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Chapter Text

THE PALACE COURTIERS ARE FLUTTERING ABOUT. Much like worker ants preparing their mess of a hive, the courtiers work in an organized ruckus. They are preparing an entire palace, after all, one that had been just recently abandoned. Now various individuals are flooding through the entrances trying to fit in narrow, dusty, and rusted passageways. Maids, swordsmen, culinary artists, courtiers and the like are preparing for something seemingly grand.

“What do you think we’re rushing for?”

“The third prince, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“There’s a third prince?”

The courtiers finish their duties, executing what is expected of them in perfection. Soon enough they line up along the entrance, postures fixed and eyes staring ahead. Yet their minds wander in thought of the reason for their sudden orders. What had happened? 

They stand in wait along the entrance, waiting before the grand doors of this old palace that had just been refurbished all but a minute ago. It was said to the servants that it had been the direct orders of the Imperial Prince, though no one knew for certain and that had them buzzing in intrigue. 

Servants line the hall in attention. Being assigned something this grand, this was surely a privilege for them all to witness the reason. The third prince, they said. The third prince clearly must be loved as to have an entire palace prepared for him. Though it was no secret. No royal is unwanted in this country, after all.

It might seem like they could not possibly look any more proper to face and greet royalty, yet when the grand doors recently oiled by the hinges click and creak as it opens wide they achieve an even more flawless execution of posture.

Almost ridiculously flawless, even.

As the door opens, however, there are no escorts. There is no grandeur, nor ceremony. There is no one who announces even the name of the new arrival.

And so intrigue overrides protocol as, one at a time, the servants turn their heads curiously towards the door. Normally such impudence would be greeted with a scolding, but they knew that maybe it would have been worth it.

So it was. 

Before them is the esteemed swordswoman, a Captain of the Imperial Army who might as well have served as the index finger of the Emperor himself. That much is a rumor, yet such a rumor is proven true by the fact that in her arms is a bundle of fabric that signifies her true station above any of them. She is assigned a task far more precious and important than any of them who gawk. 

Though despite her station she stands haggardly at the forefront of the palace, clothes rumpled, hair frazzled, tired and weary but clutching the bundle in her arms like a lifeline. 

“Captain Puffy,” One of them breaks away from the line and looks at her with a confused expression, one that grows to concern when Puffy’s eyes drag itself slowly to look at them. “Captain, I apologize for the impudence but… may I ask what we are here for?” 

The woman recognizes him. He’s the younger brother of a noble from the North who had come here to serve the Imperial family. Of course he would have been more brave in asking his questions, Puffy had once been a family friend of theirs, after all. 

“We are brought here upon the orders of the Emperor,” She watches as the faces of courtiers shift from shock, to awe, and finally, dread. The Emperor, they realize, not the prince– “to raise, protect, and care for the youngest Prince.”

The Captain looks down at the bundle.

“The Third Prince, Theseus.”

AND THESEUS HAD LOOKED UP AT HIS OLDER BROTHER. His jeweled blue eyes, sapphires, cold as the Blood Prince’s heart.

“You will never understand the love I have for my brother, Imperial Prince.” Theseus speaks his truth, with nothing but poison and hatred for the older brother whose warmth he once sought for. “I would rather die than attempt at his life.”

The eldest prince looks down at Theseus.

“How fortunate. You have sought to do both.”

Before the public’s eye—and that included an incapable and inconsolable William, their Imperial, ruthless, Blood Prince drew his sword. He raised it mockingly against Theseus’ cheek. “Greet mother for me. At the very least, she will be pleased to meet you.” He says to Theseus, yet no one but themselves are able to hear.

And he had withdrawn his sword for a moment. William was relieved—had his twin reconsidered this act, perhaps?

The hope kindled for a moment. Had his songs reached his brother? William’s pride swells in his chest, yet if only for the briefest moment–

The sword dropped to Theseus’ neck.

“Theseus,” A nameless woman with a maid’s headcap coos at him, the baby who is notably not supposed to be called Theseus and is instead Tommy. “What a precious boy,” she continues. “I really have no idea what to do with your brother.” The woman laments.

Tommy attempts to swat at the woman, but the act isn’t quick nor is it anything nearly as fatal. “Screw off!” He tries to say, but it  only resulted in regular garble. The sneer he attempted to make looked nothing intimidating, and merely adorable.

She smiles back at him, blissfully unaware of his attempts at her life or at her self-esteem.

“She would have loved you.” She says rather ominously.

Tommy thinks it’s dumb. Everyone loves him, obviously. He doesn’t have need for affirmation. 

But more importantly, he’s not supposed to be here.

Prior to waking up as a mere infant, Tommy was falling. From where? He has not the slightest clue. He remembers it vaguely, but he’s pretty sure he’s supposed to be dead right now. Tommy remembers losing consciousness (and in turn, possibly dying) in something cold, because the impact from the fall was apparently not enough to kill him in one go. He only needed to freeze a little before finally succumbing to the sweet, supposedly everlasting embrace of death.

He had really felt content in it.

It was nice, warm, and comfortable. 

If that was eternity, he would have loved it. And it should have loved him too.

But death had let go of him all of a sudden, and now here he is. He’d awoken from his supposed eternal sleep like this: a child.

A child with a cursed name—Theseus. Tommy doesn’t like that name. He doesn’t particularly remember how such a name slighted him so, but he does have such distaste for it. Not to mention, there’s a lot of tragedies aligned with people named Theseus. Not only was he a dick in his mythology, his name was also aligned with a very concerning tragedy.

For some reason people just loved to write tragedy after tragedy about men named Theseus. He knows all of two tragedies, the myth, and a book.

Theseus was also the name of a prince with a similar background as himself– not that it matters anyway. He was an insignificant fictitious prince. Theseus had been the name of the youngest prince in a novel Tommy once loved to read. 

It’s safe to say that Tommy knows very little about a Theseus who lived a long and happy life, he however intends to change that.

He doesn’t want to be like the other Theseus-es. Poor fucks.

“Theseus, darling, are you hungry?” His caretaker asks, breaking him out of his lament-filled stupor. 

Tommy frowns, lifting his arms and shaking it across instead of up and down. He can’t shake his head, annoyingly so. His neck muscles are still too young. “No!” He answers as an act of rebelling, but all it releases is a vague sound of multiple vowels and a pop of his lip.

This leads to his next lament.

Couldn’t he have woken up as a more mobile kid? Isn’t there a thing where toddlers don’t have any real sense of consciousness or sense of self?

Did he have to wake up as a fucking infant?

The woman frowns for some reason and then looks up at the grandfather clock that serves as his only companion most of the time.

He tries to look at it as well, before giving up. His neck barely works the way he wants it to. He tries to tilt it up and he ends up curling. It’s maddening. He’s a weakling. He’s admitting it to himself but not to anyone else. He’s a little squishy weakling, and he abhors it with a passion.

She looks back down at Tommy with a smile. “I’ll be calling the head maid, okay?” Is all she says before walking away and out the door.

Tommy stays, because where else would an immobile infant go? To the End? (He hopes. Maybe he’ll have a better time there than here).

The maid returns, but this time there is someone else with her. Puffy, he recognizes his ram-horned companion by those really cool looking eyes, slits lying horizontally. A goat’s eye or a ram’s maybe. She’s unique to a lot of the servants he’s seen around here for that reason alone. It’s not very atypical to Tommy though, since these features have been normalized since long ago. He finds it odd how he sees less of them around here than when he’d been in his original body– maybe it’s a world building thing.

Oddity in this society aside, he does like Puffy. She treats him properly, with the slightest belief that Tommy is at least a fraction smarter than a typical child his age.

Which is good because he’s sixteen.

“Hello there, Theseus!” Puffy greets him with a smile. “Have you been troubling the maid?”

Puffy is the Head Maid, but the way she holds herself and the way that the people act around her makes Tommy suspect that she’s actually more than that. Is it because she’s got horns and ram eyes? He’s yet to find out what, exactly, he does however  know that she’s got some form of power over the others that frequent around the place.

Tommy babbles, practicing his speech and hoping that one day he’d get it right—to no avail of course, because he’s an infant.

Despite the obvious lack in ability to do so, Tommy attempts to say Obviously.

She smiles. “Okay, can you do the thing you did when you were asked if you were hungry?”

Tommy shakes his hands left and right (embarrassingly not in sync).

“Are you bored?”

He pauses a little, feeling fatigued from all the shaking she was making him do, before now shaking his hands up and down. All the while babbling. Ugh, this game is so embarrassing, but at least she knows he’s not just some mindless baby. She talks to him like he could understand her, and he does! The other maids just hasn’t gotten the memo yet.

Puffy nods, before taking Tommy into her arms. “He isn’t hungry.” She explains, finger poking at his palm. Tommy scowls when his fingers curl in reflex around her finger, but Puffy seems none the wiser regarding his disdain. In fact, she seems to be amused by the act– both the palmar reflex and the scowl on his face. “He’s bored.”

Internally, Tommy feels himself sag in relief. She may be taking advantage of his cuteness, but at least she takes him seriously.

Finally, someone who gets him.

That was until he felt his stomach grumble. Tommy feels himself blush. Oh that’s cringe. That’s so cringe.

“Or he was lying.” Puffy teases.

Tommy abhors this infant body. He just wants his cool, totally muscular one back.

Life in the palace is infuriating easy as an infant. There’s not much that Tommy has to do other than babble and act cute in hopes that maybe they wouldn’t treat him like shit at the side of the road.

It’s been an uneventful few months since he’d been rudely woken up and shoved into this infant body. Now he is at least able to crawl. He sits up, and he exercises regularly. Crawling doesn’t take much to learn, but it did take a while to finally gain the muscles required for the act. Being an infant was such hard work, he doesn’t know why so many people hope to be one again.

Tommy sits on Puffy’s lap. She is pointing images to him and assigning them things.

He’d long since learned about that and would push each book he didn’t like off her hands until he finally got something of interest. Damn it, Puffy, he doesn’t need to relearn what a fucking pig is.

To Puffy’s credit, she’s patient enough to last until Tommy finally settled on a book that piqued his interest.

Politics.

He doesn’t know how Puffy managed to pick this up among the choices of bloody fucking baby books and alphabet textbooks, but he shouldn’t discredit her. She seems to trust his judgement and believes that he is smarter than he seems.

“Your lineage, Theseus.” She said when she’d settled with this book. “I think this would be of interest to you, do you agree?”

Fortunately for him, and especially fortunate for the tired Puffy, Tommy does agree. He pulls at the book rather than shoving it away, prompting Puffy to giggle. “Alright, Theseus, we’re reading this.” She says.

And so Puffy takes her time pointing out the political system, and she explains it so concisely, as if she doesn’t expect Tommy to understand what she was saying.

He does though, so he learns a lot.

So, their country of residence was the Empire of Ice (eerily familiar, Tommy had thought.) and Tommy is known to be the Second Prince. Puffy shows a picture of the emperor.

He’s an odd thing for an emperor. The portrait shows sapphire jewel eyes that glitter in the light in such a majestic manner—as if his eyes were actually made of the finest riches of the world. Something about the weird description is eerily familiar to something he’s read before, but he doesn’t dare think about it. “Philza is an odd emperor,” Puffy snorts fondly, as if what she’s saying could not at all be considered treason punishable by death. 

“He’s not here often. No one knows why, but he came back once before– we have to believe he’ll do it again. People still call him the emperor despite the active ruler being your brother, the Imperial Prince.”

Tommy listens as he observes the portrait. The man is youthful despite his age—apparently centuries old as it is, totally not an abnormal fact and definitely not something he should take note of—He’s got golden hair that reaches down his shoulders. His eyes are a glittering sapphire, as mentioned a while ago, and Tommy has no clue if it’s an artistic depiction or not. The crown is crooked on his head, as if it was placed there haphazardly, but the air of confidence and charisma screams royalty to Tommy.

He babbles as he slams on the photo.

“Yes, Theseus, that’s your father.” She laughs, guiding his small hands to the portrait.

He frowns. That’s not what he meant.

In reality, what Tommy was saying was “You bastard, leaving your kid here all alone without family to care for me.” He speaks. “A proper shithead.”

Puffy turns a few pages, and Tommy sees how it skips the portrait of a brunette woman with brown eyes, and another brunet with sparkling blue eyes–there it is again with those eyes. That has to be some sort of artistic way of painting or something. He doesn’t mind her skipping the pages, because if Puffy skipped it then he likely doesn’t need to know much about them.

She stops at another portrait, and it’s a man with pink hair cascading over his shoulder in a neatly done braid. Some locks of hair have escaped the braid, framing his face. He notices how even compared to Philza, his crown was fancier, and dare he say gaudy.

But what really catches Tommy’s attention are his ruby eyes. It has the same jewel effect as Phil’s and Tommy’s starting to think that these weren’t just stylistic decisions and more alike to reality than he thinks.

“That’s your brother, Theseus.” Puffy points. She moves to the name labelled underneath it, and Tommy, an adult in a child’s body who has long learned how common speak functions, had already read it. “No one really knows his true name, other than Philza himself.”

He drowns out everything Puffy is saying, as he realizes his imminent doom. The words. That can’t be a coincidence, can it? That name, that damned name.

“And the name labelled here isn’t his true name, rather his preferred title. We don’t know of its origins either, but well, it struck the fear of the Empire’s enemies–outside or within.” She laughs, as if Tommy wasn’t looking at the source of his eventual demise.

“His majesty, the Imperial Prince of the Antarctic Empire Technoblade! Your older brother.”

It is then when Tommy’s gut sinks. He stares at the picture.

The Prince of Song.

It was an unassuming title of a book that not many of Tommy’s peers had read before-- not that the lot of them were interested in that sort of genre. It was a novel centered on a character of noble heritage, and it wasn’t a very fond topic for many of his friends and kin. Monarchy and Empires weren’t favorable for many of the people Tommy was acquainted with, and even the political system in the novel was far-fetched and not like the ones he’s seen before.

But Tommy had picked it up.

There were a lot of things Tommy would like to say about it.

For all the odd descriptions of its form of extreme ‘Monarchy’, Tommy had found himself at the very least liking it. It had adequate writing (which is a lot to say for his standard of literature, because Tommy was raised on Greek mythos and his literary fanatic brother), the world-building unique and fantastical (with creatures of odd origins and magic that are beyond the regular old enchantments), and the story was acceptable. 

It was centered on a cruel and lone prince in an Empire of Ice (uncreatively titled the Antarctic Empire. He personally thinks it’s lame and would prefer the Empire of Ice title) and his estranged twin brother, who had gone missing from birth.

The estranged prince had gone to the palace undercover to dethrone the Imperial Prince, yet upon arrival he found himself becoming fond of his brother and instead settled on the decision that he should instead change him. The estranged prince had been met with many dilemmas of royal life. It was centered a lot on humanitarian ways and a lot on the grey morality that one has to have when handling politics concerning millions upon millions of subjects.

He didn’t think it odd how it only briefly mentions an Emperor, and how it seemed like the acting ruler of the Empire was the eldest prince instead. He also didn’t think it odd how the familial dynamic was also very much implied and mentioned repeatedly and incessantly.

So far in the book, the only important characters had been the twins—one raised in riches, and the other in rags. The Prince of Blood, Technoblade, and the Prince of Song, William– the prince who pretended to be of common folk, rising up in the ranks without the use of the blood that runs in his veins. The true hero of the story.

But they weren’t the only children of the Emperor (as absent as he may seem). The emperor had  three children. The twin princes, and a youngest, unloved prince. The canon fodder.

For the sake of plot progression however, whoever the author was had decided to just off the poor kid.

His only purpose in the plot was to drive the estranged prince who loved him into finally overthrowing the Imperial Prince who had ordered the lone prince’s death.

Tommy had some semblance of sympathy when he read that part. He recalls that much. It was sad, but really if Tommy was in the unloved prince’s place, he would have been louder, more demanding, more assertive of the truth.

Unloved or not, he was a prince, for Prime’s sake. Act like it.

The execution was really nothing beyond a moment of sympathy. It was nothing special, nor was it something that he should really mind. The story was fictional, after all, even if he’d formed a little bit of attachment for the poor kid. He had paused for like five minutes after the youngest prince’s execution, before continuing.

The plot continues with the estranged twin brother overthrowing the Imperial prince, and thus ruling the empire instead of him. Due to some plot armor, the Imperial Prince was never killed and was instead trapped in an undisclosed location that even the readers weren’t privy to knowing.

And voila, happy ending, the aggressive ruler is replaced with a kind ruler, and that’s it.

Tommy had closed the book, left it on his bookshelf to be forgotten forever and went on with his life that concerns very little amounts of monarchy,chaos and execution.

It had been nothing special, truly.

So why is it that Tommy finds himself in the body of this unloved prince? Tommy pauses at that, letting the information sink in and sponge into his childish brain. He firmly places his hand on either side of the book, making sure that Puffy doesn’t move it until he’s made sense of his situation.

He looks up to Puffy, and points at his eyes—which only resulted to Tommy smacking his under eyelid with his fingers. It hurt, but this was a very important question that he hopes Puffy would understand. He really needs to confirm something. It was impertinent that he sees this– how has he never seen this before? He’s never seen himself before. To further show the importance of his question, Tommy babbles.

And thankfully, for whatever reason the deities that sent him down here had, she did understand.

“Oh! I realize that you’ve never seen your reflection, have you?” She laughs, before fishing something from her pockets. She brings out a little pocket-mirror, something small and convenient that folds into two so it can fit a pocket.

She opens it and turns it to Tommy. “That’s you, Theseus!” Puffy says with a smile and chipper tone. “Look, you look just like your brother.” She says it like it’s a good thing.

He sees himself, and he sees blond hair (much like the Emperor’s), and glittering, blue, jewel eyes.

Oh fuck.

Oh shit.

Tommy’s frustrations had finally spilled from his small, infant-sized body.

He outright bawls, sending Puffy into a panic because Tommy rarely ever cries, much less a full out bawling.

Tommy’s pride wouldn’t let that happen of course, because he’s not a kid.

But this situation calls for it.

He’s going to get executed for fuck’s sake.

Chapter Text

Theseus was seven years old when he first met a member of his family. The boy, prior to this meeting had not really cared for the lack of kin in his surroundings, but his caretaker told him all about them. He did not care about those stories though, because why would a seven-year-old child long for something so trivial as family? Why would he, when he has other concerns in his own Palace?

He had been in the garden after having wandered around for too long. There was very little that he could do in his spare time, after all, because other than his tutors who were unwilling to educate him , the maids had no interest in mingling with the unloved prince. His toys have been taken already, the maids had  told him that he was past the age for petty toys.

In reality though, they had stolen these treasures and sold them for riches.

Little Theseus had not minded, because this was what little he could offer to the people who were doomed in serving such a prince. He is belittling to be with, is what he was told.

Yet he had a shift in paradigm the moment he laid eyes on the first prince, his eldest brother, Technoblade.

Theseus had been lost, and had unknowingly crossed the border between the Emerald palace and the Sapphire palace. So, when he saw his elder brother’s large and confident stride, the glimmer of his ruby eyes that commanded respect, the way that everyone withered away at the side of his brother, Theseus could not believe himself.

He was related to this man, the Imperial Prince.

And for the briefest moment, a moment that Theseus would never forget in his life, the Imperial Prince had locked eyes with Theseus. Forever felt like a second. Just for the briefest second.

The little prince had felt his heart stop, as if it had also taken a moment to fully believe this moment.

The Imperial Prince, his brother, had only ignored the little prince.

But that moment was everything for little Theseus.

Tommy finds himself cringing at that particular memory regarding Theseus. He’s in the body of this wimp? What happened to ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’? This Theseus kid saw his brother and decided to dedicate his entire life to this image, only for him to get slain by his idol because he got accused of killing the brother who actually loved him?

Trash. Trash novel. Trash ‘family dynamic’. Trash. The lot of it.

Will Tommy change it? No, not much, because Theseus was the canon fodder. He wasn’t vital to the plot. The Imperial Prince could have killed anyone after being pissed off and William would have still called him out on this bullshit, and then dethrone him.

He won’t be changing the plot. If anything, he’ll be speeding it up because whichever poor fuck gets accused of killing William will take less steps until the execution. Less people will protest–not that there were much in the first place, but some people had tried if he remembered the novel correctly. So, he won’t be changing anything at all with his genius plan.

Which was to book it the fuck out of there.

The infantilized Tommy-slash-Theseus crawls around, ignoring how his knees might burn. He’s building resistance while he plots. Tommy ignores how Puffy, who had resigned to being the constant companion of Theseus after Tommy had decided not to deal with inadequate caretakers, looks at him fondly as he circles around on the carpet.

He babbles as he moves. He has to take oral note of his plans, after all.

The Imperial Prince, more informally known as the Blood Prince, and personally known as Prince Technoblade. He is a cruel prince and the acting ruler of the Antarctic Empire, the Empire of Ice. Even so, many acknowledge his atypical method of ruling as effective. The novel had taken great care in explaining why he’s been on the throne for as long as he has. The empire thrives, yet it thrives at the cost of a bloodshed of its own greedy people. Necessary evil, it had so kindly been pointed out.

That leads to the other name of the Sapphire palace, which was the Ruby court. With color alone, one could associate bloodshed with its origins. Which is correct. This had been the palace where tyrant dukes were called over, and where the Prince Technoblade killed them all off.

(Tommy personally hates this logic. Sure, dickhead, drop your youngest brother in your slaughterhouse. Pig bastard.)

The people of the Empire pride themselves on thinking that corruption is no issue in their country.

Tommy however thinks that it’s bullshit.

Corruption is definitely an issue here, because it’s a monarchy damn it. To think that despite the complaints of the palace court, the pig bastard had out and murdered his own brother.

Of course, Little Theseus did not know that.

At the age of seven, Theseus will have his presence known by Technoblade. Tommy does not want that. He doesn’t know if Technoblade in the novel had remembered that moment, or if it mattered at all to Technoblade, but Tommy does know that the best way to survive is not existing in Technoblade’s mind. Zero. None at all. Theseus who? This would make his plans of escape easy.

So far, he has a simple set of plans. A through C.

1.   Acquire enough riches and stash them. Make sure not to be known. Escape at the ripe age of Nine. This will make escape easier because they won’t know that he’s missing in the first place.
2.   Acquire enough riches and stash them up to the point where William appears into the story. That way, he won’t have any monetary problems and his disappearance would be overshadowed by the fact that William is there. They’ll focus on his presence!
3.   Appeal to the Imperial Prince just enough that he wouldn’t kill his youngest brother.

Tommy pauses and blinks in consideration at the last option.

He then ends up laughing. That’s not even an option.

Scratch what he said earlier. He’s got two plans. Plans A and B. Plan C is stupid and dumb and is probably from whatever is left of Theseus in him.

That part had better die because Tommy has no plans being executed. These Technoblade and William characters can screw off and find their own canon fodder to blame, execute, then mourn over, thank you very much. Too bad for them that Tommy found autonomy and decided to fuck off.

This leaves another issue though. He looks up at the top of the shelves, and finds that the sparkling, bejeweled trinkets are all missing. The first time he noticed his things disappearing he thought it was just his imagination, but when he witnessed a maid pocketing his golden rattle first-hand, Tommy had caused a riot and wailed.

Puffy had caught that maid and further investigated the issue. In the end, a lot of maids were discharged from duty due to theft, and without any further punishment left the palace. That was dumb but the fact that they were even stealing in the first place was even dumber. If he remembers the system of the palace’ court, the members are of fucking nobility. They have their own fucking money! They’re children with no other responsibilities since they’re not heirs, and they’re not particularly special. Nobility alone are able to take any sort of role in the fucking palace, which is to say– these fuckers were rich in the first place. Puffy intervened and maybe ruined their credibility, but…

It did not remove the issue, though.

His wealth is dwindling. These peasant-noble-bastards were stealing all his gold!

So here he is, practicing and exercising his muscles so he could walk. He’s going to hoard so much shit before it all gets stolen. It’s his. These people owe it to him! He’s literally destined to die! The audacity of them.

Truly, Puffy is the only one he could trust.

Tommy tilts his head up, now looking at her. She notices him, and she smiles. “Hello there, Theseus.” She coos.

Puffy, who mind you was previously the captain of the entirety of the Empire’s Naval Forces, second only to the command of the Royal Family. Truthfully, Tommy had not minded much about Theseus’ origins, but Puffy had been a character who caught his eye solely because she was badass.

She was the captain of the Empire’s Naval Forces, the one who acted on the orders of the Emperor before he left, but she had let go of her title in order to take charge of Theseus’ welfare. The novel had mentioned that the reason why Puffy had let go of such an important title was because she had children of her own in the North. She had sympathy for the little Prince who was going to be alone in the Sapphire Palace (once the Ruby Palace, which had been basically the royal slaughter house).

So she serves as both Tommy’s bodyguard and as his nanny.

Truthfully, Puffy was the only one that Theseus could trust, and by extension, Tommy as well. Her loyalty to prince Theseus who she raised had caused a ruckus for the latter parts of the story. The novel had mentioned that she had been beheaded after causing a failed rebellion for the youngest prince’s freedom, only to have her work be picked up by the Second Prince– the Prince of Song himself.

Fly high, Puffy—or not. Tommy will be leaving before that happens and he won’t be the reason for people’s execution. Puffy will be spared by Tommy’s choices. Really, he’s a martyr over here.

Tommy was planning on thinking of more plans though. There should be moves he could take, right?

Before he could come to a new plot, Tommy finds himself distracted by a golden ball rolling past his way. It looks legit. Something straight out of a bloody fairytale. It is rich.

Plan A is a go.

First things first though.

He is not going to be called Theseus.

“Prince Tommy,” the maid sighs. Tommy recognizes her as one of his nannies—Clara, of the house Moonlock. She was of noble blood, as were all of the other servants of the Royal Family. Tommy trusts this one because she’s young and new and she wasn’t one of the dumb fucks who wanted to steal his shit early on. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to give you chocolate—”

“But please!” Tommy whines, eyes wide. The crystal illusion placed in his blue orbs had created an effect that made his eyes look bigger and wider, and thus making him cuter. He knows his wiles. He’s a genius after all. Everything is within his calculations. “I was good today. I promise!” He insists.

Clara’s stern façade withers away rather easily before her shoulders fall. “Alright.” She says, looking left and right for anyone who might come across their hidden exchange. “But if anyone asks, you didn’t get it from me, okay?” She says, placing a finger in front of her lips in a hushing motion.

Tommy raises a fist in celebration as she pockets out a small bag of confections. “Thank you, Ms. Clara!” he exclaims in a loud whisper voice. “You’re my favorite!”

The maid raises her eyebrow, amused. “Even above Puffy?” She asks teasingly as she hands the boy the bag.

He opens it when he holds it, and he pops one of them in his mouth. Satisfied, he grins. “Clara,” he starts in an adoring voice– then in deadpan, he says: “let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” before running off in the opposite direction.

She gasps, running after him. He giggles as he runs ahead, making steep turns in the hallways so he could lose her easily.

“Prince Tommy!” She calls after him.

Prince Theseus, informally known by the Sapphire Palace’s courtiers as Prince Tommy, is now four years old. He’s well-known by the court members of the Sapphire Palace. He’s gained the respect of these courtiers because of his charms.

Believe it or not, Tommy does have charm.

People find him annoying at first, but his golden heart seeps through the seemingly spoiled façade as the time passes. That’s how the palace courtiers end up loving him.

Of course, Tommy had planned that. Theseus was an insignificant and unremarkable thing. Tommy, however, is all charisma. He’s lovable, and cute. He takes advantage of his baby talk, and short legs. He stumbles sometimes, which is what led many of them to finally remove the cursed hallway carpets. Those are dumb and stinky and sometimes he finds that the courtiers of the Sapphire palace don’t clean them at all.

“Prince Tommy!” Tommy giggles as he rushes across the halls of the Sapphire Palace. He goes through the hidden passageways that he’s long since figured out, straining his ears for any footsteps that could alarm him of a stealthy maid chasing after the youngest prince.

Eventually Tommy finds himself barefoot in the palace a lot of the times.

Tommy is loved, and spoiled, and incredibly smart.

He’d been curious of other languages when he was one and able to gain motor senses in his hands. Common speak was the same as the language they speak here, which doesn’t even have a name due to how widespread it is. That’s one difference he can take note of, at least. Common speak is a lot more common in this place, which is to say it is a lot more convenient for him because he doesn’t have to relearn an entirely new language or system of writing. Which is to say, easily he’d begun writing when he was one just to see if his hands could handle it.

“Puffy” Tommy wrote on a piece of paper. It was shaky at first due to his dumb lack of motor memory, but it is at least a bit legible. He got up from his seat and showed it to Puffy.

Who in turn had stars in her eyes when she saw that he was writing. Tommy was honestly a bit offended. Did she think that all the times they were effectively communicating before were just baby whims?

And so that even led Tommy to starting his education earlier than most children his age. Being an adult in a child’s body, he easily advanced through a lot of his own studies. That resulted in higher education at his young age upon her insistence, but Tommy is nothing if not persistent. He’s going to show them that he’s not supposed to be executed so easily, be it the command of the damned Imperial Prince or not.

He’s got three plans after all. If plans A and B have failed him (which is highly unlikely for reasons he will later tackle), he will surely do plan C with a breeze (not, but the extra education and the praise will probably make it easier.) It’s all better safe than sorry.

And so, four years later, Tommy is now very much familiar with the Sapphire Palace and its surrounding gardens. He’s also smart and sneaky enough to be well-acquainted with the secret passageways that not even the adventurous courtiers dare enter. The problem is that he still hasn’t gone far enough to know where exactly the boundaries are. He hasn’t encountered civilization beyond the damned palace, and based on what he remembers from the book, he’s as far away from the main palace as he could possibly be. He’s safe.

Eh, not like it matters. This place is huge and he doubts that these little feet could lead him far enough to go somewhere perilous.

“Prince!” The maid’s voice echoes through the hallways, but Tommy has long since gone.

Stealthily, he rushes to his bedroom. Upon arrival at the place, Tommy takes some bags from under his bed and carries it in his arms.

Inside these very heavy bags are pure gold trinkets and jewelry that can be found all over the palace. Tommy has them stashed in every hidden place in the palace.

Unfortunately, they were about to do a thorough cleaning of the Sapphire Palace, so Tommy had to find someplace else to stash them. Damn, he’s gone so far that they’re actually doing their jobs now. Serves them right. Fuck needless nepotism, they’re all here to freeload when in reality Tommy is the only one here with the right.

Their fucking audacity.

But at least they do their fair share of work, now that he’s established some bloody fucking respect in this house. Sure it made things like keeping his stash of gold around a bit hard, but it’s better than outright neglect. 

Fortunately, however, Tommy had found a place under the trees in the gardens. He digs them in locations only he could remember. It was very effective, in his opinion. He’s a genius, after all.

He leaves through the balcony, climbing down the tree and running to the palace garden where the trees were more abundant and thicker.

Tommy has been doing this for nearly a month now. This means only good things for him, because this means he’s stashed a lot of his goods and treasures away through the four years that he’s had proper mobility.

The boy stops at a tree, deciding that it will be nice for a new location of treasure digging.

He leans over to begin his dig, but he gets distracted by a sudden flash of light that shone to his eyes. Tommy pauses, and he turns towards it, seeing nothing but brightness in that direction.

Tommy looks down to his decided location, before looking back up at this bright thing.

In the end, his curiosity won over. He brings his heavy bag with him as he goes to explore. It’s a bit heavy, but it’s nothing that a strong boy like him can handle.

Without a doubt, Tommy believes that this is the best decision he’s ever made. This is solely because he has struck literal gold.

The thing that shone in his eye earlier? It was the reflection off of golden statues the size of his head. They were small figurines of muscular people seated on marble stools, staring at the sky longingly. 

Meanwhile, this golden child was staring at all these gold longingly.

Then he’s a bit skeptical. Are these things real gold?

Well, he can certainly check.

Tommy moves to the statues, specifically to a short one. He leans over, and bites it to see if it leaves a mark. He has to check if it’s real and if it’s not just some cheaply painted marble.

Admittedly, he struggles a little. He can’t reach much, which is why he’s biting the ankle of this random statue.

He’s so focused into his golden endeavors that he does not realize the looming shadow that approaches him from behind as he’s biting this golden figure of a man.

“What is this filthy bug doing in my palace?”

Tommy’s eyes widen, and he turns around quickly upon the sudden presence behind him.

In his shock, he dropped his bags of treasure. The gold and the jewels scatter at his feet with a rattle of metals against the ground and against each other. Tommy’s body has tensed, as he tries to hide the bite that he’s made on the heel of what he suspected was tawdry gold (which was in fact, genuine).

He looks up at the unexpected company, and sees a man with rose-tinted hair, tied loosely into a ponytail. The stranger is directly against the sun as he stands tall before Tommy. Not much of his features could be seen other than the—

The eyes.

His eyes are like rubies that glitter. Tommy would have said that it was beautiful, that it was astonishing. He would have said that those eyes were clearer than any gemstone that he’s ever seen in his lives. He would have said so many things, had he not recognized the sheer danger that those eyes held when it looks at Tommy like the young boy is a mere cretin that deserves to be executed for existing.

So, Tommy is frozen while those ruby eyes stare him down. His eyes are sharp– not as a compliment. It radiates fucking danger.

This goes on for what seems like hours before recognition seemed to finally flash in the older man’s eyes. “Ah, I recognize you.” He says monotonously as a smile is placed across his lips.

The smile is nothing close to comforting. It sends chills down Tommy’s spine as he looks up at the man who could very well kill him. It’s sinister, going along nicely with his sharp ruby eyes and shadowed expression due to being against the light.

“You are Theseus.”

The sound of Tommy’s name on the man’s lips sounds foreign– no, that was polite. Foreign indicates that it was simply strange and new. This one doesn’t run new. It sounds disgusting on the man’s tongue. Theseus sounds like filth when he speaks it.

On a normal day Tommy would bark back at him. “Technoblade is not any fucking better.” It is at the tip of his tongue held back only by whatever sliver of restraint and self-preservation he has.

Tommy could acknowledge what he says, but he doesn’t know if speaking would get him killed. In the Prince of Song, so many had been killed for much less. He won’t try his luck here. He could reply, or respond in any way, but he’s afraid to confirm the fact that he is Theseus—the very same Theseus who this man is destined to just execute for false, unproved allegations of murder.

He doesn’t speak, and he thinks that it’s a very wise choice on his part because the man before him is the Blood Prince. The Imperial Prince. Technoblade.

The boy watches helplessly as Technoblade’s eyes finally look away from Tommy and settles instead on the floor where the ringing of gems and precious metals had been heard just a moment ago. He sees how Technoblade regards it for a moment, and looks at something behind Tommy.

The man’s lips quirk a little. “An ankle-biter.” He says humorously to himself, “Of course. Achilles’ would be damned to meet you.” He jokes, but this only confuses an already internally-panicking Tommy who is seriously considering outright running away at this moment.

Technoblade crouches, eyes returning again to the small four-year-old’s eyes as if he was studying the poor child. “You’ve grown since I last saw you.” He comments.

Tommy considers that maybe Technoblade is considering slaughtering him right now for being bigger than he was last perceived. Fuck, when was he even last perceived? 

There’s a confused bit of relief when Technoblade goes up on his feet again, then that relief promptly turns into panic when Technoblade’s hands reach out towards him.

The boy does not dare move. Not even flinch.

Only for the man to carry him in two hands, as if he was weightless.

“Odd.” Technoblade hums. “You’re rather light.” He comments monotonously as he looks over the kid again. What, is he going to get berated for eating less? He’d assumed it’d be in Technoblade’s favor to have less able competition. His eyes rest on Tommy’s face once more as he asks his question. “Alright, kid, what are you doing in my palace?”

That’s where Tommy bluescreens. Oh, no wonder he doesn’t recognize this place. 

His palace?

Oh, he’s fucked up.

Chapter Text

To be fair, Tommy does not really know to what degree he’s messed up at. As it is, he is now seated across Technoblade who looks at Tommy with boredom–he’s pretty sure Technoblade hasn’t killed anyone for boredom’s sake. Better safe than sorry. Between them is a table full of sweets and milk and small savory snacks, with a teacup arrangement placed neatly before Tommy and Technoblade each. There is only Tommy and Technoblade with them in the room.

They continue this staring contest for a bit. It’s continuous silence. Tommy has no idea what to do other than smile politely at Technoblade.

“I didn’t know you couldn’t speak.” Technoblade comments blandly. He’s uninterested. Tommy’s not sure if he should just shut up and continue to be insignificant in the eyes of the bloody fucking prince or if he should answer and get it over with. His plan of living undetected and unnoticed has gone off the rails and become impossible.

That is unless he could just pass off as a kid about to piss himself from being glared at. Tommy’s pride can’t handle that much injury but he is seriously considering breaking out into tears.

Then he remembers that Technoblade isn’t above killing children for being a nuisance.

Tommy gulps a little at that.

“This is getting boring.”

Tommy’s mind screeches to a halt and suddenly his mouth runs off before his mind could start up again. “Tommy is able to speak!” Tommy says with a smile. Look polite. Look polite. Surely that isn’t too hard—

And oh fuck, he said Tommy, not Theseus. He’s messed up.

Technoblade finally looks interested again. Tommy doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not. “Oh,” is all he says for a long while. “Why’s it taken you this long to speak?”

The boy doesn’t know what to say, to be honest. “My nanny says that talking to unfamiliar people should be thought hard about.” Mentally, Tommy wishes Puffy good luck. He’s shifting the blame on her poor soul. Fly high Puffy, you were a great mom and a great scapegoat.

Pun intended.

“And who is your ‘nanny’?”

He hesitates on answering. Tommy could opt to save Puffy, right? He could say it was a nanny he doesn’t know. But then that could mean that the whole maid populace of the Sapphire Palace could get punished (or executed, he’s setting the bar low for his bloody brother).

Then he decides that maybe Puffy will survive. She's a badass. If anything, she could lead a maid rebellion with all this royal mistreatment going on. “Captain Puffy!” He answers gleefully, being as naïve as he can possibly be.

His brother does not snarl, nor does he look angry or vindictive. Instead, he’s smiling, as if he found that answer humorous. “Ah, I suppose that makes sense for Puffy to say that.” He comments instead. “When she said she’d resigned to raise a kid, I assumed it’d been for her own kids.” The ‘not you’ goes unsaid. Tommy feels a pang. That had to be some sort of backhanded insult right? The type where he had to read between the lines to get? The typical political noblesse-fuck-you language?

Tommy and Technoblade continue to sit in silence. How’s Tommy supposed to take that? Hell, he barely even remembers that Puffy had kids of her own. On the bright side, Puffy will not be flying high. 

“Are these confections not to your taste, Theseus?” Technoblade asks. “I had asked them to serve things that kids normally like.” Again, there is that carelessly impulsive dangerous glint to Technoblade’s eyes as he speaks. “I suppose I should have them replaced.”

Oh, he does not like the implications of that. This is definitely a double-meaning thing. Self-interest or not, Tommy would hate to have innocent fucking lives be ruined because of some slip-of-tongue. The blood of those poor fellows who were ordered to make sweets might as well be on his hands.

Tommy immediately takes a fork, stabs it into anything small and edible, and stuffs it into his mouth. “Mmm!” He says with a cheerful tone, barely able to taste the confections. It tastes like sand in his mouth– not that he has eaten sand. Ever. Never ever has. No. “Tasty!” Tommy continues chewing, eyes crinkling at the corners in the best disguise ever– cute glee.

Technoblade (thankfully) looks to be satisfied. No royal chefs will be murdered on his watch.

“Captain Puffy.” He says out loud, pondering Tommy’s words. “She’s told you of her past occupation then I suppose?”

The boy hums and nods as he swings his feet, swallowing the sweets. It was true. He’d asked before why some of the maids had called her Captain despite fully knowing the reason why. He has credibility.

Thinking he was in the clear, he takes a fork-full of cake. This time he manages to actually taste it, and tot he credit of the royal chefs that were likely almost beheaded, it is actually good.

As Tommy eats his share of desserts, Technoblade watches carefully. It is getting painfully difficult to swallow the stuff he’s shoving into his mouth while the bloody prince has his eyes on him. 

“And who is this ‘Tommy’?”

Tommy chokes a bit on the piece of cake he was eating when he was asked that. He drinks milk to clear his throat. He does not dare meet Technoblade eyes while he clears his throat.

Secretly he might be hoping that the piece of cake kills him before his own brother does. Maybe that’d be less painful.

It won’t be Puffy flying high today, rather the odds are against Tommy’s favor and has decided that maybe it’s easier to send a four-year-old child flying instead.

Once his throat is clear, he beams. “I’m Tommy!” He declares cheerfully, pretending to be unaware of this stupidly dire situation that he’s in. “It’s my nickname!”

Technoblade blinks slowly. God, he’s like some sort of slow fucking cat or something. “Were people so dissatisfied with your name.” Technoblade then starts, and there is a dangerous glint in his ruby gem eyes as he regards Tommy, “that they’ve settled to call you a commoner’s name instead?”

His heart sinks deep into his stomach, likely joining the cake in a pool of acid. Ugh, this is horrible. “N-Nope!” Shit, a stutter slipped. “It’s a nickname for me, because The-se-us was hard to pronounce when I started speaking.” He lies. 

Tommy mentally pumps his fist. He’s such a good liar. Fuck yeah.

Technoblade raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the answer, and not pissed off (yet his mind supplies). “You’re rather eloquent for a boy who finds Theseus hard to pronounce.” He remarks, sounding awfully close to doubt. That’s no good.

“I spoke reeaaally early!” Tommy exaggerates, trying to hide the shake of his hands with big movements. “I started formal education when I was two years old.” He can’t help but brag. Surely that could mean that he’d second-guess murdering him if he found out that he’s a smart prince who is not useless and wimpy.

Okay, less sure right now because Tommy has somehow caused the room to be even more quiet than it had been before they’d begun speaking. Technoblade seems more present in the room now, which was odd for Tommy. Rather than the aloof air he was giving a while ago, it seemed like the man was now fully there.

Again, Tommy does not know if these things were good things to have considering Technoblade is an enigma even to his own courtiers.

Tommy doesn’t dare break the silence. He doesn’t want to disturb any thoughts of his just in case it’s anything good or anything that considers not publicly or privately executing him.

Fortunately (to some extent), the silence is broken by Technoblade.

“Do you know who I am, Theseus?” Technoblade asks slowly.

Tommy really, really considers saying no. He considers it for many reasons: he could have deniability and pretend to be dumb—but no he can’t do that because he’s already foolishly bragged that he’s a genius. He can pretend to be a dense genius maybe? But that’s going to be a disgrace for royalty.

There’s also the fact that Tommy’s been acting impudent for a child who has just basically declared himself a genius for starting formal education at two years old. Tommy acting all childish in front of the man who might as well have been the emperor for the entirety of Tommy’s life in the empire could be a crime punishable by death. 

Shit, he’s contradicting himself isn’t he?

Who is he kidding? He’s FOUR YEARS OLD. He can have deniability, right?

“You must be thinking real hard.” Technoblade breaks Tommy out of his internal dialogue.

“The Imperial Prince!” he declares with pride, and for plus points he adds a knowing grin and a few more words. “I learned about you when I was two!” He brags. That’s a lie considering that Tommy has known who he was ever since he was a year old and able to see pictures, but really, who’s counting? What’s he going to do, ask Puffy herself? Fuck no. Even then he still wouldn’t have recognized such a bitch.

Then he realizes the unimpressed look on Technoblade’s face.

And that’s it.

He’s dead.

He’s gone.

He’s got to find a way to salvage this. How did he get the intrigue of this man earlier? Based on his interaction, he has been amused more than pissed off. He was amused that he bit at gold! He was also amused when Tommy had made a fool of himself by talking about himself in third person.  There has to be something, right? Any form of endearment that William, the favorite brother who is yet to arrive, had used for Technoblade before? 

So there is a clear formula to this. “And!” he declares, “Your name is Technoblade!” he tests, adding an accent, making his tongue heavier and stiffer as he declares the name of the fucker who is so very very close to declaring him dead and gone.

Still no reaction. Not a single twitch in that irritating face. Fuck. Okay, he’s going to have to lower his pride a little bit if what he’s thinking is right.

Ah, right, a flashback or something.

“Aand!” Tommy adds in similar cheer, acting unfazed by Technoblade nonchalance. “You are my big brother! The bestest! The strongest! Brotherblade!” He finally exclaims, channeling all his charm and appeal into sucking up to his older brother with endearing adjectives that makes no sense. Primes above, Brotherblade. Couldn’t he do better than this? Still, he keeps a cocky facade, confident with the fact that this should be the right answer. This was what won William over to Technoblade the second time. A call back to the past. A little reminiscent thing to keep them going positive.

Basically brute-forcing that family dynamic into his head like a reverse-killswitch of “please do not fucking murder me I just called you my brother”.

It was a mundane ending to the meeting, but Tommy was sent back to the Sapphire palace carried by one of the royal guards. Upon his arrival, Puffy had recognized the poor confused man who had been sent to collect the internally nervous wreck that is Tommy.

He’s green, for one. Green scales on his skin and cheeks and creeping around from the nape of his neck down to his arms. The sclera of his eyes are black and dark contrasting with bright green irises and white pupils. He is clad in the uniform of an Imperial Guard. 

Technoblade had rung a bell earlier today, and the man had entered the tea room. He had looked shocked, but somehow he recognized Tommy. 

“Bring him back to his palace.” Technoblade had declared, not uttering another word to Tommy. That was all he said before he stood and left the room without any other remark. Just an order.

“Sam?” Puffy rushes over the guard who had approached the Sapphire palace grounds, the fact that she recognizes him makes him important. Tommy makes sure to remember the guard as Sam. He might be important in the future. “Tommy!?” There is disbelief and relief on Puffy’s face when she recognizes the child the man was holding.

Only then did Tommy realize that the maids were a mess everywhere, scattered around as if they were looking for something. Most of them had paused with Puffy’s shout of his name, and had turned away from wherever they were searching to watch them.

Puffy takes Tommy from Sam’s arms and cradles the boy. She looks up at the man with curiosity. “How-?”

“I’ve been told by the Imperial Prince that he would like to meet prince Theseus again.” He announces, serving also as an answer to whatever Puffy had said, and as a revelation to Tommy who is already dizzy with nervousness and anxiety and a barely missed death sentence.

“I’m sorry?” Puffy asks, not processing the words Sam had just spoken. “W-What do you mean again?” She chuckles nervously, clutching at Tommy tighter. Tommy would complain, but he really needs the hug right now. 

He’s not sure if the one shaking is him or Puffy. Either way, Tommy is just glad to be out of danger.

Sam, to his credit, does not comment on the shivering of either of them who clutch at each other. Tommy buries his face in Puffy’s hair, trying to hide the fact that his eyes are watering in both fear and relief. “Look, Puffy, the kid was alone in the room with the prince talking over tea and biscuits and cake. I had no idea he was even on palace grounds until the Prince called for me.”

She holds Tommy tighter, if that were any possible.

Tommy appreciates the company the very least. He’d like a hug before he ultimately invites death to enter through his fucking door.

Chapter Text

Puffy walks alongside Tommy on the way to the palace. There was no one waiting beside the doors, no ladies in waiting, no guards save for a few by the entrance of the palace. The insides were nearly desolate save for a few who would clean the place.

Tommy thinks that it’s rather odd, because if these were the royal grounds, then why are there so few people running the household? There are the dukes, running their own things in their own duchies, sure, but how about the palace scribes? Auditors? Secretaries? Heads?

The thing is, this isn't counted as solely a household. This is a palace where affairs of the country is run, yet there are barely any officials to make any of the running happen.

He decides not to leave it to assumption. Tommy tugs on Puffy’s hand, prompting her to look down to pay attention to Tommy.

“Puffy,” He calls in a small, childish voice. “Why aren’t there many people around here?” He asks.

“Well, there are? The maids are—”

He shakes his head. “No!” Tommy again looks at the surroundings, a confused expression still clear on his face. “I mean, where are the important people?” he asks, looking over those who he knew were passing maids holding linens, attending to flowers. He doesn’t know where the people he was expecting were. “The people who are important to the big guy. The scribes! Auditors! Courtiers for the treasury!”

That was why he dressed up, actually. He’d expected to meet potentially impressionable higher ups that he could get on his side in the occasion that his murderous brother suddenly felt like publicly executing a prince who is very easily framed (not that he will be. He knows what happens. He will not be framed, not if he can help it. He’ll have to frame someone else if he has to. Every man for himself down here in hell.)

Puffy looks down at him, before looking around. “Ah, right, you don’t know how the Emerald Palace works do you?” She asks. Tommy shakes his head. “Well, not a lot of business goes around here, save for one vital person.” She says. “This place used to be brimming with life and people but…” She trails off. “Anyway, the people you’re describing all work in the capital now, not in royal grounds.”

That’s odd. He distinctly remembers that in Prince of Song, there would be so many people around working like bees in this place. Everyone worked tirelessly to do what they had to do with as much haste as they could ever afford. 

It clicks, just a little. Prince of Song begins in a time of peril for the Empire, which is probably when the Royal Grounds opened its gates to the people of the Capital. Right now, it’s early into the timeline and maybe those dilemmas haven't started happening yet. Well, props for continuity he guesses.

He could help out a lot with the prevention, if ever.

Not that he will. He’s changing this story, damn it. If he can change how people address him, he damn well can change his future– fuck being involved. He’s going to live an easy farm life with so many cows and women and zero deaths.

The two of them come to a stop before a large door. Tommy thinks it’s rather pretentious. There’s no reason for a door to be this big or this tall. 

This is dumb.

He squints, seeing the frame glint in the slight shift of light. It’s golden too. What an obnoxious prick.

Puffy waits in front of the door, not making much of a move in making their presence known to whatever or whoever is beyond this gaudy, gold rimmed door. Tommy waits as well. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing here.

That guard before that had escorted Tommy back to the Sapphire Palace had said it, sure, but based on whatever nonsense ‘first meeting’ he and the pompous pig prince had, Tommy had no reason to intrigue Technoblade. He gave simple answers that resulted in mundane and unnecessarily tense responses.

(He blames it on Royal Language Etiquette. That shit is dumb too. Whatever happened to conciseness? Which princely fuck decided that flowery words and poetry is a better medium of discussing war or politics?)

There was not as much as a creak in the large doors as it swings outwards slowly. Tommy was, thankfully, not at all shocked at seeing two people leaving through the doors. It was a man clad mostly in gold. He stands tall and broad, looking just as gaudy as the godawful doors that he came out from. His skin shimmered with a luminescent glitter, something green in some angles and something gold in others– damn, pick a color already. 

The man’s eyes were of a bright green, like emeralds, glittering almost like Tommy’s own but with a more human sheen to it rather than looking like literal gems. His hair was a dark brown, but honestly Tommy only really knew that it was brown because of his eyebrows– otherwise he wouldn’t know if he were bald or not. The man had his hair covered in a – guess the color? Golden cloth over his head with blue and green stripes at the linings of it. 

Did Tommy fail to mention that he was big? Like, not just tall lanky asshole big, but huge. Goddamn biceps the size of Tommy’s entire head. What the fuck? Is that a man? Is this allowed? He’s larger than Technoblade (the prick) and he’s pretty sure his genetics having that audacity should have him beheaded. 

Aforementioned big man pauses as he is on his way out, with the door already nearly closed behind him.

As Tommy studies his worth based on his stance and his clothing, which honestly says a lot considering the fact that the rings on his fingers easily outweigh Tommy’s entire fucking thigh, the man stares back. He is, for some reason, just as dumbfounded as Tommy himself.

It takes the man a single glance at Puffy before his eyes flick back towards Tommy with recognition glimmering in his eyes. Thankfully, he is the first to speak.

“OH! Uh, apologies for my insolence, your Royal Highness.” He bows his head respectfully while rushing to place four fingers and one folded thumb down to the flat of his chest on the side where his heart lies. “Glory forever to the Blood of the Antarctic Empire.” It is the Empire’s bow, one used when a person of lower birth greets someone higher than them. The amount of fingers is the degree of separation one has. He vaguely recalls a different version of that greeting when it isn’t directed to royal blood though. Maybe he needs to recall before he fucks it up sometime in the future. “I hadn’t recognized you. Sorry– Err, forgive me.”

Tommy blinks. “It's no matter, Sir.” He replies, just as he had practiced in his head when he imagined meeting a famous person. “I understand.” He hadn’t taken a moment of hesitance to reply.  

“I am very much grateful for your generosity, your Royal Highness.” He says, and lowering his hand and straightening his head again—well, as straight he could get it without having to look like he’s sneering at the young Prince. It’s difficult to be unimposing when he’s the size of the fucking continent. He turns his head slightly towards his company and remains to be silent for a moment. Is he, like, intimidating Puffy or something? It feels like a stare-down.

Well, they certainly know each other because Puffy is staring back at him with the same amount of mixed emotions.

Quite frankly, Tommy thinks it’s rather awkward. He does not recognize who he is, and he does hope that if he’s important that he’s given a right first impression of himself.

He would have spoken up had another moment passed, but finally a conversation strikes.

Not between himself and this stranger, no, rather between a mother and a son.

“Foolish.”

Tommy snaps his head at Puffy’s words. Pause. What? Did Puffy just outright fucking insult the guy?

“Pops—I-I mean Captai—Lady Puffy!” He stutters, and the image of an intimidating man shatters into pieces. 

And damn if Tommy’s view of him didn’t go any warmer than earlier. He’s an awkward little bean despite being maybe as big as fucking atlas. Guy’s biceps could lift the city.

Puffy, to her credit, does not laugh at the greeting. She does sound humored as she acknowledges him though. “Foolish, there’s no need to be formal. You're my kid after all.” She grins, and that’s the type of grin Tommy recognizes as her being ready to spill embarrassing facts for whatever poor thing she’s targeted. “You act as if I wasn’t the one to soothe you while you cried over a—”

She’s cut off by a groan coming from what was once an intimidating figure, who had his hands likely covering his already veiled face in embarrassment. “Not your kid.” He sighs. “Ward. I was your ward. And please, not in front of his Royal Highness—”

“Oh it's fine.” Puffy rolls her eyes. “Surely you don’t mind, do you, Prince Tommy?”

“I don't mind. You seem like an alright fella.” He agrees with a grin. “But I also don't want you to cause discomfort for…” Tommy trails off intentionally, eyes widening to feign childish, belated realization before he turns to the newcomer. “For Sir..?” He tilts his head curiously.

“Oh, apologies I forgot to introduce myself, yeah, uh, I am known as Foolish.”

Tommy doesn’t comment on how odd of a name it was, because his brother’s name is Technoblade (even if everyone knows that’s not his real name) so he has no room to judge. Though it’s… quite an odd choice of a name. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” The man says lightheartedly. “Why’s his name like that? Well, I quite like it. Makes for an excellent conversation starter.” Foolish grins, and primes damn is that a golden canine? Maybe the name does fit the bearer. “Sorry for uh, speaking out of turn.”

“It’s alright, Sir.” Tommy grins. “We can keep this hush hush between ourselves, a friend of Lady Puffy is a friend of mine!”

And that’s when Tommy knew he got the jackpot. 

Leaning a bit forward, a clear show of interest. The humor and lightness in his voice is real, and that’s on a man who is easily fooled and flustered. Hell, his name is Foolish for fuck's sake!

Even so, his stature does not waver, showing his reign on power. This is a powerful man, if he’s come from the throne room with a lone audience of the Imperial Prince, which makes Tommy wonder how such a powerful man was unable to help his mother in a rebellion.

No matter. There won’t be a rebellion where he’s concerned.

Another man exits from the door, this time wearing the royal guard uniform. He is a man with green hair and neon eyes all the way to the sclera. It’s Sam, Tommy recognizes.

“Your Royal Highness, your Grace, Lady Puffy.” He greets, and Tommy only nods to grant him permission to continue. “The Imperial Prince requests the presence of Lady Puffy… alone.”

Puffy looks a bit confused, but she takes it in stride. “Foolish, kiddo, can you please accompany Prince Tommy for now?”

Foolish nods. “Course!” Foolish beams, and turns his attention towards Tommy. “If his Royal Highness will allow me.”

“I do not mind.”

“And that’s settled!” Puffy says in a cheerful tone, now entering after Sam who had opened the door for her. “I’ll be back quick.” She winks at Tommy before the door closes.

Well.

Now what?

Silence. That’s all. It’s just awkward silence between a powerless, charming, child prince, and a powerful, gap moe, veiled… whatever he is. Actually, maybe Tommy can ask that? Break the ice a little.

“Who are you?” Tommy does ask.

To which Foolish had looked back down towards the child in what Tommy could only assume as shock. “I, well, my name is Foolish, your Highness.”

“Oh, yeah I know your name is Foolish.” Tommy nods. “Foolish is a fun choice of name, by the way.” He can’t help but comment. He’s shooting his shot in the dark and he doesn’t really know what he’s doing especially now that he’s faced with a man who seemed just as bewildered as Tommy– he’s probably lugging a lifetime’s expense worth of gold on his pinky alone, but Tommy is just hoping for the best to be honest. Really, what impact will a side character interacting with a side character do anyway? “What I mean to ask is who are you in the kingdom? What are you doing here?” He asks, trying his best to sound innocently curious despite the way he’s questioning the man.

The man tilts his head curiously, and the only way Tommy knows that he did do that is because of the shift in the cloth that veils his face.

“Oh, I’m the current Duke of the Northern region of the Empire.”

Tommy blinks. Oh, well. Connections are good. This could bode well for him if he’s got this guy as a permanent friend. “Oh! Isn’t it cold there?” Tommy asks like he doesn’t already know for certain that it’s the place where summer and spring lasts the longest.

“Nah, on the contrary, it’s one of the warmest places in the Empire.” Foolish replies. “Our spring season is also the best among the rest of the duchies, second of course to the Empire’s capital.” Tommy already knew that, but Tommy knows how happy people tend to become when they explain things to a child.

“That’s cool!” Tommy says. “Tell me more about it?” Again, the boy already knows, but he is prepared to indulge in pleasant conversation (at least, pleasant for the other party).

Tommy remembers vaguely why he kept reading that awfully dragging and inconsistent book, The Prince of Song. It was for its mind-boggling politics that the author did a real good job gaslighting him that it made sense to run. It would have made sense if specific realistic issues were non-existent or dealt with using foreign methods bordering on inhumane in his humble opinion. But, it works–in theory that is.

(Tommy isn’t known to be very smart, but he does appreciate it when people put some thought into their fiction.)

(Honestly it makes him feel a bit smart for getting it too.)

Tommy knows a lot about the Empire. Not only is it something he was forced to learn due to Puffy’s call for his early education, nor is it only because of the cursed book, but it’s also something he needs to know if he’s going to be escaping. He certainly cannot reside in the capital, where the people may know him personally and could bring him easily to the Palace.

Everyone, the whole world, knows that the Empire is the most powerful place in the globe. It takes up roughly a third of the world, all within the South, while the rest of the kingdoms scramble over what’s left of the world before the Empire takes that lot as well.

The Empire is split into five large regions, with the largest of it all being the Capitol, the Central Empire. This is where the business centers, population density in this region is the highest among the duchies, as well as where the Embassies are located for the other countries who are in a peaceful agreement with the Antarctic.

Other than the capitol that takes up around fifty percent of the Empire’s total landmass, the rest of the Empire is split into four Dukedoms, or as the people would rather call it, the Duchies.

The Southern Duchy is rich as fuck, but also cold as fuck. So that’s a no go for him considering he’s not exactly got the constitution to survive there. It’s also where William hailed from because some rich asshole thought about emotional blackmail to get his ass on the throne.

The Eastern Duchy has got good greenery and agriculture, and he could survive as a farmer maybe, but unfortunately it’s the bloody prince’s favorite Duchy and so Tommy might as well give Technoblade his head on a silver platter after a little field trip.

The West is the youngest piece of the Empire, and Tommy does not want to go to a place where people would very much like to take his head for having the same bloodline as Technoblade, the man who conquered that region in the first place.

Last but not the least, there is the Northern Duchy, closest to the equator of the globe and with mixed climates and biomes. He heard there’s a desert somewhere there. Somewhere in the middle are very tropical. Many people prefer it there for the warmth and for the seaside view. The ruling Duke is known publicly as the duke Foolish, (and quite frankly Tommy is unsure where all these names are coming from. Are they titles? Aliases? What is the point of all of this?) and is known for spearheading a lot of the modernization of architecture all over the Empire.

And he currently is pandering hard to the Duke of the North by giving the man an opportunity to mansplain politics to Tommy who already knows his shit, so honestly he zones out when Foolish starts talking about some of his builds.

His only thought is that Foolish could do with a lot more cobblestone in his builds.

Not an hour later, the door opened revealing Sam yet again. By then, Tommy had already established a (hopefully) positive relationship with Foolish (who insisted on being called Foolish, because the Sir was bothering him for some reason– technically Tommy outranks him, but it’s so odd not being wanted to suck up to someone physically older).

Tommy looks up at Sam, curious as to what brings him to the other side of the door that’s (protecting) separating himself from his murderous and bloodthirsty older brother. Internally, Tommy wonders if he could manipulate this guy into turning against Technoblade during Tommy’s timely demise.

“Your Highness, the Imperial Prince Technoblade requests your presence.” He greets with the Empire’s bow.

He nods his head then turns to Foolish with a smile. He bows his head slightly as Foolish does the weird Empire courtesy thing. “See you later, Foosh!” He says with a beam, and he watches Foolish grin at the sound of the nickname.

“See ya, your Highness!” He replies giddily despite Tommy insisting to be called Tommy the same way Foolish insisted to be called Foolish. Hypocrite.

Tommy walks ahead, with Sir Sam tailing after him. The older man opens the door for him and presents the prince to the man on a throne, in a courtroom that is as obnoxious and gaudy as the door that hid Tommy from it. It is ridiculously long as well, with Tommy having troubles with traversing over dumb long rugs that lead all the way to the throne.

He has to admit, of course. Tommy knows he looks cool and princely before an imaginary audience consisting of one hundred imaginary people and three actual humans (with one of them being less human for, cough, you know, KILLING HIS OWN BROTHER). Tommy has his shoulders stretched, back straight, head held up evenly, and looking as graceful as a prince should.

What ruins the moment of course is the stupid, gaudy rug.

Tommy’s foot catches on a fold on the rug, and this causes him to stumble.

The guard behind him is not close enough to catch him, and Puffy is a long way ahead of him, right in front of the throne that is just mocking him at every waking hour of his day.

So, having no one to catch him, Tommy stumbles, then falls, then lands on his front. Luckily, he does not land on his face. He’s quick enough to catch himself at least.

And here he is, making an absolute fool of himself.

The whole room is quiet, which isn’t much of a feat considering that this ridiculously large space has only three other people occupying it.

Tommy brings himself up before Sam could make a move to help him up.

“Are you alright, your Highness?” He asks, clearly concerned over a prince who had disgraced himself over his trigger-happy brother.

“I am alright! Sorry. I missed the crease on the rug!” He tries his best to say it lightheartedly, despite being at the verge of a full-out breakdown for sabotaging his own image.

Plan C is dumb anyway. Tommy thinks that he should have enough riches stocked for his escape.

Tommy dusts himself, and looks up ahead for the reaction of his brother—

Who does nothing? It’s the usual blank look on his face while he sits straight on his throne. Tommy knows that Technoblade is present mentally, though, because his eyes are zeroed in on his and Tommy could see unreadable thoughts behind those red things. It would have frightened him more if Tommy was a wimp.

But he’s not Theseus. He’s not a wimp. He’s a bloody prince and he is going to own that title.

Tommy continues walking on his own, until finally arriving beside Puffy.

And it’s quiet again.

Fucking hell. Tommy would absolutely love to break this silence if it didn’t mean that it would cost him his head. Life over pride, Life over Pride. Life. Over. Pride. 

“Theseus.”

Tommy almost didn’t recognize the name at all.

“Brother!” He greets back cheerfully while doing the Empire's bow. Four fingers, and one folded thumb placed over his chest.

“What made you fall earlier.” It wasn’t a question, really, and more of a demand. Tommy is irritated at how Technoblade has to ask despite clearly witnessing it. Doesn’t he have eyes? What an arrogant pig bastard.

Tommy answers, of course, because he doesn’t want his head on a golden pike. “I tripped over a crease on the rug.” He answers. For extra childish points, he points at the very vague direction of where he tripped. “Right over there.”

He only hums. Tommy feels the urge to shut him up with a quip. 

Technoblade crosses his legs and moves into a more relaxed position on his seat. “Have you been well, child?”

He finds that extremely patronizing, being called ‘child’. He is one, clearly, but what right does this pompous pig bastard have in calling him ‘child’? Tommy could taste the condescending tone all the way where he stands, which is a considerable distance from Technoblade to be fair.

As always, he sucks it up. Head on a pike. No head on a pike. Control your tongue you sod.

“Yes, brother!” he answers happily. So, like the child he is, he changes the topic. “I had a good meal earlier. Have you eaten yet?”

…

And another thing. Tommy really dislikes how it takes Technoblade a while to answer. It feels like Tommy is being scrutinized at every exchange or at every turn of words. Not only that, but it’s wasting his time. If he’s going to take this long, then why even ask for this dumb little meeting? Have a little consideration, prick.

“No. I suppose not.” He answers.

Before Tommy could get a word in, Technoblade’s eyes lazily shifts to Puffy who is standing beside Tommy. Despite the fear that anyone would usually feel upon the attention of the Blood Prince, Puffy seems… oddly at ease. 

Okay, that’s not the dynamic he recognizes in Prince of Song.

“I haven’t been able to pay attention to my youngest sibling because I have been focusin’ on runnin’ the Empire.” Technoblade starts. Tommy personally thinks that it’s a really badly made excuse for abandoning him. “Yet before me, Theseus has grown into a very healthy child.” Yeah, shut it. No need for hospitality for a kid who lives in a different palace from you and has plans to leave. Not to mention he commented on how light he was– how fucking rude. “You’ve done well raising him.” Technoblade comments, and Tommy is certain that it’s out of necessity rather than sincerity.

“Prince Theseus is a very smart and kind child.” Puffy says with unhindered pride. “I didn’t need to do much. He is very capable on his own.” Tommy resists the urge to snort. Yeah, no, he could beg to differ. Tommy might have been capable but by no means did he make it easy for all the lazy fucks he’d had to train in the Sapphire Palace.

Technoblade looks as if he’s carefully considering her words. “That credit belongs to you, still.”

Oh, fuck him. Compliment Tommy for once. He has some credit too for holding back on attempting an assassination on this political pig. He's grown up plenty on his own.

“Out of gratitude, you are relieved of your duties as Head Maid of the Sapphire Palace and are awarded with your duty to serve as Captain of the Royal Navy.”

Tommy’s heart stops at that for a moment.

Excuse him.

Has he been sold out?

Trying his best to hide his accusatory expression, Tommy looks at Puffy with wide eyes. He’s in disbelief. If Technoblade had any tone, he would have believed that he was joking.

And he would have believed it, truly, because Puffy had a humored expression on her face.

“Excuse me, your Imperial Highness, but is that a request or an order?”

“Up to you.” He shrugs nonchalantly, which is a jarring sight on Tommy’s part. Why is he so casual? “It’s your job we’re talking of here.”

Puffy crossed her arms with a grin on her face. Tommy feels nervous, but Technoblade doesn’t seem to mind at all for some reason?

She doesn’t seem to understand the severity of the issues at the moment. Technoblade will kill her one day, be it because of Theseus’ execution or the effect of Wilbur’s interference. Puffy having the audacity to confront Technoblade like this is, to be frank, frightening as fuck.

“Do I have to make a decision now?”

“You act like you don’t know me.”

Puffy laughs. “Yeah, yeah. You despise stalling.” The woman rolls her eyes. “Alright, you grouch!” She says with a grin. Instead of answering, however, she turns to Tommy with a smile. The woman goes lower, now on one knee, and looks at Tommy at eye-level.

Tommy is just frozen in his position. What does this mean? What is all of this implying?

Maybe this woman is just insane. This could be the reason why she dies in the novel, and not solely because of Theseus. She could be stepping on all the boundaries of Technoblade and got tired, had enough, held a revolution thinking she’d be spared. He is terrified of her audacity, to be honest.

“Tommy, I’m going to leave this decision to you now.”

“What?” It was just confusion over everything. He’s not quite caught up.

Puffy looks amused, but there’s also this look that a parent has when handing their child some sort of responsibility. She looks at him like he’s graduated and she’s a nostalgic parent. “As you’ve heard, and I know you’re perceptive Tommy, but I’ve been given an option to return to my duties in the Navy. How do you feel about that?” 

Tommy frowns.

They’ve spoken about this once, about how Puffy was a soldier of the naval forces before, a Captain, even. Directly under the highest command. He had expressed his awe about that, and he’d ask her why’d she drop such a task for Tommy. She said that it was a bit hard to explain, and Tommy let it be. After all, he wouldn’t be there in the royal palace for long enough for it to matter. He would be leaving, and whatever job she had would be returned to her after losing the ‘nanny’ title.

“I’m grown up, Lady Puffy!” Tommy says, lowering his voice so it can only (hopefully) be heard between them. “I’d be okay with either decision you make.” He insists. If anything, it would make escape easier if there were less eyes on him.

She tilts her head, though, looking at Tommy straight in the eyes. The woman nods and turns to the Imperial Prince who seemed disinterested in their little exchange. She stands, and she bows her head, placing four fingers on her chest.

“I accept the duty that Your Imperial Highness has given me.” Puffy says.

Tommy is honestly surprised, despite knowing that she wouldn’t refuse this offer. He doesn’t see much of her undying, motherly loyalty that was described in the novel. If anything, it seemed to him that she was simply handing off the Nanny Title. He’s too shocked by how easy it seemed for her to choose to be able to remember that the Captain Puffy in the novel had been by Theseus’ side for all fourteen years, while she’d only raised this kid for four.

Later on, he would be wondering how much he’s already changed.

“Of course.” Technoblade hums, disinterested despite his seemingly generous script. “It has always been yours. If it were up to me, it would have never been rescinded at all.” Technoblade's gaze shifts to Tommy, studying him.

Tommy feels a chill down his spine. He could read between the lines. Technoblade had thought that Puffy taking the years off of her duty as captain wasn't worth it if it meant it would be spent raising Tommy.

Fucking prick. Tommy's heart simmers in frustration. This is a target against him, clearly. This is meant to isolate him. 

“Will you be requiring time to transition between your roles?”

“A bit. I miss my children.”

And she has her own kids.

Tommy's anger cools into guilt. She has kids. Not just Tommy. He glances at Puffy who looks… relieved, if anything. 

Of course. Yeah, that makes sense. Tommy isn't the only child in her eyes now. 

He took those years away from her kids.

Still, she manages to care for him anyway. “A new maid should be reassigned to stay by Prince Theseus’ side.” Puffy says with an easy smile, lighter and brighter than he recalls. 

Does the idea of leaving him take away that much weight? “Do you mind if I pick?”

“Not at all. I don’t suppose it matters to me.” Technoblade says. “However, from now on I will be personally looking after the prince’s well-being.”

Oh, that makes sense-- wait.

What.

The eldest prince’s ruby eyes slowly shifted to stare right through Tommy’s sapphire. Both eyes glitter under the light, a sign of their noble lineage.

Tommy feels another chill run down his spine as the eldest prince’ lips curled into a smirk, subtle and mean.

Oh gods, just ignore me. Tommy thinks to himself, staring back at his brother. In his nervousness, he smiles back. I don’t understand. Why are you paying attention now? That gold statue is nothing!

“From now on, Prince Theseus, youngest of the Empire’s Royal Family, is to be truly treated as the Prince.”

And he declares that with so much confidence.

You killed me! You killed me! Just leave me be and you nor I get hurt!

Tommy smiles, with his teeth out and eyes glittering (due to his heritage, due to tears, due to faux excitement? Even he does not know.), and he bows with four fingers flat on his chest. “I am very excited to hang around with the bestest brother in the world!” He says, planned words spilling through his lips in an easy lie.

Children’s lies are easier to believe. That’s to his advantage.

Technoblade pushes himself against the chair, and he sits up. His eyes meets Tommy's, and there is something amused in those eyes. Something evil. 

It occurs to Tommy that children are easier to kill without a decent guardian. This is all to Technoblade's advantage, if he wants to get rid of Tommy for some cruel and arbitrary fucking reason.

Oh, he is mega-fucked.