while a lesser role than king, still has power, above everybody else, and with the King’s love,”

“So, I’m supposed to manipulate you with love,”

“Manipulate is not the word I’d use, but yes,”

Pac sat on the bed, and began to unstrap his prosthetic, he placed it down, laying it against the bedside table, and hopefully it wouldn’t roll away again, although Pac falling off the bed probably caused it to roll away.

“Why did you fall off the bed this morning?” Fit asked.

“I told you-”

“No, you said it didn’t matter,”

“I got scared…”

“Of what? Sharing a bed?” Fit laughed.

“No, um…”

“What was it?”

“We were hugging…”

“What?”

“Yeah, your arm was wrapped around me, I was lent against your chest, okay, I freaked out,”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Nay, for it was wondrous strange, and I was seized with a great fear.,”

“Okay… that makes sense,”

“I’m sorry…”

“For what?”

“Not telling you,”

“I do accept thy statement of comprehension, and I should esteem an apology for addressing Richarlyson in so raised a tone.,”

“I shall not be prone to prevarication, the concept of remorse doth not stir me, and I profoundly doubt that such a notion shall ever grace my consciousness.,”

“Oh…”

“You don’t even know what I was saying, why does it affect you so much?”

“Ramon’s father yelled at him… and me… a lot,”

“Oh…”

“The words didn’t matter, I just remember the way it affected Ramon, so I vowed to not yell at a child ever again, regardless of the situation,”

“Do you want to know what I said?”

“Um… yeah,”

“I told him that we were scared, that Bagi was crying and that we thought something terrible had happened,”

“You sounded so angry,”

“Oh, Richas has heard me yell so much more, and I’m the parent who yells the least,”

“Your family yells at him a lot?”

“Oh no, not at him, he’s very well behaved…normally… it’s typically at each other or snobby nobles or people who make each other uncomfortable,”

“You really care don’t you?”

“Sim, he’s my whole world, Mike and I even made his leg,”

“Leg?”

“He’s got a prosthetic just like me, it’s why we adopted him,”

“That’s really cool, but you made it?”

“Yeah, and my own, who makes yours?”

“Tubbo…”

“He’s good at technology, we’ve had many conversations about it,”

“Yeah he is,”

“Did you mean what you said earlier?”

“What did I say?”

“That you believed your servants were low lives,”

“Alas, I am compelled to feign comprehension afore foreign realms, even as I do so for the members of my court and the esteemed subjects of my sovereign domain.,”

“Why?”

“In the annals of yore, when the realm of 2b2t bore a countenance less hospitable, the aged monarch, a veritable tyrant, succumbed to my hand. Under his oppressive sway, the kingdom lay vulnerable, yet a modicum of respite was afforded by his treatment of those within his inner circle. The harsh tyranny he inflicted upon them sowed discord and instilled a sense of dread in the minds of potential invaders, who pondered the fate that might befall them should they dare to challenge his authority. Thus, we wielded cruelty as a defensive bulwark against invasion.”

“How many bellicose conflicts have graced thine reign?” 

“I, and this was when I slew the King,”

“Apart from that?”

“None,”

“Wherefore art thou styled the savage sovereign, and Cellbit the monarch of amity?”

“I don’t know,”

“Oh…”

“And you, how many wars have you fought in,”

“One war, but far too many battles,”

“What ended the war?”

“The death of the King,”

Chapter Text

When Pac woke up, he sighed. Yet again he was wrapped up in Fit’s arms, this time the metal one still being on, which confused Pac, did it not hurt to sleep in a prosthetic? His hurt, and he knew Richas’ hurt too, so why was Fit wearing his to sleep in. As much as Pac would hate to admit it, he leant into the warmth radiating off Fit, leaning into their hug. Fit wasn’t awake to notice. 

“Getting comfortable there darlin’?” Fit teased.

Pac froze, fuck, Fit was awake, and he had noticed. How could he get out of this situation? He genuinely had no clue, he was screwed, he couldn’t pretend to be asleep, as it was quite clear that he was awake. He was just going to have to joke about it. 

“Good morning,” he squeaked. 

“You alright there?” Fit laughed.

“Yeah, I’m fine, you?”

“Well, I have a certain someone leaning against my chest, making himself comfortable,”

“Good for him,” Pac chuckled.

“Whilst I’d love to continue this, I actually have things to do today,”

“Wow denying your husband of comfort,”

“I can assure you; my chest is not the most comfortable thing in this castle,”

“No, this bed is, it’s so nice,”

“Did you not have comfortable beds in Favela?”

“Of course we did, but this is next level,”

“Alright then, can you move? We have to get breakfast with Ramon and Richarlyson, before I had to do actual work,”

“Yeah, yeah sure,”

Pac shuffled off of Fit, embarrassment still gracing his cheeks in a pink flush. He lent over the side of the bed to collect his prosthetic, whilst Fit got changed in the bathroom. He returned in more casual clothes than Pac had ever seen him wear. 

Together they walked through the castle, to the dining room, where both Ramon and Richas were, they were both already eating, and laughing with each other. 

“Pai, the food here is so nice,” Richas smiled.

“Sim, it’s nice, are you enjoying yourself neném?”

“Sim, I want food like this back home,”

“I’m sure you could learn,” Fit said, “My chefs would be happy to teach someone,”

“Could I? Pai, please?” 

“Sure… we’ll figure something out, you are here for a month,”

“A month?” Ramon asked, “He’s here for a whole month?”

“Sim, it’s a month till Cellbit’s wedding,”

“Do I have to wear another suit?” Richas complained.

“Sim, Richinhas, you have to wear a suit,”

“But they are itchy,”

“Oh, so you didn’t like my wedding did you?” Pac teased.

“You didn’t like your own wedding, you don’t love him,”

“You told him?” Fit asked.

“You told Ramon, and no I didn’t, he figured it out,”

“But I did like your wedding, it was very pretty, mãe Bagi did a good job,”

“Anyway, what are your plans for today?” Fit asked.

“Um… I kind of wanted to visit a town or something, I haven’t really seen 2b2t,”

“Oh okay, I’ll get Tubbo and Bad to accompany you, are you two going to join him?”

“No thanks dad, we want to play here,” Ramon smiled.

“Okay, that sounds good, stick around Niki or Philza though, I want you to be safe,”

“Why not Etoiles?” Ramon asked.

“He’s going to be with me,”

“What are you doing today?”

“Work,”

Pac was sitting in a carriage, Tubbo and Bad beside him, some random servant driving. They were discussing where to go, as Pac knew nothing of the Kingdom, and Bad had lived in 2b2t his whole life, and Tubbo had lived there for over a decade.

The road was bumpy, and the horses were fast. Pac was slightly self-conscious, in Favela he wouldn’t have gone in public in such a formal manner, he would’ve likely walked or ridden a horse, but Fit insisted on the carriage.

“Is there anything you particularly want to do?” Tubbo asked.

“Uh- Is there an orphanage in the village we are going to?” 

Yes, why?” Bad said.

“I’d like to go there,”

“Why?” Bad asked.

“I grew up in an orphanage, those kids need to know that they are loved,”

“That’s really sweet, of course we can go there,” Tubbo smiled, “Anywhere else?”

“Is there a market nearby? because if so then we’ll buy them food, food in orphanages isn’t the best,”

“Yes, we’ll go there first,”

The carriage stopped, they all climbed out, and walked through the village. Many people stared at them, but they kept walking. Several children came up to Pac with a wave, and despite Bad’s protests, he smiled and waved back. 

They eventually reached the market, and stopped at a fresh fruit stall. There were apples, tomatoes, raspberries, etc. 

“Your majesty,” the woman bowed, “How may I be of assistance?”

“How much for all the fruit you have?” 

“All?”

“Yes,”

“Um… around four hundred dollars,”

“King Pac, how much do you have?” Bad whispered.

“I had several reais turned into dollars when I first moved here, around two thousand dollars, so I have enough,” he whispered back. 

“Could you package it all up for us?” Tubbo asked.

“Yes, yes, I can,” the woman smiled.

“Then we’ll take it all,” Pac smiled, as he handed over five hundred dollars.

“It’s four hundred, not five,”

“I know,” 

“Thank you, thank you,” 

The woman packaged all the fruit up, with the help of some other workers and offered to take them to Pac’s carriage which he declined, as he wasn’t returning to his carriage with them.

“Tubbo, could you lead the way to the orphanage?”

“Sure,”

“Are these for them?” the woman asked.

“Yes,”

“Oh, we’ll help you carry them, that’s so kind,”

“It’s nothing much really, it’s the least I can do,”

They carried the fruit in paper bags, a whole group of them, Pac, Tubbo, Bad and a group of vendors who’d left their stalls to help the King consort, they clearly respected royalty, it wasn’t something that Pac had expected, because in Favela royalty weren’t treated special, they were normal people who just ran the country and had the same level as respect as anyone else.

Pac walked up to the reception lady, who blinked a few times upon looking at him, he just simply smiled. 

“Hello,” she said.

“Hello,” he smiled back, “We bought fresh fruit for all the children here,”

“Oh, my goodness, that’s so kind, I’ll call some workers to get that into the kitchen, thank you,”

“Is there any chance I could meet some of the kids?”

“Of course, but probably not with all these people,”

“Yes, yes of course, um… could one person come with me?”

“Sure,”

“Tubbo you stick with me,” 

They handed the fruit over to the workers, who were shocked with the sheer amount of fruit. Pac and Tubbo were then led through a series of corridors, which would’ve looked suspicious, if Pac hadn’t been to many orphanages before. The walls were a simple sort of dull yellow colour, the floors were hard wood, not really suitable for young kids, but many were like that. 

Pac and Tubbo were led to a room, which currently had ten children inside, they all looked around the ages of four to about six. They all turned as the door opened.

“Hello children,”

“Hi madam,” 

“This is the King consort,”

“Wow!” one of the children gasped.

“Hello,” he waved, kneeling down to their heights.

“Do you want a chair?” the worker asked.

“Oh no, don’t bother, I’ll get on their level,”

“What are you doing here you majesty?” one of the eldest asked.

“I came to visit you, is that okay?”

“Why would you want to visit us?” another child asked.

“Why not?”

“We are orphans, nobody loves us…”

“That’s not true,”

“Yes it is, our parents abandoned us,”

“Am I loved?” Pac asked them.

“Of course you are, you have siblings, you have a husband, the literal king, and the whole of 2b2t and Favela love you,” the first child said.

“Did you know that I’m adopted and used to be an orphan too?”

“What?” one of the youngest gasped.

“Yeah, I was adopted by the Queen of Favela when she met me for the first time, she also adopted my brother because I wouldn’t let him go,”

“That’s so cool,” another young kid said. 

“So… what are all your names?”

“I’m Hope,” a little girl smiled.

“Nice to meet you Hope,” Pac shook her hand, causing her to giggle.

“I’m Gegg,” one of the eldest boys said.

“I’m honoured,” Pac shook his hand too.

“My name is Nacho,”

“It’s lovely to meet you all,” Pac smiled, “Tubbo do you have any apples on you?”

“Yes, I have ten exactly,”

“Perfect, I’ve brought you all fruit,” 

“I don’t like apples,” Hope complained, “They are always brown and mushy,”

“These ones are red, and crisp, not mushy, will you try it for me?” Pac asked.

“Okay…”

Pac handed her an apple, and watched as she hesitantly took a bite. Tubbo walked around the room, handing all the other kids apples too. All the kids began to eat, marvelling at actually fresh apples. It broke Pac’s heart and reminded him of his childhood, something he had desperately tried to forget. 

A smile erupted on Hope’s face. She seemed to be enjoying the apple as she didn’t stop, bite after bite, practically inhaling the fruit, barely taking a break to even breathe. This caused both Pac and Tubbo to chuckle and smile at each other. Once she had finished her apple, she climbed into Pac’s lap and hugged him.

“Oh sweetheart-” one of the workers began walking over, preparing to take her away from the King.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Pac tightened his arms around her, “I don’t mind,”

“King Pac?” she asked, “Could I be loved one day too?”

Those seven words shattered Pac’s heart, stabbed it three times, stamped on it, and threw it off a cliff.

“You are already loved, each and every one of you, you love each other, the workers here love you and I do too,”

“Easy for you to say, you got adopted,” Nacho grumbled, “By a Queen as well,”

“I did, and that meant I got lucky, but did you know that I ran away from my orphanage, and went to prison?”

“What?” Gegg said. 

“Yeah, I stole to survive, my old orphanage didn’t get enough food so I ran away so I could actually eat something, and I will make sure none of you ever have to do that,”

“You stole?” Gegg laughed, “A King was a criminal,”

“Oh yes, but doesn’t that prove that people can change?”

“I suppose…” Nacho said. 

“The point of my story is even in the toughest situations you can make it out, and live well, I won’t let any of you have to survive the way I did,”

“Did you escape with your brother?” Gegg asked.

“Escape prison or escape the orphanage?” Pac asked.

“You escaped the prison?” Nacho gasped.

“Sim, I did, which wasn’t a good thing, I am not condoning my actions,” 

“You're really cool your majesty,” Hope giggled. 

“Thank you Hope, I think you are really cool too,”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you have managed to make friends in this orphanage, not all people could, that is an admirable trait,”

Fit and Pac sat opposite each other, Philza to Fit’s left and Tubbo to Pac’s left. Pac wasn’t quite sure why he needed to have a meeting; their marriage was settled and there was nothing he could do to escape it. He would be the King consort of 2b2t now, whether he liked it or not. 

“Wherefore am I here present? Is there an issue that requires my immediate attention?” Pac asked.

“No, no issue,” Philza reassured, “We just wanted to discuss your duties,”

“Duties are being bestowed upon thy humble self?”

“Verily, art thou king consort in truth.”

“Verily, I surmised through mine own cognitive faculties that by virtue of the matrimony having been meticulously orchestrated, I would be spared the burden of burdensome obligations.,”

“Do you not want any?” Fit asked.

“In all honesty, I hold no objection”

“Didn’t you give up the throne of Favela though?” Tubbo asked.

“'Tis a tale of intricacy, one that I would choose to keep shrouded in mystery, yet know that it was not due to want of my sovereign reign,”

“That’s beside the point,” Philza said, “Duties,”

“What ones?”

“Well…”

“Do you not know?” Pac laughed, “dost thou question my capacity to handle them?”

“The latter,” Philza deadpanned.

“I, aforetime sovereign of Favela's royal demesne, a realm surpassing this in its vastness, wielding influence and might surpassing that of 2b2t, for two years did bear the mantle of kingship. I shall prevail in this undertaking.”

“After the passing of but a mere twain of years, thou didst relinquish thine sovereignty. Was it due to duress that thou didst so?” Philza mocked.

“Philza, there is no need to be insulting,”

“Thank you, now what duties, if any, am I going to have?”

“We were contemplating, public appearances for us twain, you would plan,” Fit began, “And by thy grace, donations unto guilds of divers sorts shall be devised; and communications betwixt realms,”

“That sounds fair, okay,” Pac sighed.

“Good,” Philza said.

“Am I excused now?” Pac asked.

“I actually wanted to speak to you… privately,” Fit said, “The rest of you are dismissed,”

Pac followed Fit out into the gardens, where their two boys were playing, Bad supervising them. The castle gardens were made of many native and foreign plants, some from Favela, which Pac recognised, probably a gift between two old kings, or queens. 

The gardens were beautiful, a mix of greens, blues, purples and pinks. It reminded Pac of home, despite the 2b2t garden being smaller than the ones in Favela. Pac had spent a lot of time with Richas in the gardens, teaching him how to fight, and other things that Cellbit had removed from the prince’s education as he deemed it unnecessary. Pac however disagreed, Cellbit didn’t have the same education or upbringing that he did, he didn’t know what it was like to fight just to eat, Pac did, and he was going to make sure that worse comes to worst, Richas would be able to fight. 

The sun set slowly in 2b2t, yellow rays shifting into a soft orange and pretty pink. Pac stared at the sky, enraptured by its beauty. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Fit smiled, as he sat on the bench. 

“Sim- yes,”

“You don’t have to correct yourself; I’ve picked up what ‘sim’ means by now,”

“Oh… sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry either, I changed my mind remember, you can speak Portuguese,”

“Oh, right, why’d you want to talk privately?”

“Bad told me you visited an orphanage today,” 

“Yeah, we did,”

“Why?”

“I grew up in an orphanage… I thought I wasn’t loved, those kids deserve to feel loved, and if a prince or king lets them feel special, that just makes them have hope,”

“You did this whilst you were in Favela too, didn’t you?”

“Sim, there’s a little boy there, called Pepito, he’s so cute, and talks in third person,”

“Do you like being a parent?”

“Wouldn’t change it for the world, why?”

“Not everyone has the same answer as you…”

“I didn’t mean what I said… if Ramon wants me to be his father, I’m not totally against it, but it won’t exactly be easy for me,”

“Really?”

“If I’m mad at you, he shouldn’t be in the middle of that,”

“You were only scared yesterday, I shouldn’t’ve overreacted,”

“You didn’t overreaction, you have trauma, you explained that and your reasoning is just, but so is mine, hence why I won’t apologise,”

“I don’t have trauma-”

“Fit, respectfully you have fought in a war, and you had a husband plot your death, that’s traumatising and not even the sanest person could remain trauma free after that,”

“I suppose you're right…”

“I am right,”

“Our boys, being friends, I never expected Ramon to find someone to play with, who he’d actually enjoy being around,”

“He doesn’t like other children?”

“Other princes, we tried… Bad’s kid, Dapper is a friend but they rarely see each other,”

Chapter Text

Fit slowly woke, not opening his eyes yet, as he felt somebody beside him shuffle. Pac, right of course it was Pac, who else would it be? His arms were stretched over his body, and he felt Pac lean into him more. Fit opened his eyes, and saw a wide grin on Pac’s face. He thought there was probably no better time to tease Pac.

“Getting comfortable there darlin’?” Fit teased.

Pac froze in his arms, and Fit laughed. It was clear Pac was deciding on what to do, getting caught in an embarrassing act, considering only a day prior he had freaked out about being wrapped up in Fit’s arms. 

“Good morning,” he squeaked. 

“You alright there?” Fit laughed.

“Yeah, I’m fine, you?”

“Well, I have a certain someone leaning against my chest, making himself comfortable,”

“Good for him,” Pac chuckled.

“Whilst I’d love to continue this, I actually have things to do today,”

“Wow denying your husband of comfort,”

“I can assure you; my chest is not the most comfortable thing in this castle,”

“No, this bed is, it’s so nice,”

“Did you not have comfortable beds in Favela?”

“Of course we did, but this is next level,”

“Alright then, can you move? We have to get breakfast with Ramon and Richarlyson, before I had to do actual work,”

“Yeah, yeah sure,”

They both got up, changed into casual clothes, before walking to the dining room together, laughter echoed through the halls as Fit recognised the sound of Ramon’s giggles, causing a smile to appear on his face, at least his son was having fun. 

After breakfast had commenced, Fit walked into Niki’s office, she was making some potions and pills and many things the Fit wouldn’t understand if he tried. She hadn’t noticed him enter, completely enclosed in her own world, a world of potions which had varying colours. 

Fit knocked on the door, and cleared his throat, hoping Niki would notice him. She turned, her purple skirt twirling as she spun. She smiled upon seeing Fit, grabbed his arm and dragged him further into her office. 

“My liege, I bring thee thy medicines for thy affliction, but I have sought to improve upon their strength” she said excitedly. 

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. 

“Nay, thou art not to partake in overmuch, I was not well pleased with thy consumption thereof last sennight,”

“I’ll be fine Niki,”

“Has your ear ever received tidings of an overdose?”

“Yes-”

“Well, it’ll happen to you if you aren’t careful,”

“Lady Niki, I shall be well, for moderation is known to me.”

“I doth not believe thou knowest”

“Darest thou to question your King?”

“Yea, I so decree, for his well-being I hold dear.”

“Niki-”

“Fit-”

“Be it known that I shall conduct myself with the utmost caution, and to this I solemnly swear.”

“Most auspicious saviour of my very essence, while I do commend thee for thy valiant act in preserving my mortal form, I do not harbour any desire to be so indebted to thy humble self as to have to return the favor of saving thine own.”

“I know, I know, can I have them please?”

“Sure,”

“Thank you,”

Niki handed Fit a clear bottle, inside were white pills, with a marble pattern of purple streaks. They were small around the size of a pea and they filled the bottle about three quarters of the way, so there were around a month’s worth if he were to take them as a normal person should, and despite promising Niki he knew he probably couldn’t, being a King isn’t easy and is in fact very difficult and demanding.

Fit sat in his office, a place he was often present in, despite having been absent from it for about a week at this point. Philza’s monotone voice rang through his ears, he really couldn’t care less about funding a new road to be built, surely the money should go towards education over a road for the rich to drive on, as the poor didn’t even have carriages. 

“Noble Philza, with all due respect, I hold the condition of the thoroughfares in the utmost contempt.”

“Fit-”

“Verily, the educational institutions of this realm known as 2b2t stand in dire need of amelioration. While those of ample means may perchance endure the rigors of unpaved thoroughfares for a fleeting season, the welfare of our young charges must take precedence in our deliberations.”

“No plaint hath been heard of the system by which learning is dispersed,”

“Verily, no grievances have come forth, for the deficiency in learning among the people doth hinder their perception of the maladies that beset us,”

“I beseech thee to grant that the funds be directed toward the betterment of the realm's learning and scholarship.”

“Yea, Ramon doth receive education of good quality, wherefore should he receive education of a rank exceeding that of other younglings?”

“Forasmuch as he be a prince, thence him the gods have bestown,”

“I have committed regicide and by cunning guile, set Ramon upon the throne, whether by divine favour or otherwise,”

“Didst thou believe that my fealty had been thine, lacking the blessing of the deities?”

“Nay… yet could I have achieved it alone. Your support and assistance have aided in the governance of the realm, as have the contributions of others. However, the actual deeds of regicide and war I accomplished without your direct involvement,”

“By the grace of the Goddess Kristen, I abdicated my sovereign authority. This decree was rendered by her divine command, as is known to you. Now, once again at her behest, I vouchsafe my fealty to you.”

“To the gracious lady, I leave my thanks: other matters today require my favor and so I must take my leave that certain schools may secure their funding.”

“Yes my liege,” Philza bowed. 

His chest hurt, his heart beat too fast and he could barely see, his vision blurry as he shook violently. Fit’s pocket weighed him down, realistically he knew it couldn’t, all that was inside was the bottle of pills, nothing of any heavy mass and yet he could feel it constantly. He reached into his pocket, the bottle becoming a comforting weight in his hand. He sighed, mentally preparing himself, before he unscrewed the cap and poured two into his head. He shoved them into his mouth and yanked his head back as he swallowed them.

His heart rate slowed, his vision cleared and his shaking ceased. He took a few deep breaths, praying that nobody was present to see him like this, nobody should be out in the garden at this time. He deeply regretted that thought as soon as he heard the light tapping of feet beside him. He opened his eyes; he didn’t even know that he had closed them. 

“Dad?” Ramon asked.

“Yes, my boy?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine… anyway how are you two boys?” Fit forced a smile.

“Tudo bem,” Richas smiled. (All good)

“I’m sorry Richarlyson, I don’t know what that means,” 

“All good, we are good,”

“Ahhh, I’m glad, have you seen your father, or has he not returned from the village?”

“He returned about five minutes ago, I think he’s in your chambers, getting changed,”

“Thank you, where’s Etoiles, shouldn't he be with you?”

“Um…” Ramon stuttered.

“Ramon?” Fit raised an eyebrow.

“We distracted him and ran away,”

“Well done my boy,” Fit ruffled his hair, “Not many can distract Etoiles from a task,”

“Why do you want my Pai?” Richas asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Why’d you marry him? Neither of you love each other, and Pai Pac isn’t happy about it, or he wasn’t when he left Favela, so why?”

“That’s a difficult question… um…”

“It’s because we wanted some of Favela’s power,” Ramon admitted.

“Ramon-”

“No dad it’s fine, Richas could literally just ask King Pac or any other his other parents,” 

“I was advised to either marry someone from Favela or wage war against Favela, King Cellbit and Pac chose marriage, hence why we are married now,” Fit admitted.

“That’s stupid,” Richas complained, “Why can’t power be shared through friendship?”

“I don’t know… I wish that were the case,”

“Come on Richas, I want to show you the training area,” Ramon grinned.

“Find Etoiles first,” Fit commanded.

“Fine…” Ramon grumbled.

Fit and Pac sat opposite each other, Philza to Fit’s left and Tubbo to Pac’s left. Fit knew that this meeting wouldn’t go well, he could just sense it, although he didn’t know if he was being physic or just anxious 

“Wherefore am I here present? Is there an issue that requires my immediate attention?” Pac asked.

“No, no issue,” Philza reassured, “We just wanted to discuss your duties,”

“Duties are being bestowed upon thy humble self?”

“Verily, art thou king consort in truth.”

“Verily, I surmised through mine own cognitive faculties that by virtue of the matrimony having been meticulously orchestrated, I would be spared the burden of burdensome obligations.,”

“Do you not want any?” Fit asked, he wanted Pac to be comfortable in 2b2t, he didn’t want to stress him out.

“In all honesty, I hold no objection”

“Didn’t you give up the throne of Favela though?” Tubbo asked.

“'Tis a tale of intricacy, one that I would choose to keep shrouded in mystery, yet know that it was not due to want of my sovereign reign,”

“That’s beside the point,” Philza said, “Duties,”

“What ones?”

“Well…”

“Do you not know?” Pac laughed, “dost thou question my capacity to handle them?”

“The latter,” Philza deadpanned.

“I, aforetime sovereign of Favela's royal demesne, a realm surpassing this in its vastness, wielding influence and might surpassing that of 2b2t, for two years did bear the mantle of kingship. I shall prevail in this undertaking.”

“After the passing of but a mere twain of years, thou didst relinquish thine sovereignty. Was it due to duress that thou didst so?” Philza mocked.

“Philza, there is no need to be insulting,” Fit reprimanded.

“Thank you, now what duties, if any, am I going to have?”

“We were contemplating, public appearances for us twain, you would plan,” Fit began, “And by thy grace, donations unto guilds of divers sorts shall be devised; and communications betwixt realms,”

“That sounds fair, okay,” Pac sighed.

“Good,” Philza said.

“Am I excused now?” Pac asked.

“I actually wanted to speak to you… privately,” Fit said, “The rest of you are dismissed,”

Pac followed Fit out into the gardens, where their two boys were playing, Bad supervising them. The castle gardens were made of many native and foreign plants, something Fit had made sure of, to ensure visitors had a familiar feeling in his kingdom.

The sun set slowly in 2b2t, yellow rays shifting into a soft orange and pretty pink. Fit stared at the sky, enraptured by its beauty. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Fit smiled, as he sat on the bench. 

“Sim- yes,”

“You don’t have to correct yourself; I’ve picked up what ‘sim’ means by now,”

“Oh… sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry either, I changed my mind remember, you can speak Portuguese,”

“Oh, right, why’d you want to talk privately?”

“Bad told me you visited an orphanage today,” 

“Yeah, we did,”

“Why?”

“I grew up in an orphanage… I thought I wasn’t loved, those kids deserve to feel loved, and if a prince or king lets them feel special, that just makes them have hope,”

“You did this whilst you were in Favela too, didn’t you?”

“Sim, there’s a little boy there, called Pepito, he’s so cute, and talks in third person,”

“Do you like being a parent?”

“Wouldn’t change it for the world, why?”

“Not everyone has the same answer as you…”

“I didn’t mean what I said… if Ramon wants me to be his father, I’m not totally against it, but it won’t exactly be easy for me,”

“Really?”

“If I’m mad at you, he shouldn’t be in the middle of that,”

“You were only scared yesterday, I shouldn’t’ve overreacted,”

“You didn’t overreaction, you have trauma, you explained that and your reasoning is just, but so is mine, hence why I won’t apologise,”

“I don’t have trauma-”

“Fit, respectfully you have fought in a war, and you had a husband plot your death, that’s traumatising and not even the most sane person could remain trauma free after that,”

“I suppose you're right…”

“I am right,”

“Our boys, being friends, I never expected Ramon to find someone to play with, who he’d actually enjoy being around,”

“He doesn’t like other children?”

“Other princes, we tried… Bad’s kid Dapper is a friend but they rarely see each other,”

“Why?”

“Bad’s very protective over Dapper… he doesn’t visit the castle, Chayanne is Ramon’s friend too but Chayanne has duties too, and Tallulah too, I don’t really know what Ramon does half the time,”

“Because you're too busy?”

“Yeah, it makes me seem like a bad father doesn’t it?”

“No, I get it,”

“Do you?” 

“Sim, back in Favela, Cellbit could never spend any time with Richas, so he spent the majority of his time with me, hence why we are very close, but my siblings all had duties that I didn’t, I wasn’t a crown prince or king so I was free,”

“I’m sorry…

“What for?”

“I didn’t want to marry you; I didn’t want to take you away… I just didn’t have any other choice,”

“Why did you do it?”

“It’s complicated…”

“I’ll listen,”

“The throne of 2b2t has conditions, you can only be on the throne for ten years without a spouse,”

“What if they die of old age?”

“Then you lose your throne if you refuse to remarry, and it goes to your son or daughter,”

“And Ramon is too young…”

“I couldn’t do that to him,”

“If you had done so… would he only of had ten years,”

“Ten years from either when you turn eighteen or from your coronation,”

“Oh… why is that a rule?”

“It’s so that if one of us gets sick or is incapable of ruling for a period of time, there is somebody else there…”

“Why threaten war though?”

“Nobody would marry me otherwise, have you met me? Or heard of the rumours surrounding my name?” Fit laughed.

“I’m sure somebody would’ve loved you…”

“I guess we’ll never know,”

Fit waited for Pac to enter the bathroom, before taking the bottle of pills out of his pocket, he knew he had a few minutes before Pac finished changing and got ready for bed. He tipped his head back, popped the pill inside and swallowed. His Adam's apple bobbed as the pill fell down his throat. 

He heard the door squeak open as Pac walked back into the room, he watched as Pac’s eyes flicked to the pill bottle and then back to his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Pac asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’m fine…”

“You aren’t ill?”

“No… something Niki made me, don’t worry,”

“Okay…”

“I promise, it’s nothing bad,”

“I believe you, don’t worry,” Pac laughed, “Just don’t want you dying on me,”

“Why not? You could remarry, and get the throne of 2b2t,”

“I doubt I’ll meet the love of my life within the next ten years,”

“Why not?”

“I dunno,”

“Fair enough, also Richarlyson asked me why I married you today…”

“Oh shit, what did the rascal say?”

“He asked why I married you if neither of us love each other,”

“And what did you say?”

“Ramon told him that we wanted Favela’s power,”

“Which you did-”

“Well, a marriage between our two kingdoms would benefit both of us, we weren’t actually going to wage war if you said no, well actually I don’t know, it would’ve probably only been generals and the royal army, not civilians,”

“Oh… I still don't think we would've taken the chance even if we knew,”

“Ramon doesn’t know about the ten-year marriage thing, he’s hasn’t been taught it yet,”

“When will he learn about it?”

“On his eighteenth birthday,”

“Why so late?”

“He’ll feel guilty, I don’t want that,”

“It’s not his fault, it’s the rules of your kingdom, but what I don’t understand is that if you are King who’s preventing you from breaking the rules?”

“The priest, Philza, and the royal army, it’s their duty to dethrone me,”

“Seriously? That’s insane, what about aromantic princes?”

“There is expectations but I don’t qualify for any of them,”

“That’s so shitty,”

Chapter Text

Pac’s fourth day of marriage began as the previous days had, wrapped in Fit’s arms, and at this point he wasn’t going to complain anymore, it was probably just going to happen. Pac was worried though, he didn’t realise the King of 2b2t was on medication and he wouldn’t tell Pac what it was for. He’d have to ask Niki, if she’d even tell him, he didn’t know if she respected patient confidentiality. 

He felt Fit shift slightly behind him, informing him that the man was awake, so Pac turned around to face him with a smile. He was greeted in turn, with a smile back. 

“Morning,” Pac smiled.

“Good morning,”

“How did you sleep?”  

“Alright… you?”

“Sim, it was alright,”

“Well, I best get going, I have a lot to do today,”

“You do?”

“Being a King isn’t easy, surely you know that,”

“Of course, but it’s only around five in the morning, aren’t you having breakfast first, with Ramon and Richas?”

“I can’t, I have a lot to do,”

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“No, Philza will inform you whenever your duties are required but you can basically just relax until then,”

“I mean with your duties, is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, just look after our boys,”

“Okay… ugh why does everyone in 2b2t wake up so early,” Pac complained.

“What time do you wake up in Favela?”

“Like nine,”

“NINE?”

“Sim,”

“And what time would you go to bed?”

“Around two,”

“TWO?”

“Yeah… seven hours of sleep, same as here, it’s just difficult to get used to,”

“As much as I would love to stay and chat, I have to go,”

Fit quickly got changed and left Pac, sitting in their bed. Pac never expected to marry royalty, if you asked little five-year-old him, he still would’ve thought nobody loved him, he hadn’t even met Mike by that point, he was six when he met Mike, the first person he actually believed loved him, but at this point he’s not even sure anymore. 

Eventually he stopped moping around, and got changed himself. He had to have breakfast with Ramon and Richas, and he expected Ramon to be upset about Fit’s absence. 

My dearest journal,

I have sojourned within the realm of dois-b dois-t henceforth known as 2b2t for a considerable duration, and I have entered into the bonds of matrimony. This verily is an unwonted occurrence. I perceive a burgeoning amity betwixt us, and his raillery is not unwelcome to me. I cherish his son, and he did not blanch with horror upon learning that I too have a son. We have engaged in spirited debate, as is wont among wedded couples, but I believe these disputes are waning, and I trust they shall cease entirely.

Duties have been conferred upon me, which, though providing some small measure of occupation, prove to be tasks of a facile nature and not of a quotidian character. Verily, in this present moment, my desire is to deepen my acquaintance with Tubbo and Etoiles, wherefore I shall diligently strive to maintain their company. I am not persuaded that Philza holds me in high regard, albeit the cause of his disfavor remains concealed from me, notwithstanding his contrivance of my matrimony with Fit.

I am verily disquieted concerning Sir Fit, for he doth imbibe a potion of some kind, medicinal in nature, so I have been informed, albeit its purpose remains an enigma. He did impart unto me that the fair Mistress Niki prescribed it, and although I place trust in her after my sojourn in the infirmary, I cannot shake a lingering unease. Is this unwonted? Should I harbour concern for a man whose affections I do not share?

I extend joy to Richas, as he establisheth companionship with Ramon, yet anxiety doth consume me, yearneth for his return to Favela, lest his existence become one of monotony and destitution, nor desire I a fate for him akin to mine own, though trepidation seizes me lest he share a similar destiny. Nevertheless, I shall offer supplication, beseeching any deity who may heed my plea to protect him from such a fate.

Dearest Pac,

Pac searched the library, for a book on potions or on medications, Tubbo was sitting on one of the desks in the centre of the room, scanning through a book about herbs and plants, attempting to aid Pac, which he thought was sweet. Ramon had left breakfast crying, followed by Etoiles and Bad, who attempted to calm his mood, whereas Richas had stuck by his father’s side, hence why Pac currently had the eight-year-old in his arms, resting on his hip. 

“Found anything?” Pac asked.

“Pac, that while I would fain render thee aid, I am afflicted with a malady of the mind known as dyslexia,”

“You should’ve told me, I wouldn’t have asked you to help-”

“No, no, it’s okay, it’ll just take me slightly longer,”

“If you are sure?”

“I am, but no I haven’t found anything, how about you?”

“Nothing, a white pill with a purple marble pattern, I can’t find anything referring it,”

“Why are we even looking?”

“Um…”

“King Pac?”

“Please don’t use my title, Tubbo I beg of you, whatever you do, don’t use my title, if you must refer to me as a prince, not a king, please,”

“Alright, I’m sorry, I won’t refer to you as a king again,”

“We inquire for reason that...well I witnessed King Fit partaking of pills in the night, within our chamber, and am filled with concern. He imparted not his purpose for their consumption, and guided our discourse away from the subject,”

“Oh… you should’ve just asked, I know what the pills are now, although they have never had the purple marble streak before, perhaps Niki is making improvements,”

“What are they?”

“Anxiety medication,”

“King Fit gets anxious?” Richas asked.

“Sim, Richas todo mundo fica ansioso, até seu Pai Cellbit,” Pac smiled. (Yes, Richas everyone is anxious, even your Pai Cellbit)

“He’s been taking it for a while… but um… don’t bring it up…”

“I won’t but why?”

“The world isn’t kind to a King who struggles with anxiety… only few know of his medication and I doubt he wanted you to know,”

“And yet you tell me?”

“Because you are my friend,”

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes,” Tubbo grinned.

“Tubbo, would you mind watching Richas and Ramon for a few hours?”

“I’ll watch them, don’t worry, but um… why?”

“I wish to speak to Etoiles, about something,”

“Are you going to fight again, Pai?” Richas asked.

“Sim, your Pai Cellbit can’t stop me here,”

“I do not know where Ramon currently is though,” Tubbo admitted.

“I believe he is with Bad, in his chambers, so we’ll go there together, before I depart,”

“Okay then let’s go,” 

“Pai?” Richas asked.

“Sim?”

“Ramon está bem? Por que ele saiu do café da manhã chorando mais cedo?” (Is Ramon okay? Why did he leave breakfast crying earlier?)

“O rei não perde o café da manhã com o filho há anos, por isso estou preocupado com ele,” (The king hasn't missed breakfast with his son in years, hence why I'm worried about him)

“Eu pensei que você não o amava?” (I thought you didn’t love him?)

“Eu não,” (I don’t)

“Então por que você se importa?” (So why do you care?)

“Porque ele é uma pessoa, ele governa o país em que viverei pelo resto da minha vida, e ele é meu marido, independentemente do amor,” (Because he is a person, he rules the country I will live in for the rest of my life, and he is my husband, regardless of love)

Pac ducked. A sword swung over his head, he heard the blade cut through the air, just above his ears. He sprung back up, wielding his own sword, and stabbing it in the direction of Etoiles, who easily dodged the weapon. A loud clash rang out, as the metal met metal, and the swords slammed together. The two men held their swords, applying pressures, attempting to force the other to drop their sword. Pac’s arms shook under the pressure, but he refused to give up, giving up is what caused him to lose his leg in the first place. His breathing remained steady, just as he was training, not to falter. The swords screeched as they scratched against each other, causing both Etoiles and Pac to flinch slightly from the unpleasant noise. 

The hairs on the back of Pac’s neck stood up, somebody was watching them. He could tell Etoiles could see whoever it was, as his attention faltered slightly, causing Pac to have an open, a way to overpower him. Pac pushed his sword until Etoiles’ own blade hit his chest, before Pac shifted the weight he held against his sword to the side, forcing Etoiles’ blade out of his hand, and onto the floor. Etoiles backed up against a tree, Pac held him there, with a sword against his neck, until Etoiles yielded. Clapping sounded from behind him, causing Pac to turn, a mistake as Etoiles hadn’t actually yielded yet, he had held his hands up in defence but he hadn’t said a word. A swift kick landed against Pac’s back, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor, laughing as he fell. 

“Never turn your back on your enemy,” Etoiles laughed.

“And don’t get distracted enough so they can’t disarm you,” Pac teased as he lifted himself off the ground.

“Fair enough,” 

“Pac I require your presence,” Philza stated.

“Oh… uh, sure,” Pac stuttered.

“Get changed out of your armour, and into something more formal…” he spat.

“Okay I will… Etoiles, can you take my sword back to the training facilities?”

“Of course, your majesty,” Etoiles bowed as he took the sword.

“Make great haste your highness,” Philza remarked.

“What am I making haste for exactly?”

“The King,”

“Are you going to give me any more information?”

“Not until you look more like a King and less like a guard,”

“Rezo para que as divindades tenham misericórdia, caso contrário, posso tomar uma decisão precipitada.” Pac whispered (I pray that the deities have mercy, otherwise I may make a rash decision)

Pac followed Philza at a fast pace, the man seemed to be worried himself, but Pac didn’t know what he had to do with the situation, he didn’t even know what the situation was. They turned down hallways that Pac hadn’t even seen before, it made him realise just how little of the castle he’d actually explored. 

“Philza, slow down,” he complained. 

“We can’t,” Philza turned to face Pac.

“At least tell me what’s going on,”

“Fit, he’s being a stubborn arsehole, he’s refusing to talk to anybody, and he’s neglecting his health,”

“And where do I come into this?”

“You are his husband,”

“Who he doesn’t love,”

Philza put his hands on Pac’s shoulder, and in that moment Pac realised the fear in the man’s face, he looked genuinely terrified. 

“Thou art our solitary beacon of salvation; all others have endeavoured and foundered.”

“Even Ramon?”

“Save for Ramon, Fit forbade his presence being within his office,”
“Forasmuch as he witteth Ramon to be the singular wight who might move him to depart”

“Precisely, now let’s hope he cares for you more than he lets on,”

“I can guarantee that he doesn’t,”

“If thy endeavor bringeth forth naught, then thou art bereft of his company within thy bedchamber this night,”

“He’ll sleep in his office?”

“Nay, he shall not slumber, and to assume it shall be but this night is optimistic and most improbable,”

“Can we make a stop on our way?”

“Why?”

“I believe I possess a stratagem whereby I may persuade him to depart.”

“Guide us forward,”

“Pray tell, good Philza, having been cast adrift in this castle, I find myself utterly confounded as to its geography. Wouldst thou be so kind as to escort me to the kitchens within this castle's walls?”

“Sure…”

Philza and Pac turned around and began making their way towards the castle’s kitchens, which held many servants inside. Pac politely commanded one of them to make a dish, something full of nutrition. 

Pac sighed, he took a final deep breath and knocked on Fit’s office door, holding a plate of food in one hand, Philza and other servants stood behind him in support. They all waited for Fit to respond, hoping he wouldn’t force Pac to leave immediately. It was late, the sky was setting when Pac and Etoiles had begun to fight, and by the end it had been set for at least two hours, so the time was beginning to reach midnight, and Fit’s people typically went to bed at around ten or eleven, including the King himself, unless he overworked himself.

“Who is it?” he grumbled.

“Pac,”

“Come in, but make it quick,”

Pac felt hands on his back, shove him into the room, he turned to see many servants holding their thumbs up, wishing him luck. He stepped inside, and held his breath.

“I brought you food,” he smiled.

“Thanks, but I’m too busy,”

“I fainted from not eating, you’ll do the same,”

“Pac, missing three meals won’t-”

“That’s how it starts, that how it started,”

“Pac, I’m busy,”

“Eat.”

“You don’t get to command me, you are below me,” Fit looked up from his work.

“Perhaps I am below you status wise in 2b2t, but in Favela I am higher, and in the Kingdom of Fools I would be higher too, so listen to me and eat,”

“Making threats are you?”

“I have made no threats, I have stated facts, eat,”

“I don’t need you to treat me like a child,”

“Then eat of your own free will and I won’t,”

“I don’t have time to,”

“Either I treat you as if you are a child or I treat you as if you are a grown arse man, which you are, but I promise you, you won’t enjoy the latter,”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I am smarter than many give me credit for, meaning I observe things, such as Ramon’s tears at breakfast… or the worry lacing Philza’s eyes… or the fact that Niki refused to look at anyone when I walked past, people are concerned for you and you don’t give a shit,”

“I AM BUSY!”

“Your kingdom needs you in good health, regardless of your duties, your health remaining should be your top priority,”

“DON’T SPEAK TO ME OF KINGLY DUTIES,”

“I am a king too, I have been a king too, and a prince, a role you haven’t been, I know a lot about duties,”

“JUST LEAVE!”

“No,”

“YOU REFUSE YOUR KING?”

“My King is Cellbit, My King was my father, You are my husband, not my King,”

“LEARN YOUR FUCKING PLACE, YOUR FATHER IS DEAD, YOUR BROTHER GAVE YOU TO BE MARRIED TO ME, WHILST YES I AM YOUR HUSBAND, I AM ALSO YOUR KING,”

“Eat the fucking food, you can eat and work simultaneously,” 

“I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TRYING,”

“What am I trying?”

“TO GET ME TO LEAVE MY DUTIES, I CAN’T,”

“I understand that, hence why I, unlike your staff, brought you food instead of trying to coerce you to your bed,”

“DON’T TRY YOUR TRICKS ON ME, THEY WON’T WORK,”

“I am not trying any tricks, you are smart, I doubt you’d fall for any that I could possibly try,”

“DON’T LIE!”

“What makes you think that I’m lying?”

“NORMALLY IN OUR ARGUMENTS, YOU FIGHT BACK, YOU AREN’T CALM,”

“True… I won’t deny it, but I believed our arguments were coming to an end, what a shame,”

“WELL TOUGH LUCK, YOU MARRIED A MAN WHO YOU DON’T LOVE AND WHO DOESN’T LOVE YOU, ARGUMENTS ARE BOUND TO HAPPEN,”

“I know… I wish they weren’t, or else I’d maybe like to be your friend… you don’t seem like horrible company…”

“Just leave,” Fit sighed.

“Not until you take a bite of your food,”

“I told you not to treat me like a child, I don’t need somebody younger than me patronising me,”

“I’m sorry but I won’t leave,”

“OH, FOR FUCKS SAKE PAC, LEAVE,”

“EAT!”

“OH, SO NOW YOU ARE YELLING,”

“YOU KNOW WHAT? YEAH, YOU ARE BEING A STUBBORN PIECE OF SHIT, JUST EAT AND STOP BEING A HYPOCRITE,”

“HYPOCRITE?”

“YEAH, YOU GOT MAD WHEN I DIDN’T EAT, YET WHEN I DO THE SAME FOR YOU IT’S UNACCEPTABLE,”

“THERE’S A FUCKING DIFFERENT, I AM THE KING, AND YOU DIDN’T HAVE A VALID REASON FOR NOT EATING,”

“I DID! OVERWORKING YOURSELF ISN’T A VALID REASON,”

“BOO HOO YOU MISSED YOUR FAMILY, AT LEAST I’M WORKING,”

“YOU AREN’T RIGHT NOW!”

“BECAUSE YOU ARE REFUSING TO LEAVE!”

“ONE BITE, ONE FUCKING BITE, PLEASE,”

“NO, JUST LEAVE,”

“NO-”

“SHUT UP!”

“DON’T TRY TO SILENCE ME, IT WON’T WORK OUT WELL FOR YOU,”

Fit stood up, and walked over to Pac, he raised his hand. Pac flinched, shut his eyes, screwing them tight, tighter than he had ever shut them before. He waited… and waited… but not slap ever came.

“Fit?” he asked as he opened his eyes.

“Please…” Fit croaked, “Just leave,”

Chapter Text

Fit’s life began to return to normalcy, he shared a bed with Pac, just as he had done with Spreen, he wasn’t taking breaks from work anymore and was catching up with missed work, which there was a lot of, he was highly respected, and not envisioned as a failure for not having a husband, not anymore. He was safe. He was good. Everything was good. If everything was good why was he still taking anxiety meds, and a lot of them at that, Niki had only just given him the bottle, and in a single day they were almost half gone, he’d need to get more, they were the only thing keeping him sane, or relatively sane. 

“Morning,” Pac smiled.

“Good morning,”

“How did you sleep?”  

“Alright… you?”

“Sim, it was alright,”

“Well, I best get going, I have a lot to do today,”

“You do?”

“Being a King isn’t easy, surely you know that,”

“Of course, but it’s only around five in the morning, aren’t you having breakfast first, with Ramon and Richas?”

“I can’t, I have a lot to do,”

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“No, Philza will inform you whenever your duties are required but you can basically just relax until then,”

“I mean with your duties, is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, just look after our boys,”

“Okay… ugh why does everyone in 2b2t wake up so early,” Pac complained.

“What time do you wake up in Favela?”

“Like nine,”

“NINE?”

“Sim,”

“And what time would you go to bed?”

“Around two,”

“TWO?”

“Yeah… seven hours of sleep, same as here, it’s just difficult to get used to,”

“As much as I would love to stay and chat, I have to go,”

Fit’s vision blurred, he couldn’t see straight, he sighed for about the fifth time in ten minutes, before swallowing a pill and moving on. He’d been given many documents to sign, some from Favela, to authenticate his marriage, some from nobles of 2b2t, and some from ministers and priests. It would be fine if he could just sign the documents and move on but he couldn’t, he had to read them all, and the smallest one was two hundred and five pages, and he had about fifty documents to sign. 

He watched the sun rise and fall through the window as he kept working. Many people had come inside attempting to stop his work, but he couldn’t fall behind again, none of them understood, not even Philza, who used to be a King himself. He had forbidden them to bring Ramon in, he couldn’t see Ramon, not today, otherwise he’d immediately give up on all work and while he loved his son his kingdom needed his love too.

A knock came from his door, he sighed, probably another one of his staff attempting to get him to leave, or to eat or something, he couldn’t distract himself, not even food was worth it at this point. 

“Who is it?” he grumbled.

“Pac,”

“Come in, but make it quick,”

He rolled his eyes as the door opened, revealing his husband, and many servants stood behind him, holding their breath, Fit wasn’t an idiot, he knew what they were hoping for and he couldn’t give it to them, he could neglect his health for a few days for his kingdom, they might not understand but in the long run they’d be grateful. 

“I brought you food,” he smiled.

“Thanks, but I’m too busy,”

“I fainted from not eating, you’ll do the same,”

“Pac, missing three meals won’t-”

“That’s how it starts, that how it started,”

“Pac, I’m busy,”

“Eat.”

“You don’t get to command me, you are below me,” Fit looked up from his work.

“Perhaps I am below you status wise in 2b2t, but in Favela I am higher, and in the Kingdom of Fools I would be higher too, so listen to me and eat,”

“Making threats are you?”

“I have made no threats, I have stated facts, eat,”

“I don’t need you to treat me like a child,”

“Then eat of your own free will and I won’t,”

“I don’t have time to,”

“Either I treat you as if you are a child or I treat you as if you are a grown arse man, which you are, but I promise you, you won’t enjoy the latter,”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I am smarter than many give me credit for, meaning I observe things, such as Ramon’s tears at breakfast… or the worry lacing Philza’s eyes… or the fact that Niki refused to look at anyone when I walked past, people are concerned for you and you don’t give a shit,”

“I AM BUSY!”

“Your kingdom needs you in good health, regardless of your duties, your health remaining should be your top priority,”

“DON’T SPEAK TO ME OF KINGLY DUTIES,”

“I am a king too, I have been a king too, and a prince, a role you haven’t been, I know a lot about duties,”

“JUST LEAVE!”

“No,”

“YOU REFUSE YOUR KING?”

“My King is Cellbit, My King was my father, You are my husband, not my King,”

“LEARN YOUR FUCKING PLACE, YOUR FATHER IS DEAD, YOUR BROTHER GAVE YOU TO BE MARRIED TO ME, WHILST YES I AM YOUR HUSBAND, I AM ALSO YOUR KING,”

“Eat the fucking food, you can eat and work simultaneously,” 

“I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TRYING,”

“What am I trying?”

“TO GET ME TO LEAVE MY DUTIES, I CAN’T,”

“I understand that, hence why I, unlike your staff, brought you food instead of trying to coerce you to your bed,”

“DON’T TRY YOUR TRICKS ON ME, THEY WON’T WORK,”

“I am not trying any tricks, you are smart, I doubt you’d fall for any that I could possibly try,”

“DON’T LIE!”

“What makes you think that I’m lying?”

“NORMALLY IN OUR ARGUMENTS, YOU FIGHT BACK, YOU AREN’T CALM,”

“True… I won’t deny it, but I believed our arguments were coming to an end, what a shame,”

“WELL TOUGH LUCK, YOU MARRIED A MAN WHO YOU DON’T LOVE AND WHO DOESN’T LOVE YOU, ARGUMENTS ARE BOUND TO HAPPEN,”

“I know… I wish they weren’t, or else I’d maybe like to be your friend… you don’t seem like horrible company…”

“Just leave,” Fit sighed.

“Not until you take a bite of your food,”

“I told you not to treat me like a child, I don’t need somebody younger than me patronising me,”

“I’m sorry but I won’t leave,”

“OH, FOR FUCKS SAKE PAC, LEAVE,”

“EAT!”

“OH, SO NOW YOU ARE YELLING,”

“YOU KNOW WHAT? YEAH, YOU ARE BEING A STUBBORN PIECE OF SHIT, JUST EAT AND STOP BEING A HYPOCRITE,”

“HYPOCRITE?”

“YEAH, YOU GOT MAD WHEN I DIDN’T EAT, YET WHEN I DO THE SAME FOR YOU IT’S UNACCEPTABLE,”

“THERE’S A FUCKING DIFFERENT, I AM THE KING, AND YOU DIDN’T HAVE A VALID REASON FOR NOT EATING,”

“I DID! OVERWORKING YOURSELF ISN’T A VALID REASON,”

“BOO HOO YOU MISSED YOUR FAMILY, AT LEAST I’M WORKING,”

“YOU AREN’T RIGHT NOW!”

“BECAUSE YOU ARE REFUSING TO LEAVE!”

“ONE BITE, ONE FUCKING BITE, PLEASE,”

“NO, JUST LEAVE,”

“NO-”

“SHUT UP!”

“DON’T TRY TO SILENCE ME, IT WON’T WORK OUT WELL FOR YOU,”

Fit stood up, and walked over to Pac, he raised his hand. Pac flinched, shut his eyes, screwing them tight. Fit’s own eyes widened as he realised what he was doing. His hand stopped inches from Pac’s face, it was shaking, more so than he’d seen before, more so than he was comfortable with. Why was he going to hit Pac? He wouldn’t hit anyone, not someone who wasn’t an enemy, and certainly not somebody he was supposed to love, why was he going to hit Pac?

“Fit?” he asked as he opened his eyes.

“Please…” Fit croaked, “Just leave,”

Pac had left the room; he had practically run out. Fit had ruined the marriage, the contract literally said no abuse, he broke one of the few rules, and now he would have to find another husband to protect Ramon, another husband whilst being labelled as an abuser, it wouldn’t be easy, but at least he had ten years. 

He walked outside his office, Philza, Niki, Bad, Baghera and Kameto were all standing outside, shocked expressions lacing their faces. Fit rolled his eyes. 

“I request all of thee to depart, retire to thy rest, and under no pretext disturb me further, excepting thou, Baghera, whom I bid to remain outside this chamber as my night watch, for I shall not stir from this place this night, and due to this I bid thee, Philza, to bring me a fresh raiment, a brush for my teeth and paste, and a covering of wool, understood?”

“Yes my liege,” Baghera bowed.

“Yes your highness,” everyone else said, before running off. 

“Baghera?”

“Yes?”

“I entrust to thee a missive, that it be promptly delivered unto one Ramon prior to returning to thy station,”

“The youthful prince already lieth in slumber, your sovereign grace.” 

“Pray tell, what is the current hour?”

“Nearing half past midnight,”

“Great… annul all appointments scheduled upon the morrow”

“Should I cause the withdrawal of the morning repast with Ramon? He will be distraught once more,”

“I charge thee, tempt me not with mine own son's affections. I am well aware of thy machinations. Breakfast shall be cancelled forthwith. Convey this missive to him anon. Furthermore, he shall remain barred from this passageway,”

“Hearken, thy liege, shall thy humble servant acquaint thee with the tidings of Philza's return, burdened with thy belongings?”

“Beseech thee to leave it by the door, I shall then retrieve it at my convenience.”

“Hath thou consumed sustenance?”

“Your task, Bagheera, is to guard my person, not to succor me. Keep your claws to your own hide,”

“I apologise your majesty, my intention was to ask if you wished for me to retrieve food for you,”

“Pac hath bestowed upon me sustenance. Should hunger gnaw at my belly, I shall partake thereof,”

“I did witness his departure in a maudlin condition, and did surmise that thou wert not well-pleased with the repast he proffered.”

“Why he left in tears, is NYFB, understood?”

“I shall forthwith discharge the obligations thou hast entreated of me,”

Fit had been sitting in his office for about three days, sleep hadn’t come easy, and he was zoned out more often than he was focused but he couldn’t sleep. He could tell his staff and friends were concerned for him, he hadn’t seen Pac or Richas or Ramon in those few days, at this point he’d assumed that Pac and Richas had returned to Favela, and he’d be served with divorce papers soon, to add to his work load.

A harsh knock came to his door, hopefully it was Niki with more anxiety meds, he only had one left, he’d tried to ration them but it was to little avail as he’d used them far too quickly and informed her to make more, despite her protests. 

“King Fit?” a voice croaked, it sounded like Pac, it couldn’t be Pac, he had left.

“Come in…” he sighed.

Pac walked inside. Pac. The man who should’ve divorced him already. Oh, wait, maybe he wanted to hand over the divorce papers in person, to rub it in his face. 

“You need to go to bed-” Pac began.

“What?”

“Attend to your rest, for the sanguine humour abounds in your orbs, and doth manifest beneath as swollen pouches. Thy visage betrays an indisposition that doth afflict the flesh,”

“Why are you here?”

“To take care of my husband?”

“You aren’t divorcing me?”

“No… I can’t,”

“I hit you, it’s in the contract,”

“Did you?”

“I have lifted my gauntleted hand; is this not cause sufficient?”

“By your leave, your hand did not touch upon my person”

“Verily, wherefore art thou so devoid of trepidation?”

“As thou hast wrought me no harm, thou art free from guilt in this matter. Seek thy rest, for all are afeard, Ramon in particular.”

“Pac-”

“My liege Fit, I beseech thee… your majesty, I know thou hast not broken thy fast nor slept these three days, and thy people are heavy with concern. I am…” Pac pleaded.

“I-”

“Our bed is lonely… I never thought that I’d be lonely in bed without you, but I have become accustomed to it, to you being there with me, I wish for you to return… please,”

“Fine…”

“Really?” Pac’s eyes widened.

“Yeah… just let me finish signing one more document and then you can lead my back to our bedroom,”

“Okay, do you wish to wash or eat before going to bed or not?”

“Is this your way of telling me I stink?”

“Well… you do, but I care not what order you do it in,”

“I’ll have a shower before I sleep and I’ll eat after,”

“Okay, I’ll inform the servants,” Pac turned and left the room.

Pac held Fit’s hand as he led him back to their room. He held it tight, as if he were afraid of Fit leaving, which was a possibility. Fit had no clue what time it was, but as he looked out of the many windows, he saw a dark and cloudy sky, so he had to assume it was late, probably past the waking hours of Ramon and Richas.

Pac squeezed Fit’s hand. Fit imagined that he had realised that he was zoning out, but Pac didn’t falter as if he’d experienced this before. Fit tried not to let the thought linger. 

They reached their room, when? Fit couldn’t tell you. He just sat on his bed, which was far more comfortable than a desk chair. Pac watched him with a face of pity, a face that Fit hated to see, he hated pity, he didn’t need to be pitied, it was life and he just had to deal with it. 

“Do you want to go and shower now?” Pac asked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Fit spat.

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me, I don’t need your fucking pity,”

“I apologise my liege,”

“My liege?” Fit laughed, “I thought you said I wasn’t your king,”

“We both said stupid things and did stupid actions,”

“That’s an understatement,”

“Well then go shower, I’ll be waiting here for you, don’t fall asleep due to the hot water,”

“Okay…” 

Fit got in the shower, the warm water easing his achy muscles, sitting at a desk chair for three days was not good for his back, nor his neck. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension. When he eventually returned to the bedroom, Pac had shut the curtains and gotten the bed ready. Fit smiled, despite not loving him the man sure did care, that was probably one of his best features, he was a caring man.

“I’m going to go help the servants in the kitchen-”

“Stay… please?”

“I’ll stay, where do you want me?”

“Sleep beside me… please… I need some normalcy,”

“Okay, do you need anything else?”

“No,”

“Okay,”

Pac lay beside him, and Fit wrapped his arms around his husband, as Pac nestled in. They both smiled as they quickly fell asleep. Fit getting much needed rest. 

When Fit awoke, the sun’s rays shone through the curtains, and Pac was facing him, having turned around in his sleep. One of Fit’s hands rested in Pac’s short curls, twirling the strands around. Pac leaned into the touch, causing Fit to smile. 

“Feeling better?” Pac asked.

“Yes… thank you, and I’m sorry,”

“I understand, don’t worry and I forgive you,”

“Still, I am sorry,”

“A servant should be arriving shortly to bring you some food,”

“Okay, well I have to get back to work-”

“No, you don’t, I have cleared your work, Philza works wonders, if there is an emergency I’ll be contacted, not you, your job is to get back to full health,”

“I’m not ill though,”

“Regardless, anyway is there anything you’d like to talk about? You know, until the servant gets here,”

“Uh, I have a question… but you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to,”

“Ask away,”

“You flinched, are you scared of me? People don’t flinch unless they have something to be scared of,”

“It’s not you and it’s complicated,”

“We have time, if you’re willing,”

“I- um… do you want to know about my past?”

“How far into the past?”

“My entire life, trauma and all,”

“If you are willing,”

Chapter Text

The day Pac was born was eventful, stressful and full of tears. His mother gave birth in a dirty street, crying, sobbing because she knew she couldn’t keep her son. She didn’t have a choice, not because she was too poor to raise him, not because she was ill or because he was, but because she was to be married to the King, and if he found out she’d had sex before marriage, or before him, she could be beheaded, despite not even being a noble and instead being a poor servant girl and not knowing that she had to be celibate for the King. Her boyfriend, the man she was leaving behind, understood her pain, and promised to take care of her son for her, but deep down she knew he was lying, he was too poor to care for a son alone, she knew her son was going to an orphanage, despite not being an orphan. 

Once the woman had recovered from giving birth, she began to walk through the streets, holding her newborn son in her arms, she was going to try to run, she could find refuge in another kingdom, like the Kingdom of 2b2t, or the Kingdom of Fools, or the Kingdom of the Federation, but she wouldn’t be able to escape. She sighed, squeezing her boy tight. Her boyfriend rested his hand on her shoulder, squeezing in gently in solidarity. 

“Qual orfanato é melhor?” she asked. (Which orphanage is best?)

“O da viela de Copacabana,” (The one in Copacabana alley,)

“Ok…” she sighed as she sobbed, “Meu pobre bebê,” (My poor baby)

“Nosso pequeno Pac,” (Our little Pac)

“Sinto muito, pequena,” (I’m so sorry, little one)

She wiped her tears, after she handed her son to her boyfriend, he bounced Pac, ensuring that he didn’t cry himself, hoping that his son would be quiet whilst they walked to the orphanage, they couldn’t be spotted by the King or any of his guards, or else Celina, Pac’s mother, would be sentenced to death.

By the time Pac had reached age six, he had acknowledged his loneliness, he had no friends, no parents, and no family and whilst the ladies who worked at the orphanage were kind, most of them didn’t like him, as he was a troublemaker, but he never knew what he had done wrong and they never told him.

He did his chores, ate the little rations that he was allowed to have, did his school work and went to sleep, but as he was one of the eldest, he didn’t get a bed, they were reserved for the little kids, but he did get his own room, which was a benefit that not all kids would ever receive. 

“Pac, ajude a Sra. Maria, por favor,” Mrs Ana said. (Pac, help Mrs Maria, please)

“Ok, senhora,” (Okay, ma’am)

Mrs Maria was his favourite, she was always incredibly kind, and slipped him extra rations whenever she could. She was a young woman, unlike the rest of the staff, and she always smiled brightly, despite the lack of money that the orphanage had. 

Mrs Maria was in the office, signing in some new children, Pac sighed, new children meant less room, less attention, less rations and less money. He hated new children; they made his life worse. Once Maria spotted him, she smiled and ushered him over, to meet a new boy, he was only four, but he spoke well, and smiled despite clearly being upset.

“Pac, este é o Mike,” Maria introduced. (Pac, this is Mike)

“Oi,” the little boy, Mike, squeaked. 

“Oi,” Pac waved, “Sra. Maria, por que temos que ter novos filhos? É muito movimentado,” (Mrs Maria, why do we have to have new children? It’s too busy)

“Pac, querido, preciso que você entenda, os pais dessas crianças morreram ou as entregaram, não podemos decidir quando e para onde elas vão, apenas que elas são amadas,” (Pac, honey, I need you to understand, these children's parents died or gave them up, we can't decide when and where they go, only that they are loved,)

“Certo... bem, a Sra. Ana me pediu para ajudar você, então como posso ajudar?” (Okay...well, Ms. Anna asked me to help you, so how can I help?)

“Oh! Que maravilha! Você pode mostrar o quarto dele para o Mike?” (Oh! How wonderful! Can you show Mike his room?)

“Qual sala?” (Which room?)

“Seu quarto, você vai dividir,” (Your room, you will share)

“O QUE?”

“Pac, não tem espaço suficiente nos outros quartos, por favor, será só ele,” (Pac, there isn't enough space in the other rooms, please, it will be just him,)

“Mas- mas, eu nem tenho uma cama, onde ele vai dormir?” (But- but, I don't even have a bed, where is he going to sleep?)

“Vamos encomendar outra cama, uma para vocês dois dividirem,” (Let's order another bed, one for the two of you to share,)

“Por que agora? Por que só quando ele está aqui? Eu não era boa o suficiente? Como posso ser melhor, Maria? Por favor, todos os outros me odeiam, o que eu fiz?” (Why now? Why only when he's here? Wasn't I good enough? How can I be better, Maria? Please, everyone else hates me, what have I done?)

“Eles te odeiam porque você é especial, Pac, você é nosso garotinho especial, e eu acho que você merece um amigo, então o Mike aqui pode preencher esse vazio no seu coração.” (They hate you because you're special, Pac, you're our special little boy, and I think you deserve a friend, so Mike here can fill that hole in your heart.)

“Multar…” (Fine…)

The two boys began walking up the tall stairs, Pac slept on the fifth floor, he carried Mike’s bags for him, he didn’t blame the boy for his situation, he knew he couldn’t help it, but he blamed Mr Geraldo, the owner of the orphanage, he always wanted more money, so he kept saying they had room when they didn’t, it made for a horrible situation for everyone involved except him. 

“Desculpe, não queria te incomodar,” Mike admitted. (Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you)

“Não se desculpe, a culpa não é sua, a culpa é do Sr. Geraldo,” (Don't apologize, it's not your fault, it's Mr. Geraldo's fault,)

“Que é aquele?” (Who is that?)

“O dono do orfanato, mas Mike, você precisa me ouvir, eu vou te ensinar como sobreviver aqui, não é fácil e muitas crianças morrem de doenças no começo, eu não vou deixar isso acontecer com você,” (The owner of the orphanage, but Mike, you need to listen to me, I will teach you how to survive here, it's not easy and many children die from diseases in the beginning, I won't let that happen to you,)

Pac waited in their shared room, he’d been banished as he stole an extra glass of water when Mike was sick, and medicine… but the orphanage didn’t know about that yet. He was nine, Mike was seven, he had to be the responsible one, and yet he was getting Mike to steal him some bread as he’d been forbidden from joining the rest of them at dinner that night. 

He knew he’d have to leave soon, or else he’d get sick and they’d leave him to die and there would be nothing that Mike could do, he was a menace, apparently, and a freak. Maria was the only one who believed him, and he didn’t lie, they always believed the little rats that the other children were, as they spread lies about him. 

He heard their secret knock, one, pause, two, three, pause, four, five. He smiled, getting up to unlock the door. The door was heavy, well heavy for someone who was malnourished, which both him and Mike definitely were, they were both going to die soon if they didn’t do anything. 

“Trouxe um pouco de pão para você…” (I brought you some bread)

“Obrigado,” (Thank you)

“Você tem pensado… não é?” (You’ve been thinking, haven’t you?)

“Sim… Não podemos ficar aqui muito mais tempo…” (Yes… We can’t stay here much longer…)

“Eu sei... vamos morrer, desculpe, não tem muito pão, não tinha nada para roubar,” (I know... we're going to die, I'm sorry, there's not much bread, there was nothing to steal,)

“Nada?” (Nothing?)

“Melena também está doente…” (Melena is also sick…)

“Realmente?” (Really?)

“Sim… Não acho que ela vá sobreviver,” (Yeah… I don’t think she’ll survive,)

“Quantas crianças novas chegaram hoje?” (How many new children arrived today?)

“Dez…” (Ten…)

“Porra, por que o Sr. Geraldo não consegue entender? Não tem espaço!” (Damn, why can't Mr. Geraldo understand? There's no space!)

“Por que não fugimos?” (Why don’t we run away?)

“Para onde correríamos? Não temos família” (Where would we run to? We have no family)

“Nas ruas, nós dois podemos roubar e não seremos pegos, não haverá ninguém para dedurar e nós dois somos bons em roubar, conseguiremos mais comida do que temos aqui,” (On the streets, we can both steal and we won't get caught, there will be no one to snitch and we are both good at stealing, we will get more food than we have here,)

“Sabe de uma coisa, hoje à noite, nós partiremos hoje à noite, depois que todos forem dormir, e dividiremos o pão,” (You know what, tonight, we'll leave tonight, after everyone goes to sleep, and we'll share bread,)

“Mas eu já comi-” (But I already ate-)

“Mike-”

“Tudo bem... como está seu rosto? Você levou um tapa muito forte antes,” (Okay... how's your face? You got slapped really hard earlier,)

“Ainda dói um pouco e certamente ficará roxo, mas já passei por coisas piores.” (It still hurts a little and will definitely bruise, but I've been through worse)

“Deveria ter sido eu, fui eu quem roubou,” (It should have been me, I was the one who stole it,)

“Eu disse para você roubar, eu mereci o tapa, além disso, se você se metesse em problemas, não teríamos esse pão, agora coma, temos que estar prontos para esta noite,” (I told you to steal, I deserved the slap, besides if you got in trouble we wouldn't have this bread, now eat, we have to be ready for tonight,)

“Você sempre recebeu minhas surras por mim… Me desculpe,” (You always took my beatings for me… I'm sorry,)

Being sentenced to death at ten years old, only a year after you escaped your orphanage, was not fun, especially since your little brother would have to watch and then die himself. They got caught stealing, but it wasn’t because they weren’t careful, it was because a guy thought they looked suspicious so they were searched, and well… they had a lot of stolen goods on them. 

Mike’s hand rested in Pac’s, they both shook with fear, at least they were dying together. Pac stepped up on the stage, Mike stood right behind him. 

“Estamos aqui para testemunhar a execução de Pac TazerCraft e Mike TazerCraft,” (We are here to witness the execution of Pac TazerCraft and Mike TazerCraft,)

“ESPERE!” a woman screamed, “ESPERE! EU ORDEM QUE VOCÊ ESPERE! EU SOU A RAINHA E EU ORDEM QUE VOCÊ ESPERE,” (WAIT! I ORDER YOU TO WAIT! I AM THE QUEEN AND I ORDER YOU TO WAIT)

Everybody froze, Pac and Mike turned to face the crazy woman, pretending to be the queen, only to realise she was actually the queen, and she was being helped up onto the stage. She wore a long blue dress, with painted green dragon scales on the train. She looked elegant, and beautiful, her long dark her a match to Pac’s own, which was long overgrown, not that it mattered, he was being beheaded shortly, after whatever the queen wished to say.

“Você não executará Pac TazerCraft,” (You will not execute Pac TazerCraft,)

“O que?” the executioner gasped, “Por que?”

“Pois ele é meu filho, e fazer isso seria um ato de traição,” (For he is my son, and to do so would be an act of treason,)

“Filho?” Pac whispered to Mike, “Eu pensei que minha mãe tinha morrido,” (Son? I thought my mother had died)

“Eu também... bem, pelo menos você consegue viver, tchau Pacey,” (Me too... well at least you get to live, bye Pacey,)

“Eu não vivo sem você,” (I’m not living without you)

“Liberte-o de seus grilhões,” she commanded. (Free him from his shackles,)

A guard walked over to him with a frown, harshly grabbed his wrists, and pushed a key into the lock. He twisted it slowly, probably hoping for the queen to take back her command but she never did. 

“Meu filho, estou tão feliz por poder vê-lo novamente depois de todos esses anos,” (My son, I am so happy to be able to see you again after all these years,)

“Você me entregou,” Pac spat, “E eu prefiro morrer do que viver sem Mike, então você pode muito bem me matar,” (You have me away, and I'd rather die than live without Mike, so you might as well kill me,)

“Solte o Mike também,” (Release Mike too)

“O que?” Mike gasped.

“Se meu filho não voltar para mim sem você, então você se juntará a ele,” (If my son won’t return to me without you, then you will join him)

“Você é mesmo minha mãe?” Pac asked, “Por que uma rainha desistiria de seu filho?” (Are you really my mother? Why would a queen give up her son?) 

“Eu não era rainha quando desisti de você,” she admitted. (I wasn't a queen when I gave you up,) 

“Rainha Celina,” Mike bowed, “Por que você não voltou para buscar seu filho?” (Queen Celina, why didn’t you return for your son?)

“Eu não deveria ter tido um filho antes de me casar com o rei... mas ele vai descobrir agora, eu não podia simplesmente deixar você morrer,” (I shouldn't have had a child before I married the king... but he'll find out now, I couldn't just let you die,)

“Ele não precisa descobrir, você nos salvou, nós retornaremos às nossas vidas, obrigado,” Pac rolled his eyes. (He doesn't need to find out, you saved us, we will return to our lives, thank you,)

“Na verdade, eu queria ser sua mãe... Tenho gêmeos, seus irmãos, o príncipe Cellbit e a princesa Bagi, eles são um ano mais novos que você, Pac, e Mike... quantos anos você tem?” (Actually, I wanted to be your mother... I have twins, your siblings, Prince Cellbit and Princess Bagi, they are a year younger than you, Pac, and Mike... how old are you?)

“Oito…” (Eight…)

“Então, um ano mais velha que você, deixe-me ser a mãe que eu nunca pude ser,” (So, one year older than you, let me be the mother I never could be.)

Pac eventually learnt to love his mother, and his half-siblings, he always loved Mike, that was without a doubt. Which meant, at the age of fifteen, his heart shattered, it shattered when his mother grew ill, it shattered when she grew weak, and it shattered when she finally passed away. Unfortunately for Pac, he knew it would have many more consequences on him than just grief, he’d be his step-father’s puppet, somebody for him to manipulate, but she wasn’t dead yet, just dying, and would be gone soon. 

“Pac-” she whispered.

“Só descanse, mãe.” (Just rest, mãe)

“Não, eu tenho que te contar uma coisa,” (No, I have to tell you something,)

“Mãe, você está doente, concentre-se em se recuperar antes de me dizer qualquer coisa,” (Mãe you're sick, focus on getting better before you tell me anything,)

“Não, estou morrendo,” (No, I’m dying)

“Mãe-”

“Não, meu filho, meu querido menino, lamento ter desistido de você, mas também lamento ter feito de você um príncipe, lamento que a vida não tenha sido gentil com você,” (No, my son, my dear boy, I'm sorry I gave you up, but I'm also sorry I made you a prince, I'm sorry life wasn't kind to you,)

“Mãe?”

“Seu padrasto, ele- ele não gosta de você,” (Your stepfather, he- he doesn't like you,)

“Isso não é segredo,” (That’s not a secret)

“Ele vai te mandar para a guerra, assim que eu morrer, me prometa que você será forte, me prometa,” (He'll send you to war, as soon as I die, promise me you'll be strong, promise me,)

“Eu prometo, mãe,” (I promise, mãe)

“Mantenha os outros seguros, eles confiam em você mais do que você imagina, você é incrivelmente forte,” she croaked. (Keep others safe, they rely on you more than you know, you are incredibly strong)

“Sim, mamãe, sim, eu serei forte, cuidarei dos outros, mas não quero que você vá,” (Yes, mamãe, yes, I'll be strong, I'll take care of others, but I don't want you to go,) 

“Eu sei, meu lindo garoto, eu sei, sinto muito, eu queria ter passado mais tempo com você, você é um príncipe incrível e será um rei ainda melhor.” (I know, my beautiful boy, I know, I'm sorry, I wish I could have spent more time with you, you are an amazing prince and you will be an even better king)

“Mas eu não serei rei…” (But I won’t be king…)

“Por que não?”

“Cellbit-”

“Você é mais velho,” (You are older)

“Pai, ele disse que o título vai para Cellbit,” (Father, he said the title goes to Cellbit)

“Tenho uma última coisa para lhe dizer…” (I have one last thing to tell you)

“Sim, mamãe?”

“Falei com uma deusa... o nome dela era Mine, ela será a deusa padroeira de Mike, ela me mostrou seu futuro, e estou feliz que tenha terminado assim para você... mas sinto muito, você terá que passar pelo inferno e voltar antes de chegar lá,” (I spoke to a goddess... her name was Mine, she will be Mike's patron goddess, she showed me your future, and I'm glad it turned out this way for you... but I'm sorry, you'll have to go through hell and back before you get there,)

“Eu-eu acabo feliz?” (I- I end up happy?)

“Sim,” she laughed, “E o seu irmão também, na verdade os dois também, e a sua irmã também,” (And your brother too, actually both of them too, and your sister too.)

“Pena que não tenho parentesco biológico com nenhum deles... aí poderíamos ser uma família de verdade” (It's a shame I'm not biologically related to any of them... then we could be a real family.)

“Você é meio parente deles-” (You are half related to them)

“Para dois deles,” (To two of them)

“Todos eles... Eu olhei os arquivos do Mike, ele é parente seu, vocês têm o mesmo pai, mas hum... ele morreu, é por isso que o Mike acabou no orfanato também,” (All of them... I looked at Mike's files, he's related to you, you have the same father, but um... he died, that's why Mike ended up in the orphanage too.)

“Realmente?” (Really?)

“Sim… Eu te amo meu garoto, meu maior arrependimento na vida foi ter te entregado, você se mostrou incrível, continue forte,” (Yes… I love you my boy, my biggest regret in life was giving you away, you turned out to be amazing, stay strong,)

“Eu vou mamãe, eu vou,” (I will, mamãe, I will)

“Eu te amo,” (I love you,)

“Eu também te amo,” (I love you too)

Roaring pain soared through Pac’s leg, or where his leg should’ve been. His vision blurred as he phased in and out of consciousness. He felt sick, there was blood everywhere, of course there was blood everywhere it was a battlefield but this time it was his blood. The prince of Favela’s blood. He had been fighting alongside his father, he remembered his father getting shot in the chest… and then… agonising pain… and then… nothing. A metallic scent stained the air, as many medics desperately tried to stop Pac’s bleeding, he would die if they failed… and well the Kingdom needed a King, they had lost their King only hours prior, and their Queen a few years ago. 

Pac had only just turned eighteen, two days ago, and he’d be forced to take the throne, if he didn’t die, Cellbit was too young despite being the next eldest, he had two years to go, two years till his eighteenth birthday. 

Once Pac regained consciousness, he screamed, he shrieked, he cried, he was in agony, and he no longer had adrenaline easing the pain.

“Acalme-se, Príncipe Pac, por favor,” a medic begged, “Isso só vai piorar a situação,” (Calm down, Prince Pac, please, this will only make the situation worse,)

“Onde está minha perna?” (Where is my leg?)

“Você perdeu…” (You lost it…)

“O que?”

“Sua perna foi cortada” (Your leg was cut off)

“Onde está meu pai?” he cried, starting to panic again. (Where is my father?)

“...”

“ONDE ESTÁ MEU PAI?” (WHERE IS MY FATHER?)

“Morto…” Guaxinim, the only soldier brave enough, spoke up. (Dead…)

“Morto-” Pac whispered.

“Você é nosso Rei agora,” Guaxinim continued, “Então precisamos que você fique calmo, senão você vai morrer e não teremos ninguém,” (You are our King now, so we need you to stay calm, otherwise you will die and we will have no one,)

“Eu não deveria assumir o trono… E o Cellbit?” (I shouldn’t take the throne… What about Cellbit?)

“Ele é muito jovem, até você sabe disso,” (He’s too young, even you know that)

“And the rest is a story for another time,” Pac smiled, as the servants brought food for Fit to eat in.

“There’s more?”

“Sim, a lot more, I didn’t go into much detail… but I’m curious about you… so care to enlighten me?”

“Uh… it’s not much to tell,”

“I don’t mind,”

“Is this your way of tricking me into taking care of myself?”

“Maybe…”

“Fine…”

“You don’t have to if you are uncomfortable,”

“No, no, it’s only fair, you shared about yourself, I should share too,”

“Go ahead, I’m listening,”

“Uh, where should I start?”

“As early as you can,”

“Well, I don’t know the story of my birth if that’s what you’re interested in, my mother never told me,”

“Whatever you feel comfortable with telling me,”

“Okay… um, how about starting at ten?”

“Sure, is that when your life gets interesting?”

“That’s when the war against the old King starts, except I wasn’t fighting in it yet,”

“Ooooh, sounds interesting,”

“Okay so…”

Chapter Text

Little ten-year-old Fit, sat at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables, his mother was also cooking some chicken, and his father wasn’t home, thank goodness. Unfortunately for both Fit and his mother, his father arrived home shortly after, he was early, meaning dinner wasn’t ready for him upon his return. The man stormed into the room, eyes flickering between his wife and his son, before he opened his mouth and began to scream.

“YOU STUPID WOMAN, WHERE IS MY DINNER?”

“You are home early, my love, if I had known then it would be ready-”

“AND WHY IS MY SON COOKING? HE IS A MAN, HE SHOULDN’T COOK, THAT’S A WOMAN’S JOB,”

“I’m sorry, he wanted to help… I shouldn’t have let him-”

“WELL, YOU DID, AND NOW YOU’LL HAVE TO OWN UP TO YOUR ACTIONS, YOU FUCKING BITCH,”

Fit’s father raised his hand, and slapped his mother, until her face was bloody and bruised. He jumped every time his father’s hand collided with his mother’s face, this wasn’t the first time he had witnessed his father’s abuse, but that day would be the first time he was on the receiving end of it.

“DAD!” he screamed.

“WHAT YOU LITTLE BRAT?”

“STOP! PLEASE! I ASKED TO HELP! IT’S NOT HER FAULT!”

“Listen here you little rat,” his father lowered his voice, leaving his mother alone to grab his ear, “I treat my wife how I wish, and you don’t comment on it, she is mine, she is my property, and you are mine too, until you are eighteen, so shut your fucking mouth,”

“NO! I WON’T LET YOU HIT MY MOTHER,”

The harsh sound of a slap could be heard, ringing through his ears, before he even registered the pain, or his father’s next actions. He was kicked to the floor, and beaten, he didn’t really remember much, only hearing his mother’s cries, and eventually his father left to read or something, pretending as if he hadn’t just beaten his wife and son. His mother lifted him from the ground, handed him a handkerchief to wipe the blood, before she began cooking again.

“Are you really going to keep cooking for that monster,” he spat, “After he did that,”

“Yes…” she sighed, “I can’t leave this marriage,”

“Why not?”

“It’s my only social status, my marriage, if I leave him well… I’ll be chastised and nobody would help me,”

“What if we told people?”

“People won’t care about a husband hitting his wife, my little angel, it’s perfectly normal,”

“That’s bullshit…”

“Don’t swear, or else you’ll get another beating,” she warned, “And I’m glad you agree, you’ll make your future wife very happy, I’m sure of that…”

His father’s abuse only continued, only ending in the old man’s death, a death of suspicious circumstances, and definitely not the sharp end of Fit’s sword. He was fifteen when his mother died, the tyrannical King of 2b2t, Rusher, he ordered half of the women in the Kingdom to be murdered, on the accusation of being a witch. By that point, Fit’s decision was made for him, he was going to lead the revolution, he was going to kill the bastard. 

So, he sat, in his tent, eating rations, swallowing the cold, slimy food, praying to whatever god would listen, hoping that the fight would end soon, and a kind and gracious person would end up on the throne. 

“Fit?” a commander asked.

“Yes, commander, sir,” he saluted.

“General Madagio wishes to speak to you,”

“He does?”

“Yes, now make haste, he won’t wait around all day,”

“Okay, yes sir, commander, sir,”

Fit rushed out of his tent, abandoning his food, if it could even be called food, and ran to Madagio’s tent. The man sat inside, inspecting a war map, surrounded by other generals and commanders, men of a much higher ranking than Fit. Admittedly it was daunting, seeing eight pairs of eyes immediately turn to his presence. 

“Ahhh, gentlemen, I present to you soldier, Fit EmCee,” Madagio introduced.

“You asked for me sir?” Fit asked.

“I did,”

“How can I be of assistance?”

“Gentlemen since none of us can agree on who the king will be, come Rusher’s death, I propose Fit EmCee, whilst he is young, he is determined, he joined the fight for a good reason, he is fair and just, and has proven himself countless times,”

“I am not against it,” one man spoke, “But if he has proven himself, why is he only a soldier, and not a general or higher ranking?”

“He’s only a boy, fifteen,”

“We can’t make a fifteen-year-old King,” another protested.

“No, but I highly doubt this fight will end swiftly, many men will die, but I doubt Fit EmCee will be one of them,”

“Soldier?” a commander asked, “What do you have to say about this matter?”

“I- I don’t know…”

“The boy can’t even speak eloquently,” one mocked.

“Then teach him,” Madagio spat, “He’ll learn, I propose he receives a princely education within these tents while he is no occupied on the battlefield,”

“With what supplies?” 

“Fine…” a general agreed, “But Fit EmCee is to receive lessons from all of us, not just one of us, we need to ensure that he will be a just leader,”

Fit lost his arm when he took Rusher’s life, he was hurried away from the battleground as the medics desperately tried to stop the bleeding. A woman, dressed in a pink flowy dress, with red blood stains coating the bottom walked into the room. She placed her hand on his forehead, and yelled something that Fit couldn’t hear, he was probably delusional. The men hurried out of the room, retrieving whatever she had commanded. His vision swirled, and everything sounded like he was underwater, probably from blood loss.

“Fit,” she whispered, “Fit can you hear me?”

“Why are you whispering?” he groaned.

“I’m not… Fit, you need to stay conscious, I know it hurts but you have to,”

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” his vision swam, he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Ugh, fuck it!” 

The woman crashed her lips into Fit’s, moving against his despite his shock. He was frozen, completely still. He didn’t kiss back, and she knew, but she didn’t stop, not until she needed to take a breath.

“Look-” Fit began.

“Your gay I know, I’m a lesbian,”

“Then why?”

“To keep you awake your highness,”

“Highness?” 

“Rusher is dead, you are the King now,”

“What? I… the war is over?”

“Yes, and you are King,”

“I am King…” he sighed.

“Yes, now stay still this will hurt,”

The woman, he recognised her, why did he recognise her? Leonie? pressed against his arm his stump hard, he yelled out in pain, but she kept going, probably trying to stop blood loss, he knew he had lost a lot already, and the other medics were nowhere to be seen. She began to yell out too, in a language that he couldn’t understand. 

His coronation wasn’t fancy, he wore a white suit, decorated with war medals, with ruffles on the shoulders. His belt held up a sash. The suit was decorated with golden details, the outfit having been handcrafted by somebody, he didn’t know who, but he was grateful.

Antoine stood beside him; he smiled at his future King. Fit and Antoine had grown close during the war, Fit sharing his rations with the priest, believing that if the gods chose him to be a prophet of sorts, then he should survive.

 “Do you accept the role of King, to serve the country of 2b2t?”

“I come to serve not to be served,” he responded, the words echoing in his mind. 

“I hereby present to you, King of 2b2t Fit EmCee,” Antoine addressed the crowd, “Wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage and service; are you willing to do the same?”

“Gods save King Fit,” the crowd cheered, “Goddesses save King Fit, and bless his family,”

Fit was handed a sword, one decorated in jewels, and gold, not one of battle, he was also handed a staff, matching the sword. He turned to the crowd, and sat down on the throne. Cheers rang out, he could see a tear in Spreen’s eye, his boyfriend, Philza smiled at him, promising to aid him in serving his country. 

“I, Antoine, the Priest of 2b2t, will be faithful and true, and faith and truth will bear unto you, our sovereign Lord, defender of the faith, and unto your heirs and successors according to law,”

He sat down on the throne, watching as Spreen was crowned beside him, as King consort. The two held hands and grinned from their matching thrones. Gradually, a few at a time, people came up to them and bowed at the foot of the thrones, whispering small prayers before eventually standing and allowing the next to go. 

Fit never wanted to have kids, he never wanted to raise them in poverty like he was raised, but as King he was expected to have a lineage, and besides his husband Spreen wanted a kid so… he was he to deny the love of his life. So, there he was, in the local adoption centre, being introduced to many crying babies. The sound was annoying but he knew they couldn’t help it, half of them were ill, all were abandoned, or victims of unfortunate circumstances. 

A woman handed him a baby, apparently only three months old, he wasn’t sleeping, he wasn’t crying, instead he looked up at Fit, like Fit was special, like Fit was his dad. The little boy giggled in his arms, Spreen however looked disinterested, instead talking to the social worker, who looked uncomfortable.

“Is he your son?” Philza asked.

“Yeah… he is,” Fit smiled.

“I’ll find his files,”

“Thank you,”

“Of course,”

“Spreen?” Fit called.

“What?” the man groaned.

“Do you want to meet your son?”

“Ugh… fine…”

“Oh, did you choose a boy?” the woman squealed excitedly, “Oh that’s Ramon, he’s such a calm little one, definitely deserving of loving parents,”

“He shall be loved,” Fit smiled, the little boy reaching out to grab his finger.

“I know he will,” the woman smiled, “But first you’ll need to sign the official documents,”

“Philza went to retrieve his files,”

“Pray tell, does thou hast any inquiries regarding Ramon?”

“What age doth he possess? And upon which most auspicious date doth his birth be celebrated?” Fit asked.

“He’s eight months old, and April 3rd is his birthday,”

“Any allergies? Things we should be aware of?” Spreen asked.

“Nope, no allergies, he’s a healthy little boy,”

“Good,” Fit smiled, standing up, still holding Ramon tightly in his arms.

“I’ll contact you soon,” Spreen winked at the lady.

Despite loving Spreen dearly, Fit’s marriage was not a happy one, it was one of constant arguments and unequal love. Fit felt unloved, by everyone except Ramon, who adored him dearly, the two-year-old constantly followed him around. Unfortunately, that did mean Ramon did witness his parents argue, frequently, before being ushered out of the room by a servant of some kind.

“YOU ARE INFURIATING,” Spreen yelled.

“What did I do this time?”

“YOU IGNORE ME FOR DAYS ON END-”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE ACCUSE ME OF THAT,”

“THE TRUTH?”

“YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THAT ISN’T TRUE, I AM A KING, I HAVE WORK TO DO, AND THEN AFTER I COME TO YOU AND TRY TO BE ROMANTIC AND YOU BRUSH ME OFF, DON’T YOU DARE SAY I IGNORE YOU,”

“YOU DON’T TRY HARD ENOUGH…”

“DON’T TRY HARD ENOUGH? AND I’M THE INFURIATING ONE? SPREEN YOU NEED TO GROW UP,”

“AND HERE YOU GO AGAIN, MAKING THIS MY FAULT, LIKE THE MANIPULATOR YOU ARE,”

“MANIPULATOR? IF I’M SO MANIPULATIVE WHY DON’T YOU LEAVE ME?”

“I-”

“It’s because you wouldn’t be King anymore isn’t it?” Fit spat, “Did you ever even love me?”

“Of course, mi amor,”

“It doesn’t feel like it… and don't call me that, I know you’ve been cheating,”

“WHAT? HOW COULD YOU ACCUSE ME OF SUCH A THING?”

“I was there when you flirted with Ramon’s adoption lady, I was there when you flirted with the bartender and I was there when you flirted with Ramon’s tutor,”

“Flirting isn’t cheating…”

“Maybe not, but sleeping with somebody is…”

“I haven’t slept with anyone but you,”

“You and I both know that is a lie,”

“I haven’t-”

“Save it for somebody who gives a shit, I know all about your side pieces,”

“Then why don’t you divorce me?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” Fit’s voice cracked. 

“Well, that’s dumb,”

“AND THAT’S EXACTLY HOW I KNOW YOU NEVER LOVED ME,”

“I DID, AND THEN YOU WEREN’T THE SAME, YOU CHANGED, AND NOW YOU ARE PATHETIC,”

“PATHETIC? LOOK AT YOURSELF BEFORE YOU CALL ME PATHETIC,”

“WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?”

“OUT OF THE TWO OF US YOU ARE DEFINITELY THE PATHETIC ONE,”

“AT LEAST I’M NOT LEADING A COUNTRY WITH REBELS ACTIVELY TRYING TO KILL ME!”

“NOBODY IS TRYING TO KILL ME!”

“Shit… yeah,”

“SPREEN, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?”

“I’m going to our room,”

“NO, YOU AREN’T, GET OUT OF MY CASTLE, NOW,”

Fit had many meetings to attend to that day, but he also had to sign his divorce papers, and then find Spreen to hand them over. He was currently reading through them, and signing them himself, Etoiles stood behind him, guarding him as he cried, cried over his lost love, cried over a failed marriage. 

A creek came from the door, Fit’s head rose, as he turned to look at Etoiles, who simply nodded and walked outside, to investigate. Harsh sounds of metal crashing soon arose from outside his office, Fit slowly stood up and picked up his sword, slowly walking across his office, he heard cries of pain, and desperate footsteps running away. 

He opened the door, and there Etoiles’ was, on the floor, bleeding out. Fit immediately bent down, applying pressure to the wound, preventing the man from bleeding out. 

“Fit…” Etoiles gasped.

“Don’t talk,” he commanded.

“It was Spreen,”

“I don’t care, you saved my life, and now I’m saving yours, HELP, SOMEBODY HELP,” 

Many guards rushed to their location quickly, and Etoiles was swiftly taken to the infirmary. Baghera, a newer guard, but somebody Etoiles trusted became his guard in Etoiles’ absence. She also managed to catch Spreen attempting to sneak out of the castle, and brought him before her King.

“His sentence?” Baghera asked.

“He attempted regicide, and stabbed a member of the royal guard, there is only one sentence for that,” Fit cried, “The death sentence,”

“You’d really kill your husband?” Spreen mocked, “You really are the brutal king,”

“Brutal? BRUTAL? I SAVED THIS KINGDOM FROM THE TYRANT, AND THIS IS WHAT I GET A TRAITOROUS EX-HUSBAND,”

“EX-HUSBAND,” 

“SHUT UP!” Baghera yelled, “You do not speak to the King in such a manner,”

“You’d don’t get to tell me-” Spreen retaliated.

Baghera forced his head into the floor, holding him there in the uncomfortable position until he was begging to be released from the hold. She lifted his head slightly, before slamming it down into the floor again. 

“Stop this bitch,”

“At ease soldier,” Fit laughed, grabbing Spreen by the collar, “You do not speak to a woman like that, nor a man, nor a guard, nor a King, you are sentenced to death, so I advise you try to enjoy your last few days alive, locked in the dungeons,”

“There are no dungeons in this castle,” Spreen laughed, “I studied the blueprints, stop bluffing,”

“The dungeons aren’t on the blueprints,”

“They aren’t?” Spreen panicked.

“Of course not, that would be poor planning, Baghera lock him up,”

“Yes my liege, is there any other assistance you require?”

“No, but do make haste to return,”

Spreen’s execution was an event that unfortunately required the presence of both Ramon and Fit, otherwise they both would’ve stayed in the castle. Fit’s executioner, whose identity was unknown, shook his hand, and bowed before walking up to the block. Fit’s attention turned when he saw Spreen being walked up onto the stage in shackles. 

He felt Ramon cling to him, sobs staining his clothes, not that he minded, Ramon could cry all he wanted, despite literally being abused by the man, Ramon having the bruises to prove it, Spreen was still his father, and watching a man you love being executed was not an easy thing. Fit also found it difficult, yet no tears threatened to spill, he looked at peace, neutral, nonchalant yet on the inside he was far from it, inside he was panicking, he was already nicknamed ‘the brutal king’ he didn’t want to be seen as a tyrant. This was the first beheading of his reign, and it was his own husband, and whilst the public were aware that he had attempted regicide, he still felt like he was in the wrong. 

“Dad?” Ramon sobbed.

“Yes, my boy?”

“Can you hug me?” 

“Of course,”

Fit lifted Ramon up, holding him on his waist. Ramon was only three at the age of his father’s execution, but he spoke both Spanish and English, a feat that could only be credited to Spreen… and it would be something that stuck with him for life, no matter how much he tried to forget it. 

“I love you… and don’t you forget it,” Fit whispered.

“Didn’t you love him too?”

“I did… but he tried to kill me,”

“I know dad… I still don’t want him to die,”

“Nor do I, nor do I, but it’s the punishment for the crime,”

“If you had tried to kill him, would you face the same punishment?”

“Yes,”

“Oh…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry you are losing a father,”

“It’s not your fault, it’s Spreen’s,”

Ramon had never called Spreen by his name, always calling him dad, or pa, or some other variation of the title, but never by his name. It hurt a little part of Fit’s heart, but at least he was still calling Fit dad. 

Blood splattered as the axe made contact with Spreen’s head, his eyes covered, Ramon shifted more in Fit’s side, hiding in his shoulder, hiding from reality, hiding from the trauma. He felt Ramon’s unsteady breath on his neck, the poor boy had been through so much at just three years old, Fit was going to make sure he never went through anything like that ever again, but first he had to focus on finding another husband or else he wouldn’t be able to protect Ramon. 

“I will always protect you,” he whispered.

“Really?” Ramon sniffled.

“Yes, nobody else matters to me as much as you do,”

“Why?”

“Because you are my son, heir to the throne of 2b2t, and my whole world,”

Chapter Text

Pac was stunned into silence, he hadn’t realised how horrific Fit’s life had been, and he knew that the man had left out details, probably traumatic ones. They both sat there in silence, after Fit took his final breath of his story. Pac was still wrapped in his arms, leant against his chest. A sharp knock came to the door, and Tubbo called out. Pac jumped up and opened the door, helping Tubbo bring in the food for Fit.

“Doth either of thee require aught else?”

“Não, thank you,” Pac smiled.

Pac held the tray of food and walked over to the bed, placing the tray on Fit’s lap before sitting down in his place in their bed.

“Gosh, we are both fucked up aren’t we?” Fit laughed.

“What meanest thou? Thou hadst someone attempt to take thy life, I had someone seek to execute me. I deem that to be quite common.” Pac joked. 

“Yeah…” Fit smiled, “Thank you for this, and I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay… I promise,”

“You literally got abused, how be this acceptable?”

“You didn’t abuse me,”

“Indeed, but, doth thou not fear the specter of abuse, given the trials thou hast endured in times past?”

“Não, because I survived it, are you?”

“I fear the prospect of mirroring my father... and alas, I seem to have already embarked upon that path. I hold no desire to be perceived as a brutal sovereign, for it paints me as a tyrant, an oppressor, and a man of grim character. I aspire solely to be King Fit; would that not be more befitting?”

“Did you know, Cellbit hath been dubbed ‘King of Peace’?”

“Yes, what about it?”

“I am known as the Cowardly Prince, he who forsook the throne without just cause,”

“What is your point?”

“We, humble subjects, are oft bestowed titles unworthy of our true essence. Cellbit, in his wisdom, doth not claim the mantle of the King of Peace, nor do I, in my station, do not accept the guise of the Cowardly Prince. Thou art not, in truth, the Brutal King. These appellations are thrust upon us by the circumstances of our roles, a burden unjust and unmerited by our noble hearts.”

“Behold, 'twas our shared fate to commence life in humble circumstances, poverty to be specific”

“I was born in a street, where the wretchedness of my circumstances transcended mere poverty.” Pac laughed.

“Doth Richas possess knowledge regarding thy esteemed progenitors?”

“Five years hence, we graciously adopted Richas, then a tender age of three. My esteemed progenitors, both maternal and paternal, as well as my adoptive kin, had departed this mortal realm. None but myself, and now, perchance, Your Grace, are privy to the full measure of my biological lineage,”

“Mike doesn’t know you are related?”

“It’s best that way,”

“Why?”

“Because… I must safeguard Mike. If that necessitates concealing a modest tidbit of information to evoke a joyous countenance in order to shield a more significant secret, then so be it, I shall.

Pac sat on a chair, in Fit’s office, while Fit worked, he was ‘supervising’ to make sure the man didn’t overwork himself, but he had noticed that every so often Fit would swallow one of the anxiety pills, Pac didn’t know how often he was supposed to take them so he didn’t make a comment but it felt too frequent. 

“Pac?”

“Sim?”

“This one needs your signature too,”

“Why? I only recently became king consort, I thought these were older documents,”

“It’s a marriage certificate from the Federation, their marriage laws are different, basically if we ever visit the Federation we aren’t married, unless we sign this,”

“Oh… sure,”

Pac took the quill from Fit’s hand and signed. He hadn’t signed anything officially for a while, he didn’t have to sign much as a prince, and he hadn’t been King for a long time… it being nearly a decade since he had been King of Favela. 

“You alright?” Fit asked.

“Sim, I just haven’t signed my signature like this for years,”

“What do you mean?”

“I was King eight years ago… and I didn’t sign much as a prince so…”

“You might want to get used to it… 2b2t is very fond of you already, and wishes for you to have duties,”

“I’ll happily have duties; I don’t want you overworking yourself again…”

“That isn’t your concern,”

“It very much so is, and you know it,”

Fit sighed, nodding before taking the quill and beginning to sign more documents, in two hours he’d managed to complete about fifty documents, so he was doing well. Pac knew that Fit only had about half an hour more as they had a public event to attend together, which meant dressing up, taking Ramon with them, taking Richas with them, as Pac’s nephew, and acting in love for a few hours. 

“I’m not going to get any more done,”

“Okay,” Pac smiled, “Should we get ready?”

“Yes, also do you know where your crown is, it’s required for this,”

“Uh no… but I think Tubbo does,”

“Okay… he’ll help you get ready then, I’m going to go and help Ramon, does Richarylson need assistance?”

“Não he’ll be fine, I’ll just remind him, also you don’t need to call him by his full name, Richas is fine,”

“Oh okay… Richas it is,”

They arrived at the event in a carriage. Fit wore a black and red suit, a red waistcoat, a black tie, the blazer decorated with red roses, their wedding flower, apparently Niki had picked it out for him, and Pac thought it suited him well. Pac wore a white shirt, with a blue waistcoat covering it, the waistcoat was decorated with silver vines that glistened in the light. His trousers matched the shade of his waistcoat, and he wore silver jewellery, many rings, including his wedding one, and a necklace that couldn’t be seen below his shirt. Ramon wore a long coat, with gold embroidery on the colour, a matching waistcoat, a shirt and trousers. Richas wore a simple green suit, trying not to look too formal, people still couldn’t know that he was a prince. 

Fit stepped out of the carriage and held his hand out, Pac took it with a smile as Fit helped him down from the carriage. Richas and Ramon jumped out of the carriage behind him. Pac hung onto Fit’s flesh arm, as the two walked through a public park, the birds were singing, a graceful melody that was pleasant on Pac’s ears. The event they were attending was a party at a nobles’ house, neither Fit nor Pac really wanted to go but as King and King consort they had to. The event was open to the public, and the manor was huge. 

The public park eventually led to a small path, which in turn led to the courtyard of the mansion, Pac gawked at the pure size of it, sure Fit’s castle was bigger but that was a castle, this was a house. 

“You ready?” Fit whispered in his ear, “People are going to be insufferable,”

“Yeah… Richas fique perto de mim,” (Richas stay close to me)

“Eu não vou sair do seu lado pai” (I won’t leave your side pai)

“Let’s go,” Fit said. 

They walked inside, the mansion had a cold breeze blowing through it, Pac shivered. They walked through to the main room, the host smiling and shaking hands with each new guest.

“Your Majesties, we are most grateful for thy august presence.” Antoine greeted them.

“It is our royal pleasure,” Pac smiled.

“There exists a chamber reserved for the young heirs, as several esteemed nobles have graciously accompanied their own progeny. It is our esteemed belief that they may frolic in harmonious camaraderie.” 

“Pray, might you escort us hence?” Fit asked.

“Of course, follow me,”

Pac sat beside Fit, Fit’s hand rested on his thigh. They were laughing and acting as if they were in love in front of a group of nobles, the party was boring, and honestly one of the worst parties that Pac had ever attended. At one-point Philza whispered something to Fit and Pac watched as his eyes opened wider before he sighed and nodded. 

“Pac?” Fit whispered in his ear, voice low.

“Sim?”

“Uh… apparently people are talking… apparently we aren’t in love enough…”

“What? You literally have your hand on my fucking thigh,”

“Don’t swear somebody could hear you, but also um… Philza suggested I kiss you,”

“Of course he did, it’s as if he wants us to actually be in love,”

“That would make his life easier,”

“Yeah okay, what are we going to do then?”

“Um… probably leave this group, get a drink from the kitchens and I’ll kiss you sort of out of the way but so people can still see us,”

“Okay… when you stand up grab my hand,”

Fit stood up, and announced to the group that he was getting a drink, he asked Pac what he wanted but Pac said he’d just come with him. Fit grabbed his hand, wrapping them together, as he led Pac out of the room. 

There were about five nobles in the kitchen and seven servants, it was enough people, or at least enough in Fit’s opinion, but he immediately pushed Pac against the wall, looked him in the eyes, waiting for a nod, which Pac swiftly gave. 

Fit crashed their lips together, Pac felt warm chapped lips press against his own, he tilted his own head to fit their lips together, like puzzle pieces. He felt Fit’s hands grip his waist, as he moved his own around the older man’s head. There were people watching, they both knew it, but they didn’t stop. Fit’s familiar scent wafted in Pac’s nose, the sweet smell of roses and the warm scent of sandalwood oil. Eventually Fit leaned back, gasping for air, as Pac did the same, Pac didn’t let go and nor did Fit, they just stood staring in each other’s eyes, they had to pretend to be in love.

“PAI!” Richas screamed. 

Pac immediately let go of Fit, pushing past him, many gasps rang out but neither of them cared, Fit followed behind Pac, not that Pac noticed. Pac ran to Richas, who was sitting on the floor crying, many kids surrounding him, Ramon holding his hand. 

“Está tudo bem meu bebê, está tudo bem,” Pac cradled him in his arms. (It's okay my baby, it's okay,)

Richas’ prosthetic leg had broken, Pac wasn’t sure how, but his little boy was scared, hurt and had a few scrapes on his flesh leg too. 

“What happened?” Pac asked Ramon.

“We were playing and they pushed him over, we heard a crack, we think it’s his prosthetic… I’m sorry, I didn’t think,”

“Did you push him over?” Fit asked.

“No, no, of course not,” Ramon defended.

“Then it isn’t your fault,” Pac said.

“Pai Pac, estou com medo, não gosto de não poder andar,” Richas cried. (Pai Pac, I'm scared, I don't like not being able to walk,)

“Está tudo bem, vamos para casa e eu vou consertar isso para você,” (It's okay, let's go home and I'll fix this for you,)

“Mas- mas- este é um evento importante, você não tem que estar aqui?” Richas sniffled. (But- but- this is an important event; don't you have to be here?)

“Não é mais importante que você,” Pac stated, “Fit we need to go home,” (It's not more important than you,)

“Yeah I know, I’ll go tell Philza that we are leaving,”

Pac rushed into the castle, Richas in his arms, still sobbing. Fit immediately told him to follow, which he did, he assumed that man knew where materials were. Fit led him down into a basement, past the dungeons, to a laboratory. Inside stood Tubbo, he was fiddling with some mechanical objects and there was a little girl tugging on his jumper. 

“What is it sun-” Tubbo said, “Oh shit,”

“Tubbo we need your help-” Fit began “Who is that?”

“What do you need, your majesties?”

“Richarlyson’s prosthetic broke, we need you to fix it,” 

“HELL NO, he’s my son I’ll fix it, I built it in the first place, I just need the materials,”

“Okay, okay, you can do it,” 

“I’m sorry pai…”

“Don’t apologise Richas, it isn’t your fault,”

“What do you need Pac? How did it break?”

“The metal casing bent to an unwalkable position, I need to heat the metal and bend it back into shape,”

“Okay I have a heater over there,” Tubbo pointed.

“Thanks,”

Pac rushed off to the heater, his son’s leg in his hands. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Fit lean against the door, watching him. He placed the metal under the heater, put on gloves and began hitting the metal with a hammer. He'd make Richas a new one when he had the time but a functional one would have to do for now. 

“Hey… Richas,” Tubbo whispered. 

“Sim?” the boy wiped his tears.

“Why don’t you talk to Sunny? She’s my daughter and I think you two could be good friends,”

“Okay…”

“Hi! I’m Sunny,” she smiled, “You’re a prince, that’s so cool, I wish I was a princess,”

“It’s kind of cool…”

“You get to dress up so fancy,”

The kids kept talking and eventually Richas was laughing and so was Sunny. Tubbo had walked over to Pac to help him bend the metal back into place, wearing his own set of gloves to deal with the heat. One of the wires that allowed the leg to bend at the knee was trapped between two bent bits, so Pac hit the hammer bending them back and Tubbo used pliers to retrieve it. 

“You’ll have to make a new one soon,” Tubbo said.

“I’ll try tomorrow, but it’s getting late and it takes ages for a new one to function,”

“I could help you; it might cut down some time,”

“Sure… uh, could you hand me the fusing equipment? This piece became detached,”

“Yeah, here you go,”

Pac fused the two pieces of metal together, Tubbo aiding him in any way that he could. Pac smiled at his son’s laughter from behind him, happy that Richas was laughing instead of crying. He could sense Fit’s presence, despite the man being silent, he was still there, watching them. 

“Richas, it’s done,”

“Really?”

“I’ll have to make you a new one soon, but you’ll be able to walk on it, I do suggest you use your crutches though,”

“Okay…”

Dearest journal,

This day commenced with a most gracious beginning, albeit tinged with a measure of strain. I, in an act of rare vulnerability, divulged certain fragments of my storied past unto Fit, and I remain uncertain as to whether such disclosure shall be met with regret. Matters I have not even confided in Mike were entrusted to him. Pray, what compels me to deem him worthy of such revelations? What noble quality doth render him so distinguished?

I diligently observed King Fit, ensuring the esteemed gentleman did not overexert himself in his noble endeavors. With solemn grace, I affixed my royal signature to the sacred matrimonial documents, an act that bestowed upon me a profound revelation. It has been eight years, since I reached the age of twenty, that I last deigned to perform the sacred and official duties.

Upon the unfortunate fracturing of Richarlyson’s prosthetic limb, He was wounded and disheartened, whilst I, in turn, was overcome with trepidation. It is with regret that I fear my preoccupation with the welfare of my beloved son may have marred the delicate courtship with the esteemed Fit. Yet, I hold hope that no offense hath been taken. I was heretofore unaware of Tubbo’s prodigious talent in the crafting of prosthetics, and I am most eager to engage in collaborative endeavors with him.

Dearest Pac,

Fit and Pac sat on their shared bed together. Pac writing in his diary, Fit reading a book, it was honestly quite domestic. Eventually Pac put his pen and journal down, Fit followed suit and put his book down.

“Today was eventful…” Fit broke the silence.

“Yeah…”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,”

“For what?”

“For breaking the illusion of love,”

“Your son cried out for you, I would’ve done the same, you aren’t to blame, besides we kissed and then went to look out for our kids, is that not believable?”

“I suppose… I just didn’t want it to be for nothing, considering you don’t even like kissing me…”

“I don’t dislike it…”

“What?”

“You’re a good kisser, I don’t dislike kissing you, it’s just awkward is all,”

“Am I better than the lesbian who kissed you?”

“Yes, yes you are,” Fit laughed.

“Good, you are better than my last boyfriend for the record,”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah he fucking snitched on Mike and I, like when we were fifteen, we still stole and then the King got very mad, because he 'saved us' we didn't ask to be saved, and it was my mother, not him,”

“Your boyfriend snitched on you?”

“Yeah, I think he got executed though,”

“You executed him for that?”

“NO!”

“Oh, thank goodness, I was going to say, and to think 2b2t was the dangerous kingdom,”

“I think we both know that it’s the Federation,”

“True…”

“Is everything okay?”

“Vague threats and shit, it’s all fine, I’m just concerned,”

“They tried to break off our marriage, and they were entirely correct about the reasoning,”

“I was surprised that you didn’t agree with them, and break it off,”

“I still believed you would’ve attacked Favela at that point,”

“That’s fair…”

“And I won’t divorce you now because of the ten-year rule and Ramon,”

“You couldn’t divorce me anyway, unless I abused you, which I still think I did…”

“You didn’t, you have seen so many people be abused and have been abused yourself, of course you are going to react to things that are similar or resemble abuse,”

“Yeah… you experience it too though, why don’t you react?”

“I did… when you raised your hand I flinched, when I returned to our room I cried, and then I thought about all the abuse I’ve received in my life and realised you never abused me,”

“I don’t want to turn into my father…”

“You won’t,”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because somebody so determined to not be their father, won’t be,”

“How’s Richas feeling?”

“Better, he’s annoyed because he can’t run, but I’ll make him a new prosthetic soon,”

“He’ll need a new one before Cellbit’s wedding,”

“It’ll be done by then, I’ll start it tomorrow,”

“Tubbo will assist you, he’s worked on my prosthetics since I met him,

“Why do you treat him as a servant and not a friend?”

“That’s just the way it is, he’s a lower status than me, I don’t want to force myself to not become friends with people, but I have to,”

“You should try becoming friends with him, there is no 2b2t law against it, it’s just societal pressures for a King, maybe you should ignore them,”

“What like you did?”

“Exactly, besides Tubbo is really nice, and I think you’d make great friends,”

“Maybe, I’ll speak to him, I also need to speak to him about that girl-”

“Don’t be mad at him,”

Chapter Text

They were in Favela, it had officially been a month since their wedding, and they had travelled from 2b2t to Favela. They had been husbands for a month. It was crazy to think about, but they weren’t here to celebrate their marriage. Fit stopped out of the carriage holding Ramon in his arms, Pac followed suit, holding Richas. It had been a long journey and the two kids were exhausted. Cellbit, Roier, Bagi, Mike and Felps all stood in the courtyard, to greet them

Pac handed Richas to Felps, who immediately turned away and walked towards the castle. Fit shifted Ramon from one hip to the other, watching as Pac was squashed in hugs from his family, the sight made him smile, somebody who grew up without anybody had a family, one who loved him, but the thought immediately turned sour as he realised that he took Pac away from his family. 

“So…” Cellbit said, “You know about Richas?”

“Yeah,” Fit said, “Fret not, for I, shall not divulge such intelligence to the common folk,”

“Thank you, is your son okay?”

“He is weary, as is your esteemed son. I would be most pleased to escort him to his chambers forthwith, if it pleases Your Grace.”

“Of course, Jvnq, wouldst thou be so kind as to escort His Royal Highness Prince Ramon to his chambers?” Cellbit asked.

“Sure,” a servant stepped forwards, Fit assumed it was Jvnq.

“Wouldst thou kindly escort Philza to the chamber of Ramon?” Fit asked.

“Of course,” Jvnq smiled. 

“Before I take my leave, does Your Majesty require anything further?” Philza asked.

“No thank you,”

“It’s nice to see you again King Fit,” Roier smiled, shaking his head.

“You too, Prince Roier,”

“Well, I had to invite you to my wedding, after all you invited me to yours,”

“Okay,” Cellbit interrupted, “I regret that I must decline further discourse, for I am compelled to attend the organisation of the royal chambers. Pac is to be reinstated in his former quarters, whilst Roier shall remain in the guest chambers until such time as our nuptials have commenced. As for King Fit-”

“Cellbit, dividimos uma cama no 2b2t, ele pode dividir comigo, está tudo bem,” Pac smiled. (Cellbit, we share a bed in 2b2t, he can share with me, it's okay,)

“Você divide a cama com ele? Você é louca?” Mike gasped. (Do you share a bed with him? Are you crazy?)

“Sim, eu sou louco,” Pac deadpanned, “Não, é só para que as pessoas não saibam,” (Yes, I am crazy, No, it's just so people don't know,)

“I guess, Fit you’ll share with Pac,” Cellbit sighed. 

Fit stood awkwardly in the corner of Pac’s bedroom, he had never seen the inside, having never ventured inside last time he was in Favela, but this was his room temporarily. Pac was in the bathroom, getting changed for bed. They had arrived in Favela at quite a late hour, late enough that Fit expected all the staff to have already been sleeping, only to be informed by Pac that the staff went to sleep at five in the morning, his waking hour, and that the early hours of the morning in Favela were quiet. 

Pac exited the bathroom, and Fit went inside, changing himself before walking back into Pac’s room. Mike was inside, handing him some things, Fit assumed it was items for the wedding, they were there for a few days before, so Fit assumed they wouldn’t be involved in wedding preparations for at least a day, but never mind. 

“Você tem certeza de que quer dividir a cama com ele?” Mike asked. (Are you sure you want to share a bed with him?)

“I’m sure Mikey,” Pac smiled, “What time is breakfast?”

“Same time as it always is,” Mike deadpanned.

“Uh…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten, you’ve only been gone a month!”

“Two,” Fit whispered.

“It’s been two?” Mike gasped.

“Yeah…” Pac sighed, “Breakfast is around five to seven in the morning depending on the day in 2b2t,”

“CINCO?”

“Sim,” Pac laughed, “It’s not too bad,”

“Don’t lie, you complained your entire first week,” Fit laughed.

“Don’t embarrass me in front of my brother,” Pac giggled.

“Breakfast is at ten, if you get hungry go to the kitchens-”

“I’m still the prince of Favela, I don’t need to know the rules, I just forgot the times,”

“I’m leaving now,” Mike suddenly stated.

“Okay…”

Pac collapsed onto the bed, groaning. It was clear that he was exhausted, Fit was too, they’d travelled for around two days straight without stopping, the servants took shifts sleeping, and they slept in the tiny carriage, obviously prioritising Ramon and Richarlyson’s sleep. 

“Are you okay?” Fit asked.

“Tired… annoyed,”

“Annoyed?”

“Mikey is acting different, his mood has shifted every single time I’ve seen him, from the day I left, to my wedding, to now, it’s all different and it’s confusing,”

“Oh…”

“And then Cellbit is avoiding me, he won’t look in my eyes,”

“Bagi? Felps?”

“I haven’t had the chance to see Felps, but Bagi, she’s so busy, she can’t focus on me she’s focussed on planning Cellbit’s wedding,”

“Oh…”

“It’s alright, there’s always tomorrow,”

“Are you ready for bed?”

“Yep!”

Fit sat down on the bed, as Pac lay down. Fit blew out the candle that rested on his nightstand, before laying down too. Pac shuffled into his arms, and they both slowly drifted off to sleep.

Fit woke up the next morning to harsh knocking at the door, Pac was still wrapped up in his arms, waking up slowly. The man in his arms grumbled, exhausted from the day prior’s journey. Pac turned over, to face Fit, yet he had his eyes closed. In that moment Fit only thought one thing, how pretty Pac looked, before his thoughts were drowned out by the sudden entrance of Mike. 

“Pac, demorou muito tempo para atender a porta e-” Mike entered, pausing upon looking at the bed. (Pac, you took too long to answer the door and-)

“Mikey?” Pac grumbled. 

“Oh…uh…I didn’t realise you were still sleeping,”

“Pray tell, Mikey, what prompts thy hasty entrance within?”

“Forsooth, Cellbit finds himself in a most tumultuous state, and in this hour, he doth require thy assistance.,”

“His esteem for me hath waned henceforth...” Pac grumbled.

“Such a notion is utterly unfounded!” Mike defended. 

“Pray tell, why doth he refuse to meet mine gaze?”

“I- I-”

“Pray, Mike, do utter it forthwith.” Fit spat.

“What?”

“Cellbit doth avert thine gaze, for he is plagued by the pangs of guilt, having the fortune to wed the love of his life whilst Pac, alas, remains entangled in my company.,”

“Thats-”

“Mikey, do not utter falsehoods,” Pac stated.

“Indeed, it is verily true; however-”

“He shall not desire to behold my presence, especially not in solitude.”

“Pac, we are at a loss as to how we ought to proceed.”

“Summon Richas forth, compel Cellbit to devote his hours alongside Richas; dost thou inquire if Bobby doth presently reside within the castle?” 

“Sim,”

“Thereupon, compel Cellbit to bestow his time upon Richas and Bobby.”

“Por que?”

“Forsooth, it shall divert his attention, drawing him ever closer to his progeny; it shall evoke cherished memories of kinship and the profound affection he harbors for Roier.,”

“Obrigado, I expect to see you at breakfast,”

“What time is it?” Fit asked. 

“Approximately the ninth hour, Prince Ramon does presently find himself in the esteemed company of Lady Cherry, Prince Bobby, and Prince Richas.”

“Cherry?” 

“Ah… The fair Cherry is the esteemed tutor of Richas; she is indeed a most charming lady,” Pac smiled.

“Okay,” Fit smiled, “I’m going to go get changed,”

Fit’s hand was warm, warm as he held Pac’s hand in his. The two of them were walking to breakfast together. They had stopped many times, due to Pac greeting his old servants, and saying how much he missed them. Apparently Richas and Ramon had already had breakfast, and that they were going to an adult only breakfast. 

The door creaked as Pac pushed it open. Pac led him to a chair, which he happily took his place in. At the head of the table sat Cellbit, Roier to his right, Bagi to his left. Mike sat next to Bagi, then Pac, then Fit himself. Opposite Mike sat a woman that Fit recognised, she was the handmaiden to Roier, but he couldn’t recall her name. Next to the handmaiden sat King Foolish, King Vegetta and Princess Leonarda. 

After a while servants began to bring food out, Fit sat silently, and watched as Pac thanked every single servant, something that Fit had noticed him do in 2b2t too. He smiled, watching his husband interact with everyone. 

“My sincerest gratitude to each and every one of you for gracing us with your esteemed presence,” Cellbit smiled. 

“Thank you,” Roier repeated, “It doth signify much, particularly unto thee, King Fit and King Pac,”

“Indeed, we are most assuredly present, for Cellbit is a brother to me; I would not forsake this occasion for all the riches in the realm.”

“I’m glad,” Roier smiled, “It is evident that he hath been yearning for thy presence.”

“I’ve missed you too Cell,” Pac smiled, yet Cellbit did not meet his eye. 

“The feeling is reciprocated,” Cellbit responded, “Yet, we ought to rejoice rather than lament the time that has slipped away,”

“This forthcoming weekend shall be a grand occasion for festivity, whereupon we all ought to revel in the celebration of your esteemed union.” Foolish smiled.

“I extend my heartfelt gratitude, dearest father,” Roier smiled. 

“I extend to you all a gracious invitation to partake in a splendid banquet.” Cellbit smiled. 

Everyone began to eat. Fit watched as Pac smiled, enjoying the food of his home country, it was clear Pac preferred it to what was made in 2b2t, and Fit couldn’t blame him, the cuisine was splendid.

“Pray, wouldst thou care to accompany me to the place of mine upbringing?” Pac whispered.

“An esteemed promenade throughout the castle grounds?” Fit questioned.

“Nay, nay, the esteemed orphanage—wouldst thou care to behold the orphanage?”

“Sure, I’d love to,”

“Art thou agreeable with Ramon remaining in the esteemed company of Lady Cherry?”

“Shouldst thou place thy trust in Richas regarding her, I shall presume that all shall be well with Ramon,”

“Nice to know you trust me,” Pac grinned. 

“Of course I do,”

“Moreover, I must procure the esteemed recipe for this, that it may be returned to the realm of 2b2t, wherein the chefs ought to be enlightened by this knowledge,”

“Verily, pursue thy desires, if it shall bring thee greater ease and comfort,”

Fit followed Pac, along many dirt roads, they rode a carriage to a main town but Pac told him they had to walk to Copacabana lane, as there were no roads throughout it. Fit shoes were caked in mud, as were Pac’s but his less so as he knew the dance to avoid the mud. 

“Come on Fitche, I want to see Sra. Maria again!”

“Fitche?”

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, it’s how I’d pronounce your name in my natural accent and-”

“It’s okay Pac, don’t worry, you can call me Fitch if that makes it easier,”

“Really?”

“Yeah,”

“Anyway, I really want to see Sra. Maria again, I know she still works there, and she was so nice throughout my time there, and I want the little kids to know that they are loved,”

“You told me about her didn’t you?”

“Sim! She was there when I met Mikey for the first time,”

“You’re so excited, it’s kind of cute,”

“Cute? Fofo?”

“Fofo?”

“Sim, it means cute, you think I’m cute?”

“Sometimes…”

“We have to get going, and um… oh… you have mud all over you,”

“Uh yeah, so do you, we walked through a whole path full of mud,”

“It’s fine, I’m sure the orphanage will have spare trousers,”

“Should we take from the orphanage? That feels wrong?”

“Don’t worry, they are my trousers, I donate regularly, so I keep spare clothes there for when I visit,”

“Oh…”

Pac grabbed his hand, and began to sprint off, dragging Fit along. The town they ran through was poor, and rundown. The houses were made of wood and nails, they all had thatched roofs. The orphanage however, looked even more run down. The roof was falling apart, the windows smashed, and the door was broken, and forced to be open. Pac ran inside, pulling Fit up the stairs, nearly tripping him up. 

“Sra. Maria!” he exclaimed upon seeing the woman. 

“Pac, como vai?” she smiled. (How are you?)

“I find myself in splendid spirits; allow me to introduce my husband, His Majesty King Fit of the venerable realm of 2b2t.”

“Alas, thou art now a King! My heart brims with pride for thee,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Fit held his hand out for her to shake, which she eagerly reciprocated. 

“Oh, Pac, the youthful ones are most eagerly anticipating thy glorious return; Trump and Tilin have implored fervently for thy swift return,”

“They are most delightful; prithee, dear Fit, I am certain they shall be enraptured to make thy acquaintance, for they have never before encountered a King.,”

“Were you not, in truth, a King prior to our union in matrimony?”

“Indeed, verily not within the span of their mortal existence,”

“Okay…”

“Pray, Maria, how fares the acquisition of funds for this establishment?” Pac asked.

“Verily, there is but little to impart; the children are nourished and possess their resting quarters, yet naught else may I provide, for thou art the sole benefactor,”

“Sole benefactor?” Fit asked, “Dare I inquire, do nobility not bestow their generous alms with regularity?”

“It is not within our capacity to compel individuals to partake in such actions,” Maria sighed.

“In the realm of 2b2t, it is decreed that one must bestow no less than ten percent of their earnings per lunar cycle,”

“QUE?” Pac gasped, “To orphanages?”

“Nay, to any institution in need of patronage, such as orphanages, academies, hospitals, and the like,”

“Verily, that would undoubtedly prove most beneficial.” Maria laughed.

“Why dost thou not confer with Cellbit regarding the matter?” Fit asked.

“I no longer possess any sovereign authority over Favela,”

“I was led to believe that thou wert still the prince,”

“Pray, hold a moment; I remain a prince, capable of conversing with him... yet I harbour doubts that he shall desire to receive my presence,”

“You’ll have to see him eventually,”

“That’s a thought for another day; Maria could we see the child please?”

“Of course, follow me,”

They followed Maria through the orphanage, into a room full of children, with about twenty, if Fit counted correctly. Most of them looked malnourished, and were in scrappy clothes, but they were better off than the children that Fit had seen on the streets, so that was something. 

“PRÍNCIPE PAC!” One of the boys yelled. (PRINCE PAC!)

“Olá!” Pac waved.

“Na verdade é o Rei Pac agora,” Maria laughed. (It’s actually King Pac now)

“Que é aquele?” a boy asked. (Who is that?)

“Esse é meu marido, Rei Fit de 2b2t,” (This is my husband, King Fit from 2b2t,)

“Olá majestade,” one of the boys bowed to Fit. (Hello your majesty)

“Oh… I’m sorry I don’t speak Portuguese,” Fit stuttered, feeling embarrassed.

“That’s okay, we speak English,” a little boy squeaked. 

“Who’s this?” Pac pointed to a little boy wearing a red and white striped top.

“I’m Pepito,”

“Hello Pepito, are you new?”

“Sim!”

“We found him on the border between Favela and Fools,” Maria said.

“Wow, can you speak Spanish too?” Pac asked, kneeling down to his level.

“Yes, I can! Can you?”

“Yes,”

“You’re so cool, I wish I could be a prince,” 

“Maybe one day you could be,”

“I’m confused,”

“You know King Cellbit and Prince Roier are getting married soon,”

“Of course,”

“Well… they might want to adopt, or another Kingdom’s royalty might want to, or maybe they won’t but in any circumstance you’ll still be special Pepito,”

“Your right King Pac,” the boy smiled, “Pepito is special,”

“There’s certainly a lot more of you here than last time I visited, where is A1?”

“They aged out…” Maria sighed, “The streets weren’t kind to them…”

“They-” Pac frowned. 

“Unfortunately, yes…”

“But they were only-”

“They reached eighteen Pac, there was nothing more I could do, you know the owner…”

Fit wrapped an arm around Pac, the other man immediately turned to him, hugging him, and crying into his shoulder. Fit was stunned, but eventually wrapped his arms around Pac tightly, as he cried, the other kids watching them, some of the eldest, or the ones who were there the longest shedding a tear for A1 too. 

“I am going to speak to Cellbit,” he decided.

“Really?” Maria asked.

“Sim, he has to listen to me, I’m his brother, I’m a prince and a king, I was also an orphan myself, he’ll have to listen and if he doesn’t, I’ll speak to Roier,”

“Do you want to go back to the castle?” Fit whispered.

“Não, I want to stay here and help look after the little kids for a while, why do you want to go back?”

“I’m happy to do whatever Pac, as long as you're okay,”

“I’m fine,” he turned his attention to the kids, “So… what have you all been learning in school recently?”

“Sra. Maria taught me my times tables,” Tilin grinned. 

“She taught me some Spanish,” Juannaflippa smiled.

Chapter Text

Pac was fed up. He was fed up with Cellbit avoiding him. He was fed up with Mike's mood changes. He was fed up with Bagi being too busy to see him. He was fed with Felps not being his guard, he just wanted his friend back. He was fed up. Somehow, throughout it all, he had a support system, somebody who he didn’t expect, Fit EmCee. The man he was forced to marry, he never imagined he would find comfort in him, and yet he felt safe in the hug that Fit gave him, when he discovered A1’s death. He had arranged to meet with Cellbit, Fit was currently in his old room, so he’d be alone, alone with Cellbit and hopefully not Roier. He loved Roier, don’t get him wrong, but this was a conversation that they needed to have one on one. 

Pac walked through the corridor, the dim lights of candles leading his way. It was around ten pm, so the sun had set a while ago. He walked to Cellbit’s office. He knew the way, when he was still in Favela he spent half his time there, aiding Cellbit with whatever duties. Pac knocked on the door, and waited. A voice called out, allowing him to enter. He closed the door behind him and turned to face Cellbit. 

“Você queria conversar?” Cellbit asked, still not meeting his eye. (Did you want to talk?)

“Por que você está me evitando?” Pac interrogated, deciding not to waste time. (Why are you avoiding me?)

“Eu não sou-” (I’m not-)

“Você está, não negue, você está me evitando, você se recusa a me olhar nos olhos, o que eu fiz?” (You are, don't deny it, you're avoiding me, you refuse to look me in the eyes, what have I done?)

“O que você fez?” Cellbit laughed, “Você não fez nada,” (What did you do? You did nothing)

“Então por que você está me evitando?” Pac’s voice cracked slightly. (So why are you avoiding me?)

“Não quero ter essa conversa…” (I don’t want to have this conversation…)

“Por favor, Cellbit, por favor, eu só quero saber o que eu fiz para te irritar,” (Please Cellbit, please, I just want to know what I did to piss you off,)

“VOCÊ NÃO FEZ NADA, apenas deixe isso pra lá… por favor,” (YOU DID NOTHING, just let it go… please,)

“Claramente eu fiz alguma coisa…” (Clearly I did something…)

“Não é você,” (It’s not you)

“E então? Somos irmãos, você pode me contar qualquer coisa, ou pelo menos eu pensei que éramos…” (So what? We're brothers, you can tell me anything, or at least I thought we were…)

“Por que eu posso me casar com o amor da minha vida? Mas você está condenada a uma eternidade com ele-” (Why can I marry the love of my life? But you are condemned to an eternity with him-)

“Cellbit é-” (Cellbit it’s-)

“NÃO, não, deixe-me terminar, por favor,” (NO, no, let me finish, please,)

“Vá em frente,” (Go ahead)

“Eu vou me casar com Roier, ser feliz com meus filhos, você está preso em um país estrangeiro, falando uma língua que não é a sua, incapaz de encontrar o amor, sem seus filhos, eu- eu-, deveria ter sido eu, eu sou o rei, eu deveria ter assumido o fardo,” (I'm going to marry Roier, be happy with my children, you're stuck in a foreign country, speaking a language that's not yours, unable to find love, without your children, I- I-, it should have been me, I'm the king, I should have taken on the burden,)

“O QUÊ? NÃO! ABSOLUTAMENTE NÃO!”

“Pac-”

“NÃO, você tem um amante, eu não tinha, eu não tenho, você não deveria ter desistido de sua chance de amar, eu sou mais velho, é meu fardo para carregar,” (NO, you have a lover, I didn't, I don't, you shouldn't have given up your chance at love, I'm older, it's my burden to bear,)

“Eu sou rei, você é um príncipe de merda, ou pelo menos você era, você não queria ser rei e aí está você, você é um rei... você não merecia isso,” (I'm a king, you're a fucking prince, or at least you were, you didn't want to be a king and there you are, you're a king... you didn't deserve this,)

“Cellbit… Eu não renunciei ao trono porque não queria ser rei, mas não é esse o ponto, você tem alguém para amar e estou incrivelmente orgulhoso de você… todos nós temos deveres e casar com Fit era meu dever, para o rei e para o país,” (Cellbit… I didn't give up the throne because I didn't want to be king, but that's not the point, you have someone to love and I'm incredibly proud of you… we all have duties and marrying Fit was my duty, to king and country,)

“Não está certo,” (It’s not right)

“Bem, agora está feito, estou casado,” (Well, now it's done, I'm married,)

“Tentei encontrar uma brecha, mas não consegui encontrar nenhuma.” (I tried to find a loophole, but I couldn't find any.)

“Desistir,” (Give up)

“O que?”

“Desistir,”

“Mas-”

“Desistir,”

“Você quer continuar casado com um tirano sedento de poder?” (Do you want to stay married to a power-hungry tyrant?)

“Ele não é um tirano... ele não tem fome de poder e é gentil,” (He is not a tyrant... he is not power hungry and he is kind,)

“Pac, você não pode realmente acreditar nisso, ele literalmente te forçou a se casar com ele por causa do poder,” (Pac, you can't really believe this, he literally forced you to marry him because of power)

“ELE ME FORÇOU A CASAR COM ELE PARA PROTEGER SEU FILHO!” Pac yelled. (HE FORCED ME TO MARRY HIM TO PROTECT HIS SON!)

“O que?”

“Existe uma regra em 2b2t, significa que se um rei ou rainha estiver no trono por dez anos sem um parceiro, eles são forçados a renunciar ao trono... o que significa que Ramon teria sido forçado a assumir... ele estava protegendo seu filho, e eu o respeito por isso,” (There is a rule in 2b2t, it means that if a king or queen is on the throne for ten years without a partner, they are forced to give up the throne... which means Ramon would have been forced to take over... he was protecting his son, and I respect him for that,)

“O que?”

“Sim... ele não tinha escolha, quem se casaria com o homem intitulado como um bruto ou um tirano? Ele tinha que ameaçar,” (Yes... he had no choice, who would marry the man titled as a brute or a tyrant? He had to threaten,)

“Pac…”

“O que?”

“Eu- eu- só, eu não consigo tirar isso da minha cabeça, você tendo seu destino por minha causa,” (I- I- I just, I can't get it out of my head, you having your fate because of me,)

“Não é por sua causa…” (It's not because of you…)

“Mas é…”

“Cellbit-”

“Pac-”

“Eu sou seu irmão mais velho, não fale assim comigo,” Pac teased. (I'm your older brother, don't talk to me like that,)

“E eu sou seu rei,” (And I am your king)

“Não mais... espera, merda, desculpe, eu não quis dizer isso,” (Not anymore… wait, shit, sorry, I didn't mean that,)

“Tudo bem, você não disse nada que não fosse verdade, você poderia ir embora agora? Tenho coisas agendadas com Roier,” (Okay, you didn't say anything that wasn't true, could you leave now? I have things scheduled with Roier)

“Claro, majestade,” Pac bowed. (Of course, your majesty)

“Não ouse, porra,” Cellbit wheezed through laughter. (Don't you fucking dare)

“O quê? Não tenho permissão para chamar sua alteza real pelo título?” (What? I'm not allowed to call your royal highness by your title?)

Pac sat on the sofa, leaning against Fit, whilst they watched over their boys playing together. It was bittersweet, watching them play, because soon they’d be separated, and Ramon couldn’t stay in Favela like Richas had stayed in 2b2t. There were many servants in the room, so they were acting as if they were in love, but at this point Pac wasn’t even uncomfortable, it was all an act, sure, but it was an act he played with a friend, so what if they hugged and kissed, they could be friends. 

“How’d the talk go?” Fit whispered in his ear, his deep voice causing a shiver to run down Pac’s spine.

“It went alright… could’ve gone better, could’ve gone worse,”

“Are you going to talk to Mike?”

“Sim… I think I have to, but I don’t want to… not soon at least,”

“Do it in your own time, nobody is forcing you to do anything,”

“Suas majestades,” a servant that Pac recognised as Febatista spoke. (Your majesties)

“Sim?” 

“Uh… A Princesa Bagi está solicitando sua presença, algo a ver com o casamento,” (Uh… Princess Bagi is requesting your presence, something to do with the wedding,)

“Obrigado Febatista,” 

“What’s going on?” Fit asked. 

“Come on Fitche, we are going to see Bagi,”

From the minute Pac walked into Bagi’s office, yes she had one despite not being queen, he could tell she was stressed. She was muttering to herself in rapid Portuguese, to the point where none of the servants, nor Pac, could comprehend what she was saying, and nobody could get her to calm down. 

Pac gave Fit a look, one that he prayed the older man would understand, and thank the gods he did. Fit left the room, opting to stay standing right outside, but before he left he instructed all other servants to leave, allowing Pac to be alone with Bagi, who was constantly muttering, unable to stop. 

“Bagi?”

“Não posso falar agora, estou ocupado,” (I can't talk now, I'm busy)

“Bagi Lange, se você não me reconhecer agora mesmo-” (Bagi Lange, if you don't acknowledge me right now-)

“Pac?”

“Você não sabia que era eu?” (Didn't you know it was me?)

“Não, eu, hum... não olho para cima há algum tempo,” (No, I, um... haven't looked up in a while.)

“Você vai machucar seu pescoço e suas costas,” (You will hurt your neck and back,)

“Amanhã é o casamento do Cellbit, tem que ser perfeito,” (Tomorrow is Cellbit's wedding, it has to be perfect,)

“Eu sei, eu sei, mas sua saúde importa mais, agora sente-se ereta, como uma boa princesa,” (I know, I know, but your health matters more, now sit up straight, like a good princess,)

“Não me ridicularize, você nunca agiu como um verdadeiro príncipe,” (Don't ridicule me, you never acted like a real prince)

“Eu não sou um príncipe de verdade, cresci em um orfanato e fui para a prisão, tenho certeza de que sou o primeiro príncipe e agora rei a fazer isso, mas você foi colocado no trono por deuses e deusas,” (I'm not a real prince, I grew up in an orphanage and went to prison, I'm pretty sure I'm the first prince and now king to do this, but you were put on the throne by gods and goddesses)

“Ok, ok, desisto, mas Cellbit é quem está no trono, não eu,” (Okay, okay, I give up, but Cellbit is the one on the throne, not me,)

“E você estará agindo como rainha quando ele for para a lua de mel,” (And you'll be acting like a queen when he goes on his honeymoon)

“É verdade… Você foi em lua de mel?” (It's true... Did you go on your honeymoon?)

“Não, 2b2t é um país muito movimentado para isso,” (No, 2b2t is too busy a country for that)

“Essa é a razão?” (That’s the reason?)

“Sim, por que mais?” (Yes, why else?)

“O fato de você e Fit não estarem apaixonados,” (The fact that you and Fit are not in love,)

“Ah merda… sim, não, isso também,” (Oh shit… yeah, no that too,)

“Pac… tem alguma coisa que você não está me contando?” (Pac… is there something you’re not telling me?)

“Não-”

“Pac…”

“Não, eu prometo,” (No, I promise)

“Pac Tazer- Pac EmCee…”

“Eu não sei... ele é gostoso e legal, claro que tivemos discussões, mas é a vida...” (I don't know... he's hot and nice, sure we’ve had arguments, but that's life…)

“Sério? Você gosta do seu captor?” (Seriously? Do you like your captor?)

“Ele não é meu captor, não se refira a ele assim, e talvez...” (He's not my captor, don't refer to him like that, and maybe…)

“Pac… ele forçou você a se casar,” (Pac… he forced you to marry,)

“Por uma razão válida,” (For a valid reason)

“O poder não é válido-” (Power isn’t valid-)

“Não foi esse o motivo…” (That wasn't the reason…)

“Então o que foi?” (So, what was it?)

“Uma velha lei 2b2t, ele fez isso para proteger Ramon, mas isso não importa agora, sua saúde é o mais importante, então vamos buscar comida para você, encontrar Tina e hum... tirar você deste escritório abafado,” (An old 2b2t law, he did it to protect Ramon, but that doesn't matter now, your health is the most important thing, so let's get you some food, find Tina and um... get you out of this stuffy office,)

Pac was exhausted, he had been playing with Ramon and Richas for the past hour, whilst everyone else did official duties, including Fit, he got free reign to do what he wanted which was nice, but those two kids could run fast, and Richas had a prosthetic like him. 

“Ramon, Richas, how are you so fast?” Pac complained.

“You're just slow pai!” Richas laughed.

“If Richas can do it, so can you,” Ramon grinned, before yawning.

“Are you getting tired?” Pac asked, voice laced with concern.

“Yeah… the sun set a while ago, I was wondering why we weren’t being put to bed yet,”

“Ah, in Favela we stay up later at night than in 2b2t, if you want you can go to bed now though,”

“I don’t know the way to my room…”

“Do you know what room you are staying in?”

“Uh… the green one?”

“He’s staying in the west wing, room three,” Richas smirked.

“Ah… yeah I can take you Ramon,”

“Could you carry me?” he asked softly, eyes drooping. 

“Sure, neném, are you okay to walk?”

“Sim,”

Pac lent down and scooped Ramon up into his arms. The little boy wrapped his arms around Pac, clinging to him like a koala. Richas followed them from behind. Pac navigated his way through the castle, he had spent eighteen years in it, he knew it like the back of his hand. Ramon’s grip on him softened as the little boy fell asleep in his arms, his breathing softened and he rested his head on Pac’s shoulder. Richas grabbed onto Pac’s hoodie as a rush of servants walked past, Pac looked down towards his son, then looked towards his other son, he smiled, his two boys. 

Eventually he reached Ramon’s room, a guard was currently posted outside, Pac smiled at them before walking inside, and laying Ramon down. Richas stood by his side. Pac opened Ramon’s travel bag and brought out his pyjamas, before laying them out on the bed. 

“Ramon,” Pac whispered, waking the boy gently. 

“Yeah…” he rubbed his eyes.

“You need to change into your pyjamas, and then you can go to bed,”

“But dad isn’t here to sing my lullaby,”

“That’s okay, pai can sing you one!” Richas suggested.

“Would you?” Ramon asked, slowly picking up his clothes.

“Sure, get changed in the bathroom, Richas and I will be here waiting,”

Ramon got changed while Pac and Richas sat down at the end of the bed, waiting for him. Once Ramon returned, Pac tucked him under the covers and began to hum and lullaby softly, Ramon was quick to fall asleep but he didn’t stop singing, as he could see Richas slowly nod off too.

“That was beautiful,” a voice came from the door.

“Fitche!” Pac squealed quickly, embarrassed that the man had heard him sing, “You weren’t supposed to hear that,”

“Why?”

“It’s embarrassing,”

“Don’t be embarrassed, you have a beautiful voice, I may not know a single word of what you said but… it’s beautiful,”

“Why are you here?”

“I came to say goodnight to my boy,”

“Oh- I’m sorry, he was tired so I carried him here and-”

“You carried him?”

“Sim, he said he was tired, and he fell asleep in my arms, but I woke him to change,”

“Thank you,”

“O que?”

“Thank you, Ramon doesn’t trust many people like that,”

“What?”

“Since Spreen… Philza, Etoiles, Niki and I are the only people he’ll sleep around, but I guess you’ve been added to the list,”

“Tubbo too,”

“What?”

“He fell asleep on Tubbo during my first week in 2b2t,”

“He did?”

“Sim,”

“POR QUE O 2B2T É MELHOR QUE O FAVELA?” Cellbit’s words cut deep. (WHY IS 2B2T BETTER THAN FAVELA?)

“EU NUNCA DISSE ISSO,” (I NEVER SAID THAT,)

“PAC, PELO AMOR DE DEUS, POR QUE VOCÊ VIRA AS COSTAS PARA NÓS EM FAVOR DESSA COISA?” Bagi yelled. (PAC, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHY DO YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON US FOR THIS THING?)

“ELE NÃO É UMA COISA,” (HE IS NOT A THING)

“ELE TEM SÍNDROME DE ESTOCOLMO! ELE NÃO TEM ESPERANÇA!” Mike screamed. (HE HAS STOCKHOLM SYNDROME! HE HAS NO HOPE!)

“EU NÃO TENHO SÍNDROME DE ESTOCOLMO, EU NÃO O AMO, EU POSSO SER AMIGÁVEL COM ELE E NÃO AMÁ-LO,” (I DON'T HAVE STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, I DON'T LOVE HIM, I CAN BE FRIENDLY WITH HIM AND NOT LOVE HIM)

“ELE TE MACHUCOU!” Cellbit cried. (HE’S HURT YOU)

“ELE NUNCA PÔS A MÃO EM MIM,” (HE NEVER PUT HIS HAND ON ME)

“MAS ELE IRIA,” Felps argued. (BUT HE WAS GOING TO) 

“EU NUNCA DEVERIA TER TE DITO ISSO,” (I NEVER SHOULD’VE TOLD YOU THAT)

“O QUE SIGNIFICA FELPS?” Cellbit asked, “EU TE DAREI CINCO SEGUNDOS,” (WHAT DOES FELPS MEAN? I WILL GIVE YOU FIVE SECONDS)

“CINCO SEGUNDOS OU O QUÊ? VOCÊ VAI ME EXECUTAR? VOCÊ NÃO TEM JURISDIÇÃO, VOCÊ VAI ME EXCURSAR DA FAVELA? VAI EM FRENTE EU NÃO MORO MAIS AQUI,” (FIVE SECONDS OR WHAT? ARE YOU GOING TO EXECUTE ME? YOU HAVE NO JURISDICTION, ARE YOU GOING TO EXCUSE ME FROM THE FAVELA? GO AHEAD I DON'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE)

“FIT E ELE TIVERAM UMA DISCUSSÃO, FIT LEVANTOU A MÃO, MAS NÃO O BATEU DE FATO, MAS PAC O PERDOO FACILMENTE,” Felps yelled. (FIT AND HIM HAD AN ARGUMENT, FIT RAISED HIS HAND BUT DIDN'T ACTUALLY HIT HIM, BUT PAC FORGAVE HIM EASILY)

“O QUE ESSE HOMEM FEZ COM VOCÊ? VOCÊ PREFERE 2B2T AO INVÉS DA FAVELA, VOCÊ O DEFENDE, VOCÊ SE IMPORTA COM O FILHO DELE AO INVÉS DO SEU-” Cellbit stated. (WHAT DID THIS MAN DO TO YOU? YOU PREFER 2B2T OVER THE FAVELA, YOU DEFEND HIM, YOU CARE ABOUT HIS SON OVER YOURS-)

“NUNCA DIGA ISSO, PORRA!” Pac snapped, “RICHARLYSON É MEU FILHO, EU O AJUDEI COM A PERNA, EU O ENCONTREI SOZINHO NO ORFANATO, EU O AJUDEI A DESENVOLVER SEUS INTERESSES,” (NEVER EVER SAY THAT, DAMMIT! RICHARLYSON IS MY SON, I HELPED HIM WITH HIS LEG, I FOUND HIM ALONE IN THE ORPHANAGE, I HELPED HIM DEVELOP HIS INTERESTS,)

“VOCÊ ESTÁ DIZENDO QUE ELE NÃO É NOSSO FILHO TAMBÉM?” Mike asked. (ARE YOU SAYING HE'S NOT OUR SON TOO?)

“QUANDO EU DISSE ISSO? PARE DE DISTORCER MINHAS PALAVRAS, EU DISSE QUE UMA LEI EM 2B2T ERA MELHOR DO QUE UMA LEI NA FAVELA, ISSO NÃO É EU FAVORITANDO 2B2T,” (WHEN DID I SAY THAT? STOP DISTORTING MY WORDS, I SAID A LAW IN 2B2T WAS BETTER THAN A LAW IN FAVELA, THIS IS NOT ME FAVORITING 2B2T)

“NÓS NOS IMPORTAMOS COM VOCÊ PAC, MAS VOCÊ NÃO SE IMPORTA COM VOCÊ MESMO!” Mike yelled. (WE CARE ABOUT YOU PAC, BUT YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT YOURSELF!)

“EU ME IMPORTO COMIGO MESMO E EU ME IMPORTO COM VOCÊS TAMBÉM, ARGH, VOCÊS SÃO IRRITANTES, VOU PARA A CAMA AGORA, TE VEJO AMANHÃ, A MENOS QUE VOCÊ NÃO ME QUEIRA MAIS NO SEU CASAMENTO?” (I CARE ABOUT MYSELF AND I CARE ABOUT YOU TOO, ARGH, YOU GUYS ARE ANNOYING, I'M GOING TO BED NOW, SEE YOU TOMORROW, UNLESS YOU DON'T WANT ME IN YOUR WEDDING ANYMORE?)

“O quê? Não-” Cellbit said, but it was too late, Pac had already left the room.

Chapter Text

Fit creaked the door open to Ramon’s room, ready to sing his boy a lullaby, but instead inside he saw Pac singing a sweet lullaby to his son. His heart melted, Ramon was already fast asleep, a wide smile present on his face, clearly having fallen asleep happily, Fit was going to sing to him, but Pac had already. The sweet sound of the melody was soft on the ears, despite Fit not understanding a single word, Richas turned his head to see him, and Fit held a finger to his mouth and Richas nodded in understanding. 

“Nana neném, 
Que a cuca vem pegar,
Papai foi na roça,
Mamãe, no cafezal,
Bicho papão,
Sai de cima do telhado,
Deixa o nenemzinho dormir sossegado,
Nana neném,
Que a cuca vem pegar,
Papai foi na roça,
Mamãe, no cafezal,
Bicho papão,
Sai de cima do telhado,
Deixa o nenemzinho dormir sossegado,
Nana neném,
Que a cuca vem pegar,
Papai foi na roça,
Mamãe, no cafezal,
Bicho papão,
Sai de cima do telhado,
Deixa o nenemzinho dormir sossegado,” Pac sung.

By the end of the song Richas had fallen asleep, Pac’s arms wrapped around him, Fit smiled. His little family. His sons and his husband, and a cute domestic moment. Pac lifted Richas into his arms and turned around, his eyes eventually centering on Fit.

“Ai!” Pac yelled, in a whisper, scared by Fit’s sudden appearance.

“That was beautiful,” a voice came from the door.

“Fitche!” Pac squealed quickly, embarrassed that the man had heard him sing, “You weren’t supposed to hear that,”

“Why?”

“It’s embarrassing,”

“Don’t be embarrassed, you have a beautiful voice, I may not know a single word of what you said but… it’s beautiful,”

“Why are you here?”

“I came to say goodnight to my boy,”

“Oh- I’m sorry, he was tired so I carried him here and-”

“You carried him?”

“Sim, he said he was tired, and he fell asleep in my arms, but I woke him to change,”

“Thank you,”

“O que?”

“Thank you, Ramon doesn’t trust many people like that,”

“What?”

“Since Spreen… Philza, Etoiles, Niki and I are the only people he’ll sleep around, but I guess you’ve been added to the list,”

“Tubbo too,”

“What?”

“He fell asleep on Tubbo during my first week in 2b2t,”

“He did?”

“Sim,”

“Are you gonna put Richas to bed now?”

“Sim, I’ve also go to speak with Cell, then I’ll join you in our room,”

“Okay, I’ll see you in there,”

The previous night Pac had returned to their room in tears, Fit wasn’t quite sure why, but he was pissed. He had gone from singing sweetly to tears, he refused to speak instead immediately wrapping himself in Fit’s arms, not that Fit minded, if he needed comfort and found that in Fit he’d be happy to offer his services. Fit wasn’t exactly sure what had happened, but he could assume. He didn’t know what was going on with the wedding though, so there he lay, Pac still asleep in his arms, looking peaceful. Pac’s eyes flickered open, and a grin grew on his face.

“Mornin’ darling,” Fit teased.

“Morning Fitche,”

“Are you alright?”

“Sim… uh… I don’t know… I’m supposed to join Cellbit’s wedding party… but I don’t want to, not after last night,”

“What happened last night?”

“All of us got into a huge argument, mainly over me… a lot of things were said, and even Richarlyson was brought up,”

“Oh… but you’ll still be wanted in his wedding party right?”

“I don’t know… I left saying I’d see him today unless he didn’t want me in his wedding anymore and didn’t wait for a response,”

“Ah shit… I’m sure he still wants you; you’re his brother-”

“He doesn’t know that-”

“I thought-”

“He still thinks I’m adopted and not his half-brother,”

“You never told him?”

“I couldn’t… laws and shit,”

“Stupid laws, ruining both of our lives,” Fit laughed.

“How’s it ruining yours? You got a handsome husband out of your law,” Pac teased.

“Oh, fuck off,” 

A sharp knock came at the door. It wasn’t any of the servants, only two had permission to knock, Felps and Cherry, with matters regarding Ramon, and Fit had recognised their knocks by now, so it wasn’t them. It wasn’t Mike either, he’d just barge into the room, it wasn’t Cellbit’s knock either. Leaving… Bagi

“PAC TAZER VOCÊ DEVERIA ESTAR NO QUARTO DO CELLBIT HÁ UMA HORA! SE VOCÊ NÃO ME DER PERMISSÃO PARA ENTRAR EM CINCO SEGUNDOS EU VOU INVASIR PARA DENTRO!” (PAC TAZER YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN CELLBIT'S ROOM AN HOUR AGO! IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME PERMISSION TO ENTER IN FIVE SECONDS I WILL BREAK IN!)

“Come in…” Pac grumbled, leaning into Fit more.

“Onde diabos você estava?” she snapped. (Where the hell were you?)

“Sleeping, duh…” 

“Por que você está falando inglês?” (Why are you speaking English?)

“Because my husband is here, and I’m not going to disrespect him,”

“Bem, temos que ir… AGORA!” (Well, we have to go… NOW!)

“Bye Fitche, I have to go, I’ll see you soon,”

“Bye Pac,” Fit laughed, “Go do what you have to do,”

When Fit saw Pac next, he was left breathless, Pac looked gorgeous, he wore a green suit, made of silk, the waistcoat, suit jacket and trousers all matched the shade of green. There were black accents across the lapels. He wore a black tie and shirt underneath, and looked honestly stunning, matching with the rest of the groomsmen. 

Fit wore a simple red suit; he had a pink patterned tie with a matching pocket square. The suit was a dull red, which contrasted nicely with the green of Pac’s suit. 

“Hello,” Pac smiled, “You ready?”

“For what?” Fit stuttered, coming out of his trance.

“To walk down the aisle with me?”

“Oh, yeah… yeah, I’m ready, do you know our cue?”

“Sim it’s when the lyrics start, in Medo Bebo by Rubel,” Pac smiled, excitedly.

“You know the song well?” Fit laughed.

“Sim, why?”

“You just seemed excited,”

“My brother is getting married of course I’m excited, while I may be mad at him, that can take a break for today,”

Pac linked his arm with Fit, looked up and smiled at him as the soft tune of the music began. Bagi and Tina stood behind them, Mike and Felps behind them. 

“Wait hold on, is nobody walking Cellbit down the aisle?”

“I thought Mike was…” Pac admitted.

“So, who is?”

“Uh… Mikey, who's walking Cellbit down?” 

“Uh… I thought it was Bagi…”

“I thought it was Felps,” Bagi commented.

“Fitche would it be okay if you took your seat now and I walk him down?” Pac asked.

“Of course, good luck,” he smiled. 

Fit’s eyes didn’t stray from Pac as soon as he saw the man walk down the aisle arm in arm with Cellbit. He looked proud of his brother, a smile wide on his face. Ramon tugged on Fit’s sleeve. 

“Weren’t you supposed to walk with Pac?” he whispered.

“Yes… but things changed,” Fit whispered back. 

The wedding ceremony was beautiful, many tears were shed, watching Pac stand handsomely in his suit was definitely a highlight for Fit. Why he thought like that he didn’t know but Pac was handsome, you could admit that about a friend, right? Cellbit and Roier said their vows, which Fit couldn’t understand as they were in both of their native languages, a cute touch. Loud cheers rang out, and many claps sounded as they kissed. The coronation of Roier was next, which should’ve been simple except Fit didn’t understand why Pac took Cellbit’s crown off his head, until his husband began to speak. 

“In Favela tradition, as many of you will be aware, the monarch is renounced of their title on their wedding day, so he can be crowded again with his partner, they are crowded by the next in line for the throne, but in our case, since I have already held the throne, I get to crown Cellbit,” Pac smirked, “Why do you wish to be King?”

“I wish to be King to serve my country,”

“Why do you wish to be King?”

“I wish to be King to protect those I care about,”

“Why do you wish to be King?”

“I wish to be King to honour the gods and goddesses,”

“I now crown you King Cellbit the first of Favela,”

“We will serve you as you serve us,” Mike spoke up.

“And now for Roier!” Pac smiled, “Why do you wish to be King consort?”

“To stand by the side of my husband and aid him in serving his country,”

“Why do you wish to be King consort?”

“To keep those I care about close,”

“Why do you wish to be King consort?”

“To honour the gods and goddesses and their plans for mine and my husband’s futures,”

“I now crown you King consort of Favela, Roier the first,”

The two Kings stood up, holding each other's hands, and knelt down before Pac. Pac placed his hands on each of their shoulders, and whispered something in Portuguese that most of the cathedral wouldn’t have been able to hear. 

“I present to Favela your new Kings!” 

Fit was sat beside Ramon, and Richas, sat at a table by himself, minus his kids, waiting for Pac to return. The afterparty had commenced but none of the wedding party had actually arrived yet, except Richas who had practically begged Cellbit to join Ramon. The door slammed open, many guards entered the room, surveying the crowd, before Pac entered beside Mike, Bagi and Felps. 

Once the show of Cellbit and Roier’s entrance had commenced, Pac immediately ran to join Fit and his sons. Every so often he would receive an odd glance from Cellbit or Bagi or Mike, which Fit didn’t like, if they had a problem with Pac, shouldn’t it be forgotten on today of all days? 

“Fitche how long are we planning to stay in Favela?” Pac suddenly asked.

“Uh… two more days why?”

“Could we leave tonight? Or tomorrow morning? Please?”

“You don’t want to stay here?”

“No, please don’t make me,”

“Then we’ll leave first thing tomorrow,”

“Thank you,” Pac sighed.

“You're leaving me again Pai?” Richas squeaked.

“I’m not leaving you mini nenê, I’m leaving Favela, I hate that I have to leave you behind-”

“Why can’t I come with you?”

“Because you have a family here,”

“So do you,”

“Not anymore…” Pac whispered, but Fit heard.

“Your pai has a family in 2b2t too, and you’ve just got a new addition to yours here,” Fit added.

“Sim! You have Roier and Bobby to welcome to the family now, show them what being a Lange is all about,”

“Why can’t you?”

“I’m not a Lange,”

“Why do surnames matter? You were a Lange…” Richas argued.

“I’m now an EmCee, and… surnames matter because they dictate your family,”

“I thought family wasn’t blood but was who you care about-”

“It is and don’t forget that neném but… laws are tricky, I have to go back to 2b2t, and you have to stay here,”

“WHY NOBODY HERE EVEN KNOWS OF MY EXISTENCE AS A PRINCE!”

“Richarlyson be quiet,” Pac said sternly. 

“Pac…” Fit warned, their previous conversation about yelling at children present in his mind.

“It’s for your protection,” Pac said softly.

“You didn’t need protection at my age,” 

“I did, I just didn’t get it,” 

“Bobby is my brother but so is Ramon… why can’t I stay with Ramon,”

“Because you’ve already spent a month with Ramon, you haven’t spent a single day with Bobby,”

“Then why are you leaving early? Can’t I have a few days with both of them?”

“Because your Pai Cellbit, and I have gotten into an argument, and your Pai Mike, and your Pai Felps and your Mãe Bagi have all agreed with Cellbit,”

“Do they not want you here anymore?”

“I don’t know… but I’m not going to find out, I’d love to take you with me but I don’t think they’d like it… you are their son too, not just mine,”

Fit and Pac were unfortunately forced to talk to a bunch of snobby nobles, their least favourite activity, thankfully Richas and Ramon had gone to play with Bobby so they didn’t have to witness the inappropriate comments from strangers. 

Many of them were commenting on Pac having renounced the throne yet being the one crowning Cellbit, which Fit could understand, it was slightly weird due to Favela tradition, it also would’ve moved onto Mike and not Bagi, because it moved onto the next man available before the next woman available, but traditions didn’t have to live on. Fit and Pac’s ‘relationship’ proved that. 

“And what about kids,” a noble smiled.

“We have Ramon…” Fit questioned.

“Indeed, thou speakest true... yet dost thou not yearn for a progeny that is a harmonious blend of both thy essences?” They smiled.

“Should we be blessed with progeny, they would be adopted, thus rendering them not of either our flesh and blood,” 

“Pray tell, what affliction befalls thee? Dost the fates deem thee barren? Are the divine powers wrathful upon thee?”

“My good self and Pac are indeed both gentlemen; thou art aware of this, I trust? We are both sovereigns, for neither of us doth wear the crown of a queen”

“Yet he donned a corset? Doth this not epitomize the essence of feminine biology?”

“Nay, I find delight in adorning myself with corsets, a gracious gift bestowed upon me by my beloved sister; prithee, what manner of reasoning would render this an emblem of feminine biology?” Pac stated.

“Most fair ladies don such adornments, whilst the noble gentlemen refrain; it is deemed a source of shame...”

“My husband shall not suffer dishonour,” Fit defended.

“It’s okay my love,” Pac smirked, “I comprehend their bewilderment, for not all are graced with wisdom bestowed by the deities.”

“Pray, dost thou not yearn for a genuine heir of thine own?”

“Ramon is a true heir,” Pac defended.

“He is not thine, and thus cannot be deemed a true heir, for an heir is the progeny of both sovereigns, is he not?”

“Ramon is my son,” Pac stated, “He is my beloved progeny, whom I have graciously adopted; I embrace him as my own, and the judgments of none shall sway me, save for that of my esteemed husband.”

“Ramon and Richas right?”

“What?” Pac panicked.

“How do you know about him?” Fit asked.

“A young lad adorned with a prosthetic limb wandering amidst the majestic castles of Favela and 2b2t... Whom else, pray tell, hath graced the illustrious halls of Favela and 2b2t? Indeed, the esteemed Pac, thus it follows that he is none other than Pac's progeny as well.”

“That’s King Pac to you,” Fit spat, “And… um…”

“Fine… Richas is my son,” Pac sighed.

“Pray tell, thou didst not enter into holy matrimony in a state of virginity? How utterly absurd!”

“Richas hath also been adopted; I declare, I am neither, nor have I ever been, inclined towards the feminine sex”

“Excuse me sir, what is your name?” Fit asked.

“Lapin, of the Noble Kingdom of the Federation,”

“Thou hast rendered both myself and my esteemed husband exceedingly uncomfortable; we shall take our leave forthwith.”

“Thus, my task hath been fulfilled henceforth.”

“What?”

“Farewell, your Majesties.”

“Pray, halt thy steps forthwith, refrain from departing! What dost thou imply by proclaiming that thy duties are complete?” Fit held his arm to prevent him from walking away.

“I work for King Cucurucho,”

“And?” Fit dug his nails into his arm, “What was your task?”

“Verily, thou art dubbed the Merciless Monarch for reasons most profound.”

“Answer him,” Pac grit his teeth.

“My noble undertaking, to penetrate the very depths of your minds… King Cucurucho approaches, and thus I deliver unto you this solemn warning.”

“What dost he seek to achieve? What compels him to pursue us so fervently?”

“I shall refrain from further discourse.”

“Fitche…”

“Yes Pac?”

“Behold, a dungeon dost reside yonder; perchance we should confine him therein, devoid of sustenance and drink for a span of days, to ascertain whether he might be inclined to speak thereafter?”

“I greatly admire the manner in which thou dost contemplate matters,”

“Bagi shall apprise us of the outcome, whether it culminates in his demise or his utterance.”

“Fetch Felps for me?” Fit asked.

Pac returned swiftly with Felps by his side, who looked annoyed at being disturbed. But as Pac led him towards Lapin, he frown went from once of annoyance to one of deep concern for Pac.

“Presenting Lapin, who serves under Cucurucho and remains mute,” declared Pac with gentle grace, “Yet he hath conveyed that Cucurucho seeks Fit and myself, the motive of which eludes our understanding. We would greatly appreciate thy assistance in thine esteemed dungeons, and with the intelligence gathering of Bagi.”

“Verily, we are capable of such a task; shall I convey this to Cellbit, then?”

“Nay, permit him to enjoy the splendour of his wedding day and honeymoon ere bestowing upon him matters of such gravity; rather, apprise Bagi in his stead.”

“Thank you Felps,” Fit smiled, “It’s appreciated,”

“No soul shall dare to threaten Pac under my vigilant gaze; I have served as his protector for the span of eighteen years, and shall remain so with unwavering fidelity upon every occasion of his visit.”

Chapter Text

Bagi dragged him along the corridor, ranting in rapid Portuguese, Pac, still delirious from his slumber, was barely keeping track of what she was saying. She seemed upset, angry and frustrated all at once, and it was confusing. This woman, who just last night, claimed he had turned her back on him, was now begging him for help. She was already dressed in her dress and corset, her hair and makeup were done, and she looked stunning, Pac had to admit even if he was mad at her. Her corset had decorative vines over the boning and flowers across it, to match the deep green of the dress. Her makeup followed a similar pattern to her dress, and her hair was tied up in a braided bun.

“Pac, por favor, se apresse, a Cellbit precisa de você,” (Pac, please, hurry, Cellbit needs you)

“Cellbit doth require not my presence, for he did make that abundantly clear on the eve of yesternight,”

“O Fit não está mais aqui, você não precisa falar inglês para respeitá-lo,” (Fit is no longer here, you don't need to speak English to respect him,)

“Só me leve para Cellbit…” Pac sighed. (Just take me to Cellbit…)

When Pac arrived in Cellbit’s room he saw chaos, pure chaos. Richas was refusing to put on his suit, so both Mike and Felps were attempting to wrangle him into it. Cellbit was in the corner panicking, with several servants surrounding him, attempting to calm him down. Bagi immediately ran over to Cellbit’s wedding suit, to ensure it hadn’t been ruined by the chaos. 

“TODO MUNDO PARA FORA!” Pac yelled, startling everyone. (EVERYBODY OUT!)

“Mas pai…” Richas complained. 

“Sai, sai, falo com você em breve,” (Get out, get out, I'll talk to you soon)

“Pac-” Cellbit croaked. 

“Agora não, deixe todos saírem primeiro, inclusive você, Mikey.” (Not now, let everyone leave first, including you, Mikey.)

“O quê? Mas-”

“Vá embora, agora,” (Leave, now)

“Eu-”

“Por favor, não me faça puxar minha classificação,” Pac sighed. (Please don't make me pull my rank)

“Multar…” (Fine…)

Eventually everybody had left the room and the overwhelming sound had dissipated. Cellbit was still panicking, but Pac would work with one thing at a time. Cellbit first. Then getting Richarlyson ready, then himself. 

“Não pensei que você viria…” Cellbit sniffled. (I didn't think you would come…)

“Não pensei que você me quisesse aqui, mas agora não é hora para essa conversa, é o dia do seu casamento, vamos ser felizes e te preparar,” (I didn't think you wanted me here, but now is not the time for that conversation, it's your wedding day, let's be happy and prepare you,)

“Você não achou que eu iria querer você?” (You didn't think I would want you?)

“Não… mas como eu disse, não é a hora, onde está seu terno?” (No… but like I said, it’s not the time, where’s your suit?)

“No guarda-roupa,” (In the wardrobe) 

Pac pulled out a black suit, paired with a green silk waistcoat, tie and pocket square. Pac smiled a bittersweet smile, he was happy for Cellbit, truely, but he was also jealous, he would never get his happily ever after, not like Cellbit got. Cellbit’s suit was simple, and a direct copy of Roier’s, except Roier’s was red, Pac had seen them both before, before he’d even met Fit… a long time ago. 

He handed the suit to Cellbit, who wiped his eyes before receiving the garment. Pac’s own suit was somewhere in the room, he didn’t exactly know where, but considering Bagi, Mike and Felps were all dressed already, he could assume it wasn’t too hard to find. 

“Seu terno também está no guarda-roupa,” Cellbit laughed, tears still in his eyes. (Your suit is also in the wardrobe,)

“Obrigado!”

“De nada,”

“Como você está se sentindo?” Pac asked. (How are you feeling?) 

“Tipo merda,” (Like shit) 

“Justo, você está pelo menos um pouco animado?” (Fair enough, are you at least a little excited?)

“Sim… mas também estou apavorado,” (Yes… but I’m also terrified,)

“Por que?”

“Porque depois que eu voltar da minha lua de mel anunciaremos Richas como herdeiro do trono…” (Because after I return from my honeymoon we will announce Richas as heir to the throne…)

“Espera o quê?” (Wait what?)

“E tenho medo de colocá-lo em perigo, e tenho medo de colocar Roier e Bobby em perigo... as pessoas estão atrás de mim, não as quero no fogo cruzado,” (And I'm afraid of putting him in danger, and I'm afraid of putting Roier and Bobby in danger... people are after me, I don't want them in the crossfire,)

“Eu pensei que Bagi fosse a herdeira… ela é sua irmã e a próxima mais velha…” (I thought Bagi was the heir… she is your sister and the next oldest…)

“Você não é meu irmão biológico, nem Mike, o trono normalmente não vai para as mulheres, por mais injusto que eu ache isso, ele vai para o filho do atual rei, se eu morrer entre agora e o décimo oitavo aniversário de Richas, então sim, Bagi assume o trono, mas... se ele fizer dezoito anos, então ele vai direto para ele...” (You're not my biological brother, nor is Mike, the throne doesn't normally go to women, as unfair as I think it is, it goes to the current king's son, if I die between now and Richas' eighteenth birthday, then yes, Bagi takes the throne, but... if he turns eighteen, then it goes straight to him…)

“O que aconteceria se Mike fosse seu irmão biológico?”(What would happen if Mike was your biological brother?)

“Então ele estaria à frente de Richas…” (Then he would be ahead of Richas…)

“E se eu fosse?” (What if I were?)

“Bem, você renunciou ao trono... mas tecnicamente você ainda estaria à frente de Richas,” (Well, you've given up the throne... but technically you'd still be in charge of Richas.)

“Por quê? Não, não, não, porra, não,” (Why? No, no, no, fuck no,)

“Pac, por que você está em pânico?… você é meu irmão de verdade, não é?” (Pac, why are you panicking?… you're my real brother, aren't you?)

That was it. Cellbit had figured it out. He was always intelligent, and Pac knew he’d figure it out sooner or later, but he didn’t expect it to be while he was mid conversation with him. He also didn’t expect it to be a question directed at him. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, as he decided on what words to say, eventually deciding to simply nod instead.

“Foi por isso que a mamãe te salvou... você é filho dela, e Mike? Ele-” (That's why Mum saved you... you're her son, and Mike? He-)

“Não é, ele não é filho dela, mas ele é biologicamente meu meio-irmão... ele simplesmente não sabe disso...” (No, he's not her son, but he's biologically my half-brother... he just doesn't know it…)

“Mas você sabia todo esse tempo,” (But you knew all this time)

“Sim…”

“E você nunca disse uma palavra?” (And you never said a word?)

“Eu não consegui…” (I couldn’t…)

“Por que?”

When Pac’s eyes landed on Fit, he audibly gasped, the man was stunning, his red suit flattered his features in all the best possible ways. He wrapped his arm around Fit’s, smiling at the man, still angry at his family surrounding him, but he could keep the peace for a few hours.

“Hello,” Pac smiled, “You ready?”

“For what?” Fit stuttered, coming out of his trance.

“To walk down the aisle with me?”

“Oh, yeah… yeah, I’m ready, do you know our cue?”

“Sim it’s when the lyrics start, in Medo Bebo by Rubel,” Pac smiled, excitedly.

“You know the song well?” Fit laughed.

“Sim, why?”

“You just seemed excited,”

“My brother is getting married of course I’m excited, while I may be mad at him, that can take a break for today,”

Pac linked his arm with Fit, looked up and smiled at him as the soft tune of the music began. Bagi and Tina stood behind them, Mike and Felps behind them. 

“Wait hold on, is nobody walking Cellbit down the aisle?”

“I thought Mike was…” Pac admitted.

“So, who is?”

“Uh… Mikey, who's walking Cellbit down?” 

“Uh… I thought it was Bagi…”

“I thought it was Felps,” Bagi commented.

“Fitche would it be okay if you took your seat now and I walk him down?” Pac asked.

“Of course, good luck,” he smiled. 

Pac walked into the room where Cellbit was currently waiting, the man had his head resting in his hands, clearly panicking, not having expected to feel so very alone on his wedding day. Pac wrapped his arm around Cellbit, allowing the king to sob into his arms. 

“Não era para dar errado… nada era para dar errado…” he sobbed. (It wasn't supposed to go wrong... nothing was supposed to go wrong…)

“As coisas dão errado e é a vida… mas as coisas também dão certo, você e Roier se casando, isso mesmo,” (Things go wrong and that's life... but things also go right, you and Roier getting married, that's right,)

“Você e Fit se casarem foi errado,” (You and Fit getting married was wrong,)

“Hoje é o dia do meu casamento?” (Is today my wedding day?)

“Não…”

“Então pare de fazer isso sobre mim, hoje é seu dia, você deveria estar feliz,” (So stop making this about me, today is your day, you should be happy,)

“Mas eu te evitei no seu casamento, por que você não está fazendo o mesmo comigo? Eu mereço…” (But I avoided you at your wedding, why aren't you doing the same to me? I deserve it…)

“Enquanto ainda estou chateado com você, posso deixar algumas emoções de lado para ficar feliz pelo meu irmão no dia do casamento dele, agora levante-se, está quase na sua hora, e como o próximo na linha de sucessão ao trono, acho que é meu dever acompanhá-la até o altar,” (While I'm still upset with you, I can put some emotions aside to be happy for my brother on his wedding day, now get up, it's almost your time, and as the next in line to the throne, I think it's my duty to walk you down the aisle,)

“Sim…” Cellbit laughed, “Oh Deus, eu vou me casar,” (Oh God, I'm getting married)

“Sim, sim, você é, e você vai ser incrivelmente feliz,” (Yes, yes you are, and you will be incredibly happy,)

“Você terá que visitar,” (You will have to visit,)

“O que?”

“Você terá que voltar e me visitar depois que minha lua de mel terminar,” (You'll have to come back and visit me after my honeymoon is over,)

“Eu adoraria… mas não posso prometer nada,” (I would love to… but I can't promise anything,)

“Você ainda está bravo,” (You're still mad,)

“E eu tenho todo o direito de estar, mas agora não é sobre isso, agora levante-se majestade, e vá fazer Roier o homem mais feliz do mundo, e deixe a mamãe orgulhosa,” (And I have every right to be, but now is not about that, now get up your majesty, and go make Roier the happiest man in the world, and make mummy proud,)

Pac walked slowly, side by side, with Cellbit, Cellbit’s rushed breathing in his ear, in, out, in, out, in, out. He was giving away his brother, he was officiating their wedding, it was his job as Favela’s prince. Step by step, breath by breath, they walked down together. Pac felt a smile spread across his face, proud of his brother. He turned his head to face Cellbit, tears were already running down his eyes at the sight. Cellbit, his brother, the boy he had teased growing up, the boy he had taught, the boy he had hidden during their father’s angry tirades, was all grown up and married. Pac turned his head back to face the front, catching Roier’s eyes, Roier nodded to him, as if to promise to keep Cellbit safe and sane. 

Pac took his place beside Cellbit, letting his brother hold the hands of his beloved, before he began the ceremony, because unlike his wedding, he would officiate, as per Favela tradition. He eventually stood in place, eyes flickering around the room, to find Fit. Their eyes met, and that was all the support that he needed to continue, Fit would be there for him. 

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Cellbit and Roier,” Pac smiled, wiping the tears from his eyes, “I, as Cellbit’s brother, have seen their relationship flourish, and blossom into something beautiful and I am honoured that I get to be the one to officiate,”

Cellbit and Roier turned to face Pac, still holding hands. Pac took a breath, attempting to calm himself, before speaking to a cathedral full of people. 

“Cellbit repeat after me, I Cellbit Lange do take Roier De Luque, in sickness and in health,” Pac smiled.

“I Cellbit Lange do take Roier De Luque in sickness and in health,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“Thank you, and Roier are you ready to say your vows,”

“Yes,”

“I Roier De Luque do take Cellbit Lange, in sickness and in health,”

“I Roier De Luque do take Cellbit Lange, in sickness and in health,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“To have and to hold, from this day onwards, until death do we part,”

“Thank you,” Pac smiled, “You have declared your love for each other, in the presence of the gods, in the presence of the church and the people of multiple kingdoms, but I must ask the crowd, does anybody object to the marriage of Cellbit and Roier?”

The cathedral was silent, Pac could hear his own heartbeat. Buh duh, Buh duh, Buh duh. He didn’t want a repeat of his wedding. He knew Cucurucho was invited but had declined the invitation, a sign of disrespect, but honestly nobody cared. 

“If nobody objects,” Pac looked around the room, “Then I declare you husband and husband, but first, I believe you have your own vows prepared,”

“Sim,” Cellbit smiled.

“Cellbit do you want to go first?”

“Roier… cuando nos conocimos, no nos afectó de inmediato ni hubo amistad, la verdad es que nos despreciábamos un poco, solo nos veíamos por negocios, pero a medida que te fui conociendo, llegué a amar cada pequeña acción que haces, cada pequeño hábito, cada aspecto de tu personalidad y decidí hace mucho tiempo que eras la persona con la que quería pasar el resto de mi vida, aprender de cada uno de tus movimientos e impulsos, porque te amo, te amo tanto,” Cellbit began, speaking in Roier’s own language, bring the other man to tears. (Roier… when we met, we didn't immediately hit it off and there was no friendship, the truth is that we despised each other a little, we only saw each other for business, but as I got to know you, I came to love every little action you do, every little habit, every aspect of your personality and I decided a long time ago that you were the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, learn from your every move and impulse, because I love you, I love you so much,)

“Cellbit… Yo uh… joder, tenía todo un plan de cómo hacer esto, pero uh… Te quiero muchísimo, y al principio bueno, te despreciaba, no voy a mentir, pero después de conocerte, después de que mi familia te conociera, empezaron a presionarme para que saliera contigo, sabían que me gustabas antes de que yo supiera que me gustabas, Jaiden específicamente, deberías sentirte agradecido de haber obtenido su permiso, nunca se lo dio a ningún chico antes que a ti, y honestamente tenía razón, te merezco, porque estamos hechos el uno para el otro,” Roier responded. (Cellbit… I uh… fuck, I had a whole plan on how to do this, but uh… I love you so much, and at first well, I despised you, I'm not gonna lie, but after I met you, after my family met you, they started pressuring me to date you, they knew I liked you before I even knew I liked you, Jaiden specifically, you should be grateful you got her permission, she never gave it to any guy before you, and honestly she was right, I deserve you, because we were meant for each other,)

 “I now pronounce you, husband and husband,” Pac announced, “You may kiss,”

“In Favela tradition, as many of you will be aware, the monarch is renounced of their title on their wedding day, so he can be crowded again with his partner, they are crowded by the next in line for the throne, but in our case, since I have already held the throne, I get to crown Cellbit,” Pac smirked, “Why do you wish to be King?”

“I wish to be King to serve my country,”

“Why do you wish to be King?”

“I wish to be King to protect those I care about,”

“Why do you wish to be King?”

“I wish to be King to honour the gods and goddesses,”

“I now crown you King Cellbit the first of Favela,”

“We will serve you as you serve us,” Mike spoke up.

“And now for Roier!” Pac smiled, “Why do you wish to be King consort?”

“To stand by the side of my husband and aid him in serving his country,”

“Why do you wish to be King consort?”

“To keep those I care about close,”

“Why do you wish to be King consort?”

“To honour the gods and goddesses and their plans for mine and my husband’s futures,”

“I now crown you King consort of Favela, Roier the first,”

The two Kings stood up, holding each other's hands, and knelt down before Pac. Pac placed his hands on each of their shoulders, and whispered something in Portuguese that most of the cathedral wouldn’t have been able to hear. 

“I present to Favela your new Kings!” 

When Pac joined the party, he spotted Fit sitting with their sons at a table, softly teasing the two boys, who simply laughed in response. It was an incredibly domestic scene that made Pac’s heart swell. He walked over to the table and sat down beside his husband. 

After a difficult conversation, Ramon and Richas went off to play and Fit and Pac began to fulfil their duties as kings, talking to nobles, despite how much both of them despised it, the uncomfortable topics that were always brought up, it was far too much. 

“Thus, my task hath been fulfilled henceforth.”

“What?”

“Farewell, your Majesties.”

“Pray, halt thy steps forthwith, refrain from departing! What dost thou imply by proclaiming that thy duties are complete?” Fit held his arm to prevent him from walking away.

“I work for King Cucurucho,”

“And?” Fit dug his nails into his arm, “What was your task?”

“Verily, thou art dubbed the Merciless Monarch for reasons most profound.”

“Answer him,” Pac grit his teeth.

“My noble undertaking, to penetrate the very depths of your minds… King Cucurucho approaches, and thus I deliver unto you this solemn warning.”

“What dost he seek to achieve? What compels him to pursue us so fervently?”

“I shall refrain from further discourse.”

“Fitche…”

“Yes Pac?”

“Behold, a dungeon dost reside yonder; perchance we should confine him therein, devoid of sustenance and drink for a span of days, to ascertain whether he might be inclined to speak thereafter?”

“I greatly admire the manner in which thou dost contemplate matters,”

“Bagi shall apprise us of the outcome, whether it culminates in his demise or his utterance.”

“Fetch Felps for me?” Fit asked.

Pac returned swiftly with Felps by his side, who looked annoyed at being disturbed. But as Pac led him towards Lapin, he frown went from once of annoyance to one of deep concern for Pac.

“Presenting Lapin, who serves under Cucurucho and remains mute,” declared Pac with gentle grace, “Yet he hath conveyed that Cucurucho seeks Fit and myself, the motive of which eludes our understanding. We would greatly appreciate thy assistance in thine esteemed dungeons, and with the intelligence gathering of Bagi.”

“Verily, we are capable of such a task; shall I convey this to Cellbit, then?”

“Nay, permit him to enjoy the splendor of his wedding day and honeymoon ere bestowing upon him matters of such gravity; rather, apprise Bagi in his stead.”

“Thank you Felps,” Fit smiled, “It’s appreciated,”

“No soul shall dare to threaten Pac under my vigilant gaze; I have served as his protector for the span of eighteen years, and shall remain so with unwavering fidelity upon every occasion of his visit.” 

“Felps,” Pac sniffled, “Sinto sua falta e peço desculpas por tudo…” (I miss you and I'm sorry for everything…)

“Você não tem absolutamente nada do que se desculpar, e lamento que nem todos concordem, mas... nós concordaremos.” (You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, and I'm sorry not everyone agrees, but... we will.)

“Could you take Lapin to the dungeon?” Fit asked.

“Sim, of course your highness, I shall also inform Bagi of this development,”

Felps took Lapin from Fit’s arms, and escorted him out of the room. Pac clung onto Fit, fear rising in his stomach, what could Cucurucho be planning? And why was he after them? What did they do? An arranged marriage, there were no laws against it, in fact in most kingdoms it’s encouraged. 

“Are you okay?” Fit whispered in his ear, causing him to shiver.

“Sim… just shaken up,”

“Do you want to go back to our room?”

“Sim, I’m just going to say goodbye to Cellbit,”

“Of course, do you want me to wait here?”

“Uh, não, come with me,”

“Oh, okay, I wasn’t expecting that,”

Chapter Text

Fit woke up to Pac sitting up, breathing heavily. Potentially having woken from a nightmare, potentially not, but he couldn’t be sure. Pac gripped the bed sheets tight, as Fit sat up next to him. Fit’s face contorted into one of worry, he didn’t know if Pac would be responsive. 

“Pac? Are you okay?”

“Sim, foi só um pesadelo,” (Yeah, it was just a nightmare)

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand…”

“Nightmare-” Pac breathed heavily, “I’m fine, it’s just a nightmare, I’m gonna go to the kitchens to grab some water, do you want anything?”

“No, I’ll be fine, do you want me to come with you?”

“Não, I think I need to be alone,”

“Okay,”

Fit had returned to his state of slumber after Pac had left the room, he slept for another four hours, before waking and realising Pac never returned. However Fit didn’t panic, Pac was the prince of this kingdom, and probably got distracted talking to some servant or noble or somebody. 

Fit swung his legs over the side of the bed, picked up his prosthetic and put it on. He walked to the dining room, maybe Pac had changed his mind about leaving early, that was a possibility. Or maybe he was saying goodbye to Richas. He was safe, definitely, hopefully, surely. Never mind Fit needed to find him, as soon as possible, just to calm his anxiety. 

He began to wander the castle, eventually bumping into Bagi, who appeared to be searching the castle frantically. He forced her to stop and breathe. 

“Have you seen Pac?” He asked.

“You haven’t?” she asked, “Wasn’t he sleeping?”

“No… he got up about four hours ago to get a drink, and never returned…”

“Shit…”

“Yeah… have Cellbit and Roier left for their honeymoon yet?”

“No, let’s go find them, maybe they know where he is,”

Bagi and Fit began walking side by side, through the castle. Both rushing around, Fit still panicked, Bagi less so, but still concerned. It wasn’t like Pac to just disappear. They turned every corner, in search of him, but nothing, whilst making their way towards Cellbit and Roier’s room. 

Bagi knocked on the door, rapidly, receiving a string of Brazilian curse words in response. 

“O PAC DESAPARECEU!” she yelled. (PAC HAS DISAPPEARED!)

“O QUE?” a voice from inside the room yelled.

“Pac disappeared four hours ago, we don’t know where he is,” Fit said as the door opened.

“Fuck, okay, um… where’s Mike? Where’s Richas? Where’s Ramon?” Cellbit asked.

“Mike is with Felps, working on some project, Richas and Ramon are with the tutor, I saw them twenty minutes ago,” Bagi answered.

“Okay… uh where does Pac like to go?”

“The orphanage…” Fit answered.

“He hates that place, why would he go there?” Bagi laughed.

“He donates there regularly, and took me there…”

“He what?” Cellbit asked.

“Yeah… where else does he like to go?”

“Uh… he likes the training rooms, fetch Felps to search them, Bagi you check the library, Mike will go to the orphanage with you Fit, and uh… until then, we are officially on lockdown,”

“Gatinho que esta pasando?” Roier asked, appearing behind Cellbit. (Gatinho what’s going on?)

“Pac’s gone missing,”

“¿Qué?” 

“When was he last seen?” Cellbit asked.

“We were in bed and he went to get a glass of water, he never returned, that was four hours ago,”

“Shit… uh, Guapito, could we postpone our honeymoon,”

“Of course, this is your brother we are talking about,”

Everyone had split up, Bagi, Cellbit, Roier and Felps all searched the castle, whereas Mike and Fit were sent to the orphanage to search for Pac. The chances were that he just got up and left on his own, of his own volition but there obviously was a chance he’d been taken too, and everybody was anxious in case that was true. 

“I don’t know why he showed you the orphanage, I don’t know why he told you about the orphanage, but…” Mike sighed, “If he’s here I’ll be eternally grateful, but I doubt he is,”

“Why do you doubt it?”

“Because he’s very clearly been kidnapped, it’s my fucking turn but no, he had to go and get kidnapped,”

“Your turn? What are you talking about?”

“Pac and I have been kidnapped a lot, I’ve been kidnapped five times, and Pac has been kidnapped six, well seven now, so it was my turn, it’s a joke we made to make light of a dark situation,”

“SIX TIMES?”

“Uh… yeah…”

“How?”

“We were orphans, people would kidnap us for manual labour, then we became princes, and people kidnapped us for ransom,”

“You guys worry me,”

“Let’s just go inside, maybe Sra. Maria can help,”

They walked up the slightly destroyed steps of the orphanage, intense yelling coming from inside. Fit watched as Mike flinched at the sound, before regaining his composure and moving forwards. Fit didn’t really think, he just hoped and prayed that they could find Pac, because whilst he was a grown man, he was a prince and a king, people would want him. 

“Oh hello,” Sra. Maria smiled, holding a baby, “How can I help you two?”

“Have you seen Pac?” Mike asked bluntly.

“No, I can’t say I have, your majesty, why is everything okay?”

“He’s been missing for about five to six hours now,” Fit sighed.

“Oh no, not my poor baby,” Sra. Maria sniffled, “You’ll find him, and when you do, I want to be informed, Mike I see you and Pac as my children, regardless of your adoptive parents,”

“Yes Sra. Maria, you’ll be informed, sorry to disturb you,” Mike said, before grabbing Fit’s arm to turn him away. 

“O Rei Pac ficará bem?” Tilin asked, tugging on Mike’s sleeve. (Will King Pac be okay?)

“Ele vai ficar bem, ele é forte,” Mike bent down to ruffle their hair. (He'll be fine, he's strong,)

Mike looked up to face Fit, and shook his head. Fit understood immediately. He grabbed Mike’s wrist and dragged him away, thanking Sra. Maria before they left and returned to their carriage.

Mike was panicking, his jokes earlier were quite clearly just him coping. Fit was worried but he couldn’t imagine how Mike was feeling, he hadn’t been without Pac for years, or at least until they got married. Lapin had mentioned that Cucurucho was after them… fuck it was all Fit’s fault, Pac would be safe and happy if it wasn’t for him. 

“Cucurucho!” Fit suddenly said.

“What?”

“Cucurucho he’s after Pac and I, we don’t know why, but-”

“What did you do?” Mike spat.

“Nothing… Cucurucho ugh, I don’t know, but one of his workers confronted us at Cellbit’s wedding and is currently being held in your dungeon,”

“Then we’ll go there, and since when did Pac have access to the dungeon?”

“Felps locked him up,”

The rest of the carriage ride was silent, minus the sound of gravel cracking underneath the carriage and horses. Fit wrung his hands around the other, he could feel his heartbeat in his chest, but he couldn’t panic, not in front of anyone, he had a reputation to uphold, but honestly all reputations had gone to shit. Cellbit didn’t know what to do, and he normally did, Mike wasn’t the happy prince anymore, Bagi couldn’t find him, and she knew all his hiding places. 

Upon arriving at the castle, both Mike and Fit immediately stormed through to the dungeon, refusing to say a word. Cellbit eventually found them, tried to speak but neither said a word, eventually he ended up following them, unsure of their destination. 

“Thou shalt carry out the beating, right?” Mike asked.

“Sure,” Fit spat.

“Good,” Mike smirked, “I shall undertake the torment of the mind.”

“Pray, what discourse doth ensue 'twixt thee two?” Cellbit demanded.

“Pac’s been kidnapped, again,” Mike stated bluntly, “Events transpired on the occasion of thy nuptials, and there presently resides a soul within the confines of thy dungeons who may bear the burden of culpability.”

“I’m confused,”

“Ask Felps,” Fit said.

Eventually they arrived in the dungeons. The cold, damp and dark environment, not bothering any of them, as it normally would. Neither Fit nor Mike knew exactly where Lapin was being held but they were determined to search the entire dungeon and find him. 

Laughter rang out through the dungeon, creating an eerie aura. Fit shivered, the cold breeze finally getting to him. Mike snapped his head to face Fit. Not many laughed in a dungeon, not unless they were driven to insanity, and Lapin had only been in custody for less than a day, it wasn’t possible, he wouldn’t be insane already. 

“Looking for Pac?” Lapin laughed. 

Cellbit turned the corner, swiftly followed by Fit and Mike. All of them were pissed. Expressions cold, no room for games, they’d kill, all of them would. Cellbit unlocked the cell, and Mike immediately burst inside, Fit walked inside calmly, before yanking Lapin up to face him by his hair. 

“Finally figured it out?” Lapin laughed, “It hath taken thee but a span of eight hours; by this hour, he has departed well beyond our reach.”

“What do you know?” Cellbit spat.

“What would compel me to divulge such information unto thee?”

Fit punched him, square in the face. Lapin recoiled backwards, before Fit yanked him up again. 

“Should you choose not to communicate with us, we shall put your loyalty to Cucurucho to the ultimate test.” Mike stated, “SO SPEAK,”

“Dost thou believe I am daunted by mere torment? Nay, I have endured far worse in times past.”

“In which realms didst, thou endure the torments of anguish?” Fit asked sweetly.

“In all of them,”

“2b2t?” Fit asked.

“Before your reign, yes,”

“Verily, much hath transformed since I ascended the throne. We now possess enchantresses, alongside the benediction of the goddess of demise. We possess the means to extinguish thy life, revive thee, and repeat this cycle until thy answers are procured.” 

“The divine empress of demise doth not bestow her grace upon mortals-”

“She blesses her patron angel,”

“Ah, indeed, yet His Majesty King Philza doth dwell in Purgatory.”

“His Majesty King Philza hath abdicated his regal station, choosing instead to serve as mine esteemed counsellor; thus, I beseech thee to commence thy discourse forthwith.”

“Pac is married to you,” Lapin laughed, “They want information about 2b2t,”

“What information?” Cellbit asked.

“Concerning the military, their grand ambitions, and the covert operatives you presently employ to scrutinize all other realms...”

“He possesses no knowledge of such matters.”

“Why not?” Lapin asked, “Verily, he is thine husband and the Sovereign of 2b2t; assuredly, he would possess knowledge of such matters, unless perchance the sentiments of love betwixt you both were naught but a facade.”

“We have taken upon ourselves the division of responsibilities concerning 2b2t; the military is my charge, whilst it is not his.”

“I don’t believe you,” Lapin smirked, “Though you may wield your power to strike me at will, such actions do not embody the true nature of love; indeed, His Majesty King Cucurucho hath put your affections to the test.”

“By what means did he endeavor to assay their affection?” Mike asked.

“...”

“YOU WILL ANSWER,” Cellbit snapped.

“The Sovereign of Tranquillity, now descending into cruelty… what a lamentable predicament, for he is but a stranger to the individual in question.”

“Pac is my brother,”

“He is not, for it is well known that he is of adopted lineage.”

“He is my brother, and I care about him, so yeah I don’t care if my fucking title of peace disappears, He doth bear the title of my brother, and my affection for him is unyielding; thus, I find myself unperturbed should my esteemed title of peace be rendered void.”

“What doth inspire thy unwavering loyalty towards Cucurucho?” Mike asked. “What doth he proffer unto thee?”

“Safety-”

“Verily, thou art not in a position of safety at this present moment.” Mike spat. 

“The safeguarding of my cherished kin, riches, and esteemed standing,”

“Fit punch him again,” Mike said.

“Gladly,”

Lapin’s skin had begun to bruise, a deep shade of purple and black, his eyes were bloodshot, and it would only begin to get worse if he didn’t start to speak soon. Lapin was backed into a corner, surrounded by the three men, towering over him, yet he didn’t look even the slightest bit scared. 

“I must confess, thou dost possess a most formidable strike,” Lapin laughed, “Yet, until such time as thou dost bring thy threats to fruition, I remain sceptical that thou canst extract naught but silence from me.”

“He’s right,” Mike said, “We find ourselves at an impasse; summon Felps forthwith and procure sustenance for him, for it is conceivable that acts of hospitality may entice him to divulge his thoughts.”

“Hospitality?” Fit asked, “He kidnapped Pac,”

“I am aware, thank you,” Mike glared at him. 

“Very well… yet when thy stratagem inevitably falters, I shall stand prepared to deliver a most vigorous reprimand unto him.”

They all exited the dungeon, Mike leading outside, desperate to speak to the others, without the presence of Lapin. Upstairs, Bagi and Felps were still searching for Pac, nobody had told them yet. 

“Were your threats the truth?” Mike asked, “Might we be able to revive him should the necessity arise?”

“Yes,”

“Pray, lend thine ear to mine stratagem: we shall taint the repast; I shall be the sole possessor of the antidote. In exchange for knowledge, I shall proffer it, and should our scheme falter, we have a contingency in readiness.”

“I like the plan,” Cellbit stated, “Where is Philza?”

“He is most likely in quest of Pac, accompanied by the remaining members of the staff, or perhaps within the confines of his chamber.”

“Pray, dost thou go and summon him; I shall confer with Felps and the kitchens. Mike, I entreat thee to apprise Bagi of our design.”

Bagi was pacing around the room, whilst Fit was sitting down on the sofa, Mike was informing her of the situation. She was incredibly stressed and was probably mad at herself due to not figuring out the security threat sooner. 

“This is your fault,” she pointed at Fit.

“I’m sorry what?”

“Had he not taken thy hand in matrimony, perchance he would not have been seized by miscreants,”

“Whilst yes that’s true-”

“It’s true, there’s no defence for you here,”

“Verily, thou didst assert that Pac hath been abducted in times past, dost thou not?”

“Well yes,”

“Pray tell, who can assert with certainty that he would not have been abducted from the Favela once more, regardless?”

“Well…”

“Is it not a far more prudent consideration that Ramon might have faced abduction in lieu of Pac, for what could be more grievous than befalling a mere child, in contrast to a valiant adult capable of defending his own person?”

“Dost thou imply that thou dost find joy in the abduction of Pac?” Bagi asked.

“I would greatly favor him above Ramon, yet ideally, none should have been subjected to abduction,”

“Pray, let us refrain from apportioning blame at this juncture; I possess a grand design, and verily, it was high time that either Pac or I endured abduction.” Mike sighed.

“You can’t seriously be on his side,”

“Dost thou believe I hold any affection for Fit? Nay! Verily not, for he hath taken my brother, the man who hath been by my side since the tender age of four; yet mine divine goddess hath revealed unto me visions… visions I wished not to behold, concerning their future, a future wherein they find joy together,”

“You’ve seen my future?”

“Verily, it be laden with sorrow and anguish ere you attain bliss in unison,”

“Will we actually become friends?”

“Sim,”

“Well first we need to actually find Pac before any of that can happen,” Bagi stated.

“Pray, how long dost thou surmise it shall be ere Cellbit doth return?” Fit asked.

“Not long, hopefully,”

“Who’s going to go with you?” Bagi asked.

“Nobody,” Mike said, “Fit’s threatened him, Cellbit too, I’m the sole person who can do this,”

“What about me?” Bagi asked.

“It’s best if you stay out of it,” Mike said, “He’ll be more wary if more people are there,”

Fit held Ramon in his arms, whispering promises to his boy. If this had happened to Ramon, he didn’t even know what he would have done. Mike was currently interrogating Lapin, and the only thing the rest of them could do was sit and wait. He had seen Bagi cradling Richas in a similar way to what he was doing to Ramon. Everyone was worried and stressed, with nothing they could do. 

“Will Pac be okay?” Ramon squeaked.

“I hope so,”

He tightened his arms around Ramon, kissing the crown of his head, he was sure Ramon could hear his racing heartbeat. Even if he didn’t love Pac he was still scared, he had grown fond of the man, he was kind and a good friend, even if their friendship was one sided. His son trusted Pac, and so did he, he just hoped that nothing bad happened to Pac, no torture, nothing like they were doing to Lapin, which a normal, mentally sane person would feel guilty about but none of the royals could give a shit, they’d taken Pac, and he was special. 

Frantic footsteps rang past the door, backwards and forwards, all the servants in the castle had been working overtime, they all cared about Pac too, it was clear he had an impact on them. Suddenly Cellbit burst inside the room. 

“Mike did it,”

“What?”

“Come on, we don’t have time to spare, bring Ramon,”

Fit stood up, still holding Ramon in his arms and rushed out of the room following Cellbit. The castle had never felt so big, and endless, than in a moment of urgency. They reached the room, and Mike looked shaken up, and scared. He was breathing heavily, as Bagi was attempting to calm him down. 

“Mike?” Cellbit asked.

“He’s locked up in the Kingdom of the Federation,”

“Okay that’s something…”

“In an underwater prison that’s unstable that could collapse soon, he’s being tortured for information that he doesn’t know, and they aren’t afraid to kill him to get the information from Fit,”

“How do we get him back?” Fit asked.

“Either you give the information… or a trade, Ramon for Pac,”

“Hell no, I’m not giving Ramon up, I’ll tell them the fucking information,”

“What effect would that information have?”

“The Federation could potentially take over all of the other four kingdoms,”

“WHAT?”

“Yeah…”

“Why do you have that information?”

Chapter Text

Those faces, again, again and again, why couldn’t he escape them? Pac sat up. His chest rising and falling at an alarming rate, his heart physically pained his chest as it beat. Fit woke beside him, but he wasn’t really focused on the man. He pressed his fingers to his pulse point, checking he was still alive, he was, somehow. The faces of his past still plagued him, forcing him to relive them and the memories he wished to forget during a time of rest. 

“Pac? Are you okay?”

“Sim, foi só um pesadelo,” (Yeah, it was just a nightmare)

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand…”

“Nightmare-” Pac breathed heavily, “I’m fine, it’s just a nightmare, I’m gonna go to the kitchens to grab some water, do you want anything?”

“No, I’ll be fine, do you want me to come with you?”

“Não, I think I need to be alone,”

“Okay,”

Pac stumbled through the castle, some staff were awake but not many, just a few guards, but they only really guarded the royal family’s chambers, which meant Ramon and Richas were safe. Pac had a clawing feeling within his chest that something was wrong. Detrimentally wrong. 

He walked into the kitchen, to be greeted by… nobody, nobody was there, and yet he felt like somebody was. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He ignored it, perhaps he was cold, but he was in Favela, a place that was notorious for being a hot kingdom, and compared to the harsh weather of the Federation, or the cold springs of 2b2t, it was quite a pleasant temperature. 

He couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being watched, he filled the glass with water, and sipped, Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes searched the dark room. He hadn’t bothered lighting the candles but he was regretting that now. A cold breeze filled the room, Pac shivered, it shouldn’t be cold, he shouldn’t be cold. 

“Quem está aí?” (Who's there?)

No response. Of course there was no response, Pac was being silly. There was nobody there, no one was watching him, everyone was safe. He shouldn’t feel so scared, it was pathetic. Still, he felt off, like when he or Mike had been kidnapped previously. But Mike was safe, he had a goddess blessing him now. The kids should be safe, still it couldn’t hurt to check. 

Pac walked through the castle, the feeling not fleeing, he smiled at the guards, some he didn’t recognise, some he did. They opened the door to Ramon’s room for him, the little boy’s chest rose and fell in a simple pattern, still breathing, still safe. Pac smiled, thanking the guards and ensuring they were still wide awake, before walking towards Richas’ chambers, repeating his routine. 

Once he had determined they were both completely safe, their guards stood at attention, not at risk of falling asleep on duty, he began to walk back to his room. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, as he collapsed to the ground. His attacker’s face concealed by the darkness as he blinked, falling into a forced slumber. 

The first thing Pac saw was a woman, with pink hair and rosy cheeks. She wore a plain white dress that flowed to the ground, and Pac immediately recognised her as Mine, Mike’s patron goddess. 

“Olá, minha criação, como você está se sentindo?” she smiled. (Hello my creation, how are you feeling?)

“O que aconteceu?” he groaned, his body aching. (What happened?)

“Você ficou inconsciente,” her smile faltered, “Mas você ainda está vivo, minha irmã ainda não te levou,” (You became unconscious, but you're still alive, my sister hasn't taken you yet,)

“You aren’t ready for my realm yet,” a figure dressed in all black said. 

She wore a long flowy dress, layers upon layers of silk or sheer fabric, she also had a veil attached to a hat, obscuring her face.

“Who are you? And why are you speaking English? What is this place? Are Ramon and Richas safe?”

“Calm down young king,” the figure dressed in black smiled, “I’m Kristen the goddess of death and darkness, I’m sure you know Mine, but well you have a lot of gods watching over you,”

“I do?”

“Claro que sim,” Mine smiled, “Você me pegou, Kristen, Lorena, a deusa do amor, Isa, a deusa da beleza, e Tommy, o deus do caos e da diversão,” (Of course, You got me, Kristen, Lorena, the goddess of love, Isa, the goddess of beauty, and Tommy, the god of chaos and fun)

“Why are you speaking different languages?”

“Because every god has a patron follower, or multiple and we choose to speak the language of those followers, I know you’ve met Philza, he’s my patron, but we can speak any language,” Kristen smiled. 

“E sim Ramon e Richas estão seguros,” a figure dressed in pink smiled. (And yes Ramon and Richas are safe,)

“Quem é você?” 

“Eu sou Lorena,” 

“Quem é seu seguidor patrono? Eu os conheço?” (Who is your patron follower? Do I know them?)

“Você os conhece, eles só não sabem que são meus seguidores patronos ainda,” (You know them, they just don't know they are my patron followers yet,)

“Quem?”

“Cellbit and Roier”

“Oh…”

“Eu abençoei toda a sua família, de Bagi, a Mike, a você, a Richas, a Bobby, todos em sua família encontrarão o amor, seja platônico ou romântico,” (have blessed your entire family, from Bagi, to Mike, to you, to Richas, to Bobby, everyone in your family will find love, whether it is platonic or romantic,)

“Eu encontro o amor?” (I find love?)

“Claro, tanto na verdade, platonicamente com uma amizade e romanticamente também, mas não vou estragar seu futuro,” (Sure, both actually, platonically with a friendship and romantically too, but I won't spoil your future,)

“All of the gods who watch over you have a patron follower, who you know,” a blond god said. 

“Really?”

“Yes, for example my patron follower is Tubbo,”

“Oh wow, why chaos?” 

“You don’t get to choose what you are the god of, but I’m also the god of fun, and well that's a nice thing to allow people to have,”

“Oh… but why are you all watching over me? Why am I significant?”

“We don’t know… you just are,” Kristen said sadly, “Your life isn’t one of happiness, nor sorrow, it’s a constant switch between the two, but the person who knows about your life best isn’t me,”

“Sou eu,” another woman spoke up, wearing a dress made of roses.

“Isa?” 

“Sim, sou eu, olá, é um prazer conhecê-lo,” (Yes, it's me, hello, nice to meet you,)

“Por que você sabe mais sobre mim?” (Why do you know the most about me?)

“Porque você é meu seguidor patrono,” (Because you are my patron follower,)

“Eu sou?”

“Sim,” she smiled, “Eu sou a deusa da beleza, tanto nas criaturas quanto na natureza, entre outros deveres que tenho, mas você foi designada a mim em seu nascimento, sua alma é linda, você é gentil e atenciosa e isso é lindo, algo que abençoei para garantir que permaneça apesar das dificuldades que você enfrenta na vida,” (I am the goddess of beauty, both in creatures and in nature, among other duties I have, but you were assigned to me at your birth, your soul is beautiful, you are kind and caring and that is beautiful, something I have blessed to ensure remains despite the hardships you face in life,)

“Why am I seeing you all now?”

“Porque você tem uma vida infeliz, e concordamos que você precisava de alguma esperança,” Mine said. (Because you have an unhappy life, and we agree that you needed some hope,)

“I won’t see you in my realm for a while,” Kristen said, “Or anyone you love, hold onto that information and use it,”

“Use-o para lutar por si mesmo,” Isa smiled. (Use it to fight for yourself)

“Temos que nos despedir agora, pois você vai acordar em breve, e tudo o que posso dizer é: sinto muito, sinto muito, meu pequeno rei, espere um pouco,” Mine said, tears in her eyes. (We must say goodbye now, for you will soon wake up, and all I can say is: I am sorry, I am sorry, my little king, wait a little,)

“Nos veremos novamente em breve,” Lorena said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “E acredite em mim, ninguém vai te odiar, não importa o quanto você acredite que eles vão odiar, eles vão entender,” (We will see you again soon, and trust me, no one will hate you, no matter how much you believe they will, they will understand,)

When Pac woke up, his head pulsed with pain, he opened his eyes to a Federation worker opposite him, their badge said ‘WB017’ and not a name… it was odd. He blinked a few times, the haze he was in eventually dissipating. 

He looked around the carriage, the windows were covered with black cloth, the doors were tied up with rope, and all decorative pieces that would normally have been in a carriage had been removed. 

Pac moved his arm, except he didn’t. The slight burn of rope against skin, tinged at his wrist, his hands were tied together. Pac closed his eyes again, trying to calm down. Breathe in, breathe out, yet it had no effect, he had a crippling fear of being restrained, merinthophobia, he’d been diagnosed a few years after his first kidnapping as prince, alongside athazagoraphobia, the fear of being forgotten, as he had believed that his family had forgotten him, and left him to die. 

“Compose thyself,” the man in front of him said, “You aren’t going to die yet,”

“Yet?” Pac panicked.

“Indeed, we shall behold what King Cucurucho provideth for thee.”

“What doth he desire of me? What transgression have I committed against him?”

“It doth not pertain to my knowledge; mine duty was solely to escort you, not to address your trifling inquiries.,”

Pac scanned the room, desperately trying to find an escape, but for all of the possibilities he would’ve had to have his hands free, another reason for why he hated having his hands tied up. He looked down to his feet, only one leg, his prosthetic nowhere to be seen. 

“Thy prosthetic resides at the rear; we would not wish thee to embark on an escape, for we are well acquainted with thy extensive record.”

“Pray tell, how dost thou possess such intimate knowledge concerning my person?”

“His Majesty King Cucurucho doth maintain emissaries in esteemed circles, as is the custom of most sovereigns,”

“But-”

“Pray, do be silent, for we embark upon a lengthy sojourn, and I have no desire to contend with your incessant murmurings.”

Pac fell in and out of consciousness multiple times during the long journey to the Federation, his injuries were bad, he most likely had a concussion, and possibly worse, yet he wasn’t really bothered by them, he was more scared for what was to come. If Cucurucho planned to kill him, why would he have been brought to Federation, so… logically Pac knew he wasn’t going to die, but he could prepare for the worst… torture. 

A hand landed on Pac’s wrists, over the tight rope, before he was yanked up, forced to stand. He was walked out of the carriage, and forced to kneel in gravel, the stones cutting the skin of his knee. He had been given his prosthetic back, but it wasn’t tight enough and would fall off if he tried to run, the kidnapping had been thoroughly thought out. A hand ran through his hair as it yanked his head back, his eyes landed on King Cucurucho, who had a sadistic smile on his face, behind him were the prince, Fred, and princess, Elena, of Federation, who both looked disgusted at their father’s actions. 

“Welcome King Pac,” Cucurucho grinned.

“Fuck you,” Pac spat. 

“Is that a sentiment befitting articulation before a Sovereign?”

“If you think I give a shit-”

His face stung. Cucurucho had slapped him. It wasn’t even hard, causing Pac to laugh, if Cucurucho thought he could actually hurt Pac, he’d have to go a lot further, Pac had been kidnapped far too many times, tortured twice, he could survive, what could Cucurucho do to hurt him?

“Pray tell, what dost thou find so amusing?” Elena asked, “Art thou not in pain?”

“Silence,” Cucurucho said.

“What do you even want from me?” Pac asked.

“I seek the knowledge that 2b2t possesses regarding all the other realms,”

“What information?”

“Do not feign ignorance, for I am well aware that you possess knowledge of the matter.”

“I don’t,”

“Thou art the Sovereign of 2b2t, and verily, thou art aware of the spies, those agents dispatched by King Fit, who possesses knowledge—knowledge that may serve to my advantage.”

“I am at loss, for it is his obligation, not mine.”

“Such tidings would doubtless have been conveyed to thee, had thy affections for him been genuine, and his for thee. I have scrutinized the depths of thy love; thus, I beseech thee once more, what is this knowledge?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry, please, just let me go,”

“Confineth him within the depths of the submerged dungeon.” Cucurucho turned to his guards, “Forsooth, deprive him of sustenance and hydration during the initial two days of his visitation; yet I shall grant the liberty of employing torment, providing he be afforded an hour to acclimatize beforehand.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty, is there aught else that you require?” a servant said.

“Verily, I yearn to be the first to unleash suffering... I shall rendezvous with thee in one hour; ensure he is prepared for my arrival.”

“Father-” Fred said.

“Pray, dost thou desire to subject him to torment as well?”

“Nay, I believe that employing torture is not the proper course of action; his utterances suggested veracity, perchance he remains unaware.”

“The esteemed EmCee would have confided in his beloved spouse, imparting truths unto Spreen, as divulged by Spreen himself, and EmCee held him dear; what renders Pac any disparate? Fred, thou art hereby dismissed; perchance thou mayst glean wisdom from thy sister, who seeks not to hinder the advancement of the Federation.”

“Yes father, sorry father,”

Pac had been dragged into an underwater cell. The odd drip coming down from the ceiling, the sound of water droplets would slowly drive him insane. He had two guards stationed outside his cell, and three more on the way out; they had clearly read about his previous escapes. He sighed, knowing that his future wouldn’t end here, but he would be forced to spend a long time here. Lorena’s words echoed through his mind ‘no one will hate you’ what would he do that would lead him to believe people would hate him? what would his torture drive him to do? It hadn’t even started yet and he was already panicking, he needed to calm down, Cucurucho wanted information that he couldn’t offer, he just needed to pray and hope that his family would find him soon. Did they even know he was missing? 

Footsteps echoed through the hall, sharp sounds following each of Cucurucho’s steps, keys clinking together, a more subtle but still harsh sound. He heard the greetings of the guards with Cucurucho, but he refused to look up, refusing to look at the man. Cucurucho grabbed him by the neck, but Pac still refused to meet his eye. 

“Last chance to speak… what will it be?”

“...”

“If that is what you wish,” Cucurucho sighed, “Just know, that I did not wish to do this,”

Cucurucho unsheathed a dagger from his belt. Pac took a deep breath, preparing for the first cut, it was nothing right? Cucurucho lifted the blade to his neck, lifting Pac’s head with the sharp blade, slowly making a shallow cut under his chin, forcing Pac to look at him. 

“I want my face to plague your nightmares,”

Cucurucho swiftly moved the dagger, cutting Pac’s chin. Blood slowly dribbled down his neck, and down his chest. It didn’t really hurt, but Pac was probably in shock, adrenaline protecting him from the pain. Pac hadn’t even realised that his arms had been untied, the rope, which had rubbed his wrists raw, was shoved into his mouth by Cucurucho. The dagger was brought up to his face, cutting his cheek, nothing had been too deep so far, Pac had lost his leg, did Cucurucho really think that a few cuts would get him to talk? Even if he did know what the man wanted. A sharp punch in the gut was quick to wind him, knocking the air right out of him. Pac swallowed. Pac closed his eyes. Hoping for mercy, knowing he wouldn’t get it.

Three more men entered the cell, each holding different torture weapons, from daggers, to ropes, to buckets of water, something Pac did not look forward to, to pliers, but there was nothing Pac could do, he couldn’t offer them information, he couldn’t escape, they had taken his prosthetic from him once more. 

His head was grabbed, as he was yanked by his hair and thrown across the room. One of the guards picked him up and held him against the wall by the neck, cutting off his oxygen, but before he could black out, he was dropped to the ground, several cracks could be heard as he collided with the ground. One of the guards knelt down next to him, he punched Pac in the face multiple times, causing Pac to bruise heavily, pinks, purples, yellows and blacks covering Pac’s, once beautiful, face. Cucurucho grabbed the dagger and stabbed it into Pac’s upper thigh, causing him to cry out in pain, muffled by the piece of rope, still in his mouth. 

A bucket of ice-cold water was dumped over his face, causing him to cough and splutter and he tried to clear his airways from the liquid. One of the guards twisted the dagger that Cucurucho had stabbed him with. Pac was whimpering but he couldn’t hear himself, not over the sadistic laughter of his tormentors. He was sure he was crying, not that it could be seen from the water still dripping from his hair. 

Pac’s head hit the wall as he was chucked against it, his vision swam, barely maintaining consciousness, he knew it would only get worse until his family found him, he would have to find a coping mechanism to deal with this, he couldn’t die, Kristen said he wouldn’t die, he wasn’t ready for her realm. Could she control who joined her realm though? He didn’t really know much about the gods, and he literally just found out that the goddess of beauty was his patron. 

“Alright that’s enough,” Cucurucho said, “We shall return to this matter on the morrow; tend to his needs with little care, yet ensuring he does not meet his demise.”

Pac’s vision finally failed, black was all he could see, his eyelids gradually closed, as he welcomed the warm embrace of sleep.

When Pac woke, his arms, and legs were bandages, he could hear the snickering of guards stationed outside his cell, but they swiftly ceased as they walked away, scouting the perimeter of the dungeon.

Kristen appeared in front of him. Wearing the same, layered dress and veil that she wore when he first met her. Her smile was kind, yet pained inside. 

“You welcome death too easily, young king,” she smiled.

“I did embrace slumber, and not demise,” he coughed, blood seeping out of his mouth.

“Slumber is yet another realm over which I preside; akin to the eternal repose, devoid of anguish or tribulation, save for the occasional nightmare to remind thee of the mortal sphere.”

“Why are you here?”

“We are all beset with guilt; we wield divine power, yet are powerless to assist thee. We possess knowledge of the duration of thy suffering, which shall be most unenjoyable, and we foresee how it shall culminate. The sole manner in which we may aid thee is by bestowing upon thee the gift of hope.”

“Hope isn’t a gift,”

“Is it not so? Hope bestows upon thee a purpose to exist, a cause to contend, and the resolve to persevere.”

“Thou dost profess that I shan't meet my demise in this place, and yet here I stand, poised upon the precipice of death.”

“Most cherished Pac, thou shalt not encounter thy premature end in this realm; rather, thy passing shall be embraced by those who hold thee dear. Yet, alas… destiny is mutable, a truth known to us deities, which fills our hearts with both trepidation and dread.”

“Is there no goddess of fate?”

“There is…”

“But?”

“Yet, not in the manner thou dost conceive... destiny is composed of myriad elements, commencing with Mine, the inception of all that is living and inanimate, and concluding with my essence, encapsulated within the demise and obliteration of all things...”

“So, fate is a matter upon which all divine beings must strive in unison.”

“Verily, this signifies that each deity possessed the might to alter the destiny of any creature.”

“And my fate?”

“Is one that is constantly changing, for better and for worse,”

“Why?”

“I am unsure,”

“Oh…”

“Yet I entreat thee to persist in thy noble struggle, dear little king, for we are all diligently watching over thee and striving to assist thee in the most humble of manners. Expect visits from each of us in the days henceforth, and we aspire that such efforts shall be sufficient to bolster thy resolve, for, alas, there exists no sanctuary for thee within mine own realm, at least not for the present”

“Why do you all care for me? You have no obligation to,”

“Why do you love Mike? Or Richas?”

“I don’t know, I just do,”

“It beareth resemblance for us; we hold thee in our affection and esteem, yet, despite our limited ability to assist thee, we can bestow our blessings upon thee, albeit our blessings are not without their limitations,”

“Never did I perceive that the deities were bound by limitations.”

“Verily, we possess not an abundance of such, yet we are governed by edicts, principles that demand our unwavering adherence.”

“Why?”

“Ere thy presence graced our realm, we were bereft of laws, and the realms of heaven, earth, and hell, along with all other dominions, lay in disarray. Though such tumult was to Tommy's liking, he too beheld the folly therein, for whilst he reigns over chaos, he doth also seek equilibrium,”

“I am to be beaten again tomorrow, what is your advice?”

“Might you pursue cherished reminiscences to provide solace, for they may transport you to serene realms of joy? Yet, I must caution thee, such indulgence may bear grievous repercussions in the morrow,”

“What type of repercussions?”

Chapter Text

Fit hadn’t expected to be interrogated whilst Pac was kidnapped. They’d only just gotten information from Lapin, and Bagi was working on it to figure out exactly where Pac was, but Cellbit, Mike and Felps had decided that the information he knew should be shared. 

Fit rolled his eyes, refusing to share the information. He had been in possession of it for years and yet he hadn’t taken over the other four kingdoms, he couldn’t trust them, no way, sure maybe he had threatened to take over Favela but it was an empty threat, not true intention behind it. 

“Why won’t you just tell us?” Mike asked.

“Forsooth, as thou art devoid of trust, so too doth no soul possess it.”

“Thou art already apprised of this information.” Cellbit stated, “Pray, what qualities do you possess that render thee worthy of such a distinction?”

“Pray, is Pac currently incarcerated, and dost thou seek to pursue this endeavor instead of locating him forthwith?”

“Don’t try to manipulate us,” Felps stated.

“Very well… For many a year, throughout the vast majority of my sovereign reign, I have held this knowledge, not by deliberate design, yet it has come to be mine; I have not besieged any realm, does this not render me deserving of honour?”

“Thou didst threaten to besiege us,” Cellbit stated.

“An empty threat,”

“It was?” Mike said, “Thus, doth Pac find himself condemned to an existence steeped in wretchedness due to a mere feigned menace?”

“In plain terms, indeed,”

“Thou art a most ignoble scoundrel.”

“Look can we just go find him-”

“Not until you tell us,”

“Thou art engaged in the self-same pursuits as Cucurucho.” Fit pointed out.

“He’s not wrong…” Felps whispered.

“He doth not find himself in bondage, nor is he restrained; in truth, he is a man of freedom. Thus, I declare, we engage not in kindred actions.,”

“It’s a book,” Fit said.

“What?” Mike asked.

“This tome catalogues every entrance, exit, edifice, individual, and enterprise across all kingdoms; it further encompasses truths regarding the sovereigns, including those whom they cherish and their aversions. Indeed, it is the quintessential instrument for the art of influence over others.,”

“And you gained this how?” Cellbit asked.

“Via spies,”

“You have spies?”

“As do you,” Fit spat, “We are all well acquainted with Lord Walter Bob; let us not indulge in hypocrisy, for every sovereign possesses their unseen eyes.”

“I-”

“Cellbit,” Mike shut him up, “He hath imparted unto us all that he deems fit; let us acquiesce and proceed forthwith to seek Pac.”

“Verily, Mike doth speak the truth; I possess no inclination to divulge further, thus, shall we now proceed to seek out Bagi?”

“Very well... yet let it be known; our discourse shall resume forthwith upon the discovery of Pac.”

Once they found Bagi, they all began speaking of a plan of action. Many disagreements spiralled, and plans were disengaged. Ramon and Richas eventually ran into the room, informing everyone of how long they had been inside, as the boys had been saying goodnight, preparing themselves for bed. 

“I don’t think they are safe here,” Fit said, gesturing to Ramon and Richas.

“I must profess that I deem them to be in peril here as well, yet I find no refuge within your castle, for both havens have recently endured incursions.” Bagi agreed.

“I know a place…” Fit admitted, “From the book…”

“Who would accompany them?” Cellbit asked.

“Philza, and a person of your choosing,” 

“Cherry?” Mike asked, “We’ve trusted Richas with her, practically his entire life,”

“Should Bobby go with them?” Roier asked.

“He could technically return to Fools, or join them, it is your choice,” Cellbit said. 

“His safely is my priority, so he’ll join them, if that is no issue,”

“Of course,”

“Felps?” Cellbit asked.

“Sim?”

“Go fetch Philza, Cherry and Bobby please, they will make their departure shortly,”

“Yes your majesty,” Felps bowed, swiftly turning and leaving the room.

Fit slept alone in bed that night, well actually, he didn’t sleep. The bed was cold, lonely, and too big. It felt weird and quite frankly strange to be sleeping without Pac by his side. He tossed and turned all night long, flipping the pillows, laying both on top of and underneath the duvet, and yet no luck. The long hours of the night passed by slowly, before Pac, when he couldn’t sleep, he would go to Ramon’s room and hug his son until slumber welcomed him, and yet… he couldn’t, as Ramon. 

A bright light suddenly filled the room, causing Fit to squint as the figure of a woman appeared. She had pink hair and a long flowy white dress. 

“Hello!” she smiled. 

“Hi…” he grumbled, “Who are you?”

“I’m Mine, goddess of creation,”

“Why are you here?” 

Fit slowly sat up, reaching under his pillow to reach the dagger that he had placed underneath it, whilst he may be facing a god, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure, and you could never be too careful.

“A dagger won’t harm me,” she laughed, “But good try, has Pac told you about Mike’s relationship to the gods?”

“A little but not much,”

“Verily, I am the revered patron goddess of Mike; he doth pay homage unto me, and I bestow my blessings upon him and those who hold his affection. Thus, it encompasses thee and Pac as well.”

“Hold on, me?”

“Yeah,” 

“Why me?”

“The morrow and destiny are indeed intricate...” she beamed, “Yet at this very moment, we find ourselves beset with matters of great urgency to address,”

“Indeed, alas, our dear Pac hath been abducted, and we are unable to locate him.”

“I know where he is,”

“You do? Please, tell me,”

“He resides within the esteemed Federation, as thou art aware, in a submerged dungeon, of which thou art likewise cognizant; yet, perchance, the dungeon doth lie in proximity to the principal castle of Cucurucho, a mere fifty kilometres hence, towards the vast ocean.”

“Pray tell, what compels thee to offer thine assistance? Ought not the deities perchance to observe and indulge in mirth?”

“Not all among us, yet many do extend their assistance to those whom you cherish and hold in esteem; moreover, the deity of 2b2t toils diligently to render aid unto you in particular.”

“There’s a god of 2b2t?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “Pray, allow me to return to our dear Pac; he presently endures torment, as one might envision. Yet, certain celestial beings assist him in sustaining his spirits. I must, however, forewarn thee that his mental state shall not be well when thou dost discover him.”

“So, what do we do?”

“At this very moment, I find myself engaged in a discourse with Mike; thus, I beseech thee to convene posthaste upon my departure. Pray, ensure provision of sustenance, potable water, blankets, towels, spare garments, and, verily, transport back to 2b2t with utmost urgency.”

“Shall he not desire to return hither?”

“No, no, he won’t,”

“Why?”

“I am constrained from divulging all, for even I, as a goddess, lack the omnipotence to provide every answer. Thus, attend to the counsel I have imparted, and ready thyself for the gravest of eventualities.”

“Yes ma’am,”

“And Fit?”

“Yeah,”

“Pray, ready thyself for the imminent arrival of additional goddesses, for we possess much wisdom to impart unto thee,”

“Might I pose yet another inquiry, unassociated with Pac?”

“Yes, my dear creation, what is it?”

“Wherefore do I yet draw breath? For what reason am I titled King? What merit hath granted me this esteemed appellation?”

“Thou art a being of remarkable distinction, possessing unwavering morals, which the deity of 2b2t hath discerned within thee and hath duly favoured. Moreover, thy continued existence upon this mortal plane is an indication that the hour to reunite with mine sister in the eternal realm of death hath not yet arrived. Thou art destined to traverse a life replete with both delight and sorrow ere that fateful moment,”

“Has Mike seen our entire conversation?”

“No, he’s had the similar conversation, regarding Pac, with me at the same time, but with slightly different information,”

“Thank you Mine,”

“It is my utmost pleasure, cherished creation, yet I must take my leave forthwith; however, I shall reunite with thee anon, for Mike shall rap upon your door in nearly three seconds hence.”

Fit waited in Pac’s room for Mike to arrive, it was still pitch black at night, and reminded Fit of the day when Pac left for a glass of water. He couldn’t think about that though, he just had to focus on getting Pac back. 

The sound of knocks filled the room, he got up from Pac’s bed and opened the door, to see a very panicked Mike, which fair enough, he was still holding the dagger. Mike paced around Pac’s room a few times, before eventually calming himself down and sitting on Pac’s bed. 

“Are you ready to talk now?” Fit asked, “Or do you need a few more minutes,”

“This hour is ill-suited for sardonic remarks,” Mike spat.

“Pray, allow me to assure thee, I meant not to speak in jest… My heart is truly beset with concern for thy well-being, for thou dost appear unwell, even most pallid,”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I’m a human, with empathy,”

“Oh…”

“Anyway, your goddess?”

“Oh right! Yes, what did she tell you?”

“Hints to where Pac is being held,”

“We were told different things, she told me that, do you have any paper?”

“Uh… I think Pac left some in his desk,”

“We need to combine information,”

Mike walked over to Pac’s desk, tugging on one of the draws, only for it to be locked. He turned around, to face Fit, and raised an eyebrow. Fit shrugged in response. Mike turned back around and opened another draw, inside a small quill and some paper lay. Mike picked it up and began to write. 

“He’s being tortured,” Fit blurted.

“HE’S WHAT?” Mike yelled.

“Hush, for the good folk are in slumber; yet, there exists a submerged prison where he is confined, and there they engage in his torment.”

“We need to find him, quickly,”

“Pray, dost thou possess knowledge of the principal castle of Cucurucho?”

“Yeah,”

“He finds himself fifty kilometres hence from it, in the direction of the coast.”

“Verily, 'tis a commendable commencement. My divine muse hath informed me that the portal is adorned in resplendent white, and should it grace the coastal expanse, such should be self-evident...one fervently hopes.”

“Yeah… hopefully, we need a plan of action,”

“I, thou, Cellbit, and Felps shall hasten forth, whilst the noble guardians of the Favela shall lend us their esteemed support. Bagi shall remain here to tend to the kingdom in our absence.”

“The esteemed royal guard of 2b2t shall also lend us their valiant assistance.”

“Splendid, what transpires following the retrieval of Pac?”

“What do you mean?”

“Shall we declare war upon the Federation?”

“I find myself in a state of uncertainty... My desire is present, yet I am unaware whether Cellbit shall share in it; moreover, I question whether we shall garner the support from neighbouring realms...”

“Can’t you use your book?”

“The contents within are of a most immoral nature; I shall abstain from utilizing them unless no other recourse is available. Therefore, should our endeavors to reclaim Pac necessitate its use, I shall, with great reluctance, resort to it.”

“Immoral, thou dost inquire? What mysteries lie within? Thy curiosity hath piqued mine own.”

“Curiosity, the very force that hath birthed this tome, hath also wrought the downfall of countless realms…”

“Countless?”

“This tome serves as a clandestine key to myriad matters; it encompasses not only the chronicles of the present affairs within the five realms but also a wealth of historical knowledge. However, as I have previously stated, it shall remain unutilized unless we find ourselves unable to procure Pac,”

“Pray, take heed, shouldst thou declare warfare upon Cucurucho, our unwavering allegiance shall be thine, whether through Cellbit or, perchance, Bagi and myself, for we shall surely persuade him. Yet, I do opine that discourse among the four of us is requisite, following our retrieval of Pac, though I harbour doubts as to whether he shall wish to partake in our gathering.”

“Thy divinity, Mine, did impart unto me myriad revelations, among which was the assertion that Pac shall not desire to return to the Favela; yet, she offered no reasoning for such a declaration...”

“In the throes of torment and captivity, myriad thoughts assail the mind, none more pressing than the endeavor to preserve one's sanity—particularly when one bears witness to the descent into madness of others. The illustrious Pac hath previously been taken hostage; I harbour no doubt that he shall resort to a coping mechanism fraught with peril, as he hath done in times past, and assuredly shall do so once more.”

“And you?”

“What?”

“Hast thou employed injurious means of coping?”

“Verily, all those in such a predicament do indeed.”

“I see,”

“Pray tell, what stirs thy concern for the noble Pac? Doth he not appear merely as yet another soul for thy utilization? Pray, what fuels this profound regard thou dost possess for him?”

“I partake not in the manipulation of others; he is indeed a friend, or so I believe, and I hold him in high esteem for his remarkable understanding.”

“You don’t love him, do you?”

“Nay, he is merely a companion, one to whom Ramon holds in high esteem.”

“Thou dost hold Ramon in the highest affection, dost thou not?”

“Verily, he doth bear the title of my son-”

“Such certainty eludes me, for neither my esteemed father nor my beloved mother hath bestowed upon me their affection.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It is perfectly acceptable; orphanages do not present the most facile environment for one's upbringing, yet I was fortunate to have Pac.”

“In the realm of 2b2t, it is decreed that all denizens shall contribute a portion of their earnings to the noble cause of public service. Many generously bestow upon orphanages; I have heard that Pac intends to confer with Cellbit regarding its implementation within Favela.”

“He did… and well um…”

“What?”

“We may have overreacted…”

“That’s what the argument was about?”

“Yes…”

“It is no marvel that Pac was aggrieved with you all; he endeavoured to assist impoverished children with whom he resonated, yet you rebuked him for allegedly favouring 2b2t, a notion that is evidently unfounded,”

“I KNOW OKAY! IT WAS A SHITTY THING TO DO, BUT WE- UGH IT’S MORE COMPLICATED THAN YOU MIGHT THINK,”

“Pray, elucidate the matter to me, for I find it difficult to conceive of any circumstance sufficiently grave that would prompt thee to respond in such a manner, even to wield his own progeny against him.”

“I was going to apologise to him once we find him anyway…”

“You better, we probably need to get some sleep…”

“Yeah… but I can’t sleep,”

“Nor can I,”

“It is likely that Cellbit and Bagi shall devise a scheme in our absence during the early morn, thus permitting us to indulge in slumber without concern.”

“Thy divine goddess hath proclaimed that I shall soon behold additional deities; dost thou possess knowledge of any such illustrious beings?”

“Pray, I must confess, my knowledge is limited to Mine, the venerated goddess of creation, whose sister reigns as the goddess of death, though I have yet to encounter her.”

“Kristen, the deity of demise, I am well-acquainted with her; thus, creation and death, pray tell, what intrigues them concerning the lives of both Pac and myself?”

“Your life?”

“That’s what Mine said,”

“There is much upon which we must deliberate, yet I harbour doubts that we shall embark upon a quest for Pac on the morrow. Henceforth, shortly after the hour of noon, I beseech thee to rendezvous with me in the gardens of the palace, whereupon I shall entreat my goddess to grace us with her presence.”

“I’ll see you then,”

Fit did not get any sleep that night after Mike left, and he doubted that Mike got any either. His eyes had heavy bags beneath them, and he looked like a corpse that had risen from the dead, but nobody dared to say a word.

It was odd, staying in a foreign kingdom, without his husband, without his son, without his adviser and oldest friend, solely accompanied by his guard, who he rarely saw as Etoiles was always training, attempting to get stronger in case it ever happened again, because Etoiles was unfortunately injured after the attempt on his life, and even Fit knew it was one of Etoiles’ biggest regrets. 

Etoiles was a comfort though, his own family were strange, odd, not the normal nuclear family, like many expected. Fit found comfort in this, Etoiles as a friend. Whilst Ramon and Pomme rarely saw each other, when they did, they acted like siblings, and that tended to be the case with Ramon, whoever his friends were, were his siblings in spirit. 

“I’ve got your back,” Etoiles suddenly said, “I always have and I always will,”

“Pray tell, why dost thou pledge thy unwavering loyalty unto me? Thou wert the very first, I beseech thee, why?”

“I beheld thee, not as a tyrant driven by lust for dominion, nor as a mere fledgling, but as a gentleman thrust into authority, compelled by a heartfelt desire to safeguard others; and it is this noble figure I elect to support steadfastly.”

“You are a good friend Etoiles, and I can never repay you for all you have done for me, ask and you shall receive,”

“Really?” 

“Within limits but mostly yes,”

“Pomme, my daughter, I wish for her to be educated. She is currently growing up in the region of Champs-Élysées, and well whilst it’s a richer region… My family and I do not have the money to afford her education.”

“Is it possible for her to move into the castle?”

“Yes,”

“She shall receive the education of a princess, alongside Ramon, Tallulah and Chayanne,”

“Merci beaucoup,”

“Will you assist us in locating Pac?”

“With all my power, I care for Pac too, he is kind, and a good fighter,”

“That he is,” 

Chapter Text

A warm, wet liquid ran down his face. Blood. Again. The once grey and gloomy cell was painted a deep and eerie red. Pac had been left to writhe in pain for a bit before being beaten again. They weren’t accepting his pleas nor the truth, he didn’t know anything about what they were asking. Pac hadn’t slept since he arrived, and well, he didn’t know how long he’d been there, as the dungeon was underwater, so he couldn’t see the rise and fall of the sun. He was currently curled up in the corner, attempting to stop the aching from his gut, the cold stone easing the heat of his forehead, he was probably growing sick, probably from an infection as his wounds weren’t being cleaned, yet he felt warm, so terribly hot.

The goddess of death had returned, a soft smile evident on her face, she had been a constant comfort during the torture, yet not enough for Pac to not feel the pain, the only ease from the pain was the frequent rush of adrenaline to distract him.

“Hello young king,” she smiled.

“Hi,” he croaked.

“I have a visitor for you,” 

“Who?”

“Your mother, Celina,”

“What? But she’s dead-”

“Exactly, she’s from within my realm,”

In that second a woman appeared, Pac’s features a direct copy of her own. Tears welled in his eyes, and hers. Kristen nodded at Celina, before disappearing, vanishing into thin air, as if she were never there. 

“Oh, meu pobre bebê, o que fizeram com você?” (Oh, my poor baby, what have they done to you?)

“Mãe?” Pac groaned.

“Sim meu amor, estou aqui, estou aqui, estou com você,” she wrapped her arms around him, a cooling sensation laying over him. (Yes my love, I'm here, I'm here, I'm with you,)

“Sinto muito, mãe, sinto muito por não poder te proteger,” (I'm sorry mãe, I'm sorry I couldn't protect you,)

“Não é sua culpa meu amor, seu trabalho não é me proteger, esse é meu trabalho, estou tão orgulhoso de você,” (It's not your fault my love, your job is not to protect me, that's my job, I'm so proud of you,)

“Sinto muito não ter conseguido cumprir minha promessa,” (I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise,)

“Sua promessa ainda não foi cumprida,” (Your promise has not yet been fulfilled,)

“Eu sou casado, no entanto… Eu nunca vou amar do jeito que você queria que eu amasse,” (I'm married, though... I'll never love the way you wanted me to,)

“Eu posso ver o seu futuro, e estou tão orgulhoso de você, Cellbo, Bags, Mikey, e até mesmo do pequeno Richinhas, eu queria tê-lo conhecido,” (I can see your future, and I'm so proud of you, Cellbo, Bags, Mikey, and even little Richinhas, I wish I could have met him,)

“Eu queria que ele tivesse conhecido a avó, ele teria te amado” (I wish he had met his grandma; he would have loved you)

“E Ramon, ele é tão fofo, e ele confia em você, uma honra que poucos têm,” (And Ramon, he's so sweet, and he trusts you, an honour few have,)

“Realmente?”

“Sim, meu rapaz,” (Yes, my boy,)

“Eu te amo mãe, sinto tanto sua falta,” (I love you mãe, I miss you so much,)

“Eu também sinto sua falta, meu filho, meu menino, meu pequeno Pacey,” (I miss you too, my son, my boy, my little Pacey,)

“Quão graves são meus ferimentos?” (How serious are my injuries?)

“Ruim…” she sighed, tears rolling down her cheeks, yet not touching the physical world, “Mas você ficará bem, você sobreviverá, eu só preciso que você seja forte,” (Bad… but you'll be okay, you'll survive, I just need you to be strong,)

“Estou com medo, mãe, estou com tanto medo,” (I’m scared, mãe, I’m so scared)

“Eu sei, meu anjo, eu sei, eu queria poder tirar sua dor de você, e eu sinto muito, eu sinto muito por não termos passado muitos anos juntos... porque se eu ainda estivesse lá, Cucurcuho nunca teria te levado, não sem um exército arrombando a porta da frente da Federation” (I know, my angel, I know, I wish I could take your pain away from you, and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry we didn't get to spend many more years together... because if I was still there, Cucurcuho would never have taken you, not without an army breaking down the Federation's front door.)

“O que eu faço? Por favor, preciso do seu conselho,” (What do I do? Please, I need your advice,)

“Pacey,” she sighed, “Só vai piorar, não vou mentir... por que você acha que a deusa da morte me permitiu visitá-lo?” (It's only going to get worse; I'm not going to lie... why do you think the goddess of death allowed me to visit you?)

“Oh…”

“Sim... mas eu preciso que você saiba, eu estou cuidando de você, zelando por você, protegendo você dos céus, de todas as maneiras que eu puder,” (Yes... but I need you to know, I'm watching over you, watching over you, protecting you from the heavens, in every way I can,)

“Obrigado…” Pac smiled, “Quanto tempo nos resta?” (How much time do we have left?)

“Cerca de cinco minutos, por quê?” (About five minutes, why?)

“Podemos apenas nos abraçar?” he sniffled, “Preciso da minha mãe e queria poder falar com você, mas acho que minhas cordas vocais não estão funcionando depois de apanhar tanto,” (Can we just hug? I need my mãe and I wish I could talk to you, but I think my vocal cords aren't working after being beaten so much,)

“Claro meu amor, seja o que for que você precise, eu te amo muito, e sinto muito por ter ido embora cedo, minha morte... Eu queria ter tido mais anos com você,” (Of course my love, whatever you need, I love you so much, and I'm sorry for leaving you early, my death... I wish I had more years with you,)

“Mamãe?”

“Sim?”

“Você poderia cantar uma canção de ninar para mim como costumava fazer?” (Could you sing me a lullaby like you used to?)

“Claro, meu bebê,” (Of course, my baby)

Punch in the gut, punch in the head, dunked in water, hit with a chair chucked across the room, repeat. Cucurucho’s workers had all discovered their favourite methods of torture, and once Cucurucho had discovered Pac’s fear of being tied up, well he only took advantage of that. 

So that was where Pac currently was, tied to a chair, having his hair yanked in multiple directions as the men tried to get him to speak. Pac didn’t flinch, nor did he cry, he’d had enough, as soon as he could free his hand, he would fight back. 

Cucurucho circled him, dragging the dagger, in his hand, across Pac’s body, lightly, as if it were a simple touch, not harsh enough to scar or even to cut, yet sharp enough to pull on the threads of Pac’s clothes. This was clearly Cucurucho’s favourite part of torture, the psychological aspect. Pac closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing, he had to be strong, for his mother, she wanted him to be strong and so he would be. 

Pac sighed as he opened his eyes, confused to see Cucurucho as the sole member in the room with him. His guards had left. Cucurucho grazed the dagger over Pac’s skin, the skin that was red raw enough, it didn’t need blood added into the mix. A hand grabbed his chin, wrenching his head. Whiplash shocked his neck as pain shot up through his spine. The sadistic grin of Cucurucho was something he knew would haunt him, but right now, he had to get through it. Pac snapped his head, biting down on Cucurucho’s hand, hard. The King screamed at the sudden but little pain, before slapping Pac across the face. 

“You little brat,” he spat, “You will come to rue that decision.”

“Why what are you going to do? Torture me?” Pac laughed sarcastically.

“Pray, how dost thou maintain such elevated spirits whilst being utterly alone, and for a span of five days at that?,”

“FIVE DAYS?”

“Verily, thou wert unaware; how pitiable indeed,” Cucurucho mocked.

“I don’t have the information you want,”

“I disagree,” 

Pac received a harsh blow to the face, blood flowed down his face one more, dripping onto the cold cell floor. If his cell wasn’t completely covered in red by the time he left, it would be a miracle. The two guards had returned, one of them picked Pac up, who was still tied to the chair, and chucked him across the room. The chair splintered, impaling Pac in several places. The ropes still bound him to the broken chair, the pieces crumpled in a corner. One of the guards, whose name he had come to recognize as José, began to walk towards him, and Pac dreaded his next move, José had a strong punch, Pac had bruises around his eyes to prove it. 

José lifted him up by the collar of his shirt, which was barely existent as it had practically been destroyed. Pac spluttered, coughing up blood, his head span, dizziness his only friend in this dark time, because while the gods were kind, he couldn’t be sure they really existed, and weren’t a figment of his imagination trying to find hope. His vision blacked out as he hit the wall, dark spots circling his vision. Blood oozing out of every wound. 

“I don’t have what you want,” he cried, “I can’t-”

Punch. He couldn’t escape it. They didn’t believe him, and he couldn’t get them to, he felt so very alone. His mother visiting was a comfort, sure, but she wasn’t there during this time, when he needed her most, and he knew that wasn’t her fault but it still hurt. Several knives and daggers had been pushed into his legs, arms and even gut, always missing vital organs, and always being bandaged after, so he couldn’t die, so when Cucurucho pulled out another knife, Pac wasn’t even scared anymore, he just took it, he didn’t complain, he couldn’t argue anymore, he wouldn’t. Fighting back was exhausting and get him nowhere, so what was the point.

He closed his eyes, not daring to watch as Cucurucho pulled out his next weapon, Pac didn’t know whether the mystery was better or worse, but he’d feel the same pain regardless. The adrenaline of the first few hits had worn off, so he could feel every single punch, slap, cut, nick or bruise. His skin was raw, a mix of red and black, disgusting to look at. He couldn’t even bear to look at it, Pac had destroyed the mirror in the room on his third day. The sharp glass had cut him, but it hurt less than looking at his broken reflection. 

Day six. Pac wasn’t sure if he’d survive the day. The brutal assault had been going on for at least two hours at his point, he was coughing up blood and spitting it out, his vision swam and he body ached, he would probably die if it didn’t stop.

“He won’t survive much longer,” a voice from outside the cell said.

Pac looked up, Fred. The prince who had tried to defend him. The men stopped attacking him, momentarily.

“He shall surely meet his demise, whether by the ravages of dehydration, the pangs of starvation, or the cruel assaults thou dost inflict upon him.”

“Good,” Cucurucho spat.

“It is ill-fated, for thou must extract knowledge from him; his demise shall hinder thy quest. Dost thou truly believe that the merciless king shall permit thy survival should Pac meet his end?”

“Nay, he would not, would he? Yet perchance, should we impose the specter of Pac's demise, he may be inclined to surrender the sought-after intelligence.”

“Allow me to attend to Pac, ensuring his survival, whilst thou mayest resume thine unyielding onslaught on the morrow.”

“Fine,”

Cucurucho and his men left the room, whereas Fred walked inside. He knelt down to Pac’s level and helped him to his feet, walking him over to the bed in the corner, letting Pac lie down.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do much-”

“Thou dost defy thine own sire, for my sake, prithee, why dost thou do so?”

“My esteemed progenitor possesses an excess of power, yet he covets further dominion; he is a tyrant, and in truth, I harbour a profound disdain for him.”

“Pray tell, why dost thou not seek thy escape?”

“Thus was the design, until thou wert abducted; I could not bear to abandon thee in this place.”

“What?”

“Were I to depart, thou wouldst already be laid low by my father’s wrath; thy demise would herald a succession of many. I concede that escape be necessary, yet I know not whither to flee.”

“Either of the illustrious Kingdoms of 2b2t or Favela dost await thy esteemed presence with open arms,”

“Thy benevolence doth endure, albeit mine own flesh and blood hath inflicted upon thee a wound.”

“Thou art not thy sire; I, for one, am acutely aware of this verity,”

“Might I present a most noble scheme, should you desire to partake in its revelation?”

“Yes,”

“I shall confer with His Majesty King Cellbit and His Majesty King Fit, who shall await thee at the border, whence I shall assist thee in thy flight from this realm.”

“Yet we find ourselves distant from the frontier, for we repose by the seashore, do we not? I can perceive the whispers of the waves.”

“Indeed, 'tis so, and thus our task shall prove to be vexing; however, hast thou not eluded capture ere now?”

“Yes…”

“A matter of several days shall unfold, and thou must bear this trial for but a few more days hence.”

“How many more?”

“Three or four…”

“If that is all, then let it be so; shalt thou refrain from speaking against thy father henceforth.”

“Why not?”

“Shouldst thou proceed thus, he shall commence to harbour doubts regarding our scheme; therefore, exhibit unwavering obedience before him, and perchance he shall remain in blissful ignorance,”

“Understood,”

“I express my deepest gratitude for thy assistance; thou shalt be bestowed with esteemed rank in both Favela and 2b2t.”

“It is but the most modest service I could render, King Pac.”

“Thou hast accomplished much already,”

Pac’s will to live was diminishing. He couldn’t endure the pain, it was intense, and likely going to kill him anyway, but the goddesses told him to remain strong, his mother told him to remain strong, and Fred was going to get him out soon. 

What was Kristen’s advice?

Use memories to help him through the difficult time. He closed his eyes, receiving a punch to the gut as he did so, and began to think back to his childhood.

It took a while for Pac and Mike to settle into thee castle, becoming princes was something that occurred about a year after moving in. Their new father’s temper was difficult but they learnt how to avoid it, and they loved their siblings. Pac’s twelfth birthday went, as he was declared next in line for the throne, and crown prince.

Cellbit and Pac were playing in the gardens, climbing trees and fighting, whereas Bagi and Mike were painting together, laughing at Cellbit and Pac’s antics. Loud screams rang from inside the castle. All four children froze. Pac immediately grabbed Cellbit’s wrist, pain shooting through his hand as it was hit. No, it wasn't hit that was current, not his memory. 

Pac grabbed Cellbit’s wrist and dragged him towards the shed, yelling at Bagi and Mike to follow, they both did. Pac shut them all inside the shed, before running out to collect Bagi and Mike’s painting supplies, unfortunately he was caught. 

“Que porra você está fazendo aqui, criança?” his father said, rage radiating off him. (What the fuck are you doing here, kid?)

“Eu estava aproveitando o lado de fora-” (I was enjoying the outside-)

“BEM, VOCÊ DEVERIA ESTAR DENTRO, VOCÊ QUERIA SER UM PRÍNCIPE, ISSO SIGNIFICA FICAR DENTRO DO CASTELO,” (WELL YOU SHOULD BE INSIDE, YOU WANTED TO BE A PRINCE, THAT MEANS STAYING INSIDE THE CASTLE,)

“Sinto muito, majestade,” he bowed. (I'm sorry, your majesty,)

“PATÉTICO, VOCÊ É HONESTAMENTE PATÉTICO, E VOCÊ ESPERA SE TORNAR REI UM DIA, CELLBIT SERIA MELHOR PARA O PAPEL, ATÉ BAGI SERIA, E ELA É UMA GAROTA,” (PATHETIC, YOU ARE HONESTLY PATHETIC, AND YOU EXPECT TO BECOME KING ONE DAY, CELLBIT WOULD BE BETTER FOR THE ROLE, EVEN BAGI WOULD BE, AND SHE IS A GIRL,)

“Desculpe-” (I’m sorry)

Pac received a slap to the face. He ran away from the man he called his father, he’d been adopted by the King, for two years and yet the man still didn’t consider him a person, someone worthy of love. 

Perhaps that wasn’t the best memory to get him through torture, considering it left him in physical pain. Maybe one of him and Mike on the street would help.

Pac coughed, Mike coughed, Pac sneezed, Mike sneezed. They were both sick, and on the streets that was deadly, they had nearly run out of medication, so Pac, whilst Mike was in the haze of sleep, fed it to him, despite his brother’s protests, Mike needed it more, he was younger, and despite how close to death Pac may be, Mike was more deserving of life, Pac had lived longer. 

They were running out of supplies, neither of them having been well enough to steal supplies, instead using them all up in their sickness. Pac would have to steal again, and try not to get caught.

“Eu vou roubar-” Pac said, interrupted by a coughing fit. (I will steal-)

“Não é assim que você não é,” Mike laughed, “Você será pego imediatamente,” (Not like that you aren’t, you’ll get caught immediately)

“Bem, o que mais deveríamos fazer?” (Well, what else should we do?)

“Vou roubar, não estou mais com tosse, só com um resfriado,” (I'm going to steal, I don't have a cough anymore, just a cold,)

“Não, você não está roubando sozinho, não quero que você se machuque ou seja pego pela polícia,” (No, you're not stealing alone, I don't want you to get hurt or caught by the police,)

“Você rouba sozinho o tempo todo, e eu sou tão capaz quanto você,” (You steal alone all the time, and I'm just as capable as you,)

“Claro que sim, mas eu te coloquei nessa confusão, então eu cuido de você,” (Of course, but I got you into this mess, so I'll take care of you,)

“Por favor, Pacey?”

“Tudo bem... você tem uma hora, não me importo se você voltar de mãos vazias, chegue na hora,” (Okay... you have one hour, I don't care if you come back empty handed, be on time,)

Mike did return, and he had something, or rather someone with him. Pac sighed when he saw the adult beside Mike. He’d been found. Or actually not… Sra. Maria was walking beside him. Her expression was one of worry, not anger. 

“Pacey?” Mike cried, “Encontrei a Sra. Maria, ela disse que ajudaria,” (I met Mrs. Maria, she said she would help,)

“Pac? Pac Tazer?” she called.

“Aqui,” he coughed.

“Oh, pobre criança, você realmente deveria voltar para o orfanato.” (Oh, poor child, you really should go back to the orphanage.)

“Não, nenhum orfanato,” Mike grumbled. (No, no orphanage,)

“Ok, nada de orfanato, mas um hospital, vou fingir que vocês dois são meus filhos, vocês precisam de atenção médica, vocês vão morrer sem ela,” (Okay, no orphanage, but a hospital, I'll pretend you two are my children, you need medical attention, you'll die without it,)

“Por que você se importa?” Pac asked. (Why do you care?)

“Eu me importo tanto com vocês dois, meu coração se partiu quando vocês foram embora,” (I care so much about you two, my heart broke when you left,)

Bruises, bumps, cuts, scrapes, wounds, blotches and scars covered his weary body, as he drifted in and out of consciousness, two days till his rescue, if all went well, he could make it, he had to. Another injury was added as Cucurucho punched him square in the gut, he hadn’t eaten in days, and his stomach was in agony, but Pac couldn’t tell whether the pain was from the countless punches, and stab wounds or from the lack of food and sustenance. Whilst he had received water, it was limited and not pleasant. 

He had thrown up several times, the stench of vomit, had filled the room as the pile occupied a corner, and yet Cucurucho’s attacks did not cease, not even after Pac’s body had received all it could and more. 

His clothes had been destroyed long ago, and in fact, he wore an entirely new set, gifted to him by Fred. Pac was scared, so very scared, but he was unsure of what to do, except receive the beating and pray to whatever god would listen. 

Cucurucho and his men had decided to stop beating him so they could have lunch, offering Pac food, as a cruel joke. 

A beam of pink light flashed as two goddesses appeared in front of him. Pac smiled as he recognised them, Lorena and Isa.

“Oi,” Lorena smiled, “Você orou por nós,” (You prayed for us)

“Eu fiz… Eu não sei como sobreviver,” (I did… I don’t know how to survive)

“As memórias não ajudaram?” Isa asked. (The memories didn't help?)

“Fizeram, mas eu… não sei quais usar, tenho muitas memórias violentas e elas não ajudam,” (They did, but I… I don't know which ones to use, I have a lot of violent memories and they don't help,)

“Ajudaria se escolhêssemos as memórias para você?” Lorena asked. (Would it help if we chose the memories for you?)

“Eu suponho,” (I suppose)

“Beleza e amor, memórias cheias de beleza e amor, isso ajudaria?” Isa asked. (Beauty and love, memories full of beauty and love, would that help?)

“Sim,”

“Então é isso que faremos,” Isa smiled. (So, this is what we will do,)

“Mas também faremos companhia até que Cucurucho retorne,” Lorena said, “Infelizmente não podemos estar aqui enquanto ele também estiver aqui, mas ficaremos o tempo que você quiser até lá,” (But we will also keep you company until Cucurucho returns, unfortunately we can't be here while he's here, but we'll stay as long as you want until then,)

“Obrigado,” 

“Você sente falta dele, não é?” Isa asked. (You miss him, don't you?)

“Você sente falta do Fit,” Lorena smirked, “Você o ama, não é?” (You miss Fit, you love him, don’t you?)

“Por que você não me conta? Você é a deusa do amor, afinal,” he laughed, a hopeless laugh. (Why don't you tell me? You are the goddess of love, after all,)

“Ok, então,” Lorena laughed, “Sim, você o ama,” (Okay, then, yes you love him)

“Eu faço?” (I do?)

“Você o acha atraente, não é?” Isa asked. (You find him attractive, don't you?)

“Bem, sim…” (Well, yes…)

“Nós somos as deusas do amor e da beleza, definitivamente afetamos sua vida amorosa,” (We are the goddesses of love and beauty, we definitely affect your love life,)

Chapter Text

The day Fit’s mother died, was painful, in the sense that half the kingdom was mourning, half of the women had been ordered to be murdered, tied to a stake, on the accusation of being witches. Fit knew his mother wasn’t a witch, yet he did know witches, many people were dying in gruesome and painful deaths, both innocent and not.

Fit watched, mouth agape, listening to his mother scream in agony, knowing if he made a move to help her, that he would die too. He watched as Rusher laughed, and smiled sadistically as many women were hung, burnt and drowned. It made Fit want to punch the old fucker right in the face, he was only fifteen, but he had already decided the King’s fate. 

The cries of children could be heard for weeks, mourning the loss of their mothers, sisters, aunts and grandmothers. Fit was officially an orphan, his father’s death having long passed, thank goodness. 

He had no home, no family, no friends, but he did have ambition, ambition to kill the bastard who called himself King of 2b2t. So, he joined the rebellion, signing up was relatively easy. 

“Name?” the commander asked.

“Fit, Fit EmCee,”

“Age?”

“Eighteen,” he lied.

“Reason for joining?”

“The bastard killed my mother and-”

“That’s good enough, one of the soldiers will show you to the armoury,”

Fit was led through the many tents, and into a slightly larger one, inside there were many swords, daggers, arrows, bows, uniforms, armour, and other necessary items, inside was a woman, around his age, he immediately spotted rope burns around her neck, a failed death… she was dangerous, you can’t put somebody on trial for the same crime twice, she was a survivor.

“Hello,” she smiled.

“Hi-”

“What’s your name, soldier?”

“Fit EmCee ma’am,”

“You don’t have to call me ma’am, I’m just a soldier too, we are the same rank, I’m Leonie,” she smiled.

“You survived didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “Couldn’t kill me the first time, so I’ll give them another chance,”

“A witch huh? Are you actually one? Or did they get it wrong?”

“Oh no, they were right,” she smirked, “They just couldn’t kill me,”

“What are we supposed to do? I was told to get armour and weapons but I don’t know after that,”

“Oh, I’ll show you to the tent you’ll be sleeping in,”

Leonie ended up being the same woman who kissed him years later, to prevent him from dying, funny that, but first she had to save his life many, many more times.

Sword to his left, sword to his right, shift to the right, shift to the left, charge, stab, pull back, dodge, challenge, duck, hit, stab, save a comrade, dodge, kill, slice, threaten, murder, blood, return to base. That was his every day, fighting again, again, and again. The progress throughout the war had been minimal, and no foreign kingdom would help either side, most didn’t like the tyrannical king, but wouldn’t stoop so low as to aid a group of peasants. Fit wouldn’t be a peasant for much longer. 

His twentieth birthday had been the day before, or at least he thought it was, keeping track of time was difficult during a war, keeping track of everything was difficult, even friends, one second you’d be laughing about the death of an enemy, the next you’d be killing without them, not a second to mourn. 

One of the commanders had made a deal with Rusher, a duel, one versus one, Rusher vs Fit. One of them would die, the war would end. Fit had to win, not just for his life, but for the lives of his comrades, the lives of all the innocent people who suffered at Rusher’s hand, he had to win, losing wasn’t an option. 

“Good luck,” Leonie said, “And don’t die, I don’t know if I can save you… again,”

“You’ve saved me three times, don’t get a big head,” he laughed.

“Remember me when you are King?”

“Of course,”

Fit suited up, Leonie handed him the best armour that the army had, and gave him the best weapons and the best advice, friendly banter. He was scared, so was she, so was the whole army, but what else could they do? If they had refused the duel, they would’ve continued to lose friends, and family. 

Fit walked to the centre of the battlefield, bodies having been cleared away so he could fight Rusher, the tyrant king could be seen sitting on a throne, that had been carried by some guards or servants. 

Fit drew his sword, one of many hidden on his body, and challenged the King. He chuckled, standing up and clapping, swiftly a servant handed the man a sword. He was arrogant, cocky, and Fit would use that to his advantage.

Fit had seen the King fight before, he always struck first, Fit wasn’t going to let him, every single day he’d studied the man’s fighting had led up to today, and he wasn’t going to let him have the upper hand in anything. 

Fit struck, a swift jab to the ribs, the King jolted backwards, hissing in pain, before regaining his footing, unfortunately Fit had only nicked him, no real damage, but he had an entire fight to kill the bastard, he’d manage. He could hear the harsh intakes of breath, that his comrades took in behind him, and the shallow breathing of the enemy team. 

Rusher attacked, trying to end the fight in one go, aiming for Fit’s heart, he easily dodged, scoffing at his audacity. Fit was a good fighter, but so was Rusher, it was not going to be an easy fight. 

Rusher charged, sword held high above his head, Fit dropped his sword, earning shock from the crowd, before grabbing a dagger from his waist, he ducked below Rusher and stabbed him in the stomach, the older man grunted, as Fit picked up his sword. Rusher pulled out the dagger, blood spilling onto the already stained grass, adding to the crimson colour. Fit swung his sword, slicing across the bare skin of Rusher’s arm. Rusher retaliated, swinging his sword erratically, and unfortunately for Fit, he hit. Blood began to spew from Fit’s stomach, but he was fine, he’d push through. Their dance continued, the sadistic grin of Rusher’s face had disappeared, instead being replaced with a look of determination. Fit swung, again, again and again, then he’d dodge, again, again and again, Rusher would do the same. 

Rusher kicked his leg out, pinning Fit to the ground, Fit grit his teeth, preparing for death, he heard the cheers of Rusher’s followers and the gasps of his. He closed his eyes. Sharp, dull, blinding, eye opening, excruciating yet simple pain erupted from his arm. Adrenaline had no effect, he felt every tendon, every muscle and every nerve snap. Rusher’s sword cruelly cut through his arm, going through bone, forcing Fit to cry out in pain, and pray to whatever god would listen to put him out of his misery. 

“FIT!” a voice screamed, Leonie.

Her voice, crying out for her friend, for him. He was going to die. He couldn’t. He made her a promise. He would remember her when he became King, he couldn’t keep his promise if he were dead, and he never broke a promise. He allowed Rusher to stand, waiting for the man to turn his back and face his army, exclaiming joyfully as if he had won. With his arm, the attached one, he reached for another dagger that Leonie had placed on his belt, he slowly stood, walking behind Rusher, his grin mimicking Rusher’s earlier one. As Rusher began to hug a friend, Fit drove the blade into his back, through his heart, before removing it and stabbing it through his lungs, enjoying the sound of Rusher drowning on his own blood. Fit took two steps back towards his army, before collapsing to the ground. The last words Fit heard before blacking out were…

“You better not die on me you bastard, you promised, keep your fucking promise, SOMEBODY HELP ME, HE’S THE NEW KING, WE CAN’T HAVE HIM DIE ALREADY!”

Fit had lost a lot during his life, his mother, his father, friends, but the one friend he never expected to lose was Leonie. She was strong, survived being trialled as a witch, survived a war, and Fit had heard a lot about her life, she was tough, yet he never expected her to die. 

He was King, doing official duties, as he normally did, when he heard the news. 

“Your majesty?” Etoiles burst into the room.

“What?”

“Mistress Leonie hath departed this mortal realm.”

“WHAT?”

“Ahem… she was consumed by flames at the stake, condemned for the grave accusation of witchcraft.”

“She hath already been tried as a sorceress, and yet, she is most innocent,”

“I am cognizant of the gravity of the matter… I express my sincerest apologies for my futile attempt to thwart it.”

“I hold thee in no reproach, noble Etoiles, yet the time hath come for the cessation of the witch trials.”

“I agree,”

“Pray, why would they disregard the counsel of a distinguished member of the royal guard?”

“I don’t know…”

“Etoiles? Dost thou dare to deceive thy sovereign?”

“Forsooth, as His Majesty Spreen did grace the occasion with his presence...”

“WHAT?”

“He didst command their unwavering perseverance, thus she did perish, her cries resounding thy name, pleading for succor.”

“AND DID NOBODY CONSIDER TO HASTEN FORTH AND RETRIEVE ME?”

“I wished not to take my leave... I harboured a profound reluctance to retrieve you only to discover that her life hath been cruelly extinguished. I beseech thy pardon,”

“Thou art blameless; I shall confer with my lord husband.”

Etoiles bowed as he left the room, fetching Spreen for Fit, as he couldn’t be bothered to search the castle, only for the man to successfully evade him. 

“Fit,” Spreen smiled.

“No,”

“What?”

“Pray, didst thou attend a trial of witchery? And didst thou insist they proceed in defiance of Etoiles’ remonstrations?”

“Pray, what troubles thee? I perceive no issue at hand,”

“THAT ENTITY WAS NO WITCH, BUT RATHER A DEAR FRIEND WHO HATH RESCUED MY LIFE COUNTLESS TIMES.”

“NAY, SHE WAS A SORCERESS; HAD SHE NOT BEEN, PERISH SHE WOULD NOT HAVE. HOW CANST THOU FAIL TO PERCEIVE THIS TRUTH?”

“SHE WAS CONSIGNED TO THE FLAMES, WHETHER WITCH OR NOT,HER FATE WAS SEALED, FOR NONE CAN ENDURE SUCH A FATE. HOW DOST THOU FAIL TO COMPREHEND THE DEPTHS OF MY SORROW? SHE WAS A CHERISHED FRIEND,”

“THERE EXISTS NO ORDINANCE PROHIBITING WITCH TRIALS,”

“NOT THUS FAR, BUT COME THE MORROW, A LAW SHALL BE ENACTED TO FORBID IT; SHE HATH ALREADY STOOD TRIAL, AND FOUND INNOCENT.”

“THOU DOST MAR THE MERRIMENT OF THE REALM,” 

“SHOULD SUCH BE YOUR CONCEPTION OF MIRTH FOR THE REALM, THEN I SHALL GLADLY ABOLISH IT; DO CALL ME THE DULL MONARCH IF YOU MUST. INNOCENT LIVES OUGHT NOT TO BE WRENCHED AWAY WITHOUT CAUSE,”

“I am embarking upon a journey to mine ancestral realm; I shall behold thee in but a few days hence.”

“Pray, ensure thy return is timely to commemorate the celebration of Ramon's natal day,”

He didn’t. Spreen did not grace them with his presence for the celebration of Ramon’s birth; in truth, he remained unaccounted for until a week thereafter. This absence stirred further discord betwixt him and Fit. It marked one of the initial instances of his vanishings, a precursor to many henceforth, leading Fit into a fervent state of alarm; yet, in time, he discerned the true essence of his husband’s nature.

Ramon’s first birthday without Spreen, was difficult. The boy cried for his father, but not Fit, he wanted Spreen, the poor boy had lost his original parents plus one, he was on a losing streak, but Fit wouldn’t let the poor boy go through more pain and misery.

He held Ramon, as the young prince sobbed into his arms, hitting Fit’s back in rage, although it didn’t hurt. Eventually Ramon calmed down, sobs turned to sniffles, hits turned to hugs, nobody thought he was being immature though, he’d lost time and time again, and it was perfectly valid. 

Philza’s son Chayanne, coincidently born on the same day, was his only friend attending. Chayanne’s little sister was too young to attend, only being less than a year old. Chayanne and Ramon had made many plans together, and of course Fit would facilitate them, it was his son, and his best friend’s son, he cared for them both dearly.

“Dad?” Ramon sniffled.

“Yeah?”

“Why have three parents left me?”

“I don’t know…” Fit admitted, “But I do know that they all made a huge mistake, you are the best son anyone could ever ask for,”

“When is Chayanne coming to celebrate?”

“He’ll be here in an hour, if you want to start getting ready?”

“Yeah, can I wear the suit that Niki tailored for me?”

“Yes, of course,”

As King Fit had many duties, to the point where he wore himself out, too much, too frequently for anyone’s liking, but he knew he must do it so he ordered people to not disrupt him, unless the castle was being attacked. He had ended up in the infirmary many times due to this, and the only people allowed to enter his office were Etoiles and Baghera, but only to guard him, not to talk. 

“Fit!” Philza called, rushing into the room.

“I’m busy,”

“We must convene, for the matter pertains to the law of 2b2t.,”

“Baghera, thou art graciously excused; prithee, await without.”

“Yes, my liege,” she bowed.

“What is it, Philza?”

“The marriage law for Kings,”

“There’s a marriage law?”

“Indeed, it doth declare that a Sovereign may remain unwed solely for the span of ten years.”

“Pray, what transpires should they surpass such a threshold?”

“Then compelled to relinquish the throne, the subsequent heir ascends to it.”

“For what duration have I remained unbetrothed?”

“Eight years…”

“Fuck,”

“Indeed, it is imperative that we procure a suitable match for thee to wed.”

“Verily, had I been aware in those times past, I would have devoted my energies to the pursuit of love rather than to labour; alas, it is not within my grasp.”

“Might we consider the prospect of a union preordained by arrangement?”

“Who might seek to wed me? My prior spouse met with execution.”

“Indeed, however, we possess the book-”

“I SHALL UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES UTILIZE THE VOLUME.”

“Pray pardon my previous inquiry, yet perchance we might assert the threat of invasion, whilst proclaiming that our sole alternative lies in the sacred union of matrimony.”

“Whilst that notion may indeed hold merit, the prospect of young Ramon being crowned upon his eighteenth year does not seem so unseemly; perchance another shall assume the role of regent, would they not?”

“...”

“Right?”

“Nay… Ramon would ascend the throne as King at the tender age of ten years.”

“Nay, verily not, pray tell, which realms possess solitary princes?”

“Pray, esteemed Federation, thou shalt find herein Fred, in Purgatory reside Wuant and SeaPeeKay, amongst the Fools dwelleth Roier, albeit he is pledged to the esteemed King Cellbit, and lastly from Favela, there art Pac and Mike,”

“Nay, Roier, should he be betrothed, I am no purveyor of home-wreckage, not Fred, I shall not entangle with the Federation...”

“Purgatory or Favela,”

“What compelling motive might I possess to besiege either of their domains?”

“Power,”

“2b2t is powerful,”

“Not as powerful as Favela,”

“What?”

“The Favela hath forged robust alliances with each and every kingdom, attaining power with most alarming swiftness.,”

“Okay… so which, prince Pac or prince Mike?”

“I hold grave doubts that Favela would wish their crown prince to depart, thus it is most likely Pac,”

“Okay…”

“Yet, I propose that we bestow upon them the privilege of choice.”

“Very well, I beseech thee to apprise Etoiles of this matter. We shall embark upon our journey in a week's time, and I shall first dispatch a missive to His Majesty King Cellbit prior to our arrival.”

“Indeed, dearest liege, may I offer mine assistance in any other matters?”

“Nay, it is imperative that I converse with Ramon forthwith.”

“At this hour, he shall be in the esteemed company of his tutor,”

“Thank you,”

When Fit told Ramon that he was going to have an arranged marriage, the boy was confused, and quite rightfully so, why would the King of one of the most powerful Kingdoms in the world need an arranged marriage? Fit didn’t tell him the real reason, he couldn’t. He didn’t however tell Ramon that if the marriage didn’t go through that it would end in war, so when Ramon said…

“You are going away to Favela, either for war or marriage,”

“How did you-”

“Chayanne,”

“Ah, and Tallulah?”

“No, she doesn’t know, Chayanne looked in Philza’s notes,”

He was confused but he ultimately accepted it. Ramon was quite mature for his age, and was smart, he figured a lot of things out before he was told. The poor boy had been through a lot of trauma, and had witnessed his only living parent suffer. 

“I love you my boy,”

“I love you too dad, now get going,”

“Upon our arrival in Favela, we shall not be received with welcoming embraces, but rather met with hostility-”

“I am quite aware, Philza,” Fit spat. 

“Pray, why dost thou exhibit such hostility? Am I not, indeed, thy friend?”

“Pray, refrain from attempting to manipulate my will; I have no desire to enter into matrimony. I do lament that Madagio did not disclose this clause ere beseeching me to ascend to the throne,”

“One may yearn for the past to have unfolded in a different manner, yet naught shall alter, for thou art only sovereign over the future.

“The morrow, for the next two days, doth behold me astride these most vexing steeds, whilst I endure a cramp in my back, weary thighs, and aching ankles. Yet, let us not leap ahead, for we are yet unaware if any shall consent to unite in matrimonial bonds with me.”

“Cellbit hath not encountered a solitary conflict during his esteemed reign, and yet he hath faced numerous threats thereof,”

“The noble lineage of Favela is bound by profound kinship; should none desire to enter the sacred bond of matrimony, I harbour no doubts that conflict shall ensue, thus necessitating our quest for a suitable consort for myself,”

“I must respectfully differ, Prince Pac, for I hold the conviction that he shall acquiesce. My research into his character reveals his lack of significant contributions to his nation; yet, he possesses an unwavering ambition. Therefore, it may be that he would endure a union with thee for the advancement of his realm,”

“We can only hope,”

“Then hope we will,”

“How’s Missa?”

“He’s good,”

“And Kristen?”

“Also good, she doth watch over thee with care.”

“What? Why?”

“She doth find thee most intriguing,”

“I find myself devoid of intrigue.”

“She doth possess knowledge of thy future, whilst thou art oblivious; perchance, thy future is indeed captivating.”

“Perhaps,”

“Pray tell, when shall we establish the inaugural encampment?”

“Upon the passing of an hour or thereabouts following the descent of the sun,”

“Etoiles?” Philza asked.

“Yes?”

“Art thou ready for our momentous arrival?”

“Oui,”

“Most agreeable, for it is possible we shall be compelled to engage in combat,”

“I am cognizant; rest assured, I am a valiant champion, having previously safeguarded the life of His Majesty, King Fit, and I stand ready to do so once more.

Chapter Text

“Pacey, você vai cantar para mim?” (Pacey, will you sing for me?)

“Claro Mikey, o que devo cantar?” (Sure Mikey, what should I sing?)

“A canção que a Sra. Maria sempre canta,” (The song that Mrs. Maria always sings,)

Nana neném
Que a cuca vem pegar
Papai foi na roça
Mamãe, no cafezal
Bicho papão
Sai de cima do telhado
Deixa o nenemzinho dormir sossegado
Nana neném
Que a cuca vem pegar
Papai foi na roça
Mamãe, no cafezal
Bicho papão
Sai de cima do telhado
Deixa o nenemzinho dormir sossegado
Nana neném
Que a cuca vem pegar
Papai foi na roça
Mamãe, no cafezal
Bicho papão
Sai de cima do telhado
Deixa o nenemzinho dormir sossegado

Pac sang to Mike, for as long as it took for the little boy to fall asleep. He’d been ill recently, and they hadn’t been able to get medicine, the orphanage couldn’t afford it, so Pac resorted to stealing, he didn’t get caught, maybe he could get away with stealing more? 

Pac grabbed the lock, and lifted it to face the light, Mike handed him a bobby pin, he shoved it inside, twisted it until he heard the click, then opened it. They were inside. Mike snuck in first, being the shorter, and younger of the two, he would get off easier, if they did get caught, which very rarely happened. 

Mike walked up to the shop’s cash register, and picked it’s lock, pulling out small amounts of money, if they took too much news would spread, but if they took R$ 75, it could be a counting mistake on the shop’s part, besides they lived in a relatively poor area, it wouldn’t buy them much, but hopefully they’d be able to get food and water for a week, if they budgeted right, and neither got sick. 

“Pac?” Mike whispered.

“Sim?”

“Precisamos sair agora,” (We need to leave now,)

“Por quê? Nós acabamos de chegar aqui, podíamos roubar comida,” (Why? We just got here, we could steal food,)

“Alguém ainda está aqui…” (Someone is still here…)

“Merda,” (Shit)

Mike began to slowly walk towards the door, Pac watched the back door carefully, praying internally that nobody would come, that they’d be safe, and have another successful robbery, but unfortunately fate wouldn’t be kind to either of the two boys. Mike stepped carefully, but unfortunately onto a floorboard that was creaky. A loud screech came from the floorboard. 

“QUEM ESTÁ AÍ?” a voice called from the back room. (WHO'S THERE?) 

Pac and Mike bolted, running out of the shop and down several alleys, hoping, praying that they weren’t being followed, but they were, a large man was following them, and keeping up, their panting grew louder as they ducked under, and hoped over multiple fences, but they could not lose the man, he was right on their tail. 

“Mikey, pegue o dinheiro e corra,” (Mikey, take the money and run,)

“Eu não vou te deixar para trás Pac, nós fizemos uma promessa,” (I won't leave you behind Pac, we made a promise,)

“Tudo bem... mas de que outra forma o perderíamos, ele já está nos perseguindo há algum tempo,” (Okay... but how else would we lose him, he's been chasing us for a while now,)

“Nós nos separamos, você corre para a esquerda, eu corro para a direita, mas não pare de correr, ele só poderá perseguir um de nós, então quem ele perseguir deve ir para a praia e nadar,” (We split up, you run left, I'll run right, but don't stop running, he'll only be able to chase one of us, so whoever he chases must go to the beach and swim,)

“Você não sabe nadar,” (You can't swim,)

“Então se for eu, você vai nadar atrás de mim e me salvar,” (So if it's me, you'll swim after me and save me,)

“E se ele souber nadar?” (What if he can swim?)

“Porra,” (Fuck)

“Eu concordo com a separação, mas...” (I agree with splitting up, but-)

A sharp hand landed on Pac’s shoulder, then on Mike’s shoulder, they’d been caught, they had actually been caught, that had never happened before. They turned around to face the man, who looked angry. He shifted his hands from their shoulders, down to their wrists, and dragged them along to the police station. 

The man spoke to the officer angrily, the officer looked at Mike with sympathy, but scowled at Pac. Mike was curled into Pac’s side, hugging him as he cried, it was all Pac’s fault, he shouldn’t have left the orphanage with Mike, he should’ve done this alone, he would’ve been caught a lot earlier, sure, but at least Mike would’ve been safe. 

Eventually the man left, the officer walked over to the two of them, and tried to separate Mike from Pac, but Mike refused to let go. Hands digging into Pac’s hoodie. 

“Solte,” the officer commanded. (Let go,)

“Não!”

“Quantos anos vocês dois têm?” he asked Pac. (How old are you two?)

“Eu tenho nove anos, ele tem sete,” (I'm nine, he's seven,)

“Vocês dois têm idade suficiente para serem condenados,” (You're both old enough to be convicted,)

“Nós sabemos,” Pac sighed. (We know,)

“E você sabe que cometeu um ato ilegal,” (And you know you committed an illegal act,)

“Você tenta viver nas ruas,” Mike spat. (You try to live on the streets,)

“Existem orfanatos,” (There are orphanages,)

“Eu tenho nove anos, você pode ser expulso aos dez,” (I’m nine, you can be kicked out at ten)

“Seu irmão não teria sido expulso,” (Your brother would not have been kicked out)

“Ele se recusou a me deixar,” (He refused to leave me,)

“Claro que sim,” the officer scoffed. (Of course)

“Eu não estou mentindo” (I'm not lying) 

“Veremos, mas por enquanto vocês dois ficarão presos,” (We'll see, but for now you two will be stuck,)

Prison wasn’t easy, especially when you knew you’d be released only to die, the death sentence wasn’t fun, others looked at Pac and Mike like they were murderers, they had only stolen, but because of the amount found by their sleeping bags, and the shop owners lies, they were sentenced to death. 

They shared a cell, they weren’t violent, they weren’t aggressive, they weren’t dangerous, and yet every single person thought they were, officers, wardens, and even other prisoners. Pac was scared, although he wouldn’t admit it, they weren’t given much food, what was the point if they were going to die anyway, so he gave Mike some of his, if there was a small, slither of a chance that Mike could survive, Pac would ensure that it would happen, even if that meant suffering himself. 

He slipped his bread onto Mike’s plate, without the younger noticing. Pac listened as Mike smiled and spoke about his day, always positive even in the darkest of situations. Pac’s head surged forwards as he was punched from behind, he didn’t react, he couldn’t, if he did he’d be taken away from Mike. He did however move his arm to block any attacks on Mike, his arm receiving the same treatment that his head got shortly after. Laughter could be heard from behind them, Mike looked at Pac sympathetically, but didn’t say anything, his earlier smile having disappeared. 

“Pacey…”

“Está tudo bem Mikey, está tudo bem, não é sua culpa,” (It's okay Mikey, it's okay, it's not your fault,)

“Mas você está ferido, de novo,” (But you're hurt, again,)

“Por que isso seria culpa sua?” (Why would that be your fault?)

“Porque eu nos peguei, com aquele assoalho rangendo,” (Because I got us caught, with that creaky floorboard,)

“Tudo bem-”

“Não está tudo bem, vamos morrer por causa do meu erro estúpido,” (It's not okay, we're going to die because of my stupid mistake,)

“Eu sei… mas pelo menos estamos morrendo juntos, certo?” (I know… but at least we're dying together, right?)

“Sim…”

Pac searched the castle, he was playing hide and seek with his little siblings, he was only eleven, but he’d settled into the life of princehood, and being the crown prince. The King was visiting a foreign kingdom, so the children could behave like children without fear of reprimand. 

Pac walked into the library, Cellbit’s favourite place to hide, he normally hid somewhere in the room, whether that was beside the bookshelves or under the sofas, or behind the doors, he was always in the library. 

“Cellbit, eu sei que você está aqui,” Pac laughed. (Cellbit, I know you're here,)

Pac walked around the library, searching under every crevice, above every bookshelf, in every nook and cranny, everywhere, but he couldn’t spot Cellbit. Yet he could hear rushed breathing, so he just had to look a little bit harder. The breathing got louder as he climbed the ladder to the second floor of the library, but it appeared to be coming from behind the bookshelf, which was impossible, so Pac turned around and climbed back down. 

He continued to search the room, the breathing having calmed down now, no longer a distraction or a red herring for him. Except he really couldn’t find Cellbit, he’d found Mike already but given him another chance to hide, and he’d found Bagi, but she had to leave for tutoring, so the only person he hadn’t found was Cellbit. 

He climbed back up the ladder, foot after foot, knuckles turning white with pressure.

“Cellbit?” he called.

His gaze swam over the bookshelves, right, to left, to right again. That book. Yes, that book. It was the only book in the entire library where the author’s surname wasn’t in order. Pac stepped closer towards it. He ran his fingers down the spine, it felt like plastic, or some other polymer, not leather, like the other books. He wrapped his hand around it and yanked, it refused to budge, instead it appeared to be attached to the bookshelf, at the bottom. Pac angled the book backwards, and suddenly let go as the entire bookshelf moved, revealing a dark, musky room behind it, inside sat a little ten-year old Cellbit.

“Não é justo!” Cellbit complained, “Como você sempre me encontra tão rápido?” (It’s not fair! How do you always find me so quickly?)

“Porque eu te conheço,” Pac smiled, sitting down next to Cellbit. (Because I know you,) 

“Como? Você nem mora aqui há tanto tempo,” (How? You haven’t even lived here that long,)

“Estou aqui há um ano,” (I've been here for a year,)

“Ainda assim, Bagi demorou mais para aprender meus padrões, e Mike ainda não,” (Still, Bagi took longer to learn my patterns, and Mike still hasn't,)

“Bagi cresceu brincando de esconde-esconde com você, ela precisava se desenvolver e Mike é mais novo que nós,” (Bagi grew up playing hide and seek with you, she needed to develop and Mike is younger than us,)

“Ele é apenas um ano mais novo que eu,” (He's just a year younger than me,)

“Eu sei, assim como você é um ano mais novo que eu,” (I know, just like you are a year younger than me,)

“Eu te amo Pacey,” (I love you Pacey)