Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Sapnap left the Grand Courthouse with Dream by his side, it had been with a sense of unparalleled jubilation.  Yes, it had been difficult to listen to the bounty of charges placed against Schlatt, especially when Sapnap personally knew the victims involved.  Crimes against one bearer would have been enough to doom the older protector for life, but Schlatt had abused two, had enslaved one –  and whatever scraps of honor the few would-be allies Schlatt had left attempted to throw together crumbled before they could even hope to take shape into something substantial.  Schlatt had gotten his public hearing, his public condemnation, had his list of crimes read to the upper elite of the empire, the bailiffs' voice magically amplified to carry through the public waiting areas outside the grand arena reserved for the most high-profile crimes. 

One thing was for certain – Schlatt's name would certainly never be forgotten in the history of the empire.  He would forever be known as a scourge to their people, a blight that had been overcome by the mighty Alexis Quackity-Blade. 

Yep, that was Sapnap's mom, alright.  He had really lucked out. 

They were all riding the high of Schlatt being formally locked away for good when they returned to the castle, a feeling that immediately vanished upon finding that their home had become a den of panic and chaos, guards and servants running every which way. 

Sapnap shared one look with Dream and took off running, the two of them splitting up.  Sapnap wouldn't distract any of the on-duty knights from whatever emergency had sprouted up while they were gone no matter how panicked he felt, but as Commander of the Knight Legions Dream would be needed, and if it was a problem that truly required all their combined efforts, Sapnap trusted that Dream would pull them in as necessary.  Until then, Sapnap needed to check on his brothers, look after his pack. 

When he sprinted up to the royal floor and found even more guards, his stomach sank to his feet, all the blood seeming to drain from his face as a cool press of anxiety built along his spine. 

He had a second to take in the sight before Niki was upon him, her expression grim and grip firm when she curled a hand around his elbow. "Lockdown protocol has been initiated," she informed him tersely. "We need your help guarding the younger pups." 

It was generous phrasing, Sapnap knew.  Niki was framing it as a duty to be upheld rather than a necessity.  Sapnap was a royal pup now too – if lockdown had been initiated, then he'd need to be kept secure just as much as the others.  He didn't have a choice in the matter, but his protective instincts took comfort in the prospect of guarding his younger brothers, for all that he was still frazzled. 

"Okay," Sapnap said, following her. "Could you tell me what's going on?"

"I will, but you need to close your eyes," Niki said as they approached a curve in the hall. "I can explain everything when we get to the bearer's suite." 

So the problem wasn't there.  That was a comfort. 

"Did something happen in the hall?" Sapnap asked, confused by the strange direction. "Why would I need to-"

They turned the corner, and though Niki was positioning herself to block the worst of it, there was no denying the group of knights, investigators, and servants gathered around the door to the Royal Medical Suite. 

To where George and Jack were.

"Sapnap," Niki hissed, her merling gills flaring as she shoved herself in front of him. "You have to go on lockdown.  If you interfere now, you will only slow things down."

"Tell me what happened," Sapnap said, analyzing the hallway on reflex, brain coming to a stuttered halt as he recognized new dark brown stains on the floor.  Blood, and a lot of it. "Who died?"

"A nurse," Niki said, kind enough not to leave him hanging. "We suspect she was taken hostage to gain the infiltrators access, but we need your help distracting the younger pups before they try to go exploring and get traumatized."

It was an understandable concern.  Schlatt seemed to have accepted Ranboo and Fundy solely for their capabilities for infiltration.  Between Fundy's fox form being able to squeeze through gaps none of them could anticipate and Ranboo's teleportation skills, it would be a sizable task in itself to distract them away from something once they set their minds to it. 

It was fair, Sapnap knew that, but-

"What about George?" Sapnap pressed. "Josh? Jack?"

"George is fine," Niki soothed. "Josh is too.  Bad and Skeppy transferred them to the bearers' suite.  They're holding up with the pups."

"What about Jack?" Sapnap asked, unable to miss the way the small blaze had been obviously passed over. "Niki-"

"Sapnap," Niki interrupted, her hands digging into his shoulders as she attempted to stabilize him. "You have to go into lockdown.  You have to trust that the rest of us are handling this."

"So he's not dead," Sapnap breathed, because if Jack was, she wouldn't draw it out like this.  Niki wasn't that cruel; she wouldn't allow the seeds for false hope.  There was something left to be done, which meant that Jack was either hurt or kidnapped, and if Bad was in lockdown, Jack must have- 

He'd been taken.  Someone had struck while the majority of the pack was at the Grand Courthouse.  They'd used a nurse to gain access, and now Jack was missing. 

"We don't know anything for sure," Niki said, expression apologetic because she wasn't going to lie to him, no matter how much kinder it might have been. "But the people who need to be working on it are doing so.  Lord Technoblade is already on their scent, the Wastakens have already dispatched their best teams to back him up." She shifted slightly, just enough to ensure he was matching her gaze, something she'd done for him countless times before they went out for training exercises or promotion tests.  She'd done it for him before he'd gone to war, when he'd surrendered his post to her. "This is an act of desperation, your highness.  They couldn't get to Quackity so they struck at the royal flock's other bearer.  They're grasping at straws, backing themselves into a corner, and we will find them." She squeezed his shoulders again, fingers digging into his skin, but it was grounding, something that kept him in the moment rather than spiraling into the mess of worst-case scenarios. "They're not going to risk hurting the only thing that will keep them alive.  They have to know they were pushing their luck taking him as it was.  They saw what happened to Schlatt, they know their comrades wouldn't have given away the secret to Wilbur's antidote easily.  They know they have crossed a line, and if they want to hope for any kind of mercy, Jack will be returned unharmed."

She laid it out logically, but there was always a chance for things to go wrong.  They both knew that.  Always a chance for lunatics to commit to their insanity for no other reason than wanting to see the royal flock hurt. 

They'd stolen Jack.  Jack, who'd never hurt anyone.  Who'd already been hurt so much. 

"We've got this," Niki said, gaze burning with a low fury that made Sapnap feel grounded.  Their allies, those that had pledged their allegiance – they would fight just as hard as Sapnap would.  They'd fight for Jack, their sweet bearer. "Do you trust us?"

"I do," Sapnap said, breathless and reeling but holding onto that thread of determination with both hands.

"Then let us handle it," Niki said, the corner of her lips pulling up in a smirk that was more of a show of teeth than anything else.

He forgot how vicious she could be when the mood called for it, but the shudder that fell over him was more from approval than anything else. 

"Okay," Sapnap said, forcing himself to redirect, to allow Niki to move him on.  He gained his own guard contingent as he was guided to the bearers' suite, though they left him alone once he entered it, moving forward to meet his younger brothers.   

It wasn't what he wanted to do, but it was where he knew he needed to be.  Being in lockdown would allow his parents to focus the way they needed to, and he could help Bad and Skeppy and Josh distract the younger pups, even if they were half frantic themselves from the palpable tension that had fallen over the castle. 

It didn't help that Tubbo was crying into Bad's shoulder, Sapnap's older brother rocking the small blaze hybrid back and forth as he hugged onto Henry, who Tommy must have generously shared with him. 

"Where's mum?" Tubbo croaked over Bad's soft humming. "Why isn't he here?"

"We're looking for him, baby, I promise," Bad said, shooting Sapnap a sorrowful look as he continued rocking Tubbo back and forth. "They're working as fast as they can."

"But why would they take him?" Tommy asked, stomping his foot unhappily from where he seemed to be pacing back and forth in an instinctive patrol of his territory.  He circled around Skeppy who had Fundy pinned to the couch in a blanket nest, the small fox hybrid in his shifted form and seeming perturbed with the world at large.  Sapnap didn't see Ranboo and Josh, but he assumed they were together with George in Wilbur's bedroom, the more sensitive of the pups carefully separated from the others, likely so he wouldn't exacerbate Tubbo's tears. "It doesn't make any sense!" 

"Sometimes people do things that don't make sense to anyone but themselves," Sapnap said, deciding to take this one for his older brothers.  Their carriage had gotten back before his own, so they must have gotten briefed first too.  Dream had wanted to take the scenic route to get Jack some special tarts from the first bakery they'd ever visited together.  They'd sent the boxes off with a servant before they'd realized everything had gone wrong. "And they don't care who they hurt because to them, it's the only path they can take."

"That's dumb," Tommy sniffed, his eyes glistening with the effort of his restrained tears. 

"It is," Sapnap agreed as he lowered himself to the floor, curling up so he could be on Tommy's level. "And I'm sorry you have to go through this.  That all of us are going through it, but don't forget who we are." Sapnap opened his arms, and the way Tommy scrambled towards him was satisfying to watch, the small avian slumping into his chest with a happy coo.  Sapnap swallowed hard and let his hand settle between Tommy's shoulder blades, right where his wings extended.  Did it and remembered the privilege it was to be allowed that trust. "We're the royal family of the Antarctic Empire," Sapnap reminded him. "For every bad apple, there are hundreds of soldiers dedicated to protecting us.  Hundreds that are out there looking for Jack right now, who won't rest until he's back because they're loyal to us, just as we're loyal to them." 

Tommy sniffed, the first of his tears finally spilling down his cheeks, and Sapnap's hand was careful when he brushed them away. "They're really all looking?" Tommy asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"They are," Sapnap pledged, holding his little brother close. "They're looking, and they won't stop until they find him." 

"Okay." Tommy slumped against him, the fight draining from him entirely. "I can um- still cry, right?"

"Of course," Sapnap said, rubbing his back comfortingly. "You do that whenever you need to.  We're here for you." 

"I'm here for you too," Tommy sniffed, and it was a gift Sapnap wouldn't forget, wouldn't take for granted, because the intruder could have just as easily gone after the younger pups as they did Jack, might have if the news of Jack's second sex hadn't gotten out. 

They were so young, so vulnerable, but Sapnap? 

He'd protect them with everything he had.

~:~

They spent a terrible, tense evening like that.  An evening trying to pass the time, an evening of soothing and attempted distractions that never panned out.  None of them could relax, and while Ranboo was cooperative, diligently taking to his duty of guarding George with the utmost seriousness, Fundy was less so.  They ended up mitigating at least two escape attempts before the pups finally passed out in the very early hours of the morning, not sleeping so much as finally succumbing to their exhaustion.  

Skeppy managed to prod Bad into bed with them – the prince having stayed up late the night before doing potion research for George as a way to minimize the nerves related to his first major appearance as crown prince.  It was only when they were extra certain that they were all resting (mostly Fundy), that the security measures were in place and any potential escape routes for small, clever foxes were barricaded off that the rest of them retired to the main sitting room, waiting for any sort of news.  Skeppy and Sapnap cradled Josh between them, who without the pups to put up a strong front for fell to pieces, murmuring apologies between his sobs as the guilt of sleeping through his brother's abduction weighed on him.

"It wasn't you," Skeppy said, his voice sure, soothing. "You didn't hurt him; you didn't choose violence.  That was them, and this isn't your fault." 

"Good, good brother," Sapnap rumbled in Blaze. "Good brother, good packmate. No fault in you." 

There was no telling if Josh believed them or if he simply ran out of energy to object, but either way it was something worth keeping an eye on.  He cried himself out in the early hours of the morning, so only Sapnap and Skeppy were awake when Philza finally edged into the room, drifting soundlessly through the shadows. 

Sapnap could tell he had just come back from patrol. His light flying armor was gone, stripping him down to his regular uniform.  He would have looked ready for a casual night in were it not for the soot and dust that spattered his skin, his blond hair twisted back in a messy bun. 

"Hey, dear ones," Phil murmured, smile fond when it drifted over sleeping Josh, his form slumped into Skeppy's side.  It didn't take long for his gaze to find Sapnap. "We need your help, mate." 

Sapnap saw Skeppy tense in his peripherals. "Did you find him?"

"Not yet," Phil said, like it was a certainty, and that helped even if the news wasn't what they wanted it to be. "We tracked down the base we believe they initially took him to, but it's- it's complicated."

"Complicated how?" Sapnap asked, his voice a tense whisper. 

There were different levels of complicated, and Philza's poker face wasn't exactly giving anything away. 

"They used teleportation scrolls, we're pretty sure," Philza said, making Sapnap swallow a string of curses.  Teleportation scrolls were high-level, black-market magic – things designed by criminals for criminals for a seamless escape.  They must have used the last of the assets they had to get a hold of those. 

"Can you trace them?" Skeppy asked, a bit more pointed. "Could Foolish track them down?"

"He might have been able to," Philza said, the words making Sapnap's stomach harden like stone – a heavy, unrelenting weight pressing against his core. "But something- something happened on the other end.  We don't know for sure, but we think the scroll intended to bring Jack back was activated and brought it over somehow."

"Brought what over?" Skeppy pressed, seeming to get that Sapnap couldn't.

Philza took in a slow, deep breath, looking as exhausted as Sapnap had ever seen him.  His father, the emperor, the knelt before them – smudged with dirt and grime, his expression reluctantly grim with apology. "There was an explosion," he said, making them freeze. "At the secondary location.  One big enough to activate the return scroll and transport the backlash to their base.  Most of them were dead by the time we got there, and the ones that weren't followed shortly after." 

"So," Sapnap began, his heart thudding in his ears. "We don't know where Jack is." 

"We don't know where he was taken to," Phil said. "We're also uncertain if he's alive."

There was a heavy moment of silence.

And then Sapnap was pulling away from the couch, from Josh and Skeppy and Phil, because that couldn't be, that couldn't-

"No," he said in a harsh whisper, pushing himself away from the couch so he wouldn't wake Josh, wouldn't burn him with his flames. "No, Jack's a blaze hybrid, he'd be fine." 

"He would be if his flame was ignited," Philza agreed, rising in one swift motion and following him in graceful movements. "But his wasn't, and without it- even with it, it would have been difficult to control an explosion of that size." Phil's expression was rife with apology. "Not every blaze is as powerful as you, Sapnap." 

"No." A certain heat stung in Sapnap's eyes, the thing he'd been pushing off for so long. "No, no, he's fine, he has to be fine."

"Sapnap," Phil's voice was sharp without being an attack – firm enough to drag Sapnap away from his impending breakdown.  Much like Niki had earlier, Phil grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him close enough to knock their foreheads together in a blaze greeting. "I know this is a very terrible thing.  I know this is hard and you deserve time to process, you do, you deserve time to rest, but we really need your help right now."

"How?" Sapnap asked, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. "W-What can I do to fix it?  How can I make it better?" 

"That, you can't," Phil said – straightforward the way a general was with his army. "But you can help Dream." 

Sapnap froze, gaze going wide. "What's wrong?"

Had Dream gotten hurt too?  But he- he'd gotten through the war fine, and to get injured in this was- 

Phil's jaw set in a look of reluctant exhaustion, apology radiating from him at every turn. "It might be better to see for yourself." 

He didn't leave Sapnap completely in the dark, though.  Phil was kind enough to give him a briefing of the situation as they made their way to the Wastaken Estate as fast as Phil's wings could carry them.  It should have been exhilarating – Sapnap’s first time flying like this and sure, he'd hovered before, knew how to slow his descent as a blaze hybrid, but he'd never soared.  This should be an amazing experience, a treasured memory, but Sapnap could only try and steady his pulse as he tried to wrap his head around what Phil had explained. 

He didn't feel quite ready by the time they landed at the Wastaken's front door, but Duchess Wastaken was already waiting for them, her expression grim.  

"Lord Foolish teleported them here when things took a turn for the worse," the duchess explained as she led them deeper into the mansion. "We have a space dedicated to this – my husband has Dream there now.  As of yet, he hasn't gotten through to him, but we're hoping you might be able to."

"Is he really feral?" Sapnap asked, somehow managing to keep his voice steady, even though it felt impossible to comprehend.  Dream was too strong to go feral, too present and controlled.  He was a champion of staying in the moment, he prided himself on that, and he- he was a soldier.  He was familiar with loss, not that Jack was lost, he wasn't- he had to be fine, and Sapnap needed Dream here with him to prove it. 

The duchess shot him a sympathetic look, somehow managing to offer comfort when it was her son that was at risk of losing himself completely. "It is unquestionable."

"He lost it at the base," Philza murmured from Sapnap's other side. "When Foolish couldn't track where the explosion came from, he just-" He sighed. "Techno had to pin him, couldn't even knock him out, and Foolish got them here."

"Is he-" Sapnap's voice wavered. "Magic exhaustion-"

"We always have potions on hand," the duchess said. "His majesty is resting now." 

"It wasn't as far a distance as it was during the war, but it still wasn't great," Phil murmured. "That's a bridge we'll have to cross later, but for now-"

"Yeah," Sapnap said, scrubbing at his cheeks. "Yeah, let's focus on Dream."

Dream, who was feral, who Sapnap had to pull back from the edge of his instincts. 

No pressure.

The duchess brought them into a passage that had been previously hidden, something that led under their house, a secret recess.  They eventually came upon a well-lit hall that sported a reinforced steel door covered in runes.  Drista was curled up on the floor next to it, a servant keeping her company while she hid her face in the shelter of her knees.  She looked up when they approached, her own eyes red and irritated from tears she must have run out of, the tracks on her face now dry, cheeks blotchy beneath her purple scales.

"Dad says it's too dangerous for me to stay," Drista murmured, scrubbing at her cheeks. "They're fighting right now.  Dream seems to know who he is, but that's not- it's not stopping him.  He wants to get out." 

"He was trying to get away before," Phil informed Sapnap. "Didn't really seem to want to fight Techno, but he did when he got in the way." 

"His instincts want to engage in their own search," the duchess said. "But we'd have no way of keeping up with him." 

"I'm not as spry as I used to be," Phil sighed, stretching out his wings.

"The duke isn't either," the duchess said. "And Drista has the energy, but not the wingspan.  There are others closer to his age- nieces and nephews, but Dream secured his spot as heir for a reason, by being the strongest.  I fear they wouldn’t be able to keep up with him, even if their wingspan may be similar."

Wingspan?  Sapnap wanted to follow up more on that last comment but the duchess was already herding him towards the door, her hand settling on a security rune that immediately began to glow, affecting the rest of the barrier. 

"Do not worry," the duchess soothed, as though sensing Sapnap's growing anxiety. "He cannot get out unless one of us keys it into the runes.  Even if the door was open, he wouldn't be able to escape."

"We keep it shut mostly to keep in the sound," Drista sniffed, accepting a handkerchief from the servant beside her. 

That was something else Sapnap wanted to ask about, would have asked about, but then the duchess was pulling the door open and in the next moment, he got his answer.

A roar – fierce and terrifying – echoed through the space in a ruthless sort of thunder, something that was immediately countered by something deeper, more guttural than loud, not that the first hybrid was impressed by this.  The scene was exactly as Drista had depicted it, with Dream squaring off against his father, but-

Sapnap finally understood the wing thing. 

Dream- he had wings.  More than that, he had a tail, all of which must somehow be kept locked away by magic but it was out now, his wings flared wide in a show of angry dominance as he roared at his father, his eyes glaring a fierce and terrifying green.  The areas around his eyes that were normally white were completely swallowed by darkness, making him appear truly animalistic, and in one moment, Sapnap finally understood Dream's hybrid type, and why it was kept such a firm secret. 

An ender dragon.  The Wastakens were ender dragon hybrids. 

Dream was a dragon and he was furious to have the search for his mate halted, to the point where not even his own father – the head of his pack – could deter him. 

Sapnap would be lying to say that wasn't the least bit intimidating. 

“Do not worry,” the duchess said, her gaze on Dream, who hadn’t seemed to notice their presence yet. “As furious as he sounds, he hasn’t attempted to cause any lasting damage.  Any contact that’s been initiated is rough scuffles at best, things he breaks off before blood can be drawn.” She turned to address Sapnap properly, somehow so composed and resolute in the wake of her son – her oldest pup – being so thoroughly lost to his instincts.  If Sapnap was facing off against Bad, he didn’t think he’d be able to do it.  He didn’t know if he could do it for any of them. “He will not hurt you,” the duchess said, sounding so very certain. “He doesn’t want to hurt any of us, he just wants to search for Jack on his own.”

But they couldn’t let him do that.  Because with his wings there’d be no way to keep up with him, no way to keep watch over the very rare and powerful hybrid who wasn’t in complete control of his faculties.

Sapnap swallowed hard. “Do you really think I can bring him back?”

“I can’t say for certain,” the duchess murmured, the first threads of exhaustion showing on her features. “The few times Dream has come to similar states, Drista has been able to pull him out of it.  The need to protect his youngest and most vulnerable packmate can usually overwhelm everything else.  This time, though, he seems stuck.  Like there is something greater driving him.  It’s beyond missing a mate.” Her gaze drifted back over to Dream. “I don’t know what it is.”

“I don’t know if I can outweigh a mate,” Sapnap admitted.

The duchess offered him a small smile, something etched with a fondness he hadn’t expected.  They hadn’t really spoken properly since he’d gotten back despite the fact that he was engaged to her son.  Bad and Skeppy were still deep in wedding negotiations, and that was before Philza and Quackity got into things.  All of it put a hold on Sapnap’s visit. 

It was strange seeing her now, worse that it was under these conditions.

“My son would not propose lightly, no matter the circumstances,” the duchess said, her voice soft. “It may not be official, but you are as good as his mate.” She nodded towards where Dream was having a minor tussle with his father, something that ended with him getting pushed back a few stumbling steps.  He recovered with a flare of his wings, frustrated, and let out another fierce roar. “He would have the same fight for you,” she said. “For George.  These things I don’t doubt.”

“But-” Sapnap felt his face flood with heat.  Dream and George had been together forever.  He and Jack might not have been mates for long, but Dream had made a stubborn bid to be his friend and packmate for months before Sapnap was even in the picture.

What did Sapnap and Dream have, really, but a wartime romance?  Something that felt right in the moment – would it even last in their normal life?

It had to now – Dream had no choice in the matter, but Sapnap-

He could admit that he was worried about it.

“I do not doubt them,” the duchess repeated. “Because if he really hadn’t liked you all those years, he wouldn’t have talked about you so much. Wouldn’t have competed with you.  He wouldn’t have acknowledged you whatsoever, because apathy is far more devastating than competition, but you were always in his thoughts.” Her smile widened. “While I was somewhat surprised by the engagement, I’ll admit that it wasn’t startling at all to have you come back as alpha and second.” She leaned forward, just enough to bump their foreheads together in a piglin show of affection. “It was kind of you to let him be the alpha.  He would have let you lead should you have needed it.”

The heat in Sapnap’s face somehow managed to amplify. “I like being pampered,” he mumbled, staring at his feet awkwardly.

“And he likes to pamper,” the duchess mused, sounding fond. “I know this is a difficult time right now, but I believe you can bring him back.  You can remind him of what else he still needs to defend, but Sapnap-” Her hand found his shoulder, a comforting weight. “If you don’t, it would not be a failure.  He hasn’t listened to any of us, hasn’t acknowledged his friends and allies.  Whatever he’s going through right now, it is perhaps greater than we could ever hope to understand, but no matter what happens, the fact that you tried is a victory enough for us.  I just want you to know that.”

She was bracing him, hoping for the best while planning for the worst, and while Sapnap theoretically understood what she meant, he couldn’t help but feel the guilt and terror already build in his stomach.  He couldn’t compete with a bearer, he knew that, but he just- he wanted Dream back.  It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

Sapnap swallowed hard, mustering a small smile. “Thanks,” he managed, and then he turned to face the room properly, taking a thorough look at it for the first time since he’d arrived. 

It was a large, circular space with enchantments etched into the walls, some glowing to indicate that they were active.  It reminded Sapnap a bit of an arena, and perhaps that was the base intent.  There were different sections that branched off the initial arena space – a minimalistic resting area with what seemed to be a nest and a small, flowing pool for cleaning.  Climbing up along the walls, spiraling upwards like a staircase seemed to be a sort of obstacle course, perhaps to test their flying skills or parkour.  It was – what had Bad called it?  Enrichment.  Enrichment for their hybrid states.  Things to keep them entertained and stimulated while they weren’t entirely in control without being potentially harmful.

This was- it was really happening.  This was happening.

Sapnap moved forward cautiously, approaching the conflicting duo in a wide circle so that they could see him coming from a distance.  Dream’s focus was entirely on his father, growling out something low and fast in his hybrid language that was likely an attempt to plead his case while his father echoed something back that even to Sapnap’s untrained ears seemed like a slow but steady no.

Dream hissed in response, his wings flaring wide and high, and there was a chance that the smallest of sounds slipped from Sapnap.

Just- regardless of what the duchess had said it was an intimidating sight, one that left Sapnap frozen in panic for all of a moment before Dream’s fierce gaze found his, pinning Sapnap in place with its unrelenting intensity.  He couldn’t move, could barely breathe as he waited to see if Dream would recognize him.  He tried to hold onto the duchess’s words, how it wouldn’t be a failure if Dream didn’t, but it felt like it would be, just the possibility of it-

Dream froze, his wings flicking in interest, and then he was diving forward, sliding in front of Sapnap with a seamless grace Sapnap hadn’t been able to track with his eyes.  They were face to face like that for a second and then Dream was darting in, gathering Sapnap in his arms and hugging him close with a deep rumble.  A moment later found Sapnap pulled off his feet, safely clutched in Dream’s arms, the dragon hybrid pushing back a small distance to buy some space from his father while he cradled Sapnap close.

Okay, this was okay.  At least he recognized Sapnap.

"Hi, Dream," Sapnap said, voice shaky as Dream clutched him close.  His alpha released a deep rumble of contentment, some of the tension in his shoulders seeming to ease as he took in Sapnap's scent.  This was- even with the wings and the tail and the intense gaze, this was still his Dream.  The comfort of his hold was familiar, and the strange coolness he always seemed to radiate made substantially more sense now.  Of course he was naturally cold – hybrids with End origins were literally built for such things. 

With a hard swallow, Sapnap raised a tentative hand and stroked it through Dream's golden locks, which were just as soft and inviting as always.  A pause, and then Dream hummed, his mouth brushing against the curve of Sapnap's neck, just against his scent gland.  It reminded Sapnap of the puppy dog like behavior Dream adopted sometimes when he wanted affection, habits he'd likely developed with George who was much more reticent about giving it, whereas Sapnap – post clarifying the giant miscommunication that had put them at odds for so long – wasn't.  He was always down for cuddles, and to know that Dream needed that even now when he'd been so angry and combative moments before helped Sapnap relax.

Even through all this chaos, his Dream was still in there.  They could get him back. 

"Yeah," Sapnap said, leaning into Dream's contact, earning a small, pleased sound from his alpha. "I missed you too." 

This earned him another rumble, deep and long, and Dream peppered Sapnap’s neck with a few kisses before he finally pulled away, the hand he didn't have stabilizing Sapnap against him trailing over the blaze hybrid.  It took Sapnap a moment to realize Dream was searching for wounds, checking to see if he was okay so Sapnap held still, letting him complete his evaluation. 

If this was what he needed to do, Sapnap wasn't going to stop him.

It was only when he was content that Sapnap was entirely uninjured that Dream held him close again, his mouth settling against his scent gland once more.  Dream's lips parted, allowing for a deliberate swirl of tongue that had Sapnap's pulse jumping, because they'd- they'd done a lot, but they'd never gotten close to addressing those sacred areas.  Even with the engagement, it felt far too serious for them to even contemplate.

Now Dream's mouth was on it, lapping eagerly at Sapnap's scent, his efforts resulting in the occasional brush of canines that would lead to a much more permanent bond for those that still considered such things-

"Dream," a firm voice growled from beside them, and Dream jerked back with a startled expression that lasted for all of a second until it shifted into a furious show of teeth, his father closer than he'd been before, wings flared and just as intimidating as they’d been at a distance. "This is not the time.  If you want to bond with him, you have to talk to him first.  That is not negotiable." 

Oh, he actually wanted to- had he intended-?

The thought of it left Sapnap breathless, his head a little fuzzy with the implications of it all. He'd just thought Dream had been sharing affection, he hadn't realized that his alpha had every intention of biting him properly.  

Well, that was one way to confirm the longevity of Dream's affection towards him.  No more doubts for Sapnap. 

Dream growled at his father, something that was overwhelmed with an unimpressed snarl from the duke, and if Sapnap had to describe Dream's expression, he would say it was somewhat bashful, the blond’s head ducked and bottom lip sticking out in a pout as he held Sapnap possessively closer. 

Oh, this alpha.  His alpha, he really was just- even now, with the threat against Jack, he had this much love for Sapnap. 

It meant a lot. 

"I know, I know," Sapnap soothed, continuing to card his fingers through Dream's hair, dragging them against the blond's scalp in an effort to calm him. "I um- I'd like to do that too, but only after we talk about it." 

Dream released a sad, frustrated sound, butting his forehead against Sapnap's shoulder before he shifted his attention upwards, mouthing at the sensitive spot under his ear for a few teasing seconds before peppering the curve of his jaw with kisses, steadily making his way towards Sapnap's mouth. 

The first kiss was grounding, intensified by the steady rumble Dream echoed into it, and when the alpha pulled away, Sapnap felt breathless all over again. 

"D-Dream," Sapnap gasped between kisses when he remembered they had an audience, one of which was very close and also Dream's father. "Dream- I um- I need you to come back to me." 

Dream paused – and it was clear he understood for all that he wasn't engaging.  His eyes were still dark when he pulled back, bottom lip clamped between his teeth as he let out a small whine, shaking his head steadily. 

Sapnap's stomach dropped. "You can't?" he asked, hoping he was wrong. 

The worst was confirmed when Dream nodded. 

No, Sapnap couldn't- they couldn't lose Jack and Dream at once.  That wasn't- it wasn't fair, Sapnap needed- he had to try harder. 

"I know you want to search," Sapnap managed, his lips feeling clumsy as he pushed forward. "But if you- if you come back, we can help you.  We're stronger together, Dream, you know we're-"

Dream let out a frustrated growl, tossing his head in an abrupt shake before he was marching forward, past his father with a flare of his wings.  He moved towards the open door with purpose, glaring at the glimmering barrier that blocked him off from the rest of the world, his family watching from the other side.  The blond shifted his weight from foot-to-foot restlessly and then he turned to look towards Sapnap, gently nuzzling against the blaze hybrid’s shoulder with a small sound.  And then he just- looked.  Waited. 

From the other side of the barrier, the duchess sighed. "He cannot let you through, dear one.  You're a danger to yourself like this." 

Dream growled at her, unimpressed, but when his gaze shifted back towards Sapnap it was hopeful, the corners of his lips pulling up in the smallest grin because he- he was so certain.  He had so much faith in Sapnap, in his second, so much faith that Sapnap wouldn't abandon him the way Dream thought the rest of his family had. 

Sapnap felt as though he were sitting at the crossroads of their relationship, and it almost seemed like a certainty for things to implode.  He just- he wanted to hold onto what they had for a few seconds more.  

He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Dream.  I can't let you out, but-"

A growl, and Sapnap found himself dropped unceremoniously onto his feet, Dream pulling back with a pointed roar, his expression painted in betrayal. 

"Dream," Sapnap began, heat building in his eyes as he reached towards his alpha. "I'll still stay with you.  I'm still yours-"

There was a blur of moment, another fierce growl, and Dream was darting forwards, hands moving out to-

He shoved Sapnap- shoved him hard, forcefully enough to send Sapnap sprawling back through the glowing barrier.  He would have fallen entirely had Phil not caught him, and he was so surprised by the sudden turn of events that it took him a few moments to process them.  By the time he did Dream was back in the center of the arena facing off against his father, seeming intent to release his anger on the other dragon hybrid who could bear it better. 

He'd pushed Sapnap away. 

He didn't want Sapnap there.

"Dream." Sapnap forced his legs under him, tried to take a step forward and found himself held back by Philza, Duchess Wastaken smoothly shifting so that she blocked sight of the room from him. 

"That's enough, dear one," Philza murmured, grip firm against Sapnap's struggles. "He won't listen to you now."

"I have to try," Sapnap said, claimed with desperation. "Just- give me more time-"

"You did try," the duchess interrupted, her voice patient. "You tried, and we are all very grateful for your efforts."

"Don't-" Sapnap cut off with a gasp, his breaths coming heavier now. "Don't- don't cut me out of this, please." 

"Your alpha has disregarded you," the duchess said, delivering the facts that Sapnap had tried to ignore as carefully as she could. "To approach him now would only bring you more harm.  It wouldn't help either of you." She offered him a small bow. "Thank you for your efforts.  We are truly grateful."

"Please," Sapnap begged, looking up at Phil. "Don't- you guys did this to Jack, remember?  Don't do it to me too." 

Phil paused, then shared a look with the duchess, the two of them sharing a silent conversation.

It was Drista, though, who eventually broke the silence. "Let him stay with me," she said, patting the space beside her. "It might not be good for either of us to go in there, but at least let him stay close." 

"R-Right." Sapnap would take whatever crumbs he could get, anything to feel like he was supporting his alpha. 

Neither Philza nor the duchess seemed entirely pleased with this, but they both relented. 

"You can stay," the duchess said. "But I'm keying the barrier to keep you out.  Do not attempt to talk to Dream anymore tonight." A beat, and then- "He may listen to you tomorrow." 

"And I'm going to get Ponk's opinion on this," Phil said. "We'll defer to the experts this time, but no matter what happens, Sapnap, we just want what's best for you." 

"I know," Sapnap said, voice thick as he settled down beside Drista. "I know." 

They spent the night there curled against that wall, the door shut once more to block out the sound.  Eventually the duke had to trade out with Dream's mother, though he went right to work coordinating with his tracker teams.  Occasionally, he'd send down servants with food or news for Sapnap and Drista who didn't bother trying to make them relocate to proper rooms for sleep.  They merely brought down a bounty of pillows and bedrolls – some of which Sapnap recognized as Jack's favorites.  It would have been enough to leave him tossing and turning had exhaustion not finally won out, and he spent the night curling close to Drista, both of them aching with Dream's absence. 

The morning brought no good news.  Phil had organized his crows to engage in proper patrols throughout the entirety of the empire, then moving to the outer areas, their allies already initiating searches of their own.  Techno was attempting to track any large purchases of explosive goods – specifically utilizing the connections he'd built up in the Nether, those that had an eye on black market channels. Eret was working on investigating the kidnappers themselves in a bid to determine what remaining allies and resources they may have, anything to give them a clue as to the secondary base's whereabouts.  He and Sam left for L'Manburg that morning to follow up their investigation, but Foolish had teleported the first consort over to say a proper goodbye to Sapnap, neither one of them asking him to leave his vigil by Dream's door. 

"I'm exploring my magic mojo as best I can," Foolish offered, managing a tight smile. "I'm reassigning all my build projects so I can focus on that instead, see if I can make any headway." It was easy to forget, considering how spectacular his talents were, that Foolish was entirely new to the realm of magic.  He'd just awakened those abilities in himself recently, and yet they demanded so much from him.  He didn't complain, though, if anything, he seemed apologetic that he could not pull off quite as many miracles as they needed, as though he had not already done so much. "And Quackity's organizing the ducks!" Foolish continued cheerfully. "It's like Phil and his crows.  Quackity didn't even know he had the same ability – guess it's just an avian thing." 

"Our flock is very impressive," Eret agreed in a low hum, and it felt like an understatement. 

They were all pulling together, all moving mountains to find Jack, pushing the limits of their abilities, and Sapnap- he couldn't even get Dream to snap out of his instincts. 

But he couldn't focus on that now, not when Eret was leaving for who knew how long.  And they might not be as close as the others, but Eret was still George's father.  He'd seen the value and brilliance in George and refused to let him suffer, had held the panther hybrid close and allowed his intellect and capabilities to shine the way they should.  He was a great peacekeeper, and he'd cared about Sapnap enough to visit him before he left, that mattered. 

"I'll miss you," Sapnap whispered, because it felt like it had been forever since they'd all been together in one place and happy, been forever since George-

"I'll miss you too," Eret murmured, hugging Sapnap close. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," Sapnap sniffed.

A pause, and then Eret pulled away, his hands settled on Sapnap's shoulder as he looked him in the eye, making certain Sapnap was meeting his gaze. "I mean it, pup," he said, voice firm. "I know a lot is happening right now, but you need to take care of yourself first.  It's harder to help others when you yourself are struggling.  It may seem selfish, but you'll be able to do so much more when you are stable and rested." The smile he offered Sapnap was small and sad. "Your hurt will not bring Dream back, nor will it bring Jack back.  They're separate issues, and you're allowed to heal and be happy and have space even while they're struggling." 

"It doesn't seem fair," Sapnap whispered, his eyes hot again. "I'm supposed to pretend everything's okay?" 

"You don't have to pretend anything," Eret hummed, hugging him close again. "I just don't want you to forget that with struggles can still come happiness.  It's still allowed.  There's no rule that says you can't, even if your guilt may make you think that's the case." 

"I..." This was the wisdom George should be getting, but if he couldn't- it would be a shame if Sapnap disregarded it. 

A waste, and he didn't want to disrespect either Eret or George like that.

It might not be the best reason to do something, but it was still a reason, and that was enough for Sapnap. "I'll really, really miss you," he settled on. "Take care of yourself too, please.  You and Sam."

He knew how the Secretary got, and Jack cared for him so much, it would wound him to think that Sam was driving himself into the ground over Jack's absence. 

"I will," Eret promised, and they shared a few moments together before they invited Foolish to join them, because this would be the last time they could do this for at least a few weeks, potentially months.

Hopefully they'd find Jack before then, find him because he was alive, but until then, the future was rife with uncertainty. 

Eventually, Foolish had to take them away, and then it was just Sapnap and Drista ignoring their duties.  The runes on the walls hadn't started glowing yet, which meant Dream was still asleep.  Later, Sapnap would try talking to him again. 

For now, he'd do what he could to look after himself. 

It was all he could do.

Chapter Text

"Sapnap," Drista huffed, nudging the bowl of porridge towards him more pointedly. "You promised."

"Right, right." Sapnap shook his head, offering the young dragon hybrid a look of apology before he collected his bowl.  He'd been distracted as of late, too occupied to dwell on food, but he had promised Eret that he'd look after himself – a promise he'd echoed to Philza and Bad and Skeppy and Quackity and all the other visitors that had been allowed into this secret basement in the Wastaken Estate. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry, just eat," Drista huffed, shoveling a spoonful of porridge into her mouth, plucking a handful of the candied dates from the small bowl resting on the tray and sprinkling them into her breakfast. "If either one of us takes a turn for the worse, both of us are going to be barred from here for health reasons." 

"Right," Sapnap echoed. He'd also worry his family, who already had so much to deal with.  He needed to get his head together. 

He ate a few spoonfuls of porridge.  It seemed to settle like stone in his stomach. 

They fell into an uneasy silence, both of them ignoring the elephant in the room.  It had been a week since Dream had gone feral, a week since they'd started the search for Jack.  A week with no new leads, but mostly it was a week of no progress being made with Dream.  Sapnap had tried talking to his alpha a handful of times since that first night but he hadn't made any sort of progress.  Every time was the same.  Dream would be happy to see him, sad that he couldn't reach Sapnap, then shift into an open sort of pleading.  Sapnap would stand firm every time, and when Dream realized he would not get what he wanted, he would turn angry and snarling, spitting furious growls at Sapnap for being such a traitor.  It usually ended with him attacking the barrier until they were forced to shut the doors and hide Sapnap from sight.  The magic should be enough to keep Dream from hurting himself, but they didn't want to risk it.  Didn't want to take any chances. 

Sapnap had been hoping that maybe he would wear Dream's instincts down slowly over time, but the night before things seemed to have taken a turn for the worse.  That time when Sapnap had come into view, there had been no initial warm greeting, no joy.  Dream had immediately met him with snarls, launching himself at the barrier before Sapnap could so much as get a word out, and any time he attempted to speak, his alpha would simply growl over him, silencing his efforts before they could ever truly begin.

The confrontation left him with an overwhelming sense of failure, and it was with a heavy heart that they reported the change back to Dream's parents.  As of right now, Dream's food was being delivered via a redstone system so he hadn't had any regular, proper contact with anyone.  It was why he was normally so excited to see Sapnap even if they couldn't touch, but now he was just- he remembered the betrayal, and that seemed to outweigh everything else.  

In light of that, it was understandably difficult to eat. 

"Maybe it was a fluke," Drista spoke up halfway through their meal, when the two of them were reduced to shifting their porridge in aimless patterns rather than eating it.  Drista's candied dates were all gone though, not that Sapnap blamed her.  He'd saved most of his for his younger brothers out of habit before he remembered that he likely wouldn't be leaving this spot anytime soon.

At least, that was the plan. 

"He might feel bad about it the next time you try," Drista continued. "You know, guilty.  And he'll be a big whiny baby about it, and- and maybe he'll be so sorry that he'll come back to us."

"Maybe," Sapnap allowed, even though he wasn't optimistic.  Dream had been feral for a week now, and the statistics that came with that didn't look good.  When hybrids went feral for that long it took an immense effort to get them grounded again.  Either they needed to complete the quest that drove them into their instincts in the first place, or they needed to be braced with an immense, emotional response or conflict that required a level of coherency only their normal dispositions could offer. 

As of right now, Sapnap could provide neither.  Their current strategy wasn't working and if anything, his presence was making things worse. 

"Hey." Drista's voice was as firm as the boot she dug into Sapnap's leg, her expression just as fierce as she'd ever been. "Don't give up on me, Halo.  So what if we've had a few bad days? This isn't over.  We have to stay here for Dream.  If we leave-"

"If you leave," Sapnap corrected. "If you leave, he'll be all alone, because you're the only one he doesn't snarl at anymore."

"That's just because he's protected me since I was a baby," Drista muttered. "He doesn't think I'm capable of switching off the security runes, even if I am, because he sees me as the little pup he helped teach to walk." 

"You don't have to be so bitter about it," Sapnap mumbled. "At least he wants to see you." 

Sapnap's chest still hurt from the night before, when Dream had launched straight onto the offensive.  Sapnap couldn't even understand the Wastakens' hybrid language and it still left him reeling with shame and hurt. 

"You're needed," Sapnap continued. "But at this rate, I'm just-"

"You're just a quitter," Drista huffed. "It was one bad night.  It'll be better today, you'll see.  It'll-"

She cut off when the door at the far end of the hall opened, both of them turning with interest.  It wasn't time for the servants to collect the trays yet.  A change in the schedule always meant an outside visitor, and depending on who it was, it could either mean good or bad things.

When Ponk, Quackity, Philza, and Duchess Wastaken came into view, Sapnap knew it was going to be one of the harder talks.

Prime, he already wanted to cry.

"Hey," Ponk greeted them, and even with the mask in place, Sapnap could see his exhaustion, something more easily demonstrated by the slow and grunting way he lowered himself to the ground, falling into a sitting position that the others copied with substantially more grace.  He cut straight to the point, aiming a smile at Sapnap. "Would you like this to be a private conversation?" 

Because he needed Sapnap to be honest, and Sapnap would be honest because that was what would best take care of himself, but he couldn't stomach the thought of leaving. 

"No," Sapnap managed eventually, drawing his knees up towards his chest, his breakfast completely abandoned. "We can do it together." 

"I can make them leave," Ponk said. "We can have a meeting right here."

"I just want to get this over with," Sapnap said, stomach curdling with anxiety. "Please." 

"Okay," Ponk's voice was soft when he said it. "Then I think we should talk about last night."

"It was a fluke," Drista insisted. "Why's everyone making such a big deal about this?  It only happened once." 

"That's a fair question," Ponk said, and while his voice was kind Sapnap could see the way Drista took it as patronizing, her lip curling in a displeased snarl. "It ultimately comes down to the fact that when a hybrid is in their instincts, everything has... a lot more weight, let's just say that.  We have to be extra careful, because while they may be more fortified in some areas, they are incredibly vulnerable in others, and certain developments that occur during an instincts' episode can lead to permanent and irreversible damage.  It's why we, as trusted packmates that are not lost to our instincts, have to proceed with such caution." Ponk's gaze went back to Sapnap. "In this particular instance, it's Dream's interpersonal connections that are the most vulnerable.  Right now his feral self has placed Jack's safety above all others.  Perhaps it is because he is a bearer who has already greatly suffered, but we don't know for sure.  All we do know is that Dream's feral self seems to register anyone he deems as in power or of authority that is not actively helping him as a threat, and that's going to start to affect your instincts." Ponk dipped his head towards Duchess Wastaken. "The duke and duchess have a slight edge in that regard.  As Dream's parents, there is a deep subconscious part of him that understands that they would only deny him out of some kind of concern.  They have a deep, long-standing connection, so as frustrated as he may be with them, he's not going to lash out too hard." He gestured towards Drista. "Alternatively, those that Dream perceives to be as not in power, those that are individuals that require his protection, they are welcome companions.  It's why Drista or likely any of the younger pups would be perfectly safe to visit him.  They themselves are in a similar position to Dream – or so his instincts think right now." 

"But I don't fall into either of those categories," Sapnap said, his throat thick. 

Even though he was Dream's second.  Even though Dream had promised to protect him, even though Sapnap had trusted him to take care. 

"You do not," Ponk said, not pulling any punches. "I can only theorize right now, but I suspect that the reason Dream is so especially hostile towards you is because you're supposed to be on his side no matter what.  You're his fiancé, and more than that, you care for George, and to care for George is to care for Jack.  According to his instincts, if you really cared, you would have let him out by now, and the fact that you haven't done that-"

"Makes me his enemy?" Sapnap interrupted, his voice wavering.  

Quackity, who had been holding back to give them space, seemed to give up on this mission and pushed his way forward, settling down by Sapnap and wrapping a wing around the blaze hybrid.  It helped, but it didn't, because the worst really was true.  Dream couldn't care about him right now, didn't have the means to spare Sapnap with his dedication to Jack. 

"As of right now, yes," Ponk said, forever blunt. "You are not his ally, which automatically makes you an enemy." His gaze was sympathetic, but it didn't help the unshakable ache growing in Sapnap’s chest. "I was willing to give exposure therapy a try, but as of last night Dream's instincts made their decision." The words were like a knife to a heart. "Prolonged exposure isn't going to help either of you.  If anything, it runs the risk of ruining your connection whenever Dream comes out of his instincts."

"Do you think that will happen?" Sapnap asked, because he had to know.

"I know it seems bad," Ponk said. "But I sincerely believe that he can come back from this.  I've been talking with the Wastakens, we've been strategizing with Foolish, and we might be able to work something out, but we need time." Quackity gently took Sapnap's hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze.  It was kind, but it didn't feel like he deserved it. "It may take a while, and we don't want you to get hurt in the meantime."

"So I- I need to leave," Sapnap said, leaning into Quackity as he swiped at his cheeks.  He wasn't crying, not yet, but he might get there in time.  Likely would the moment he actually had to walk out of the hallway.

"Yes," Ponk said, but his expression was still serious, still somber. It made Sapnap uneasy. "But there's more to it than that." 

Sapnap wanted to snarl at him, but he knew that Ponk would get there in due time, that he was waiting to see if Sapnap could adjust and take the news as it came.  He didn't want to overwhelm Sapnap – as a doctor he would make sure he did this in the best way possible, but Sapnap just wanted to know already.    

Ponk cleared his throat. "It may take a while, and in the meantime, your own instincts would be in a certain kind of limbo.  Alphas and their seconds are perfectly capable of being apart from each other, but it's different when one is in active distress.  You – as his second – feel compelled to be here for him, it's why you're in this hallway, it's why you've kept trying to repeatedly engage him.  Your instincts are telling you to look after your alpha, but as of right now, Dream has-"

"I know what he's done," Sapnap snapped, and he knew that Ponk was only trying to help, but he couldn't bear to hear 'your alpha has disregarded' you more than once. 

"Then you know it's an unbalanced relationship right now," Ponk said. "Dream perceives you as an enemy and you still see him as your alpha.  It's something that can't stay." 

The pieces fell together with slow and sudden clarity.

"You want... want me to disregard him as my alpha too?" Sapnap said, the words whispered, for he could barely voice them. "You want me to completely absolve it?"

"Right now, this is hurting you more than helping you," Ponk said. "Your instincts are looking for guidance, protection, and affection that Dream isn't capable of giving you right now."

"This doesn't have to be forever," Quackity said, his voice unfairly gentle. "But while Dream's in his instincts-"

"No, I'm not-" Sapnap shook his head abruptly, tears burning in his gaze. "I'm committed.  I'm a good second."

"You're a great second," Ponk said. "You've done a brilliant job.  You've been loyal and supportive, you have been very reliable, but so long as Dream is incapable of appreciating those efforts, you are going to get hurt." Ponk sighed. "I don't make this suggestion lightly.  This isn't how any of us wanted this to turn out, but I do think, as a professional, that this is the best course of action for you.  You need to distance yourself from Dream, you need to focus on the other positive relationships in your life so that when he does come out of his instincts, you will register him as a friend and partner and not as someone who wants to hurt you." 

"Is that what will happen if I stay?" Sapnap asked. "If I keep trying?"

Ponk's expression was sorrowful when he nodded, but he didn't back down. "I'm fairly certain it will." 

There was a moment of silence while Sapnap tried to hold back his tears, and when that eventually failed, he turned to bury his head against Quackity's shoulder, his mom letting him ride out the wave of his sorrow.  They waited for him to be finished, waited until he was in a place where he could listen again.  Phil moved then, settling in on Sapnap's other side, his own wing wrapping around Sapnap and Quackity. 

"We would put a pause on the engagement," Philza explained. "Halt all mention of it for now.  There's plenty of other things going on to keep the public occupied so we'll do our best to minimize it, keep you from attending any non-war related events." His hand covered Sapnap's and Quackity's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "If it gets really bad we'll dissolve it, but that's a last resort." 

"Prime," Sapnap croaked, squeezing his eyes shut. 

It didn't change anything, it still felt like his heart was getting ripped apart. 

He wondered how much worse that feeling would get if he stayed, and knew then he'd have to leave.  They were all telling him to leave, Dream's mom was telling him to leave, and even though his instincts wanted him to stay, he didn't know how much more of this he could take. 

Sapnap needed- he had to be here for Dream when he came out of his instincts, and Sapnap couldn't do that if he stayed. 

With a sniff, he glanced towards Drista to see what she thought.  She was cuddled beside her mom now, quiet tears rolling down her face as well.  When she realized she had Sapnap's focus, her throat bobbed in a swallow. 

"You don't need my permission," she managed, her voice rough. "Dream wouldn't want you to be hurt either.  You should- you should go." 

Sapnap shuddered, tears pouring down his cheeks even though he knew she was right.

"Okay," Sapnap whispered, and the world wasn't ending, it just felt like it was. "Okay." 

They didn't make him leave until he was ready even though they were all busy, even though they all had more important things to do.  They stayed with him until he had the strength to get up and then, for the first time in a week, Sapnap left the recesses of the Wastaken estate, leaving his alpha-

No.  No, he didn't have an alpha anymore.

It was through no fault of his own, but it still-

It hurt.  He hurt. 

It was hard to believe it would be worse if he stayed, and yet, here he was.

~:~

Sapnap retreated to the castle with a heavy heart, eyes red and irritated from the tears he'd wept.  He’d mostly cried himself out by the time they returned to the familiar side courtyard, and he used the secret passages to get back to the royal wing.  Quackity guided him to Bad and Skeppy's shared space instead of his own, and while Sapnap hated to be a burden on his brother when he was already going through so much, both Bad and Skeppy welcomed him with open arms.  Sapnap doubted Quackity told them what was going on, but they were both smart enough to figure it out on their own, to know that Sapnap wouldn't have abandoned his- wouldn't have abandoned Dream when he was vulnerable unless he had to. 

And now he had to.

They were kind enough to guide him to one of their guest rooms, not their main space because that had the nest that Jack had built for the three of them to use while his protectors were at war, and if Sapnap caught the scent of their missing blaze, he would likely breakdown even more thoroughly than he already had.

He lost two days lazing in bed, lacking any motivation to be productive, allowing himself to be lost to his own grief.  He was allowed two days, and then Skeppy was dragging him out of bed, getting him back on some kind of schedule because he knew Sapnap would feel substantially worse later if he wasn’t productive.  He got back into training to get in touch with his protector instincts.  If he wanted to defend the pack, he couldn't lose his edge.  He had to be capable, but more than that, he had to live up to the reputation he'd accidentally built for himself during the war.  He hadn't gone out seeking glory – in truth, he'd just wanted to guard George (and look how that had gone, but he'd- he could fix that, he would fix that, it just couldn't happen immediately.  Like Dream, it needed time), but glory he'd earned for his pack, and he needed to keep up the front of someone who deserved such things.  He was no longer merely Sapnap Craft-Halo, but a symbol of the empire.  He was allowed to hurt, but if he wanted to help his pack, he had to step up.

So that was what he did. 

He started with training, then eased himself into everything else, making sure to visit his younger brothers in the afternoon for play sessions or in the morning to help with their training.  He wanted to bond with them more, wanted to show that even with things as stressful and busy as they were that they still very much deserved his time and affection.  He went back to visiting George, taking on more shifts to make up for Jack and Dream's absence.  He shadowed the nurses the way Jack had, according to Josh, anything so he could be of more use, and then he was sure to make time for the other blaze protector as well.  The Manifolds, he realized, likely felt unbalanced – the thread that connected them to the royal family was gone and as such, they might feel out of place, but Sapnap refused to let that happen.  Not for Jack's little brother, not for his grandfather.  They deserved to be here, to be close to Tubbo, just as much as everyone else did, so Sapnap made a pointed effort to drag Josh into his bonding time with the pups.  He knew Josh wouldn't feel comfortable enough to invite himself in otherwise, but he deserved to be there.  

Sapnap sent a note to Duke Wastaken and was satisfied to find that the older dragon hybrid already had similar thoughts.  He and the duchess were keeping Marquess Manifold appraised of everything that related to the investigation.  Sapnap heard from Josh that he and the Marquess ended up visiting the estate a lot.  Jack's grandfather offered what advice and support he could to Dream's parents while Josh himself supervised visits between Sapnap's younger brothers and Dream.  Since Sapnap's alph- his former alpha was hostile to most individuals who had clearance to be in the depths of the Wastaken estate, they had to be especially dedicated to keeping him socialized.  It wasn't fair to bear the brunt of that effort on Drista, even if dragon hybrids were supposedly perfectly fine when staying alone for long periods of time. 

With so much out of their control, the Wastakens didn't want to risk further harming Dream, so the pups younger than Dream himself were scheduled to visit him often.  Drista would train with him – or rather, be trained by him and Josh would supervise the younger pups while Dream chased them through his obstacle courses or mock-wrestled with them.  Skeppy, surprisingly enough, was also welcomed – the golem hybrid grinning since even in-instinct, Dream knew Skeppy wasn't capable of going against Bad's desires, to the point where there were no ill feelings over it.   

It was a small quorum but they made the most of it, and while Sapnap was somewhat jealous of their ability to interact with Dream positively, ultimately, he was grateful for the distraction it offered Josh and the marquess. 

Another week went by and there was still no news.  There was a good chance that it would take a long time to hear anything even if there was a development, so Sapnap reminded himself to be patient.  Despite the turmoil within the royal flock, there were still victory celebrations to attend.  The parade and ball went off without a hitch, to the point where no one would know anything was wrong, Sapnap's family looked so perfect.  Even with the absences they all felt, each of his packmates seemed to shine – Bad and Skeppy dapper in their matching formalwear, Quackity's grin bright when Philza spun him in easy circles around the floor.  Techno – who had just made it back in town from one of his own investigations – took turns dragging Wilbur and Foolish onto the dance floor, seeming to puff up with pride at getting to be seen with each of Sapnap's guardians. 

It was easy to forget with everything going on that there were things to celebrate – wonderful triumphs that they as an empire and pack had overcome together.  Sapnap tried to hold onto that, but it was hard to block out the whispers about Dream and Jack's absences.  Hard when they marveled over Tubbo's manifested blaze features, hard when they speculated over whether Dream was really Sapnap's alpha because there he was without him, looking as comfortable as could be.

When the opportunity presented itself, Sapnap took the easy out of escorting the young pups away for bedtime when the night was still young, but no one blamed him.  Josh was currently at the Wastaken’s with Drista keeping Dream company, potentially cleaning his scales or getting groomed by him and his perpetual fussiness (Josh had returned flustered after the first time that happened, his scales gleaming brilliantly in the glowstone light of their rooms).  Bad and Skeppy would likely follow Sapnap soon after under the pretense of helping him out, and it was- it was good, and he held onto the good parts of the evening. 

He didn't bother with bath time, simply herding his brothers into their pajamas and tucking them in after a story (or three), then turned his attention to his journal.

Sapnap had started keeping it for George, so he wouldn't forget to update the panther hybrid on everything that happened while he was sleeping.  Now it was for Jack and Dream too.  Sapnap held onto the parts of it that were okay because it made him keep an eye on other relevant people.  Instead of just focusing on Jack or Eret or Foolish, now he wrote about the Wastakens and the Manifolds, about Tubbo and any news Sapnap got from Connor (who would be coming home soon, thank Prime).  It forced Sapnap to stay up to date on everyone's whereabouts, kept him in the moment instead of allowing him to succumb to the more sorrowful aspects of his existence which were – he had to remind himself – temporary.  George would wake up in a few months at most.  Ponk was confident that Dream would come back to them at some point, and Jack-

Sapnap couldn't think about that right now, so he didn't.

Eventually, Quackity came in and after an expected amount of fussing and affection coaxed Sapnap back towards Bad's suite, letting the blaze protector get some proper rest. 

It had been a good evening.  Really, truly. 

He tried to remember that early next morning when Phil came to find them, his eyes red and irritated from what were clearly recent tears. 

"Phil?" Bad croaked, the first to recognize the emperor who had snuck into their room in utter silence, all of them waking to see him perched on the chair next to their bed. "What- what happened?" 

"I..." Phil seemed to struggle to find where to start, his bottom lip clenched tightly between his teeth.  He waited long enough for them to properly sit up and face him, Skeppy and Bad cuddling Sapnap between them on reflex which normally helped, but now Sapnap mostly felt ill, felt like he was going to be sick because what went wrong-who got hurt- Jack-Jack-no. "I'm sorry," Phil said eventually, scrubbing a hand over his face.  His other was curled in his lap, and belatedly, Sapnap recognized the familiar shape of one of the crow messages clenched in his fingers. "I'm not quite sure how to say this.  I still- I'm still coming to terms with it myself." When he looked back at them his eyes were shiny, the weight of whatever was written on that paper rocking him so thoroughly that he could manage none of the composure he'd honed through wars and battle, through wither attacks and kidnapped husbands and packmates alike. "This came in an hour ago," Phil explained, holding up the small piece of paper. "It's from the team we sent out with Sam and Eret." 

Of all the things Sapnap had expected, that hadn't been one of them, and there was a momentary lull of relief as confusion settled over him. 

"Are they hurt?" Bad asked, always one to keep his composure, to connect the dots. "Did they get poisoned?  Did they find anything about Jack?" 

"Bad," Phil cut in before Bad could keep rambling, his expression strained. "I don't know if they found anything out.  They didn't- they didn't get that far." 

Sapnap's breath caught, and everything seemed to get just a little more distant, Phil's words odd and strained as he tried to understand the implications of what was happening.

"There was an attack," Phil continued. "A trap, we suspect-"

"And they were hurt," Bad said, already getting out of bed. "Let me grab my gear.  I've been developing some new potions, if Foolish can teleport me over-"

"Dear one," Phil interrupted, fresh tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.  Sapnap was mostly certain he'd never seen Phil cry before.  Bad had, but Sapnap hadn't.  It just- it didn't happen. "There's nothing left to treat.  It was an explosion, and it-" His throat wobbled with a hard swallow. "There's nothing to bury.  The magic users on sight didn't detect any teleportation runes so it wasn't a cover up, it just... They're just gone." 

There was an ugly moment of silence, and Sapnap, he didn't understand it.  

Eret and Sam were dead.  But Eret and Sam couldn't be dead, they were - they were too competent, too powerful, there was no way-

"Maybe they're just too weak to detect it," Bad pressed, his milky gaze beginning to gleam with unshed tears. "Could Foolish..."

He trailed off when Phil simply hung his head, the weight of his response crashing over them.

"He already looked," Phil whispered. "They're just gone." 

"What- what if it's like Jack?" 

"Bad," Phil cut in, his voice harder. "We looked.  We looked so hard, but Jack- there was a teleportation, we know that. The remnants of that were there, we can confirm that even though we can't trace it because of the explosion, but in this-" His expression crumpled. "There's nothing.  There's nothing to find, the explosion was too devastating.  Too thorough." He hung his head again, staring at his hands. "They're dead." 

A part of Sapnap had recognized it, but hearing it aloud pushed him over the edge, had him burying his face against Skeppy's shoulder just as Bad let out a sob.

"I'm sorry," Phil repeated. "I'm so-"

"You didn't kill them, Phil," Skeppy got out.  Sapnap felt the bed dip behind him a moment before Bad wrapped around his back, holding onto him and Skeppy as he worked through his own grief. "This isn't on any of us."

"I shouldn't have let them go."

"They would have gone anyway," Skeppy said, sounding so strangely knowledgeable, but Skeppy – it was easy to forget under his easy-going confidence and jokester ways that he had a mind sharp enough to keep up with Bad. "You know that.  You love him for that, and he would kick your ass if you started guilt tripping your way through life."

"He would, wouldn't he?" Phil laughed, his voice filled with a helpless fondness. 

"He would," Skeppy hummed. "Now go take care of the others.  We can- we'll be here, but Foolish-"

"Yeah," Phil sighed, a heavy, heartfelt thing. "He's not taking it well." 

It was, perhaps, a bit of an understatement, but one Sapnap didn't learn until later when he was trying to get some air, anything to make him feel more present, like he wasn't walking through water.  He'd adhered himself to his schedule as best he could, but it was difficult.  He could barely focus on his sword forms or flames, and the pups were still in the nest with Quackity, finding what comfort they could while they cried themselves out at the loss of one of their fathers.  Josh remained at the Wastakens to bear the weight of Dream-socialization duty with Drista now that most of them would be out for the foreseeable future, and Sapnap was only allowed a few hours with George before the nurses gently but firmly pushed him away.  

Sapnap spent what time he could with his brother, who'd interacted with Eret more regularly as the individual who had been his primary physician for the last few years.  It was a somber day, and not even the cool bite of wind from his place on the balcony seemed to break Sapnap from the walking melancholy in which he was trapped.

It had been worth a shot.  He was about to retreat into the shelter of their suite when he heard a sudden shout from the gardens below – more of a guttural scream than anything else, and found Foolish scuffling with Techno, letting out despairing wails in Totem all the while.

"No!" Foolish screamed, struggling against Techno's hold while the piglin hybrid slowly but surely tried to herd him back inside.  Foolish's gaze was glowing bright with magic, as was the familiar trident he had clutched desperately in his hand – at least until Techno managed to wrench it from him, throwing it to the side in one quick motion. "I have to try!" Foolish snarled, glowing tears streaming down his cheeks. "Let me try!" 

"You tried already, northstar, you tried," Techno grunted, attempting to sooth Foolish with rumbles he refused to listen to. "You can't keep using your energy like this, there'll be nothing left."

"I have to-"

"You looked," Techno shouted over Foolish's wails. "You looked, and you know he isn't there.  You know it.  I know it, because I- I can't feel him anymore.  I can't feel him because he isn't there." 

"N-No," Foolish gasped, all of the fight seeming to leave him in a furious sweep as he slumped boneless in Techno's arms, tears streaming down his face. "No, it isn't fair.  He didn't deserve it.  Techno, he- he deserved so much, and-" He looked down, a sob rocking through him. "It should have been me."

"No, it shouldn't have," Techno rumbled, one hand cradling the back of Foolish's head as he coaxed the totem hybrid against his shoulder. "Eret would have hated that, you know he would."

"...yeah," Foolish sniffed, abashed. "Yeah, he would have. But-"

"No, it's just that," Techno interrupted with a shake of his head. "It isn't fair, but we cannot dishonor his loss by dying with him.  We have to live on, we have to- to protect what he left behind.  We have to find ways to be happy someday." He nuzzled the top of Foolish's head. "We're allowed to be happy, even with this." 

At once, it brought Sapnap back to what Eret had told him before the consort had left on his trip.  And he knew, knew without Techno having to elaborate, that what he said was absolutely true.  Eret wouldn't want his loss to destroy them.  It would to a degree – that was unavoidable with the absence of someone you loved so dearly – but he'd want them, when they could, to find a way to carry on.  To smile again. 

Oh Prime, he was really gone. 

"I want Eret," Foolish sobbed, the force of it shuddering through his body. "I want him to be happy." 

"I don't doubt that he was," Techno said, sounding so very certain. "Mostly, in thanks, to you." 

Their conversation cut off as they drifted out of view, Techno retreating into the castle with Foolish in tow, and Sapnap just- He remembered Eret's hug.  He remembered Eret's words.

There wasn't much he could do now, but at the very least, he could do his best to try and live by the first consort's advice.  When he was ready, he'd try. 

For Eret, he'd try.

Chapter Text

It took two words to break up the slow monotony that had fallen over Sapnap's life, two words to leave him alert and coherent (and perhaps filled with a modicum of dread, for all that he knew it was warranted). 

He heard them from a runner, who was clearly on a quest to get the entirety of the royal pack updated as quickly as possible while informing the fewest extraneous individuals, leaving the sole aide assigned this task mostly breathless by the time they scurried into Bad and Skeppy's suite in the early hours of the afternoon.

"Connor's back," they gasped, chest heaving. "I mean- Sir- Sir Connor- Sir Lord-"

"He's back?" Sapnap said, graciously interrupting the sputtering aide as they struggled to remember Connor’s new title.  Sapnap was pretty sure Techno had given into his urges and allotted the hedgehog hybrid a proper one instead of allowing Connor to squirm around the formality the way he had for so long.  It wasn’t something he could really get around as a war hero.

His efforts earned him a grateful grin – small but heartfelt. "Yes." They nodded. "And Lord- Duke George is awake as well," they continued, quickly correcting themselves. "They just finished the physical examination-"

Sapnap likely should have stayed to inform his brothers, likely should have shaken Bad awake, should have roused Skeppy.  He should have done those things, but it had been difficult for them to get sleep lately and Sapnap didn't want to interrupt it now that they were finally passed out, but mostly, he couldn't stop the gut instinct that screamed for him to be by George's side immediately, without delay.

So that was what he did, charging out of the suite before the aide could even finish their sentence, pushing onwards and scarcely paying attention to who he brushed by or what he vaulted over to get there.  It wasn't a long trip, but it was slightly hindered by the guards put in place – likely intended for crowd control so George wouldn't get overwhelmed, but Sapnap couldn't wait, he couldn't- not when they finally got something good after all this bad, he couldn't- he-

He flashed his flames, which was actually incredibly unprofessional and likely a violation of one or many rules of etiquette, but Sapnap threw those to wind as he darted through the gap in the doorway, rushing through the medical suite until at last-

George.  Awake and propped up against a pile of pillows.  George, with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks, whose ears were drooping because they must have told him, they must have caught him up, but-

His eyes were open, and that was all Sapnap could care about.  He was awake.  Georgie was okay. 

"Sapnap?" Phil murmured from his spot beside George, perched on the edge of the panther hybrid's bed, a damp rag in one hand.  He must have been helping George clean up. "Firestar, now might not be the best-"

"I'm sorry," Sapnap gushed, gaze locked on George's as he felt his expression crumple with immediate and overwhelming sorrow. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, George." He moved before what courage he had could betray him, crossing to George's free side quickly and falling to his knees next to the bed, pressing his forehead against George's blankets. "We were stupid- we did it all wrong and we hurt you and you were poisoned and Jack-" His voice cracked, and George didn't deserve this either, he shouldn't have to do this sort of emotional labor after exiting a coma, but Sapnap couldn’t' stop himself.  George needed to understand.  Or he didn't- just- Sapnap wanted him too, and maybe that was selfish. "I should have been here for him," Jack gasped. "I was here, and we..." He trailed off, at a loss. "Thank you for coming back," he whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, I'm sorry." 

"Stop gushing, you idiot," George rasped, and it was music to Sapnap's ears, because he was still George and he sounded – not great, but he was still there.  He was there and that was what mattered. 

"Sorry," Sapnap sniffed, looking up so he could take more of George in again, and he might be a little thinner and a little paler but he was still George. 

George, who predictably rolled his eyes, but Sapnap couldn't tell if he was genuinely annoyed of if he was simply taking comfort from familiar patterns.  Either way, Sapnap hoped it helped. "You and Dream didn't do this," the panther hybrid muttered, dismissing Sapnap's guilt with that simple statement alone.  His gaze narrowed, thoughtful. "Where is Dream?  Shouldn't he um- be with his fiancé?" 

Sapnap couldn't stop himself from tensing, pulse jumping on reflex as he thought about the thing he'd steadily not been thinking about for so long.  It was easy to forget except it wasn’t, it wasn’t at all, even with Eret and Sam’s passing he couldn’t stop thinking about it until it threatened to overwhelm him entirely because he was so staggeringly alone, and he’d been alone before but now he was used to having an alpha, someone strong and fierce and bright and Dream was there but he wasn’t and somehow that hurt even more.  

Phil cleared his throat. "That's something else we should address," he said, graciously taking the weight of George's focus. "I know you two are close friends-"

"Were close friends," George muttered under his breath, his ears twitching in annoyance as he looked off to the side.

And that was- that was fair, they’d hurt him and they needed to talk about it even if Dream couldn’t right now, so the weight was- it was all on Sapnap, no pressure – he didn’t have much left and he needed to do this right, couldn’t afford to ruin this- no pressure-no pressure-why had he felt less scared when a mountain of active TNT had been falling towards him?

Phil regarded George with narrowed eyes, his patience seeming to wear thin. "Mate, I know things are hard right now, but please hear me out.  I wanted to wait a bit to ask you this, but Sapnap needs a new alpha."

Sapnap, who hadn't been included in that little conversation at all, felt his face flood with an embarrassed heat, because that wasn't something his dad was supposed to talk about.  It wasn't something parents were really involved in at all unless they were the alpha in question, but he’d just- and he hadn’t even talked to Sapnap about it, and he was just throwing it out there when George was already mad and Sapnap was definitely anxious. 

It boded well for them.  Super well for them.

George seemed just as shocked as he was, enough to let Phil carry on, blissfully unaware of their surprise.

"Ponk thinks with everything that's happened that it could help stabilize him,” Phil continued – so apparently he’d discussed this Ponk but not Sapnap. “Since he had to dissolve the connection with Dream-"

"You what?" George hissed, his narrowed gaze on Sapnap now. "What? He wasn't good enough for you?"

The words struck right at Sapnap’s core, left him floundering, and he didn't know if it was better or worse when Phil picked up the slack. 

"No, that's not what happened at all," Phil said, chastising. "It was for both of them-"

"He abandons Dream and you think- you think I'd want him?" George pressed, his expression darkening with a low fury. "Why would I want a flighty second?  Why would I want a second I couldn't trust to stay by my side?"

Okay that was- Sapnap hadn’t been expecting this conversation to go well since the whole were friends comment, but George was very much hammering in his displeasure now, and it might be fair, it might be justified considering everything that happened, but Sapnap found himself biting back small whines of pain, his heart aching when someone he cared about so very much thought so little of him.

"That's not fair," Phil said when Sapnap felt the heat begin to build in his chest.  He’d known George would be mad about all the other stuff, but he hadn’t expected this to hit as strong a nerve as it had.  Granted, Phil hadn’t presented it well, or at all, but George’s volatile reaction was making Sapnap think that maybe the panther hybrid was projecting, maybe actually upset about something else and of course he was, the bearer he’d been protecting was kidnapped and his dad was dead.  That was- there were plenty of things to be mad about, Sapnap had to hold onto that, George wasn’t really mad at him, but it was hard not to think that when the other protector was glaring at him so thoroughly, like he was disgusted with the mere thought of Sapnap. 

"None of this is fair," George hissed, and he was- he was done. "Get him out of here," he snarled, glaring at Sapnap. "I don't want you as my second.  I don't- I don't want you as my friend, I don't-"

"George," Phil warned. "It's complicated.  Please, don’t say something you’ll regret-"

"Stop babying him!" George snarled, his fangs bared with an angry growl.  Sapnap didn't know if it was better or worse for his ire to be aimed at Phil – all he knew was that he wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. "The rest of us have to live with our actions, why does Sapnap get to be an exception?  Because he's your favorite?  Stop- stop fighting his battles, stop protecting him, stop-"

"George!" Phil roared, a low, steady rumble that had the panther hybrid lurching back into his pillows, eyes wide and tirade immediately abandoned. 

Sapnap didn’t blame him.  He was quaking and Phil hadn’t even yelled at him, Phil was actively protecting him but Sapnap was still terrified, but maybe that was because of the friendship that might have just been thrown away, his instincts mourning because alpha gone-alpha please-be good for alpha but George wasn’t his alpha and didn’t want to be his alpha and Sapnap got to live through the aftershocks of a rejection all over again when he’d never really stood a chance.

Phil's wings were spread, his posture threatening a sure and steady violence, and Sapnap- he could only be grateful for the protection because he felt so, so small.  

It wasn't like George had said anything that wasn't true.

"That's enough," Phil hissed when a tense silence had fallen over them. "I'm going to send for Foolish. Just- rest while I walk Sapnap out."

With that, Sapnap was herded away, George stuck in a dumb silence behind them – shocked or angry. 

Mostly likely angry.

Sapnap didn’t glance back to check.  Couldn’t make himself.  Couldn’t really do anything but weakly swallow down sobs.  He was vaguely aware of Phil sending a runner off to Foolish, and when Sapnap came back to the present he found himself getting coaxed down on a couch in Bad’s main sitting room.

The emperor, who’d been terrifying and unyielding just moments ago now looked exhausted, his wings drooping and eyes glinting with restrained moisture.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said, settling down beside Sapnap and immediately wrapping a wing around him. “I mucked that one up.  I haven’t- I wasn’t thinking.”

“He was right to be mad,” Sapnap whispered, his throat tight.

“But he wasn’t right to treat you like that,” Phil countered, and he sounded so sure, so certain, that Sapnap- he believed Phil too.  It just- he seemed so confident, and he wouldn’t be if it was a lie.  The emperor sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “I was going to bring that up later.  I was going to talk to you first, but I thought- I thought I could distract him from his grief, maybe.  Make it less oppressive by helping you two together.” He offered Sapnap a small smile. “It would be a comfort to me to know you aren’t alone.  To know you had each other.  I think Eret would have liked it too.” He squeezed his eyes shut tight, inhaling sharply. “And now I’ve made things worse.”

“You were trying to do something nice,” Sapnap murmured, grateful for the attempt now that he understood the logic.  Phil had only wanted to help.  He just- he didn’t know everything that’d happened.  He didn’t have context, and without context, he wouldn’t know how fragile things were. 

And George, he might change his mind later, he’d just learned a lot of very hard things, but for the moment-

For the moment, Sapnap would take comfort in the fact he lived.  He didn’t- couldn’t care if George was mad at him, the point was, he was alive, and that was everything.

“Thanks,” he continued when Phil was working through a response. “For protecting me.”

The emperor paused, startled, then melted into an easy smile. “You’re my pup,” he said, gaze rife with fondness as he reached over to ruffle Sapnap’s hair. “I’ll always protect you.”

“Can… could I be your second too?” Sapnap asked, choosing the words with care.  He knew that it wasn’t always the case for protectors within the same family – many times they were simply equals, like in the case with the Wastaken children and their father.  But Sapnap- he didn’t feel that way with Phil.  He needed more.

And this, he realized, was it.

The avian took a moment to process this, seemingly from surprise more than anything else, but then he released a happy chirp, leaning forward so he could bump their foreheads together the way blaze hybrids did.

“Of course, pup,” he hummed, squeezing Sapnap’s shoulder. “I’d be honored.”

Yeah, that was-

It wasn’t Dream.  He wasn’t George, but it was definitely enough for the moment.

Sapnap leaned into it, trying to hold onto his minor victories and not get distracted by the losses.  It was – he knew with very much certainty – what Eret would have wanted.

~:~

As much as Sapnap wanted a second chance to approach George – to convey his gratitude rather than his sorrow because that was what he, as a friend, should have focused on first – the opportunity was stolen from him by a surprising and yet entirely expected medical ban from George's suite.  It was something Sapnap had brought on himself, he understood that.  He'd been awarded an opportunity and he'd blown it for the foreseeable future.  He should have given George his love, his dedication.  Should have actually explained what happened, but that had been- it was selfish to want it so soon after George had woken up.  He was likely going through a lot right now, and Sapnap wasn't his favorite person, that much was clear.  A little space might do them good. 

As much as he understood his banishment – and even Phil's own – there were others on George's do-not-visit list that were somewhat more confusing.  He wasn't sure what Bad or Skeppy had done to earn George's ire other than having the misfortune of being related to Sapnap (or, in Skeppy's case, being imminently related to Sapnap), and Quackity and Techno were another unexpected pair.  George didn't ban Foolish luckily enough, and Connor could still come and go as he pleased, which he likely would have done otherwise, but the fact that the entire Wastaken family had also been barred spoke to just how angry George was. 

"It's George," Bad soothed when Sapnap was whining into his arms that night, the blaze hybrid taking what had become his usual spot between Bad and Skeppy.  The babying punishment from the end of the war had manifested once again as a way of stress management, all of them holding onto what they could during these turbulent times, and while it didn't happen often, they made the most of what time they did get together. "You know how he is.  He just needs some time to lick his wounds in peace.  Then he'll come back as though nothing ever happened." 

It sounded reasonable and it lined up with everything George had ever done before, but Sapnap still felt uneasy.  This wasn't a minor tiff and the losses George was dealing with weren't insubstantial.  This was different.  It would make sense if he reacted differently, especially after finding out that it was his biological brother that had come so very close to murdering him. 

"I hope you're right," Sapnap murmured against his brother's shoulder, Skeppy a comforting weight on his back.  

As grounded as he was by Philza becoming his alpha, at having a proper alpha again, the loss of Dream still ached.  The estate Sapnap was no longer allowed to visit, the gifts that had been confiscated – all so his instincts wouldn't try to cling to what wasn't healthy for him.  

Things had been so much easier before the war.  Sapnap wished he could go back to that time when they were all together, when Jack was cheerfully helping him make his bed at the Wastaken estate while Dream poked fun at Sapnap while aiding Jack's efforts with the utmost care.  At the time, Sapnap had been a little jealous, but now it was humorous to imagine the mammoth that was Dream dutifully following behind this tiny bearer who had to tweak and adjust every pillow until they were positioned just so. 

And through it all, George had watched on from his position splayed across Sapnap's sun bench, happily reclining across the window seat as though he owned it and he did, as far as Sapnap was concerned.  He did, if that was what would get him to stay. 

It had been such a short period of time, and now it was all wrong again. 

He didn't know what to do. 

Weeks passed, and Sapnap tried to help his pack as best he could.  Tried to help with his younger brothers or his dads or moms, tried to make sure Bad wasn't stressing himself into an early grave, he’d been quieter lately, smile strained because even he was not immune to the tension that lingered in the castle.  They had Eret's funeral and it was awful – even if it was the best version of the event it could have possibly been.  Perfectly respectable and dignified – the weather clear, the attendants mannerly.  It was the first time Sapnap saw George since he woke up and he couldn't even get anywhere close to him until the reception, but even then George and Foolish didn't stay long.  No one blamed them, and when Phil had to leave shortly thereafter, Quackity holding his hand all the while, Sapnap stepped up to help Wilbur and Techno manage the crowds, Marquess Manifold and Duchess Wastaken easily fending off the nobles that still searched for blood or opportunities, until they reached the socially acceptable time to abandon their own party. 

It was only then, in the privacy of the secret passages, that Wilbur broke down, the mask he had so carefully crafted shattering into a million pieces as he leaned into Techno. 

"It's not fair," Wilbur sobbed, the entirety of his weight slumped against Techn, who took it with ease.  One hand was pressed against his lower abdomen where the slightest curve was now evident, something that wouldn't be caught unless one knew to look for it. "They should- they should have gotten t-to meet their father, they should have-" Wilbur released another sob. "I wasted so much time." 

"He knew your love," Techno soothed, gathering the distraught bearer with effortless strength. "When it mattered, he knew it, and that was more than enough for him." 

"But it wasn't for me," Wilbur crooned, and when he trailed off into incoherent sounds of bearer distress Techno met him with rumbles, the two piglin hybrids huddled together as they worked through their grief, aching at the loss of their mate.

It wasn't a toll Sapnap himself had paid, not yet, but he couldn't help but wonder if that was what he was heading towards.  Dream was in his instincts, but his mom seemed so sure he'd come out of them at some point.  When he did, would he even still want Sapnap?  Would George ever want to talk to him again?  And Jack-

If Jack was gone, truly gone, Sapnap couldn't help but think it was cruel for it not to be a certainty, that they were trapped in this limbo of desperate hope that would, for now, remain furiously unanswered.  None of their search efforts had borne fruit, and yet, but they kept trying.

It was all they could do.

"Come on, Sappy," Bad murmured, tugging him and Skeppy away from the crying pair.  Back in Bad's suite, they could share their own grief together, but for now-

They all needed space and time to grieve as they needed to.

~:~

Sapnap heard about George leaving the castle secondhand through Bad, who was clearly upset by the decision, as little as he could do anything to stop it.

“I know he has to work,” Bad had said later that night, cuddling Sapnap in his lap while Skeppy splayed out on top of both of them with a comforting pressure. “And I know he can do more if he isn’t here.  I know George gets better when he’s allowed to process things on his own, I just- I really want him close, and I know that’s a selfish desire-”

“We’re allowed to be selfish,” Skeppy grumbled, carefully running his fingers through Sapnap’s hair. “The guy almost died and we love him to pieces.  I just- I wanna grab him by the shoulders and shake him a bit.  Just a little.  Just until he remembers how much we love him and no amount of almost-poisonings is ever going to change that, no matter who attacked him.”

“Maybe we should send him a care package,” Bad said, sounding thoughtful. “Letters he can open in his own time.”

“I don’t think he’ll want to hear from me,” Sapnap said dejectedly.  He understood that he’d earned his fate, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop bemoaning it anytime soon.

“You don’t know until you try,” Skeppy offered, his voice soft as he nuzzled the top of Sapnap’s head. “You could always write him something.  He might ignore it, might burn it, but if he keeps it- makes a little stockpile for himself, when he does read them, it could do a lot.”

“Oh,” Sapnap breathed, because he hadn’t thought of that.  He knew the way George worked, he understood the panther hybrid’s need for control was a way to mitigate his own anxiety.  If Sapnap kept approaching him, even if he spaced it out, if it wasn’t on George’s terms it was never going to go well, especially when George was in such a fragile period of his life.

Letters, though- he might burn them, but he’d at least see that Sapnap cared.  He had the option to engage with them or not.

It was a really good idea.

“Yeah,” Sapnap said, nuzzling into his future brother-in-law, into the golem hybrid that had become pack long before he’d started courting Bad. “I think we should do that.”

Skeppy and Ant were practically family – but the cat hybrid had taken Duke Sam’s loss hard, so they hadn’t seen much of him lately.

“Then let’s do it!” Bad cheered, and it was better now that they had a plan in place.  It might not be the best plan, but it was definitely more than nothing. “Great job, Skeppy.”

“I live to serve,” Skeppy rumbled, happily leaning into the affection they gratefully gave him.

It was one thing to know that they had to keep their distance in theory, but in practice it was- Sapnap struggled, and it only got worse when he heard through Drista that George had started visiting Dream.

“I didn’t actually expect it to happen after the whole banning thing,” Drista admitted, a slight hint of self-consciousness sneaking into her tone as they quickly caught up after running into each other in one of the side hallways, both of them on their way to their respective trainings. “But he shows up and Dream’s letting him in.  It didn’t – you know – change anything-” Even with her mask in place, Sapnap could understand what she was implying, that Dream was still lost to his instincts, which was slowly but surely going to become a secret they weren’t going to be able to hide from the populous at large. “But I think it’s helping both of them a little.”

“That’s good,” Sapnap said, somehow managing to keep his voice from sounding like he’d swallowed gravel.

It was good.  They’d all been hoping George would visit Dream.  Granted, it had been because they had hoped that he would be able to break Dream from his instincts, and while that hadn’t seemed to work, the fact that Dream was permitting George to regularly visit could definitely be seen as a positive.  And it was.  It was.  Sapnap had to remember that.  He couldn’t let go of that very important fact even if it made his shoulders tighten and his stomach drop, even if he wanted to curl up into something small and easily ignored because he was still banished from Dream’s side, and George wasn’t. 

And it made sense.  George and Dream had known each other for far longer, had maintained a positive relationship for longer than Sapnap had even known him.  Sapnap and Dream had only bonded during the war and their relationship had gone through the paces at incredible speeds that still left Sapnap unbalanced.  It made sense for Dream to welcome George and not Sapnap – George had almost died, George was still recovering from his injuries, George had just lost his father – there were plenty of reasons why George would register as something passible to Dream’s instincts while Sapnap didn’t.

Just- it was hard to tell his instincts that.  And that was- the entire point of this distance was so Sapnap wouldn’t get hurt, so Sapnap could stay safe and whole and ready when Dream came back, but it was hard not to feel like a loser.  Like the odd one out.

What if when Dream came back he didn’t want Sapnap anymore?  What if Sapnap had only been a placeholder for George?

He wasn’t supposed to dwell on this, it was bad for his mental health – that was the entire point of this distance, but still, Sapnap found himself ducking out of training early so he could cry in the privacy of his own suite, feeling helpless and abandoned.  It was almost fortunate that they’d had so many terrible things happen to them recently – it gave him plenty of excuses for his little breakdown, and when Quackity found him later, Sapnap just sputtered some nonsense about Eret (who to be fair, he did miss deeply).  The comforting coos he received in turn were eagerly soaked up, and Sapnap- he let himself have this moment.  Just this one.  He’d build himself up better later, make himself useful later, but for now, he’d have this one cry and he’d move on.

One foot in front of the other, he’d keep going forward.

Chapter Text

The season was changing, and his papa was dead.

The sun glinted through the sliver parting of the curtains, and his papa was dead.

His limbs felt heavy, tired from grief and disuse, and his papa was dead.

To say that Ant had taken the news of Sam’s passing well would be a lie so horrific it bypassed fictional utopia and nosedived right into a joke so tasteless its origins must be conceived by James Schlatt himself, with the former Earl Boomer coaching him from the sidelines.

Ant’s papa was dead, and no one seemed to have any answers, which was among the growing list of things that were utterly unforgivable, considering the situation.  He couldn’t remember how he was told – only had vague recollections that Marquess Manifold had been the one to do it, sequestering Ant and Josh someplace private, an expression on his face of such deep emotion that Ant hadn’t been able to label it, didn’t understand it for the grief that it was until the news was delivered.  That part was a blur now, but there had been screaming – and that was- it had been from Ant, Ant screaming, and he shouldn’t upset his baby and it could only upset his baby but that was wrong and how dare they tell him something wrong, it was impossible, his papa wouldn’t go down like that, he had promised to come back and Sam didn’t break his promises, and how dare they lie.

“No!” Ant had screamed, over and over again, something that had only intensified Josh’s cries. “No, stop lying!”

But the marquess had never been one to play pranks, not even one as tasteless as this.  He tried to soothe them, but he was only one hybrid, and Ant was a bearer on a rampage, and at some point he must have passed out, screaming himself into unconsciousness.

Later, the marquess would inform him that he’d been sedated.

Ant did not blame him.  In fact, he was grateful that the marquess had protected his baby brother in such a way.  Dealing with Ant like that must have been… unpleasant.

Ant had woken in his room in Manifold Manor, and while the exact specifications of his memory hadn’t returned, the finality of his situation did not escape him.  The new world order under which he must live, the irrefutable truth, the new absence in his pack- there was no ignoring it.  His papa was dead, and Ant had never even had the courage to make it official, and Sam had never pushed, had never considered it, not once, because that wasn’t who he was.

“You've been worried about something lately,” Ant had said at that party that had gone right off the minecart rails.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Sam had replied, but later had never come, and now his papa was dead.

And Ant just- hadn’t dealt with it.  He’d woken up in his nest and hadn’t mustered the energy to leave it for anything other than the utmost bodily necessities.  He stayed in his nest, trapped in time, knowing that the moment he left this space he would be expected to function like a normal member of society, that he would have to strive onwards as though a gaping wound hadn’t been left in his chest, the claws of fate digging in like jagged knives, uncaring for the damage left behind.

Ant didn’t know why it was hitting him so hard.  Perhaps it was because he was an orphan.  Perhaps it was because he was unmated.  Perhaps it was because he was unrecognized, because he had no pups, because he only had two packmates, and he’d just lost one of them.  And the other was- was needed elsewhere.

“He’s at the Wastakens,” Marquess Manifold had explained during his first, brief visit – brief mostly due to the limited quantity of Ant’s lucidity. “They need- we’re all grieving now, and having a mission seems to help.”

There were words he hadn’t said, that he wouldn’t say, but Ant heard them well enough.  Josh was doing better there and not here, where there was a bearer that would only hurt him.  Who did not offer support and love the way a bearer was supposed to when it was most needed. 

Ant was a bad bearer, just as he’d always been, and a worse brother, and their papa was dead.

There was no point to him anymore.  He knew the sentiment was one Sam would hate, would argue against vehemently.  Ant had plenty of purpose without Sam, he would insist, because his papa was forever unaware of just how- how much he meant to everyone.  He could never see that, would never understand, but Ant wasn’t the only one feeling his absence, he was just the only one being obnoxiously catered to because he was a bearer, and bearers were special.

Ant hated his second sex.  He always had, and he didn’t expect it to change anytime soon, even if it was the entire reason he’d gotten his pack at all, the only reason he had a little brother and a papa to look to, though he’d already lost half of that, with the other sure to follow the moment he was back on his feet.  Ant had proven how vile he was, after all.

With a sigh, Ant turned his gaze back towards the window, the curtains drawn in deferment to him, and allowed his fingers to curl into the fabric of his topmost blanket.  It was one Sam had selected for him, a gift with runes that retained Sam’s scent.  It was dyed a pleasing shade of emerald and plush in a way few fabrics managed without being quilted.  Sam had invented an entirely new textile manufacturing process just to create such a perfect birthday gift.  He’d given the rights to the blueprints to Josh for his birthday, and taught him how to funnel the money back into the Manifold territory, taught him which charities could be trusted with the donations. 

He did so much for them.  They never asked – they never would have thought to, but Sam had never hesitated to give them every inch of the world that was within his realm to offer.  Perhaps that was what had drawn Ant to him in the first place.  Such genuine kindness had been foreign to him – someone being good just for the sake of it- that wasn’t real.  At first it had been annoying because Ant had perceived it as an act – the Duke of Awe’s own way of navigating upper society, but the more Ant got to know him… that was just Sam.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” Ant had said the fifteenth or so time Sam had been terribly nice to him without expecting anything in return. “I understand the depths of your honor now, you don’t have to prove it.”

“What?” Sam aimed an expression of pure confusion at him that Ant would grow to learn was a show of vulnerability offered only to his most trusted confidants, because Sam had no reason to hide anything from them. “That wasn’t- how would this prove my honor?”

As that was not the response Sam was supposed to give in the slightest, Ant had no idea what to reply. “It- you’re overcompensating for my initial poor impression?”

“I am?” Prime, Ant hated to think that the expression the older hybrid wore in that moment could only be considered ‘cute’. “Wait- no, that’s not- I just wanted you to be happy.” He blinked once, slow, as though his mind were processing things. “I like doing that for my allies, so really, my motivations are entirely selfish.”

It seemed too good to be true, and as such, Ant’s cheeks had puffed up in annoyance. “Okay. Sure, your grace.”

“Thank you!” Sam had said with utter sincerity, because he didn’t always understand sarcasm, and Ant missed that too, missed-

Prime, it was all too much.  He should check on his baby, on Sam’s other son, but why would Josh want him anymore?  The screaming, and he’d been crying, begging for Ant to stop, but he couldn’t stop, and he’d hurt them all-

He squeezed his eyes shut, gaze stinging from the tears he no longer had to cry.  He had spent them all, and now he was empty and listless.  Depression, he thought idly, was a dangerous affliction for bearers.  They were meant to unify communities, after all, meant to be bigger than themselves, and feeling utterly incapable of that-

But Jack had survived much worse and come out the other side glowing.  He’d lost his father, his child, and had been so damn loved.  Had presented when he was sixteen – early, but not early enough to be disgusting, not like Ant.

There were few as wretched as Ant.

Ant was pulled from his thoughts by the gentle wrap of knuckles against his door, beating a pattern indicative of only one person. 

At least this time, Ant had the energy to face him.

“May I come in?” Marquess Manifold asked, tone just as polite as always.

“It is your home, my lord,” Ant said, keeping his gaze toward the closed window.  He had but to look at the clock to know what time it was, but the guilt he currently held was too much to bear without adding more onto the pile. “You are always free to enter.”

“That isn’t permission,” Marquess Manifold said, his tone as neutral and lacking judgement, same as always.  He had likely perfected such things on Josh over the years, and as such, could master the balance of supportive and authoritative with little effort. “If company is not welcome, I only ask that you permit a tray be delivered.”

Here, they gave Ant as much space as they were able to, though they always made sure he stayed fed and hydrated whether he wanted it or not.  In the early days, he had not wanted it, but the marquess had not come this far by being weak, and one despondent bearer wasn’t going to stop him from achieving his goals.

“…you can come in,” Ant said, turning his stare down towards his blanket.  Sam had a stockpile of these exact blankets – each imbued with his scent – just in case Ant lost or destroyed his somehow.  Josh had told him once.  There were at least two hidden in a secret compartment in Sam’s office.

Josh had always found a stash of candies he himself had been too shy to claim as his favorite, but of course Sam had known.  Sam always knew when it came to his family.

“You can change your mind whenever you’d like,” Marquess Manifold said before giving Ant a few moments to do just that if he so chose. 

Ant didn’t, just like he hadn’t the other times, because who was he to deny a protector entrance to their own territory?  He couldn’t be that ungrateful.

After the perfunctory waiting period had passed without any denials from Ant, Marquess Manifold allowed himself into the space, shutting the door quietly behind him.  Somehow, he appeared as unchanging as he ever did, as resolute and stalwart, but Ant suspected that he was simply more accustomed to carrying the weight of grief.  After all, when the bulk of his family had been stolen from him over the course of one terrible afternoon, he didn’t have the luxury to shatter apart the way Ant did.  He still had a grandson to look after and a territory to guard.

Ant had none of that.

“Though to reiterate,” the marquess began, crossing to the visitor’s chair beside Ant’s bed in long, elegant strides.  He was the only one that used it. “I’d much prefer you call me ‘grandpa’ than ‘my lord’.”

It stirred something awkward in Ant’s gut.  Something he didn’t know how to handle.  “You don’t have to feel any obligations just because I claimed your grandson on a whim.”

“I think there was hardly anything spontaneous about the decision,” the marquess countered evenly. “And for that, I am grateful.  You provided a light to Josh’s life that I myself could not.” He allowed the smallest of grins to pull at his lips. “It warms my heart to know that my grandsons can take such care of each other.”

Ant inhaled sharply, his chest beginning to ache. “I’m not-”

“You are Josh’s brother,” the marquess interrupted, something he normally did not do – none of them did, not to Ant the bearer – but this time it was a necessity, so he had. “Therefore, you are my grandson.” There was a file folder tucked under his arm, one Ant hadn’t seen until the marquess was removing something from it – some official looking paperwork Ant couldn’t be bothered to read now. “It was formalized this morning.  Technically, you are a ward of the Manifold family.  I’m sorry to say that it was the best I could do in these turbulent times, but I have made it clear that you are every bit as important as Josh, and you are not to be harmed.”

“Are you my new guardian?” Ant asked, a smile on his lips that held no humor. “Do you take up in Sam’s stead out of a sense of guilt?”

“I carry the weight of many regrets,” the marquess allowed. “From them, I would like to think I have learned a thing or two, and if one thing is clear, it is that family is a commodity more precious than any amount of coin or art or treaty the world could ever think to conceive.  Ant,” he continued before the cat hybrid could interrupt. “I do not see my daughter in you.  I do not see Sam or Jack or any of the others you think I may imagine in your stead.  I simply see you – wounds and all – and I expect nothing more or less from you.”

Ant swallowed hard, the lump in his throat seeming utterly unmovable. “I made Josh cry.”

“And I made you have a horrific breakdown,” the marquess countered calmly. “But you would not hold that against me, much like Josh would not hold that against you.  It was terrible news to receive.”

The blanket was soft, and his papa was dead.  The pillows were firm, and his papa was dead.  The marquess was strong, and his papa was dead.

It was just another fact of life.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ant whispered, the admittance a terrible thing in the wake of such unyielding generosity. “I don’t know why it hurts so much.”

“Bearers are always particularly sensitive to pack matters, and your litter is a small one,” the marquess said evenly, as though expecting the answer.

It wasn’t right. “But his majesty- and even Jack-”

“They suffered,” the marquess interrupted once more. “But they also had large support systems to fall back on, that they allowed to carry them forward as they worked to heal themselves.”

“They didn’t always,” Ant pointed out, his words barely a whisper.

“No, they didn’t start that way,” the marquess agreed. “But they got there.”

Ant heard the words he didn’t say.

If he so wished it, he could have his own unconditional support system.  He could have additional focus from Bad and Skeppy, from Sappy, even.  He could have Tina and Josh and perhaps the rest of the royal family by extension, but Ant- he couldn’t do that.  He couldn’t force someone’s hand simply because of what he was.  He hated the idea of being that kind of obligation.  He knew he wasn’t a good bearer; he’d proved it through years of remaining unseen in the highest level of society – only Sam had ever found him out.  The four dukes had known, and now two of them were-

Now three of them were dead.

It was just the Wastakens that were left, but they had their own battles to fight with Dream as lost to his instincts as he was.  At the very least, they would be too distracted to know what a failure Ant was.

“I worry about you,” the marquess said, painfully direct because they’d learned that much from Sam, learned that the world of nobility might require subtlety, but with pack, they could be clear. “It is natural to grieve.  There is no timeline for these things, but it is- it is dangerous to stagnate.  It can be difficult to get started again.”

“I-” Even this was exhausting, how could Ant be expected to move on?  But he understood the intent, understood that these were an extenuating circumstance, that not every moment would be an intensely emotional conversation. “I can’t- I don’t think I could be your assistant.”

It had come as somewhat of a relief to learn that Marquess Manifold was stepping back into his position as Head of the Infrastructure Guild in Sam’s absence.  He was the one who had yielded the title to Sam originally after the loss of his packmates, and to know that all that Sam had built was being protected had allowed the tension in Ant’s chest to lessen.  He hadn’t even known that it was there, but he’d feared- he was the most senior assistant, it would have made sense to give him the spot, even if he was a commoner-

But he didn’t have to do that.  The guild was in the marquess’s safe hands, and Ant had no expectations.

But he couldn’t go back to that.  Despite fighting so very hard for his position in the castle, despite dedicating every ounce of happiness his childhood was supposed to- but who the fuck was he to complain when Jack had been enslaved – Prime, he really hated himself sometimes.

He’d given everything he had, and now he couldn’t stomach the spoils he had earned.

“I would not ask that of you,” the marquess said, his voice gentle. “I had a different offer, should you be amendable.”

“Share it, then,” Ant said, mustering a sad grin.  It was kind to see someone fight so hard for him, even when he had no desire to do so himself.

“As you know, I have also taken up my old position on the Advisory Council,” Marquess Manifold explained. “Or rather, finally accepted the offer that was given to me so many years ago.  This has brought me in greater contact with those I had seen rarely, among which is Captain Puffy.”

Ant tensed. “Is she-”

“She’s fine,” the marquess soothed. “Though a bit overwhelmed with work.  It is difficult for her to balance her duties as nanny along with managing the growing political turbulence.”

“I can’t- I’d be a terrible nanny,” Ant said, already knowing where this was going. “I don’t do pups.”

“You worked just fine with Josh.”

“He was older,” Ant said, his face warm. “Not- not a child.”

Until recently, Ant had always avoided the problem that young hybrids might present.  True, he’d made an exception for Bad’s new adoptive siblings because they were Bad’s siblings, and Ant could play chase or tag as well as anyone else, but interacting with them full time- what if he ruined them?  What if he infected them with his- and they were just pups.

“This isn’t blind profiling,” the marquess said evenly, holding Ant’s gaze. “I do not make this suggestion because you are a bearer and bearers should be with pups, I just think- perhaps you need a change of pace, and these princes- you have suffered a similar loss, haven’t you?  You are one of the few that can understand what they have gone through.”

That was true, but-

“I won’t know what to do with them beyond that,” Ant whispered. “How to- to get them to do things, or brush their hair or- any of it.”

“Well,” the marquess began, settling back in his chair with all the regality as though it were a throne. “Records would indicate that you were at the top of every class you had back at the royal academy and throughout your secondary school.  I have great confidence in your ability to learn it.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Ant grumbled, but he couldn’t really argue with that.

The blaze hybrid’s gaze softened.  He was so much taller than Josh- abnormally tall for a blaze hybrid, but he had never shied away from this trait that had made him stand out so much, had only ever worn it with a natural grace that sometimes made Ant seethe with envy. “You do not have to indulge your grandfather if you don’t want to,” he said, his words painfully earnest. “If this hurts more than helps, then we will find a different path for you.  One that brings comfort.”

“I don’t know if I have one of those anymore,” Ant admitted.  He felt so empty.

“We’ll find it,” the marquess pledged, reaching over to take Ant’s hand in his own.  It was rough in a way most nobles’ hands weren’t, but it was warm, and Ant clung to it desperately. “We are pack, dear one, there is no battle we cannot face together, no matter how long or difficult it may be.”

“Fuck you,” Ant repeated wetly, the tears he thought were gone now burning in his gaze. “Seriously, though.”

“As your grandfather, I will politely overlook your foul language,” the marquess murmured. “Though if you use it in public, I only ask that you do so with flare.” His grin widened. “Make a blazing introduction to the world as a Manifold.”

“Grandpa,” Ant said, trying out the word.  It was painfully easy. “It hurts.”

“I know,” the marquess said, and when he shifted forward for a hug, Ant clung to him gladly, taking in the firm and steady heat that intensified with each pulsing breath.

His grandfather was warm, and his papa was dead.

Somehow, he would have to make peace with that.

~:~

Fortunately, they did not throw Ant straight into the deep end.  A physical therapist was brought in to help him get used to moving again and Prime, did that hurt his pride, that he had fallen so low that even the most basic activities left him winded.  He had not left Manifold Manor much since the news had been delivered, exiting only to attend Sam’s funeral in a blank daze, his seat guaranteed next to Josh as Sam’s heir despite a literal hoard of Awe branch family members’ fearsome scowls.  It would seem that their brown nosing in life had done little to win Sam’s favor, and Josh would have to suffer the weight of that, but Ant-

He’d barely been present, he and Josh exchanging only the most superficial of greetings before they had parted.  Thankfully, no one had expected Ant to attend the reception, and he’d spent the entire carriage ride back to the Manifolds weeping into the folds of his arms, somehow summoning even more tears despite having thought himself fully expended of such efforts.

His training at the castle would be his first proper reintroduction to society, and it would seem that he had earned the same overprotective treatment that Josh was subjected to, Marquess Manifold- his grandfather, unwilling to encourage Ant’s escape until he was equipped in every way possible.  For now, that involved rebuilding his physical stamina, then likely his mental one, at least, as much as he could considering the situation.  He had not forced the issue of a therapist yet, for which Ant was grateful.  For now, he would indulge in the new wardrobes and stylists that would visit the manor personally, would approach the multitude of beauty products and hair creams with the same intellectual curiosity Sam might, the things he used to love because they were luxury goods purchased by his own hand, something that had supposedly been beyond his modest origins.  Like everything else, he’d abandoned such comforts in his grief, but returning to them helped Ant settle his armor properly in place.  

“Peculiar,” he could imagine his father saying, inspecting each of the jars with the same careful consideration he would offer redstone blueprints, because he was never one to overlook an opportunity to learn. “These do not seem entirely necessary, but if they provide a mental placebo that boosts confidence, then they are worthwhile investments, are they not?  For security and comfort in one’s own being are precious commodities, truly.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Ant would have complained, and Sam would have only grinned in response because he did not take such accusations as slights – rather, he wore them with immense pride, because he really was just…

How he had gone on so long without being declared the empire’s greatest bachelor, Ant did not understand.  He assumed that had to do with some stupidity relating to his majesty Eret and-

There was- there had been something between them – first something that had gone wrong, and then something weird, and Ant hated it, because he was almost certain that was the reason Sam had died and it wasn’t fair, he had already given so damn much to the greedy Essempi, did he have to offer his life as well?

But Eret was dead too, which was a national tragedy that proved to be somewhat of a comfort to Ant because he was actually terrible, but if it helped him get by- well, it wasn’t like he could afford to be picky.

The preparations left him stuck at Manifold Manor for at least a week more, and Ant wasn’t sure if he was grateful or frustrated by it.  Now, he was finally prepared to leave – he wasn’t excited by it, about the idea of people, of pups, but he had to keep going. He’d survived so much worse than this, and he had far more friends and packmates than he had last time.  Even if it was still a diminutive amount compared to the other bearers of the castle, it wasn’t nothing.  Ant would have to fight to keep what he had; he could try for that much.

His physical recovery was repetitive, but it wasn’t difficult.  Ant had come to welcome the monotony of it, if only to buy himself some mental space, and then one day they had a visitor.

It wasn’t his baby, but-

“My lord?” grandfather’s steward spoke up from the other side of Ant’s door when Marquess Manifold was visiting him for tea.  Ant was still working up to taking it out in the garden, but for now, the sunny receiving room of his suite was a safe enough change of pace.

Marquess Manifold straightened, his expression shifting ever so minutely away from the laxness he adopted with trusted company to his more dignified shield of the leader of this territory. “There are to be no interruptions during my private time with my grandson, I don’t think I could have been any clearer about that.”

“Begging your pardon, my lord, but we just received a guest that was on the exception list,” the steward said, something that made the marquess pause. “Marchioness Jones has arrived.”

“Oh.” The marquess blinked, then turned his attention back towards Ant. “While the marchioness is yet a stranger to you, I believe you will find great comfort in them.  I would like you to meet at some point, but if you’re not yet ready, that can wait for another day.”

“If you trust them, I’m okay with it,” Ant said, his own brows drawn in interest.  Jones was not a family name with which he was familiar.  He would think them a barony – whose numbers were numerous and difficult to keep track of – but a marchioness- Ant would have known them.  Sam had made sure that he and Josh could recognize all the upper nobility of the empire, which meant that this marchioness… they must be from somewhere else.

“Then show them in, please,” his grandfather said. “But let them know that Ant is present.”

“And aren’t I glad for it!” a new voice said, the words accompanied by the door being thrown open and a red-haired hybrid launching through the doorway.

They were- they were an avian.  Red hair and red wings accompanied by a short tunic dress that was much the style of-

“Achieveburg,” Ant said, blinking. “You’re from Achieveburg?”

“That I am!” the avian chirped, claiming the other chair at their tea table and throwing themselves into it. “Marchioness Lindsay Jones of Achieveburg, at your service.”

“They’re your papa’s cousin in law,” the marquess explained.

Before Ant could process that, Lindsay gasped, low and deep. “You’re one of Sam’s babies?!” they chirped, both fists propped under their chin as they leaned forward, seeming to analyze Ant with sparkles in their eyes. “I’m so glad to finally get to meet you! Sam always gushed about you in his letters!”

“You’re Gavin’s wife,” Ant realized with a blink – a cousin-in-law, there was only one cousin that Sam regularly referred to, one he’d helped move to a different country to break free of the oppressive expectations of the Awes.  Gavin Awe had married into Achieveburg nobility, becoming Marquess Consort Gavin Jones, and while Ant had met his husband a grand total of once (apparently Marquess Mogar took up mercenary work on the side much like Techno, because that was just a thing eccentric noble warriors did), and Sam’s cousin a handful of times, he had never met his wife.

Considering the fact that they were an avian, that wasn’t all that surprising.  Being automatically considered royalty in the empire would have complicated matters with Achieveburg, and as female avians tended to be the bosses of their respective flocks, Ant was sure that Lindsay was exactly where they wanted to be, and arguing with them on that matter would not be well received.

“That’s me!” It seemed that Lindsay only spoke through exclamations and extreme enthusiasm, which lined up with what little Sam had shared of them. 

His papa had loved his cousin and his pack by extension, had only the fondest words to share along with the letters and constant gifts he had sent their way.

“I came to provide a status update, as you’re the last of Sam’s immediate family,” Lindsay continued, their expression sobering somewhat, though their smile stayed in place, if shifting into something fonder, more subdued. “We’ve been investigating the incident-”

“You have?” Ant cut in, pulse spiking with a rush of adrenaline, and all at once, he was grateful his grandfather had encouraged this meeting. “What did you find?”

Lindsay made a face. “Not as much as we would like, which is why we’ll keep digging.  For now, though, we have to focus on the present and stabilizing the pack’s position.”

“I’m grateful that you made the trip,” Marquess Manifold said, dipping his head in a show of respect. “I imagine things are quite busy on your end.”

“Oh, they are,” Lindsay confirmed with a nod before turning their attention to Ant. “Sam made Josh his heir, though truth be told, we all knew it was something that wouldn’t hold up.”

“They’ll eventually overrule the decision once the Manifold estate becomes a proper duchy,” his grandfather added.

“And when that time comes, Gavin will take over as the next rightful heir, but for now, Josh unfortunately has to deal with all the political fallout to stall for time while we extricate ourselves from Achieveburg politics.”

“Are things so dire there?” Ant asked, intrigued.

“There’s some general unrest surrounding the exciting developments that have occurred in the empire,” Lindsay replied with a shrug. “But Geoff and Jack have always been pretty laidback-”

“Those are Achieveburg’s kings,” Marquess Manifold elaborated.

“So ultimately, we’re fine, we’re just getting our estate in order for our eldest – Kerry – to take over.” Linsday sniffed, fanning at their face. “Seemed like it was just yesterday that he was my little cub, eager for nappies and guarding his baby brothers, and now he’s going to be a marquess.” The fanning intensified. “I’m so proud, and Miles is such a good partner for him- well, we have to have their wedding and then settle our estate and then Gavin can come here, but if we leave Sam’s position vacant for too long- you know how the other Awes are.”

“Stubborn,” Ant allowed, taking in the onslaught of information as best he could. “Traditional.  Conservative, like the Essempis.”

“No one’s as conservative as the Essempis,” Lindsay countered with a huff. “But they do make a good bid for it, and we can’t let any of Sam’s powerbase slip away in the interim.” They bowed their head in a show of respect and apology. “I’m sorry for the battles your brother must face on our behalf.  If there was any way around it, we would do so, we just- we didn’t anticipate this.”

“I should have considered it,” Marquess Manifold said, his tone hard. “With everything that happened-”

“But what all happened?” Ant pressed, hands gripping hard on the edge of the table. “If you know-”

“Sometimes the greatest protection is offered in ignorance and shadows, Ant,” his grandfather interrupted, voice gentle but firm. “On that point, I cannot yield, but I can say… I can say that your father made a noble sacrifice to protect the empire as a whole, and while we cannot be sure that our opponents are entirely thwarted, they are at least stunned, and we will take as much advantage of that as we can.”

“On that front, you will have the Awe-Jone’s full support,” Lindsay pledged, pressing a fist against their chest.

Ant hated it.  He wanted to snarl, they clearly knew something- but it wouldn’t make Sam less dead, and if this helped-

Ant wanted to assist however he could.  Wanted to be more than a poor choice and a burden.

“For that, we are most grateful,” Marquess Manifold said. “I’m sorry, Ant, this conversation took a more trying turn than I anticipated.”

“Aw, you did your best bud, no worries,” Lindsay soothed before- “Good-good-love-support,” the offered in Bearer.

In. 

In Bearer.

In Bearer.

At once, Ant found himself leaning forward, hands braced against the arm of his chair, and though he’d heard other bearers speak in his presence before, he was a master at holding himself back, but this was his space and his pack and this was a loved packmate and-

“Hello!” he greeted, unable to stop the reflexive response. “Thank you, hello!”

Lindsay gasped, eyes going wide. “You’re like me!”

“You’re like me!” Ant countered, their enthusiasm contagious. “We’re- is this why-”

“It was one of the reasons,” the marquess said, seeming somewhat smug.

“Oh, baby, I get it,” Lindsay said, abandoning their chair so they could wrap themselves around Ant. “Being a bearer on the downlow is hard.  I understand – I live that life every time I come to the empire.  You can talk to me about it. I have been there; I know the struggle.”

“I just-” Ant cut himself off, floundering.  He’d never had another bearer to commiserate with before.  It had always been too dangerous, but Lindsay was family. “It’s hard.”

“Yeah it fucking is,” Lindsay agreed. “And I’m here for you whenever you need me, okay?  In fact, I insist upon regular meetings.  Pretty please?  Pretty please, my awesome nephew?”

“I thought- you’re Sam’s cousin.”

“But he loved Gavin like a brother, and I’ll love you like a son if you want it.” They said it easily, so easily it hurt, and Ant couldn’t allow him to trust it yet, but he-

He could have another packmate.  He could try for that much.

Chapter Text

Eventually, the inevitable could be put off for no longer.  When Ant was as recovered as his bout of depression would allow him to be, when he was cleared by his doctor and had a few snuggles from Lindsay (but not Josh, because they were both so busy, because he had to play as the grand decoy to buy the Awes time, and because Ant had indulged too long in being useless, even if his grandfather would argue that his activities may or may not have been the least useless things, assuming they were what Ant needed in that moment), he had to return to the battlefield that was the castle, though thankfully his presence was relegated to the most impenetrable of spaces.  

After a successful kidnapping and a near-death poisoning, the royal wing had become a veritable fortress, staffed by servants that had been employed by the crown for no less than five years.  With two pregnant bearers, access was even more brutally restricted than before, which was a comfort.  Ant had already cavorted about that space as one of the lucky exceptions, for all that he did not have his own room intentionally set aside for him, but Marquess Manifold had already been sure to outfit one of the rooms in the Manifold Suite as Ant's own, and despite the loss of Jack (Prime, Ant had barely gathered the strength to know him, had spent so long being jealous of the proper connection the small blaze hybrid had with Ant's baby), they'd been allowed to keep their quarters. 

Sam's space was still there as well, though untouched.  Marquess Manifold had ordered it to remain that way until Ant and Josh were- were ready to-

The Marquess used a different office for his Head of Infrastructure duties, thankfully.  The office that Ant had treasured for so long, that safe space where his pack was- that wouldn't be casually disturbed by strangers.  They could approach it with time, when they were ready.

Ant was unsure if that day would ever occur, but perhaps in a few years.  

There was no point dwelling on it now, not when he had an entirely new war ahead of him.  Plastering on his best smile, he met Puffy in the appointed location, the retired naval captain bearing a form of exhaustion that not even her chipper grin could mask.

"Is it bad, Puffy?" Ant asked, all anxieties thrown out the window. "Tell me-"

"There's a lot of uncertainty, and stemming the opportunists that would take advantage of such tragedies wears on me more than I would like to admit," she said, kind enough to give him an honest answer. "But that's not your concern. You focus on yourself, Ant, and the pups.  Doing this much- it's a great comfort to know that they'll be with someone trusted." 

Ant's throat hurt from the emotion he swallowed down, mind flitting back to the steps that had brought him here, that had made him a trusted person.  His grades had gotten him into the royal aide pool, and then he'd- 

Well, whatever was necessary to get where he needed to be, but it was far from respectable, and certainly not worth trusting.  Sam had only trusted him implicitly because he was a bearer, and protectors were weak towards those.  

It wasn't fair of him, he knew, to rewrite history.  Sam had made his commitment to them clear in a thousand ways, in a thousand different languages, but minimizing that-

Prime, Ant just needed to breathe. 

"I'll do my best," Ant said, his words a rough whisper. "But if there is anything else I can do- I used to be in the legal offices, you know." 

That was before Callahan.  Before the idea of sexual exploitation could not so much as brush against a protector's thought for fear of the wrath that would come down upon them.  

The Infrastructure Guild had been much kinder to Ant. 

"Top of your class, we know," Puffy said, giving him a soft grin. "Bad brags about it constantly."

"I- oh." Ant felt his face get hot and was both pleased and despaired to know that even after his bout with extreme sorrow that the useless torch he held for Bad could still blindside him at the least convenient moments. "Well, he's nothing to sniff at either."

"That is a nice way to put it," Puffy said, and that time when she smiled, she seemed to do so with her entire being, those warm crinkles forming at the sides of her eyes. "I'll keep your offer in mind, truly.  You're not forgotten in this, we just-" She shook her head as though to clear it. "We take no one for granted now. Life's too short."

Ant breathed in sharp, but his gaze did not warm with the familiar weight of tears.  The world kept turning, and so could he. "It is," he said, and with that, they moved forward, both in need of a distraction from the burdens life had thrown at them. 

When they drew closer to the royal playroom, sounds of soothing bearer purrs could be heard carrying down the hall, and it didn't take much for Ant to recognize both Lord Consort Wilbur and Duke Quackity's tones. 

"Puffy's going to be fine," he heard Lord Wilbur say as they drew closer, Puffy cracking the door open. "She just needs to focus on some of her other duties for a bit."

"When things quiet down, she can come back," Duke Quackity added. "And in the meantime, you'll have Ant.  You like Ant." 

"That doesn't- we already lost Papa Eret!" that was Prince Tommy's voice, and Ant could picture his wings giving an angry flap of indignation. "Why do we have to lose Puffy too?  That's not fair!" 

"Toms-" Lord Wilbur began, but then Puffy was pushing into the room, acting as the cavalry her military training had ingrained her to be, her innate nobility refusing to allow any of her allies to be left behind or flounder. 

"Good afternoon, your highnesses," Puffy greeted, offering a polite bow that Ant echoed, though he shifted deeper, as he was a commoner compared to Puffy's status as a viscountess. "I trust you slept well?"

For most, it would be a generous indication to move onward, to abandon past battles that had clearly been lost and try to recoup as best one could.  Unfortunately, they were dealing with politically un-savvy pups and as such, Prince Thomas could take no such hint. 

"Puffy, don't go!" Prince Tommy crooned, charging so he could wrap himself around her leg, staring up at the sheep hybrid with wide, wet eyes. "I promise I'll be really, really good.  I'll study and train and I- I won't knock my juice over- I'm sorry about that-"

"Tommy," Puffy interrupted, and his expression crumbled. "Sweetheart, I'm not leaving because you were bad.  I love being with you pups very much, but I'm needed elsewhere-"

"We need you!"

"And I-" Ant spoke up, surprised to earn the attention of all four young princes so easily, even Thomas who watched him with rapt attention, his bottom lip quivering as he tried to hold back his tears. "I need- I need to help you guys." 

He settled down into a crouch, terribly aware of the more experienced, lovely bearers that were just on the other side of the room. 

"I'm sorry all these things are changing," Ant said, trying to give each young prince an equal amount of attention. "It isn't fair.  You've lost a lot, and you shouldn't have to lose more, and I- I don't know the full weight of that," he admitted, pressing a hand to his chest. "But Sam- Duke Samuel, I mean, he was- he was my papa, and I lost him." They didn't interrupt him, which surprised him more than anything else, but he pressed the advantage while he had it. "It hurts, but I thought- I hoped we could hurt together as we try to go forward.  I wanted to help, and this was the only way I knew how.  Can I- would you help me?" 

"I'm sorry," Prince Tubbo said, crowding him on his left side. "I'm sorry you lost your papa, was he your only one?"

"Yeah," Ant said, the word shaky but true.

"I'm sorry," Prince Fundy added, dragging Prince Ranboo forward by his hand. "We'll help you." 

"We're great helpers!' And that was Prince Tommy crowding in between Tubbo and Ranboo. "If- if you need us and they need Puffy somewhere else, then- then it makes sense, but you can't- you're not allowed to die." 

Ant breathed in sharp, a smile pulling at his lips.  He hadn't known how much he needed that order until the tiny avian had given it to him, but now that it existed in the world, he knew he would do everything he could to uphold it. 

"Okay," Ant promised. "I'll do everything I can to keep that from happening." 

"Good," Prince Ranboo said, the word soft but determined. 

"If that's settled, why don't you four help me review your schedule with Ant?" Puffy asked, brightening up the room's energy, and while the 'planning session' that followed was disorganized and chaotic at best and grumpy at worst, it was still a wonderful change from the tears and anxiety that proceeded it and the longer it went on, the more at ease Ant became with his new duties.

"I'll have Ant shadow me these next few days before I pass things over," Puffy explained. "Now, go finish getting ready for class – I need clean hands and tucked in shirts, alright?" 

There was a chorus of 'Yes, Puffy!' before the pups scampered off, and Ant allowed himself to breathe again.  He was so relieved that he missed the additional company he'd managed to ignore through sheer force of will until they were right there and- well-

"You handled that well," Lord Wilbur said, his voice gentle as he stood hand-in-hand with Duke Quackity. 

"Thank you, your majesty," Ant said, offering him a proper bow.

"None of that," Duke Quackity huffed. "You're Bad's, and that makes you family."

"But more than that..." Lord Wilbur began, and Ant couldn't stop from tensing, preparing for whatever emotional blow might follow. "Any who knew Sam would recognize just how much he valued you and Josh, though I hadn't realized..."

"We never made it formal," Ant admitted. "But he was our papa just the same." 

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Lord Wilbur said, so genuine it struck Ant to his core. "Sam was- he was easy to love, once you knew him, and a great ally of mine." The bearer reached forward with his free hand, and at a loss, Ant reached forward, allowing the lord consort to take his hand. "From this point on, you have our protection, Ant.  If you are struggling, I want to know about it."

"No matter how big or little the problem may be," Duke Quackity added. 

"I do not wish to fail Sam more than I already have," Lord Wilbur sighed. "But that is- that's not the point.  You were Sam’s; therefore you are one of ours.  You're important, and we will fight for you."

"And Josh?" Ant prompted, because he couldn't not, not when it came to his baby.

"It goes without saying," Duke Quackity whispered. "The Manifolds will not be forgotten."

"The crown will not abandon them twice," Lord Wilbur added. "You have my word on that."

Ant didn't know if he could take it, but Ant handled it the same way he did everything else and kept to course, considering it just enough to keep moving forward, for to stop would be the end of him. 

"Then I am ever at your disposal," Ant said, wondering if they knew just how much he meant those words. "Thank you, your-"

"It's just Wilbur," the Lord Consort interrupted. "And just Quackity – you have earned that privilege a dozen times over."

Ant had not, but Sam had, and if they wanted to extend that courtesy in his memory, then who was Ant to deny them?

"Thank you," he simply repeated, knowing he was almost at his limit.

And yet, the day was still young, so he would push through it.

Just as he always did.

-:-

Minding the royal pups was as bewildering as it was satisfying, and part of Ant hated how contented he felt doing it, how a part of him that had remained mostly ignored had sprung to life with a dedicated fervor.  Bearers were built for communities, with special care paid towards the most vulnerable among them.  It was only natural for him to be drawn to pups, especially after ignoring them for so long for fear of giving himself away, but sometimes he unreasonably wished it came to him a little less easily.  He knew such a sentiment would confuse Sam because it was both irrational and spurned by emotion, which somehow, absurdly, made Ant feel less bad about having it. 

"We are not machines," Sam had said more than once. "We do not carry out the same function in perfect repetition without feeling, without getting worn down.  Our illogical responses are perhaps the most logical and inevitable development a hybrid can have.  It's what makes us alive."

"You could just say I'm being dumb," Ant had complained, two of Sam's handkerchiefs clenched in his fists because Marquess Manifold had been particularly brusque that day when collecting Josh, and it had made Ant's bearer instincts unreasonably upset.

"But you're not though?" the creeper hybrid had countered before passing over a cup of soothing tea.  It was the flavor that Duke Eret most favored, the one that most mistook as Sam's own preference – which it was, but only because the creeper hybrid was also terribly sentimental, as little as he would ever address it.  Sam carried parts of those he loved with him (for some reason, Duke Eret had fallen into that category – an old nostalgia, perhaps), and Ant and Josh had been no exception.  It was there in the tassels he added to the trim of his cloaks for Ant to play with, it was there in the fireproof coating of his gloves in case Josh's combustion core should act up.  It was in the cakes he always requested in case the grand marquess stopped by, it was in the couch with the ugly pillows he set aside for Lord Wilbur's usage.  

Sam had been so full of love he'd practically screamed it from the mountaintops for those who were wise enough to see it, and it burned Ant that in his passing most seemed to focus on Eret rather than the kindness that had been offered by Ant's papa. 

Ant loved his new job just as he'd feared, though his greater concern would always lie in how the shift in position would be perceived by others.  Granted, it was a grand show of trust for Ant to have the most vulnerable members of the royal flock under his care – it elevated him, and with Duchess Wastaken's help, that was surely how it would be perceived, but his more jealous peers, the ones that had attempted to nip at his heels all these years, he had no doubt that their gaze would turn cruel.  They'd say that Ant only got his position because of Sam, and now that Sam was out of the picture, Ant had been reassigned to a place where he could cause less damage.  How kind of the royal flock to give him a position that would protect his reputation – that's what the more clever ones would say, never outright condemning someone who had so many powerful allies – how kind, and at last, he had work that was suitable to his abilities. 

It didn't matter if he'd outperformed them a dozen times over, it only mattered that he'd shown a weakness, and now he couldn't- he didn't have the will to protect what he'd built up, and part of him felt like he was failing Sam in that regard, even if he knew without doubt that his papa would never hold it against him.

He only wanted Ant to be happy.  It was all he ever wanted for them; it was why he'd never pushed.

How could someone so wonderful be overlooked by the rest of the world? Once, that had pleased Ant, because he was let in on a secret few were permitted to know, but now that seemed like a selfish victory.  He should have been boosting Sam's reputation, he should have networked on his behalf – of the three of them, it was Ant that was the most charismatic, and he was a bearer, he should have-

But he hadn't, and it was done, so- right, babysitting. 

Thank Prime for the pups.  Thank Prime.  Even affected as they were, they were so full of life.  Of energy.  They had simple needs and desires and had bounced back from the loss of one of their fathers with the resilience of those still new to the world, for all that all of them had survived harsh conditions.  Each prince had their own therapy sessions they attended with some of Ponk's peers (he had a proper team now, considering the amount of nonsense they were going through), and while they were sometimes teary-eyed afterwards, they did seem to help.  Usually, one of their packmates attended those sessions with them, or Ant would watch through a sound-proof window, something that would allow the princes to see him and motion to him as needed, anything to feel safe.

Their most private living quarters had been violated by kidnappers – it would make sense for anxiety or fears to follow, and sometimes they did, but for the most part, the princes were- well, they enjoyed having a new nanny, especially since Ant had a tendency to indulge them.

"Look, you have to finish your salad wrap, that's non-negotiable," Ant said at their private lunch time. "But once you do- sure, you can have two cookies." 

"Ant's the best," Prince Tommy whispered to Prince Tubbo, the two of them sharing their chair.  Across the table, Fundy and Ranboo did the same thing, the enderman hybrid feeding his older brother a few berries with a pleased purr. 

Hell yeah, Ant was the best.  He was such a good defender of his little precious babies- 

And that was- that was the other thing he had to look out for, how easily his bearer instincts were set off, but if he'd made it this long without them conquering his life, then he could continue to push through them. 

Definitely.  Probably. 

It did not help that the princes were so very cute.  That they were such good brothers to each other.  It was honestly unfair. 

"Stay still, please," Fundy would say as he was carefully preening Tommy's wings, Tubbo and Ranboo giggling to each other as the small blaze hybrid combed the tuff at the end of Ranboo's tail. "I don't want to hurt you." 

"Sorry," Tommy huffed, stilling his efforts as best he could as he picked at some of the scale buildup on Tubbo's foot. "Thank you, thank you."

"Thanks-thanks-love," Fundy replied easily in Pup, and Ant just- he didn't know how Puffy got things done.  How anyone got things done when he wanted to sketch picture after picture to capture each precious moment in time.

But Ant had given up art long ago, finding a safe compromise in drafting, and besides, he had his own job to do, brushing Fundy's tail.  They would all be dapper gentlemen for dinner that night. 

"You know," Tommy spoke up suddenly, his gaze narrowed. "You're not going to be the boss forever.  Eventually, we'll get older and present too."

"Yeah, but that will happen after me," Fundy declared. “So for now, I am the boss.”

"That's right," Ant said, perking up. "Your birthday's coming up soon.  Are you excited?  It'll be your first one in the castle."

"I... I think it will be nice," Fundy said, his efforts slowing down somewhat. "But I wish everyone could be there." 

They fell into silence after that, Ant unable to argue as he thought about the future birthdays he would one day spend without his papa, without a surprise party that was literally never a surprise because it was exactly what Ant wanted, and it couldn't be that without a proper interrogation, because Sam would never want to do either Ant or Josh the disservice of making them feel obligated to feign happiness. 

"Me too," Ant said, blinking a stubborn heat from his eyes. "Me too."

The princes were easily the best part of his new job, but there were drawbacks.  Being their nanny meant being in the castle, meant interacting with people he hadn't necessarily been avoiding, but didn't know how to greet until the time was finally upon him.  No matter how friendly or fondly he may consider them, it was still- it could be hard.  And sudden.

As was the case with seeing Tina again.

Despite expecting it, Ant still hadn't been ready for it.  Foolish was in a state of deep mourning which had all but halted most of the Architect Guild's projects.  What was still in effect, Tina herself was overseeing, which meant she was a very busy cat indeed.  The last time Ant had seen her had been before Sam's trip (and how Josh had begged Sam to stay, and how Ant had wanted to join in – if he had, would his father be alive now? If only they'd pushed), when things were good, when they could be playful, when there was hope because the war was over and Manburg was conquered and everyone had come back home. 

It was such a different time, and a stark contrast to where they were now. 

"Oh." Tina blinked at him, the dark bags under her eyes safely explaining why she was in the senior staff lounge huddled possessively around the teapot, bypassing the pull string that would summon the on-call attendant and brewing up a pot of strong tea herself.  

Ant was there for similar reasons – even with a new purpose, he still wasn't sleeping well, too overrun with stress and frustration to be permitted easy rest.  Quackity had just collected the pups for surprise bonding time (though Ant suspected Quackity needed a distraction more than anything else), giving Ant the opportunity to refortify himself.  He could have called a cart up to the bearer's suite, but he didn't want to throw his weight around in such a way, give the impression that he thought himself deserving of such attention.  He had to know his place, though if he'd thought he'd run into company, he would have settled for having a power nap on the couch and called it a day. 

"...hey," Ant offered weakly, giving her an awkward wave as he moved forward.  He'd hesitated for too long, and it would look weird to leave now, even if that was what he wanted.  Not that- of all people, Tina wouldn't be cruel, it was just-

He couldn't be who he was before, he knew that.  He had no idea if he could ever truly wear that mask again, even if it was one of the few protections he had left. 

"’Hey’ back at you," Tina mumbled, rubbing at her eyes. "Heck of a few terrible weeks, am I right?"

Ant couldn't manage the effort to smile, but thankfully, Tina didn't seem to expect that from him. "Yeah."

"Prime," Tina breathed, shaking her head as she turned back towards the kettle. "You must be really bad if you don't have any smart comments."

Of course he was, he'd lost- but she already knew that.  Maybe she was just trying to rile him up, get him to act more alive, but he didn't have the energy for it.  

They lingered in awkward silence for a few moments, each staring at the kettle.  Tina had her hands tucked into her sleeves, arms folded across her chest in a semblance of a hug, as though attempting to soothe herself.  He couldn't imagine how stressed she was managing the Architect's Guild as well as an extremely distraught and depressed peacekeeper whenever Foolish did show his face, but based on her appearance, the battles were frequent and difficult.  

The kettle began whistling, and Tina removed it, pouring the hot water into a teapot already equipped with an infuser filled with tea leaves.  Ant watched the act in silence, finding comfort in the basic function of it all, in the silence.

Of course, they could not stay at such a peaceful standstill.

"I'm sorry," Tina spoke up suddenly, staring at the pot. "About your dad, I mean.  I'm sorry for your loss."

Tina, much like Ant, was an orphan, though she'd had a grandfather to guide her through life.  He'd passed when she was in secondary school, but she understood that sort of loss.  Knew the weight of it.

Despite how much he liked Tina, and how sincere he knew her words to be, they still hurt.  Perhaps this was what he'd wanted to avoid, for all that it was kind.  For all that she acknowledged the importance Sam had in his life. 

"Thanks," Ant said, his voice rough. 

He took in a breath, floundering on how to continue, then didn't.  He just- he didn't have it in him. 

"It sucks," Tina continued, unbothered by his lack of elaboration. "It all- it all sucks right now, doesn't it?  I mean- Jack-" She inhaled sharply, rubbing at her eyes again, though this time, he doubted it was from exhaustion. "What the fuck did he do to deserve such a thing?  And the castle- if he wasn't safe here-"

"They could have taken Josh too," Ant said, a weight that had been sitting heavily on his shoulders. "He was right there.  They could have grabbed him and George."

His baby could have been stolen just like that, and Ant didn't know if Josh would have been able to help Jack with the explosion or not, didn't know if he would have been wearing a restrictor bracelet or collar of some kind – it didn't matter because Josh was still here and not there, for all that Ant had not seen him for more than a few passing moments since Sam had died.  It was a wonderful bounty, and he couldn't even appreciate it, not when he'd only burden his baby. 

Josh had been Jack's baby too, and now he was dead, just like Sam was dead. 

"George isn't in the castle anymore," Tina whispered, staring at the teapot as though it held the keys to the universe. "Bad was real sad about it."

Bad.  Skeppy.  Ant's chest throbbed at the very thought of them.  He hadn't seen much more of them than he had Josh, had been so distracted by his own- but it wasn't like they'd want to see him anyway, especially with the rumors going around- the ones that were unfortunately far too close to the truth for Ant's comfort.

Perhaps this distance would do them well.

"His royal highness," Ant corrected, his voice soft. "We may be in private..."

"But not really," Tina finished with a sigh. "It's still an adjustment."

"I know." Ant had met Bad in secondary school, the Nether Refugee stunning the capital's medical scene with his knowledge of alternative medical treatments.  He'd been immediately sponsored and brought up by the Wastakens until he'd achieved his barony, though it wasn't anything he was comfortable talking about.  Ant himself only knew that much by being in the right place at the right time.  

It was no surprise that Bad had been hired into the pool of royal doctors considering his progressive research, and as they were all of similar age, the talented and fortunate young adult assistants in the castle had bonded together as friends.  Even now, it was hard to picture Bad as the future emperor, even if he would look rather dashing-

"Is he- is he doing okay?" Tina asked, her voice tentative for some reason.

"I haven't really spoken with his royal highness lately," Ant admitted. 

He saw Bad sometimes at mealtimes, when Ant stayed to help the royal pups if their parents were occupied elsewhere, but for the most part, Bad was holding back with Skeppy and Sapnap, seeming to make an effort to mentally regroup from the trials life had thrust upon them in the privacy of his suite.  Ant no longer had a papa to beg visits to the space on Ant's behalf.  Bad and Skeppy had been too shy to do it before, and back then Ant had simply assumed they were adjusting to their new titles, but perhaps it had only been pity that had kept him in their orbit. 

Pity they no longer held in excess. 

Tina turned to him, her brows furrowed in interest. "Is that because of you or them?" The question hit like a physical blow, for all that Ant had been too stunned to respond to it, and in the next moment, Tina was shaking her head. "Sorry, that was- Prime, I'm not good at talking now, am I?  We're all struggling.  I'm sure you guys will fall back together soon.  You always do." 

It had been such a certainty before, and if Ant came out as a bearer, he knew it wouldn't be difficult at all to gain their interest or attention, but that was not how he desired their company, but there was no need to feel depressed over such things.  They were all busy, they'd all been dealt a difficult blow-

Jack had shared their bed so many nights, after all.  Even if there had been no romantic connection between the three of them, the fact was, the bearer had a solid place in their lives, they had felt protective of him, and now he was dead. 

Ant could fill the void, but he was no one's replacement.  Sam had helped him build up the confidence for that much, and he would cling to it desperately with all the fervor he could muster. 

"Thanks," Ant said, because Tina had ultimately offered him kindness. "Are you alright?"

"Fuck no, I'm not," was Tina's immediate reply, but she was smiling, and it helped, however little. "But it can't get much worse, right?"

It was an uncomfortable question.  It could definitely get worse, but he understood the sentiment.  The passing of time would lessen the pain, allow it to transition into apathy, which was all they could hope for.

"You could pretend, you know," Tina said, a sad smile pulling at her lips. "Indulge me a little."

Ant swallowed hard. "I'm sorry.  It seems I'm not much good at talking either, nowadays." 

He couldn't imagine those that were – genuinely, truly.  Not those that faked it well, but those who were sincere in their ability to thrive.  Of course not everyone was close with Jack, Eret, and Sam, but they had been imbedded in huge chunks of the empire's power structure – so many should be feeling the loss, and if they weren't, they were opportunists. 

Ant could think of more than one person who was pleased with Sam's passing, perceiving their lack of promotions as targeted slights against them.  As though Sam would ever do such an action out of spite alone.  It was no matter, Marquess- Ant's grandfather wouldn't tolerate incompetence any more than Sam had.  Grandpa would read Sam's notes and fill in the voids with those that actually warranted the effort, and that would be that.

Ant couldn't be among them, but no one had held that against him, not yet.

Tina's head fell back with a groan. "Fuck," she grumbled, rubbing at her eyes. "Wanna eat cookies with me until we can feel something again?"

"I don't think we have enough cookies for that," Ant allowed, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a grin. "But Sam always did emphasize the importance of teatime." 

"Emphasize, but never followed it himself," Tina said, releasing a quiet cackle. "That one time you realized he'd been working three days straight – you were so mad." 

"And he knew I'd be too," Ant muttered, folding his arms across his chest as he felt the anger claim him once more. "That dummy – he scattered his work at different locations so I wouldn't catch on, then had the audacity to be surprised when Josh and I were bothered by it." 

"He's a lot like Foolish, that way," Tina said, her smile becoming a little less painful. "They just assume that no one would care, but of course we do."

"...of course we did," Ant corrected, because he couldn't- he couldn't bury himself in good memories alone, denying the present.  He had to accept reality for what it was, no matter how much it hurt him.

The grin fell from Tina's face. "You did," she said, her voice gentle. "And that counts for a lot, Ant.  He loved you so much."

Ant wanted to snarl at her.  She only saw a fraction of their interactions – how could she know – but even with the limited view that she'd been permitted, she was resolute enough not to doubt her words.  To say them without fear, and with every measure of confidence.  That was how firm Sam had been with his care, and Tina had been smart enough to understand the love Sam poured out to those with which he could permit that level of involvement. 

"Thanks," Ant murmured, hand pressed against his chest to steady himself.  He wondered if the pain would ever truly fade, but knew that it was a sentiment born from dramatics alone rather than real world application. 

He was relieved from having to continue his response by someone entering the breakroom, and considering that the senior staff that was permitted access to the space had been significantly limited, their new company could only be a handful of people, some of which Ant was not entirely ready to see. 

And yet, Skeppy was there anyway, so much like everything else, he would have to find a way to shoulder on. 

"Hey, Skeppy," Tina greeted with a wag of her fingers. "Need an almost-quiet space where you could worry about Sapnap?"

"Got it in one," Skeppy said, a familiar grin slipping onto his features.  It was the one he wore in public, and it hurt, that Ant both knew him well enough to recognize that, or that he couldn't figure out who it was between himself and Tina that Skeppy felt the need to put on a mask for. "I can't handle being alone with my thoughts, but I've already hit my training quota for the day.  Anymore and Techno will have my hide."

"Then please, come eat cookies and drink over-brewed tea with us," Tina said, motioning towards the refreshments as she began to pour them cups. "We can all be uncomfortable together." 

That got Skeppy's expression to follow. "Is it that bad? With Foolish-"

"It's been better," Tina interrupted, forcing a cup and saucer into his hand. "But that's not what we're focusing on.  Ant?" She held up his cup. "Lots of cream, lots of honey – perhaps a splash of tea for fun?"

"That would be nice," Ant managed to make himself say, following the golem hybrid over towards the gaggle of armchairs by the fireplace.  Tina had them outfitted with drinks and a plate piled with cookies in short order, not that they did much other than nibble at them. 

Skeppy cleared his throat. "The pups really seem to like you, Ant," he said, adopting a smile that seemed a bit more genuine. "You're doing great work with them."

"Thanks," Ant said, and somehow despite all the damage his life had incurred to that point, his pathetic heart found the effort to flutter at the compliment, as though Skeppy had ever been shy about handing them out.  "It's a comforting change of pace." 

"I'm glad you guys could help each other," Skeppy said, the honesty flowing over Ant's shoulders like a soothing balm. "And it was smart- clever, I mean, to use your situation to bond with them." 

Just like that, whatever comfort Ant had found in Skeppy's words vanished, leaving him tense and cold as he tried not to jump to the worst conclusion. 

This wasn't a common, classist gossip monger, desperate for intrigue and uncaring for who they may destroy in the meantime, this was Skeppy – his friend. 

"What do you mean?" There was no small amount of accusation in Tina's tone when she cut in, her brows furrowed in an angry slant. 

"You know," Skeppy began, shoulders tense and gaze flicking off to the side, and usually when he wanted to play it nonchalant he could do it with little effort, but when it came to those who knew him he seemed to lose every ounce of finesse he had in that regard, and as such, his efforts were clear. "They lost a dad, you lost a... a daddy." 

Yes? That was what Ant had said, he didn't understand why Skeppy would act so skittish over it.  Ant knew that he'd never come forth and explained that much in detail to Bad and Skeppy, but surely through all his stories it must have been obvious-

Tina inhaled sharply, her pupils narrowed into angry slits, and Ant realized that he had missed something.

They lost a dad, he lost a daddy, it was the same statement twice-

But Skeppy had been deliberate with his wordage.  It meant different things, and at once, the multiple connotations for what 'daddy' could imply seemed to hit Ant all at once. 

A lover.  Skeppy thought- thought that Ant had been- 

"Get the fuck out of here," Tina hissed as Ant began to tremble at the immensity at it all, left in a state of shock entirely rendered from confusion.  No, Skeppy wouldn't think that.  Skeppy wouldn't- "Get the fuck out, get the fuck out, get the fuck out." 

"What the hell, Tina?" Skeppy was on his feet and backing away in a moment, a hissing cat hybrid warding him back towards the door, and any other day it might be humorous because Tina was so much slighter than him, but now Ant only felt- "It's an open secret-"

"You're dumb as a rock and you need to get your brain examined," Tina snapped. "Who else have you told that drivel to?"

"No one!" Skeppy's hands were held up in defense.

"Keep it that way," Tina snarled. "Now get out."

"You can't banish me-"

"Get out!" Tina screamed, grabbing up the nearest vase and throwing it near Skeppy's feet.  The golem hybrid jumped aside, startled, then turned his wide eyes onto Ant, who just-

He didn't know how he looked. Blood thundered in his ears, humiliation swamping his chest like an unyielding thing.  His eyes were beginning to blur, stinging in a sort of mockery, the air not coming fast enough because this was- it was a rejection, to be thought so lowly by someone he held dear.

Fuck, his chest hurt.  He couldn't breathe.  He was going to scream. 

"Get out!" Tina snarled again, and that time Skeppy left, stumbling over his feet, and Ant just- he couldn't- he couldn't-

She slammed the door shut and he yowled, the sound strangled around a sob as he felt his heart shatter even more thoroughly than before.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he heard Tina say, moving to wrap herself around him, as though she could protect him from the world like a shield. "I'm sorry, I didn't know he was that stupid-"

She kept talking, but all Ant could do was cry, his bearer instincts bereft at the disregard of one of his important protectors, and he didn't know what to do other than let himself fall apart.

So that was what he did.

Chapter Text

So maybe Skeppy hadn't been sleeping that well.  

To be fair to him, a lot had been going on.  Things had been changing nonstop for a while; the situation exacerbated the moment Sapnap had been formally acknowledged by the royal pack as one of their pups.  Bad and Skeppy – they'd talked about it, of course.  Skeppy had been so sure that they wouldn't- and then they had, which meant Bad and Skeppy had to plan.

"Just because they claimed Sappy doesn't mean that they'll want me too," Bad had said when they received the news. "They are pack, but it would make more sense to leave me out as the head of the Halo Barony.  Perhaps our house will be a bit quieter, but I'm happy for Sapnap, truly."

He'd meant it too, despite the sad smiles they were both wearing, but they'd prepared themselves for that inevitable blow.

And then Lord Consort Eret was inviting Bad to a private meeting where he was deemed the crown prince rather than Wilbur, and neither one of them had really known what to do with that information.  

Proposing had been obvious, inevitable.  Skeppy was always going to propose and Bad was always going to say yes, but maybe Skeppy had expedited things so he would have grounds to stay more frequently in the royal wing.  It had been at Bad's encouragement – not that the Nether Demon knew when Skeppy had the ring ready, of course.  Just like that, Skeppy was part of the gang, which meant he was part of the tragedies too, part of the battles, the struggles, the wars.  Jack fighting through his trauma, Duke Quackity doing the same.  Political turmoil and unrest – prisoners escaping, wars starting, so many poisonings, comas, Sapnap going off to war, Sapnap coming back from war engaged, of all damn things, a claimed second, and then subsequently rejected by the one he'd fought so hard to obtain, and then one of Bad's new parental figures had died along with Ant's Sam, and everyone was sad and everything was hard and Skeppy was constantly keeping an eye out for another political attack.  It was stupid, now he had to wonder if his full schedule was a result of the accumulated calamities or if someone was just messing with him, wishing for his demise. 

And now George was awake but wouldn't talk to them, and Sapnap was in a state of perpetual distress, which left Bad in a state of perpetual distress (though he’d already seemed distressed and wouldn’t talk about it- but just- who wasn’t worried nowadays), and Skeppy couldn't seem to help either of them, and he hated the sense of helplessness that devolved from that.  As much as he loved his new, extended family, as much purpose as they gave him, as much as they fed into his inherent social battery that demanded constant attention, sometimes Skeppy wished for the easier days when he only had to care about maybe seven people total, and all of them were adults who were more than capable of managing their own emotional burdens.  He missed that, and he- the young pups were a gift, and Skeppy definitely wanted kids of his own someday, but they were also their own bundle of trauma, and that got hard to manage sometimes, especially when Skeppy felt like he got shoved in as a pitch-hitting parent more and more frequently. 

It was just hard, and he was tired and spent and wrought with guilt because he felt like he had failed Jack even though he hadn't, and Bad was strangely distant sometimes, and Sapnap was worse off than when he'd been pining over the ignored royal claiming in the first place, and Skeppy just- he had no more spoons to spare.

So maybe he had said something he should not have.  In hindsight, it wasn't appropriate to touch on the relationship Ant and Duke Sam had shared together – they'd kept it private for a reason, after all – and this was far from the time to- just, the timing was terrible, really terrible on Skeppy’s part.  But maybe Ant's extreme moping had hit Skeppy in a tender place, and all those times the cat hybrid had gone on and on about Sam this and Sam that, proudly showing off the gifts he had earned, disregarding any sort of basic decorum and just- knowing that his lover would take care of it, maybe that sort of got to Skeppy.

Because he understood, Ant was an orphan like they were.  Ant wasn't a noble, he'd built himself up on his own, of course he would seek out any means to higher grounds that he could manage, especially if those means treated him well.  That he had overcome the biologically ingrained repulsion creeper hybrids felt towards cat hybrids in itself was a show of great effort and character – really, Skeppy should have applauded him, but instead he'd been a tactless dick. 

Ant had lost his sugar daddy, someone he obviously cared about a great deal.  Skeppy had no right to shove his jealousness in the peacekeeper's face, especially when he knew that Ant would never be emotionally available to him.  Perhaps to Bad, who the cat hybrid had bonded with in secondary school, each at the top of their respective classes, but Skeppy and Ant had attended the same academy as scholarship students and had never crossed paths once.  Considering what Skeppy had to do to survive back then, he couldn't say he entirely minded the slight.  After all, he had cut a rather pathetic image. 

But that was no reason to lash out, though he hadn't expected Tina to start yelling at him, or to throw a vase, and now he was frozen in the hallway, confused and weary, with no idea what he should do next.  Should he wave down a maid?  He could always pretend he'd broken the vase on accident, but then maybe rumors would spread about Bad's clumsy fiancé, and that would be yet another reason why they shouldn't marry, yet another reason why anyone but Skeppy would be better off with Bad.

Skeppy sighed, running a hand through his hair.  He should get a maid. 

"Precious?" a voice prompted, exercising that extreme care they all used with each other nowadays, though Skeppy had been attempting to put up a strong front to avoid the others wasting such efforts on him.  He didn't deserve it as much as they did.  He turned to find the two piglin hybrids of the castle staring at him, Wilbur using Techno's arm for support as they watched Skeppy with furrowed brows. "Is something wrong?"

So many things, but most of them they couldn't fix, so they weren't worth mentioning, except- "Could you say you broke a vase?" Skeppy asked, his voice scratchy as he scanned the hall for eavesdroppers.  There were none, but it never hurt to be careful. "I don't think anyone would get mad at you if you broke it."

"Did you break a vase?" Wilbur asked, his brows furrowing deeper.

"No, Tina did," Skeppy replied with a shrug. "I said something I shouldn't have and she threw it at me." 

In hindsight, Skeppy probably would have thrown a vase at himself too.  Talk about tactless. 

"I feel like there's more to this story than you're letting on," Techno said gently. "What happened?" 

Skeppy was an asshole, but what else was new?

“I was… I don’t know,” Skeppy admitted, despairing for himself.  He was so tired. 

The two piglin hybrids shared a look, and Wilbur broke away from Techno, walking past Skeppy to enter the senior break room Skeppy had been uselessly hovering near, unable to make himself leave despite the fact that he knew any apologies he had to offer wouldn’t be well received in that moment.  The look on Ant’s face- he’d been so crushed, and of course he had, Skeppy had betrayed him, had been a shitty friend when he should have been supportive – Prime, how would Skeppy have felt if Bad had died?  He doubted he would even be able to function, let alone handle the royal pups with the same care and obvious love that Ant did.

He owed the cat hybrid so many apologies.  Ant didn’t have to accept them – and Skeppy’s chest twisted at the thought that he might not – but Skeppy had to at least try.

The door opened, and out leaked a sound of pointed despair in Feline, sobs mixed with croons that hit Skeppy like a knife to the chest.  That was Ant- Skeppy had done that to Ant, and Tina was trying to comfort him, and it was so very awful- just the fucking worst- and then Wilbur was inside, shutting the door behind him.

Tears burned in Skeppy’s eyes.

Why was he so terrible?  Or- he could do better, he would do better, he could control that, he just wished these low moments of immense stress and exhaustion didn’t bring out the worst in him.

“Skeppy.” Techno was suddenly there, an arm wrapped around Skeppy’s shoulders, tucking the golem hybrid against his side.  The piglin hybrid’s heat was a welcome thing – after years with Bad and Sapnap, Skeppy had come to associate the warmth of Nether Hybrids with home and comfort, and Techno was no exception to this. “What happened, pup?”

Skeppy didn’t deserve his care.  He didn’t- it was always difficult when interacting with the older members of Bad’s pack.  Skeppy had gone his entire life without a proper guardian.  The closest he had was his sponsor back at the academy, and that was a mutually-beneficial arrangement.  Skeppy got a solid education and stable, high paying employment, and his sponsor got to exploit him for the entirety of the time Skeppy was under her thumb.  It was only fair.  Securing a place as a royal guard had made his reputation all but untouchable, and then he’d fallen in love with a genius baron, and life had moved on.  Skeppy just- he wasn’t going to have what the royal pups had, he understood that, but then they’d do things like this, and call him precious, and it just hurt so much.

“I was dumb,” Skeppy rasped, knowing he owed Ant that much. “I shouldn’t have- shouldn’t have commented on his lover’s death.”

Techno was too restrained to ever tense, but Skeppy had been around him long enough to perceive the piglin hybrid’s equivalent of such things, the air shifting slightly. “He lost someone in the war?”

“After the fact,” Skeppy sniffed.  He wouldn’t rub at his eyes though.  He wouldn’t cry, not when he’d brought this on himself.

Sometimes he wondered if he’d just been like, a redstone golem or something, maybe he would have gotten picked up by an engineering enthusiast.  Maybe Duke Samuel would have sponsored him, and Skeppy knew from the way the duke had treated Josh that he would have left Skeppy alone, and then maybe he would have been able to make friends at the academy.  Maybe he would have been able to work up the courage to talk to the cute cat hybrid that was always at the library.

Maybe.

“Duke- Duke Samuel,” Skeppy whispered, unable to make his voice raise higher than that out of shame.  He’d said it before though, which such casual disregard, he could say it again now. “He-”

Techno made an odd sound, causing Skeppy’s words to die off. 

That was- that was his strained embarrassment sound.  Which Skeppy supposed was warranted.  He had made a proper ass of himself, and now that Techno knew that-

“Skeppy,” Techno began, his voice a tight wheeze. “They didn’t- that wasn’t their relationship.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Skeppy sniffed, giving into the urge to rub at his eyes since apparently he was going to cry despite his best efforts. “I won’t talk about it from now on.  I shouldn’t have mentioned it at all.”

“Right, yes- that’s good,” Techno said, releasing a few supportive rumbles.  Despite Skeppy explaining what he’d done, and hearing Ant’s despairful breakdown.  He was still- “But that really wasn’t- I’ve known Sam for a while.”

“You have?” That was the first Skeppy had heard of it.

“He commissioned me for odd jobs, back in the day,” Techno allowed, nodding in confirmation. “And Ant is- was, important to him, but important in the way that Josh was important to him.”

Skeppy felt time slow, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

Had Josh also been Sam’s lover?  Prime, had he been sleeping with-

“Ant was his pup,” Techno said, his words cutting in with a ruthless effectiveness. “Sam treated them like sons, and Ant considered Sam his papa.”

At first, the words refused to be processed in Skeppy’s mind.  They went so firmly against everything Skeppy believed to be irrefutable facts.  Of course they were sleeping together, but-

But Duke Samuel never seemed to care about that sort of stuff, and Skeppy had just assumed that he was very good at acting, but the Secretary of Infrastructure had always been painfully straightforward, always been so respectful to Jack.  At first, Skeppy had thought that the duke was getting close for less-than-honorable reasons, but he never found excuses to engage with the blaze hybrid, always letting Jack come to him, and he’d never made any seemingly inappropriate overtures towards Ant either.  He’d been entirely respectful, and Skeppy had assumed it was the creeper hybrid’s heightened intellect that allowed him to be more restrained and disciplined for that stuff, but maybe that had just- it had never been his intention at all.

Suddenly, every story Ant had shared, every griped exasperation, every gift and consideration – Skeppy reviewed them in a new light, and it- it fit, and Ant had even said it himself, that Duke Samuel had been like a papa to him.  His papa.

Oh fuck, no wonder Ant was so upset, Skeppy had just accused him of unethical secret liaisons with his father figure when he had outright told them what his relationship with Sam had been.

“I’m an idiot,” Skeppy said, despairing for himself. “I have to talk to him.”

Techno sighed. “Maybe now’s not the time-”

“No, I- Techno,” Skeppy said, and he really should call him his majesty or whatever, but he just couldn’t- “He doesn’t have to forgive me, but he needs to know.  That’s all, and-”

He had no more arguments, so he ducked away, wiggling out of Techno’s hold and making a beeline for the door with a desperate fervor.  It would probably go badly, but it couldn’t be much worse than it already was, so he threw his all into it, bracing himself for the weight of Ant’s despair.

“Pup,” Techno began, a warning in his tone, but Skeppy paid no heed, despite how naturally intimidating and authoritative Techno was, his instincts naturally prone to deferment to the older protector who had earned his respect a dozen times over the past- had it not even been a year yet?  It seemed absurd for Skeppy to trust someone so quickly, especially considering all he’d gone through with older protectors that had authority over him in the past.  But he did, and he also trusted that Techno wouldn’t hurt him.  It was enough to prompt his desperate run forward unheeded as he tried to put together his thoughts. 

In the grand scheme of things, Skeppy knew that he wasn’t held in the highest esteem in Ant’s world.  Ant was more Bad’s friend than his own – the two of them bonding through their joint intellect and excellence in their respective fields.  Skeppy was more of a passing amusement, and in Ant’s world, an unfortunate two-for-one deal when it came to Bad.  Skeppy doubted that they would have spent time together otherwise.  Sometimes he had trouble believing that Bad wanted him, and were it not for the way that the Nether Demon clung to him at night, as though terrified that Skeppy might somehow slip away, the golem hybrid might doubt it.  It was a perpetual thought that hounded at the heels of his self-worth, the fact that he was abandoned as a pup, but it wasn’t as though his story was in any way unique.  Bad and Ant had gone through the same thing as well, faced the same trials and came out stronger.  They’d blossomed in their own way while Skeppy had just fought to keep his head above water.

Skeppy’s inadequacy was no reason to lash out, just because he hadn’t been able to provide for Ant in the way that Duke Samuel had.  The desire had always been there, and not because Bad didn’t need him in that way.  While he may be a peacekeeper, Bad was Netherborn, and a Netherborn peacekeeper was roughly equivocal to an Overworld Protector.  It was no question that Skeppy would be Bad’s second the moment they made things official. Physically, the peacekeeper was more than capable of looking after himself and Sapnap — it was the emotional concerns where Skeppy could most greatly aid, and there was nothing wrong with that.  And Skeppy wasn’t some kind of insecure, knothead protector who desperately needed someone to be subservient to him, that he needed to have some kind of pack authority over.  He was happy being Bad’s second, it was a privilege to know that he was cared for so strongly.  That Bad shared his baby with Skeppy – that meant everything.  

Sometimes Skeppy missed the simpler times from before.  Missed when it was just the three of them in the house that Bad had fought so hard to earn.  The Nether Demon always got a bit odd when they talked about it though, too shy and humble for his own good, so Skeppy had learned not to broach the subject directly, praising his partner in other ways to show his pride and appreciation.  He liked doing that for Bad, and part of him – the greedy part that hadn’t learned, the one that was unjustly prompted by his success – wanted that with Ant too.  He wanted to support Ant, to care for him, provide for him.  It felt instinctual in a way that terrified him.  Skeppy hadn’t worked up the courage to broach the subject with Bad before the Consort Trials.  It hadn’t seemed as important then, or it was, but they’d had so much time.  There didn’t seem to be a deadline, or even a point when Duke Samuel was alive.  There was no reason to address it, and then things had gotten crazy and now Duke Samuel was dead an Skeppy had the audacity to- to be a shit about it. 

He wasn’t any more prepared for the sounds of Feline distress when he pulled the door open, though the stream of Bearer purrs from Wilbur helped steady Skeppy’s hand somewhat.  The lithe piglin hybrid was perched on the arm of Ant’s chair, wrapped around him while the cat hybrid crooned into his hands.  Tina was on his other side, looking fraught in a way that normally eluded her carefree disposition, and the sight of such obvious grief, prompted by his actions and his actions alone, brought Skeppy to a jarred halt. 

He needed to talk to Ant, but was now the time?  If he was really kind, should he simply leave the brunette be? It felt like there were so few right answers nowadays, and Skeppy didn’t know what to do with any of it.  So much of his life was faking it until he made it and only getting through about half the time – at least, emotionally.  He put up a strong front, but at the end of the day he was hopelessly flawed and he knew that. 

A firm hand gripped onto his shoulder, and he turned to find Techno looking down on him with an expression of sympathy.  The older protector held his gaze for a moment, letting Skeppy adjust, then leaned forward, bumping their foreheads together in a light headbutt, the way he so often did with the younger pups. 

It was a simple motion, and yet, it prompted an intense heat to build in Skeppy’s gaze. 

He released a low rumble. “It does not have to be now,” Techno murmured. “You know what was wrong, you know what needs to be said, but it does not have to be now.”

It didn’t, but backing down felt like the coward’s way out, and Skeppy had taken the path of least resistance far too many times in his life.  When the noble recruiter had come looking for prospects at the orphanage, after Skeppy had finally started presenting his golem traits.

A diamond – one of the rarest and most exulted types of golem hybrids.  A wonderful rarity.

His nightmare.

But that didn’t matter.  Taking the easy way out didn’t matter, he didn’t matter – Ant did.

Skeppy swallowed hard, then leaned forward so he could return Techno’s headbutt.  It was not something he often allowed himself, not wanting his heart to desire something that was never in his reach to have, and still, Techno met him each and every time.

“Thanks,” he murmured, leaving off any additional titles his instincts might have desired before he restrengthened himself. 

With that, he turned back towards Ant.  Techno didn’t try to stop him when he moved out from under the piglin hybrid’s hand. 

Ant had quieted down somewhat, though he was still crooning, intermixed with quiet yowls that Wilbur made no effort to shush, simply letting Ant work through them.  On the peacekeeper’s other side Tina tensed, sending an exhausted glare Skeppy’s way.  As it was entirely justified, Skeppy did nothing to combat the response, simply falling to his knees before Ant, showing as much deference and care as possible – the very same deference and care he should have exercised before. 

“Ant,” he began, words rasped.  It was quiet, and yet Ant tensed immediately, his ears pressing back flat against his head. 

Which was- yeah, Skeppy deserved that. He waited for the cat hybrid to look at him, and although he had tried to brace himself as much as possible, he’d been in no way prepared for the wary sorrow on Ant’s face.  It was something Skeppy never wanted to see aimed his way ever again, though if that was the case, he would have to put in the damn work for it.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m so sorry,” he began, because above all else, it needed to be said. “I was jealous, and tired, and stupid, but that is- that’s no reason to lash out at you.  I- I care about you so much, and I know this didn’t show it, but I’m going to do better.  Even if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, when we do run into each other, I will do better, because you deserve that.  Not just because you’re someone I care about, or because you’re a Manifold or work for the royal flock, but because that is the inherent respect and honor you deserve.” He ducked his head, attempting to discreetly rub at his eyes and not quite succeeding.  Still, like most other things, it was the best he could do. “I’m sorry you lost your papa,” he said, the words rough and breathy. “I- I wasn’t fair to him before-” Making snap judgements that Ant had hounded him for, but a bearer had been on the line, a bearer that had already suffered so much, and Skeppy couldn’t contribute to more of his pain, not if it could be helped. “But he was a good man, and it was clear that he cared for you dearly.” 

He bowed his head again, though this time it was deeper, Skeppy setting his hands against the floor in a full show of surrender.  It was something he had promised himself he’d never do once he escaped the immediate reach of his old sponsor, but for Ant, it was worth it. 

“I have questioned your honor and besmirched your name, and now – before our ruling leaders – I pledge to-”

“Skeppy.”

It was just one word, a quiet thing, offered in the softest of whispers.  And yet, it was enough to jerk Skeppy upright, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as a sudden surge of adrenaline soared through his body.  The only reason he dared to look at Ant was on reflex, and when he did so, he was met with the same sorrow he had heard before, but the wounded nature of his expression seemed to soften.

Ant reached forward, and Skeppy didn’t hesitate to meet him halfway, allowing the cat hybrid to claim his hands in his own. 

They weren’t as smooth as they used to be.  Ant’s hands were rough from when he assisted Josh and Sam on their builds.  Part of Skeppy resented that, wanted to bother Bad for lotions that might ease the worst of it away despite how very much else’s he had going on. 

Ant squeezed his fingers, and Skeppy swore he could feel his heart in his throat. 

“I’m sorry,” Ant said, in the most mind-boggling, unpredictable response there ever could be. “I forget sometimes that you don’t have parents.” 

Skeppy flinched despite himself, heat intensifying in his eyes, but this was- he deserved this, he deserved this, so he wasn’t going to flinch or whine about it. 

“You’re just so gregarious-”

“I know,” Skeppy interrupted, the words coming as a rasp. “I- I know.”

‘I had to be’ hung in the air, not as an accusation, but simply as an unfortunate and unavoidable development of life.  He had to be in order to make up for what he did not have.  He had to make a statement so he would not be forgotten, so he wouldn’t slip through the cracks, because without Bad and Sapnap, Skeppy wouldn’t have anyone to fight for him other than himself. 

There was a low rumble from behind him, and with a start, Skeppy realized that Techno was also kneeling, hovering almost around Skeppy, as though acting as a shield between the golem hybrid and the rest of the world. 

“What do you mean?” Techno asked, seeming genuinely confused. “You have many parents now.” 

Skeppy’s chest tightened, a cool streak sliding down his spine as his stomach dropped at the idea of having to put it into words-

But then Ant was speaking up for him. “You guys are Bad’s parents.  When Skeppy marries him, you’ll be his in-laws, but he doesn’t have a family that’s strictly his own.” 

It hurt so much more when it was put out loud, though it was an unavoidable truth. The royal family needed to know what they were acquiring in Skeppy – someone who had no true political influence-

“Oh,” Techno said, blinking as he processed that. “That’s easily fixed.  No, eagerly- that’s eagerly fixed,” he corrected, as though this distinction were of the utmost importance. “It’s something I’ve been considering for a while, though I didn’t want to complicate things, but you’re right.” He turned the full weight of his attention onto Skeppy, who had no idea what to do with it. “Skeppy, you are a bright, loyal, and hardworking individual, and I respect and care for you dearly.  It’s not something you have to agree to now-”

“He does,” Ant cut in, sparkles seeming to be in his eyes. “He does; he does, your majesty.”

“None of that now,” Techno said with a huff, though his cheeks darkened in a flush. 

“I don’t understand,” Skeppy admitted, knowing that in this company, he would not be punished for his ignorance. 

“I’d like to adopt you as a Blade,” Techno said, easing into a warm smile.

They were words that Skeppy may have dreamed about hearing in his more fanciful moments in the way he’d dreamed of hearing them from any of the adult figures in his life that he cherished.  How he’d wished to maybe hear it from Wilbur first, after seeing how much he cared for Prince Thomas – how dutiful and overflowing with love he was despite the lack of blood between them.  And then when Bad had officially become one of the royal flock, the yearning had morphed.  How cool would it be to be claimed as one of Duke Quackity’s babies – but he had Jack and Jack needed him far more than Skeppy, and then there was Duke Eret– but he soothed George in a way that few others could manage, George needed the duke and Lord Foolish, and Philza was never an option, he already had four young pups to look after and Skeppy wouldn’t steal the attention Sapnap so clearly needed, and then there was Techno.

But Techno didn’t need someone like Skeppy, not when he already had Connor.  The two were so alike, often carrying out entire conversations with nothing but a handful of expressions and discreet hand signals, everything passed in silence.  Techno had picked Connor up when he was a young pup, raising the hedgehog hybrid to be his apprentice, and the two had similar dispositions that simply worked together. 

But Skeppy was nothing like that.  He was nothing like either of them. 

“You can’t,” Skeppy said, his objective an immediate thing.  Through the immense and varied extreme responses doing battle in his mind, that one blared the loudest. “I’m not…”

Enough.  Few were as larger than life as Techno, but Connor managed it in his own way.  He didn’t have to be huge and intimidating to be terrifying, but Skeppy couldn’t be like that.  He hadn’t even been able to detect when he was being intentionally sabotaged.  He was sure Connor would have. And he would have known if Jack was getting hurt too.  If Techno adopted Skeppy, he would be the weak link among the Blades, and perhaps his old sponsor would start to demand even more of him – it had been easy enough to send back diamonds when Skeppy had gotten to a place of safety with a steady supply of food that allowed him to produce them in a steady flow, but that was when Skeppy was a commoner.  She’d already asked for more when she had learned that Skeppy was a royal guard, if he was a Blade too-

He wanted it, but that didn’t mean it was the right thing to do.  Listening to his emotions rather than logic was what had gotten them here in the first place.  He needed to be sensible. 

Techno’s expression was unreadable, closed off into a sort of polite neutrality he used when approaching difficult situations – usually ones that involved Jack.  “Why couldn’t I, if I want it, and so do you?”

Skeppy’s throat ached with the weight of the cries he could not release, tears burning in his gaze. “I’m a liability,” he said, terror gripping at this chest.  He was a liability to Bad too, he was just sort of hoping that maybe his sponsor would die before they ever ascended into any kind of real power. “I’m not smart like you. I have to be-”

Flexible and obedient and amendable.  Diamond golems were special beings, much like bearers, their rarity made them social creatures, and depriving them of that outlet was akin to one of the cruelest tortures anyone could receive. 

Skeppy would know, he had been subjected to it many a time.

Skeppy couldn’t make himself say it though, too overwhelmed with shame even if Techno gave him ample time to put it into words.  The piglin hybrid watched him carefully, and soon he would see it was useless, that this was a waste of time-

“Could I hold you, pup?” Techno asked, his words a gentle rumble. 

Skeppy should say no.  He should-

But he couldn’t stop eagerly shifting forward until Techno could pull him into his lap, allowing the golem hybrid to curl up in the shelter of his frame with the same ease the older protector had with Jack.

Prime, Skeppy had been such a terrible stand-in protector for Jack.  The thought really made him sick sometimes. 

“You’re perfectly smart,” Techno murmured, tucking Skeppy’s head carefully beneath his chin. “And even if you weren’t, that would not make you undeserving of family.  And as for being a liability…” He trailed off, seeming to waver over something, then cleared his throat. “I did some research into Ebony Essempi.” 

Skeppy froze, eyes widening at the name of his sponsor, the one he dared not use, the one he was to keep off his lowly lips. 

“She has a somewhat profitable side business selling diamond jewelry of unparalleled quality,” Techno continued, rubbing a gentle pattern against Skeppy’s back. “She does not release pieces often, but when she does, they are in absurdly high demand, often fetching prices in the hundreds of thousands of gold.” 

Skeppy felt nauseas, wasn’t sure if he kept breathing, for all that he felt safe in Techno’s arms. 

“I looked into her because she sponsored you through the academy,” Techno said. “Admittedly, I did not look deeper than that because of everything that’s been going on, and that is my folly.  Skeppy,” he shifted, but only so he could look down at the younger protector. “Have you been supplying her with those diamonds?  Was that the price she demanded in exchange for her sponsorship?” 

For a moment, Skeppy couldn’t breathe, and then the tears he had been so stubbornly trying to fight off slid down his cheeks, a broken sound spilling from his mouth before he buried his face against Techno’s chest out of shame. 

He wanted to hide, he felt so dumb, so small- and of course he was, of course he was. 

Through it all, he managed to stutter out a response. “Sh-Sh-She’s an ‘ss-ssem-pi,” he managed. “You can’t- how do you- you fight an- Essem-pi?”

There was a pause, and then Techno released a rumble so firm in happily buzzed through Skeppy’s bones.  It left him floating in his instincts for a moment, but when he came back, Techno had tucked him back under his chin again, holding Skeppy close, as though he were something precious. 

“With a sharp blade,” Techno said, his words full of promise.

Skeppy scarcely had time to process those words before another presence joined them, Ant climbing into Techno’s lap and hugging onto Skeppy as though his life depended on it. 

“I’m so sorry, Skeppy,” he urged, as though it were in any way his fault. “That’s- that’s bullshit, and you didn’t deserve it-”

“I was an asshole to you,” Skeppy pointed out, because he didn’t want the thing that sparked this conversation to be forgotten just because he’d been exploited for like, fifteen years or whatever.

“And you’re forgiven – because of your nice speech, not because of this,” Ant clarified. “May I keep hugging you? I want to keep hugging you.” 

A tearful cry spilled from Skeppy’s throat at the candor, something that made his instincts so very pleased. “Yes, please,” he managed, keeping the answer short to mitigate any gushing on his part. 

This was quite a whirlwind of an afternoon.

“We’re going to take care of it,” Techno pledged, his words firm and unyielding. “That isn’t conditional to whether you become a Blade or not, but please know that this doesn’t change either mine or Connor’s desire to have you as part of our sounder.”

Skeppy paused. “You talked to Connor about it?”

He had thought it was a spur of the moment decision on Techno’s part perhaps a bit dressed up with pretty words to cushion the blow for Skeppy’s sake, but the idea that it was premeditated, a discussion- 

Techno gave him a few confused blinks. “Of course,” he said, like it was obvious. “You fit well with us.” 

“Explain,” Ant demanded, seeming to know what Skeppy needed in an intensely embarrassing way, and yet there was nothing but warmth that blossomed in his chest at the cat hybrid’s thoughtfulness. 

“Um- yes,” Techno said, seeming to approach it with the seriousness with which he might contemplate any of his war missions. “Connor and I- we’re not the most easily sociable creatures, as you can tell, but you are.  You fill needs that we don’t know how to approach with each other.  You’re loyal and a good fighter and hardworking – and those are all classic Blade traits, of course, but more than that, you help keep us connected to those outside the pack.  You bring joy, Skeppy, and while we perhaps felt like an insufficient reward for such character – I’m sure if we asked any of the other royal pack, they’d want to adopt you too-”

“I want- papa,” Skeppy interrupted, the word feeling right in a way that made him want to cry. “Papa, Papa.”

“Pup,” Techno said, hugging both Ant and Skeppy close. “You’re not alone anymore, sweetheart.  Your battles are mine, and I do not lose wars.”

“Heck no, you don’t,” Ant agreed with a giggle, a pleased smile pulling at his lips. “I’m glad you got a papa, Skeppy.” 

Skeppy could only sob in response, because Ant had lost his and Skeppy had somehow achieved what he thought was impossible, but Techno and Ant seemed to sense this conflict in him and countered it with purrs and rumbles, offering him support he could never ask for while Wilbur and Tina purred from the side. 

“I love you; I love you, pup,” Techno murmured against his hair. “Your jewels are your own, and I will fight so you can give them to only those you desire.” 

It was the way it was supposed to be with golem hybrids.  They shed their jewels when they were ready and made things for those they cherished – to earn a golem’s favor was to show that you were an outstanding individual in society.  Skeppy hadn’t been allowed that part of his heritage and much like everything else, had given up dreaming for such a thing.

But now it was here, and he had a family, and he had his friend, and things were bad, but they could maybe be better. 

“Okay,” Skeppy said, dazed. “And we- we can take care of Ant too, right?  He’s important.”

“Of course,” Techno said, a smile in his voice. “I wouldn’t think of doing anything less.”

With all the most important issues addressed, Skeppy dropped the issue, suddenly exhausted.  For now, he would embrace what he had while he had it.  They’d go from there, after that, but he had Ant in his arms and a papa guarding over him – he could indulge for a few moments longer.

Chapter Text

Time had not allowed Skeppy to process things the way he thought it would.  He was still in a state of shock, despite the delivery of clothing that had made its way to his suite, all featuring the Blade Family crest.  Techno had pledged to get the ball rolling on Skeppy’s adoption immediately and had kept his word despite the chaos that had overtaken the castle as of late.  For a moment Skeppy felt terrible about it – Techno already had so many other things on his plate – with George out of the castle and Lord Foolish still reeling from Lord Eret's loss, with two pregnant bearers and an uneasy noble class, he shouldn't be focusing on Skeppy's small issues.  They were down two of the major duchies, with the appointed heirs doing everything they could to provide support, though it seemed to be a constant struggle.  Even Skeppy knew how much Duke Samuel had valued Josh (for all that he'd been unable to recognize that same affection when aimed at Ant) – decreeing the blaze hybrid as his heir over a distant packmate made sense to the golem hybrid, but it also made sense for the Awe family to object it.  Still, Josh fought on admirably with Ant by his side, and that was- that was the important problem.  Not Skeppy's loneliness.

Despite this, he couldn't fight the hint of satisfaction in his chest when he donned those special clothes for the first time, hugging the high-quality material to his chest.  He'd been gifted plenty of expensive garments since Sapnap and Bad had received their new titles – thoughtful things intended for him to blend in, so Bad's worth and taste wouldn't be brought into question.  He hadn't minded them – had liked them, of course, the way he liked any gift, but these were- the colors that aligned him with Techno, that marked him as belonging – he cherished that more than he could admit. 

He wondered what Jack would have thought had he been allowed to see it.  Skeppy could imagine his pleased coos now, his little chant of happy-happy-happy in Blaze.  Imagined how he'd grip Skeppy's hands and spin him in a circle, eyes shining with moisture because he'd be just so thrilled for the golem hybrid. 

He missed Jack so much.  Not as much as Sapnap or George or Dream did, not as much as Duke Quackity or Techno, but Skeppy just- he missed the wounded little brother that had stumbled into Skeppy's life.  Of course Skeppy loved Sappers, but Sapnap belonged to Bad long before Skeppy had a claim to him, but Jack was- for Jack, they'd been on even footing, and Skeppy had relished that.  Relished the additional time he'd been allowed to spend with Jack as his temporary protector during the war, and maybe it had caused him to throw his weight around a bit too much, but that was his baby, and now Jack was gone.

In a way, it seemed fitting, even if Skeppy knew it had nothing to do with him personally.  That it was the actions of a few deplorable people that had dramatically altered the course of an innocent family's life.  But when he was feeling more dramatic and whimsical, he blamed himself.  It didn't help anything, least of all him, but it made enough sense to allow him to move on. 

Connor had visited the day after the adoption, appearing in Skeppy and Bad's shared room like the ghost that he was, as though he'd always been there. "Hey," he greeted with a weak flap of his hand. "I can't stay away from George long, but I wanted to welcome you to the pack.  I'm glad that you're here." 

"Oh- thanks," Skeppy said, readjusting to the sudden company after he'd assumed he was alone. "I- George-"

"He's happy for you too," Connor said, passing over a letter. "But he's busy just... trying to keep his head above water."

"I understand," Skeppy said.  Prime, did he relate to that. "Could you wait for me to write a response?"

That earned a small grin pulling at the corner of the hedgehog hybrid's mouth, which was as much of a victory as anything else. "Of course." 

Skeppy didn't mention Sapnap or Dream or Jack – he kept the exchange solely related on himself and George, offering what support he could to the young duke, giving his sympathy and his love.  When his next batch of diamonds was ready to shed, he would make something for the estranged Essempi.  He and Ant, Skeppy would prioritize them, a gesture to speak the words he didn't know how to say. 

"Thanks," Skeppy said when he was finished, sealing the letter with the fancy Blade stamp that had appeared the same day as the clothes. "For everything."

For thinking of him.  For giving him a chance. Skeppy didn't have enough time in the world to adequately express his gratitude. 

Connor gave him a strange look. "You did the heavy lifting," he said with a shrug, tucking the letter away. "Thanks for being yourself, we're lucky to have you."

Connor, much like Techno, did not say things he did not mean.  Thankfully, he turned away before he could catch Skeppy's look of overwhelmed joy, making his exit just as quickly as he'd come.  Later, Skeppy would find the Blade signet ring resting on his desk, the one that gave him access to all their funds.

'He's going to spoil you,' a note in Connor's handwriting said. 'Better clear out a spot for your hoard, you'll be getting a lot of presents soon.'

Presents.  Presents from someone other than Bad and Sappy and Ant.  Presents for Skeppy after he'd already been given so much.  

He tried not to think of it, simply enjoying what he had, but not too much when Sapnap was around.  The young blaze hybrid was still hurting, which naturally brought down Bad's mood.  Skeppy did his best to support them, to be an adequate second to the alpha that had chosen him. 

Still, there was no way to hide news of the adoption entirely.

Sapnap was actually the first person to notice it, the blaze hybrid blinking up from the shelter of Bad's chest when Skeppy entered the room, the two of them cuddling on the couch. "You look like a baby Techno," he said, obviously trying to lift the mood.  Then he blinked, squinting. "Wait, is that-"

"Yeah, it's his crest," Skeppy said, looking away as he crossed to their side, kneeling down next to them. "Techno claimed me as a Blade."

"That's so effing cool," Sapnap said without a hint of sarcasm.  If anything, there was awe in his tone. "Skeppy, that's great.  Techno's such a good dad."

Skeppy felt his face get hot. "Yeah, he- he is, and they'd even- he and Connor had talked about it." 

"Aw, fuck yeah," Sapnap said, understanding the full implications of it all and eagerly turning so he could hug onto Skeppy. "That's so great. That's awesome, Skeppy, you deserve the coolest dad." 

"You deserve the coolest everything," Skeppy countered. "And we're going to fight to give it to you, okay?" 

Sapnap was still smiling, but it dimmed a little, even if he seemed to valiantly fight to keep it in place. "Let's focus on you for now, with perhaps some celebratory cake?"

He aimed a hopeful look at Bad, who sighed. "Fine, we can break our diet because it's a special occasion, but we can't make it a recurring thing."

"Wouldn't want to set a bad example for the pups!" Sapnap agreed, sitting up properly so he could summon the servants. 

Maybe there would be an adoption party later, but probably not, but it didn't really matter.  Skeppy had what he wanted.

"I'm really happy for you, Skeppy," Bad said, sitting up and patting the couch beside him.  He wrapped an arm around Skeppy when the protector eagerly settled in. "I didn't know that was happening."

"It was kind of sudden," Skeppy admitted.  Bad should have been the first person to know, but they'd both been so busy, not always sleeping in the same place or together-

It was hard, when their bed held memories of Jack's warmth.  They'd switched to a different room after his loss, but more often than not they passed out in different places.  Bad usually in his office, and Skeppy on a random couch.  At least, when they weren't comforting Sapnap.  Sometimes Skeppy feared they were drifting apart.  Then he feared that if he put too much effort in, he might come off as desperate.  He didn't know what the right balance was, and Bad was getting more and more difficult to read nowadays. 

"Are you mad?" Skeppy asked, wincing the moment he finished voicing the question.  Prime, needy wasn't any better than being desperate, but he always got so mixed up when it came to Bad.

The Nether Demon tensed, eyes widening. "No, of course not."

"I know he's your dad-"

"Philza's my dad more than anything else," Bad interrupted, his voice gentle. "And I have always been happy to share my pack with you, and always will be.  It's not- they're our pack, Skeppy, because you've always been a part of this."

"Oh." It wasn't the most articulate response, but he just- Bad always knew the right thing to say. 

"You didn't feel like you were, though," Bad continued, his voice still so gentle.

Skeppy swallowed hard. "It was easier before." 

Because they'd all been outsiders.  They'd all built themselves up.  And then suddenly Bad was a crown prince and it got so much harder, and Skeppy tried not to complain about that, already knowing how stressed it made Bad, but he couldn't- he had to be honest.  They'd promised.

And Skeppy- he hadn't been honest about everything, he couldn't, but he could do this much. 

"I'm sorry," Bad said, his voice rough, and this was- it was exactly what Skeppy had been trying to avoid.  He turned to properly hug his partner, a wash of self-loathing shooting through his chest when he saw the tears in his partner’s eyes. "You've been hurting-"

"We've all been hurting," Skeppy interrupted. "We've all been doing our best to get by.  And this was- it was an old hurt.  I thought I was over it." 

But he wasn't, and Bad's expression seemed to understand that. 

"You're so happy," Bad whispered. "This made you so happy and I'm so glad for that." 

"Aw, Bad." Skeppy's chest flourished with warmth, with love as he hugged his partner tight. 

He loved Bad, he loved him so much and was so lucky to be with him.  Skeppy could scarcely ask for anything more, not when he already had so much.

He had everything he needed. 

"Sir Skeppy Blade," Bad giggled whenever he pulled away. "What a dashing knight I get to marry." 

"Not as dashing as the doctor I get to hang on my arm," Skeppy boasted.  There were other questions that lingered on his lips 'Are we okay?' and 'Are you alright?' and 'Do you miss me as much as I miss you?' and 'Will we get through this?', but Skeppy didn't ask any of them.  He couldn't ruin the moment.  

They would take it one thing at a time, and besides, Skeppy didn't need words to get by, not when he had actions.  Those were what mattered most, after all. 

"Yeah, a doctor," Bad murmured, seemingly to himself, and maybe Skeppy should ask, should prompt-

But Sapanp would be back with the cake soon, and things were good, so Skeppy left it at that. 

-:-

It wasn't like Skeppy did a complete one eighty in personality, because he'd always been Skeppy, but it seemed like their confrontation was enough for him to realize that Ant was properly in the castle again and receptive to company, and the protector wanted to make the most of that.  Of course, he always checked in with Ant first – either sending a note or asking him beforehand. 

"You can always say if you need space," Skeppy had explained the first time he did this. "But I just- it's crazy out there, and they've cut down my duties anyway, and I thought maybe this would be nice." Skeppy had been in somewhat of an awkward limbo space when he'd gotten engaged to Bad that had led to his guard hours being cut, Skeppy all but retiring as a knight when he stepped into prince-adjacent duties during the war that had transitioned into solely pack-focused responsibilities by the end of it. 

After the political attack against him, they'd minimized his public appearances to only the most necessary, which was now further restricted by the bulk of the royal flock pulling back.  They were relying on their allies now to pacify the upper nobility – Ant didn't know if it was a good thing or not, but with two pregnant bearers and a mess of distraught pups, it made sense.  They'd bought themselves some time with Schlatt's public trial and the conquering of Manburg, they would likely make a full recovery with the baby showers, and then that would be that.  Life would go on, and Bad and Skeppy would get married, and then his guard duties would be a thing of the past, his days consumed with public appearances and information acquisition. 

Until then though Skeppy, much like the rest of them, was trying to keep occupied, likely to avoid being trapped in his emotions for too long, which was something Ant could relate to all too well.  Perhaps he should be distancing himself from the golem hybrid in order to protect his stupid feelings, but Ant could only be so smart.

"This isn't a guilt thing," Skeppy had rushed to assure when Ant might have hesitated. "I'm just- I'm glad that you're back in the castle, and I'd like to spend time with you." He wagged his brows at Ant. "It helps that I might also get to play with the younger pups sometimes too." 

"Alright, then," Ant had agreed with a laugh, his bearer sensibilities incapable of denying someone he cared about access to pups, especially when they were trusted and respectable, great influences for the pups under his care. "I'd love the free labor- I mean, company." 

"Of course," Skeppy giggled, and it was like they were in the easier times from before when they gathered around the Halo's kitchen table to play cards, the two of them laughing up a storm while Sapnap pouted at them for not taking the game seriously enough.

They couldn't go back to then, but they could stay together now.  It was something. 

Skeppy couldn't stay with him all the time, obviously, but he did make a habit to pop in once a day, assisting Ant with meals or corralling the young pups for class or getting them changed for dinner at night. 

"I don't get why we have to do this," Tubbo complained while Ant smoothed down the front of his tunic, the new heat-resistant fabric doing a lovely job of reflecting the flames that occasionally danced in his hair. "It's silly. Who cares if we go to dinner in sweaty clothes?" 

"Your mums will care," Ant replied, a tried but true strategy to shut down that particular argument. "They like it when you're not smelly." 

"Hah, you're wrong!" Tommy declared with a triumphant flap of his wings, pointing his finger in Ant's direction while Skeppy tried to wrestle the rest of his tunic into cooperating.  Beyond them, Fundy and Ranboo were being perfect little gentlemen, straightening out their clothes with little issue, though Ant knew that was more of a habit engrained from necessity rather than the normal independence expected from a pup their age. "Mum loves it when we smell!" 

"When you're giving off your natural pup scents, sure," Ant allowed, because he could agree those scents were pretty great, though he knew he was biased as a bearer. "But not when you've got that major sweat stink.  That's a good time for no one." 

"Fine," Tubbo agreed with a put upon huff, slumping in Ant's hold. "But it's still dumb.  We get baths after dinner anyway.  Why dirty two sets of clothes before then?"

"Because sometimes nobles are silly," Ant said, entirely understanding the blaze hybrid’s confusion – understanding all of their confusion, come to think of it, as Tommy was the only one raised to be a noble. "Not everyone has the same options as you do, which means sometimes you have to dirty two sets of clothes just to show off how powerful you are.  The servants get paid the same either way, and it isn't causing intentional or excessive problems, so there's no harm to it." 

"There could be for other things, though," Skeppy warned. "So don't throw your weight around needlessly."

"You have to be thoughtful about it," Ant advised, simplifying the explanation of political power dynamics as much as he could. "Like with this." 

"Nobles are silly," was what Tubbo got from that, which was fair enough for Ant, though he'd have to make sure not to repeat that where others outside the pack could hear them.

There was a tug on Ant's wrist as they prepared to go to dinner, and there was Ranboo patiently waiting for Ant's attention, offering up his hand hopefully.

Ant could admit, there was a strong chance that Ranboo was his favorite.

He shouldn't have favorites, of course, and he strove to give each of the princes equal attention, but there was something about Ranboo that was just- easy.  Instinctual, which was weird, as Ant didn't have a hint of enderman genetics in him to allow for such a thing, but he was past the point of questioning it.  Maybe they just connected as introverts, or something. 

"Hey, 'boo," Ant greeted, taking the prince's hand in his own. "Are you ready for dinner?" 

"Yes, please," Ranboo said, always so polite, and with that, the four of them were off.

Ant didn't always stay for dinner, but when he did, he just about always had Ranboo either next to or in his lap.  All the princes tended to be claimed by adults though – it was simply an additional comfort they needed during this trying period, so no comments needed to be made on it.  

Skeppy helped with all kinds of things – assisting Ant in bedtime routines and bath time when the adult pack members needed space or were busy elsewhere.  They read stories, kept order through tailoring sessions, and monitored class sessions.  It was dangerously close to having a protector of his own, but Ant hadn't officially claimed one of those since Sam-

Josh was his baby, and busy besides.  And it wasn't like Ant needed a protector anyway, he'd gotten by just fine on his own for years.  A terrible part of Ant was grateful that Dream had gotten trapped in his instincts, if only because that distracted Duke Wastaken – the only other person who knew his second sex – from approaching him about a substitute the way he otherwise might.  Ant was fine alone, but it was nice having Skeppy around.  Nice, and maybe dangerous, but that was why he kept his focus on work, limiting their engagements outside it to meals or snacks that could be shared with Tina.  Ant would reach out to Bad, but the Nether Dmeon was so busy it just-

He missed his friend, but Bad had to focus on his little brother.  He would reach out to Ant in time, probably. 

"I'm glad they get to start early," Skeppy murmured as they oversaw one of the young princes’ etiquette classes. "It's so much harder to learn that stuff when you're older.  At least it will be second nature for them." 

"Whenever they feel like holding the fork right, that is," Ant murmured, watching as Tubbo and Tommy had a miniature sword fight with their silverware, their assigned teacher watching on with a look of pained despair. 

"Hey, we're all finding silver linings where we can," Skeppy said with a shrug, a smile in his voice. "They'll get there in time."

But for now, they'd let them have this.  Ant agreed with the protector’s assessment of course, his bearer instincts pleased with Skeppy's judgement, and he had to swallow down a purr of approval.  Even if it could be waved away as Feline, there was no need to tempt fate. 

"At least Fundy's working hard," Skeppy continued, motioning towards the small fox hybrid. "He's got that big bro determination going on."

Ant swallowed a laugh.  Out of all the young princes, Fundy was the one who took his training the most seriously.  Ant could tell that as the eldest, he wanted to do everything he could to help the rest of his pack, to set an example for the younger princes, and it warmed Ant’s heart to see such efforts every time, the bearer sure to make confirm that Fundy's work was acknowledged the way it should be. 

"It is quite admirable," he said, knowing that he would have been working just as hard if given the opportunity at that age. 

"It's also very cute." 

"Yes, I hope Techno sketches some pictures of it," Ant said, trying not to think back on the art books Sam had never gotten to fill. "It would be very..."

He trailed off, brows pinched with concern as he watched the head teacher give Fundy a correction that didn't look quite right. 

In fact, it was oddly similar to-

"Very what?" Skeppy prompted. 

Ant's stomach dropped. "I have to- excuse me," he said, walking into the lesson space properly, only somewhat conscious of Skeppy at his heels. 

Ant knew that correction, knew that etiquette because that was what had been taught to him as well at the academy – it was something that Sam had to train out of him when Ant had started working at the castle, because it wasn't quite correct.  It almost was, but it wasn't.  In fact, Fundy had been doing the exact right thing before, but now he was doing that slightly off version all because the teacher had told him to.

Thunder rushed in Ant's ears. He looked and Ranboo and found the prince doing the correct move without receiving any sort of chastisement.  Did that make it secluded to just Fundy himself? 

He felt sick, but he tried to stay calm. He wasn't just representing himself, after all.

"Excuse me?" he said, getting the head teacher's attention. "I think you might have been mistaken about his spoon placement." 

Fundy, who had been working away so diligently, startled, his eyes going wide and ears dropping at the thought of doing something wrong.  The teacher, whom Ant hadn't really given much thought to before this point, regarded the cat hybrid with narrowed eyes that just barely concealed his disgust.

Oh, he was one of those elitists. 

"I have done my duty and instructed his royal highness on proper etiquette," the teacher said snidely, turning towards one of his assistants. "Don't you agree?"

The assistant looked over – a flicker of a glance – and nodded, which meant they knew- they knew what was happening, and they didn't care. The head teacher adopted a smarmy grin. "There, are you satisfied, Mister Ant?" 

He would never be satisfied with this, but that didn't really matter.  He was a bearer and these were pups under his care.  What happened next was a natural escalation of those facts.

He motioned towards the guards. "Take all the teachers to the holding cells, please," he said, and surprise of all surprises, they followed his orders just like Puffy said they would, taking the protesting teachers away without so much as a word. 

Ant tried to steady his breathing, his inner bearer furious at the pain the pups could have suffered had he not caught this. 

"So uh- guess etiquette class was canceled for today!" Skeppy cut in cheerfully, not understanding what was going on but providing admirable backup regardless, which Ant just- couldn’t focus on in that moment. "Who wants to eat everything with their hands?"

"Why- why did you do that?" Fundy asked Ant, undeterred by Skeppy's attempt at distraction. "What was wrong with the spoon?" 

Ant crouched down, trying to refocus.  Now that the initial threat was dealt with, he had to handle the emotional fallout, but he was literally made for this. 

"Nothing, not really," he answered honestly. "You did a great job the first time, but they were trying to make you second guess that because they are very, very dumb, and because I don't like dumb people, I sent them away – now." He popped back up. "Let's go to the playground for a bit, shall we?  We could have a nap out in the sun afterwards, that's much more fun than class." 

"Fundy deserves it," Tubbo agreed. "For having to deal with dumb people."

"Yeah, go Ant!" Tommy agreed. "You protected us!  Thank you!" 

He got a chorus of similar thanks that his emotions didn't know what to do with, so he just led them out into the sun and let them run wild, hoping their thirst for freedom would distract them from everything that happened.

All the while, Skeppy had been eerily silent. "There was more to it than a spoon, wasn't there?"

"Yeah," Ant said, his voice rough as he thought back on the engrained injustices that still ran rampant in this world.

"I'm sorry," Skeppy said, as honest as always. "Could- could I hold your hand?"

Ant startled, but-

It had never really been a doubt how he would respond.

"Please," he said like the greedy thing that he was, and Skeppy wasn't his protector, would never be his, but it was grounding, having those fingers locked in his own.

It couldn't be enough, but for Ant, it would do.

-:-

"Your majesties may not be familiar with this, but there are two types of etiquette taught at the academy," Ant explained, looking firm and strong as he ran through his thought process for the events that had taken place that afternoon.  To Skeppy, he looked like a general, knowledgeable and prepared to instruct his underlings.  There wasn't a hint of the fear that had crept into Ant's gaze earlier, of the slight tremble in his hands when Skeppy had twined their fingers together, his protector instincts demanding that he act as a point of stability. "This is not a publicized thing," he explained to the royal protectors who were intimidating in their own right – their pregnant partners already down for the night, cuddling their pups, Foolish tasked with guarding over them until the protectors could retire for the evening. "It's more of an unofficial rule. There are two types of etiquette taught – one a proper reinforcement for those that had already been given an introductory into etiquette, and one specifically catered to scholarship students.  These etiquettes were taught separately as scholarship students didn't have the same foundation as other students – this was what allowed the two etiquettes to safely coexist without anyone catching on." 

"I don't entirely understand," Philza admitted, leaning into Techno's side. "There are two classes, yes, but they're supposed to teach the same etiquette."

"They're supposed to, yes," Ant agreed. "But they don't." 

Puffy, who had elected to join them for this meeting, released a string of Peacekeeping purrs that helped settle the avian before he could get worked up. 

Ant cleared his throat. "The scholarship students are taught a slightly adapted version of traditional noble etiquette.  Not something that's obviously wrong, but with enough minor differences that someone who had been trained the proper way would be able to discern that the scholarship students hadn't been groomed since birth.  That they had learned the etiquette when they were older."

"A way to pick out the scholarship students beyond school," Techno surmised, putting the dots together before anyone else. 

"Yes." Ant's expression was grave when he said this. "It is a way for the old nobility to keep up and comers separate from them, to ruin their first impressions and prevent too much advancement.  The changes- they aren't wrong, they aren't even things that most people would think about.  A spoon kept at a slight angle, a knife used in a slightly different stroke – it's nothing, but it adds up to mark a distinct difference.  To- to mark them as unworthy in their eyes." 

Philza released a low curse. "All those efforts Jordan made to eliminate the class barrier, and they still find a way to keep people down."

"Yes, they are rather proud of it," Ant allowed. "I myself wouldn't have been able to detect the difference had papa-" He cut off with a sharp inhale, the first sign of wavering he'd demonstrated that day, and took a moment to steady himself. "He pushed, because they- it seemed like it wasn't the most comfortable way for me to um- hold my fork.  So he asked, and I told him, and no one- I cannot speak for every scholarship student, but I did not want to be the odd one out.  It needed to be second nature so I would never be judged, so I practiced until it came to me without thought exactly as it was taught to me."

"They likely felt the same way," Techno murmured, his gaze sympathetic. 

Skeppy swallowed hard, his stomach roiling.  He'd learned that wrong method too, after all, but his sponsor had cared more about his diamonds that the way he carried himself in public.  No one had followed up on his etiquette training, and when he'd met Bad, he'd picked up the Nether etiquette that the Nether Demon had been taught at a young age.  It had been close enough to the normal noble etiquette that no one had ever commented on it. 

"Fundy was being taught the scholarship etiquette," Ant continued. "None of the other pups were, only Fundy.  When asked, he said that his teacher had insisted it was the proper way for fox hybrids to behave."

"That piece of shit," Philza snarled, jumping to his feet. "What kind of backwards – we have hybridist workers in this castle?" 

"A lot has happened, Phil, it's hard to catch everything," Puffy cut in, holding her hands up in a placating manner. "But we caught it now."

"But how many more anti-fox workers do we have?" Phil asked, shaking his head before she could reply. "Never mind." He motioned towards his assistant. "Do a full investigation of the staff, see if there are any other unseemly opinions lingering among them.  And send a message to- shit." He cut off with a sigh, seeming to deflate. "Clara, George, and Wilbur all have their hands full.  They're normally the ones I'd go to for subtle widescale social reinforcements to sway public opinion away from superstitious nonsense." 

"I- I'm a little confused," Skeppy admitted, not wanting to cut in, but he just- he didn't get what was happening. 

Techno gave him a sympathetic look. "There are some individuals out there who hold unfounded unsavory opinions about hybrids of a certain type," he explained. "Like how cat hybrids with black fur could be bad luck, or snake hybrids are inherently evil, or how fox hybrids are terrible tricksters who shouldn't be trusted.  Stupid nonsense like that." 

That was- Skeppy had only ever met individuals who were either entirely anti or pro hybrid.  He hadn't realized that there could be people out there who hated specific types of hybrids for literally no reason. 

"It goes beyond Nether hybrids or Overworld hybrids," Techno continued. "It's specific common hybrids that are targeted due to old folk tales, and it shouldn't be a problem, but people can be dumb, so here we are." 

"They don't even know him," Ant said, gaze welling with tears as he choked the words out. "And they were teaching him the wrong method anyway, all because of- what? His ears? His tail?  It's stupid." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold everything back, but failed. "He's so sweet and hardworking- they don't know him at all, and they thought that would be okay.  That it was- warranted."

"You stopped it," Techno reminded him, the piglin hybrid's voice gentle. "You protected him, and we're forever grateful for that." 

"Yeah, Ant – you did amazing.  Thank you," Philza said, his gaze softening. "We'll take it from here, you two.  You're dismissed."

"Could you walk him to the Manifold Suite, Skeppy?" Techno asked. "It's been a long day."

"Of course," Skeppy said, offering Ant his arm on reflex. 

It was more surprising when the cat hybrid took it, both of them offering parting bows before they left the main area of the royal suite, escaping into the secluded shelter of the hall.  Skeppy was painfully aware of each tear that trailed down Ant's cheeks as they walked, the cat hybrid's sorrow entirely silent.  Skeppy knew from experience that such things could only be achieved through practice, which was yet another hurt to add on top of everything else.  It wasn't Skeppy's place to offer that sort of intimate comfort to Ant, but the desire was still there and difficult to stifle.

They seemed to arrive at the Manifold suite far too soon and not nearly soon enough.  Skeppy wanted nothing more than to stay, but truth be told, he had the least amount of power as Bad's fiancé.  It wouldn't be until they were actually married that Skeppy would hold any weight at all, but even then he would have to be extra careful with his friends not to put them in difficult positions.  Be extra careful with Ant, who mattered so much, and because he mattered so much, Skeppy couldn't risk forcing him into things because he was royalty.  Ant was a Manifold now in all but name, he had the power of a marquess behind him, but it wasn't enough. 

Skeppy wished Sam had just adopted Ant.  Wished he'd done it months ago so Skeppy’s jealousy wouldn't have harbored such idiotic thoughts in the first place.  But above all else, Ant had only ever wanted to maintain a low profile (despite loving the gifts and privileges being Sam's aide had given him), so of course Sam hadn't. 

Ant hesitated at the door, staring at the gilded wood. "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"

Skeppy thought about Bad, who was probably coaxing Sapnap through eating dinner right now.  It was a process Skeppy had been more of a detriment to than an aide, his own tension at seeing the baby of their pack struggle only adding to Sapnap's unease.  It was only logical for Bad and Sapnap to eat without him, and Bad would usually sit with Skeppy when he ate later, even if he was exhausted.  It was why Skeppy usually told him that he ate elsewhere.  In an effort to keep from lying, he made a firm effort to actually do so, knowing his fiancé wouldn't want him to be alone. 

"Yeah," Skeppy said, bowing his head in gratitude. "Thanks, your lord-"

"Please," Ant interrupted, just one word, and it was enough to halt Skeppy in his tracks.

He nodded again, and they went inside. 

Skeppy was able to wait for the door to shut behind them, able to wait until they got to the first lounge before he could hold himself back no longer. "Could I- may I hold you?"

Ant released a wet scoff. "You don't have to pretend you're doing me a favor, though it is uh- kind of you to try." 

"It's not- I want to," Skeppy said. "Ant, everything's been so fucked lately and I- I know you're more Bad's friend than mine, but I do care about you." 

Ant paused, turning to stare at him with watery eyes. "I care about you too," he whispered, the words barely carrying. "And you are my friend, I just thought-"

"Thought what?" Skeppy prompted when Ant seemed unable to continue.

The cat hybrid took in a deep breath, as though steadying himself. "I thought you considered me a nuisance," he admitted, looking off to the side. "You had to deal with me because I was Bad's friend." 

For a moment they just stood there, Skeppy's tired brain fighting to understand what had just been shared.  He ran a hand through his hair, and wished it was Bad's warm fingers.  His own were a poor substitute for the safety he found in his partner's hold. "We felt the same way," Skeppy said, putting the realization out there. "We both thought that the other- but I like you."

"And I like you!" Ant burst, locking gazes with him with a sudden intensity. "You're funny and sweet-"

"And you're funny and smart!" Skeppy interrupted, lurching forward so he could grab onto Ant's hands and feeling pleased with the purrs it earned him. "And also sweet, and take such good care of Josh-"

"You do such a good job with Sapnap!" Ant added, looking as though he was willing to fight Skeppy on that particular point should he dare to raise an argument. "I'm glad we're friends!"

"I am too!" Skeppy added, lips pulling into a wide smile. They simply stood there for a moment, grinning at each other like idiots, but it felt good, felt as though a weight had been lifted from Skeppy's shoulders.  Ant genuinely liked him, genuinely wanted to spend time with him, and the only reason he hadn't before was because he was afraid of bothering Skeppy.  They'd cleared that up, and now things would be- it would be easier, right?  

For some reason, this left Skeppy's instincts endlessly pleased.  

And then Ant's face fell a bit, making Skeppy's mood plummet like a boulder off a cliff, at least until the cat hybrid moved forward, eagerly accepting the hug that Skeppy had offered earlier.

Oh.  Okay, they were- they were still good. 

"It's so hard right now," Ant sniffed, leaning into Skeppy's shoulder, nosing his covered scent glad – which was likely an accident. "I'm glad that we- but we got this good thing while all this bad stuff is going on." 

"I know," Skeppy said, heart clenching at the thought. "And this doesn't- can't replace your losses.  It doesn't make it better that Fundy was targeted, but we're allowed- we can feel happy." He took a deep breath and then, despite knowing it was a risk. "I think your dad would like that.  I think he'd be proud of how your protected Fundy – how you're hurting for him, because that means you care." 

Ant released a wet sound, but only hugged onto him tighter. "He would, you know? He would be proud – he always was, he never hid that." He shuddered. "I never had to earn it."

"You don't, when it comes to parents," Skeppy agreed.  He had only been adopted by Techno for a short time and the piglin hybrid had frequently gone out of his way to enforce that much. "Whatever happens, Ant, we'll get through it together, okay?  I want to be there with you as we fight through it.  With you and Bad." 

"Thank you," Ant whispered, his voice wet with tears, though they seemed to be dying down. "I want that too."

"Then it's settled," Skeppy said, and it didn't fix anything, but it was a firm step forward, and that was enough for him.

He was a guy with small dreams, after all.

Chapter Text

The reason for this trip might not be the most positive thing, but Karl could admit that he was excited by his formal invitation to the capital. 

He'd received invitations before, of course.  He was Karl – author extraordinaire – the one who put fantastical, heartwarming worlds down on paper, coaxing them towards reality with a flourish of his pen.  His entire writing career had started as an accident, really.  He'd been trying to keep the little kids that visited his town library occupied while their parents searched for much-needed tomes.  There hadn't been a demand for children's literature – at least, not outside nobility – so Karl had made his own, and when a few shy parents had asked if he could put some down on paper so their pups could hold onto them for longer than their memories might allow, Karl had seen no reason to object.

A few years and literature-enthusiastic sponsors later and Karl had a proper writing career under his belt, because apparently other people wanted to hear his stories too, not just the hybrids in his small town. 

Karl loved his accidental career trajectory. He loved making stories from nothing, he loved helping young pups learn life lessons through the trials of his characters.  He loved teaching healthy communication and how to maintain positive pack relationships, he loved promoting same-type romances (so often, it was said that Protectors could only be with peacekeepers and vice versa, that males could only be with females, but that was stupid and stifling and Karl wasn't going to have it – not now, not ever).  And when the emperor had married not one, but two dapper studs, Karl had eagerly thrown himself into promoting positive polyamorous relationships, because he hadn't even realized that was a thing he could do and now that the option was available to him, he was going to run with it.  They would get all the best fairytale endings, the best illustrations, the most love and consideration. 

Karl loved his job and he loved the works he made and he knew, on an intellectual level, that his books were also widely beloved.  His bank account indicated that much.  He knew it from the fan mail he received, from the gifts and packages that were delivered to his publisher, from the multiple (and sometimes aggressive) demands that he go on a book tour. 

But Karl was content in his sunny, little town.  He already had a nice, cozy cottage with everything he could possibly need.  He donated a lot of his earnings to the town itself, or to Las Nevadas Charity funds – the real ones set up by Duke Quackity, not the skeevy ones the former nimrod of a duke had stolen directly into his pocket.  Karl liked helping refugees and promoting literacy as much as the next hybrid, and he thought his life couldn't get any better until one day, he received the invitation.

Karl had received many invitations over the years, of course.  From those that loved his books to those that sought to manipulate him for their own gain to those his publishers had grossly oversold him to – always saying how cute and chipper and charismatic he was and yeah, Karl was all those things – as a bunny hybrid, it was hard not to be cute – but he didn't think he'd ever have a chance of living up to the picture they painted.  It made him reluctant to step into the limelight, but this recent invitation changed everything.

Because one, it was to the capital – the political, artistic, and social hot spot of the empire, two – it was all expenses paid, as in full knight accompaniment, ultra luxurious carriage interspaced with ultra luxurious hotels and restaurants, and three – and most important – Karl had been personally invited by the emperor himself.

The emperor.

The emperor.

Karl wasn't one to really care much for politics. He didn't keep up much beyond what Corpse and his cheerful dryad hybrid partner Sykkuno would eagerly spill to him during their visits to Karl's cottage.   Sykkuno seemed to love gossip almost as much as he loved Corpse, which was saying something, but it was thanks to him that Karl was in any way up to date on the current affairs of the empire. 

"A bearer!" Sykkuno had yelled by way of announcing himself when he barged into Karl's cottage for their weekly tea party. "Duke Schlatt is bonded with a bearer and he's an avian and there's no way the emperor's not going to marry them now!" 

"Never mind!" Sykkuno had shouted later. "Turns out Schlatt's the worst, but Steward Quackity is now Duke Quackity and he's actually the best and they say he's the cutest duck hybrid in the world and he has pups Prince Thomas's age!" 

There were also other things, like:

"The emperor's in a rut!" and "Prince Wilbur was poisoned!" and "We're going to war!" which was swiftly followed by "We won the war!" 

And then there was some other stuff that Karl had been too busy to process because the deadline for his latest book had been fast approaching, and he loved Sykkuno, but sometimes a guy needed a little less shouting in his life. 

So maybe Karl wasn't as aware as he should be, but he knew the basics.  That the emperor was the emperor, just the most powerful person in the entire land, and he'd taken the time to handwrite a letter to Karl personally all for the express purpose of inviting him to the capital.

'Things have been trying as of late,' the emperor had written with an elegantly soulful wistfulness, or perhaps that was just the writer in Karl reading into things. 'But as it so happens, my flock holds a great fondness for your books.  I know you are reluctant to make personal appearances, but if you could please consider making an exception just this once, I would be deeply grateful.  Prince Fundy's birthday is fast approaching, and soon he will be moving into his early years at the royal academy.  With so many stressful changes occurring – and in light of recent, regrettable developments I would rather not go into that have been properly dealt with- I thought a visit from his favorite author- from all the pups' favorite author – could do well in raising their spirits.  Of course, I entirely understand if you are uncomfortable with this request.  Truth be told, we are more than grateful for the stories you have kindly put into the world thus far.  Those in themselves are gifts for which we will always be deeply appreciative.'

With words like that, was there ever a chance that Karl would actually turn the offer down?  There were sad pups on the line!  Sad pups and a royal invitation, and Karl wasn't sure if he could help with the burdens they carried, but if he could lighten the load a little bit, that would be good enough for him. 

There were other benefits, of course, besides the fancy accommodations and nice food and the quite literal royal treatment.  One such advantage was the opportunity to visit an old friend who'd moved to the capital years ago, not that Karl had been surprised by the development.  Stardeer were, as always, wanderers much in the way that Starborn weren’t.  They were rare hybrids with special gifts that made them prone to travel, beings that had a mystical manifestation.  They weren't quite like totem hybrids, at least as far as Karl knew.  Stardeer grew up as standard deer hybrids but when it came time to present, that was when the natural energy of the world flowed into them.  It took some things in exchange for their impressive powers, and Callahan – well, for Karl, he'd always been a Stardeer.  A homeless one, granted, which wasn't a surprise as most Stardeer were stubborn and prone to roaming in search of their true purpose.  The fact that Callahan had wasted a few of his younger years keeping Karl company had been a high honor, though he suspected Callahan had only indulged that much simply because Karl hadn't made a big deal of things.  He'd made a great friend and he hadn't fought Callahan when he'd felt the call to leave, the Stardeer eventually finding his way towards the Royal Court House, taking his seat as the youngest grand judge the empire had seen in three hundred years.

Still, he was a Stardeer, what were they going to do, deny him?

The moment Karl had received the invitation he sent a letter off towards Callahan asking if he could take up the Stardeer's standing offer to stay in his mansion (he was so extra, that Callhan, not that he'd ever admit it).  When he received a very detailed drawing of Callahan rolling his eyes with absolutely no supplemental writing in response, Karl knew that things would be okay, and he sent his reply via the messenger crow that had brought the invitation in the first place.

Karl was going to the capital.  He was going to see his close friend and work his way through the list of fancy restaurants Sykkuno had forced into his hand before he left because the dryad hybrid wanted to live vicariously through Karl, and then he was going to buy presents and get inspired for his future books before finally meeting the royal flock, surprising Prince Fundy on his birthday and maybe, just maybe, bringing a little joy to their lives.

But first, he got to meet Callahan. 

And boy, was his house as stupidly big as Karl had expected it to be.

"Callahan!" he hollered the moment he spilled out of his carriage, giving the poor footman a heart attack, but how could Karl possibly wait when Callahan was right there?  "Callahan!  Callahan!" 

Despite the shouting and frantically waved arms and flat-out running, Callahan didn't back up so much as a single step at Karl's chaotic approach, simply rooting himself to the ground and holding his arms wide.  Karl threw himself into the Stardeer as forcefully as possible, yet Callahan – as always – didn't shake, simply adjusting for Karl with a pleased hum before he pretended to allow the bunny hybrid to shamelessly cuddle him, pretended it was a great burden while still, notably, holding Karl closer.

"Callahan, you nimrod, why's your house so big?" Karl giggled when he finally pulled back enough to properly look at the judge. 

His friend gave him a flat look, simply shrugging before he turned on one heel and carried Karl into his overly fancy house.

‘Not everyone can be satisfied with a cottage’, floated through the back of Karl's mind, tingling like always. 

In return for his powers, Callahan had lost the ability to traditionally communicate.  He couldn't speak a word aloud – not in Common, not in hybrid noises.  Instead, he could directly communicate to the minds of his conversational partners, which had a tendency to freak people the heck out, but Karl thought it was delightful.  Back when they'd lived together, they'd had secret conversations all the time, mostly to annoy Sykkuno, who needed constant validation and attention as much as he needed air. 

"It's a nice cottage," Karl sniffed as he cuddled up to Callahan's shoulder, smile stretching wide as he finally got a view of the obnoxious mansion’s inside. "Could use a few chandeliers though, apparently.  Didn't know what I was missing out on."

Not that he didn't enjoy a good chandelier, he just never thought he'd find one that suited his style. It figured that Callahan would, though, the grand thing hanging in the great hall/receiving area/space/whatever rich people called it.

‘Lord Consort Foolish made it’, Callahan boasted with a small smirk. ‘It was a trap though.  Needed to keep him in one place so his husbands could track him down and make him rest.  Didn't expect him to finish it.’ Callahan's grin widened. ‘Got a little loopy near the end though.’

"If that's what he can make at his loopiest, I can't even imagine what he could do if he wasn't sleep deprived," Karl said, allowing his tone to be rife with awe. 

‘Very magnificent things,’ Callahan boasted, which meant he not only personally knew Lord Consort Foolish, but he actively liked him, which wasn't a common theme in Callahan's life.  It was far more likely for him to dislike literally everyone than to garner any amount of affection, but that was what made him such a good judge.  He was equally ambivalent towards everyone. 

"Enough gushing about other people," Karl huffed, giving Callahan's shoulder a light pat. "Gush about me.  And feed me, I'm hungry."

Callahan rolled his eyes in a grand exaggeration, but he continued his steady path towards the dining room where a feast was already waiting.

Good ole' Callhan; he always knew exactly what Karl needed. 

It was, as expected, an awesome meal. They picked up exactly where they left off as though no time had passed at all, Karl sharing spoilers for future novels as well as deleted scenes that hadn't made it and Callahan sharing details to highly sensitive court cases Karl had no business knowing anything about. 

So, just like old times.  

They ended their meal in a nearby sitting room and dined on cookies and hot chocolate while Karl patiently allowed Callahan to destroy him in chess three times before the Stardeer indulged Karl and allowed him to win the last match, which he did with only dignity and grace and no amount of happy dances. 

When Karl could no longer fight off the exhaustion from travel, Callahan herded him into a suite decorated in a manner remarkably similar to Karl's own cottage, complete with a cozy giant burrow where his bed should be.  It wasn't a guest room, it was very clearly Karl's space, and the bunny hybrid didn't tear up over it because he knew tears made Callahan uncomfortable, but he was sure to hug his friend extra tight.

"Want to stay with me the night?" Karl asked, trying to restrain the hope from his voice.

He'd already been given so much that day, and Callahan wasn't always up for cuddles.  He made allowances for Karl every now and then, but for the most part he preferred to have his private space, and there was nothing wrong with that. 

So he wasn't surprised when Callahan shook his head, though to his credit, he did at least seem apologetic. 

‘Early day tomorrow,’ echoed in the back of Karl's mind. ‘Have to throw the book at some idiots.  Several books.  Many idiots.’ 

"You lead a hard life," Karl chuckled before dutifully stepping back. "Thanks for all this, I really appreciate it.  The room-"

‘If you start gushing, I'll leave,’ Callahan complained, face as stoic as always. 

"Oh no, more snacks for me, then," Karl laughed, and with one last hug, they parted ways for the evening.

As per Sykkuno’s request, Karl kept detailed notes of everything – the decorations, the food, his room.  Karl was going to have enough gossip for the guy to last a year at the very least.  He did what he could until he was too tired to continue, and then he poured himself into the biggest bathtub he'd ever seen to wash the stink of travel off.  He ignored his own packed pajamas in favor of the fancy ones Callhan had left out for him – purple with bright, multicolored embellishments – letting his friend continue to spoil him with expensive, soft material before climbing into what was likely an equally expensive and excessively furnished bed.

So many blankets.

He swore, sometimes Callahan must think he was a bearer for the number of blankets he gave Karl, but he'd gotten used to the luxury over the years.  Too many pillows, too many blankets, a soft, cozy place to retreat – it was everything he could have ever hoped for and a little bit more. 

He yawned, snuggling happily into his burrow, and surrendered to the comfort of sleep. 

Yep, how could he ever need anything more than this?

~:~

The downside of Callahan being a super important government official was that he was always in high demand, so Karl wouldn't get much of a chance to see him except in the evenings.  They had a day off they planned to spend together should nothing go wrong, but until then, Karl was left to his own devices.  He'd come a month earlier than the emperor had requested entirely so he could get some time to explore the capital on his own.  Since he'd finished his last book, he figured there wouldn't be any harm in taking in some new art, perhaps checking out the latest fashions to see if he had any new ideas for character designs, but first-

First, he would explore Callahan's house.

He'd been given free reign of the place, after all; it wasn't like he could just ignore that freedom.  No, he wanted to see what his friend had been getting up to in the time they'd been apart.  He wanted to see Callahan's library, see if he'd painted anything new.  He wanted to see if the Stardeer had actually kept the knickknacks Corpse and Sykkuno sent him, if he'd decorated spaces himself or hired an outside designer, wanted to see how many of the excess rooms he actually visited (Karl would know, Callahan left a distinct crumb trail behind him, it would be more difficult not to know).  Karl wanted to know everything, and then he wanted to explore the gardens and find the best spot for napping, and then the best spot for writing, and then explore the sunroom he'd heard so much about, find the best spot for napping there-

Karl was on vacation, and when he was on vacation he was going to prioritize eating and napping.  They were very important leisure activities. 

He was humming to himself after breakfast, trying to decide which of these extremely pressing tasks should be completed first.  It was always going to come down to the library and the art gallery, and Karl's curiosity likely made his choice somewhat inevitable, the siren call of Callahan's masterfully created canvases far too tempting to ignore.  Callahan had a knack for art so strong that many had expected it to be his blessing as a Stardeer, and truthfully, Karl wasn't entirely certain that wasn't the case.  He wouldn't be surprised if Callahan had been blessed with the gift of art and decided to become the grandmaster of Antarctic Law instead.  He'd always been stubborn, and as a Stardeer, there were very few who would deny him, and even fewer who would think to question him.  As it was, Callahan kept his art on the side, a pastime he only shared with close friends, so it was with a light spring in Karl’s step that allowed his feet to take him to Callahan's private art gallery, something he'd been sure to have the Stardeer inform him the location of the night before. 

While the term 'private gallery' might give the indication that the space was small, Callahan's gallery was a sprawling thing that spanned multiple rooms, hallways, and of course, the grand gallery itself.  Karl decided to tackle the private halls first, slowly but surely working his way inward.  He was in the process of doing this when he ran across the first form of company that wasn't strictly Callahan's employees.

Well, it could still be an employee, Karl supposed.  He wouldn't put it past Callahan to stress his workers out so much that they had to duck away to cry for a little bit, it just seemed unlikely that they'd do so while being dressed so plainly, and also while staring at one of Callahan's paintings.

That was just a gut feeling though, but Karl's gut had gotten him pretty far in life.  It was usually correct.

By all rights, he should leave this individual alone, it was unlikely they wanted the company of a stranger, but...

Karl had always been a soft one, and beyond that, his curiosity was piqued. 

He'd never stood a chance.

"Hey," he said, clearing his throat to get the unknown hybrid's attention. "Are you alright?"

The hybrid startled, head snapping up from its previous hiding place of the shelter of his hands.  Now that Karl could get a better look at him, he could tell this was a blaze hybrid (a hot blaze hybrid, and he was sure that was as literal as it was figurative), and he seemed even worse off than his poorly-stifled sounds of mourning would imply. 

Obviously, he was not okay. 

"I- um-" the blaze hybrid sniffed, scrubbing frantically at his cheeks with the back of his hands, going through the effort of attempting to formulate some kind of response even though the answer to Karl's question was clear. "Shit.  Are you uh- the guest Callahan mentioned?  The friend?"

"That's me," Karl hummed, taking the lack of aggression as permission to stay and settling down beside the very attractive (but remarkably sorrowful) blaze hybrid. 

"Shit," the blaze repeated. "Sorry.  He mentioned- I just lost track of the date-"

"Dude, it's okay, you really don't have to apologize," Karl soothed, searching his pockets until he found the crumpled and eccentrically colorful handkerchief Sykkuno had gotten him for Yule last year.  It was part of a set.  He offered it to the other hybrid (a protector, by the smell of it, he was wearing scent blockers but a little always snuck through) who stared at it for a few moments before he accepted the peace offering, a pretty flush spilling across his features as he did so, though that could very well be Karl's wistfulness talking. "You're allowed to feel sad.  You're even allowed to feel sad in this gallery – Prime knows Callahan's art has made me cry before."

A beat, and then the poor joke (seriously, Karl could do so much better) seemed to startle a laugh out of the protector, something that made Karl's pulse spike for what was likely no particular reason. "That can't be true," the blaze hybrid said, easing into his first genuine smile.  It was a little wobbly around the edges but it was still heartfelt and true, tinged with a sort of hopefulness that even Karl, with all his experience in wordsmithing, would have difficulty describing. "Callahan's a great artist.  He's like, crazy talented."

"That can't be true if he made you cry," Karl huffed, bumping his shoulder against the blaze hybrid's companionably. "What are we even looking at anyway?"

He turned as he asked the question, trying to get a proper feel for what had transfixed the protector so, and was surprised to find none other than the Sir Dream Callahan positively gushed about in his letters.  Well, it was gushing for Callahan.  The fact that Sir Dream was regularly mentioned spoke worlds of Callahan's affection for the tall hybrid, and Karl was entirely unsurprised that Callahan had used that fondness and applied it to canvas. 

Sir Dream was one of the individuals Karl was interested in, if only to see if he was as dumb as Callahan insisted he was (he likely wasn't – Callahan's standards for such things were horrifically skewed because of his vast intellect.  There were few he considered moderately intelligent, and Karl was pretty sure that list included the late Duke Samuel Awe, the red stone genius and pioneer, and Crown Prince Bad Halo-Craft, the medical prodigy).  The smiley face mask and green and white clothing was a dead giveaway, but the cat hybrid beside him was more of a mystery.  Was this the elusive George that Karl had heard so much about?  Who was snarky and had somehow earned the designation of maybe-a-little-clever?  Callahan had done an amazing job capturing the two of them, somehow emanating an air of fondness from Sir Dream despite his mask and heavy concealments, the tall hybrid's head angled down towards George, whose smirk was trained firmly ahead of him, as though daring any of those that risked glancing his direction to waste his time.  

"Dude," Karl said, feeling his ears twitch in appreciation. "I get it now.  I'd weep too if I saw guys that hot."

Beside him, the unknown protector seemed to sputter, choking on air because he couldn't handle Karl's unquestionably accurate observations. "Dude," he hissed back, and when Karl managed the effort to pull his gaze from the unfairly attractive individuals in Callahan's painting (did he only know hot people?  It just didn't seem fair, Karl deserved to know all the hot people), the blaze hybrid was a dark red. "That's my fiancé you're talking about." 

While part of Karl mourned the fact that this stranger was now off the market (which didn't hurt because that would be weird because they were strangers and it wasn't like Karl did romance anyway, he wrote romance, that was his whole thing), he couldn't help but smile wide, supporting his fellow hybrid. "Which one?" he asked, curiosity piqued. "Is it both of them?  Dude, tell me it's both of them.  You would have so much swag."

"I- what?  I don't know what that is," the blaze hybrid sputtered.

"Me either!" Karl chirped. "My friend Sykkuno made it up-" He insisted he didn't, and that might be the case but it was way funnier to pretend that Sykkuno was making up stories because it made him sputter so nicely. "-but it seems like a good thing to have, and you have all of it."

"No I don't," the blaze hybrid insisted, deciding to get back on task. "I'm not- only Dream was my- but he... he's not..." The protector trailed off with a swallow, shoulders drooping as his melancholy seemed to take root once more. "I'm sorry, I misspoke," he whispered, staring at his lap miserably. "I don't have a fiancé anymore."

Oh.  Oh.

Hence the tears.  Hence the woeful longing. 

Aw man, that was the worst. 

"It wasn't like he cheated on me, or anything," the blaze hybrid rushed to assure. "We had to- to distance ourselves so our instincts wouldn't fuck us up or whatever, so right now I can't see him and I don't know when I'll be able to see him again and they took all the stuff he gave me- not that he gave me much- it was all a really big whirlwind and now it..." He cut off with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be bothering you with this." 

"Hey, I'm happy to help," Karl said, sure to keep his voice gentle. "You seem like you need someone to vent to, and a friend of Callahan's is a friend of mine."

"I wouldn't really call us friends," the blaze hybrid chuckled, dabbing carefully at his cheeks with Karl's handkerchief. "I'm more of a pity obligation.  Since Dream's gone and George is busy, this is the closest I can get to the two of them, so Callahan will let me hide out here and- you know-" He made a helpless gesture with his hand. "Cry." 

"Everyone deserves to have breaks when they need them," Karl said. "And Callahan doesn't do obligations, not even for his favorite people.  If he let you in, he likes you, and you deserve to be here."

"Oh," the protector said, blinking dumbly. "Um- thanks." He gestured with the handkerchief. "For all this, I- shit, I didn't even introduce myself."

"I didn't either," Karl reminded him.

"Yeah, but it's worse when I don't do it," the blaze hybrid said. "I'm Sapnap Halo-Craft-"

"Sweet Prime, you're a flippin’ prince!" Karl interrupted, eyes going wide because he remembered that much from Sykkuno’s babbling. "Sorry," he said, feeling his own cheeks flood with an embarrassed heat in the wake of his outburst. "Sorry, I should have expected that.  Callahan only hangs out with the ritziest of people."

Though he should have warned Karl that he might run into an honest to goodness prince.  Even if that was the ultimate plan for this trip, Karl still had a month to prepare himself, he hadn't expected to meet royalty day one. 

"Makes me wonder who you are," Sapnap – Prince Sapnap who looked so beautifully tragic or tragically beautiful (Karl would figure the order out later) – said lightly, reminding Karl of the social normality he'd accidentally bypassed.

"Oh, I'm not- there's no ritziness here," Karl said, gesturing towards his comfortable, multi-colored sweater. "I'm just Karl."

"Jacobs?" Sapnap offered with a wag of his brows. "Sorry, couldn't resist.  My little brothers are crazy for his stuff."

"Aw, I'm glad they like it," Karl said, his ears wiggling with pride. "That's actually why I'm in the capital, but don't tell anyone, it's supposed to be a surprise."

Sapnap gave him a confused look. "That's the reason you're..." His eyes went wide. "Are you actually Karl Jacobs?"

"In the flesh!" Karl chirped. "I'm on vacation, and if I was coming to the capital anyway, I thought why not visit my good friend Callahan?"

"And you said you weren't ritzy," Sapnap sputtered. "You're an empire-known author. Everyone loves your books."

"You're exaggerating," Karl huffed, ducking his head slightly to hide the growing blush. 

Curse Callahan and his well-lit hallways. 

"I seriously am not," Sapnap said, seeming painfully earnest.  Luckily he turned to the side next, running a distracted hand through his hair as he seemed to struggle to come to terms with things. "I can't believe I met Karl Jacobs.  I can't believe you're so hot." 

"Thank you!" Karl cheered, and while he was certain Prince Sapnap hadn't intended to share that last observation if the resulting flush indicated anything, Karl had every intention of riding the high of that compliment until the end of time.  A cute prince thought he was hot.  What a day.  Bless you, Callahan. "You're not so bad yourself, and by that, I mean you're super good looking." 

"T-Thank you," Sapnap said, accepting the compliment with substantially less grace, seeming too flustered to think straight.  "That's- I really appreciate, I..." His gaze trailed back towards the picture, and then a horrifically guilty expression overtook his features, something that caused him to curl in on himself. "George was right," he muttered, ducking his head. "I am a flighty second." 

"Okay, I feel like I'm missing some context here," Karl began carefully. "But finding other people aesthetically pleasing has literally nothing to do with your intimate relationships.  They are entirely mutually exclusive." 

"It's a nice thought," Sapnap allowed, mournful. "But I think you're charming too." 

It likely wasn't appropriate for Karl's heart to give a little flutter in the wake of such an admittance, especially when one of the princes of his empire seemed to be hurting (and by the way, where was his entourage?  Shouldn't princes have entourages?  Karl supposed that explained his plain clothing, he must have snuck out), but he was terribly mortal at the end of the day. 

So he reprioritized and tried to actually focus. "You're allowed to think that too," Karl said. "Look, I don't know your full situation, but being in a committed relationship with someone doesn't mean you're not allowed to appreciate other people.  That's a natural hybrid response – we're mostly pack-based creatures, we're going to go looking for those connections on instinct.  There's nothing wrong with that, and it doesn't make you bad or unfaithful, especially if you haven't acted on it." 

"That... that might be true," Sapnap allowed, and Karl could tell now that he was a stubborn one.  That was okay though, he liked stubborn ones. "But it's- it's complicated.  It's all complicated."

"You could tell me, if you like," Karl offered, starting to make himself comfortable. "I promise I won't write about it, and you know how Callahan feels about people violating his friends' privacy." 

"He'll throw the book at them," Sapnap whispered, a fond grin pulling at his lips. "Literally." 

"It's a beautiful sight," Karl allowed without elaborating, because that was just the first thing Callahan would do in his slow and methodical approach to sadistically ruining a person's life.  He actually made it a sort of artform.  Karl was as impressed as he was terrified. "You don't have to if you don't want to, of course," Karl assured him. "No strings attached, but if you want to vent to a neutral party who will not think less of you in any way because dude, I know drama, alright?  Then I'm your guy." 

Sapnap considered this for a moment and then eventually, slowly, nodded. "Okay," he said. "If you're sure.  I think that might help."

"I'm sure," Karl soothed, and this might not be how he expected to spend his morning, but he couldn't say he was unhappy for it. 

He was, as always, happy to help, and if he could be a part of the story for once, no matter how small – well, wouldn't that be something?

Chapter Text

"Wow," Karl said, taking all... that in. "I don't think I could write a story that is half as dramatic as your life is."

"Thanks," Sapnap grumbled, tone rife with misery as he slumped more firmly against Karl's shoulder.  The bunny hybrid had surrendered to his urge to cuddle partway through Sapnap's story and both of them were better for it, Sapnap almost desperate in his need to seek out physical reassurance as he shakily recounted the events that brought him to crying in front of his ex-fiancé and ex-friend's portrait. 

"Sorry," Karl said, distractedly running his fingers through Sapnap's hair – something the prince seemed to enjoy which was fortunate, because Karl enjoyed doing it. "I'm processing.  That was a lot."

"Sorry," Sapnap mumbled, turning to hide his face against Karl's shoulder.

"No, nope- no apologies needed," Karl soothed, letting out a few grunts of comfort that had the tension in Sapnap's body ease ever so slightly. "You have every right to share the burden of what you're going through.  I offered, you accepted, everything's fine here." He paused, allowing a few moments for that to settle into Sapnap's brain, and maybe allowed himself to nuzzle the top of the prince's head.  He couldn't help it, Sapnap's hair was soft. "Have you thought about visiting Dr. Ponk?"

Sapnap made a face. "He's busy with everyone else," he muttered. "I don't want to pull him away from someone that actually needs it."

"That's not how it works, dingus," Karl huffed. "Ponk was hired to help everyone with their problems, no matter how big or how small, and if it's hurting you, it warrants attention from a trained medical professional."

"Maybe," Sapnap groaned in a tone that indicated that he very much knew Karl was right but was reluctant about owning up to it because feeling guilty at least made him feel productive probably. "It's just- there's not a lot anyone can do.  It's a waiting game and I hate it." 

"Yeah," Karl said, scrunching his nose in thought. "Waiting does suck, especially when it's something important on the line.  I think one of the hardest things for us to do as hybrids is nothing.  We don't like feeling unproductive.  It goes against our instincts.  Like there's a small voice in the back of our heads that says we're not moving towards the optimum route of survival or something."

Sapnap blinked. "Yeah, it sort of feels like that."

"Sapnap, my dude, stop listening to that voice," Karl huffed. "Which I realize is easy for me to say-"

"It is though," Sapnap complained. "Just- what am I supposed to do?  I help babysit my brothers, I train, I do what limited royal duties my older packmates will allow because they're so overprotective-"

"Awww," Karl interrupted, cooing before he could help himself. "That's so sweet." 

"It's irritating, is what it is," Sapnap huffed, flopping back against Karl with a petulant grumble. "I'm an adult, I can help." 

"You can help," Karl agreed with a few consoling patterns. "I think- look, this is just my outside perspective, but I think with so many stressful, overwhelming and challenging things going on with your fluffle right now-"

"Fluffle?" Sapnap echoed, brows furrowed in confusion.

"That's a pack of bunnies," Karl explained. "Anyway, your fluffle elders are doing their best to create an air of stability.  I think first and foremost they don't want you to get hurt because they themselves are already hurting a great deal.  And I think secondly, and on a less conscious note, they're hoping you'll take the break for what it is.  Maybe relax, do things that make you happy, because it's a challenge for them to take it easy and be happy right now, but if they can allow you – one of their pups – to do it, there's hope." He reached up, scratching at the base of his ear. "At least, that's what I think." 

"That does seem like them," Sapnap said, an awed sort of realization settling over his features. "Wow, you're really good at this pack stuff."

"Thank you!" Karl chirped. "I write about it a lot." 

"Yeah, you do," Sapnap agreed, his grin stretching wide in what could be pride if Karl wasn't getting a too ahead of himself. "Your fluffle's really lucky to have you." 

Karl tried not to tense but he must not have been that successful because Sapnap's expression shifted into one of open concern, and that was sweet, but- well, it had been easier to talk about Sapnap's issues over his own.

"I'm an orphan," Karl explained, trying to keep his tone light. "I appreciate the sentiment, though."

"Oh," Sapnap said, and even though he had so much going on in his own life, he still managed to sound sad. "I'm so sorry, Karl."

"It's okay!" It was a reassurance Karl was used to giving even though it never really felt okay.  He was past the point of bemoaning it though.  He had plenty of other things to be grateful for. "I have lots of great friends and neighbors, and now I have you!" 

"Me?" Sapnap echoed, his earlier flush returning with an endearing blink. "Oh, that would be- yeah, you've got me." He smiled, and that time it was easy, genuine, something he didn't seem to second guess. "I'd be honored to be your friend."

"Aw, you're the cutest," Karl cooed, perhaps-maybe-entirely so he could see that lovely flush darken.  

He knew things with Sapnap were complicated, he wasn't going to be dumb about this, especially when Sapnap's heart was so clearly dedicated to Dream and George, but Karl could appreciate what he had while he had it. 

"You're cute," Sapnap grumbled, not quite looking at him.

Yep, that was definite progress.  Karl tried not to let it go to his head, but the fact that Sapnap could express an aesthetic appreciation for someone without throwing himself out the window spoke volumes. 

"Yes, I am," Karl agreed. "And as the resident cute person, I think I know what you need."

"You do?" Sapnap asked, perking up. "What?"

"You need a distraction," Karl said, emphasizing the word with a flourish of his free hand. "You're wallowing, and it's not healthy.  You need a distraction that helps you feel productive and passes time until your fluffle can hopefully get to a more stable place, and I have just the thing."

"What is it?" Sapnap asked, so very cute in his earnest curiosity.  He was open, honest, heart displayed beautifully on his sleeve.  He seemed, quite frankly, too good to be true, and that in itself put Karl on edge, but as long as he didn't let himself get too deep, he just might be allowed this small adventure. 

"Be my guide for the next month," Karl said, making Sapnap blink in surprise. "This is my first time in the capital and I want to see all the sights.  Callahan can't get too many days off, so I was planning to explore on my own, but if you were comfortable with it... and look, this isn't something you have to feel obligated to do, or maybe we can just hang out a few times, you don't actually have to spend a month with me, but-"

"I think," Sapnap interrupted, his gaze shifting into something unfathomably fond. "I think that would be nice." 

Oh, he- oh.

And just like that, the tension Karl hadn't realized he'd been carrying in his chest completely dissipated, leaving a sort of breathlessness behind.

Which wasn't- there wasn't anything to read into that.  He knew he couldn't get too deep, he knew that, there wasn't anything for him here, certainly not with a prince, but with a friend, maybe they could have some good adventures together. 

Maybe.  Maybe.

"Great," Karl said, getting his bearings back. "Then get up.  I need help exploring Callahan's fancy house, but first-"

"First?" Sapnap echoed, smile bright and seeming as eager as Karl felt and graciously accepting the hand Karl offered him as he pulled the blaze hybrid off the floor. 

"First we need to send a message to whoever you snuck out on that you're okay," Karl chastised, giving Sapnap's shoulder a reprimanding poke. "Because they're probably having a heart attack right now, which will only get worse if you stay here all day."

"Oh." Sapnap's shoulders slumped a little. "I suppose that's fair."

"It is fair, dingus, now come on," Karl ordered, and when he reached for Sapnap's wrist to drag him along the blaze hybrid shifted, an accidental repositioning that left Karl's hand brushing against Sapnap's fingers, and while his heart twinged painfully in his chest, he decided to go with his gut, to act on the instincts that had guided him for so long.  

He held Sapnap's hand, and the prince held his in return, didn't jerk away, didn't spit at Karl for daring to be so bold.  He just- he held on back, and when Karl guided him forward, he followed, the two of them moving together as one. 

Nothing to look into there.

~:~

Sapnap could admit it, Karl was amazing.

"Snobby Callahan," Karl giggled as they investigated the third grand spiral staircase they happened to stumble across. "He has a slide too?  Money really does change people." 

"Um," Sapnap began, looking over the architecture that was elegant but still quite distinctly a staircase. "This isn't a slide."

"Oh, it's not?" Karl hummed innocently, and then he was throwing a leg over the wide marble banister, sending Sapnap a cheeky wink before he just- let himself slide down the marble to the chorus of cheerful giggles.

"Karl!" Sapnap stumbled after him, heart lurching in his chest at the thought of the bunny hybrid getting hurt.  Even if they'd just met, Karl had left an impact. There was also the fact that the brunette was his family's favorite author, and if he died on Sapnap's watch, just- bad things.  All the bad things.

"I'm fine!" Karl assured him, kind enough to reduce his speed halfway down the staircase, the bunny hybrid looking up to where Sapnap was still a floor above him. "You should give it a try!" 

"Callahan would actually murder me," Sapnap said, because even if Karl seemed certain that Callahan wouldn't let Sapnap onto his estate without there being some amount of friendliness between them, Sapnap himself wasn't so sure.  He supposed the fact that Callahan let him come and go as he pleased so Sapnap could get in pathetic painting-staring time should count for something, but Sapnap had assumed that was Callahan's way of keeping him out of trouble.

"He wouldn't!" Karl insisted. "If anything, he'd do it too!  Honestly, I doubt he even uses these staircases.  Guy probably teleports everywhere."

"Callahan can teleport?" Sapnap burst with significantly less composure than he'd intended.

Karl shot him a coy look. "Maybe," he allowed. "You'll have to ask him to know for sure!" 

Which pretty much settled that.

Sapnap didn't slide down the staircase but he did end up holding Karl's hand far more than he could have expected, explored more of Callahan's estate than he ever thought be allowed.  He'd considered it a generosity when Callahan had shown the blaze hybrid his private art gallery, Sapnap hadn't wanted to push his luck for more.  Maybe- maybe that had been Callahan's way of helping his friends.  He must be frustrated too, as one of the most powerful individuals in the empire. Despite that, there was little he could do about the current problems that plagued them save to serve justice upon those that violated it after the fact.  Still, it was more than Sapnap was doing, and maybe he should actually brave having a conversation with Callahan later.  Reach beyond the olive branch that had been offered, see if Callahan still his hand had offered out. 

That would require making it until the evening though, and for now, Karl seemed determined to run Sapnap ragged.

"Look!" Karl cheered as they burst out into the gardens. "We must smell every flower!" 

They didn't, thankfully, but they did take a moment to enjoy each of the many varieties of blossoms Callahan kept on his property.  They were all tasteful and elegant, but once Sapnap stopped to actually look at them, they were just- they were really pretty.  Well cared for, lovingly tended to, each batch of flowers planted in special locations that would build one large, cohesive picture.  Their scents complimented each other, nothing seemed to overpower the rest, or leave a cacophony of smells that would leave a guest nose blind.  This was a space that had planned out with care, and Sapnap- how many luxurious gardens like this had he been to?  He'd been through the royal gardens dozens of times, had even become well acquainted with the Wastaken's and the sunny glades of Las Nevadas.  He'd seen some truly spectacular greenery in his time, but how often had he taken the chance to really look at it?  

He wasn't sure if it was Karl's intent to remind Sapnap to appreciate the world around him, but that was certainly the takeaway Sapnap found, his hand warm against Karl's as he tugged them along each and every garden path.

"Bunnies!" Karl chirped when he caught sight of a few adorable creatures hiding in the underbrush. "My brethren, come here!" 

Despite his childhood in the Nether, despite traveling through it with the army, Sapnap had never encountered a proper Blaze, much less attempted to communicate with one.  The entire prospect seemed foolhardy, but Karl?  

Two minutes had them sitting in the grass, a gaggle of bunnies cheerfully hopping around them, three or four all trying to scramble for the right to sit in Karl's lap. 

"Hey, bunny-bunny," Karl hummed, releasing a few clucks that they all eagerly echoed. "You're all such cuties.  Look at you doing a good job keeping Callahan company.  Thank you for looking after my friend." 

"Can you speak with them?" Sapnap asked, because he knew it was an ability some hybrids had.  It was rare, of course, the fact that both Philza and Quackity could do so – two individuals within the same pack – was somewhat staggering.  Most had written it off as having come to expect such victories from the royal flock, but it didn't make Sapnap any less proud. 

"Not really," Karl said, his gaze fixated on the bunnies below them. "It's more of a vibe thing."

"Vibe?"

"It's slang that my friend Sykkuno is trying to make popular," Karl informed him.  

Despite having just met Karl, a few hours together already had Sapnap incredibly familiar with the friends Karl had left behind in his home village – the somewhat neurotic Sykkuno and the ever laidback Corpse, who was also a bunny hybrid.  Karl didn't seem to mind that Sapnap hadn't offered much about his own background after the shameless babble fest he'd had earlier (he was still somewhat embarrassed by it, even if Karl said it was okay), the bunny hybrid content to just- distract Sapnap, just like he'd said.

Sapnap wasn't entirely sure what Karl was getting out of this – his immediate assumption would have been that Sapnap himself was a distraction for Karl, or perhaps a novelty as a royal, but Karl had nipped that in the bud almost right away.

"To clarify, I'm doing this because I like you and I want to help you," Karl said. "What I get out of it is the benefit of your company, but I'm under no obligations here and neither are you." 

Sapnap had felt bashful in the wake of such clear communication, but Karl had been insistent. 

"I write about so many things going astray because people just won't communicate," Karl explained. "I don't want to do that in real life.  Neither of us deserves it."

Clear communication.  A cheerful disposition.  It was pretty much impossible not to like Karl.

It didn't hurt that he was adorable too.

"Of course, we only use it when Sykkuno’s not around," Karl continued cheerfully. "We can't let him know he won."

"Then why use it at all?" Sapnap asked, desperately trying to distract himself from the vision of a cute bunny hybrid surrounded by his declared brethren. 

"Because I like supporting my friends!" Karl cheered, scooping up a bunny in his hands. "Here."

Before Sapnap could process what was happening he found himself with a handful of bunny who let out a few potentially annoyed grunts at him. 

"Um," Sapnap said, staring down at it. "What if I hurt it?"

Karl blinked at him, seeming confused. "You're a protector, dummy, you won't hurt it."

"But what if I don't mean to?" Sapnap pressed, thinking of George's wounded expression.

It was amazing how little time it took to catastrophically hurt someone.

"Then it would be an accident," Karl said, his expression so gentle it made Sapnap ache. "And we don't blame people for accidents."

He said it so easily, like it was irrefutable.  Sapnap wondered what it was like to live with such certainty, especially with your personal relationships.  He wasn't going to be a dick and assume Karl lived a life free of burdens, Sapnap was certain that Karl had his own trials to battle, and comparing troubles never got anyone anything anyway.  He tried not to make Karl bigger than he was, not more than what he'd presented himself as.  Just because he'd come to Sapnap when he was vulnerable, just because he seemed to be helping, just because he made Sapnap genuinely feel relaxed for the first time in days didn't mean he was some sort of mystical feelings wizard.  He was just Karl, a thoughtful, cute writer who seemed to believe in Sapnap.

Perhaps Sapnap could spare some effort to believe in himself too. 

"And I don't think he would either," Karl continued, his smile brightening. "Look! I think he likes how warm you are."

Sapnap, who had been holding terribly still in an effort not to wound the harmless animal in his hands, hadn't really taken much time to process what it was doing.  He paused, looking down to see if he'd somehow managed to hurt it in the few seconds it'd been since Karl spoke, and was surprised to find it snuggling close, a few pleased clucks spilling from its mouth.

A beat, and then five or so bunnies scrambled for Sapnap's lap, all of them seeming to want to get a piece of his elevated body temperature. 

"Hey, look at that!" Karl laughed, seeming utterly unaffected at the way he was abandoned. "Seems like you've mastered the opposite of hurting them to me." 

It was a dumb thing to feel proud of.

Sapnap held onto it regardless.

Eventually, Karl had to extricate Sapnap from the bunny bonanza, though he only succeeded after assuring the bunnies multiple times that he and Sapnap would visit again.  Sapnap was pretty sure there was the promise of carrots too, but he was getting dragged away again before he could dwell on it, Karl taking Sapnap straight to the kitchen to demand a grand feast be created to celebrate their new friendship.  Karl's interpretation of 'a grand feast' turned out to be three types of sandwiches and a veritable plethora of cookies, but that was okay, because it turned out Callahan had a ruthless sweet tooth that his staff had learned to be prepared for and as such always had a bounty of pastries on hand.  Maybe that was why Foolish and Callahan got along so well.  Sapnap was certain Foolish was the one who had made all of Callahan's chandeliers.  At the very least he'd done the ballroom, mostly because Callahan only hosted balls for the few people he liked, so Foolish had gotten to dust off his mural making skills by featuring the individuals Callahan treasured most. 

It was actually pretty sweet.  At least, it was for Callahan.

The cookies however were unquestionably sweet, or citrusy or chocolate covered or sprinkled with nuts, and Sapnap might have had more fun watching Karl delight in each of them after their sandwiches had been attacked than he did eating his own fill (though Sapnap had enjoyed that as well), but if that was the case, that was his business and his business alone.

"To the library!" Karl had declared when their meal was over, and that was when he found himself corralling a starstruck Karl, Sapnap inadvertently tasked with ensuring he didn't run into any furniture as he stared in wonder at the shelves upon shelves of books spanning all the way up to the very high ceilings. "It's so beautiful," Karl whispered as he almost tripped over a study table. "I knew Callahan had been working on his collection, but this is- he must have everything the Essempis ever printed and then some!"

"That seems like Callahan," Sapnap mused, a helpless smile pulling at his lips.  He couldn't help but grin in the wake of Karl's enthusiasm, seeing someone be so genuinely appreciative, so enthused by something they loved, it was always a great sight.  It wasn't specific to Karl himself. 

"Help me pick out some stuff to read tonight," Karl said, batting distractedly at Sapnap's shoulder. "I need at least five!"

"At least- wait!" But Karl was already skipping away, effortlessly climbing one of the rolling ladders and sticking his head into the shelves. "What kind of books do you want?"

"Whatever you think looks good!" Karl called back with a distracted wave. "I want to read what you recommend!" 

Okay, no pressure.  Sapnap just had no idea what Karl liked, only had to impress the author his family loved so much. 

It would be fine.

Despite the relatively low stakes, Sapnap found himself panicking as he searched each of the sections.  He wasn't a real prince, like Bad.  He wasn't a scholar or bookworm.  He didn't have the same administrative skills as George or even Dream.  Sapnap knew enough to get by, but he'd dedicated himself to his pack and his sword, to the empire – he hadn't really read a lot of books, and he certainly hadn't read any that would impress Karl.  In the end, Sapnap had to pick from the meager collection of tomes – the modest ones he, Bad, and Skeppy had worked through before bedtime over the years.  He selected the ones he thought were the very best – perhaps they weren't the most respectable, but they promoted all the nicest feelings, had given them hope when things were difficult, featured Nether hybrids in a decent light.  Decades ago, there were prejudices against mob hybrids, something that was even worse for Nether ones.  The Awe duchy and Manifold March had been exceptions, but the rest were considered barbarians, destined for lives fraught with violence. 

It was amazing what a few generations could change.  Now there was not only one, but two piglin hybrids as acting lord consorts and the empire was nothing but supportive of them.  The crown prince was a Nether demon. 

The future really was getting better, and they were helping contribute to that.

In light of such things, maybe presenting some of Bad's favorite books wouldn't be so inappropriate after all.  If Sapnap just so happened to have an affection for them as well, that was his business alone, though he was admittedly surprised to find that Callahan had each of the books he'd been looking for.  The Stardeer really did have everything.

"I wanna see!" Karl declared the moment he rushed back to Sapnap's side, a small pile of books clutched in his arms. "I wanna see, I wanna see, I wanna see." 

"H-Here," Sapnap said, shyly offering his two suggestions on top of Karl's pile. "They're not the best-"

"Muffins for Maisel! I love that one!" Karl cheered, grinning like a loon as he stared at the top book. "You know, it's the first slice of life, family-focused book that became popular in the empire?  And it featured nether hybrids too back before that was widely accepted.  It's awesome!  This was definitely one of the books that inspired me to write."

"Really?" Sapnap asked, his heart giving a strange flutter. "It made my brother want to start baking too, and he's bad at just about everything, but I think he made himself be good at muffins just to like, honor this book."

"Your brother sounds like a smart guy," Karl said, his ears giving an appreciative waggle. "Thanks for the recommendations, Sapnap, I can't wait to get through them."

"You want to get started now?" Sapnap asked, feeling awkward.  He wouldn't mind waiting around while Karl got his fill of literature.  He could always meditate or stretch or something, maybe take a nap-

"Nah, these are for tonight," Karl dismissed with a happy grunt. "I'm not going to read when I could be spending time with you, that'd be rude."

"I- but I offered?"

"Still rude," Karl declared, emphasizing this with a decisive nod. "Come on, let's drop these off in my room and then we can keep exploring."

Karl's room, as it turned out, was more like a sprawling suite, but Sapnap could see the care and attention to detail that had been extended towards the bunny hybrid.  These rooms had a distinct design separation between them and the rest of the castle, giving off a more cottage-y feel.  It was cozy while still looking expensive, Callahan seeming to want to honor his friend in every way possible.  It reminded Sapnap of the lengths Dream went through just to make Jack feel at ease, and-

No, nope, distraction.  Sapnap was distracting himself to make the time go by faster.  Because they would be okay at some point. 

They would be fine, Sapnap just had to be patient.

"I got some books for you too, if you don't mind," Karl said, shyly passing over two tomes – significantly more modest and understated than the majority of his collection. "I think you might like them.  I mean- if you like my stuff, you'll probably like this."

"Thank you," Sapnap said, throat feeling suddenly thick with emotion.  It was a simple act, one of many generosities Karl had thoughtlessly given him that day, but for Sapnap, it meant a lot. "My brothers and I- we like to do this before bedtime.  Cuddle up in our nest and take turns reading to each other."

"That is so sweet," Karl whispered, sounding awed. "You could share these books with them too, if you want.  I know Callahan wouldn't mind, and if he does, I'll take the heat for it." He sent Sapnap a wink. "Alternatively, you could just ask him yourself later." 

"Maybe," Sapnap said, still feeling uneasy.  

It wasn't that he was put off by Callahan's telepathy, it had never felt strange to have those communications directly projected into his brain, there was just the ever-present fear that he was somehow always wasting Callahan's time. 

It didn't help that the Stardeer had the best poker face in the world.

"Come on," Karl said, deftly changing the subject. "Let's go find Callahan's game room.  It'd be nice to beat someone at chess."

As it so happened, they were both equally terrible at chess, sometimes forgetting where each of the pieces went (look, Sapnap usually played against George and he was understandably distracted when it happened, it wasn't like he'd ever had a chance to focus on the rules – he had other priorities).  They made up their own rules, somehow transforming a game of tactics into a roleplaying simulation about aggressive noble mothers nitpicking each other through their student's school social functions.  Sapnap had no idea how they got to that point, but he could admit it had been the most he'd laughed in a very long time, tears coming to his eyes when Karl sneered at him in a fake haughty tone, his tone shifted into a poor falsetto that must grate on his own ears.

"What, you only purchased eight dozen of the finest tea cakes from the finest bakery?  How embarrassing, if I had known your family was doing so poorly, I would have started a charity foundation in your name," Karl sniffed as he moved his knight in a lazy diagonal. "Oh, you dared to select chocolate hazelnut cupcakes for the gala?  Everyone knows it's hazelnut chocolate that's all the rage nowadays – now be banished, you unfashionable clod, we can't bear to be seen with you."  

"Oh Prime," Sapnap gasped, rubbing at his eyes. "It's like I'm there."

"I have a very good imagination," Karl boasted, puffing up with pride. 

They declared their game of chess a draw with no one's daughter being declared the semi-annual international amateur bi-weekly little miss teacup and moved onto billiards, which Sapnap was slightly better at where Karl was slightly worse.  To compensate, the bunny hybrid attempted to distract Sapnap with jokes and exaggerated stories of his and Callahan's past exploits, and by the time they got company they were both crying tears of laughter, because either Callahan was quite a card in his youth or Karl was just that good at making up stories.  Potentially both. 

Sapnap hadn't realized how much time he'd spent with Karl until he turned to find Callahan there, the Stardeer in what Sapnap guessed were the informal robes he wore post-work, the judge blinking at them in a look of earnest curiosity.

‘You're not crying,’ he pointed out by way of greeting. ‘That's nice.  I'm glad.’

Sapnap, who had been prepared to defend himself, reflexively tensing in preparation for criticism because that was what he usually got as a prince – paused, blinking. "Thanks," he said, feeling shy. "For um- everything, really.  I really appreciate that you let me in here." He ducked his head. "I don't know if I said that."

‘You didn't need to’, Callahan assured him, his expression unchanging. ‘I knew.  I'm very smart.’

"The smartest," Karl agreed, looking proud. "Hey, can Sapnap join us for dinner?"

‘Of course,’ Callahan said, seeming confused that Karl had even asked.  His expression didn’t change, but somehow Sapnap sensed that. ‘I have already assured his family that he is safe here.’ He turned his attention back to Sapnap. ‘They're glad you're taking a break.  I believe it comforts them.’

Callahan wasn't one to mince words. He said what he thought and he didn't bother with flowery nonsense.  He was cut and dry, always straight to the point, and didn't offer observations unless he thought they would genuinely be helpful.

And now he'd made the effort to reassure Sapnap several times over, even though they weren't really friends.

"It's been nice," Sapnap said, his tongue feeling clumsy’. "I don't want to intrude on your private time though."

Callahan cocked his head to the side. You are both friends. Whether I spend time with one or two, it makes no difference.  Friend time is friend time.’

"Oh," Sapnap said, his face flooding with heat. 

There went that little assumption.

"You've blown his mind," Karl whispered, a playful smirk pulling at his lips. "Hey, if you're friends, can he borrow some books from you?  I had some recommendations I want him to share with his brothers."

‘That is acceptable,’ Callahan allowed, and it was a gift, this was- all of this was a gift, a privilege, and it wasn't one Sapnap would take lightly. 

He was wanted here.

More than that though, he wanted to be here.

~:~

Once he accepted the fact that Callahan wasn't merely just tolerating him, dinner with the Stardeer and Karl turned out to be very enjoyable.  Callahan complained about his work – or realistically, at the gall some of the guilty citizens before him dared to project, at their amazement for being brought to justice.  

‘They're stupid,’ Callahan declared, scrunching his nose as he took another sip of wine. ‘I hope they all stub their toes.’

"Whoa, harsh words, Cal," Karl giggled, his cheeks slightly flushed after his second glass of wine. 

It seemed he had no tolerance for the stuff whatsoever.  

Sapnap made a mental note to have the castle staff stick to fruit spritzers when Karl visited.

‘They deserve it,’ Callahan declared, unrepentant. 

After dessert, which was not one, not two, but three different slices of cake (they were small slices, but still, there were three), they retreated to a lounge where Callahan destroyed the meager combined chess efforts of Sapnap and Karl.  It was where Sapnap discovered that Callahan could indeed change the projected voice he used to communicate, shifting it into a high-pitched nagging that was a strange contrast to the thoughtful expression of neutrality that graced his features as he stared down at the chess board.

‘The arrangement of silken flowers woven around your hat band communicate that you are a cheap, tasteless hussy,’ Callahan hummed, his eyes narrowed in thought. ‘Your sense of fashion is as nonexistent as your social grace, and sure as my husband is committing tax evasion with what he assumes is a very clever workaround but is actually just super illegal and will inevitably lead to the ruin of my family, you will be the laughingstock of your pack.’

"Should have gone with lace, Karen," Karl giggled, slumping against Sapnap's shoulder with a happy grin.  

They lost horrifically, but Callahan was kind enough to only make them suffer through two matches before he was herding them off to bed with the same mother henning tendencies that would make Bad proud.  Sapnap mostly suspected this was because Karl had started drifting off near the end, and Sapnap could admit, the excitement of the day was starting to catch up to him too.  Callahan parted ways with them at Karl's suite, the bunny hybrid hugging onto him several times over, murmuring how much he loved and appreciated Callahan.

"You're just- you're really cool, and I love you a lot," Karl mumbled. "I missed you." 

Callahan didn't say anything, though for the first time that evening his expression shifted somewhat into a look tinged with the slightest bit of sorrow.  If he spoke, it was to Karl only, who responded with a dopey grin that shifted into a yawn.

"I've got Sapnap," he declared, gesturing lazily towards his door. "You gave me too many rooms, dude, you don't need to lose a prince in another guest suite."

‘I gave you just enough rooms,’ Callahan countered, this time seeming fond. ‘Goodnight, friends.’

"Goodnight, Callahan," Karl said through a yawn, allowing Sapnap the chance to mumble out his own parting words before he dragged Sapnap into his suite with him. 

"You can use fancy bathroom number two," Karl said, tugging Sapnap deeper into his suite, past the initial lounge where they had set their books earlier. "Callahan left plenty of fancy clothes for me, so use what you want.  We can go and hunt down your room tomorrow, see what pieces he had specially tailored for you."

"I don't think he did that," Sapnap said, surprised by Karl's strength.

"You're so cute when you underestimate how important you are," Karl giggled in response. "Don't worry, I'll prove it tomorrow.  For now though, we sleep."

They split apart to clean up, and Sapnap was so tired that he didn't feel on edge about using a foreign space.  Karl's second bathroom was just as comforting yet luxurious as his first, and instead of turning towards the guest bed the way he should have, Sapnap found himself wandering back towards the master bedroom he'd been too curious to ignore.  He just- he wanted to know what kind of space would be Karl's.

It turned out, it was perfect for him, just like everything else but with a huge, cozy burrow.

And there wasn't- there wasn't an urge to be invited into that burrow.  There wasn't anything of the kind.

Karl, who'd been messing with the edge of his nest, perked up with a pleased flush. "Hey, you're here!" he cheered. "I'm glad, I thought I had to sleep alone again, and I- I hate sleeping alone, so..." He cut off with a yawn, grabbing a few blankets from his burrow and dragging them over towards Sapnap. "Couch?" 

"Yeah," Sapnap said, and he wasn't disappointed, he'd literally just met Karl and this was what friends did.  It was normal to share couches together, it was why rich hybrids had such nice ones.  Karl's was no exception and he urged Sapnap onto it first, letting the blaze hybrid get settled before he more or less crawled on top of the prince, dragging his blanket over them with a few clucks.

"Oh shit," Karl mumbled, his eyes already fluttering shut as he settled in. "Now I get why the bunnies were excited, this is the best."

"Happy to serve," Sapnap said, but Karl was already drifting off, and there was a distinct feeling of satisfaction deep in Sapnap's chest, something he knew connected to his instincts.

Because here he was, providing.

It was different than when he did it for his brothers, but still good, and with that hazy comfort he allowed himself to drift away, knowing that he'd done well.

Chapter Text

Sapnap couldn't remember the last time he'd rested so well.

He'd always slept well with Bad and Skeppy – they were family, pack – but they were all under a lot of stress right now.  Even if they derived a significant amount of comfort from each other, they couldn't seem to help but carry some of the tension of their day into their unconscious selves.  One of them tended to wake from nightmares at least once a week – whether it was from stress or the thought of losing someone else, or maybe Eret's loss had hit hard, or maybe it was Sam or Jack this time, maybe they were struck with a palpable wave of despair they could normally fight off when they were fully awake – there was always something, the fear of failure, of not doing enough, and while they would always do their best to comfort each other, Sapnap hadn't realized how easy things could be until he'd removed himself from the equation.

He'd gone nights without his brothers before.  He'd stayed over with the younger pups when he was feeling particularly protective, or he'd held back to give them some space because even if his brother insisted he and Skeppy didn't have the most active sex life, Sapnap knew that was a lie – he remembered what things had been like in Halo Manor – and he wanted them to have the private time that they deserved too.  Yeah, sometimes he was lonely, especially when he retreated to his room by himself, and maybe he would tear up at the absence of Dream because he'd gotten so used to having his- his not alpha by his side – but Sapnap was strong and capable, he could do this, he could make this sacrifice that wasn't really a sacrifice at all.  In fact, many hybrids slept by themselves.  It was actually the most natural thing in the world.

And this- what he had upon waking, that felt natural too.  There was someone resting on top of him – long and lanky and not meeting up with anyone he could immediately conceive.  Jack and George were both shorter, and Dream and Bad far bigger.  Skeppy was broad, and Quackity- no, Quackity would cuddle Sapnap against him, not the other way around.  The confusion might have been what dragged Sapnap to full coherence, though that may have worked in tandem with the slow growing amazement that he felt so very rested. 

It was an easy sleep, perhaps like the ones he used to have before the war, when he was more ignorant and things were uncomplicated. 

When he blinked his eyes open he didn't recognize the space he occupied, but the immediate coziness of it made him smile.  Motion, and his focus was shifted onto long, substantial ears that gave a few errant twitches while the hybrid on top of him muttered in their sleep.

Who did Sapnap know that had large ears?  Who-

Karl.

This was Karl.  This was his family's favorite writer, and he was using Sapnap as a pillow.

That was- that was pretty cool, he could admit.  Even without the favorite writer thing.  Now that Sapnap knew Karl, that was just- objectively cool. 

Karl yawned against his shoulder. "What time is it?" he grumbled, sounding reluctant to enter the world of coherency. 

"Um." Sapnap scanned the space for a clock. "It's almost nine."

Wow.  He hadn't slept that late since Bad and Skeppy had forced him to for his babying punishment.  Sapnap had felt guilty about it until Bad had knocked him out with incense, and then, after waking from the most restful sleep he'd had since the war, he begrudgingly admitted that his brother may or may not have had a point.

That felt like so long ago now.

"Awesome," Karl hummed, sitting up with slow stretch and seeming entirely unbothered at the way this left him effectively straddling Sapnap's lap. "Sounds like the perfect time to have a fancy brunch.  Let me get dressed and then we can hunt down your room and get you some fancy prince clothes."

"I don't have a room," Sapnap insisted, blinking at the easy way Karl hopped off his lap and over to his dresser, rummaging through it before he pulled out a minor eyesore of a sweater and hugged it to his chest with a purr of delight. 

"You have a room," Karl countered easily, beginning a new quest for pants. "I'm sure it will be a very nice room." 

It was a very nice room.  It was in a very nice suite.  It somehow managed to look like a fancier version of what Sapnap had in Halo Manor, his original design aesthetic improved upon and made elegant and tasteful.  His suite in the castle- with the Wastakens – they were nice, there was no denying that. He'd been consulted for both so that they would most accurately suit his needs, but this?  It felt like Karl's space – fancy but cozy, and while Sapnap realistically knew he deserved the rooms he was given on the simple fact that the individuals that had given them to him wanted him to have them, there was something about this space that made him feel more at ease.  Like there was slightly less pressure to make himself greater than he was, than he could ever hope to be.

"Like it?" Karl asked, mischief dancing in his gaze because he already knew the answer. 

"Yeah," Sapnap admitted, his voice thick. "How did he know?"

To make it just right.  To find that perfect balance.

Karl seemed to understand without Sapnap having to elaborate.

"It's Callahan," Karl said with a shrug. "He always knows."

With that, he promptly buried himself in Sapnap's new closet, returning with a perfectly tailored outfit of princely quality that Sapnap quickly changed into, hiding in the bathroom to admire the subtle embroidery, the multiple house crests.  He may be a Craft now but he'd been a Halo first, was loved by a Quackity and a Blade, and getting to represent the full breadth of his family made Sapnap glow with pride, had him exiting the bathroom with a smile he couldn't suppress if he tried. 

"Looking good, stud," Karl whistled, and then he was dragging Sapnap down to breakfast, and Sapnap guessed at some point holding hands had become a normal default for them, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

(That was a lie.  It made him feel good, feel wanted, feel supported, and that worried him so he tried not to dwell too much, tried to keep his focus on the future, on the next adventure.)

They had brunch in the sunroom – Callahan absent once more due to an early date at the courthouse – but it was companionable.  Comfortable.  It reminded Sapnap of the lazy lunches he, Bad, and Skeppy would share on their combined days off, back before everything got crazy.

"Okay," Karl said when they were finished, reaching both arms over his head in a slow stretch. "Is there anything you need to attend to today?  Any basic routine that must be followed?"

"Um," Sapnap said, floundering despite the relatively easy questions. "I don't have any scheduled appearances, but I do have to train." 

"You want to do that here or at the castle?" Karl asked, abandoning his stretch to scoop up his napkin and give his lips a few dainty dabs. "There is no wrong answer." 

"I don't want to leave you." That hadn't been what Sapnap meant to say at all, he'd definitely had something else in mind but now the words were out there and he seemed incapable of changing them and he wanted to apologize, the excuse that he wasn't quite awake yet hovering on his tongue, but then Karl's expression softened into an easy smile that took his breath away. 

"I'm not gonna leave you," Karl said, his tone gentle. "If you train at the castle, I can go with you.  I've got plenty of books to read."

He thought about it, about the implication of Karl maybe watching him work out. Of Karl being nearby.  Despite only meeting him yesterday, there was something about it that made Sapnap's pulse race uncomfortably. 

"That's- okay," Sapnap said, because whether it was here or there, if Karl was with him, he thought it could be manageable. "Then maybe I can show you around the castle a little.  But um- is there something you want to do in town first?" 

Karl perked up, a wicked grin pulling at his lips. "I've always wanted to go shopping.  Fancy shopping, I mean.  I wanna get my friends presents.  Oh! And visit proper museums – for art and for history – and I want to see a real performance.  Like- like opera and ballet or acrobats – I write about all this stuff, but I've never really seen it, and I just-" Karl paused, seeming to realize he was rambling, and then his ears drooped somewhat bashfully. "I think it'd be nice to see it, is all." 

Sapnap's heart did that odd squeezing thing again, but he tried not to read into it.  He'd probably eaten too much bacon or something. "I think that's fair," he said, sounding breathless for some reason. "And that's a good list.  I'm sure if we talked to Callahan's butler, he could make an itinerary.  Make sure we didn't miss anything."

And Sapnap would take Karl to all the cool restaurants the royal family had shown him to.  He'd gone on quite the tour when they were still trying to win over Quackity, and he still remembered the places that Eret took Foolish when he was easing him into things, and with Callahan's servants at work, Sapnap knew everything could be handled discreetly.

He could, of course, always ask the assistants at the castle to help.  They would do so in a heartbeat – quickly, efficiently, but Sapnap didn't want to bother them with something so frivolous.  If Callahan cared enough to share his home with Karl, to share it with Sapnap (which still boggled his mind), then his staff likely wouldn't mind helping with this quest.

Hopefully.

Over the course of his response Karl's smile got wider and wider, his ears picking up as a happy flush spilled across the bridge of his nose. "That would be awesome!" he cheered, pumping his fist. "And you wouldn't mind?"

"I haven't gotten much of a chance to look at this stuff either," Sapnap admitted, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "It'll be an adventure for both of us."

"I like that," Karl admitted, gaze going soft again. "I like the idea of our adventures in culturally bettering ourselves."

"Everyone knows the best way to obtain culture is through food," Sapnap boasted, trying to ease the strange tension in his shoulders.

It was nice though, and he felt excited, like he was providing again, and he didn't want to lose that. 

He didn't want to lose Karl.

"Right, obviously," Karl laughed, and that was that.

~:~

They went shopping first.  Actually, they went for their first round of shopping first, because once Karl and Sapnap explained what their intentions were, the butler seemed determined to make them the very best, most thorough schedule in the world. 

“You’ll need to shop for books, of course, that goes without saying,” the butler muttered as he made up his list. “You’ll want the independent shops for that, not the major publishers, but there’s a collection of them all together on the far side of town – that will be one spot for you.  Oh, and for chocolates-”

He arranged for them to have a private tour with one of the most exclusive chocolatiers in the city, followed by a dessert tour, the butler sure that they had a variety of the very best cafes and bakeries sprinkled throughout their upcoming days.  He always listened to Sapnap’s suggestions, adding them without question before gently probing each of them on what they’d like to see, even if this was really for Karl.  They had time planned out for the fabric district, to visit famous boutiques and tailors.  There were toy shops (that Sapnap was looking forward to for his brothers) and carpenters and farmers markets, there was so much Sapnap hadn’t explored and while it was unquestionably indulgent, he couldn’t help but feel that the stories it earned him might make his family happy.

And he liked the thought of that.  He liked the thought of them smiling again, of easing their burdens just a little.

Maybe he could order some stuff for the Wastakens too.  He knew he was supposed to be keeping his distance, but surely he could still get Drista those honey cakes she liked so much, right?  He could send the duchess fruit tarts?  They might have chefs that rivaled or even surpassed what Sapnap could purchase, but he wanted-

No, he shouldn’t put them in an awkward position, but he could- he could get chocolates for his parents.  For Skeppy and Bad.  He could spoil his little brothers.

He still had so very much; he couldn’t forget that.

Instead of the Wastakens, he could get stuff for the Manifolds, and instead of holding onto worries for things he could no longer control, he was going to focus on the present.  He wasn’t wasting time; he was forming connections.  He was moving forward, growing.

Dream – as little as Sapnap was supposed to think about him – wouldn’t want Sapnap to be stagnant.  He wouldn’t want Sapnap to stop living while they were apart.  He’d want him to be happy.

So Sapnap was going to do that.

Callahan owned a chain of clothing stores out of what was likely practicality – the Stardeer particular enough about his own taste in fashion that he simply sponsored designers that made things he liked rather than attempting to brave the more popular stores.  The butler sent them there for their first stop, and while Sapnap himself didn’t need any new clothes, he had a lot of fun picking out things for Karl – watching him try stuff on and giving advice on what his friends might like.  Sapnap himself had a sizeable allowance as a prince that he mostly didn’t touch out of habit, so it was nice to use it to buy new things – soft blankets for his elders’ nests, a cool vest in House Manifold colors for Josh. 

“It’s a montage!” Karl explained, seeming determined to abandon any items the sales team tried to give him that were actually in his size and dedicating himself to only procuring the largest of sweaters. “A shopping montage!  I write about these all the time!”

“Do your montages include you getting pink boots?” Sapnap asked, a small glimmer of inspiration striking in his chest when he caught sight of the cobbler section of Callahan’s shop.  He really did have everything, and enough of it seemed specifically tailored to Karl’s taste that Sapnap couldn’t help but think that this had been yet another present for the bunny hybrid.  Callahan had done all this just for him, just because they were friends. 

He’d done that for Karl while also making sure Sapnap’s closet was stocked with tasteful but subdued cloaks that would help him avoid stray eyes, and even though the store was theirs for the hour, Sapnap couldn’t help but be grateful for it.

There were so many ways to show someone you cared without explicitly saying it, and Sapnap wanted to hold onto that lesson.

He could apply it to his pack too.

“It does now!” Karl cheered, dragging him back to the present. “Come on, come on, come on.”

Sapnap had been half joking, but Karl happily claimed a pair of dapper pink boots for himself.  He also insisted on getting a pair for Sapnap in House Halo black – and maybe it was just a coincidence that they were embroidered with blaze flames, but Sapnap had the growing feeling that it wasn’t. 

There was another pair of boots in Essempi colors.  Tasteful, dignified, worthy of a duke.

Sapnap wondered how many presents Callahan had prepared for George, wondered how often they spoke, how often they saw each other, then promptly abandoned that line of thought.  It wasn’t why they were there.

They sent their packages back to the estate when the carriage dropped them off at their next stop, which just happened to be a museum.  In the capital, there was never really such a thing as having a lull in business, but their odd timing allowed things to be as calm as they could be.  This particular museum focused on the founding of the empire, with galleries that featured their advancements in technology and magic as well as the history of the kingdoms that comprised the empire, the stories of how they were incorporated one by one.  It was nice, and while Sapnap wasn’t one much for studying, he enjoyed watching Karl soak it all in, the bunny hybrid never hesitating to drag him over towards a new exhibit, to point emphatically at things that interested him before babbling through his own excitement.  He never seemed self-conscious about the attention he could potentially drag towards them; he was just living his best life.

It was really cool.  Karl was cool.

“You know, they say there’s a new exhibit,” Karl whispered as he dragged Sapnap down another hall. “I heard some people talking about it while you were drooling over the ancient weapons.  I’m not sure what it’s about though.”

“I wasn’t drooling,” Sapnap defended, feeling his cheeks get hot. “I was analyzing.”

“With your mouth,” Karl giggled, poorly muffling his laugh with the back of one hand. “Anyway, I was thinking we could look at the new wing and then maybe go get lunch, and then better yet, go get dessert, and then we can go to the castle so you can train and not drool all over everything-”

“As I normally do, and have done, because I’m not a drooler,” Sapnap huffed. “This is defamation.  Slander.  You’re slandering me.”

“I’m slandering your slobber – I feel like there’s a poem in that.”

“I didn’t- now it’s slobbering?  I definitely didn’t do that.” It seemed like an unfair escalation.

“Okay, maybe you didn’t,” Karl hummed, giving him a coy look. “Maybe you just looked really cute when you were staring at something you were actually interested in instead of just watching me react to stuff.”

Sapnap sputtered. “I like watching you react,” he defended, his face heating once more. “You’re so enthusiastic.  It’s cool.”

“It is?” Karl didn’t seem to expect that observation, if the odd twitch of his ears was any indication. “Oh.”

An awkward silence fell over them.

Sapnap cleared his throat. “So, this new exhibit?”

“It should be just around the corner,” Karl said. “It’s about another kingdom, I think-”

The answer to Sapnap’s question came sooner rather than later, sooner as in it appeared the moment they turned the corner, and he’d-

He’d forgotten that while this museum covered major historical events, that also included recent major historical events.

It was an exhibit about the fall of Manburg.

Sapnap swallowed hard.  He wasn’t sure why things seemed tense; they’d won the war.  They were heroes, they’d won and they’d come back and George was fine now.

But so many things weren’t.  So many things weren’t and that war was the start of everything going bad.

“Sapnap?” Karl whispered, cozying up to his side. “Are you okay?  You’re shaking.”

“I…” Sapnap’s throat felt thick. “We won; I don’t know why I’m reacting like this.”

“Oh shit,” Karl said, seeming to realize something. “You were part of the forces?  I’m sorry, Sapnap, I wasn’t thinking.  Of course you’re stressed, you took part in a war.”

“But we won,” Sapnap protested quietly.

“It was still a war,” Karl reminded him, and then that gentle hand was in his again and Sapnap found himself getting tugged away, back around the corner.  Karl moved forward with a steady determination, guiding Sapnap with an unyielding confidence until he found a relatively secluded area.  Only then did he pull them to a stop.

He paused, gnawing at his bottom lip as he considered Sapnap, and then he held his arms open wide.

Sapnap found himself almost falling into the bunny hybrid.  Karl was taller than him but lankier, smaller, and with all of Sapnap’s muscle mass the protector very well could have bowled him over.  Karl didn’t fumble though, didn’t so much as shake as he gathered Sapnap close to him, letting out a few comforting purrs.

“It’s okay, dude.  You’re okay, you survived, you did so good,” Karl soothed. “You’re allowed to hurt; you’re allowed to be tired and stressed and shaky. Just- feel what you feel, it’s okay, you’re a veteran.”

“I didn’t even get wounded,” Sapnap said. “I didn’t even lose any packmates.”

Not like others.  Not like the chef George’s brother had lied to.  Not like the many that had to receive letters of condolence from Hannah and Duke Wastaken.

“It was still a war,” Karl hummed. “It was still a terrible, horrible thing no matter how well it worked out for you.  You still spent a lot of time fearing for your life, fearing for your family’s life, spent a lot of time constantly on guard.  Of course it affected you, you’re not a statue, you’re not stone.  It would have affected anyone.”

“I feel like-” Sapnap whispered, heat stinging in his eyes. “That because I’m a war hero, I’m supposed to be better.  They’re looking at me to be better, but I’m not. I’m trying.  I’m trying so hard, but it doesn’t feel like enough.”

“It is,” Karl murmured, nuzzling the top of his head. “I promise it is.  The people that matter know you’re so much more than a symbol.  Trying to reduce you to that – it’s a disservice to you. You’re so full of emotions, Sapnap, so full of life.  You’re better than an idea, than a role model.  You’re better just by being yourself, and right now, you’re hurting.  And it is- it’s your right as not just a citizen of the empire, but as a living, breathing individual- it is your basic dignity to hurt.  To not try and stifle your emotions.  You don’t have to hide them if you don’t want to, just- share the load.” He seemed to coax Sapnap closer. “I’d be happy to help you bear it.”

“Karl,” Sapnap said, and he couldn’t think of anything else but Karl just held him, releasing a few more purrs and grunts and Sapnap shouldn’t do this, not in public, but he wanted-

He just needed a moment.  He couldn’t pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t, he needed to acknowledge it and then try to move on.  Acknowledge the hurt but not let it cripple him.  It would get easier with time, easier with company.  And maybe that company didn’t necessarily have to be Karl, but Sapnap was glad that it was.

He wouldn’t say it aloud though.

~:~

"Sorry about that," Karl said, cutting in after Sapnap had managed to calm himself down, breaking into the conversation before Sapnap could attempt to offer apologies of his own. "I should have listened better.  I knew this museum prided itself on featuring recent events." He still had a careful hand braced on Sapnap's shoulder, something that emanated an easy sort of care most would take for granted. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Me too," Sapnap whispered dumbly, unable to think of anything else.  As tempting as it was, he knew apologizing wouldn't go over well, knew that if he respected Karl he'd have to actually heed the bunny hybrid's words. 

Sapnap was allowed to hurt, it was just hard to allow that vulnerability, even when it was necessary.

"Do you want to call it a day?" Karl asked, his expression holding no judgement. "I wouldn't mind."

"No, I..." Sapnap trailed off, thinking.  There was a certain phrase that perpetuated around his pack that Ponk had introduced to them.  You didn't run on a broken leg.  The same applied to mental wounds, for all that they were harder to judge sometimes.  Still, this didn't feel like a break.  More of a strain than anything else, though he could admit that he was maybe done with being out in public. "Do you want to go to the castle?" he asked, going on instinct. "I still need to train."

"Should you?" Karl asked, more curious rather than rife with incredulity. 

"That's not negotiable," Sapnap said. "I have to maintain my skills in order to keep my protector instincts calm." 

It wasn't about the pressure the people of the empire put on him as a prince – though there was that too – Sapnap found that he was far antsier when he didn't have the opportunity to train for the day.  It would be better to meditate and get some of his pent-up energy out on training dummies than it would be to try and pretend it wasn't something that he needed.

"Okay then." And just like that, Karl was onboard, giving a deft nod as he helped Sapnap off the bench they had commandeered in their effort to retreat from the world. "Show me to your castle, then."

"It's not my castle," Sapnap sputtered, feeling his face get hot as Karl tugged him happily back along the path. "It's Phil's." 

"Phil's," Karl echoed with a giggle. "You call the emperor Phil."

"Sometimes I call him dad," Sapnap muttered, and maybe he should worry about how easily his hand slotted into Karl's, worry about getting recognized holding hands with an unknown hybrid in public when Sapnap was supposed to be maintaining a low profile, but he couldn't.  It was just- it seemed simple with Karl, and Sapnap couldn't lose that. "Or um- alpha."

"Oh," Karl gasped, his voice dropping as they rejoined the usual crowds. "That's- wow, that's so sweet.  That's awesome, Sapnap."

"I'm really lucky," Sapnap said, his heart giving another one of those strange flutters because even though Karl wasn't a protector he seemed to get how important alphas were to their seconds and vice versa.  

"You deserve it," Karl said, so very certain even though he barely knew Sapnap, and Sapnap rode the high that sent his protective instincts on all the way back to their carriage. 

They seemed to arrive at the castle both too soon and not nearly soon enough, Karl oohing and awing appreciatively as they made their approach.

"It's so majestic," he gasped, leaning over Sapnap so he could plaster his face against the window. "I thought I was good at making up architecture, but this is prettier than anything I could have imagined."

"And you haven't even seen Foolish's buildings yet," Sapnap said, allowing himself to puff up with pride. "I'll have them add a tour of those to our schedule.  His stuff is amazing." 

"Oh, I know," Karl turned to face him, seeming not to care in the slightest at how close that may or may not bring their faces together. "I've bought every book that details his work.  The concept sketches, his art collection – we're so lucky that Lord Eret is such a simp for him, it's because of all the Essempi's publishing companies that we get so much of the Head of the Architecture Guild."

"A simp?" 

"Sykkuno again," Karl explained with a wave of his hand. "It's when you're such a big, raging fan for someone that you're reduced to a simpleton.  Like, your brain has no room for anything else."

"Oh," Sapnap laughed. "That fits.  Eret's totally..." He trailed off, blinking, and pressed his mouth together in a firm line, trying to center himself.

Eret was totally a simp. He used to be.

He wasn't anymore though, because he was dead.

"I'm sorry," Karl murmured, leaning back properly so Sapnap could have some space. "I keep activating all the worst tripwires, don't I?" He curled an arm around Sapnap's shoulders and the blaze hybrid leaned into him, swallowing hard. "I'm so sorry for your loss.  Lord Eret seemed like a kickass guy."

"He was," Sapnap giggled, the sound a bit wetter than he would like but still a genuine reaction to Karl's Karl-ness. "He talked to me before he left.  Made a special trip just to make sure he saw me before he had to go because he didn't know how long it would take, and he-" Sapnap's voice caught, but Karl didn't press him, didn't prod.  He let Sapnap take the time he needed, releasing a slow, steady purr that made something in Sapnap settle. "He wanted me to be happy.  Even when others were struggling, even when things were hard, he wanted- he said I deserved to be happy, that I shouldn't feel guilty about it, and I know he wasn't talking about- he couldn't have known, but it- I battle with that a lot, I think.  Because even though Eret gave me such clearly communicated support, it's like..."

"Is it even fair?" Karl offered when Sapnap didn't know how to go on. "Eret meant a lot to you, meant a lot to most of your pack.  Now he's gone and it doesn't feel like you should be allowed to be happy.  Because if you did that, if you moved on, then you proved you could do it without Eret and that feels like a betrayal, like you didn't appreciate him as much as you should."

"Wow." Sapnap blinked, the words slotting into place with a quiet tragedy. "You're good at this."

"I write a lot of books," Karl said, offering him a small grin. "Ultimately, it comes down to the fact that emotions are complicated.  Guilt is hard.  Loss is hard.  These instincts are hard, and they can be difficult to deal with or sort through but in the end, I think it's important to hold onto one thing." He leaned into Sapnap's side, nuzzling his shoulder. "Eret loved you guys.  And based on what little you've described, he loved you a lot.  Loved you enough that he would never want you to hurt for extended periods of time, least of all over him.  Of course it's unreasonable to expect you not to be sad for a while, but I think you can combat any guilt you're feeling with the knowledge that you already have Eret's blessing to be happy.  You do not need it, but you have it.  It's yours, and I doubt he'd ever want anything less for you." 

"He wouldn't," Sapnap sniffed, scrubbing at his cheeks.  No tears had fallen, but the action was grounding, nonetheless. "And I wouldn't want that for him either." 

"So hurt," Karl said. "But know you don't have to hurt forever.  There's no rules, no obligations – you're allowed to be happy and make your packmates happy by extension." 

"Wow," Sapnap repeated, leaning into Karl a bit more. "You might be the smartest person in the world."

"I think the certified geniuses out there might beg to differ," Karl laughed, letting out a few cheerful grunts. "And don't feel too special, I'm definitely using that in one of my future books."

"You should," Sapnap said, feeling no way slighted. "I think everyone could benefit from that conversation."

Like Karl said, grief was hard.  Getting as many tools to help unpack it – especially for those who couldn't afford to contact a specialist like Ponk but could definitely afford a book – well, that was more than worth it to Sapnap.

At that, Karl seemed to get somewhat bashful, his ears drooping beside his head. "Thanks," he murmured. "That's one of my favorite parts about writing, you know?  I'm not the wisest guy, but I feel like I know enough to help people live lifestyles that are mentally healthier for them." He gave a soft shrug. "It's my way of giving back." 

"You're very generous," Sapnap said, and he meant it with utter sincerity, his pulse seeming to race again for whatever reason, but Karl-

Karl just laughed at him. "You're so sweet," he giggled, hiding his mouth behind his free hand. "Like a real prince charming."

"Don't start that up," Sapnap hissed. "You won't believe the number of invitations I get from hopeful ladies just because I have the title of prince.  I helped Quackity out with a noble luncheon one time, and-" He shuddered, thinking of all those hopeful faces.  Sapnap didn't know what was worse, the ones that merely saw him as a pawn to use for their own means or those that were convinced that they'd fallen in love with him, lost to the romantic notion of wooing a prince. "Never again." 

"It must be hard being so terribly charming," Karl drawled, happily snuggling into him as the carriage turned into the private road that would lead them into the side courtyard. 

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Sapnap probed, struck on a sudden impulse. "You're super charismatic and likeable, I bet you're beating them off with sticks back home." He cleared his throat, forcing himself to turn his gaze back out the window. "Do you have a partner back there?  Or um- is romance not your thing, because Connor and Ponk, they're aromantic, which means-"

"I know what it means," Karl said, voice gentle as he generously cut off Sapnap's rambling, seeming to realize that the blaze hybrid wasn't entirely sure where to go. "And no to both of your questions.  I'm not aromantic and I don't have a partner."

"Oh," Sapnap said, a sudden flare of heat building in his chest. 

Were his palms sweaty?  Why were his palms sweaty?  He was a blaze hybrid.

"I'd like one, though," Karl said. "Or several, I think..." His gaze drifted towards Sapnap, and when they locked eyes, his smile widened. "I think it just depends on the hybrids." 

"Oh," Sapnap repeated rather articulately. "That's good."

"Yeah," Karl hummed, and his expression was easy, it wasn't calculating because Sapnap knew calculating, he'd seen it a dozen times over, he just- Karl was just being honest. "I think so too." 

Chapter Text

Karl liked hanging out with Sapnap.

Even before he knew the blaze hybrid was a prince, Karl had been charmed by him, won over by Sapnap’s open disposition and heartfelt honesty, by the emotions he couldn’t help but leak onto his features.  It was no wonder that the royal family didn’t have the blaze hybrid attend functions often – aside from the many hopeful ladies that eagerly threw themselves the prince’s way (not that Karl blamed them) – Sapnap seemed incapable to do anything but wear his heart painfully on his sleeve.  The guy had no poker face, his guilt was as easy to see as his hope, as his hurt, as his small but earnestly felt happiness.

With Sapnap, Karl didn’t have to calculate; didn’t have to worry about ulterior motives.  Even if Sapnap was capable of such things, he was too wounded right now to consider them.

Perhaps part of the prince’s appeal came from undergoing such stark tragedies.  It didn’t seem fair to lose so much in such a short period of time.  It was even more tragic than Karl would have written it because it wasn’t like Sir Dream was dead, he was just inaccessible, and the parts of him that could be reached were actively detrimental to Sapnap, a person who obviously still loved him.  It was both so much better and so much worse because there could be no definite closure.  Instead, Sapnap was taunted by possibilities and left in an awful holding pattern where he simply bided time, the rest of the world slipping past him as he tried to maintain some kind of stability, all with a hope that could possibly never be satisfied.

It was unspeakably sad, but Karl made sure to never pity Sapnap.  It didn’t seem fair to treat his new friend that way.  He wanted Sapnap to be happy, he wanted to contribute to the prince’s life positively in kind, so maybe he’d pitched this all as a distraction, but really, it was for both their benefit.  Karl didn’t like being alone except when he was writing, and with Callahan so busy, it was nice to have Sapnap.  Nice that they could help each other. 

They both benefited, and Sapnap took his task very seriously.  Even after that slight failure of the first day, things seemed to go well.  They’d retreated to the castle for lunch before they moved onto a private courtyard where Sapnap trained.  Karl himself tried to read, and when that failed, inevitably gave into his desire to jot down a quick short story that had burrowed in the back of his brain.  Another one of his favorite parts about writing was the absolute control it gave him.  As the author, he could do anything he wanted.  There were things he couldn’t make happen in real life, but if he wanted to jot down a fun meet cute between, say a dashing magma cube hybrid and a cute and cuddly um- rabbit, definitely a rabbit – hybrid, that was his business and no one else’s.

He'd have to give the magma cube hybrid a very distinct name that wasn’t in any way close to Sapnap’s.  Maybe something one syllable, like Nick.  Make him the son of a count instead of a prince, and the rabbit hybrid could be an aspiring artist who struggled to put enough coins together to buy his paint- and then sweet Nick would find a way to help him make his own paints with flowers and bonemeal and berries because he knew the rabbit hybrid wouldn’t want baseless charity- his name could have multiple syllables, but Karl couldn’t think of anything off the top of his head so he’d just use his own name as a placeholder, that wasn’t weird, he did it all the time-

“Karl?” Sapnap had cut in at some point, looking concerned. “Are you okay?  You look pretty red.”

“Um.” Karl, who definitely hadn’t been writing the big scene where his fictional characters that in no way reflected reality kissed, felt the heat behind his cheeks intensify. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” Sapnap pressed. “Maybe we’ve been outside too long.  That’s it, I’m calling it for the day.  I don’t want you to get sunburned.”

“Aw, Sapnap,” Karl said, hugging his journal closer to him because it was impossible not to be charmed when Sapnap was so straightforward with his care, entirely unconcerned with any trivialities that might keep him from properly looking after his guest.

Despite a few hiccups, that day had been easy, ending with Karl getting sent off in a carriage so he could meet Callahan in time for their dinner reservations at some fancy place where they cooked the food at the table.  The next day, Sapnap was at Callahan’s bright and early to pick Karl up – because he hadn’t forgotten the schedule, he wanted to honor it, and that was what they did.  They went shopping, they tried out nice restaurants, they got cultured with plays and concerts and museums that didn’t feature anything relating to the war.  And sometimes Sapnap stayed over at Callahan’s and sometimes Karl stayed over at Sapnap’s suite in the castle, and every time they’d usually share a couch together, or make an informal floor nest that wouldn’t lead to any declarations that they shouldn’t actually make.

The longing that Karl felt for it – the same longing that he had for Corpse and Sykkuno but could never really act on – was growing harder to shake off.  It was only the rare evening in between where he and Callahan could sleep together (because Callahan had sensed this desire long ago and acted on it in that ruthlessly straightforward way of his, claiming Karl as pack without ever looking back, ever hesitating) that kept Karl from doing anything he shouldn’t have, and as time went on, he only became more and more charmed.

He couldn’t possibly fathom why Sir Dream wouldn’t want to come back to Sapnap.  He couldn’t imagine George throwing years of friendship away out of spite.  He couldn’t imagine not caring for Sapnap, because the blaze hybrid really was just that easy to care for.  To a painfully terrifying degree.  And yet, Karl moved forward without fear.  Kept writing his little story that was slowly but surely spiraling out of control.  He was supposed to be taking a break, supposed to be allowing his creative juices to rest, but if the inspiration was flowing then he wanted to take advantage of it, even if nothing ultimately came of it.  Even if the story was mostly for himself.

“Are you on a good scene?” Sapnap’s voice broke in suddenly, making Karl jerk up from his notebook.  The blaze hybrid was staring at him with a look of subdued amusement, a grin pulling at his lips as he held up the two ice cream cones – one strawberry, one caramel.  Bless the hybrids that invented cold storage and bless the ones who kept inventing new desserts. “Your face is getting all red again.”

“It is not,” Karl huffed, hurrying to stow his notebook back in his satchel, as though doing so would make Sapnap forget this exchange faster.  He hadn’t even been working on anything that involved canoodling – just two fictional characters strolling through the park, their hands brushing against each other.  Before they could make something more of it, it started pouring down rain, forcing them to take shelter, huddled together-

“It’s getting redder,” Sapnap informed him, his voice cheerful as he passed over Karl’s ice cream cone. “Are you always this expressive when you write?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Karl countered with a sniff, his ears flopping as he tried to defend himself. “Look, I don’t know- I’ve never had someone watch me write before.  I don’t usually do it when other people are around.”

“You don’t?” Sapnap asked, seeming interested as they began the quiet stroll back to their carriage.  They were in one of the many grand park areas within the capital, and Sapnap had been excited to get Karl his first taste of ice cream.  Upon trying some, Karl could understand why. “Not even your other friends?”

“They’re distracting,” Karl grumbled, taking another lick of his ice cream.  Soooo good.

“And this isn’t?” Sapnap asked, gently guiding him towards a shadier path.

“I… I dunno,” Karl admitted, because he usually did have trouble writing when he was with company, but here and now- “I’m feeling inspired, I guess, so that makes it easy.  I gotta get the story down before I lose it.”

“Well, I can’t wait to read it,” Sapnap said, smiling wide.  It was an easy thing, as genuine and heartfelt as any of Sapnap’s other declarations, and it made Karl’s heart patter awkwardly, speeding up even though nothing had really happened. “Hey, want to try some of mine?”

“I- oh, heck yes,” Karl said once he realized Sapnap was referring to his ice cream.  He leaned forward, lapping at the free space Sapnap hadn’t touched yet.

Wow, was it good.

“Tasty?” Sapnap asked, amused even though it was an entirely fair response and so very good and Karl was only a weak sugar-holic at the end of the day.

“Better eat yours quick,” Karl warned. “I’m coming for it when mine’s done.”

“Are you?” Sapnap hummed, somewhat playful, and then he was leaning forward, tongue darting out with a quick flick as he scooped up some of Karl’s delicious, treasured nectar of the gods of strawberry goodness.

“Hey,” Karl huffed, hugging his treat closer to himself. “Come on, man, you can get this all the time.  I’ll only be able to get it while I’m here.”

“I think I can fix that,” Sapnap said, leaning back with a chuckle. “Bat your cute bunny eyes at Phil and I’m sure there will be an ice cream parlor built in your village overnight.”

“You think they’re cute?” Karl asked, focusing on just- the exact wrong part of that statement, but at least then Sapnap got as flushed as he felt, which made them somewhat even.

“Um,” Sapnap said, his earlier suave air seemingly abandoned. “I mean-”

“Yeah?”

“Just-”

Yeah? Karl wanted to repeat, but then a crow was flying down between them, making Karl startle back.

Which was an overreaction if ever there was one.  He must have been seeing things, there was no way a crow was actually-

“What’s wrong?” Sapnap asked, and Karl was about to say nothing because nothing was really wrong, and then the bunny hybrid realized that Sapnap wasn’t exactly talking to him.

He was talking to the crow.

The crow that very much existed and was very much still flapping around him, tugging at the prince’s non-descript cloak and attempting to communicate some sort of urgency, like something out of a book.  Karl had heard that the emperor had a mutually beneficial relationship with the crows inside the capital, he just hadn’t realized that the man could actually send them out on missions, assuming that was what this was. 

“What is it?” Karl asked, all thoughts of stories and desserts forgotten.

“I don’t know,” Sapnap admitted, his brows furrowed in concern. “I think it needs me to go somewhere.” The crow cawed as though to confirm this, nodding its head, and Sapnap pressed onwards. “Where?  The castle?”

Another caw, and just like that, they were on their way.

“I’m sorry,” Sapnap said, the prince tugging Karl through the park with a single-minded focus, their ice cream discarded in the closest waste bins. “I can have a carriage take you back to Callahan’s once we get to the castle-”

“If you think you’re leaving me behind, you’re crazy,” Karl declared, adjusting his footing. “I’m your friend and I want to support you through everything, including whatever this is.”

Sapnap didn’t say anything, more focused on running, but the smile he shot Karl – just for a second, a moment, but it said thank you just as clearly as any of Karl’s sonnets, said it straightforward and deep, something Sapnap echoed once they were in the safety of their unmarked carriage.

It was an anxious ride back to the castle, both of them likely getting lost in possibilities for what else could go wrong.  It didn’t seem fair for something else to occur, especially to Sapnap, who had already been through so much.  It didn’t seem just and Karl hated it, hated all of it, but he couldn’t change it.  He could only be present for his friend and hope that would be enough.

The moment they stumbled out of the carriage, the crow was darting into view again, hovering in front of them with another caw before it flew off, showing them the way.  Neither of them hesitated.  Karl’s hand found Sapnap’s and that was it.  They ran off again, darting into the secret passageways and up, up, up the stairs, eventually stumbling out into the royal wing that Karl probably shouldn’t be so familiar with. The crow pushed them onwards, past Sapnap’s suite, towards the areas that held even more vital people until it stopped in front of the bearer’s suite, and Karl had- he’d remembered that because he knew he should probably never go in there, knew he’d never be invited and that was okay, bearers were huge deals and it was kind of crazy how casually Sapnap spoke about them sometimes.

Karl hesitated but Sapnap didn’t, throwing open the doors and charging inside without ever letting go of Karl, dragging the bunny with him.

Which was- no, he should have- but before Karl could protest they were already deep inside, Sapnap throwing open yet another door, the action allowing an onslaught of what could only be the cries of distraught pups to hit their ears.

Karl didn’t really have a chance to analyze that before the pups in question were responding to their entrance.

Or more specifically, Sapnap’s entrance.

“Sapnap!” the crying visage of who could only be Prince Thomas crooned, his face crumpling in relief. “You’re not dead!”

“No, no I’m not,” Sapnap soothed, immediately falling to his knees and throwing his arms out wide, and just like that he had four pups falling against his chest, but Sapnap didn’t so much as grunt at their sudden rush, only curling closer to them as he released comforting rumbles in Protector.

With Sapnap occupied with comforting his brothers, Karl took that time to take in the rest of the scene which was what made him realize they weren’t alone.  Across the room, standing behind where the pups had rushed, were who could only be Lord Ant Frost and Sir Skepfeld, the future Prince Consort of the empire.  Karl checked their dispositions, prepared for the worst because the pups had been afraid Sapnap was dead, but they just… looked relieved.

Was this really the extent of the crises?

"Did someone say I was?" Sapnap asked, voice straining to hide a sudden surge of anxiety as he dragged Karl's focus back to him. "Skeppy, is there a rumor going around or something?"

"Not exactly," Sir Skepfeld – or Skeppy – said.

"You haven't been here!" the small fox hybrid who Karl assumed was Prince Fundy spoke up. "You haven't been here all week, not even at meals or anything."

"And we know that means bad stuff's happening!" Prince Tommy burst again. "And no one tells us anything anyway, because we're babies-"

"You are babies," Sapnap interrupted, his shoulders seeming to slump with relief as he properly settled onto the ground, doing his damnedest to wrap himself around all four of his little brothers. "You're our babies, our precious babies, and we want you to be happy." He let out a deep, comforting rumble of protection that seemed to work on Prince Ranboo at the very least, which in turn made Prince Fundy relax, even if the other two seemed more stubborn. "I'm sorry I worried you.  I should have explained what was going on."

"This is my fault," Karl spoke up suddenly when it looked like Prince Tobias was going to go off on a tangent. "This is my first time in the capital and Sapnap's been showing me around."

"Who are you?" Prince Tobias asked, his gaze narrowed in suspicion. 

He wasn't the only one who was interested, but the other adults in the room definitely hid it better.  Or at the very least, Lord Ant did.

Karl knew the emperor intended for his presence to be a surprise, but if he could help in the moment, bring them some comfort and ease their worries, he felt that was just a little more important.

"I'm Karl," he said with a wave of his hand, the long sleeve of his sweater bundled around his fist like a mitten. "Karl Jacobs-"

"Like the author?!" Prince Fundy burst, excitement pouring out of him in a whirlwind. "Are you him?  Did you write all those books?"

"That's me," Karl said, and he'd been met with a lot of enthusiasm before, but this was the first time he'd been tackled by a group of tiny pups, the four of them seeming to abandon Sapnap altogether in favor of addressing Karl.  

The bunny hybrid acted on instinct, dropping to his knees much like Sapnap had and was immediately swarmed – Prince Thomas and Prince Tobias cuddling together as a united force under his right arm, Prince Fundy coaxing Prince Ranboo forward to take Karl's left.  Sapnap cuddled close to help Karl bear the brunt of their energy, and Karl tried not to get overwhelmed with the rush of happy euphoria that shot through his instincts. 

"I'm um- supposed to be a surprise," he explained, flopping back until he found himself with a lapful of princes – Ranboo and Fundy happily leaning over from Sapnap's legs. "Your dad arranged for it, so you have to act shocked later, okay?"

"We are the best actors," Prince Fundy swore, his tail wagging in a happy blur behind him. "This is so cool, so this whole time he's been gone, he was with you?"

"Yep," Karl said, his cheeks filling with a sudden heat at the sudden look of interest that crossed Sir Skeppy's face, something that shifted into an amused smirk that he didn't hesitate to point at Sapnap who took it with a flush.  Okay, so maybe Karl had been monopolizing the prince's time just a little bit, but Sapnap had been willing. "I'm sorry I hogged him."

"If anything, he hogged you," Prince Thomas sniffed. "If you needed company, you should have come here!  We're much better than Sapnap."

"Hey," Sapnap sputtered. "Weren't you just afraid I was dead?"

"We can care for your safety while still understanding our worth," Prince Tobias offered sagely, giving Sapnap a few comforting pats on the arm. 

"I think you're all equally cool," Karl stepped in, immediately earning a chorus of happy coos and cheers. 

"Could you play with us?" Prince Ranboo asked, voice soft and smile small. "Since we had a trying afternoon?"

"Okay, you scamps," Sir Skeppy huffed, propping his fists against his hips with an expression of subdued annoyance while Lord Ant looked endlessly amused beside him. "You can have a break from lessons this time, but this isn't going to be a regular thing.  You'll have to wait until lessons are over to hang out with Karl tomorrow."

"We can see him tomorrow?" Prince Fundy gasped, his eyes sparkling and wide and Karl understood it now, understood why the emperor had requested his presence.

He knew that there were many that held a fondness for his books, he knew they were entertaining diversions for many hybrids.  He knew, theoretically, that they were loved, but it was different seeing it in person, to see the wonder and appreciation and enthusiasm in turn.

"Yeah," Karl decided, knowing that schedules could be adapted as needed and right now, his instincts said he needed to be here. "If that's okay with you guys."

"We'll have to leave before dinner though," Sapnap warned as he nuzzled the top of Ranboo's head. "We don't want Philza to know we ruined the surprise.  He put a lot of work into this for you."

"Yeah," Sir Skeppy said, clearing his throat. "About that."

He motioned to the crow that was now perched on Lord Ant’s shoulder, the bird letting out what seemed to be a few amused cackles. 

"Okay," Sapnap amended. "I guess maybe we can do dinner too, but just every now and then."

"We will make all your favorite foods," Prince Tobias pledged, and then there was a rush of motion that somehow ended with them out in the royal garden, traversing the private play area Lord Foolish had made just for his youngest pups.  

It was fun.  Karl had never really been on a playground before.  When he'd been the right age to use them he'd been working to provide for his grandmother, and then by the time he actually had energy to spare for such endeavors he'd been too old.  Now though, watching Sapnap and Skeppy play with their younger siblings, going down slides and pushing them on swings, crawling in tunnels and discovering hidden puzzles Lord Foolish had hidden in the decorations – it felt natural.  It was fun, and made a part of Karl – the neglected, hurt part he spent so much time ignoring – ease a little in his chest.  

He was in the middle of playing fetch with Prince Fundy's small fox form (also, how cool was it that one of the young princes was a changeling too – this family really did fit the mold for fairy tale protagonists) when they got company.

Emperor Philza and Duke Quackity landed with grace – both avians having flown down from one of the upper floors.  Fundy actually noticed them, immediately shifting into his larger form and taking off towards his parents with a happy shout.

"Dad!  Dad!  Thank you, dad!" Fundy cheered, tackling the emperor's legs with a happy bark. "Mom, did you know?  Did you know, mom?"

Duke Quackity released a fond laugh, one hand cradling the noticeable curve of his stomach as he leaned forward to ruffle his son's hair. "No, sweetheart, I did not know.  Your dad was good at keeping secrets for once."

The emperor's cheeks heated up in what was an objectively adorable flush. "I thought it would be a nice surprise for all of you."

"And you were right," the duke hummed, redirecting his focus so he could press a kiss to the emperor's cheek.

It was a comforting image.  Happy, loved pups dancing around their feet, two parents gazing at each other with a deep but undeniable love.  It wasn't obnoxious or a production, it simply was, and for a moment, Karl was struck with another urge of wanting.

He used to be better at fighting those off, but he'd come face to face with more of those recently.  

For the sake of his continued survival, he made the distinct choice not to wonder why.

He'd settled that just as he found himself under the chocolate brown gaze of Duke Quackity, the small avian's fondness not dimming even when he aimed it at Karl. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Jacobs."

"The honor is mine, your majesty.  Sties.  Your majesties." And this was- this was why he was such a good writer, he could sound composed and refined when he had time to think about it, but it was harder in the heat of the moment.  He dipped into a quick bow, trying to mimic what Sapnap had done before. "Thank you for the invitation and um- sorry for ruining the surprise."

"The point of the surprise was to raise my family's spirits," the emperor said. "Seeing as you've done just that, I'm more than satisfied."

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Duke Quackity asked. 

Before Karl could respond, the emperor cut in with, "I can send a crow to Callahan."

He said it as though he was intimately familiar with their plans.

Then again, the emperor was a master strategist.  It was likely he'd simply extricated the information based on a series of reasonable deductions.

"You found the schedule in my room, didn't you?" Sapnap asked, wandering up beside Karl while the younger pups got their fill of their parents' attention.

The emperor's smile was unrepentant. "Techno asked your guards about your whereabouts the first full day you went missing."

"They knew where you were the whole time, dude," Sir Skeppy drawled, the pats he gave Sapnap's shoulder halfhearted at best. "You think Phil and Techno would be this chill if they didn't know what was going on?  Do you think Bad would be?  It's like you don't even know your pack."

"I'll admit, I might have um- assumed they were distracted," Sapnap said, giving a few awkward coughs. "Or maybe I'm just super stealthy."

"You're not," Prince Tobias offered cheerfully, earning a chorus of giggles.

And that was how Karl found himself eating dinner in the royal dining room, Callahan on one side and Sapnap on the other.  That was how he met most of the royal flock, though not all were in attendance.  The Manifolds – who were unofficial members due to their connection with Jack – were both absent, Josh at the Manifold Estate and the Marquess attending a political dinner of some sort.  But the other princes were there, as well as Lord Ant.  The other consorts.  General Technoblade was just as massive as Karl imagined him to be but Lord Foolish was even slighter – the totem hybrid mustering small grins whenever he spoke to Karl but otherwise making a valiant effort to hide his own exhaustion.  Lord Wilbur was on his other side, and the two piglin hybrids made a constant effort to keep Lord Foolish involved, leaving the emperor and Duke Quackity to look after each other with a quiet fondness.  Prince Bad and Sir Skeppy were just as infatuated with each other as Sapnap had said they were, and Karl found himself fielding a lot of questions about his books, though mostly there were just compliments.  Plot points they appreciated, things that helped them move forward, that helped tackle issues in their own lives.  And they were- they were royal but he'd helped them, and they let him in as though he were their equal, invited him and Callahan to play dominoes during family time, to drink hot cocoa and watch the pups put together puzzles and it was loud and boisterous and there were so many people but it was so very good.  It was everything Karl ever wanted and it was right there, all in one place.

"I'm sorry," Sapnap said later when he was walking them back to his suite. "My family drama took over our day."

"No, this was awesome," Karl said, letting his awe spill into his tone. "Really, this was- it was super cool.  I don't have a family, but getting to experience yours was- it made me really happy."

"Yeah?" Sapnap said, a subtle sort of prompt, trying to read if Karl was just attempting to make him feel better. "So you don't mind if we keep spending time with them?  Because I can make up excuses, I know they can be a lot-"

"They're great," Karl interrupted. "And I'd be happy to spend more time with them.  That would- I think that'd be nice."

Sapnap didn't say anything for a moment, content to let them linger in companionable silence.

It wasn't until he was letting them into his suite where he spoke up, his gaze fixed on the door. "Yeah," the prince said, his voice soft. "I think it would be too."

Chapter Text

"Are you pleased?" Ant asked, his smile muted for the sake of respectability but no less heartfelt as they watched the pups continue their etiquette lessons with their new teachers, the ones that Philza had thoroughly vetted, who had guards placed on them and their families at a distance, whose servants were under surveillance – there would be no weak points of exploitation, not when it came to their pups, their future, and Skeppy took great comfort in that.

Of course, nothing would ease the pain he felt during those first few classes, watching Fundy as he compared his lessons to those of his brothers, brows furrowed in concern, anxiety clear on his face, but Skeppy had watched Ant banish that with a few reassuring purrs, nuzzling his hair and then Tommy's – Ant wise enough to place the small avian next to Fundy, because no one would dare train him incorrectly. 

Fundy had loosened up in time, and then the newest addition to the castle had taken them by storm, and it was almost as though the targeted attack had never happened at all.

"Phil-dad invited him for me," Fundy had whispered to Skeppy conspiratorially. "He- he cared that much for me." 

"We all love you oodles and oodles, little guy," Skeppy had replied, sweeping Fundy into a hug. "We love you, and only want you to be happy."

It helped that Phil had invited Karl before the event with the old etiquette teacher.  This wasn't reactionary, but planned, and Fundy was clever enough to notice the difference. 

Karl's presence had benefited in more ways than one, of course.  Skeppy hadn't realized how much Sapnap's pain was weighing on him until he saw the blaze hybrid smiling again, eagerly allowing himself to be led around by a spunky brunette. It helped that Karl just happened to be the author of the royal pack's favorite book series (Skeppy included – what could he say, he had a soft spot for orphans getting adopted into loving families), and the quality of his character did not fail to shine through.  Karl was optimistic and supportive and kind, didn't mind at all when Sapnap was summoned back to the castle on an emergency.

(Look, Skeppy might not have talked down the pups as much as he could have – maybe he had been a bit worried about Sapnap himself, okay?  That was the only baby brother he had- or he guessed he'd soon have more – and while Connor was definitely younger than him, the hedgehog hybrid wouldn't allow himself to be mothered the way Sapnap would, so maybe Skeppy'd had some concerns even if he technically knew that the blaze hybrid was okay). 

"Yeah," Skeppy said, bringing himself back to the present. "Karl's been a godsend."

"More like a Callahan-send," Ant continued, releasing a pleased purr under his breath. "Tina wrangled it out of him over tea, apparently.  Callahan stayed with Karl when he'd first manifested his traits." Ant's grin widened. "We know he's solid now." 

"For once, I won't mind him bragging about it," Skeppy said, as though Callahan were an individual with whom he frequently interacted rather than a distant enigma that Skeppy was incredibly intimidated by. 

"I'm glad for you guys," Ant said, bumping their shoulders together.  Now that they were open about their friendliness with one another, Ant didn't hesitate to invite Skeppy to share meals with him, or harmless activities to fill their free time.  Neither of them were ready to brave the public eye, but sometimes they would read books in silence together, or Skeppy would sit, enraptured as Ant gushed about Josh's latest blueprint.  While Ant wasn't really speaking with the young Manifold as his schedule was busy with title hearings and keeping the Infrastructure Guild afloat, that would never stop a big brother of Ant's quality from following Josh's work. 

Things had gotten better in a way that only time could manage, and with each day that passed by, Skeppy breathed a bit easier. 

"Thanks," Skeppy said, as though he hadn't cried that day, so overwhelmed was he by Sapnap's good spirits.  He was like himself again, and Skeppy wanted to relish that.

Back then, he'd turned to Bad whose lips were twisted in a pleased but sorrowful grin, and they'd held each other with an ease they hadn't managed in a while. 

'I miss you,' Skeppy did not say, because he knew Bad wasn't keeping his distance out of choice.  The crown prince was busy, and now that Sapnap was stabilized once more, the Nether Demon could attack his work with increased vigor.  It didn't help that Skeppy wasn't making as many public appearances anymore. 

He still trained, of course.  With the Winter Knight Competition coming up, Skeppy needed to remind the world of his capabilities, that there was a reason he was kept by Bad's side.  That he was worthy of the Nether Demon.   

At some point, some of that would get through his own thick skull.  He hadn't even felt worthy of Bad when he was simply a baron and outstanding doctor, what he was now-

They couldn't change it, and Skeppy didn't think he wanted to, but some things were just hard.

"It's so- better," Skeppy managed to continue, tripping over his tongue. "Karl is the breath of fresh air we all needed."

"Do you think he's a better match for Sapnap?" 

"At this point? Definitely," Skeppy said. "Dream literally can't be there for him and George's so deep in his own baggage that he may as well drown in it.  Karl isn't connected to any of that mess from before, and it's been- it's so good, Ant." 

"You deserve it," Ant said, and before Skeppy might have thought that it was offered out of polite consideration, but now he knew that the cat hybrid actually meant it.  And that just- Skeppy's instincts soared, but he fought to keep himself composed, shaking his head as though to clear it. "Don't get bashful on me now," Ant hummed, seeming to misinterpret the action. "You're so cute when you're humble."

"Ant," Skeppy whined, hoping that his diamond flecks might hide the flush growing on his face.

Ant said a lot of stuff like that now that he knew that they were friends, and it was- Skeppy didn't know if it was devastating or not, but he suspected that it was entirely detrimental to his long-term health.

"Okay, I'll stop poking at you now," Ant allowed, a satisfied grin on his lips. "It isn't fun if it hurts you."

"It doesn't hurt me," Skeppy replied on panicked reflex, the cost of any obvious weaknesses having been detrimental to his existence for so long that he always fought to hide even the possibility of them.  He knew that was something he could discuss with his new papa, but Techno had a lot on his plate, for all that he always wrangled Skeppy and Connor into having lunch with him at least once a week.

"I know we are all noble protectors burdened with separate but important missions," Techno had said at the first meeting. "But it is imperative that we reinforce subconscious sounder bonds so that we remember that we're not alone in this." 

"Tell that to George, please," Connor said, looking as harried as Skeppy ever saw him, which meant that his right eye was twitching a little. "I mean-" He shot Skeppy an apologetic look, the two of them deeply intwined with two people who were at extreme odds right now. "Sorry." 

"Don't be – this is what George needs right now," Skeppy said, building up enough courage to reach over and give Connor's arm a few pats.  It likely should not have been as revolutionary a conquest as it felt, but Skeppy held onto the small wins. "We'll wait for him.  We'll always wait for him."

"He'll see that in time," Techno declared with what Skeppy felt might be unfounded confidence. "For now, we focus on our sounder.  Tell me of your exploits, sons; I want to be regaled with even the most benign of developments."

"You're not my dad," Connor had complained before doing exactly as Techno asked, and maybe Connor had his own baggage too.  Skeppy didn't know him well enough to ask, but perhaps he could now, since they were brothers. 

"So I can do it as much as I want?" Ant cooed with a flutter of his lashes, making Skeppy's heart lurch oddly in his chest, for all that he knew that Ant was only playing. 

Perhaps their new friendship was more detrimental to Skeppy than he'd initially assumed.  There had always been a sort of unlabeled feelings that he had towards Ant, but they had been easy to ignore or dismiss when he'd thought that the cat hybrid did not care for him.  Now that Skeppy was receiving constant positive reinforcement from Ant though, those feelings were getting harder to ignore, to the point where he knew that he would either have to talk to Bad or Ponk about them – but they were both so busy and it didn't seem like there was ever a good time, so for now, he was just ignoring them.  Perhaps if he did it enough, they would go away.  Or he could self-shame himself into restraint.  All were valid options. 

"Within reason, Lord-"

"Skeppy," Ant interrupted the same way he did every time Skeppy tried to use his title, and thus the topic of conversation was safely shifted elsewhere.  The cat hybrid's cheeks puffed out in annoyance as though he knew exactly what Skeppy was doing, and it was just- too cute.  Bad used to do similar things back when he allowed Skeppy to rile him up so easily, but now he mostly responded with looks of fondness.  At least, he did when they were hanging out.

Oh.  That was- yep, the icky feeling was back now.

He must not have kept it off his face as well as he would have liked because Ant adopted a look of alarm, the cat hybrid immediately dropping his voice. "What's wrong?  And please don't say it's nothing.  Just- if you don't want to talk about it with me, that's okay, just find someone you will talk about it with." 

"I- I don't know who that might be," Skeppy admitted, leaning a bit closer to Ant.  It soothed his instincts, making his stomach churn with nausea because such a simple thing probably shouldn't do that. "It's not really something that's- I mean, it could be a problem, I guess, but not one that can be fixed anytime soon."

"Is it grief?" Ant asked, so earnest, just- wanting to help Skeppy, and it burned the golem hybrid that he had been incapable of seeing as much before. 

Skeppy suppressed a flinch. "No, not- it's not like that, just-" He shook his head, looking off to the side.  He may as well come out with it – trying to avoid things was only building it up to be a bigger issue than it actually was. "I haven't been spending as much time with Bad lately, is all.  He's got a lot going on." 

"Oh." Ant deflated, his shoulders slumping as he looked on with sympathy. "Yeah, that's- grandpa and Josh have both been- and I miss them a lot, but I can't imagine..."

What it would be like with someone he was engaged to.  And Skeppy was his own person, he wasn't dependent on Bad to live a happy life, but he missed his partner.  Bad was his pack, his fiancé, and it felt like Skeppy barely got to see him. 

At least Ant was sort of in the same boat. 

"I'm glad Sapnap doesn't have this problem," Skeppy said. "Or- it's not as bad with Karl."

"Yeah," Ant said, voice soft. "And hey, I'm always here for you, alright?  I know it's not the same, but we can always um- cuddle on the couch, if you need it."

They'd done it before, done it a lot after the war when things had been so stressful, Duke Sam asking on Ant's behalf because he didn't want his pup to be alone, but that had always been with the buffer of Bad providing a steady source of heat for both of them. 

Now it was just- and it was a terrible idea, really. 

Stupid.  Dangerous. 

"I'd like that," Skeppy said, because he'd been alone for so long and he needed a pack connection.  He wasn't like Bad, who could live in content solitude.  Skeppy's instincts weren't designed like that. 

Besides, this was natural.  Just a friend thing.  Practically what they'd done before. 

"Great," Ant chirped, perking up.  He offered out his hand. "Babysitters unite?"

"Heck yes, we do," Skeppy agreed, pumping his hand eagerly and not dwelling on the electric shivers it sent through his frame. 

It wasn't- they didn't have to dwell on it.

It would be fine.

~:~

Prime, Ant was tired, but in a good way – a satisfying way.  It was the sort of weariness he used to achieve after long hours at the Infrastructure Guild, and the fact that Ant had replicated the feeling after so long without felt like a triumph.  It's true that his workload had shifted, but his duties were no less vital to the future of the empire.  He'd been given a noble task, and part of him suspected that Sam would be proud of Ant's efforts – no, he was proud from his place in the Beyond Lands, and one day Ant would get to properly share his exploits with his papa, but for now he could work on ushering the next generation forward with confidence and contentment, and that was enough for him. 

Nothing could replace his father's absence in his life, but Ant could admit that his raised mood may or may not be related to the increased connection he'd managed with Skeppy. 

It wouldn't mean anything long term, he knew that, but after the disbelief had settled, he'd been thrilled to learn that he meant as much to Skeppy as Skeppy meant to him.  Or perhaps not as much, but still, Ant wasn't an obligation.  He was wanted, which meant he didn't have to hold himself back as much, which meant Skeppy didn't either, and it had created an ease in their exchanges, a breath of fresh air that they both desperately needed.  Ant still wouldn't be able to occupy the space he really wanted in Bad and Skeppy's life, but he'd spent years making do with what he had, and what he currently cradled in his hands- that wasn't nothing.  He had a good job, and sweet pups to protect- that he had protected.  He had friends and family, and every day the world felt a little less like it would imminently fall around them. 

It was what made his return to Manifold Manor less depressing than it normally might be.  It had taken a bit for Ant to adjust to the estate.  It had been forbidden fruit for so long – a place where his baby felt trapped – and then it had been a refuge for their family, one of the few places they could act like a proper pack, and now-

Now it was empty.  But it was still his baby's home, and his grandfather lived there, and those were the things he held onto.  One day, there would be the pitter patter of tiny feet after Josh got a proper mate, and Ant would get to spoil them rotten, and he would- he didn't know.  Perhaps one day he'd find a partner that would accept him as a peacekeeper, but could he really keep his secret forever?  He now had some of the best protection he could possibly hope for, if he just came forward it could be another bright spot for the royal pack, but then-

Then they might try to force him in with Bad and Skeppy.  It would make sense.  Even if the system for selecting royal heirs had changed, the nobility of the empire was rooted in tradition. For them, it would only elevate Bad and Skeppy's status to have a bearer attached to them, and even if that was exactly where Ant wanted to be, he didn't want to achieve it in such a way.  He cared for them too much.  And if anyone remembered the times Ant had stayed over at Halo Manor without a chaperone, their hands would be all but forced.

So he would just- until they found another partner, maybe.  Or until he found someone else- it wasn't like it mattered now, and anyway, he had other things to focus on.  He just needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

He strolled through the front doors with a bounce in his step.  While he had watched the servants gather to offer formal greetings before, that had been in the company of Sam or Josh.  They were the reason why such a thing had been necessary, so it still threw Ant off guard when they did it when he arrived alone.

"The marquess has left a file of blueprints for your review in the study, my lord," the butler said as the maids worked in seamless tandem to collect Ant's cloak and gloves, another waiting on standby with a fresh cup of icy lemonade because some traitor had ratted out Ant's sweet tooth to someone and now he was pampered shamelessly, which he knew wasn't something he should complain about but it was still odd to be treated so well after living alone for so long.

"You are a Manifold now," the marquess had explained, even though Ant was technically a Frost, a branch family of adopted vassals that his wardship was under. "More than that, you are a bearer, and I will not have you be slighted in any way.  I don't think my instincts could take it so please, indulge this old man."

"Playing the old card, huh?" Ant grumbled, because it was the same way the marquess had gotten Ant to start reviewing his blueprints when the blaze hybrid had thought he was ready for such a thing.  Ant couldn't do it often, and he only looked over things he'd never touched on with Sam (so really, he was just double checking the work of others) but it was a nice way to help his packhead that made use of the talents he had worked so hard to kindle, and Ant did enjoy a puzzle.  He suspected his innate cat curiosity had to do with that. 

"Thank you," Ant said, taking a healthy swig of his drink.  As always, it was perfection. "How long do I have until dinner?"

"It will be ready as soon as you will it, my lord," the butler said, a mischievous glint in his eye.  Damnit, he knew how flustered the overt catering made Ant feel, for all that it was nice to not have to worry about deadlines. "You have plenty of time to get changed – shall I have your maids draw you a bath?"

"I can do that later," Ant dismissed, not wanting to push things back more than he already had.  Besides, a bath would only make him sleepy, and then he wouldn't be able to review the blueprints with the vigor they deserved. "Just give me a few minutes."

"Take all the time you like," the butler gently reminded him.

Ugh, they were all just- ugh.

Ant did end up taking his time, because once he was given permission he could be a bit shameless with it – something he suspected the staff knew.  He changed into more comfortable clothing, allowing the maid to brush his hair and ears, which had initially felt like a pointless endeavor since he'd have to do it again after bathing anyway, but anytime he thought about objecting, his chastisements to the royal pups rang in his ears.  Sometimes you did things simply because you could.  Because you were allowed the luxury of them.  This wasn't something he ever would have considered when living alone, but the maid was right in that it was a good de-stresser, helping him shake off the anxiety of the day and transition into an evening of proper relaxation.  

Even though he was a noble now, he could still eat dinner in his comfy clothes.  If he was alone, they would put on records or allow him to read.  Sometimes, the marquess's information collector – who met with representatives from the Essempi and the Wastakens' information networks – would share the latest, secret news with Ant.  They didn't know everything, but knowledge was power, and they wanted Ant to be equipped in every way possible.  Let it not be said that the marquess was not diligent in his guardianship.  He was still learning how not to be so overprotective, but Ant had spent the last decade with Sam who had never made his protection a secret.  He could admit that he was used to it, and that having such oversight was a comfort.  

He wasn't alone anymore.  He wasn't a preteen who had presented too early, terrified of the world around him.  He was safe. 

Today, Ant felt like simply savoring his food, and then he'd review the marquess’s blueprints, perhaps do some journaling.  He never got into heavy topics (his latent fear of discovery always lingering beneath his skin), but it was a nice, benign hobby that he'd never done before that also helped him distress.  Dinner was sure to feature fish of some kind in one of the courses – either a soup or a crostini appetizer or a nice roast with potatoes – his preferences really did make him a stereotype, but he couldn't help it.  He'd given up all pretense of being grumpy after tasting the quality of the Manifold's food (Sam might have once tried to do regular meal deliveries for Ant but the cat hybrid had put his foot down, preferring to cook for himself or mooch off Bad and Skeppy, to which Sam had responded by providing as many meals at work as possible) – it was far better than anything he could make himself, and he knew Sam would have found his purrs of contentment endearing.

It still hurt to think of the father he'd lost.  Everything he did screamed of Sam's care, but his papa had managed to survive losing his parents.  He'd built up another family, had treasured them, and Ant could do the same. 

He approached the stairs, plan in place – experimentally adding a spring in his step, knowing that it would make the staff smile.  His second sex was somewhat of an open secret among them and they lived up to the responsibility of his care with a polite but fierce dedication.  The least he could do for them was show that they were successful in their endeavors.  He came down the stairs, pausing halfway when he saw that the servants were gathered again for another formal entrance.  That meant that either the marquess was coming back, or-

Ant's bearer senses lit up, spurring his feet into action, and by the time Josh entered the manor Ant was already by the door, breathless with exhilaration.

"Baby!" he greeted, holding his arms open wide.

It was a reflex, but then he remembered- the last time they'd seen each other-

The screaming.  Josh crying, begging- he probably wouldn’t want-

Josh abandoned the servant that was trying to take his cloak and threw himself at Ant, the cat hybrid gladly pulling him close.

"Baby," Ant whispered into bright locks after Josh stooped to tuck his head against Ant's shoulder. "Baby, baby, baby, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Josh muttered, clinging to him tight. "It was awful news."

"But you begged me to stop," Ant said, guilt tearing at his heart. "You begged, and I just kept screaming."

"Ant," Josh began, his voice firm. "It would have been way weirder if you hadn't kept screaming.  I've had enough time to see that now."

"But I've neglected you," Ant said, heart thick in his throat. "You're my baby, and I didn't help you through your grief at all – I just shut down."

"We both lost a dad," Josh agreed. "But you're a bearer that lost their first protector too, and that's- I've done some reading and it- of course that happened. Of course it did, and that you've bounced back some- that's-" He cut off with a sharp inhale, pulling himself back together. "That's everything, Ant."

"Baby," Ant whispered, so very awed and overjoyed that this blaze hybrid had allowed Ant to claim him.  Perhaps this was not a forgiveness he deserved, but that was Josh's choice to make, not Ant's.  All he could do was fight to protect the trust that had been placed in him going forward. He pulled back so he could get a good look at the blaze hybrid, relieved to find him as teary eyed as Ant was. "How have you been?  How is everything?  I want to hear it all."

"Only if you do the same," Josh said, smiling bright as he wiped at his eyes and that was Ant's job, so he leaned forward and gladly did it, cooing and teasing his baby brother until he finally earned some whines. 

"We'll do it over dinner," Ant declared, because he didn't want to push off his baby's sustenance a moment longer. "If you'd like."

"I'd like," Josh confirmed, and it didn't fix everything, but it was definitely a start.

They went straight to the dining room, pausing only long enough for Josh to be relieved of his cloak and satchel. 

"Pre-dinner drink?" Ant teased, because Josh was an acting duke now, for all that the rest of the Awe family was objecting to it.  He needed to act the part appropriately, and that included observing all the basic indulgences. 

Josh shot him an unimpressed glare, though didn't release the grip he had on Ant's hand. "Water, please.  So much water.  I feel like I'm always working." Part of Ant wilted at that, guilt curdling in his stomach, but before he could muster a reply, Josh had kept speaking. "Don't apologize. Yeah, I was- earlier, weeks ago, I was upset, maybe, that I got shoved into all this work while you were- but I know better now," Josh said, giving Ant's fingers a pointed squeeze, holding the cat hybrid's gaze to ensure that Ant had the full weight of his focus. "Your instincts were hit harder than mine, and honestly, it was good to have things that demanded my attention, though I am relieved that George is taking over Dream-sitting duties."

"How was that?" Ant asked, the tension in his body easing as they settled in at the table.  They had been led to one of the cozier dining rooms that Ant preferred when he was by himself, one that featured a small, round table that allowed them to sit side by side without much separation. 

Josh's brows pinched together in consideration, trying to give the question the thought it was due.  Josh wasn't one to speak recklessly – he was careful in everything he did, likely due to his status as the lone Manifold heir for so very long. 

"Odd," Josh settled on eventually. "It was- he was distraught, clearly – angry that they won't release him, but towards me he was just- reassuring?  In a strangely optimistic way." Josh shook his head, though it did not seem to disperse the befuddlement that had settled over him. "It didn't make a whole lot of sense.  He was sad for me, because he knew I missed Jack, but seemed- I don't know- he kept reassuring me that he would fix it." 

That was- huh.

"Yeah." Josh's cheeks colored in a bashful flush. "I didn't get it either.  And back then, I was a bit more- honestly, I still feel scraped raw over it all." He couldn't bring himself to mention Jack's death, and Ant didn't blame him.  He could scarcely articulate Sam's, and he'd only lost one major family member, not two. "And that was- I was with him during the only downtime I had, so I- I cried a lot, and he'd try to soothe me, and just- take care of me without judgement.  I don't really know how to feel about it.  He obviously didn't consider me a replacement for Jack.  He knew I was different, that I was important, and he was very, very careful." Josh gave an odd shrug. "I know I should visit him more, even with George taking over, I just- it's hard." 

"Hey," Ant said, giving Josh's hand a gentle squeeze.  They still hadn't let go, but it didn't really matter.  Ant could always eat with his other hand; his baby was more important than that. "You have to take care of yourself first; Dream would understand that, and he wouldn't hold it against you.  Besides, uh- with George..."

"Yeah." Josh's flush got darker. "Who knows what I might be walking into." 

Ant doubted that George would escalate his relationship with Dream in any way while the blond hybrid was under the sway of his instincts, but the same could not be said for Dream, who was in a state where his impulse control was almost entirely non-existent.  Ant could only hope that they were being chaperoned, but if they weren't, then Josh's decision to proceed with caution was entirely warranted. 

"Now if you need cuddles, you can get them from me," Ant declared, moving the conversation onward and hoping that he didn't sound too terribly possessive.  It was his fault, after all, that he and Josh had been separated recently, but Josh had already forgiven him for that, so Ant would just have to work on forgiving himself in the meantime. 

"Gladly," Josh murmured, his voice soft but rife with fondness. 

It was a balm against Ant's wounds, though there was no hiding the sorrow that lingered in Josh's gaze as well, pushed aside for the sake of survival.  It was quite likely that Ant held the same nuances in his own disposition, that they both would for months to come.  Working through grief was not a linear process, after all. 

They fell into a brief silence after that as the first course was served, their glasses filled with water and a sparkling fruit juice that Ant had taken a liking to.  Josh perked up at the sight of it, sharing a knowing look with the cat hybrid. 

The beverage had, of course, been a result of one of Sam's more harmless experiments. 

"What is this?" Ant had asked, holding up the offered mug with a heightened sense of self preservation, Josh lingering just over his shoulder.

"You wanted bubbly juice!"  Sam cheered, shifting his weight from foot to foot in a clear tell that he'd been awake for at least more than two days. "You asked for it yesterday! Two days ago?  It was something you muttered in your sleep- anyway-" he continued brightly, gesturing towards the glass bottle cradled in his hands. "The container has to remain airtight in order to maintain the bubbles, and the combination of excess chemicals left a bitter aftertaste, so I added more sugar to compensate-"

"Sam, I was sleeping," Ant interrupted, knowing that if he didn't he wouldn't get to herd the duke to his nap couch anytime soon. "I don't even remember saying that." 

"Oh." Sam drooped, the wind knocked right out of his sails, and a drooping Sam was-

"But I'll be happy to try it!" Ant declared, downing the thing while Josh released a choked noise of surprise, and it had- it had been good.

It was too complicated to be mass produced, but Sam had kept a steady stock of strange bubbly drinks for their usage.  Sometimes they helped with upset stomachs.  

Chemistry hadn't even been the man's forte, he just- he wanted them to be happy.

Ant's eyes burned. "I found the recipe for the uh- carbonation," he explained.  He and grandfather had found it in the old Manifold cabin that Eret and Sam had once frequently used.  Ant hadn't been able to stomach staying long, but the recipe had been out on one of the desks.  

Later, he would go back to that place, even if he was certain he would find no answers to whatever had been plaguing Sam there.  According to grandfather, neither he nor Eret had made much use of the cabin since the death of the empress. 

"Thanks," Josh whispered, his throat thick. "It was so- it was weird, but I loved that about him.  I love that he just- he didn't always get stuff, but he always supported us." 

"Yeah," Ant rasped out, and it felt like the floodgates had been released, but in the best way possible, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes, his grip trembling against Josh's own. "No... no judgement.  No- he never even asked why I wanted to hide what I was.  Just- I gave him a half-hearted- about not wanting to be um- forced into marriage or whatever; it was hardly anything, but he never pushed."

"A good protector wouldn't," Josh murmured. "It's your business, Ant.  No one else's." 

"I-" Ant breathed in, sharp. "I just-"

"You don't have to say it," Josh soothed. "You don't have to- and not because you're a bearer and I'm a protector, but you're my brother.  You're a Manifold, and you are loved, and you don't have to face any demons you don't want to, and when you do, I'll be right by your side; I promise." 

"Baby," Ant keened, abandoning the pretense of food to properly hug his brother, reveling in the heat Josh radiated as easily as breathing. "I'm sorry-"

"I already said-"

"No, my- my past," Ant gasped. "It might change how you feel.  You deserve- you should know, but I can't-"

"Literally what did you just say to me?" Josh challenged. "Take care of yourself first.  I understand.  I understand, and nothing would make me love you less unless you're like, secretly Schlatt's righthand man."

"Ew, gross!" Ant breathed, pulling back so he could give Josh's shoulder a light bap. "Don't mention that sicko's name near mine!"

"Then we're good." Josh was smirking as he said it – his goal achieved, and Ant could strangle him and could hug him but mostly he just- he was happy to have his brother here.  To know that he hadn't burned that bridge for good.

Ant swallowed hard. "I... Josh-"

"Oh no," Josh sighed, shaking his head. "You've got that conflicted look on your face, like you're inventing problems."

Ant swallowed a hiss in Feline. "I'm not- I just wanted to say," he began, trying not to lose his train of thought. "That I- I know I can't replace Jack, and..."

He trailed off, mostly because of the expression of absolute confusion on Josh's face. 

"No?" Josh managed. "Of course not.  Ant, you're nothing like Jack." 

It was- well, yeah, but-

"You're both my brothers, yeah, and you're both bearers, but you are just- wildly different," Josh continued, seeming almost offended that Ant had brought it up. "I met you at different times, we have entirely different dynamics-"

"Josh-"

"Jack's a sweet pea and you're a menace," Josh continued. "You fill entirely different and fundamental voids in my life and neither of you could ever replace the other.  Just- Jack could never be you, and you could never be Jack, but that doesn't change the fact that you guys are my brothers and I love you." 

It was- it felt so simple.  Just- easy. 

"You were never a replacement for Sapnap for me," Ant offered, going out on a limb. "Just- I wanted to say that-"

But Josh only brightened. "Exactly! We're both blaze protectors, and we might both be your babies-"

"Josh," Ant hissed, feeling his cheeks flush with heat. "That's the prince-"

"The prince is your baby and everyone with good sense can figure that out," Josh huffed, unperturbed. "We're both special to you, but that doesn't mean that one can replace the other, right?  We're both invaluable."

"Yes," Ant said, reaching over to properly wrap himself around the blaze hybrid. "Yeah, I- I wouldn't trade either of you for the world." 

"And I wouldn't either," Josh said, eagerly leaning into him. "I'm glad we cleared that up."

"Being around Dream sure has made you sassy,” Ant huffed, but he couldn’t hold onto his annoyance if he tried.  Couldn’t even fake it.

Josh choked out a laugh- no, it was more of a cackle. "You reap what you sow, brother," Josh hummed, nuzzling Ant's shoulder. "I got this from you." 

And that was-

Well, Ant couldn't really argue with that.

Chapter Text

Karl thought it would be more intimidating to regularly hang out with royalty, but they fell into a comfortable routine after that first day.  While Karl still had plenty of time with Sapnap alone, their other adventures often received company.  Sir Skeppy would show up on the training field to spar with Sapnap while Crown Prince Bad would lounge next to Karl, chatting with him comfortably and watching the two protectors go at it with a look of fondness.  Some of their visits to shows or a park would include the younger princes, with usually one of their parents and Lord Ant to help chaperone, and it was just as fun as that first day they'd spent in private gardens – something they were sure to repeat.  Sapnap even arranged for Lord Foolish to take them on a tour of some of his more popular buildings personally, and it was a battle for Karl not to start gushing.  The dark bags that seemed to be permanently glued beneath the totem hybrid’s eyes accompanied by smiles that seemed terribly strained at the edges reminded Karl that he was not the only one in search of a distraction, and while the lord consort was willing to provide such a thing, it was important not to push any boundaries.  They were all just trying to do their best, and Karl was proud of the older peacekeeper for making an effort.  He couldn’t imagine how difficult it might be.

The bearers themselves never really left the castle unless it was for an emergency, but somehow Karl ended up spending a lot of time with them as well, getting invited to teatime or being brought in as a consultant as they decorated the future pups' nursery.  Karl had known Lord Consort Technoblade was well-read, but he hadn't realized how much so until they'd visited the library together, and then there was Emperor Philza and his crows, the birds he gleefully introduced Karl to, receiving Karl's oh-so tentative request with an explosive enthusiasm as he gushed about each of his lovelies, each crow puffing up with pride when it got to their turn.

Karl only met Marquess Manifold in passing, but even in their brief exchanges the older blaze hybrid always demonstrated an immense amount of respect towards Karl, even though the bunny hybrid hadn't done much at all to deserve it.  Josh Manifold would often crash the brotherly meals Karl and Sapnap shared with Bad and Skeppy, and even though he seemed exhausted from the political disputes he was haphazardly thrown into it, he was also grateful for Karl's presence.  None of them saw him as a burden or an interloper; all of them were happy he was there.  They didn't even necessarily talk to him about his books – though Duke Quackity had touched on the subject at length once, not seeming to help himself. 

"You look bamboozled," Lord Wilbur noted after a week of this, when Karl was staring dumbly up at the painting Lord Foolish had made on what Karl thought was entirely a throwaway comment that the totem hybrid had taken to heart.  And perhaps it had been in a fit of mania to keep his thoughts occupied on something other than his late mate, but still, it was a full painting.

"I am bamboozled," Karl said with a start, not realizing the feeling he was faced with until it had been pointed out.

"Good bamboozled?" the lord consort asked, wandering over towards him with a look of concern.

Which only further added to Karl's bamboozlement.

"I just-" Karl began, pressing his lips together in frustration. "I guess I don't understand what's going on here."

He didn't understand why they were being so nice to him.  There was surface level politeness, basic decency, there was friendship and then there was whatever this was.  Karl was too afraid to label it, but he liked it a lot.  Liked it with every fiber of his being.

"You're very charming," Lord Wilbur offered in what felt like a complete non sequitur. "You're wondering how this came so easily, right?"

"Right," Karl said, his ears drooping slightly, preparing himself for some sort of attack – not that he thought it would be intentional, but his emotions were- well, emotional. Rationality didn't really play into things.

"I can't speak for everyone," Lord Wilbur began. "But I can say that for me personally, that someone who's capable of writing those kinds of books – ones that emphasize support and love and healthy communication – that's a person that we'd always want around.  Someone who can write about those things with such deep and utter sincerity – that can't be faked, which in itself is a vouch for your character." Lord Wilbur's smile widened. "That's why we trust you so quickly.  And when our pack trusts someone – well, we don't really do things by halves, as you can tell."

"But that's..."

Crazy and wonderful and amazing.

It made Karl want to cry.  To get something that grand when he'd done so very little.

"You deserve it," Lord Wilbur said as though reading his mind. "Is it too much?  Do you need us to back off?  We'd understand, you wouldn't hurt anyone's feelings if you needed space."

"No!" Karl's knee-jerk response was louder than he intended, a surge of terror clawing in his gut at the thought of these lovely fluffle feels suddenly vanishing. "I mean- No, I- I..."

"It's okay." And then there was an arm wrapped around his shoulders, and Karl had somehow come to numb himself out to the fact that Sapnap was a prince so he wasn't really phased when they cuddled or held hands but this was different, it felt different because Lord Wilbur had been such a prominent political figure for so long. "It's okay, no one's going to take it from you.  We want you here."

But eventually, Karl would have to go home.  Eventually, Prince Fundy's birthday would come and pass and the novelty of having their favorite author around would fade.  Eventually, Karl would have to go home to his cozy, but oh-so lonely cottage, and there was no amount of pillows or blankets or flowers that could make him feel the way he did now.

"Hey," Lord Wilbur said, his voice soft but firm, as though trying to break Karl from his thoughts. "That's in perpetuity, you know? That invitation will never fade."

"But that's just because things are hard for you guys right now," Karl said – honest when he likely shouldn't be, but there was something about Lord Wilbur that had him pushing forward when he would normally respect their differences in class and keep his opinions to himself. "When things are good-"

"We'll still want you around," Lord Wilbur said. 'Because you will be part of the things that make them good."

Karl swallowed hard, a sudden heat burning in his eyes.  Was it stupid to want this so badly after he'd been here for barely any time at all?  Did he actually want it, or just the idea of it?  Was he playing out one of his fairytale fantasies?

"You don't have to take my word for it," Lord Wilbur said. "But if you wanted to stay here in the capital, if you wanted to stay with us- I can't guarantee it will be a peaceful existence, but you would be wanted." A nudge, and Karl found himself looking up again, hadn't realized he'd been staring at his feet until he suddenly wasn't.  He was met with a kind, supportive smile. "We have a thing for taking in strays, but that's not why you’re wanted.  You're wanted for you, Karl – for all your joys and all your pains.  For not only the happiness you bring us, but the happiness we can bring you in turn."

There was a chance a few tears snuck from the corner of Karl's eyes, though he didn't try to fight them, trying to breathe through it all instead.

"I don't have a family," Karl whispered, his throat thick. "I just have Callahan."

"And he's a great packmate," Wilbur said. "We'd be lucky to have both of you."

When Karl finally gave into his tears, the piglin hybrid simply held him close, letting Karl cry against his shoulder as he was overwhelmed with the possibilities for more.

"What happened?" Sapnap asked, bursting into the room despite the fact that he was supposed to be at his own lessons right now, which was why Karl had been spending time with Wilbur in the first place. "The crows came and got me – are you okay?"

"I don't want to leave," Karl sniffed into the handkerchief Lord Wilbur had given him.  They were on the couch now, Wilbur's arm wrapped around his shoulders like a comforting shield, and Sapnap had stumbled to a stop before him, crashing to his knees without second thought.  Behind him, Lord Foolish and Skeppy were in the doorway, each armed with their own weapons.

They'd heard Karl was struggling and they'd come running.  They barely knew him.

"You don't have to," Sapnap urged. "Did someone say you did?  Was it the stupid noble council?  We'll talk to the Wastakens – it'll be okay, they can sort it out in no time."

"No, it's not-" Karl ducked his head, embarrassed. "I don't want to leave after Fundy's birthday."

"Oh," Sapnap said, realization drawing over his features.

It was going to be awkward now, Karl realized.  Now they knew how needy he was, and that would ruin the picture they had of him.  He was human mortal instead of a pleasant diversion now-

"Then don't?" Lord Foolish said, sounding confused. "We can set up a more permanent space in Sapnap's suite for you if you'd like, and I'm sure Phil has extra bracelets lying around."

"Actually," Lord Wilbur cleared his throat, though it felt like more of a production than from an actual need, something that was further proved when he took his time reaching into his pocket removing something with a flourish. "I've got this if you'd like it.  Sapnap, would you be a dear?"

It took a moment for Sapnap to scramble into action, confusion lingering until something seemed to click, a flush darkening his cheeks as he accepted the jewelry box from Wilbur.

"This will formally mark you as a friend to the royal family," Sapnap said, easing into a shy smile as he opened the box, turning it towards Karl.  Inside was an elegant but expensive bracelet bearing the Craft family crest.  He recognized it as the one Josh himself wore, and it was- it was a very big deal. "It will give you full access to the castle and full royal privileges.  May I put it on you?"

"This is crazy," Karl sniffed, wiping at his cheeks. "You're all crazy, I could be an insane person."

"Eh, you passed Techno's vibe check," Sir Skeppy said with a shrug, easily adopting the word that Karl himself had taught him without thought, like it didn’t take any effort at all. "If you can sneak something past his instincts then you deserve to carry out whatever nefarious plan you've got."

"So?" Sapnap prompted, looking so very, very hopeful, and he- he wanted Karl too.

This could be a horrific idea.  If it went badly, Karl would have burned bridges with the family that controlled the empire he lived in.

But he didn't want to turn Sapnap down.

"Yes, please," Karl whispered, and if the tears returned when Sapnap fastened that bracelet to his wrist it was because Sir Skeppy and Lord Foolish's cheers were off pitch, obviously, and not because of anything else.

~:~

It wasn't a particularly notable day when things changed.

Things didn't even necessarily change, per se, it was just a notable instance that was distinctly different from any that had preceded it.  Upon hearing that Karl was staying in the capital for the foreseeable future (Karl didn't want to say moving, not yet, didn't want to commit to that sort of permanence even if he really did, he just- he needed to be sure) Sapnap had been both receptive and entirely enthusiastic about helping with the transition, gladly surrendering part of his suite to Karl and bringing Callahan in as a consultant to help decorate.  The Stardeer had taken the news with the same blank expression he always wore, though there was the slightest upturn of his lips which for Callahan was the equivalent of a giant song and dance.  Karl felt bashful in the wake of such expression, but Callahan was quick to wave him off with a roll of his eyes.

‘It will be good to have you here,’ Callahan said. ‘Will you split your time between home and the castle?’

Karl was pretty sure the Stardeer only projected the question to him specifically, otherwise there was the slightest chance that the royal family might object to the phrasing (just a slight one, though, Karl didn't want to get ahead of himself).  Still, it made him flush to think of Callahan's place as home, even if that was what it was.  Karl's cottage was home because it was his – fully paid off and filled with the things he had chosen, but Callahan's mansion deserved the title just as much because it held Karl's family.  

Maybe the castle could be home for him one day for the same reason.  The bracelet decorating his wrist certainly made it seem like a plausible option. 

"Of course," Karl had said in the end, swallowing the sudden lump of emotion in his throat. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

He wasn't going to forget the precious treasures he'd had before just because he had something new and exciting with Sapnap's family.  Karl wasn't ever going to be that discourteous even if he was greatly excited about what the future might bring them.  It was an excitement that grew with the more arrangements he made – letters sent to his publishers explaining the relocation and the new amount of time it would take for his manuscripts to reach them (they were actually the most enthusiastic about his move, if only because it brought him closer to their main office).  There were more letters sent back to Corpse and Sykkuno along with a money deposit so they'd look after his cottage while he was away.  Karl wasn't going to send for anything yet – he had plenty of money to buy new things in the capital, and that was before Callahan and Sapnap started spoiling him, something Wilbur only encouraged.  It wasn't long before he had another set of perfectly perfect rooms in Sapnap's suite, had another cozy den to hide away in – a private writing room.  He had space for Callahan and permission from Sapnap to allow his entrance whenever Karl wanted it, even if Callahan wouldn't entertain a move into the castle anytime soon.  They might be family, and he may be neutral as a matter of habit, but for the sake of appearances it would be better if the Grand Judge of the Royal Courthouse didn't live with the royal family, especially when there were so many active cases surrounding the high nobility nowadays.  Karl didn't know the intricacies of it all, especially without Sykkuno present to eagerly talk his ear off every other day, but he had enough awareness to realize there was something going on that made the royal family tense.

He didn't push though.  It wasn't his place to have those sorts of answers.  He was supposed to be a happy distraction, and he would gladly dedicate himself to that cause. 

A week after he'd established a space in the castle – two and a half weeks after he'd come to the capital – there seemed to be some sort of development.  Not much was said about what it was, but it must have been important if it called away most of the royal family.  Even the bearers had left, which had made Sapnap tense, though Sir Skeppy had bolstered through that anxiety with a broad smile as he demanded Karl and Sapnap's help to distract the younger pups.  This naturally led to them running the small training obstacle course that had been adapted for the youngster's usage – Tommy testing out the strength of his wings by extending his hops and Tubbo channeling his blaze powers to levitate a foot or so up ascending platforms.  Fundy had a course for both of his forms and he made it a personal challenge to finish both courses before his brothers finished the first, and Ranboo seemed utterly content to ignore teleportation practice in favor of climbing around like a happy little squirrel, his tail helping anchoring him in place when he got off balance. 

"You're doing great, bud!" Karl said, hopping along beside him.  He'd started shadowing Ranboo as a matter of practicality.  If the enderman hybrid fell, Karl would be more than capable of catching him, and could jump up to the young pup if he somehow got stuck on an obstacle.  Skeppy himself seemed to have Tommy and Fundy wrangling down to an art, which left Sapnap to coach Tubbo through using his blaze skills, the taller prince ruffling the younger's hair whenever he successfully made sparks. 

"Thanks!" Ranboo chirped, hanging upside with a pleased grin. "I want to be the Secretary of Climbing when I get older.  Do you think I can do it?"

"I'm not sure if that's a position," Karl said, restraining a laugh in favor of a serious thinking face. "You could be an explorer one day though, I think they climb lots of things." 

"That might be nice to do for a while," Ranboo hummed. "Though it would take me away from our family, and I don't think I want that.  I'll figure something else out."

"You've got plenty of time," Karl said, working around a new lump in his throat.  The way Ranboo said 'our family', and he probably didn't mean to casually include Karl, he'd probably just been referring to his family, but the tantalizing thought was there and it made Karl's heart squeeze in his chest.

It was somewhat fortunate then that they were interrupted not long after, Bad strolling into the training area with a small grin on his lips.  He was in one of his more formal outfits, meaning that whatever had gone down was something that required him to make a statement, but his shoulders were relaxed, which meant it had likely ended well.

"Working hard?" the prince asked, and just like that there were four happy pups upon him, all of the younger princes abandoning their trials to rush the prince with happy cheers.

"The hardest!" Tommy declared, his wings flapping in excitement behind him. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's great," Bad soothed, crouching down so he could dote each of them with some easy affection, hair ruffles and head butts and a grand sweeping hug that caught all of them. "Everything's so good, in fact, that we've decided to have an impromptu family picnic out in the garden.  We're all taking a break from our usual schedules to spend time together."

"That's great!' Tubbo cheered, his eyes seeming to glow with a rush of joy. "It's been forever since we've had a picnic together."

"Yeah!" Fundy said. "Not since..."

They all trailed off suddenly, drifting into an awkward silence as one by one, their expressions fell. 

Karl didn't need to be a genius to realize that their last picnic had likely included the missing members of their family – Lord Eret and Lord Jack, even Sir Dream.  

Now they were missing, and there was nothing to be done for it.

"Not since Tubbo manifested his flame!" Sapnap declared, breaking in suddenly.  Karl had been afraid he would retreat into sorrow as well, but he seemed determined to push on, to help his brothers make happy memories.  

Just like Eret told him.

"It's your first family picnic as a full blaze hybrid," Sapnap said, holding out a hand to his younger brother. "Why don't we make it a good one?"

Tubbo wavered for a moment, trapped in indecision. "Mum would want that, wouldn't he?" Tubbo said, twisting his hands together. "It'd make him happy?"

"So happy," Sapnap said, and even if his gaze was tinged with the slightest hints of sorrow his smile was still painfully true when Tubbo returned his hold, the grin only widening as they as a decided to move on.

Just like that, they were off to the gardens, Karl walking hand in hand with Ranboo and Fundy while Bad eagerly listened to Tommy recount the exciting exploits of their training session from the safety of Skeppy's arms.  When they got to the garden the party already seemed to be in full swing – all the royal family and their trusted associates dressed in their finest as they reclined contentedly in the sun.  The only ones that didn't seem entirely joyful were Wilbur and Technoblade who were huddled off to the side in the shade of the trees, sharing a private whispered conversation, Wilbur's expression one of conflict while Techno did his best to console him.

The others allowed them space though so Karl followed their lead, deciding not to ask about whatever had gone down and focusing on trading idle conversation and eating the tastiest of tea snacks.  This was his first time meeting the Wastakens, first time getting to spend a prolonged period of time with Marquess Manifold.  First time seeing Puffy in her formal uniform, and he might have gushed a little while she strutted (might have made fun of Nikki for staring but he only risked that for about a second before the threat of her stink eye made him fear for his wellbeing).  It was a nice afternoon for all that he didn't understand why it was happening, and it continued to be a nice afternoon even when he stumbled upon someone he didn't know.

It was in one of the more private areas of the garden that Karl had discovered through his explorations.  He had ducked off to the side to give himself a moment to breathe, to steady himself before he could get overwhelmed because even if he could do well with people, he was an introvert at heart.  It was how he could live his hermit-like lifestyle without going crazy.  He just needed a break, and when he came upon his company, he was fairly certain that the other hybrid had ducked off to the side for the very same reason.

He was handsome, whoever he was – around Karl's age too, and of course he noticed those things first.  He couldn't immediately tell what kind of hybrid he was because of the clothes he wore, but they were all remarkably expensive and done in Essempi colors.  Karl was familiar with those now due to the number of memorials going up in Lord Eret's honor, but if he’d been doubtful of the connection before, the Essempi house crest embroidered proudly on the hybrid’s shoulder sealed the deal.  The hybrid's outfit was topped off with a cape that was not unlike Foolish's, also in Essempi colors, and it was strange to see on someone so stern, but Karl had other distractions on which to linger.

Such as the awkward staring contest he had accidentally stumbled into.

Right.  Words.

“Sorry,” Karl said, bobbing into a wobbly bow. “I didn’t mean to intrude; I just needed a second.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” the other hybrid soothed, his tone accented and posh, for all that it was elegantly delivered.  This was someone who had been born and raised as nobility, it wasn’t someone who had wandered into it like Duke Quackity. “There’s plenty of space for both of us.” He returned Karl’s bow with significantly more grace. “Though I must apologize for not introducing myself earlier.  I’m George Essempi-Ga’Meres, Duke of the Essempi Duchy.”

Holy shit, it was the youngest duke of the four major families.  Holier shit, he’d ascended into his title after the tragic loss of his adoptive father, shortly after coming out of a coma from his own near-death experience and holiest shit of all, this was Sapnap’s George, the panther hybrid.

There were a lot of things Karl could say in reply to that, a lot of basic defaults he could easily fallback on while his brain was assaulted by an explosion of rampaging thoughts, but instead he went with the first connection that bypassed his filter.

“You’re Foolish’s son!” he cheered, far louder than he intended.  He immediately pressed a hand to his mouth after the fact, as though that could retroactively fix things or stop the heat from flooding to his cheeks.  He braced himself for a familiar look of exasperation (familiar in that the other kids in his village school and his grandmother had never really understood Karl’s eccentricities, and that wasn’t their fault, it just- it hurt sometimes, was all), but instead he was met with a smile.

It was small, distinctly reserved, but there was a distinct easing of tension from George’s shoulders that made Karl realize he’d somehow said the exact right thing.

“Yes, that’s me,” George said, and he sounded- he sounded so proud, so fond, full of love, and grateful that he was allowed to declare Foolish his father.  It was something that made his eyes go a little bit soft, that firm mask of composure he held in place revealing the tiniest of cracks, and it was- it was objectively nothing.

Karl thought it was beautiful.

“I’m Karl,” the bunny hybrid blurted before he could get lost in his thoughts, desperate to maintain the pleasant atmosphere. “Karl Jacobs.”

“Oh.” George blinked, and it wasn’t an expression of surprise so much as a quiet realization.  Karl prepared himself for the familiar question that would follow – ‘the writer?’ George would say, and then maybe he’d say something about Karl’s books- “You’re Callahan’s friend.”

He looked pleased when he said this, just as pleased as everyone else had been when they’d recognized Karl as one of their favorite authors.

“He talks about you a lot,” George explained. “In his way, I mean.  It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

He offered his hand out, and though he seemed a little tired, it was still a genuine attempt at connection, one Karl gladly reciprocated.  He was a little disappointed that George was wearing gloves – fingerless, with some sort of thick padding on the palms – but his grip was firm without being crushing – and he exuded a quiet sort of appreciation that made Karl want to flush as badly as any of the others’ gushing.

“Are you his George, then?” Karl asked, his ears twitching in interest. “One of the few with a solid head on his shoulders?”

“Did he say that?” George asked, delighted. “That’s high praise from Callahan.”

“I know, right?” Karl gushed. “I’ve been wanting to meet you forever, but I didn’t come to the capital until now.” With a start, he realized they were still holding hands, and he released George’s palm with an awkward laugh. “His majesty invited me as a surprise.”

Karl was used to Callahan, who was superbly minimal when it came to outwardly emoting things other than annoyance.  As such, he didn’t miss the slight thread of tension that creeped back into George’s frame at the mention of the emperor, though he suspected that most others would.

“That’s good of him,” George said, so aggressively neutral Karl was left both awed and breathless.  Just as quickly as it was there, it was gone, George refocusing on Karl, something that had his features softening. “Have you been enjoying your stay?”

“I have,” Karl said, his heart twisting painfully in his chest for reasons he didn’t understand. 

He felt like he’d just run a mile despite having done nothing, and there were so many things he wanted to say, wanted to ask, but Sapnap had vented to him in confidence, and Karl didn’t think it was fair to butt his nose in when George and Karl barely knew each other.

So he didn’t jump in the deep end.  He would start at the beginning with George, building up their connection organically.

He cleared his throat, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater to reveal the pretty bracelet he wore everywhere. “I think I’m going to stick around for a while,” Karl admitted, his voice soft. “I don’t have a family outside of Callahan.  I always thought the hustle of the capital would be too much for me, but…”

“They’re a good pack,” George finished for him.  The panther hybrid seemed supportive – if anything, his smile was a little sad, though Karl wasn’t sure why it would be such a way.  No, sad didn’t feel exactly right – wistful.  That was it.  Like George missed it. “They’ll do right by you, just- don’t let yourself get caught up in things.”

“What do you mean?” Karl asked, his analysis abandoned in the wake of the fresh wave of curiosity that overtook him.

“Focus on why you’re here,” George said, not seeming annoyed by the need for clarification. “With royals, there will always be those waiting to strike.  The list of people that will target you simply for your connection to the royal family is endless, even with the recent cleanup efforts we’ve gone through over the past half year.” George sighed. “My point is, if you’re going to do this, you have to ignore everyone else.  Ignore those that might gossip, ignore the newspapers, ignore those that will sneer at you in jealousy or those that covet what you have because they will exist and they will be in abundance, and if you let them, they’ll make your life miserable.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

Karl wasn’t sure what prompted him to ask such a bold question to someone he had literally just met except that it felt artistically appropriate, even if it definitely wasn’t socially adequate or even particularly respectful.

Thankfully, George didn’t look offended. “It’s just something I’ve learned over the years,” he said, and his tone wasn’t clipped, but it wasn’t as kind as it could be either. “I don’t have as much free time as I would like as of late, but a friend of Callahan’s is a friend of my own.” George bowed again, and Karl had been so flustered the first time that he hadn’t really analyzed this, but this was- George was a duke of the empire.  He didn’t have to bow to anyone but the royal family and yet he bowed to Karl, had bowed to him even before he knew who Karl was, all because the royal pack had considered Karl someone who could be allowed in their private space. “If you have need of me, I am at your service.” George straightened. “Though I would suggest against meeting in public.  I’m still solidifying my foothold with the Essempis.”

“Have they been bothering you?” Karl asked, his author’s sense activating at the thought of political intrigue.

George’s expression did not change save for the slightest tensing of his lips. “They’ve been trying,” he allowed. “I would rather not present them any additional targets unnecessarily.”

“Then we could meet in private?” Karl asked. “I’m sure Callahan would be happy to see you.”

At that, the brunette finally earned another one of those tiny, almost-smiles, something that Karl swore then and there he was going to strive to earn more of. “I’d like that,” George said, quiet but with an unshakable honesty permeating his tone. “I think it might be nice-”

“Karl?” Sapnap’s voice predated his arrival by mere seconds, the blaze hybrid striding into their private hideaway with a concerned expression twisted on his features. “Is everything okay?  We can head in if you-” The moment his eyes trailed to George, he cut himself off, words seeming to evaporate into thin air.

“Your highness,” George greeted, tone cool as he dipped his head in the slightest of nods, the most base-level effort he could put forth to show his respect.

Oh.  Okay, that was- huh.

“George,” Sapnap said, the word breathed out in the barest exhale. “Is everything okay-”

“I would keep an eye on him,” George interrupted, but his gaze was on Karl now, Sapnap seemingly abandoned in his world.  The soft, wistful, quietly full of love George Karl had seen but moments ago had entirely vanished and was now replaced with this unforgiving glacier, an icy mask held firmly in place.  His gaze lost none of its intensity, and Karl thought he might shake under the weight of it. “Prince Sapnap, I mean,” George clarified. “His loyalty is a fickle thing.”

“That’s not fair,” Karl said just as Sapnap released a small noise of sorrow.

George’s expression didn’t change. “I suppose he told you his side of the story then.”

“You don’t even know why!” Karl burst. “You never let him explain why-”

Sapnap had to cut ties with his alpha, but George was already cutting in, his expression sharp enough to draw blood from stone.

“I don’t need to know why,” George hissed. “There’s no excuse good enough for abandoning your alpha, not when-” George cut himself off with an angry shake of his head, his gaze drifting between the two of them. “It’s astounding,” he said, the full weight of his ire on Sapnap. “How quickly you move on.”

The words made Karl feel horrifically small, the back of his neck heating as the implication of George’s statement settled in.

“That’s out of line,” Sapnap hissed, his own cheeks coloring in a dark flush. “It’s not like that.”

“Of course it’s not,” George snapped. “Like you didn’t aim that same stupid expression at Dream.” A beat, and then, “Like you didn’t stare at Jack.”

“I didn’t,” Sapnap said, his eyes going wide. “I didn’t-”

“You’re so worthless,” George snarled. “If you hurt Karl, it’s Callahan you’ll have to worry about, not me.”

With that, he deftly turned on one heel, not so much glancing behind him as he started to walk away.  Not asking for permission or forgiveness, his head held high.

“George!” Sapnap called, his tone strangled with grief. “Please, just let me explain.  Just-”

“Sapnap?” And that was Emperor Philza, and Karl glanced at him distractedly but it wasn’t enough to miss George’s flinch, to miss the way the panther hybrid immediately charged out of sight. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Sapnap sniffed, even though it was clear he was fighting back tears. “George is still mad at me – big surprise.”

The emperor sighed, staring in the direction George had retreated. “We’re going to have to sit you two down at some point and clear this mess up.”

“He’s got a lot of stuff going on,” Sapnap defended, and if Karl hadn’t experienced sweet and kind George he might have snapped at the prince, but the fact was that this – whatever it was – wasn’t as black and white as it seemed.  Karl and Sapnap knew where things had gone wrong, and George seemed to be holding to that, his derision dripping like poison at the thought of Sapnap’s perceived betrayal.  It felt like there was baggage there that might be coloring his perception, but Karl didn’t know George well enough to discern that for true, and he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to properly bond with him after all this.

And through all that, despite Sapnap’s obvious pain, Karl’s heart was beating furiously in his chest at the barbs George had thrown out, at comments that likely weren’t true, but when he said Sapnap looked at Karl the same way he looked at Dream-

Maybe Karl liked that.

He hoped he wasn’t getting caught up in the moment.  Wasn’t falling for fantasy over reality.  For the idea of romance rather than what was actually there.  This was complicated, but in the wake of that complication, he decided to hold onto George’s advice.

He needed to remember what he was doing this for.  That was all that mattered.

So he turned to focus on Sapnap – his first friend of the royal flock, the one that seemed to rely on him just as much as Karl relied on him in turn. “Do you want to go inside?  I can say I got tired or something – we could cuddle on the couch.”

“I’m sorry,” Sapnap said, looking dejected at the thought of holding Karl back.

“You don’t need to be sorry for needing time to recover,” Karl said simply. “Besides, I offered.” He turned to the emperor. “Could you pass the news onto the others?”

“I will,” the emperor pledged, his smile easing into something fond. “Thanks for looking after my son.”

“It’s my honor,” Karl said, and he meant it.

Meant it with everything he had.

Chapter Text

"Oh," Ant breathed, looking on the minor catastrophe as it finished shattering apart, his bearer instincts aching with his inability to soothe the obviously fractured pack dynamic.  

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop; he hadn't even needed a break from everyone else.  He'd been playing hide and seek with Ranboo, and while Ant was almost certain that the young enderman hybrid had gotten distracted by one of his brothers and forgotten the game entirely, Ant had intended to do his due diligence until he knew that for certain.  So he'd ducked away from the crowds, intent to track down his little climbing champion, knowing full well that while Ranboo was the tallest of the pups and one of the more adept at climbing trees because of said height advantage, that he was also a clever trickster who liked to fake them out by hiding in the bushes, smart enough to realize that it might be the last place that they looked for him. 

It had been a fun exercise, Ant testing out his pup-detecting senses while there was a gathering of other hybrids nearby to jumble things.  Wounded or distressed pups he could track down no problem regardless of the crowd that might surround them, but perfectly happy and content pups were a different challenge altogether, and Ant relished the opportunity to practice his skills.

Or at least, he had, until he'd accidentally overheard George's generous outpouring of wounded visceral towards Sapnap.  

And now he just hurt.

"Yeah," a voice breathed from beside him, and Ant would have jolted but his stupid bearer instincts knew it was Skeppy.  Knew it because he was a protector whom Ant cared for so much, who welcomed Ant back into his life with open arms. "That was rough." Skeppy sighed, shifting so that their shoulders could bump together. "Guess those letters we've sent haven’t been doing much."

"He's going through a lot right now," Ant said, thinking back on the hearing they'd survived that morning.

"Doesn't make this suck less," Skeppy said, his words accented with a sigh. 

Ant knew that Skeppy was closer to George than Ant himself.  George could have been considered an unofficial member of the Halo pack before this past year, and then after the engagement of the consort trials – well, everything had changed.  Everything became more complicated, and there wasn't much Ant could offer in response.  George had always been perfectly professional with Ant, but there was a wariness that lingered in his gaze.  Back when he was more paranoid, Ant had perceived it as suspicion, thinking that George knew what he was.  

Now, after George had survived a murder attempt from his own brother, Ant understood that George simply had an entirely justified fear of other cat hybrids.  The ones that had been related to him and supposedly the most concerned with his wellbeing had treated him horribly – what was to say that a stranger wouldn't treat him worse?  It hurt to think about, but these were the components that made George who he was.  It had to be kept in mind. 

Skeppy was upset because he couldn't help his friend – one that Sapnap held a torch for, which wounded Sapnap in turn, which wounded Bad in turn, which made Skeppy feel helpless- it was a terrible situation all around.  It made sense for the golem hybrid to resent it. 

Skeppy released another sigh. "Karl's got Sappy," he murmured. "And I think I saw Connor follow after George."

"They need space," Ant muttered – something they both knew but it helped to have it confirmed by the other person, when both of them likely wanted to do nothing more than run after their friends and just- cuddle them better. 

"I can't believe he thinks Sapnap is a flighty second," Skeppy growled. "As though he wouldn't give everything he could to be by Dream's side." 

"I think George just needs to be angry right now," Ant admitted. "He's lost a lot in a short amount of time and has an entire duchy that hates him to look after on top of that.  He's-"

"Yeah," Skeppy interrupted, the heat seeming to leave him as quickly as it had come. "...at least Dream is letting him in." 

Ant swallowed hard, wondering if he should push. "Is Sapnap..."

"He's looking on the bright side of things," Skeppy confirmed, answering the question that Ant hadn't been brave enough to voice. "He's glad that they have each other."

"They need it," Ant said, glaring at the ground for having the audacity to not solve all his problems. 

They all needed someone right now.  It just- it was awful, and time would lessen the sting of the wounds, but getting to that point could be a trial in itself. 

"Wow," Skeppy deadpanned, shifting in a way that drew Ant's focus because of course he did, he always would, his head falling back so he could glare at the sky.  How wonderfully balanced. "This sucks." 

"Yeah," Ant sighed. "I'm sorry, I know it must be hard." 

It was difficult for Ant and Sapnap wasn't even his first baby.  Or- he'd met Sapnap first- it was difficult, but Ant had claimed Josh long before he'd ever had any say with Sapnap.  Bad had been monstrously protective of his little brother, it was a wonder that he'd even invited Skeppy regularly over to their house.  Ant had only made the cut himself by supposedly being a peacekeeper.  Ant's instincts knew that Sapnap had all the care he could hope for compared to Josh, who'd been struggling in his isolation. It was likely why he felt such a more solidified connection with the taller blaze hybrid. 

He wanted to grab George by the shoulders and just shake him.  Wanted to throw the two of them in a room and not let them out until they talked through their differences.  He wanted to storm the Wastaken Estate and hiss Dream back into full coherency.  He wanted-

He wanted to hold Skeppy's hand, much like he wanted to hold Bad's hand, but that was neither here nor there. 

"Well," Skeppy sighed, mustering a weary smile. "It's a bit easier to manage with good company, so thanks for that." 

"Happy to help," Ant said, his chest giving a dangerous twinge. "You're not so bad your-"

"Oh," a new voice said, breaking their privacy with a delicate probe so startling that it was a fight for Ant not to jerk away from Skeppy even though they hadn't been that close to begin with.  He felt his face heat as he turned towards the new company, and was surprised to find a tired Wilbur standing there. "There you two are," Wilbur said, a weary grin pulling at his lips. "Come on, this may be a private gathering, but it's best that you two not be alone without a chaperone.  Never know what any optimistic miscreants might do." 

It was basic advice delivered from an older bearer, and as such, it was a gift to have such consideration, but-

It felt as though the air had been stolen from Ant's lungs as the implication of Wilbur's statement settled onto him.  

It was a nitpick, really.  As two hybrids incapable of reproduction, it didn’t really matter if- well, it could, Ant supposed, in that others might use this opportunity to pretend Skeppy was cheating on Bad or something, but they hadn’t really been alone for long at all.

He knew- Wilbur was just trying to protect both of them, protect the future lord consort, but this was an older bearer, someone his instincts looked up to.  

Someone that implied that Ant was- could be perceived as- a hussy. 

His ears pressed flat against his skull before he could think to stop them, everything getting a bit hazy as he was swamped with consuming wave of despairing humiliation. 

"Oh, sweetheart," he heard Wilbur breathe, a stricken note in his tone, but it did little to stifle the overwhelming sensation of hurt that blossomed in Ant's chest. "You know I- all of us, any of us- no one would think-" He drew closer and Ant didn't move even if he only wanted to run away, wanted to hide and curl in on himself, shift into something small and unworthy of notice so he could just disappear for a bit and not have to deal with the feelings that currently drowned him.  But who was he to deny a bearer, who was he to make a pregnant bearer chase after him, so he held still, allowing Wilbur's approach, not flinching away when the elder braced a hand against Ant's shoulder, trying to convey comfort. "None of us would ever think that, it's just stupid political stuff, and I- I should have worded it better, pregnancy brain is just- I'm so sorry, Ant." Wilbur ended his rambling diatribe with a strained purr – tense because Ant wasn't being pacified the way he should be, the way a peacekeeper would have been, but bearers- they had solidarity with each other.  They were equals and getting a chastisement from Wilbur – while well deserved – still seemed somewhat horrific.  

Maybe it was something Ant could discuss with Lindsay sometime, not that he could really dwell on it.  He just needed to get through these next few moments, remind himself to breathe.  Even if he was hurt, if he convinced his body to relax, they could move on, but he couldn't.  He was trapped. 

Skeppy was engaged and Ant wasn't.  They'd been alone in a secluded area.  They hadn't even thought about it-

"It's okay," Wilbur soothed, coaxing Ant against his side, and the cat hybrid gladly followed, if only so he could hide his face against the Lord Consort's shoulder.  His throat ached from the effort to hold back all sounds, his bottom lip stinging as his teeth latched into it, his jaw tense from the effort. Prime, he just needed to get a hold of himself. "It's okay, it's okay- Prime, the marquess is going to kill me." 

"What's going on?" and that was Bad's voice, which proved to be the final tipping point for the battle with Ant's tears, burning salt escaping from his eyes despite his best efforts. 

"Nothing," Skeppy said, his voice sounding strangely dead.  The tension and muted pain from earlier was gone now, leaving an odd emptiness. "Wilbur just accused us of-"

"I said that was what opportunists would portray it as," Wilbur snapped, a sharp heat to his voice that was a direct counter to the gentle way with which he handled Ant. "And I don't even think it would happen today, but it's not- it can't be a habit.  You have to understand, just because we've carved away the bulk of the assholes doesn't mean the danger is gone.  It just makes whoever's left all that more desperate.  Prime, we haven't even gotten any leads on the damn explosion, of course we have to be careful!" 

Ant's breath stuttered in his chest.  Wilbur didn't have to elaborate for them to know exactly which explosion he was referencing.  The one that led to Sam's death-

"Peace-peace-peace," Bad murmured in that low rumble of his, the one that made his words seem more like an order than a gentle caress that an Overworld hybrid might manage. "It's been a stressful day, your majesty.  I know you're feeling especially protective towards your sounder's pups right now, but please remember, we're all on the same side.  We're all just doing our best." 

"I'm sorry," it was Skeppy that replied first, shame permeating his words. "I shouldn't have- you were only trying to help us."

"You're allowed to feel protective of your friend," Wilbur said, his body seeming to suddenly slump with exhaustion, as though he'd lost all momentum, the adrenaline from the conflict running out on him. "I shouldn't have snapped.  It's been a long day, but I just- I don't want you guys to get hurt.  Not if we can help it." 

Ant wanted to sob out his own apologies, wanted to beg for forgiveness.  He knew better, he did, his papa had trained him to be careful, he'd just- forgotten.  Or he hadn't cared, because why would he? He liked Skeppy, the golem hybrid was his-

But he wasn't.  Skeppy didn't belong to Ant.  Neither he nor Bad were interested in Ant that way, and his instincts needed to understand that. 

It all just felt so unfair. 

"Ant," Wilbur said, a distressed hint to his tone.  The cat hybrid hadn't moved, could barely do anything except breathe in his effort to restrain his grief.  Why did he have to have these breakdowns in public?  He'd been doing so well lately. "Good-good-care," Wilbur tried in Bearer, but that only made Ant hunch in on himself more.  Responding warbles lingered on his tongue, urging to explain.  His ally should know what he was going through, what he needed, but Ant wasn't- he wasn't-

"Perhaps we should give you some space," Bad said, his words barely audible over the clamor of white noise that filled Ant's ears.  Despite the mess of instinct and emotional responses though, it rang clear because that was his peacekeeper, and he was leaving, he might leave, and Ant didn't want him to leave, he couldn't even remember why he was upset in the first place, he only knew that he didn't want him to leave.  Didn't want either of his chosen to go- why would they leave when he was obviously upset?

He found himself ripping away from his ally – the older bearer, he would understand, surely, distressed and sad and angry and frustrated, searching desperately for his chosen and they actually were leaving, what the fuck?  What the fuck did they think- what the- Ant should yell at them, why were they so dumb?

"Hey," he snapped in Bearer, cheeks puffing out in frustration because it was like he had to do everything, he really despaired for his chosen, but they were his messes, and he would protect them with everything he had. "Stay-stay-help." 

At the very least, they had stopped moving.  Ant couldn't really see them through the blur of his tears, but he was almost certain they were facing him.  

His ally gave a light push to his shoulder. "Go on," the older bearer said.

Ant didn't hesitate.  

The protector was closer so he rushed to him first, pleased when the golem hybrid stumbled to meet him partway.  The smashed together in a clumsy tangle but Ant didn't care, because he was getting the cuddles he deserved and where the hell was the other one?

He glared over his shoulder, and the idiot- he really was trying to leave? He needed to train them later or something, but for now, he settled for waving a grabby hand in his direction. "Stay, come, help."

You idiot, Ant did not say.

He could have tact.

The peacekeeper jolted into action, curling around Ant's back, towering over him, and all was well with the world. 

Idiots. Stupid idiots.  But they were his idiots, and he would fight the world for them. 

"Okay, okay, alright," his protector was saying, sounding dazed. "Okay, alright, okay then."

He was so dumb, but Ant was safe with him, secure with them in a way he could be with few others.

He allowed himself to relax into their hold and released the pain that was holding him back, savoring the comfort that was offered to him with a pleased purr.

The rest of the world could wait.

-:-

Skeppy just- did not understand what was happening.

"We need to get inside," Wilbur said, his gaze flicking in a rapid evaluation of the surrounding area, even though it was secure, it had to be secure, Philza himself had cleared out the gardens so they wouldn't have to worry about eyes straying where they shouldn't – it was the empress's grounds, it had to be safe, but Skeppy understood the concern, the worry. Minutes ago, he'd been certain of their safety, and now that certainty was being put to question the same way as everything else, because Ant had made bearer sounds.

And that- Skeppy had never questioned Ant's avoidance towards his second sex language.  It was actually a more common practice than others might think, especially from commoners who had risen up to noble status.  Second sex language was usually reserved for close friends or family, and if Ant had gotten so into the practice of not using it when he'd been alone, of course he'd avoid it out of habit.  He still used Feline, of course, throwing out what olive branches he could, and Skeppy had never thought twice about it.  He doubted any of them had.  Why would they?  It wasn't like they could have yet another hidden bearer in their midst.  One that Skeppy had known longer than he'd known Quackity and Jack combined.  It seemed ludicrous to even think about, but the proof was in his arms, spilling out happy, pleased purr upon happy, pleased purr. 

When he'd first heard those orders in bearer, he'd assumed it was Wilbur.  Of course he had, that was what made sense, and then it was Ant staring at him with pupils blown wide, deep in his instincts and oh so irritated because they were trying to leave when he clearly wanted them to stay and it felt like everything Skeppy knew was a lie, what the fuck?

"What's happening?" And there was Techno – good, dependable Techno, appearing as though summoned by Prime herself. "You look worried."

"I'm bamboozled more than anything else," Wilbur replied, giving his mate's arm a few distracted paths. "We need a clear route to... shit, I don't know where we should go to."

Because it wasn't as though they could enter the Manifold Suite, which was where they might have gone in the past.  That was Ant's nesting territory, and they didn't have permission to enter it now that they understood what it was, not while he was compromised. 

Techno's head cocked to the side, evaluating the situation with the intense consideration it deserved, and Skeppy felt the tension leak from his shoulders.  His papa was here.  Techno might not be able to fix everything in the world, but it was comforting to have another protector to defer to, especially when Bad – his alpha – seemed so out of it.  He was taking this development with less grace than Skeppy, which the golem hybrid hadn't expected.  That wasn't Bad's way, but he supposed bearers affected everyone differently.  The reason why it affected Bad differently was- that was just something he could worry about later.

"Your suite," Techno deduced, nodding towards Bad and Skeppy. "Sam organized stays there for Ant when he could, correct?  That meant he knew the area was safe.  That Ant would be comfortable there." 

"I'll stay to chaperone," Wilbur said, his tone brooking no room for argument. "Get us there, then get Marquess Manifold.  And probably Josh."

"Of course, love," Techno said, not so much as stopping to question Wilbur, seeming to sense the urgency in the air. 

They moved in record time.  Ant was cooperative for the process so long as he was allowed to cling to Skeppy, though he'd reached out to snag Bad's hand before the Nether Demon could wander too far away. 

"Stay," Ant ordered, his voice soft.  His gaze narrowed into a warning glare, though even before they knew he was a bearer, the expression could only ever register as cute. It was like he worried for Bad's intelligence or something, so he had to be very clear with his request. "Help." 

"I- yes, of course," Bad murmured, still seeming in a state of shock.  He followed Ant's prodding for lack of anything else to do, and with that they relocated to the crown prince's suite, to the sitting room that Ant had slept in before the Manifolds had gotten a suite of their own, the room they'd made a bearer sleep in, that an unbonded bearer had- without a chaperone-

Prime, Skeppy was going to have to reevaluate every interaction, review everything- if this ever got out-

"I'll be right back," Techno said as soon as they were all settled, Ant claiming his favorite couch that had his favorite blanket that was actually just one of Bad's old cloaks, the bearer giggling to himself as he cocooned himself in its embrace before more or less climbing on top of Skeppy, settling against the golem hybrid's chest with a happy hum.

"Look," Ant whispered, wiggling the hem of the cloak as he looped it over his head like an awkward hood. "Ours."

"Yeah," Skeppy wheezed out, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. "We can share it."

Ant only cackled to himself, pleased with Skeppy's concession before-

Oh, that was- yeah, that was a face shoved against his scent gland, alright.  Skeppy's brain was just- yeah.  Wow. Yeah.  Okay.

"Ant," Wilbur warned. "Go slow – slow, baby." 

Ant literally just- waved Wilbur off, but at least he turned his head, shifting so he was resting against Skeppy's shoulder rather than trying to become one with it.  If Skeppy weren't so shocked, he was almost certain that he would be facing many physical um- inconveniences at this exact moment. 

"Okay," Wilbur breathed, settled into his own armchair as Bad sat on the other side of the couch. "Okay, that's- what the actual fuck.  Do you think-" His gaze went wide, which was an odd counter to the smile that pulled at his lips. "Sam knew.  That's why- the favoritism, it wasn't because Sam had just- that Ant is his adoptive son, it's because he knew Ant was- so of course he spoiled him."

"What?" Skeppy said, because he hadn't followed. Why would he?

How could he, he was too busy having his entire world turned on its head. 

"Sam," Wilbur repeated, earning a noise of interest from Ant. "Yes, your papa.  He- He had to have known." 

"That-" Skeppy cut off with a blink, shoving his confusion aside to give Wilbur's proposition the proper evaluation it was due.

And he was right, it did make sense.  It was the reason that Skeppy had thought that Ant was Duke Sam's tawdry little secret, after all.  The overprotective, uncompromising nature of the duke that had led to Skeppy perhaps being a bit harsher towards him than he should have been, but he'd just been trying to protect Jack, Jack who'd also liked Sam- and Skeppy hadn't ever thought that Sam had a romantic interest in the blaze hybrid, because he hadn't.  He was just a solid protector that was good at fulfilling his societally-enforced job. 

Prime, Skeppy felt like an idiot.  Duke Samuel had never been competition.  He had only ever been stalwart and true, and Skeppy hadn't registered any of that. 

He could kick himself, but now wasn't the time.  He had a bearer in his arms and his instincts demanded that he take care of Ant's every need – every one that was within the realm of his abilities and authority.  It was dizzying, the rush of responsibility he felt, the compulsion, but he had to keep a level head.  Ant was a bearer, but he'd kept that information to himself for a reason – why?

"It makes the most sense," Wilbur was kind enough to finish, to move the conversation forward so Skeppy wouldn't get lost in his thoughts. "Sam was a creature of logic.  If there was a need not being filled, he would look after it personally." His gaze drifted to the side, staring unfocused into the distance towards something the rest of them could not see. "His sense of responsibility was unyielding like that." 

"Papa," Ant sniffed, holding onto Skeppy a bit more firmly. "Papa gone." 

"Yes, but he loved you so, so much," Wilbur said, his gaze becoming shiny with restrained tears. "He built you a wonderful future, kitten, and we'll do everything we can to help that.  Good-good-good," he added in Bearer. "Love-love."

"Love love," Ant chimed back before nuzzling into Skeppy's shoulder, seeming entirely exhausted by the ordeal.   

Skeppy's throat felt thick with anxiety, the pressure of what he did not know building on his shoulders.  The lack of forward plan left him scrambling – they couldn't do anything that Ant did not want, that was the most straightforward thing.  It was a fundamental truth, but this wasn't something that could be hidden forever.  Surely, Ant had some sort of plan in place, didn't he? Maybe he was one of those hybrids that didn't like romance or sex, maybe he wanted to spend the rest of his life alone.  It went against what society expected of bearers, which might be why Ant had held silent for so long. 

How worried the cat hybrid must have been.  Skeppy wished that Ant would have trusted them to share this burden, but the best way to keep a secret was to never voice it out into the world. 

That didn't make the horrific stone pressing hard in his gut lessen any though. 

They drifted in an awkward silence until Techno returned, Skeppy's mood rising when his papa reentered the space.  He was accompanied by not only the Manifolds, but Ponk as well, who couldn't seem to cut a break, the poor guy.  He probably needed his own therapist at this point, or at the very least a team to assist with their collective issues.

Josh didn't hesitate to cut a path to Ant's side, crouching on the floor next to them. 

"Baby," Ant cooed, reaching out a hand to give Josh a few careful pets, cupping the blaze hybrid's jaw in a clear grounding measure that communicated just- so much love. "Baby good? Baby happy?"

"Baby good," Josh rumbled back in Protector, leaning into Ant's hand. 

"So you knew," Wilbur said, sounding more weary than judgmental. 

"We're his family," the marquess replied, ensuring that the door was locked behind them. "Of course we did."

And they did not share it because it was his will – it was something they had known, but his statement all but confirmed the sentiment, nonetheless. 

"Okay," Ponk began, looking terribly exhausted. "So Lord Frost has always been a bearer – a fact he has chosen to keep to himself." He turned to face the marquess. "I realize that his privacy goes above all else, but there are medical exceptions-"

The marquess scowled. "He has already lost so much."

"Exactly," Ponk said. "He's lost so much.  He lost his main protector, his only protector for years – that isn't something he could bounce back from."

"He has me," the marquess countered. "And Josh." 

"Josh is clearly a pup to him," Ponk said, his voice firm. "And as far as I can tell, your relationship with Ant hasn't improved until recently.  He doesn't have the same rapport with you as he did Sam.  He is- he needed- needs- someone he can derive inherent comfort from."

"Is that why he's clinging to Skeppy?" Wilbur asked. "Since they're friends?"

"That's quite likely the case," Ponk said, landing in one of the extra armchairs with an exhausted thud. "An instinct episode like this was inevitable, we're only lucky that it happened in private." He turned to face the marquess properly. "Do you know why he chose to keep this to himself?"

"You know I won't answer that," the blaze hybrid murmured, a scowl firm on his lips.

"Then perhaps he'll tell us later," Ponk said with a resigned sigh. "There's not much we can do other than wait and see what he wants from there." 

"But-" Skeppy began, tongue still terribly clumsy. "There were times-"

When they were alone, but Ponk silenced him with a look, seeming to know where he was going with it.

"We'll figure out a plan when he comes back to us," Ponk declared.

With that, they waited.

Chapter Text

It wasn't the most comfortable silence – or it wouldn't have been, were it not for Ant.  It was difficult to be tense or uneasy with a contented bearer nearby, and as tired as Ant seemed, there was no denying that he was distinctly pleased.  He kept petting a hand against Josh's cheek, occasionally redirecting to offer Skeppy the same sort of validation with a muted hum.  He drifted, seemingly hypnotized, but did not fall asleep. Skeppy wasn't sure if it was better or not.  It meant he might be coming back to them sooner rather than later, which meant their discussions couldn't be pushed off.  On one hand, Skeppy wanted answers – of course he did, despite knowing that it wasn't really his place to demand them, but on the other, he wasn't sure he was prepared for what those answers may be.

Like most things in life though, his fear could not stop the inevitable and as such, there was little he could do when Ant seemed to shake himself, as though mentally jostling his brain back into action.  The cat hybrid groaned, rubbing at his eyes, then paused, seeming to process the shift in surroundings and additional company they had gained. 

"...did I fall asleep?" Ant asked, sounding terribly confused. "Or- oh man, was I poisoned?"

"No," Josh soothed, seeming just as stricken as the rest of them that such a thing was actually a plausible possibility, a legitimate concern that they had to keep an eye out for. "I wasn't there, but you uh- you had an instincts episode." 

Skeppy hadn't realized how much comfort he had derived from how easily Ant had been cuddling into him until the cat hybrid went terribly tense, setting off almost every Protector panic instinct he had. 

"A um- feline instinct-" Ant began, trying to play it cool, but Josh interrupted him with a simple shake of his head.

The following silence was deafening.

"Ah," Ant began, offering Skeppy a nervous grin. "Sorry." 

"Instincts are shit, kitten, you don't have to apologize for that," Wilbur offered, Techno now standing behind his chair like a comforting vigil. "I'm sorry I set you off."

"You couldn't have known," Ant murmured, ducking his head so he could make a show of smoothing out his hair, though really, he seemed to just be avoiding their eyes. "Anyone else wouldn't have been as affected as I was." 

But a bearer chastising another bearer- that hit harder.  They were rare, and for one to think that they might be failing- it was no wonder Ant had fallen apart. 

"And now I know not to do that," Wilbur said. "Or to be careful if such a thing is needed, do it in private, but Ant-"

"I know," Ant winced, slumping in on himself lightly. "I know.  It's not that I don't trust you, it's just- I've been hiding it for so long- at first it was so I wouldn't get forced into any political marriages." He shot Wilbur a strained smile. "No offense, but I didn't want to marry Philza.  Or Dream, or- you know." 

"I get it," Wilbur said, the smile pulling at his lips tinged with sadness, because it was a fair concern, but it also wasn't, because even if Ant had been open about his second sex, no one ever should have pressured him.  It wouldn't have been right.  A bearer knew who they needed to be with, and that was it.  Anyone who tried to coerce them or force the matter was trash, and they were open to public criticism and ridicule. "So you hid it, and Sam helped you." 

"Yeah," Ant said, staring at the blanket bundled in his lap, the cloak he had been so proud of acquiring earlier. "He was going to- when I was ready, he was going to help me with the whole coming out process, and then he-" Ant inhaled sharply, and Skeppy didn't think, only tugging the bearer close and releasing a deep rumble of soothing support.  It wasn't until the next moment when he realized how inappropriate that was, but in that time Ant was melting into him gratefully, one hand wrapped around Josh's, the other gripping Skeppy. "I'm still trying to- to figure out how to put my life together," Ant admitted. "I didn't- sometimes it's hard to think of tomorrow, let alone beyond that." 

"That is- Ant, that is a perfectly reasonable response," Ponk said, and for all his exhaustion, his voice was as comforting and steady as ever. "It’s hard for any hybrid to lose a protector they've had such a long, established connection with, forget a bearer.  There's a reason why they usually have more than one protector."

"I thought that was to spread the love around," Ant murmured, trying to play at a joke.

Ponk didn't take the bait though, ignoring the deflection for what it was. "It's because bearers are community-centric creatures.  They are designed to interact and thrive with many hybrids.  As much as they boost those that they are connected with, bearers also need those connections in turn to stay grounded and properly thrive and you- you don't really have that." 

"I have-" Ant's throat bobbed in a rough swallow. "There's a shadow guard."

"I'm glad," Ponk sounded entirely sincere as that TNT trap was set off. "But am I correct in assuming that you don't have any sort of emotional connection with that guard?" 

"...I don't," Ant confirmed. "I don't really sense them most of the time."

"Then they're not filling that need for you," Ponk said. "And the Manifolds, while a great pack for you, aren't filling that need either."

Ant released a low sound. "But Quackity-"

"He had pups to ground him," Ponk interrupted. "Pups that were unquestionably his."

Ant didn't flinch, but Skeppy knew what he looked like when he was hiding one, the cat hybrid chewing at his bottom lip.  His new responsibility of nannying wasn't enough.  It helped, but it wasn't enough. 

"You need more," Ponk said. "Your instincts knew that and they found a way to satisfy that need, but we need to develop a proper plan for how you would like to go forward in the interest of your mental health and future success."

“I'm sorry," Ant whispered, and it took Skeppy a moment to realize that the cat hybrid was talking to him. "I'm- I'm so sorry, Skeppy. Bad. I know you guys are already dealing with a lot, and I didn't want to add to that, but I..."

"But they're yours," Wilbur cut in, his voice gentle. "That was why you were mad when they tried to leave earlier.  They're yours."

"I'm sorry," Ant repeated, eyes beginning to get wet. "I'm-"

"Hey, hey, no- you're so good, Ant; you're so good," Skeppy rushed to say, holding him close. "This isn't- you're our friend.  We love you.  Of course we'd be happy to help you – do you know how cool that makes Bad and I look?  That we're trusted by- not that- that isn't the reason why we would-"

Ant barked out a laugh, a single tear slipping down his cheek. "I know," he said, sounding entirely sincere. "I know what you mean."

"Then trust that we'd be happy to help you," Skeppy said. "Forget what anyone else might think.  We'll get George and Duchess Wastaken to spin it in the best way possible.  Just- we'll be okay, alright?  So don't feel bad.  We're all struggling right now."

"Right," Bad said, just- he didn't elaborate, and that was how Skeppy knew something was going on, but the doctor wasn't going to discuss it here. Perhaps not ever, if Skeppy didn't push. "We'd be happy to assist, Ant."

"Then, um- I need-" And ducked his head, this time bashfully. "I need your help, please." 

"That's a great start," Wilbur declared with a clap of his hands. "But now there's another matter we need to discuss."

It was really only Wilbur who could broach the subject.  Wilbur, who was a fellow bearer, who could even have the audacity to try.

Ant was smart enough to connect the dots on his own. "You think I should come public with my second sex."

"I think that if you don't control how it's going to happen, the matter will be taken from our hands going forward," Wilbur confirmed. "I think- we haven't been observing bearer-etiquette with you, and that- it changes things. A lot.  Things that would have put you or our honor into question – it gives a new context, and there are some nobles out there who are thirsty for blood.  Who want more drama.  If you were alone with another eligible hybrid one time-"

"I was careful."

"Not with Skeppy, you weren't," Wilbur interrupted, seeming to suck all the mirth from the room. "And not with Bad.  Nothing's happened, but if just one person saw one instance of that, we would have an issue on our hands, and we need to decide how to address that now."

It was true, of course.  It hurt, but it was true, and they couldn't run from it.  There might be the utmost privacy and security in the royal wing now, but that wasn't always the case, and Bad and Skeppy hadn't always lived in the castle.  Bad still had Halo Manor – he'd been keeping it as an emergency retreat in case something happened and they needed space from the rest of the royal pack – and Ant had visited them there many times.  And Sapnap hadn't always been present during those visits.  Sometimes it had been just the elders, playing cards and catching up, baking cookies (or watching them bake cookies, if they were Bad), and sometimes Niki or Tina might come, but on the majority, it had just been Ant.

Bad had good neighbors, but there were many that walked those streets.  Many who had informants.  There were servicemen and workers, guards, servants, message runners – all they needed was one of them.  It was different with a male peacekeeper – they couldn't be impregnated.  There were different societal expectations.  Even if they had done any funny business, it would have been waved off by the general public as young, healthy hybrids engaging in consensual fun.  No one would have looked twice. 

It was different with a bearer.  Because any isolated moment alone – even if Skeppy and Bad had been courting – could be perceived as an opportunity to- and it shouldn't matter.  If a bearer wanted that, it shouldn't matter, but everyone cared about bearers, and everyone loved a good story.  The news could come out in a dozen different ways – Bad and Skeppy knew and were supportive of Ant's desire to live unobserved by the public for the most part – they were unclaimed protectors.  Bad and Skeppy didn't know because Ant didn't trust them, and how terrible would that be, for the future emperor to not be trusted with that much?  If Bad and Skeppy had known, then Ant's worth as a bearer – which should never be put into question – would be lessened somewhat by the more conservatively minded nobles.  It would drastically alter his pool of future mates – to those that were understanding or those that would see Ant as a floozy, as an easy mark. 

"I- I thought I had been careful," Ant whispered, guilt thick in his tone. "I thought- the shadow guard, wouldn't they count-"

"They would have kept their distance," Marquess Manifold said, his tone full of apology. "It wouldn't be their place to spy on you, only protect you."

"Let's consider our options," Wilbur said. "If we narrow down the possibilities for Clara and George, they could help us determine the best-"

"You think we should get engaged to him," Bad interrupted, his voice painfully neutral.

Skeppy would know, because that was Bad's political voice, and at one time it might have gotten him a bit hot under the collar because it made Bad sound so strong, so competent, and that was an understandable thing for him, but it also seemed terribly out of place here, because these were not strangers.  This was their family, their friends.  They were safe to be vulnerable here, but Bad didn't feel that.  Perhaps it was because a bearer's honor was at stake, but more than that, Ant's honor was at stake, or maybe it was something else, and the fact that Skeppy couldn't be sure what it was made him nauseous.

Wilbur paused, mouth still partly open as he'd been about to say something, the piglin bearer seeming stuck for a moment before he managed to gather himself. "It would be the most straightforward solution, but I wasn't going to-" Offer it, because even he couldn't- Ant would have to be the one to- but Bad had, which was maybe why he'd been so guarded. "We could always pretend it was in the cards.  A secret love affair – Skeppy and Ant went to the same academy and Bad the same secondary school.  Ant is the thread the connects them, and they respected his privacy- perhaps in fear of nobles scorning a mere baron having what most high nobles could not achieve, all commoner or old Nether Lineage born, and then when Bad became crown prince- it's not as though we haven't been busy, there was a war for Prime's sake.  People have-" He cut off with a gasp, taking in a slow, stuttered breath, his lashes fluttering against his cheek in an effort to compose himself. "People have died," he managed to finish. "It would make sense to keep it quiet, just like it would make sense to announce it now to raise everyone's spirits, but just because it makes a nice story doesn't mean it's something you should do." 

"But it ties everything up neatly," Bad countered, his gaze on Wilbur – locked on the piglin hybrid alone, so he couldn't see the way Ant tensed, going painfully still. "It's what best protects all of us, and Ant- we could always get more protectors, someone you actually care for, we would never-"

"No!" Ant snapped, eyes wet, wet, wet, wreaking of pain and Skeppy's rumbles, while quiet, did little to sooth him, adding to the golem hybrid's despair. "No, you can't- you can't marry me, you'd be a laughingstock!" 

That was- there were a lot of things that Skeppy may have expected Ant to say, but that was not one of them.  Of course it wasn't one of them, but Ant hadn't objected to them, he'd objected for them, on their behalf, which was a distinction Skeppy's instincts couldn't have missed if he tried. 

"I... I should have- I should have said earlier," Ant began, staring down at the floor, his gaze unfocused. "You should have known, but I- I presented early."

There was a moment of silence, which was a bit of a comfort because at least everyone else was as confused as Skeppy, and then not much of a comfort at all, because everyone else was as confused as Skeppy.

Just- what was the problem here?  Jack had presented early too, hadn't he?  When he'd transitioned from the Nether to the Overworld-

"How early, Ant?" Marquess Manifold asked – had the audacity to push, likely because he was Ant's most senior, living protector. 

Ant was going to say it either way, that was clear now.  At this point, he just needed to push.

Ant released a quiet noise of sorrow. "T-Twelve," he murmured, hand gripping at his hair. "I was twelve." 

Twelve.

He was twelve- Sapnap had been- been getting into fights at the academy and trying to read every adventure book the library would lend him when he was twelve – Bad had told him that time and time again, and Ant had presented at that age.

He must have been so scared.

No one said anything for a moment.  It was certainly on the early side of things.  Presentations that normally occurred that early indicated that the hybrid was in some kind of danger and needed an edge to protect themselves.  That reflected more on Ant's caretakers and environment than anything else, not him, but he seemed to be ashamed of it. 

"I'm so sorry, Ant," Skeppy whispered. "I'm sorry that whatever you went through- you had to go through it alone.  You must have been so scared." He hugged Ant tight, and decided to push. "Was it your sponsor?"

Ant, dazed, leaned into Skeppy from what seemed to be confusion alone. "What?" 

"Did your sponsor make you feel unsafe?" Skeppy asked. "Or the school?  Was it stress?"

"What?" 

"Presentations differ from hybrid to hybrid," Bad was kind enough to take over, his voice gentle. "But early presentations are generally a survival reflex, a last resort to garner additional protection.  Yours may have triggered to indicate that you were a valued member of society that needed protection, but it- it must have been scary, to go through a presentation heat at such a young age." 

It was terrible to think about.  Unless Ant had found a good doctor to help him on the sly, he would have experienced proper heats from that age around untrusted adults.  That must have been- Skeppy couldn't even conceive how terrifying that was. 

"It was," Ant whispered, seeming dazed. "But- no, it- only dirty hybrids p-present that early, everyone- everyone knows that."

Skeppy didn’t- he didn’t even know what to do with- he didn’t understand-

"That's not true," Wilbur cut in, his voice firm and tinged with supportive Bearer purrs. "That's jealous, old's wives tale nonsense, Ant.  There isn't anything inherently wrong with you, only with those that were supposed to take care of you. Those, we shall destroy."

"Papa already did," Ant sniffed, rubbing at his eyes. "I- but I thought-" He cut off with a wet, rasped inhale, leaning more fully into Skeppy. "M'not dirty?" 

"No, sweetheart, you never could be," Wilbur said, tears gathered in his eyes. "Never in a million damn years."

That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, years of aches and pains flowing from Ant in a pained wail.

It hurt, for all that Skeppy understood it was not aimed at him, that it was not aimed at any of them.  Ant dragged in a ragged breath, body wrought with tension as he clutched onto Skeppy, turning to him desperately for comfort.

The golem hybrid never would have thought of turning him away – not when he was a peacekeeper, and not when he was a bearer.  Ant was his friend.  He had been all but pack for years, but the cat hybrid- he'd always- they just didn't talk about him, and that was mostly Skeppy's doing because he'd thought Ant didn't like him.  That he only liked Bad.  So he'd held it to himself, because they were surviving, weren't they?  They were thriving enough as it was, they couldn't ask for anything more-

But that wasn't the same as living, and Ant's instincts knew that. 

"Let it out," Skeppy soothed, dragging Ant into his lap to allow the cat hybrid to properly mourn the hardships he had suffered over the years, shaking under the weight of stupid, backwards thinking mental conditioning. "It's okay, you can let it all out, Ant. I'm so sorry you were hurt." 

"I-" Ant choked out. "I couldn't- I thought-" He sobbed, so low and tense that Skeppy ached in sympathy, his instincts stricken as the bearer worked through his sorrow. 

It helped that Ant clung to him, clearly seeking comfort from Skeppy, that Josh was there, releasing supportive rumbles as he held Ant's hand.  Skeppy wasn't alone in this, and neither was Ant- he had an entire pack that was more than willing to fight for him. 

"I thought-" Ant rasped, trying to work through the point he so desperately needed to articulate. "That I couldn't- I'd never-"

He sobbed again, but it was enough for Skeppy to understand his meaning, enough to bring a stinging heat to his own gaze. 

Skeppy wasn't sure which low life had filled Ant's head with such nonsense, but it was clear that the cat hybrid had assumed that he would never be able to get married without bringing shame to his future mate.  That he was somehow inherently tainted, and Skeppy knew- he knew now that if Sam had been aware of it, he would have reassured Ant, cleared him of that misconception.  Ant must have kept it a secret even from his papa, must have been carrying this all alone, which was why he didn't have an abundance of protectors and peacekeepers trailing after him the way he should.  He'd resigned himself, and as far as Skeppy could tell, he had never once complained. 

"It's okay," Skeppy soothed, the hand braced between Ant's shoulder blades rubbing a gentle pattern. "It wasn't true, it was never true. You were always enough, Ant.  Anyone would be lucky to have you.  You don't have to be alone." 

Ant sobbed again, his entire body shuddering with it, and Skeppy looked beseechingly towards Bad, confused with his partner's inaction.  The peacekeeper seemed frozen, sorrow clear in his features for all that he remained separate.  Perhaps he was respecting Ant's boundaries, but it had been Ant himself that had demanded Bad stay earlier. Prime, he had been so pleased to be wrapped in Bad's cloak, so delighted- how could the prince doubt-

That was something they'd have to talk about later.  For now though, Skeppy tried to beckon Bad closer, releasing a soothing stream of Protector rumbles. 

"You're so good," he continued, committing to a stream of earnest reinforcements. "You're perfect, Ant, and I'm sorry you had to go through that alone.  It never should have happened, but we're here for you now.  We'll always be here for you."

Ant whined – the tone coming out in Bearer, but it was less wounded and more- overwhelmed, perhaps, but he still clung to Skeppy and that seemed to be enough.

On the other side of the couch, Bad had ignored Skeppy's beckoning, staring at the golem hybrid's hand as though it were a foreign thing.

"Bad," Wilbur said, his voice gentle. "It's okay, you're his."

"Right," Bad murmured, the words seeming to startle him into action.  He shook his head, then tentatively advanced, wrapping a hand around Ant's shoulder. 

The cat hybrid immediately relaxed, aiming a wet, hopeful expression up at the Nether Demon. 

"It's okay," Bad soothed, shifting so that they could hold Ant between them. "We're here for you, kitty.  We'll always be here for you." 

They weren't empty platitudes.  No one would dare, not towards a bearer, and Skeppy found solace in that.  They were still united, still together, even if the future seemed a bit uncertain. 

"As long as you want it," Bad continued. "We are here for you."

And if that didn't set Skeppy's anxiety off again, he didn't know what did.

But that was-

He would have to talk to Bad about it later.

For now though, they would hold together their wounded- the bearer that had claimed them, their friend, and go from there.

-:-

Eventually, Ant passed out, exhausted from working through years of heartache and misconception.  Skeppy wasn't sure if it was a relief or not.  The rest of them lingered in awkwardly, unsure how to proceed.

It was Wilbur that broke the silence, sighing as he dragged a hand across his face. "Just when I thought this day couldn't be any crazier," he said, leaning towards Techno like a wilting flower straining towards the sun.  

"We're all doing our best," Techno offered supportively. 

"Doesn't feel like enough," Wilbur sighed. "It's never- no." He shook his head as though breaking off that train of thought. "No, we're all- considering the circumstances, we're doing- I'm sorry." He offered them all a soft grin. "We are all doing our best, and I won't dismiss our efforts.  Thank you all for being such a lovely sounder." He finished this up with a few bearer purrs, and it helped lessen the collective tension that had built up over the course of another bearer's breakdown, but not entirely.  Even if Ant was in a better place than he was before, when a bearer was hurting, they were all hurting.  It was a simple fact of pack dynamics. 

At the very least, they had a clear strategy for how to move forward.  Progress had been made, for all that it had required sorrow to get there.  It was the perpetual push and pull of these things. 

"We'll leave you to it," Wilbur said, because as the coherent bearer in the situation, it was his place to dictate pack dynamics.

"I'll look into his old sponsor," Marquess Manifold began, a cool steel in his tone, the likes of which used to be such a regular occurrence for the blaze hybrid.  "Ant is just as much an Awe as he is a Manifold, and on Samuel's behalf, I will- this will be seen through."

"He couldn't have known," Wilbur soothed, offering the words most of them had likely assumed, though the reassurance from a bearer did help. "Sam wouldn't have- there was no way he wouldn't have corrected Ant.  Not with- he was so good." Wilbur's voice broke at the last word, the weariness and grief of the situation seeming to finally get to him. "Forgive me, I think I need to retire for the evening." 

"Of course, your maj- mama," Bad corrected when Wilbur gave him a certain look.  Skeppy and the Manifolds offered their bows of respect while Techno guided the pregnant bearer away.

"We'll watch over him while you talk," Josh said suddenly, pinning Skeppy in place with a knowing look. "Leaving you alone with him-"

"Right," Skeppy interrupted, face feeling hot at the implication. It wouldn't assist with any of the issues Wilbur had justly raised.  It might be what his instincts currently desired, but Josh was right.  If it wouldn't be disconcerting for Ant to wake up in a different place from where he'd fallen asleep, Skeppy had no doubt that the Manifolds would have gladly carried the cat hybrid away and left the crown prince and his listless fiancé to stumble through their own issues in their suite alone. The fact that Josh knew that they needed a chance to converse partner to partner from glance alone was- perhaps it was common sense, this was a shock, they hadn't even known Ant was a bearer-

Yes, it was to be expected.  There was no judgement in this, surely. 

"Thank you," Bad said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.  He stood patiently, waiting off to the side as Skeppy carefully transferred Ant into Josh's waiting care. Had the brunette not leaned so easily into his brother, Skeppy wouldn't have been able to convince himself to leave.  But Ant was- he was fine, and Marquess Manifold was by the door, and everything was as okay as it could be, all things considered.

Skeppy shared a nod with Josh, his instincts feeling settled by the slight action. It was protector commiseration, an inherent understanding of pack needs.  Skeppy respected Josh's place in Ant's life, would never refute it, and to have the bearer's brother acknowledge and respect him in turn was- well, he'd have to ask if Bad was similarly affected, or if his position as a peacekeeper made him immune to such things.  

"Come," Bad said, a soft prompt, and he didn't wait for Skeppy before retreating deeper into their suite.  He was clearly more thrown by this affair than Skeppy had anticipated, but then again, he and Ant had been close friends for longer than Skeppy had managed.  His friendly correspondence with the cat hybrid was a recent development, but that was not the case for the Halos.  Sapnap could very well be just as thrown off, but it would be different.  Now that Skeppy dwelled on it, he could see that Sapnap was a pup in Ant's eyes.  He already had a blaze baby brother; it wouldn't be a stretch to have two, if his feelings were cooperative. 

Dozens of half-formed thoughts flitted through Skeppy's mind as he followed his fiancé all the way back to their private sitting room, the one just outside their resting chambers.  The fact that they had not utilized their bedroom in itself – their most private and sacred of spaces – Skeppy didn't know what that meant, other than the fact that Bad didn't want any potentially negative ramifications to taint their space.  He was being careful, and Skeppy would be appreciative for that, were it not for the odd behavior that Bad had demonstrated up to this point. 

"Bad," Skeppy began, throat closing before he could manage to get anything else out.  He wasn't entirely sure how to continue, only that his instincts left him torn.  His partner was hurting, there was a wounded bearer who claimed him in their suite.  Sapnap was probably crying down the hall in his own suite, and who even knew what George was doing.  His pack was fractured, something that struck at his crystal core.  Gems were meant to be together in a lovely array – their brilliance made stronger and more dazzling to behold when combined.  Splintering apart like this – it ached.  He had become used to a solitary existence, but once he was spoiled with pack, it was hard dealing with it in this broken state.

Hard when Bad, the rock upon which he had come to so heavily rely, seemed to be drifting away from him. 

"I'm sorry," Bad whispered, a weary sorrow clear in his tone. "What you need from me right now, I can't give it to you, and that's not- it isn't your fault, this is just-"

"A lot," Skeppy finished, and for all that the anxiety did not ease any, some of the tension dripped from his shoulders with the knowledge that whatever Bad was feeling did not entirely spurn from Skeppy.  The counter to this, unfortunately, was that Skeppy was still unaware of what the problem was when he really should be.  He was- between the two of them, Skeppy was the one that had always pushed, that had always pursued.  He'd worked at Bad's defenses until he could get the Nether Demon to realize he was sincere and now it felt as though he was starting from the beginning all over again.

'Do you regret it?' Skeppy wanted to ask. 'Regret me?' 

Skeppy knew that Bad would abandon his crown in a heartbeat. The power that came with being the future emperor held no appeal to him.  He'd accepted for Sapnap, even if the designation had been arbitrary at best, granted because he was the elder brother and proven to be reliable.  Back then, Skeppy had thought that Bad would do all he could to find another suitable candidate, but so far, he hadn't.  Skeppy had assumed it was because they were busy- well, that was clearly the case.  There really was no other reason for it, and now Bad was presented with yet another hurdle that would keep him from escaping the noose around his neck.

Perhaps that was what Bad resented more than anything else.  Perhaps every time he adjusted, he came to terms with things, tried to think of a plan to escape that future responsibility, they were hit with yet another bind that kept them in place, adding to his frustration.  It was a strong possibility, though it still twinged Skeppy's heart to think that while this could be Bad's experience, it was a burden he had not inclined to share with Skeppy.

Then again, Skeppy hadn't told him about the diamonds he'd been paying to his sponsor.  It was a wound so old, a routine so embedded in him, that he hadn't really thought to question such things.  It hadn't been worth mentioning.  Before, they hadn't had the power to fight it, and then they had- or Bad did, but things had gotten busy and Skeppy didn't want to taint his name, didn't want to burden him with something so comparatively small when there were poisonings and political attacks and kidnappings going on left and right.  Skeppy had not shared his plight, but that didn't mean he didn't trust Bad. 

He had to give his fiancé the same benefit of the doubt. 

They stood in silence for an undefined period of time.  Skeppy had no way of knowing how long it was. His entire attention was on Bad, who seemed to be doing what he could to pull himself together, taking in slow, meditative breaths.  Part of Skeppy longed to curl around his partner's back, to offer him some rumbling reassurance, but the Nether Demon's frame was rigid with a tension that indicated that such things would cause him to lash out more than relax, his defensive instincts heightened and acting in full capacity, so Skeppy could only wait.  With a painful knot forming in the center of his chest, he waited. 

It felt like an eternity before Bad straightened, though when he did, his political mask of neutrality had slipped back into place, and it just- it hurt.  Skeppy felt a familiar heat building in his eyes, but he ruthlessly shoved it away.  They were all doing what they needed to in order to get by.  The joy that they had felt this afternoon – such moments were fleeting things.  They'd have to build them up over time, use them as tools against-

"Do you trust me?" Bad asked, only the slight gravely tinge to his voice betraying any emotional turmoil. 

Skeppy didn't hesitate to respond. "Of course." It wasn't a question, not really. "To the moon and back." 

The saying was nonsensical – who was to say how far away that distant orb was from the solid earth beneath their feet anyway?  For all they knew, it was scarcely further than the northmost tip of the continent, but still, it had never failed to bring a smile to Bad's lips, no matter how small.

Except for this time.  There was the slightest quirk of Bad's lips, but his gaze was tinged with an obvious sorrow. 

"I trust you too," Bad replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "You have to know that.  I know you've sensed that I- I haven't- that there might be things- but if I haven't shared them-"

"It's for a reason," Skeppy finished, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved by that or not.  He would have continued to deliberate the matter, but then he earned his first genuine smile of the afternoon and- well, things got a bit easier. 

"I need you to keep trusting me," Bad said. "It isn't fair, it's not, and if I could spare you it-"

"Bad," Skeppy interrupted, because this was- it was the same conversation they'd had back when Bad had first accepted his hand in courtship.  Bad had rebuffed him back then, and at first Skeppy had assumed that he was afraid of opening his heart to the possibility of love, that Bad couldn't afford that vulnerability in the cutthroat world of the capital, and then he began to suspect that it was related to something else. 

Back then, Bad had accepted Skeppy, but only under the condition of his unyielding and unwavering trust.  Skeppy, so smitten that he had overcome his own aversions to vulnerability, hadn't hesitated to agree.  They all had their needs when it came to this sort of stuff, and maybe this was just a facet of Nether culture he didn't know.

Now, he was beginning to realize that had been an incorrect assumption. 

"To the moon," Skeppy repeated, knowing that his answer would never change. 

Bad's smile wavered, his own gaze glowing with the hint of restrained sorrow. "We need to end our engagement." 

Oh, that was-

Oh. 

The overwhelming shock of the situation kept Skeppy from lashing out on impulse. It hurt, he wanted to demand- but he had promised.

He had promised, and Bad had always known what he was going to ask, and Skeppy was never going to deny him, because he was Bad's partner.  If the Nether Demon could tell him, he would.  If he could not ask Skeppy to do this, he would. 

But he needed to, and Skeppy needed to trust him.

Skeppy took a few moments to compose himself, slowly breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.  It wasn't enough to stop the tear that leaked from the corner of his eye, but it was more than nothing. 

"And needs you," Bad said. "His instincts may have claimed me, but if I deny him firmly, he will settle with you." 

"Okay," Skeppy said, because it didn't get more straightforward than that. 

"Maybe-" Bad's voice broke, and her jerked his head to the side, turning so that he was facing away from Skeppy. "One day, perhaps we could- but for now, this will keep you safest." 

'Safe from what?' Skeppy didn't ask, because if Bad could tell him, he would. 

Prime, was there another problem lingering in the distance that they didn't see?  Bad hadn't been like this since-

"I love you, Skeppy," Bad continued, shoulders hunching slightly. "I love you so much." 

"I love you too," Skeppy said, his voice just loud enough to be heard.  There were no other platitudes that needed to be offered.  What could be spoken, was.  They could only regroup from here. "The engagement-"

"You'll have to- I should not ask-"

"Just do it," Skeppy begged, wishing that Bad could be direct with him. 

"Ant needs to declare me a brother," Bad continued, a weary resignation in his tone. "He's the only legitimate reason we have for ending our engagement.  It's only natural to defer to a bearer."

But Skeppy would have to be the one to ask Ant that, even they had only just become friends, and Bad-

"That was why you kept your distance," Skeppy whispered, everything coming to him now. "To have a plausible-"

"I do not want things this way," Bad interrupted. "I don't, but it's for the best, and it- no one else can know-"

"Prime, Bad," that time, Skeppy didn't fight his tears.  It was one thing to- but to pressure a bearer, to get them to keep something private- it would make Skeppy scum, for all that Ant might understand.

"I'm sorry," Bad said, his voice cracking.  No doubt tears now flowed freely down his face, and Skeppy could not jump in to wipe them away. "I'm so, so sorry." 

If Skeppy pushed, he would have every right to demand answers.  Bad would have no ground to deny him, if he asked.

But Skeppy couldn't do it.  It just wasn't in him. 

"I'll do it," Skeppy whispered, because it wasn't like he hadn't considered himself trash for longer than he cared to admit. "I'll do it, because he'd do it for you."

But it would make them both look like assholes.  Ant, a bearer who lusted for his friend's- and maybe that was why he'd kept it to himself.  It would line up- and Prime, Skeppy hated that he could think of the story they could sell so easily when his engagement was falling apart before him and he didn't even know why. 

"I love you," Bad repeated. "But you have to trust me." 

"One day, I hope you'll trust me too," Skeppy said, and though he regretted the words the moment he said them, he couldn't find it in himself to-

They were both hurting now. 

Part of Skeppy wondered with Jack's absence if they'd ever really stopped. 

Chapter Text

The journey back to their suite was made in a blur, Sapnap scarcely aware of their surroundings so much as the furious pounding in his chest as Karl gently coaxed him through the halls he now knew like second nature.  It should astound him how quickly Karl had acclimated, how eagerly he seemed to latch onto Sapnap as Sapnap had done to him in turn.  Karl already knew his way around, was guiding them back to their suite because it wasn't just Sapnap’s anymore, part of it had been given to Karl, part of it was Karl's, and for all that Sapnap had only known the bunny hybrid for two or so weeks, Karl felt like a desperate necessity, and Sapnap couldn't imagine living without him.  

Perhaps he'd committed too hard to Karl's suggested plan of distraction, to the point where Sapnap had managed to forget, just for a little while, the trials that hounded their existence.  Managed to forget about Dream who didn't want him, or George who was disgusted by him.  Sapnap had been sending the panther hybrid letters, had somehow managed to restrain himself to only sending them out once a week, but aside from that he'd had no contact with George since he'd woken up.  He knew the panther hybrid was busy from how little he'd seen Connor around the castle, the hedgehog hybrid seeming to step in as George's second in command.  At least, that's what he was doing when he was in the capital, though he was occasionally sent on scouting missions, forever and always hunting down the elusive secondary kidnapping location Jack had been taken to.  While most of them were certain at this point that the blaze hybrid was dead, none of them would be able to move on until they knew for certain.  Sapnap only hoped that when Dream finally received that news that he didn't go completely feral.  Hoped that perhaps the grief borne by the rest of his packmates might be enough to bring him back.

Sapnap had managed to distract himself from all that, but seeing George again – coming face to face with him entirely by accident – it had been hard enough without the conversation that followed.  Sapnap had known he was there – Bad had warned him of that much, had said George would be arriving later with Skeppy, and it was going to be Sapnap's chance – they were in neutral territory, both of them surrounded by allies – and then it had gone horribly wrong.

Or maybe it had just gone as expected.  Devolved the way it was always going to because George was one of the most stubborn people Sapnap knew.  He held grudges for longer than any could ever possibly conceive, held them as a firm line of defense for his heart because George had been raised to expect such pains from his biological family, and that he regarded Sapnap with the same displeasure- of course it was hard.  This was all hard, and Sapnap had been stupid to forget it.  To think that time might be enough to soften the rough edges of George's ire.

Sapnap was distantly aware of Karl leading him into the sitting room between their own private spaces, the one they ended up sleeping in more often than not.  Just that morning, Sapnap had been considering how to broach the subject of sharing a bed, of cementing their bond as family.  He was afraid of going too hard too fast, even though it felt right to his instincts. 

It still did, even considering his recent conversation with George. 

"Are you okay?" Karl asked, settling beside Sapnap on the couch he’d fallen onto on instinct, hand automatically going for the pillow Karl seemed to prefer and hugging it close.  Karl's scent was mild as a peacekeeper and as such he didn't use scent blockers, and it was both a bane to Sapnap's self-control and a wonderful surprise in the world of nobility where most were so very conservative, where sharing the scent they'd been given seemed distasteful, or blocking it like a grand display of status because only the truly wealthy could afford to regularly purchase scent blockers.

"It wasn't as bad as last time," Sapnap said instead of 'I've been better', because he still felt so numb from the experience that he wasn't sure he could articulate his feelings on the matter without bursting into tears.  Oh, so maybe there was some despair in there. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Karl echoed, confused and perhaps a bit incredulous, not seeming to understand why Sapnap was apologizing in the first place. "You didn't do anything wrong.  In that exchange," Karl clarified before Sapnap could interrupt. "You didn't do anything wrong; it was George that went on the offensive."

"I dragged you into things though," Sapnap said. "If I wasn't so close to you-"

"You're allowed to be close to people," Karl interrupted, his voice gentle but unyielding, seeming like a slight chastisement for Sapnap apologizing for things that didn't actually require an apology. "That isn't a crime."

It wasn't, Sapnap knew, he just also knew that it wasn't that simple.  He'd wanted it to, he'd pretended it was, but George had shared less than an hour with them to know the truth and the panther hybrid didn't shirk away from it, just like he never did.

Sapnap looked at Karl the way he'd looked at Dream.  The Jack stuff Sapnap couldn't even process right now, but with Dream- George must know the expressions of affection they'd worn better than anyone else because it had been those very faces that had planted the first seeds of betrayal back at the war camp.  George had seen it when he'd gone to welcome them back and left before ever making contact because they hadn't controlled the rumors properly, because when it had mattered most he and Dream had failed, and then George had fallen into a coma.  Had almost died.

Those expressions must be fresh in George's memory and he'd recognized it again that afternoon in the garden.  Perhaps that had been why he'd ducked away from the crowd, because he'd seen Sapnap and Karl talking together and known.

Known what Sapnap had been denying. 

It just didn't seem possible.  Didn't seem fair for this to happen so fast.  He had to be doing something wrong, making Karl into something he wasn't.  Things just weren't this easy, weren't like- like when Bad and Skeppy had gotten together.  Bad had pushed Skeppy away for a long time, assuming the golem hybrid's affections were insincere because Skeppy had known what he wanted from the first moment he'd laid eyes on Bad, from the very first conversation.  That was the only couple Sapnap had known like that and he'd attributed it to the whims of fate deciding to be kind.  For one grand, miraculous instance, Prime allowed the blossom of their love to be straightforward, allowed them to escape the toils of XD the rest of them slogged through.

Sapnap never thought he'd find something like that for himself.  Even with George it had taken months, years, for him to realize the depths of his feelings.  Things had sort of spiraled out of control when it came to Dream, their feelings escalated in a way they likely wouldn't have been under the constant pressure of war, but even that hadn't been instantaneous.  They'd known each other for years before then, and even if they didn’t like each other, once their past actions were reconsidered with new context, it had been easy to love Dream.  It had been easy for Dream to love Sapnap.

Sapnap had known Karl for just over two weeks.  He shouldn't feel this deeply so quickly.

But he did.  He did, and George wasn't going to let him ignore it anymore.  

"I'm sorry," Sapnap whispered again, hanging his head to hide the way his gaze flared with a familiar, bitter heat. "I haven't been fair to you."

Karl, who had likely been prepared to chastise him once more for unneeded apologies paused, his ears twitching in confusion. "What do you mean?  You've been great to me." Sapnap fumbled for a coherent response, but Karl seemed to make some sort of connection before he could do so, the bunny hybrid cutting back in before Sapnap could reply. "Is this about what George said?"

Sapnap's cheeks burned. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "We haven't known each other that long, but I do- I like you for you, not because I need romance or something.  I like you because you're funny and sweet and unapologetically yourself.  Because you met a crying hybrid when you were on vacation and instead of going the other way – which would have been way easier and totally understandable – you took the time to help me and that's really cool, and your scent's nice and-"

"Sapnap," Karl interrupted, and though his voice was soft Sapnap found himself suppressing a flinch anyway, preparing himself to meet the end of Karl's generosity. "Stop beating yourself up.  I like you too, you nimrod." Sapnap paused, his eyes going wide, and that was enough to make him look up again.  When he did, it was to meet the happy, flushed expression on Karl's face, the bunny hybrid seeming close to tearing up himself. "Romantically," Karl elaborated. "I like you romantically."

"Oh," Sapnap said somewhat dumbly. "I like you romantically too."

Which was- oh, he'd already said that, essentially, and now he was just repeating that like a big dumb idiot but Karl only giggled, seeming delighted with this elaboration.

"Great," Karl said. "That's great.  That... that makes me really happy." 

"But," Sapnap began, panic bubbling in his gut because of course things couldn't just be easy. "But Dream.  I have- we've distanced ourselves, but if he ever comes back- if he still wants me-"

"Then you'll be with him," Karl finished like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Which maybe it was, but Sapnap wasn't seeing it, the anxiety replaced with a swell of disappointment. "But what about us?"

It sounded dumb when he said it out loud.  There wasn't even really a ‘them’.  Whatever they had was new, it wasn't even properly existent, and here Sapnap was mourning its loss anyway.

"We can still be us," Karl said, smiling wide.

Sapnap didn't follow.

"Look," Karl began, taking pity on him. "I think you've gotten so used to your parents' polyamorous relationship that you've sort of never explored the other options available, but there can be a lot of different arrangements in polycules.  Granted, this particular situation is slightly more complicated because we can't ask Dream how he feels about things right now, so maybe we shouldn't go crazy, but there are plenty of hybrids that have relationships with more than one individual without every individual in the polycule being in love with each other.  What I mean by that is that when Dream comes back, you could be with both him and me if we're all comfortable with it.  We could have that romantic relationship while Dream and I were just friends.  You could marry Dream, be Dream's husband, and we could just date or do whatever we feel is comfortable.  There's no one way to do this stuff – ultimately it comes down to what we feel is best, and that's it."

It sounded nice.  No, it sounded perfect, but mostly it was too good to be true.  Could it really work like that?

Sapnap swallowed hard. "Do you think Dream would feel betrayed?" Sapnap asked. "That I dared to be with someone else?"

"Please take into account that I am somewhat biased when I give my answer," Karl prefaced. "But at the end of the day, Dream abandoned you.  He chose his instincts, chose Jack, over you, and while he might have a very good reason for that, the fact is that you were also hurting, you also needed him, and he was not and continues not to be there for you, so like-" Karl made a face. "I'm admittedly pretty peeved at him, I won't lie, but if he loves you, he'd want you to be happy.  He'd want you to do what you needed to do to take care of yourself, and Sap-" Karl reached over, hovering just above Sapnap's hand as though waiting for permission, and Sapnap returned his hold eagerly, comforted by the familiar affection. "If this makes you more stressed, it's not something we have to explore now.  There's no time limit here.  We can wait for Dream to come back before we do anything.  I'm happy as we are right now, and I wouldn't want you to be stressed." Karl's smile widened. "I don't want what we have to be something that hurts you."

They were simple words, plainly spoken, and they struck Sapnap at his core.

This was Karl offering his love and affection, his genuine support – Karl putting him first because of his unique situation.  Being patient because that was- you did that with people you cared for.

Karl cared for him, and that was what he wanted to give Sapnap.

“I want to explore this with you,” Sapnap said, and he knew he meant every word without question.  Knew that as much as George might disapprove that this was Sapnap’s life to live, and he wasn’t flighty for loving someone else.  He was- he was generous, that he was willing to extend this trust. “But I’d like to go slowly,” he said. “And keep it private.  Not- I’m not embarrassed-”

“Dude, you are a prince,” Karl interrupted with a laugh. “I know things are crazy around you.  George literally warned me of that before he went all cranky pants on us.”

At the mention of the panther hybrid Sapnap’s expression fell, a heavy sigh on his lips. “I don’t know what to do about him.”

The letters didn’t seem to be doing anything.  Time didn’t seem to be doing anything.  Maybe George just needed more space.

“We’ll figure it out,” Karl urged, giving Sapnap’s fingers a soft squeeze. “Whatever happens, we’re in this together.  You’re not alone anymore.”

At that, Sapnap felt his breath catch.

He wasn’t, and he hadn’t been, but it was different.  Different when he’d had a proper partner and then lost it, and Karl would never be a substitute from Dream or any of the others, he was too uniquely him to be a replacement for anyone, but Sapnap could admit a certain restlessness finally being settled deep in his core. 

He wasn’t alone anymore, he was anchored.

“I love you,” Sapnap said, and it was without guilt or burden or fear.

It was also worth it for the way Karl’s face flushed dark in response, the writer getting bashful for once. “I love you too,” he whispered, like it was a reverent, secret thing. “Want to cuddle in my den?”

“Yes, please,” Sapnap said, honored by the invitation.  He still took Karl’s favored couch pillow with him when they left – when they, together, stepped forward into the future.

Once again, Sapnap allowed that small, kindled flame of hope to burn brighter.

~:~

They took things slowly as a matter of necessity.  

Neither of them wanted to do this wrong, wanted to rush forward in a way that might cause substantial damage so they simply enjoyed what they had while they had it.  Karl made arrangements to stay in the capital on a more long-term basis, sending messages to his friends back in the village in which he previously resided.  When things had calmed down somewhat they would make a dedicated trip out there to collect Karl's items, but for now he was happy settling for the few things his friends would have shipped to him, was comfortable making his space in Callahan's estate and Sapnap's suite more suited to him on a long-term basis. 

Sapnap loved watching the process, loved seeing this remarkable individual be there for him.  Not for Bad or his parents, not for royalty or duty – Karl chose to stay for Sapnap, and yes, the rest of them were a bonus, but Sapnap and Callahan came first, and that was pretty cool. 

Of course, this led to certain – minor – confrontations.  They'd decided to keep things private, but they both agreed to inform their immediate family – or for Sapnap, a small portion of that since he'd been fortunate enough to have his pack swell into a pretty substantial thing.  

Bad and Skeppy were the first they told – approaching each of them separately, for some reason – followed by Philza and Quackity since they'd all been at the impromptu tea party picnic.  All of them had been supportive and all of them agreed with Karl's logic.  As of right now, Sapnap was being distanced from Dream for a reason.  They couldn't make the decision for Sapnap to move on with his life and then get mad at him when he found love with someone else, which was something Ponk also verified in his private session with them.

"It is a tricky situation," the doctor agreed. "But the fact is that right now, there are a lot of aspects of your future that are uncertain.  You don't know when Dream is going to come out of his instincts.  You don't know how he's going to act when that happens.  Those are both very stressful things, and while it would be ideal to speak with him before progressing, the truth is, you're struggling somewhat.  Your alpha hurt you, and that left damage.  Seeking out healthy, positive relationships to help you stabilize isn't a bad thing, and it's very clear that both of you have put a lot of thought into this.  As long as you're clear in your needs and maintain an open path of communication, I think this can be good for both of you." He turned to Karl. "Though for you, I would be extra certain to seek verification with the rest of Sapnap's pack.  They'll be happy to give it to you, but it's important that you understand that your place in their lives isn't contingent upon any sort of relationship with Sapnap.  They liked you and wanted you around before that, which means that they are just as much your people as they are Sapnap's.  Don't do yourself the disservice of creating that mental distance."

"I won't," Karl whispered, gaze shiny with moisture because that was- yeah, that was a fair point, and Sapnap certainly didn't want to be the reason Karl deprived himself of company, didn't want the bunny hybrid to isolate himself because he thought the others should be available for Sapnap over him.

Ponk really was the smartest. 

Those were all successful, easy exchanges, though it couldn't all be smooth sailing.

And it wasn't, when it got to Callahan.

The Stardeer cornered Sapnap when he was training, meaning that Karl was safely in their suite, working on his newest story.  Sapnap hadn't been able to extract many details regarding it – every time he tried to ask Karl would go all pink and hurriedly change the subject, which made Sapnap hopeful for the finished product. It was one of the few times they were distinctly separated, which was why Sapnap should have been less surprised when he turned to face what had previously been an empty training field and found himself nose-to-nose with a very unimpressed Callahan.

‘I do not need to warn you,’ Callahan projected into his mind while Sapnap flailed back with a yelp, arms windmilling in an effort to regain his balance.  Callahan, of course, was perfectly unaffected. ‘You know better than to hurt what is mine,’ Callahan continued, head cocked ever so slightly to the side to convey a certain interest, even if his face was as impassive as ever. ‘But in the interest of clear communication, if you ever intentionally hurt Karl, I will remove him from the situation and make your life very, very annoying.’ His eyes widened somewhat, emanating a distinct air of instability that Sapnap would rather not see on the most powerful person in the empire's judicial system. ‘You are royalty so I cannot kill you, but you and I both know there are far worse things than dying.’

"Holy fuck, Callahan – I'm not gonna hurt him like that," Sapnap sputtered, dragging a hand across his face even if he really shouldn't take his eyes off the very powerful hybrid before him. "I'm sorry I didn't talk about this with you before it- you know, it just-" He made a helpless motion with his hand. "It happened, and he's happy, and I'm happy."

‘I'm happy too,’ Callahan said, and when Sapnap looked back at him, the Stardeer was back to wearing the same seemingly harmless expression as always. ‘I always thought you two would be good together.  I'm glad you were able to make that connection.’

"You are?" Sapnap was so confused. "Then what's with all the..."

‘Tina said it was a sacred rite of passage,’ Callahan informed Sapnap solemnly. ‘A brother's privilege.  Of course, she wouldn't dare do it to Karl.  We agreed he's too sensitive.’

Tina.  Of course this all came down to that troll.

‘Were you scared?’ Callahan asked, seeming to vibrate in place like an overexcited puppy. ‘Did your life flash before your eyes?  Tina said I would get extra cake if your life flashed before your eyes.’

The wheels in Sapnap's head started turning. "My life flashed before my eyes five times," he said, and that time when Callahan's gaze went wide, it was in wonder. "You should get five times the compensation from that super fancy bakery you love so much."

‘You are very wise,’ Callahan allowed, nodding thoughtfully. ‘I will do that.  Also, though you do not need it – you have my support and approval.’

"I might not strictly need it but it does make me feel better to have it," Sapnap said, and aside from the minor heart attack, he was very, very happy for the exchange.

Even Callahan supported them.  If they could get him on their side, they could do anything.

Part of Sapnap wished he could ask the Wastakens what they thought, but he didn't want to mess anything up.  Didn't want to make it harder than it had to be.  They told him to find peace in his distance, and he had.

With Karl, he had.

That was enough for him.

~:~

Foolish had gotten smaller.

He had also, through some form of magic, multiplied.

Sapnap rubbed his eyes in an attempt to clear away any grime or hindrances that might have otherwise affected his vision, but when he looked up again, the image before him remained the same.  Two tiny Foolishes were staring up with wide, interested eyes.

Or rather, one of them was interested - the one that was dressed as an exact replica of Foolish seemed curious and confident, as though this was their space and they fully deserved to be there without question.  The other small Foolish – the one that seemed to be dressed in a miniature version of the Essempi-Shark cape that George sported regularly – seemed substantially shyer, closer to the Foolish Sapnap had come to know, and mostly hid, leaning out from behind the first to get a good (but safe) look at Sapnap.

The blaze hybrid rubbed his eyes again.  

The vision didn't change.

"Do you have something in your eye?" the first tiny Foolish asked, their voice young and childlike and quite possibly feminine – maybe, not that Sapnap had a huge frame of reference for categorizing adolescent tones. "You should see Ponk if you do.  Dad says that you should always go to Ponk if you're injured."

"I'm fine," Sapnap managed to say, realizing once and for all that this likely wasn't an illusion if they were talking about Ponk with such confidence.  They were in the royal quarters, which meant they deserved to be there or had managed to sneak in, and based on the absurd amount of security the castle had nowadays (a successful poisoning and kidnapping would do that to you), the latter option was highly unlikely.  The personalized, high quality, and well-tailored clothing also strongly supported the former possibility. "How did you guys get here?"

"The door," second small Foolish offered, voice soft as they helpfully pointed over towards the door that led out into the hall. "Captain Puffy said we could explore."

"We haven't been over here yet!" first tiny Foolish declared with a complete disregard for the limited distance between them, making their voice carry more forcefully than it actually needed to. "We're still getting introductions."

"Wait," second small Foolish spoke up. "I think we're s'posed to wait to explore after introductions."

"Ah, I think you're right," first small Foolish replied, a look of realization traveling over their features. "Well, we're here now."

"We should go back." 

"I don't wanna," first small Foolish huffed with a light stomp of their foot. "We're totems, we're supposed to explore and get inspired.  This tour thing is way too slow."

"We were just born though," second small Foolish offered quietly. "We don't know who's good and bad yet."

"How are we supposed to learn if we're being stifled?" first small Foolish sighed dramatically, looking dangerously close to throwing themselves across the closest armchair in a languishing sprawl so everyone else could fully understand the depths of their despair.

It was about this time that Karl finally finished the current scene he was working on so they could go to lunch together and as such, stumbled upon the same confusing spectacle as Sapnap.

"Oh wow," Karl said, looking down with a bright grin. "New baby totems."

Oh, wait.  Yes, that made- that made a lot more sense.  These were baby totem hybrids.  And not just one, but two- there were two whole totem pup hybrids in their sitting room, and Sapnap was feeling dangerously out of his depth.

"Yes!" first small Foolish cheered, seeming to be doused with a renewed sense of enthusiasm in the wake of an expanding audience. "We manifested this morning and now we're up from our nap and ready to take on the world!" 

"Responsibly," second small Foolish- small totem pup – spoke up. "We're supposed to do it responsibly, not sneak out when the others are sleeping."

"Who needs to sleep that long anyway?" the first and more confident pup huffed before turning their attention to Karl. "I'm Finley," they declared, sticking their hand out. "And I'm going to be a princess." They- she motioned behind her. "And this is FJ, which stands for Foolish Junior." Aw, there actually was a baby Foolish.  Sapnap was right after all. "He's going to be a prince."

"I want food more than crowns, though," FJ said quietly, making a face.

"Yes, yes – we need praise!" Finley agreed before rounding on Sapnap. "Come look at our workrooms!  We need feedback!"

"I- right, yes, of course," Sapnap said, Karl giggling from his spot beside him before the bunny hybrid took his hand, seeming to take the shift in schedule entirely in stride as they followed the two newly-manifested totem hybrids back towards the bearer suite, where low and behold there was a small ruckus.

"Babies," Foolish gasped, the lord consort jerking upright from where he'd been peering under some of the furniture in the sitting room – Niki and Puffy looking through other hiding spots. "Sweetlings, I understand the unshakable thirst to explore, but you need to tell someone before you go.  We will always support your need to create and learn but you are small, and you need to have an adult with you for protection." He fell into an easy crouch and opened his arms, both pups rushing to return his hug, though Finley was a bit more enthusiastic about the process. "I am not angry, just worried."

"Sorry, papa," Finley said, uncharacteristically shy. "I got excited.  FJ tried to keep me back but I was stubborn, so he followed me so I wouldn't be alone."

"Aw, my sweet babies," Foolish said, peppering the tops of their heads with kisses. "I accept your apology.  It's okay to make mistakes – we can't be perfect all the time – it's just important to remember for the future."

"I will," Finley promised. "But we met these two!" she said, perking up. "So it was a good exploration."

"Yeah?" Foolish hummed, rocking back on his heels so he could look at Sapnap and Karl. "And did you get their names?"

"Um." Finley had the decency to look bashful. "No."

"We wanted to show them our workshop," FJ said quietly. "We were hungry."

At that, Foolish went still, his eyes widening somewhat. "We can't have that," he declared, scooping both of the pups (twins?  Were they twins?) into his arms and motioning for Karl and Sapnap to follow him with a nod of his head.  

And that was how Sapnap came to discover the newly-modified redstone workshop that was next to the pups' art studio.  Finley ducked into the latter, wiggling out of Foolish's arms so she could drag Karl inside with a happy shout.  FJ was much more subdued in comparison, politely tugging on Sapnap's hand before he led the blaze hybrid into the office that was now a redstone workshop, with pup-sized worktables and many storage bins – some with safety locks – and plenty of space for drafting or practical building. 

"This is a hopper clock," FJ explained as he motioned to one of his blueprints. "It acts as a timer for big redstone machinery since it's difficult to make that sort of stuff register a standard gold clock.  And this is an item loop," he continued. "Hoppers can't always put up with the load of auto farms, but instead of destroying the excess to keep the farm from crashing with a cactus or lava I designed a looped system that would continuously propel the items over a series of hoppers until it reached one that was available so it could be shifted into storage.  That way, there's no waste."

"Oh Prime," Sapnap breathed, because even if he didn't entirely understand what the blueprints meant FJ seemed confident, and Foolish was positively beaming with pride from behind him. "That's amazing, FJ!" 

He shifted down into a crouch, offering his arms out towards the young pup, and was pleased when FJ allowed Sapnap to pick him up, the young pup giggling when he was spun and celebrated, Sapnap doing his absolute best to give the new pup (his younger brother?  Did he just acquire a new set of younger siblings?) the praise he was due.

"You did such a good job!" Sapnap declared, hugging FJ close so he could nuzzle the top of his head. "We're so proud of you, buddy, I can't wait to see all the amazing stuff you're going to build."

FJ simply hummed as he leaned into Sapnap's contact – eyes closed so he couldn't see the way he seemed to glow, a soft, brilliant buzz of light – concentrated magic, perhaps – that was there and then gone a few seconds later.

Sapnap stilled, unsure of how to respond, but thankfully Foolish took over seconds later, relieving Sapnap of the young pup and holding him close himself.

"Good job, baby," Foolish murmured, pressing another kiss to the top of his head.

It was an illuminating afternoon.

A few minutes later, Finley traded out Karl for Sapnap so she could get praise from him too (after shaking his hand and receiving his half of the introductions she'd missed out before).  Like her brother she glowed under Sapnap's praise, but she was bold about receiving it, puffed up with pride and swaggered around as a totem that was given their due.

It wasn't until later, when they were all crowded around the table in a slightly late lunch, that Sapnap got an explanation from Foolish.

"Totems feed off of praise and support of their crafts during their developmental years," Foolish murmured under his breath, watching the twins regale their afternoon exploits with the rest of their brothers, who seemed split between annoyance at missing the adventure and amazement at how much had occurred in such a short amount of time. "We feed off the natural energy of the universe, so what you saw was the twins responding to that."

"Was it like that for you?" Karl asked brightly, and he didn't know- couldn't know because they didn't advertise it – but he was perceptive enough to catch the way Foolish's expression dimmed somewhat, for all that he maintained his smile.

"I was purposefully neglected," Foolish explained. "Magic was less well-received back then.  Even if totems were supposed to bring good fortune, superstitious, small villages don't want to mess with that sort of thing, so I didn't really experience it." His gaze shifted back to the pups. "It's not going to be that way for them, though."

"No," Sapnap agreed, reaching over to give Foolish's shoulder a soft squeeze. "We'll keep them fed.  Keep them loved."

"We promise," Karl added, because he was- he was in this for the long haul.  They both were.

First Karl, and now the twins. 

Their pack was growing bigger and better every day.

Chapter Text

Fundy's birthday was a grand affair, but for Karl, it was but one celebration of many.  It was awesome to present himself as the author the royal flock loved so much to the nobles and hybrids of great import who hadn't been aware of Karl's presence – that was fun – but instead of being a grand, life changing experience it was just a lovely Saturday, and when the guests had all been shown out it was Karl who was allowed to stay behind with Callahan, roasting marshmallows and drinking hot chocolate while Quackity cooed over how very big his son was getting.

It was everything Karl had wanted when he was growing up and it was there for the taking.  He'd followed Ponk's advice early on and sought out additional conversations with Sapnap's – no, with his packmates, because they had confirmed that they were just as much there for him as they were for Sapnap.  As was the case with most packs, there were individuals Karl was closer to than others – some that would always favor Sapnap slightly more than him, but he had that in kind as well.  It was nice.  Nice to know that he could turn to Wilbur if needed and help him ferry paperwork around when it started getting difficult for him to bend over.  It was nice to dine with Sapnap's older brother (but not Skeppy, for some reason?), to cheerfully workshop plot points with Quackity for his newest story over afternoon tea.  Life in the castle was chaotic but in a good way, and no matter what happened, he would still have his cozy den to retreat to with Sapnap.  They hadn't gotten much past cuddling, but they didn't really need to.  They knew where they stood with each other, and that was all that mattered.  They were building a life together, and it wasn't a race.  They'd have plenty of time to figure out what they needed to do.

Karl was proud of them. 

With Fundy's birthday came Fall and a comfortable rhythm.  There were no updates from Dream save that George was still visiting him.  There were no updates from George either – Karl had been hoping that they could perhaps clear the air somehow, but the panther hybrid was making a dedicated effort to avoid everything he considered to be a frivolous social gathering. Not even Callahan seemed to have much luck tracking him down, though to be fair to him, they did all seem very busy working through the noble succession stuff.  There was some big hubbub going around with the Essempis and the Awes and who would take over (as far as Karl knew, George was already the acting Duke of Essempi, he wasn't sure why they'd need to argue the point), but such things didn't broach the comfortable bubble they had built for themselves.  Sapnap stayed out of the spotlight and safely away from scandal, though they did manage to hear some interesting gossip via Skeppy, who was great at getting people to reveal information they might not have otherwise shared.  He seemed to take to the task with a dedicated fervor that Karl suspected stemmed from anxiety – the golem hybrid doing what he could to manage it – and whether that related to his absence near Bad as of late, Karl did not know.

"There have been rumors going around," Skeppy informed them halfway through Fall, his expression somewhat troubled. "Word is that um- you and Dream weren't actually ever engaged at all."

Despite the fact that they'd been sitting as per Skeppy's request, Sapnap still looked terribly faint from his position beside Karl on the couch, his eyes going wide. "That's not- that can't be true," he said. "He kissed me.  In public. That's why we had to get engaged in the first place."

Lest the honor of both their families be besmirched, and in hindsight, that was totally a plot point that Karl should use for one of his own stories, assuming Sapnap ever felt comfortable enough to let him. 

Nobles and their rules – they could be so silly sometimes.

"Right," Skeppy said, looking uncomfortable. "But word is that the soldiers were mistaken.  You know – it's a war, things are crazy, people almost die – easy to mistake a hug for passionate making out.  Super easy to confuse." He ran a hand over his head with a sigh. "I think your knight squad was trying to give you guys an out.  Since Philza hasn't really mentioned the engagement in months and with Dream out of the picture – they don't know what he's doing, but they're loyal guys.  They'll back you up to their dying breath if they think that's what will help."

"Would it make things easier?" Karl asked, navigating this as carefully as possible. "For Sapnap, I mean, if the rumor takes?"

"Well, there's a little bit more to it than that," Skeppy said. "According to the rumor, Dream's still engaged.  It's just to someone else." He pressed his lips together, seeming contemplative, then sighed again. "Someone named George."

It made sense and it didn't, but Karl's response wasn't the one that mattered right now.  For Karl, George and Dream were a passing acquaintance and a prospect more than hybrids that could hold significant emotional sway over his life – but it was an entirely different case for Sapnap.

George was Sapnap's longtime friend and Dream his almost-technically-was-but-no-longer-could-be lover.  The idea of them getting together without him was likely devastating in its own way, and Karl braced himself for the emotional fallout that would follow, unsurprised when Sapnap fumbled for his hand, giving his fingers a desperate squeeze, as though trying to ground himself while he stared at the floor, likely gathering his thoughts.

"If... if you heard it," Sapnap began, feeling out each word carefully. "If it spread that far, then that means it's not a small group of people that are talking about it."

"No," Skeppy agreed, his expression sorrowful. "It's pervasive enough for me to assume that at least one information network was tasked with passing it around.  I'm not sure whose, though."

"If you actually heard it – if it wasn't stifled – that means the Wastakens... they're not against it," Sapnap said, distant. "They would have crushed it otherwise."

Skeppy sighed, as though wishing he could provide any other answer. "That is my suspicion." 

"Do you think it's something they planned with George?" Sapnap asked, voice strained. "But why... why have an engagement at all?  I understand if they wanted to sweep what happened with us under the rug, I get that, Dream and I – that whole thing was fast and crazy-" But it was theirs, and it had been good, had been what both of them had needed. "-maybe they thought we were going too fast, but why George?"

"Maybe we're thinking of this too personally," Skeppy replied, his voice soft. "Right now, George is neck-deep in a succession battle.  Before the war, the Wastakens had informally claimed George as a packmate.  This might be their way of offering support.  After all, for nobles, actions speak louder than words."

There seemed to be something to his tone as he said this, though Sapnap was too distraught to pick up on it.  Were it not for that, Karl might push, but-

But he had other priorities.

"You think they're telling the Essempis that no matter what, George will hold a position of power in a duchy," Karl said, putting the pieces together.  His years of writing fantastical storylines certainly helped when it came to analyzing power dynamics, but he didn't think he would ever be able to write something quite as dramatic as Sapnap's actual life.

"It's a statement," Skeppy confirmed. "He will hold power, so they may as well give up.  I doubt it will be that easy though, given all the fuss they're raising.  I mean- I'd admire their determination if they weren't such jerks about it," Skeppy grumbled, grabbing up a cookie from the platter they were sharing and chomping into it aggressively. "Or were jerks to someone else.  I can admit I'm self-serving."

"I think it's natural to want a close friend to stay out of harm's way," Karl soothed, offering the protector a comforting purr in Peacekeper.

Skeppy mustered a small grin of thanks. "This is all, of course, theoretical.  I know nothing for sure, other than that the rumors were allowed to spread."

Which in itself said an awful lot as far as the Wastakens were concerned.  Karl hadn't realized just how much they controlled the social scene of the nobles until he'd met Sapnap.  It wasn't just the military they had their hands in, the Wastakens were a small but mighty force, and crossing them was- well, it wasn't an option.

"I didn't want it to take you by surprise," Skeppy continued, staring down at his lap. "I imagine it will only gain traction as time goes on."

"And then I'll hear all the nobles gossip about how they were meant to be together," Sapnap said, expression closed off into one of neutrality. "Will start sharing stories that support their love.  Recontextualizing things.  It's what they like to do."

"It is," Skeppy said, looking somewhat defeated.

Karl wasn't sure how to feel about it, and he would try to process it properly later.  Sapnap's affection towards him didn't diminish or negate his affection towards others.  He could love Karl and still ache over what happened with Dream and George, and the fact that he wasn't able to have a proper conversation with either of them likely didn't help matters.  Karl wasn't going to take it personally because it wasn't meant that way.  It didn't really have anything to do with him at all.  It was about Sapnap and his feelings, and that was what mattered at the moment.     

"Will you be okay with that?" Skeppy asked, a careful probe rife with concern for Sapnap. "Phil still has you pulled from participating in all non-essential functions and publicity engagements, so you won't have to withstand the weight of the gossip there.  I'm sure the more ambitious nobles will try to shame you in some way, but the knights will back you up.  They won't let it happen, Sappy, they'll take away any ammunition they could throw before they can even think of it."

"That- that'll be good," Sapnap allowed, but Karl heard all he didn't say.  It was great that his fellow knights would protect him, would minimize the fallout that might affect his reputation by going along with the rumors.  If they were truly being handled by the Wastakens, there was no choice but to go with the flow – fighting against the current would only make things worse, but for Sapnap... in the end, taking that path, as wise as it was, all but erased his connection to Dream from history.  

It truly and firmly severed ties between the blaze hybrid and his alpha.

"Sappy-" Skeppy began, expression stricken, but the younger protector cut him off with a sharp shake of his head.

"No," Sapnap said. "I know it's important for me to not repress my feelings right now, but at the end of the day, it doesn't really matter if I'm okay with it.  It happened- it's happening, and that's..." He hung his head, trailing off with a sigh when it seemed he no longer had any idea how to continue. "Do you think the rest of the pack has heard about this?"

"Wilbur has at the very least," Skeppy confirmed. "And if he knows, there's no way Techno wouldn't.  Phil is, of course, a different story.  The others will likely wait to break it to him at the best possible moment, though there's a good chance he's caught wind of it from his crows and hasn't wanted to tell you yet."

"So basically they all know," Sapnap said, because that was how the royal flock seemed to work for the most part.  There were so many of them, they had to communicate excessively to be on the same page, so there was likely very little they kept from each other. "Do you think they'll be disappointed?"

"What?" Skeppy asked, brows furrowed in confusion. "Sappy, you didn't do anything wrong."

"I wasn't enough, though," Sapnap pointed out. "And George was.  And maybe- Maybe that's a sign, maybe Dream-"

"Don't say that," Skeppy interrupted, his voice hard. "You didn't see the way the guy looked at you.  You think he fought us for your engagement reparations?  Heck no, that guy adored the ground you walked on – he gave us his armor and the stables and offered more land beside – offered a manor just for you.  Two manors, actually," Skeppy said, clearing his throat. "One in the capital and one in the Wastaken Duchy in the south part of the empire. And just- a lot of jewels.  He was very insistent about the jewels."

"He was?" This all seemed to be news to Sapnap, who couldn't quite stifle the pleased flush that spilled across the bridge of his nose, a bashful look that filled Karl with a happy warmth.  His partner's mood being buoyed raised his own in turn, and Karl held onto the tentative thread of hope unraveling in his chest.  None of them could know how the future unfurled, but moving forward carefully, keeping positive, it could get them far, Karl thought.

"Yeah," Skeppy said, smile wide as though he were grateful to be allowed the opportunity to share positive news. "And they said you could keep it.  Even with the separation, even if the engagement dissolves, that stuff – they said it was yours.  Dream wanted to give it to you, so it's yours."

There was a moment where Sapnap seemed to process this, blinking frantically even though his eyes were dry.

"The duke and duchess didn't want to make things harder for you," Skeppy said, his voice quiet. "They didn't know if that would hurt or help, they didn't want to risk it, but you should know, for whatever reason Dream reacted that way to you – he still cares about you a great deal.  And if he doesn't, I'll hunt him down and kick his lizard brain ass.”

"Language," Karl chided, in memory of Bad, hoping to lighten the mood, but it only seemed to make Skeppy’s smile go tight.

Skeppy cleared his throat, gaze averting from Sapnap who leaned hopefully into Karl's side, seeking affection the bunny hybrid was happy to give. "They’ve had discussions – with Ponk, with the Wastakens – about whether or not you should try visiting again."

It had been another silent ache Sapnap hadn't discussed when they'd heard that George had somehow coaxed Dream into accepting more visitors – even if they were hybrids of authority that had initially challenged his instincts.  It had been another low point for Sapnap for all that he'd tried to ignore it – helpless to change the facts as they were and minimizing his reaction to them because of it. 

"Bad doesn’t want to risk it," Sapnap deduced, because it had been months at this point, and no changes had been made.

Skeppy’s shoulders slumped, something unreadable in his gaze. "You're precious, Sappy.  To all of us, and we know you're strong, that you're perfectly capable in combat and high stakes situations, but your relationship with Dream – the relationship between a second and their alpha – it's an intimate thing, and we just- we can't risk that things might go badly." He pressed a hand to his chest, eyes aimed at Sapnap with a beseeching need. "You're his baby, Sappy-”

“I know,” Sapnap interrupted. “He practically raised me after mom and dad died.”

“I’m- I’m sure he wants you to be happy and stable and…”

"And?" Karl prompted when it seemed like Sapnap wasn't going to, the blaze hybrid too busy thinking things over.

"And there was something else," Skeppy allowed, seeming regretful. "Something that really should have hinted at all these engagement rumors.  Because they- they believed that this would be better for more than just um- you," Bad said, clearing his throat. "They thought it'd be good for George too.  Things are- they didn't go into details, but he's going through a lot right now, and having Dream in his corner..."

"It helps," Sapnap finished. "No matter how George might insist otherwise, he still has feelings.  He still has to cater to them, and he barely comes around the castle nowadays, doesn't he."

It wasn't really a question. The panther hybrid's lack of presence spoke for itself.

"He sees Connor regularly," Bad said. "And Foolish and the twins.  Tubbo and Josh, but that's about it."

"Then I'm okay with that," Sapnap said, seeming to build himself up into a firm resolution. "I'm okay with this.  I'm lucky enough to have all of you guys.  To have our parents." He turned his attention towards Karl with a soft smile. "To have you," he murmured, not quite as suavely as he'd anticipated based on Skeppy's giggles, but for Karl, he was the most debonair hybrid in the world. "I don't need to be greedy.  If this can help George, then I'll step back.  Wait to meet him on his terms."

"And in the meantime, you have your letters," Karl reminded him.

"Yeah, this is- this will be good," Sapnap decided. "If anyone asks me questions about the engagement, I'm gonna rave about how cool my friends are.  They deserve each other."

"You all do," Skeppy said, stubborn, but fond. "And maybe you'll get there one day, but for now, we have each other."

His gaze slid to Karl as he said this, his meaning in no way hidden for all that Sapnap had completely missed it.

Karl hadn't, of course.  Karl couldn't.  The thought of him being involved in-

No, clearly Skeppy had just meant that it should be something for Karl to expect in the future.  Sapnap's connection to them, he meant.  Not Karl's.  Karl had gotten lucky once and it wasn't going to happen again.

And that was that.

"We should get them engagement presents," Sapnap declared, his enthusiasm really building. "What do you get for the hybrids that have everything?"

"Cake," Skeppy advised. "Or the subjugation of the Essempis."

"But mostly cake," Karl hummed, which felt like an accurate deduction.

There were few things in life, Karl had found, that could not be solved with the proper application of tasty desserts.

~:~

Part of Sapnap wanted to speak with the Wastakens, wanted to see if everything was really okay.  A lot of what they assumed to be true came from implications rather than explicit statements, but still, when it came to nobility, sometimes it was better to operate in such a way.  There was a certain amount of safety, of maneuverability presented in that gray area.  As long as nothing was stated for certain, all parties could carry on in relative peace.  It was but one of the many things Sapnap was learning in his prince etiquette classes, though Bad seemed to be taking to them substantially better than Sapnap was, for all that there was a quiet reluctance about him. 

For Sapnap, it didn't come as easily, or perhaps he was simply allowed the luxury of not needing to master it as quickly as his brother, who'd been shoved into the position of crown prince with a brutal transition fueled by necessity – Wilbur's poisoning forcing him to grow up, to elevate to the next stage of his life, much like the death of their parents had forced him to mature so quickly.  No ten-year-old should have to raise a baby on their own, but Bad had done it, done that and risen to the position of royalty all because of the attachments formed by his brother.  Sapnap likely hadn't thanked his elder brother enough for that, knew that if he tried that Bad would likely brush it off.  Bad always had a remarkable sense of duty and restraint, his self-discipline was equivalent to that of Techno or Sam, back when he was alive, but it was a burden he carried with ease.

Sapnap wanted things to be good for his brother, but he knew that Bad felt the same way in kind.  That for each of them, the happiness of the other was as good as achieving contentment for themselves, and alternatively, the pain of the other may as well be their own burden.  Perhaps it was too codependent of them, perhaps the years of isolation in the Nether had warped them into something that wasn't close to normal, but it was what worked for them.

The conversation they had – it reminded Sapnap of these facts.  He was allowed to hurt, he was allowed to feel, but he had to be conscious of the fact that his pain was Bad's pain.  His success was Bad's success.  So while he did truly and wholeheartedly support George and the new rumors of engagement if they were, in fact, what George needed, there was perhaps a small, itty bitty part of him that ached because of it.  Ached for what could not be even though he still had Karl, who was so very wonderful in his own way.

That they might still have something one day – to get there, though, he'd have to have George actually talk to him again, had to have Dream coherent – but until that time, he wasn't going to worry.  His brother would be getting married soon, and that was far more exciting.  

At least, this had been his thought, though Bad didn’t seem to share it.  At the very least, there had been a distinct level of tension in the air when Sapnap had approached what he’d thought was a fitting for the formal clothes he would wear to Bad’s wedding that was actually just a fitting for normal formal clothes entirely unrelated to weddings at all, or something.  Sapnap wasn’t given any details about it, could only go off of Bad’s forced air of positivity and Skeppy’s distinct absence.

“It’s always good to have new clothes,” Bad said cheerfully, as though that answered any questions.  Sapnap supposed it really could be just a normal fitting since the wedding wasn’t actually any time soon – neither Quackity nor Wilbur wished to detract from the happy couple on their big day, so the wedding was scheduled for after their due dates – Wilbur's about a month after Quackity's.  Quackity appeared properly pregnant now, and as the rules of etiquette dictated that all baby showers be held near the end of their pregnancies, they were in full party planning mode on two fronts – one for Bad and Skeppy's wedding, the other for the baby shower.

It was a process that Wilbur didn't want to seem to be a part of at all.

At least, not for the baby shower.  The current clothing fitting he seemed to be entirely onboard with.

"We need to combine the colors of House Craft with the colors of House Halo in a seamless cohesion that will celebrate Bad's position in both families," Wilbur explained to the tailor when they’d come for their fitting.  George was technically acting as one of Bad's groomsmen, but he had a separate appointment that Wilbur was going to oversee, one that catered to his busy schedule.  Sapnap still wasn't sure if he was grateful for that or not. "But-" Wilbur continued, turning as deftly as his impregnated state would allow, one hand settled on the curve of his stomach while Phil trailed dutifully after him, doing his best to suppress his worry, for all that he was failing horrifically.  He and Techno traded off protector duties for Wilbur and Quackity with Foolish bouncing between both groups as needed, so Sapnap never really knew what power combination he would stumble upon for these meetings. "It must have the elegance and extravagance of royalty!" Wilbur declared. "Luxurious without being gaudy.  Expensive while still being tasteful.  He's the crown prince, and he deserves nothing but the very best." He turned on the tailor with a minor stink eye. "Do you understand?"

"I'm sure he does, love," Philza soothed, gently coaxing Wilbur back towards the seating area, which was supposed to be Wilbur's default space for these meetings to support the rest his pregnancy demanded (they were being excessively careful with both of their bearers but more so for Wilbur, who had recovered from a brush with death shortly before his impregnation). "As he did at the last few fittings.  I promise, everything is going to be just perfect."

"I'm grateful that you're looking out for me, though," Bad said, his attention on Wilbur for all of a moment before he turned it onto the poor, harried tailor, giving the man the reassurance he so clearly needed. "This- this isn't exactly what I expected it to be, but you've been a great help, Wilbur."

"You don't have to suck up to me just because I'm pregnant," Wilbur sniffed, eyes shiny in a tell of quickly shifting emotions, their poor bearers continuously bouncing between one extreme and the other. "I know I'm being anal.  This is just- this is in our realm of control." He sighed. "It's comforting to make sure something good happens for our sounder."

"He's just telling the truth," Sapnap offered from where the tailor's assistant was looking over his own ensemble.  

It was different for nobles, they had to coordinate while still representing the colors of their own houses.  They had to be tasteful and expensive enough to satisfy the dignity demanded of their stations without threatening Bad’s position as the star of the show, which was why they had to coordinate their outfits ahead of time.  It was a delicate balancing act that they could easily ruin if they didn't pay attention.  

"We're not sucking up to you," Sapnap continued, focusing on the part of the statement he could safely address. "We haven't been doing this that long, and we're grateful for your expertise."  After a moment's deliberation, Sapnap crossed the room and settled on his knees before Wilbur who Phil had safely coaxed into sitting, the blaze hybrid letting his head rest on the bearer's knee. "You've been a comforting light in the storm, mama."

"Aw, baby," Wilbur cooed, brightening up the way he always did when Sapnap addressed him by his pack position rather than his name, the bearer's hand flittering over the top of his head, tangling easily in Sapnap's hair before it shifted to tickle the point of Sapnap's horns. "You're such a sweet one, aren't you?"

"Mama," Sapnap whined, turning to hide his embarrassment.  Sapnap had been the first to address Wilbur as mother, somehow sensing his type shift before the piglin hybrid had ever properly shared the news with the entire pack.  It created a special bond between them, for all that Quackity would likely remain Sapnap's first mother.  Phil had bonded them in such a striking way by encouraging Sapnap to share his nest with the distressed bearer way back when, and while Sapnap wouldn't change it, he couldn't help but feel a special connection to Wilbur as well.

"That's my good boy," Wilbur hummed, continuing to tickle the tips of Sapnap's horns, scratching his scalp, seeming to take solace in the act of providing affection to a packmate, which Sapnap could relate to. "Such a good, sweet pup, you are."

"T-This wasn't why I came over," Sapnap managed to get out between whines – his adult side battling with the inner pup that simply longed to be taken care of.  It was a conflict he knew he needed to discuss with Ponk at some point.  Bad had done his best to raise Sapnap in the Nether, to keep them both alive, but there was no denying that the bulk of their attentions had been spent maintaining their survival in that abandoned city of theirs.  They weren't like Wilbur, who'd worked his way out through the Nether Slums – Bad had played it safe, had to when Sapnap was depending on him.  Ultimately, neither one of them had exactly gotten a childhood, which may or may not be why Sapnap reverted like this on occasion, but there was no denying that it could be a vulnerability to be exploited should he not find a way to adequately manage it.

"Nah, this is just a benefit," Wilbur agreed brightly, his mood increasing dramatically. 

Looked like Sapnap's job was done, then. 

The tailor cleared his throat, kind enough to offer Sapnap a form of reprieve though likely just taking advantage of the bearer's good mood to interject while he could. "If these meet your satisfaction, that is all for the formal ensembles, your majesty.  Perhaps while you're here, though, you could look over the outfits you commissioned for your baby shower-"

"Not this nonsense again," Wilbur groaned, letting his head fall back in annoyance, though the hand in Sapnap's hair was still gentle. "Whatever you make will be fine.  I'm gonna look like a dumb pumpkin either way."

"He's just doing his job, darling," Phil said, his voice gentle. "We all want you to feel as gorgeous as possible-"

"Is there any point?" Wilbur snapped, his face coloring in displeasure. "Eret's not going to be there anyway."

The words hung in the air, fierce and unapologetic. 

They were, after all, true. 

Eret was gone, and he'd never get to be there for the baby shower of his newest pup.  He wouldn't get to see any of it.

Eret, who had urged so strongly for Sapnap to chase his own happiness no matter what.  Urged for him to move forward without guilt.  

Had he spread that knowledge onto the others?  

None of them knew what to say, knew how to respond.  Even after all these months the loss still hit like a knife to the chest, digging deeper with every breath they took.  Sapnap hadn't even been as close to Eret as some of the others, certainly not as close as Wilbur, and he still ached.

He wondered how much George missed the peacekeeper.  He hadn't even gotten to see his own father after risking his life in the war.

It seemed so horrifically unfair.

They didn't know what to say, so there was no way to miss the sound of the door opening, all of them turning towards it with a desperate intensity to find-

To find George lingering in the doorway, body still as he registered the tension that lingered in the air.

"My meeting finished early," he explained, not moving from his spot in the hall. "My apologies, I forgot that I had business with Connor to attend to."

"George-" Sapnap began, shifting to his feet.

"Dear one, please," Philza spoke at the same time, cutting to the panther hybrid faster than Sapnap could. "I know you have a lot going on right now, but we really need to address-"

"Don't touch me," George hissed, flinching back before Philza could ever make contact with him.

The sound was strained – hoarse as George had initially sounded upon waking up from his poisoning, making Sapnap wonder – was he still dealing with the damage from that?  Even now, after all this time?

"Sorry," Philza said, stepping back. "You're right, I'm sorry-"

"I'm going," George murmured, and then he was gone just as quickly as he came, leaving a painful tension behind him.

On the couch, Wilbur let out another sigh. "Don't chase him, Phil."

"I feel like I have to," Philza grumbled, though he deferred to his husband's wishes, trekking back towards the couch with his head hung. "I can't get him to speak with me otherwise."

"It's not going to be a good conversation if he's cornered," Wilbur pointed out. "Just give him time.  Just- give all of us time."

They weren't going to stop hurting overnight.  Sapnap had hoped that with the rumors going around – with the fact that he hadn't fought them – he didn't know, he'd hoped that maybe he could have earned some sort of favor in George's book.

It looked like he still needed more time though.

Sapnap simply wondered how much it would take before his heart could breathe easy again.

Chapter Text

Ant held back a sigh, trying to enjoy what had previously been one of his favorite times of day as the pups charged around the playground, enjoying an afternoon recess before returning to their lessons.  The addition of the twins had changed the natural dynamic the young princes had established for themselves, but in a good way.  The royal bearers had already been preparing their pups for new additions to the family – it was intended for the babes that were on their way, but now they got to make use of those teachings early.  It was a bit different; the young totems required a different level of care than a baby might, were more capable and eager to launch into games.  

It helped that there were two of them, Ant decided.  It kept things even, which would make it harder for any of the pups to feel left out.  Fundy had taken charge of incorporating Finley and FJ into their games, not that the two totems always participated.  Sometimes they required time in their workshops instead, struck by inspiration, and they all knew better than try and get between a totem and their mission.  Finley had already produced a handful of master level paintings that would be distributed around the castle, and FJ...

Prime, papa would have loved him.  An itty bitty redstone enthusiast who didn't understand the idea of giving up. FJ would have become an unofficial member of the Infrastructure Guild almost certainly, and Sam would have been more than happy to let the totem jump in on their planning sessions much the same way he had encouraged Josh's redstone interest all those years ago. 

Being around FJ hurt sometimes, but Ant was learning to push through it, which was easy enough to do with the rest of the chaos that had overtaken his life. 

It was fortunate that news of his second sex hadn't spread.  The others had done a wonderful job stifling that news, but there was no fighting the tension in the air that amplified with each passing day that no definite decision was made regarding the future.  Wilbur had left it to Ant to decide, and Ant needed to talk to Bad and Skeppy.  The older bearer thought that an engagement would be the best way forward to secure all their honor, but if Ant just saw them as brothers-

"But you don't just see them as brothers, do you?" Wilbur had said during their one-on-one conversation, and he hadn't said it to be unkind, to be cruel, he was just- he was telling the truth that Ant already knew.  A silence had followed that, Ant unwilling to continue and Wilbur unwilling to let him hide.  They both knew that no matter what he might assert in public, there was always a chance of Ant falling into his instincts again, and if he did, he would act on their relationship as he instinctively perceived it. 

Which was- well- not in a familial capacity. 

Ant had felt himself burn down to his very toes, and Wilbur hadn't hesitated to gather him close. 

"I know things might be strained right now," Wilbur had said, because no one had missed how tense and uneasy their side of the dining table had become during family mealtime. "They're just shocked.  They're adjusting." 

Back then, Ant had been able to believe him.  It was before the conversation he'd had with Bad, so it had felt like a fair consolation to buy into.  Maybe he couldn't commit to it- how could he, when Quackity's second sex had been a surprise that was enthusiastically received- but it was different.  It was.  It was a bigger group, for one thing, and most of them didn't have established relationships.  It was entirely different from the committed monogamy Bad and Skeppy had, of course they wouldn't adapt as smoothly, especially when they had seen Ant as a peacekeeper for so many years. 

He had wavered, but held onto this truth, and then Bad had spoken to him. 

They weren't private, of course.  That wasn't a mistake they could make anymore, now that everyone else knew.  Or rather, it wasn't a mistake that Bad would allow, and there was no accusation in his features when he looked on Ant, but that didn't make the cat hybrid feel it any less pointedly.  They had a meeting that was as close to private as it could be, the two of them looking on as the young princes (before the arrival of their young princess) ran through their favorite variation of the obstacle course. 

"It's an honor to be chosen by you, truly, it is," Bad had said, and while his tone was light, it was bearing the same professional warmth he used to approach his trickier patients, and while Ant was grateful to have at least escaped the disposition Bad used for politics, this change didn't actually make him feel that much better.  

It was still a wall between them, and perhaps it was a wall that Bad needed to survive.  Ant didn't begrudge him it, for all that it might hurt.  After all, he intimately understood the necessities of survival. 

"It was a surprise, but not really?" Bad continued, ending his words with a soft laugh that Ant knew was fake – a sound that threatened the smile he had plastered on his own lips so the pups would not sense that something was amiss because they were especially sensitive to such things nowadays, and they'd had enough tragedies to last several lifetimes. "I suppose it simply recontextualized some things."

"I suppose it did," Ant said lamely, because he didn't know how else to reply.  Bad wasn't being entirely level with him, but it wasn't like he could be in this situation. They each had to hold their masks in place – it was the tradeoff of the meeting location. 

Bad sighed, and even that was calculated.  And Ant- he knew that, and he wondered if Bad knew he knew that too, or if the Nether Demon really thought- well, it didn't matter.  Half their lives were a charade nowadays. "I have to be honest, I don't..."

"It's fine," Ant managed to interrupt, keeping his eyes on Ranboo as the precocious pup clambered to the top of the climbing wall and lingered there, waiting to ensure that Tommy made it up safely before daring to move on.  Such a sweet little pup, Ranboo was. "I already told Wilbur that I didn't want- I'll just claim you as brothers." 

"Just me," Bad had said, and Ant- he hadn't realized things could get worse, had already been working to shove the onslaught of terrible grief to a far corner of his mind to be unearthed later, which allowed the shock to properly set in, keeping him from processing the extent of Bad's words. "I talked about it with Skeppy-"

'No,' Ant wanted to interrupt, but he didn't, because if he did Bad would have to stop, and he needed- he needed Bad to do what Bad needed to do, not what a bearer wanted.

"-We'll end our engagement," Bad continued. "It would get me social bonus points – deferring to a bearer, and then Skeppy won't have to deal with royal politics anymore.  You'll be safe with the Blades and the Manifolds."

But what about you? Ant wanted to demand.  Was this what Bad really wanted?

But-

But he'd been so hesitant about everything.  He'd held back.  Ant was the one that had pushed every time, even Wilbur coaxing Bad forward on Ant's behalf. 

It was, at the end of the day, one of the reasons Ant had never come out to Bad.  Because he hadn't wanted the Nether Demon to feel obligated.

And now he was. 

Obligated to give up his mate for Ant-

"If we all got married-" Ant began, his tongue clumsy. "I wouldn't- I'd never touch you."

Bad's expression hardened, but really, Ant could see that he was simply refortifying himself. "It isn't about that," he murmured. "It's about keeping you safe."

But I need you, Ant did not say, because they both already knew that. 

"We can break the engagement on the grounds of your second sex," Bad continued. "If you want it, who are we to deny you? It would also support why you hid it for so long.  There are multiple benefits." 

But it would still break Skeppy's heart.  Break Ant's for ruining what they had.

The conversation petered out after that, and no real decision had been made.  Now they wavered in a strange in between area, but at some point, a decision would have to be made.

Ant just didn't know if he could make it.

He sighed, swallowing hard. Ever since the war, he felt as though his life was a series of demolitions, everything taken apart, fractured into pieces to clear ground for new construction, only Ant had no build team to help with the new structure, had no engineers or supplies or assistance.  He only had himself and some emotional buffering from his pack, and with each burst of destruction, the support he built grew weaker and weaker.  Soon, it wouldn't be able to stand up on its own, and he knew- that wasn't a healthy train of thought.  He knew that.  He knew Ponk wanted to start having sessions with him, because as it was, Ant wasn't healthy.  He was a bearer who lacked a true protector, and even with Skeppy-

Ant wanted Skeppy.  He wanted Skeppy more than anything, rivaling only his desire for Bad, but Ant couldn't have one without the other.  It was unthinkable. 

But Bad did not want him. 

It was something Ant had always known.  He hadn't acknowledged it, but it had been known, an unyielding thing, which was why Ant had never spoken up in the first place.  He had known, and what Bad and Skeppy had- it was a perfect balance.  It shouldn't be destroyed, least of all by Ant, who wanted nothing but the best for his loves. 

Okay, okay, so- he needed- he had to- 

He needed to talk to someone, he knew that.  But he wasn't going to bother Ponk, because Ponk already had enough on his plate as it was with two grieving bearers and a mess of grieving pups, and if Ant admitted something he shouldn't the doctor would be obligated by his medical code to fix the issue, and Ant didn't want to- to have to think around all of that.  He couldn't make himself talk to the Marquess when the man had already done so much for him – claiming him as a Manifold, taking over the Infrastructure Guild, getting Ant his new job- he needed someone else.  He needed-

"Hey," a soft voice said, and Ant turned to find Puffy settling in next to him, a gentle smile on her lips. "Is everything okay?" 

"It's..." Puffy wouldn't have been told because it would have been a betrayal of Ant's confidentiality, but there was a reason she was on the Advisory Council.  She was perceptive, and there was no way she would have missed something happening, or if that something revolved around Ant. 

Ant trailed off lamely, unable to complete his thought.  There was just too much going on.

"I'm here for you, if you'd like to talk," Puffy offered, and Ant knew that was the case with most of the royal pack, but sometimes they just- they needed an offered hand- "Or, I can take over my old duties for a bit if you need a break."

Ant, who had been contemplating how best to approach this- anything - froze. "What?" 

"If you need to talk to someone else," Puffy said, her tone lacking any judgement. "Someone who is not me, I can take over this.  I'm happy to do so." When Ant could only stare at her, the sheep hybrid's smile widened. "Your mind looks like it's a million miles away, Ant.  Don't apologize," she tacked on when he was about to do just that. "There's nothing wrong with it.  I don't know exactly what happened, but this is- it's been a difficult time all around.  If you need someone specific, go find them."

"I..." Ant began. "I don't know when they'll visit." 

"Then start looking into things," Puffy said, bumping her shoulder against his arm. "I can handle this for now, and all of the difficult paperwork that comes with it." 

"Okay," Ant said, and then he just- he could breathe a little easier, one of the many weights pressing down on him eased from his burden.  "I don't know how long it will take-"

"Let's start with a week and then we can go from there," Puffy said, mischief dancing in her gaze.  No, it was more conspiratorial than anything else. "And don't feel guilty about it.  This assignment – it was supposed to help you, to give you drive and provide more connections for your instincts to latch onto, but if you need a leave of absence, no one will care."

"No one here will," Ant countered. "But out there-"

"Fuck what they think."

"They didn't even know Sam was my dad," Ant- he didn't hiss, tried to keep his disposition easy to keep from worrying the kids. "They don't know-" That I'm a bearer. "They won't understand the favoritism." Except that they, much like Skeppy once had, could assume that it was because Ant was Sam's sugar baby and were catering to him out of a sense of loyalty to their lost friend. 

"That's true," Puffy said, kind enough to not dismiss his concerns entirely out of hand. "Even if there's a lot going on, the more stubborn traditionalists will notice and bring it up later, which I suppose is why it won't be called a leave of absence." She wagged her brows at him. "You'll be out on an assignment from me – collecting information too classified for them to know about – will that settle things?" 

"That- yeah." Ant blinked as more of the tension was drained from him. "Actually, that- thank you, Puffy." The last was said in a rushed exhale. "When can I-"

"We can pretend that I ordered you to leave now," Puffy said, sending him a wink. "But you should say goodbye to the pups before you go.  You know how they worry." 

Across the lawn, Sapnap and Karl had joined the chaos on the playground, overseeing from up close.  Yes, the pups would have plenty of love and support to hold them over until Ant's return, but until then, they deserved a proper goodbye. 

Ant swallowed hard, then nodded, content with this course of action.  He followed after Puffy, his resolve set. He needed an outside opinion.  He needed a fresh set of eyes. 

He needed a protector, but that was something he would have to choose for himself in time. 

~:~

Ant didn't know he would be leaving on a proper trip until he returned to Manifold Manor, but he knew who he needed to talk to and they were not here, and their next appearance could only be estimated from anywhere between one to three weeks, and Ant couldn't really wait that long.  So he packed, vaguely aware of the high-speed Nether Travel System he had only heard mentions of in passing.  He knew the access tunnel was at the Awe Estate and that Marquess Manifold could probably get him there, but the Shadow Guard wouldn't be able to follow, but he couldn't wait anymore- 

As if summoned by the knowledge that one of his grandsons had deviated from the schedule they took pains to review each evening, Marquess Manifold appeared about two hours after Ant had retreated to his suite, which was likely the fastest he could rearrange his own schedule and escape without drawing suspicion. 

"I need to talk to Lindsay," Ant offered by way of greeting. "I need-"

"Okay," the marquess interrupted, sounding... sounding supportive, agreeing without complaint, like there was no further conditions waiting on his tongue. "I'll send them a message. If I press the urgency of the matter, they can be here in four days."

That was probably better than Ant going to them which the whole Shadow Guard issue, but Ant despaired at the idea of having to wait that long, even if it was far faster than it would have been via normal means of travel. 

"But-" Ant fumbled. "The wedding. The-"

"You are a bearer in need," the marquess interrupted, and Ant was so unused to that, to taking into consideration the bearer aspects of himself, save to know how to hide them. "And they are your ally.  They will come, unless..." He cocked his head to the side. "It would take longer, but your father worked hard to establish an Overworld High Speed train system between the empire and Achieveburg.  It would take a week, but you could visit them personally.  But..." He trailed off, catching Ant's eye. "Without a proper protection detail, I don't think- considering all that has been lost-"

And instantly, Ant deflated. "No, you're right," he admitted, hanging his head. "I wasn't thinking."

Jack – a bearer who had been hiding his identity – had already been lost to the pack.  Eret and Sam had been killed in transit.  No one would feel good about Ant going off on his own, even if he didn't doubt that his grandfather would give him every tool in his arsenal to help Ant achieve that if it was what was needed. 

"You're distressed," the marquess said, because he'd been there for it, had seen Bad's reluctance. "It would be reasonable for you to be somewhat compromised."  

"I-" Ant wavered. "Puffy- I'm collecting information as a cover.  What do I do in the meantime?" 

"Just that," the marquess said, gladly shifting into problem solving mode. "Assist Calahan or- well, I suppose we could have a proper adoption party for you," the marquess continued, thoughtful. "Balls are always a grand opportunity to collect information, and the inside of the Manifold Estate hasn't been seen in quite some time.  It would be a wonderful distraction to the public – pull their eyes from other places – and it would make sense for you to oversee matters personally." 

"It would be seen as impulsive."

"On my part, perhaps," the marquess said. "But if I ordered it, you would of course acquiesce." He hummed. "I'll have Clara spread some rumors that this has been of interest to me – no one will be surprised by a grandfather wanting to show off his grandson, and my reticence in the matter could be related to Josh's current title struggles."

"I..." Ant swallowed hard. "I don't know if I deserve you."

"It is I who is the one that is in debt," the marquess corrected. "You are, as always, a gift in yourself, Ant, regardless of your second sex."

Because he was Josh's brother.  Sam's son. 

And now, the marquess's grandson. 

"Come, Ant," the marquess continued, grinning. "We will summon the best that the capital has to offer.  Your formal debut will be one of legends."

"I won't have a partner," Ant said, heat burning in his eyes.

"You'll have Josh," the marquess said. "A statement to solidify your place in our family." 

Yes, it was- that was a good story.  They could sell that.

Ant swallowed hard once more, found it no easier to breathe, but at least there was a plan in place. "Okay, let's do that." 

It would be a nice project to distract himself from the troubles that lay behind him at the castle.

~:~

“A party?” Josh echoed, his head cocked in interest as Ant caught him up on that afternoon’s developments.  It had been fortunate that the blaze hybrid had not learned of Ant’s early departure from the castle, otherwise he would have undoubtedly returned to the manor for dinner with substantially more anxiety and tension than he had.  Ant would have to send a gift basket to Puffy in thanks, for it was no doubt her handiwork.

“A debut,” Ant clarified. “I need one, a proper one, and with everything that’s happened…”

He needed a chance to clear his head, but that wasn’t something he needed to explain to Josh.  The blaze hybrid understood the implication well enough, his gaze darkening with recognition.  Ant was among the privileged few that could say that the castle had become somewhat of a constancy in his life.  He had slept his way into a spot in the aide pool, then slept his way into the Infrastructure Guild.  He held no guilt for those past actions – they were what he felt he needed to do at the time, and in a way it had been satisfying to take advantage of those greedy protectors.  Both had assumed that they were his first, and he had no intention of informing them otherwise. It wasn’t true, of course, Ant hadn’t wanted to lose such a culturally implied instance of importance to assholes willing to take advantage of a bearer for their own satisfaction – even a dirty one, or one who was thought to be dirty when apparently that wasn’t true – so that had been something he had claimed for himself.  His first partner had been kind and respectful, and for that, Ant was lucky.  Perhaps it had built up his expectations, but he was accustomed to the darker side of hybrid kind.  He wasn’t surprised when he’d ultimately had to whore himself out to get what he wanted, but it had felt like a small price to pay.  Perhaps now, he would view it in a different light.  Now he knew how such things tainted him in the eyes of nobility, for all that there were none left to tell the tale of it.  Papa and Duke Eret had made sure of it, managing to protect Ant from beyond the grave.  Now the only one who could be wounded by such knowledge was Ant himself. 

It was yet another strike against him, another burden to contend with.  Because now, not only could Ant be forcing himself into a relationship in which he was not wanted, he couldn’t even do Skeppy the courtesy of being clean, and he knew Skeppy wouldn’t care, but Ant did. 

Were his papa still alive, Sam would likely say that this interpretation of Ant’s past actions was self-sabotaging.  That he’d been doing the best that he could with the means he had available, and no one would blame him for that.  That Ant was holding on to this as a means of supporting the low self-worth he’d enforced for himself that was so difficult to shake.  Ant knew that his time as a scholarship student had affected him more than he would like to admit.  His efforts submitting into a purely business-like transaction made him view himself as a tool rather than an individual, cut off any of his potential to act as a proper bearer, but why would- he’d presented so young, and it just hadn’t mattered.  He thought it had, been so sure of it, so sure of his destruction when he’d admitted the terrible burden he’d been carrying for so long, and not one of them had blamed him.  Had turned him away.  Only in his wildest dreams had he conceived that they might comfort him, but all of them hd.  All of them, and his papa likely would have too.  It was yet another regret Ant would carry in his life, but he couldn’t linger in the hardships he had acquired. He had to hold onto the good that he had and take things one at a time, trying to bypass the negative thoughts that nipped at his heels.  The strong urging of how easily he could fix his problems if he just left, but were those just his own thoughts, or an accurate summation of the situation?  It was difficult to tell. 

“Is it what you want?” Josh asked – was one of the few that could do so without repercussion or criticism with his status as Ant’s baby.  It was an aspect of bearerhood that Ant had always despised, the way that other hybrids might defer to him (some of them, not all, as was demonstrated by the hybrids that Ant had interacted with previously). “Or is it what grandpa wants?”

“A combination of both,” Ant admitted, leaning over to give Josh’s shoulder a few reassuring pats. “I need space and a project that isn’t at the castle, and I do want the world to know that I’m proud to be a Frost-”

“Manifold,” Josh interrupted with a petulant mutter, the word offered fiercely but quietly under his breath so that it was distinctive enough to resonate but still quiet enough so as not to entirely cut off Ant’s train of thought.

It was enough to have Ant biting back a smile, his instincts buzzing all over again with a muted happiness.  He really did have the best baby, and Sam had- he’d been the entire reason that they had been brought together.  He’d supported their informal family arrangement for years without pressure or expectation, had been eager to do so. 

Why hadn’t Ant been able to claim him properly?  If he’d known that his secret would come out-

“You know if I took that last name they’d assume we were getting married,” Ant reminded him, giving into his desire to cackle at the face Josh made in respond, his expression crumpling into a look of disgust. 

“People are so dumb sometimes,” Josh complained, as though the absurdity of noble life and the rigid constructs it dictated were not entirely responsible for the majority of the issues they currently faced.  Josh gave a dramatic sigh (and it was the comfort he found in Ant combined with the stellar influence Ant had presented him over the years that undoubtedly allowed him to do so), ignoring the bulk of his food so he could aggressively butter his roll, frowning down on it as though it had personally affected the social climate of the empire. “Are you… are you okay?”

This was not the first time Josh had asked him this, the blaze hybrid kind enough to give Ant a few days to process his inadvertent coming out period before he moved in, and while Ant was grateful for the increase in cuddle sessions, he didn’t know if he would ever have a different answer for Josh. 

“If you need a distraction that bad,” Josh continued, tapping his knife against the pastry in his hand rather than utilizing it for its appointed job. “Are things with them- are they…”

“They’re not mad,” Ant cut in just as he had before. “They haven’t been mean or anything-”

“Of course they haven’t,” Josh interrupted with a grumble, voicing Ant’s inner thoughts.

They didn’t have a choice, did they?  Ant was a bearer, and bearer’s deserved extra consideration.  They shared this thought likely for different reasons – Josh, suspicious of their actual, legitimate response, and Ant, despairing the hand life had given him.  It made him feel like a rat, to aggrieve something that most hybrids would celebrate, but he was still working on adjusting his world view.  Ponk had been hounding him as politely and professionally as possible and for now, Ant had managed to avoid him, but Ant knew it was only a matter of time before the doctor recruited one of the older, royal bearers to pressure Ant into selecting the healthy choice for himself.  Diving into the entanglement of issues that had developed over the years that Ant would gladly dismiss as less debilitating than they actually were. 

For now, he could escape unscathed, but he knew that confrontation would be inevitable. 

“Have they talked to you about the future?” Josh asked, his gaze narrowed in expectation. He knew there were things Ant hadn’t told him, issues he wouldn’t normally push but felt compelled to for the sake of satisfying his own Protector instincts.  Ant was a vulnerable member of his pack, and it was comforting to know that he sought to protect his brother, and Ant already knew he wasn’t a replacement for Jack, he just- they were all rolling with the punches that life continued to deliver unto them. 

Ant paused, lips pressed together in a firm line as he considered his replies.  He didn't want to lie to Josh, even if the protector currently had so many burdens placed upon his shoulders, even if he had his own period of grief he was working through. Loss wasn't a competition, and Josh had asked, and it would be a disservice to him to lie, but that didn't mean that Ant necessarily had to tell the truth either. 

He must have hesitated for too long because Josh went still, every inch of his focus placed on Ant.  He was posed, gaze narrowed in that way protectors got when they had assigned themselves a mission, which in itself was enough to confirm Ant's path forward.  His baby had instincts he needed to indulge as well, and it wasn't fair for Ant to hog all the catering to second sex peculiarities.

The cat hybrid held up a hand, mostly to bid for patience, before turning his attention to the butler.

Marquess Manifold's right-hand man in regards to household management lived up to his reputation, giving a simple nod before motioning towards the rest of the servants. 

"I believe the kitchen staff may require additional assistance for the dessert course, my lord. May we be temporarily dismissed?"

"Of course," Josh said, the tension ever so minutely easing from his shoulders. "Thank you."

"It our pleasure to serve, my lord," the butler said, shooting Ant one of his subdued smiles before he ushered the rest of the servants from the room.  He had already expressed his gratitude to Ant once before. 

"You have given life to this manor again," he had said. "Thank you for looking after our masters.  They have lost so much, but in you they have gained happiness, and for that, we are all most grateful." 

Ant, unaccustomed to such open candor from anyone who wasn't an immediate packmember, had managed to hold back his overwhelmed tears until that evening, the cat hybrid torn between gratitude and pain, because he was glad that he could help, that they were happy, but it was just so hard to deal with when Sam wasn't there to enjoy it with them. 

"Don't panic," Ant advised when they finally left. "It's not bad-"

"Ant," Josh interrupted, too familiar with the cat hybrid to allow him to dance around the matter the way he normally would have back before the consort trials.  To put it frankly, the blaze hybrid was onto his shit now. "You're not responsible for my emotional reactions.  I'll react how I want to react-"

"I'm just trying to preface things."

"You realize that's not as comforting as you think it might be?" Josh bit out and then, upon realizing how easily he'd reclaimed the tension from before, he sighed, making an effort to not work Ant up with his own anxiety. "I'm sorry, just-"

"Yeah, we're all on high alert right now," Ant said, mustering a smile. "It's understandable-"

"You're stalling."

"You were a lot cuter before you knew my tricks," Ant complained, feeling his cheeks puff out in a show of annoyance that thankfully achieved his goal, earning the smallest of grins from Josh, the blaze hybrid's fondness unable to be restrained. 

"I have always been the cutest," Josh asserted, and that was- that was progress too, because it had been difficult for Josh to be playful, to be anything other than the perfectly respectable, reserved individual that their grandfather had forced him to be, before-

Before Jack.

The late bearer had helped them all in so many ways, and Ant would always be grateful for it.  Would not allow his own sorrow to forget what Jack had given them.  After all, hadn't he given a speech much like that to Philza once before?  Ant had heard the royal pups speak of it, heard it from Philza himself, who was still holding onto Jack's teachings. 

It was a terrible thing, to reduce the memory of a person to merely their loss.  That wasn't fair.

It also wasn't fair that Ant was still stalling, and he could feel Jack's presence pouting at him, even the small blaze managing to reach the end of his patience and motion for Ant to move on already. 

"You have," Ant agreed, trying to infuse all of his love and care into his words. "You are cute and I want to be honest with you, it's just- it's difficult to talk about." 

Whatever ease of disposition Ant had managed to earn from Josh disappeared in less than a moment, the blaze hybrid releasing a low growl. "So they are being foolish." 

"You don't even know which one of them's the problem," Ant asserted, feeling defensive of his chosen for all that they weren't really his chosen.

"I assume it's Skeppy," Josh sniffed. "I'll talk to him-"

"It's Bad," Ant interrupted, because Skeppy had been- he'd literally been the best since it had all gone down. He treated Ant as normal, though granted, he always was certain that they had a chaperone of some kind.  Sure, his smiles were a bit strained around the edges and there was a constant shadow of sorrow lingering at his heels, but he was trying.

Bad simply gave Ant polite and professional distance, all but eliminating the years of friendship they had built together, and that was much, much worse. 

Josh froze, the path of his rage cut off at the knees, leaving him floundering as he grappled with news that seemed to have completely blindsided him. 

"It was Bad," Josh echoed, as though perhaps he hadn't heard Ant correctly. "Bad." 

Ant knew his brother wasn't intending to be cruel, but the repetition stung a bit, bringing a familiar heat back to his gaze. "Yes, it was Bad."

"Bad, your bosom buddy from secondary school," Josh repeated, expression slack with surprise. "That Bad-"

"He doesn't want me," Ant interrupted in a hiss, lifting his hands up as he felt his claws extend in an inherent protective defense. "He doesn't see me like that, and he doesn't even want to- he kept talking about how this would be the safer option."

"How so?" Josh pressed, his brows furrowed in interest. 

"I don't know, he didn't elaborate!" Ant hissed. "It's just an excuse-"

"Or," Josh interrupted, and he wouldn't- he wouldn't do that for no good reason, so Ant fell silent. "Or, hear me out – he is super, duper scared." 

Ant, who had been fully prepared to throw himself headfirst into another grand pity party complete with self-pity cakes and every depressing song he'd ever heard – paused, because that...

That seemed plausible.

Reasonably, wonderfully plausible.

"Think about it," Josh continued when he saw that Ant was properly listening. "So many awful things have happened lately – Bad is likely scared out of his mind.  And he's a Nether refugee, he's had to fight to survive his entire life."

Bad never spoke of the life he and Sapnap had before he'd managed to talk their way into the empire – catching one of the Las Nevadas caravans who properly understood their mission of charity and goodwill.  All Ant knew was that the Nether had been isolated and unforgiving, which is why he had suspected that Bad had such a sweet and cheerful disposition to counter it.  If he was back in purely survival mode, then he didn't have time to factor his feelings into things. It didn't really matter how he felt about Ant at all – that wasn't a luxury he could afford to consider.  What mattered was that he could keep Skeppy safe by marrying him off to Ant.

Perhaps Ant was a bit egotistical in assuming that he meant more to Bad than he really did, but comparatively, it seemed like the more reasonable theory.  

"If that's the case, there's little we can do to reassure him," Josh continued. "This is something he has to come around to on his own." 

"I do not like how logical you are being," Ant complained, claws detracting as the rush of adrenaline faded away, his heart rate slowing to a more manageable thump-thump-thump. "I liked it way more when I thought Bad simply found me undesirable." 

"Yeah, that's not how non-bearers work," Josh said, waving him off distractedly, his brows furrowed in concentration. "Even those that are incapable of a romantic or sexual connection to a bearer – who feel no sway towards such things – would be honored to assist or be claimed by an individual designed to help communities at large.  It's a privilege that few are privy to, for all that the royal pack has skewed those metrics." He shook his head, muttering to himself. "Honestly, it's a surprise that there hasn't been more public discontent about them hogging- but anyway, if a bearer wanted it, most hybrids would be happy to assist however they were capable, it wouldn't matter if Bad only saw you as a brother or not." Josh nodded to himself, a definite, powerful thing. "If he pushed you away, it was because he had a greater motivation than the primal drive to aid a bearer, and the only thing greater than that-"

"Is the need to protect a bearer," Ant finished quietly, stunned as he readjusted his worldview process Josh's suggestion.

The thing was, it did make the most sense.  It was true that Ant had been secretly terrified that perhaps Bad still thought he was tainted because of his early presentation – like maybe that was just a Nether Culture thing, or maybe he knew about Ant sleeping his way into the castle, but- but no one gave two shits about the things Jack and Quackity had suffered, thought it made them less, so Ant was probably okay.  He had to believe in Bad's decency, and the thing was- he knew- he knew that the doctor was willing to make difficult choices for the success of his pack.  Ant knew that was simply a facet of Bad's character, he would do it in a heartbeat if it helped Sapnap, because Sapnap was his world.

And Skeppy was too.  If he could 'save' Skeppy, 'save' Ant from whatever he was afraid of, then wouldn't Bad do that without hesitation?

"The real question is, is he worried about an active threat, which is something we can help him with, or are his protective instincts simply on overdrive because of everything that's been going on?" 

"I... I think it might be the former," Ant admitted, reviewing everything he knew.  He'd hated – in a manner that was probably just a mask for internalized sexism or something – how the behavior of those around him had shifted after they'd learned of his second sex.  For Bad, that meant he wasn't as direct as he'd normally be, because he couldn't be that brisk with a bearer, not if he wasn't sure it was what they wanted.  He couldn't really make demands that went against Ant's wishes in terms of pack development, but if he felt compelled enough, he could drop hints, would drop hints even if it might be perceived as rude, because that was what was needed to protect Ant. 

And that was- had been- yet another reason for Ant's sorrow, had been something else Bad had said that he'd been steadily repressing. 

"You know, we could always announce the engagement without you coming out," Bad had explained cheerfully. "If I go for a more political match, we'd established our engagement in a time of stability, when- when fairytale romance was more acceptable, but now with everything up in the air, it would be reasonable for me to-"

"That's a nice point," Ant had managed to choke out, and it'd hurt so much that he hadn't even mentioned it to anyone, but now...

"He was trying to rush me," Ant said, something that made Josh go still again. "As much as one could rush a bearer.  This is something he needs to happen quickly."

"Before someone finds out about it," Josh surmised, putting into words the nebulous concerns Ant hadn't been able to articulate. "Because if someone found out that he was trying to dissuade you, someone who wanted to use you as leverage-"

"He'd have to change his mind," Ant said, coming to the conclusion with a startled blink. "Is Bad being blackmailed?" 

"It certainly seems that way, but we can't know for certain until we get some kind of proof."

"Do you think Skeppy-"

"No." Josh shook his head, and Ant didn't know how much he needed to hear that until he was swamped with an all-encompassing wave of relief. "Because that would keep him safest, wouldn't it?"

And Skeppy seemed confused too, at least, as much as he would show, hiding it with bright smiles.

It made so much sense.

"But he must suspect that something's up," Josh said. "There's no way he'd go along with this otherwise."

"No," Ant said, a strange sort of calm falling over him. "He loves Bad too much." 

Before he could enter any sort of morose train of thought, a crumpled napkin bounced against his head, jerking him to full coherency with a startled blink.

"No pity parties," Josh ordered, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Look, I know you're jonesing for their bones-"

"Oh my god," Ant complained, realizing with a sudden clarity that Josh had literally been listening to years of snark from him, and he'd been so sweet and quiet that Ant hadn't recognized that the blaze hybrid could turn that teasing back on him like the little goblin brother that he was. 

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think most people know that, including Bad and Skeppy," Josh continued, unbothered. "But I know you, and I know this is hard, but I need you to focus, champ." 

"Papa's death really brought out the sassiness in you."

"Life is short," Josh countered with an unimpressed shrug. "And I can't let you keep deflecting.  Someone has to keep you in line."

"Betrayed," Ant complained. "Betrayed by my baby." 

"Your baby will save you from your self-sabotaging ways without apology," Josh countered, one brow quirked. "In all seriousness though, you need to talk to Skeppy." 

Ant groaned, dramatically flopping back in his chair, but Josh wasn't buying it.

"You have to," his baby pressed. "I know it's scary-"

"What if we're wrong?"

"We're not." Josh's counter was immediate and firm. "I know your brain is telling you that the problem really just might be you, but your brain is wrong, and I have a thing or a hundred to say to it." 

It was eerily close to something Ant had said to papa once upon a time, and that brought a smile to his lips, something bittersweet but-

But he wasn't going to reduce Sam to his absence.  He had to hold onto the good too. 

And with that, all the objections Ant held melted away. Sure, he might be wrong, but there was really only one way to find out. 

"You've really matured, baby," Ant said, a fond smile pulling at his lips. "I'm proud of you." 

It was satisfying to see the way the blaze hybrid puffed up, preening despite his efforts to restrain himself. "I'm proud of you too," Josh said with the same devastating sincerity Sam had used to approach everything. "Now, let's start planning.  We need to orchestrate a private way for you and Skeppy to talk." 

"Without giving everyone heart attacks," Ant sighed. 

"I don't think it will be as difficult as we assume," Josh said, his smile widening. "We're talking privately now, after all, aren't we?"

"So what are you saying?" Ant huffed. "We should just ask him to dinner?" 

The shit-eating nature to Josh's grin felt more like a personal attack than anything else, because apparently yes, it could be that simple, and Ant just-

"You were so much cuter when you whined about me pinching your cheeks," Ant grumbled, picking up his fork so he could stab angrily at his delicious, delicious fish. 

"The apprentice has overthrown the master," Josh purred, and Ant-

Ant couldn't be prouder.

Chapter Text

Skeppy accepted the invitation to dinner, because of course he did.  Ant was the one who had asked him, and who was he to deny Ant?  

They had scheduled it on a night when grandpa was occupied elsewhere – something they had cleared with him ahead of time for the sake of their cumulative anxiety.  They might be keeping secrets from the rest of the world, but for their sanity, the Manifold's would be on the same page, conquering the challenges life threw at them one at a time.  Considering the fact that they made it well known that Josh would be in attendance – had orchestrated the affair even, to further cement the bonds between the Blade and Manifold family with the passing of his brother, to support the Blade's promotion to a duchy with his own current status as the heir to the Awes – Skeppy was allowed to come unaccompanied, because it was all but guaranteed that Josh would be present and as such, he would be a sufficient and respectable chaperone and even if he wasn't, it was a dinner, which meant that there would be plenty of staff on hand to oversee things.  So long as they didn't secret out to the garden or shift to a private study or something, no one's reputations would be put into question.  They were as protected as they could be, so now they just had to engage in as normal a dinner party as possible. 

It was a bit awkward.  Skeppy was valiantly doing his best, maintaining his usual air of cheer, but he and Josh hadn't been awarded much time to get to know each other.  Most of what the golem hybrid knew of Ant's brother was from Ant himself, and then from the brief period where Jack had worked with the Infrastructure Guild, and during that point, Skeppy had been more focused on the blaze bearer than Josh himself.  Still, Josh was on a mission, so he pushed past his usual reserve to make small talk, grinning when Ant peppered in his own light anecdotes, and it was almost like a normal meal and not a terrible mockery of what comfortable friendship should look like.

At the preapproved time, the butler cleared his throat once more. "My lord, I believe the kitchen might require our assistance for the dessert course." 

"Then you are more than welcome to provide it," Josh soothed, dismissing them with a wave of his hand, keeping his gaze locked on Skeppy as though waiting for some kind of objection.

There was none, nothing other than a smile that was plastered in place like a shield, Skeppy preparing for the worst.

It hurt Ant's heart to look at.  

Josh waited for the staff to be gone from the room for a few long moments before dropping his disposition of quiet civility and allowing the exhaustion they'd all been contending with to show on his face. "I'll cut to the point-" 

"You don't have to give me a shovel talk," Skeppy insisted, holding up his hands in a show of surrender. "I mean, you can if you want – of course, I'd never deny you that-"

"This isn't a shovel talk," Ant interrupted, his face feeling warm at the thought of it. 

"This is a war meeting," Josh corrected, cutting to the heart of the issue.

Unfortunately, he did so with a foreboding aggressiveness that made Skeppy go tense, which just-

"Good-good-good," Ant offered in Bearer, trying to ease Skeppy's anxiety. "It's not like that, Skeppy, we're just worried about Bad."

Contrasting the comfort Ant thought this might bring Skeppy, the golem hybrid somehow managed to become even tenser, for all that his smile never dropped off his lips. "He does treasure you, Ant-"

"We think he's being blackmailed," Josh interrupted, his voice hard. "He's scared of something and he doesn't want you or Ant to get caught up in it, so he's pushing you away instead." 

Skeppy froze, eyes wide as he took in a slow, deep breath.  Much like Ant, he may have been too blinded by the pain the situation caused him to analyze it properly.  It might have seemed impossible to look beyond the new mission appointed to him and the ache it wore on his heart. 

"This isn't a theory we've spread around, aside from grandpa," Josh explained. "The less that know, the better, it's just what makes the most sense." 

"It... yeah," Skeppy whispered, blinking rapidly as though trying to hold back tears.  Ant longed to go to him, to gather him close and soothe his chosen, but they weren't in that place yet and might possibly never be. "Yeah, that- that's what it seems like- but we can't talk to Bad about it.  He won't say anything." 

Skeppy knew this because Bad had already not spoken to him.  Just as Josh predicted, Bad was playing it safe by minimizing variables.  There was some protection to be found in utter ignorance, after all. 

"Okay," Josh began carefully, keeping his focus on Skeppy now that they were all on the same page. "My greatest question in all this is logistics – who could pose a threat to Bad now?  With all the security enhancements that have been made to the castle-" In light of everything that had happened. "-who could possibly get through all that to bring him harm?  And more than that, but who would be powerful enough to make him too afraid to reach out for help?" 

Because Bad had many powerful and capable individuals on his side.  He had the emperor, first and foremost, he had Callahan, he had two bearers and a handful of dukes who were eager allies.  Bad had the resources to deal with a threat, the only reason he would ignore them was-

Was the same reason Ant had kept quiet for so many years.  Because whatever was being held over his head was something he didn't want to taint anyone else.  Perhaps it was TNT, prepped and ready to explode at any moment. 

"It's information," Skeppy said, realization dawning on him. "Old information, maybe, from the Nether."

"Or old friends from the Nether," Ant offered. "He doesn't- did he talk to you-"

"No," Skeppy shook his head. "No, he doesn't talk about that time much, and he put on a strong face for Sapnap.  He thought their journey to the Overworld was all smooth sailing, and Bad backs him on that but I... I've always suspected that it wasn't."

If they could all talk their way into the Overworld via the right material convoy, wouldn't every Nether refugee do so?  Wilbur had done that, after all, but the way he had spoken of it made it seem like a one in a million chance.

But Bad had managed it years earlier, when he was eighteen.  When Sapnap was eight. 

Ant didn't know if he liked the picture these facts were painting. 

Bad had been scouted by Duchess Wastaken, who had recognized his skills and whose recommendation had gotten him into secondary school.  Sam had personally funded the Nether Demon's research, but how had Duchess Wastaken learned of him in the first place, if Bad hadn't possessed his medical accreditations back then?  Ant had always assumed it was just the work of her information network, but maybe that was the problem. 

An eighteen-year-old refugee, new to the Overworld and exposed to a mass of hybridkind when he had spent years in isolation, responsible for the wellbeing of an eight year old who'd only ever known him as a parent.  Ant had never been surprised why Bad didn't want to discuss it – it must have been a trying time – but it would have been made easier with help. 

And if that help wanted him to pay them back now... or if Bad had been forced to do something unsavory-

"We need more information," Josh declared, all of them seeming to draw the same conclusions. "But more than that, we need a plan of attack."

"What are we supposed to do if Bad won't talk to us?" Skeppy asked, gaze tinged with a certain wetness.  He was at the end of his rope, Ant could see that now, wrought with a tension derived from confusion and a need to protect someone that was beyond his reach.  He was likely frustrated and had no outlet at which to aim these feelings.  No corner or support to turn to that might understand where he was coming from.

"We consider things rationally," Josh said, a firm hint to his tone.  He was falling back on the training Sam had given them, their papa prioritizing logical analysis over the sway of feelings.  Papa might not have been the best at analyzing social dynamics, but he played a mean game of chess, and it was a skill he had passed on to both Josh and Ant. "Bad won't talk to us – we need to figure out why that is." 

"Because the less that know, the better," Skeppy ground out, no doubt worked up at the necessary repetition. 

"That's what we assume."

"Well, we're assuming a lot right now, aren't we?" Skeppy snapped. "We don't even know if he's being blackmailed!"

"Would he act this way if he wasn't?" Josh pressed, not backing down an inch.

There was a tense silence, and then Skeppy's shoulders slumped, the golem hybrid seeming to collapse in on himself. "So um- is there another reason he might not talk to us?"

"It's really not the lack of reaching out to us that intrigues me," Josh admitted. "It's the lack of reaching out to anyone.  Bad has plenty of powerful allies that don't regularly interact with him.  Who aren't always seen in the public eye.  You think Grand Judge Callahan wouldn't be able to maintain a poker face?"

"That- that makes sense," Skeppy allowed, nodding slowly. "Maybe he just hasn't had a chance to subtly reach out to Callahan?"

"He's the crown prince," Josh said, tapping his fingers against the table to emphasize the words. "You're telling me in all the hubbub of- of kidnappings and assassinations that they couldn't manage a five minute conversation privately?  There had to be at least a half dozen opportunities to do so." 

"So it's a recent problem," Ant said, stewing it over. 

"I... I don't think it is," Skeppy said, swiftly derailing that train of thought. "He's been acting... I don't know."

It was as good as a confirmation.  Skeppy knew Bad better than anyone – at least, as much as Bad allowed himself to be known.  If Skeppy thought something was going on, there was a good chance there was.

"I thought it was all- everything," Skeppy said. "But after Duke- after your papa and Eret died, he became more withdrawn.  I thought he was just in mourning like me, but..." 

"But now you don't think that's the case," Josh was kind enough to finish for him, voice gentle. "Someone got in contact with him after that.  We have to figure out how.  Either a servant passed him a message, or they used the secret passages-"

"But security's tighter now more than ever!" Skeppy urged. "Look, I know your theory makes the most sense, but I don't think there's any feasible way someone could have cornered him secretly just to dole out threats.  The security's too tight."

"We can't account for everything," Josh said, his voice tight. "Jack was kidnapped after they'd increased the security to the royal wing, after all.  After they'd made it supposedly impenetrable." A heavy silence filled the room, interrupted only by their breathing. "The carriage papa and Lord Consort Eret used – it had rune enhancements-" 

Skeppy shook his head. "I get your point."

"You don't," Josh snapped. "Impossible things have already happened too many times to devastating effects.  Someone got something through to Bad – so we don't know how.  Maybe they have a magic user on their side, or something.  Maybe it's a totem or a tainted Starborn.  We don't know, we can only keep an eye out in case they try to reach out to him again, and in the meantime, we have to- to figure out what could be so dangerous that Bad couldn't share it with anyone."

It couldn't be an attack against himself.  If Bad had to sell his body just to get out of the Nether- they'd already- with Jack, he'd been there for so much of Jack's healing journey, surely Bad would have taken some of it to heart.  Unless he thought it was different since he was a prince- 

"We have to investigate," Ant said. "Track down the traders that got Bad out of the Nether and talk to Duchess Wastaken about how she found Bad.  If we're careful- if we trace this thing backwards, maybe we can get some clues." 

"So that's the plan we can do in the shadows," Josh said, nodding as they got back on track. "Now we need to choose our public plan of action, do whatever we can to best help Bad." He steepled his fingers together, pressing rough pads against one another before twisting his hands together in a display that indicated he was building himself up for something.  Something they wouldn't like to hear. "For Bad, right now, he needs Ant distanced from him, and he wants to protect Skeppy-"

"You think we should go through with the engagement," Skeppy interrupted, realizing where Josh was going with things. 

"That's what Bad wants," Josh said. 

"But then he'll be alone!" Skeppy snapped. "That will make him more vulnerable-" 

"I know I'm biased here, but eventually, Ant's secret is going to come out," Josh cut in, voice hard. "We need to protect his reputation and Bad wants to put you out of the line of fire.  Going along with that for now will be a large distraction – a show.  During that, we can navigate our investigation, but we can't just do nothing." 

"I'm sorry," Ant whispered, because this really was all his fault.  If he'd just made sure that Sapnap was always around- if he'd been more careful. "Skeppy-"

"No, you- you were just doing your best, Ant, like me with the diamonds," Skeppy said, mustering a small smile. He genuinely didn't seem angry, more resigned than anything else, tired out of his mind. "Josh is right.  I hate it, but he's right."

"You two could always marry Bad later, when things have calmed down," Josh said, like it was a done deal. "People would understand.  It makes sense for a bearer to be possessive of their chosen protector, to want a period of isolated time with them." 

"But bearers usually have multiple protectors," Skeppy pointed out. 

"You and I will have to count for now," Josh countered, voice firm. "Me as his brother, you as his partner.  And there's grandpa.  That's three whole protectors.  That should buy us some time from criticisms that Ant should have more." 

"O-Okay then," Ant said, feeling dazed. "So we get engaged." 

"We can do it at your debut," Josh said. "Do it all.  Welcome you to the Manifolds, welcome you as a bearer, and announce your engagement."

"Fuck," Ant complained, allowing his face to fall into the shelter of his hands while he wrapped his head around all- that.  "That's going to be a uh- busy night." 

"I'm sorry," Josh said, seemingly genuinely apologetic. "I know this isn't how either of you wanted to do things, but we just-"

"We know," Skeppy interrupted, mustering a small grin. "We're just trying to keep our heads above water right now.  Eventually, things will get more stable." 

"We should talk to Duchess Wastaken and George about how we want to present this to the public," Josh said. "I know they're both busy right now, and I am too-"

"I'm on leave for party planning," Ant cut in. "I can talk to-" George seemed to be charging everywhere with a perpetual scowl nowadays that only lessened when spending time with FJ and Foolish, so- "Duchess Wastaken.  I'll make the appointment through grandpa."

"You'll need to arrange a session with Ponk," Josh said with a sigh. "Or- or a tea with Puffy or something.  You two need to have a proper conversation alone before you go into this- establish- guidelines or whatever.  Rules.  Expectations."

"The way you do with any marriage," Skeppy said, voice tinged with a hysterical giggle.

Ant swallowed another apology.  At this point, it would be more for him than Skeppy. 

"That is actually true," Josh sniffed, taking none of his shit. "I know it will be hard, but remember, you are- you are friends, at the end of the day."

New friends, though.  They'd established their positive relationship for maybe a few weeks before Ant had to go and ruin everything by falling into his instincts.  They had barely any foundation for positive support, and Skeppy- he hadn't asked for this.

But it was here, and they were dealing with it. 

"Right," Skeppy said, nodding. "Right, we can- for Bad."

"For Bad," Ant echoed, and maybe that wasn't the exact reason he wanted to base his marriage around, but much like Skeppy, he did love the Nether Demon and wanted to help him however he could.

And if Bad wanted this, then this was what would happen.

~:~

Ant's appointment with Duchess Wastaken went well.  

She invited him over to tea – thus bolstering his position as a ward to the Manifolds.  Few were allowed access to the Wastaken Estate, and Ant had been instructed to leave his carriage curtains undrawn so that any watchers would know it was he and not Josh who made this journey.  By this point, one would think that he'd be accustomed to the productions nobility put on the for the sake of navigating the intricate social world, but papa had always been on the more reclusive end of things.  That combined with Josh being on the tightest of lockdowns, and Ant hadn't been forced to engage in this song and dance.  It was likely why he'd been bold enough to visit Bad and Skeppy when he was alone.

It was all so stupid.  What did it matter if his reputation was tainted?  It would be what he deserved, at the end of the day, but he knew this was bigger than himself.  Such a thing would damage the Manifolds who would soon become a duchy, would emotionally wound his pack and close friends, creating a permanent cloud overhead as they were weighed down with guilt at not properly helping a bearer.  To try and fight it would do them more harm than good, which was why Ant had submitted to Josh's plan, for all that he sort of – definitely – hated it. 

But it wouldn't be forever.  He couldn't let his self-loathing block out that fact.  Eventually, they would make this right.  They would help Bad, they would get to the bottom of things, and then they could all be married without problem – even if Bad only cared for him as a brother, he would still welcome that, right?  And then they could all somehow live happily ever after, they just had to get to that point. 

Hence tea with the duchess, who welcomed him at the front door of the elusive estate.  While Ant had seen the duchess without her mask a handful of times – it wasn't a requirement for non-blooded Wastakens, but the piglin hybrid had donned hers out of solidarity – it seemed strange for her to do it for him rather than papa, who had always earned small, fond grins from the duchess.  

"Lord Frost," she greeted with a tip of her head, unfailingly polite despite not needing to exhibit such pleasantries.  Ant's second sex was still a tightly guarded secret, so this was- this was simply care displayed because of his father. "Thank you for indulging my last-minute request."

"I think I'm the one who should be saying that, your grace," Ant said, dipping into a proper bow – the one that Sam had taught him, not the academy. "Ant Frost greets the duchess of Wastaken, the shield of the north."

"Please rise," the duchess said, her voice gentle. "We have no need for such formalities here.  Come, I have refreshments waiting in the sunroom."

With the cool bite of winter beginning to properly set into the capital, Ant was intrigued by the choice.  It would be nice to get access to sunlight, however gloomy the accompanying greenery might be.

The duchess let out a chuckle as she ushered him inside. "It is George's favorite place to take a break in these cooler months," she explained. "I had hoped that might be the case for you as well."

Ant laughed. "I suppose us cat hybrids are predictable."

"Hardly so," the duchess soothed. "Perhaps in a few things, but in most aspects, I've found that felines have a tendency to react how you might least expect it." She offered out her arm to him – perhaps not the most traditional arrangement, for all that it was technically correct.  Usually it was the male that offered to the female, or in the case of two females, the protector to the peacekeeper, but she was both a larger, more battle-focused hybrid type and outranked him socially, so the setup was ultimately at her discretion.  When he took it, she rested her other hand atop his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I've also learned that they have a tendency to bear the brunt of their burdens alone, forgetting that there are those that would willingly give them aid." 

Ant's throat felt thick. "Are you okay, your grace?"

"I am tired," the duchess answered honestly as she led him through the manor. "One son borders on the edge of insanity, and the other only returns out of a sense of obligation.  And Drista-" She sighed. "Piglin hybrids are especially sensitive to matters of the sounder, but we are not here to talk about me." 

"You deserve someone to lean on too," Ant spoke up, his bearer sense of justice roaring at the back of his mind. 

"I have Drake and Puffy, pup," the duchess said, sounding terribly fond. "But thank you.  You... you remind of Sammy- he too had an unerring sense of right and wrong that he refused to back down from." 

The comparison took Ant off guard, bringing a heat to his eyes, for all that he knew it was true.  Sam's uncompromising nature may have isolated him somewhat, and Ant had always gladly copied his papa's behaviors.  It had felt right to him too, for all that he was- near the end-

"I'll admit," the duchess continued, guiding him into a light and airy room.  It was just what Ant might suspect of a duke-worthy sunroom – pale and elegant wallpaper, light but intricate molding.  A table and chairs that could only be described as delicate – weaving patterns and velvet green cushions – was positioned next to a large window that looked out on the fading garden, and yet despite this, the room was perfectly insulated with rooms that maintained a comfortable level of heat.  If he did not know better, he could think it was fall. "I have been expecting this conversation for some time now."

Ant – who had gone into no detail about the purpose of this meeting – paused, his heart tensing in his chest. 

"You have?" he asked more clumsily than he would like.

And yet, the duchess did not look on him with pity, simply pulling out a chair for him before taking her own. "I was close friends with your father.  With Eret.  And while George has Foolish to turn to, while I hope to speak to him properly on this matter at some point, you yourself..." She trailed off, lips pressed together in thought.  Her tusks were smaller than Techno's, but larger than Wilbur's, proving that she was more intended for battle than- what was it?  Trading?  There were subcategories of piglin hybrids too, as though things weren't complicated enough as it was.  Quackity had mentioned offhand once about how there were different subtypes of avians beyond the different species of birds, but he, Philza, and Tommy were all of the same type, so it wasn't an issue.  Honestly, it made Ant's head spin, but it was a diatribe he gladly clung to as he tried to weather the storm of whatever Duchess Wastaken had in store. "Marquess Manifold and your papa only reconnected recently," the duchess explained. "But I have been present for most of Sam's tenure as Duke of Awe.  So." She folded her hands in her lap, cocking her head to the side in a shift that caused the few silky, golden hairs that had spilled from her braid to brush against her cheeks. "How can I be of service to you, Ant?  What would you like to know about your papa?"

Ant should- he needed to- he should correct her, redirect things, but he-

She would always help with a mission, especially if she knew he was a bearer, but this was something- he needed this too.  He needed it so much he could barely speak of it.

"We will have more chances to speak," the duchess said, seeming to read his mind. "This isn't a now or nothing situation.  You have plenty of time to organize your thoughts, but since we are here, I would like to help you however I can.  Address the things that may be most burdening you."

"Because I'm Sam's son."

"Exactly," she said, her answer immediate.

This wasn't because he was a bearer.  This – was a piglin hybrid's loyalty, their sensitive connection to pack dynamics.  She looked on him as though he were a nephew, sought to help him entirely because of the connection Sam had to her.

Duke Wastaken knew about Ant's second sex.  He'd known since the beginning as he was in charge of Ant's Shadow Guard.  The very same guard that Jack had been denied due to his sensitivities – it had been heavily debated, for all that Ant wasn't supposed to know about it.  Duke Wastaken had known, but in accordance to bearer privacy laws, he had not shared this with his wife.  To the duchess, it didn't matter at all. 

Ant was here for Bad, but-

But they would have many chances to speak, the duchess just said so.  For now, Ant wanted answers.

He swallowed hard. "Do you know what Sam was working on?" Ant asked, the question that had been hovering on the tip of his tongue for weeks now, the question that his grandfather always pretended not to hear. "Near the end?" 

He was unsure if this was an unexpected question, though it did cause the duchess's eyes to furrow, as though she had not considered it.  And then a sort of resignation filtered through her features, the piglin hybrid releasing a quiet sigh. "I had hoped that he might make you privy, but I suppose it was more reasonable that he wouldn't.  He would want to protect you and Josh at all costs."

And what greater protection could be offered than that of utter ignorance?  In terms of nobility, plausible deniability was the greatest aid when dancing around legal magic. 

"So you know?" Ant asked, hands gripping into the edge of the table to stabilize himself.  It took everything he had not to dig his claws into the polished, carefully carved wood. 

"I do not," the duchess said, not hesitating to answer. "I suspect it had something to do with something Puffy and Pete had been looking into, but I cannot say for certain.  Still, I will gladly offer all that I know.  All I can say is that he seemed... troubled, but for all my reassurance, he did not share his burden." 

The tension leaked from Ant in a heavy rush, causing him to collapse back in his chair. "That's what he did to me too." 

"Sam's discipline is one of his greatest strengths, but in terms of relationship vulnerability, it was a terrible drawback.  It did not matter if the trials might hurt him – if he thought they could wound others, he would not share them." She sighed once more, leaning back in her chair. "Initially, I had assumed that this was a direct relation to Eret potentially gaining more mates." 

Ant paused, confused by the comment. "What does that have to do with anything?" 

The duchess gave the slightest nod, as though confirming something to herself.  Confirming what Ant did not know. "For many years, Sam viewed Eret with the reverence of one who had hung the moon – his fondness, while restrained to private company, was not something he hid." 

That was- that was news to Ant.  As far as he'd known, Eret and Sam had always been against each other.  They had a professional relationship, but when Foolish had come along, Eret had been the first to sabotage Sam's attempt at happiness.

...right?  Except Sam hadn't been single then-

Ant shook his head, a low ache pounding at the base of his skull.  

Stupid, Sam had always been single.  He'd never married.  He'd never been married; Ant would remember that. 

"They were close," the duchess continued. "Jordan was close to them as well, and when he died, Sam... Sam was the only one that insisted on foul play, but he'd already lost so much by that point, it was assumed-" She released a harsh breath, head jerking to the side as she seemed to fight her own frustrations. "Sam was right, of course, but that seemed to be the first division in his and Eret's relationship, and then after Kristin died..."

"Papa was so sad," Ant said, ears drooping. "Sad during her whole pregnancy.  She used to visit him so much, and then she called for him less and less, and then she died."

There was a quiet moment of silence – a period of mourning to the empress that they'd lost.  Her reign was brief, but Empress Kristin had brought a light to the castle that hadn't been replicated until the arrival of Quackity. 

"Ah," the duchess said, dragging Ant from his thoughts.  She was looking out the window, eyes unfocused on the cool scenery. "He must have known then.  That explains it."

Ant tensed. "Explains..."

"Kristin had a private meeting with Bad and Sam the night she was attacked," the duchess said. "Few know of this truth, Ant, and it is not something I share lightly.  What I say now must not leave the confines of this room, but in the middle of her pregnancy, Kristin was- she was poisoned.  Bad was brought in to stabilize her, and we’d thought- naively, we though that was that, but Bad had known better.”

“So she- the diagnosis was shared with Sam,” Ant said, still wrapping his head around the fact that the empress had been poisoned, had been hit with something so deadly and not one damn detail had leaked about it.  Even Ant- the only thing he knew was that avian pregnancies were hard, and it was implied that death was always a possibility, perhaps even an expected one.

He wondered how much of that was Duchess Wastaken’s doing, covering up for a poison attack that- why?  Why had they hidden it?  Didn’t that mean the royal family was in danger?

They had to know better, though.  They had been doing this for so long, there had to be a reason, and Ant wasn’t entitled to it, for all that he may want to be.

Duchess Wastaken nodded, carefully watching his features.  He must be hiding his turmoil better than he expected. “Sam was her claimed brother, her only family that knew of the assault.  It made sense for him to be with her, but she- they must have known then that she wouldn't survive the pregnancy."

She said it so easily, with such a factual delivery that it struck at Ant's core, but-

But it made sense.  Papa's behavior, why he'd allowed Kristin to pull away.

After Lord Eret was crowned consort, he had become especially cool towards Sam – it was why Ant assumed the peacekeeper did not like his papa.  He wouldn't even allow Sam to spend time with the little prince, which just seemed spiteful, but-

"Eret must have found out," the duchess continued. "Sam would have kept it a secret if Kristin asked – he wouldn't have thought twice about it, but that wouldn't have been enough for Eret.  That was why they fell out, not because of the wedding." 

"But they became friends again," Ant said. "They were friendly in the end."

"Were they?" the duchess pressed, looking thoughtful. "Drake mentioned – I'm not sure if I should say, but you deserve to know."

"Really building up the suspense here," Ant said, a half-hearted effort at humor that neither of them bought into.  They couldn't, when it felt like there was so much at stake. 

"My apologies," the duchess said, the smallest smile pulling at her lips.  The situation was not one for mirth, however, which prevented her from truly embodying the projected emotion. "There was an altercation, shortly after Duke Quackity – at the time, Schlatt's steward – came to the castle.  A private gathering at Marquess Pete's.  His emergency beacon was activated, it was what drew Drake in despite the call going out to Eret in specific, but it was- Sam had instigated it.  Called Eret because he knew that Eret would not visit him, and it was there that we learned that those two- they did not possess a star crossed romance, but a genuine displeasure towards each other.  Eret's anger, it seemed, had held, and Sam had no fondness for him either."

Ant didn't know what to do with this information.  His papa was a painfully straightforward individual – he didn't have the temperament for long term theatrics.  It was why social manipulations and information collection were left to the other duchies.  What Sam lacked in finesse, he made up for in genius.  It was a fair enough trade, but he hadn't- he'd never exposed the anger he had towards Lord Eret.  And perhaps that was because he didn't want to threaten the lord consort's power, didn't want to undermine it by being overtly critical – that was the sort of noble thing Sam might do, but that he hid it to such extent-

There had been a tension under papa's skin ever since the Consort Trials had started.  It had been tinged with sadness at first, but then there was an almost manic air to it, for all that Ant had been ignoring it.  Had been distracted with his own trivial needs. 

The more he looked back on it though, the more he knew that his papa had not been acting entirely like himself.  

At some point, Marquess Manifold had started factoring into things as well.  Grandfather hadn't even argued when Sam and Ant began staying over regularly, something he never would have allowed before.  Ant had assumed it was because of all the turmoil at the castle, but the marquess of old- he wouldn't have cared about that.  He simply would have put Josh in lockdown, reserving his care for his grandson alone – damned how everyone else might do.  So why had he held out a hand to Sam?  What had compelled him to do that?

"Did they reconcile?" Ant asked, heart twinging in his chest at his insufficiencies, because he didn't know, and he should- it shouldn't be a question, and yet, here it was. 

"I thought they had," the duchess admitted. "With everything- with how short and chaotic life could be, I thought they'd reestablished their bond once more- and perhaps they had on Eret's part."

Ant tensed. "But not on papa's?  Is that what you're saying?" 

"Sam is not a great liar," the duchess countered, her tone even.  Despite being unaware that Ant was a bearer, her instincts should compel her to approach with caution when an unhappy bearer was in her vicinity, and yet she held her cool without wavering. "He circumvents this by simply not addressing the matters he would prefer not to touch on.  Changing subjects, shifting focus." 

Yes, Ant knew that.  Knew that Sam wouldn't want to lie to him, it was why he'd said things like Ant was better off not knowing, why he did things like renovate Ant's apartment while he was at work.  Sam knew his poker face was terrible, so he had to play the game a different way to compensate for his weakness. 

There were so many days when exhaustion had been clear on Sam's face, when Ant hadn't questioned him because he'd attributed it to the investigation and the war and the improbable jailbreak from the prison he'd personally designed-

Ant inhaled sharply, pulse jumping as he felt his gaze widen. 

Samuel Awe had a series of noble attributes well known by the public.  He was uncompromising, loyal, logical, intelligent, and above all else, the most noble of rule followers.  He used them as his guidelines, setting an example of perfect gentlemanly behavior, and in doing so created the most unwavering alibi for himself. 

The night Schlatt had escaped from prison, Sam had herded them all to Manifold Manor.  They'd worked until they'd fallen asleep in the lounge.  Ant and Josh had fallen asleep before Sam, but he'd been there, in the morning.  

He'd- it wasn't like- there was no way he could get to the prison unnoticed.  Get back.  And the Nether- hadn't Schlatt been discovered in the- how would Sam get there?

"Your sleeve is singed, your grace," Ant had tutted that morning, his brows pinched with a feeling of displeasure. "I told you not to travel with soldering tools.  What could you even be working on?" 

"I was fixing my beacon," Sam had replied without hesitation, removing the necklace out from under his tunic that rarely saw the light of day.

The beacon that was powered by Wastaken magic and runework – not redstone, but Ant hadn't known that then.  Didn't know until Jack had shared his own beacon with them – courtesy of Technoblade, who had requested a mixture of redstone and magic, so that if one system failed, the other wouldn't. 

Ant hadn't even looked in Sam's satchel, even if the scorch mark didn't look the same as those that resulted from their tools. Even if his father had looked so tired- almost as though he hadn't gotten any sleep-

No, no, it was impossible-

"Like most high nobles, there are a series of secret passages that lead through and out of Manifold Manor," his grandfather had told him once, giving Ant a tour of the house while he'd been working through his physical therapy. "In years past, there is a cabin on the outskirts of our territory that I permitted Sam and Lord Eret to make use of for their secret planning sessions.  When you're feeling better, I'll show it to you." 

If Sam was used to navigating the cabin with secret passages, would he know about the ones in Manifold Manor?

"Ant?" Duchess Wastaken prompted, concern clear in her tone. "Are you alright?"

"I- fine," Ant said, bracing his hands against the table so he could push himself up.  He couldn't stay here; he was too agitated.  He couldn't think straight.  He needed to talk to his grandfather. "I um- I think- I need to go-"

"Ant," the duchess interrupted, the word firm but so, so gentle, kind enough to drag Ant from his panic, however so slightly.  It was enough to make Ant look at her, and when he did, he was met with a look of such terrible kindness he wanted to scream. "What you suspect- I had my suspicions as well."

She said no more than that, simply allowing the statement to hang in the air.  He knew she could go no further than that, they both did.  If they were ever called before Grand Judge Callahan- this was the only way they could have plausible deniability. 

"Sam was a person dedicated to the pursuit of justice," the duchess continued. "But if he perceived that the law had failed this pursuit, I... I cannot say."

But she could imply.  According to her, Sam would disregard any laws if he thought it would result in the most just outcome.  Part of Ant wanted to rage that she would dare make such an accusation.  That she would taint his papa's memory in such a way.  It wasn't fair, not when Sam wasn't present to speak for himself.

And yet, he couldn't help but think she might be right.  

Because Sam had done it with Ant, hadn't he? He'd respected Ant's privacy, but did everything in his power to take care of Ant the way he needed to be taken care of.  Broke and bent rules to see that Ant's needs were met, but he was a bearer, of course-

But Duke Quackity was a bearer too.  Jack was a bearer.  Lord Wilbur was a bearer. 

Sam had never dared to force himself into their company, but he was always willing to offer his assistance. 

"I had hoped that perhaps Techno would have more information on the matter," the queen admitted. "He has picked up jobs from Sam for a long time-"

"He had?" Ant asked, but part of him already knew that.  Hadn't he guarded Josh once?  At a party?  But no, that- that wasn't- that wasn't real, Ant would have remembered meeting a giant pink-haired piglin hybrid.  He would have. 

"Protection details and information acquisition, that sort of thing," the duchess said. "I would not be aware, but piglins- we are loyal." 

Ah.  They must have shared information privately, offering what they could to protect each other's sounders. 

"If papa-" Ant swallowed hard, trying to clear his throat of the oppressive lump that seemed to claim it. "If he had done that, why- why would..."

"I suspect he needed answers," the duchess said, brows furrowed as she seemed to turn this over in her mind. "Answers that had to be pulled off the record, though I don't know what could be so important that..." She trailed off, eyes going wide a sort of realization set over her. "The night Kristin was attacked," she said suddenly. "Sam had mentioned- she'd been investigating Schlatt." 

That- what?

"She was investigating Schlatt, and she was poisoned, but that had hardly mattered since we'd found the attack site.  There were assassins- it didn't relate to Schlatt, but maybe Sam thought it did."

"Who... who found the attack site?" Ant asked. "If the emperor didn't know about it- if you couldn't use your birds, then you-"

"No," the duchess cut in, her brows furrowed in confusion.  Because she would have been the next logical choice, wouldn't she?  With her extensive information network?  All of the duchies seemed to have their own networks aside from Las Nevadas, but the Wastaken's was the most extensive.  It should have been her, but it wasn't. "Eret," she said suddenly. "It was Eret that had found them, and Kristin- when she was attacked, she went to Sam.  She went to her brother." She looked off to the side, gaze unfocused as seemed to stare off into the void. "What did she tell him in that time before he called for help?" 

"He wouldn't have hesitated," Ant burst, panic building in his throat. "He would have called for help as soon as he was able."

"I don't doubt that," the duchess said, releasing a string of soothing peacekeeper purrs.  They were marginally effective, but Ant's fight instinct had been activated, even if he didn't have a biological predilection towards such things. "Kristin was precious to Sam – he would have done whatever he needed once he saw her state.  He contacted Eret first on instinct, as Eret was his closest ally.  Sam- he was in a state of shock that night, barely processing things.  Eret was the one who thought to call us, who kept his head." 

"And then he found the assassins." 

"He did," the duchess confirmed with a nod. "At the time, there had been a mild sense of guilt to him, though I had attributed that to Kristin.  But now..."

"Now what?" Ant pressed, giving into his desire to flatten his palms against his chest, resting them just over his heart. 

"Eret has staged scenes before," the duchess said, her expression shuddered into a serious sort of neutrality, as though she were intentionally detaching all emotional responses from the situation to best analyze it. "We do it as needed to wrap up the less-savory aspects of the Advisory Council.  It is nothing Drake and by extension myself can be privy to, but I've learned of some of it through Pete." 

"You think- do you think he staged this too?" Ant asked, just not- not understanding.

The duchess was quiet for a moment before she shifted her gaze out the window.  Outside, the first hints of snow were beginning to fall, heralding the approach of winter, though they would most certainly melt as soon as they touched the ground. 

"Kristin was dear to me as well," she said suddenly. "I was her head Lady in Waiting.  A high ranking noble and decorated soldier to boost her credibility as empress.  I accepted the task as my duty, though much like she did with everyone else, I was quickly charmed.  Kristin had that air about her, she made it- things seemed easier when she was nearby.  Lighter." She shook her head. "I'm sorry.  It seems talks of the past have made me morose.  I haven't- I don't speak of her much anymore."

"You can now," Ant encouraged, knowing that he would need the same ear one day, when he spoke of Sam.  Years from now, the void would still be there, carving a giant hole from his chest, and he would need to be heard just as much then as he was now. 

"Thank you," she whispered, voice just loud enough to carry. "It's just- her loss hit all of us hard.  Much as Sam lost a sibling, I lost a sister, and I did not- none of us entirely possessed our mental faculties.  It's strange to think that it was only five years ago.  So much has happened in that time, but I... thinking back on it, it does seem strange.  How would assassins be able to corner her if she was flying?  If there had been a trap, bait, why wouldn't that be apparent at the attack site?"

"So it was staged."

"No." Duchess jerked her head to the side. "No, that- it seems unlikely, impossible, because the assassins – they had a symbol on their clothing.  A symbol that led to a dead end, it didn't help us at all, didn't come up again, until-"

"Yes?" Ant prompted when it seemed like she wasn't going to continue.

She wavered for a moment as though trapped in indecision, then nodded to herself. "Foolish's attempted kidnapper – he had that symbol on his boots."

Why, how-

"Eret wouldn't- he would have had nondescript corpses," the duchess continued. "Not something that might leave a trail. It wouldn't be him- it just- it doesn't make sense, and afterwards, even if Kristin had sworn Sam to secrecy, the fact that Eret took so long to forgive him- took years-" She shook her head again. "You have to understand, Sam and Eret – they were bonded as close as they could be without making anything official.  They loved each other, as far as we could tell, but Eret shoved away that love.  And I assumed- I thought it was so he could survive his marriage to Philza, prioritizing one friend over another, but..." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm sure this useless theorizing is doing little to help your mood."

"No, I- I want to know," Ant said, fingers digging into the fabric of his tunic. "Papa- he was working on something, something that got him and Eret killed.  They were murdered, and not- not by leftover enemy forces or whatever, but by something else." Lindsay had confirmed it during their first visit, that they'd been looking.  They hadn't found anything, sure, and maybe that meant nothing was there, and maybe Ant was just- he was forcing meaning where there was none in an effort to understand the loss, but it just felt right, especially if Sam really had kidnapped and interrogated Schlatt. 

If he'd done that, what else had he done?  What else had Ant missed?  Had his papa been fighting an entire war by himself?

"Perhaps," the duchess said, kind enough to indulge him but unwilling to push him towards conspiracy completely, trying to look after the nephew her brother had left behind. "I would like to look into things, but it seemed like most of the leads were lost with Eret." She turned her gaze back upon him, locking him in place with a firm intensity. "Regardless, nothing will change the losses we have suffered, Ant. Your father- he's gone."

"I know that," Ant snapped, bearing his teeth at her on reflex. "I know we can't bring them back.  I know that- I just- I want answers.  I want to know, and grandpa won't tell me anything!" 

The duchess straightened. "The marquess..."

"He and Sam were close," Ant sniffed, too fraught to wonder if he should reveal this or not. "I think he knows something, but he won't say." 

"That... that changes things," the duchess admitted. "The marquess is a figure that scrutinizes the government and noble powers the most, considering what happened to his family. If Sam was searching for something, I fear that the marquess would have only added fuel to the flames.  Would have..." She pressed her lips together, lingering in thought. "When Sam and Eret seemed to make up, Sam wasn't- his reaction was not as strong as I thought it might be.  Back then, I assumed it was because he did not want to be spurned once more, or perhaps he was being careful in consideration to Eret's new husbands – he didn't want to cross a line, but I- I'd though that, and mentally applauded his restraint, for it must have been difficult for him, but... but perhaps it wasn't."

"What?" Ant didn’t know where this was going, but one thing was for certain – he didn’t like it.

"If he considered Eret an enemy, it wouldn't have been hard to keep his distance at all," the duchess said. "I loathe to think it, but Sam is a creature of duty.  If he was suspicious of Eret, he wouldn't have allowed his previous fondness to hold him back."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I," the duchess admitted. "But it makes the most sense with Sam's behavior.  As far as you knew, there had never been anything more than a professional working relationship between them, after all. If he suspected Eret..."

"But why?" Ant interrupted. "Why would he?"

"Because Eret was the one who found the assassins," the duchess said. "Because Eret dissuaded Sam from looking into Jordan's death, only to research Schlatt on his own later.  Because Eret decided to marry Foolish when Wilbur had an interest in him, because Eret pressed to be Lord Consort – all of these could be explained as emotional responses compromising logic, but Sam is a creature entirely built on logic.  If he reviewed it at a distance that kept his own feelings at bay..." She trailed off, wavering. "I thought it was odd that the two of them were chosen to investigate this lead.  Why them?  I didn't make sense in a time of such instability, they were both too important, but Sam had insisted."

And Sam didn't insist on illogical choices.  

The day he'd left, he looked regretful, eyes wrought with guilt when he looked on Josh's tears, but it hadn't been enough to make him stay.  He was a slave to his duty, but-

But he wasn't an investigator.  There was no damn reason for Sam to go, other than on Eret's request, and Sam had been the one that pushed. 

"I don't understand," Ant whispered.

"It's entirely conjecture," the duchess said. "I don't know if it makes things better, but perhaps... perhaps your papa thought he was taking out a threat to the empire.  They were killed in an explosion, after all."

The words hung in the air like ugly things.

"What are you saying?" Ant pressed. "That Sam self-destructed?  He didn't seem unstable at all!"

"He could have activated that instinct somehow," the duchess said. "I can start looking into Eret and Sam's actions before their death, it's far better to assume they were attacked, that their choices were made based on emotion-"

"But that wasn't who they were," Ant said. "Either of them."

"They had a tendency to be foolish about one another," the duchess offered. "For everything else, they were rational, but when it came to each other-" She shook her head again. "We are looking for shadows where there aren't any."

"You should still look," Ant pressed. "You need- you have to look." 

They needed to know, one way or another.  They had to understand. 

Ant didn't know if he could rest if he didn't try. 

"I will," the duchess said. "But it's not a priority." 

Ant hesitated for a moment, then laughed at himself.

There was no point in hiding it anyway.

"Hello, hello, hello," he said in Bearer, bringing her to attention. He held her gaze, knowing that while this was not what he'd come for, this was what he needed. "Make it a priority." 

"...okay," she whispered, nodding once. "Okay."

Come hell or high water, he would find out what had been plaguing his papa.

Chapter Text

Ant was- had not- been doing great. 

Partially because of- of that- with the duchess.  All that and it made his head hurt almost as much as the bottle of vile liquid death in his hand made his head hurt, and it was about as hard to focus on it as it was to get his vision to accurately perceive the stone pavement before him – but it kept shifting and blurring, kept tilting even though he was sitting still – or at least, had collapsed in one place, for all that his shoulders felt compelled to sway side to side in a poor attempt at self-soothing.  He didn't deserve self-soothing; he didn't deserve much of anything.  He was supposed to get- find information on Bad, and he hadn't, he hadn't, he'd gotten distracted, he'd gotten so mad and then he'd left and then he remembered what the actual point had been and Skeppy- Ant could just see his disappointed face, but he'd muster a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes anyway, because it was natural for Ant to be distracted, that was his papa, after all, but Skeppy had been counting on him for this one thing and Ant hadn't even done it and he was awful, just- the worst. 

He wasn't sure how that had gotten him where he currently was.  Ant wasn't one who was much for alcohol mostly because of how much Sam avoided it.  His papa had encouraged Ant to build up a tolerance but he'd never touched the stuff himself, so why would Ant ever do that?  Why would Ant- that didn't make any sense.  None of it made any sense.  He didn't want to turn to alcohol to solve his problems but Lindsay still wasn't there and his papa was still dead and Ant was so upset, so he'd slipped away from his guard and into a nondescript cloak and- and gotten alcohol somehow.  He didn't know, maybe he'd used his bearer powers or something.  He might be in his old neighborhood – or rather, Bad's old neighborhood that held a collection of modest but comfortable houses intermixed with well-maintained parks.  It was an area for low nobility and rich merchants, and they likely wouldn't take kindly to a random vagrant getting blitzed in their park, but it wasn't like Ant could get drunk at home, right?  Then he'd have to explain things, or look at the growing piles of materials they'd accumulated for his party – decorations and plate settings and racks of potential coming out tunics or whatever- new piles of beauty products that had been offered as a distraction, so they could control the controllables, and Ant just- he couldn't handle that right now.  And all of his friends had their own problems – if Tina was even home, she'd probably be sleeping off her exhaustion because she'd been working herself into the ground- everyone had things to do, and Ant just wanted to have a pity party.  He just wanted to not exist for a little bit, that didn't seem like too much to ask for. 

In a distant way, he knew that he was only making things worse for himself.  He knew that this would only cause more problems, but it all- it was just so much.  How was he supposed to function under the burden of it all? How did people just- continuously make the best choices for themselves, day after day after day?  Didn't it get exhausting?

Ant took another sip from his bottle and grimaced at the burning sensation that built in his throat as he struggled to get it down. 

Ugh, whisky was the worst.  He should have snagged gin or something. He'd heard that was smooth, but beggars couldn't be choosers. 

"Hey," a voice said from somewhere off to his right.  It was gentle, but unknown.  Despite this, Ant didn't jerk, his instincts not seeming to register a threat.

That was probably just the booze talking, though. 

"Can you hear me?" the voice prompted, tentative. "Am I talking to myself?"

"P-Probably," Ant managed to get out, glaring at the stone path before him, the one that looped the circumference of this particular park. "I can't um- imagine I'm great- uh- con-conver- a great talker now." 

There was a pause, and then that unknown presence seemed to approach.  They settled down on Ant's right, leaving a few feet between them.

He shouldn't- he should- this was a stranger; he was drunk near a stranger-

But he didn't feel scared. 

"That's not a problem, kiddo," the voice said, and perhaps it was Ant's morose disposition or the alcohol that colored his perception (realistically, it was probably the alcohol), but the person sounded just a bit- fond? 

Ant took in a slow, deep inhale and mustered the monstrous effort to turn his head and get a proper look at the stranger.  His eyes were still somewhat blurred so he couldn't tell details, but they seemed to be a- a dog hybrid of some kind, with dark hair and... well, that was about all Ant could discern. 

"Just wanted to see how you were doing," the dog hybrid continued, his tail wagging behind him.  Aw, that was so cute.  The only other dog hybrid Ant knew was Punz, and his tail rarely wagged.  He was all stoic and snarky. "Though I can guess by the bottle that it's not great."

Ant scoffed on reflex, a low, bitter thing that made his head hurt, prompting him to wince. "It sucks," he said. "I suck."

"I don't think that's true," the dog hybrid kindly offered. "Just because you're going through a hard time doesn't mean you're bad." 

"I'm bad," Ant countered with a confidence he felt in his bones. "Bad. M'selfish." His head slumped down, the cat hybrid suddenly swamped with exhaustion from the effort of looking at the other hybrid. "Shoulda- Skeppy needed me, but got- papa." He felt his face crumple. "Papa n'Eret are dead." 

The dog hybrid released a low rumble in Peacekeeper that was likely supposed to be comforting but it just made Ant's eyes hot. "Aw, kiddo," the dog hybrid sighed. "I wish I could help. I wish you would remember this."

"I'member," Ant sniffed. "You're right- right here."

"Yeah," the dog hybrid sighed, seeming- seeming sad, and Ant would know, he was somewhat of a master of sorrow by this point. "And it's because Eret's not dead that you won't remember it, but I can't speak for Sammydoo."

Ant perked up, forcing himself through the swirling haze of resignation to focus. "Eret- Eret's alive?"

"Pretty sure," the dog hybrid said. "But kiddo, you gotta focus on you.  You gotta know that there's a lot of people worried about you – probably giving a fair few of them a heart attack, slipping your guard like this."

"I..." Ant wavered, chewing on his bottom lip.  Eret was alive? "M'bad."

"You're not," the dog countered with a certainty so immediate it almost took Ant aback. "And doing things like this just to enforce that perception of yourself won't make it true, it'll just give you and your family more heartache that you will work through, because you're hurting, but one day, you won't be." 

"S-" There was a name hovering at the tip of Ant's tongue, one he couldn't remember, but it felt so, so right. "Skizz?" 

There was a wet, rushed exhale. "Yeah, kiddo," the dog hybrid said. "It's me, and I missed the smaltz out of you." 

"Skizz?" Ant still didn't remember how- how the dog hybrid fit into his life, but he knew it was like a missing piece settling into place, filling part of the void in his chest. "You- you left," Ant said, blinking rapidly. "You left- everyone leaves-"

"Not everyone," Skizz said. "No, kiddo – it's not all gone.  I know it feels like it is- Prime, it hurts so much, but you can't focus on what you lost.  You have to hold onto what you still have and stop convincing yourself it's going to leave too."

"It will," Ant sniffed, rubbing at his eyes with clumsy fingers. "M'bad."

"You're Sam's kiddo," Skizz countered. "He wouldn't have claimed you if you were bad.  Neither would Josh or Marquess Manifold.  You are loved, kiddo.  So very loved." 

"Skizz," Ant croaked. "You're not- not really here."

Because he'd left, and Ant had missed him so much. 

"I'm here," Skizz said, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry – you won't remember this later, but just know that I love you so, so much.  And I- I know you won't like it, but I'm gonna signal for your guard now, okay?  You can't do this stuff, it's not safe."

"Don't- don't go-" Ant rasped, reaching out towards him. "Please-" 

"I'm sorry," Skizz said before reaching over and claiming Ant’s emergency beacon in his hand and tapping one of the buttons.  It was one of the green ones meant for- meant for who?

Ant's question was answered a short time later – he had trouble keeping track of how long.  He was alone when a large protector touched down before him – Duke Wastaken-

"There you are," the duke said, sounding relieved. "I need to escort you home." 

Ant didn't know where that was.

But the duke gathered him close and took off, leaving Ant to battle with the remnants of something that was both precious and momentous.  He just had to hold onto it.

Please, let him remember.

~:~

The aftermath of Ant's misadventure was unsurprisingly not great.  He'd known that was inevitable, and they'd known that he'd known that was inevitable, which means that they knew his choice to do it anyway was what they would call a desperate cry for help since the bottle and isolation seemed to be the only solace he could turn to, but they couldn't harshly reprimand him because aside from handing out a plethora of figurative heart attacks, the only one he'd endangered was himself.  Which still wasn't great, because bearers were important to communities, which meant he'd endangered the wellbeing of a community, and if his hangover hadn't been bad enough, the fact that they had to bring in other bearers to properly chastise him, accompanied by the wonderful presence of Ponk, certainly had been. 

At least they'd waited for the dizziness to pass.  He was clean and was now reduced to a low pounding headache and constant nausea as he settled into the darkest corner of Ponk's office.  Even with the lights dimmed and windows blocked, it still felt like too much. He was grateful that he didn't remember the flight to the castle – because apparently Duke Wastaken had carried him the entire way, and apparently Duke Wastaken could also fly, which would be fascinating if Ant had mental energy to spare for such things. 

But he didn't. It seemed his only saving grace was that he'd activated his emergency beacon on his own, even though he didn't remember doing that- but he didn't remember a lot of things on account of being very, very drunk. 

He sighed, staring up at the ceiling.  There was a mug of ginger tea cradled in his palms that was supposed to help his stomach, but right now he was enjoying the heat it provided more than anything else.  He hadn't seen his grandpa or Josh yet, but he was sure they'd be unhappy.  He was likely going to have an assistant follow him everywhere from now on, or a maid or something.  He could only hope that Duchess Wastaken might spin a favorable story to explain his behavior without going into what they'd actually talked about, which hadn't been-

Fuck, now he remembered what had pushed him to drink in the first place.  How very blarg. 

"Hi, Ant," Ponk spoke up from where he was perched atop his desk five or so feet away, his legs folded under him in a manner that was supposed to be casual, or enforce a casual air, and Ant just- didn't have time for it. "You seem to be one for efficiency, so I think it would be best if we cut straight to the point."

"By all means," Ant drawled, trying not to focus too much on Lord Consort Quackity who'd been set up with a small army of pillows in the armchair next to Ant, his husband fussing and fretting over him as they got ready for this appointment before Quackity had urged Philza away with a few fond flaps of his hand.  Wilbur, comparatively, was pacing a path back and forth by one of the closed windows because he was at a point in his pregnancy where sitting was more uncomfortable than standing. 

"Don't," Lord Quackity tutted, sending Ant an unreadable expression. "We're all here to support you.  You don't have to push us away."

And just like that, Ant deflated.  For anyone else, he might have snarked something back – it was his way, after all – his sharp wit was how he'd managed to survive so long in the world of nobility before he'd met Sam – but he couldn't lash out at an older bearer, not when he knew they were being perfectly reasonable.

It was why, he suspected, they had included Quackity and Wilbur in this conversation in the first place.

Ponk had asked, of course.  It wasn't a question that Ant needed an emergency session despite having never sat in with Ponk before (other than that one time he'd fallen into his instincts, but that had been less private, specialized care and more of a small group damage control meeting from hell).  It was going to happen one way or another, but he would be in control for how it was done.  Ponk had offered the presence of the older bearers and Ant hadn't hesitated to take the option – his instincts making the choice for him in his compromised state because he needed something and he wasn't getting it but what he needed was to not wreck Skeppy and Bad's relationship and for his papa to not be dead and no amount of sessions was going to fix that.

"Sorry," Ant murmured, staring down at his mug of tea.

It failed to immediately solve all of his problems.  What an underachiever. 

"We know you're used to hiding," Ponk said, his expression perfectly neutral, because of course it was.  He was probably a master of that by this point. "But evasion isn't going to help us get to the root of the problem." 

Neither would this, Ant wanted to snarl, except it wasn't like he was against therapy, exactly. Sam had gone to therapy, after all, and seemed much lighter after the fact.  It seemed to help him to a degree, so it wasn't like Ant objected on principle, he just- he wasn't used to sharing. 

"There's just- a lot going on," Ant settled on, shifting his gaze off to the side.  

Eret's alive. 

He winced, shaking his head to clear it, but he was no more closer to achieving it now than he had been the first time the thought had come to him.

And it's because Eret's not dead that you won't remember, the thought continued.

It was there in a permanent loop, and he didn't know why.  Eret wasn't dead, Eret wasn't dead, Eret wasn't dead, and he knew this with absolute certainty.  With the same certainty that he knew no one else would believe him if he tried to bring it up – not one of them, not even his grandpa or Josh – because they'd just assume that Ant was hysterical or something, and maybe he was, because he didn't even know why he was so sure of this.  He hated it. 

"There is," Ponk agreed in that gentle tone of his. "There have been a rapid series of relationship developments for you lately that are compounded by the politics of nobility.  I can't even begin to understand how overwhelming that might be, and that's disregarding any additional factors that might undermine your emotional foundation."

Ant quirked a brow at him, because he was pretty sure even if he wasn't hungover, that seemed like a lot of flowery, overcomplicated wording for no reason.

Ponk sighed. "While I do believe that most of the stress you are feeling is related to outside factors, I suspect there's also the very real possibility that there are some simple biological needs that we are overlooking that might also be adding to things.  I don't think addressing them will immediately fix everything for you, because this is a complicated situation, but I do think it might uplift your current mental outlook." 

"I've been eating and hydrating and getting exercise," Ant said, his brows furrowed in confusion.  "Getting fresh air, regular pup time.  What else could I be overlooking?"

"Well," Ponk cleared his throat, looking off to the side. "By chance, have you had any sort of heat since your presenting heat?" 

There was a moment where Ant just- failed to understand what Ponk was asking, and when he did understand, he couldn't comprehend why it was being asked in the first place.

And then the rage took over.

"Excuse me," Ant snarled, setting his cup angrily to the side so he wasn't at risk of breaking it. "Are you saying that I need to be fucked better?" 

"That's not what I'm saying at all," Ponk countered, immediately and with enough force that Ant was able to hold his anger at bay. "It’s natural for bearers to use suppressants to make their lives more comfortable, but any doctor will tell you that it's important to cycle off those suppressants at least once a year to reestablish your biological equilibrium.  It's just as much about reproductive health as it is about emotional stability – it is a type of connection that research has shown that bearers need."

"It's uh- true," Quackity said, hugging a pillow to his chest. "I was on suppressants for years before I got my babies.  I was so terrified of being discovered, but after I got them, I had to have nesting heats.  I didn't even realize how badly they'd been needed until I found myself purposefully forgoing my pills, and that wasn't a thing I did, but I needed to have that time." 

"I've only had the presentation heat so far, so I can't really comment on it," Wilbur said apologetically. "But if I know anything, it's that trying to deny my instincts stuff has brought me more harm than good." 

"Have you ever cycled off your suppressants?" Ponk asked. "I saw that Sam scheduled you for specific, independent projects a few times a year-"

"That was, yeah, that was so I could- yeah," Ant said, too flustered to finish his sentence. "But I never actually... did it." 

There was another moment of silence.  Ponk didn't seem pitying, which sort of made it worse.  He still looked so damn understanding. 

"Were you scared to?" Ponk asked, and Ant couldn't answer him, but his disposition must have given Ponk the information he needed. "Okay, I think that avoidance has- it may have brought you some discomfort.  Or rather, made you more susceptible to the larger, more negative emotions."

"Because I don't have a solid foundation," Ant said, wanted it to be snippy but he couldn't find the energy for it. 

"I would like to discuss this more thoroughly in a private session with you," Ponk said, because he seemed to understand that Ant didn't want to do that with the other two bearers. "But I wanted to clarify that while I do feel it's important for you to cycle off when you feel comfortable with it, that in doing so your instincts might be more settled, that it does not necessarily have to be a reproductive heat.  You could, like Quackity, have nesting heats."

"I don't have a pup," Ant said, and that- that made his- his eyes hurt. "Josh doesn't count." He was too old. "I don't- I don't-"

He was almost certain it would be a reproductive heat, and he didn't have anyone to share it with, who genuinely wanted to share it with him because sure, Skeppy would do it because he had to, would do it because he was compelled to, but not because he wanted to. 

The very thought brought tears to Ant's eyes, and he wanted to- to leave.  To go get drunk again.  To hide away for a bit and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. 

"It's okay, it's okay," Quackity soothed, reaching out for his hand. "Good-good-safe-safe-wanted."

Ant sobbed, the last word stabbing at his heart.

He wasn't good. He wasn't safe.  He wasn't wanted. 

Across the room, there was a noise of comforting sympathy, and then Wilbur was there, curling around Ant's other side. 

Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.

Rather, it was more like Ant was the water, and he was everywhere, but he was poisoned and almost guaranteed to bring death and destruction, and yet, they'd just keep drinking anyway.  Next week was his coming out party.  Next week, he would wreck Skeppy and Bad's relationship and he hadn't helped Bad and Eret wasn't dead and no one wanted to share a heat with him. 

There were noises spilling from his mouth, noises of bearer despair, and he couldn't stifle them.  He had so much practice holding them back, swallowing them down, but he didn't have the strength for it now.  It was all too much. 

"Okay, okay, it's okay, let it out," Ponk said, his words intermixed with Peacekeeper purrs. 

Lies, lies, lies, but Ant didn't have the strength to say as much.

It was awful, of course it was awful, but what right did he have to complain?  Except he did, because that was what he told the pups, didn't he?  That just because their trials might seem smaller than someone else's, it didn't mean it wasn't as valid or whatever, it was just hard to apply to him when the same expectations or rules never seemed to apply to him in any capacity, to the point where it was simply a natural facet of being and maybe- maybe Ant had liked that Sam wasn't good with emotional things for the most part, because he'd never pushed, because if he'd known he would have, but he hadn't, so-

"Oh, baby," Wilbur soothed, prompting another poorly-stifled wail from Ant.  It wasn't fair, but life wasn't fair, that was just the way things were. "Sweetheart-"

Ant turned, burying his face against Wilbur's arm as though it would help him hide.  That was what Ponk said he was used to doing, wasn't it?  But it wasn't in a bearer's inherent nature to hide.  It wasn't who they were, but most of the bearers he knew had done just that.  It was like they were just as afraid of the power they wielded as he was, he just- 

He wished Skeppy loved him.  Wished Bad loved him.  He wished his instincts would move on.  It wasn't fair of them to keep shoving him where he wasn't wanted – didn't they get that?  Why were they doing this to him? 

"Baby," Quackity cooed, sounding close to tears himself. "Dear one-"

It was a vicious cycle.  Ant had to work through the grief on his own, feeling pointedly aware of how little the others were helping.  They never left him, never shirked him, but he could tell that their ineffectiveness wore on them.  How could it not?  They were bearers, they were supposed to be great at comfort, and here Ant was, being uncomfortable.

Ungrateful.  Useless. 

Eventually, he didn't run out of grief so much as energy to exert his tears.  He slumped against Wilbur, staring listlessly into the distance, wondering if he could just pass out now.  If he did though, they'd just schedule him another appointment later, and it would be awful. If he was already feeling rotten, he may as well get this over now. It wasn't as though he was a stranger to doing things he hated. 

"Okay," Wilbur said, sounding a bit dazed as he pet a hand through Ant's hair. "That was- that was intense."

"Sorry," Ant muttered, trying to muster the energy to wipe at his eyes.  He couldn't find it.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Quackity said, his voice firm in this matter.  He reached up and- oh, he had a handkerchief to clean away Ant's tears, taking care of what the cat hybrid could not.  Perhaps he was simply controlling the controllables. "I'm glad you let it out." 

"I made you feel bad," Ant pointed out. 

"Bud, the list of people I have accidentally made feel bad is too long for me to even conceive," Wilbur chastised. "These aren't normal circumstances.  You have to show yourself some grace instead of letting the guilt pile up for every little thing to make yourself feel worse, because I know- I know if you're sad, at least you're feeling something, but it's not healthy either.  You can't just- internally sabotage yourself so you can stagnate."

Ant gave a few blinks, the words managing to make it through his usual haze of self-loathing. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

"Yeah, I didn't either, and then I had mandatory therapy after Eret died," Wilbur said, not so much as stumbling over the name of his deceased mate. "Now, talk to Auntie Wilbur and give me an idea of what's going on in that brain of yours."

Ant sniffed, considering this, and shifted his gaze towards Ponk.  The doctor was- he didn't seem to be doing great, hands pressed against his ears and hunched over as he worked through some breathing exercises. 

"Don't apologize," Quackity ordered, leveraging himself up from his chair with a grunt, one hand braced against his belly. "He knew this could potentially be an intense session and tapped out when he needed to.  I'll take care of him; you take care of you." 

"...okay," Ant said, too tired to muster any sort of argument. 

"Pup," Wilbur began, still carding careful patterns through Ant's hair, though he seemed to intentionally avoid the base of his ears. "That was some pretty intense grief.  Do you want to talk about it?" 

Ant supposed that if anyone might understand his situation, it was Wilbur.  The piglin hybrid had also lost a great deal, even if he did still have dedicated and loving husbands to attend to him, had pups, and-

Ant felt his eyes get warm again. "I don't have anyone to share a heat with," he whispered, hanging his head in despair. "I don't have pups, and Skeppy doesn't actually want to-" He cut himself off with a sharp inhale. "He doesn't want me."

Wilbur hummed, and it was a comfort that he didn't immediately insist otherwise, insist that Ant was wrong. "And Bad?"

Ant shuddered. "He-" Ant choked on a breath, because the entire reason he had- he hadn't even distressed that-

"Hey, hey, I'm here, I'm here," Wilbur soothed, releasing a low purr in Bearer. "What is it, pup?"

Should Ant tell him?  The less that knew, the better, but this was supposed to be a sacred space, and-

"You have to keep it quiet," Ant murmured. "It's important.  Please-"

"I was the emperor's assistant for years, kitten, I can keep a secret," Wilbur urged, dropping his tone to match Ant's. "What is it?"

"...we think Bad's in trouble." It felt good to share the burden, even if he shouldn't potentially be exposing Wilbur to such things. "That someone's blackmailing him, but we don't know how, and I was supposed to ask Duchess Wastaken but then I got distracted, and now-"

"Okay, hey- I can help," Wilbur cut in before Ant could get worked up again. "That is a big fear, and I will address it with the seriousness that is due, just-" A beat, and he pulled away from Ant, but only so he could activate one of the runes that dangled from his bracelet.  If the others noticed, they didn't say anything, though that was all Ant could dwell on before Wilbur wrapped an arm around him once more. "Sound muting rune," Wilbur explained with a wink. "We're good to go.  So, how did you come to this conclusion?"

"Bad wants me to um- claim Skeppy as mine," Ant explained. "But not him, because if I do it, he has a reason to break his engagement with Skeppy and keep him safe. He was- he was very insistent on the safe thing, according to safety."

Wilbur nodded. "Yes, that does sound suspicious."

"Skeppy and I are going along with his plan for now," Ant explained. "But I- I feel really bad about pulling Skeppy from his relationship." 

"Yes, that is- I can see how that would be hard on your instincts," Wilbur soothed. "But in a way, you are helping Bad, aren't you?  We don't know what's going on with him now – but we will, I can promise that.  In the meantime, though, you're helping him keep Skeppy safe.  I know it must suck having to publicly deny one of your chosen – I'm sure that's been adding to your distress as well, but you have to see beyond that." Wilbur turned, but only so he could take Ant by the shoulders. "Ant, one day you will be married to both of them – that's a guarantee.  They are your chosen.  Even if it's a platonic relationship, they are yours, and if you desire to publicly claim them, then it will be done."

Ant sniffed, and he wanted to object, but Wilbur seemed so very certain. 

"We will make it happen," Wilbur said. "I promise.  I know all about seemingly unrequited yearning but I promise, if I could get through to Phil, we can get through to Bad, you just have some political manipulations in your way, is all, and that's way easier to deal with than emotionally constipated hybrids."

The snippiness of his tone was enough to startle a small laugh out of Ant, causing Wilbur to beam down at him with a wide, triumphant smile. 

"Things aren't great now," Wilbur said. "But we will gladly fight with you to make them better.  But first, a planning meeting is in order.  You need to talk to Skeppy."

Ant shook his head. "I already talked to him.  That's why I was supposed to talk to the duchess, and then I got distracted – we started talking about Sam- and I feel so awful- I let him down-"

"Okay, okay, that's valid," Wilbur murmured. "But it's also fixable.  I'll talk to Clara myself – I can summon her for a tea party and literally no one would blink twice at it.  Just give me a list of talking points and I can handle it – so that's one problem solved, and secondly-" His expression flattened into something more seriousness. "You've had a political planning meeting with Skeppy, but you have not had a scary, scary talk-about-emotions meeting with him, I take it?"

Ant froze.  The very idea of it-

"Yeah, I know it's terrifying, but it's gotta happen," Wilbur said. "Or you're just going to keep spiraling.  And I know your brain is doing this thing like 'he'll only help because I'm a bearer and he feels obligated to', because trust me, Quackity and I have gone through the same song and dance, but I can promise you with almost unquestionable authority that this is not true.  Don't listen to that voice.  That voice is wrong.  Skeppy is your friend.  Even if he's not in love with you, he does love you, and he wouldn't ever want you to feel terrible over him.  So really, being honest with him would be substantially helpful for him too – take it from someone who has been there."

Ant considered this, now suddenly feeling bad for all the bets he'd had with Tina, the two of them having the audacity to find humor as the royal drama had unfolded, but it had been the closest either of them had gotten to seeing one of Karl's books unfolding before their eyes. 

But hadn't Josh said something similar?  Decent hybrids wanted to help bearers. Could Skeppy- could he actually want to help Ant without feeling compelled to?

"Have a session with him," Wilbur urged.  "You and him can sit on one of the pup's group therapy sessions and then duck off into the side washroom, activate the sound canceling rune, and talk it out.  It won't be glamorous, but it will be glamorously off the books and private, and I think it will have far better results than you could have ever imagined." 

"I... okay," Ant said, because he could admit at this point that he needed to try something or else he was going to be entirely unbearable. "I'd like to do that soon, and then maybe go cuddle your babies if you're okay with it."

"I'm always happy to share my babies with a bearer of your quality," Wilbur said, smiling wide as he pulled Ant into a hug. "We are here for you.  I know this is hard, but you aren't alone, okay?  You are so precious." 

"You're only saying this because you were hot for Sam's bones," Ant complained.

"I'm not, but I will admit that I was down bad for him," Wilbur hummed. "Shame that he was straight, though."

"He wasn't," Ant said, and it was kind of worth it for the way Wilbur's face went all twisted, his brow twitching. "He didn't care about sex either way, he was just really, really bad at picking up flirtation.  Like, really bad." 

Wilbur froze, his eyes wide. "Prime, damn it."

"I know," Ant bemoaned. "You could have been my mom."

"Excuse you," Wilbur huffed, nuzzling the top of his head. "I am your mom." 

And that-

Maybe that prompted Ant to break down again, but at least this time they were happy tears.

That was something.

Chapter Text

Ant was nervous, because of course he was nervous.  It was an anxiety-inducing situation, but if there was one skill that Ant had honed, it was maintaining a mask of neutrality that safely covered any internal turmoil, and he used that ability to its fullest as he herded the young princes into their weekly therapy appointment.  Lindsay still hadn't made it to the empire yet – they'd gotten held up with some things in Achieveburg, surely (surely, they couldn't be dead or executed for colluding with foreign nobility, surely not that), so Ant hadn't been able to achieve the last-minute bearer pep talk that he’d been hoping for.  Instead, he had a warm hug from Wilbur, who nuzzled Ant's hair and scented his shoulders and if his husbands found it somewhat odd, they didn't say anything about it, and that was certainly enough for Ant's instincts.

"Go get 'em, tiger," Wilbur had whispered before ruffling Ant's perfectly styled locks, and it was annoying and it was wonderful and it wasn't nearly enough to distract Ant as he very casually and normally guided the pups to Ponk's office, where they would have an emotional check in of their dynamics, where any problems could be addressed or – most likely – where they would play games and eat cookies, because Ponk loved spoiling the pups just as much as anyone else. 

In front of him, Skeppy was doing a substantially better job of playing it cool, each of his hands claimed by Fundy and Tommy in kind, the two young princes talking a mile a minute.  Of course, Skeppy kept up with them effortlessly, without strain or hesitation, sparking a warm feeling in Ant's chest.

He would be such a good father, that much was clear.  Skeppy would be a great dad if they had pups-

Prime, talk about putting the cart before the horses. 

"I'm just saying, it's weird that FJ and Finley don't come to these," Tubbo complained, tugging on Ant's hand. "What if they feel bad being left out?"

"If they felt bad, they wouldn't be left out," Ant reminded him. "And they aren't here because they have different needs that have to be catered to.  Just like you guys need a chance to deal with any of the bad feelings that came from before-" That was code for 'before the funeral', which covered the murders, kidnapping, poisoning attempts, spontaneous teleportation, war, surprise presentations, Schlatt's arrest, and the like. "-they need private workshop time.  They haven't experienced the same things you guys have so they don't need this session, but they do need quality building or painting time, and we need to give them the appropriate praise for their works when they're done." 

"Yes, I'm always happy to give them a good meal!" Tubbo declared, smiling wide. "Right, 'Boo?" 

On Ant's other side, Ranboo released an agreeable hum, though his focus seemed to be on Ant himself.  The pup didn't always make it obvious, his gaze darting between Ant, Tubbo, and those in front of them, but every once and a while, his attention would linger, his brows shifting into the slightest furrow. 

"You've been so distracted lately," Tubbo tutted, seemingly utterly unbothered by this. "It's alright though, I'll just pay enough attention for the both of us."

"Thank you, Tubbo," Ranboo murmured, earning a pleased grin from his brother.

Like this, it was clear to Ant that Tubbo would one day present as a protector, that Ranboo would probably be a peacekeeper.  Things might change – hybrids were an ever-adapting species, after all – but it was cute to see the baby dynamics in place. 

There was a cheer from in front of them, Fundy and Tommy racing forward to see who could get to the door first, and with a start, Ant realized that they had arrived at Ponk's office.  There would be no more delaying this – it was actually happening. 

"I let you get it," Fundy declared as Tommy ushered them inside, the small avian's chest puffed in a show of the utmost pride. "Because I am a generous older brother."

"Or you're just slow," Tommy cackled, sticking his tongue out at Fundy, causing the small fox hybrid to play chase him over towards the circle of floor pillows Ponk had already set up for them. 

Ant herded their charges inside and locked the door behind them, wavering a moment to collect himself.  This was it, it was happening, it-

There was an inquisitive purr from below him, and Ant looked down to find Ranboo staring at him, the ender hybrid leaning against his leg. "Are you okay?" Ranboo whispered – always the most subtle of his brothers. "Do you need Ponk time?" 

Oh.  Oh, he was so sweet.  He was- Quackity had raised him so well, and Ant spent a moment being floored by it, startled but pleased all at once.

"I'm good, buddy," Ant said, reaching down to give Ranboo's hair a ruffle. "Skeppy and I need to have a private chat while you guys have your session, though."

"A private, secret chat?" Ranboo asked, always quick to catch on.  Much like the other pups, actually, they were all amazingly intelligent. 

"Yeah," Ant said, proud of the little prince. "Could you let the others know?  We already cleared it with your Mama Wilbur." 

"Of course." Ranboo gave a serious nod.  It was so cute. "I'll let them know, we can keep it secret because of dumb politics."

"Thank you, pup," Ant hummed, just managing to restrain himself from saying 'baby' because he really did need to get better about those boundaries before he acted as their nanny in a public capacity, slipped up, and got crucified for it.  The nobles were all on edge recently – losing two dukes at once, regardless of both having heirs – was bound to lead to unrest.  It was a prime opportunity for power to shift within the empire, and Ant did not envy Josh or George for having to deal with it.  Now more than ever, they had to be careful. 

Ant guided Ranboo over towards the circle where the other pups were watching on with expressions of varying degrees of concealed interest.  Some, like Fundy, were better at hiding it than others, like Tommy, who couldn't be bothered with such efforts. 

"Alright, your highnesses," Ponk greeted as he settled down at the head of the circle. “Ant and Sir Skeppy need to have an off-the-books conversation, so they'll be stepping out into the washroom while you guys have your session.  It isn't anything bad, it's just-" 

"Politics," Tubbo chimed, looking altogether far too serious. "Silly, silly politics."

"That summarizes it nicely," Ponk said, his lips pulling into a pleased grin. "We've already gotten permission from your parents, but I wanted to first ask you guys if you're comfortable keeping this a secret.  It's perfectly okay if not, we'll figure something else out, but since this affects you, we wanted to touch base with you too."

"I'm okay with it!" Tommy volunteered immediately, waving his hand. "I like that we get to help them while we're getting help." 

The rest of the pups agreed, Fundy checking in with each of them and earning nods before he turned his attention on to Ponk. "It's good."

"Thank you," Ponk said. "Then we'll go ahead and start our usual session." He turned his attention back to Ant and Skeppy, waving them towards the bathroom. "We're here if you need us."

"Thanks," Ant said, feeling somewhat bashful.  A small tension lingered in Skeppy's shoulders – he could catch it in his peripherals.  It was the only tell that the golem hybrid felt as out of sorts about this as Ant, but Wilbur was right.  If Ant didn't want to keep having breakdowns, this was necessary. 

They surrendered to the practicality of the situation first and foremost – entering the washroom, setting up the noise-canceling rune.  They worked together in companionable silence, and then there were no more distractions. 

Shit.

Ant had thought that the words would have come to him by this point, but still, he had nothing. 

Guess he would start at the beginning.

Except Skeppy spoke up first. "What did Duchess Wastaken say?" the golem hybrid whispered, despite the fact that they'd literally employed a rune that would muffle their conversation. "Did she have any information?" 

"I- that's a good place to start," Ant decided, since he did feel especially horrible about that. "When I approached the duchess, she thought- she'd assumed I wanted to talk about my dad, so we may have gotten- we did get off topic." It still felt terrible to admit, but at least it was out there now. "But Wilbur's going to talk to her private-"

"You brought Wilbur into this?" Ant wasn't sure if Skeppy sounded more shocked or critical. "Ant-"

"I know, I know, okay?  I don't want Bad at risk any more than you do, but I needed help, and Wilbur has sworn to absolute secrecy." Ant sniffed, already feeling the potential for tears building behind his eyes. "He cares about Bad too, you know." 

"He..." It looked like Skeppy wanted to growl something, but he cut himself off with a jerk of his head, turning and walking to the far side of the room, likely to cool off. "Okay, okay- I know you- you didn't- it wasn't on purpose, and Wilbur is pretty good at keeping things secret, so..." He shook his head again. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?" 

Yes and no and Prime damnit, Ant still didn't know how to talk about this without wanting to break into hives.  Escaping the last subject so effortlessly left him suspect – there should be more fury, but perhaps Skeppy was just as tired as he was. 

"There's more," Ant said, trying to be honest. "It's embarrassing." 

"My dude," Skeppy said, and suddenly he was there, hands braced against Ant's shoulders. "We are neck deep in political mind games and noble stupidity – embarrassment would be a frankly welcome change compared to all that."

"I guess that's true," Ant said, a giggle spilling from his throat.  It sounded somewhat hysterical. "I'm sorry.  I wouldn't bother you with this if I didn't have to- but I sort of- well no, I definitely had a mental breakdown, and Wilbur insisted, and I think he's right because I am tired of having mental breakdowns."

"Preach, brother," Skeppy said, a smile pulling at his lips as he held his fist up in the air in a show of solidarity. "But more than that, how can I help? Because you are my bro in political craziness – if you're hurting, I want to help."

Ant felt his face get hot.  It had been much easier to be around Skeppy when Ant had thought that the golem hybrid didn't like it.  At least that had provided a mental barrier he could deploy against Skeppy's earnest candor. 

"I..." Ant began, his throat feeling painfully dry.  His head was spinning, flustered by that happy warmth that continued to build in his chest. "I need to- to have a heat." 

There was a moment of prolonged silence.  In that time, Skeppy expression didn't change – there was no reaction, it was as though he was frozen in time, his brows still furrowed in concentration as he gave Ant his utmost attention.

This actually might be worse than a negative response. 

"I've avoided them," Ant admitted. "For uh- you know- years."

That finally got a response from Skeppy.

"Years?!" the golem hybrid screeched, his face flushing dark as he pulled back – not from disgust, just- shock, it seemed, had claimed him. "Ant, that is- that is so not healthy!" 

"I know!" Ant burst. "I know, but I was scared, and I don't have anyone to share them with-"

"Hello?  Me?" Skeppy said, gesturing to himself. "You could share them with me?  You can- I'll always help you however I can-" Skeppy cut himself off abruptly, eyes going wide in a look of horror before a strained croaking sound spilled from his throat.  With that, he jerked away, hiding his face in his hands. "Oh Prime, I'm so sorry – that was so gross. I just-"

"Skeppy," Ant said, the tension easing from his chest in a furious rush that left him hopelessly grinning.

"Stupid knothead-"

"Skeppy."

"I can't believe I just- obviously, you knew that I- but you don't want- I'm so sorry-"

"Skeppy!" That time, he was loud enough to get the golem hybrid's attention, Skeppy jerking towards him with wide eyes.  The knight froze, startled by the grin on Ant's face, unable to know just how relieved and happy this conversation had made him. "I would love to share a heat with you.  That's- that's what I want, I just didn't think that you would want that." 

And Skeppy just sort of blinked at him. "Dude, I would have done that for you before I knew you were a bearer," Skeppy said. "Before we were friends, even, I always thought you were great." 

And Ant just-

He wasn't- 

He was unprepared-

"Umf," Skeppy grunted because Ant had thrown himself at the golem hybrid, had moved so suddenly that the protector couldn't compensate, couldn't do much other than soften their crash as they fell to the floor. 

"Skeppy," Ant whined, because what was he supposed to do when the golem hybrid was so sweet? "I was so worried. I thought you'd do it because you had to, not because you wanted to. And Bad-"

"Trust me, Bad would support this," Skeppy said, petting a hand through Ant's hair. "And maybe one day he can help with your heats too, if you want." 

Oh Prime, that-

Ant jerked himself off Skeppy with a humiliated whine, curling up on his side at how immediately his body reacted to that idea. 

"Or not!" Skeppy said, a forced cheer in his voice. "Look, it's okay-"

"It's not- Skeppy," Ant sighed, because the golem hybrid was going to make him say it. "I got wet." 

There was a beat of heavy silence.

"Oooooh," Skeppy said, drawing the word out as though it helped him process things. "Oh, that- oh, that's a fair response, 'cuz let me tell, Bad is just- he's huge."

"Skeppy!" Ant forced himself to sit up now, pressing his thighs together in an effort to help the situation down there, as though he weren't already wearing special odor suppressant small clothes – because Sam went above and beyond for him like that.

"It's true!" Skeppy insisted, sitting up with his hands held high in surrender. "I always feel so bad about it because I can't take him, but if you wanted to-"

"I.  Want. To," Ant grunted, and knew if they kept talking about this, he just might die.

"Cool, cool, that is super cool," Skeppy babbled, the flush that spilled across the bridge of his nose darkening. "That is- that is great information I will keep in my brain."

"Skeppy."

"I'm sorry," Skeppy said. "This is just- it's very surprising.  I never expected it, but I- Ant, I would be so, so glad to help you, so please don't- I mean, we have a thousand and one things to feel bad about right now, but that shouldn't be one of them."

Ant sniffed, wiping at his cheeks.  He hadn't cried and he wouldn't, but he might if Skeppy kept being this sweet.

Yes, yes, good, mine, his instincts chimed happily, uncaring if it was false or not. 

"Thanks, Skeppy," Ant whispered, feeling so much lighter. "That really- with everything else- it was just so much." 

"I'm sure it was really freaky and I'm glad I can help," Skeppy said, easing into a warm smile. "And since we've got time, do you want to- let's discuss the nitty gritty, okay?  We'll strategize, get boundaries, just- I know it'll be embarrassing, but I'll feel better if we establish that now."

"Yeah, I'd like that too," Ant admitted, feeling just- terribly fond.

At this rate, his greatest fear would be confessing his love while deep in his instincts, but at the very least he would have the support he hadn't realized he so, desperately needed.

But he did, just like Wilbur said.  Just like Josh had insisted.  Ant did, and it was scary, but it would be okay.

"You're crying," Skeppy said, sounding panicked before he fumbled for a handkerchief. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," Ant interrupted. "These are happy tears."

Of the variety he had available to him, they were undoubtedly his favorite.

~:~

The fact that Skeppy was even walking straight was to be commended, considering the- the nature of- the fact that he'd managed to keep his cool felt like a triumph among the challenges life had thrown at him recently, and his head was still spinning from the – at least in hindsight – unsurprising development. 

Ant was a bearer.  Bearers needed to occasionally go into heats.  That was basic logic.

And sure, Skeppy had just sort of assumed that Ant had another protector or peacekeeper that he went to on the downlow who already knew of his situation that helped him through things – like it was a no strings attached arrangement – and Skeppy may have spent far too much time being jealous of that non-existent, entirely hypothetical individual even if he didn't have any right to be – what was he but the closest, decent protector unrelated to Ant that the cat hybrid could cling to?  That was an honor too, but the point was, Skeppy didn't have any right for feelings to be involved, or judgement to be passed, and that was final.  Except as it so happened, there was no one who had been secretly helping Ant, because instead of stealthily dealing with his heats, And just- hadn't had one. 

And now he wanted Skeppy to help him through one.  Skeppy, helping a bearer- a bearer who was Ant- through a heat, and it was as giddying as it was terrifying and he honestly genuinely didn't know how he could have gotten through the conversation of boundaries without collapsing into a pile of helpless mush, because Ant had spent the entire thing being adorable as all get out, his cheeks tinged in a permanent flush, hands perpetually hovering just under his chin in case he needed to hide his face in them again.  It needed to be done, and that was how Skeppy had gotten through it, but now it was over which meant he could think about it and holy shit, he was going to help Ant through his heat. 

Skeppy wanted to scream.  Whether it was from terror or jubilation, he didn't know. 

This wasn't- he never thought this would be a thing for him.  Why would it?  He was a commoner, sidling up to a baron was the best he could hope for, not that he'd ever really cared about Bad's title.  Skeppy had been happy with his small corner of the world, and now- it was an honor to be chosen by a bearer, but part of Skeppy still ached that Bad didn't get to be involved, especially when um- when Ant had reacted so-

That had been a bit of a heart attack, Skeppy panicking because he thought Ant's startled reaction was an objection to Skeppy himself, when really he'd just been super embarrassed because he'd gotten aroused by the thought of having sex with Bad. 

And Skeppy- despite all the bad stuff, despite the blackmail Bad had to be under (because nothing else made sense, otherwise the Nether Demon was just panicking and maybe he had a trauma disorder or something and maybe they were just chasing after nothing and maybe he should just talk to Ponk but he didn't know if he could get Bad to talk to Ponk so what would even be the point?) - despite all that, he was so- so proud that his partner could garner that sort of response from a bearer.  From Ant. That was- of course he could, because he was Bad and Bad was amazing and Bad- 

Was scared, and they didn't have any leads yet.

Ant had looked so down, so broken because he hadn't- because he'd been distracted, but could Skeppy really blame him?  Ant had lost one of the most important protector figures in his life, his father- it was no wonder that one mention of the creeper hybrid would set him astray.  It hadn't been on purpose and he'd found a way to fix it, and Skeppy just- he wanted to hold Ant, wanted to hug him close as though Skeppy were his real protector, as though he'd been really desired rather than a convenient choice.  He could admit that a small, probably sexist part of him found that Ant's lack of heats just- made sense.  Maybe that affected Ant's judgement too, his instinctive impulses – if he regularly had them, his opinion might change-

But wasn't that just the most patronizing knothead train of thought that there ever could be? That wasn't fair to Ant, and it wasn't like Skeppy himself hadn't struggled.  That was just life for a commoner living in the capital, frequently interacting with nobles.  That was life for a scholarship student who had been taught the wrong form of etiquette – none of them came out unscathed. They had to fight ten times harder to get something even close to normal for a noble, and most of the time, they still didn't feel secure.  And Ant, it wasn't like he didn't have a reason to- until recently he'd thought-

Well, Skeppy would just make sure he had the best heat ever, was all.  Whatever he wanted, all the best pampering and rest in their downtime – Ant would get it.  Scheduling it was tricky, though.  Ant's coming out party was just on the horizon.  If he tried to cycle off his suppressants beforehand, there was no telling how long it would take them to get out of his system, and then no telling how long the resulting heat would last since it had been so long since he'd presented.  It could be an intense, lengthy process, and they didn't need the stress of such an important party hanging over them as a deadline.  Right now, they had it scheduled for after the party – which was both good and bad.  If things went awry, they wouldn't be there to deal with the aftermath, but there was also the fact that everyone would know without a doubt what was happening. 

And that was just kind of embarrassing.  No one would think less of them for having a heat so soon after their announced engagement – if anything, they would be applauded for their restraint, but the fact that the entire empire would know what they were doing was a level of pressure Skeppy didn't know how to contend with.  He was sure that in the heat of the moment, he'd be able to overcome his anxieties, but the concern would remain until that point. 

So just yeah, okay, new things to worry about.  Not like he didn't have enough on his plate with the upcoming private judicial session against his old Essempi sponsor.  It wasn't as though he didn't have other things going on – but as stressed as he was by that too, he knew that once they came out the other side of these things, he would feel a lot better.  It was worth it to get to that point, he just needed-

"Skeppy." 

The golem hybrid would know that annoyed voice anywhere, and even if he didn't, the familiar heat combined with their years of practiced ambush tactics would be enough for Skeppy to know that an ally was nearby.  As such, he surrendered to Sapnap's care with the utmost grace, allowing the slight blaze hybrid to drag him into the private suite he used with Karl. 

Awwww, it was just like old times.  Used to be that Skeppy spent every hour of the day with Sapnap.  Skeppy could admit that he missed his old partner in sparring and knighthood guarding, even if the other protector seemed to be nothing but an encapsulation of pure annoyance at the moment.

Which was unfortunate, because Sapnap was cute when he was angry.  His cheeks got all puffed and his face got all pouty and it was a fight to not just hug him senseless, because that would make him even more mad, which made him even more cute.

It was a vicious cycle.

"Skeppy," Sapnap repeated in a low hiss as though reading his mind. "Stop wearing that expression."

Ah, he hadn't developed miraculous telepathy so much as been able to see Skeppy's face which sported a smile that stretched so wide it hurt his cheeks, but what could he say, he'd missed Sapnap. 

"Sorry," Skeppy said, failing to reel in his happiness. "You're just-"

"Don't say so cute," Sapnap huffed, folding his arms across his chest and really doing himself no favors in regards in the whole being adorable department. 

"I was going to say 'a sight for sore eyes'," Skeppy teased, watching for the flush on Sapnap's cheeks darken with a proud sort of relish. "We haven't had a lot of one-on-one time, buddy."

He watched as Sapnap held himself back from snapping over the nickname, his bright gaze going all scrunched. "And who's fault is that?"

...oh.

Oh, this was way less fun now.  Sapnap was right, Skeppy had-

"Wait," Sapnap continued, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, that's not fair.  We've both been running around like crazy – it's not like I've scheduled time with you either.  That was a dickish thing to say." 

"Dickish," Skeppy echoed in an effort to buy himself time. "You're good.  You were worked up, but I'm sorry I haven't reached out to you either."

Sapnap waved him off with a roll of his eyes, a move he had entirely copied from George. "We're fine, we're solid, we're the best protector bros out there, but me missing you isn't why I called this meeting." 

"It's not?" Skeppy asked, not entirely sure what other topics they could cover.

"He-llo?" Sapnap drawled, waving a hand in front of Skeppy's face as though he hadn't been paying attention. "I have seen barely hide nor hair of you with Bad in like, weeks.  Pretty much since the fitting, and you guys were all weird then and I figured- you know, I'd give you some space, this is a strange time for all of us, but it's still happening and you think I wouldn't want to talk about it?"

"Oh." Part of Skeppy – a part he now knew was naive – had sort of hoped that maybe Sapnap would be so consumed with his new healthy and supportive romance (and overall wonder that was Karl – blessed Karl, the breath of fresh, awesome air that the castle desperately needed) that he might have just sort of missed what was happening – or rather, not happening – between Bad and Skeppy.

But of course he hadn't – outside of Karl, Bad and Skeppy were two of Sapnap's most important people.  Considering the fact that the other important person was George who wouldn't even stay in the same room with Sapnap if he didn't have to (honestly, Skeppy should just break into where the cat hybrid was staying and noogie him into submission, would have done it if he didn't fear it reminding George of his old, awful brothers), it was perfectly reasonable for Sapnap to be aware of what was or was not happening in their lives. 

And Skeppy- he'd been staying in Connor's suite or the Blade Manor that Techno had been forced to acquire to solidify his relatively unknown noble house among the capital's nobility.  It was a home that had been previously used by one of the nobles that had been arrested with the fall of Schlatt, and he had found great satisfaction in redoing the entire thing to make it both more and less tacky.  His papa had been letting Foolish have run of the place, likely in a bid to distract the totem hybrid, and it seemed to be working.  At the very least, Skeppy loved his room.  

It was- there was just so much diamond.  He didn't even strictly need- but golem hybrids did thrive when surrounded by their core stone, and neither Techno or Foolish had skimped on Skeppy's most sacred place.  The bedframe was one seamless piece of diamond – thousands of gems coaxed together by Foolish's magic.  Skeppy had cried the first time he'd seen it, then promptly passed out in it for like, six hours, because apparently his gem core had needed it.  With this, he might actually be able to cultivate golem magic, might be able to shift, something he hadn't even bothered considering before. 

But doing that kept him away from Bad and the castle, and Sapnap had finally noticed that. 

"Oh?" Sapnap echoed, giving him a look of the utmost incredulity. "I point out that you've been avoiding my brother, and all you have to say is 'oh'?"

"Sapnap," Skeppy began, wondering how he could even start this conversation and not being afforded much of an opportunity to dwell on this when Sapnap got riled up again. 

"No," Sapnap cut in, his eyes narrowed in judgement. "Don't patronize me.  Something's been going on and you haven't told me because of Karl."

"Among other things," Skeppy allowed.  Really, he just- it had slipped his mind that he needed to talk to Sapnap – part of him had thought that Bad would do it himself, but he clearly hadn't. 

"Please don't say something awful like 'We didn't want to bother you'," Sapnap said. "I know things are shit right now, I know it's hard for everyone – I get that, but just because I have a good thing with Karl doesn't mean I don't want to know when you guys are struggling."

"I just didn't know how to talk about it," Skeppy admitted, exhaling hard through his nose.  He didn't have permission to spread news of Ant's second sex – it would be publicized at his coming out party but Skeppy couldn't speak of it until then, which made things difficult. "Do you trust me?"

Sapnap flinched back, trying to hide a wounded expression that struck right at Skeppy's core. "Of course I do."

'Did you doubt that?' he did not say.

Skeppy heard it just the same.

"I need you to hold onto that," Skeppy said. "I need you to remember that, because right now, I- I'm holding onto how much I trust Bad too, okay?  Even if I don't understand what's going on, I'm holding onto it, and I can't allow that to be shaken."

"Holy fuck, Skeppy," Sapnap said, his words a bare murmur. "What's going on?"

"I don't entirely know, to be honest," Skeppy said, which he knew would be the most frustrating answer of all. "I'm just trusting Bad, and you need to too.  We have to be cool about this."

"About what?  Wait, you don't know," Sapnap said, shaking his head as though to clear it.  It allowed him to readjust his query. "What did Bad ask you to do?" 

Skeppy held his hands up in a pacifying gesture that he knew full well would only make Sapnap more worked up but Skeppy couldn't not do it when it might help his little brother. "He wants us to break off our engagement." 

"What?!" Sapnap's response was immediate, and about as worked up as Skeppy had expected. "He wants you to-"

"He begged, Sappy," the golem hybrid said, using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart. "He begged me to trust him – how could I say no?  I hate it- he hates it- but he asked."

"He's just being self-sacrificing, you twit!" Sapnap snarled, flames dancing in his hair. "You have to know that! There is no reason-"

"But what if there is?" Skeppy pressed, halting Sapnap in his tracks. "What if there is and we ignored it?  Could you live with that, when he begged?"

That, at least, was enough to make Sapnap fall silent, the blaze hybrid contemplating Skeppy's words.  His shoulders slumped, and he looked off to the side, the fight seeming to be suddenly drained from him. 

"Prime damnit, Bad," Sapnap whispered, looking off to the side. "I hate this."

"Me too." It should be apparent, but it made Skeppy feel better to say it, even if it didn't change anything. 

"He's all alone now," Sapnap said and there was- oh no, his eyes were all watery, which meant that steamy tears were soon to follow. 

Skeppy gave into his desire to wrap around the young prince, hugging him close the way he would have back before Quackity had come to the castle. "He's not," Skeppy said, because if he believed otherwise, he would break down and never be able to recover. "He still has you, right? I'm sorry to place this burden on you, Sap, but you and Karl- you've got to look after him.  At least as much as he'll allow." 

It wouldn't be much.  Bad could get stubborn at the worst times, but still, Sapnap should be safe. 

"I'm so mad at him," Sapnap sniffed, glaring at the floor. "He always does this."

He had, for as long as Skeppy had known him.  It was simply a facet of who Bad was.  He'd gotten used to solving his problems on his own.  Sapnap hadn't even been of majority when they'd left the Nether – Bad had always looked after him as a pup.  It wouldn't occur to him that his brother might want to help out with his problems too. That he was a capable resource. 

"I know," Skeppy said, hugging him close. "But we're not giving up on him, okay?  No matter what happens, please never doubt that.  I will always love Bad, just like I'll always love you."

"Mushy jerk," Sapnap complained, but he still leaned into the golem hybrid, eagerly soaking up his affection. "...we're not going to be able to see much of each other after this, are we?" 

"Probably not," Skeppy confirmed.  They might hate it, but it needed to be said. "Sorry." 

"We'll make it better," Sapnap pledged. "Whatever it is."

They could only hope that their peacekeeper wouldn't stray beyond their reach.  They could only hope that Bad let them do their job.  They would get there, they had to believe that, because if they didn't-

There was no other option.

~:~

"This should be the last of it," Wilbur said, humming as he looked over the paperwork. "And you're-"

Bad forced himself into a coughing fit, just as he had any other time Wilbur had attempting to confirm if he was okay with this, because if the piglin hybrid actually managed to say the words aloud, he wouldn't be able to continue as he had been- the rules of the game would change, and Bad lived in the realm of plausible deniability.  He couldn't be offered that life raft; the possibility couldn't even exist in his mind.  It was the only way he could ever be safe- that they could be safe- which meant that he would be as rude as necessary to an older bearer and senior member of his pack as he had to.  How he felt about it didn't even factor into things- that couldn't matter less.

"Here," Wilbur said, pressing a cool glass of water into Bad's hands.  Any space that the royal bearers occupied for extended periods of time was equipped with all the necessities and an additional fair range of luxuries, which meant that Wilbur would never be wanting for any sort of food or beverage.  They were always neatly on hand, and Bad had made use of his fruit-infused water more than once.

Mostly, it had been for this charade, but Bad could admit that it was nice partaking in the elevated beverages that were prepared with the utmost care for their pack's bearers.  The privilege – however weak it may be – was one of the few harmless highlights he could hold onto.  It may be a mockery compared to his past happiness, but Bad could not dwell on his feelings.  He could feel things when he'd gotten himself out of this mess, and as the solution to that might be a bit more extreme than he would like-

He was taking it one day at a time, even if he needed to think further forward.  He was doing everything that he could, but it was a delicate balancing act.  If he didn't do it right, if he went too far, fate would force him into a place he didn't want to be.  It had already done it once before, he knew it was important to control what he could. 

"Are you okay?" Wilbur asked, a steady hand braced against Bad's back.

It was not care Bad felt he currently deserved, but he soaked it up greedily regardless, intimately aware of the confusion that must be brewing in Wilbur's mind. Bad was not acting at all like his practical, positive self.  He hadn't known- couldn't have- he'd thought that he was done and then suddenly he wasn't- of course he'd lost his carefree nature, but it wasn't as though he could explain that to Wilbur.  Bad should have known, he should have, the way things were lining up with him being crown prince instead of Sapnap – Sapnap, who'd actually been chosen by Quackity and Phil.  Bad had just- he'd been related to the pup they loved and just happened to be older- it seemed so arbitrary at the time, but Bad hadn't been scared since he'd had Skeppy by his side.

Now he knew better.  He should have been scared.  He should have been terrified.

"Just a tickle in my throat," Bad said, mustering a small look of gratitude towards the bearer before he carefully straightened. "So this is it, right? We just file this with Callahan and-"

"Engagement dissolved," Wilbur said, holding his gaze carefully.  Forever assessing.

If there was anyone who might be able to figure out what was going on, it might be Wilbur.  As a Nether refugee himself- a survivor of one of the protected cities- he had an understanding of what Bad himself had gone through to get to the Overworld.  It was somewhat ironic- their bastions had been right next to each other- if Bad had just braved the wastes in search of an ally, maybe they could have- but he couldn't have known that the other bastion on the horizon wasn't abandoned nor that it may have held a willing ally, he couldn't have known that it wasn't anything like his own abandoned city- he couldn't have known that, and Wilbur might not have the full background knowledge to figure things out without knowing Bad's hometown, but he had the greatest potential for it.  He was at least familiar with Nether culture.  Techno likely was too, but Techno was busy keeping everyone together – keeping Foolish from working himself into the ground and keeping Philza stabilized and two bearers happy and all their pups from going insane- Techno was busy with all that and his duties, and while Wilbur was also doing double time keeping his pack together, his regular duties had been lessened so he could focus on his pregnancy, so maybe he would-

But the truth was, Bad didn't want him to get involved. 

"As per Ant's request," Bad said cheerfully, laying the necessary groundwork and wishing it would be easier, that it wouldn't make Wilbur furrow his brows in such a fierce look of assessment. 

"Yes," Wilbur said, voice neutral because he'd played this game for a long time – he understood the value of improvisation, knew intimately how to cue off someone else even if he didn't entirely comprehend the bigger picture. "Clara and Drake are planting the seeds for it now.  No one would argue that this was a secret affair of some kind finally coming to light.  It was clear that Ant and Skeppy didn't get on close terms with each other until recently, and anytime they've interacted, they've had chaperones."

It was because of a need for chaperones that this entire chain of events had been set off.  In truth, Skeppy and Ant hadn't- back then- explicitly needed chaperones as two male hybrids who were incapable of procreating, it had simply been Wilbur's anxiety and sensitivity that likely had the piglin hybrid pushing the subject and Bad was glad now – endlessly glad – that he had done so.  It was more of a relief than a heartbreak, to be honest, even if Bad had to cling to the former in order to hide the latter. 

"They fell in love," Bad said, a sad but fond smile pulling at his lips. "And who am I to deny a bearer?"

It was a good story.  Most wouldn't understand why a bearer might conceal themselves in high society for so long, but they had decided to mostly stick to the truth, disregarding the fear and- and stupid- the stupid- Bad couldn't even let himself think about it, about that garbage that had been placed into Ant's head, it wasn't right- it made him burn- but he couldn't- he just- he could. Not.  Because if he started, he'd never be able to stop, never be able to force the distance he needed between them, that Ant needed between them to stay safe.  This was about more than Bad. 

"That's right," Wilbur said carefully, even if it was clear he didn't exactly agree.  He was still assessing, and he'd likely never stop, not until he got to the bottom of things. "You realize, though, when this happens, to have our future emperor disregarded by a bearer..."

"I know," Bad said, grateful that the piglin hybrid hadn't finished the statement. It would look bad, would start off ripples of questions from opportunists – if Bad was excluded like this from his own established partnership, if a bearer did not want him, what did that say about his character?  If it was of poor quality, should he even have his position at all?

He shouldn't and Bad didn't want it, but he couldn't say that.  

Wilbur's frows furrowed deeper, and in a fit of desperate Bad shifted his hand, angling his fingers in an old nether language that he had taught himself from the books left behind by his family, the one so outdated that it was unlikely others knew it. 

'Help', he sighed, his sleeve angled so that Wilbur's assistant and maids would not see it. 

Wilbur's gaze never left Bad's face, but he hid his own hand behind the porcelain pitcher, the one etched with gold swirls as all his things were, all so carefully catered to his piglin heritage. 

'Affirmative,' Wilbur signed.

"Well," the bearer sniffed, easing into a look of subtle derision that confused Bad for only a moment before he realized-

Improv.  Wilbur was playing off of-

"Then I think we're done here," Wilbur continued, his tone dismissive. "See yourself out, would you?"

"Of course, your majesty," Bad said, easing into a bow and pretending to ignore the looks Wilbur's servants shot each other. 

It was a start, at least.  That Wilbur understood- and maybe it wouldn't be enough, but it was something.

That was enough for him. 

Chapter Text

"How are you feeling?" 

"Like I'm going to throw up," Ant replied honestly, making no move to even think about adjusting any of his outfit because the maids had already intercepted his wandering fingers with gentle bats a handful of times, and he had no doubt that they would continue to do so until he stopped fidgeting. "This is terrible. I think I hate it." 

From her spot lounging languidly across the chaise in Ant's dressing room, Tina sighed, as though she were the one that had to deal with this nightmare.  No, she had been permitted a small social debut courtesy of her grandfather before he'd passed.  It wasn't anything like Ant's grand introduction into the world. "Not to dismiss your feelings, but you need to counter this anxiety with logic, my man.  The emperor and Marquess Blade and your grandfather will be there to give everyone the stink eye as needed, and Duke and Duchess Wastaken will even be present to manage the worst of the social fallout.  You are prepared as you can possibly be, and Skeppy understands."

Ant lurched – caught off guard by the last comment that Tina had offered with such a dry, blunt delivery – but he was intercepted by a maid before he could properly charge towards her – to do what, he did not know.  He suspected he would just hover near her uselessly, which he could do just as easily from this side of the room.  He could only be grateful that the stylist and maids were both trusted, long-term staff of Marquess Manifold that were laden with many confidentiality agreements, and as such, none of Ant's concerns would spill from the space as they continued to fret and over his outfit and re-smooth his hair, another tasked with righting his jewelry, as though any of it had moved at all. 

Tina leveraged a knowing and unimpressed look at him that was likely brought forth more easily due to her exhaustion and extreme sleep deprivation.  The maids had done an admirable job covering the dark circles under her eyes with makeup, but there were some things tinted powder just couldn't hide. "That's what you're worrying about," she surmised, cutting straight to the point. "You're worried about ruining Skeppy's life or something because of the old bullshit your sponsor told you, and I will not stand for it." 

Ant did not flinch, but that was only from years of practice. "That's not how trauma works."                                                                                         

"Your trauma's stupid," Tina complained, and it was such a nonsensical and absurd comment that Ant couldn't help but crack a smile.

This seemed to be Tina's goal as she viewed his expression with an open grin of delight, seeming entirely pleased with herself. 

"Okay," Ant admitted, figuring he owed her that much. "I'm catastrophizing, because- because if I fear for the worst, when it happens, it won't hurt as much." 

"Alternatively," Tina began. "The night could go perfectly, could go off without a hitch, and you could spend it wrought with so much anxiety that you don't get to enjoy it.  Ant-" Tina sat up properly, gracefully easing out of her exhausted sprawl. "This is your coming out party.  Your engagement party.  I know it's stressful because this is the end of whatever amount of anonymity Sam acquired for you- because this will lead to a new chapter in your life- but you have to remember, you're a bearer.  If someone pisses you off, just hiss at them.  They'll be socially ostracized and you get to eat cake.  Bam." She clapped her hands together for emphasis. "I have solved all your problems.  What a kind soul I am.  Now, would you please let your brother in here?  I bet anything he's standing in the hall just outside the door, worrying himself sick because you're trying to be noble and not bother him or whatever, and you two could just like- bask in anxiety together." She pointed a fierce finger at him, narrowing her eyes. "You're not the only one concerned with how this thing might go." 

Ant opened his mouth.  Closed it.  Felt his ears press flat back. "My baby," he whispered, suddenly realizing- and he had maybe sort of known, but he'd been so stressed-

"Don't get in his way," Tina advised, and it took Ant a moment to realize that she was actually talking to the servants and not Ant, because if she had been talking to Ant he would have ignored her because he actually needed to run to the other side of the room right now. 

"Baby!" Ant called as he charged across the room, despite knowing that the space had noise canceling runes – because he was a bearer and bearers deserved the most privacy or whatever.  He threw open the door and there, just like Tina suspected, was Josh waiting just outside. "Baby!' Ant called again, tugging his little brother properly into the room and then, with that accomplished, tugging Josh further into his arms and wrapping him in a proper hug. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry, I forgot you might be stressed too."

"You really don't have anything to apologize for," Josh said, seeming somewhat dazed as Ant released a string of bearer purrs. "I just- I couldn't not be here. Sorry."

"No, I'm-"                            

"You can both be sorry," Tina interrupted with an annoyed huff. "Now Ant, let them fix your outfit.  You can fret over Josh afterwards; he'll stay in your line of sight the entire time."

"I'm not a child," Ant groused as he pulled Josh over towards the changing area with all the mirrors and vanity and little pedestal. 

"I think that's debatable," Tina groused. "Do you feel better?"

"So much better," Ant admitted in a gusty rush before shooting her a glare. "Don't be too smug." 

"Excuse you, I will be as smug as I feel like," Tina hummed before motioning for Josh to sit beside her and turning towards the tea service to fix Ant's baby his own cup.  Okay, Ant supposed she wasn't the worst moral support. "I know things are probably even more crazy in your brain than usual, so I will happily be the grounding voice of reason." 

Ant shuddered. "That it’s come to this-"

"Don't get snippy with me, sir," Tina ordered. "I am the bee's knees."

"Thank you for getting him to open the door," Josh said before Ant could say anything snarky back, all heartfelt and earnest.

It made another layer of Ant's anxiety melt away, and he knew later that Tina would be insufferable, but for now, Ant was simply too grateful for the peace his baby brought into the room. 

Tonight was Ant's coming out party.  After this, there would be no coming back.  He'd gotten some updates from Wilbur – Duchess Wastaken was on the case, though as of yet she had found minimal answers to their questions. They were all keeping an eye on Bad, and Ant felt terrible.  Sure, Skeppy marrying Ant would save their reputations, but Bad had also been alone with the bearer, and having him publicly ignored like this- Ant knew it was what Bad wanted, and that he'd have to throw his all into it in order to sell it to the public, but it still felt all but impossible. 

But it was what Bad needed him to do, and Ant loved him, so it was what would happen.  He'd just have to fight through it, and then um- have a heat with Skeppy-

One thing at a time.

"We're going to be okay," Ant said as he submitted himself to the maids' administrations. "Everything is going to be kind." 

"Positive manifestation," Josh agreed with a far too serious nod, and at once Ant was struck with the thought of how much Sam would have loved this, would have loved Josh, who was so serious but still somehow positive after everything he'd gone through.  Whether he saw it or not, it was all thanks to the creeper hybrid that Josh was the lovely younger brother that he was, and Ant just-

He missed his papa.  He was glad is mama was here downstair, he was glad his grandfather and brother were present, that his sort-of-mate- and that would be another session with Ponk, Ant knew it, knew he was living on borrowed time and it would be mortifying when they worked through just how much Ant really liked Skeppy, as though the golem hybrid wouldn't know after they shared a heat together- and maybe Ant was nervous about that too-

"Positive manifestation," Ant echoed, deciding to follow his baby's lead.  Sam would want him to enjoy this, so Ant was going to do just that.  His only regret was that he couldn't do it in Awe colors, but Manifold would do just fine.  He was more than lucky to have it, and that was not a fact he was going to let go of anytime soon. "It'll be great.  I practiced all the dancing, it's all food that I like-"

Further conversation was interrupted by the near silent unlatching of the room's secret passage, and they all turned in time to see the carved wood wall to slide aside to reveal-

"Lindsay!" Ant cheered, bypassing the servants so he could cut a path directly to the avian's side. "You're here!" 

"Arrived just in the nick of time," Lindsay said, shooting him a wink that didn't quite cover the exhaustion in their features.  It was clear from their disheveled appearance that they had rushed here, the soot of the Nether still clinging to their clothes and skin. "Sorry I'm late, kitty cat – had to do a fair set of set up and public appearances before I could slip away unnoticed." They didn't tug him in for a hug, likely due to the grime that dusted their clothing, but they did give his shoulders a few careful pats with the very tips of their fingers before nodding their head towards the servants. "Lord Josh, Lady Tina, and good work getting him to look so spiffy Babs, Mariel." 

"Greetings, Marchioness Jones," Ant's maids echoed, each adopting a kind grin as they eased into their curtseys.

"Marchioness Jones?" Tina echoed. "I haven't heard of you."

"They're Sam's cousin-in-law," Josh explained. "They currently live in Achieveburg."

"But we try to keep in touch!" Lindsay cheered before turning their full attention to Ant. "I am so, so sorry for my delay.  It sounded like you really needed me, but I couldn't get away-"

"It's alright," Ant interrupted. "I uh- I got some support here.  Senior bearer love, therapy, cuddle time with the fam-" Started investigating possible conspiracies related to their cousin. "It's been okay, but I'm still glad to see you."

"Okay," Lindsay said, shooting him a soft smile. "I'll be happy to talk to you later, though. Can't really make a public appearance yet, not until Gavin's officially takes over, but I am here for you and you look so good!" They stepped back, beckoning him to do a little spin and Ant obliged, showing off all angles of his outfit. Marquess Manifold and Duchess Clara had commissioned it together, and were Ant feeling more whimsical, he would say that he maybe felt like a prince with all the tasteful embroidery and subtle but prominent gems. "Aw baby, you're stunning," Lindsay continued to gush, star seeming to shine in their eyes. "How do you feel?" 

"Nervous," Ant replied honestly. "Doing better with friends and family around-" he added, shooting a knowing look to Tina who met him with a simple thumbs up. "But I've still got some jitters."

"That's normal," Lindsay said. "Trust me.  Even when going into events after everything's been perfectly okay and you know every detail and everyone present is someone you like – even then, it's normal to get nervous, so be kind to yourself, okay?  We're all here for you."

"Thanks," Ant said, the tension slowly easing from his shoulders.

"I literally already told you that," Tina huffed.

"It's different when they say it though," Ant countered, puffing out his cheeks. 

"Yeah, because I'm super cool!" Lindsay said, shooting him another wink.  They opened their mouth as though they were preparing to say something else, but then there was a knock on the door, something that made them pause. "Alright, I'm gonna go hide out now," Lindsay said, retreating back towards the secret passage. "The less people that know I'm here, the better, but I'll see you later!" 

"Thanks!" Ant said, really meaning it, because- because even if Sam wasn't here, parts of him were, and that was enough.  

Lindsay left just as one of the maids opened the doors up for their visitor, and it was- it wasn't even a surprise, not really.

Skeppy was Ant's partner for the evening, after all.

They had planned it to be Josh, but with Ant needing to go into a heat so soon after the party, it had made sense to reassign the position.  The fact that Skeppy would be his fiancé from this night forward was something that made Ant's pulse jump and his heart all fluttery so he would just try not to dwell on it too much. 

"Hey," Skeppy greeted awkwardly, looking unfairly attractive in his formal dress tunic.  He was sporting the colors of House Blade, as his engagement (and therefore, his connection) to House Halo had been recently dissolved.  He just- he looked so good, all dashing and hair coiffed the way it normally never was, that Ant had to force himself not to dwell on the image for too terribly long, especially since Skeppy had come with terribly perceptive company.

"How's everyone doing?" Wilbur asked as he followed behind Skeppy, nudging the protector forward with a few prods.  Ah, it seemed that Ant wasn't the only one who was nervous.   

 "We're doing okay, all things considered," Ant decided as Skeppy crossed to him, the protector fidgeting all the while.  He lingered beside Ant, close, but distant enough to be respectable, and just sort of hovered uneasily.

Wilbur allowed him a few moments of this before he cleared his throat. "You're going to work everyone up, Skeppy."

"Sorry!" Skeppy jolted, eyes going wide before his hand flew to one of his pockets. "I mean- I was just-" He shook his head as though trying to clear out all the muddle. "I have a ring," he said finally, removing a jewelry box from the confines of his clothing. "Papa and I made it together."

It took Ant a few moments to realize why, exactly, Skeppy seemed stressed, but- he was worried, Ant realized, because he was afraid Ant wouldn't like it.  He was worried about how the bearer would recieve the gift.

Throat thick with emotion, Ant accepted the jewelry box, opening it to reveal-

"Oh, Skeppy," Ant breathed, heat building in his eyes. "It's lovely."

It was a subtle thing, in the end.  The band was not thick, but comprised of dozens of small, golden tendrils that almost seemed to be vines that twisted around each other in an artistic pattern.  Among the vines, diamonds – Skeppy's diamonds – were scattered, giving it an elegant but organic feeling.

It was something glamours – worthy of a bearer from the Manifolds - without being overdone. It was something perfectly tailored to Ant's wishes. 

"Skeppy," Ant murmured, hands shaking. "Could you-"

"Yeah, I-" Skeppy fumbled for the box, but his hands were steady as he eased the band onto Ant's ring finger, slotting it into place as though it had always belonged there.

A perfect fit. 

Prime, it was like they were actually- and of course they were, because they had to, but-

"I'm glad you like it," Skeppy said, voice tight, and when Ant looked at him it was to find that the golem hybrid also seemed close to tears, but much like Ant they were overwhelmed, happy things. 

"I love it," Ant said, swallowing the 'I love you', that wanted to follow. "I um..."

"Why don't I help you with your makeup?" Wilbur spoke up suddenly, approaching with a slow but graceful gait.  His pregnancy was thoroughly pronounced now, and as such it was a wonder either of his protectors had allowed him to attend, let alone permitted him from their sight, but there was something about his gaze – a certain intensity – that told Ant all he needed to know. "I've got it," Wilbur said, waving the servants away with a flick of his wrist before he herded Ant over to the vanity. "You lot focus on Skeppy, would you? He's just as much the man of the hour as Ant, isn't he?"

Ant played along, knowing that Wilbur would not do this without reason, knowing that the older bearer had a purpose in mind.  He waited patiently, holding still while Wilbur began dusting his cheeks with more powder - a subtle thing that would keep him from appearing shiny, which was apparently a great faux pas.

"I cannot say much," Wilbur whispered when he was sure the others were out of earshot. "And I know you won't like this, but you have to trust me."

"Say it," Ant whispered, knowing they would not be afforded another moment of relative privacy for the rest of the evening.

"Bad needs to be publicly rejected by bearers," Wilbur said. "It's what he wants and it is what I shall do, and I know your instincts will hate that, but you can't defend him." 

Ant wanted to snarl at the very thought of it, but Wilbur's gaze fixed to his own indicated that the piglin hybrid already knew that.  Knew it full well, which was why they were having this conversation now, with others nearby.  It was so Ant would maintain his composure rather than surrendering to his rage. 

"I don't know why he needs it," Wilbur said. "I hate it too, but he asked, Ant, as much as he's allowed, and if you can help with it- or just- just ignore him.  That could do the trick too."

"It is cruel," Ant whispered, because he needed to express that much. "Asking that of me." 

"I know." Wilbur looked sad as he said it. "But if it can help Bad... just think of the ways you can make it up to him later."

Assuming that Bad didn't dig himself into a hole so deep he couldn't get out of it.  Assuming he doesn't set himself on fire to keep the rest of them warm-

It will be so, so hard, but for Bad, Ant will try.

"I hate this," Ant murmured, blinking back frustrated tears.  He had been happy just a second ago, mooning over the beautiful gift Skeppy had given him-

But it wasn't by choice.  He was merely playing a part right now, much like Ant.

They all had to do their part.

"I know," Wilbur repeated. "I'm sorry." 

It didn't fix anything.  It barely even made Ant feel better, but it did allow him to mentally prepare, and that was enough.  He could only hope that his instincts wouldn't flare up and take matters out of his hands.

Prime, he really did need to avoid Bad.  There would be no other way around it.

"We can do it," Wilbur said, and Ant didn't know who he was trying to convince. "It will be okay."

Or it wouldn't be, but there was no point in worrying about it now.

Positive manifestation.  Positive manifestation.  He would like to manifest some fucking positivity right now, if that wouldn't be too hard. 

"I'm sorry," Wilbur repeated, looking genuinely stricken by what he'd shared - as much as he could afford to at least, because none of them could truly let go of their respective masks. 

He wouldn't ask this of Ant if he didn't have to.  He probably would have avoided it altogether if it was possible, but he couldn't let Ant defend Bad or else his own work would be for nought. 

It made it extremely difficult to think about enjoying this party, especially when Ant knew that Bad would be there.  And that was- that was always an expectation.  If Ant got married to a nice peacekeeper who could keep his secret, Bad was always going to be there and Ant had prepared for that- just- he was supposed to be there with Skeppy. 

Now Ant was taking his place and had to publicly deny him, but he- he had to protect Bad.  Had to trust him.  Had to do that rather than focus on his own feelings, because they were irrelevant in this instance.

"It's okay," Ant lied, releasing a slow breath. "Thank you for warning me.  I need- I've got to go get in character."

"Let me actually fix your makeup first," Wilbur murmured and it was- doing this with Wilbur now, Ant truly felt like he was preparing for his debut.  Despite acting in an adult capacity in society for years now, it was this that made Ant truly feel like he was making his debut. The nerves and quiet reassurance offered by a parental figure-

He was many years too late and had a host of complications that normal debutants wouldn't have to face, but this was the closest he would ever get to recreating that feeling.  It was difficult to savor though.

"There you go, sweetheart," Wilbur said, straightening with a grunt as he looked over his work.  There was a fond smile on his lips, something that radiated pride that Ant allowed himself to savor. "You look beautiful." 

"Thanks, mama," Ant murmured, ears giving a happy twitch.  It wasn't perfect, and it couldn't be, but it was close.

They allowed themselves a moment of quiet bonding – or rather, Wilbur allowed him to take all the time he needed while Ant built himself up to face the rest of the world.  As much as Tina wanted to insist otherwise, this wasn't a purely indulgent event.  He was achieving a purpose here – it was a job, and he was good about completing those with perfect execution.  It was how he'd stayed at the top of all his classes while hiding his presentation back at the academy, and he could do it again now.  Perhaps it wasn't the best time to mentally revisit, but if it helped him get through things, he wasn't going to judge it. They were all just doing their best here.

"Okay," Ant said when he knew he could linger no more. He eased into his best smile, trying to instill warmth in it.  He didn't want to stray towards the disposition he'd used to charm his way into Sam's department, but if he did something close, he'd be alright. 

He didn't know if Wilbur noticed anything, the piglin hybrid's expression painfully neutral, but he didn't order Ant to stop, and that was enough.

"If you need distance, or if someone's being a prick, just hiss at them," Wilbur advised. "It's the same strategy I have in place for the baby shower, you just get to use it first.  Break it in for me."

"You got it," Ant said, feeling lighter at the idea of helping, and perhaps that was the point.

Either way, it was a bit easier when he crossed back to Skeppy's side, hating just how much his instincts perked up by being in the protector's presence.

"Okay," Ant repeated, mentally bracing himself. "Are you ready for this?"

"As I'll ever be," Skeppy said, the smile on his lips only seeming a bit strained at the edges, but-

Well, if anyone was practiced in faking it, it was Skeppy.  Up until recently he'd been stealthily sending his old sponsor diamonds, after all, almost certain it was a lifetime commitment. 

In a way, it was like Ant and Skeppy were perfect for each other.

"So, I uh-" Ant cleared his throat, and he knew they should- they probably should have talked about this beforehand but he kept pushing it off because it was so much, too much, and now it was here and he couldn't avoid it. "Look-"

"It's okay," Skeppy soothed, offering his arm out for Ant. "We've already gotten this far, we can get the rest of the way through it."

"I know," Ant said instead of 'I hope' because he was going to manifest some positivity if it killed him. "Just uh- gameplan, that's all.  I'm going to need to um- fawn over you, essentially, and I wanted to check in with you.  You know, establish boundaries."

Ant had thought doing that in regards to his future heat had been terrible, and yet this seemed even worse, possibly because it was benign and there were feelings – however fake – involved, rather than just a basic biological function to which they needed to cater. 

The tips of Skeppy's ears went dark. "Just uh- do whatever you need to," he decided. "I promise, it'll be okay.  Whatever you need, I'm here for you."

"Prime, this is so embarrassing," Ant breathed, allowing himself to just- cling to Skeppy's arm.  If anyone asked, he could pretend he was getting into character. "Could I uh- scent you?" 

"Sure," Skeppy squeaked, like actually- like he did for Bad, and it was cute, it was- and it was mostly because Ant was a bearer, but still, it made him feel a bit better.  His instincts, at least, were certainly satisfied with getting his scent all over Skeppy's shoulder, on the underside of his jaw.  Ant didn't even realize his chest was vibrating with a contented purr until he caught Skeppy's lashes fluttering and-

Right, getting an up close dose of happy bearer was probably overwhelming.

"Sorry," Ant murmured, wanting to be distant and wanting to cling to Skeppy and just sort of freezing instead.

"You really- please don't apologize," Skeppy murmured. "It's a lot, but a good a lot." 

"Okay," Ant said, still getting used to things.  One day, it would come easy.  For now though, he'd work, just as he'd always done.

"Just-" Skeppy continued, taking in a slow breath to steady himself and freezing – likely because he caught a noseful of bearer scent. "It's uh- I need to get used to it, and I will."

"Don't mean to rush you guys, but you should probably do that quickly," Tina advised, accepting the arm that Josh offered her.  

With his current political positioning being a delicate game torn between two very powerful houses, Josh couldn't afford to truly dive into the world of romance in search of a true partner anytime soon no matter how much Marquess Manifold and Ant hoped for it, but he also similarly couldn't afford to come to any events without a partner to ward off hopeful future duchesses and duke consorts.  There weren't many other bearers in the capital – and none that were unattached – but that didn't mean a few couldn't shift their eyes towards greener pastures.

Most bearers wouldn't – they knew where they needed to be and that was that – it was why there hadn't been more chasing after Philza after all these years, but given the current political unrest, Ant wouldn't be surprised if things might have changed. 

"We are somewhat short on time," Tina continued, disposition hardening as she prepared herself for battle.  Josh had felt bad inviting her as a political shield, but Ant was almost entirely certain that the only reason Tina had accepted his invitation was so she could subtly tell people to fuck off.  It wasn't Ant's chosen form of recreation but hey, whatever worked. "And it'd probably be better if Skeppy didn't look high out of his mind."

"Sorry," Ant repeated, even though it both wouldn't help and was only put out into the universe with the intention of making himself feel better rather than Skeppy. "We should have practiced."

"We had to be stealthy, my dude, it's okay," Skeppy said, giving Ant's arm a few pats. "Hard to keep your second sex a secret if I go around smell like a non-pregnant bearer." 

And that was- that was fair and valid but so very blunt that it made Ant's face burn, because he was still struggling to wrap his head around everything that was currently going on without daring to stray into the realm of pregnancy, which very well could be in his future now-

"Skeppy," Josh spoke up, his voice a low growl. "Learn some tact."

"Sorry." Skeppy's cheeks dusted in a dark flush. "My instincts are- they're loud right now.  Very much on cloud nine."

"We'll spin it in your favor," Wilbur declared with a clap of his hands. "Think about it – if you were used to Ant's scent, then that implies regular scentings before his engagement was annulled.  Like this, you may be somewhat mentally compromised, but no one could accuse you of having a long, drawn out affair." 

"Cool, cool, I'm not a hussy," Ant chanted under his breath, though not as quietly as he would have hoped based on the accusing look Tina sent him.

"You're not," the other cat hybrid insisted. "You're a bearer wounded over the loss of his platonic older protector, you solidified a connection with an old friend and realized you don't want to hide anymore or let him go.  It's a good story."

Ant sighed. "I just wish it made me seem less flighty." 

And self-absorbed.  It was still an adjustment to have such behavior be encouraged, but everyone had already assured him several times over that non-bearers found that sort of stuff to be endearing.  It is, in their opinion, a wonderful, inspirational tale – a good love story to distract from all the assassinations and kidnappings and war clean up. 

"If anything, this builds up Skeppy's credibility as a protector," Wilbur said. "He's helping you in a time where you're low, so wonderful that you couldn't deny your feelings for him any longer-" Ant ducked his head in an effort to hide the rush of heat that claimed his cheeks – he knew that Wilbur was only speaking in terms of the story that they were selling, but it landed too close to the truth for Ant not to feel flustered. "You're good. You'll both be good."

"What if they just think I'm an opportunist?" Ant asked. "Going after Skeppy after he was adopted into House Blade?"

"He only got that adoption because of you, remember?" Wilbur said, referring to the rumors they'd spread back then. "And if you were an opportunist, you'd go after- you know, as well."

Ant couldn't describe just how grateful he was that Wilbur didn't actually say Bad's name.  It wasn't something Ant could really handle right now.  He already had to deny the peacekeeper, but thinking about publically disparaging him-

It made his stomach twist in unhappy knots just thinking about it. 

"Manifest positivity," Tina reminded him, a somewhat manic gleam in her eyes. "Forget the piranhas for a second.  You're about to make your big, grand Cinderella entrance with a hot protector who's going to swing you around the dance floor and show you off all evening like the wonderful gift that you are.  You will be doted and waited on, and in doing all this, Skeppy's instincts are going to be at an all time high." She snapped the fingers of her free hand for emphasis before pointing at Ant emphatically. "This is going to be a good night, damnit, let yourself have that." 

"I'm here for you," Skeppy added, his voice soft but smile genuine as he gave Ant's hand a squeeze. "I am- I'm really glad I get to help you with this, Ant.  And not just because- it's not because you're a bearer, it's because you're Ant, who I'm lucky enough to be friends with.  I thought that before, and that didn't change after the picnic."

For all that Skeppy joked, Ant wasn't surprised by the onslaught of kind sincerity.  Between the two of them it was Ant that was the real trickster, but Skeppy - he played at it, but deep down, he was just a marshmallow.  It was one of the reasons Ant loved him so much. 

It was hard to conceal that in the wake of such close and dedicated attention, but Ant did what he could, funnelling it into his act as he allowed himself to nuzzle Skeppy's shoulder, knowing that if he didn't play his part perfectly to those waiting in the grand ballroom that they would only have more problems to come.

"Thanks, Skeppy," Ant murmured, leaning into the protector. His- his protector.

"My pleasure," Skeppy hummed, leaning right back. "We're in this together, yeah?"

"Partners," Ant agreed, the wording making that small space in his chest flutter.

He held onto their pep talks.  Even if something bad happened, he had backup.  He would be fine.  This would- it would be as good as it could be.

With that, they were off. 

The other four parted ways with them, moving to reach a different entrance of the ball room so they could watch Ant and Skeppy descend the grand staircase.  They still had a few maids accompanying them so they weren't alone, but after this, it wouldn't actually matter so much.  

It was more bearer privilege coming into play.  With a formal engagement, if Ant happened to get pregnant before the wedding- well, that would only be celebrated since impregnating a bearer was one of the greatest aspirations a protector could hope for.  As such, after this it wouldn't really matter if they had a chaperone or not, which felt horrifically unfair considering the hoops they'd jumped through before this point specifically because they'd happened to be alone together maybe a couple of times.

But this would help Bad, and it made Skeppy feel good, so that was what Ant held onto.

He shoved away the small part of him that acknowledged that it would also make him feel good, make him feel great because he still felt terrible about that part, and the resulting guilt of it didn’t actually help anyone and at some point, he’d be able to let it go.

Was this how his papa had felt when he left?  The thought seemed to blindside Ant, though that tended to be the way of things that regarded his father ever since his conversation with Duchess Wastaken.  Sam seemed to know something was happening, had known he was heading towards danger, but he’d done it anyway.  Gone anyway.

And look where it had gotten him.  He was dead, but Eret-

Eret wasn’t.

Ant turned his head away from Skeppy, forcefully exhaling.  He hated how even after all these days, that sentiment felt buried in his bones.  He knew it with complete and yet entirely unfounded certainty, and he hated it.  Was it more bearer hysteria related to his delayed heat?  It didn’t feel that way, but how could he be sure as the supposedly afflicted bearer?  He would have to ask Lindsay about it later.

“Hey,” Skeppy said, tugging them to a halt.  Ant could hear the maids draw to a halt a respectful distance behind them, but Ant didn’t pay them much mind, his focus entirely on Skeppy. “If you don’t- look, Ant – I’m your protector for as long as you want me, I’m glad to do that, but if you don’t want me like this…” He let the implication hang in the air, petting the hand that sported the engagement ring he and Techno had worked so hard on. “Damn politics and damn what anyone else says – damn my reputation, we’re going to do what you want, okay?  So if you want to go, or if you just want to debut as a Manifold and not come out as a bearer or announce an engagement or whatever – just- fuck everyone else, okay?  We’re only going to do what you want.”

He said this with a conviction that wouldn’t be denied, with a ferocity he meant with every fiber of his being.  It was simply who Skeppy was, and Ant had always known that.  He was charming and funny as a natural shield, something that kept him likeable without being too terribly threatening to the other protectors among high society, but at his core, Skeppy was utterly loyal to those that he deemed worthy, and Ant had been fortunate enough to fall into those ranks.

In the wake of such candor, of such care, Ant found that he could no longer entirely hold himself back.

“…I want this,” Ant admitted, shame and guilt twisting into an angry cocktail that roiled in his stomach. “That’s um- that’s why I feel bad.  Because you don’t- you got caught up in this because I couldn’t think far enough ahead.  I just-” He flexed his free hand uselessly, trying to find a way to explain it. “I didn’t think it would matter.”

He wasn’t supposed to be brought in as a Manifold.  He wasn’t supposed to have any substantial connection to the Awes.  He was supposed to be a nobody, be disposable, so it wouldn’t really matter if his reputation was tanked or not.  No one was ever supposed to find out he was a bearer anyway.

But Sam had.  Years ago.  He’d learned, and others had learned and he’d made them keep it a secret.  He had doted on Ant, giving him the home and protection he wanted without any strings attached.  Sam- Papa had been a wonderful protector.

Standing here in this hall, being gifted nothing but support and care for him specifically despite his previous engagement having been freshly destroyed, Ant knew that he’d somehow stumbled upon another great protector.

“I know, Ant,” Skeppy said, and he wasn’t angry.  He wasn’t- he didn’t seem mad at all.  There was no resignation in his tone, only a deep-rooted understanding. “I’ve been there, you know? I thought I was nothing more than a gem making factory with a good smile, and I didn’t- I didn’t hate it, because at least it got me food.  At least someone cared about me, however superficially.  I mattered, and then I met Bad…”

“Yeah,” Ant murmured when the golem hybrid trailed off. “And then suddenly it seemed like maybe I really could have substantial connections in the world.”

“Exactly!” Skeppy said, perking up. “He made us both see that we could be more!  That we could have more.  We have the greatest Bad connection and I- I know you probably- like me, you hate this. I hate it, I want him here with us.  I wish it could be all three of us here.  I want- it would be so cool, you know, to dote on you with him.  He’s such a good alpha, and…”

He didn’t seem to know how to continue, but for Ant, that had been more than enough.

“You don’t resent it?” Ant asked, because at some point he had to rather than just internally catastrophizing as though it were going out of style. “That I butted in on your relationship?”

The amount of comfort he derived from Skeppy’s expression of earnest confusion could scarcely be quantified. “No? I told you, once we got past our misunderstanding, I was all for Team Ant.  It always felt like you were pack with Bad, and getting a shot to be pack with you too… that’s amazing.”

Oh.  Oh, that did wonderful things for Ant’s instincts.  He was just going to very happily cling to those as they buzzed merrily in the back of his mind.

“I am sad about whatever’s going on with Bad,” Skeppy said. “But being engaged to you, marrying you- that’s not something I would ever regret, and not just because you’re a bearer.”

“You are um- getting good at circumventing my concerns,” Ant admitted, feeling his cheeks puff out in annoyance.

“It’s all those therapy sessions I sat in on,” Skeppy said, shooting him a wink. “Look, I am in this one hundred percent.  I’m happy- I’m honored to be here with you, so while I know I can’t stop you worrying about everything, please don’t let that concern add to your load, because it doesn’t need to be there.  And um-” He looked off to the side, his cheeks dusting in a flush. “You don’t have to feel bad about the fawning or anything.  Physical demonstrations of affection are one of my favorite love languages.”

“Aw, Skeppy,” Ant said, his heart just- so very full.  Why would anyone overlook this golem hybrid?  How could they be so idiotic?

“You don’t have to stroke my ego,” Skeppy muttered, sounding bashful.  It was a rare demonstration from him, and as such, Ant couldn’t help but pounce on it.

“What if I want to?” Ant hummed, leaning down so he could nuzzle Skeppy’s shoulder again. It felt just as wonderful as it had the first time. “You have such a nice, long-”

“Ant,” Skeppy hissed, and the cat hybrid cackled while also maybe hating himself because they probably weren’t at the sexual innuendo stage and now that he’d brought it up he couldn’t stop thinking about it but sweet Prime, was this not the time, they’d literally just gotten on the same page.

“Sorry,” Ant said, giving Skeppy’s arm a few comforting pats. “And thank you.  We’re in this together.”

“Partners,” Skeppy said, perking up. “We’ll help Bad, whatever it takes, but it’s- it’s okay to be happy while we do so.  I don’t think he’d want us to agonize over every moment without him.”

“No,” Ant agreed. “He wouldn’t, so um- yeah, let’s do this.”

“Only if you want,” Skeppy repeated, and Ant wasted a useless moment wishing he could just kiss the protector senseless.

But that was- they’d work up to it.  It’d be fine.

“I want,” Ant repeated, knowing Skeppy needed to hear it. “Let’s do this thing, sweetheart.”

“That’s my line, pumpkin,” Skeppy shot right back, and it wasn’t entirely business as usual, but it was- it was nice.

Chapter Text

Skeppy would like to think that he was doing a good job of keeping himself together, but he honestly couldn’t be sure if that was the case.  At the very least, none of Ant’s maids were shooting him concerned looks, so he guessed he was doing okay.  If anything, they offered him warm, approving smiles whenever he happened to glance in their direction, like they were pleased for the protector the bearer in their care had chosen, and Skeppy just- he wasn’t great.  He was doing the bare minimum here, but when Ant had seemed so nervous, he couldn’t not offer to help.  Skeppy knew that Techno would back him to the very best of his abilities (and wasn’t that crazy? That he had family to fall back on, powerful family that he didn’t doubt, didn’t have to worry about having their trust because it was there, implicit and unyielding), and while he also knew that leaving now would make a rocky road ahead of them, would be a major setback, if it was what Ant wanted, then it was what needed to be done.  Hell, Skeppy would have thought that before he knew Ant was a bearer.  In the grand scheme of things, that factoid seemed to be utterly irrelevant (with the exception that were it not for that, Ant wouldn’t be forced to marry Skeppy in the first place, because regardless of what Wilbur had said in the garden, two hybrids incapable of reproduction were not nearly so harshly scrutinized as two hybrids that were).  It was still sometimes difficult to grasp the fact that Ant was a bearer at all.  He rarely acted on his bearer instincts, didn’t make bearer vocalizations, just- he was so peacekeeper-y, or so Skeppy had thought.

He knew he was a bit bamboozled from their last battle planning meeting in Ant’s room.  His dressing room.  Not his- not where his nest was.  And Skeppy hated, hated how much his instincts dreamed of seeing that nest, just knowing that it existed- that Ant had one, that he’d had one for years- that he’d built makeshift ones in the suite Skeppy had slept in- sweet Prime, it was a wonder Skeppy could even function at this point.  How he had even gotten through that discussion in Ponk’s bathroom- well, he’d just pretended it was a strategy meeting and emotionally detached himself right then and there, which wasn’t a long-term strategy he could employ but at the moment it had been the only option available to him.

But right- bamboozlement.  Because Ant had- had actually acted like a bearer, had apologized for it because from this point on, it would be necessary, would be expected.  Bearers- it wasn’t right for a crowd, for society to dictate their behavior any more than they should dictate the behavior of any other kind of hybrid.  There were many different ways to protect, to peacekeep.  One did not have to be a huge, hulking warrior to defend their family – they could provide emotional shelter instead.  They could be a steadfast and firm leader, a figurative port in a storm.  Peacekeepers didn’t have to be perfectly congenial, they didn’t have to be overly nice.  Eret had proven that with his stoic disposition – there was no one way to do things, was Skeppy’s point, but things were a bit different in Ant’s case.  He’d spent years masquerading as a peacekeeper and they kind of just- needed to wipe that all away.  Those of society that had known Ant before this point wouldn’t forget, and to reinforce who Ant was now, and the protection and consideration he deserved, the cat hybrid had to do the bearer-y things that Quackity and Wilbur did on the regular, that Jack-

But Skeppy couldn’t think about Jack now and didn’t know if he could ever think about Jack and how much of his guilt was from failing the small blaze hybrid and the fear that he would also fail Ant and by extension fail Josh because the guy had two brothers and they were both bearers and Skeppy was attached to both of them and Jack was now dead and-

Prime, best not to think of that either.

In instances like this, it was better to dwell on Ant’s sudden um- doting- the increased physical displays of affection, but not dwell too much or Skeppy would get lost in his instincts because he was so damn romantic-affection starved by this point, which he hadn’t even realized could be a problem, but apparently going from getting regular doses of that from Bad over the years to suddenly nothing was fucking him up more than he would like.  So this stuff with Ant- he loved it and also feared it because what if he started overreacting?  What if he tried to- to kiss Ant?  The cat hybrid had already said that it was okay, but they hadn’t practiced, and Skeppy was used to the fire and brimstone and heat of Bad.  What would Ant be like?  And worse, what if Skeppy’s protector instincts wanted more, got possessive?  Already, he was fighting the urge to throw Ant over his shoulder and carry the cat hybrid back to his nest and-

He actually didn’t know what they would do at that point, but no one else would be able to see how pretty Ant was so that seemed like a solid victory in itself.

Cool, great to know he could be one of those types of protectors.

And honestly, the fact that the other guests in attendance would only look on this fondly (except for those that would be overwhelmed with jealousy, but that was the same bunch that would have been unhappy regardless because they sucked and no one would ever want them anyway, let alone a bearer) really wasn’t helping his restraint. 

Was it too late to just turn around?

Yes, yes it was, and Skeppy needed to get through this.  Bad and Ant were counting on him.  Sapnap was counting on him to be a good role model.  Techno was counting on him to-

Well, anything short of traipsing into Schlatt territory would be supported by Techno, so Skeppy didn’t have anything to worry about there, but tell that to his anxiety.

“Hey,” Ant said as they drew closer to the double doors that would lead to the balcony of the grand ballroom, from where Ant would be introduced and make his beautiful entrance hanging on Skeppy’s arm, and Skeppy’s relationship with Bad would officially be over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m worried,” Skeppy admitted, because they’d come too far not to be honest with each other. “About my instincts, mostly.  About um- if they- I’m worried I might be possessive.”

Ant took this in with a slow blink, seeming surprised by the admittance.  It was likely Skeppy’s imagination that had his cheeks coloring in a light flush. “I uh- look, Skeppy, I trust you, right?  I trust that even if you do get possessive, it wouldn’t be in a gross way and honestly, that uh- my instincts are cool with it.”

Oh fuck, Skeppy didn’t need to know that.

But now he did, and his instincts were thrilled, made him want to puff up with pride and haul Ant away and at least one of those urges needed to be stifled.

“They feel- smug?” Ant continued. “That you want to take care of me like that, but no one else out there does, so uh- yeah, don’t sweat it.”

“Cool,” Skeppy got out. “Cool, cool, cool.”

Now if only he could get his brain to realize it was cool-cool-cool, they’d be set.

“Are you okay?” Ant repeated, watching him carefully. “Was that too much?  Your instincts getting loud?”

“Um.” Skeppy felt his cheeks burn. “Sorry.”

“You super- my guy, we cannot keep apologizing to each other over what is fundamentally not a problem.” Ant held his pinky out, offering it to Skeppy with a small wiggle. “I’ll try if you try?  Because I know I’ve already apologized for a lot and you’ve comforted me so much and just- we trust each other, we trust our instincts, and we don’t need to apologize for them.” He ducked his head a little, clearing his throat. “Not when they make us feel good.”

Dazed, Skeppy reached his pinky out, hooking it with Ant’s and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Bearer happy-protector help happy bearer- bearer happy protector helps all rang through Skeppy’s mind, not really helping with the desire to hide Ant from the world.

But no, he’d just- he’d warp the impulse, shift it into something more useful.  Ant wanted to debut, so Skeppy was going to help him do that in the best way possible, help the bearer show himself off and look good while doing it.  That would be Skeppy’s new baseline, banishing the fear and anxiety to the far corners of his mind.

Surprisingly enough, the pinky promise helped wonders.

“Thanks, Ant,” Skeppy said, feeling ten times lighter.

“No problem,” Ant purred and then, after a moment’s hesitation, he ducked in to-

It was a brief press of lips against Skeppy’s cheeks, but he couldn’t help but be hyper aware of them and so, so very grateful for his cup – sweet Prime.

He might have- squeaked or something? Which earned a giggle from Ant, who seemed entirely delighted with himself.

“Just like that,” Ant soothed, giving Skeppy’s arm a few pats. “No one would ever dare accuse us of canoodling if you respond that sincerely.”

Yes, but they may very well accuse Skeppy of jumping ship entirely because he was horny, and what was worse was that most of the protectors in high society wouldn’t actually blame him for it.  The idea of how it looked made his eyes burn, but- but they would get Bad in here with them one day, they would.

For now, they just had to play defense.

“You’re a menace,” Skeppy informed him, earning a delighted grin from Ant.

“I learn from the best,” Ant said, shooting him a wink.

A throat cleared from nearby before Skeppy could formulate a response (which was likely for the best, he had no idea what he was going to say, but it’d probably be mushy and horrible). They turned to find the Manifold’s butler waiting for them.

“It’s almost time, my lords,” the butler said, offering them a polite bow. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I think,” Ant said, putting on a brave face.  Or perhaps he really was ready for this after Skeppy’s pep talk – it was hard to tell with him.  He’d hidden for so long- but then again, Skeppy had hidden fundamental parts of himself for years as well.  He supposed that it would take a while for them to get used to truly trusting each other with their emotional state, which was hard to dwell on when Ant aimed that dazzling smile at Skeppy. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Skeppy said, anxiety bubbling in his chest with a steady flutter, a superfluous energy Skeppy decided to use like a steam engine to push himself forward. “Let’s have a big, fabulous party for you.  You deserve it.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Ant huffed, a nice flush dusting across his cheeks. Before Skeppy could push him on the matter, Ant was waving the butler on, who in turn motioned towards the footmen positioned on either side of the double doors.

This was it.

“I will not piss myself,” Ant said, sounding unfairly serious – so much so that Skeppy didn’t initially process his words until he was choking on a laugh. “What? I won’t.”

“Ant,” Skeppy hissed. “I’m supposed to be the comedic relief here.”

“You’re just going to have to share the burden today,” Ant declared with a sniff. “Because I have to diffuse situations with humor, you know this.”

“Just don’t talk about pissing yourself down there.”

Ant shot him an unimpressed look. “I won’t. Why do you think I was using my most majestic material now?”

The butler cleared his throat again. “We’re opening the doors, sir.”

“Thank you,” Ant hummed, and they were off.

It wasn’t the first time Skeppy had assisted with a dramatic entrance.  Bad’s initial coronation as crown prince might have been a rushed emergency procedure, but they’d given him a proper party in the end, after the war was over.  Skeppy had been there for that, overwhelmed with pride and intent to show his partner off in a way that Bad would never truly permit himself, but he was so cool and so smart and the empire really was lucky to have Bad at its helm, as little as the Nether Demon appreciated when Skeppy said that.  It was just- it was true, was all.  It was true.  

And Ant deserved that same amount of recognition and appreciation.  Skeppy would see that it was done.  Hopefully, that would be enough to distract his protector instincts from wanting to hoard Ant.

The doors opened, and Skeppy guided Ant out onto the balcony that looked out onto the gathered crowd.  Despite being on the verge of becoming a duchy, Marquess Manifold didn’t invite everyone.  There were some unsavory sorts that could not be avoided, of course – they were needed to spread this information to the far reaches of the empire – but for the most part, the guest list had been cultivated for maximum allies and trusted friends, which should make this easier.

It didn’t, of course, as the gasps and murmurs started breaking over the crowd, but as per Wilbur’s coaching, Skeppy ignored it.

Without context, it was odd for Skeppy to accompany Ant – at least, odd of him to do so without Bad.  By this point, rumors of their engagement ending would have circulated throughout the capital already, and this would all but seal the deal.  Combining that with the ring on Ant’s finger – the one that might be missed from this distance but wouldn’t be up close – and the story would be entirely filled in.

Now they just had to embellish.  Spin it in a positive direction.

No pressure.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my adopted ward, Lord Ant Frost!” Marquess Manifold called from where he was positioned on the upper balcony, near one of the staircases that led down. “Ant was chosen as the late Duke Samuel’s assistant in the Infrastructure Guild and worked closely with my grandson and current heir to the Awe Duchy, Josh Manifold.  In that time, he became like family to us, so it only seemed natural to include him under the Manifold emblem.  Ant?”

“Thank you, my lord,” Ant said, voice projecting easily across the ballroom as he dipped into the smallest of curtseys, tipping his head ever so slightly. “It is an honor to become part of such a wonderful legacy.” He turned his attention towards the audience, then offered them the same curtsey which in itself set off another wave of murmurs as male peacekeepers generally tended to bow. “Thank you all for coming to my debut.  I’m honored by your presence.” He rose, offering them a dazzling smile, and took a deep breath. “Thank you, thank you!” he cheered in Bearer, giving them a small wave.

Immediately, the ballroom exploded into muffled waves of noise – groups of nobles gossiping amongst each other in an urgent effort to exchange information without being too terribly rude.

Ant held his hand up in a bid for silence as though nothing had ever happened, and waited for the chaos to die down. “I realize this may be a bit of a shock for everyone,” he said. “I never thought I would type flip, but the loss of such a strong protector influence in my life combined with the stress of these current times – well, it seems that Prime has smiled down upon me, and I have been fortunate enough to have solid friends and family to fall back on as I navigate this new portion of my life, but um- more importantly, I have Skeppy,” Ant continued, aiming that grin at the golem hybrid and it wasn’t the one from before, the private one that was just for the two of them, and that was both comforting and a bit of a heartbreak. “We’ve been fortunate enough to work together recently and I- I realized I don’t want to be without him so um-” He ducked his head – bashful, but in a calculated way, not in the true expression he’d worn before, and somehow Skeppy could tell the difference. “Marquess Manifold and Marquess Blade have granted permission for our engagement, so this party is just as much to celebrate that as it is to celebrate my formal debut into society.” He hugged onto Skeppy, making a show of scenting his shoulder. “Thank you all for coming! We’ll be in your care!”

And with that, the polite murmurs gave away to a dull roar as the collective worked to process this new influx of information.

Holy shit, they'd done it.  No, Ant had done it- had done it flawlessly, and anxiety still furiously churned in Skeppy's stomach but he was able to banish it away in favor of pride, because he knew it must have been difficult but Ant had done it so well, and of course he had, he was Ant. 

Ant shifted his free hand to join the other wrapped around Skeppy's arm, and the golem hybrid took that as his cue to guide Ant down the staircase. 

"You don't have to be so gooey eyed," Ant murmured from the side of his mouth. "You don't want to oversell it."

"You're just so cool, though," Skeppy said, being honest and knowing how Ant would perceive the honesty as a joke.  It hurt, but at least it made Ant laugh, made his shoulders loose the small thread of tension that had gathered in them, had the cat hybrid looking on him with fondness that might be feigned because they were in front of a crowd but if that was the case, Skeppy had to allow himself to believe in it too, otherwise Ant's work would be for nought. 

Perhaps it might crush him in the end, but that was simply his duty as a protector.  He could be no other way. 

"Cutie," Ant muttered, his cheeks dusted with a flush as he turned his gaze forward once more, and really just how- how did he expect Skeppy to function if he kept acting like that?

But that was Skeppy's problem and they managed to make it to the base of the staircase without issue, so Skeppy guessed he'd figure things out one way or another.

Marquess Manifold and Techno met them at the base of the stairs, as was customary with an engagement party, and the two of them offered joint greetings to their family heads before presenting themselves to their partner's packhead.  Ant was first, as was dictated by custom. Techno offered out his hands as a show of acceptance and Ant gladly took them, the bearer dipping into another slight curtsy that Techno matched with a small bow of respect, showing his approval for the union.  Then it was Skeppy's turn to bow to Marquess Manifold – demonstrating his respect and deferment towards Ant's grandfather.  When he straightened, the marquess took him by the shoulders and knocked their heads together in a brief headbutt before offering a slight bow of his head.  This showed his respect for Skeppy as a warrior while bundling it in a show of fondness.  It was the warmest way a protector could be welcomed into a family of such high nobility, and despite having practiced it with Techno, Skeppy still felt somewhat dazed. It was only Ant's firm grip reclaiming his arm that helped Skeppy stay grounded. 

The cat hybrid released a purr in Feline – an attention calling measure they had agreed on beforehand in case Skeppy's focus strayed (it was one of his weaknesses he most greatly despised) and the golem hybrid pulled himself together, turning to face his partner and dipping into another bow.

"May I have this dance, my dear?" Skeppy asked, pulse beginning to pick up in his throat at the prospect of the first dance.

Ant smiled at him like nothing in the world would delight him more, a pleased flush coloring his cheeks as he bashfully braced a hand against his jaw, as though he could scarcely believe that the time was finally upon him. "I would love to." 

It certainly felt like the urges of two lovesick and eager young hybrids rather than a carefully orchestrated performance.  Skeppy had done a first dance during Bad's party as well, and while that had been terrifying, he had the comfort of Bad's presence.  He also hadn't had to lead and no one had expected anything from a commoner knight anyway, so even if he had messed up, it would- well, it would have reflected poorly on Bad maybe, but Bad certainly hadn't cared. 

Things were different now.  It was no question that Skeppy would lead, which meant he had to remember everything, and he was with a bearer, so if he screwed up-

"Hey," Ant said, and he was just- right there, bumping their foreheads together. "Let's have fun, yeah?" 

"That's my line," Skeppy said on reflex, floating but in a bevy of fondness rather than anxiety.  Ant pulled away, but they still held hands all the way to the center of the floor, and then they did the customary initial bow and curtsy, but Skeppy couldn't dwell on all the ways he could do it wrong because Ant was smiling at him.

It was so sappy when he stopped to think about it.  It felt stupid, to be so easily swayed, but he couldn't feel guilty, had to hold onto the positive emotions to accurately sell their story, but more than that, he wanted to be happy, he was happy, and that was- that was the point.

He tugged Ant forward, the lightest of movements because his instincts wouldn't allow him to do anything that could possibly cause Ant harm, and despite being shorter than the cat hybrid, the bearer seemed to fit easily into the shelter of Skeppy's arms, feeling so very good in the protector's embrace. 

"Hey," Skeppy said, because at some point he needed to do some emotional lifting too. "We're going to do great."

"Naturally," Ant sniffed, but his smile seemed a bit more relaxed, and that was enough for Skeppy. 

The music started and they eased into a familiar pattern.  As neither of them frequented high society functions, they had both neglected their dance studies which limited their options.  Skeppy had slightly more training as Bad's fiancé, and Ant had picked up some things from Sam and Josh for the fun of it, but neither of them could really be called naturals.  They were never going to be effortless and perfect, so Wilbur had told them to focus on the other aspects of their performance – in this case, their connection to each other.

It was much easier than Skeppy had thought it would be.

It was just- Ant.  Skeppy wanted things to be good for him to make up for all the trials the cat hybrid had gone through.  He wanted this to be fun, so he did his best, and when he saw Ant smiling, when he earned a laugh, Skeppy's chest swelled with pride and awe beyond compare. 

Good-good-protector good- good protector help bearer his instincts sung.  He was glad that he could help Ant and held onto those feelings, grateful that his possessive side hadn't come into play.  If Ant wanted to be shown off, Skeppy would help him do it, would execute it in the best way possible to make his bearer- the bearer happy.

A laugh spilled from Ant's chest, and it left a haze of contentment clouding the back of Skeppy's mind.  They weren't perfect, they were never going to be perfect, but they could at least be happy.

Skeppy eased Ant into a dip with ease despite their height difference (he uh- did work out after all, and the effortlessness of it further boosted his protector ego), and earned another pleased purr from Ant.

"Thank you, thank you," Ant cooed, lashes fluttering against his cheek as he looked at Skeppy with a half-lidded gaze. "Love you."

Oh fuck.

"Good-good-good," Skeppy rumbled back, couldn't stray into the L-word territory without potentially shattering his cover, even if it wasn't sincere.  And Ant's wasn't- or it was, but not in the sense that Skeppy wanted, but tell that to his instincts.

Fortunately, he was distracted by another laugh from Ant when he pulled the cat hybrid upright. "Did you just 'I know' me?" 

"I'm focusing on my footwork, babe," Skeppy murmured, hoping that if he was flushing that it would be excused as exertion from the dance.  He dropped his voice, tugging Ant as close as proprietary would allow. "Love you, love you." 

"You're so dumb," Ant complained, but his tone was nothing but fond, building up that stupid heat in Skeppy's chest that he really should be better at ignoring considering his extended time with Bad – repeated exposure had allowed his raging fire to burn into a consistent but fervent ember – but it was like he was starting at the beginning with Ant, which he guessed he actually was even if it was in a fake sense, and that was just- yeah.

He really had just- confessed to how pleased he was to pamper Ant for the rest of his life earlier, hadn't he?  Sweet Prime, he was a simp.  It was a wonder Ant hadn't noticed, but the cat hybrid had other concerns at the time.  Skeppy just had to hope that the bearer wouldn't reevaluate that experience more thoroughly at a later date. 

"Dumb for you," Skeppy said with a wag of his brows in an effort to distract himself, and Ant laughed again, and Skeppy just-

He wanted to spend the rest of his life earning that sound, and he could.  Even if it wasn't as a lover, he could do that, and it would be enough. 

All too soon, they came to a halt with an exaggerated flourish, the two of them bowing and curtseying to each other to signify the end of the first dance.

There, they'd done it.  They'd gotten through it and no one had tripped or thrown anything at them or booed, so it had gone as well as it was ever going to. 

Ant turned his dazzling smile upon the audience as he reclaimed Skeppy's arm. "Let the ball commence!" he declared, waving the band leader on, and with that they exited the floor, stepping off to the side while the marble was claimed by other couples eager to show off. 

"That went well," Ant murmured into his ear as they paused to procure champagne flutes from one of the few waiters that had been cleared to serve Ant specifically. "Now onto phase two."

"I am so good at rubbing elbows," Skeppy lied, because once upon a time he actually had been good at that, but that was among commoners and lower nobility who were more accustomed to interacting with commoners.  The higher up he got on the social chain though, the less receptive his audiences became, though that had changed with his adoption into the Blade March. 

Still, it was hard to shake old conditioning. 

Ant released a pleased purr. "Darn right you are," he said, sounding proud as he nuzzled Skeppy's shoulder, further ingraining his scent into the fabric. "Nothing but the best for me." 

"Yep," Skeppy agreed, hoping his voice wasn't as tight as it felt, that it'd just sounded normal and not like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him because if Ant had been joking, Skeppy's instincts hadn't gotten the memo, and if he hadn't been joking, Skeppy was at risk for being horrifically distracted the rest of the evening, so he just took that emotional response, shoved it in a box to be examined at a later date, which would hopefully be never.  Never sounded great. 

Ant laughed at him, which hurt- "It was just one dance, Skeppy, you can't be this winded," he joked, thinking- oh, he'd thought that- "What happened to that amazing stamina of yours?"

"I'll show you amazing stamina, alright," Skeppy snipped back before he could really think about it – it was the same kind of retort he would offer Bad, but Ant wasn't Bad, he was-

Ant's purr took a deep turn. "I'm looking forward to it," he whispered, offering Skeppy a flutter of his lashes before he shifted his focus towards his flute of champagne.

Joking.  He was joking.  That was- they were playing a part, and Skeppy couldn't take it seriously.  He had to act.                                                                                         

So he released a low rumble, something along the lines of thank you, sexy without being a proper vocalization, and was pleased by the flush that painted the crest of Ant's cheeks. 

The bearer pouted at him. "Not while I'm drinking."

"Sorry," Skeppy murmured, shifting into a wry grin. "I couldn't resist." 

"Hey, you cool cats and manifestations of blessed living stone," Wilbur greeted, cutting into their huddle and hanging on the emperor's arm. "That's enough flirting for now.  Gotta start networking.  I've lined up some soft balls for starters – though I did reserve a few in case you require some timely interventions later on."

"It's much appreciated," Ant said, smoothing into his game face a bit more properly, dipping into a curtsy as Skeppy bowed. "We're forever grateful for your attention and consideration, your majesty."

"None of that from you, sweetheart," Wilbur said, fussing over Ant's hair as though he hadn't seen the cat hybrid but fifteen minutes before. "Oh, you look so gorgeous.  I think I might cry." 

"Mama..." Ant began, seeming stricken.

"It's alright, Ant, I've got it from here," Philza said, offering them both a supportive nod as he wrapped an arm around his pregnant husband. "You focus on yourselves.  Try to have fun, and remember, we're here for you." 

"Thanks, your majesty," Skeppy said, offering one more bow before they moved onto the next couple, which just happened to be Duke and Duchess Wastaken.   

Things moved steadily from there.  They exchanged pleasantries, put to work that hard-earned knowledge they had fervently studied for the guests they didn't know as well, selling their cover story.  The entire time, Ant found opportunities to nuzzle and cuddle him, releasing low, pleased purrs and gazing at Skeppy with an open adoration that made wrestling his protector instincts into submission difficult.  But he did it, because he wasn't going to ruin Ant's night, and while he wasn't able to hide the inner conflict as well as he would like, it at least seemed to earn them some bonus points in regards to relatability. 

"You're holding up admirably," one of the older, friendlier viscounts aligned with the Manifold March offered while his wife spoke with Ant. "I remember how difficult it was counting the days to my own wedding, but you only have to hold on for a few more hours, my lord.  You can do it."

"T-Thanks," Skeppy said, feeling his face get unbearably warm as the viscount shot him a playful wink, and while on one hand that was definitely the type of person he aspired to be when he got older, on the other, ugh. 

Just- he wasn't going to have sex with Ant after this, despite what everyone else though.  Or he might, but that was when his heat initiated, which wouldn't be-

Thank Prime for cups, was all Skeppy was saying.

There were other comments too.  Unavoidable things, things they'd been expecting that weren't nearly so kind or playful as the viscount.

"Ah," the new couple greeted, an older female pair, the protector standing tall and proud in a high-necked conservative gown with a stiffness that simulated armor rather than the flowing, soft finery the rest of the room's ladies seemed to favor. "Congratulations on your conquest." 

While they had been expecting something like this – and truthfully both Skeppy and Ant had grown up accustomed to stupid remarks from bitter, classist trash, Skeppy still found himself thrown by it, even if he refused to process it on anything more than the surface level, for to do so would be to grant this noble satisfaction she did not deserve. 

"Thank you," Ant said cheerfully, seeming of a similar mindset as he took this opportunity to nuzzle Skeppy's shoulder once more. "He was too sweet for me to pass up; I simply couldn't resist." 

"I imagine not," the noble said dryly, and for all that her words in themselves weren't entirely disrespectful, her tone told a different story. 

The protector's wife – a small, quiet thing – only offered them a weak smile, then seemed to make a determined effort to fade from notice entirely.

Ugh, so this was one of the people they had to invite even if they didn't want to. 

"We are, as always, fortunate to have another bearer in our midst," the protector continued in a hard deadpan. "And you showed admirable sense and restraint, not angling for the crown." 

Ant tensed, though his smile was kept firmly in place. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean." 

"Of course," the protector continued as though she had not heard Ant. "If this is simply the royal family's attempt at a long con, injecting a bearer to stabilize his royal highness's future rule-" She spat out Bad's title as though it were a vile thing, as though its mere presence burned her tongue. "-then it should be made known that such theatrics are insufficient to disguise your true intent." 

"I don't like what you're implying," Ant said with a bluntness that had the air vacating Skeppy's body so fast that it left him disoriented.  Left him so bamboozled that his face remained neutral, which was probably for the best when Ant shifted to wrap himself around Skeppy possessively, the cat hybrid curling around his back, arms threaded around Skeppy's waist and chin hooking over his shoulder, until the bearer seemed to surround him, gripping onto Skeppy with a possessive growl. "You may play a game where each action is a carefully crafted political statement, but I don't.  I love Skeppy.  I need him.  If I could have- I didn't want to break what he had, I didn't, but I needed him, and he was kind enough to indulge me."

"Ant," Skeppy spoke up, heat building in his eyes. "It's my honor-"

"You always say that," Ant complained, muttering the comment into Skeppy's shoulder while he scented him once more. "You always do this, and you-" This was aimed at the protector. "You think that I wanted to be a homewrecker?"

"The home is not wrecked if you have every intention to fix it the first chance you are able to," the protector said coolly, unimpressed by the display.

And there were always- always going to be people like this- who wouldn't listen to anything that might be contrary to their own summation of a situation- they had known that going in, it was just irritating to deal with it at present, especially when Skeppy felt so raw, when he wasn't sure what face he was supposed to present to others-

"Hello," a new voice said – familiar and gentle in a way that ached, and Skeppy felt his throat tighten, felt Ant tense ever so minutely before they turned to regard their newest guest.  

Bad looked as stunning as he ever did in his crown prince regalia, crown circling his horns with an effortless grace that made Skeppy want to cry.

"Please pardon my late arrival, Lord Frost, I was caught up in court, but I wanted to offer my greeting and well wishes as soon as possible."

Skeppy was- he was grateful that Bad had chosen to focus on Ant, because Skeppy himself didn't know what he'd say, didn't know what expression he was wearing on his face.  Probably his practiced smile shield – it had always come in handy throughout school, of course.

Ant's grip somehow managed to tighten around Skeppy, the bearer letting out a sniff of distaste. "Greetings, your highness," Ant said, sounding entirely displeased, as though speaking with Bad hurt him, which Ant had- he'd warned Skeppy about it, kind of, a little, but this was- "I'm glad you could make it."

Bad released a warm laugh, seeming to entirely miss Ant's latent aggression. "It's my honor, Lord Frost.  To see you presented into your proper family and to witness your engagement-" He shot Skeppy a wink. "I cannot speak highly enough as to the quality of your future groom."

"He's mine," Ant shot back entirely, radiating anger. "Mine-mine, not yours." 

"Of course not," Bad agreed, holding his hands up in surrender. "I meant no offense, my lord." 

"I will have his babies," Ant continued- knocking Skeppy just- right off his- yeah, he knew his face was burning now, but he also didn't think anyone would hold that against him. "His, not yours."

"I would never dare impose upon you in such a way," Bad said smoothly, offering Ant a respectful bow. "I'm sorry if I ever implied otherwise." 

Ant's cheeks puffed out with a look of annoyance that Skeppy knew for a fact was adorable, which just- didn't help with all the other conflicting emotions. "This one did," Ant grumbled, gesturing towards the female protector. "Says my feelings are orchestrated, but I don't want you, I want him." 

"And you will have him," Bad said, tipping his head in concession before his gaze slid back towards the protector. "Though perhaps it would be wise not to spread such unfounded rumors, countess." 

The protector stiffened. "You think this display means anything?" 

"I think being intentionally inflammatory towards a bearer is remarkably distasteful," Bad countered.

The protector made a face. "Despite how enraptured the vast majority may seem with the second sex as a whole, I'm part of the enlightened few that understand that Male bearers are hardly comparable to their female counterparts."

"By that logic, I assume you feel the same regarding female protectors?" Bad countered, sounding just- just so smug. 

The countess froze, her expression hardening. "I see you've gained a fondness for wordplay from that other Nether noble house."

"So you're against the Nether too?" Skeppy said, feeling dazed.  Upon earning her harsh look, he shrugged. "Just trying to get a feel for your outlook, countess – second sexist, sexist, classist, anti-Nether – it seems that the list of individuals you do like could be counted on one hand with fingers to spare."

"You should go away," Ant advised, his words tinged with a growl. "We have humored you long enough." 

The countess bared her teeth, but dipped into a curtsy nonetheless, as shallow as she could make it while still being respectful. "Of course, my lord."

"That goes for you too," Ant added, and it took Skeppy a moment to realize he was talking to Bad. "I don't- just go away, this one is mine now."

"Of course, my lord," Bad echoed, shifting into the slightest bow.  

Skeppy's heart twinged in his chest- this wasn't right, but if it was what Bad needed- Ant could do it, so Skeppy could try too.

So Skeppy turned his gaze onto Ant, trying to capture his adoration from earlier and hating how easily it came. "Thanks for the visit, your highness," Skeppy said, allowing his tone to be distracted as he took in Ant's cute expression of annoyance.

He turned to face Ant fully, and was surprised when the cat hybrid continued to cling to him, making a show of scenting his shoulders once more.

"I don't know if leaving will make it look like I'm trying too hard or not," Ant admitted. "On one hand, I want to get out of here, but on the other, I want to enjoy this party, if only to spite that countess." 

"We could dance again?" Skeppy offered. "And then you could um- sit in my lap, hold court while enforcing your position as my fiancé, before you just can't take it anymore and have to drag me back to your nest."

Ant released a low purr that Skeppy's brain interpreted as pleasure.  "I think I'm amenable to that plan."

Because it was strategic, that was all, not because- right.

All this bearer scent was really going to Skeppy's brain. 

The dance went by in a haze.  Skeppy was fairly certain he didn’t trip all over Ant or anything.  Everything seemed to go well, and Ant was pleased, or at least released a pleased purr before he dragged Skeppy over towards the couch Marquess Manifold had set up as a strategic retreat earlier.  It wasn’t entirely proper for an engaged couple to cuddle so shamelessly at their own party, but a certain leeway was granted for bearers, and they’d decided early on that this would only reinforce Ant’s ‘new’ second sex to the world at large.  Of course, there would be those that would see through this, who would assume that they were overcompensating, but there was little Skeppy could do about them.  The fact that he had managed to navigate that exchange with Bad was triumph enough for him – his heart twisting in his chest, horribly conflicted with feelings of woe and elation from Ant’s blatant affection – even if it was only a show.  A production.

But he had to buy into it too.  If he didn’t, no one else would, and then this would all be for naught.

“Are you doing okay?” Ant asked, fussing over Skeppy as he made a point to feed the protector small, carefully thought out appetizers from a plate that had been delivered to them, all of which hosted a selection of Ant’s favorite foods and it was- just so cute that most of them featured fish or cream, for all that Ant got wonderfully annoyed if anyone poked fun at those facts. “That wasn’t fun.”

It took Skeppy a moment to realize that Ant’s hands were shaking, and he- as much as that had affected him, it had been Ant who had done all the hard work, who’d done the heavy lifting in terms of pushing Bad away when Bad was one of his claimed peacekeepers.  Ant had fought his instincts just to help Bad.

And here Skeppy was, complaining when he’d done practically nothing.

It was enough to kick him into gear.

He shifted, turning so he could press their foreheads together in a light nuzzle, capturing Ant’s wrist in a gentle, reassuring bid of support before he helped the cat hybrid guide one of those mini fish cakes into his mouth.

“It wasn’t,” Skeppy agreed in a low rumble. “But you handled that so, so well.”

“I-” He could see the flush spill across the bridge of Ant’s nose, and Skeppy used that moment of hesitation to offer Ant a treat of his own, feeding the bearer off of one of the little appetizer forks they had both bonded over as delightfully absurd in their new etiquette classes. “Um.” Ant’s flush darkened as he chewed the treat. “This is helping.  Not that-”

“I want to help,” Skeppy reminded him before Ant could say something like ‘you don’t have to do it’, because as torn as Skeppy might feel about all this, he couldn’t forget Ant’s own guilt.  Because Ant was decent, he would worry, had thought he was going to trap Skeppy-

His bearer was distressed and Skeppy needed to fix that.  Needed to raise Ant up while he fought this difficult battle.  Of course he couldn’t repress all of his own emotions on the situation – that wasn’t healthy in the long run – but for now, this was the least he could do.  It would help sell their story too, even if that wasn’t the main motivation.  Ant should be Skeppy’s entire world now.  If he wasn’t, there would be questions of his own flighty nature.  Not that he or Techno particularly cared about his reputation.  Well, Techno might, but that was because he was a good papa.

“Skeppy,” Ant whined, lashes fluttering against his cheek as Skeppy fed him another treat. “Don’t- don’t overdo it.”

“What do you need?” Skeppy asked, allowing a serious edge to drip into his tone. “I don’t want to make things harder on you.”

“You’re not.” Ant’s reply was immediate enough that Skeppy didn’t doubt it, was flustered enough that he knew it must be honest. “This isn’t- I’m just- I’m not used to it.”

Not used to it from Skeppy, or not used to it at all?

The golem hybrid supposed that both could easily apply in this instance.

“I’m happy to get you used to it,” Skeppy informed him cheerfully, daring to lean forward and scent Ant’s shoulder.  The bearer tensed before releasing a low, pleased purr that went straight to Skeppy’s instincts. “Look, you just did something very difficult – I couldn’t- I froze, and this isn’t my way of overcompensating, but I want to help too, okay?  You’re amazing, I’m so proud of you-”

“Don’t-” Ant whined. “Don’t praise me for that.”

Skeppy lowered his voice, leaning close enough to know for certain that it would not carry. “It’s the praise I’m sure that Bad would want you to have,” he murmured. “If we’re doing this for him, let me share his kindness too.”

“You sap,” Ant complained, and if Skeppy didn’t know better, he would think the bearer looked entirely smitten with his cheeks painted in such a pleasant flush, his gaze just a bit shiny from what could be perceived as being overwhelmed with the positive emotions inspired by this situation.

“Your sap,” Skeppy rumbled, embolden by this response. “Yours forever and ever.”

Ant breathed in sharp, his pupils dilating somewhat, and Skeppy felt his own instincts go hazy with pride at the response he’d earned. Ant had liked that; Ant had liked that a lot.

“Mine,” Ant whispered, hand curling into the fabric of Skeppy’s tunic. “Mine-mine-mine.”

“Yours-yours-yours,” Skeppy agreed, allowing his hand to curl around Ant’s waist. 

The air was electric, Ant’s scent thick in his nose-

“Heyo,” a familiar, comforting bass rumbled, and Skeppy jerked back to find Techno standing over them, a knowing Quackity hanging on his arm. “Glad you two uh- rallied, but please remember that you are still in public.”

“Oh, sweet Prime,” Ant complained as though despairing for both himself and the world. “How much longer do we have to stay?”

“Perhaps long enough to get through cake and presents,” Techno said without a hint of mercy. “You can hit the sheets after this.”

“Dad,” Skeppy whined, but he only earned a ruthless cackle in response.

At least Quackity was kind enough to give Techno a reproving look. “Like you’ll be any better at the big wedding.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Techno said, generous enough to look sheepish in response.

“Come on,” Skeppy said, giving Ant’s arm a few comforting pats.  As embarrassed as he was by his father’s timely interjection, he could admit that he was grateful for it.  Skeppy didn’t want to be the reason they had to cut off this shindig early after all.  It might be annoying, but it was an annoyance that was expected from every noble, and as such they would simply have to suffer through it. “Presents will be more exhausting than cake.”

“That’s true,” Ant agreed, taking in a shaky breath as though fighting to steady himself.  Which just- right, Skeppy’s instincts couldn’t read into that right now. “At least we can dip out after we cut the cake.”

“I don’t think anyone would blame you,” Techno offered cheerfully. “You guys good?”

“As we’ll ever be,” Skeppy said with a cheer he didn’t entirely feel, but Ant released an agreeing rumble regardless.

They both had weaknesses, he realized.  They’d have to fight to compensate for each other, but it was a comfort to know that he wasn’t the only one struggling, even if it was a minor affront to his Protector nature.  It would be okay.  They would be okay.

For Bad, he would make it so.

Chapter Text

"Pup," Bad murmured, didn't sigh because he couldn't afford to show any ounce of exhaustion, anything other than utterly serene and unaffected grace in the wake of confrontation. "You really should stop hanging around me."

Sapnap, from where he was stubbornly hovering by Bad's side, rolled his eyes, making no effort to restrain it to a subtle notion.  On the other side of the blaze hybrid, Karl had his arm hooked through the crook of Sapnap's elbow, watching the exchange with the kind of neutrality that made it seem as though he were accustomed to restraining his emotions.

Of course Bad was grateful that his brother had managed to find a new partner, one who was unencumbered with the complications of noblehood.  That Karl was of a healthy, positive, and steadfast disposition only added to his charm, and the fact that he had gotten a glimpse of the chaos that encapsulated their lives and hadn't run screaming – had in fact wanted to stay, was honored to stay – spoke of both his dedication to Sapnap and the depth of his character.  Truly, Bad could hope for no one better for his brother.  It made what Bad himself needed to do easier to pursue, but it was difficult whenever Sapnap insisted on being stubborn.

He wasn't the same cute pup that didn't know any better, who had to rely on Bad for everything.  He was an adult now - had gone to war and survived - Bad had no right to critique or control his decisions. 

He just wished that Sapnap would understand. 

His little brother shot Bad a glare, oblivious to his dilemma. "And let you become a total pariah?  No thanks." 

"I'm not a total pariah," Bad corrected, pulse speeding just a bit as he tried to hold onto his composure.  Becoming an outcast was, of course, the goal of all this, it was why he had to put his pack through such strife in the first place, but he couldn't explicitly say or acknowledge or actively become aware that it was happening, actively encourage it, because if he did- he'd only gotten this far through luck, he was certain, and he wasn't going to test it.  He needed to keep people safe.

He wasn't sure why he'd thought that this was over.  Worse than that, he was almost certain that were he presented the same choices all over again, he wouldn't have picked any differently.  Bad had done the best he knew how left alone – a child looking after a baby.  It hadn't been fair, but that was the way of the Nether. 

"Not yet," Sapnap grumbled, his expression pinching into one of clear displeasure that only really made him look cute.  Normally Bad cherished such looks, though this time he satisfied himself with Karl's somewhat dreamy eyes as the bunny hybrid did his best to commit the look to memory. "But if things keep up this way..."

"I'll be fine," Bad dismissed with a breezy wave of his hand, heart clenching in his chest as nerves danced in his stomach.  He tried to catch Karl's eye, knowing that if either of these two would ever understand, it would likely be the other peacekeeper, who had the advantage of a fresh, outside perspective without years of history coloring his evaluation. 

That's the goal, Bad wished he could say, and the brunette held Bad's eyes carefully, his brows furrowing with a look of concentration.

Hopefully, that would be enough. 

Sapnap released an exasperated sound and Bad was forced to shift his focus, knowing that if he didn't give Sapnap his full attention, his little brother would find a way to acquire it, one way or another. "You're not.  None of this is fine.  I can't believe that Wilbur and Ant- Ant would- that they'd-"

"Sappy," Bad began, trying to keep his voice low, aching to wrap an arm around his brother's shoulders but knowing better than to display any sort of positive connection between them.  As it was, he would spin Sapnap's aggravation as something he himself prompted – it was the best possible outcome. 

"You want this to happen for a reason," Sapnap said suddenly, making Bad's breath catch. "Why?" 

Sapnap – he was so loyal, so loving, so dedicated, but lacked the subtlety to ever be a real politician in the empire, and his approach was as blunt as bull charging through an antique shop and half as graceful. 

Bad didn't want to lie to his brother, but that was something he'd made peace with decades ago.  As such, it didn't hurt to ease into a facade of alarmed shock, even though it really should.

"I'm not sure what you mean, your highness," Bad said, projecting his voice in a way he previously hadn't, allowing it to carry past their secluded corner of the ballroom.  The use of Sapnap's title rather than his name would be enough to enforce some social distance between them, and the nobles that had been shamelessly lingering nearby would snatch up the gossip with greedy, desperate hands. "I would never hope to purposefully displease the royal pack's bearers.  I'm not entirely sure what I have done to earn their displeasure, but I will work tirelessly to correct my shortcomings."

Lies, lies, all lies, but there was a major facet to being a noble that revolved entirely around theatrics in a manner that most of the upper class had either mastered or were utterly oblivious to, entirely unaware that it existed.  Sapnap was in the latter category, though he was slowly beginning to understand the former if his furrowed brows were any indication. 

Pretend, Bad tried to urge in his mind. Pretend that you are angry on their behalf.  Pretend that you are mad at me, not for me.

He had no idea what was at stake, and Bad could not tell him.  Could not tell anyone.  He'd thought he had already paid the ultimate price – paid back all interest that could even be conceived, but he was wrong.  There were aspects of his contract that prohibited the more extreme solutions to his conundrum, so he could only manipulate what loopholes were available.  Fortunately, Bad had always been the squirrely sort. 

It was what had kept him alive for this long, after all.  When his parents had died, when it had become obvious that his uncle wasn't coming back, he'd known that his childhood was over.  He had to be perfectly aware of his situation, he couldn't afford anything less, because wishing and hoping and staying trapped in disbelief wasn't going to get Sapnap fed.  Bad's brotherly instincts had overcome any other feelings he'd experienced until he'd surrendered to a state of absolute practicality.  His uncle had already taught him the importance of rationing, so Bad had done that.  He'd been fortunate enough to be a terribly curious soul, disregarding boundaries so he could dig through his pack elders' physical effects to find their lists, to find their plans and outlines and schedules.  When they attended to which autofarm, how to do minor repairs, how to restock, how to build, how to make the medicines related to their family line.  Bad had taught himself these things to impress them when they returned, and when it became obvious that they would not, he put that knowledge to the test, not allowing his fear to drag him down because if he hesitated for a moment, they would starve. 

It had been so hard, so lonely.  Bad had all these books about the Overworld and its culture, how it functioned – he understood the theory, but in practice his world was limited to one small blaze pup that needed the entirety of his attention. 

It had been so hard.  So hard.  He'd only been ten and he knew- knew that his uncle would have come back if he could have, which meant he'd likely been murdered, had an accident or something, Bad didn't know.  Even after they'd gotten to the Overworld and Bad had enough extra funds to higher investigators, they still had found no traces of his uncle.  It was as though he had vanished into thin air, but that was the risk one ran when using unsanctioned Nether Portals.  They weren't maintained and could have generated literally anywhere in the Overworld, including some place entirely uninhabitable.  He could have gotten trapped, or deposited in lava-

Bad liked to think that their uncle was still alive somewhere out there, though he could never know for certain.  He would simply take comfort in his ignorance even if it was far, far more likely that he had died in some remote section of the empire, alone and scared. 

But Bad couldn't help him.  At this point, he could barely even help himself.

Sapnap's brows furrowed further, a clear aggravation painting his features which was perfect, it was perfect because he was playing right into Bad's narrative for all that he didn't want to. "You- you are so frustrating right now," Sapnap snapped, giving his head an aggressive shake as though fighting to clear it. 

"I genuinely don't know what you mean," Bad lied while plying as much honesty into his tone as possible. "If there's anything I can do-"

"Bad-" Sapnap interrupted, his flush darkening.

"Perhaps you should go," Karl cut in, his tone cool. 

It was the perfect, natural interjection.  Perhaps Karl simply understood things better as a crafter of words himself.  He understood the natural course a narrative should take.  He could read things that Sapnap couldn't and hopefully protect the blaze hybrid's feelings, as Bad had a strong inclination that things were only going to get worse from here.  Already, he could hear the ripples of displeasure stir up around them, hungry gossipmongers launching themselves upon the veritable feast that Bad had offered them. 

"Of course," Bad said, sure to keep his tone light and kind – so very kind – before offering the slightest nod of respect.  That he offered anything at all to anyone as crown prince was entirely unnecessary.  Technically, doing so to anyone below him in rank would only diminish his authority, but it could be excused as Nether trash refugee ignorance.  What could Bad know, after all, about monarchies and ancient civilizations?  It wasn't as though the Nether had its own established societies stretching back for generations, forgotten to the sands of time, brushed away to the outskirts of history after their mysterious collapse. 

It must have happened so, so recently in the grand scheme of things – perhaps fifty to a hundred years ago.  It was the only theory Bad could come to after dwelling on the matter for any amount of time.  That the autofarms still functioned- their city- Bad had been young when it was closed off, not from the Nether at large, but the- there had been tunnels and more people, he'd thought-

But that was likely just the hopeful dreams of an abandoned pup.  The city had been nearly empty in the end with only Bad and Sapnap to occupy it, and when they left, there was not but ghosts to keep it company. 

It was simply the way of things.

Bad moved along, adopting a smile that was tinged with minor sorrow at having been chewed out by his brother, trying to appear contrite while doing his best to valiantly hide it.  There was clearly something wrong with him, something off for his own brother to sneer at him in such a way, for not one, but two bearers to publically ignore him.  There was something clearly off there, and they could not help but wonder what it might possibly be. 

"Perhaps it isn't a show after all," he heard drift past his ear as he accepted a glass of champagne from a nearby server. "I thought for certain this was a long play, but Lord Ant sincerely did not wish to be near him." 

"Things are looking up now, just you wait," a rough voice grunted back, one of the families that had been actively against nominating yet another Nether refugee into the second highest position in the empire.  Wilbur had already dealt with those waves of discontent years ago and been granted some level of forgiveness for his type shift, but the opposing forces had not been cowed so much as simmering in displeasure and more than willing to lash out with such malice the moment a suitable target appeared.  Bad hadn't told Sapnap about it, hadn't told Skeppy either, not when he'd already suffered a political attack.

(And how much of that was because of Bad.  He'd thought- his contractor hadn't contacted him until recently, but had they simply been lying in wait for the most profitable moment?)

Common Overworld hybrid types held little fondness for the more exaggerated defensive traits of Nether hybrids.  They made up stories about exaggerated aggression and killer instinct to justify their unease, as though ashamed to admit that they simply struggled to handle that which was new.  That which did not look like them.  As though they weren't all hybrids at the end of the day.  There was some internalized hybridism there, Bad knew, as most common Overworld hybrids tended to have subdued enough traits that they could believably pass for human if they so desired, but that was rarely the case for Nether hybrids.  Jack and Wilbur had the most restrained traits that Bad knew, and that was mostly on the basis of them being bearers – something to allow them to come across as unpresented pups at a distance to ensure future survival.  Had Jack been allowed to properly manifest his flames, Bad had no doubt that he would have been a thing of beauty, his light undeniable for all to see.  

It was strange to think that even though hybrids had manifested into existence at least a thousand years ago, they were still living in a world predominantly warped by human perception – the previous majority.  How long would it take them to escape such chains, if in fact they ever managed such a feat at all?

It was ultimately irrelevant to Bad's current plight, but as he had increasingly more time alone nowadays, he had to keep himself entertained somehow.  One could only wallow in pity for so long.

He needed to focus.  His plan was going well, after all.  Though labeling it as a plan was entirely too generous.  He couldn't come up with anything too concrete or he would be caught, so he could only hope that this thrown together whim that he couldn't dwell on too seriously for fear of discovery would continue to succeed.  Ant and Wilbur had played their parts wonderfully, even Karl had been a delightful aid, for all that he didn't understand.  Skeppy could grasp the immensity of the situation as he had seen Bad at his most fragile (and Prime, was he fortunate to have not been caught then, to have gotten the words out before he could really think about them, and Prime was he lucky that his partner had listened, had trusted Bad and taken him at his word even though he clearly did not understand), but for everyone else, it must be terribly confusing.  He had a feeling that Wilbur was digging into things – it would be impossible to avoid when bringing the piglin hybrid into things.  Bad didn't regret asking for his help – Wilbur's position as a Nether bearer made him a great source of comfort for Bad – but the brunette had also been out of the Nether for long enough that it was unlikely he would ever know the full reach of Bad's circumstances.  

Bad wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.  It was likely for the best, in the end.  He would hate to bring Wilbur down with him in the instance that Bad didn't satisfy the terms of his contract. 

He took a slow sip of his champagne, pondering his next move.  The fact that he was not continuously being bombarded with company was a clear indication of how quickly his reputation was dropping.  He would need to make a show of fighting for it, of course – if he simply took things sitting down, it wouldn't be believable, for all that it was clear that the nobles preferred it as such.  Yes, they had once had a Nether hybrid in the crown prince position, but Wilbur appeared far less monstrous than Bad was.  Wilbur was a piglin hybrid, while Bad was-

Well, even his name was a clear enough indication of his power.  It was an old Nether Demon tradition to have the eldest child named after a facet of personality.  Bad's mother had gifted him 'Badden' to get the worst of his luck out early, so he could bear his misfortune entirely in his name while allowing the rest of his life to have a more positive outlook.  It was simple superstition of course, clearly things hadn't worked out that way, and he'd taken to pretending his name was an acronym to keep the pitying looks at bay.  If anything, the name had been a hindrance.  He would have changed it upon migrating, had it not been so intrinsically buried in his contract. 

It was the axe that lingered over his head.  He'd thought he'd taken it down once, lowered it and escaped its blade, only to realize that he'd only ever been chained more firmly under its waiting embrace.

Even now, he could feel a burning heat flare on the back of his neck, a familiar sensation that indicated that he was being watched by eyes that-

He needed to get away.

He could not move as quickly as he liked, his pace needing to be smooth, unhurried.  He paused to make small talk with those that did not so much as wish to glance upon him (even those that his pack elders had warmed up to him once upon a time, and perhaps that would have hurt were Bad a less practical sort, but as it was, he was far too old to indulge in such useless emotions), made a production of trying to raise his social esteem, all while the heat on his neck grew in intensity. 

By the time he made it into one of the private lounges, Bad thought he might collapse from the weight of it.  He stumbled, not bothering to lock the door behind him as he focused his efforts on remaining upright, bracing his hands against the closest vanity and taking in deep, desperate gasps of breath.  He knew what was going on, was past the point of pretending it wouldn't happen- he'd been lucky enough to get this far-

Bad's head met the polished wood of the vanity top with a furious slam, a flash of light rippling over the top of the antique indicative of concentrated barrier spell to suppress any potential damage – to hide all evidence of the exchange.  There was a burst of pain against Bad's temple, his head turned at the last minute as he was properly pinned by the neck against the wood, the force unyielding for all that he made no effort to fight back against it.

It would seem that his contractor was angry.

He felt the warm breath brush against his ear and made no effort to glance at his attacker's visage, knowing full well that to do such things would only earn him more trouble.

"What," the voice began in an irritated hiss, displeasure ringing so fiercely that it took almost everything Bad had to suppress the shiver down his spine. "-do you think you're doing?" 

"N-Networking," Bad managed to gasp out, the grip on his neck just loose enough to allow him to speak, though not enough to permit yelling.  

As though he would ever attempt such a thing.

"For um- damage control," Bad continued, fighting to keep his hands relaxed.  If he dug gouges into the vanity with his claws, he knew the Manifolds would not hold it against him, but his contractor would. "I can- I'll fix-"

"And you've done such a marvelous job of fixing things now, haven't you?" his attacker hissed, the words dripping like poison - slow and nauseating. "I bet you're thrilled by all this."

"I'm not," Bad gasped, trying to allow some of the despair he'd been keeping at bay to leak into his tone, grant him some credibility. "My packmates are turning on me, and Skeppy- he didn't want to go-"

"That, I believe," his contractor mused. "He was always helplessly besotted with you, though Prime knows why."

Bad didn't know either, he'd never understood, but Skeppy hadn't understood Bad's own dedication either.  It had been one of the things that had brought them together, at least, he thought it had.

"But he would do his duty to a bearer- and hey, it doesn't seem like he's that upset with the arrangement now," the attacker chuckled. "But now you have a problem."

"Ant-" Bad began. "Lord Frost- he didn't want me." 

"Oh? He didn't?" the contractor mused. "I saw that little display – thought you were friends, though."

"We were," Bad said. "But he- he's posses- I think he's just um- overcompensating, since Skeppy was mine." 

"You all are such idiots, fighting over a diamond golem, of all things.  They're not that special," his contractor complained, an edge of petulance in his tone.

He always got so weird about special hybrids.  Bad never understood why. Or, he did, but to think that the attacker was jealous was just- considering his power, was so hysterically juvenile that Bad could not afford to linger on the thought for fear of breaking down irreparably at the absurdity of it all.

"And you can't rush in, making a big show trying to win him over, of course you have to respect his space," his contractor continued with an aggravated hiss. "Bearers.  Irritating, the lot of them."

Really, it seemed as though he simply hated anyone considered special from a hybrid societal standpoint – as though they had been granted such consideration undeservedly. 

As though he were not the very same.  At least, Bad suspected as much if he came out like this.  Not that he actually knew that much about his contractor. 

"So you have to step back with grace- fine, that's the only thing that doesn't make you look like an asshole, but..." the pressure on Bad's neck intensified, closing off the already scant pathway for air, something he thought could get no smaller. "It doesn't seem like you're fighting this all that hard.  You're not trying to get out of your contract, are you?" 

"I would- never- dishonor my pack in- uh- such a way," Bad gasped out, the words coming with great effort, strangled from his throat. 

His contractor wouldn't make it easy on him, not at this point, not when he was this angry. 

"Sure, but you're not going to complain about this either," his contractor sighed.  There was a flash of movement in Bad's peripherals, but he dare not track it, dare not look, which was perhaps why his attacker made it such a slow movement, drawing out Bad's anxiety until it was terrible taunt at the first graze of claw against his cheek. "What is it, Badikins?  Are you still mad about what I asked you to do way back when?  It was a simple favor, you know, and you thrived so much afterwards."

Bad's chest went tight as his mind strayed towards territory he had forced himself to repress years ago, willed himself to forget so that it could never see the light of day, knowing that some poisons had to stay buried deep in a safe so none could ever be threatened with exposure. 

"And your little Sapnap – he's doing so well nowadays, isn't he?" The claw continued to trail downwards, dipping beneath Bad's high collar to graze against his neck. "Found a new love, found support – it would be such a shame if something happened to dear little Karl, wouldn't it?" 

Somehow, Bad found it in him to tense further, muscles constricted enough to mimic stone. "Karl-"

"Is just a poor, innocent bystander caught up in a bigger picture," his contractor drawled. "I've done such good things for you, haven't I, Bad?  I got you out of the Nether, I got you noticed by Duchess Wastaken.  I got your brother a safe guard position within the castle where he wouldn't be sent off on constant monster extermination missions – disappearing from your view for months at a time.  I positioned him so well, and you thought-" his contractor released a low, ruthless laugh. "You really thought that you were named crown prince by chance?  That was me too!  I did it, I did so much for you, and all I'm asking is for an itty-bitty favor." 

For Bad to become his puppet emperor, to continue to dance on his contractor's strings until the day that he died, only this time it wouldn't be Bad's sanity at stake, but an entire nation of citizens. 

Bad could doom them all if he didn't play this right, and the game had been rigged from the very start. 

"Become emperor," his contractor hissed, hot breath burning against Bad's ear. "Do me a few favors here and there, but you can't even handle being prince.  Do I have to do everything for you?" 

"I'm trying," Bad gasped out when his contractor loosened the grip on Bad's neck ever so slightly. "But I'm a doctor-"

"You were born for greatness and you know it," his contractor snarled. "You have old Nether royalty flowing in your veins – why do you think we were able to form a contract in the first place?"

Bad didn't know, but not for the first time, he wished that it never could have been done.  Perhaps it would have been better for him and Sappy to waste away in their abandoned castle.  If it had just been Bad, maybe he would have.

His attacker released a noise of frustration, the shifting sound indicating that he was glaring off to the side now. "I have to do everything," he complained. "Be fortunate that the bounds of our contract restrains me from delving into your mind, otherwise I would manifest a better personality for you." His voice dropped, and Bad had a feeling that the next statement was meant for the attacker's ears alone. "Curse my dwindling power.  Waiting this long only to waste it on you-" He made another noise of disgust. 

The thing was, Bad's contractor was powerful, but not in an all-encompassing way.  He might have extreme control over Bad himself, but there were plenty of things outside the realm of his control, and it was those things that Bad needed to exploit. 

"We have to do something," the contractor hissed. "I have to do something, and I think I know just what-"

The grip on Bad's neck vanished as soon as his attacker's words abruptly cut off, the presence behind him gone as though it had never been there at all.  It was the only warning he had to the door being thrown open, and he managed to push himself upright in time to see a wild-eyed Foolish clutching onto his trident, chest heaving and eyes glowing with a faint magic that soothed Bad's very soul.  The parts that it could reach, at least.

"Your majesty," that was Duke Wastaken that lingered behind the shortest consort, concern clear in his tone. "You can't-"

"There was magic," Foolish said, undeterred as he glanced around the room, his posture not so much as loosening an inch. "You felt it too." 

"There was... something," the duke allowed before he strolled past Foolish, turning his attention onto Bad. "Did something happen, your highness?"

The title burned like acid in Bad's throat, but perhaps that was just the mild strangulation. "Sorry," he rasped out, wincing at how craggily his tone was. "Think I um- activated some of my Nether stuff while I was- uh- resting."

It was a weak excuse, and Bad was grateful for the duke's mask that hid what was likely an expression of incredulity.  At least Foolish was-

Right there, suddenly next to Bad, staring at his face with the utmost intensity. "You're bleeding."

"Oh?" Bad raised his hand against his cheek, blinking when he realized that his contractor must have scratched him during their conversation.  It ran down his jaw, towards his neck – knowing his attacker, it would likely scar.  They were fond of things that couldn't be healed by Bad's own efforts. "I tripped on my way in." 

"And accidentally activated your magic," Foolish deadpanned, still staring at his face. "You're bruising."

"What?" Bad didn't dare look in a mirror, for to do so would be almost an admittance in itself. 

"Most couldn't see it, but my eyes can," Foolish said, glaring at the other side of Bad's face.

Duke Wastaken cleared his throat. "I can see it too."

Wonderful.  Great, the two individuals who could both sense magic and had enhanced eyes that could see what Bad very much preferred they wouldn't.

"Who attacked you?" Foolish asked, gripping his trident more firmly. "Names, please.”

"No one," Bad said, taking comfort in the fact that if they tested him, his words would only show as true.  Under the bounds of his contract, anything his contractor did to him couldn't be construed as assault.  It was simply... motivation. "I tripped." 

There was a long beat of silence, likely an opportunity for Bad to come clean, but he couldn't do that, was prohibited from such things.  He could only maintain the stupid, soft smile he had perfected way back when to convince Sapnap that everything was okay.

"Okay," Foolish said finally, and while Duke Wastaken didn't quite twitch, there was a subtle shift that indicated that he was startled. "Alright, but I am concerned with your magic flare up," he declared, a determined glint setting in his brow, something that made Bad's heart clench terribly in his throat. "I think it's only fair that we keep a magic user with you at all times to monitor such things." His smile stretched wide, though it looked far more vicious than mirthful, akin to the shark he had claimed as his family crest. "We wouldn't want you to get hurt, after all." 

"It's a responsible course of action," Duke Wastaken agreed, and Bad knew that it was done. 

He still felt dazed though, as he tried to wrap his brain around what had just- but it surely wouldn't be all the time.  No, they'd get bored eventually, when they saw that everything was fine, and then his contractor would be back and likely twice as mad as before.

But still, it would buy Bad some breathing room, and there wasn't anything he could do to reasonably defy his superior's orders.  

It was totally within the bounds of the contract.

Still- 

Bad cleared his throat. "That seems a bit excessive-"

"It's not," Foolish interrupted, his voice hard. "Drake, would you please escort Bad to the medic Marquess Manifold kept on standby?"

"Of course, your majesty," Drake agreed, dipping into a light bow before coming to Bad's side.

At the very least, he should play along for now.  He had no choice.  And if he had no choice, he had to follow orders – it was all perfectly fair under the rules of the contract.

"You're a doll," Foolish murmured before un-summoning his trident with a flick of his wrist, marching towards the door like a totem on a mission.

Bad cleared his throat. "Your majesty-"

"It's dad to you, sweet pea," Foolish said, and when he threw a glance over his shoulder, it was accompanied by a gentle smile. "And don't you worry about a thing, okay? We're going to take care of you."

They couldn't – not really.  No one could take care of Bad. Skeppy and Ant had probably come the closest, but Bad had been forced to fend for himself for decades now, and he was past the point of mourning it.

Still, there was a chance that the consort's words brought a certain heat to Bad's gaze, though perhaps that was from the minor strangulation.  Overwhelmed, Bad surrendered with as much grace as possible and tried not to dwell on his attacker's fury.  After all, he had accomplished a great deal that evening.

Skeppy and Ant were free of his web.  The lie had been bought.

Now Bad just had to defend it with everything he had.

Chapter Text

“Oh, sweet Prime,” Ant gasped when they finally stumbled into the private hallway that would lead up to the restricted private quarters of Manifold Manor, where he could finally drop his mask of bubbly grace and allow the exhaustion of the situation properly set on his shoulders. “That was hard.  I’m so fucking tired.”

“I’m sorry,” Skeppy said, as though it were in any way, shape, or form his fault. “Do you want me to carry you to your room?”

Ant froze, his body claimed in a full body shiver as his instincts received the offer with an exuberant enthusiasm he struggle to wrestle into place.

Skeppy, who had been watching him carefully with the same attention he’d been using for the entire night (and boy, had that been wreaking havoc on Ant’s everything) smiled, the tiniest, satisfied smirk pulling at his lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I’m too big,” Ant tried to redirect, face flooding with a terrible warmth as he jerked his gaze away, forcing his feet forward.  He’d been yanked into awareness at the crack of dawn that morning so he could be thrust through a series of comprehensive beauty rituals for his hair, fur, claws, and skin.  Despite how relaxing it had been and how comparatively little they’d had to do during the party, Ant felt positively worn out.  He wanted nothing more than to throw himself into Skeppy’s arms and call it a day, but that seemed like a cruel thing to do when he was both taller than Skeppy and his partner – now fiancé – was likely just as tired.

“My dude,” Skeppy began, a reflexive noise of affront in his tone. “I’m short but mighty.  I can carry you no problem, and it would make my instincts feel great.”

Ant wavered and he knew he was done. “You have to let me know if it’s too much-”

“It won’t be!” Skeppy cheered, already swooping Ant into his arms and the cat hybrid wasn’t even sure how he did it, it had- it happened so fast, but it hadn’t hurt, it just- Skeppy, he was there and had gathered Ant close with seemingly no effort, the golem hybrid beaming down at him with a rakish grin and a waggle of his brows before he steadily marched onwards, deeper into the manor.

Ant cleared his throat, allowing his arms to properly loop around Skeppy’s neck. “I’ll at least walk up the stairs on my own-”

“Nope, I’m carrying you up those too,” Skeppy said, sounding pleased. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t risk it if I wasn’t absolutely sure I could get us to the top safely, and uh-” He shot Ant a wink. “I am absolutely sure I can get us to the top safely.”

“Oh.” It was a stupid response, but it was all Ant had as he felt his heart waver in his chest, that stupid, fluttery feeling stirring in his stomach that Skeppy seemed to prompt so very easily. “Um.”

“I know, I know,” Skeppy drawled. “I’m amazing.”

Ant knew that the golem hybrid was joking and he had to bite down on his tongue to keep from agreeing too ardently because Skeppy was amazing, had been amazing, and that was most of Ant’s problem.  This was fake, a show, but Skeppy played his part wonderfully, to the point where the tight leash Ant had on his instincts was suddenly at risk of faltering.  Because he’d restrained himself for so long and now he didn’t have to and he just, he wanted-

“Hey,” Skeppy’s voice was soft as he turned them into a new hall – just as he’d said, he’d had no issues with the stairs, and that had made Ant feel um- very warm. “Are you alright?”

No. “I um-” Ant began, breathless and hating himself for it because he literally hadn’t done anything. “Skeppy, you’ve- you’ve been really great this- the whole party.  You did- you were amazing, and really sold it and just-” The heat in his face intensified, and while he knew this could lead to his free ride back to his bedroom coming to an abrupt halt, Ant knew he had to broach the subject at some point before his instincts took that choice away from him. “My instincts are um- wanting- expecting you to uh- keep- to maintain- and I know that isn’t fair-”

“Ant,” Skeppy interrupted, playful and smug. “Do you want some protector loving?”

It was clearly a joke, just a- but Ant inhaled sharply anyway, a dangerous heat building in his eyes.

And just like that, Skeppy’s suave mask shattered into a million pieces in favor of open concern. “Oh, Ant- I- I was joking, I’m so sorry.  You’re doing a difficult heart to heart here and I thought- but yeah, don’t worry about that, I’m happy to see through what I started.”

And Ant, still reeling from the abrupt shifts and dips of his own emotions, blinked dazedly, not quite understanding Skeppy’s words.

“Like, of course your instincts want- and I’m not just going to cut you off without anything, Prime.  Whatever you want, you can have.  I’m happy to do that.”

“I want…” You to love me. “Um- cuddles and- and-” Come on, Ant, stupid, just get it out. “Could you stay in my nest tonight?”

That time, it was Skeppy that inhaled sharply, though Ant doubted that the golem hybrid even knew that he’d done so. “…yeah,” Skeppy said, faint, but not from displeasure – at least, that was what Ant’s instincts said.  Maybe it was disbelief. “Yeah, we’re family now.  Let’s… let’s just have some quiet cuddle time.”

“Okay,” Ant whispered, and that seemed to seal the deal.

He felt dazed as they finished the walk to his room, Skeppy managing him just as effortlessly as promised, not so much as breaking a sweat as he carried Ant into what was now his most private, secure space.  He'd held onto his old apartment for longer than he should have since Sam had acquired it for him – expanding it, improving it, securing it- it had been difficult to let go of what had been his safe retreat from the world for so long.  Truth be told, he was fairly certain that his grandfather had a company managing it for now in case Ant changed his mind, but he really couldn't imagine staying in a place that didn't have his pack.  He didn't want to be alone anymore, and now he didn't have to. 

He was a public bearer now.  He was a noble beyond most reproach, and he had a fiancé. 

Holy shit, he had a fiancé. 

Skeppy, focused on his task, thankfully didn't see the expression of overwhelmed conflict on Ant's features as he carried the cat hybrid deeper into the suite, towards his bedroom. 

Ant was going to marry this person, it was a guarantee, and that was both liberating and terrifying.  One of the reasons he'd avoided being a public bearer for so long was to avoid political marriages, and now he was in one, but it was with someone he trusted, someone who agreed to take care of him, who seemed sincere about it.  Given Skeppy's turn of leaf, Ant was fairly certain that Sam would have liked the golem hybrid, would have offered whatever assistance he could to ensure that Skeppy had everything he needed to help look after Ant.  They would have had a protector to protector talk, and Sam would have been painfully earnest, and Skeppy would have been flustered and intimidated probably, but Techno would likely be there too, and-

Sam would have approved of Skeppy, Ant thought.  And maybe it didn't matter if Sam did or didn't – it certainly hadn't mattered to Marquess Manifold, who had been more focused on the politics of things (not out of cruelty, but that had been his go to mindset for the longest time, had been what had offered Josh the most protection and as such, it seemed difficult to let go of) but it was still nice to think about.  He'd done it.  He'd come out and gotten engaged and the sky hadn't fallen.  Now he got to do something as benign as cuddling.  It didn't feel like a fair reward, but life wasn't about fairness.  There wasn't a grand balancing act that dictated what they did and did not deserve – it was all chaos.  If this evening hadn't indicated as much, he wasn't sure what would. 

Ant sighed, turning to bury his face against Skeppy's shoulder.  It prompted the protector to hold him closer. 

"Tired?" Skeppy asked, even though he already knew the answer to that question, even though Ant had already shared it, the protector likely probing for a way to continue the conversation – not needing socialization so much as he must be hit with the desire to check in with the one most importantly placed under his care. 

"Yeah," Ant sighed, enjoying what hints of Skeppy's scent he could get through the golem hybrid's blocker.  Once they were scheduled extended alone time together, Skeppy could forgo it entirely, allowing Ant to collect all the pieces he desired to make his nest the place it should be.  It would be especially necessary for his heat-

Well, no point in thinking about that now.

"How do you want to do this?" Skeppy asked as he shouldered his way into Ant's- was it their room now?  They could still have separate spaces he guessed- actually, that was encouraged among bonded couples – oh, would they bond too?  Probably not. Ugh. 

"Chaise," Ant said, figuring he couldn't be so terribly lazy to demand Skeppy to take him to the washroom.  They would have their own rooms in their future home, wherever that may be, which they should also probably decide at some point.  

"Aye, aye, captain," Skeppy hummed, a pleased rumble reverberating through his chest as he cheerfully followed Ant's orders, seeming content to be bossed around.  Which was- and Josh and Sam had already told him this, but that was a thing that protectors did in fact enjoy from the bearers connected to them, Ant just didn't get it because he was the bearer in reference and he had severe self-worth issues he was still working through with Ponk. 

Skeppy deposited him with the utmost care, automatically shifting down onto his knees next to Ant in a manner that was also supposedly instinctive – an active deferment as Skeppy checked on his status. "What else?" Skeppy asked, and if he were a dog hybrid, Ant could practically picture him wagging his tail. "Do you want some alone time, or...?"

"Would you remove my jewelry?" Ant asked instead of saying no, expecting a sputtered objection, but Skeppy only brightened.

"Heck yeah, I will," Skeppy hummed, then set about doing just that.

Oh, right.  The whole- yeah, golem hybrids actually really liked messing with gems.  That was a whole thing for them. 

That meant that Skeppy would likely be happy to remove Ant's jewelry for him for the rest of his life – would be pleased to do so – which meant Ant wouldn't have to, and wasn't that so great?  It wasn't even anything big, but it was strangely intimate, the care that Skeppy demonstrated as he handled all of Ant's pieces, laying them out on a velvet jewelry board for the servants to put away later. 

He didn't even touch Ant's engagement ring.  Didn't even look at it, seeming to understand that the cat hybrid wouldn't want to be parted from it by any means.

Or maybe Skeppy just hoped he felt that way.  Either way, the protector was right, and Ant was too tired to even think of initiating a conversation on the subject. 

"Are you okay?" Skeppy asked when he finished setting down the last of the pieces. "You seem like you're thinking a lot of big thoughts over there."

"Well..." Ant began as Skeppy crossed back to him, the protector not so much as hesitating before he began to unlace Ant's boots. "I was just- the logistics of how things would be going forward.  I was thinking about that."

"Dude," Skeppy said, eyes going wide as he paused. "That's- that's so smart.  We should definitely do that, get that all figured out."

"Yeah?" Ant asked, and if he was lucky, the hopeful hint in his tone was small enough to remain hidden. 

"Yeah, I think it would make me feel better too," Skeppy allowed, returning his focus to Ant's boots. "We've both been so focused on conquering the party that I didn't really think- but we should." He sat back on his heels, aiming a small grin at Ant. "Probably not tonight though."

"No," Ant agreed with a laugh, and it was- it was a lot easier.  He wasn't sure what he'd been afraid of, that Skeppy wouldn't want to define anything either? That he'd find such a thing a betrayal to Bad?  But he agreed, and looked relieved, so they both- they both benefited. "Thanks."

"Don't gotta thank me, sweetheart," Skeppy said, shooting him a wink. 

Flirt.  Ugh, Skeppy would be the death of him.

It would be a nice way to go though.

“Well?” Skeppy prompted, wagging his brows at Ant in an exaggerated fashion that was entirely unrepentant. “How can I help you next?”

He’d already gotten off Ant’s jewelry, his boots.  They were running out of benign offerings they could safely tread.

More than that though, Ant was running out of ways to keep Skeppy around.

It would be natural for them to break apart.  They’d get cleaned up in their respective washrooms and meet by Ant’s nest, maybe share a snack to make up for all the food they’d missed, Ant’s stomach tied into knots with an anxiety that prevented him from truly enjoying the treats his grandfather had arranged for him.  He knew full well that the party’s menu would be making reappearances in the manor for the next couple of days explicitly for that reason, because they knew Ant so well, and there’d probably be more fish too.  Ant would be well cared for in every way that they could manage.

But he didn’t want Skeppy to leave.

He didn’t want to stay in these clothes for a moment longer, or strip down to their under garments to cuddle in his nest.  He wanted to be clean, and he wanted Skeppy.

But that went far beyond maintaining appearances.

“Um.” Ant drew his feet up under him slowly, curling up on the chaise.  It was such a stupid piece of furniture – he and Josh had spent half an hour belaboring their general uselessness.  They were truly only effective for a handful of situations – or at least, so Ant had thought.  It was only now that he realized how important it might be for the truly rich to have furniture that provided a bounty of horizontal space that was not a bed.

“Aw, come on, Ant,” Skeppy began, releasing a low, pleased rumble. “Don’t get shy on me now.  What do you need?  Shoulder rub?” He wagged his brows again. “Foot rub?”

Damn him and his easy charm.

“I want to- to take a bath,” Ant managed, the words barely coming out as a whisper.

“Of course,” Skeppy said, forever supportive, not hesitating. “I’ll just-”

“I want you to stay,” Ant interrupted, pushing himself forward before he could think of doing anything else.

Skeppy froze, his eyes wide. “Are you sure?” he began, continuing before Ant’s bearer instincts could despair, thinking that Skeppy wasn’t interested. “You don’t have to- to indulge me or anything.  I really was happy doing just- just this.”

“I know,” Ant said, and it was a comfort to realize that he didn’t doubt that. “I just- there was a lot of people and- I just need time with you and I want to be clean.”

“Oh.” Skeppy took a moment to process this. “Okay.  Okay, that’s um- you remember our boundaries talk-”

“Skeppy,” Ant said, despairing, but mostly over how thoughtful the protector was. “I remember, now please carry me to the bathroom.  I- wait, are you-”

“Yeah, I am very down to get naked with you,” Skeppy got out in a rush. “Probably too much so, to be honest.”

Oh, that just-

Yeah, great things for Ant’s instincts.

“Get over here,” Ant found himself demanding, arms thrust out, making grabbing hands towards Skeppy. “Mine-mine-mine.”

“Yours-yours-yours,” Skeppy rushed to agree, and then he was picking Ant up and it was good, it was perfect, this was exactly where he was supposed to be and it was stupid that he had to wait this long, honestly it was a crime, a travesty, and he would let the world know that as soon as he was done burying his face against Skeppy’s scent gland. “Whoa,” Skeppy said, but he was moving, so Ant didn’t hiss at him for dawdling. “Way to make a guy feel great, baby.”

Yes.  Yes, Ant was his baby and sweetheart and darling and it was very good of Skeppy to acknowledge that.

Ant released a purr so that his protector would know just exactly how thrilled he was and his protector laughed, but it was a fond thing – with him and not at him. 

Ant had enough experience to be able to differentiate the two.

All too soon, Ant found himself getting deposited onto yet another chaise lounge – this one even less sensical in its placement, at least that had been his initial theory, though he was all too appreciative of it now.  He allowed himself to recline, stretching back in what he hoped was a tantalizing show, giving his hips a slight wiggle.

It was satisfying to see how enraptured his protector was with the slight movement.

“Yeah,” the golem hybrid breathed. “Let me just- I’ll start the tub, and then- do you want me to strip you?”

Ant wanted that yesterday, but he couldn’t fault his chosen for being thoughtful.  It was why he’d been selected, after all.

He fluttered his lashes. “Please, please, please.”

“Yeah, now you’re polite,” his protector grumbled, but Ant didn’t miss the flush that colored his cheeks as he turned away, starting up Ant’s fancy tub in quick movements.  It was a comfort to know that it had a safety cut off engrained into its design, meaning that neither Ant nor his protector needed to worry about shutting off the multiple streams of warm water, thus making it easier to give in to certain… distractions.

The moment the tub was set in motion, Ant’s protector was upon him, crouching down by the bearer’s feet.

“Where may I start?” the golem hybrid asked, his hand hovering over Ant’s ankle, as though that were a logical starting point, as though he could actually undress Ant from there.

Ant fought the desire to roll his eyes, knowing that he preferred excess communication.  He tugged at his tunic. “Here,” he ordered, reclining back on the chaise.

“Cutie,” his protector huffed, crawling up onto the lounge and straddling Ant’s legs, braced up on his knees. “You’ll be the death of me, I think.”

Ant blew a raspberry at him.  He was so dramatic.

That time, the bearer actually did roll his eyes before tugging at his tunic again.

“Alright, okay, okay,” the protector playfully grumbled, making a show of fake annoyance as he drew closer. “I’m going to strip you now.”

Finally. 

It was as though Ant had been waiting forever.

He cooed, loud and pleased when his protector finally started undoing the clasps of his tunic, gently pushing it open with a strange reverence.  It was silly, it wasn’t as though Ant didn’t have other layers, but his protector attended to each of them with exaggerated care.  The capelet, the belt, the outer tunic, the under tunic, until at last Ant was down to his undershirt.

A thick tension lingered in the air, buffered by the warm steam wafting from the tub.

Ant quirked a brow at his chosen, pressing his chest out in a more prominent offering, quirking his brow as though to say ‘well?’.

It was satisfying to watch his protector’s throat bob in a rough swallow.  He was eager, for Ant, and of course he was, it was Ant.

He was a pretty great catch, if he did say so himself.

“Prime,” his protector breathed, pupils blown wide and fingers trembling as he fumbled for the hem of Ant’s shirt.  He untucked it from his leggings with as much care as his nerves would allow, focus entirely on the pale expanse of skin that was exposed as he rucked the silken fabric upwards.

And Ant- he had seen the knights of the castle training before, had seen them practice after hours when their uniform restrictions were less severe.  He’d seen them shrug off their shirts like it was nothing, skin glistening with sweat, and knew he would never display the same firm ridges of muscle.  He was lean, but soft.

Despite this, his protector stared at the slight curve of his stomach as though it held the secrets of the universe.

“Oh,” his protector murmured as he pushed the shirt up even higher. “May I-”

“Yes,” Ant interrupted with a huff, knowing that his chosen didn’t need to finish the question.  He would only offer things that Ant wanted, after all, and he would like this now, please.

His protector’s eyes fluttered shut as though he were overwhelmed with the possibilities and then he was dipping low, his mouth hovering near Ant’s waist.  Warm breath caressed the rarely addressed territory and-

A whine – low and loud – leaked from Ant’s throat at the rush of slick that spilled from his bearing channel from that alone.

“Sorry, sorry,” his protector panted, peppering Ant’s stomach with kisses – the scent blockers in his underclothes apparently working overtime because the protector didn’t realize why exactly Ant was affected.  Still, it urged him to kiss his way higher, to not doddle as he hooked rough fingers under the hem of Ant’s shirt, pushing it the rest of the way off Ant’s head. “There,” his chosen said, panting as he stared down at Ant. “I got that awful shirt off of-”

He cut off with a sharp inhale when Ant wrapped his arms around his chosen’s neck, the bearer bumping their heads together with a significant look that he hoped got his point across.  Prime, his groin ached so much.  It was mostly his bearing channel that throbbed, likely thrilled at the first hint of attention it had ever received, but his cock was hard too, for all that it was impossible to see through the layers of clothing.

“Protector,” Ant whined, gnawing at his bottom lip. “Please.”

“Okay, baby,” his protector panted, hands curling around Ant’s waist. “Whatever you want.  Whenever-”

Ant couldn’t wait anymore, so he closed the distance between them, noses bumping and mouths fumbling for only a moment before they adjusted, one of the protector’s hands slipping to the base of Ant’s skull to properly cradle him, to angle him-

Prime, it was everything Ant had ever hoped it would be.  He mewled into the protector’s mouth, greedy and demanding, but his partner refused to pick up the pace, to give into Ant’s frenzy.  He kept things nice and infuriatingly slow and at first Ant hated it, but then it just- it was nice to savor the ride, and maybe that was the point.

When his partner pulled back, he only had fondness to aim down at Ant. “That’s it,” he breathed, petting Ant’s side. “Just like that, sweetheart.  We have all night.”

Ant whined, not entirely agreeing with this prospect, but didn’t fight his partner when the golem hybrid pulled away, the protector redirecting his attention towards Ant’s belt.  His hands were steady now, so he could move with deft precision, something for which Ant was deeply grateful.  He moved quickly, tossing the belt away, and then his hands were on the lacings of Ant’s leggings-

A moan – deep and unrepentant – ripped from Ant at the first brush of contact against his cock.  It wasn’t as though he was a stranger to pleasuring himself – in fact, it was the only way he achieved any sort of consistent sexual satisfaction in his life, but there was something about introducing someone else to the experience, someone that he loved, that made it entirely overwhelming.  His protector paused, as though intrigued by the response, then shifted his hand, bypassing the laces entirely so he could cup between Ant’s legs, settling there, just- so easily- and then squeezing.

Ant yowled, his hips rutting up in desperate, needy shifts at the explosion of pleasure such contact brought, but his protector didn’t do anything more impressive than that, simply leaning forward and claiming Ant’s lips in another kiss as he began to undo the lacing one-handed.

“You uh- sure know how to um- make a guy feel good,” the protector panted between kisses, finally jerking the leggings wide enough so that he could peel them down.

It felt like an eternity, rough thumbs digging into the sensitive plane of his inner thighs as his partner pulled the legs downwards.  He didn’t stop and stare at Ant’s now sodden small clothes, the silken shorts now clinging to him, leaving little to the imagination.

“Oh fuck,” his protector breathed, carelessly tossing the leggings to the side as he stared between Ant’s legs, entranced. “Oh Prime, Ant.”

“Protector,” Ant whined, pressing his thighs together, terribly aware of the slight tent where his cock thrust against the material, how the silk clung to his erection, his bearing channel throbbing with new swells of slick that were spilling eagerly onto the lounge beneath him. “Please.”

“I- check in,” his protector panted, shaking his head. “Do you want sexy times and then bath, or sexy times in the bathtub?  Please answer me quickly because my coherence is not great right now.”

“Sexy now,” Ant managed, shuddering against the chaise. “Please-please-please.”

“Yeah, I can fucking-” His protector didn’t hesitate, fumbling to find a careful grip on the waistband of Ant’s smallclothes before he started dragging it down, pulling it off and away in one quick movement.

On reflex, Ant’s legs spread wide, hands braced against his knees to hold them open, exposing himself properly to someone else for the first time in his life.

His partner released a sound as though he were wounded, one hand reflexively falling between his own legs to fondle between them.

Ah, it was a positive response.

Okay, yes, this was good.  He was grateful for his instincts for pushing him forward, then.  He might not have achieved this with nearly so much grace otherwise.

“Hello, hello,” Ant cooed, greeting his protector with a flutter of his lashes as he coaxed his legs as wide as he could manage while still staying comfortable, his tail flicking behind him in a coy tease. “Here please.”

“Y-Yep,” his protector managed to gasp out, his gaze never leaving Ant’s bearing channel, his flush only darkening. “I am- I am going to- Just- remember your colors.”

Ant rolled his eyes once more, though he was ultimately pleased that his chosen held onto his coherence enough to keep hold of the important issues.

“Green,” Ant huffed, wiggling his hips. “Green-green-green-”

“I’ll show you green,” his protector growled, and then he was diving forward, hands curling beneath Ant’s thighs, elbows bracing against the chaise as he stretched himself out, dipping low to-

Ant wailed at the first brush of contact of that warm mouth.  Tongue, there was a- and maybe he’d imagined this once or twice – who among the repressed royal aide pool had not indulged in their fair share of bodice rippers – it wasn’t gross if they were written by bearers, after all, then they were simply accurate – but he’d never thought it would actually- but now his protector was mouthing at Ant’s folds as though they held the key to the universe, as though he wanted to memorize every dip and curve of them, and nothing would get between him and his quest.

“Ah,” Ant moaned – loud and broken, when one of his legs was hooked over the protector’s shoulder, the golem hybrid freeing up one hand so he could-

Ant yowled or wailed or mewled, he couldn’t know- all the protector did was stroke the underside of his cock, the diminutive thing wet and throbbing, happy to twitch at the scant attention, and rocking Ant with a satisfaction so intense and new that he scarcely knew what to do with it.

Against his bearing channel, his protector released a happy rumble, something that seemed to go right to Ant’s core.

He was babbling, he knew that, but he could hardly pay attention to what he was saying.  The words spilled from him in a graceless tumble, things like ‘good’ and ‘green’ and ‘more’ intermixed with howls of pleasure.  In short order, he found both of his feet hooked around the protector’s back, allowing his partner to really um- press into him.  Despite this almost certainly being the first time his protector was with a bearer, the golem hybrid seemed to be a natural, easily working Ant’s cock over as he continued to lick and rumble into his folds.

He pulled back for a moment, enough to allow Ant to breathe, though he only wished to use that pause to hiss and get his protector back in there, but then a rough thumb was pressing against- was urging one of his folds more to the side, exposing more of the sensitive flesh below.  The slick was coming in a steady flow now, so Ant hadn’t thought much of it, but it did seem to be taking him a while to loosen up, so to speak.  It didn’t seem like his partner cared though.  The protector fought for that gap, then dove forward, pressing his-

The tongue was inside. The tongue was inside and it felt so fucking good.  It wasn’t even that deep, it was just-

Ant screamed as his orgasm washed over him, the cat hybrid arching back against the lounger as he felt his cock release small spurts of cum – it was nothing compared to his bearing channel that happily gushed a mess, but his protector was there to happily lick things up, teasing the oversensitive area.  It wasn’t long before Ant was worked up again, his cock finding a way to harden once more.  Was it because of all the denial?  The repression?  His body eagerly seeking out the connections he’d denied it-

He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt a clever heat settle around his cock, and he looked down to find his protector winking at him, looking utterly pleased with himself as he swirled his tongue around Ant’s saft.  Trickster.  Little flirt.  Ant would punish him for it later if he was even the least bit sorry, but of course he wasn’t.

It felt too amazing, too world shattering.  To think he had ever denied himself this- it was absurd.  He was almost angry at himself for not trying to make something happen when he was back in hiding, but would it have ever been nearly as satisfying if anything had occurred with someone other than his chosen?  Maybe, but no- he wasn’t that much of a hussy.  It meant a lot because this was his love who was oh so proud of himself, who hadn’t so much as hinted at attempting to bring his own cock into things, and Ant- he wanted- he wanted that- but it seemed like they had so much time.

His partner pulled off him with a wet pop when Ant was fully hardened once more, something that had the bearer releasing a mournful yowl.

“I know, I know, m’sorry,” the protector murmured, peppering Ant’s lower abdomen with kisses as he slowly worked himself higher. “I’m sorry, baby- just wanted to um- make you feel good in a different way.”

It wasn’t so bad, Ant guessed.  It was nice to get a proper hand on his chosen even if he was wearing far too much clothing, nice to curl his fingers into his protector’s hair, feel warm breath flutter against his pectorals until his partner wandered ever higher, close enough for Ant to snag a kiss.  He did so eagerly, taking in the sweetness and salt of himself on his partner’s lips, but he was more swayed with the heat and presence of his protector, who was truly his-his-his.

“He-llo,” his partner purred when Ant gladly looped his arms around the protector’s shoulders, keeping him close even though he didn’t have to, the protector wanted to be there, was so happy and of course he was, Ant was great.

“Hello,” Ant cooed, shivering as the protector caressed the sensitive dip of Ant’s side.  The hand strayed lower, grazing lazy circles on his hip, then shifted with more intention, tapping his inner thighs before sliding upwards-

Oh.

For a moment, Ant struggled to breathe, air catching in his chest when the protector prodded one of his fingers against Ant’s bearing channel.  He didn’t try for much more than that, simply grazing the precious space, content to tease while he lavished Ant’s throat with kisses.  Which was- that mouth was very close to- and Ant knew if he wanted, he could bite this protector, knew that would be encouraged, allowed, knew that he could offer it in kind, and there was something tantalizing about his chosen going first even if that wasn’t proper.  Just- a demonstration of his affection, that Ant mattered-

A clever thumb reached up to toy with Ant’s dick once more, his protector talented in multi talking and Ant didn’t stand a chance between that and the kisses, between the teasing and the warmth and the heat, this close and he couldn’t help but gush, which seemed to be all his protector needed to urge one long finger into Ant’s heat.

Ant yowled again, arching back once more as he felt himself ruthlessly clamp down on the intrusion.  It was a tight fit, but his protector read him carefully, working his finger back and forth until he was certain he could proceed.  He didn’t seem to care that Ant was delaying things with his greed, seeming incapable of doing anything other than tightening around that digit to get every ounce of satisfaction from it that he could.  He only sounded proud, declaring as much in happy rumbles as he dipped his head lower, pressing kisses against Ant’s chest.

“Fuck yeah, sweetheart, you feel so damn good,” he said it as though he were in awe of this fact, as though it were an amazement he had scarcely thought himself capable of experiencing. “We’re going to take it nice and slow, okay?”

Ant could only moan, losing himself to his partner’s pace.

Prime, was he glad that the years of denial were over.  Now that he’d experienced this satisfaction, he didn’t think he could ever turn back, nor did he want to.  He wanted this every night, every day, every morning.  He wanted his partner, and it seemed that for once he was going to really, truly get his desired.

Once he permitted himself that much, there was really nothing else to do but sit back and enjoy the ride.

Chapter Text

Ant stirred to awareness slowly, sleep shedding from him like a comfortable blanket that bundled playfully around his toes, the sheet beneath it enough to capture body heat to keep him cozy without creating any sort of restriction.  It was the sort of waking he had only dreamed of once upon a time, had only acquired the handful of incidents where he and Josh had fallen asleep on the couch, where he'd napped with the royal pups, but this was better.

Much, much better.

This was contentment down to his bones, a satisfaction that was entirely unrecognizable.  Process of elimination dictated that he must not have ever encountered such a thing before, which seemed like an utter crime.  He couldn't think of anything better and would fight the rest of his life to replicate it, if only to permit the rest he had been so fervently denied. 

"Hey," a voice murmured from somewhere above him, the warm surface beneath his cheeks seeming to vibrate with restrained rumbles. "You sleep okay?"

"Mrgh," was Ant's intelligible reply as he leaned into the hand carding through his curls, gracing his scalp with the occasional scritch that sent subtle shudders down his spine. 

The surface beneath his cheek vibrated more fiercely, and Ant realized that it wasn't a pillow so much as a person – a firm, muscular person whom Ant was shamelessly clinging to, who seemed to encourage this behavior, one of their arms wrapped around his- oh, it was Skeppy. 

That was a nice scent filling Ant's nostrils.

"I'll take that as a yes," Skeppy said, his voice emanating pride. "Well, keep it up if you like.  Not like we have anywhere to be.  We get the next few days off.  We've earned it."

"Mrg," Ant repeated, shifting so he could more thoroughly burrow his face against Skeppy's scent gland.  The protector had yet to take his scent blockers this morning and as such, the smell of brown sugar and sea salt curled pleasantly in Ant's nostrils with a strength he was rarely made privy to.  He shifted, contemplated draping himself entirely atop Skeppy.  It seemed like a reasonable evolution considering that he was halfway there already, but he didn't want to crush his partner.  This was good, was great, even if Ant was unsatisfied with the clothes that separated them.  Light things – delicate and silky and luxurious enough that he never would have dreamed of them back at the academy, hadn't even when he first started at the castle, and then there was Sam just- casually dolling out heaps of presents without thought, trying to give Ant the very best in life.

"This is not an overture," Sam had clarified, seeming to understand that this could be a concern now, but Ant had a feeling that had more to do with Duke Jordan's subtle coaching of the creeper hybrid than Sam having the revelation of his own. "But I sincerely think I won't be able to sleep at night if I don't at least grant you access to the best.  You don't have to use it, but I'll feel better if you have it." 

Ant hadn't touched the stuff at first, of course he hadn't.  He would be indebted to no protector, would be reliant on no one.  He'd denied himself, and Sam had never pushed, and then Ant's damned curiosity had gotten the better of him.  The packages were just- they were so pretty, and he wanted to see what this protector had thought he might like, and-

And of course it had been perfect.  Of course Ant loved it, and resented loving it, and fought himself on using it, and then had eventually given up and used it because if he had this point of contact that was supposedly demanding nothing of him, he may as well exploit it, right?

It had taken Ant a long time to warm up to Sam, but the creeper hybrid had never begrudged him for it, never pushed. 

Skeppy seemed to be the same way and Ant didn't know how to feel about it.  Were all protectors really that noble and Ant had simply had the misfortune of running into the corrupt few, or had he just gotten lucky?

Ugh, these thoughts were too big this early in the day.

Ant grumbled, the leg that he had thrown over Skeppy's own hooked at the ankle to allow Ant to draw himself closer, eliminating the already scant space between them. "What... time is it?"

"Nine," Skeppy hummed, continuing his glorious work of petting Ant's scalp.  Ah, that wasn't too late then.  Ant should get up, but he just- he didn't want to. "Do you want me to call for a tea service?  Coffee?  We can have them send up breakfast later." 

"Too many words," Ant complained, even if he intellectually understood that extended lounging would be futile.  He'd slept for as long as his body would allow before it needed to be attended to; there was no point bemoaning it.  It wasn't like he and Skeppy couldn't nap later.  They had the next few days off, after all.  Special leave as the newly engaged. 

Ant whined, grumpy more for the principle of it than anything.  

"T-Tea service," Ant muttered, batting at Skeppy's side. "And um- pamper bath.  We can have breakfast in the sunroom."

"Sounds like a great start to the day," Skeppy said, a fond rumble edging his words. "I do so know how much you enjoy baths."

Ant chuckled, reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes as he dwelled on the events of yesterday.  That had been a pretty great bath.  Full of-

He tensed, jerking into a sitting position before he could even think about it, mentally reviewing the actions of his very much in-instinct self with a renewed sense of coherent perspective. 

"Oh Prime," Ant breathed, face buried in his hands as he tried to wrap his head around all that.  They'd had sex.  Except they hadn't actually had sex-

"Are you okay?" He could hear Skeppy sitting up beside him, but the protector made no move to close the distance between them. "Do you need me to leave?"

Ant jerked towards him, eyes wide and horribly wet, a strangled ‘no’ on his lips but maybe he should just say yes for Skeppy's sake but he couldn't so he would just stew in anguish uselessly – surely that would be better.

Skeppy was kind enough to wait him out, both hands held up in a placating gesture, eyes wrought with a clear concern, and that just made Ant feel worse.

"I'm- I'm sorry," Ant managed to choke out eventually. "Sorry, I shouldn't have- I shouldn't-"

"What?" Skeppy said when Ant trailed off uselessly, seeming terribly confused. "You didn't do anything wrong?  Even in-instinct, you respected my established boundaries.  My dude, we are good."

Ant released a strangled noise, hating how good Skeppy was being.  How kind.  He didn't know how to articulate it.

"You are upset," Skeppy said somewhat helplessly, falling back on the training of overcommunication Ponk had given them when no other strategy became immediately suitable. "How can I help?"

Stop being too nice, Ant wanted to snarl but he didn't, which wasn't actually helpful.  He had to talk if they wanted to get anywhere, but Ant was swamped by such an intense, pointed embarrassment that it was difficult to push himself forward.  He felt like he was being unreasonable, and yet the lack of logic wasn't making his feelings go away, so he actually would have to offer something if he wanted to be fair to Skeppy.

He scrubbed at his cheeks, grateful that none of his tears had fallen. "Stop- stop acting like that was normal." 

"Are we talking about yesterday?" Skeppy asked, tone strained as he sought clarification, like he was really hoping that Ant wasn't referring to yesterday.

He was worried.  Skeppy was- he was worried that he'd done something wrong.

Ant released a frustrated yowl low under his breath. "You were good," he said, cheeks heating as he admitted this, but they had to establish that much or they might not get anywhere, he might make Skeppy feel bad when the only one who should feel ashamed at this point was Ant. "You were great.  I was- it was me."

"It was you... that wasn't normal," Skeppy surmised, his shoulders slumping with a clear relief before he shifted into a look of consideration, throwing his all into analyzing things so he could assist Ant, because he wanted to, he was biologically compelled – well, he seemed to like Ant too. 

"Right," Ant said, his voice cracking at the admittance.  He sniffed, trying to hold the phlegm and whatever at bay.  Ugh, it seemed that he was only showing Skeppy his worst sides.  Skeppy may have been- might be okay with the marriage, but now that he knew he had a truly broken bearer – he hadn't minded the whole early presentation thing (which still blew Ant's mind, to be honest) – shouldn't he be more angry?

There was a moment of silence.  Eventually, Skeppy broke it by clearing his throat. "Was it just overwhelming to be so deep in your instincts?  Is that the problem?"

"Skeppy," Ant whined, but the protector only looked at him in confusion, seeming to genuinely not understand what the problem was even though he'd been there the whole time.  And granted, in the moment Ant himself hadn't registered it as an issue either, but now he had the good sense to understand how things were supposed to go.

"Sorry-sorry," Skeppy offered in worried Protector, brows furrowed in concern. "I'm sorry, Ant, could you please explain it to me?"

The cat hybrid thought he would surely melt into the floor, he was so afflicted with shame, but Skeppy continued to stare at him, beseeching. 

Ant took in a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of his pulse, and girded himself as best he could. 

"I was... too tight," he ground out, the grasp on his volume a tenuous thing as he couldn't dare allow this to project despite the privacy enhancements of his space but he also had to ensure it was loud enough so he'd only have to say it once because he was fairly certain he'd never be able to repeat it. 

There was a thick moment of silence, and Ant braced himself for a look of realization to flood Skeppy's face, but instead the golem hybrid continued to stare at him confusedly as though awaiting further elaboration.

But there was none.

"My bearing channel," Ant hissed, feeling the heat intensify in his cheeks. "It was- is too tight for- you couldn't even fuck me!" 

Which was frankly horrific in retrospect.  They’d still had fun in the moment, being as instinct-hazy as they were, but overall it just- yeah.

"Um." Skeppy blinked at him, having the audacity to allow a cute flush to color his cheeks. "That really- that's normal though, for a first time.  That was always going to be a possibility, especially if you've never uh- played with yourself down there.  You haven't done that, right?"

Somehow, Ant felt the humiliated heat building in his head intensify. "R-Right," he admitted with a croak. "I just um- played with my-"

He motioned towards his dick, and thankfully Skeppy didn't force him to elaborate.

"Then yeah, that's normal," Skeppy said. "Or at least, I researched that it was a possibility.  Like, I know that we as a society have built up this unrealistic expectation towards bearers' sexual capabilities, but you- you've got pretty unique circumstances, right?  You presented early, you've been on suppressants for the entirety of your presentation which is- that is a long time, Ant – your body was still growing – and you've never explored things um- down there.  So I- maybe you're distressed because you think that you might be tight forever, but I really don't think that's the case, and it really is fair that uh- that was- well, I'm not even going to call it a problem, because we both still had a pretty good time, didn't we?"

Ant blinked, overwhelmed with the onslaught of information he hadn't even considered, overwhelmed by how calmly and thoughtfully Skeppy had delivered it.  That he'd done research, that he'd- that he'd prepared, likely in anticipation of Ant's heat.  He'd wanted to be informed, just in case.

And he wasn't upset at all. 

"I... I felt like I failed you," Ant admitted, tears burning in his eyes. "Like you got cheated."

"Ant, no," Skeppy breathed, and that was enough to push him forward, to have the protector gathering Ant in his arms. "No, not at all.  Look, I get it, there are some awful, knothead protectors out there that have spilled a lot of vile out into the universe, and I'm sorry you ever had to hear any of that stuff.  That's not how I feel though.  I have no expectations.  The only thing I really want is to help you feel good, and I achieved that, and I felt great doing that.  We can talk to Ponk, of course, but I'm really, sincerely not worried about it.  I'm sure you're not the only bearer that's encountered this, and if somehow you are, we know a sorcerer and a family of alchemists who can help figure things out.  Like, George might not be talking to me right now, but I don't doubt that he'd do what he could to help you on the downlow." He tucked Ant's head under his chin, releasing a stream of comforting rumbles. "You're good.  You're so good, Ant, and I'm so happy to be with you."

"Skeppy," Ant whined, this time for an entirely different reason, because Skeppy was just- too nice. 

"I love you," Skeppy said, the words coming to him easily. "And you're perfect just as you are." 

"Stop being nicer than me," Ant ordered, nuzzling into Skeppy's shoulder.

"Never," the golem hybrid countered. "I am the nicest." 

He didn't rush Ant onwards, even though he'd already set their plans for the morning.  As far as Skeppy was concerned, it seemed, they could wait.  It was like he just wanted to be there for Ant. 

And Ant just- he'd repay the care in kind, he would.  This was his protector, and he would do right by Skeppy as much as he could. 

And that was that.

~:~

Skeppy was grateful that they'd managed to get that little misconception cleared up because boy had he been utterly unprepared to deal with a distraught bearer – Ant perfectly fine in one moment, cozying up to Skeppy like there was nowhere else he'd rather be in the world (and if that didn't go right to Skeppy's protector ego, he wasn't sure what would) and then seeming hopelessly embarrassed and ashamed the next.  Skeppy's more individually-focused responses had immediately feared the abrupt change had been due to him, that while Ant had theoretically understood that one day he and Skeppy might get it on, the practical application of such an affair wounded him more than he'd anticipated, and then Skeppy had gotten over himself and focused on Ant.  And he was- was grateful that Ant hadn't snapped at him or anything, because perhaps it was impertinent for Skeppy to do research, but he'd wanted to have an idea of what could happen, because ignorance felt like a disservice to Ant and Skeppy's instincts demanded that he look after the bearer with as much care as possible.

But Ant had only been mad at himself, which Skeppy didn't really understand (if he tried, if he put himself in the bearer's shoes maybe he could get it, but it was hard to separate how pleased Ant made his instincts by simply existing as a positive presence), but at the very least, they had fixed it.

Conceptually, maybe it made sense.  If Skeppy was a protector but hid his protector-ness and then couldn't do stereotypical protector things after having a big huge party proclaiming his protector-ness then perhaps he too might have felt self-conscious, but he'd managed to console Ant and they'd parted on a high note as they each retreated to their own wash rooms for long, luxurious baths.  Skeppy was still getting used to having attendants help him with this kind of stuff.  It was super embarrassing, but as the son of a marquess visiting someone else's household, it would be rude to turn it down.  And he could admit, the head rubs were sort of nice.  It certainly gave him plenty of time to review what had happened the night before.

Sex.  With Ant.  It was always a possibility, Skeppy just hadn't expected to be hit with it so fast, or for it to just... be so easy.

He'd really thought it was going to be difficult.  He thought he would struggle since he'd spent the entirety of his adult life being intimate with only one person – the person he had been forced to publicly scorn.  It was impossible to think of having sex with anyone other than Bad, but with Ant it had been terribly, terribly easy, and part of him couldn't help but feel guilty for that.  They'd both had fun, they'd both needed that connection.  Ant had asked and Skeppy had stumbled over himself to deliver, had been so eager but somehow kept his head enough to make sure it was done right- he'd thought it might be weird, but it had felt natural instead.  Like an inevitable escalation of their relationship.

Ant had been so coy, and when he'd been totally spent – when Skeppy had made him totally spent – Skeppy had slid him into the tub, boneless and satiated- 

Ant had leaned against the edge of the tub, head pillowed against his arms as he watched Skeppy strip down, releasing pleased purr after pleased purr, and maybe Skeppy had put on a bit of a show for him in the end, his protector instincts urging him to drag things out.  The way Ant's eyes had widened when he removed his cup-

That had- it had been a loud purr that spilled from Ant's mouth, so loud but he didn't seem even the slightest bit bashful about it, like he couldn't even possibly conceive being self-conscious. 

"Mine," Ant had whispered under his breath, as though he had not devastated Skeppy enough. "Mine-mine-mine." 

Ant had jerked him off in the tub while they'd traded sloppy kisses, and it had never once felt odd.

It wouldn't be the case with anyone, Skeppy knew.  His anxiety wanted him to think as much, but that simply wasn't real.  It was only because it was Ant, and even if they hadn't been in the realm of comfortable, undoubted friendship for a relatively short period of time, they had been in each other's orbit for years now – two hopeful stars revolving around Bad, and apparently when left to their own devices, they could get by just fine.  Skeppy didn't know what to do with that information.  Or, the practical soldier within him did – there was nothing to do but simply embrace things, but the romantic in him wanted to be torn.

He wasn't replacing Bad, he knew that in his bones.  There was no way to replace Bad in his life, but maybe... maybe there was space for Ant as well, was all.  Skeppy had given up on such things after succeeding with Bad because how could he ever press for more – he'd been called annoying enough times in his life that it seemed absurd to even contemplate such a thing – but now here he was with a cute, very interested bearer that he was engaged to – with a funny, charming Ant as his future husband, and things were just... good.

Holy shit, was this how Sapnap felt?  All torn and conflicted because of how much he enjoyed spending time with Karl?  Because Dream wasn't dead, Sapnap just couldn't be with him, and Bad wasn't dead, Skeppy just couldn't-

Wow, they really should form a support group or something.  It was crazy that this sort of thing had happened more than once, let alone within the same pack.  Did they know anyone else that was currently in an absurd romantic situation?  Maybe Niki could join out of solidarity or something, it wasn't like she had ever explained why she and Puffy weren't courting yet, though Skeppy had a strong feeling that related to both of them being peacekeepers in a society that was somewhat homophobic. 

But life was- life was good, and Skeppy was engaged, and Ant would be going into heat soon.

Perhaps sooner than they all expected, because when Skeppy returned to Ant's bedroom to escort his fiancé down to breakfast, it was to find the cat hybrid fretfully rearranging his nest, two of his maids lingering off to the side with worried expressions.  While Skeppy was entirely new to all of this, the slight dilation of Ant's pupils combined with the light flush spreading across the bridge of Ant's nose felt like a very strong indication as to what was happening. 

He sent for Ponk anyway.  No point in ignoring an asset if it was easily on hand. 

Ant took the intrusion with furrowed brows, but thankfully was more distracted with pillow arrangement than he was the additional company, and so long as they kept their distance, things seemed to be okay.

Double thankfully, Ponk didn't need to get close to ascertain what was going on. "Yes, it would seem that Ant is very much in preheat."

"I don't understand," Skeppy said, shooting Ant a supportive smile any time the cat hybrid glanced his way, which was often. "I thought he was still on his suppressants." 

"We've been slowly weaning him off them so it wouldn't be such a shock when he stopped taking them entirely," Ponk explained. "It would seem that his body took advantage of the slight dip in dosage and went all in." 

"Ah," Skeppy said, as though he had any expertise in the matter.  It did make sense though.  He was sure the sex yesterday didn't really help in matters of restraint. 

"It's okay, you already have a plan in place," Ponk reminded him. "You already have this time scheduled off, it just moved up a bit, and no one will hold it against you.  Social-wise, everything is above board now that you're engaged."

"Right," Skeppy said, nodding to himself. "Right, right, right."

"I know this can be intimidating, but just trust yourself," Ponk advised. "You're a good protector, Skeppy.  Your instincts won’t lead you astray." His smile stretched wide beneath the fabric of his mask. "He picked you for a reason." 

Because Skeppy was close on hand?  But no, that would be a disservice to Ant, much like it would be a disservice to Bad, so Skeppy just- yeah, had to get his head in the game a little early.  No pressure.

No pressure at all.

Skeppy held onto that mantra while he spoke with the servants, refreshing them on the established heat plan – the necessary supplies, rotation of meals, drop off procedure, all of it. It was more for his anxiety than anything else, and he was grateful for the fact that they were at the point where Ant was content to keep him in view rather than immediately nearby as the cat hybrid continued to adjust the nest to his own specifications.  During this period of setup, Skeppy spoke with Marquess Manifold as well, and Josh, both of whom gave him quiet and subtle bids of support as fellow protectors, and more obvious bids of support as Skeppy's new packmates.

"You're family now," Josh said, a determined set to his brow. "And you make him happy.  Of course you have my entire support."

"Um- thanks," Skeppy managed to get out, already flustered by the distracted bearer lingering around his nest behind him and utterly unprepared to deal with such open displays of affection this early in the day.  Or life. 

"We'll contact Marquess Blade on your behalf," Marquess Manifold said, adopting an air of neutrality seeming in deference to Skeppy, which was just- yeah. 

"Cool," Skeppy said again, super coherently. "Thanks."

"It's no trouble," the marquess said, and that took care of informing the outside world – at least the parties that Ant had already approved of when they'd been making their heat plan, and Skeppy just- didn't even want to think about the basket of tools he would have to retrieve from the hidden drawer when everyone left, didn't think too hard about the small redstone cooler that the maids were leaving as close to the nest as Ant would allow them, the one that was full of bottles of water for hydration because it was just so easy to get dehydrated during a heat.  Ponk had already given Skeppy an extensive lecture on the matter since it would be his job as the more coherent party to keep both himself and Ant healthy, and if he failed to respond to any of the check ins, the doctor might come in to make sure they weren't dead or something, and if they happened to be occupied at the time-

Right, so- just wasn't going to think about any of those things until they were upon him, it wasn't like he could avoid them forever anyway, he just wanted to give himself a few more minutes to come to terms with the week ahead.  He was anxious – of course he was.  They had no idea what to expect from Ant's first real heat.  It was highly likely that it would defy all established standards.  It may take twice as long; it might be shorter.  Ant might be insatiable; he might not be.  He might be tight, but it wasn't like Skeppy cared about that (he was afraid his protector instincts would, that he might turn into some kind of monster if he couldn't have a knot or something, he didn't know, but it turned out he really was decent deep down because his greatest satisfaction had rested in making Ant happy, and that was a lovely thing to learn about himself, really).  Anything could happen, and the lack of known quantities worried Skeppy, but he tried to hold onto Ponk's advice.  He needed to focus on the stuff they had planned, because they'd prepared for everything that they could, and for everything else, Skeppy just needed to trust his instincts. 

This was all very easy to do in theory.

In practice, it sort of all went out the window the moment Ant started crying.

Skeppy went tense at the first noise of bearer displeasure, his protector instincts drowning in shame for such a sound to occur on his watch.  He turned abruptly, jerking away from the clothing supplies he'd been rifling through, and immediately cut a path to Ant's side, the cat hybrid looking utterly distraught.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Skeppy soothed, both hands offered out in a show of surrender, arms parted to allow Ant as much access to him as needed. "I'm sorry, Ant, I wasn't ignoring you, I was just- but I'm done now, I'm all yours-"

"Baby," Ant interrupted, his eyes all watery and wide, one of his blankets clutched against his chest. "Baby." 

Skeppy floundered, because that wasn't- that didn't feel like a pet name.  That didn't feel like something that was directed at him. 

Maybe it was more like... instructions?

Now that Skeppy was paying more attention, he could see the way Ant looked around as though searching for something – nope, searching for someone, his lower lip beginning to wobble when he failed to pick them out. 

He turned that devastating gaze back onto Skeppy, his expression crumbling. "Baby." 

Sweet Prime, it was a nesting heat.

"Right," Skeppy said, giving into his instincts and rushing forward, gathering Ant into a hug. "Good-good-safe-good," he offered in Protector, his mind traveling a mile a minute. "It's okay, he's just outside, alright?  I'll go get him and then we can all cuddle in the nest, I promise."

"Baby?" Ant asked, perking up with a hope so painfully strong in his tone it made Skeppy want to cry. "My baby, my baby?" 

"Yes, I'm going to get your baby," Skeppy said, hating how relieved he was, because this had been a possibility but Ponk hadn't been expecting it, had said it was unlikely with Josh as old and capable as he was, but here they were. "I have to step out real quick-"

"Noooooo," Ant whined, scenting Skeppy's shoulder with a shuddering breath. "Stay-stay-stay."

"I'll send out a note," Skeppy compromised. "I'll be in sight the entire time, and you can fix the nest for the baby."

Ant perked up at the mention of Josh, pulling away enough to press a kiss against Skeppy's cheek before he turned his attention back to his blankets, pleased with the latest development.

Which just- right, the note.

Looked like they were going to have a mini hibernation fest, but after everything they'd gone though, it seemed nice.  Something that was easy and relaxing – maybe that was why Ant decided to have a nesting heat. 

Skeppy wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  Instead he got to work, and less than two minutes later, Josh was speeding into the suite, eyes wide as he took in his brother fretting over the nest.

"A nesting heat?" Josh repeated, as though he hadn't believed Skeppy’s message.

"That's what it seems like," Skeppy whispered back. "Thanks for coming."

"You're heat dumb so I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Josh offered with a few pats to Skeppy's arm, which was kind of him because one really didn't need to thank a protector for looking after a bearer during their heat, that was just basic decency. 

By this point, Ant seemed to realize that they'd gained company and jerked upright, a delighted smile tugging at his lips.

"Baby!" Ant cheered, making grabby hands towards Josh as he beckoned him over. "Hello, baby. Hello!" He hugged onto Josh the moment he was close, scenting the blaze hybrid and looking him over, and then that happy grin was turned onto Skeppy, and he'd done well, done good-

And then Ant was looking confused again.

The cat hybrid glanced between Josh and Skeppy, a pout pulling at his lips. "Big baby," Ant informed them, giving Josh a few pats. "Little baby?" he asked Skeppy. "Little baby. Need little baby." 

There was- did he mean Sapnap?

"He must mean one of the royal pups," Josh said, thankfully more coherent – or rather, less heat dumb since he'd been exposed to less pheromones than Skeppy. "It's okay, it's okay," he offered to Ant. "Little baby come soon. Love-love-love."

"Love-love-love," Ant chimed back, and Skeppy used that opportunity to send out yet another note, because apparently at some point Ant's instincts had claimed one of the royal pups as his own, and Skeppy had no idea who.

Thankfully, that answer came by way of a breathless Philza who'd apparently flown directly from the castle, a minorly distraught pup cradled in his arms.

"Hey mate," the emperor greeted when Skeppy risked ducking out into the hallway. "Sorry about this.  I know Ant is uh- indisposed right now, but Ranboo-"

"Oh, thank goodness," Skeppy said, scooping the young enderman hybrid who was definitely in his instincts close to his chest. "You knew you needed to be with Ant too, right Boo?  Good job." 

"Nesting heat," Ponk was kind enough to explain to Philza when the emperor just sort of stood there, seeming dazed. "May we borrow Prince Ranboo, your highness?"

"Pretty sure Ranboo wants to be borrowed, but yes, absolutely," Philza said with a flap of his hand. "You all holding up alright?"

"I'll let you know in a week or so," Skeppy said, settling Ranboo more comfortably against his shoulder before he dove back into the fray.

Their newest guest was met with great jubilation, Ant hopping out of the nest to rush to their side, stealing Ranboo right out of Skeppy's arms.

"Baby!" Ant cheered, spinning Ranboo in a circle. "Little baby, big baby, happy, happy mama." 

"Yay-yay-yay," Ranboo purred back in Pup, slumping into Ant with a pleased cuddle, looking utterly contented, like there was nowhere else he would rather be and Skeppy didn't understand it, but he didn't have to in order to fall in love with the picture it presented, Ant cuddling his pup close, tucking Ranboo into the nest beside Josh who was already safely inside.

There really was- there was no pressure now.  It was just a nesting heat.  A cuddle fest to resolidify their bonds as a pack.  After a day or so, Skeppy bet Marquess Manifold could join them, if he wanted.  Maybe even Techno too, it really just depended on Ant.  For this first part though, it would only be Skeppy and the pups, and that was- that was truly all they needed. 

And just like that, Skeppy allowed relief to consume him.  He didn't have to be a careful, super sexual machine.  He could just be a doting and supportive, cuddly partner.  That was it.  They'd get a nap in and have a late breakfast and could just- relax.

Sweet Prime, did Skeppy love Ant.

It was a sudden realization, for all that he had suspected the feelings were there. He'd even expressed as much to Ant before, even if he knew the depths of this emotion were different now.  He loved Ant, loved that the cat hybrid's body knew what they needed, loved... this. 

It was a love that hurt, that would likely always hurt a bit because of Bad's absence, but Skeppy just- he had to fight knowing that one day the Nether Demon would be by their side again.

Until then, he would look after Ant for both of them.

And that would be enough.

Chapter Text

Bad was too exhausted to give his surroundings much thought, head blank from the confrontation he had fought through, neck aching with the phantom grip of his contractor.  It had never been that visceral before.  Their previous communications had occurred via some sort of mirror magic that replaced Bad's reflection with the swirling miasma that his contractor used to shield his identity.  They had spoken twice, briefly, and while Bad had the good sense to register fear deep in his gut, for he understood the full extent of his contractor's power, they'd never had a confrontation like the one in the private lounge before.  His contractor had never wasted energy on such things, but if Bad had played his cards wrong, if Foolish had been a few moments slower, then Bad very well could have been choked unconscious. 

Prime, he'd known he was playing a dangerous game, but to see it in action was an entirely different matter.  At the very least, his reuse regarding Ant seemed to have worked.  Bad had been afraid – terrified that his contractor would try to push Bad in anyway, perhaps give him some sort of dark magic to guarantee his success, like a love potion or aphrodisiac – the first of which was only rumored in legends and the second of which was horrifically real, and Bad couldn't stand the thought of either, for all that he couldn't help but be certain that his contractor was capable of both. 

His benefactor had resolved to find a different way, and Bad needed to determine what it might be.  If Foolish had just waited a few moments longer- perhaps Bad would have passed out, but he might have been able to get some more information.  There was just so little he could glean on his own, and his contractor was proud.  If he just- if he prodded, the other might divulge something, might brag, and then Bad could begin creating subtle counter measures.

At the very least, he hoped that his contractor wouldn't involve another bearer in things.  Bearers were rare, which was why they were coveted, but they also weren't beings that could be bought over.  Sure, they would be nice or kind enough to those that were polite to them in turn, but the only individuals that they might push for more from were the ones that their instincts guided them to.  There was no outside, societal or political pressure that could change a bearer's mind.  It was why the empress seat had sat vacant for so long.  There had been bearers in high society, but none had claimed Philza – not because he was lacking, but because it wasn't where their instincts knew they needed to be. 

That tricky, biological measure would be enough to protect Bad, surely.  Ant had already claimed him, it was unlikely that a second bearer would do such a thing, let alone a bearer his contractor had power over.  It was almost guaranteed that Bad would be fine in that particular regard which just left... everything else to consider.  Every other alternative.

Ugh, his head hurt.  

"Are you sure you don't need an ice pack?" Quackity asked, fretting over Bad as much as he was allowed, shifting his weight anxiously from foot to foot from where he hovered in front of the Nether Demon.  He was at the stage in his pregnancy where it was more comfortable to remain upright rather than standing, and Bad had submitted to his care without complaint, knowing it was an honor but also unwilling to exacerbate the avian's anxiety further by denying Quackity this opportunity. "Foolish said your cheek is bruised." 

"It looks worse than it is," Bad soothed, keeping his volume low to hide the lingering rasp in his tone. "I'm fine, mama." 

Quackity paused, and it seemed for a moment that his pupils might dilate, indicating the alluring sway of his instincts, but then the bearer's cheeks puffed out in annoyance. "You only call me that when you want to distract me," he complained, far more forthright than he'd normally be.

Because he was worried.  Still, it didn't stop Bad from wincing as shame curled hard in his stomach.  To think that he could still feel such a thing after all he'd done. "I'm sorry." 

"I know you mean well," Quackity sighed, giving his arm a few pats. "That everyone means well, but you don't have to force yourself just because I'm pregnant and worried.  I know your instincts might be telling you otherwise-"

"Like they're telling you to fret over me?" Bad countered, his tone jovial, joking, but there was a serious inquiry in his tone.  He wanted to know, for all that he already knew the answer. 

"You're my baby," Quackity countered, the response immediate. 

"Right," Bad said, giving his head a slight shake as though to clear it. "Sorry."

That he'd chosen so poorly.  That Bad couldn't be better, but he masked it as though he'd forgotten instead.  That he was apologetic for pushing boundaries. 

As though Bad would ever apologize for that.  

He couldn't, not when he would do it over and over again without hesitation.  Anything he needed to help Sapnap survive. 

Quackity sighed, and then small, calloused hands were cupping Bad's cheeks, their touch oh-so gentle. "Please don't apologize," Quackity murmured, the avian leaning forward to nuzzle their foreheads together. "We all know that you're doing the best that you can right now."

The best within his limitations, which was true, but he couldn't say as much and he couldn't help but wonder when that futility would get easier to handle.  If it ever would.

He feared that it wouldn't.

"I'm still sorry," Bad repeated, because he needed to emphasize as much. "I didn't mean to disrupt the party." 

"None of us ever do," Quackity said sagely, as though this were a problem that afflicted their pack frequently, and in hindsight, Bad supposed it sort of was. 

They really were a dramatic bunch, weren't they?  Bad knew at some point – or hoped, at least – that they would get to a time of stability, though it was difficult to conceive of such a thing with the way matters currently stood.

"It's not like you did it on purpose," Quackity continued, seeming to harden his resolve. "You didn't even know that you had magic that could act up in the first place, or that Foolish would be able to sense it."

"Right," Bad said, eyes straying towards where Duke Wastaken had taken up post by the door to the lounge, keeping a respectable distance while still maintaining a distinct vigil over the crown prince.  The duke was in public, and as such still wearing his trademark mask and hood.  Despite that, Bad could feel the doubt that radiated from the end hybrid in steady waves. 

Quackity might be kind enough to buy Bad's cover story, but Duke Wastaken and Foolish knew better.  Or perhaps they didn't- and Bad wanted to cling to that belief.  It had been Nether magic they had sensed, after all, what was not to say that Bad had channeled it?  But that magic was- it was older than him by a long shot, and someone truly connected with the magical aspects of the world would know that.  They would know it was not Bad, but they had not asked who it truly could be, listening to Bad's cover.

Hopefully understanding that he couldn't so much as brush near the truth without risking drastic repercussions.

They fell into an uneasy silence, Quackity gazing upon Bad with open concern, brows furrowed as he took the Nether Demon in, trying to unravel the puzzle that was his eldest pup.  It was a consideration to which Bad was utterly accustomed, and while he knew he had been granted such a thing entirely due to Sapnap's own charms rather than his own, his instincts preened at such focus.  It was- difficult.  As tempting as it was to lose himself to such contentment, it wasn't a luxury he could afford.  He was an adult, had been one since he'd turned ten.  He didn't have- he couldn't be a child.  Couldn't act like a child.  Couldn't savor what had been stolen from him.  

The time had passed for such things.

But still, he could enjoy this one moment, perhaps use it to fuel him going forward. 

"Baby," Quackity began, trailing off because he must be unsure how to continue, confused and heartbroken by the actions of his eldest pup.  Despite how intelligent and calculating Quackity was – seeming to have an inherent understanding of documentation and legal procedure – the delicate manipulations and power dynamics of upper nobility seemed to escape him.  He was learning through terrible experience, and Bad knew that once a lesson was taught, the avian wouldn't forget it, wouldn't dare risk allowing his pups to be hurt twice in the same way, but as it was, there was little he could do for Bad.  

After all, the hardest lesson Bad had learned was that sometimes the very best tactic was to do nothing at all.  It was a concept that inherently went against most hybrid natures, which was what made it so difficult.  Bad had no way of knowing how well Quackity would be able to manage such things, especially after his time of repression and abuse under Schlatt.  Would that make him less or more prone to playing things carefully?  It was a pleasant distraction to contemplate, at least.

The doors were being thrown open before Quackity could continue, and in returned Foolish with Callahan, of all individuals, treading on his heels. 

Bad knew more of Callahan than he knew the Stardeer specifically.  The grand judge had been more of Dream and George's friend than his own, but Callahan had been kind enough to open his private residence to Sapnap, to share his art and offer whatever comfort he could manage, and for that alone Bad was greatly indebted to him.

With them also came Duchess Wastaken, as well as Philza, which further grew the unease brewing in Bad's stomach.  It was not a comfort to have so many powerful individuals in one place, especially if they were close to him. 

"Okay!" Foolish began, clapping his hands together to call for their attention, as though he did not already have it.  His voice was louder than it might normally be, even for subjects which brought him great excitement, and with a start, Bad realized that this was his- his acting voice. "We have a minor problem but great news, it is very fixable, and that is why we're all here."

"Darling," Philza began, reaching a hand towards the totem hybrid who deftly sidestepped him, escaping the emperor's reach before he could ever make contact.  The blond drew his hand to his side smoothly, making it seem as though he had never been spurned at all, though Bad knew that was more from trained habit than an actual concern of his current company's perception of him.  The emperor cleared his throat. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning?"

"Right." Foolish nodded, still not looking at the emperor, and marched over to Quackity's side, offering the bearer his arm. "It seems that Bad's Nether Demon magic is acting up.  Or I guess, that he managed to access his Nether Demon magic, which upon my quick and thorough interrogation of Clara I have come to realize is a quite a momentous achievement for Nether Demons, so let's uh- give a round of applause for Bad."

There was an awkward beat where they did just that, all of them offering polite golf claps – some more enthusiastically than others.  Quackity especially jumped at the opportunity for an interaction that prompted positive social momentum, and Bad swallowed down the resulting swell of guilt at the sight.

"Cool-cool-cool-great," Foolish said, all in Common, his fingers twitching with restless energy.  Bad wondered if it was a comfort to have a new project to focus on, anything that wasn't dealing with the grief of his late husband. "Awesome, we're all very proud, but now onto the very fixable problem aspect of this – it also seems like Bad's magic is uh- acting out in random bursts, which was what I felt at the party tonight."

"Clearly," Clara was kind enough to echo, everyone else nodding along as though they had any idea, just- playing along with-

They had no idea what was going on.  They had no idea, but they were still- and for Bad.

It was the sort of overwhelming concept that Bad couldn't dare dwell on for fear that he would shatter into a million irreparable pieces, but still, it was very comforting.  Later, if he ever escaped this, if he ever satisfied his end of the bargain, perhaps he could truly marvel at it.

"And as Bad is the crown prince and very important to all of us," Foolish continued with a dramatic flick of his hand. "It would only be responsible for us to secure a high-level magic user with him at all times until such a point where we know his powers are entirely in check."

"It's the reasonable thing to do," Clara agreed while Quackity released a loud, pleased purr in Bearer.

"Take care of my baby," Quackity whispered to Foolish, his pupils dilating slightly. "Please, that's very-"

"Um." A copper tinged flush dusted Foolish's cheeks. "Yes, I also find you very attractive right now, ducky."

Quackity released another purr that was very loud and very happy.  It was enough to make even Bad feel a bit warm under the collar, and across the room, Philza didn't seem to be fairing much better.

Foolish cleared his throat again, loudly. "So clearly, we uh- need to create a schedule. For Bad's safety, because we care about him so much."

"We should pull him back from some of his duties," Quackity murmured, nuzzling Foolish's hair. "To be safe."

While Ant and Wilbur had gotten onboard with treating Bad less-great in public, Quackity had played the good inspector to their bad inspectors.  While he had pulled himself back in public, in private, he couldn't seem to help but communicate his care.  Bad hadn't begrudged it.  Partly because on an instinctual level, Wilbur and Ant's dismissal had been devastating for all that he'd asked for it, and having Quackity's care to counter it had helped tremendously.  It also made things slightly more believable for his contractor. 

Bad could see Philza grit his teeth, but the emperor's disposition didn't otherwise fumble. "It's for the best," he allowed, his wings drawn close to his back. "Perhaps now would be a good time to select a prince steward." He cocked his head to the side, considering. "Perhaps Lady Niki will finally accept a promotion."

"She does have a keen eye for politics, as much as she'd rather avoid them," Duchess Wastaken mused. 

"I..." Bad didn't know what to say.  It would be good to pass off more of his duties, good to hide himself from the public eye, but he had to put up a fight for the sake of appearances, and Niki-

He didn't want to think of what his contractor might do to her just to make a warning.  Didn't know if he had the power to keep disposing of prince stewards until he could put one of his own in position, as though Philza would ever allow such a thing.  Not after Schlatt. 

Bad cleared his throat. "I'm fine-"

"It would really make me feel better," Quackity interrupted, turning his large eyes onto Bad.  "Please-please-please?" he added in Bearer.

Oh good, no one could reasonably argue that. 

Perhaps Quackity was getting better at politics after all.

Bad made a show of slumping. "As you wish, your- mama."

"Just mama," Quackity tutted, giving Bad's arm a few pats. "With that settled, let's start on the schedule.  Duchess?"

"I'll go retrieve Lady Niki," Duchess Wastaken said, and with that, the political machine moved on.

Bad didn't know if it was better or not.  Their presence would keep his contractor from reaching out to him, surely, but that only meant that he could concentrate his power on the few moments Bad was alone, intensifying his presence the same way he had that day.  Or without Bad to distract him, he might focus his efforts elsewhere.  Bad didn't know if it was better.

But it was what he could do, and he held onto that, hoping that things would somehow turn out right in the end.

~:~

Nesting heats were, in Skeppy's very humble opinion, the very best things ever. 

With Ant making up for lost time, it had dragged on for a solid week and a half, with a few extra days of post-heat lethargy that they took their time working through.  Nesting heats were essentially very intense bonding sessions for a pack – periods of rest inspired by the pack bearer's pheromones that lulled them all into a mostly meditative or hibernating state.  The periods of lucidity they had were spent eating, cuddling, and um- grooming – doing all the fundamental pack care stuff, and while it was strange to do such a thing with people who weren't Bad or Sapnap, it was still really, really nice. 

"Good baby, good-good-good," Ant cooed to Ranboo whenever they'd given the pup a bath, the little enderman hybrid sporting a rune of water resistance courtesy of Foolish so they didn't have to worry about potion management on top of everything else.  Ant was less intense with the older members of the pack, sticking with hair brushing, nail cleaning, and scale (or diamond) buildup.  They did pack vocalizations the likes of which were exclusively reserved for private time, and it was just- good.

Where before, Skeppy might have felt awkward around Josh or Marquess Manifold, now he felt an inherent ease.  Ant's heat had helped them form subconscious pack connections after the marquess had joined them on the fourth day, and Ant had even allowed Techno and Connor in as well. 

It was awesome, or had been, for the most part.

And then came the harder times when they had to leave Ranboo in the nest in Josh's care, Skeppy pulling Ant aside to the backup nest or the bathroom or the closet – wherever they could reach – the golem hybrid holding Ant close as he cried out for his missing peacekeeper.

"M-M-Mine," Ant crooned into Skeppy's shoulder, gripping onto him fiercely, as though he were worried that the protector might disappear if his grip loosened even a fraction. "P-Peacekeeper- my peacekeeper- want-want-want-please."

"I'm sorry," Skeppy could only say, throat thick and eyes hot from the effort to hold back his tears, trying to maintain composure instead of giving into the air of all consuming sorrow spawned by the bearer. "Sorry-sorry-sorry.  He- he would be here if he could."

It wasn't an acceptable explanation for an Ant that was deep in his instincts, and so such sessions would usually end with him crying himself unconscious.  Skeppy would carry him back to the nest with a heavy heart, and the next time the bearer awoke he was usually distracted satisfying Ranboo's needs, and then things were good because he was happy and that joy was infectious.  For the most part, the nesting heat had been the breath of fresh air their packs needed to resolidify themselves before the upcoming storm.  Both the Manifolds and the Blades were destined to be upgraded into dukedoms in the upcoming year, and things were tricky enough as it was simply dealing with the aftermath of speculation of such a thing, forget what it would be like when it was actually upon them. 

Ant had stopped asking for Bad the last few days of his heat, allowing them to end on a high note, and once he was officially coherent again, the weight of his care could be distributed among his friends and servants as well, all of which were eager to step up and be of service. It was how Skeppy could pull himself away from Ant's side for the first time in two weeks to meet with Ponk, sent off with Ant's blessing to discuss 'boring medicine stuff' while he took another nap curled up in Skeppy's cloak.  Which just- yeah.

And now here he was, and of course he was going to be anxious for the first separation post-heat, but his disposition wasn't really helped by the expression of clear concern on Ponk's features.  Normally, the doctor wore an air of neutrality like a second skin, but Skeppy suspected that the royal pack had worn him down with their repetitive bouts of unique and extreme trauma.  So uh- he guessed that was a bit impressive in itself, if he thought about it. 

"Something's wrong," Skeppy said, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "Or something has you worried."

"Got it in one," Ponk said, managing a weak smile. "Thanks for agreeing to see me."

"My dude, I will always make time for you.  After everything you've done for us – whatever you need that I can help with, I'm there, no questions asked."

"That's a comfort," Ponk said, grin seeming strained beneath his mask. "I wish all my patients felt like that."

There was a moment where neither one of them brought up George, who had almost certainly left the castle against medical advisement after his coma.  And that was what Skeppy knew about.  Prime knew there were likely more uncooperative individuals among Ponk's eccentric bounty of patients. 

"If only," Skeppy agreed, his throat tight with discomfort.

Ponk shook his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean- my apologies."

"You are also allowed to vent," Skeppy reminded him. "I know most of us are your patients, but you've got to look after yourself too."

Skeppy was sure it was even more difficult now with Ponk taking on the bulk of the medical duties regarding the royal flock – both mental and physical.  They would need to recruit help for him at some point – trusted assistance – but it was difficult to vet people nowadays, especially with so many stressful developments occurring one after the other.  Unless Karl was secretly a doctor- maybe he could get some therapist training from Ponk.  He seemed to be doing wonders with Sapnap, at least, so that was one person who was stable and happy.

"I know," Ponk said, some of the tension easing in his shoulders. "Thanks. I'm- I'm doing what I can, though my own struggles are not why I requested this meeting."

"It's about Ant," Skeppy said, because there was really no other reason Ant would need to sign a form for him just so they could have this conversation. "Was something wrong with his heat?"

"No, we had expected that the duration might extend past a normal heat since it had been his first proper one since presenting," Ponk countered immediately, easing the tension in Skeppy's chest. "The heat itself went as expected, and I think we're all grateful for that.  My concern is just that- I think that we just need to consider some possibilities that we might have otherwise dismissed, that might not be true, but they are still on the table-"

"Ponk," Skeppy interrupted, the tension he'd managed to shake off returning with full vengeance. "Is it because it was a nesting heat?"

The doctor seemed to deflate, a clear grief in his eyes, and Skeppy realized that this issue wasn't- that the thing that had brought him so much joy for the past few weeks could be indicative of a major medical concern.

"There are a few possibilities," Ponk began, his tone even. "This could quite possibly be Ant's body easing itself into proper heats, or it could be that since this is a heightened time of stress for all of us that his instincts knew that you could all use a nesting heat.  Those are distinct possibilities but I... I'm a doctor of the mind before I am a doctor of the body, and every hybrid is different, but there are some fundamental aspects of biology that hold true for each second sex across the board.  And while Ant is by far the most extreme case of a bearer going on suppressants for an extended period of time I’ve ever seen, he isn't an isolated incident, exactly.  Granted, none of the recorded instances went nearly as long as he did, but they still- their bodies prioritized reproduction over pack cohesion, because when bearers are without a pup, that is what their bodies inherently understand to be the best method of drawing a pack together."

"But Ant has pups," Skeppy said. "Claimed pups."

"Yes, he does, and they are wonderful," Ponk said, his words coming with a soothing rumble. "But Ant is of prime bearing age.  For bearers- there are those that aren't interested in the sexual aspects of a relationship, and as a result, they never go into reproductive heats, that isn't something that they need, but Ant- he has those desires, and I'm just concerned that his body didn't take this opportunity to pursue them, especially when he was sharing it with a protector with whom he so greatly cares for."

"Maybe he uh- only sees me as a brother," Skeppy said, his voice coming out in a weak croak.

Ponk gave him a pitying look, the depths of which indicated that they had neither the time nor permission to discuss such matters, but uh-

Yeah, so Ant liked Skeppy.  Not as a brother.  Maybe not in love but uh- he wasn't a brother, so that was- he wouldn't panic at the immensity of that or anything. 

"We won't know more until he has another heat," Ponk said. "But my concern is that perhaps Ant didn't engage in a reproductive heat because he might not possess the ability to do so anymore."

Skeppy's throat went tight at the thought of it. "You think all those years of suppressants-"

"At such a young age when he was still growing- under all that stress- it's not unheard of," Ponk said. "There is the distinct possibility that Ant might not be fertile, or that his fertility might be very low, and I wanted to brace you for the possibility for that."

"What?" Skeppy pressed. "See if I'd freak out because I couldn't- what the fuck?"

"I know, I know, but it's standard procedure to test the character of a bearer's chosen protector when it comes to these things, essentially," Ponk said. "It's just-"

"Procedure," Skeppy interrupted, deflating all at once. 

Ant might not be able to have children.  It didn't matter to Skeppy, of course, Ant's value was hardly determined by that, but he just- he feared how the cat hybrid would feel about that.

And that- he realized with a start - was why Ponk had spoken with him first.  Because if Skeppy fell apart with this knowledge, he needed to do it now before they broke the news to Ant.

"It's not a guarantee," Ponk said. "We can do more testing, and there are treatments – I'm sure there are plenty who would be happy to make treatments, if he wanted, but he needs to understand that it is a possibility." 

Prime, Skeppy hated the thought of it.  Ant had felt so bad because he'd been tight, like that fucking mattered, Skeppy hated to think how devastated he might be by this.  But Skeppy wouldn't- he would reassure Ant every step of the way.  The cat hybrid was wonderful as he was, and the public fallout-

It seemed that Duchess Wastaken and George were going to be working overtime as far as swaying the masses was concerned, but Skeppy would give anything to ensure that no one disparaged Ant's name.  As far as they were concerned, he had just type shifted – and he could see the more poison of the populous now, could envision their snarls 'type shifting into a useless bearer' – Skeppy burned at the thought of it.

"We have time," Ponk said, cutting through his devolving thought process. "And it isn't a guarantee.  The important thing is not to panic.  We're together on this."

"Right," Skeppy said, reorganizing his priorities.  He couldn't be an idiot about this.  Ant had chosen Skeppy to be his protector, and he wasn't there just for the easy stuff.  He was here through thick and thin – this was his fiancé they were talking about.  And Bad was- Bad was counting on Skeppy – the golem hybrid would look after Ant and Bad would escape his crown and blackmailer and then they would all be together again.

Skeppy wasn't going to crumble just because things had gotten hard.

It wasn't the Blade way, and his was etched in unyielding diamond.

Chapter Text

The nesting heat had been far less of a trial than Ant's presentation heat.

The presentation heat had been terrifying, his body wracked with a fever so intense it left him weak and disoriented, had him hiding away in the back of the closet of his dorm room, not having a single clue as to what was going on but understanding inherently that it needed to be covered up.  His instincts had guided him that far, even if he hadn't understood the changes crashing over his body.  He'd been so certain that he'd been struck with a deadly disease that would snuff him out before he'd even really began his life – he hadn't been a scholarship student for that long and he was working so hard-

And then he'd come through the other side and was horrified, because everyone else his age was still speaking Pup and suddenly he could speak Bearer and he could only thank Prime for the way scholarship students overcompensated with their social behaviors so that they fit in better with the more conservative nobility because Ant hadn't used his second sex speech in over a decade and no one had thought twice about it. 

His presentation heat had been the beginning of years of anxiety and fear, of constant terror clawing at his gut, and while he'd finally been relieved of that, he still had held a certain trepidation when intentionally setting off another heat.  And he was- he was grateful that it had been a nesting heat, because that was what he'd needed.  He'd been so relieved, because he wanted bonding time with Skeppy and his pack, he wanted time with Ranboo, apparently, who he must have claimed as his own.  He'd never- it was an accident, and no one seemed to hold it against him, Wilbur welcoming him with a warm smile when Ant was finally ready to return to the world beyond his nest.

"Ponk did a blood test on a hunch," Wilbur explained, grip gentle when he squeezed onto Ant's hands. "We always knew Ranboo was a special hybrid – part enderman, part something else – looks like that other half is a Feline of some kind."

"Oh." And that just- made a lot of things come together.  Ranboo was part feline, and Ant's instincts had declared him partially Ant's little kitten.

"It's alright," Quackity had said later when he'd made a brief visit with Emperor Philza hovering at his side. "I shared Tubbo with Jack, and I'll gladly share Ranboo with you, okay? We can both be his mamas."

Somehow, the immensity of the situation hadn't settled onto Ant's shoulders until just that moment, and only years of training allowed him to maintain a professional disposition while Quackity pushed on. 

"We can have a joint custody arrangement," the pregnant avian continued brightly. "Ranboo can come home with you a few times a week – would that make your instincts feel good?"

"Yes," Ant managed to get out with a strangled tone, his voice unbearably hot. "I'd- I'd like that."

"Good," Quackity hummed, seeming just- so pleased, and of course he was, he was getting something great for one of his babies. "We already have an arrangement like that in place with FJ anyway, and I certainly won't say no to one of my pups getting additional support in this tumultuous time."

"Yes, your-"

"Just Quackity," the duck hybrid reminded him with a grin, and it was with a few dazed blinks that Ant returned to his own room, collapsing into his nest with a heavy sigh. 

That was where Skeppy found him later and the golem hybrid, being the solid protector that he was, immediately started fretting.

"Oh my god, are you okay? Did you overexert yourself?" Skeppy said, crouching next to the nest with clear worry in his eyes. "Do you need water?  Let me get you some water."

"I need cuddles," Ant managed to get out, summoning the immense effort that was making grabby hands towards Skeppy.

The protector paused, a lovely flush coloring his cheeks, and then he conceded to Ant's request, pausing only just long enough to toss his boots off to the side.

"It's an emotional exhaustion," Ant continued as Skeppy crawled his way to Ant's side. "A big thoughts sort of weariness."

"What sort of big thoughts are you having?" Skeppy asked, and for all that his tone was neutral, Ant could detect traces of concern – a quiet, muted sort of fear.

Ant supposed he had been somewhat vague.

"We need to set up playrooms in our respective suites for Ranboo," Ant explained. "I think um- I might have accidentally made us parents."

Skeppy was quiet for a moment, like he hadn't thought of that, and then Ant felt the tension drain out of him, the protector cuddling properly into his back. 

"Maybe, but I'm cool with it," Skeppy allowed, a smile in his voice. "Ranboo's a cool little dude, and I always wanted to be a dad anyway.  Now we just get to skip the diaper years." There was another thoughtful pause. "I guess that means I'm co-parenting with my dad.  Heh, Techno's going to get a kick out of that."

"You're not mad?" Ant asked, because apparently that was his number one concern with just- everything. 

"No?" Skeppy seemed confused why Ant would even ask. "I realize we haven't discussed kids yet, but uh- yeah, I'd love to raise pups with you.  I like our pack, and I'm all for making it bigger."

"Oh," Ant said, feeling just- warm.  He turned, shifting in Skeppy's hold so that they could be face to face, and when he did so, it was to find his protector smiling at him, like there was nowhere else he'd rather be.  And maybe- for both of them there was a distinct void – no matter what Ant did, he couldn't forget the crying fits he'd had over Bad during his heat – but they were enjoying what they could while they had it, and this included that.

One day, Ant would get into the true depths of his feelings for both Bad and Skeppy, but for now, he would bask in the achievements he hadn't even been able to conceive a decade ago, the idea of a family and so much support seeming utterly impossible. 

"Yeah, 'oh'," Skeppy breathed, and then he shifted forward for a kiss and uh-

Well, Ant was all about that.

He was purring when he pulled back, his instincts singing a warm siren call to get him to fall back into them.  His post heat had been a slow process, but Ponk had told him that was normal.  Ant wanted to be present though, he didn't want to miss any more time, even if everyone else gave him a pass. 

Oh Prime, he was a parent now, sort of.  A partial parent.  Ranboo needed a room of his own and toys and back up clothes and another stuffed cat so Enderchest wouldn't have to leave the castle and they needed to learn all his food preferences and he needed his own Manifold or Blade guard – Ant should probably figure that out soon – and would he and Skeppy move down to the Frost Manor, act as vassals to Josh when he took over?  That would make them counts, and counts didn't seem so bad, there was always plenty of room for advancement if that was a thing they did or did not want but maybe they'd just have a quiet life but with teleportation gates so they could still visit all their important people – and Sapnap and Karl would be allowed to visit, of course, and Ranboo would need boots and additional water resistance charms and a sibling-

Ant felt himself go hot at the last thought, for all that it hadn't been intentional.  

But just- he should have more siblings.  Little Frost-Blade siblings. 

Ant wondered if he and Skeppy would make little diamond cats.  If they'd have sparkly hair or gleaming eyes.  You never really knew what would happen when it came to bearers, what they would-

Prime, it seemed that post heat still had its claws in him, for him to be this baby obsessed.

"What is it?" Skeppy asked, laughter in his voice. "What's got you all flustered and cute?"

"Just-" Ant began instead of whining 'Skeppy', because he did that far too much and he should probably train himself out of it. "I was uh- thinking about what our babies might look like.  Our future babies, I mean." 

He was getting ahead of himself, he knew that, but he was also trying to be honest (or as honest as he could be without crossing certain lines).  They were in this together, after all, but-

But Skeppy's expression froze, something flitting through his gaze, and Ant felt his stomach drop.

"I'm sure they'd be cute," Skeppy rushed to say, recognizing the anxiety in Ant's features. "And I would love that, don't- don't ever think I wouldn't, but I..."

Ant swallowed hard, then forced himself outside the happy bubble created by the nesting heat. "Is this about whatever you and Ponk needed to discuss?" 

A beat, and Skeppy gave a slow nod.

Prime.

“It’s not good, is it?” Ant asked even though he already knew the answer, knew that if it had been good news that Skeppy would have immediately gushed to share it because they needed as many wins nowadays as they could get.

“It’s not necessarily bad either,” Skeppy rushed to say, a slight hint of panic in his toes. “He just- there are some things we need to keep an eye on, possibilities that he was uh- bringing to attention.”

“How many good possibilities could there be if he brought it up right after my heat?” Ant asked, a terrible heat burning in his eyes again.  He’d just felt so good, so happy, and now he was being dragged down again, all the thoughts from the night of his party slamming into him.  “He doesn’t think I’m fertile, does he?”

Skeppy froze, eyes widening like he hadn’t thought Ant would be able to put the pieces together, but he hadn’t been Sam’s assistant for years just by being a pretty face.  It took effort to keep up with a genius like that, and Josh was nothing to sniff at either.  Ant had become accustomed to cutting mental corners.

“It’s a possibility,” Skeppy said in a strangled whisper. “He just- with everything that’s going on, he wants us to be aware.”

“Aware that you might have a broken bearer,” Ant said, an intense well of shame stabbing through his heart with a brutal swiftness that left him lightheaded, his body flooded with a sudden cold as panic and anxiety began to set in because this was- part of him must have known and that was why he’d fought so hard to keep this to himself-

“No!” And Skeppy was right there, holding Ant close with fierce, Protector rumbles of comfort as he crushed the cat hybrid against him.  As jarring as it was, the grounding contact was an immense comfort that Ant melted into on instinct. “Not at all! Ant-” Skeppy pulled back enough so they could lock gazes, and when they did Ant was surprised to find tears in the golem hybrid’s eyes. “Don’t say that.  Don’t ever say that.  There’s nothing about you that’s broken or less.  You already- Prime-” He cut himself off with a shudder, eyes squeezed shut likely in an effort to stem the flow of tears, but it was a useless fight, a glittering stream escaping from the corner of his eye. “These past few weeks have been amazing, Ant.  And they were amazing because of you.  We got to bond, and look after our packmates together- we adopted a pup- do you think any of that would have happened without you pushing us forward?” He readjusted his grip on Ant’s hands, twining their fingers together and holding them close to his chest, as though they were making some sort of sacred vow. “You have given me so, so much.  You’re helping keep Bad safe, you helped keep Josh grounded when your grandpa kept him isolated for so long- you gave Sam a son. Just imaging any of this without you-”

Skeppy released a wounded cry, and Ant was there, insecurities shoved aside as he held his lovely protector close, cradling Skeppy’s head against his shoulder.

“There is nothing in this world that could ever undermine your value, Ant – it is inherent,” Skeppy crooned against the fabric of his sleep tunic. “You already have pups, and if you want more – want some derived from us – then we’ll find a way to do it, okay? But please don’t- don’t reduce your worth down to one thing you might not be able to do, because you mean so much more than that, and anyone who doubts that can fight the full weight of the Blade family.”

“Skeppy,” Ant said, because he’d expected maybe some resentment, or an edge to Skeppy’s tone of forced positivity as the golem hybrid tried to make the best of a bad situation, as he fought to protect Ant’s feelings because Ant was a bearer and of course they’d protect his feelings but Skeppy just- he really, truly seemed to be believe this.

And what was better than that was that Ant believed him too.

He knew he’d made Sam and Josh’s lives better because they’d told him as much themselves in that painfully blunt and awkward redstone genius way of theirs.  He knew he mattered to Ranboo because the enderman hybrid had thrown a fit until he could get to Ant when the cat hybrid needed him.  Marquess Manifold fought so hard to get Ant out of his slump, Wilbur had helped fix his makeup, doting over Ant because he wanted to- they all wanted to-

And none of that had anything to do with Ant’s ability to get pregnant.

He had worth outside of such things, and he was tired of letting jealous, conservative, ruthless nobility dictate how he fucking felt about himself. 

Jack was a bearer who had once been a slave.  Quackity was a bearer who had been abused by his first chosen protector.  Wilbur had type shifted from a protector and gone through a period of potential infertility himself.  Lindsay was an avian bearer who could have easily become an empress if they wanted, but they knew exactly where they needed to be.  They were probably the most well-adjusted bearer Ant knew, and he was pretty sure when he spoke with them about this that they’d say the exact same things as Skeppy.

“Skeppy,” Ant got out, breathless with the revelations that washed over him, the confidence and comfort and love he was allowing himself to accept without conditions.  He did deserve it.  He could have it. “I love you.”

The golem hybrid jerked back, eyes wide as a few more tears slipped down his cheeks, seeming utterly bamboozled before he eased into a grin. “I love you too, Ant.”

“No, I-” Ant cut himself off with a shake of his head, a helpless lap spilling from his mouth. “You’re right.  You’re right and I’m glad to have you by my side and I want to stay with you for the rest of my life.  Y-You and Bad, and I…”

He’d never wanted to say it before because it hadn’t felt like his place, and maybe now wasn’t the time to discuss it because Skeppy might feel obligated-

But he didn’t, was the thing.  Ant knew that now.

Skeppy just cared for him.

“I’m in love with you,” Ant clarified.

“Oh.” Somehow, Skeppy’s gaze found a way to squeeze wider. “Oh fuck, Ant.  Me too.  Me- for you-” He broke into a wide grin. “I’m in love with you too.”

Oh.

That was-

Ant now understood his shock.  He sincerely hadn’t expected things to be reciprocated in the slightest.

“Skeppy!” Ant laughed, hugging the golem hybrid against him as happy tears spilled down his cheeks. “There’s no getting rid of me now, do you understand?”

“I don’t want to!” Skeppy burst, turning onto his back so he could drag Ant on top of him. “I’m yours! I want to stay yours and Bad’s!”

“I want that too!” Ant declared. “You’re mine! You’re both mine and I’m yours!”

“You are!” Skeppy agreed. “There’s no way Bad would be fighting this hard if he didn’t care about both of us!  He just might have the same stupid obliviousness to work through that I did but with our combined cuteness, we will make it happen!”

“Skeppy!” Ant just- couldn’t stop saying his name. “I love you.  I love you and it’s going to be okay.”

“It is,” Skeppy agreed, running a comforting hand down Ant’s back. “Because no matter what happens, we’ll face it together, okay?  No matter what happens – unless you become a Schlatt-level super villain – I will love you.  Please, never doubt that.”

“I don’t,” Ant cheered. “You gave me such a pretty ring.”

“Well.” A flush darkened Skeppy’s cheeks. “Techno did the hard work.”

“Lies,” Ant giggled. “Don’t dismiss your efforts.  You did well, acknowledge it.”

“For you?” Skeppy said, the grin on his face an easy one. “Always.”

Ant felt so warm.  So truly and utterly cared for.  He never thought he would gather the courage to confess his feelings – he never thought he had the right.  It had taken absurd politics for him to get here, but in truth, he didn't even need to be a bearer to express himself – he always had that privilege simply from being Bad and Skeppy's friend.  Even if they hadn't reciprocated, they wouldn't- he trusted that they'd keep things the same. 

"I thought I would tell Bad first," Ant admitted as he snuggled closer to his fiancé, enjoying the casual intimacy they were now wholeheartedly allowed, that Skeppy also wanted. "Because I knew him first, but also I wanted- wanted to break the stereotype of bearers clinging to protectors and- you're laughing."

"I am holding back chuckles," Skeppy corrected, looking terribly smug. "But also, the joke's kind of on you for this one because uh- yeah, our little Overworld brains register Bad as a protector." 

Ant felt his eyes go wide. "No, he's a peacekeeper."

"A Nether peacekeeper," Skeppy said, as though this were an important distinction. "Dude, I've been his second for years.  It's been awesome."

Skeppy was Bad's-

That meant that he saw Bad as the dominant one between them, to the point where he had no issues bowing to someone his instincts should inherently want to take the lead from – at least in an emotional sense. 

That was- that was just how formidable Bad was. 

Skeppy's grin got somehow even smugger. "Your instincts basically wanted the biggest, baddest alpha around-"

"Skeppy," Ant hissed, feeling his face go hot. 

"Hey, I don't blame you, he's a catch," Skeppy laughed. "It was kind of a relief to defer to him, to be honest.  Trying to fight that instinct out of obligation – it gave me a headache for a few days, that was for sure-"

"I'm a stereotype," Ant complained, earning another series of chuckles that Skeppy tempered with a barrage of gentle kisses dusted against Ant's cheeks. 

"No one's a stereotype," Skeppy corrected. "But stereotypes are based on common trends, and you just happened to fall into one."

"I felt so smug," Ant confessed. 

"You can still feel smug; Bad is great," Skeppy said, giving his back a few consoling pats. "On a fundamental level, we know he can keep us nice and safe and warm, and from a more intellectual standpoint, we know that he's kind and intelligent and a good big brother – all in all, I'm surprised I didn't have to fight more people for his hand."

"They're idiots," Ant agreed, giving Skeppy a nuzzle to convey his approval of the golem hybrid's good taste. "As awful as it is to say, I took comfort in that.  It was like my own little secret, that I could see his worth even though no one else did, which wasn't actually a good friend thing of me to do- I should want him to be acknowledged- but as long as he wasn't, he was safe, and I- I didn't have to worry about how my instincts would react when he finally met someone."

They trailed off into a thoughtful silence, Skeppy adjusting his hold to allow Ant to snuggle closer, the cat hybrid nuzzling his shoulder again in another scent.  Now that his second sex was public knowledge, Ant had been weening himself off his scent blockers.  While he was afraid of what it might give away in terms of his mood, too many of his packmates seemed to find comfort from it, and besides, things seemed to be going okay now, so Ant wanted to just- exist as himself for a bit.

"Were you angry?" Skeppy asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I started courting him?" 

"No." The reply was immediate, one that Ant didn't have to dwell on or think about, not really. "No, I couldn't do that, not when I saw how happy you made him."

"Oh." 

Ant supposed that he would have expected more of a fight too.  It was a comfort to know that he could offer Skeppy this reassurance before the protector's anxiety could devolve into something unmanageable, but he'd meant what he said. 

"I was jealous," Ant admitted. "Because I wanted it to be me, and then I- I was jealous because I wanted to be involved, but that felt impossible back then, and since I'd sort of resigned myself to being a hermit of no real importance, I tried not to think about it."

Things had only gotten more impossible when Bad had been made crown prince.  They had always been out of reach, but at that point, they had felt utterly unattainable.  There had been enough going on with Sam and Josh and everything and Ant had gladly thrown himself into those distractions, but the heartache had always been lingering at the back of his mind, waiting for when he was alone and vulnerable to strike. 

"That's done though," Skeppy said, sounding just- so very earnest, like it was of the utmost importance that Ant both understand and take the words to heart. "You are important.  Back then, you were important and now you are important and you're not going to be alone again."

"Unless I become a Schlatt-level supervillain," Ant said, his heart fluttered with an overwhelming rush of warm affection.  Perhaps he always could have had this, but he wasn't going to mourn what had been lost.  He wanted to cling to what he had, which was not insubstantial in the least.

"Same goes for me too, I hope," Skeppy said, taking a hold of Ant's hand but only so he could press a kiss against Ant's knuckles.  They were no longer rough, as they had been when Ant had assisted Josh and Sam with their various redstone projects.  Now they had been treated with lotions and serums gifted by his friends and pack, and while he perhaps mourned the lost callouses, he couldn't help but think that Sam would like that he was taking care of himself. "Don't give me a free pass just because I'm super charismatic and handsome."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ant hummed, leaning forward and it was- it was easy to slot their lips together, the cat hybrid releasing a distinctly pleased purr because their gestures didn't have to be large or grandiose for them to make a place in his heart.

"So this is, uh- this is it, then," Skeppy said, a hint of nerves edging into his tone, but somehow Ant knew that the nerves weren't aimed at him, but rather something else – likely the uncertainty of their future.  Ant could understand where he was coming from – the unknown of how things would get resolved with Bad – if they would, if it could turn out happy, if they could save his reputation- it all lingered in the air, unsaid.  Deep down, there was the fear that perhaps Bad wouldn't be so glad to welcome Ant into his relationship at all, would only do so begrudgingly, but Ant tried to hold onto Josh's words.  

Bad was decent, and decent hybrids wanted to help bearers.  It might take them some time to adjust their dynamic with Ant being honest about who he was, but he had faith that it could be done. 

"It's strangely anticlimactic," Ant allowed, feeling his cheeks dust with a pleasant heat as he nuzzled Skeppy's scent gland.

Because it had been a nesting heat, Ant hadn't felt compelled to bite into it, to properly claim Skeppy as his own.  Perhaps his instinct-ridden self had understood the necessity for Bad.  He wanted to wait for the Nether Demon to be present so he could mark them both at the same time. 

Yeah, that was- woof. 

Ant would have fantasies of that, that's for sure.

Skeppy released a quiet noise of mirth. "After all we've been through, I think we deserve anticlimactic.  I like this better, actually.  This is- it feels real, you know?  No offense to Karl's stories, but these smaller moments feel more intimate than his fictional grand displays of romance." His smile widened. "It's how Bad and I did it.  Just- one day I couldn't keep it in anymore.  It slipped out while we were washing dishes and he just- he beamed at me, then kissed the top of my head, saying that he loved me too."

"Oh," Ant whispered, feeling things get all hazy with the resulting rush of affection. "Oh, Skeppy.  That's perfect."

"Worth every one of Karl's epics, that's for sure," Skeppy agreed, beaming with pride. "I mean, in a way our love story is still far too dramatic with all the potential secret wizard blackmailing and feigned social pretenses and political maneuvering, so we deserve to have some parts of that be wonderfully uncomplicated." 

"It really does feel too easy," Ant sniffed, wiping at his eye. "You weren't supposed to like me."

"Says who?" Skeppy asked, offense ringing with a genuine curiosity in his tone. "Who would dare?"

"My low self-esteem?" Ant offered. "Which you'd think after years with Sam- he was so nice-"

"Separate matters," Skeppy interrupted, his voice firm. "Believe me, I've been there.  We're both overcoming a lot of social conditioning; it's okay that it's taking us time to work through it."

Because Skeppy had been a scholarship student as well.  Had been an orphan who'd fought to create a good life for himself.  They'd both had abusive, toxic sponsors, and while Skeppy didn't escape the reach of his until just recently, such things were bound to leave a toll.  When they were seen as assets or tools to be exploited rather than individuals that deserved consideration or care. 

"Yeah," Ant breathed, squeezing onto Skeppy. "I feel bad about it sometimes."

"Me too," Skeppy soothed. "Like- I wouldn't have my dad if I hadn't been awful to you-"

"That's not true," Ant interrupted. "Techno had plans already because you're so great." 

"And Sam had claimed you long ago because you're so great," Skeppy reminded him. "We just have to trust each other."

"I do," Ant urged. "I do, I do, I do, Skeppy.  You and Bad, Josh and Ranboo and Sappy and Grandpa and- and Wilbur – you're my everything."

"Wow," Skeppy said, his pupils getting a little dilated. "That sucker punched me right in the feelings." 

"I'll sucker punch you right in the dick," Ant sniffed. "With my mouth."

Skeppy sputtered, and it was magic to Ant's ears. "I don't think you understand how violence works." 

"Or maybe I've just evolved to understand violence the best," Ant countered, slowly working his way down Skeppy's torso to the treasure he hadn't even gotten to appreciate when he'd gotten lost in his preheat.

"I guess there is a um- fine line between attraction and violence," Skeppy gasped as Ant nudged him onto his back, his mouth parting in a desperate pull of air as Ant settled between his legs. "If you think about it, maybe we need less war and more orgies."

"Except for Manburg," Ant muttered. "They just deserved war." 

"Hell yeah they did, they sucked," Skeppy babbled when Ant slowly started undoing the clasps of his tunic. "It's not a perfect theory."

"We can workshop it," Ant hummed, feeling very much like the cat that caught the canary.

"I think the anticipation might actually be murdering me," Skeppy didn't really complain, because he was smiling and Ant could smell how eager he was and things were not great or perfect or anything like he expected, but they were better, and that certainly counted for a lot.

Chapter Text

"It's too cold," Tommy complained, glaring out the window at the first flurries of snow as they gently drifted down from grey cast skies. "Ant, make it less cold." 

"I can't do that baby, I'm sorry," Ant soothed, releasing a reassuring purr in Bearer before he ruffled the blond's hair, deliberating for just a moment before he gave those small ear feathers a little scratch of their own.

Just like that, Tommy's gaze went all fluttered, the small prince releasing an appreciative coo in Avian before he allowed himself to be herded away from the window. 

"Well, someone should," Tommy grumbled before he marched over towards the blanket cocoon that Tubbo had already immersed himself in – classes completed for the day, leaving them to transition into playtime which had quickly shifted into lazy cuddle time.  

Not that any of this was a surprise. Birds tended to fly on to warmer pastures during the winter and nether hybrids didn't like the cold at all, so Philza and Techno had already warned that there was a good chance that the pups' energy would dip in the winter months.  Ponk had further assured that it was perfectly normal, so Ant allowed them their time together, knowing that they needed to rebuild what energy they could.

Comparatively speaking, Ranboo and Fundy seemed even more energized.  It was unsurprising with Ranboo, who seemed to thrive in the cold.  Fundy, they had been less sure about, but his winter coat coming in had sealed the deal, his orange fur shedding away in favor of a thick white.  Even his hair sported cute streaks of salt combed through it.  Finley had been kind enough to make a painting that commemorated Fundy's winter changes, and cooing over it seemed to make the young prince feel less self-conscious about it.  Now he embraced his winter coat wholeheartedly, and while neither of the young totems seemed to understand why it happened or why it was important, they still gave praise when appropriate, even when it was clear that they'd rather be working on their crafts or with one particular adult packmate. 

"Totems tend to hyperfixate," Foolish had explained sheepishly. "They'll get better at moderating and redirecting their focus as they get older, but for now- yeah, very much one-track mind."

That held true for this particular play session that Ant had to more or less bully the totem hybrids into taking when it was very clear they'd rather be in their respective workshops. 

"It's all about balance, sweethearts," Ant had reminded them, just as he had every day. "One game, and then you can work on blueprints and drawings, okay? But your brothers need time to bond with you." 

They took this explanation with great sighs, only to get immediately sucked into whatever game or puzzle Fundy had chosen moments later, so Ant's duties were easily done.  After that, he only had to herd Tommy back into the warm little den Josh had made for the pups when the blond avian tried to test his stamina.  Much like Philza, Tommy was a stubborn thing that tried to ignore his limits, which led them to where they were at present.

"I mean really," Tommy continued, releasing a grunt as he wiggled his way between the layers of blankets, Tubbo entirely conked out within the den's confines. "What's the point of having wizards if they can't make it warm?"

"The wizards did make it warm," Ant reminded the young prince, falling into a crouch to help the blond work his way inside, keeping an eye on delicate wings. "Their runes are what keep us from freezing entirely."

"But they didn't keep the snow out," Tommy complained. "Shouldn't the barrier protect us from that?"

"Barrier magic is tricky," Ant said, his knowledge not entirely unfounded – he'd gained it secondhand from Eret once upon a time, but Tommy didn't need to realize that Ant didn't know as much as he let on. "They did the best they could."

"I bet Foolish could do it," Tommy said – his pout interrupted by a wide yawn. 

Ant didn't tense.  He was too practiced for that. "Foolish is busy with other things." 

"What things could be more important than fighting snow?" Tommy complained, but it seemed to be a rhetorical question as he finally settled into place, wrapping himself around Tubbo as though acting at the blaze hybrid's personal shield.  

Or rather, subconsciously intent on using Tubbo as his personal space heater. 

Clever chick. 

Ant held onto that fondness rather than dwelling on the projects Foolish had been working on the past few months.  Time had flown since Ant's debut and engagement party in a rapid pace.  While matters on the personal front had gone rather well – with a stable pack environment grounding Ant's emotions, with a secured love and a secured pup and a proper nest to retreat to at the end of the day, with future plans in place – they'd made frustratingly little progress in regards to Bad's investigation.  Even with several information networks on the case, they were hitting nothing but dead ends.  Everyone that seemed to have any sort of connection to Bad's early days in the empire was either missing or dead.  The informant that had brought Bad to Duchess Wastaken's attention in the first place – dead.  The merchants with whom Bad had bartered entry into the empire? Wiped out from a bandit attack a decade ago.  Even the professors that had written Bad's letters of recommendation, the groups that had sponsored his education – all were either retired, relocated, or the paperwork missing entirely.  And while Ant himself believed this to all be intentional and malicious, the fact was that all of these things occurred during the tumultuous period of changing power in the empire, when the current dukes had risen into their positions, when Philza had assumed the crown as emperor.  It was natural for things to get lost due to negligence or incompetence, but it didn't make Ant less frustrated. 

Still, they were doing the best they could with what they had available.  Bad had been slowly but surely stepping out of the spotlight – Lady Niki appointed as the Prince Steward and taking on the bulk of what would have been his political duties.  At present, Bad was constantly chaperoned by a high level magic user because apparently his blackmailer could and had used magic, even on the day of Ant's debut- he'd hurt Bad and that made Ant burn and while he hated the rumors going around, the positive reception to Bad's dwindling public presence, he had to hope that they were aiding Bad in the best way that the Nether Demon wanted.  If he needed to not be crown prince to be safe, then Ant would support that, as much as he hated pretending to react with disgust whenever the Nether Demon was brought up in conversation. 

Ugh.  He was going to have another heat soon – had to have several years of regular heats at the very least to get his body back in equilibrium after being on suppressants for so long.  With his luck, he'd be in heat during the baby shower, but Ponk suspected that the next one would come early – his body taking advantage of the opportunities presented. Conversely, it could also be late – it was hard to tell, so Ant just tried to take things one at a time.  Things were made easier with Skeppy by his side, the golem hybrid just- Ant couldn't dwell on him too much while he was working or he'd get all ‘starry eyed' – Fundy's words, not his own – and he didn't want to give Finley inspiration to draw yet another picture of him mooning over Skeppy.

But things with the golem hybrid had been great.  They worked together to draw out wedding preparations as long as possible – clearly they had to start from scratch because it wasn't like Ant could use any of Bad's plans – he was a bearer, he deserved his own preferences to be catered to, deserved something that was entirely his and Skeppy's.  It was made more fun with Sapnap and Karl by their sides, the two shyly planning a hypothetical wedding of their own, and while Ant doubted that it would occur anytime soon, it was cute to see them dance around each other with awkward, eager fumbling.

"Dumb...snow..." Tommy grumbled under his breath as he drifted off to sleep, following the siren call of energy conservation.

They did what they could for their youngest – as the most powerful pack in all of the empire, it was expected that they would provide the very best- the most revolutionary, for those under their care.  For the particularly susceptible, their clothes were lined with fur that Techno and Philza had personally hunted, enchanted with runes that would help retain their body heat.  While winter was properly setting upon them, going outside would be unthinkable for those still growing, so Tina had commissioned an indoor play space be created for the young princes.  They had all gladly latched onto the project, and the indoor treehouse/ship/whimsical hideaway had been completed as the last of the leaves had fallen from the trees.

They all took what distractions they could nowadays.  Ant found great comfort focusing on the pups – especially Ranboo.  He'd feared how the other princes would take the new arrangement – with Ranboo following Ant home to Manifold Manor three times a week – but they'd all been startlingly fine with it.  Just- utterly unphased.

"Yeah?" Tommy had said when Ant had subtly probed him on the subject. "It's where he needs to be, innit?  He's needs bonding time with both his mums, and this way, I can get the nice spot by Wilby." 

"Self-sacrificing to a fault, you scamp," Wilbur had drawled before eagerly bundling the little avian close, and Ant just- that had been all the pups’ responses.  All of them.  None of them were hurt or thought it was weird, because for them, it was perfectly natural.

Ah, to have the resilience of pups.

If only they could all be so easily flexible, though this was an adaptability he did not take for granted.  The rapid loss of Jack and Eret from their pack dynamic had affected the pups on a fundamental level, leaving them withdrawn, and even the occasional visit to the Wastaken Estate to spend time with in-instinct Dream wasn’t close enough to what they had before to reassure them in the ways that they needed.

The introduction of Karl though – of Finley and FJ – of event Ant himself, apparently, seemed to help them a lot.  None of them could make up for the packmates that were lost, but they could be present, could be supportive, and that seemed to be enough for now.

It hurt, to think of each of these young pups could adapt so easily simply because they were accustomed to trials.  Ranboo and Fundy had been raised under Schlatt’s thumb with his negligence, Tubbo had been raised in a literal slave den, and Tommy had lost his mother (and the bulk of his father’s attention) when he was a pup.  All of them were doing far better than Ant could hope for, and together, their pack would see to their protection.  That, at least, was something they could control.

Ant smiled down at the sleeping pups, shifting into a crouch so he could adjust some of their blankets, and allowed himself to drift away, maintaining a polite distance.  Sometimes the pups just needed time to be pups, to bond amongst themselves, and Ant didn’t want to hover.  If they needed him, he would be nearby, but for now he could happily spend his time proofreading Karl’s newest manuscript.

The adorable tale of the magma cube hybrid and the humble rabbit hybrid artist as they stumbled through love together – Ant had no idea who that could possibly remind him of.  He didn’t tease Karl about it too much, too grateful to be considered a confidant at all.  He’d promised his secrecy even before Callahan had shown up and tried to give him a wide-eyed glare of intimidation.

As though such things could work on Ant.  Once upon a time, he might have been scared of Callahan, but the Stardeer had mooched too many desserts off Sam for Ant to really be afraid of him.  It just felt impossible.

The manuscript was both a wonderful distraction and a strong point of bonding.  Ant loved getting a sneak peak at Karl’s next work and was continuously and pleasantly surprised that his feedback was of any assistance at all.  If there was anyone amongst his pack and family that he felt was entirely unaffected by his status as a bearer, it was Karl.  Otherwise, Ant would have thought that the offering was an obligation, but Karl…

“I just think you’d get it,” Karl explained, a light flush dusting his cheeks as he passed the bound folder over.

It took Ant a few days to understand his intent.  But they- they both loved protectors from the Halo pack.  Their dumb, noble fighters- they loved them through and through.

And just like that, Ant found a new tea buddy, though Josh and Tina and even Niki, sometimes, would crash the affair, and while they didn’t always speak of romance, it was nice to have just- a group to share gossip with?  The likes of which Ant had only ever seen at a distance or read about in books.  Maybe he was a stereotype after all, but there was nothing wrong with it, not if it brought him comfort.

The group had been a coincidental affair, but after a few forays into public, there were some unintentional consequences.

“I’m confused,” Karl confessed under his breath as yet another group of young nobles moved on after stopping to offer their well wishes and some small talk while they were out having tea. 

Callhan had offered them the second floor of his private tea house because he was the kind of extra older brother that of course built a tea house in the most expensive city in the empire on the offhand chance that Karl might want it, but there had been a particular strawberry shortcake thing that Tina was aching for, and as her under eye bags were the darkest, they had been glad to comply.  The result, of course, was that they were more accessible to the public, and while Ant had been worried about snide comments or derisive commentary, he hadn’t expected…

“Why are we being treated like the students at the popular table?” Karl continued, his brows furrowed in thought. “I didn’t even know that was a real thing – I just wrote about it in my books to make more dynamic story beats, but this is- is that what’s happening?”

Josh sighed – a put upon thing, not because of the question, but because he intimately understood the answer to the question and likely found it exhausting. “We are some of the most powerful young nobles in the empire and we’re all gathered in one place.  As far as they’re concerned, we may as well be a faction, and apparently it’s one they want to be on the good side of.” He didn’t shake his head the way he would have before his increased etiquette classes, Ant’s baby taking after Sam more every day as he learned restraint, the blaze hybrid taking a slow sip of tea. “They’re interpreting Niki’s inclusion as an essential confirmation that she’ll take over the crown princess position soon, though with Karl present, they’ll think that Sapnap won’t be losing his crown.”

“He’d better not be,” Ant hissed lowly, feeling his protective instincts make things a bit hazy around the edges.

“It’s okay, it won’t happen,” Josh said, shifting his hand over to knock his pinky against Ant’s in a subtle reassurance. “With me finally stepping away from the Awe inheritance disputes, it is likely a matter of time before the Manifolds get upgraded into a duchy, thus making me one of the most eligible bachelors in the empire.”

“But wouldn’t Connor be too?” Tina asked, utterly uncaring of proper decorum as she heaped two more sugar cubes into her teacup. “Being heir to the Blades and all?”

“One – I’m pretty sure he’ll do anything he can to make Skeppy the heir because he’s squirrely like that,” Josh said, holding up a finger before adding a second. “And two, I’m pretty sure he has a civil partnership with Punz already, and he’s not the type to entertain small talk.” He turned his gaze onto Ant. “With you and Skeppy as the point that bonds the Manifolds and Blades together, they’re going to treat you like a future duchess, which means…” He gestured around the table. “We have a future duchess, a future duke, a future prince consort, the future crown princess, and the future Head of the Architect’s Guild all gathered at one table.” He redirected his attention to buttering one of his scones with a cool, brief efficiency. “The clever ones will swoop in while the foundation is being poured and I cannot blame them for it.  It’s an opportunity that won’t arise often.”

“Josh,” Ant said, feeling just- very fond because his baby was acting so grown up and cute and poised and good and he was so proud of him. “Baby-”

“Ant-” Josh warned, but he submitted to Ant’s nuzzles anyway, because how could he hold himself back when Josh was being so cute? “A-Anyway,” Josh said, a distinct flush dusting his cheeks when Ant finally pulled back. “With Ranboo claimed as your son, the Blade duchy – which has been known to adopt heirs much like the Las Nevadas duchy – already has a secured line of inheritance, so all kinds of hopefuls are going to be coming your way.  Your bearer status should protect you somewhat, but not from the more industrious ones.”

“For that, I have my guards,” Ant said, feeling just- very pleased by how cared for he was.

“Who’d better do their duty,” Josh said darkly, and if Ant had not claimed him as his baby brother, he might have found it just a bit intimidating.

What a cutie patootie.

"So we're a faction now," Tina said with a few slow blinks, stating what she'd taken away from it. "An accidental faction, but a faction nonetheless."

"In truth, we probably played this wrong," Josh admitted, scratching at the side of his head.  Were they not in public, Ant would pinch the tip of his horn to make him go all flushed and pouty. "Sam had said- the older generation, they were less obvious about their connections than we've been."

None of their pack elders had commented on it as they were all finding what comforts they could nowadays, but the political wheel did not stop turning for the sake of some personal tragedies.  The compromised thinking had led to unintended consequences, and while the matter was not problematic now, it very well one day might be. 

"So we've fucked up," Niki said bluntly, taking a delicate sip of her tea while Tina sputtered beside her, choking on a spoonful of cake.  The steward didn't so much as look at the cat hybrid as she thumped Tina on the back.  They were in a section of the restaurant where they couldn't be easily overheard, and Niki liked to make the most of that, indulging in a cruder, more blunt dialogue, the likes of which she was unable to use in court. 

"A little bit," Josh admitted with a sigh that he hid behind his napkin, delicately tapping against his mouth.  Ant's heart twisted in his chest at the sight, thinking of how proud Sam would have been of the blaze hybrid he'd left behind, even if that might be a low bar because Sam had been proud of them regardless of what they'd done.  They could do nothing and he would be proud because they were good, decent hybrids, and that was all he wanted from them. "We're two new noble houses – it would make sense for us to align forces, but with Ant claiming one of Duke Quackity's sons... Ranboo was never in the line of succession for Las Nevadas, but there is still a connection there."

"To the most neutral of the duchies," Niki primly pointed out. 

"And for that, we are quite fortunate, though it does complicate things in terms of royal power," Josh said. "You're the potential future empress and Duke Quackity is an eminent Lord Consort – with Marquess Techno also as a future lord consort and the Essempis losing their representative in the royal pack, there has been a distinct shift in power, and that is excluding any informal arrangements."

Ant swallowed a wince, thinking about how Wilbur had claimed him as a pup.   

Niki cleared her throat. "We haven't seen a royal pack this expansive since earlier in the history of the Antarctic kingdom – before it became the empire.  Monogamy has been a baseline for royal unions for precisely this reason." 

"But George- Duke Essempi," Ant corrected, even if as a bearer he didn't technically have to do that. "Lord Foolish is his adoptive father."

That should be a suitable connection for the Essempis, even if it wasn't exactly the same as having a proper family member in the pack. 

"Lord Foolish is arguably the weakest of the consorts with no family power base to fall back on," Josh said against the lip of his teacup. "If anything, the Essempis are technically responsible for him as Eret's widower – for them, it's likely more of an insult to injury than anything else." 

"That is... a problem," Niki said with a blink, a remarkable understatement. "The Advisory Council's so busy with other matters that they probably haven't noticed- or haven't had time to fixate on this." 

"Not all is lost," Josh said, gently placing his cup down onto his saucer. "Our predecessors understood the importance of maintaining the appearance of factions and granted, while they certainly had more, there has still been the inadvertent creation of a counter-faction."

"You're talking about George," Ant said before he could correct himself. "I mean- Duke Essempi."

"He's kept an intentional distance with the crown," Josh said, nodding in approval. "Even if he's maintained good connections with Lord Consort Foolish and Lord Connor, it wouldn't be enough to align him with our faction." 

"Because Connor was already trying to get out of the line of inheritance for the Blades," Ant said, and because Foolish had little political power.  They were seen as emotional indulgences rather than pledges of allegiance. 

"With his engagement to Lord Dream and an apparently friendly repertoire with the new Duke Awe-" Duke Gavin, and while it had been a while since Ant had seen the blond-haired creeper hybrid rather than his wife, he knew that Sam would be pleased to have his cousin take over his family line. "-they have become the Aristocratic Faction.”

"And we're the crown faction?" Ant asked.

"Without question," Josh hummed. "Of course, the honor of the Wastakens will keep them aligned with Philza so long as he does not abuse his authority, so those that hold anti-crown sentiments will likely drift more towards the Essempis and the Awes before the Wastakens, but still, as long as we keep hold of where they're being funneled, we can maintain control of the situation." 

"Holy shit," Ant said, taking all that in. "Is that why we haven't seen much of George?" 

"No more than would be considered polite or necessary to his position," Niki allowed. "He's playing it as smart as he can."

But just because he had to appear distant didn't mean he actually had to be distant.  Sam had used the secret passages all the time to connect with his friends, but George hadn't attempted to do any of that.

Ant supposed they were all doing their best to get by. 

"We have the upper hand now, don't we?" Tina asked.  She wasn't so trained that she could entirely school the concern off her face, though Karl masked it as best he could, passing over the butter, as though she had been worried about running out. 

"Technically, yes," Josh allowed. "And after the successful war and integration of L'Manburg which provided an influx of noble territories and resources, after the purge with Schlatt and his allies, the crown is more powerful than ever." 

Which should be comforting, but the empire was vast.  While they had weeded out the old generation of rotten roots, there would always be more eager to take their place.  And with so many things changing- there was a reason they were paying so much attention to the acquisition of L'Manburg.  If they allowed their focus to stray, it would be a prime opportunity for a new, anti-crown faction to take place.

Ant was fairly certain there was already one there.  Or perhaps they were anti-aristocrats, if they'd targeted Eret and Sam. 

Sam – what had he been getting up to before he passed? He'd broken Schlatt out of prison to interrogate him – why had he done it then?  Why wait? It made so little sense. 

"Which is why Techno isn't competing in the upcoming Knight Tournament," Josh said. "They'll have to give that win to the Aristocratic faction.  It might be a meaningless consolation prize, but it will keep the dumber among them content for a good while."

"And endlessly infuriate and provoke the smarter of them," Niki said, her gaze sharp. "They will need a more satisfying victory than that if we wish to maintain the peace the Advisory Council fought so hard for." She frowned. "It doesn't help that both George and Gavin are cleaning up shop.  We need to concede something." 

And if they chose what it was now, they could prepare themselves for the sacrifice rather than having it forcibly stolen from their fingers.

"I'm not sure what, though," Josh said, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. "Every hint of power we provide, they abuse it.  I'll- I'll speak with my grandfather – perhaps he'll have some ideas."

"For now, hopefully winning the knight tournament will be enough," Karl said, trying to end things on a positive note. 

Ant knew deep down that the creation of a faction was not his fault.  It would have happened eventually, but still, he couldn't help feel somewhat guilty.  Not that they existed, but that he got to shamelessly benefit from the stronger side while George and Duke Gavin had to maintain appearances. 

What complicated lives they must lead, but still, he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Or perhaps he would.  There was no cost he would not gladly pay to have his father return unto his life, there was nothing he would not give to have them avoid this collective strife.  The people they'd lost to both death and their instincts, the bonds that had been broken- he could not say that life was entirely better two years ago, because back then Josh didn't even know Ant was a bearer, he couldn't acknowledge Ant's claim.  Back then, Josh was trapped under the thumb of his grandfather, and Ant had no family that longed to claim him, and Schlatt was still in power-

There were some things that were good and some that were bad – it was simply the way of it all.  He held onto the positives that he could – like manuscripts and a warm cup of tea and a roomful of contented pups.  It was a smaller victory but still, one that warranted celebration.  Ant settled into his armchair, casting a careful glance towards the pups working on their puzzle and feeling deeply satisfied with a Finley that was sprawled out on her stomach, eyes narrowed in concentration as she moved her piece to a different spot, earning groans from Fundy and a snicker from Ranboo.  FJ, comparatively, kept glancing at the clock, eager for evening to arrive.  He really was a hyper-fixated little bean, just as Foolish said. 

There was a coded knock at the door, one that they all knew indicated Puffy – no emergency, just a casual visit – and Ant bid the guards to allow her inside, the sheep hybrid strolling into the room with a tight smile on her lips. 

Ah, so it wasn't an emergency that required immediate action, but there was definitely something amiss if it could get past her composed disposition.  She offered a wave to the pups that deigned to give her any attention and cut a direct path to Ant's armchair.  Her posture was loose.  There was nothing that indicated any sort of real emergency, but there was a distinct exhaustion in her gaze, the likes of which most of them seemed to be sporting in perpetuity.  He would be surprised if any of the Advisory Council had spent more than a few hours at their homes since Jack's kidnapping.  Other than the Wastakens, who had to take turns watching over their son and now watching over Bad, none of them could be getting the proper time they needed to rebuild their stamina. 

Puffy was kind enough to get straight to the point as she dipped into a bow. "It is impertinent to ask, my lord, but we are in need of your expertise." 

"I assume you mean my bearer expertise," Ant said, only somewhat begrudging, for all that he'd prefer it over sharing his redstone knowledge. 

"Some pack soothing would be welcome," Puffy said, her gaze apologetic. "And Duke Quackity and Lord Consort Wilbur are occupied elsewhere.  He would never ask, but as it regards your future father-in-law-"

"Say no more," Ant said, setting Karl's folder aside and smoothly rising to his feet, executing the action with the utmost disinterest to quell the anxiety swelling in his chest. "Tell me where and I'll get going." 

Puffy's shoulders eased ever so slightly. "He's in the royal bearers' first receiving room," she said, urging him onwards. "I'll take over your post."

"Thanks, Puffy," Ant said, offering her an appreciative nod before moving on, hardly aware of her taking over his armchair as he set out on his new mission.

Ant was ashamed to say that he had not dwelled much to how this all might be affecting Techno.  The piglin hybrid always seemed so much larger than life, so adaptable, so unphased, so stalwart when the rest of them were shaky.  It made sense that he might also be affected – who wouldn't be – and with so many leaning on him, it would be natural for him to crumble, for all that they might consider him incapable of such things.  If he fell, though-

Prime, he couldn't fall.

Ant walked gracefully, but with purpose.  He gave nothing away with his disposition, even if it might be notable for him to change shifts with Puffy.  Still, he could always attribute it to the whims of a bearer – he could admit that the mandated secrecy of his second sex did come in handy.  He would gladly take advantage of that much if it earned them some peace. 

Ant didn't bother knocking when he got to the royal bearers' suite.  Neither of the bearers in question were present – with Wilbur keeping Foolish company during Bad-watching duty and Quackity taking over Phil's office while the blond was in meetings.  As such, Ant was the next-highest ranking bearer who'd already been granted permission for entry whenever he so pleased, and he just so pleased to enter then. 

So that was what he did. 

He found Techno just where Puffy described – in the initial, grand receiving room.  He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the back of the couch, head tilted back to take in the vast array of art that decorated the walls.  

They were Foolish's drawings, Ant realized, the ones the totem hybrid had sketched during the war.  They were mixed in with newer ones that the totem must have made – some line drawings, some pastels that had been colored in, but all wonderfully accurate and featuring a collection of moments that starred their entire pack.  In the center of this was a now somewhat outdated painting that had shown the entirety of the immediate royal pack.  Foolish had presented it on the day of Wilbur's engagement party to Philza.  The bearer had been crowned during the post-war cleanup to avoid muddling Bad's authority. 

The urgency with which they pursued the matter seemed somewhat ironic now. 

He wasn't alone, Ant realized with a start.  Duchess Wastaken was there as well, settled on Techno's far side.  Their shoulders were pressed together and she had her mask off, balanced in her lap.  It was not the first time Ant saw her without it, but it was still odd seeing how pronounced her features were when he was so used to her stoic mask. 

"Ah," Techno said, offering Ant a weary smile. "So they recruited you too? My apologies."

"No apologies are needed," Ant huffed, cutting a path to Techno's side and hesitating for only a moment before he draped himself across the piglin hybrid's shoulders, acting as a sort of side blanket. "You're my papa-in-law, but even if you weren't, I'd want to be here for you."

"There isn't much you can do," Techno rumbled, though he wrapped an arm around Ant's waist to stabilize him, welcoming him in instead of urging Ant away. "I just needed a moment."

"You're allowed moments," Ant murmured before releasing a string of bearer purrs – offering what comfort he could – and taking satisfaction in the way Techno relaxed in his hold. "We just want to be here for you.  You're allowed to lean on us too, you know."

"It's not in a brute's nature," Duchess Wastaken said, her voice soft. "But those under your care also thrive when being allowed to support you."

"I know, I know," Techno grumbled, but it seemed to be in good spirits. "Thank you."

"Doesn't require thanks," Ant said before they lapsed into a comfortable silence.

Even in this, Techno was soothing.  They didn't need to speak to understand why they were here, why Techno had chosen this space.  It was likely for the very same reason that Karl had run into Sapnap once upon a time (and if that wasn't just the cutest first-meeting Ant had ever heard, he didn't know what was – or at least, it would have been were Sapnap not so obviously heartbroken at the time).  These portraits captured times in their history that sang of easier, happier moments – moments where things weren't as complicated as they were now. 

Foolish had also painted a portrait of Sam.  Despite everything else that was going on, despite art not being his initial craft, Foolish had made a family portrait of Sam and Ant and Josh because he'd known how important Sam's assistants were to him.  Josh had let Ant keep it in his receiving room, and in return, Ant bullied his baby brother into visiting frequently so they could both admire- could remember – how things had once been.

It still hurt that Sam was missing.  There would always be a distinct void, even if time made it a bit easier to manage, but Ant still found himself saving anecdotes and jokes for his father, eager to see the smile that they would bring to Sam's face.  He'd often find himself pulling short, and he knew from Ponk that it was entirely reasonable to still be affected by the loss of his parent and first protector, but Ant really wished- he was afraid, he knew, for the day that it wouldn't hurt, for all that he was tired of being wounded.  He feared that day, even if he knew it was inevitable, knew that Sam would want it to be inevitable, knew that Sam wanted Ant to hold onto the good times rather than his loss. 

He wondered if Techno felt the same.

"I know I don't need to apologize," Techno spoke up, breaking the silence. "Or thank you.  It's just..." He gestured towards the family portrait – a small, weak movement, as though he could muster the effort for nothing greater. "It would have been Eret's birthday next week." 

Oh, that was-

Ant couldn't even think of Sam's birthday, though he was almost certain Josh would bully Ant and Callahan and anyone else who wanted to attend into throwing a small tea party.  Small, intimate gatherings with those he most cared for had been Sam's favorite affairs, something he'd enjoyed far more than the grand banquets put on for him by his family as a means to curry favor.  That was something Ant could probably manage, but he couldn't imagine how things might be for Eret.

"George can't acknowledge it in any way because it might weaken his authority," Techno continued. "I think he's purposefully repressing it, but I don't blame him.  He's doing or not doing a lot of things with the Essempis that he shouldn't have to." 

"Is he okay?" Ant asked instead of are you okay, because it was clear that Techno wasn't. 

"Connor's looking after him," Techno sighed.  Ant had a strong feeling that the sigh was prompted because Connor was one of the few George allowed in at all.  On Techno's other side, Duchess Wastaken looked grim. "And I understand why George isn't doing anything, and I understand why we can't do anything, because we can't show anymore vulnerabilities than we already have, but it's just-" He pressed his fingers flat against his legs, using enough force to make them go dark at the tips. "He was one of my bonded, and it hurts that I can't feel him anymore.  I'll search for the connection sometimes on reflex, and he's just- he's gone." 

"Unlike actual piglins, piglin hybrids need to initiate a claiming bond to sense one another," Duchess Wastaken explained, her expression furrowed with sympathy. "It is generally reserved for lovers." 

"Non-pilgin hybrids- Eret- he wouldn't be able to feel it like I did, like Wilbur does," Techno explained. "But I could feel him, and that was- it was a comfort, because Eret always worked himself so hard and I- I felt the moment he vanished," Techno admitted, pressing a palm to his chest as though to steady it. "It was instantaneous.  He was just- gone." 

Ant swallowed hard, a deprecating chuckle ringing in his ears. ‘And it's because Eret's not dead that you won't remember it, but I can't speak for Sammydoo.’

Eret wasn't dead, he was so certain, even if he didn't know why.

"Like um- he was teleported?" Ant tried, his throat rough.

Techno shook his head. "I would have felt him reappear somewhere else.  It's not- it's a biology thing, part of the ancient magics imbued into hybrids.  It's not something that could be stifled." He released a shuddering sigh, eyes falling shut as though he bore the heaviest burden in the world. "He's gone, and I felt him leave, and I just- I miss him." 

"I know," Ant whispered, a certain heat building in his eyes as he held onto Techno more firmly. "I'm so sorry."

"It's all our loss," Techno conceded with a bow of his head. 

They fell into a companionable silence, or at least, Ant thought it was, but then Techno was shifting towards Duchess Wastaken. "Your thoughts are heavy." 

The duchess did not deny him, though her gaze darted towards Ant in- was that apology? But it was there and gone in less than a moment. "I have been investigating the- the assassination," she confessed, which was- it was fair, Ant hadn't asked her to keep it a secret and honestly, he wouldn't want her to keep it from Techno anyway, he seemed to need it. "I do not know how much I am discovering is truth, or just the over paranoid mind of someone who has lost too much, nor do I wish to stir up ill feelings." She sighed, slumping back against the couch. "I think some matters are better left alone."

That was- she was aiming that at Ant.  She was- that was aimed at Ant. 

"What are you saying?" Techno pressed, enough tension filling his frame that Ant detached from him, shifting into a wary crouch. "You can't just-"

"I'm sorry," the duchess said, and Ant had a feeling that was aimed towards him too. "To put it bluntly, I believe that it was less of an assassination and more of an accident.  A terrible, horrible accident, and nothing good can- would come from digging deeper.  Believe me on that, brother, please." 

Ant blinked, surprised by the familial address, but Techno didn't seem phased by that in the slightest.  Perhaps they had bonded as siblings long ago and maintained a level of secrecy to keep from disrupting the power dynamics of the capital (like the rest of them should have done), because if that got out- there would be no believing that the Wastakens could head the neutral part of the Aristocratic Faction.  Could hold true neutrality.  With one hand clutching onto the Blades and the other clinging to George Essempi in specific, the least-favored Essempi at the moment, it would calm none of the disgruntled old guard that had survived so many purges.

"Who-" Techno began, and Ant had never seen the protector struggle like this. "Who would blow up that much TNT on accident?" 

"Someone who knew they could escape it unscathed," the duchess said without flinching, and Ant-

He was on his feet in a moment. "Do not," he hissed, feeling his body get gripped with a horrible tension. "Do not- do not aim such accusations at my papa!  He wouldn't have- he wouldn't- papa wouldn't do that!" 

"I want to think it was a set up," the duchess said, and Techno was just silent- just watching – assessing the situation like the hunter that he was. "Either way, it is a terrible blow to the reputation of a major duchy, but these are two families that should by all rights be aligned with each other.  It doesn't make sense for them to turn on one another, unless it was- unless there was a more personal motivation." 

"It has to be a set up!" Ant snapped. "My papa wouldn't do that! Of course they used TNT to throw doubt on the Awes, because Sam should have been able to redirect it-"

"Pup-" the duchess began, pained. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought this up."

"Eret was the mean one!" Ant hissed, tears blurring his vision. "He was the one that was mean to Sam!  It wasn't- it wasn't the other way around!" 

"I know, pup," the duchess said. "I know it started that way-"

"It was that way!" 

"But Sam- he wasn't entirely himself in the end either, and I think you know that." 

Ant floundered, chest heaving and tears burning hot trails down his cheeks, gathering under his jaw and soaking the high collar of his tunic.  It was appropriate for bearers to cover their throats in shared company – to let their scent be free was reserved for their families or some bullshit, Ant couldn't remember now. 

"What," Techno began, his voice terribly neutral as he rose to his feet, the duchess following a moment after him. "-are you talking about? 

Duchess Wastaken sighed – an unspeakably weary thing, as though the weight of the world had been pressing down on her shoulders and she'd just chosen to acknowledge it. "It is a complicated matter, and one I likely should not have brought up here."

"But you did."

"You are my brother," the duchess reminded him. "You- you deserve to know, but you mustn’t- I know you have a strong sense of justice-"

"Stop talking like Sam did it," Ant hissed. "He didn't.  He wouldn't.  He promised to come back!" 

"I think we both know that Sam's sense of justice far surpassed anyone here, and that's saying a great deal," Duchess Wastaken said smoothly. "He has made many sacrifices for the sake of the empire.  It would not be surprising if he gambled his life as well for the sake of what he thought was right." 

"What are you saying?" Techno growled, and Ant had never- he'd never seen the protector this angry before. "Clara-"

"Techno," the duchess interrupted. "Did Eret ever speak to you of Sam?"

There was a hard pause.

"Nothing beyond a professional regard," Techno said. "But Sam is- was good.  I knew that, it's why I accepted jobs from him."

"Sam was good," Duchess Wastaken agreed. "But he also trained under Eret, and after a certain point, that takes a toll on someone." 

"You need to clarify that quickly," Techno hissed, his pupils narrowing into angry slits.

"You are wise, brother, surely you get the implication," Duchess Wastaken said. "Eret did the council's dirty work.  What the Wastakens and Philza couldn't even perceive, he took care of, because no one else could." 

"He-" At last, Techno wavered, anger traded out for confusion. "He didn't say.  I know- Sam mentioned that- but I didn’t think- I mean, there were hints, but he seemed more hands off.”

"It was something he acted on less when you came to the castle," Duchess Wastaken said. "But surely-"

"Yes, he- he always had an eye on things," Techno said, dragging a hand over his eyes. "I can see it.  I can definitely see it, but he didn't say."

"He likely wanted to put it behind him," the duchess agreed. "But when you are that ruthless – even by necessity – for so long, it might color the opinions of those closest to you, especially if Eret cruelly pushed them away." 

"Speak plainly," Techno ordered.

"I can't," Duchess Wastaken said. "I cannot for reasons you full well understand." Because if any of them were called before Callahan, there would be no hiding this. "But theoretically, if the empress was assassinated…" she trailed off, giving Techno a look of consideration. “You don’t seem surprised by this.”

“Sam may or may not have mentioned as much shortly after her passing,” Techno admitted, and while Ant had theoretically understood that Techno and Sam had been close, actually seeing that in action was an entirely different thing.

The duchess simply nodded, not seeming nearly as shocked by this as Ant was, and moved on. “Theoretically speaking, if the empress was assassinated and Sam knew who had caused it- or someone had made Sam think he knew who caused it but they were- they were moving freely without repercussions, interacting with wounded, precious bearers- what do you think might happen?  What do you think someone with that strong of a sense of duty might do?" 

Ant was choking on tears now, unable to speak because he knew full well what his papa would do. 

Whatever needed to be done.  Sam knew no other way to exist.  He would protect those that he perceived as vulnerable, it was simply what he did.  He'd protected Ant all these years.  He'd fought to keep Josh in touch with the engineering passion both of his parents had.  He fought for what was right; not for what was easy, but what should be done.

"You think he was manipulated," Techno said eventually, the words coming like gravel.

"That is my hope," the duchess said, her own voice thick with tears. "But until I can prove it, that matter must die here.  It must." 

"N-Never," Ant gasped out. "Never say that about my papa."

"I won't, pup," the duchess said, and somehow, he knew the words to be true. "You have my word.  It's- it's done.  They are gone and the only thing we can control is the legacy they left behind.  For all their flaws, they deserve-" She cut off with a sharp inhale, struggling to collect herself. "They deserve to be at peace at least in this; to find the peace they did not have in life." 

"You're saying Eret might have been murdered," Techno said, his voice cool. "Which means it was an inside job, if someone tampered with the follow up investigation to make it look like an accident, and that's- you're telling me to forget that?" 

"Did you forget why it might have happened?" Ant snapped, making Techno go terribly still.

If any of this was true, it was because Sam had thought that Eret had killed Kristin.  Considering the fact that he had immediately taken her place-

Ant didn't want to think that George's father might be that cruel, but he wanted to believe in his own papa more. 

"Perhaps he did, perhaps he didn't," the duchess said. "Perhaps Sam did, perhaps he didn't – we cannot know for sure."

"But you know far more than you're letting on," Techno hissed. "Starting with the existence of an assassination at all.  I never brought it up, I just assumed, but Phil doesn't- did he even know?" 

The voice hung in the air, unanswered, for to offer a negatory would be to commit treason.

It made sense though, of course he didn't know, why would he? If they thought nothing could be done for it, what would that information do for a newly widowed father? 

"Prime," Techno said with a jerk of his head, as though struggling to clear it. "Are there any other secrets that the council is keeping from us?" 

Duchess Wastaken tensed. "None that you will like."

"Fuck if I like them," Techno snarled, and Ant just- never heard him curse. "Tell me them anyway."

"Could you live with them?" the duchess asked. "It might change your view of Eret." 

"I trust my evaluation of his character, but I need to know," Techno said. "I can bury the secret even if it kills my partners' trust in me, Prime damnit, but someone should know." 

"I want to know," Ant pressed, because the duchess had always been aware of that.

She sighed. "Then we need to do this somewhere more private," she said before motioning them on, towards the secret passages, and Ant just-

He marched onwards, searching for truth.

Chapter Text

They had to stage a scene, of course.  It was one thing for the three of them to take a minor pause out of their day to have a brief conversation out of sight and entirely another to have a long, detailed conversation.  They would need a proper cover story – not just for the public – but for their families, a thought that soured something in Ant's stomach, for all that he understood the necessity of it. 

So Ant abused his new authority as a public bearer to 'kidnap' Techno and Duchess Wastaken because he just had to have their opinions on his wedding jewelry right then, and maybe part of Ant had been somewhat excited for that but he hadn't realized he'd been saving that excuse for a rainy day until he was guiding both piglin hybrids back to Manifold Manor.  It should have been less of a surprise to find his grandfather waiting for them when they arrived, even though it wasn't.  Grandpa had been visiting the workshops that day, hadn't he?  He wasn't due home until later, but now here he was. 

Was he keeping tabs on Ant's guard?  On Ant himself?  The bearer supposed that old habits died hard – it was certainly what Marquess Manifold had done with Josh his entire life, and would likely continue doing for both of them until things had settled down.

"Marquess," Duchess Wastaken greeted, her tone cool. "I see you still keep eyes everywhere."

"I have precious pups under my care," the marquess said, making no attempt to deny her claim. "I will not apologize for looking after them, your grace, though I sense by your tone that this is not the jovial visit you fed to the guards." 

"We need the study, grandpa," Ant said, knowing that the blaze hybrid would realize which room Ant was referring to. "Would you guide us there?"

"It would be my pleasure, pup," the marquess said, dipping his head in ascension before turning away without a word, which might be rude considering that they now kept company with a duchess, but Clara wouldn't call the blaze hybrid out on it, would likely take it as the warning that it was.  

This was Manifold territory.  He had absolute authority here, an authority that would never be shaken, not after the terrible attack it had suffered all those years ago. 

The walk to the study was spent in silence, each of them claimed by their own thoughts.  Ant's fingers itched with the temptation to twist into his tunic, but he didn't want to betray his anxiety.  As much as he wanted to get information on Bad's blackmailer, this was also information he had been desperately waiting for.  If his potential opposition was Techno, he needed to have his wits about him. 

The study Ant had requested was one of the best warded spaces in the entire manor, used for conversations of the most secretive nature much like this one.  The servants did not need to be informed to stay outside, simply closing the door behind them, the room falling into an ominous silence with a gentle click.  Ant didn't have to think about it much to make his way to his grandfather's side, grateful when the blaze hybrid simply offered an arm out to him, allowing Ant to duck in close.  He was warm.  Even warmer than Ant's baby, than Tubbo.  His internal flame was strong when it would have normally dimmed with age – it had to be, to protect his family for so long.

"I am glad you're here, John," Duchess Wastaken said, Ant caught slightly off guard by the use of the Marquess's actual name.  He heard it so rarely that he had little to no correlation between it and his grandfather. "I believe that you need to be part of this."

"I would like some clarification as to what this is, your grace," Ant's grandfather said smoothly, his arm firm around Ant's shoulders. "My grandson is upset." 

"He isn't the only one," Techno said through clenched teeth, causing Ant to bite back a flinch. 

Intellectually, Ant knew that Techno would never hurt him, but instinctively, Techno was a very large, imposing protector, and Ant was understandably wary of him. 

"I will cut straight to the point," Duchess Wastaken began. "A few months ago, Ant requested that I look into Sam's movements leading up to his trip to L'Manburg."

For all that Ant didn't feel his grandfather tense, there was the slightest, sharp inhale under his breath, and that one, small thing filled Ant with a deep sense of shame. "I'm sorry," he murmured, turning to face his grandfather. "I'm sorry, grandpa-"

"No, I'm sorry," the marquess interrupted, his tone so very gentle. "You've been pushing for answers for a while now, and while at first I held back for fear of adding to your burden, I'll admit that I- my overprotective nature is difficult to let go of.  I wished to keep you out of this, if I could.  It is not something you should be tainted by."

"But what is it, exactly?" Techno pressed. 

"The ugly side of politics," the marquess countered without missing a beat. "The darker side we pretend does not exist.  The side that Callahan and Drake dutifully ignore, that his majesty, the wings of the empire, must never be made privy to." He sighed, his head hanging slightly. "The secrets that are best kept by the dead." 

"We were discussing Sam and Eret's relationship," Duchess Wastaken cut in before Techno could. "And the events that led up to the end.  I... I do not like the picture that was painted, marquess, and I cannot help but think that you might know a portion of it." 

"I can neither confirm nor deny it." 

"You might want to reconsider that," Techno growled, his stance shifting with clear impatience. "Sam and Eret's accident – was that merely another secret being kept?  And if so, what secret was being buried?" 

Grandpa's gaze flicked to Duchess Wastaken, almost certainly bidding for an update on what Techno knew. 

"He was already aware of the assassination attempt and eventual success against the late empress," Duchess Wastaken spoke plainly.

"It is still amazingly fucked that you didn't tell Philza about that," Techno snapped, and if his disposition wasn't enough to confirm that he was upset, his use of fowl language was certainly enough. "I wasn’t in a position to do so, back then, but the security risk alone-"

"We thought that the assassins had been found and dealt with," Clara interrupted. "Or, we had- no, we did.  Eret was always thorough."

"Yes," the marquess said, his voice tight. "Very thorough."

"So you think it was staged," Duchess Wastaken said, grabbing onto the line of dialogue with both hands. 

"Those symbols on their chests all but confirmed that it was by Eret's hands," the marquess growled. "And when did it show up again?  When they attempted to kidnap Lord Foolish right out of a war camp.  How could anyone get that close without some kind of inside connection?"

"Eret wasn't at the camp," Duchess Wastaken said, her voice hard.

"He apparently has an entire secret organization at his bidding," Ant's grandfather countered. "I'm sure he had agents planted in the army's ranks." 

"So you thought that Eret was evil," Techno said, his tone a jarring contrast from before.  Whereas he had once been angry, now his tone was aggressive in its neutrality, giving off a hollow edge. 

Marquess Manifold didn’t back down an inch. "When enough facts add up to one thing, all that remains, however distasteful, is the only natural conclusion."

"That's a long way of saying yes," Techno growled, his arms curling into tight fists against his side. 

"Eret was- he was mean first," Ant reminded them. 

"Eret," Duchess Wastaken spoke up before Techno could. "Has been placed under immense pressure since a young age.  Despite valiant efforts to camouflage this, there is no question that it affected him in a fundamental way."

"Please," Ant's grandfather snarled. "Let's not pretend he didn't murder his own parents.  He brought those trials on himself."

"He felt that he had to," Duchess Wastaken said, as though that lone statement wasn't fundamentally groundbreaking in its own right.  "He likely thought it was the only way to protect the future of the empire." 

"I'm- I'm sorry," Techno sputtered, demonstrating the befuddlement that Ant himself was swamped by. "Eret murdered his parents?" 

"It is hearsay, nothing more," the duchess dismissed, because she had to in order to protect themselves from potential Stardeer interrogations. "Regardless, Eret and Sam were both raised into their titles at a young age.  Their relationship was- they were highly codependent, back then.  I think it warped the way that they communicated." 

"Eret took Samuel under his wing," Marques Manifold said. "And sharpened him into a tool – it was a phrase that Sam used more than once."

"Yes," Clara said, sounding somewhat defeated by this. "That's- that's true."

Even Ant had heard Sam say as much, words offered in an offhanded way, thoughtless, like it wasn't awful.  It didn't seem to occur to him that it was, but Sam was- he had just been like that.  His priorities and interests were different from most people, it was what Ant liked about him. 

"But I think," Clara continued. "Or I hope- I think that Eret and Sam were most deadly together.  They were most effective, together, and what better way to destroy a team than from the inside?"

"What are you posing?" the marquess asked, and he sounded more interested than angry.

"Confirm nothing," the duchess ordered. "But I suspect that you and Sam began investigating Eret under the suspicion that he had murdered – or arranged for the murder – of the empress.  I suspect this line of inquiry prompted a more thorough investigation when Eret pushed Sam away too many times, when Eret came in contact with a prominent, wounded bearer.  This is a theory that must stay a theory," she said, removing her mask to give each of them a meaningful look. "And I also suspect... Eret was heartbroken when Kristin died, but he was also- that year, that entire year, he seemed exhausted.  I thought it was simply from watching his first love grow a family with someone else, but maybe there was more to it than that."

"Do you think he was hiding an illness?" Ant's grandpa asked, the first to respond. "Concealing it to mask all vulnerabilities, but it affected his judgement?" 

"It is one conclusion," the duchess allowed. "But just as Sam may have assumed the worst of Eret, what would happen if Eret assumed the worst of Sam?"

Tension filled Ant's frame. "Eret would- he'd push Sam away," Ant managed, thinking about what the peacekeeper had done to his papa after the empress had passed. "Keep him at arm's length from everyone."

And Sam had- he'd been neutral around Eret, for all that Ant could tell, and then suddenly one day after Schlatt had been arrested, he had been neutral, and Ant hadn't known the difference until he'd been confronted with it. 

"They both operated in the shadows," Techno spoke up suddenly. "Theoretically, I mean.  They both- if they were the two that did that, it would be entirely reasonable for them to suspect such things of each other." 

"As loathed as I am to admit it, they would be the perfect two to aim against one another," the duchess said. "Someone used Kristin – an individual they both held dear – against them.  It is- it is the only conclusion I can draw while trusting my judgement of their characters.  Marquess," she turned towards the blaze hybrid. "A piglin’s trust is not easily earned, but once given, it is offered without compromise.  I trusted both Sam and Eret with my life, and even in light of this information, I still would.  My instincts could not allow me to do otherwise because I know, wholeheartedly, that they are both good." 

"Too many things add up against Eret," Ant's grandfather said, a statement rather than an accusation, his gaze narrowed in wait of her response. 

"Yes, I'm beginning to see that," the duchess agreed, exhaustion clear on her features. "I fear that Eret may have pushed his family too much, and now my son is the target of their ire." 

The marquess tensed. "You think it was the Essempis’ doing?" 

"They have hated Eret for a long time," the duchess said. "The greatest thing he ever did for them was produce a future child for their bloodline for them to potentially brainwash or indoctrinate.  I fear that George – as competent and strong as he may be – may be just another steppingstone to get to the future that they desire." 

"What- the fuck," Techno ground out, holding the side of his head. "Eret always seemed to have a handle on them."

"Eret maintained appearances well," the duchess said. "And it was true that they had become more cooperative with a potential bearer spouse on the line, but making George his heir was the kind of provocation that they would not ignore." 

"You think they feared that he might marry Sam," Marquess Manifold spoke up suddenly. "So they made it so that such a thing would never be a possibility." 

Duchess Wastaken gave him a sharp look. "For all that Eret made a valiant effort to hide his relationship with Sam, when Sam did things like storming around the entire castle in search of a wayward peacekeeper who had been trapped in a closet as part of an empress's practical joke..."

"They must have had theories," Ant's grandpa sighed. "But that confirmed it.  And they're so homophobic that the very idea of such a thing-"

"It fits well." the duchess sighed.

“Of course it fits well,” the marquess snarled, giving Ant’s shoulder a gentle squeeze in what he later realized what apology and support before he stepped away, earning himself some distance as anger properly gripped into him. “Prime damn- we knew someone had to be powering Schlatt’s rise to fame; to give him the tools needed to kill Jordan and smoothly transition into his place.  Sam had been so certain it was Eret-”

“Why though?” Duchess Wastaken asked, a clear alarm in her tone.

“Because Jordan passed shortly after he claimed Sam as his second,” Marquess Manifold said, his brows furrowed with a weary sort of sorrow.  “The only three that knew of it were Jordan, Eret, and Sam, and then Jordan died, only to be replaced by a self-important blowhard that eventually murdered the empress!” The blaze hybrid rounded on them, flames dancing in his hair, casually storming through that slurry of information as though it were nothing. “Are you telling me that such timing was entirely a coincidence?”

“That is not a strike in Eret’s favor, but there must be an explanation,” Duchess Wastaken urged. “What happened?”

“Because clearly you know about it,” Techno growled. “Which is more than those three.”

“Only because Sam told me,” the marquess hissed.

“But what if one of the others told someone else?” Duchess Wastaken urged. “What if- what if it was Jordan?”

“Explain,” the marquess ordered. “Of the three of them, Jordan might be the most forthright, but he was an honorable hybrid.  He would not have spread the information around unless Sam was comfortable with it, unless…”

“Don’t leave us in suspense,” Techno grumbled, but Ant’s grandfather seemed entirely unaffected.

“In theory, Sam may have acquired some information from Schlatt,” the blaze hybrid explained. “That confirmed that Jordan was- was slowly poisoned over an extended period of time.  Some experimental potions from Manburg, the poison building in such a way that it was unnoticeable until the compounding effects just-” He shook her head. “If Jordan told Schlatt- if the Essempis were in cahoots with Schlatt, using him as their tool to- Schlatt killed one duke- he even had plans to kill Quackity-”

“He was going to kill all of them,” Techno said, staring pointedly at the wall, his glare aimed a being that none of them could see. “Theoretically, Quackity may have confirmed that much.”

Ant knew – even if he wasn’t supposed to – about the two visits Quackity had made to Schlatt while he was in prison.  One that was entirely on the books and one that slightly wasn’t.  Sam had defended his choice to seek out both of them, had done everything he could to help Quackity get the closure he needed.

He had never thought, for one second, that Sam might have been working on an investigation of his own, but he should have.  Sam was not one to leave a puzzle unsolved, especially when his loved ones were at stake.

“Schlatt would be emperor, which the Essempis would hate – he’s an immigrant,” Marquess Manifold said. “But the entirety of his power and wealth came from their assistance.  There’s no way he could establish such an extensive slave trade otherwise.  The Essempis must have helped him.  He would be their puppet, to use until things had stabilized enough, and then when the new duke of Essempi’s power had solidified, they’d kill him off and initiate a new crown selection.  And that- that makes the most sense.”

“They had to reevaluate when they knew Sam and Eret were on good terms,” Duchess Wastaken said. “With the two united, they were all but invincible.  The Essempis and Awes were part of two different factions – The Aristocrats and the Laborers.  One that was pro-nobility, and one that was pro-innovation, a neutral party.  Both young dukes were overhauling their respective households, but when they realized how loyal Sam was to Eret- how much power Eret had-” The duchess sighed, running a hand over her face. “It was bad enough that Eret was on good terms with Philza, whose family they also hated.  Throwing anyone else into the mix- it makes sense.  And it makes sense that Sam couldn’t see that because Eret had continuously pushed him away.  And it would make sense that you wouldn’t see that because you are naturally suspicious of everyone.”

“I don’t think they accounted for any sort of intervention on my part,” Marquess Manifold admitted. “But theoretically, I would not have helped matters.”

“It makes the most sense,” the duchess repeated. “It just does.  Who better to strike at Eret’s foundation than an ally that he had recruited from the very beginning?”

“Who he had gone to in times of great vulnerability?” the marquess added. “Two times, Eret’s family poisoned him, and two times he went to Sam.”

Ant didn’t- hadn’t known that at all.  The fact that there had been other assassination attempts that had been covered up- he could hardly conceive the one, but Eret had survived two attacks from his own family- it made Ant wonder how many Sam  may have suffered himself.

Made him realize that the politics of high-nobility came with much greater stakes than he could ever possibly conceive.

“If they ever put those pieces together…” the duchess began. “Eret and Sam would have covered their tracks, though.”

“They must have used a process of elimination like we did,” Techno said. “Narrowing out all other possibilities, whatever remains-”

“Who even got it into Philza’s head to have consort selections in the first place?” Marquess Manifold asked. “Who got that worm in Philza’s ear?”

“That would have- entangling Eret with a bearer wouldn’t have helped them,” Techno said.

“But they didn’t know about Quackity,” the marquess countered. “They didn’t know about Jack either.  Schlatt kept both of them hidden.  It was likely the only thing he would have been bold enough to conceal from them.” He shook his head. “They tried to kill Eret, but Wilbur got in the way – he was a last-minute addition to the meeting.  They poisoned his heir, tried to kidnap his husband-”

“And you thought Eret was to blame for it?” Techno snarled.

“He had been acting irrationally for years, as far as Sam was concerned,” the marquess countered, not backing down an inch. “He had been unspeakably cruel.”

“Because Eret thought Sam had killed Kristin,” the duchess said. “But he still cared for Sam- likely thought it was an accident, maybe.  He couldn’t turn Sam in, but he couldn’t risk the creeper hybrid hurting anyone else.”

“So the Essempis are ultimately at fault,” Techno murmured. “Is that your theory?”

“We’ll need to reinterrogate Schlatt,” the duchess said. “To confirm whatever information he collected from Jordan.  To see who he was working with and-” She braced a hand against her chest. “I’m sorry.  I- I’m sorry, it’s just- my pup-”

“Our pup,” Techno said, crossing to her side. “I know, he’s in the thick of it right now.”

“And we can do so little for him,” the duchess said, voice thick with grief. “He won’t let us.”

“Have faith in Eret’s teachings,” Techno murmured, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. “He picked George for a reason.  And he has Connor-”

“It’s not enough,” the duchess snapped, digging the heel of her palm against her eye as though forcibly trying to fight back tears.

“…I know it’s not,” Techno admitted, and while Ant had seen a variety of emotions from Techno this afternoon that were entirely new to him, this weary sort of surrender was the most devastating among them, ringing close to the melancholy Techno had been wearing earlier when he’d looked upon paintings of his late husband, before he’d learned of the darker aspects of his character. “George is- he’s vulnerable now, but he has packmates.  There are some he only lets in grudgingly, but we have to hope that will be enough and do what we can for him.”  Techno sighed, shifting so he could press his forehead against the side of the duchess’s in a show of piglin affection. “We must be careful with this investigation.  We cannot undermine his authority, and we cannot jeopardize the power balance that George has fought so hard to earn us.”

“Won’t-” Ant began, tongue thick as he tried to weather the emotional whiplash compounded with the reveal of such extensive and delicate information. “Won’t they be happy now?  They’ve got what they want.”

“Were it only that simple,” his grandfather said, cutting a path to Ant’s side and wrapping a careful arm around his shoulders once more, releasing a low rumble of apology in Protector. “Sam and Eret might be out of the picture, but it clearly would have been preferrable for Sam’s Great Uncle to inherit his position.  I’ve long-suspected that he’s had some connection with the Essempis – likely aligning with them on a moral level as an extreme conservatist himself.  They won’t be able to touch Gavin, though, but that is not their most immediate problem.”

“George,” Ant whispered, tension growing in his chest. “They’ll want to get rid of him.”

“It will be difficult with him engaged to the Wastakens as he is – it buys us a certain amount of time as they try to determine a course to proceed.”

Duchess Wastaken released a small noise of awareness. “If Dream returns to the spotlight to claim George in a more substantial way beyond rumors, it would be a good reason to dissolve George’s position as heir.  They would defer everything to Wilbur’s future child and place an acting steward to rule over the family until they are of age.  Comparatively, if Dream continues to stay out of the spotlight…”

“Worst-case scenario,” Techno murmured. “George would get all the benefits of the Wastaken protection so they wouldn’t be able to directly touch him, but that could only last a few years before people begin to whisper about something going on with Dream.”

“We would have to- to make Drista our heir,” Duchess Wastaken said. “And assign Dream a march near the edge of our territory, claiming the importance of border protection from seasonal monster surges or something.  George would go with him, naturally, and they could both escape the limelight, but…”

“But that would still give the Essempis time to build a power base,” Techno said.

“And it would distance both of them from their friends and family, would isolate George even further and I- I just wish-” the duchess’s voice broke as she cut herself off, taking in a shuddered breath as she rubbed at her eyes. “I wish I knew how to bring my son back to me.”

“We’re doing everything we can,” Techno murmured. “You’re doing great-”

“I’m not doing enough for any of my children,” Clara snapped, though she did not shove Techno away. “We’ve lost allies, we lost Jack, we’re losing Dream and George-”

“You cannot give into despair,” Techno soothed, holding her close. “The war isn’t over yet.  There are still many battles to be fought.”

“I fear I may not have the strength for them,” Duchess Wastaken murmured, and Ant just, should he-

They switched into a language he did not understand, likely Piglin, and Ant found himself getting tugged away by his grandfather.  The blaze hybrid looked down on him with an expression of sorrowful sympathy, seeming to understand how Ant felt.  It was all such a mess.  His chest hurt, his eyes were hot, it was just-

Marquess Manifold took him into a room just off the study – still firmly within the privacy barriers, still a safe place to retreat while still allowing Techno and Clara some privacy.  Ant felt overwhelmed.  There was so much going on.  At some point he would have thought that he’d be numb to it, but it was as though he could feel the weight of each development intensely, the ramifications, the act that sparked them- he felt it all deep in his core, and more than that, he felt shame.

“Gran-Grandpa,” Ant managed to get out, shifting so he could properly hug onto the blaze hybrid. “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, I almost-”

“No, Ant,” his grandfather sighed. “I should have-”

“You could have been arrested,” Ant sobbed. “These stupid things we can’t talk about- the shit you did with-” He jerked his head back, but only so he could glare at the marquess. “And what the fuck did you and Sam do?  What all- did you know that he was going to-”

“No one was supposed to die, pup,” the marquess interrupted, and perhaps Ant would have shaken him off, would have denied him, were the grief not so very clear in his features. “No one was supposed to- they might think that, but Sam thought- he was always going to come back, one way or another, but something went wrong.  They think it was an accident, but Lindsay and I…”

“You think it was sabotage,” Ant finished when the marquess seemed unable to do so, like he feared such things would jeopardize Ant’s emotional wellbeing.

“Our investigation has revealed nothing,” the marquess sighed.

It just didn’t make sense.  Eret was alive, Eret was alive; Ant knew that much without knowing how he knew that much, but Techno was so certain that Eret was gone.

How could both be true?

He wondered if it was anything like removing a bonding mark, but Techno surely would have been able to feel that, wouldn’t he?  Unless Sam had found a way to remove it in one, swift move?  With Gavin’s help, perhaps Ant could go through the projects Sam was working on just before he died.  Maybe- perhaps he could find answers?

He just didn’t know.

“We’ll keep looking,” his grandfather urged, tone serious as he held Ant close. “Until we have answers, though, we will reinforce our defenses.  We won’t let them manipulate or hurt us again.”

Ant just wished they knew who they were, exactly.  Which portion of the Essempis it was, and who was a part of the mysterious group that was targeting Eret’s loved ones.

All this, and Bad was still at risk, though he seemed to be doing better nowadays.  Prime, Ant wondered if this was something he should be sharing with Skeppy.  Would the protector hurt to know Ant kept it from him?  No, he- they were allowed privacy, and Ant didn’t have to go into details, but he could at least give Skeppy a vague understanding.  Not enough to put him in danger in either politics or the law, but something.  If Ant had learned anything from this, it was just how much they could be wounded when they didn’t properly communicate with one another.  He had to learn something from all this.

But for now, he would mourn the loss of his papa.  Would mourn the trials that he went through.  He would allow himself this weakness, and then he would make himself stronger.

It was the only way.

Chapter Text

"For once, I agree with Tommy," Karl sniffed, burying himself deeper into the scarf wrapped around his neck, as though their spectator box had not been enchanted with the finest warming runes, as though their inner clothing did not feature the very same thing. "It is just too cold for this.  Who thought it was a good idea to host a knight tournament in winter?" 

"It's the Antarctic Empire," Ant reminded him, even as he discreetly twisted his hands more deeply into the fur muffler that Skeppy had gifted him.  There had been rune-lined leather gloves as well, so thin and soft that they felt almost like a second skin, but Skeppy had been so proud of the muffler – produced from fur he had hunted himself, he and Punz taking the time out of their schedules to hunt a nice gift for Ant.  It certainly fed into his bearer ego well enough. "It used to always be cold before they broke the curse."

"But it must have been coldest in the winter," Karl complained, long ears flopping down, pressing into his back as though desperately searching for additional warmth. "The snow must have been much harsher back then.  People must have died."

"I think that was the point," Ant drawled, eyes narrowing as he watched the poor horse dressage display taking place in the arena below before the festivities began. "Traditionally, they did battle when the elements were the least forgiving as a way of showing their machismo, or something.  It was why the rewards are so great, even if they have thankfully made this affair entirely more comfortable and tolerable to watch as time went on."

"Thank goodness for modern technology," Karl agreed, snuggling deeper into his chair.  Below the padding was a complicated network of redstone that acted as a heater.  Sam's mother had invented it, and Ant made a note to put flowers on her grave the next time he visited Sam.  He didn't have the emotional stamina to do it often – nor frankly the time – but after this, he really should give thanks to the ones that came before him so that they would greet him with open arms when he one day joined them in the Beyond Lands. 

"You said it," Ant agreed, wondering when the hot apple cider would arrive.  All food for their box required additional security checks, not that Ant particularly minded, considering the number of poisonings that had occurred in the past year.  The royal box sat just above theirs, and while they had been invited, Niki had thought that it might be better that they stay apart for now.  Until Karl and Sapnap's relationship was properly made public, he had no reason to join the royals, and Ant sitting apart from them further enforced his public disinterest of Bad. 

Josh would be with them, but now he was sitting with Niki as a direct counter to the box George shared with Duke Gavin.  Everything they did in these public events was a delicate balancing game.  Everything mattered, including the picture they painted.  It was all about symbolism, so even if it was dumb and annoying, they had to commit to it.  It wasn't like Ant was the only one making sacrifices – Niki had initially been slated to compete in the tournament, likely in the hopes of advancing her title into something that might perhaps allow her to marry a certain retired naval captain. Becoming the Prince Steward had not been part of her plans, even if it might technically help her accomplish that goal.  Ant would bet anything that she'd much rather be down in the ring to earn that position though. 

Tina would be joining them later – once her work permitted it – though even without her, Ant and Karl pulled plenty of focus.  As two young, attractive hybrids that were cheering for two capable knights favored by the crown, they were supposed to guide the emotional reactions of the arena.  They were, in essence, a feel-good puff piece in the making, everyone looking to the supposed 'popular kids' to see how they should interpret things – taking the bulk of the attention of those that did not look underneath.  They had the surface attention, were the representatives of the every man, which Ant had understood in theory but had been unprepared for in practice.

He thought he'd received a lot of attention at his debut, but that felt like nothing compared to this.  He was doing everything he could to ignore the eyes on him, but it was an adjustment.  He wished his grandfather was there, or that he could have stayed behind at the castle, watching the pups, but no, Ant wanted to be here to support Skeppy and the other knights that were competing.  

He was just- grateful, was all, that the maids had been extra diligent helping him get ready that morning.  He'd thought they'd been going overboard, but now he was grateful for their care.

Karl leaned over, bumping elbows with Ant. "Did you give Skeppy a handkerchief?"

"Of course I did," Ant huffed, his bearer instincts insulted by the question.

But Karl only gave him a narrow-eyed look of amusement. "Did you make it yourself?"

If Ant's cheeks burned, that was only because of the cold and nothing else. "...I delegated."

Ant had tried, of course, his instincts had wanted him to, but Sam's etiquette lessons had never covered the pastime that was embroidery beyond contemplating creating a machine for such things, and as Ant himself had never felt compelled, he just- hadn't learned it.  Therefore, his first attempt had been uh-

Well, it had been his last attempt.

Karl laughed, and Ant tried not to pout. "Don't act like you made yours." 

"I, in fact, did," Karl giggled. "It's not a complicated pattern, of course, but I did it." 

"Show off," Ant muttered, feeling his ears droop slightly.

"Ah, bud, I'm just teasing," Karl soothed. "Skeppy would have been happy with anything you gave him, you know that."

"...yeah," Ant huffed, but maybe he'd hoped that he could- like all those old romantic fairytales.  He wanted to be a normal rose of society or whatever, but it was not to be.  Maybe he would make that embroidery machine.  That had to count. "Maybe."

"Don't be glum," Karl hummed. "You'll make the crowd worried."

"I'll just pretend I'm cold," Ant declared, lifting his muffler and making a show of lovingly rubbing his cheek against it.  He'd seen more than one young noble lady glance at it covetously, making him wonder if it would be featured in the upcoming season's fashion. Wouldn't that be something?

Becoming a fashionista – he never would have expected it. 

Karl giggled as though he knew Ant's train of thought. "Enjoying showing off?"

"I have a good protector," Ant sniffed. "There's nothing wrong with reminding them of that."

"And that he's yours and no one else's?" Karl pressed with a wag of his brows before another shudder claimed him, making him burrow back in his seat. "It is just too cold." 

"You're rocking your winter fur; shouldn't you be warm?" 

"My winter fur did not account for this altitude, I guess," Karl sighed, somewhat dramatically.

And they said Ant was the diva.

"Fine," Ant huffed, sliding to his feet. "I'll go steal Techno's cloak.  It'll be big enough for both of us." 

"I'll keep the cider warm!" Karl cheered, perking up immediately, as though it had been his plan all along.

"Just don't hog it all," Ant ordered, knowing full well that it was survival of the fittest up here, as far as tasty beverages were concerned.

The responding giggle that followed him out of the box into the hallway indicated that Karl knew as much.

The sacrifices he made for friendship.

Well, it wasn't like Ant wouldn't benefit from the trip.  True, he shouldn't linger, but it would be nice to touch base with his mother.  Though Ant himself had not been present for it, there had been somewhat of a uh- very heated discussion regarding the attendance of the royal bearers.  For two individuals who were supposed to be entirely castle-bound for the duration of their pregnancies, they had both been increasingly active in the public eye.  It was all a matter of necessity – the previous plans had been put in place when things had been more stable, when Sam had been- but now things were different, and it made sense for the royal pack to use its most powerful trump card as a means to sway public opinion.  Bearers on their own were already quite powerful, but a pregnant bearer warranted even more consideration, and more than that, both royal bearers were drawing ever closer to their due dates – their joint baby shower eminent on the horizon – their pregnancies were unquestionably pronounced. 

It was due to this that the emperor had wanted to save both bearers from having to deal with the cold and violence of the Knight Tournament. If Ant was a bit cold, they – who were fostering another life – were likely freezing, especially at their higher elevation.  Still, they had won out in the end.  Ant wondered if the overall positive reception of his public debut had granted them additional confidence.  He supposed in the grand scheme of things, their lives had been relatively uneventful as of late.  Aside from the attack against Bad at Ant's debut (if that was what in fact happened), aside from the investigation into Eret, Sam, and Kristin that was accessible only to a select few, things had been coming into a steady rhythm.  He supposed that the transition from Josh to Duke Gavin as heir to the Awes had properly settled one faction within the empire.  Even if it wasn't the great uncle that had been pushing to take Sam's position, Gavin was, at the very least, an Awe who already had a creeper hybrid son who could take over when he passed.  Ant was sure that the traditionalists within the Awes would likely push for Gavin's removal as he had once been a foreign noble, but that would take a few years yet, which provided them some peace for now.  

There was a lot that was up in the air, but as far as the general public was concerned, things seemed to be returning to normal, and this Knight Tournament would hopefully provide enough positive, forward momentum for the royal pack to get them through the baby shower and the safe delivery of their pups.  Royal birthdays would follow, and then Ant and Skeppy's wedding in the spring.  Karl's book would surely be published by then, and soon... eventually, a year would pass since Sam's death, and then two.  Time would keep going by, and Ant just- he tried to build stories.  Tried to live so he could give something back to his papa when they were reunited again.

He made his way up the stairs at a steady pace, trading nods with the knights posted at each of the security checkpoints.  Ant had full access to go wherever he wanted as Skeppy's fiancé – the Blades having the full approval of the royal flock as Techno was one of them.  Ant and Wilbur didn't have an official connection yet, but they were planning to file paperwork, not only for Ant's benefit, but to give him legal standing for his new sibling when it came time to face the Essempis.  He knew that it was quite likely that George would give everything he was to look after the new pup, but he was in a precarious situation, and even if they didn't talk, Ant wanted to give what backup he could to the other feline hybrid, give the assistance he knew his mother could not.

Josh was doing okay.  Skeppy was doing okay.  Grandpa was doing okay – they would be fine.  They would all be-

"Oh," a guard said outside the royal spectator box, and Ant realized belatedly that it hadn't been one of the guards currently stationed outside the doors, but rather a guard escort, much like the one that had silently accompanied Ant on this trip.  An escort that was accompanying- "Greetings, my lord," the two guards offered, dipping into respectful bows. 

Ant held still as his own guards offered their greetings, the bearer doing whatever he could to school his reactions.  His eyes felt hot, and he fought to hold onto his anger.  

It was difficult though, when the predominant feeling he was claimed by was sadness. 

"Ant Frost offers his greetings to his majesty Foolish, the light of the empire, and his royal highness, Prince Bad," Ant managed to get out, dipping into a light curtsy.  It was odd, after bowing for all these years – he and Wilbur had commiserated over it more than once.  As a bearer, he could still technically bow if he so chose to, but grandpa had thought that this would help distinguish Ant's old status from his 'new' one.  Wilbur had done the same thing, and they often grumbled together about how silly it all was.

"Rise," Foolish said.  He did not flap his hands in that nervous way he normally did when he thought that everyone else was overreacting, as though he did not possess one of the highest stations in the empire.  If the war and Jack's kidnapping had done anything, it seemed to have hardened Foolish, who stood with a cool resolve that made Ant think of Philza. The cat hybrid did not have long to dwell on this before Foolish was easing into a smile that broke the mask of that unrelenting warrior. "It's good to see you, Ant.  To what do we owe the pleasure?" 

"And you as well, your majesty," Ant said, offering Foolish another slight bow – just the barest dip of his head.  They might only be putting on a show for their guards right now, but with many of the high-ranking knights competing in the tournament, they had to be especially careful to maintain appearances, even in a private hallway. "I had been hoping that Marquess Blade may have brought an extra cloak." 

Foolish barked out a laugh, the sound sudden enough to startle Ant, and the widening of Foolish's eyes indicated that he must have thought the same. "I'm sure he brought several for these such instances," Foolish said, seeming a bit proud. "His warmth is in high demand." 

"Will he be okay, though?" Ant asked, struck with a sudden fear.  He knew that Sapnap had a specially designed lining to his clothes to help him maintain his internal heat as Nether hybrids were especially susceptible to the cold, and Techno – for all that they perceived him as impenetrable – was not excluded from that. 

Foolish's smile softened somewhat. "He's fine, pup, but be sure to fuss over him, would you?  He'd appreciate it." 

"It'd be my pleasure," Ant said, clinging to the pleasant dialogue with desperate hands.

There was a light tension in the air as the last person present continued to remain silent – as he was purposefully excluded from the conversation, as though he wasn't even there.  Ant's bearer instincts longed to cling to him, to check that he was okay, to see if he was too cold.  To scold him, to yell- but he kept his focus on Foolish. 

At least, until Bad cleared his throat.

Ant jerked his head towards the Nether Demon, incapable of doing anything else, and felt his eyes burn.

"Greetings, Lord Frost," Bad said, offering the bow of a protector that was in clear apology – something that Bad technically should not have to do, but could offer to a bearer if he wished, especially if he wanted to mend fences. "I'm glad we can be of service to you."

Ant shouldn't be angry with Bad.  Bad was a victim, if what they suspected was true.  He was no different from Skeppy or Ant himself.  They were all youths that had been exploited by others, who happened to stumble into positions of authority, but-

But Ant was just- mad.  Mad that Bad would push Skeppy away, mad that he would take this upon himself- he was just frustrated, and found himself baring his teeth on reflex.

Bad immediately jerked back, gaze widening with surprise, and Ant forced his head to the side, trying to take a few deep breaths to settle the rush of adrenaline that surged through him. 

"Sorry, your highness," Ant said, sounding not at all apologetic to even his own ears. "It seems I have a rather one-track mind at this point."

"Then we shall no longer keep you waiting," Foolish said, neatly stepping in. "Please, follow us inside."

"I'm thankful for your consideration," Ant murmured, dipping into another curtsy as he followed Foolish inside.  

He could sense Bad linger, the Nether Demon following in last as per the unspoken etiquette as someone who had just been spurned by a bearer.  It was almost certainly something that would be noted.

His chest hurt.

Ant shifted his focus.  He was walking back into the public eye, and while it would help Bad if Ant still appeared upset, the level of wounded he presented was something he needed to take care with.  For nobility, everything was a show, every event a battle.

Ant just wished he was less tired of fighting them.

Prime, hadn't he just been thinking about how uneventful things were?  He really needed to get his head in order.

It was just hard, though, having brief contact with one of his claimed that he had to publicly distance himself from for reasons that weren't acceptable for his instincts.  He couldn't even keep a piece of Bad in his nests because he needed to school his instinctive responses, and perhaps there was a resentment there that led Ant to being just- so mad.  Bad was just a convenient target for Ant to aim his frustrations at when the idea of his blackmailer was unconfirmed.  It felt right, but without no solid knowledge, Ant's feelings settled for the next best thing, which was unfortunately Bad. 

It brought Ant back to a conversation he'd had with Sapnap, the aftermath of one of Ant's visits to Karl.

"...you won't hate him, will you?" Sapnap asked, his brows furrowed in concern. "I know it's not- it's none of my business.  I'm just worried.  They separated me from Dream to save us on an instinctual level; I'm just worried about you, since you have to maintain this for appearances."

Ant had waved him off then with some cuddles and a few purrs of Bearer reassurance, but that had also been a concern that Ponk had raised.

"Ideally, you would have some visits to solidify your bond, to reassure you on an instinctual level that things are okay so that they won't buy into the story that you're selling to everyone else."

But Ant couldn't do that, not if he wanted to keep Bad safe, and he knew he was supposed to be entirely honest with Ponk, but with so much going on- the doctor looked so stressed lately, and he'd just- he'd done much harder things in the past.  Surely, they could get through this too.  They had to be making some kind of progress. 

Ant held onto and brushed aside these thoughts as best he could as reemerged into the sunlight, forcing a pleased smile into place as he offered a bow to the royal spectators.

"Ant Frost greets the wings of the empire, Emperor Philza, Lord Consort Wilbur, his grace Duke Quackity-"

"That's very kind, baby, but you don't need to continue," Wilbur said from where he was firmly bundled up in his own chair that was positioned deeper in the box, providing more shelter from the bitter winds.  Quackity mirrored him on the other side of the box with a very protective Philza wrapped around him, his pupils narrowed into angry slits as he considered their surroundings with a heightened interest.  

Alright, so, not a good day for the emperor.  Good to know.

Ant offered one last curtsy in greeting before he cut a path to Wilbur's side, his mama gladly leaning into the firm warmth of Techno who was posed beside him. 

"Thanks, mama," Ant murmured, kneeling beside the chair in a show of deference. "I wanted to check on you two.  I know you don't do well in winter." 

Wilbur released a warm laugh. "Trust that my protectors have overcompensated accordingly," he said, holding up a muffler of his own. "I can't so much as think of being cold, and I'm doing much better than Quackity." He motioned over to the other side, where Foolish had moved to cuddle Quackity's free side, and beyond them, Bad was- "He's not cold, just tired from constantly reassuring Philza that he’s fine, and now Philza's worried that a potential nap might lead to hypothermic death or something- which is a fair trauma response, but hard on a little ducky who misses his caffeine." 

"I'll save him later," Techno rumbled, offering Ant a gloved thumbs up. "Though you'll have to suffer Philza's fretting." 

"I'll make him feed me lunch – that should distract him," Wilbur mused before his expression saddened somewhat. "I know he's doing his best, but all these outings – they've been necessary, but they're taking a distinct toll on Phil's nerves.  And that's without all the pup drama." 

"Ah," Ant said with a blink. "I suppose you have the duty of worrying after all of us." He winced. "That uh- must be a headache." 

"To say the least," Wilbur sighed. "Half the time, George will only talk to Foolish, though sometimes I can get updates from Clara.  Dream is- well, you know.  And then there's the thing with you and- well, you know that too." Wilbur sighed. "Someone attempted to target Fundy, which means I now worry about the other young ones being targeted, we have two new very precocious pups in our midst- honestly, the only one who seems to be doing alright is Sapnap and Karl, and that's entirely because of Karl." 

"I can't wait for them to get married," Techno murmured, nuzzling his husband's head. "I mean- if they- I support them no matter what."

"They know that," Ant said, a genuine smile pulling at his lips.

"They really are a comfort," Wilbur sniffed. "A nice distraction from whatever's going on with Foolish, but that- that's not your concern."

"Is Foolish okay?" Ant asked. "Does it have to do with-"

"No, it's something else," Wilbur interrupted, removing one hand from his muffler to take Ant's hand in his own. "I think George knows more about it, but he's so busy, it's been hard to pin him down.  And even if I did pin him down, Eret trained him so well that it's impossible to get anything out of him." 

Ant wondered for a second if George knew.  If he was aware of anything that happened between Eret and Sam.  He had been recruited as Eret's assistant straight out of secondary school – if anyone had witnessed anything, if anything knew anything, it had to be him, right?  But George was- he was in such a delicate situation.  If anyone contacted him, it would have to be Duchess Wastaken, who'd at least have a valid reason and wouldn't risk jeopardizing the balance of factions within the empire.

By virtue of necessity, Ant could not be too intertwined with the investigation.  It would pull too much focus, so his job had been to provide distractions, for all that it sat poorly with him. 

"But that's not your problem," Wilbur said brightly, deftly changing the course of the conversation. "Now, did you just come to check in, or..."

"Don't be so smug," Ant huffed, and if his cheeks filled with warmth in response, that was entirely due to the cold and no amount of embarrassment on his part. "I may or may not have come to see if Techno had an extra cloak."

"Oh, you did, did you?" Techno asked, excitement clear in his tone as he puffed up with pride. "I may have brought a couple... or five." 

"He likes being prepared," Wilbur whispered, throwing Ant a wink while the cat hybrid choked on that knowledge. 

"You're free to snag one of them, if you like," Techno continued, clearly pleased with this development, which was enough to deem this entire venture worth it. 

Just- it had to be worth it.

"I would," Ant said, allowing his pleasure to show on his face when the marquess bustled over to a storage trunk being guarded by a servant.  It was nice that he could make Techno feel good too, and maybe there was still that part of him that was bitter that he hadn't been as effective at it when he was passing for a peacekeeper, but he had to remind himself that he had been intentionally trying to avoid focus.  That was an important factor. 

"Make sure you stay warm, okay, baby?" Wilbur ordered. "And even though Skeppy can't win, know that he and Techno practiced safely throwing his fight.  It'll look rough, but he'll be okay."

"I wish he could win," Ant grumbled, leaning into his mother's attentions.

"And I wish Techno could compete and put them all in their place, but we must offer the Essempis something," Wilbur comforted. "So cheer up and put on a wonderful show of being worried, but don't actually fear anything, because he'll be fine." 

"Right," Ant said, trying to harden his resolve.  He had been already been briefed on this, but he could admit that the anxiety was getting to him.  He couldn't wait for this day to be over – then he wouldn't have any public appearances until the baby shower.

"One cloak, just for you," Techno cheered when he returned. "Would you like help carrying it back to your box?" 

"Please," Ant said, face feeling hot when two servants had to work together to handle the load.  It was hard remembering that he was allowed to be publicly spoiled when he'd gotten so used to Sam's private care. 

But he was a Manifold and a future Blade and maybe also duchess so he needed to act the part, if only to protect the authority that would defend his family.

"Take care, pup," Wilbur offered with a warm smile. "The festivities will begin shortly."

"You too, mama," Ant said, offering one last curtsy before he moved on.  He didn't glance in Bad's direction, even though he wanted to.  He was mad, but despite that, he took comfort from how much more rested Bad seemed, how- he couldn't say peaceful, but resigned, perhaps?  Peacefully resigned? 

Ant really shouldn't dwell on it, it wouldn't help him, but he couldn't entirely help it. 

The trip back down to his box was blessedly uneventful, proving that their security hadn't been compromised.  Any of the higher-ranking knights the aristocratic faction had would be far down below in the stables, leaving their less capable members among the knights that were guarding the event.  That meant that the opportunity for inconvenient infiltration was greatly minimized.  Otherwise, Ant wouldn't have risked this trip on his own, but with his normal guards behind him and everyone's attentions focused elsewhere, the bearer of the Manifold Estate was able to complete his trip in peace.

When he returned to his box Tina was there, chomping down a bag of what seemed to be warm, candied pecans.  Karl was curled up around a mug of warm cider, looking cozy and smug as could be, and Ant fought to not roll his eyes.  Even if it might have been offered in friendly jest, there were too many gazes on them to risk such things, so Ant plastered on a serene smile instead, motioning for the servants carrying the cloak to arrange it on the chair.

"You did it!" Karl chirped, tugging Tina out of her own seat to allow the servants the room that they needed. "How many extra did he have?  Please say four."

"It was five," Ant offered sweetly, grin widening at the low string of Karl-curses (which weren't actual curse words) that Karl muttered under his breath. 

"Sucker," Tina laughed around a mouthful of pecans. "There's being overprepared, and then there's Techno being overprepared – you should have known better than to bet against me."

"What did you win?" Ant asked as the servants moved away, falling back to their familiar positions against the back wall, allowing Ant to settle in.  The seats they had were not the traditional grand thrones that the royal pack was using up above, but things that could be modified to best suit their needs.  As such, it was all one piece rather than individual chairs, and the servants had shifted the arm rests up so that it was one long bench for them to share.  Ant's instincts loved it, which may or may not have been the point.  Without waiting for their feedback, he took his place in the middle, ready to be cuddled.

"A character inspired by me will now appear in his newest novel," Tina bragged, gladly claiming a spot on Ant's left and cuddling into him, dragging Techno's cloak around the them like a giant blanket.  Karl did the same on his other side. "If he won, I would have had to add a statue of him to one of our next build projects."

Ant was fairly certain that Tina was going to do that regardless, likely at Finley's request, who seemed determined to build statues and make paintings of all of them.  Right now, she was very much into pottery though, and while exploring that medium resulted in some garments that could never be used again, Ant did love how well she was fed with praise whenever they used one of her dishes at dinner. 

"I can't even make her a dumb character," Karl didn't quite complain because he actually adored Tina. "She had to be cool – Tina negotiated that beforehand."

"Your statue was going to be cool," Tina reminded him. "Very dapper.  I don't know what you're complaining about."

"He just likes to complain," Ant said, giving Karl's shoulder a light nuzzle. 

"We all do," Karl said brightly, leaning back with a contented sigh. "Look at us – we couldn't be more a part of the crown faction if we tried." 

"I suppose that's true," Ant said, looking down in where they were obviously claimed in Techno's colors – the colors of Ant's future husband's house.  It made him feel safe and protected and warm, even if that security might be more of an emotional illusion rather than a true shield against the world. 

Prime, just let them get through this day.  He would feel a lot better when it was over and he could cuddle Skeppy in their nest afterwards.  They could go back to the Blade Estate so Skeppy could properly recharge in that pretty diamond bed he loved so much but would never risk gushing over.  Ant suspected that deep down, Skeppy still felt like he didn't deserve it. 

But they would fight against that in time.  Together, Skeppy's pack would raise him up, but Ant knew that would be easier when Bad was free of whatever chains weighed him down. 

"They're lucky to have us," Tina sniffed, likely in an effort to bring a more jovial atmosphere, and it seemed to work.  At the very least, it kept things positive until the actual tournament began. 

Phil managed to pull himself away from Quackity long enough to give a proper beginning speech, and then Grand Marquess Pete took over as the tournament announcer with Puffy by his side.  Their voices were amplified by magic runes that had been imbued throughout the entirety of the arena, things that had been etched slowly over time decades ago.  Philza had commissioned additional runes and redstone for the sake of temperature management so that others beyond the nobles in the box seats would have a chance to stay warm (apparently this had not been a priority of Phil's parents).  It made for a cheerful atmosphere as the first round of matches began. 

It was a tournament style bracket.  The knights had already gone through a level of preliminary testing to select only the most qualified candidates.  It made sense, as this was one of the empire's most prominent and noble traditions.  Even if the surroundings became less arduous to compete in over the years, the bracket winners still earned substantial rewards.  Aside from a raise in their social standing, there was money, promotions, land, titles, and honor at stake.  A knight that was successful could use this as an opportunity to launch into a new career or to form an alliance via marriage after catching the eye of nobles that may not have paid heed to them before.  And the tournament winner... they were allowed to make a request directly to the emperor itself that went beyond the defined rewards offered to those that placed below them.  If they wanted a certain piece of land or a job or wished to ask for the hand of someone slightly above their standing whom they would not have been able to reach otherwise, that was the time to do it.  The Advisory Council was somewhat wary of allowing a member of the Aristocratic faction to have such power.  Ant knew that Duchess Wastaken had been tempted to plant seeds of ideas for more manageable rewards they could request, but it was the one aspect of this affair that was truly out of their hands.  

Ant could only hope that they would ask for something petty, but the public opportunity to attack the crown faction would be too tempting to pass up.  Part of Ant wanted to press that his anxiety was simply making things seem worse than they were, but he couldn't know that until it was over, and it would take his fiancé losing to get there, and it was all-

Ugh, he was just glad he could get steady cuddles right now – that was something.

"And so it begins," Karl murmured under his breath as the first set of contestants took to the arena.

"I hope they don't bleed too much," Tina muttered, making Ant tense because was that- was that a legitimate concern?  Was there going to be blood?

"I thought they were using wooden weapons," Ant said, because there was having a trial of the finest the empire had to offer in the harshest conditions to prove their worth, and then there was actively sabotaging the empire's future by potentially harming warriors in a substantial way during non-emergency situations, and somewhere along the line the rulers of the empire had decided to be a bit less stupid, replacing the actual weapons with wooden training tools enchanted with runes for durability.

"They are," Karl said as Duke Wastaken called the match.  It was between a McChill and someone else.  Ant only made note of it as Iceologer hybrids were comedically rare in an empire that had been founded in an icy wasteland. "But if a knight has aura, that can still cause a lot of damage, and many of the knights that qualified for this competition do." 

"It seems to have become more common nowadays, which is an amazing feat," Tina added, gaze narrowing as she nibbled on another handful of nuts. "Though I suspect a lot of that has to do with the war." 

Karl's ears drooped. "I know we had the upper hand in that, but even so, Sapnap still has nightmares about it sometimes.  It must have pushed a lot of them to work harder." 

"Regardless, most of them are aura users, and in the hands of an aura user, even a wooden weapon can be dangerous," Tina said, knocking her shoulder against Ant's. "They won't start off with that stuff straight out the gate – some of them won't need to – but later on, the more desperate... yeah." 

"Light," Ant grumbled, leaning into her side. "I can't wait for this day to be over."

"I can't either," Karl sighed, and then they winced as far down on the fields below, McChill disarmed his opponent in a way that almost certainly sprained or broke their wrist.

The crowd cheered, and Ant sighed. "I will never understand arena sports."

"I've heard good stories about the summer games," Karl offered. "With the races and stuff.  The high jump."

"The flying course everyone pretends they allow Phil to win but he really does wipe the floor with the rest of them," Tina giggled. 

"Bet the Wastakens could out-fly him," Ant muttered before he paused, furrowing his brows. "Wait, can they fly?"

"I was about to ask you that," Karl said, giving him a strange look. "Is that like- a family secret?" 

"...I feel like that's true, but I don't know for sure," Ant replied before giving up with a shrug.  He had faint memories of that from somewhere, but it was a hazy thing, so it was likely just a random conjuring of his mind.

Must be all the stress.

"And that's how rumors get started," Tina said, smiling wide.

"Both of you shut up, Sapnap's coming out," Karl said, his posture going tense. "Oh my gosh, he's so handsome, so dapper, don't you see how handsome he is?"

"Careful Karl, you've got stars in your eyes," Tina drawled, but the bunny hybrid ignored her, the entirety of his attention on the blaze hybrid far below.

Ant could admit that he was invested as well.  Sapnap might not be as much of his baby as Josh and Ranboo were, but Ant still cared for him and couldn't help but worry, even if he knew of the blaze hybrid's capabilities.  The protector quickly demonstrated as much, disarming his opponent before they could even think to use aura, sparking a ripple of cheers throughout the crowd.  Sapnap and Skeppy had been posted at completely different sides of the tournament bracket to minimize the odds of them having to go up against one another.  Even if they were both throwing the fight in the end, it would be the best set up, they didn't want to create a situation where the might of the crown was compared against the might of the Blades.  Even if they were on friendly terms, even if this was a supposedly harmless exhibition, people could still use that as a means to spark discontent, especially among the commoners, so it was better not to risk it at all.  Punz, as a member of the royal guard, had been placed in the third bracket for just such reasons. 

"Let's hope all the matches go like this," Tina muttered under her breath. "Just an afternoon of quick disarmaments.  I don't care how boring it would be for the history books and newspapers, it would be great for my nerves."

"Preach," Ant sighed, waiting for the next set of contestants to take the stage. 

Even with a scattering of familiar, fond faces amongst the winners, Ant couldn't quite stifle the nerves churning fiercely in his chest.  While it was a relief to finally get his eyes on Skeppy when the golem hybrid appeared for the last round, and he knew how strong his fiancé was, he just-

"Get him, Skeppy!" Ant cheered, on his feet in an instant, his hands braced against the balcony of their box seat. "You can do it! Good, good, fight, fight!" 

"Ant," Karl wheezed, the bunny hybrid having come up beside him.  Behind them, Tina seemed to be choking back laughter. "You don't want to distract him."

"I won't," Ant said, the entirety of his focus narrowing down to the handsome protector far on the field below, Skeppy pausing his advance to offer Ant a wave that the cat hybrid furiously returned.  The handkerchief that he'd commissioned was tied around Skeppy's wrist, and now more than anything else did Ant wish that he'd made it out of a brighter material so everyone would know who Skeppy belonged to. "I am the least distracting."

"Then maybe sit down," Karl said, voice strained, like he was struggling through a cough or something, Ant didn't know, he couldn't spare a lot of attention for him.

"Never," Ant said, hands curling more firmly into the rail. "I can't miss this." He widened his stance, firmly planting himself in place in the instance that Karl might try to pull him back, and focused on the action below. "Fight-fight-fight-kill-kill-kill," Ant chanted under his breath, claws extending in anticipation. 

Karl wheezed. "You are- you are so cute."

"I know," Ant said distractedly, teeth bared once the battle began.

Skeppy won, of course.  Quickly, of course, and Ant jumped up and down, cheering in celebration.

"He did it!" Ant yelled, in case anyone had missed it because this was a very important thing that they really should be paying attention to. "He did it! He won! He's the best!" 

"He- he did very well," Karl agreed, because Karl was wise. "Now maybe sit down so you don't get cold." 

"I can't get cold, I have love on my side," Ant said, trading some more enthusiastic waves with Skeppy before he allowed himself to get ushered back onto the bench. "Heh-heh-heh," Ant chuckled under his breath as they got cozied up again. "Did you see how fast he was?  He was so fast.  So good.  Clearly the best." 

"He does Techno proud, alright," Tina agreed, looking smug for some reason. "Now maybe restrain yourself a little bit, Sapnap's coming back on the field." 

"I'm sure he'll be very inspired after watching Skeppy," Ant agreed. "There's no way he can lose."

"Yeah," Karl said, sounding a bit nervous. "That's the hope." 

That was the hope.

But maybe it was not meant to be.

It took a few minutes for the haze of Ant's instincts to settle enough for him to analyze what was going on, and later, he might be a bit embarrassed by his display, but now he was too focused on Sapnap and the fact that he wasn't exactly winning.

The first string of matches had gone by quickly, easily determined by who had the superior sword technique, allowing for quick disarmaments or blades poised against vital points.  Here and now though, it seemed like Sapnap and the ice hybrid were evenly matched in terms of training, and the moment aura came into play-

"I- I thought Sapnap had a strong aura," Karl whispered, his voice wavering slightly. "But it seems like-"

"It's winter," Tina whispered. "He's a Nether hybrid going against an ice hybrid.  Even though he has a strong explosive core, he was always at a disadvantage."

"I don't understand," Ant murmured. "I thought Sappy wasn't supposed to lose until later."

"He wasn't," Karl said. "He wasn't-"

"Get your shit together guys," Tina murmured, taking a slow sip of cider, acting as though she were bored. "People are watching.  Even if he loses, we can't be affected by it."

It was hard not to be though, when their auras blazed so bright, clashing against each other with sparks of energy that almost seemed to shake the protective barrier that surrounded the arena itself.  Ant had watched a few of Sapnap’s training sessions – had even caught one the blaze hybrid shared under Techno’s tutelage.  He knew exactly how powerful Sapnap could be – knew that the prince had redirected an explosive trap during the Manburg war that had saved an entire contingent of Antarctican knights.  Sapnap was strong and well trained enough to not allow any effort to show on his face, but here and now, Ant couldn’t help but be worried.

That was another component of battle that Techno emphasized, even Ant knew that.  Knew it from listening to both Sapnap and Skeppy.  Half of the battle was mental, and if absolute victory was off the table, it was important to claim wins in what areas were available.  Striking down an opponent’s mental fortitude by maintaining a bored disposition was part of it.

Sapnap didn’t seem to be straining under the weight of the battle, but- 

"He isn't going to win," Karl declared suddenly. "He's not- he can't-"

"He's trying to tire McChill out," Ant realized. "That's why he's still going so hard.  He's not trying to save face; he knows he can't- so he's making McChill work for it."

It seemed like the kind of thing Techno would encourage.  Sapnap had to put on a good showing for the royal princes, but anyone with sense could tell that he wasn’t going to be able to win this fight.  That wouldn’t stop the more clever among them using a loss as a means to disparage Sapnap regardless of whether the odds had been stacked against him or not, but the commoners would be amazed by the skill of their prince, and Ant was sure that George would have the papers print stories that painted Sapnap in a flattering light.  Even if he was in a faction that was technically against the crown, the elite would see it as George earning brownie points to exchange for future Essempi benefits.

"Good," Karl said, adopting an expression of pride for all that Ant could feel his hands shaking. "That's my guy." 

Sapnap lost a few minutes later, but if he was heaving for breath, McChill was too, and that was enough of a victory for Ant.  The blaze hybrid offered his opponent a respectful nod before giving the crowd a large smile, waving to the reception of loud cheers.  He might have lost some point with the nobles, but with the commoners he was a valiant fighter and a good sport, and that was all that mattered.

"I'm going down to meet him," Karl declared after they had allotted the appropriate amount of time for clapping. "Will you guys be- is that okay?"

"It's fine, just be sure to take him by his moms too," Ant reminded him. "They'll be worried, but they can't go anywhere anytime soon." 

"Good point, thanks," Karl said, and then it was just Ant and Tina sitting with the knowledge that their side might not be as unshakeable as they had once thought. 

"Skeppy's not a Nether hybrid," Tina reminded him softly between rounds.

But he still had to lose at some point though, and Ant didn't think he would be prepared when it would finally happen.  Just- what little he had seen when things had gone well had been terribly intense.  He wasn't sure how he would react if he had to watch Skeppy get hurt.  He'd had plans, but now that he was allowed to publicly act on his instincts, he didn't seem to have any kind of restraint. 

But maybe that had been- maybe that was just a first round thing.  It was Ant's first time watching Skeppy compete as his fiancé.  Surely, the immensity of it would lessen as time went on.

Chapter Text

Ant's instincts did not settle down as time went on.

He thought that they would, but watching Skeppy continue to succeed only seemed to lower his inhibitions, and he was fairly certain that he was affecting Skeppy too. 

"Let's go to the royal box for a snack break," Tina advised when Grand Marquess Pete had called for a pause in the tournament to allow everyone time to recover.  With the competition narrowing down, the knights had less time to relax between bouts, so this would give them an opportunity to rest while letting any antsy audience members stretch their legs.

"Fine," Ant sighed, because he guessed that was better than staring at the tunnel that Skeppy had retreated back into after he'd won in the hopes that the golem hybrid might duck back out and allow Ant another glimpse of him, even if that was something Skeppy had literally never done throughout the duration of this competition.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm the worst," Tina sighed before ushering him onwards.

It wasn’t until they had gone into the hall and up the stairs that Ant came back to himself, forcing the bearer to release an embarrassed whine.

“Oh, sweet Prime,” Ant complained, burying his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Honestly, I think everyone else finds it very cute,” Tina offered with a few comforting pats. “But uh- maybe you should visit the washroom with your mom.  You know- take the opportunity to freshen up while you can.”

Ant heard what she didn’t say, what she couldn’t say in the company of their guards and servants.  This wasn’t a space where Ant could bemoan his instinct responses, but in the restricted washroom with Wilbur, he could at very least touch base.

“That’s a good idea,” Ant sniffed, making a show of straightening his hair as though struck with a sudden flare of vanity.  It wasn’t even entirely feigned, was the embarrassing part.  Even now, thoughts of Skeppy’s capabilities and his strength and handsome smile were shooting through the back of his mind, urging Ant to go down to the competitors resting area so he could dote on and reassure and support and maybe squeeze the arm of his chosen- ugh.

“I’m just full of them,” Tina said cheerfully as they approached the royal box doors.

Right, time for Ant to step up.

“Announce us,” he ordered the servant near the door.  He only did so because Tina technically didn’t have permission to be up here, but if she was present as his guest while he had free access it would be fine, so long as Quackity and Wilbur were okay with it.

They obviously were, and Ant and Tina were allowed entry in short order.

“Darling,” Wilbur greeted, smile on his face as he waved off Ant and Tina’s attempts to offer proper greetings before motioning them to his side of the box.  He was standing now, perhaps in anticipation of their visit, and had a very prickly Philza hovering next to him, the emperor’s cloak-covered wing wrapped around the bearer along with his arm, the avian’s gaze fixed out towards the crowds, likely in search of potential threats. “How are you doing?”

“Pretty well,” Ant lied, easing into a smile to put on a good performance for the nobles watching their box. “Hi, Phil.”

“Hi, Ant,” Phil said distractedly, one hand settled on the hilt of his sword, which apparently he had.  Then again, Techno also had his axe, but Ant had assumed that was part of his ceremonial attire as a Blade.  Perhaps it was a similar arrangement. “Skeppy’s doing well.”

“Skeppy’s doing the best,” Ant said, a wave of happy emotions shoving into him, leaving him pleased and contented. “He’s so handsome.  I’m going to have his babies.”

“You already have a baby with him,” Wilbur reminded Ant while Tina choked on nothing probably- it was sort of unimportant in the wake of that realization.

“I do,” Ant whispered, feeling terribly pleased. “How much longer until this is over?  I want to take him to bed.”

Phil startled, his narrowed pupils becoming slightly normal, and he eased into what seemed to be his first real smile of the day. “It’s not much longer now, Lord Frost,” he offered, seeming… fond? Well, of course he was, Ant was great. “I think if you wanted to skip out on the victory banquet, it would be entirely justified.”

“I’m just being so patient,” Ant explained. “And I’m tired of it.  I’m tired of being patient.”

His mama seemed to swallow a chuckle. “I’d likely feel the same way were Phil or Techno competing,” he admitted. “You’re doing so well, darling, you should be proud.”

“We are all uh- proud of Lord Frost, your majesty,” Tina said, clearing her throat to gain their attention. “Though Ant, didn’t you want to-”

“Oh!” Ant remembered now. “I need help with my hair!”

Right? Tina had mentioned something about it earlier.  It felt important.

“You can use our private washroom,” Philza said, nodding behind him. “I’ll guard the door”

“Thank you, thank you,” Ant offered him with a pleased grin, gladly taking his mother’s hand so they could have some alone time.  It was nice to get away from the eyes of the crowds into a place that was quieter, where they could finally be alone- “Ah- Prime,” Ant complained when he came back to himself again. “I’ve been like that all day, Wilbur.”

“It’s very understandable, pup,” Wilbur said, seeming to swallow back a laugh. “The excitement of the crowd is likely feeding into your instincts.  Your protector is showing off how capable he is in front of everyone – it’s reasonable to respond to that.”

"Intellectually, I understand that," Ant sighed, slumping against the washroom counter, staring at his visage in the mirror.  

Along with everything else, they had felt that it was important for Ant to have a distinct style difference between his time as a 'peacekeeper' and his time as a public bearer.  He'd always cared about toiletries before, but now he could be more showy about it, could dress up more without it being critiqued as someone who thought they were too good for their station.  He hadn't thought that was important to him, but he liked dressing nice and looking pretty and having silky, gleaming curls and shiny jewelry.  He enjoyed all that stuff, and he shouldn't feel bad or odd about it, but of course he still did.  The latent guilt that curdled in his stomach, perhaps compounded by the guilt of unresolved situations, combined with his behavior now, even if everyone said it was reasonable. 

"In practice though, I'm just- worried," Ant admitted. "The finals are coming up soon, and Skeppy has to lose.  I just don't know how I'm going to react." 

Karl hadn't come back after he'd gone to meet Sapnap – keeping the blaze hybrid company during his medical checkup before they retreated to the royal box.  Quackity and Techno had been fussing over him when Ant and Tina had come up.  Without the bunny hybrid, Tina was alone in managing Ant's in-instinct self. 

"I mean- badly, is my guess," Ant continued. "Which on one hand is good, because that will make it more believable for the audience, but if I get mad-" He winced, mind drifting back towards the last time he had entirely lost it, when they'd delivered news of Sam's death.  He'd felt bad enough subjecting Josh to that screaming, but there were a lot of people here.  Granted, he couldn't be as devastated now as he was then, but he was still anxious. 

"Do you want to stay up here for the rest of the tournament?" Wilbur asked, making Ant pause. "You're already firmly in the crown faction – there's no hiding that – and Josh and Niki are doing a great job of appearing neutral and detached." He reached out, bracing a hand against Ant's shoulder. "I know you feel compelled to do your duty, that you want to help too, but it shouldn't be at the detriment of yourself.  If you're truly worried just stay up here, and maybe I and your future father-in-law can help settle your nerves." 

"But what if I upset you guys?" Ant asked, stricken by the thought of it. "Philza's already on edge as it is.  What if I set him off?" 

"If that was going to happen, it would occur regardless of whether you were in our box or not," Wilbur countered easily. "It's not as though you're that far away."

"Fair point," Ant said, nodding his head in accession. "But still, it's more intense up close-"

"Don't sacrifice yourself for our sake, pup," Wilbur ordered, his voice firm. "We're a pack, and packs work together.  Let us do this much for you, please."

Ant paused, momentarily caught off guard by the words.  It had not been the first time they were offered to them; it hadn't even been the first time they were conveyed with such earnest intention.

"Let me do this for you," Sam had urged once. "Please.  I cannot imagine how difficult it might be to let people in after you've had to look after yourself for so long, but if you'd like me to be your protector, please allow me to actually protect you." 

Ant swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," he whispered at the new heat stinging in his eyes. "I'm so used to being alone- or just having Sam and Josh, it's hard to remember that I have more."

"I entirely understand," Wilbur soothed, shifting to wrap an arm around Ant's shoulders, allowing the cat hybrid to hug onto his side. "Trust me, I get it.  It's hard shifting from being entirely self-sufficient, from fighting tooth and claw for your own protection, to suddenly becoming the magical glue that can hold together any community.  To suddenly having all these people – strangers – deeply invested in everything you do.  To having the packmates you had only ever dreamed of having by your side suddenly there.  It’s so unspeakably hard to let go of those habits that kept us safe for so long, and Ant- no one holds that against you, not one of us, and that has nothing to do with your second sex.  We all have terrible baggage and we're all just doing our best- we just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," Ant sniffed, wiping at his eyes. "And- And I'm allowed to lean on you." 

"That, you are," Wilbur said. "Now, if being in the royal box is too overwhelming, you could always visit your baby brother in his box.  I'm sure Niki could help keep your reactions in line." 

Ant made a face. "I know it might sound awful, but I'm sort of more comfortable exposing you guys to angry me than Josh – he's dealt with that for more than enough in his lifetime."

"Then stay and cuddle with me," Wilbur said. "Pretend it's at my request.  We can have the servants fetch Techno's cloak from your box and we can watch him puff up with pride while pretending not to."

"I do like it when he does that," Ant admitted, easing into a small smile. "I think I would like that." 

"Then I'll have Philza shove two chairs together and get the servants to fetch a seat for Tina – that'll help him feel productive," Wilbur declared with a coy wink. "And then we can hold hands through the climax."

"I just think it's dumb that they have to lose," Ant grumbled, nuzzling his mom's shoulder. 

It was nice that Punz and Skeppy could make it to the end, of course.  It looked like the finalist from the second bracket was going to be one of the knights that Duke Gavin brought over from House Jones in Achieveburg – Freddo or something like that.  There had been a small contingent of warriors that had sworn their loyalty directly to one of the former heads of the house (be it Gavin, Lindsay, or Mogar) rather than the house itself, and all of them had followed their masters over and were incorporated into House Awe.  While Ant hoped that Punz and Skeppy ultimately fell to him, it was looking a lot like McChill from the Essempi lands was going to fight tooth and nail for the top spot.  While it had seemed like Sapnap had worn McChill down significantly in their first match, the next time McChill had taken to the arena, he had seemed entirely recovered.  It wreaked of potion-assisted recovery – the likes of which were outlawed in this tournament – but as the knight had been yet to be disqualified, Ant assumed that they could find no evidence of foul play.  Instead of getting worn down as the tournament continued, McChill seemed to be getting stronger, which certainly wasn't helping Ant's nerves. 

Lindsay had promised that Freddo was more than capable of taking down his opponents, and while Ant trusted them, McChill's ice biology seemed to be a substantial boost to his performance. 

In short, Ant would be very glad when this was all over.  He really did just want to take Skeppy to bed, to cuddle him in his nest or maybe share a bath and reassure himself that the golem hybrid was totally okay.

"Such is the way of politics," Wilbur consoled, allowing Ant a few more cuddles before they forced themselves back into the eyes of the public.  They returned to the royal box to find Philza in the process of overseeing the rearrangement of chairs – a few more added, and three distinctly pushed together – Wilbur's, Philza's, and an extra.

"It is by no means an order," Philza was sure to murmur while maintaining a mask of neutrality, his gaze on the servants' work. "But I thought that you might like to stay for the final round." 

"Oh Philza, you clever bean," Wilbur cooed, leaning down to press a kiss against his mate's cheek. "You guessed my wants exactly."

"Thanks, Phil," Ant said, feeling so very cared for.

He wasn't alone, and he didn't have to be – never again.

They would get through this together.

Much like Techno, Philza was prone to puffing up with pride while making a grand show of attempting not to do anything like it, leaving him with the appearance of one that was endlessly pleased.  That soothed Ant's own instincts in turn, that he could watch his actions directly aid the pack in some capacity, which helped mitigate some of the anxiety swirling in his stomach.  It wasn't over yet, this wasn't the end, but it was a nice reprieve, just as Tina had intended.  

It only got better when they brought Techno's cloak up, and Ant could entirely encase himself in its wonderfully fluffy confines. 

"Yeah, yeah, brag about it," Tina muttered, though she was wearing a broad smile as she draped a spare cape in Foolish's colors over her own winter coat. "Want me to keep an eye on your baby?" 

"Please comfort Sapnap's wounded pride as best you can," Ant asked, doing his best not to glance the prince's way himself for to do so would be to potentially gaze upon Bad, and Ant couldn't handle that on top of everything else.  Better for him to stay on this side of the arena. 

"Will do," Tina chuckled, offering him a lazy wave before she moved on.

Wilbur settled into the chair beside Ant with Philza's help, releasing a low grunt as he finally got to lean back. "It should be starting up again soon," Wilbur murmured, reaching over to claim Ant's hand in his own. "If you need to leave, just go, alright? Don't worry about repercussions or public perception – hide in the washroom, if you need to – it isn't anyone's place to judge how a bearer responds to an important packmate being endangered." 

"But-"

"No buts," Wilbur interrupted. "Take care of yourself first." 

It was fair advice, for all that Ant burned from it.  He knew that the best way to avoid making an unseemly display of himself was to engage in a tactful retreat, but the idea of abandoning his family didn't sit well with him.  It was likely why Wilbur had spoken with him in the first place.  Ant didn't need to do his duty to the point of detriment, it was just- he wasn't accustomed to such a thing.  He had a proper pack now and he didn't want to fail them.

He supposed that the only way he could fail was if he didn't take care of himself.  He just needed to reframe his thinking, but it was difficult after so many years of dismissing himself entirely. 

"Thanks, mama," Ant murmured, grateful that he'd been given permission.  He realized belatedly that any of his packmates would have offered the same, it just hit slightly different when it came to Wilbur, likely because the piglin hybrid knew what he was going through.   

"Anytime, pup," Wilbur said, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze just as Grand Marquess Pete called for their attention once more. 

This was it.  They'd reached the finals.

All four contestants entered from different gates, each positioned at each primary direction.  During the break, the tournament grounds had shifted, the wizards activated runes that changed the battlefield from an open arena to a sort of faux ruin area.  Collapsed pillars, platforms, and staircases created a multi-level battleground which added another element into their combat. 

"Ladies and gentlemen; our finalists!" Grand Marquess Pete called, his voice magically amplified so that it rang clearly throughout the stadium. "In the north entrance by the royal box is Sir Skepfeld Blade, royal knight and representative of the Blade March!  At the east entrance is Sir Punz Blade, life partner of Lord Connor Blade and representative of the Antarctic Empire's First Division Knights!  At the south entrance is Sir Michael McChill, representative of the Essempi Duchy!  And at the west gate is Sir Freddo, representative of the Awe Duchy!  The final round of competition will be a battle royal in an unconventional environment, with contestants yielding when blades are aimed at a vital point!  The last knight standing will be dubbed champion and will be allowed to request their prize at the victory banquet!  Are all contestants ready?" 

Ant saw more than heard each of the knights shout their affirmations, each properly armed for battle.  Along with their wooden swords they had shields, and each now properly donned a helmet, prepared for another intense round of competition. 

"Prime," Ant breathed, twisting his free hand in the inner fur lining of Techno's cloak. "I wish this would end soon."

"It will, pup," Wilbur assured, though he seemed a bit tense himself. "Three out of the four people down there are in our corner." 

But one of them wasn't, and he'd been drinking enough potions that he almost seemed to gleam in the light of the Antarctican afternoon, a low-level magic humming under his skin that could be attributed to his aura that was almost certainly a result of continued potions use.

Wilbur released a low growl. "How the hell they managed to get potions through our security, I'll never know." 

"There aren't any," Philza said, his tone cool. "All contestants were checked before the finals.  Pete and Ponk went themselves, and they couldn't find any trace of potions." 

Wilbur stiffened. "Are you telling me that guy has a high-level magic user on his side?" 

"It's that, or he ingested an experimental potion before he got to the arena," Philza confirmed. "Which, given that the McChills are a vassal of the Essempis, wouldn't be unlikely.  The tests only reveal recent potion use, since lingering potions require ingredients that are both very rare and very expensive, and even with those safely in hand, it's even more difficult to produce a lingering potion.  It requires an expert hand, though McChill seems to have connected with one somehow." 

"He has something that makes a knight's aura stronger the more they exert themself?" Ant asked, bewildered by the thought. "If that's true, why wouldn't the Essempis use it all the time?  They'd make a fortune."

Aside from the rare ingredients and difficult production time, even ten potions like that sold at an exorbitant price could produce a hefty profit. 

"Because potions like that are illegal," Wilbur hissed in answer. "The immediate effects are useful, but the long-term cost is- if he used that kind of potion, there's a good chance that McChill will be retiring shortly after this." 

"They want to win that badly?" Ant whispered. "But Freddo-"

"Is an Achieveburg native," Wilbur said. "A knight of Awe only in name.  It would make sense that the Essempis would want the win to go to someone a bit more concretely on their side." 

It wasn't the best balance, in the end.  It really would have been better for Dream to step in as part of the neutral faction rather than Punz, but with him indisposed and Drista not even of age to enter secondary school, there had been no solid Wastaken candidates.  At least, none so trusted as Punz.  Punz had also been seen engaging with George a great deal recently, which made him a sort of bridge between the Blades and the Essempis.  Perhaps Connor should have fought for Las Nevadas, but it was done now.  They'd proceeded as best they could and now the match was set.  Ant could only hope that the effects of McChill's potion would wear off sooner rather than later. 

"Here we go," Wilbur said as the match was called and the four knights darted into the arena. "It's just a tournament.  It's just an exhibition.  It's not a war." 

Ant wondered if any of the knights were having war flashbacks with this competition.  It could at the very least be an excuse as to the odd lineup this year.  Why there was no Wastaken in the final - few could argue those that needed time to recover from the actual battles they had faced.

"It's not a war," Ant agreed, giving his mother's fingers a squeeze.  His gaze frantically searched for Skeppy, whose dark leather armor made it difficult to pick him out amongst the arena ruins.  Each leather set had dyed accents to represent the knight's respective houses, but it wasn't enough to help Ant locate Skeppy at this distance. 

There was a distant clang of combat, and Ant jerked his head to the side, gaze narrowing in on a bright explosion of aura on the far side of the arena.  It seemed that Freddo and Punz had found each other, which meant-

There was a burst of blue in his peripherals, and Ant shifted his focus towards a single point, his entire world shrinking down to the face off of one Michael McChill against Skeppy – their blue aura shining bright.  McChill's was icy, like the snow, where Skeppy's was a brighter aqua, and though Skeppy had breezed through a majority of his matches until this point, now he seemed to be actually exerting an effort.  Ant's instincts didn't know what to make of it.  Fear and anxiety were the predominant concerns and he scarcely felt aware of the world around him as he watched the two knights dart around different building remnants, each keeping an eye on their surroundings as they engaged each other. 

"Skeppy, Skeppy, Skeppy," Ant chanted under his breath, heart pounding furiously in his chest. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay." 

It was okay, it had to be okay, it had to be okay.

~:~

There was a certain electricity that lingered in the air of the arena, vibrating with a latent tension that was overpowered by the majority’s excitement for what appeared to be a harmless exhibition purely for the sake of entertainment and Antarctican pride.  Skeppy had bought into the easy joviality of the event once himself, at least until he had risen high enough in the ranks among the castle knights to warrant participating in the tournament qualifiers.  It was there that he had learned that there was far more to the competition than a simple test of skill.  There had been plenty of talented knights, after all, of commoner origin who had never stood a chance at making it into the final tournament bracket.  Sure, management would throw in a few of the more popular commoner-born knights for the sake of representation, to provide a people’s champion who might be allowed to win one match depending on who they were paired against, but for the most part, this competition had always been for nobility or those affiliated with noble houses and this was no exception.  The fact that Skeppy himself had never managed to snag a competition spot until he had both been adopted by Techno and become engaged to a bearer spoke volumes.  He’d initially claimed his position on paper due to his connection to Bad, but even that had been tenuous with the much more popular Sapnap available to represent the royal princes.  The blaze hybrid was both already an official member of the royal family and a renowned war hero, and while Skeppy had spent the entirety of the Marburg war ‘safe’ in the capital carrying out the noble duty of watching after a bearer who was maintaining their privacy, it was no question that between the two of them, Sapnap was much better known and more positively received.  Even with his engagement to Dream being officially annulled, Sapnap still held the people’s hearts, while Skeppy was just sort of there.

They didn’t need him to compete, not really.  Sapnap was a fine representative of the crown faction, and Punz a greater representative for the commoner-born.  It was more than obvious that the Blades were committed to the crown, for all that their family decree insisted upon a constant wariness of any members of strong authority.  With that established, Skeppy had fully expected to be pulled from the tournament.

And then he wasn’t.

“It’s because of Ant,” Niki had explained. “You became engaged to a bearer in a very public way and you’re aligned with one of the most powerful families in the empire; it would be stranger to have you sit this out.  Doing so would give arrows to the critics to declare you a coward and unfit for Ant’s hand.”

“So it’s about proving myself,” Skeppy surmised. 

“Ant claimed you because he knew you were worthy,” Niki countered. “This is your chance to show the world that he chose true.” 

While Skeppy had never mentioned it to Ant, it was because of his fiancé’s status that Skeppy was slated to advance to the finals whereas Sapnap would have to throw mid competition at some point.  Skeppy wished they could have gone up against each other so they could show off the very best of themselves before Skeppy just managed to overpower his friend and long-time shift partner, but Puffy had felt that such a thing would be too obvious.  Instead, Sapnap was destined to lose to a Wastaken vassal, who would then be forced to yield to one of the Essempis.

That Essempi was not supposed to be Michael McChill.  McChill – for all that he was a rare hybrid – hadn’t even been on their radar.  His skills were solidly average, as far as Skeppy had heard, not that he had heard much because the guy hadn’t been memorable.  Hadn’t been of note until he had defeated Sapnap in the second round, and then came back in the third as though he’d never broken a single sweat. 

“There’s no way that fucker’s not cheating,” Punz had muttered under his breath as he made a show of polishing his wooden sword.  Debris wouldn’t necessarily lessen their efficiency, but it never hurt to be careful, and this entire event was all about appearances. “Gotta be some bad bullshit for him to get it past the tournament managers.” 

“Damage is still done though,” Skeppy grumbled, allowing none of his frustration to show on his face.  The only reason he and Punz could get away with this sort of congregating was due to their similar origins.  It would be expected, and therefor safely eluded them from suspicion.  Playing into the other knight’s inherent classism, who likely had no care what riffraff like them had to say – having only attained their advancements through pure luck of gaining the right connections in their eyes – also helped. 

Skeppy was pissed.  They’d been caught off guard; it was clear that McChill had been chosen as the expendable pawn purely because they would not be expecting him.  Because of that, Sapnap had gone down too soon to be good for his reputation, even though he was sure the Wastakens would spin it in the best way possible, that didn’t dismiss the murmurs that were carrying on in the knights’ waiting area, words that would only be intensified and twisted by the opportunistic few. 

“No wonder Wastaken abandoned him,” they whispered. “Maybe those war stories were exaggerated.”

“No way he took out a wither,” another voice agreed, and Skeppy wanted to snarl, wanted to rage, because Sapnap still had nightmares about that stupid fucking war and they wanted to dismiss his contributions as though they were nothing. It only made sense that most of the knights present were family representatives that weren’t an actual part of the royal army, not part of the reserve that had been summoned to fill the crown’s ranks.  They hadn’t had to face Marburg, hadn’t had to slowly and methodically take them down.  They only knew peace, not the civil unrest that had lingered during Skeppy’s childhood.  It was a privilege Sapnap didn’t share, and they spoke as though they knew him.

“Use it to fuel you,” Punz murmured, eyes on his sword. “Remember Ant.” 

As though Skeppy could forget the bearer watching him from so up high.  The cat hybrid had been loudly cheering Skeppy on the entire tournament.  Every match was met with the same enthusiasm, his second sex language somehow managing to carry to Skeppy’s ears.

It was hard, so very hard to do this without Bad, without acknowledging his love, without being able to use Bad as a motivation, picture the rose he could afford the Nether Demon after becoming a finalist, the way it was supposed to be, the way he had dreamed of for so long.  He didn’t resent getting to do that for Ant and he knew Bad wouldn’t either, Skeppy just wished that he could be fighting for both of them. 

It helped that Ant loved him.  A bearer loved him.  And the part of Skeppy that had been used solely as a gem producing factory for so long still struggled to believe that he could deserve such a thing, but Ant had felt that way too, had been scared too, but they trusted each other and had a family together and that was more than Skeppy had ever been able to hope for.  It was a dream beyond measure, and he knew that one day Bad would be there too, that Ant had chosen the Nether Demon as well – one day, it would be less crazy, he just had to keep fighting for that peace.  He couldn’t let these small things get to him.

It burned that they would likely all have to yield to McChill – assuming Freddo couldn’t take him – but Skeppy was past the point of allowing assholes effect his emotional wellbeing.  Sapnap was  healthy and was currently doing a fine job of being dashing and charismatic in the royal box, and Skeppy could do the same.

The finals seemed to arrive all too soon and not soon enough, and with a respectful nod, Punz and Skeppy parted ways.  It was an unspoken rule that they would divide and conquer for the finals.  One would put on a grand show with Freddo, the other would wear down McChill.  He wouldn’t get a round to recover this time, if they pushed him into a corner, Freddo could swoop in to get the final blow, winning it for the Awes and bringing stability and reputation to the new duke.  It was a looser plan that Skeppy would like – than Techno had trained him into forming – but it was the best they could do under the new conditions. 

He was vaguely aware of Grand Marquess Pete formally announcing them to the audience.  By this point, everyone knew who they were – this was but another part of the production, to remind the crowd which factions were being represented.  There was McChill, for the aristocrats, Freddo as his supposed ally, though partially representing the innovators.  There was Skeppy, who despite being a Blade was unquestionably standing in for the crown, and then Punz, who despite being a life partner to Connor (when had that happened? No matter how much Skeppy asked, the dog hybrid would not answer him- like that was a thing that could be waved off) was there for the commoners.

The challengers had been chosen.  The stage had been set, and Skeppy had a bearer, a pup, and a family to represent.  He had a father who loved him and a brother that would probably kill for him and more than that, he had a will as unyielding as the diamonds that grew from his skin. 

Skeppy had a mission.

The match was called, and he sprinted into action to see it through.

Chapter Text

Skeppy was the one that ended up finding McChill.  

The introduction was given via a column that McChill neatly sliced through to cause part of the arena to collapse – on top of Skeppy, was the likely intent (the act of a coward, or a strategist trying to conserve their energy – Skeppy couldn’t really blame him; there was no point in observing honor if it might get you killed), but Skeppy had been training under Techno, and part of that training included assuming that the very worst was going to happen at all times.  As such, he’d been somewhat prepared and managed to dart out of the way, taking advantage of the resulting cloud of dust to launch a counterattack of his own. 

McChill was as frustratingly fast as he’d been with Sapnap.  There was skill there, Skeppy could see that, and maybe that was why McChill had been chosen.  A solid understanding of the fundamentals provided a strong foundation to build from. If all that was lacking was speed, strength, and energy, those could be chemically induced, but finesse was a different story.  The frustrating thing about McChill was that he seemed to have been entirely held back by his lack of power.  That was it.  He’d honed his technique well, to the point where it almost felt like Skeppy was sparring with Techno as he went toe-to-toe with the Iceologer hybrid, trying to put on a spectacular production. 

The problem became apparent quickly.  The problem being that while Skeppy was working to tire McChill out before surrendering with grace, McChill was trying to take his damn head off. 

He didn’t say anything as their swords clashed, but it was hard to miss.  He was attacking Skeppy with a rapid flurry, a quick series of blows the golem hybrid was forced to match strike for strike, with any failure on his part almost certain to result in extreme bodily harm.  Skeppy was doing what he could to redirect energy, to fend him off, but one wrong move would end with him brutally injured. 

Which, Skeppy guessed, was sort of the point. 

McChill was toeing the line of using excessive force, but Skeppy wasn’t getting a chance to breathe, let alone a chance to flag for a referee.  It wouldn’t be until McChill’s sword was buried in either his chest or his head that the audience would know for certain, and Skeppy kind of didn’t want to get to that point.  He would have to play this carefully, find a pause in McChill’s movements to allow himself to get knocked out, maybe, assuming if McChill didn’t just take that chance to kill him.  Skeppy hated thinking of Ant who was watching on.  Hopefully, he would take this chance to visit the washroom or something.  Skeppy hadn’t seen him in his box, so maybe he’d moved to spend time with Josh, who would keep him grounded. 

Wherever Ant was, Skeppy hoped that he wasn’t worried, not that he had much time to spare to consider anything other than McChill’s next blow.  In his peripherals, he caught a staircase and made his move, shifting so he could back up onto it.

The new position gave him a height advantage over McChill, but more than that, it was allowing gravity to work in his favor, while it distinctly worked against McChill.  The iceologer hybrid had to exert extra effort to swing upwards while Skeppy was allowed to conserve energy – at least, to an extent.  He still had to remain in control of his strikes, or else he was going to lose his sword, but if he could just maintain…

He couldn’t, though.

Skeppy wasn’t sure what kind of potion McChill had taken, but it was pretty clear that the harder the other knight worked, the more he was getting energized, which allowed him to force Skeppy backwards, higher up the stairs.  He did everything he could to fight it, to make McChill work for what he wanted, but bit by bit, Skeppy was slowly pushed backwards until he found himself on a ledge with nothing but a steep drop waiting behind him.

He hadn’t been paying attention.  He thought this led to the bridge that would get them to the far side of the arena where Freddo and Punz were fighting, but really, it was a dead end.  Amateur mistake – Techno would chastise him for it later, assuming that Skeppy lived that long.  

It had been ten minutes of nonstop, rapid blows, and Skeppy could feel himself beginning to flag.  Unlike McChill, he didn’t have any chemical advancements to keep him going. 

It was likely inevitable for him to lose his sword.

One moment of wavered focus, one strike returned too slowly, and Skeppy found his sword getting jarred out of his grip, a blow with extra force behind it delivered at just the right angle to disarm him.  At that point, McChill should have stopped, but he plowed forward, moving under the guise of completing a sword combo that was engrained memory.  There were plenty of excuses that he could use to justify the ‘tragedy’ he wanted to enact, that he was tired too, that he hadn’t realized that Skeppy’s sword was gone, that he’d won – that he was in such disbelief that he had managed to get one up on the great Sir Skepfeld until he was delivering his final blow that Skeppy had seen coming, recognized the concentrated aura attack for what it was and frantically ducked behind his shield, bracing his feet as best he could to take the brunt of the blow. 

He was nowhere near ready for it.

The blast drove into the shield like a ravager, for all that he’d never seen one, the force of it jarring the shield back into his chest with such momentum that he could scarcely process getting swept off his feet until he was met with a moment of pure free fall.  

The shield was gone, melting to ash, attacking his skin, Prime, he was going to melt, going to burn- turn into a charred husk, and that was if the fall didn’t kill him, his neck sure to shatter-

A sort of coolness swept over Skeppy.

Something built deep in his core, an unfamiliar energy that hummed like another lifeline.  It spread entirely on instinct, claiming the full extent of his body, until at last, Skeppy was whole.

He landed on the ground with a jarring thud but somehow didn’t register any sort of pain.  The hit was deadened, a sort of distant thing, and there was a vague satisfaction that thrummed around his core at being allowed so close to the earth from whence he came. 

No- from whence part of him- but he was-

Skeppy blinked, looking down at himself to take stock of his injuries, and was surprised to find an unblemished sheen of diamonds coating the entirety of his torso, which he could apparently see as most of his armor had been melted away.

His chest was… diamond?

No, his entire body, it seemed, was diamond.   His hands, his legs- he could feel it all as one smooth, unblemished piece.

He had shifted.

He had- he’d heard tell of such a thing, of course.  

Generations ago, when magic was a more bountiful resource available in the world, when hybrids were more in touch with their roots – or so the purists like to say – he’d heard the same stories that every other young golem hybrid heard.  That there were golems so very in touch with the stones that had chosen them that they could become one with their geode.  They could use it as protection, or as a display to attract mates, or to aid with potion making or red stone engineering, if they were a lapis or red stone golem.  He’d seen the same pictures as any other hybrid that had read up on the mystical skills of the hybrids that had come before him, but in terms of practicality, Skeppy had heard that such skills were little more than fairy tales, practically bred out of their genetic makeup as the generations turned over.  Golem hybrids were rare, and Skeppy had only met one other before.  They’d traded thoughts, experiences, but neither of them had special abilities.  Neither of them had experienced the fantastical notion of a full shift.

But Skeppy had.  Skeppy was diamond, his core buzzing stubbornly in his chest, sending out vibrations of harmony and defense.  Skeppy had never attempted such a thing, it had seemed pointless to even consider such notions.  It wasn’t supposed to be a real skill, but here and now, when he most needed it, when it most counted, it was.  Skeppy had shifted, had changed to defend himself because his life was so much more than his own now, and if someone wanted to take it from him, they were going to have to work for it.

Prime, he was angry now.  He’d been frustrated before, but now he was properly furious.  Had that been the Essempis’ entire goal?  To take out Skeppy?  To tear him down for jumping social hurdles several times over?  For being claimed by a bearer, for formerly being engaged to the crown prince?  Was this supposed to be some sort of statement against Techno?  

It just seemed so stupid.  It was a rage that burned in Skeppy’s hand, the protector painfully aware of his missing weapon.  He shifted up onto his feet and could see McChill charging back down the stairs – putting on a show of panicking over Skeppy’s wellbeing while likely earnest to confirm his kill.  Skeppy didn’t know if one of the tournament refs would be in route, but he was a Blade.  He would be prepared for anything.

He focused that anger – that rage in his hand an accumulation of aura – and allowed it to form into a blade entirely made of energy.  His energy, shining bright and true, that no one – least of all the likes of McChill – could ever hope to imitate.

He was Sir Skepfeld Blade, and he wasn’t losing to anyone.

McChill reached the bottom of the staircase, eyes going wide in shock.  He paused, seeming to struggle to process what he was seeing, if it was true, and Skeppy used that opportunity to lunge forward, disarming McChill before aiming his aura blade at the iceologer hybrid’s throat.  There was no way for McChill to miss the burning thrum of energy that emitted from it, the heat no doubt beginning to singe into his skin without ever making proper contact.  This was what a true knight acted like. 

He was so focused on the prey that trembled before him that Skeppy was scarcely aware of the new company they received until they were practically upon them.

“Sir Skepfeld,” Duke Wastaken greeted, a small group of knight enforcers behind him. “We’ll take things from here; you may lower your blade.”

It was kindly phrased.  Skeppy wanted to snarl at the suggestion – they all had to have seen McChill’s killing intent – Skeppy had a right to defend himself, but they were in the eyes of the public.  Duke Wastaken was being as generous as he could, prompting Skeppy forward with polite suggestions rather than forcibly disarming him. 

He could kill McChill here, if he so chose, no one would blame him for it.  The part of his protector instincts that had been forced into a shift for the sake of survival desperately wanted to take out the threat before it could act again, but-

“Think of Ant,” Punz had said, the low drawl ringing in Skeppy’s ears.

If Ant was still present, Skeppy didn’t want him to see this.  The bearer had already gone through so much, he didn’t need to witness this as well, and Skeppy loathed to mar the aura blade he had just managed to form with someone as lowly as McChill.  Someone who was probably going to die anyway due to illegal potions. 

Skeppy caught sight of the handkerchief still somehow impossibly wrapped around his wrist, and thought of how terrible it would be to stain such a thing with the blood of someone like McChill.

Skeppy sighed, and lowered his blade.

“Thank you, your grace,” he said, gathering every inch of politeness he could muster in light of the exertion he had just thrown himself through.  He offered a bow of respect before taking a pointed step back, taking him out of the reach of temptation. 

“Sir McChill, you have been disqualified due to use of excessive force,” Duke Wastaken continued, shifting his focus to the shaken iceologer hybrid who continued to stare at Skeppy with wide eyes, his body wracked with trembles.  There was the slightest singe mark against his throat – a reddened line of irritation that would not look like much more than heat rash to the untrained eye – but that was enough for Skeppy to know that McChill fully understood the strength that Duke Wastaken had held him back from, the strength that he had helped Skeppy find. “Your irresponsible actions could have led to the death of a noble knight, and as such, you will be scrubbed from the records of this competition and immediately escorted off the field.”

“What?” McChill seemed to startle back to himself after being directly addressed, not that Duke Wastaken paid him much mind, the entirety of his focus shifting to Skeppy.  The knight enforcers swarmed McChill, one passing his sword over to Duke Wastaken before they shackled his hands and began escorting him off the field, leaving just the duke and Skeppy behind.

The taller protector passed over McChill’s sword. “Technically, you should be disqualified too for that aura blade,” the duke admitted quietly under his breath. “But we will argue self-defense so long as you do not use it again.” 

“Fine by me,” Skeppy allowed with a wry grin. “It’s tiring as shit to maintain.” 

“You should be very proud of yourself,” the duke said, words tinged with a supportive rumble. “There are not many that can do such a thing.  You have made a great name for yourself, Sir Skepfeld.”

“I had proper motivation,” Skeppy said, smile stretching wide as he properly settled McChill’s sword in his hand. “Do I have permission to continue competing?”

“Officially – yes.  Unofficially – feel free to pursue a match with less tension.”

“I suppose I could do that,” Skeppy chuckled, offering one more bow before turning his back on the duke, searching out other aura flares.  

Ah, it seemed that Punz and Freddo were still going at it.  That would explain why there had been no timely interventions. “I’m off.”

“Take care,” the duke murmured, and it wasn’t his dad, but it was a trusted ally, and Skeppy allowed that support to carry him forward in a light jog.  

Punz must have spotted his approach because by the time Skeppy found the other two, the dog hybrid was allowing himself to be disarmed, holding his hands up in a show of surrender and offering Freddo a light bow of respect.  While he would likely forever deny it, there was no hiding the way his golden tail wagged at the responding roar from the crowd.  Punz never had a shot of winning the competition regardless of his skill level, but the fact that a commoner born hybrid had managed to make the podium for the tournament would be excitedly spoken of for months to come. 

“I yield, give me a second to duck out before you go at it,” Punz said, scooping up his sword and offering Skeppy a sly wink that was quickly replaced by Punz’s equivalent of a double take, which wasn’t actually that expressive at all because it was Punz, but it was still quite a triumph that it had happened at all. “What the shit, man?” Punz murmured under his breath, stowing his sword as an excuse to linger longer. 

“Full shift – I’ll tell you later,” Skeppy said.  He’d sort of forgotten that he was still one unblemished sheen of diamonds.  That was likely disconcerting to people. “It was a whole thing.”

“You will leave out no details,” Punz warned before turning away.  He had no more reason to stall, so he left the arena as per requirement of the tournament rules, and then it was just Freddo and Skeppy.

“My man, you look awesome,” Freddo said, shifting into the ready position. “You good to put on a proper show?” 

“I’m gonna make you work for it,” Skeppy warned, and then they launched into the fray.

Fighting Freddo was a significant improvement to fighting McChill.  Freddo wasn’t trying to kill him, for starters.  He was talented and competent and kept his blows professional rather than attempting to take Skeppy’s arm off with every strike.  He had a skill that had been carefully honed, a precision that made it both endlessly challenging and an utter delight to go up against.  They were both tired, but Skeppy easily more so, and he could admit that when Freddo finally did disarm him, it was an effort achieved through pure skill rather than Skeppy actively surrendering. 

“You are awesome,” Freddo whispered with a wide grin, offering Skeppy a proper sword salute before he turned to raise his arms to the crowd.  He was met with loud cheers, some that even seemed to be offered at Skeppy himself, who accepted them with a small wave. 

They’d done it.  They’d gotten through the tournament and no one had died.  Skeppy had claimed second place, achieved both a full shift and an aura blade in the span of a single afternoon, and had a very excited bearer to get back to.  He and Freddo waited for Philza to announce the results before announcing the start of the winter festival before retreating to the knight resting area.  Later, there would be a banquet. 

For now though, Skeppy wanted to savor a job well done.

~:~

"Holy shit, Ant," Karl breathed, a hysterical laugh tinging his words. "You have the most badass protector in the world." 

At some point during the competition, Ant had moved back to the railing, could no longer bear to remain sitting and had lurched forward, as though the increased proximity would somehow aid Skeppy’s chances of survival.  Like the good friends and damage-control-minded individuals that they were, Karl and Tina had moved to flank him, leaving them to huddle together in a growing stupor as Skeppy somehow not only didn’t die, but achieved a full golem shift.

"Yes, I do," Ant breathed, feeling the haze of his instincts take over again. "I am going to have so much sex with him after this."

Tina choked. "Ant-"

"So much," Ant repeated, watching with a keen satisfaction as Skeppy lunged forward and neatly disarmed the entirely shocked McChill.  The golem hybrid aimed his aura blade at his opponent's throat just as Duke Wastaken finally made his appearance.

"Sir McChill has been disqualified due to excess force!" Pete called. "Leaving Sir Skepfeld, Sir Punz, and Sir Freddo to fight for the championship!" 

"Holy shit," Ant said with a blink as Duke Wastaken passed Skeppy McChill's sword, the knights behind him leading McChill away. "Are the other two still fighting?"

"Dude, they've been fighting this entire time," Karl said, sounding entirely too judgmental. "Did you not notice?"

"I think that question pretty much speaks for itself," Tina said, and maybe she was a little bit right as Ant watched his beautiful sparkly mate jog towards the other side of the arena.

The rest of the fight – while entertaining – was not nearly as fretful as the beginning.  Punz just happened to 'lose' just as Skeppy made an entrance, allowing Skeppy and Freddo to trade blows until Skeppy was disarmed a few minutes later.  Unlike McChill, Freddo did an excellent job of controlling his blows, which likely explained how he and Punz had been fighting for so long. 

"The champion is Sir Freddo of the Awe Duchy!" Puffy cheered. "This is the Awes first victory in two decades!  Everyone, please give a round of applause for Sir Freddo and all of the knights who competed so valiantly this year!" 

"Your majesty!" a voice called, and it took Ant a moment to realize that it had come from a nearby box.  He turned to find George looking at Philza, the panther hybrid wearing that expression of careful neutrality that Eret had taught him. "I take full responsibility for the actions of my vassal."

Philza, as though shifting into someone entirely different, someone cool and carved of ice, considered George with his own unyielding wall of emotion. "We will discuss this later," he said, head nodding towards the back hallways. "Retribution must be paid, Duke Essempi; this cannot be ignored."

"Of course, your majesty," George said, offering another bow.  

Philza waited a few moments before dismissing him, quickly shifting his attention back down to the knights, a smile blossoming across his face with such intense warmth it was as though the earlier exchange hadn't occurred at all. "Finalists! We look forward to receiving you at the castle for a proper victory banquet.  As for everyone else!" He held his hand up in celebration. "Let the Winter Festival officially begin!" 

The crowd cheered – unsurprising, considering the popularity of the winter festival.  There would be food booths and artisans and public street performances, people sang songs – it was a great time.  Ant had gone on quite a few occasions, though he'd known that it wouldn't be possible this year.  Maybe next year, when his nerves hadn't been put through quite as trying an effort, but not now.  Now, he only wanted to cuddle with Skeppy. 

Ant was only distantly aware of Philza pulling back to allow Quackity and Wilbur to take the limelight, Techno lingering just over their shoulders.  They did a great job of pulling the crowd's focus while Philza retreated, likely to put on a show of speaking to George, but Ant didn't get a chance to dwell on that as Foolish approached him.

"I can teleport you down to Skeppy," the consort explained, and though he was wearing a smile, his brows were pinched in concern. "I know you want to see him now."

"But Bad-" Ant began, but Foolish waved him off.

"He's in the public eye now," Foolish said. "Sapnap and Karl will stay with him until I get back; it'll only take a second."

Ant swallowed hard. "Take me, please.  And my guard," he added, because he didn't want to give anyone heart attacks. 

"Good idea," Foolish said in a blink, and a few moments later, Ant materialized outside of the knight resting area.

Their appearance hadn't been expected, of course, and as such they appeared while Duke Wastaken was in the middle of a heated discussion with whom Ant assumed were the McChill Vassal representatives. 

"-because this was part of the competition, there are no legal charges to be placed," Duke Wastaken explained. "But there is no question that Sir Michael used excessive force, and while it cannot be proven that it was with the intent of serious injury, disqualification and removal from the records is the very least that he deserves.  He will not be recorded as a finalist in this year's festivities, and he will not be permitted entry to the victory banquet."

"This is an excessive response," the McChill person hissed. "Your grace, may I remind you that neutrality is the key focus of your position?  A fair application of the rules, not this blatant favoritism-" 

"Blatant?" Ant snarled, and suddenly he was just- there in this dumb idiot's face. "I thought Skeppy was dead!  He pushed him off a ledge! If he's so incompetent that he can't control his strikes in the heat of the moment, then he doesn't deserve to be a knight, let alone be allowed into a banquet!" 

"Peace-peace-peace," Duke Wastaken offered, and it was only because Sam liked him that Ant decided to hold himself back. "I'm sorry for the distress this caused you, Lord Frost.  And you-" He shifted his attention to the McChill vassal. "I understand the extent of my responsibilities quite well.  Trust that if any of the other contestants had acted anywhere similarly to Sir Michael, they would be facing the same repercussions.  The honor of the Wastakens will now allow any greedy, underhanded tactics to be waved away, and you full know that.  Now leave, before I turn you over to the Grand Judge for a proper investigation." With that, he seemed to dismiss the vassals from his awareness entirely, shifting his full focus onto Ant. "May I escort you to your fiancé, Lord Frost?"

"Please do," Ant said, turning his attention back to Foolish. "Thanks, your majesty.  I'll be fine from here." 

"Send a servant if you need us," Foolish said. "And stay with Skeppy from here on out."

"Yes, your majesty," Ant said, offering him a light curtsy. 

Foolish was gone with a smile and a flash of light, and then Duke Wastaken was ushering Ant into a space that just wreaked of protectors.

"Exertion and aura tends to burn through scent blockers," the duke explained. "Will you be alright?" 

"I've dealt with stinky protectors before," Ant dismissed, even if it may have been a while.  It was less common for hybrids to be on blockers in the small villages of the empire, and Ant had spent the beginning of his life in one, for all that he barely remembered that time. 

"We'll move quickly," Duke Wastaken decided before he adopted a brisk pace, staring down any of the knights whose gazes may have lingered on Ant.  In the past, he would have felt terribly self-conscious and worried about such looks, but now that he was embracing his instincts, he could only register pride, something that made him want to puff up and strut because of course they wanted to look at him, he was pretty, he was precious and rare, but he was not for them, he was here for the protector that most deserved it, which made it all the more satisfying when he actually did get eyes on his partner.

"Skeppy!" Ant charged to his side in an instant, hovering awkwardly as he startled the medic that had been looking over his chosen.  As jubilant and pleased as he'd been a moment earlier, now Ant felt all the worry and concern pouring down on him with a ruthless sort of abandon, until he felt an overwhelmed heat in his eyes, something that choked up his throat. "Skeppy."

"Ah, Ant," Skeppy breathed, and he was there, still glittery and shiny and hard and cool and not at all like the comforting pillow that Ant needed him to be but Ant didn't care, because those diamonds had kept Skeppy alive and later, he knew his Feline and Bearer instincts would love drooling all over Skeppy's full shift, but for now, Ant just needed to confirm that he was alive. "Good-good-good-safe-won." 

"I thought you died," Ant sobbed, burying his face against Skeppy's shoulder but he couldn't detect any scent because of this shift and what if it actually wasn't Skeppy- Prime. 

"Me too," Skeppy gasped out. "I also- but I had to get back to you, so I figured something out." 

Ant could only release an inarticulate sob, the effort of it leaving him breathless.  His fingers curled against what should have been the leather material of Skeppy's armor but was instead hard diamond because Skeppy's armor had literally been blown off of him, had been melted, he'd been thrown, had actually fallen, and it was only pure luck and a last-minute biological evolution that had kept him safe, which literally no one had accounted for.

"I'm sorry, Ant," Skeppy murmured, rubbing gentle patterns against his crown. "That must have been so scary."

"It was," Ant croaked. "Don't- don't do that, you don't have to-" He pulled back enough to meet Skeppy's eyes. "You're the best.  You don't have to fight next year, you've proven how strong and sexy you are."

There were some sputters from off to the side because there were still other people around, Ant guessed, but the entirety of his attention was on Skeppy, who took the order with a smile. "If you so will it, I'll gladly sit out next year." 

"He's sure for a promotion anyway," a voice grumbled from off to the side, and Ant realized belatedly it was Punz.  Punz, who was being fussed over by Connor, taking the hedgehog hybrid's attentions with a greatly put upon sigh. "They might very well have him fill Dream's position while he's out on mission." 

"Specially if I ask for something else," a new voice cheered, and that was- oh, the snake hybrid, Freddo. "And I will!  I'll have to do something aristocratic-y, but I promise I won't step on your toes."

"Thank you, Freddo, you are not quite the best, but you are very close," Ant informed him seriously. "Thank you for being such an honorable and controlled gentleman." 

"A gentleman?  Me?" Freddo echoed, a green flush dusting his cheeks. "Shoot." 

"Nah, he's right," Punz sighed. "If I had to lose to anyone, I'm glad it was you." The dog hybrid made a face. "Sorry you got stuck with McChill, Skeppy."

"Eh, he helped me grow, so I'm okay with it," Skeppy hummed, making Ant tense again.

"I'm not okay with it," Ant clarified. "I'm glad he got disqualified.  I hope he stubs his toe." 

Though it wasn't like it mattered.  If McChill did use experimental potions, his body would be wrecked enough as it was.  Maybe this had always been the point – like he was an expendable assassin, but Skeppy had been too much for him.  Too cool.  Too great.

"Skeppy," Ant continued, jerking his head towards the golem hybrid before anyone could get a word in. "I have been.  So patient." 

"You.... have?" Skeppy's brows, though carved of diamond, still managed to furrow in concern. "I mean yes, you have."

"Shift back," Ant ordered. "So I can kiss warm you.  We need to have sex." 

That time the sputtering was from Freddo.  Or maybe Ant's guard. 

"Right-right-right, hold on," Skeppy said, closing his eyes and focusing and- there was a glimmer, his body shining bright, and then he was back to his normal hybrid self. "Guess I can activate a diamond shield at will now."

"For which I am quite grateful, but we need to go home now," Ant said. "To have sex, and then we can go to the victory banquet and I can show you off and rub it in everyone else's faces that they don't get to marry you and then we need to cuddle with our baby." He leaned forward, giving his fiancé a meaningful look. "Do you understand?"

"Diamond clear," Skeppy chirped, going so far as to shoot Ant a wink. "Thanks, Ant."

"You're welcome," Ant hummed.  It was always good when Skeppy acknowledged his greatness. "Come, we're retreating to the Manifold Suite in the castle – it is closer." 

"Woo, get some!" Freddo cheered, and while Ant would normally hiss at such impertinence – especially from someone he had just met – Freddo was a knight of Awe and he had been good to Skeppy, which gave him a free pass.

As such, Ant offered them all a sweet smile, fluttering his lashes as he pulled his wonderfully-smelling love away. "Thank you, thank you- good, good, good."

There was a rumble of "Good, thanks," offered in reply by the other protectors, but then they were gone from Ant's realm of awareness.  He had bigger, more important things to focus on, after all.

Like getting his chosen in bed.

Chapter Text

Bad stood frozen, barely able to breathe, let alone process what he had just witnessed.  At some point he had shut down, entirely drifting away from his body to keep any of his panic from registering on his face.  There were so many eyes here, all desperate for his failure, and while he would gladly give it to them, he couldn’t risk setting off Ant, who already seemed so terribly worried.  Bad had drifted, unable to pull his focus entirely from the cat hybrid and so minimizing it to as small as his instincts would allow, but that precious fraction responded with a ruthless twinge at each worried croon that spilled from Ant’s mouth, the bearer vocalizing all that Bad could not.

He’d known that competing in the knight completion had been a long-time dream of Skeppy’s, one that had been kindled and just as easily tossed aside once the golem hybrid had decided that it was a goal too lofty to be considered possible.  There may have been some bitterness there, perhaps, but Skeppy was a champion of shaking off things that were beyond the realm of his control.  He abandoned it and any anger relating to his inability to achieve this dream as it would not help him.  Bad suspected that this mindset was one of the things that had drawn them together.  To do otherwise wasn’t a practical way to survive as an individual with minimal power, so Skeppy had moved on, creating grand hypotheticals of which knights he could beat and why, he and Sapnap putting on their own mock knight competitions – sometimes dragging in the likes of Niki who could bring in Hannah – who despite being head of the second knight legion, would likely never get the opportunity to compete either.  In the Antarctican Army, it was skill that determined a person’s position, not social rank, but the Winter Knight Competition was about politics, not the defense of the empire.  It was a different sort of competition, and all of them fell short. 

Of course, that had changed after the war, Hannah being awarded a viscounty, as was her due.  She had lost in the semifinals of the third bracket, allowing Sir Freddo to go though representing the Awes.  Hannah didn’t seem to mind the loss – not that she ever would have shown it, not that Bad particularly knew Hannah – but no one in the royal box had been worried, so Bad was sure that Freddo was a solid type, and likely the victor they had conceded to as a means to throw a bone to the non-crown factions.  Bad had understood that, had followed that, all while maintaining a serene disposition, and then Sapnap had gone into his second fight.

For all that Bad was maintaining a careful distance between himself and his brother, he’d still been keeping as close an eye on Sapnap’s actions as he could.  Foolish was kind enough to offer updates unprompted, seeming to sense that Bad needed them but could not ask for them, and those had been the lifelines to which Bad had clung fiercely.  Even before this year, Bad had known of Sapnap’s talent.  He had to be skilled to become part of Prince Thomas’s guard contingent, to become one of the most favored options, to stay in that guard assignment.  His character showed strong enough that even the emperor had adopted him, and Bad was unsurprised- had brimmed with pride for all that he had been worried, had been thrilled because his sweet precious baby had been acknowledged by such a powerful pack.  On paper, Sapnap was Bad’s little brother, but in action, Sapnap was Bad’s pup, had become such when their last adult figure had left for ‘just a few days’ to seek out supplies that they desperately needed and never returned, and it was at that point where Bad had to pointedly not think about what may have occurred to cause this abandonment because that wouldn’t help him survive.  He was ten and he had a baby to look after and as much as he wanted to cry, he couldn’t stand the idea of Sappy suffering because he was trapped in shock.  

His pup had trained hard because he’d wanted to protect Bad in turn, and he was so good and to see him lose in the second round-

Bad hadn’t breathed the entire time.  Despite Sapnap making it look effortless, despite matching blow for blow, Bad had emotionally detached, his hearing fuzzing around the edges into a low buzz that blocked out all excess responses.  He’d held perfectly still, frozen with a low fear that clung to his gut.  It was too early for any nerdowells to think of attempting something truly horrific, but perhaps that would make it the best time to do so, would be when Sapnap’s guard was most lowered and what if his pup was hurt, what if Sappy was permanently injured-

And then it was over and Sapnap was waving to the crowd with a wide smile on his face and he was fine, Bad could breathe, Bad could breathe, it would be okay.  Later, when Karl brought his baby up to the royal box, Bad couldn’t do anything, had to maintain a polite distance for all that he wanted to hug Sapnap close and check over him personally – the part of Bad that had been responsible for Sapnap’s wellbeing since he was but a few months old – wanted to take care of it all himself.  Wanted to snarl at those that might dare get between him and his injured pup, but he forced those possessive responses back.  If he wanted to best help Sapnap, he would keep a distance, create a void so that those that had sunk their claws into Bad couldn’t even think of approaching the blaze hybrid.  It had been Bad that had made the deal after all, not Sapnap.  He had been too young to learn the secrets of their family, and Bad had hidden all the books that might have clued him into it.  If there was one thing Bad could do right in this world, he would protect his baby, and by extension the empire they lived in.  He never would have made this deal if he’d thought it could potentially give the contractor an in to the leading power that ruled the empire.  

Sapnap was fine and breathing and present, managing bright smiles and trying not to preen as his mothers fussed over him – he was okay, and though his pride was wounded, though Bad could not speak of him. 

McChill was a factor none of them had considered – the play they should have expected, and Bad’s tension grew as the iceologer hybrid slaughtered his way through the first bracket of matches, easily clenching his position in the finals.  It shouldn’t have mattered, it shouldn’t- but Skeppy was in the finals.  Punz – for all that Bad didn’t know him well – was in the finals.  Freddo – who had to win or at least come second, was in the finales, meaning it was only natural for Skeppy and Punz to split up, one of them sacrificing themselves to McChill while the other put on a show with Freddo.

Bad could admit that he’d been hoping that it would be Punz that ran into McChill first.

Apparently it was not meant to be.  

The desire to cry was a response that Bad had more or less trained out of himself as a matter of necessity long ago.  It was terribly impractical in the Nether, whose oppressive heat made hydration maintenance a vital part of surviving.  It was a difficult lesson to learn when Bad had been scared, when he’d been so young and so sad and utterly unprepared to take on parenthood, but he couldn’t cry when Sapnap was crying – one of them had to be in control – so Bad had created the severely unhealthy habit of repressing his emotions. 

It should have helped now, watching Skeppy – his heart – trade blows with McChill, but it didn’t.  He’d already been in this position once today, watching someone he cared for so deeply, who had snuck under his guard and claimed a part of him, had offered Bad a part of himself in turn, had welcomed Bad exactly as he was rather than what the world thought he should be.

Skeppy – much like Ant – was one of the few that had never judged Bad for being a Nether Demon.  He was a rare species, he knew, enough to prompt a multitude of strange looks even in the capital when he was going about basic errands.  He was unknown and intimidating and scary, a reputation clinging to his kind that made most avoid him.  Most thought him a fighter, or a warlock from the days of old – there had been few that wanted to use his healing expertise, for all that he had mastered it.  The notes his mother had left behind – it was the Halo pack legacy.  They were doctors, fixers, for their ancestors had not been.  Had fought and bled and waged war until their descendants shifted to heal what had been broken.  It was all Bad knew, all Bad had the stomach for, and most were too scared to even approach him. 

He’d thought Skeppy’s flirtations had been teasing, at first.  A sort of joke between them.  It seemed impossible for the golem hybrid to be legitimately attracted to him, and in a way it had hurt, for Skeppy to be so cruel when Bad had thought that they’d had a somewhat friendly repartee between them, but he had so few friends in the capital as it was that Bad had borne it in silence.  The Overworld was horrifically overstimulating.  Going from just one blaze pup to the mass of life that thrived in the capital had been jarring, and Bad had struggled to get his feet under him, to learn even the basics of social dynamics.  He hadn’t been raised with any of it, he didn’t know their customs, and Skeppy had helped him learn, all while continuing to flirt, until at last he had sat Bad down and explained in no uncertain terms that his affections were entirely sincere and that he did genuinely want to start a life with Bad.

Which was so overwhelming and impossible that Bad had simply said no, because he always had to choose the safest option when it came to his life – it wasn’t just about him, after all, it was about Sapnap; precious Sapnap.  Bad couldn’t risk including Skeppy into their dynamic only to have him leave, breaking Sapnap’s heart (never mind Bad’s – he had dealt with worse pain, all of which would become secondary to his pup). 

Letting Skeppy in had been one of the most difficult things Bad had ever done – or at least, that was what he’d thought until he’d had to let Skeppy go.

Even if it was for his protection, even if it was so they’d stay safe, it was still hard.  Bad didn’t regret it though.  This was the price he paid for his choices, and he could accept that. His only regret was having to put those he most cared for though any sort of strife because of his decisions.  It was necessary, however.  He had no choice, much like he had no choice but to watch Skeppy get cornered against someone who seemed intent on causing him major harm, and when he fell-

Things got somewhat blurry.  Distant.  He was gone, drifting, and then there was a roar of a crowd and he was back.

Back, back, back but he didn’t want to be back- didn’t want to live in a world without Skeppy- he shouldn’t have to live in a world without Skeppy – Prime damnit, he’d done all this so that his love could be safe and now he was gone over something that had been his dream and it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair- how could they cheer for this- Bad wasn’t surprised at the depths of the mass’s cruelty in an attempt to derive some sort of entertainment but that didn’t make it okay-

And then Skeppy was fine.  He was safe. 

He was beautiful and gorgeous and even stronger than before, such a shining beacon of achievement that Bad wanted to cry because he had shown them, he had shown them all.  They all thought Skeppy had been included out of polite obligation but he was talented, he was strong- stronger than they could ever know and Bad could cry, because they had tried to tear down his champion and Skeppy had only risen to the occasion, coming back that much more victorious. 

Skeppy was okay, McChill was disqualified, and Bad could breathe that much easier.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” Sapnap babbled from his spot beside Bad. “What the ever-loving fuck took them so long?  That dude’s been trying to murder Skeppy for the past ten minutes-” 

“They would have cut in if they could,” Karl replied, a soft grin on his face as he released a string of Peacekeeping purrs under his breath to keep Sapnap grounded.  They had stayed on Bad’s side of the royal box ever since Sapnap’s loss.  Sapnap clearly wanted to be as close to Bad as their current situation would allow, but Karl had made sure that they maintained a polite distance, for which Bad was entirely grateful. 

“Well, Skeppy showed him,” Sapnap sniffed. “Kicked his goddamn ass and didn’t even need to cheat to do it.”

‘Language,’ Bad did not say.  He didn’t really have the right anymore, and in truth, he would have reverted to the less articulate aspects of their linguistics were he afforded the opportunity to do so.  

But Bad could not exhibit a public attachment to someone claimed by a bearer who did not like him.  There were enough eyes on him already, eager for drama now that McChill had been disqualified, the remaining contenders just as impressive, if less theatric-providing than the Essempi’s wildcard.  

Bad was barely present for the remainder of the competition.  He was more focused on maintaining a serene disposition while his heart beat frantically in his chest, adrenaline intermixing with anxiety, leaving his inner robes soaked in a cool sweat that left his stomach churning.  All at once he felt exhausted, as though he had run a marathon and exerted every ounce of his being rather than watching others give their all for hours on end.  He felt dazed when Philza announced the winner, offering polite golf claps while the crowd cheered, the cool metal of his crown feeling terribly heavy. 

He couldn’t even look at Ant, he couldn’t look at Skeppy.  His eyes felt hot.

“My lord,” one of the servants said – one of the newer maids that after all this time still approached everything with a clear trepidation – likely intimidated by the stories that lingered of the old servants that had been replaced, Prince Fundy’s former tutors almost quite certainly still in the basement for treason. “His majesty Foolish wished we inform you that he’ll be escorting Lord Frost to his fiancé.” She dipped into an awkward curtsy that would make the higher-ranking nobles spying on their box laugh – oh, how the would-be crown prince had fallen.  He didn’t even have well-trained staff anymore. She rose, only giving off the slightest of wobbles. “His majesty will be back shortly.”

While the servants that surrounded the royal pack didn’t seem to understand exactly why Bad was under constant supervision nowadays, they had faced off with an intense totem hybrid enough times that they didn’t question it – simply enforcing the new rules as best they could.  Foolish had become a force to be reckoned with the more time passed since Eret’s death, to the point where Bad too would prefer to keep the smallest consort appeased.  But Foolish was gone, teleporting Ant away in a flash of light, and Duke Wastaken was far below, no doubt seeing to McChill’s imprisonment, and for the first time in weeks, Bad did not have a high-level magic user immediately on hand.

The back of his neck burned, phantom fingers curling into his windpipe, exerting the slightest force.  

While everyone else was distracted, Bad ducked into the washroom, dismissing his maid with a flick of his fingers.  She was enough of a novice and he moved with enough confidence that she would assume that this was an exception to the rule.  While part of him felt sorry to take advantage of this ignorance, he could only hope that Wilbur would simply reassign her for the mistake rather than terminating her employment entirely. 

The door to the washroom fell shut behind him, and immediately, the noise of the outside world faded away.  He didn’t get a chance to lock the door behind him before a force shoved him down.  It allowed him to brace his palms against the counter – exerting enough effort to keep him pinned in place without going beyond that.  This wasn’t like last time, where he was getting choked out, thrashing as he was pushed ruthlessly down.  This was simply a reminder, it seemed, of who was in control. 

“You know – I thought it was great that you had somehow landed in a position to be surrounded by bearers, but damned if they aren’t just the most annoying things in the world,” his contractor hissed – seeming more annoyed than furious. “I know you have to bow to their whims same as anyone else, but just- ugh- you know?  Fucking brats.  I mean- I thought it was fine when they didn’t like you – hilariously inevitable, actually – but somehow- somehow- despite that, they have still found a way to be a huge pain in the ass and- whatever, we both know our time is brief, just had to take the chance to say hello why I could, if that makes sense.  See-” The barest tips of sharp claws dug into the delicate flesh of his throat, though not enough to draw blood, simply warning of it. “You need to know- need to understand, that we were this fucking close.  This close.  It was going to be great- your ex-lover would get severely injured and who but the ever talented Doctor Halo would heal him?  Take what should be a terribly fatal wound and maybe minimize it to say – partial paralysis.  It’s practically a miracle!  And between you and me, we make sure his you know is still in perfect seed-laying condition, allowing that snotty little bearer of his to have as many of that rock head’s babies as he wants and BAM- you are loved again.  That kitty cat fawns all over you, you rescue a rising star of the Blades, and all those stupid little rumors that maybe you shouldn’t be crown prince disappear overnight.  It’s amazing, magical, wonderful – and then that dipshit rockhead found a way to activate his golem powers!” 

The hand gripping onto Bad shakes with rage as his contractor released a shuddering breath.

“Fucking damnit, we were this close,” he snarled. “And now I have to start all over again.  Do you know how hard it- well, it wasn’t like you had anything to do with this, but still, you should- just keep your eyes open, okay?  I’m going to create an opportunity for you to build your reputation back with the healing you love so much, just don’t fuck it up.”

With that, Bad was released, the force behind him vanishing entirely, and he just- he tried to breathe, doing anything he could to keep the horror of the situation from sinking into his stomach.

His contractor had helped McChill.  His contractor had- all to hurt Skeppy so Bad could heal him and make a show of helping Ant and-

Bad found himself retching into the sink before he could really think about it, acid burning in his throat and stomach twisting painfully from the need to expel its contents. 

They had hurt Skeppy because of him.  Because of his deal.  

Bad’s eyes burned with unshed tears, though those could be attributed to his sudden sickness.  He would have to pretend he ate something that didn’t settle with him.

A hysterical thought.  Nothing settled with him.  This was going to happen again, and he wouldn’t even know to who.  He didn’t know what to do. 

It was all his fault.

~:~

"What?" Sapnap asked, shaking his head to clear it as though that would better help him understand the statement, as if it was a simple matter of having water trapped in his ears or something. 

"They're having a private competition to redo tournament bracket one," Hannah repeated to him, looking unfairly composed for someone who had made it all the way to the semifinals.  She had made her way into the royal box shortly after Philza's announcement, and while Sapnap would really like to get an eye on Bad, his attention was understandably shifted. "Specifically, to redo all the fights that McChill had been a part of." 

"But they didn't disqualify him until the finals," Sapnap pointed out. "They can't undo his work for the entire competition without causing a riot from the Essempis."

"They can when the guy immediately collapses after the finals with clear indications of severe potion backlash," Hannah countered with one perfectly quirked brow. "Potions he nor any of the other competitors were supposed to be taking.  He couldn't properly retreat to lick his wounds in peace because he was taken to the holding cells, so now the entirety of his performance in the tournament is being tossed out." She cocked her head to the side, the slightest grin pulling at her lips. "They won't redo the finals – not after that show the others put on – but they're giving the rest of the tournament one competitors a chance to get their names in as finalists."

"Um," Sapnap said, torn, because he was always supposed to lose his tournament bracket – just to a different Essempi representative – and he couldn't imagine that mission objective would have changed. "Let me just talk to Techno."

He wasn't sure when he'd get a chance, of course.  The large piglin hybrid was looking after both Quackity and Wilbur on his own right now, with Foolish keeping Ant company and Philza having whisked off to do who knew what – Sapnap should probably be worried about that, considering how protective Philza had been all day.  The fact that the avian had actually torn himself from his mates' sides to pursue something else spoke volumes that they should probably be concerned about, but Karl's supportive hand against his bicep was enough to remind Sapnap that he didn't actually have to solve all of his parents' problems.  He could still look in later, of course, but for now, he could focus on himself.

"I may or may not have spoken with Duchess Wastaken," Hannah began with a wink, her gaze narrowing with a look of satisfaction. "You have been given full permission to give them hell.  The Essempis already made a mess of things – George already had to apologize, however little they might care about that – the point is, there is no ego to stroke with imaginary validation, so you may as well go all in and show them what they get for trying to mess with the crown." 

"Oh," Sapnap said, his combustion core spinning with a comforting hum. "I think that would be nice." 

"You have all our support," Hannah said before clearing her throat, a small flush beginning to bloom on her cheeks. "Now, um- I'm going to go talk to Tina." 

"Good luck, Viscount," Karl said with a strange, teasing sing-song voice that had Hannah flashing the briefest of scowls in his direction before the dryad hybrid cut a path to where Tina was currently stuffing her face with warm balls of fried dough the servants had been preparing fresh – likely for the bearers, but as both were occupied, Tina was making the most of things.  Sapnap did not blame her in the slightest, though he couldn't dwell on it much before he turned his attention back to Karl. 

"What do you think?" Sapnap pressed. "Should I go for it?"

"Are you kidding?" Karl asked, a laugh in his tone. "Don't be a nimrod; show those guys what you're made of!" 

It was enough for Sapnap.

Time seemed to fly after that.  Sapnap and the other knights that had been taken out by McChill were rounded up and brought to one of the private training arenas used by the castle knight orders.  Duchess Wastaken was on hand to act as a referee, and Marquess Pete and Puffy had both shifted to properly oversee the re-trial.  The audience also sported a generous scattering of nobility that Sapnap would later learn were present to give legitimacy to the second competition, with Techno, Foolish, and Bad present to represent the royals.  Sapnap didn't really see George or the new Duke Awe in attendance, but as Quackity also wasn't present, he didn't worry too much about the balance of forces getting thrown off. 

"Hey," Karl had said just before Sapnap had retreated to the knight waiting area, the peacekeeper bending down to press a kiss against Sapnap's cheek. "Go get 'em." 

"Yep," Sapnap had rasped out, pressing a hand to his face, skin flaring with a distinct warmth as he thought about how easily Karl had done that, had demonstrated his care in public. "Yep, I will just- I will do that."

"Yeah, you will," Karl giggled with that melodious tone of his before retreating with a certain sway of his hips that he knew Sapnap couldn't stare at no matter how much he wanted to, and it was with a giddy anticipation that Sapnap moved to join the other knights, the anxiety that seemed to follow him around seeming to dissipate in light of his partner's actions. 

This wasn't that big a deal, he just needed to follow his training.  He'd done enough, and while he didn't want to let Skeppy or his family down, he already knew that they wouldn't care if he lost. 

Which was just an added bonus when Sapnap didn't come close to losing, easily cutting his way through the other knights – including the Essempi representative he was supposed to throw to the first time around – with ease. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, we present you the finalist of bracket one!" Puffy cheered. "Prince Sapnap Craft-Halo!  Please be sure to offer you congratulations at the Victory Banquet coming up in an hour!"

"An hour?" Sapnap griped as he and Karl all but sprinted back to his suite in the royal wing, the two of them rushing through their independent beauty routines. "That's like, no time at all!" 

"You should have defeated them faster," Karl hummed cheerfully, each move taken with a distinct bounce in his step, like he was so overfull with enthusiasm that he couldn't even think of sitting still. "Or I guess you could have lost."

"The fuck I could have," Sapnap huffed as he collected his formal banquet outfit to his chest, eyes set on the washroom where the tub was already running. "They got one chance for me to bow out; it's not happening again." 

"Language," Karl chided with a laugh. "You're so sexy when you're worked up." 

"I- um- yep, hi, thanks," Sapnap babbled out like the romantic genius that he was before beating a hasty retreat to the washroom for the world's fastest bath, the sound of Karl's contended Peacekeeper chortles ushering him onwards. 

They hadn't really discussed other aspects of their relationship yet, but Sapnap had no doubt that they would, or that when they did, that they could take however long they needed to do so.  Karl wasn't in a rush, and that patience was a gift that Sapnap would never take for granted. 

Still, it was nice. Karl was nice, and Sapnap was steadily beginning to feel less guilty for spending time with him.  He couldn't interfere with George's life right now – the panther hybrid would have to come to him on his own terms.  Dream would have to come back to them on his own terms.  Until then, it was fair for Sapnap to have Karl.  He was allowed that, and it was hard to think of anyone else standing by his side for the victory banquet when the time came.

Once more, the royal bearers were nowhere to be seen – likely worn out from the events of that afternoon.  Despite being in the castle proper, Sapnap knew they derived the most comfort from their own wing.  Sapnap would visit them later, if they were willing, but for now, they had the Finalist Award Ceremony.

"Oh, hell yeah," Punz murmured, subtly bumping their fists together as they lined up for the announcements. "Knew you had it in you, Sappers." 

"It's just nice to keep those cheating assholes out," Sapnap murmured, cheeks filling with warm as he restrained the urge to run a hand through his hair.  Karl had already helped him style it with those special heat-resistant products that Wilbur had gotten for him, and while Sapnap knew that the bunny hybrid would be the last person who cared if Sapnap looked in disarray, Sapnap didn't want to nullify Karl's care and consideration just because he was feeling a bit nervous, if wonderfully satisfied. 

"Sure," Punz laughed, a knowing glint in his eye. "That's the only thing you cared about." 

"Maybe I wanted my name in the history books too," Sapnap allowed, bumping their shoulders together. 

Perhaps he had been the slightest bit disheartened when he had lost to McChill, for all that it had been a logical loss.  Fire versus ice in an environment that favored the latter was always going to be an uphill battle, and that was before illegal potions were thrown into the mix.  Still, he'd been expecting to get at least midway through his bracket – perhaps to the semifinals – to put on a proper showing. He could only imagine the things the other knights had babbled behind his back after he'd left – things he still couldn't get Punz to talk about – and as much as he wanted to shrug it off, as much as he smiled and tried to show how very little he cared about it to avoid giving their enemies the satisfaction of seeing him sweat – there was still a part of Sapnap that had been hurt.  Perhaps he would never be well suited for politics; which made him all the more thankful that he was just a prince in name, rather than one that bore any real expectation towards consistent leadership. 

"Fair enough," Punz said, giving an odd shrug before squinting, making a quick inspection of their surroundings. "Don't think Skeppy's going to make it." 

"Oh." Sapnap blinked. "Was Ant..."

"Super rattled and possessive and feeling his bearer oats," Punz countered with a smirk. "He's had enough heart attacks for one day.  Took Skeppy back to his nest and I don't think we're going to be seeing either of them anytime soon."

"And Skeppy-" Sapnap began, choosing his words carefully. "Is he- is he okay?"

"He seemed startled more than anything else," Punz replied, kind enough to cut straight to the point. "But yeah, now he can have bones of literal diamond – dude's untouchable when he full shifts.  There were a few moments where we were afraid that he wouldn't be able to switch back, but a pouting Ant seemed to be all the motivation Skeppy needed." 

"Of course," Sapnap said, swallowing a laugh. "I'm glad they're both okay."

"Me too," Punz murmured. "That was far too close for comfort.  I..." He trailed off, seeming conflicted.

"What?"

"I just- I was trying to find McChill first," Punz admitted. "I should have disengaged from Freddo and pretended to run like a little coward until I found McChill.  I should have been the one fighting him." 

"My dude, you are great, but you almost definitely would have gotten murdered," Sapnap said. "This was for the best." 

"It could have ended differently though," Punz said, a light scowl tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And I'm the more expendable one."

And if that just didn't set off every alarm bell in Sapnap's mind, he didn't know what would. "I'm telling Connor you said that, because not one of us is expendable," Sapnap said, trying to keep his tone stern. "And secondly, you need therapy."

Punz made a face. "I'm being realistic-"

"No, no, nope, no- I don't care if Skeppy has a bearer, you are just as important, what the fuck, man?"

"Oh," Punz blinked, seeming chastised. "I uh... I didn't think-"

"That your statement would garner a dramatic response?" Sapnap countered. "Well, it fucking does, man.  No one is a pawn here, we are all like- I don't know, queens or whatever." 

"King of pep talks, you are," Punz said, the lightest smile tugging at his lips. "Okay, I'll make an appointment with one of Ponk's new assistants.  Do some maintenance."

"It's been a crazy time for everyone," Sapnap agreed. "We have to look after ourselves."

"Please tell that to George," Punz grumbled.

Before Sapnap could even think to formulate a response, the finalists were called forward.  Philza formally pardoned Skeppy from the event – deferring his reward until later, which sent a ripple of pleased chuckles and supportive purrs throughout the crowd as everyone understood exactly what was holding him up.  With that, they moved onto the rewards for the finalists – going from first to fourth place. 

Freddo was awarded a noble title of his own and earned the right for the house he had previously been pledged to – House Jones – to be acknowledged as an Antarctican Lineage.  Meaning that the new Duke Awe was now married to Duchess Awe and Marquess Mogar Jones, solidifying the family's stance in the empire while giving a nod to their roots in Achieveburg.  Punz was also awarded a title and a manor in the capital, as he so rightly deserved, and then it was Sapnap's turn.

Truth be told, he hadn't been awarded much opportunity to think about what he wanted.  He hadn't been slated to win, after all, so he'd never had to consider it.  There had been minimal time between the conclusion of the retrial and the banquet, so he hadn't been able to talk strategy with any of his pack elders, but that was fine – Sapnap had placed fourth, after all.  He would be granted something – perhaps a property of his own, or he could take over one of the knight legions or something, he wouldn't have to think of anything.

At least, this was his thought before Philza aimed a look of narrow-eyed consideration his way, the emperor's head cocked to the side.  His gaze was harder than usual, but there was a smile on his lips – a soft sort of pride that Sapnap was able to see now that he wasn't trying to convince himself it wasn't there.  Sapanp wasn't entirely sure what had happened to have Philza miss the second tournament, but he seemed to have enjoyed the results well enough, baring his teeth in a display that could just as easily be a show of dominance as it was joy. 

"As my son, you have no need for a new title," Philza allowed, setting things in motion with a slow drawl that he must have perfected under Eret's tutelage.  The late Essempi, despite being notoriously stoic, always had a strong sense of dramatics and when they should or should not be employed. "And while I have plenty of land to bestow you, I'd rather keep you close."

That uh- certainly played into his overprotective nature, so Sapnap wasn't surprised by it, for all that he could see Puffy biting back a grimace – something that would only be noticed by those that considered themselves close allies and knew her especially well.

"You have done remarkably well, my son," Philza continued, his grin shifting into more of a wicked smirk.  "As such, I would like to hear what you may like as a reward." 

Just behind him, over his shoulder, Sapnap heard Punz take in a sharp inhale.  It was soft, low enough that it likely didn’t carry, but it sufficiently conveyed the distress that Sapnap himself could not allow to cloud his features.  Despite being a pack that thrived on contingency plan after contingency plan as a means to counter their anxiety and accumulated trauma, Sapnap had never been slated to be in this position.  He floundered for a moment, struggling to determine what he might want.

There was the instinctual urge to request a blessing over his and Karl’s relationship – thus solidifying it in the public eye.  Strategically, it would benefit his personal life in the long run, but he knew that if he wanted to continue to have a thriving relationship with Karl, he couldn’t request such a thing on impulse.  He would have needed to talk to his partner beforehand, which immediately eliminated that option.

If he tried to think more politically, he could request to lend his aid to George and Dream’s future wedding.  That, too, was an entirely selfish desire, one that undercut the Essempi’s authority (they might hate George, but that didn’t mean they would welcome any meddling from the crown) and stir up further discontent amongst the Aristocratic faction.  They wouldn’t be able to argue it, as Sapnap had performed well enough to deserve such things, and while George and Duchess Wastaken could do what they could to spin the story in the best way possible, Sapnap didn’t want to put anymore unnecessary work on their shoulders.

Maybe he could ask to be godfather of Quackity’s future child?  Or perhaps he should ask for something that symbolized high status but was difficult to achieve, like a Netherite sword enchanted for flame resistance.  It was embarrassing to think that he already had Netherite armor courtesy of the Wastakens – in truth, he also had a Netherite sword – but maybe he could pretend to take up dual wielding…?

There was one thing he greatly desired, one that he knew would be welcomed by the parties involved, but he didn’t know if this was the place for it.  Truth be told, it was already on its way to coming into being if he just waited, but asking for it directly – if he could achieve it indirectly, it would save the reputations of those involved.  They could have a happy ending, it just meant he would be considering a responsibility beyond the scope of anything he wanted.  All along, Sapnap had only ever desired to take care of his family and friends, and those numbers had steadily increased over the past year.  What had started as one went to two, then three, and then dozens, and sometimes it was so much that Sapnap could barely comprehend it.  It was such a jarring dichotomy from the isolation he’d been raised in.  He’d only managed to adapt because he’d been young when they’d come to the Overworld, but in truth, he wasn’t sure how Bad had done it.

Bad, who had accepted a position as crown prince despite not really loving it, all because he wanted to support the family that had claimed Sapnap.

It was time for Sapnap to return the favor.

“Defending the honor of my family line is more than enough for me, your majesty,” Sapnap admitted, bowing his head in a show of respect. “I do have a request, though it may be too impertinent considering my placement in the tournament.”

“A placement that very well may have been higher without outside manipulations,” Philza said, his expression a cool mask that likely had the rest of the audience suppressing shivers, reminding them just exactly what would happen to those that attempted to make fools of the crown. “Amuse me, son – what is this impertinent request?”

Sapnap took in a slow, steady breath, suppressing the jitters in his hands derived from the flood of adrenaline that crashed over him.  He couldn’t afford to show any trepidation now – he had to be a cocky, confident protector.  He had to look like an opportunist, because that was the story that would be most believable.

“When the next ender dragon awakens,” Sapnap began, gathering all his courage, his might, the belief in his skills as he locked eyes with his father. “I would like the chance to fight it in place of my brother.”

It was a rite of passage, after all.  The same rite that Wilbur had been training for that he’d passed on to Bad who had accepted it despite not being a warrior.  To rule the Antarctic Empire was to be a force of great renown in some capacity, and whether that required recruiting and coordinating a team of cutthroat warriors or simply being an outstanding warrior in one’s own right to do so – it mattered not.  So long as the Ender Dragon was safely defeated and the gate resealed until the next generation could take over, the ruling authority of the empire could not be put into question.

“Oh?” Philza’s pupils narrowed into the same angry slits he adopted whenever he was preparing for a battle, and Sapnap fought not to tremble under the intensity. “Is this your bid for a new title after all?”

He did not say it, but the ripple of gasps and murmurs amongst the crowd indicated that the intent was passed on clear enough.  To take on the Ender Dragon in place of his brother rather than beside his brother meant that Sapnap was very clearly asking for one thing. 

To be put in contention for the position of crown prince.

Bad had spent the entirety of his life protecting Sapnap.  It was Sapnap’s turn to return the favor.

“I believe I have more than adequately demonstrated my abilities,” Sapnap pretended to boast – alluding to both his demonstration in the arena and the love that he had garnered from his mothers – whose approval would make his reputation unshakable. “I voluntarily took up my blade in defense of our empire and the vulnerable citizens of Manburg in the war.  I have taken down strongholds, withers, and proved my merit in the eyes of the public, and my brother, while clever, is better suited for his role as doctor.  Please.” He bowed his head again. “Grant me this, your majesty.”

There was a moment of painful deliberation, Philza’s body tense as though he were waging through some sort of internal conflict.  Sapnap was only able to recognize as much through prolonged exposure – a twitch of Philza’s wing there, a slight cock to his head, but eventually-

Eventually, Philza grinned, rakish and just a bit bloodthirsty, and began a slow, impressed clap.

“That’s my boy,” he whispered, rising to his feet. “Ready to fight for what you want.  Very well-” He raised his hand, as though it was needed to pull the attention of the surrounding nobles. “From this day forth, Bad Halo-Craft is demoted and Sapnap Halo-Craft granted the title of Crown Prince.  All hail the future of the empire!”

Sapnap was genuinely surprised by the cheers met with this declaration, though Bad had been making an effort to lower his reputation.  He’d wanted Niki to take over, but Sapnap knew that he was the better choice.  He had been the one who was chosen by Philza, after all, that was loved by Quackity.  That was a warrior of great renown.  He might have lost to a cheater, but he wouldn’t lose the war.

He’d already proven how good he was at winning those.

Chapter Text

Ant was a goddamn idiot.

Or rather, he had been a goddamn idiot, but now he wasn't, and truth be told, he could dismiss his previous idiocy due to pre-heat and post-heat brain and he was pretty sure no one would hold it against him like- at all- to the point where he didn't even hold it against himself, because he understood that it had been a situation rife with heightened emotions – of anxiety towards his debut and fear over the investigation and the constant all-consuming worry about Eret still potentially being alive somehow – fear that the parties that had turned Eret and Sam against each other might be at work elsewhere – the point was, he was but one tiny kitty in the maelstrom that was Antarctican politics, and he could be forgiven for maybe losing his head for a moment. 

And then he'd promptly gotten it back via some assistance from his adorable baby brother.

"Look," Josh had begun – a strong start – expression set in a picture of perfect resolve that did little to hide the flush coloring his features or his strong aversion to any kind of eye contact with Ant. "What you do with Skeppy in private is your business, but as I would wish Grandpa's version of 'the talk' on literally no one, I'll only ask if both you and Skeppy know enough about intimate relations to approach them safely."

"We do!" Ant had hissed, his baby's adorable expression of bashful seriousness not quite enough to overwhelm his affront. "We have had a thorough discussion of boundaries and how we'll communicate during the deed."

"Oh good," Josh didn't even bother pretending to mask the way his shoulders slumped in an overwhelming demonstration of relief. "Great.  I'm both glad and unsurprised."

"As you should be," Ant sniffed, getting his feet back under him by allowing his bearer haughtiness to take over.

"Just don't go too wild with the toys," Josh continued, pointedly fixing his gaze towards a particularly interesting patch of floor off to the side. "I get the feeling that Skeppy and Bad were on the more vanilla side of things, and considering your sex toy monopoly... again, it's none of my business what you do in private-"

"Oh," Ant interrupted as he was brutally caught off guard by a certain thought. "I have a sex toy monopoly."

That, at least, got Josh to actually look at him, but now it was Ant's head that was in the clouds because-

Well, it had started off in a somewhat innocuous fashion.  

Sam had been meticulous about maintaining his records, which meant that his office – compared to most – was kept with the highest standards of cleanliness.  This applied to all aspects of his life, and Ant had adhered himself to this method of operation as fervently as possible in an effort to demonstrate both his usefulness and his appropriateness for being gifted his position as assistant to the Infrastructure Guild head.  Truthfully, he could have done nothing and Sam wouldn't have cared, but young Ant had known that and fought to spite that mindset, because he was humored by no one, damnit.  So he'd been diligent and thorough and overhauled the entire Central Infrastructure Guild's office organizational system, creating a proper catalogue and filing system, and redoing the entire section in the central royal library dedicated to their blueprints.  It was something Sam would have likely done himself in time, and Ant had taken great pleasure in spearheading the effort.

At that point, they had been together a few years, to the point where Sam trusted Ant with his satchel.  Not the secret, secret satchel – the thin leather folder Sam kept safely tucked at the small of his back beneath his tunic – but his official satchel that held very important paperwork was still a weighty responsibility to be saddled with, and Ant had not taken the permission lightly.  With access to that mystical satchel, Ant was allowed to organize even more paperwork, to tailor Sam's schedule to be its most efficient.  It was a grand evolution in their partnership, and Ant had felt pleased as punch, until-

"That is- I'm so sorry," Sam said one day, more or less snatching one of the documents out of Ant's hand before he could get a proper look at it. "Sorry, I'm so sorry – that was supposed to stay home.  I'm very sorry, Ant - that was terribly inappropriate and I promise I wasn't making any advances-"

At that point, Ant had blinked dumbly, shifting his gaze between a nervous Sam and the empty space between his palms that had once been holding paperwork.  Truth be told, he was more concerned with the crack in the ever-resolute Sam's disposition more than anything else.  He rarely saw Sam this genuinely worried. 

"Sam," Ant said, cutting off the creeper hybrid’s rambling at the pass, because that was what this was- it was rambling, Sam was rambling, which was a thing he didn't do. "I didn't even see it."

Sam paused, wide eyes turning towards Ant as though to seek some kind of visual confirmation and then, upon not getting snarled at, relaxed as much as he ever did. "Okay," Sam said, folding up the document into a tiny envelope that he then snuck into a secret inner pocket of his tunic. "That's good.  Still, I apologize.  I'll be more diligent with my paperwork going forward." 

Well that just- explained nothing.

"What is it?" Ant asked, his insatiable curiosity now thoroughly piqued. "Wait- is this like a secret government thing that you can't tell me about?"

Because as much as Sam denied it, he almost certainly had a hand in some kind of shady dealings that kept the Antarctic Empire on top.  He was all noble about keeping Ant out of it for his own safety, which was thoughtful in a way that left Ant jumbled up but was also he guessed a bit cute.

"Not like that," Sam said, dismissing it with a wave of his hands.  He still wasn't meeting Ant's eyes. "No, this is- it's a project that's more private in nature, a personal challenge, but it regards the more intimate aspects of um- physical pleasure, which makes it terribly inappropriate for anyone else's eyes."

With that, he turned back towards his desk, apparently done with the conversation.  As though he had not just casually alluded to-

"Sam," Ant gasped, mind a furious whirl of possibilities as he rounded the front of his boss's desk. "Did you make sex redstone?" 

The protector froze – going all brittle.

Oh.  Oh, he had.  The dog. 

"Saaaaaam," Ant cooed, smile terribly wide as the pieces fell together, as Sam's unease suddenly made sense and wow, wow, he didn't know his boss had it in him, Ant had just kind of assumed that he was cheerfully celibate or whatever. "That sounds so cool."

Sam somehow managed to freeze more. It was very impressive. "It does?" 

"It's an entirely unexplored market!" Ant continued. "Why shouldn't you capitalize on something like that?  One, you get a fun new challenge to explore, two – you can bring more profit to your duchy and three, you can make a lot of other people happy.  I mean- in theory." Ant couldn't honestly conceive what, exactly, Sam was building that explored physical pleasure, but he had some ideas.  Just- there was a limited handful of options. 

"I don't-" Sam blinked, one of those slow ones, which meant Ant had caught him off guard. "I wasn't going to sell it.  I don't-" He frowned, brows furrowed in concentration. "You think there's a market for it?"

"Of course there's a market for it!" Ant burst, pleased to be able to build up Sam's confidence in what seemed to be a rare personal interest for him. "You don't have to sell anything if you don't want to, but you also don't have to be ashamed of what you're doing."

Which seemed like a perfectly reasonable response from a conservative noble upbringing. 

Like, the Awes didn't seem as bad as the Essempis, but no one seemed as bad as the Essempis.

Sam turned to properly look at him, his brows still furrowed for all that most might miss it, the shifting of his expression masked with the camouflaging scales that allowed him to blend so well into the wilderness.  

But Ant could see it, because Ant was special.  Or at least, he didn't have nuts for brains.

"I had never thought that others might be interested in this," Sam admitted. "It was more of an intellectual curiosity than anything else."

"I think you'd be surprised by the demand you'll face once your company's products are deemed reputable," Ant offered. "It sounds like a fun challenge."

At least, if Sam ever got bored.  It wasn't like he didn't have enough on his hands, however.  It made sense that this would never get past the prototype phase.  There was, of course, a grand difference between satisfying one's curiosity with personal projects and establishing an entirely new corporation whose entire executive board would almost certainly have to be kept secret.  It was one thing to sell sex paraphernalia, and it was entirely another to be known for selling sex paraphernalia.

Still, Ant was hit with a wave of fondness as he considered the extents of Sam's genius.  How his idle curiosity could accidentally expose an entirely new economic market.  

"Would you like it?" Sam asked suddenly, cutting off Ant's thoughts.

The cat hybrid paused, not jumping to conclusions.  With Sam, it was almost always safe to assume that they weren't on the same page. "The blueprint?"

"The challenge," Sam clarified. "I'd be happy to provide my blueprints and resources if you would like to establish a company for these wares.  Get some profit out of them."

Ant had to force himself to pause, to ignore the reflexive response that was hissing in the face of grand gestures.

He could not, of course, entirely suppress his scowl. "You're just trying to find another way to spoil me."

"I suppose for that I am partially guilty," Sam allowed with a small grin. "But the profit isn't guaranteed.  As you said, you'd have to work to make the company reputable, have to establish a factory and quality controls, secret distributions, hiring employees and ensuring all their paperwork is properly put together-"

"You jerk," Ant interrupted halfheartedly, his tail swishing with irritation behind him. "That sounds like something I would love to do."

He was out of big projects, after all, and he hated when Sam's genius wasn’t properly appreciated. 

"Then do it," Sam said, seeming pleased as punch. "And I will support you entirely." 

It was probably an odd enterprise for a bearer to engage with their fatherly-figure in, but Ant and Sam had always defied expectations.  Ant set up the company – burying himself in the law library until he could make the paperwork airtight, then got to work recruiting reputable members of society to work as his arms and legs.  This would be a delicate operation, after all. This wasn't like selling farming equipment, this was something that could be easily turned into something lewd or gross – Ant had to pick people who would stay professional and respectful.  He had to recruit engineers that could recreate and expand on Sam's work because the duke couldn't always be involved.  It was a delicate game to sell goods that no one had ever heard of, but Ant found surprising luck with the capital's brothels. 

He started small with safe, sanitary, and pleasantly scented lubricants.  From there, they were able to jump to simple toys, and the ones with vibrating functions seemed to be a big hit.  Once they had been released in the highest rated brothel, it wasn't long before its customers wanted to make purchases for their personal usage.  Ant sold all of these through the brothels – awarding the facilities a cut of the profits in return for their salesmanship, and for those too shy to approach such establishments, Ant had created a subtle storefront nestled between a variety of respectable businesses.  At first glance, it simply would pajamas and underclothes of the highest quality – nightgowns and dressing robes, slippers and hair scarves.  There was a small section for beauty products – polishes that would make claws different colors for a short period of time, fur gloss, special brushes – things like that.  But for those that knew the code, they could be taken to a private, well-maintained purchase area in the back where their personal shopper would assist them as professionally as possible.  Everyone signed confidentiality agreements, everyone's privacy was protected, and everyone could secure their way to a good time. Ant had even created a line of glamorous but showy clothing that was exclusively for the brothel workers – created from luxurious fabric that was potion-treated for easy stain removal.  

He'd had so much fun solving the various problems and coming up with creative solutions that he hadn't realized he was the head of a very profitable company until a full year of its operations was safely on its feet. 

"Holy shit, Sam," Ant had burst, waving a note with his allotted paycheck in Sam's face. "We're rich!"

"You're rich," Sam corrected, somewhat smug. "It's your company."

"You have to be compensated for your work," Ant threatened. 

"I would never deny you such things," Sam allowed. "But that would hardly make a dent in your earnings." He offered a polite bow to Ant. "Congratulations, Ant, you are now one of the most successful businessmen in the capital – now you just have to do the most difficult thing of all – maintain."

It had been the last statement that had sealed the deal.  Without that challenge, Ant's attention might have drifted elsewhere, but Sam was right.  Ant had to maintain his success.  He had to constantly look out for sabotage and copy cats, had to plant seeds in social circles to keep society's opinion positive.  He had workers depending on him now for steady employment, and he couldn't risk ruining their livelihoods, so he threw his all into it.  What parts of him were not dedicated to Sam and Josh and his work at the Infrastructure Guild – to his friends – he used on his company.

He built.  He reinforced.  He trained and trained and trained until it got to the point where the company could just kind of... run itself.

And that was what it was doing.

Ant still reviewed the important documents, of course, to make sure no corruption had taken place (in light of Schlatt, everyone was wary of creative accounting), but he had used his bearer judgement to hire the most reliable of people, and they had done their job well.  Everyone had done their job well, including the branch stores that spread throughout the kingdom, until Ant might be a teeny tiny, itty-bitty millionaire.

Look, sex sold, and those personal intricate machines that had to be installed in private were not cheap commodities.  Ant made a bank off those.

He was a bearer with money – most of which he didn't think about save for when he wanted to spoil his baby brothers – but the more important part of this revelation was that he was the millionaire owner of a sex toy company.  Which meant that he was privy to the special products that never got sold on account of them being too difficult to reproduce in mass.  Those little treasures were for Ant and Ant alone, and among them was a delightful lubricant that was great at making things loose. 

"Hell yeah," Skeppy breathed as they collapsed next to each other in Ant's nest, the golem hybrid seeming just as dazed as Ant felt. "That was amazing.  Not that- you were amazing before-"

"I liked it too," Ant reminded him, feeling terribly triumphant.  Thank goodness for Sam.  Ant wasn't going to ask why he had created this special lubricant, but it did wonders for his uncooperative bearing channel, allowing Ant and Skeppy to connect in a way that was utterly delightful. 

Whether Ant bore children or not, he and Skeppy were going to have a good time in the bedroom, that was for sure.

"'Liked' is an understatement," Skeppy said, still trying to catch his breath.  Ant supposed that their copulation had been rather vigorous, and that without the tournament's worth of exertion he'd engaged in just that afternoon. "Loved.  Cherished.  Awed to the point of internal combustion."

"Awwww," Ant cooed, shifting so he could use Skeppy's chest as his pillow, opting to ignore the mess of sticky fluids that lingered between his legs.  They could deal with that in a few minutes. "Don't go goopy on me, sir, I want to ride you again later." 

"Ngh," was Skeppy's coherent reply, but his hold on Ant was firm, the fingers he caressed down the bearer's back a welcome tease. "I'm going to have the best death."

"Have that best death decades from now," Ant chastised. "I want to keep you around for a long time."

"Aw, Ant," Skeppy cooed, shifting to pepper Ant's hair with a few chaste kisses. "Back at you, bud."

"I mean it," Ant urged. "Today was terrifying." 

Skeppy tensed – a reflexive response – before immediately relaxing, seemingly for Ant's benefit. "Yeah," he murmured, voice coming in a low rasp. "That was..."

"You could have died," Ant said, his throat thick, and he knew they'd already- they'd talking about this, they'd hugged, cried, celebrated, but it was still a lot to consider.

"I won't have to fight in another tournament anytime soon," Skeppy offered. "I've proven my worth." 

"I know that, it's just- what if they try to harm you in other ways?" Ant asked, pushing himself upright.  As much as his instincts longed to stay in his nest, hoarding his protector away from the rest of the world, this felt like too important a conversation to take sitting down. "What did the Essempis even gain from targeting you?  Were they trying to lash out at Techno?" 

"I think I was more of a means to an end than anything," Skeppy said, dutifully following Ant into a sitting position. "Like, it wasn't about me personally, I don't think.  I was just a convenient target."

"But McChill wasn't that aggressive towards Sapnap."

"That was also his second match," Skeppy pointed out. "If he killed a prince in the second round, he would get arrested and disqualified in short order – there's no way that could be seen as anything other than intentional.  But since he waited for the final – we've been fighting all day; it would be understandable for his control to slip.  He'd still get punished, but the idea of intentional murder could be swept under the rug." Skeppy sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe I should have thrown my semifinals match.  It wasn't like I was ever going to win, I just- I wanted to put on a good showing for you." 

"Skeppy," Ant whispered, his eyes getting hot as he dwelled on the effort his protector wanted to put forth for him – someone who had been out of his reach for so long, whom Ant had assumed would remain out of his reach until the day he died – who genuinely loved and cared for him, who wanted to reflect well on Ant, when Ant only wanted him to be happy.  For Skeppy, Ant mattered that much.  

"And maybe I was a bit bitter about Sapnap," Skeppy huffed. "And all the garbage they were saying about him.  He was my guard partner, so I thought- I don't know, my success could make up for him, even though he only lost because McChill was cheating.  It was stupid."

"It's not stupid," Ant burst, wrapping his arms around Skeppy's neck so he could nuzzle into the golem hybrid's shoulder, giving him a proper scent.  It was still subtle after all those years of suppressants, but this way, Ant got a bit of Skeppy's musk as well, which he considered a win. "You fought for our baby and I'm glad for it, and I know this situation won't happen again, it was just scary." 

"I know," Skeppy murmured, tugging Ant properly into his lap. "And I'm sorry." 

"Just- don't leave me," Ant whispered, sinking into the protector's hold. "I just got you, and Bad needs you too.  We're going to figure out things with him eventually, and you need to be here for that."

Beneath his hold, Skeppy went still. "Do you think that was the point?"

"What?" Ant asked, pulling back for all that he really, really didn't want to. 

"It just- it seemed so random," Skeppy said. "But they cut Bad off from his blackmailer by constantly having his monitored.  Do you think that this attack against me- that might have been a message to him?"

Ant's chest went tight. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Maybe it's nothing," Skeppy allowed. "But I think it's something to consider."

Ant swallowed hard. "We should-"

"Bathe," Skeppy interrupted. "We're going to get clean and soak and cuddle and take our time getting ready and then we're going to worry about everyone else.  Foolish, Duke Wastaken, and that shark guy will keep an eye on Bad and there's no way that George won't assist with the cheating investigation, so we're going to let everyone else take care of things for a bit before we start borrowing trouble." 

Skeppy was right, after all.  If it had been a message, the pertinent parties had already been notified.  There wasn't much they themselves could do, and rushing into things without thought, entirely fueled by emotion, wasn't going to help anyone.

Ant sighed. "Let's get cleaned up," he agreed, deciding that an hour delay couldn't make that much more of a difference.

He was also somewhat wrong.

They missed the victory banquet, which Ant hadn't been too bothered about as Philza had given him explicit permission to do so.  They'd rejoined the others who had retreated to the biggest lounge in the emperor's suite – which should have been a clue as to the severity of the situation.  For emotional bonding and grounding, the royal flock tended to use the bearers' suite, so the fact that they had ignored the space meant that they either weren't invited, or that the bearers were attempting to keep the youngest pups out of things.  Seeing as Ant was their head nanny, he should probably check in on them, but a harried butler had waved Ant and Skeppy towards Philza's space with a beseeching wide-eyed look, and that had sealed their fate.

Yelling could be heard the moment they opened the door.

"He made my baby crown prince?!" That was Quackity that was snarling – Quackity, itty bitty Quackity who'd weathered the utter derision that was Schlatt with a look of composed dignity.  That was Quackity – fierce and angry and superbly hormonal who was yelling – at Techno, which was the even more bizarre part – the piglin hybrid taking it with an unyielding expression as he stayed firmly planted in front of the door that led deeper into the suite to Philza's sleeping quarters. "And you let him?"

"Love," Techno tried. "I technically don't outrank him-"

Quackity hissed at him, and Techno managed to bear it with little more than a subtle flinch, which was impressive in its own right. "Did he even think about how that would affect Bad?!" Quackity snarled. "We still haven't- we have to do this carefully- he should have just given Sapnap land or something-"

"Sapnap asked," Techno said with a tone that implied this hadn't been the first time he'd brought this up. "And Philza was already unbalanced- he's already been yelled at by a bearer once today-"

"He deserves it!" Quackity snapped. "He's not taking care of my babies-"

"Quackity," Techno interrupted, his tone pleading. "Please, we're all floundering right now.  We're all trying so hard." 

Techno's tone – bare and vulnerable as it was – was enough to strike right at Ant's core. It seemed to do the same to Quackity who froze, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, wings tense, just like that seemed to collapse in on himself, shoulders slumping as the bearer sagging forward until he collapsed into Techno's arms, finally losing the fight with his tears. 

It took a few moments for Skeppy and Ant to remember how to breathe, how to function, in light of such grief. 

"What happened?" Skeppy rasped, startling Ant. "What- Sapnap's crown prince now?" 

"It's a long story," Techno said, seeming unbearably weary. "Or a short one, I suppose.  It-" Quackity released a small noise of grief, and Techno properly scooped him up as though his husband weighed nothing. "I'm sorry, I'll have to get back to you, but here's a quick status update: Wilbur's with Philza in the emperor's suite-" He motioned behind him. "Foolish is with Bad and that new shark guy who are currently talking to Ponk.  Punz and Connor are guarding the pups and finally, Sapnap, Karl and the others are all in Sapnap's suite, which is- you should probably go there." 

"Of course, papa, thank you," Skeppy said, his grip tightening on Ant's hand.

"You don't have to thank me," Techno sighed. "I'm proud of you, pup.  You did so well today.  I know I haven't gotten to speak with you as much as I would like, but I'm proud of you and I love you, and I- please check in with me later." 

"Of course," Skeppy repeated, but his tone was lighter. "I love you too, papa." 

"H-Hi, Skeppy," Quackity whined out, wiping at his tears. "I'm sorry, baby.  I'm- I'm proud of you too.  You did so good, I just-"

"We can talk about it later," Skeppy soothed.

"I've got him," Ant added. "Good bearer, good- thanks-thanks-heal-heal." 

Quackity clearly needed this time with his first protector to rebuild some of his walls, and Ant didn't blame him for it. 

"Good-good," Quackity cooed back, sounding just as unpracticed as Ant felt because he- much like Ant – much like Jack (and didn't that just hit like a dagger to the heart) – had hidden his second sex for the majority of his life.

Prime, they should form a book club or something. 

"Okay," Skeppy breathed after offering their farewells – it was clear that Quackity wasn't in any state to be moved, so they would be the ones that gave them privacy, moving with renewed purpose to Sapnap's suite, where they were also met with yelling.

At the very least, it was quieter than Quackity's. 

"It's what he wanted," Sapnap said, words tinged with a frustration that implied he'd already said this many times. "It seemed like the best time-"

"After that display with the McChills?" Niki cut in, and Ant had never heard her this angry before.  For all that she hadn't raised her voice, the quiet rage was all too easy to hear. "There's too much uncertainty in the air, Sapnap, you should have asked for time to consider a gift.  You would have been allowed it, and then we wouldn't be in this mess." 

"What mess?" Ant asked, immediately cutting a path to the baby brother he'd never been able to claim, settling in on Sapnap's free side and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  The fact that Karl wasn't immediately on his other side – that the bunny hybrid wasn't even on the same couch – likely did not say good things for the situation, the brunette peacekeeper standing off to the side with a neutral expression on his face that Sapnap seemed pointedly aware of, if the hunch of his shoulders was not a strong enough indication. 

"Hey guys," Sapnap greeted first, a tight grin pulling at his lips.  Exhaustion was clear in his gaze despite his put together ensemble, and despite seeing him here and present and in one piece, Ant couldn't fight the anxiety that clung to him like a second skin.  Across the room, standing shoulder to shoulder with Niki, was Josh, who also seemed unscathed, though Ant knew that he would be cuddling the other blaze hybrid (and Ranboo) as much as he could later.  His nerves just- couldn't take this. "Glad to see that you're okay."

"We're great," Skeppy said, moving to stand beside Karl, his gaze drifting between Sapnap and the bunny hybrid. "Now what's this about you being crown prince?"

"Sapnap asked to fight the ender dragon as his reward," Josh said, which just- "Philza granted him permission and made him crown prince in one fell swoop." 

Which was just- Which was-

"Hello, hello, hey-" A voice cooed, might have been cooing- Ant didn't know, couldn't tell- but there was a sweet tone pouring out from before him and it took him a few moments to realize that it was coming from Josh, who was kneeling now.  Hadn't he been standing though?  He'd been- he was by Niki, but now everyone was much closer and Josh was kneeling in front of Ant and Ant was wrapped around Sapnap like a damn blanket or something, the bearer up on his knees and Sapnap's head tucked under his chin.

"I don't-" Ant blinked, trying to fight off the haze of his instincts. "What happened?" 

"We lost you for a bit," Skeppy said, he was now on Sapnap's other side, his brows pinched in concern. "You got uh- very protective."

Despite it coming from Skeppy – Skeppy, whom Ant loved – the cat hybrid found himself overwhelmed with the desire to hiss because of course he was fucking angry, his baby- they'd given permission for his baby- an Ender Dragon, and granted, Bad also had to- but Ant had never been able to stop Bad from something he wanted to do and Techno had promised to get him all the best help and maybe Sapnap would get the same stuff but Sapnap was just a little baby, didn't they get that? They couldn't send Bad's baby to battle, he was a baby.

"Don't cry, Ant," Sapnap said, sounding strained as he gave Ant's arm a few awkward pats. "Please don't cry.  I was trying to help Bad; this was what he wanted." 

"But not like this," Ant croaked. "You're not supposed to throw yourself on the fire in his stead."

"What? Would it be better if it were Niki doing it?"

"Yes," Ant whined. "It would be so much better.  Niki's not a baby."

Sapnap sputtered. "I'm not-"

"You're his baby," Josh cut in – beautiful, wonderful, radiant, thoughtful Josh. 

"Oh," Sapnap said, seeming surprised by this.

But that-

"You're Bad's baby," Ant crooned. "You're his baby and he wanted to protect you."

And now he couldn't, and Ant didn't know how much that would devastate him, that Bad had been freed only for his brother to put himself in a dangerous position. 

"I'm an adult, Ant," Sapnap said, his words gentle. "And it's my turn to protect him, and more than that, I'm not fighting the Ender Dragon anytime soon.  Philza's fine.  I won't have to step up for like, another few decades.  That gives me plenty of time to train." 

Ant sniffed, not entirely pacified by this offering, but accepting it as better than nothing. "You will train very hard." 

"Yes, I promise," Sapnap said, and as the little flameball was a protector of his word, Ant didn't doubt that to be true.

The bearer swallowed hard, blinking back his tears, and took in a bunch of slow, steady breaths.  "Sorry guys," Ant said, forcing himself to detach from Sapnap.  The best he could do was to reduce himself to simply clinging to his arm, and all at once, Ant understood why Quackity had been so upset.  

"It's really not your fault," Karl said, offering a soft peacekeeper purr of comfort. "You're just worried.  We're all- we're all just worried." 

Sapnap adopted a look of conflict, clearly struggling for words, but Skeppy cut in before he could. "We don't need to waste time thinking about what we should have done, what matters is that it's done and we need to plan what to do from here." 

"Bad had already been dropping out of public favor," Niki allowed, though her expression was still set into a stoney look of annoyance. "So while this might be a welcome change, the aristocratic faction won't be pleased to have a new candidate that is so firmly in the crown's corner, especially when it is the result of one of their own members being disqualified from the competition." 

"So what was supposed to be a placating victory for them turned out to not be a victory at all," Josh deduced, hand a solid anchor against Ant's leg. 

"I mean-" Tina, who was apparently there and just hadn't spoken up before this point, raised her hand. "George got yelled at and had to take the fall for them, which could probably count as a win since they hate him too."

"Maybe that was the point of it," Niki mused. "They could have attempted to demonstrate that George was not as in control of things as he would like to be.  If their poor actions reflect on him, murdering Skeppy would have severely weakened his power base." 

"Can we-" Ant began, his voice tight. "Can we not talk about murder right now?" 

"Sorry," Niki said, and to her credit, she seemed genuinely apologetic about this. 

"We uh- we thought maybe someone might be sending a message to Bad," Skeppy voiced. "You know, a demonstration of what could happen if he kept trying to wiggle out of the limelight, but maybe it was a two-part attack, something that tried to achieve both goals." 

"We won't know until we hear back from the Wastakens," Niki sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to relieve a tension headache. "What a fucking shit show."

"Will George-" Sapnap began, tension gripping his frame. "Will he be okay?"

Niki offered him a sympathetic look. "If there's one good thing to come from this, it's that the world will soon know that George has a bearer in his corner."

Ant tensed. "What-"

"Duchess Awe," Karl explained. "They uh- yeah, very much revitalized the non-crown faction by being an avian bearer who is not enamored with the emperor."

"They hissed at Philza," Tina whispered. "Barely anyone saw the showdown but everyone knows about it.  The Awes and the Essempis are officially aligned, and they do not care for his majesty."

"That should buy us some time, at least," Niki sighed. "I just wished we knew what we were up against." 

"For that, we can only wait for the results of the others' investigation," Karl sighed, not looking at any of them.

Ant understood his unease.  None of them liked drifting in this nebulous space where there were no answers.  Part of him wondered if this could possibly relate to the group that Techno and Duchess Wastaken were investigating – the wrongdoers that had attempted to turn Sam and Eret against each other.  Would they do the same to George and the new Awes?  He knew Lindsay was looking into it as well, there was just-

They were supposed to be at peace.  Things were supposed to be fine, and Bad wasn't crown prince anymore, and they were supposed to be able to get him back now, and things were somehow still bad.

It wasn't fair, but Skeppy was alive and Bad was alive and they weren't done fighting yet, so Ant held onto that.

They would figure things out eventually.

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry."

Karl wasn't surprised that those were first words offered to him as soon as he and Sapnap were allowed their first moment of privacy since they'd been primping for the victory banquet, the atmosphere entirely shifted.  Where once there had been giddy elation, pleasure at Sapnap's overwhelming success, there was now only a bone-deep weariness.  Karl had been keeping up with things as best he could, and it helped that he had practiced maintaining a neutral disposition back when Callahan had first stayed with him, the Stardeer encouraging it on a whim.  In hindsight, it was likely that Callahan wanted Karl to prepare for the day the bunny hybrid would be in the public spotlight, but that should have been because of Karl's writing, not because- because of this-

"It just-" Sapnap continued when Karl didn't immediately answer him, the peacekeeper lost in thought. "I know this is a huge decision and I made it without you.  I know that's not fair and you have every right to be mad.  And it's not an excuse, but I thought- it felt like the best time to help Bad, and I didn't want this chance to slip away." 

"I'm not mad at you for wanting to help your brother," Karl said, because they had built this relationship on the grounds of clear communication and he was going to hold to that. "I understand that it was a heat of the moment thing and that no one had given you any kind of counseling.  I know that you were put on the spot."

"You're still allowed to be upset," Sapnap said, and while Karl was not looking at him, he just knew that the blaze hybrid's expression would be furrowed in a look of conflicted sorrow. "Do you need alone time?"

Yes.  No.  Karl didn't know.  So much had happened in a short period of time.  He felt restless, he felt- he wasn't happy, he knew that, but who would be when the person they loved had just pledged to kill a giant dragon somewhere down the line?  That was a very stress-inducing thing.  It was so stressful that Ant had been fully lost to them for a solid five minutes as he clung to Sapnap with wide, terrified eyes, and if Karl had been feeling bad before then, he'd felt exponentially worse when the severity of the situation settled hard on his shoulders.  Emperor Philza had made a royal decree.  Sapnap was crown prince now.  Karl was courting the crown prince.

His legs felt weak, and Karl stumbled, trying to aim himself towards the couch.  A warm hand steadied him on the way down, and Sapnap settled in beside him, concern clear on his features. 

"Do you want me to wait with you?" Sapnap asked, his voice softer now. 

"I..." Karl began, reaching for him, and Sapnap didn't hesitate, letting Karl cling to his hand like a lifeline without pushing for more. "It's a lot." 

"I'm sorry," Sapnap repeated, as though it were in any way his fault. "Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

Karl found himself releasing a bitter laugh on reflex, something that made Sapnap go still, and all at once he felt a pointed heat burn in his eyes. "I..." Karl didn't even know where to begin.  He wanted to comfort Sapnap but he was mad at Sapnap but he wasn't mad at Sapnap, but the situation Sapnap had been placed in, the situation where he had to step up to become something he didn't even want just to protect his brother from some unknowable force he shouldn't even be targeted by.  He was frustrated, because what else could be?  And it wasn't fair to aim it at Sapnap, but the truth was that there wasn't anything the blaze hybrid could do right now.

Karl felt the first tears leak from his eyes and scrunched them shut, ducking his head as though it would hide them.  He couldn't understand the response, it wasn't like he wanted to mask things from Sapnap.  He trusted the protector, who was doing everything right when it came to handling a conflict.  He was trying so hard. 

"Just start with one thing," Sapnap whispered, emotion thick in his tone. "Find the loudest thought and start there."

Karl felt his brows furrow, his head cocked in confusion, and Sapnap released a small laugh.

"Just um- something Josh told me once," Sapnap murmured. "I've found that it helps." 

It did help, was the thing.  Karl just needed to pick one thing.  One piece, and they could unravel the rest together from there.   

"I don't-" Karl began, entirely fueled by impulse. "I don't want to date the emperor." 

Oh, that was- yes, that appeared to be a major cause for concern for him.

"I don't want to date the emperor," Karl repeated. "Or be a- a Lord Consort.  A ruler of the people.  I don't think I'm supposed to do that." 

He was- sure, the royal family liked him- they were his fluffle, but he wasn't that great.  He shouldn't be making decisions that important.  No one should look to him as a figure of ultimate authority – he was just a bunny hybrid for cripe's sake, not even a noble – just an artist from a rural Las Nevadas territory. 

"Oh," Sapnap said, sounding faint. 

"You'd- I think you'd be a good emperor," Karl said, because he knew that much was true, knew it down to his very bones. "I know you might doubt that, but honestly Sapnap, I think you could be amazing, I just- I don't- I don't know if I could be a part of that."

He wasn't that special.  Before this point, there had only been two notable things about him.  One, that he'd somehow managed to stumble his way into a fictional book empire and two, that a Stardeer liked him for whatever Prime-forsaken reason.  Neither one of those qualified him to be one of the most powerful people on the continent.  That was madness. 

"Why- why do you think that?" Sapnap pressed, and Karl could tell by his tone that he was trying very hard to imitate Ponk's careful neutrality. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"I just- it's just a lot," Karl said. "And I don't think I have enough."

"Enough what?" 

"Enough anything!" Karl burst, and he knew that Sapnap's prompt had been a gentle thing, but it stabbed at the very delicate framework that was currently holding up Karl's entire wellbeing. "I'm just a dumb bunny peacekeeper.  I'm not a guild head or a duke, I wouldn't be of help to you!"

"You are already of great help to me," Sapnap said, and Karl could tell that he was fighting to keep his tone even. "And there's not a single thing dumb about you.  And I know- I know politics complicates things, I know that, but Karl- you've already done so much.  You're already of great renown, and you did that all on your own.  You have a book empire, massive popularity, and the backing of a Stardeer.  Just because you think of all of those things as average doesn't mean that they actually are." Sapnap released a wet laugh. "If anything, I'm the one holding you back here.  All I know how to do is swing a sword around good."

"Swing a sword around well," Karl corrected, feeling the corner of his mouth kick up in a grin. "And that's not true.  Besides, I just got lucky with Callahan."

"And I got lucky with Quackity and Philza, but I think that much like Callahan, they would argue that," Sapnap said. "They wanted us close, not on a whim, but because we matter, and Karl... if you're really not happy with the idea of being a lord consort one day, I won't- I won't fight you.  The only thing I really want is for you to be happy, and if this- if it compromises that, then we don't have to be together, I just want you to have a good life." 

"Sapnap..." Karl trailed off, his eyes hot again.

"I love you," Sapnap said. "I love you so much, Karl, and whatever it takes to be happy, I will fight to get you that.  That's all." 

And it was-

At once, Karl realized a fundamental truth.  Something so given, so inherent, that he hadn't questioned it for months.  But the fact was, the truth was, that no matter what he did, or where he went from here, he didn't want to do it without Sapnap Halo by his side. 

He wanted to stay, come hell or high water. 

"Sapnap," Karl repeated, his lips stretching into a smile so wide it hurt. "Marry me." 

Sapnap choked, sputtering while his cheeks flushed into a brilliant flush that made Karl's instincts coo with appreciation. "I- what?"

"Marry me," Karl repeated. "I had- excuse my momentary insanity related to low self-esteem that isn't going to rule my life and marry me.  I want it.  I'm in for all the crazy, one hundred percent." 

"Karl," Sapnap whispered, and when he shifted forward, Karl met him halfway, joining in a graceless crash that ended with a desperate, but perfect, kiss. 

It wasn't going to be all sunshine and roses.  It would likely, as George said, always be crazy.

But it was a crazy Karl wanted to face with this person.  He wouldn't have it any other way.

~:~

‘Help,’ Bad signed in an old, forgotten language that no one understood. ‘Help-help-help.’

Wilbur wasn’t with him – as was to be expected for a pregnant bearer who had already done so much that day.  He was recuperating, and even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t make sense for him to spend time with an individual he had already shown public distaste towards, not when he’d already used up so much energy catering to the masses at the tournament.  Sapnap wasn’t here, because he’d been almost immediately set upon by hoards of nobles wanting to get an in with the new, favorable crown prince- the others having to rush in to help with crowd management because this hadn’t been planned, because that was just another thing that had slipped through the cracks – Sapnap had come in fourth, he wasn’t supposed to- and Bad hadn’t been surprised that his little baby had won the redo of tournament bracket one – that had been inevitable more than anything else – and he’d tried to cling to that one positive note while fighting back the guilt and fear and hysteria that clung to him – it had been so good and then it had been so, so bad.

‘Help,’ Bad signed again, the action entirely without intent.  It felt like he had hit rock bottom.  He should be thrilled that he wasn’t crown prince anymore – he’d achieved his goal, and he knew that Sapnap wouldn’t be fighting the ender dragon anytime soon, he just-

If his contractor could find a way to attack Skeppy – as both a warning to Bad and an opportunity for Bad to fix his reputation – what would they do to Sapnap for taking the position that they wanted Bad to claim, that they were pushing for so fervently so that they could have a hand in ruling the most powerful empire on this side of the world?  Would they kill Sapnap?  Make Bad a tragic survivor?  Or would they paralyze him as well, make him unfit to fight and make Bad the more favorable option-

“Is your hand okay?” Ponk asked suddenly, jerking Bad back to the present.  His words had been soft, but it was enough to give Bad whiplash – the stark contrast between his rampaging thoughts to Ponk’s gentle probes difficult to manage.

“What?” The word felt clumsy in Bad’s mouth, as though he were trying to speak while underwater.

“Did you injure you hand?” Ponk pressed. “We can get you an ice pack if you strained it.”

The doctor looked towards the hand that Bad kept signing with, and it was a fight not to hide the offending appendage behind his back.  Overly defensive responses would only give away information he did not want to share.

“I’m okay,” Bad said, managing to sound at least somewhat like his normal self.  It was a pointless effort and they all knew it, considering the way that Bad had been drifting in and out of focus since the end of the tournament. 

There had been enough people present, and Foolish and Duke Wastaken had been so far away that they hadn’t sensed anything was amiss the way Foolish had at the engagement party.  They didn’t know that Bad had been alone, that he’d been visited, and attributed his shock to the sudden upset in position, as though it had not been what he was so urgently working towards for so long.  He hadn’t known- had attributed McChill’s potion usage to the greed of the Essempis (the Essempis that poor George had to manage, had to lead, and Bad knew that it was pointless to think ill of the dead but it would be a lie to say he wasn’t at least partially furious with Eret for failing to clean up his own messes, for sacrificing George to them when the panther hybrid had already gone through so much) – hadn’t thought that his contractor had that much power in this world, but it was clear that he was wrong.  He’d gotten proud, thinking he was clever, thinking that there was an easy solution to this that wasn’t just giving into exactly what his contractor wanted.  He wondered how many others would get hurt in his effort to stop the worst from happening, then wondered how much damage he would cause if he became the puppet his contractor desperately desired.

He hadn’t known.  He hadn’t known the box he had been opening when he’d first made this deal.  He never should have taken the job in the palace, but he wanted- he wanted a better life for Sapnap.  One of them should get to thrive.

And he would- he’d be fine.  Bad knew that Sapnap would be fine.  He had so many friends, so many allies, so many pups and packmates that loved him.  He would be great.

Now it was just Bad that needed to slip away.

He couldn’t think about fighting his way back towards Skeppy’s side.  At one point, that might have been possible, but now it was just- he couldn’t be that selfish.  He couldn’t take that risk.  Skeppy had a bearer now, a bearer that adored him, and Bad knew that it was a betrayal of Skeppy’s trust not to fight for him, but Bad just didn’t have it in him anymore.  There was too much at stake for a love story that he should have made more of an effort to fight those years ago. 

Bad was the problem.  Bad had always been the problem.  He just wished that he could fix it.

“It’s okay to not be okay,” Ponk said, eyes beseeching.  He had no notes or journal to hide behind, nothing that would give the implication that his focus was not entirely on Bad.  He’d been more or less dragged into this session by Foolish the moment that Bad’s title had been stripped from him.  The shark mage that had taken on one of Bad’s guard shift rotations also joined them, but he remained outside, offering Bad some level of privacy because even he didn’t want the Nether Demon to feel uncomfortable but it didn’t matter how Bad felt because at the end of the day he deserved to feel awful.  He deserved- he just needed to- to go.

There was a warm touch against his wrist, the one that had been moving, and Bad startled, anxiety thick in his throat.  He looked down, and was met with a soft grin from Foolish, who claimed Bad’s hand in his own.

“Sweetheart,” Foolish said, a fierce intensity burning in his gaze. “It’s okay to not be okay right now.  You don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to worry about anything, but I- I feel like I’m close.” He gave Bad a wink. “Just give me a little more time.  I’m sorry you have to wait this long, you’ve been so amazingly strong and I am so proud of you; you just have to wait a bit longer.”

Bad struggled to swallow around the lump in his throat as he forced out a lie. “I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know,” Foolish said cheerfully, shifting so he could pull Bad into a hug. “And I know it’s dangerous to hope too, but just remember that I’m on the hunt now, and I’m not going to stop until I get my quarry.” He pulled back, lips stretching into a wide grin that was more of a show of teeth than anything else. “You’ve had to take care of yourself for a long time, pup.  I’ve been there, it’s hard to let people in, but this isn’t over.  We’re never going to be done with you, okay?”

“I-” Bad’s voice cracked, the stress of the day catching up to him.

“Cry,” Foolish ordered. “Allow yourself to grieve.  I’m here for you.”

And Bad just- did that.

He grieved, the edges of his control fracturing under the immense strain they'd been carrying for so long.  The heat attacked his eyes relentlessly, and he knew better than that, knew better than to waste water, he had to think of the baby, but he was just so tired.  He desperately wanted to believe Foolish.  He wanted to believe that there could be an ending, that he could have hope, but he was too aware of the damage that could be caused while being utterly oblivious to the extent of their opponent's power range.  How would they attack next?  Would it be poison? Compulsion?  Bad couldn't receive orders if he was never left alone, but when his contractor became more desperate and determined, when they ran out of alternative ploys, they would find a weak spot, a moment's slip up, and once Bad received a mission he would have to see it through whether he wanted to or not (and Prime, would he not want to, but it was either go willing or risk collateral damage if he was forcibly taken over, and he didn't want that more).

A harsh noise escaped his lips as the weight of his powerlessness crashed over him, but Foolish was right there, holding Bad close.  It should be humorous considering the size difference – Bad was so much larger and Foolish was so slight – but it was Bad who felt unbearably small for being so proud to think that he could best one of the ancient powers of the Nether when he only understood a fraction of the ancient society. 

"It's okay, pup, it's okay, I'm right here," Foolish said. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm not going anywhere, you're not alone."

'Help,' Bad signed with his free hand with the language his uncle had taught him, had been so happy to do so, to share that part of their culture.  He missed his uncle so much. 'Help-help-help.'

"I'm here," Foolish pledged, and perhaps he couldn't stay forever – he was simply too important for the likes of someone like Bad, but it was a comforting lie to buy into, for all that it could never be true. "I'm here, I'm here, I love you." 

He shouldn't, but just like everything else, Bad would take his love and cling to it with desperate, greedy hands. 

After all, he knew no other way to be.

~:~

They decide to keep things to themselves for now.

Things are chaotic enough with Sapnap taking on the role of crown prince, they really don't need to add any more fuel to the fire.  Still, there was no hiding their renewed optimism and contentment, so Karl was sure that at least some of Sapnap's pack was aware of the development.  This suspicion was further tested on a day when Ant cornered them with wide, somewhat manic eyes.

"I have decided to teach you noble etiquette," Ant declared with a broad grin during one of their young noble crown faction get togethers. "I am going to use my bearer vibes-"

"Rizz," Karl corrected.

"Rizzy vibes," Ant allowed. "And boost your credibility, which even the conservatives will reluctantly have to claim as sufficient since I might be a future duchess or whatever." 

Skeppy – who had joined them for this lunch (and had been making more of an effort to do so for reasons that likely related to getting more chances to stare dreamily at Ant) – jolted. "Or whatever," he said. "Connor's-"

"Almost certainly going to shove that title in your lap, yes," Ant agreed, nodding as though he had firmly expected that to be Skeppy's continued response rather than any kind of denial. "He has confetti planned, and a string quartet.  Quintet?  He seemed very excited by it, but that's not the point," he said, just casually revealing a major facet of Skeppy's future as though they were discussing the weather. "The point is, we are going to get proactive before people can start getting speculative like the dumb muffins they are."

"S'what they get for cozying up to me," Niki hummed, seeming utterly serene as she took a delicate sip of tea.  Her mood had raised tremendously once it had become apparent that she was substantially less likely to become empress in the future, and now she could be frequently seen commiserating with the emperor steward – Grand Marquess Pete – over their respective workloads. 

"Yes, we're all glad you don't have to deal with dummies propositioning you anymore," Ant agreed, nodding solemnly. "Now you and Puffy can-"

"I believe you mentioned something about being proactive?" Niki interrupted, smiling sweetly.

Ant brightened. "Oh yeah! Karl-" He turned back towards the bunny hybrid. "I'm going to give you noble etiquette lessons.  I know Wilbur's given you some pointers, but I'm going to be thorough to give you the tools you need to not be worried all while boosting your reputation!" 

"So thoughtful," Skeppy murmured, looking terribly besotted.

"I know," Ant said, puffing up with pride.  It was very cute. "And don't worry, I'll train Tina and Hannah along with you, so it'll look less like a rush to catch you up and more like an exclusive etiquette class that most socialites couldn't even hope to dream of." 

It was certainly a tempting offer.  Ant had been around nobles long enough that his etiquette was all but flawless.  He hadn't implemented it before seemingly by choice, which allowed his transition as a public bearer to be all the more inspiring to the nobles that now had an eye on him.  As far as they knew, he'd mastered perfect etiquette seemingly overnight, and it seemed to bring no small amount of frustration towards those that looked on him with jealousy.

Across the table, Hannah – a recent addition to their group – went flushed. "Why am I getting included?" 

"Because you need to have the swag of a viscount," Ant said, undeterred.

"But what about me?" Tina whined. "I'm not a noble."

"Yet," Ant said with a wag of his brows before refusing to elaborate.  Karl had a strong suspicion that this related to the darkened blush that spilled across Hannah's cheeks, but if that was the case, Ant refused to elaborate on it. 

Karl had, admittedly, feared coming off as impertinent to learn etiquette from a bearer of such high standing.  Even if Ant was commoner-born, there was no question that he held immense social sway.  Tina might be in the same boat as Karl, but she was also acting head of the architecture guild.  If Foolish decided to make the transition permanent, she would no doubt receive a title much like Foolish had, perhaps even become a Ga'Meres herself, but Karl was just a writer.  He had the approval of the royal pack and a Stardeer, and he might be courting the crown prince, but he wasn't a noble.

And then he was.

"You deserve a title," Philza said, cornering Karl one day when he swooped in from out of nowhere. "There is a Jacobs pack, you know. Would you like to join them?"

"I haven't even met them," Karl wheezed, which had felt like a very reasonable response, considering the circumstances, and he had all but forgotten the exchange as but one of the manic eccentricities that came from someone whose overprotective instincts wouldn't leave him alone, and then he'd been invited to lunch.

A special lunch where he learned that the matter hadn't been a passing fancy or an odd whim, but a very intentional and well thought out plan.

At first, Karl could scarcely believe his eyes when he entered the sunroom, but that was-

"Corpse!" Karl cheered, bounding forward. " Sykkuno!" 

"Karl!" Sykkuno crooned back, running to meet Karl halfway.  They slammed in a graceless rush that almost sent them sprawling, but the ever-reliable Corpse was there to keep them upright, the dark eared bunny hybrid releasing a few low chuckles. 

"It's good to see you, Karl," Corpse offered, bumping their foreheads together.

"I don't understand," Karl said, his gaze shifting between the two of them and Philza, who had invited him to this meeting, who also apparently had Callahan by his side, who hadn't been there earlier.

"It's the Jacobs' pack," the emperor declared, smiling wide. "Callahan thought that you might like to make it official." 

And it was just- just everything he had wanted but had never been able to ask for.  Karl loved his neighbors, they were the best, but he hadn't wanted to infringe on their time.  He'd had his own fluffle, and sure it was small and he'd never gotten to know his parents, but it had been his.  He'd been given his lot in life, same as anyone else, and wishing for more – while natural – wasn't something he could ever really push to happen.  It would make things uncomfortable.

And yet, here Corpse and Sykkuno were, looking thrilled. 

"We don't need a noble title," Sykkuno whispered, leaves growing in his hair like a delicate circlet. "But I think it would be great to be your brothers." 

"Oh," Karl said, losing a moment as he forgot how to breathe. 

"We didn't want to push," Corpse added in his deep, rasping voice. "We were happy with the way things were, but Callahan said that you might want more too."

"So here we are," Sykkuno chirped. "Putting ourselves out there." 

Karl swallowed hard, and while the act failed to clear all the thick feel of emotion there, it did allow him to breathe a bit more steadily. 

"You dummies," Karl said, his eyes feeling hot. "I'd love to be fluffle." 

"Then we'll all be Jacobs now," Sykkuno hummed, looking unfairly pleased. "I can open a cafe just about anywhere, you know?" 

"Cafe Jacobs has a nice ring to it," Corpse added, eyes crinkling around the edges, giving a clear indication that he was grinning behind his mask. "We'll make sure it has a large reading nook."

"Full of your books!" Sykkuno added. "And a place where you can host chapter readings!  It'll be fun!" 

'I'll make the art,' Callahan added with a look of immense seriousness, because this wasn't a joke to him, it wasn't a joke to any of them, it was-

This was it, Karl realized. The last strings that had been holding him back to the village in which he had been raised.  If Corpse and Sykkuno moved here, if Callahan was here, if their cafe with their sweet treats were here-

This would be, without question, home. 

"Let's do it," Karl sniffed, blinking away happy tears. "Let's be pack.  Let's live here."

'In my house,' Callahan cut in. 'You could have no better.' 

Sykkuno blinked at him. "Wouldn't that be a potential conflict of interest or whatever-"

'In my house,' Callahan repeated more firmly. 'Our house.  I made it for us.' 

Oh.  Oh, that sweetheart.  

Callahan really did think of everything.

"Karl," Philza spoke up, clearing his throat to gain the bunny hybrid's attention. "As head of the Jacobs' clan, I will grant you the title of count." 

Karl startled. "Isn't that too high?"  It skipped him right past a barony or a viscounty, which was useful for when it came to publicly courting Sapnap, but wouldn't it cause some ripples of discontent? 

"It comes with bearer approval," Philza informed him cheerfully. "Much like Foolish, your substantial contributions to the empire's art scene warrant appropriate compensation.  You have changed the empire for the better and deserve a title that will reflect that."

Beside him, Callahan simply nodded, indicating that they had already come to agreement on this before the conversation had even started. 

'Ant will not mind more students for etiquette training,' Callahan offered. 'You will be safe.'

And supported, and loved.  

Karl could- he really could have everything.

"This feels like a dream," Karl admitted, wiping at his eyes. 

"I know, it's nuts!" Sykkuno agreed. "But we're here to stay!"

"If you want it," Corpse added in a soft but supportive rumble.

"I want it," Karl murmured. "I want you here."

"It's music to my ears," Sykkuno sniffed before throwing himself into another hug, and that time they really did end up on the floor, but that was okay. 

In that moment, there was really no other place Karl wanted to be.

Chapter Text

They might have messed up the timing on the baby shower a bit.

Winter was a difficult time in the Antarctic Empire.  In a place where even the summers tended to have a slightly cool edge, the winters were another challenge entirely, slowing down travel, prompting the increased usage of heat sources and redstone work to maintain a steady level of comfort in their buildings, and requiring the artful dance that was dressing in layers as a noble – meaning they still had to look regal, still had to be elegant without being cumbersome – and really just- care about a lot of details Sapnap had gladly overlooked back when he was just a knight and could defer to his winter uniform and let that be that.

As crown prince, though, it was a substantially more complicated process made even more difficult by Sapnap's exaggerated response to the cold. 

Karl and Callahan seemed to think it was hilarious.  Sapnap was not so similarly amused.

He and Bad had grown up in the Nether.  The Nether.  They were used to heat.  The level of heat that pervaded down to your very bones.  The level of heat that dried out the eyes of those not biologically evolved to weather such storms.  The kind of heat you felt down in your core, that allowed them to lounge beside lava pools comfortably, the kind of heat that was fierce but comforting.  The kind of heat that sung under his skin, blazing in his fiery core.

Sapnap and Bad thrived in the summer, because that was the closest the empire would ever be to the home they had grown up in.  They did okay at the end of spring and started slowing down in the fall.

But the winter?

"This is awful," Tubbo complained, wrapped up in his many princely layers and huddled under what seemed to be one of Connor's capes, the thing thrown over his head to make him look like a mysterious – if well dressed – specter. "Is winter over yet?"

"We’re at the tail end, buddy," Sapnap sighed, giving into the pitiful doe eyes Jack's baby aimed up at him and settling himself on the ground, letting Tubbo clamber into his lap.  "Give it another week and it’ll lighten up." 

They really had managed to survive the winter that seemed to drag on forever.  Sapnap had ridden out the end of it as crown prince while being privately engaged – neither were thing he could have ever anticipated, which was perhaps what he should come to expect while being a member of the Craft family.  Spring was imminent, but that did not make the dregs of winter anymore friendly to Tubbo’s young, Nether bones.  Sapnap didn’t blame him for lamenting the cold, not when it was the pup’s first time living through it with his spark properly lit.

"Aw, it's not that bad, Tubs," Tommy declared, clambering onto the other half of Sapnap's lap out of solidarity more than anything else.  As someone born and bred in the empire, Tommy seemed mostly accustomed to the winters, though that may or may not have to do with the gentle heat that seemed to thrum through his wings. "We'll get you back to the hot room as soon as the baby party's over."

"I don't know what he's complaining about," Finley declared loudly, hands propped on her hips and seeming totally unbothered by the state of the world.  Her clothes weren't much different than her usual fall wear – apparently well-supported totems could not only withstand extreme temperatures, but not really register them, the energy of the universe helping regulate their inner temperatures until they could proceed with business as usual.

While Foolish could technically do the same, he still felt the bitter sting of cold and the blistering buzz of heat.  He could survive it, but he hadn't built up the stable foundation of support that strengthened his totem traits the way Finley and FJ had.

"Yeah!" Fundy declared, never one to be one-upped by the new princess – their minor rivalry only growing over the months since the twins had arrived. "It's not that cold."

It was cute to see him stubbornly insist this while he wrapped Ranboo up in a blanket cocoon using Skeppy's cloak, his younger brother taking the attention with a happy purr, making no effort to point out the fact that endermen hybrids were actually well-suited for the cold.  

And the heat, come to think of it.  He was pretty sure he’d never seen Ranboo all that bothered by extreme temperatures.

"You're just saying that because your winter coat keeps you toasty," Tommy declared, trying to adopt a look of haughtiness that didn't quite mask his envy at the white sheen Fundy's ears and tail had adopted, his fur coming in with substantially more coverage once fall began to melt away. "Tub-so and Sapnap just have different needs than us."

"Needs that we can address soon," Sapnap said, diplomatically cutting back into the conversation. "We just have to get through the shower."

By Antarctican tradition, most baby showers were held in the back gardens.  Granted, the pregnancies they celebrated tended to be a bit better planned, but there were other noted instances where they'd been forced to organize baby showers in the height of winter.  In these such cases, the rear ballroom – one of the smaller, more intimate spaces that seemed to act like an overly large solarium – was utilized, allowing the participants to enjoy the view of the snow-laden outdoors from the safety and warmth of the castle.

For Tubbo though, who'd mostly been avoiding the outdoors since the moment the first snow had begun to fall, being this close to the outside of the castle wasn't helping at all with his efforts to maintain his internal heat balance.

Were it only a bridal shower, and not a baby shower they were throwing.  Bridal showers were explicitly for adults, but baby showers were one of the few times where young nobles could interact outside of private family gatherings before they formally debuted into high society.  It was an important benchmark for the young pups – all save Tommy would be making their first forays into navigating the world of noble children.  While Wilbur and Puffy had given them extensive training on what to expect, nothing could really prepare them for the real thing.

Sapnap had a good feeling that it was perhaps Tubbo's nerves that exacerbated his susceptibility to the cold.  While he may be the son of two bearers, he was still related to one of the most hated protectors in the empire.  Their pack would protect him, but if some young tongues decided to be bold... 

There were some hurts they wouldn't be able to protect him against.  It was a harsh inevitability, and as much as Sapnap hated that, all he could do was cuddle Tubbo close and share what heat he had, hoping that even the smallest action might make things more bearable.

"I hope FJ gets here soon," Finley grumbled, removing her ever-present sketchbook from the glossy leather hip pouch Techno had commissioned for her months ago, all of her parents wanting the small pup to have access to her chosen craft whenever possible.  Her gaze shifted to Sapnap even as she expertly flipped through the pages, looking for a fresh canvas. "Do you think he'll be late?"

"No," Sapnap said, letting his heat increase somewhat and savoring the way Tubbo greedily leaned into him. "George is too punctual for that."

"Do you think we'll get more special sleepovers with George and Dream after the new pups arrive?" Tommy asked, contemplative. 

"It's unlikely," Josh said from where he was huddled beside Ranboo's little blanket cocoon.  Unlike Sapnap, he seemed to fair the cold weather with substantially more grace, though he had been born and raised in the empire.  It made sense. "This is a special period of bonding for all you guys.  They'll likely want to have group nest periods fairly often – though you'll probably get to sleep together in your pup nest too – get some private time if you want it."

"Puffy says babies are noisy," Finley declared, her nose wrinkled in distaste. "So I think I do want it, even if Fundy's there."

"Hey!" Fundy puffed up in affront. "I don't complain about how you always have to rearrange everything, what are you picking at me for?"

"I'm just making things more artful," Finley sniffed. "Besides, you did complain the first time-"

"Because you didn't ask-"

"No fighting," Ranboo interrupted, his voice soft but still managing to prompt the same dramatic effect as always, causing the other two to fall into silence. "We already talked that out.  Finley made a mistake and she apologized." He addressed this to his brother before turning his attention on Finley. "And Fundy apologized for raising his voice.  We agreed to put that behind us, but we can't move on if you guys keep bringing it up." 

"S'not healthy," Tubbo grumbled, which just went to show that Ant and Ponk's lessons in inner-pack conflict resolutions really had paid off.

Great.  At least some of them were going to be healthy communicators.  At least the pack had that much going for them.

"I'm sorry," Fundy said, his ears drooping to pin flat against his head, supporting his genuine sense of guilt.

"I'm sorry too," Finley said, letting her sketchbook fall to her side. "I think... I think I'm nervous about the new babies."

"Me too," Fundy admitted, Sapnap surprised to find the rest of the pups offering a chorus of similar sentiments.

"S'different, isn't it?" Tubbo asked, the conversation seeming to distract from the cold somewhat. "When you and FJ showed up, it was like- like-"

"Like we got new friends," Tommy finished for him. "Cuz you can walk and talk and play and stuff, but they're not going to be able to do anything, and they'll need most of mum's and Wilby's attention."

"Maybe you're just worried because it will be different," Josh said, earning their attention with a slow blink. "Different from anything you've known before, and that- that can be scary even for adults.  When we have to address entirely new things, stuff unlike anything we've ever faced, it can be intimidating – but a lot of times you'll find that when you're actually in the thick of it, things aren't as bad as you thought they would be.  It's just- bracing ourselves, I think, for the unknown, that can make us expend a lot of energy worrying."

"Like when Ranboo lost his tooth," Sapnap said, jumping in on the lesson. "He was worried about how much it would hurt to fall out when it started getting loose, but the actual pain compared to how much he thought it hurt was way less.  Sometimes our instincts do that to us, and there's nothing wrong with that.  There's nothing wrong with preparing or trying to brace yourself, just keep in mind that things could also go really well too.  That with the potential for bad things, there is also the potential for good things."

"It's like Ponk says!" Tommy declared, getting into things with a pleased flap of his things. "Instead of thinking of all the things that could go wrong, think of all the things that could go right." 

"Exactly," Sapnap hummed, giving the top of Tommy's head a few comforting nuzzles.  A year ago, he never would have thought the precious pup he'd been tasked with guarding would one day be his brother.  That the bond he felt could not only be encouraged but properly formalized. "So yes, there's a good chance that our moms will need to spend more time with the babies because they'll be in a delicate period of their development, but that doesn't mean there will be a void in your life.  You'll just get to spend more time with me and Karl, with Ant and Skeppy and Josh.  Even with Niki and Puffy." He hugged his younger brothers close, released a deep, steady rumble. "You're not going to be forgotten, dear ones, we would never allow it." 

"Brother sleepovers are pretty great," Finley mused, her brows furrowed in thought. "Skeppy always lets us have extra desserts."

"I think that's a pretty fair tradeoff," Josh said, smiling wide. "In fact, I think maybe we can have some extra desserts once we get through the shower, since you probably won't be able to eat much.  Does everyone remember their buddy rotations?"

"I start off with FJ and then I move onto Tommy," Finley declared, Fundy following right after her with- "I'm with Ranboo, and then I get FJ."

"And I start with Tommy and get to hang out with Boo," Tubbo said. 

"Don't separate," Sapnap advised. "Even when you trade out buddies, do it all together."

"Yes, yes, we remember," Tommy groaned. "Puffy already put us through all this."

"Well, excuse me for making sure it all stuck," Sapnap huffed, giving the small avian the lightest of headbutts. "The buddy system will not only give you extra emotional security, but a fellow witness should anything go wrong, not that you'll ever be far from your guards-"

Further conversation was abruptly interrupted by the door to their waiting room being thrown open, and in strolled a frazzled Wilbur, one hand braced against the generous swell of his stomach.

"There's been a change of plans," Wilbur declared, Technoblade half a step behind him, clearly struck with the desire to fuss over his husband but managing to hold it back on what was likely Wilbur's preference. "The baby shower's been canceled." 

Before Sapnap could interject – likely with something along the lines of 'just because you don't want it to happen doesn't mean it's not going to happen' – Wilbur carried on with-

"Quackity just went into labor," the tall bearer declared. "Guess we cut the date too close after all, anyway, Bad and his chaperone, Ant, Skeppy, Marquess Manifold, and Pete are going to manage the crowd – it has now become a run of the mill noble networking party and their pups are being sent home because we can do that when it's not a baby shower, so-" Wilbur clapped his hands together. "Nobody panic, everything is totally fine.  We are all totally fine."

"Does this mean we can put on our normal comfy clothes?" Fundy asked, perking up.

"And go back to the hot room?" Tubbo added. "I wanna go back to the nest."

"Yes and yes," Wilbur declared, the edge of his own anxiety eased by the fond smile that overtook his features. "I think it's safe to declare that you lot get a holiday from your lessons today.  Does anyone else have any questions?" 

"Do we still get double dessert?" Finley asked, her hand held up in obedient observation to classroom question etiquette. "Because I think holidays deserve double dessert."

"Have triple, you rascals," Wilbur laughed. "Alright – come on, let's get moving.  Back to the warm, comfortable, safe part of the castle everyone."

It was a cheerful group that followed Wilbur deeper into the castle, towards their private wing, though his final words were enough to indicate why the pups had been barred from the party after all.  As a bearer, Quackity needed his pups in a space that was guaranteed as safe and nearby – otherwise he'd be stressed, even more so than he likely already was.  To mitigate that, they were pulling everyone in, and Sapnap didn't doubt that soon, Bad would be joining them, that the now-networking party wouldn't last long, regardless of what the nosy nobles might have wanted.  

Sapnap should, technically, be down there putting in a showing for the royal family.  He had been waiting to make a grand entrance as crown prince, but with Quackity in labor – the bearer who had first claimed him – he doubted he would be going anywhere anytime soon.

If the nobles could, they'd stay until the new pup was born, but Philza wouldn't have it.  They'd get the most cursory check ins, the briefest of pleasantries, and then they would be shown away.  Even if the ballroom wasn't close to the royal wing, it was still too close to have that many foreign hybrids near a bearer's nesting grounds.

No one would argue the brief meeting though.  Not anyone of decent character, at least.  This was far bigger than themselves.

Wow, Quackity was in labor.

It was a relief to get back to the safety of their wing, a relief to know that Quackity and Phil, were tucked away on the far side of the bearer's suite in the birthing nest Quackity and Wilbur had prepared for their future pups.  The pups were happy to trade out their party clothes for something more comfortable, to partake in the party food they would have had to ignore at the actual party – along with cups of warming soup and hot chocolate.  It was, after all, a very special day.

"Prime, this is stressful," Wilbur muttered, pacing a steady path up and down the length of the room, alternating between the two doors – one that led towards the suite's entrance, and the other that led towards the birthing room.  Despite his bearer type shift, there still seemed to be deep protective instincts in Wilbur, but Techno had already mentioned that it wasn't uncommon for piglin hybrids to run patrols when they were stressed.  Techno dutifully followed his husband, and they both seemed sure to emanate nothing but positive smiles whenever they were near the pups, who demolished their meals and promised second and third desserts and were happily moving onto game time.  When the sugar wore out, hopefully they would move onto naps next, though Sapnap doubted their excitement would dwindle enough to allow such a thing, or at least, allow it anytime soon.

"It is," Techno agreed, close enough to offer support but not daring to make contact without Wilbur's permission, something that was especially vital in Wilbur's anxious state. "Is there anything I can do to make it easier?" 

"Maybe some ginger tea would be nice," Wilbur said, wincing as he cradled his stomach, something he'd been doing more and more frequently throughout the course of their lunch. "Prime, I'm so sick of this sporadic nausea.  I thought we'd escaped that morning sickness nonsense, but now I'm cramping like I've eaten something bad."

Techno paused, and luckily they were far away enough to escape the notice of the pups who were in the midst of a rather heated checkers tournament, from the look of things, FJ having been dropped off by Connor earlier to allow for even numbers.

They were far from the pups but Sapnap and Josh – who'd selected strategic positions near the middle of the room – shared a look before they continued to shamelessly eavesdrop.  

Look, they were feeling anxious too.  They would take whatever mental diversions they could manage.

"Is that what's been happening?" Techno asked, voice not quite low enough to keep it from their ears. "You've been getting cramps?"

"Yes," Wilbur hissed, sounding embarrassed. "Say it louder, why don't you?"

"Wilbur," Techno said with a quiet sort of urgency, not seeming to register the other piglin's ire. "Have they been getting closer together?"

"Now that you mention it, they have," Wilbur admitted, sounding surprised. "I was just thinking that.  Yet another irritation from my sudden onset of food poisoning-"

"Wilbur," Techno interrupted, sounding faint. "I think those are contractions."

There was a distinct pause where they all had to deal with the fallout of that declaration.

"What?" Wilbur wheezed, words almost coming in a squeak. "Like sympathy contractions?  They have- Ponk said I could have false ones.  Are these false ones?"

"I don't know, but we're not going to be able to tell unless we see a doctor," Techno said, keeping his voice low.  At that point, Sapnap gave up all pretense of not paying attention and turned around in time to catch Techno marching over to the sideboard, the large piglin hybrid removing one of the blank crow-notes they always had on hand and hurriedly writing something down on it.  "I'm going to summon Bad from the party and we're going to get you checked out.  It might just be stress, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Right, right- you're very right," Wilbur said, flushed but nodding, and it didn't take long for Techno to activate the security rune that allowed him to open the window, didn't take long for one of Phil's birds, that had likely been guarding them from the outside, to flutter over, accepting the message and task with the sincerity it was due. 

And just like that, they were gone, and Sapnap and Josh were alone with the pups who they'd thankfully been able to distract with a fire magic show.

(Look, they'd been thinking on their feet, and nothing was more distracting to young children of chaos than a fantastical light show that could potentially harm them – not that it ever would, Josh and Sapnap were too skilled for that.)

They were in the process of cheering Tubbo's efforts to manifest a small flame in his palms when a harried Ant walked in, seeming dazed and a little bit bamboozled.

"So, um-" Ant began, tensing under the sudden weight of their attention. "Wilbur also went into labor."

"What?" Sapnap was on his feet before he could even think about it. "How?  It's a month early!" 

"Yeah, you know that and I know that but the baby disagrees," Ant said, sighing. "Techno's in with him now, and =since there's going to be two babies very soon, they all agreed that you guys get two days off."

"Oh wow!" Tommy said, hopping to his feet with a few happy flaps of his wings.  "This is awesome!  I always thought I was going to be alone in the world forever but now we're going to get two more siblings at the same time!"

"I think I like that better," Fundy declared.

"Yes, it's very efficient of them," Finley added, nodding beside her brother. "Thoughtful to both come at once."

"That's the spirit," Sapnap said, because there was no point in revealing the added risks of premature births.  That babies needed that full time to completely develop.  That things could have been wrong, that they'd been concerned with Wilbur's pregnancy as it was, that it was mostly unheard of for bearers not to go full term with their pregnancies (something Sapnap knew from Bad's frantic research, his brother determined to be as knowledgeable on the subject as possible so he could assist Ponk the best way he knew how) – there were a lot of negatives, but they couldn't focus on that now.  There was no point in dwelling on what was beyond their capacity of control.  What mattered now was keeping his younger siblings stable and supported, and that, at the very least, Sapnap could do.

Josh cleared his throat. "Since we've taken a pause from playing anyway, why don't we go over the new baby schedule once more, since we're going to be following it soon."

There were cheers of agreement while the pups gathered around, and Sapnap ducked away to pick up the detailed pamphlet that Quackity and Wilbur had put together for these such instances.  They'd wanted the young pups to know what to expect with their pregnancies, how things would follow.  They didn't have many records of bearer births in the royal archives, so they had to play everything by ear.

It was yet another concrete demonstration of love for their children, that they would make certain to prepare them so well.  It explained that Quackity and Wilbur might be bedbound for a bit with the new babies, that the pups would be allowed a few visits and would be tucked in at night by their dads, but it would take anywhere from a week to two weeks before Wilbur and Quackity were on their feet again.  In the meantime, their older siblings would alternate sleeping in their pup nest with them (the private one in Tommy's room), and them joining the pack elders in the big bearer nest.  The older siblings – Skeppy, Sapnap, Josh, Ant, and Connor (Josh standing in for Jack as Quackity's eldest pup, though George could technically be included as Eret's and Foolish son, though his own position as the current Duke of Essempi had Wilbur excluded from the schedule), would adapt their schedules to best help with their younger siblings (or pups, in Ant’s case) – taking turns for breakfast, lunch, and tea time – for taking them out on special excursions, helping them out with bedtime – whatever their parents needed during this adjustment period.

Eventually, the new pups would be incorporated into the schedule, and then they would just- have their new normal.

Karl showed up by the time they'd finished with the pamphlet, the young pups breaking apart to brainstorm their first greetings to their new siblings while reminding each other that they couldn't overwhelm Quackity or Wilbur.  Sapnap was relieved to see his partner and eagerly crossed to him, Karl meeting him halfway in a tight hug that Sapnap sighed into.

"I'm worried," he whispered, something he hadn't even dared mention to Josh. "About Wilbur."

"What do you need?" Karl asked, and Sapnap could have cried, he was so grateful for the effortlessly offered support.

"Cuddles," Sapnap decided. "Just cuddles." 

"Then let's do that," Karl said, happily settling in Sapnap's lap and letting the blaze hybrid hold onto him as tightly as he needed to.

Dinnertime rolled around and there was still no news from the birthing rooms.  They had a picnic on the floor by the fireplace to distract from it, and thankfully someone in the kitchen had thought to supply a variety of the younger pups' favorite foods – which made for a bit of an eclectic collection but they seemed thrilled to have such consideration.  Sapnap himself didn't care – he'd just as happily munch on a plate of pasta as he would a roast beef sandwich.  It was mostly his innate protector instincts that had him eating at all, his stomach was wrought with such tension, but if he didn't keep his strength up, he wouldn't be able to protect, and that was a vulnerability he couldn't allow.

They ended up putting the pups to bed together – Skeppy and Ant showing up to help with the routine.  By unspoken agreement, the five of them returned to the sitting room to wait things out, Josh falling asleep against Skeppy’s shoulder and Ant boxing him in on his other side, clinging like a limpet.  Karl himself was already unconscious, fitting easily against Sapnap's side, and the blaze hybrid was wavering on the edge of coherency, close to giving over to it completely, when Foolish barged into the room with a joyous cheer.

"We have a Charlie!" Foolish declared, startling the hell out of Ant, Josh, and Karl. "Gentlemen and other gentlemen, the royal pack has now been granted the wonderful addition of Prince Charles Craft-Quackity, the cutest little duck hybrid the world has ever seen!" 

"The baby's here?" Josh said sleepily, digging his knuckles into his eyes to clear away the sleep as he properly sat upright. "He's- they're okay?"

"Charlie and Quackity are perfectly safe and sound," Foolish declared, hands propped on his hips and emanating steady waves of unyielding pride, the likes of which Sapnap tended to only see from him after a particularly challenging build. "And um- we only had one delivery nest available so Wilbur is in there too, but Bad and Ponk both said that his delivery was coming along textbook perfect, so he and his baby should be okay too."

"Oh Prime," Sapnap breathed, a rush of heat gathering in his eyes.  The stress that he'd been valiantly denying slammed into him with a ruthless efficiency, and it was a fight not to cry. "I'm so glad." 

"They're okay," Karl murmured, happy tears seeming to glean in his eyes as he shifted up onto his knees, moving so that he could curl himself around Sapnap's head, holding the prince close to his shoulder. "They're okay, they're okay, everyone's okay."

"Oh Prime," Skeppy whispered, hopping up onto his feet and dragging Ant with him. "He did it!  Bad did it!  Bad's delivering for a bearer!" 

"We're not out of the woods yet, but we should be soon," Foolish continued. "You guys can come wait by the delivery room.  As soon as Wilbur's baby comes, you'll be welcomed in, but um- for now, I've- oh wow, I've got to get back-"

"Get out of here!" Sapnap laughed, tears in his eyes, and this was, this was it- it was happening.

The babies had come.

They waited around the delivery room for about fifteen more minutes, and then just like that, they were being called in.  Bad had vacated the premises before their arrival, and while part of Sapnap mourned that, had wanted to congratulate his brother, he focused instead on the achievements they’d made – the wonderful gifts that had been granted them.

Sapnap strode deeper into the room to find a triumphant and somewhat loopy Wilbur punch a triumphant fist in the air as he hugged a small bundle close to his chest. "Fuck yeah, I'm a delivery champion," he drawled, grin victorious, something that only widened when he caught sight of the older pups. "Sapnap!" he cheered, pointing at the blaze hybrid. "Did you know sympathetic labors are a thing for bearers?  Just- if we're both close to delivery, we can just- and also, I was close to delivery all along," Wilbur declared. "Because I had um- regular doses of Eret's special magic, if you know what I mean, I just-" Wilbur laughed, falling back against his pillows. "It's so stupid, it's so..." His laughter trailed off into sudden tears, the bearer looking down at his new child, but Techno was fast to slide in, wrapping a comforting arm around his husband and allowing Wilbur to cry against his shoulder.

It was a difficult situation. Sapnap couldn't imagine what it was like, delivering a baby whose father would never be there to see it.  It made the relief and joy in his chest mix with sorrow, but as a group, they decided to give the two piglin hybrids their space, turning to focus on Quackity on the other half of the nest, who looked on them with fond smiles.

"It's a very emotional day," Quackity whispered as they approached his side of the nest. "But look."

He angled the blanketed lump in his arms towards them, revealing-

Oh, he really was cute.  Brown hair and squishy pink cheeks, though he seemed to be sleeping now.

"His eyes are the same color as Foolish's," Quackity informed them. "And they match his wings."

A green-feathered duck hybrid.  Oh, he was going to be a heartstealer one day, Sapnap was sure of it, would get there from pure cuteness alone.

"We'll introduce the younger pups to him in the morning," Philza declared, he and Foolish proudly standing close to Quackity's side. 

"You can hold him then too," Quackity declared. "But not now.  Now is mommy time."

"I think you've more than earned that," Karl offered quietly, something that sponsored a few rounds of chuckles from them.

There was a soft whining from Wilbur's lump, and the piglin bearer seemed to compose himself, hastily wiping away his tears before angling his baby towards them.

"You want your own share of attention, love?" Wilbur asked, pretending the baby hadn't been responding to him. "Everyone, this is Michael.  This is- this is Eret’s son."

The cooing stopped when Michael was properly angled towards them, and though newborns weren't supposed to be able to see that far, Sapnap knew the exception to this rule had been granted by the one Essempi-blessed eye Michael had – the usual stark white from Eret.  The other was Wilbur's comforting brown, and that striking gaze was under a small mop of pink curls. 

The newborns really were going to take the world by storm, Sapnap was sure of it.

"He's awesome," Skeppy whispered, cuddling up to Karl. "They're awesome.  Good job, guys." 

"Think that's a bit of an understatement," Wilbur murmured, leaning into Techno with a hum. "But hey, now at least we only have to remember one birthday."

"Good job, boys," Quackity whispered, and then they laughed, laughed because they had gotten through the other side of something that had been hanging over their heads for months, laughed in relief because they'd had two deliveries and everyone was okay.  There were no repeats of Empress Kristin, they could move on.

Their family was larger now.  It wouldn't make up for what they'd lost, but it could still get them to a new sort of good.

And that, Sapnap found, was something he would gladly welcome.

Chapter Text

Bad knew things couldn't be good when a runner summoned him and Foolish from the ballroom where they had been managing what was now a networking party with an undercurrent of fierce excitement at the prospect of a new royal being imminently born.  With Winter giving away to the beginnings of spring, there was still a distinct chill in the air that managed to permeate the castle walls, and even with the garden's many enchantments, many plants were still slow in their reemergence for the upcoming season.  The ground seemed damp with the memory of snow and the budding flowers reluctant to make an appearance, but the castle staff had done as best they could to make this a party of royal caliber and their efforts had paid off tremendously.  While Bad was still unaccustomed to his new place in the social hierarchy as a mere prince who was once greatly scorned and who was still, currently, quite heavily avoided, he seemed to be doing a decent job of managing the crowds. He might not be the nobles' preference, but as one of the few options they had available, they made do, and Bad had dealt with it as best he could.  Most of his nerves had settled by the time the runner arrived in what seemed to be the most artful timing to allow his anxiety to blossom back to new, nerve-wracking heights. 

Karl was the one meet them – perhaps the most neutral option – waving a small sheet of paper indicative of a crow missive. "There's a problem." 

"A medical problem," Foolish deduced, immediately recognizing why Bad would have been summoned in addition to himself. 

"Not a serious one, we don't think," Karl offered, trying to ease the tension in their shoulders with a few peacekeeping purrs. "It's more of a logistics thing." 

Foolish quirked a brow at him. "And that is..."

"Right- sorry, this is kind of overwhelming even if I have been given permission to talk about it," Karl said, offering a tight, apologetic grin. "Yeah, so- Wilbur's gone into labor as well." 

Bad tensed. That shouldn't be- it was far too early.  Wilbur should have another month before he gave birth.  Even if he may have synced up with Quackity in some capacity, that shouldn't have been enough for this, especially when Wilbur's situation was so much more delicate than Quackity's. 

"Ponk thinks he's fine," Karl continued. "But he needs another set of hands in there, and as everyone is very much in their instincts – lots of heightened emotions-"

"He wants me in there," Bad concluded.

"Techno asked for you specifically, and Wilbur agreed," Karl said, wincing. "He trusts you as a fellow Nether hybrid and packmate and he doesn't want any of the other doctors.  We can downplay your involvement or hide it later or whatever, but for now, Ponk wants your help if you're willing."

"Of course," Bad said, and maybe he should press the issue – he already denied one bearer, what was another?  But this bearer was a parental figure, this bearer had asked for him, and his instincts as both a peacekeeper and medical professional urged him to step in and see this through a peaceful resolution.

It would feel good to be proactive.  He'd spent the past few weeks on pins and needles, waiting for the next threat from his contractor while Foolish and Matt did research.  This baby shower was supposed to be a distraction from all that, and now it still was, just in a different way.

Still, Bad had become a doctor to help people, and right now, Wilbur needed help.

Bad would not shirk away from this.

"Then let's get going," Karl said, balancing on the balls of his feet in an excited bounce. "We don't really have a lot of time to waste."

It was a jarring shift for Bad.  He hadn't been attending to his medical duties much as of late.  He was still technically assigned the position of royal doctor, but as he was publicly supposed to be distanced from the royal bearers (and their pups by extension), and he also had to be constantly chaperoned, it made little sense for him to attend to any of his normal medical duties.  He kept up with his potions and salves, of course – studied and continued to make medication, oversaw the material management and ordering for the royal medical suite, but as for properly interacting with his pack, it had been... was it since George had fallen into his coma?  He'd done some checkups after that, attended to skinned knees and sore throats, but there had been nothing substantial in months.  Had it really been that long since Jack had-

So much time.  It slipped through their fingers easily, like sand.  If things had stayed to course, Bad and Skeppy might have been married by now-

But he could not dwell on it, not when Wilbur needed him.

Bad refocused. 

Foolish stayed with him the entire time, standing vigil as Bad changed into sterile, delivery clothing, as he washed his hands, covered his hair.  He grabbed his kit, knowing that it wouldn't hurt to have extras as Ponk had likely only anticipated one delivery today, and with confidence spurred entirely by necessity, Bad pushed himself forward. 

The delivery room was as tense as he expected it to be, with Phila possessively huddled around Quackity, pupils narrowed and wings poised as though ready to swoop into combat at a moment's notice.  Comparatively, Techno seemed somewhat more restrained from where he was curled around Wilbur, his rough hands gentle as he dabbed a wet cloth against Wilbur's sweaty brow.

"Bad," Wilbur breathed upon catching sight of the Nether demon, one hand braced against the swell of his stomach. "Help?" 

"I'm here, mama," Bad said, trailing into a rumbling purr of peacekeeping comfort. "You're going to be okay."

"Oh, thank Prime," Ponk breathed, his shoulders relaxing as he continued to grind one of the poultice's that would be used after the delivery.  For anyone other than a bearer, this would be too early to make such a thing as they tended to be more effective the fresher they were, but considering their patients, it seemed to be more of a matter of practicality rather than anything else.  The deliveries would be quick, but the bonding time afterwards extensive – it would be awhile before they let anyone else inside. "Sorry, your highness – truth be told, I may be in more need of your peacekeeping than your medical prowess, though that is a bonus."

"I'm happy to help," Bad said, waving him off as he approached Wilbur. "I'm going to listen for a heartbeat now, mama, if that's alright."

"Are they going to be okay?" Wilbur asked, brows pinched in concern as he nodded his consent. "It's so early."

And Wilbur had been so weakened at the time of impregnation.  Bad understood his concerns, had held them himself, but he had spent years studying the type of poison that Wilbur had been afflicted with.  It had been a more intense version of what Empress Kristin had suffered through, but it behaved similarly enough that Bad had been able to keep Wilbur alive until Philza had extracted a proper antidote.  From both his years of research and that very antidote, Bad had tailored potions and medications specifically to fill in the gaps that might threaten Wilbur's pregnancy.  He might not have been able to interact with the piglin hybrid much or make a show of treating him, but Bad had never stopped creating medication for his pack elder. 

"I'm going to get a feel for the situation," Bad said, trying to be honest as he removed his stethoscope from around his neck and equipped it properly. "I want to give you the most accurate information possible."

"But you have a theory," Techno rumbled as Bad gently pulled apart the medical gown that covered Wilbur's stomach, warming the sensor end of the stethoscope against his palm for a moment before he settled it into place.  

He didn't know what he'd find and as such, Bad had prepared himself for the worst, but-

But that was a strong and steady heartbeat there – sturdy, like a piglin hybrid.

Bad couldn't have kept the smile from his face if he tried, relief swamping over him like a palpable thing. "I suspect the medications I prescribed you may have overcompensated a bit," he admitted. "I wanted you to have the safest, healthiest pregnancy possible, and there's a chance that it sped the development process along a bit."

Techno blinked at him. "You sped it up by a month?"

"By a few weeks, based on what I'm hearing," Bad assuaged. "They're still early – and that might have been triggered by Quackity – but they sound perfectly healthy, though I am going to give you more post-pregnancy medication than Quackity." 

"At least your potions taste nice," Wilbur breathed, easing into a pleased smile. "They're okay?" 

"Right now, they're great," Bad confirmed. "And I am going to keep them that way." 

"Holy shit," Wilbur breathed. "I'm gonna have a baby.  I'm gonna have Eret's baby." 

"And you're going to do it wonderfully," Bad pledged before throwing his all into it. 

The information combined with his presence seemed to lift the mood of the delivery room tremendously.  At the very least, it got Philza more out of his instincts than in them, which relaxed Quackity, and soon they were able to trade soft, fond conversation while Ponk and Bad bustled about getting things ready.  Bad wrote out his treatment plan, made sure that they had plenty of clean water and sterile towels, prepped the medical runes that would be needed to provide additional oxygen or heat or healing should the babe need them, prepped the incubator, all while constantly checking in with Wilbur.  Everything was proceeding as expected, however, including Quackity birthing first.

And Bad had- there was a chance that- he'd been focusing his everything on Wilbur, he had to, because this ran too similarly to events from the past he'd rather stay buried forever.  He had delivered Prince Thomas, after all.  He had treated Empress Kristin.  He had- and it was awful, had been awful.  It had been a slow, painful delivery.  It had taken every last ounce of effort Empress Kristin had to see it through the end, and then she'd-

Bad had frozen up, tensed and a bit lost as terror gripped him, an all-consuming fear that it would be a repeat of-

And then it seemed to just- be over.

"You did it!" Ponk chirped what seemed to be minutes after Quackity had reached full dilation. "It looks like we have another fine prince on our hands." 

"Morphy," Quackity slurred, making grabby hands at the squirming bundle while Ponk quickly cleaned the new avian off. "Foolish-"

"I see," Foolish breathed, awed and teary eyed as the babe with wings as green as Foolish's eyes was passed into Quackity's arms. "It's our little Morpheus."

"Morph- what?" Techno asked, blinking. "Did you-"

"Just kidding," Quackity giggled, leaning into the arm that Philza wrapped around him, grinning wide as Foolish carried over their little prince. "This is Charlie.  Our little, precious Charles." He smiled wider. "So named after one of Fundy and Ranboo's favorite characters." 

"The brave Charles," Foolish giggled, seeming utterly enraptured. "Karl will be thrilled." 

"I-" Philza began, and then he was just crying, nuzzling into Quackity as he struggled to hold onto his composure. "Oh Prime, you did it.  You're okay." 

"And I'm going to make sure they stay that way," Ponk urged before he threw himself into the post-pregnancy cleanup and treatment. "Please, uh- don't mind me." 

"I have a baby, I couldn't think about you if I tried," Quackity boasted, before nuzzling into his grumbling tot. 

An hour later, and a second delivery commenced, this one just as quick as the first.

"Oh." It was only practice that kept Bad's actions smooth and unhindered as he caught the babe. "That was- that was very fast." 

There had been no issues at all.  The baby hadn't gotten tangled in the cord, the placenta had vacated easily, the new babe was small but healthy, not seeming to need the incubator at all.     

It felt like a fairytale ending. An utter redemption compared to his last royal delivery. 

"Another prince, your majesty," Bad said as he wrapped the new pup in his receiving blanket, coaxing him into Wilbur's arms as gently as possible. "Congratulations." 

The pointed ears and tiny tusks gave way that they were a piglin hybrid, but even if they hadn't, the array of tiny, pink curls would have been a fair enough clue. 

"Oh, Michael," Wilbur breathed, tears welling in his eyes as he held the baby close. "My precious boy."

"Our little fighter," Techno rumbled, his own gaze welling with an expression of pure joy. "But it's all thanks to you, Bad." 

The Nether demon shook his head. "I merely did-"

"You went above and beyond, sweetheart," Wilbur interrupted, holding an arm out to Bad. "You did so good.  I love you so much."

"Mama-" Bad breathed, and Wilbur wasn't- wasn't much older than him – maybe by ten years?  But it was enough for Bad's instincts.  Even though he knew that Wilbur's distaste had been an act that he had personally requested, part of Bad must have taken it to heart for Wilbur's assurance to hit this hard.  Still, considering the events of the day, he knew that he was allowed the large, conflicting emotions.  They had welcomed two young lives into the world – two princes that had made the royal family larger, and while they could not replace what was lost, they could provide a new start for them as a pack.

It was almost enough to make Bad hope that Foolish really could help him.  That there really could be an end in sight.  The babes had come out safe, after all. Four of the most vulnerable members of their pack had escaped his contractor’s reach. 

If that wasn't a victory, he didn't know what was.

~:~

"Babies, babies, babies," Ant whispered under his breath as he finished checking in on the royal princes safely tucked into bed.  The young prince's section of the royal suite had been abuzz with noise and celebration in anticipation of their new siblings, and it had been a battle and a half wrangling them through their usual evening activities and getting them to actually settle into bed.  Ant had been forced to pull out all the stops, singing and cooing and purring until his bearer might won out in the end, leaving him with an immense swell of satisfaction and contentment as he retreated into the adjacent room to wait for news with Skeppy.  He knew that they had been given an immense task, being trusted to look after their pack elder's pups while they were otherwise occupied, and the excitement that lingered in the air made Ant's bearer instincts all the more heightened.  

There were going to be more babies soon.  They had babies and there would be more and he wouldn't even be allowed to coo over them, that was just- that was so grossly unfair, but Ant would be fine, because he had his own babies to look after and Fundy and Tommy and Tubbo and FJ and Finley and of course Ranboo and maybe he should start matchmaking for Josh so that he could start a nice family of his own-

"Whoa, now," a fond voice said, a familiar arm looping around Ant's waist and tugging him close. "Seems like I lost you again." 

"Sorry," Ant mumbled, a flash of embarrassed heat crawling up his neck. "I'm not trying to play into stereotypes, it's just-"

"Hey, hey, no," Skeppy interrupted, his voice a gentle buffer between Ant and the rest of the world. "You do you, boo, I'm here for you no matter what, it's just- is it a terrible that I find it really cute?" 

"You should always find me cute," Ant informed him with a huff before turning to face Skeppy properly, ducking in for a kiss that was eagerly received. 

Yeah, that was the stuff. 

"Then I'm doing a great job," Skeppy hummed, one hand rubbing thoughtless patterns on Ant's lower back as though to ease away the tension there. "But seriously, are you okay?  I know this is... a lot." 

A lot for a potentially infertile bearer, but Ponk was staying optimistic.  He wanted to give Ant a year to properly wean off his decades of suppressant  before they considered any fertility treatments, but in the meantime, Ant and Skeppy were making great use of Ant's business and Ant already had two babies to call his own.  Skeppy was perfectly content, so really, the only thing that had been holding Ant back was his own interpretation of his self-worth, and that had been easy enough to fix.  His pack already showed how important he was to them every day exactly as he was.  He didn't have to define himself by some outdated conservatist's interpretation of success.  He was, without question, successful, and if all the people that actually mattered to him already thought that, then he was living a good life indeed.

"I'm more excited than anything else," Ant confessed. "Which maybe makes me feel guilty." 

But it was the normal amount of guilt that he and Skeppy carried around as they worried over Bad together, so it was more or less to be expected. 

"I know," Skeppy sighed, nuzzling his jaw. "But we're still here for him. Still dedicated and ready to help." 

"I just thought that it would be over by now," Ant complained. "He's not crown prince anymore, he should be..."

Fine, but if Bad needed to keep his distance to play it safe, then Ant wasn't going to jeopardize that.  They'd come too far to undo the trial that was avoiding someone they loved. 

"Foolish said that they were close," Skeppy murmured, and while he maintained a strong front, Ant knew that he was worried.  And of course he was, probably more than Ant, though Ant was allowed to monopolize the attention even if Skeppy had been with Bad longer, had been engaged to him. 

"I hope it's done soon," Ant whispered, sharing what they both already thought. "I hope-"

There was a knock on the door before he could stray towards fantasies of their life together after this mess was conquered, and Ant pulled away from Skeppy reluctantly, recognizing the rhythm. 

A moment later, an exhausted Niki stuck her head through the door. "Are you up for a status meeting?"

"Is it held in the next room over?" Ant asked. "I can't stray too far from the babies."

"Of course." Niki didn't even bat an eye at the request. "The others are already here."

"Then I can manage it, at least for a bit," Ant replied, sharing a look with Skeppy before they moved on to the next sitting room.  Even with the noise canceling enchantments, Ant could understand wanting to maintain a certain distance between some topics and curious pup ears, especially with this lot, who were so clever and excited about the developments revolving around their family.  While they didn't seem to understand why they weren't seeing much of Bad recently, they had been thrilled at the idea of watching Sapnap train to become a dragon slayer, and while they didn't get to see his true, vicious training sessions with Philza, Ant had supervised some of the tamer instruction periods.

They had already been exposed to far too much – Ant didn't want to add to that – so they hid what they could.

The usual crew was waiting in the sitting room despite it being the early hours of the morning, most of them still dressed in their clothes from the day before.  Tina was present, Ant guessed, as a show of moral support, though she was passed out against Josh's shoulder, who seemed entirely lost in thought.  All of them had worked overtime managing the crowds of nobles lingering in the gardens far past the point of propriety in the hopes of getting immediate news.  It had been late by the time the last of the guests were herded away despite it having originally been an afternoon party – Ant couldn't even begin to imagine how exhausted they felt.  Only Karl, Sapnap, and Josh had escaped that fate, and that was mostly due to the comfort of the pack elders.  Karl was great at charming crowds, but no one had wanted to leave Sapnap and Josh with five (and then six) worried pups on his own, so he had stepped out.  Ant had returned after that, and hadn't gotten Skeppy back until a few hours ago.  At that point, he'd thought the others had either gone home or retreated to the guest suites, but it was clear from Niki's resolute expression that she'd been working hard. 

"I just finished a status meeting with Duke Wastaken," Niki declared, cutting straight to the point. "As Philza is elsewise occupied, we have no one that can communicate with his murder, so we had to wait on the Wastaken information network to get an idea of general public opinion – on what has spread and how it was received.  Duke Essempi granted me authority to work with the Communications Council as needed, so I had been consulting with them to design the birth announcements." 

"You've been working hard," Puffy said – a rare addition to their group, though not an unwelcome one. 

Out of all of them, she had the most experience in politics.  The fact that she was still dressed in her clothes from the day before indicated that she had probably been consulting with the remainder of the Advisory Council on how to handle things going forward.

"Not hard enough," Niki said, her voice cool, though even Ant could tell it wasn't directed at Puffy. "There have been several developments overnight, the most prominent of which being the collapse of Duke Essempi."    

"What?" Sapnap's blinks were slow, his body seeming weighed with exhaustion from where he leaned into Karl's side.  The two of them had likely already met their pack's newest additions, something Ant fought not to be horrifically jealous of, even if his mother was one of the ones who had given birth to his brother- whatever, he couldn't dwell on that right now or he'd spend the rest of the meeting pouting. "What happened?" 

"That is, unfortunately, all I know." Niki looked distinctly bitter over this fact, her jaw set in an expression of distaste as though this were an indication of her inadequacies. "Duchess Wastaken is keeping the information on a need-to-know basis." The greatest odds at maintaining secrecy were to limit those that had access to the information – intellectually, Ant understood that, but it didn't make him any less irritated by the development. "The story currently being told in the most hushed of whispers was that George collapsed on his way to the party.  He is currently being kept in the royal medical wing.  As soon as the deliveries were completed, Ponk shifted over to get an idea of his condition while Bad looked after the royal bearers." 

"If we're lucky, it will just be a stress thing," Josh offered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "George has Connor in his corner, maybe he knows more?"

"Connor's currently maintaining vigil over George, so I don't think we'll hear from him anytime soon," Niki muttered, glaring at her papers. "We have people looking over the afflicted individuals, it's just the fallout that has me worried." 

"Think the Essempis will use this as grounds to dismiss George?" Puffy asked, intrigued. "First, his knight is disqualified from the Winter Tournament, he has to issue a public apology and take responsibility for the cheating, and then he can't even make it to the royal bearer's baby shower?" She shook her head. "It's not looking good.  They'll try to angle to have a steward manage things until Prince Michael is of age." 

"Unless we can find some instance of foul play for the collapse, but Duchess Wastaken is on that," Niki said, exhaling forcefully through her nose. "That isn't- there actually isn't a lot we can do about that, I just wanted us to be on the same page."

"Is there something else?" Ant asked, trying to keep the fear from his tone because if he was on edge, it would set the others off much, much more easily. 

Niki simply aimed a weary look his way, which answered the question well enough. "Word of Prince Bad's contributions to the new prince's safe arrival is already being spread." 

That time, it was Sapnap that lurched, the blaze hybrid seeming substantially more awake than he'd been before. "I thought that was kept on the downlow."

"We all thought that," Puffy sighed. "But enough nobles put two and two together with Bad's absence halfway through the party, and now we have... problems." 

"Do we, though?" Ant asked, heart pounding painfully in his chest as he tried to keep his thoughts together. "Sure, if it gets out that Bad was specifically requested to help, that would boost his reputation, but would it be enough to make him crown prince again?" 

"His original designation was sort of arbitrary anyway," Skeppy added. "Philza gave it to him because he wanted to adopt Sapnap and Bad was older, it was... I don't know." Skeppy sighed, leaning into Ant. "It never really made sense." 

"Dr. Halo had been a trusted member of the royal staff for years," Puffy offered, her voice soft. "His quality of character had already been proven over the course of Empress Kristin's pregnancy.  Philza was already familiar with both of the Halo brothers' efforts.  Once crown prince became an elected position, it wasn't... entirely odd to have Dr. Halo rise to that title, especially when he proved his capabilities after the fact, when the emperor was in his rut."

"But they didn't know he was politically capable before then," Niki pointed out, her gaze narrowed in consideration. "Skeppy's right, it was an impulsive choice to begin with.  Bad shouldn't have had time to build up a faction behind him, given his background, and considering what has happened since then, there shouldn't be anyone in his corner pushing for him to take over the crown prince position again." 

With the exception of his blackmailer, of course.  Ant shared a look with Skeppy and knew that the golem hybrid was following a similar train of thought.  Had the blackmailer really been in control of the situation even way back when Sapnap had been initially been adopted?  But Bad hadn't been worried then, had been thrilled when Skeppy had proposed, which meant that if the blackmailer was somehow responsible, Bad hadn't been aware of it until recently. 

Who had the power back then?  That was before security had really tightened up in the royal wing, so there was certainly more traffic, but those that had both the means and motive were a more limited number, meaning that they should have fewer suspects.  But who outside their allies could possibly-

And maybe, just  maybe, the blackmailer wasn't outside their allies at all. 

Sweet Prime, where better to hide a tree if not among a forest?  

An ally with almost unlimited access and trust, an ally that no one would doubt or question – that would certainly make Bad so sad and reluctant and scared.  The enemy they were facing wasn't some unknown face, but a very real, well-rooted ally. 

Perhaps it was the stress and lack of sleep talking, but it seemed to make perfect sense.  And the more Ant thought about it, the more he could come back to only one family, the family everyone trusted implicitly, whose code of honor left room for no doubt.

The Wastakens. 

They held substantial control over public opinion.  They could shift the narrative however they so chose, and more than that, Duchess Wastaken still had made little to no progress tracking the individuals that had brought Bad to her notice in the first place, likely because they'd never existed at all.  

Sam had mentioned once in passing that the former emperor and empress had not been the most lenient of rulers.  This was the most disparaging comment he had made towards them, but Ant had been at the top of his classes for a reason, he could read between the lines.  The late emperor and empress Craft had been tyrants before Philza had taken over, and if the Wastakens were worried about a repeat- were worried over Philza's stability, their code of honor necessitated that they look after the good of the empire no matter the cost.  It was why they were one of the neutral factions. When Philza made crown prince an elected position, why wouldn't they make a move to provide a solid candidate?  Someone that they had firmly under their thumb?  And if that was the case- if Bad was so afraid of them- what were they truly capable of, to make him afraid rather than willingly cooperative?  Just what were they doing?

And Prime damnit, Duke Wastaken was one of Bad's watchers.  It was just- it was all-

"Ant?' Skeppy said, soft voice pulling the bearer from his spiraling thoughts. "Are you okay?"

No, because his papa was dead.  Because Eret was dead but Eret might not be dead but if he was dead, that would be a good reason to make George – who was strongly connected to the Wastakens – duke of Essempi.  And if Sam was dead, that would be a good reason to make Josh, his designated heir and also connected to the Wastakens through Jack – duke of Awe.  

Had Jack been kidnapped to get Sam and Eret to move?  Had there been an accident with Jack, who wasn't supposed to die?  Sam and Eret had been lured into a trap – had been potentially shifted out of the way, all of it some elaborate chess game to make Bad the next emperor.  

It was too complicated; it didn't make sense.  What was even happening? 

Were the Wastakens evil?  Had their mistake that had cost Jack his life cause Dream to go feral, weighed down with the guilt of it all?  Someone had set Sam and Eret against each other, but who would have the power for such a thing, and more than that, who would both of the two most paranoid individuals in the empire trust to allow for such a thing?

Had it always been the Wastakens?

But why Bad?  They could have shaped the empire with Wilbur, who was also a Nether hybrid – and maybe that was the intent, but when Wilbur became a consort, they had to scramble for another option.  Back then, Sapnap hadn't been close with Dream at all, so Bad had been the logical choice, maybe? 

It was all so much.

Belatedly, Ant realized he was crying.  He understood now why Bad might feel just so helpless. 

"It won't be enough," Skeppy urged. "To make Bad crown prince again, don't worry.  It literally just changed to Sapnap and he's a much better fighter, and if the Wastakens can- can spread rumors that maybe Sapnap would have won if given a chance, it will look especially validated-"

Ant swallowed a sob.  Would the Wastakens do that?

'I'll admit I have been expecting this conversation for some time now,' Clara had said, because she'd been such good friends with Sam.  But what if she hadn't? 

Ant didn't know.  He couldn't see far enough ahead to be certain.

"Perhaps you should take him to bed," Niki said, the words more of an order than the suggestion they were presented as.  A distraught bearer wasn't going to help them keep a level head, wasn't going to help with planning.  A distraught bearer was a distraction. "It's been a long day."

"Yeah," Skeppy breathed, and Ant allowed his fiancé to guide him out of the room, taking slow, steady breaths to keep the sobs at bay.

Maybe it was nothing.

But maybe it was everything, and that was the bigger problem.

Chapter Text

It took a few days before Ant was able to contact Lindsay.  Skeppy, sensing his need to stay near his prime nesting territory, had no issues bouncing between the Manifold Estate and the castle, even when they'd previously agreed to split their time between Ant's estate and Blade Manor equally.  The one time Ant attempted to work up the nerve to apologize for his greediness, Skeppy only gave him an odd look before cuddling him closer.  It was Josh that had to explain it later – Josh, who was weary but fond of Ant's inability to entirely understand the baser intricacies of Protectors.  

"It's not even a little bit of a problem," Josh explained. "He doesn't feel slighted or cheated because it's very clear that this is something you need, and he only wants to support you."

"That's not fair," Ant had complained, on principle.  Skeppy should be at least a little bit upset.

"That's like being upset that the sky is blue," Josh had huffed, unimpressed. "You don't have to like it; it's just the way things are." 

When put like that, it made it seem slightly less reasonable for Ant to try and argue against it. 

Ant and Skeppy tagged out with Karl and Sapnap when it came to watching the royal princes.  The older bearers were still on bedrest and would remain so for another week just to be safe.  Wilbur – who they'd been more worried about – seemed to be recovering brilliantly, positively revived by the arrival of his youngest son, though it was clear that his jubilation was markedly diminished by George's current stay in the infirmary.  The young duke's status was being kept on a need-to-know basis that Ant wasn't a part of.  Granted, he could always use his bearer whiles to decide that he should be included, but he didn't like abusing his authority in such a way, so for now he left the matter in the capable hands of Ponk and the others. 

Things had been busy, with birthday preparations on the horizon and spring finally washing over the land once more.  Word of Bad's contributions quickly spread throughout the upper ranks of the empire with an expediency that Ant couldn't help but be suspicious of, and while his instincts were thrilled to have his chosen properly recognized for once the way he should be, a greater part of him was filled with dread as he speculated those that had hastened the spread of information.  Niki had already confirmed that it wasn't the work of the Communications Council and Martyn – George's assistant – claimed that it wasn't the work of any Essempi publishing house, which left the probable proponents to a handful of secret information networks – the largest of which was likely the Wastakens. 

Marquess Manifold, who seemed to understand that Ant's anxiety was best assuaged by facts, had been entirely transparent and forthright with whatever information he'd been able to collect, which was unfortunately little.

"It wasn't us," was all his grandfather had said, his expression set in a grave display of severity. "And it wasn't the Awes.  That is unfortunately all I have been able to discern, though it does narrow down the suspects somewhat." He cocked his head in thought, not seeming to notice the tension that gripped Ant's frame. "My current theory lies with Lord Consort Wilbur's own network – they are rather fond of their employer, and would be most motivated to spread information of his caretaker should they feel that they were unduly slighted." 

It made a frustrating amount of sense, though it was a relief to be provided an option that wasn't just another glowing arrow pointing right towards the Wastakens.

Ant tried to stay light and cheerful for the sake of the pups, for the sake of Skeppy and Sapnap and the other young nobles.  He knew his mood could drastically affect everyone in the royal wing, and he didn't want anyone to think that he was perhaps sad about the arrival of the new princes or that he was jealous, of all damn things, even though he suspected that was what some of them currently feared.  

"I used to be so good about hiding my emotions," Ant complained to Josh, who had submitted to his cuddles with less wheedling than normal. 

"No, you used to repress the shit out of your emotions and not properly engage with the world," Josh countered with a grumble. "And no one's mad at you for not doing that anymore." 

The sass.  Ant really had trained him too well. "I just don't want them to get the wrong idea."

Josh canted a knowing glance his direction, eyes glowing with a smoldering heat. "There were enough people at that meeting that they have an idea of what you're truly mad about.  We won't allow any misconceptions to spread now that we know it's a concern." 

"I feel like an asshole," Ant complained.  Because who was upset that their chosen could be in consideration for crown prince again?

It was likely years of interaction that allowed Josh to understand what Ant was getting at without the cat hybrid ever properly articulating himself. "You're upset because Bad might be considered for something he actively does not want and is afraid of.  You might be an asshole, but not because of that." 

"When did you get so smart?" Ant complained, pinching Josh's cheek. "Who said you were allowed to be wise?" 

"Someone needs to keep you in check," Josh complained, leaning into Ant's attention. 

Ant hoped he did the same for Josh.  Hoped he was helping, but-

A hard lump settled in Ant's throat. "Sometimes I'm afraid I'm holding you back," he admitted. "You have to take care of me a lot, more than I ever do you, nowadays."

"Um- what?" Ant wasn't sure if it helped that Josh seemed genuinely befuddled. "Ant, do you remember the literal years you spent keeping me in touch with society?  Keeping me relevant in social circles when my grandfather would just as soon lock me away?  You brought me information and comfort and unending support for years." 

"Sure," Ant said. "But you're my baby."

"And you're my family," Josh countered, reaching up to poke Ant's forehead. "You helped me so long without second thought and now I finally get to return the favor.  It's nice.  I'm glad to do it, now stop listening to the part of your brain that says you have to be self-sufficient and can't risk leaning on other people, because it's wrong." 

"Oh Josh," Ant breathed, hugging him closer. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Josh said. "This last year's been awful, but I'm always happy to be here for you, Ant."

"Back at you, pup," Ant cooed, and then they just- spent time basking with each other, enjoying each other's company.  It had been just the two of them so long, fighting in Sam's corner.  They were bonded as the two that truly understood the wonder that was Duke Samuel Awe, who'd thought so little of the technological marvels he had introduced into the world.  He was the most underrated of the dukes, and Ant and Josh – they'd been let in on the secret.  They were in the know when everyone else was too busy being prejudiced and stupid. 

Ant suspected that he would always miss Sam, but at the very least, he had Josh by his side to make that absence a bit easier to bear. 

Ant allowed himself to lean on the others and found that they thrived to be permitted such a thing.  It helped him get through until he could at least meet with Lindsay, who was now quite difficult to spend time with.

As an avian bearer not affiliated with the crown, Lindsay had become queen of the aristocratic faction seemingly overnight after the Winter Knight Tournament.  Their presence had given the weaker faction its first real legs to stand on and they'd been making the most of it, trying to stabilize the political powers at work.  Between that and their private investigations, Ant had seen little of them, and as he hadn't wanted to pull focus, he hadn't attempted to reach out.  That really couldn't be the case anymore, not for the emotional stability of his pack, so he gave in and finally requested a secret meeting at the duchess’ earliest leisure.  Ant had expected it to take a month, but the duchess had met with him in a matter of days.

And perhaps it was because he was a bearer and perhaps it was because he was Sam's pup but either way, it had made Ant feel a bit warm and comforted inside, for all that the topic of their conversation really couldn't put him at ease. 

But such was the way of life.  He'd done many unpleasant things for the sake of survival – what was one more?

They met in a private sitting room that Ant's grandfather had set aside for their usage, Lindsay scheduled to enter through yet another one of the secret passages Ant wasn't allowed to explore (he and Josh hadn't even known of them until his coming out party, and they'd both been put out after being barred from further knowledge and exploration – rumor had it that the passages may lead to a system of very secret, very illegal Nether tunnels, which meant that the marquess was trying to keep them safe through the power of plausible deniability).  He was supposed to be practicing his embroidery, but in private, and with guards posted outside the door, that was a very fair reason for a bearer to be all by himself, though perhaps he should have brought Skeppy in as well?  Ant had been torn about that – he should share his concerns, but if he was overreacting, he didn't want to burden the golem hybrid who'd already gone through so much.  As it was, Skeppy now had a tendency to instigate a full shift whenever he was too emotionally worked up, which to this point had only happened when Quackity had gone into labor, but that was still- Ant didn't want to add any stress to his life.  Not if he didn't have to. 

Sam trusted Lindsay, trusted Gavin and the entire Jones family implicitly.  They had never treated Ant like anything less than family, and he would gladly do the same for them. 

"Ant!" Lindsay greeted as they fumbled out of the secret passage, their brows furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?" 

"I-" To this day, Ant was still taken off guard by that question when it came from individuals other than the Manifolds, other than Skeppy, because he wasn't really used to others looking after him. "Um." He blinked, a pointed heat building behind his eyes.

"I'll take that as a no," Lindsay said before they bustled over to the couch he was perched on, throwing off the heat-proof cloak that protected their wings (from the Nether? but Ant couldn't actually ask without ruining the plausible deniability thing) and wrapping one of the feathered appendages around him like a buffer from the rest of the world.  Ant had seen Philza and Quackity do similar acts with their own pups many times before, and it was jarring to receive similar treatment. "What is it, kitty cat?  What can I help with?  Is this a bearer thing?  Or did you just need a private ear to listen?" 

"I feel like I might be going mad with paranoia," Ant admitted, slumping into their hold. "I need a politically savvy outside opinion, and you guys seem to have the clearest perspective without getting muddled with emotions and history and relationships."

"I'm always happy to be a fresh set of eyes," Lindsay said, and it helped that their expression was schooled into one of cool consideration, that they were giving this the thought that it was due. "What's going on?" 

"I was just struck with an um- irrational fear," Ant admitted. "I was tired and we were all emotionally worn out and exhausted, but the- the whole thing with Bad- with how quickly that information spread, it just hit me the wrong way."

"That's fair," Lindsay said, grimacing. "The fact that we still haven't been able to track that really grinds my gears." 

"And I thought," Ant continued. "Just- based on what I know- but what if... what if the Wastakens did it?" 

"That's a fair concern," Lindsay said. "They are an intensely secretive duchy, and the only real guarantee that they haven't used their information network to spread rumors is their word."

Because no one could mess with Wastaken territory – it was part of their family's founding bylaws when they'd been established in the empire.  No one had permission to enter their home territory without permission, they held most of their social engagements in outside facilities, they were allowed to wear masks and more than that- no one was allowed to look in on their businesses.  They submitted reports to the crown, and as long as there was nothing suspicious, they were left alone.  No one had ever questioned it because they were a family entirely dedicated to honor, and so long as the crown acted in an honorable fashion, they had no reason to lash out at the powers above them.  They carried out the law of the empire, much like Las Nevadas carried out the charity – it was separate from the crown, allowing the authority to operate in the way they best saw fit. 

"There are other things," Ant said before running Lindsay through the worst-case scenarios he'd built up in his mind.  

About how they couldn't track Bad's travel to the Overworld, about how his initial appointment didn't make sense.  About why he might be so scared, about how the information could spread.

"It's not a perfect explanation," Ant admitted. "The motivations are... muddled, and it's hard to think that they would make Bad so scared that he'd want to fight them rather than cooperate.  It's not like he has a deep-rooted loyalty to the Crafts and wants to object on principle, like he thinks he's at risk for taking Tommy's birthright or something.  Just- if they were his benefactors who'd been nothing but good to him, even if there was some hesitation, I think he'd be won over easily enough.  Why go through this level of effort to fight them?" 

It was difficult for Ant to factor himself into things, but Josh had been pointed enough in his reminders for Ant to be aware that even if he didn't think his status as a bearer affected things, it unquestionably did.  Bad was one of Ant's chosen – even if there was no romantic or physical interest there – he would still theoretically hate to keep himself from Ant if he didn't have to.  Unless it was an utmost necessity, and it very much seemed to be one.  There was also the fact that Bad's blackmailer was a high-level magic user – whom they'd assumed was from out of the empire – but who out of the empire would have the kind of political sway that Bad could actually be afraid of?  It just made too much sense, but it also didn't, unless their assumption that the Wastakens were decent wasn't actually true. 

Lindsay's expression was set in a stern frown, an intense focus fixed to the other side of the room as they gathered their thoughts. "Sam left us some coded information," was what they settled on eventually. "He and Gavin – they'd developed a secret cousin code that they used in most of their letters to each other.  Given the quantity of information, it's been taking Gavin some time to work through all of it but, Empress Kristin's pregnancy..."

"I know about the attack," Ant cut in. "Duchess Wastaken told me.  Sort of.  At least, the basics."

Lindsay nodded. "The story was that Empress Kristin flew through the rain to visit the Wastakens and fell deathly ill.  She continued to decline after that, never really recovering with the bulk of that decline attributed to the difficulty of avian pregnancies – which are no joke, I've had three," Lindsay said, shooting him a wink. "I probably shouldn't have pushed my luck, even as a bearer – it's why I never tried for more – but if the empress was poisoned... that would have been a very difficult pregnancy to carry out, and Bad was treating her for most of it.  Was there when she passed.  Was brought in by the Wastakens."

"What are you saying?" 

"I'm just working through it," Lindsay replied, wing curling more firmly around Ant. "Sam wasn't sure where the initial attack happened, but I don't think that's the important part here.  What we should focus on was that they took Empress Kristin to the Wastakens to be treated.  Sam said that their runes and magic were supposed to stabilize her, but they didn't heal her."

"Because they couldn't," Ant said, thinking of how sorrowful Duchess Wastaken had seemed when she'd admitted that.

"Or maybe they just- wouldn't," Lindsay countered. "They could, but they didn't, because they needed the Craft line to end, because while their pack has historically been aligned with the crown, they are in actuality in line with justice, and if the crown wasn't supporting that anymore..." They shook their head as though to clear it. "Back when Philza was initially crowned, two rebel armies sprang into existence in an attempt to monopolize the transition of power before he could be properly settled.  Do you know where one of them was based?"

"I- I hadn't even heard of that," Ant admitted.

"You would have been young at the time," Lindsay said. "It was kept quiet.  We only knew of it because of Sam's coded letters, but one of the armies based in Awe territory.  Awe territory, a land of engineers and innovation.  A land with a young, inexperienced duke who had suffered great loss.  It was a clever choice, and yet another blow against Sam's confidence, but guess where the other army was based?"

Ant swallowed hard. "The Wastaken territory," he said, words coming in a dull rasp.

"Opposite ends of the empire," Lindsay said. "No one would think that they were connected, but if they were, and they were prompted by the Wastakens themselves, it would be the two most strategic places.  One in their land, where they could control it, and one in the land of the least experienced duke, who wouldn't know to look for it." 

"What would they even gain from that, though?" Ant asked. "Wouldn't that just lose them a lot of people?  Wouldn't they want the armies to succeed?  They have a chokehold on the military – if they wanted to throw a coup, they could." 

"That's the thing," Lindsay mused. "Armies don't come out of nowhere, they take time to organize.  Far more time than the few months that were listed in Sam's reports." 

Ant paused. "You think-"

"I think those armies were intended for the previous emperor and empress," Lindsay said. "And then they suddenly died and plans had to readjust, because Philza hadn't committed the same wrongs.  Or maybe they thought that Philza could be more easily guided." 

"But they changed their minds by the time Empress Kristin came around," Ant said. "Why?" 

"Years of inaction, perhaps," Lindsay mused. "He waited a long time to be married, and in that time, Schlatt came into power, and Philza allowed it." Lindsay cocked their head to the side. "Maybe that was enough." 

"Just-" Ant began, struggling to put his thoughts into coherent sentences. "It's so weird.  There’re so many puzzle pieces.  We were so sure it was the Essempis that were behind Sam and Eret, but it doesn't explain everything.  And now it seems likely that the Wastakens are responsible for certain things..." He shook his head. "The only duchy not currently in consideration is Las Nevadas, and that's only because Quackity cleaned up after Schlatt." 

"But before then, that duchy was also a mess," Lindsay said, their eyes going wide. "Every duchy was compromised or implicated in some way, the four most powerful factions..."

"What?" Ant pressed when they trailed off in thought. "What is it?" 

"It is something unfounded," Lindsay began, gaze narrowing into a hawk-like focus. "But my gut and bearer instincts have gotten me this far, and I'm not going to start ignoring it now." They shifted their attention towards Ant, who felt struck still, overwhelmed with the weight of their intensity. "Do you trust me?"

"Without question," Ant said, comforted by the fact that it was true. He'd spent so long regarding others with the utmost suspicion, terrified of compromising the peace he'd earned for himself as an unremarkable member of society.  He hadn't realized what a weight that lifted off of him until it was gone, hadn't realized how much it had conflicted with managing external relationships. 

"Then I think – scary and dangerous as it is – that we need to have a meeting." They tilted their head down as though to emphasize the urgency of the situation. "With everyone." 

Ant choked. "You mean-"

"Everyone," Lindsay repeated, and it didn't need to be said for Ant to know that included the Wastakens. "Do you trust your instincts, Ant?" 

"I... yeah," he said, because once upon a time, he hadn't.  Once upon a time, he'd been surrounded by danger and regarded everyone as predators that could make his life hell.  Sam had been the one to change that, had protected and thoroughly spoiled Ant – then allowed Ant the means to spoil himself – until he had felt safe.  Because that was who Sam was. 

"Me too," Lindsay said, smiling. "And I feel like the Wastakens are good, just like I know Sam was good, and maybe they did some bad things for good reasons and maybe... no, I'm almost certain someone took advantage of that."

"How?" Ant pressed, hands curling into tight fists against his knees. 

"For that, we're going to need everyone," Lindsay said. "It will take a few days, but it needs to be done.  Just- just trust me."

"Okay," Ant said, because at the end of the day, scared though he was, he wanted to trust both Lindsay and himself.  His initial suspicions of the Wastakens had felt like a natural conclusion based on the options presented, though it didn't explain everything. "Okay, let's do that."

~:~

As Lindsay suspected, it took a few days for everyone to be able to meet in secret.  In that time, George was still secluded in the medical wing (he had woken up briefly, or so Ant had heard, before falling back asleep again, though this time Ponk seemed hopeful, like it was a healing coma or something) and Quackity had just been taken off of bedrest and cleared for light activity, which involved engaging in super-secret political meetings.  As far as anyone knew, Quackity retired to the first nest he'd built in the bearer's suite with Prince Charlie for some nesting time with Techno.  From there, the piglin hybrid carried him through the secret passages down to the Nether tunnels Ant shouldn't know about that would take them to the securest facility they had available – the Wastaken Estate.  The bulk of the others followed similar routes to the meeting room, but Ant was the only one allowed to be obvious about his visit, arriving via carriage courtesy of a personal tea invitation from Duchess Wastaken.  Josh had been invited as well, and for once accepted the offer as Ant's main protector – Skeppy – had to stay behind and guard the royal princes.  It was the only way Quackity's instincts would allow him to leave the castle.  On paper, Duchess Wastaken was getting a feel for the future leaders of two new duchies to see what faction they may enter.  Even if it was all but obvious where their allegiance fell, it wouldn't be amiss for her to give them a courtesy visit.  It was an honor, after all, to be invited into Wastaken territory, and Ant would have worried about unbalancing the political scales were it not for the fact that Duke Essempi split half of his time with the Wastakens (when he wasn’t in a coma), therefore highlighting some level of consideration towards the Aristocratic Faction. 

Ant and Marquess Manifold had already briefed Josh on most of what they knew.  The young blaze protector had been far from pleased, of course, at the idea of them trying to protect him and lighten his burdens by adding to their own.  They'd already had an argument about such matters that Ant had to ultimately cheat his way through with a furious application of bearer purrs and coos that Josh had glared at him for until collapsing into his cuddles (let it not be said that Ant was above playing dirty) and now Josh was fully aboard the let's solve problems train, and regardless of whatever happened, Ant felt substantially better that they were both on the same page.  After this, he could hopefully do the same with Skeppy, but first, he wanted to see how this meeting would go.

Were the castle entirely secure, they would have held the meeting there out of respect to Quackity and his flock.  But Lindsay couldn't be seen there when they were taking on a position of direct opposition to the crown, and the security of the castle – while better – had still been violated before, whereas the Wastaken Estate was a veritable fortress.  Hopefully, it would stay that way. 

They were greeted by Clara waiting maskless at the front door, the duchess flanked by the group of minimal servants that were used by the Wastaken Estate.  They were led into a different meeting room before the servants were dismissed, and Clara wasted no time guiding them into a secret passage to take them into the basement of the manor to meet the others.

She hadn't even hesitated.  These were family secrets, and she hadn't so much as paused to reveal them for a meeting that was arranged at Ant's request, because she believed in him.

‘A piglin’s trust is not easily earned,' she had said once. ‘But once given, it is offered without compromise.' 

She had been saying it about Eret and Sam at the time, but Ant knew full well that it applied to all of them.

That had to count for something.  If the Wastakens really were dirty, he had to believe that Clara wasn’t involved in it.  That she was manipulated, providing unintentional and unknowing assistance to whatever shadowy foe was lurking in the shadows.

Ant’s throat felt tight with apprehension as Clara ushered them into the secret meeting room.  The three of them were the last to arrive, which in a way, was a comfort.  Ant didn’t think his nerves would be able to stomach further waiting.  He and Josh didn’t hesitate to cut a path to Marquess Manifold’s side, who’d been waiting close to Lindsay who was wearing one of their more subdued outfits, complete with a heat-protectant cloak that covered their wings, much like Quackity.  The Duke of Las Nevadas was currently cuddling in Techno’s lap, possessively guarding a small mound against his chest that could only be Prince Charlie.  Foolish lingered beside them, resting his trident against his shoulder.  He had been given explicit permission to teleport in for this meeting, and seemed to understand the severity of the situation because of it.