Chapter Text
Chilchuck was too old for this crap. He had three daughters - daughters - that were all some brand of crazy when it came to relationships. Flertom was a mindless flirt and had to be kept strategically away from Senshi, Puckpatti only ever seemed to be interested in adrenaline chaser, and Meijack was starting to look too much like himself for his liking (why couldn’t she spare some of her disinterest with her sisters?)
He thought he was free from this when Falin formally declined Shuro’s proposal, and then she jumped immediately into a weird six-month will-they, won’t-they stint with Marcille. Thank goodness for her directness and disregard for the thoughts of ‘will she reject me’ - like she ever would, Marcille’s crush on her was plainly obvious even when their party was first formed. Then there was the weird vibes with him and Senshi, which they sorted out like proper adults through sex and a decision to stay casual but friendly. And then there was all the drama with Namari’s wedding to Kiki, where Tansu almost killed Namari just for her general clumsiness in their relationship.
“Kabru, you should eat more!”
“I think I’m good.”
“Senshi, can we get a little more of the roast? And some of the potatoes as well.”
“Really Laios, I can feed myself.”
“Doubtful. Eat up!”
Of course, Chilchuck knew that this was going to be a problem the moment he noticed Kabru all but glowering at his palms after one of Laios’ early-rule feasts, bright red in the face, mumbling to himself, and slumping into a heap swearing softly. Laios had been in peak weirdness form, rambling about some monster or other with excessive enthusiasm considering how drunk he was that night, and when Kabru returned to the room, he pointedly avoided Laios at every opportunity. That it had taken almost two years for this to become a potential problem was nothing short of a miracle; a man with a weaker moral backbone than Kabru would have caved instantly. Laios was attractive for a tallman, and, as much as he would argue against it, many people in Melini had the hots for him. But being as dense as he was, Chilchuck figured that this time scale was on par for him realizing some things about himself.
The two of them were sat across from him, close enough that any passerby might have some suspicions on their undisclosed feelings. To his credit, Kabru was trying to be as small as possible, but Laios was being relentless with putting plate after plate in front of him, sitting close by when he wasn’t trying to stuff him like a turkey. Laios stared with satisfaction at every bite Kabru took, and Kabru looked like he was choking on each morsel. It was honestly quite hilarious watching him struggling.
It took Chilchuck a while to warm up to Kabru, not quite sold on his ability to manipulate people like putty. He was uncannily good at weedling what he wanted out of people, and there were several occasions early on in their interactions that Chilchuck found himself giving out more information than he wanted; he was the fastest person to learn about his divorce and his kids without prying it out from him by force. It was a terrifying skill. He was almost certain it was that night where Kabru was crushed by the realization of liking Laios that gave Chiclchuck the sense of humanity that he felt was missing from the guy. It did also help that he almost unequivocally had Laios’ back ever since they revived Falin, defending him in places where Chilchuck would have typically picked up the slack if they were in the dungeon, and he seemed to do it out of compulsion rather than deep premeditiation. He wasn’t afraid to call Laios out on his bad decisions - as he was sure he did in that cell - but always put his image first, handling Laios’ cavalier missteps with grace.
Since then, while Chilchuck did respect him, he also took petty pleasure in watching the few moments where Kabru’s skills faltered, which were almost exclusively when Laios was around. It was like every little string of thought he had pinned to a person became a tangled mess when it came to Laios and his blunt honesty and complete wholesome energy.
Chiclchuck was interrupted from his thoughts by a heavy hand on his shoulder.
“You’re making a creepy smile at them, Chilchuck.”
Senshi was already walking away when Chilchuck turned to face him. He was busy with his shield-pan, totting it around full of a sloshing stew that smelled amazing. Izutsumi was trailing behind him, nose up in the air. She tried to reach into the pot, and Senshi jabbed her in the shin lightly with his sandals. He got up to stand beside him as he set the pan on the butcher block table. “Was I really being that obvious?”
Senshi was puttering around for more bowls. “Your eyes were squinted and your mouth was stretched very large. It could not be more obvious.” He walked by him, gently touching his waist as he passed. He set the bowls down, spooning out a large helping of the stew into three bowls. He shoved one in front of him, then held one over his head for Izutsumi, who promptly snatched it out of his hands to sit cross legged on the table.
“Izutsumi you should sit on a chair.”
She gave him a look of pure disgust. “I don’t want to be anywhere near those two.” Her spoon was waving in accusation at Laios and Kabru, who were all but leaning on each other in conversation. “It’s gross.”
Senshi sighed. “Very well, but that is not a nice thing to say. They’re young, they’re figuring stuff out.”
“But you have to admit, Senshi,” Chilchuck started, “it’s kind of wearing on? Everyone knows Kabru has the -”
A heavy hand was slapped across his mouth, and Senshi gave him a disapproving look. “No gossiping. Especially when the people you are gossiping about are right there.”
Chilchuck felt warm with light embarrassment. Senshi was right, of course, but it was getting tiring. At least he didn’t deny that part. He’d have the opportunity to vent his frustrations later.
“We are all going to join them. Come, let’s go.” He made his way towards the pair, and heard Laios greet him again in welcome, swiftly pulling him into their conversation.
With a reluctant sigh, Chilchuck made to follow. “Come on, Izutsumi. You know how he’ll get if you stay by yourself.” Izutsumi’s face was a picture of perfect agony and disgust befitting of teenagers. Chilchuck did not miss that phase of his kids’ lives, but the face was funny and iconic in retrospect. She sneered, then promptly got up to trail behind him.
When they sat down, Chilchuck decided to tune in to the conversation, which was a surprisingly tame discussion of lunch plans for the boy fugitive.
“Yes, and with the rest of the boar that you and Izutsumi caught, maybe we could make some more of this stew? I know he said he likes roast, but I believe you may have set him up for disappointment in the future, since the regular staff cannot get it quite as good as you do.”
Senshi nodded sagely, stroking his beard. “Hm, I used a lot of it for our stew right now. But we did catch some pheasants and gathered a few of their eggs as well. We could use those.”
Laios’ eyes brightened. “Oh, what about that one thing you made on the second floor with the Basilisk!”
“Hm, yes. And I have some cured meats as well, so I can work those into their own dishes. Will Miss Falin still be here? I know she is in consideration for working on that dungeon in southern continent.”
“Yes, she will. She is taking a small break from dungeons, since that last one was pretty difficult.”
Chilchuck tuned them out, turning his attention to Kabru, who looked sick while staring at all the food in front of him. “Is that all Laios’ doing?”
“Hm?” Kabru snapped back to attention, his factory smile quickly slipping onto his face. “Ah, yes. This is all him. He insists that I cannot take care of my food habits, so he took it upon himself to fix that.”
Chilchuck snorted. “Yeah, sound like him. He’s been especially bad at this after all the stuff in the dungeon. That appetite of his sure is something else.”
“Haha, yes.”
There was a slight pause. Senshi and Laios had got up to go look at the pantry, and Izutsumi had decided to perch herself on top of the cabinet, sprawled as best as she could to take a nap. Chilchuck sighed, and decided that maybe it was worth needling him for more. “You know, you can say no to him.”
Kabru met his gaze, slightly startled. “He is my King.”
Ugh, this guy. “Yeah, but he’s Laios. You knew him as such a good bit before all this formality nonsense.”
Another pause, and Chilchuck had decided to give up.
“Isn’t that too selfish?”
Oh, so that was how it was. “What do you mean?”
“You and the rest of your party have known him for years. Isn’t it selfish of me, who only knew him for a few weeks really, to accept informality with him?” Kabru was being unusually vulnerable, and while Chilchuck had made the decision to pry, he didn’t expect it to be so easy. He honestly did not know how to navigate this.
Chilchuck took a moment to think about his response. “Well, have you known Laios to care about formalities?”
“No, but he should,” Kabru replied quietly.
“True,” Chilchuck said, “but he has made a lot of progress in that thanks to you. Honestly, seeing him at work from my end at the Union? It’s clear how much better he is now.”
“I guess you’re right.”
He could hear Senshi and Laios returning. As much as he wanted to pry more at the real problem, he decided to save Kabru the embarrassment of anyone overhearing them - other than Izutsumi, who was, thankfully, not a snitch. Chilchuck scratched the back of his head. “I know we aren’t very close, but if there is anything else you would like to talk about,” he pointed at himself with confidence. “I know a thing or two.”
Kabru looked at him with wide eyes, before settling into a surprisingly earnest smile. “Thank you, Chilchuck.”
“What, are the two of you becoming friends?”
Chilchuck felt himself physically cringe at Laios’ enthusiasm. “Yes yes, we are now best friends. I have officially replaced you.”
Laios had the gall to give him an actual pout. “What!? No, that spot is mine. You already have Senshi, who you stole from me.”
What a brat. Chilchuck pushed himself up to get up in Laios’ space. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Laios went slightly red, eyes flitting between Kabru and himself. Chilchuck could see the gears turning in his head, and he felt confident in Kabru’s chances. Although, he anticipated that their approaching ball was going to make things more dramatic.
“I don’t care,” Chilchuck said, backing down before Laios could answer. “I’ll be off. Senshi, come over sometime soon before you head out of Melini.” Senshi gave him a thumbs up. “And Kabru, you know where to find me.” Kabru nodded lightly in acknowledgement.
“What about me?” Really, Laios was still such a baby.
“You’re not allowed to leave this castle, dumbass, especially with everyone trying to kill you. And especially more with that kid you decided to adopt.” Laios pouted again, eyes working on the waterworks. “Before you start sobbing, I’ll come visit again next week at the earliest as friends. I have Union contract negotiations this week, which means we’ll see each other in the court room on Thursday.”
“Oh yes, I remember. I will be there, and as will Yaad.” Kabru looked far more comfortable with this line of conversation.
“And,” Chilchuck pointed strongly at Laios, “so should you, your Majesty .”
Laios groaned, and Chilchuck let out a petty laugh. “As I said, I’m out. Don’t get killed, don’t get the kid killed.”
_____
The minute Laios and Sensi started drafting plans for their next meal, Kabru took his leave. If he spent one more second in front of all that food, he was going to vomit. Just the sheer amount of Laios had stuffed into him was almost three times his typical portion size. And more discussion of food would make him hurl, likely all over Laios’ robes.
When he stepped outside, he whistled, and the guard Yaadhad assigned for Laios, came out from around the corner.
“Sir,” he said with a salute.
“At ease, Jaundreac.” The dwarf nodded, but stood extra stiffly against the door. “I assume Yaad asked you to tail his Majesty?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, you are doing a splendid job. His Majesty and his friends, Senshi and Izutsumi, are still inside. If either of his friends leave, make sure to make yourself known. Otherwise, tail them from a distance. I would like his Majesty to feel some autonomy in all of this.”
Jaundreac gave him another swift salute. “Noted, sir.”
Kabru gave him a nod. “I will be in the library if you need me. Send for me by any of the other guardsmen.”
With that, he made his way towards the library, stopping at his room to pick up all the invitations he had completed with him. He picked them up, stacking them neatly against his dresser, before tucking them in his satchel next to the stack of incomplete letters and envelopes, heaving the bag over his shoulder. He made to step out, but turned around quickly to pick up his decanter of hard whiskey. This was going to be a long, painful, and arduous task.
He made it up there, making straight for his spot near the window. He pulled out the letters, setting the completed ones in a neat stack to his right, then laid out the remaining envelopes in front of him. He set the stack of pre-written letters - requiring only names - in front of him, and then the list of candidates on his left, along with his inkwell and quill. He was trying his best to avoid this task, but he figured there was no point in prolonging this. He would have to send out the remainder of the invitations today. He inhaled deeply, then set to work.
Thankfully, the sleep deprived and deeply hassled Kabru of the past had only left him with five more invites. Two of them were going to the lesser houses in Khaka-Brud, one to the remaining feudal King in the central continent, and the last two…
Kabru penned down the first three quickly. Honestly, Kabru thought that none of them were good candidates, but he couldn’t really exclude anyone. The general invitations for the ball had already been sent. These thirty invites were formalities for the more powerful families in each nation. With Melini being both an ancient and new kingdom, they had to frequently keep up their relations with most of the world in order to keep their identity fresh and consistent with the rest of the powers around them. It was especially gruelling at the start of Laios’ rule, since many other kingdoms, chiefdoms, and feudal colonies refused to either recognize Laios as King, or recognize Melini as a country at all. That sentiment had mostly settled, since their country was such a hotspot for agriculture, and trade was the easiest way to create relationships with other governing powers. But, of course, putting Laios front and center was the most important part of establishing him as a competent monarch, and that involved a lot - a lot - of teatimes and feasts. Laios naturally loved the latter, as it required the least amount of socializing. The former was incredibly difficult.
And that was what these invites truly were for: invitations to a formal, one-on-one meeting with the King prior to the ball. All the families would be bound by politics to show regardless, even if they were not interested in being betrothed to Laios. Kabru knew he was going to hate it just as much as Laios would, though likely for different, complicated, and irritating reasons.
He tapped his quill restlessly against the edge of the table, looking at the last two names on his list. The first was going to Milsiril, who had recently picked up a new tallman orphan, who happened to be of eligible age, a woman named Peony. This invite would, naturally, extend to his whole family, meaning that it wasn’t just his eccentric elvish mother who was going to show up, but so would his new foster sister - who he had never met - and his three foster siblings, who he had grown up with sparingly. The invite likely also extended to Mithrun, since Milsiril had all but officially adopted him as well, and while Kabru was glad for the opportunity to meet with him again, he could not imagine poorer circumstances than a social gathering for them.
The second was going to Rinsha. She was not a noble, and technically did not qualify on the basis of royalty. However, her relationship to Kabru and his party made her a technical exception to that rule, and he was obligated to invite her personally. He was confident that she would have no interest in Laios himself, but worse than that was the fact that she was a chronic grudge-holder, and still wasn’t particularly civil with him, even two years later. To make things worse, Rin had confessed to him during Falin’s feast, and he very politely and shortly rejected her. He, of course, had known about her interest in him for years, but he couldn’t bring himself to see her as anything other than family, and when they had parted, he knew that she was upset at him. Their few meetings since had been awkward and typically only in the context of a group reunion. He missed her, but couldn’t trust that she missed him more than she hated him.
Kabru sighed, hitting his head repeatedly against the table, before gathering himself and sitting up straight. He took his decanter out, letting all of the liquor slosh down his throat like a burning river. It was already night. The clear sky over Melini was truly a sight, and Kabru stopped his work briefly to look at the stars.
One of Laios’ other strengths was storytelling, and he seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge not just of monsters, but of constellations as well. They had spent one night, around the start of the second year of his reign, watching the stars. It was after Marcille’s reunion with them from her time in the Canary prison. Laios had arranged for an elaborate feast, and the turnout had been far larger than their group of friends, as he had promptly forgotten that he was a King and she was a court mage. Kabru caught him on the principal balcony of the ballroom, the summer breeze cutting through the heat of the night. The sky, then, was as clear as it was now, and Laios’ eyes were certainly twinkling. He started talking to him, as if they were picking up a conversation from a few minutes ago, pointing out the North Star.
If you look left, you see those two stars leading from it? That is the tail of the little dipper! It’s called that because it looks like a spoon. It has a counterpart called the big dipper that is a part of the bigger constellation, the Bear. If you squint at the horizon, you can see it’s head, but it’s still too early to see it.
He rambled on, telling him about the Bear, the Hunter. They were out there for a while, and Kabru was certain that was the longest he had been quiet without feeling uneasy. When Laios finally stopped, he looked at Kabru with a sheepish smile, and confessed that he was overwhelmed with the number of people he had to talk to. Kabru told him that he was doing great, and the way Laios’ eyes lit up left him starstruck. Marcille had interrupted them there, drunk to high heavens and sobbing. And as Laios left, being pulled away by her, he turned to look at him, giving him a broad, breathtaking smile. Kabru had stood out there, blaming the heat on his cheeks on the summer night and the alcohol, before joining the rest of the party.
Kabru shook his head, slapping his cheeks firmly. He lifted his quill, put down both names, then cast a quick drying spell. He neatly folded the letters, before tucking them into their envelopes. He turned each one over, making sure that each one had a name attached to the back, along with their general location. Satisfied with his work, he packed up his bag and headed to Yaad’s office.
His pace was brisk, as he was ready to go to sleep. When he got there, he knocked, stepping in when he heard an affirmative. Yaad was at his desk, glasses perched delicately on the tip of his nose, reading an oversized tome. Despite his body being closer to his age, the millenia spent as Thistle’s captive had aged a lot of his senses. Senshi’s efforts had only just started revitalizing the Golden Kingdom citizens’ sense of taste, but every other sense needed work, and some were damaged enough that they would never fully heal.
“What can I do for you, Mister Kabru?”
Kabru cleared his throat, standing up straight. “I just wanted to tell you that I have finished the invitations for the teatimes. I shall send them out first thing in the morning.”
Yaad nodded. “Thank you for your work, Mister Kabru. If that is all, you should get some sleep.”
“As should you, Mister Yaad. Even if it does not come easy,” he gave him a small smile. “Your body is mortal now, after all.”
Yaad sighed, placing his glasses down and shutting his book. “I suppose you are correct.”
Kabru bowed to him, then turned to head out. “Goodnight, Mister Yaad.”
“Goodnight, Mister Kabru.”
With that, Kabru made for his room. He could not wait to be in his bed. In the morning, he would bathe, send out the letters, then deal with the paperwork for the upcoming Union negotiations. Once he got to his room, he locked the door, dumped his satchel near his study, then stripped down bare. He tossed himself into his sheets, then stared out the window at the night sky, and quickly fell asleep to the memories of star gazing.