Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The old, wooden door creaked loudly, announcing the entrance of a man dressed in a dark cloak. A familiar face, but not one quite welcome there. His smug smile seemed to show that he knew that much.

"What do you want?" The other man asked, barely looking up from the letter he was reading.

A tattered sheet of paper was tossed onto the table, drawing his attention away from the letter. On it, a recognizable format, one he'd seen countless times before. A drawn portrait, a price, and of course, in large lettering at the top: 'WANTED.' The drawn image of who that bounty was for was unexpected, but still not enough to be intriguing.

"The prince, huh?" He sighed, before going back to reading. "Not interested."

"I can get you an even bigger prize from The Nest."

He took in a deep breath. "...Why do you want me to do your dirty work? You can manage just fine on your own, right?"

The cloaked man put a hand on his hip. "For old time's sake! And, if you get the prize, all that money could go toward FOBO.” The second sentence was practically sung, he knew how much the donation would matter. “Or, y’know, you could run away again and take all the money for yourself,” He added, giving a reminder to the other man of what he’d done years ago.

As if he cared.

"I don't think the king would let me leave again if he had me in his sights."

"Let me be your middleman, then! I can--" He was interrupted as the opposition barked out a laugh.

"And how much of the cut will the middleman be taking this time?" He asked. He got an eyeroll in return.

The cloaked figure moved toward the other's desk, staring down the latter and bringing a more serious tone to the room. "Listen. I might be able to help you out a lot more than you'd think. Just hear me out on this."

A beat of silence. The man set his letter down, folding it up neatly as he thought. His eyes were narrowed in contemplation. "Spit it out, then."

If this was another dumb attempt to lure him to the castle, he'd be quick to walk the other man straight out the front door. But, he knew that look... There was more to it than just money. And, if it was the prince who had run off, well.. That would be quite a bit of leverage to have over the king, wouldn't it?

He had sworn a long time ago that he would never hunt down another person to deliver them to the hands of a corrupt leader. He left for a reason. But...

"I think I could get you one of the kids."

If that was the case, then it was fucking hunting time.

One foot in front of the other. One breath in, and one breath out. That's all he could focus on. He couldn't risk tripping up, he'd be as good as dead if he fell.

Saying he had messed up would be more than an understatement. A more accurate stance was that he had fucked himself ten times over, sticking up two metaphorical (and physical, but no one needed to know that) middle fingers at the crown, leading to most of the army now targetting him. When news came from the king, it traveled fast--that much was obvious when the guards near the outskirts of the capital had identified and known to chase him down so soon after his escape.

He was now running back into the more busy parts of the city, hoping to lose them in the crowd. He definitely couldn't go back now, the king wouldn't let something like this go. He wasn't sure what exactly would happen to him if he ended up back at the castle, but he wasn't willing to find out. So, he ran.

He had been running for a couple weeks now. It was easy to take enough money with him to pay people off for keeping quiet when he bought supplies from them, but he knew that he didn't have an infinite amount, and clearly he wasn't as good at being discreet as he had originally thought. He needed to find an effective way to get out, and fast, because he wasn't in any shape to be sprinting like this every day, either.

Speaking of which, he was still in the midst of running for his life. He followed the loudest noises he could hear past the wind in his ears, leading him to a marketplace. Relief flooded through his system as he laid eyes on the bustling streets. He shoved through crowds of people, causing a bit of an upset, but he didn’t care. In fact, he quite preferred having the distraction, it could help him disappear.

And disappear he did, making a sharp turn around a corner and behind a building. He could barely fit in the narrow space between the two walls, and the different textures scratched against his skin uncomfortably, but he knew he could manage.

He could hear the head guard give an order for the group to split up, which gave him confirmation that they didn’t know where he was headed. He held his breath as he heard a group of footsteps marching in his direction. He wasn’t necessarily hidden well, and it was too late to find a better place to go. At the other end of the wall was just a dead end. He was stuck. All he could do was pray that a guard wouldn’t be observant enough to look in his direction. He wasn’t sure how likely that outcome was.

He bit his lip, every step he heard making his chest tighten even more. He couldn’t go back, he hated it there, he hated everything that his so-called father was, he hated having all the responsibilities he didn’t ask for--

The first guard came into his vision. They were scanning the street. Behind him, another came around, looking on the ground for any traces of recent movement. So far, so good.

But Mariana had let his breath out too soon. Another entered his line of sight, and he could see that they were being much more observant. They slowly turned their head, and Mariana’s eyes widened as he found them moments away from seeing him. There was nothing he could do to change the inevitable. He silently cursed himself for being reckless, knowing that the punishment when he was returned would be more than grim.

But it was all for naught. The guard’s head suddenly snapped in the other direction as a high pitched whistle broke through the air. Mariana wasn’t sure what caused it, but he thanked it profusely for completely taking hold of the group’s attention. There was a lot of indistinct shouting, he wasn’t sure where each sound came from or why they did, but he was grateful to be able to catch his breath as the guards became very preoccupied on something else.

Hesitantly, Mariana sidled back out of the space and put the hood of his cloak over his head, as it had been before. He began to backtrack, walking in the direction he had come from. He didn’t look back. No matter how curious he was as to what had distracted those guards, he knew he couldn’t risk getting caught again.

He did his best to hide his face from the many people he passed by, and prayed that he wasn’t being followed. He could almost feel eyes staring into the back of his skull, but he must’ve just been paranoid. Right?

The feeling still lingered even as he crossed into a completely empty street, an unusual sight for a location in the capital city. It seemed to just be a lesser known strip. It wasn’t very well cared for, the narrow dirt road had dusted onto the walls of each building, making it an unappealing sight.

Somewhere you wouldn’t expect a prince, of all people, to visit.

So why did he continue to feel like he was being watched?

Mariana dragged the fabric of his cloak over his torso (It had folded back while he was running. He felt some form of security when it was hugged around him.) and looked around carefully. For the first time in a while, he turned around, searching for any sign of someone trailing behind him. There was nothing.

He felt as if he was going crazy, observing empty spaces with narrowed eyes, as if someone would materialize in front of him to prove that he was correct. That he wasn't insane. He huffed out a sigh as nothing else came, the only sound present being the crunching of dirt and stray twigs beneath his own feet as he carefully walked backwards.

In his attempt to be more aware of his environment, he found himself clumsily tripping over something on the ground. He didn’t even realize he had nearly fallen over until he noticed an arm around his back, holding him up. The stranger responsible for catching him seemed to be almost as surprised as he was, staring at him with widened eyes. So close up, Mariana couldn't help but notice that his eyes were really pretty. He wasn’t quite sure why that had to be the first thing he thought, rather than having the idea to run away from the potential threat.

Slowly, the man’s expression turned into a sheepish grin. “You alright?” He asked.

Mariana blinked, realizing he had been frozen in place for a bit too long. “Y-Yeah, sorry,” he breathed out, standing up rather awkwardly.

“You should.. Probably watch where you’re going next time,” The stranger advised.

Mariana nodded. “I’ll try,” He said, diverting his gaze to stare at the ground, knowing that staring was a bad manner. As he examined the dirt road, he found himself confused at the fact that there wasn’t anything on the road that could have tripped him, as far as he could tell. Strange. Perhaps he had accidentally fallen over his own feet, due to his lack of attention.

The man continued. “We wouldn’t want you getting caught so quickly, would we?” Mariana stopped. He slowly raised his head to see that the person’s expression hadn’t changed in the slightest. After a moment of tense silence that dragged on for a bit too long, his complexion slowly faded into something more confused. “What, you don’t think I’d be able to tell who you are? That’s some durable fabric,” He noted, taking an edge of Mariana’s red cloak and pinching the hem between his finger and his thumb before pulling away, “Something you’d only find in the army’s supply. Your clothes aren’t wrinkled--not yet, at least--something uncommon even for the rich folk here.” ‘Not yet’ felt strangely menacing. It was a reminder that Mariana was leaving both the good and the bad behind. “Not to mention the crowd of guards you seemed to attract.” He let out a whistle to show that he was impressed. The highest pitch of it was.. familiar. “I could only get a good third of ‘em on me.”

Oh. He wasn’t going to turn him in. He had been the one to save him. That was a relief. But a… perplexing one.

Mariana tilted his head to one side. “Why did you do that?”

The man just shrugged. “Shit’s easier when you’ve got other wanted criminals to compete against,” He said, so matter-of-factly that Mariana barely registered the confession inside of the sentence.

“You-- I’m --?” Mariana stuttered, failing to properly articulate his thoughts. Since when was he a criminal? And, should he be worried about the other man being wanted? Only god knew the reason Mariana hadn't made a break for it yet.

He got a laugh in response and an unexpected pat on the back. “I’m surprised you haven’t seen your poster yet! They're almost everywhere now,” The alleged criminal expressed, beginning to walk, still with his hand on Mariana’s back, forcing them to move together. “Honestly, I think they did you dirty. All the drawings people have made may be nice, but they don’t seem to actually live up to the man himself.”

“Thank.. you?”

“And you’ve never heard of me?” He lifted his hand from Mariana’s back to hold a finger up, pointing at his own face. Mariana shook his head. He had never really met anyone outside of the castle, nor had he been very educated about the world beyond the walls, the king had made sure of that. “Well then, nice to meet you. I’m Charlie.” He stuck out his other hand for Mariana to shake it.

Hesitantly, he took the invitation. “Mariana,” He introduced himself in return.

“I can call you by name?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, you don’t need the honorifics… I left those behind.”

“Alright then,” Charlie said, picking up the pace. Mariana struggled to keep up at first, almost falling over again, and making Charlie chuckle. “So, what’s your plan?”

Mariana bit his tongue. He wished he had thought it through more thoroughly, but he hadn’t had access to enough information to actually know how to leave. That was purposeful on the king’s part. “I just need to get out of this city. I’ll move to somewhere more.. peaceful.”

“Do you know how you’re gonna go about doing that?” Charlie continued to interrogate him, now putting an arm around Mariana’s shoulders to guide him as they walked. To where, Mariana didn’t have any good guesses.

Mariana sighed. “Word moved faster than I could. Public transport knows all about me now. I found that out the hard way today…”

“Ah,” Charlie nodded his head. “Yeah. Can’t trust the usual guys. You can only rely on the people who can’t contact authority because they’d get arrested, too,” He said with a wink.

Huh. That was who Charlie was, wasn’t it? “And why would you want to help me?” The man seemed very interested in escorting Mariana, but the prince couldn’t find any proper reason for it. Not a reason that was free, at least.

“I am simply helping another man in need, no ulterior motives or strings attached…” He trailed off as he noticed Mariana’s brow raised in an unconvinced suspicion. He pursed his lips and dropped his arm from Mariana’s shoulders to walk ahead of the prince, still whilst facing him. “Yeah, alright, fine. I looked through your satchel, and you’ve got some good shit. I wouldn’t mind negotiating over that gold.”

Mariana hummed, considering the offer. Whilst paying a wanted criminal didn’t sound very morally correct, he couldn’t say he had many other options. Charlie had just saved him from being taken back to the castle, that showed his capabilities. Not to mention, the prince owed him for that, didn’t he?

He tried and failed to ignore the fact that he didn’t know when Charlie could have looked through his things. The man must’ve been knowledgable in pickpocketing, meaning that whether or not he agreed, he may still lose his belongings…

“And where would you take me?”

“Alright, hear me out,” Always a promising start to a sentence, “Where’s the last place that they would expect you to hide? The dumbest, craziest option?”

“Uh… Aqui? The capital?” He guessed. It sounded like the stupidest place to him.

Charlie, apparently, had an even worse idea in mind, though. “Good guess, but no. Crime’s big here, there are places to hide--which is why they’ll think they’ve trapped you here for a while. I’ve got people that can get you out quietly, though.”

“So, what crazy place would they be bringing me to?” His voice was deadpan, as he was already getting a bit bored of the buildup. Charlie didn’t seem to get the memo, continuing his attempt to build suspense.

“Just as refined as the castle, so I’ve heard,” He began, staring off into the distance as if he could see the location from here. “And a peaceful getaway, perfect for people like you looking for a quiet retreat.” Mariana held back a smile at the endearing attempt to sell the idea as if he were the owner of the land. “Not to mention, no one would suspect the prince to hide in the city offering the highest reward for his capture.”

“Okay,” Mariana felt the need to interrupt. Charlie was definitely right in saying that this would be a stupid place to go. “No, I’m not--“

“You don’t have to go!” Charlie suddenly stepped toward him, forcing Mariana to halt. “We’ll stop by lots of places on the way that might also work, since The Nest is kinda far, but seriously, it would be the perfect spot,” he argued.

“How do I know you’re not a bounty hunter, or someone sent by the king? And even if you’re not, why should I trust a criminal?”

Charlie tilted his head up to stare at the sky in disappointment. Or, maybe he was asking god for help in convincing Mariana to join him. Suddenly, Charlie turned around and began to walk away again. “Fine. I was gonna get you a pretty decent carriage to take you straight out of town, but if you’re not interested…” He shrugged as he loudly muttered his remarks. “Guess I’ll go tell Roier that his friend won't be visiting.”

Did he hear that right?

At first, he had little to no interest in entertaining this supposed thief. But the familiar name piqued his interest. He found himself following Charlie again.

“Roier? You know Roier?”

Charlie waved a hand dismissively at him. “Oh, it’s probably a different Roier. He was just a servant at the castle, happened to take care of the prince’s quarters for a while… I doubt you’ve ever met him.”

“Pendejo,” He caught up enough to see Charlie’s face, and noticed that he was struggling to hide a smile, knowing that he had won. “Where is he?” Mariana asked. He didn’t think that Roier would choose to live in the capital after moving out of the castle. He assumed that he and his husband would move somewhere cheaper, from what he knew neither of them had that much money to spare.

Come to think of it, Mariana had never even met Roier’s husband. He would just hear about him through his friend, and eventually the man stole him away, and Roier had to move out of the castle to live with him. He wasn’t jealous, or anything, just… A bit more lonely for the past few years.

Charlie gestured for Mariana to follow him, suddenly making a turn into the next street. This one wasn't vacant, a few people scattered about. Mariana drew his hood around the sides of his face, cautious of anyone noticing him. He felt a bit safer with someone else by his side, but knew that he wasn't ever truly safe.

“It’s a bit of a walk from here. Maybe you can rethink my offer in the meantime.”

Well, if Roier were to endorse the plan, maybe he could consider it. Roier was possibly the only person he trusted at this point. He really wouldn’t mind being able to rely on someone else, as he definitely needed the help. So, yes, perhaps he would join this criminal and find a new home for himself. But he’d have to hear and see Roier in person first, it had been far too long since they’d been able to talk.

Despite the sorrow situation, he was actually feeling a bit excited now.

Chapter Text

“Uh… huh…?”

The girl slowly stirred, opening her eyes slowly. They felt heavy. Maybe she should just go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, a sudden movement forced her to jolt up, preventing her from resting any longer. She quickly found herself surveying the room with wide eyes. It was cramped, small--unfamiliar, too.

Where were her stuffed animals? Or all of her jewelry?

“Hello..?”

She could barely see anything in the dim light. When she squinted really hard, she could just make out a little figure, with stripes all over it. She carefully crawled over. Upon closer inspection, she realized she was staring at another person. The stripes had been the kid’s shirt.

She looked around for anyone else, maybe someone who wasn’t sleeping. She continued to navigate on her hands and knees, occasionally sticking out her palm to make sure she wouldn’t ram into an unlit wall. She managed to find another kid through the dark, but it seemed that they hadn’t woken up yet either.

She tried calling out again, this time looking for someone more specific. “Pa..?”

He had been home with her the night before, he put her to bed, read her a story, tucked her in… Why wasn’t she still in that bed now?

Where on earth was her father?

She didn’t notice the slight shaking of the room she was in until it suddenly stopped. There was an unusual silence in the air, one that she didn’t like very much. Only being able to hear her own unsteady breathing, she tried to comfort herself.

Her pa wouldn’t let her go anywhere unsafe, this was probably just a fun field trip of some kind! He had always told her they’d go on vacation one day, maybe he was surprising her. She wouldn’t know why they wouldn’t take any of her belongings with them, but… Her pa was smart. He knew best.

She just wished she had confirmation that her dad was actually anywhere in the area. It was all she would need, all she asked the world for in the moment, but nothing gave her any clues.

She jumped as light suddenly flooded into her vision, making her shield her eyes with her hands.

Her sight adjusted slowly. She had to blink repeatedly to try and regulate the sudden intake, and was so preoccupied with it that she hadn’t noticed the two tall figures who had entered. She let out a surprised yelp as one of them grasped her arm and began dragging her out. Another unfamiliar person was taking the other two children, picking them up off the floor and carrying them behind her.

“Who are you? Wh-Where’s my pa?”

No response. She couldn’t make out either people’s faces, which were covered by white masks. She had a bad feeling about this. She tried to yank her arm away, but the person’s grip was too firm for her to make any progress.

She was brought to the interior of a building, made of impossibly white walls. Her eyes hurt, looking around the completely blank environment. The only objects that stood out were the doors, lining the walls of the hallway, each with a number listed in gold on the surface. They were very close together, she couldn’t imagine how small each respective room must have been.

She was lead to the end of the hallway and into a wider room with a similar appearance, although it wasn’t completely devoid of furniture. There was a long table in the center of the room, with several chairs surrounding it. Almost every chair held more people, she found, as multiple heads suddenly turned to face her. They all looked to be around her age, maybe a bit older. They also all wore matching white garments.

She waved at them enthusiastically, still very lost on what was happening, but not wanting to show it. She had to make sure the other kids thought she was cool, even if she didn’t know them.

She continued to be dragged along, taken to the end of the table. The person pointed at the empty chair, and reluctantly, she climbed up onto it to sit down.

After the other two children had been sat down on either side of her, the two unidentified people exited the room. An uncomfortable silence followed.

The blonde kid on the opposite end of the table from her tapped a finger on the table. He looked around at the rest of the group with worried eyebrows. Eventually, he cleared his throat.

“Hi there. What’s your name?”

She blinked. “Me?”

He nodded. “You’re.. the only new one that’s awake.”

She looked from one pair of staring eyes to the next, before settling for making eye contact with the only one who had addressed her. His gaze was a lot nicer than the other tired glares.

“Sunny. Whad’ya mean by ‘new?’ How long have you guys been here?”

“Depends on who you ask,” someone else chimed in. He had pitch black hair and really light irises, she almost couldn’t make out the blue color of them because of how well they blended into the whites of his eyes. “The first eight on this side of the table have been here for…” He put a finger to his chin and looked up as he thought. He looked to the kid next to him with fluffy brown hair, but he just shrugged and turned to Sunny to ask his own question.

“Do you know the date? We don’t have clocks or anything here.”

“Um…” She couldn’t say she did. She never really kept track of that kind of thing.

“August.. 6th..?” A soft voice said, coming from the girl sat next to Sunny, who had been asleep. She barely raised her head, and only had one eye open to scan the room.

The fluffy-haired boy held his fingers in front of himself, counting them as he did the math. He shook his head, then restarted. Everyone else lost interest after a few moments and moved on.

A girl with brown pigtails and glasses peered over at the girl who had just woken up and squinted. “Your clothes look nice.” Sunny felt offended that she hadn’t been complimented too, so she crossed her arms. “Not something you’d see back home.. Where are you from?”

“The Nest.. Are we not there?” She slowly lifted her head, still making an effort to fully wake up.

“No, sorry.. We’re pretty far from there,” The blonde kid spoke up again. A beat of silence followed.

How far? Sunny was from there too, and that also meant that was where her dad lived. Was her dad still back there? How far away was she from him?

She raised her shoulders up in discomfort. She was only liking this trip less and less as time went on.

“How about we do our usual introductions?” The blonde kid proposed, clasping his hands together. A few kids rolled their eyes, but didn’t object. “I’m Chayanne, and I came from The Nest as well. You’ll be with me if you’re put into the medical test group--you’ll see what the groups are and mean later.”

“He was in the combat group at first, since he was really good, but he wouldn’t fight any of us so they moved him to another group. Then another, then another… He was really good at being a bad test subject,” A black-haired kid remarked, smiling as she said it. “I’m Leonarda.” He pointed his thumb at himself, still smirking. “I used to live in Muerte Roja before being brought here. You can find me in the pain test group. It sounds bad, but I can handle it.”

The other black-haired kid nodded. “Yeah, he’s pretty tough.” He then smiled at Sunny and the girl sitting next to her. “I’m Dapper. I don’t know where I’m from, honestly. I’ve been all over the place. But like most others, I was in Roja before being put in here. Most of us were transported alltogether, like you three were.” The girl next to Sunny leaned forward to see the boy with the striped shirt, still fast asleep.

“Yeah, but he got close with one of the king’s men before things got bad, so he gets special treatment,” A boy with curly brown hair muttered, glaring down at the table. “Bobby, by the way. I’m a combat group kid from Muerte Roja.”

The boy sitting next to him frowned. “He’s just jealous, ‘cause the guy who would visit him ended up leaving.” Sunny noticed that he had a little red bow tied around his wrist, contrasting with the completely white environment they were in. “Although, I can’t judge. I have someone looking out for me too. I’m Tilín. In the fear group. It’s better than the pain one, be grateful if you get put in.”

“Damn right you can’t judge! You got to keep your dad,” The girl with pigtails said, her speech quickly switching from offensive to downright sad. Sunny let out a tiny gasp. Would she be able to keep hers? “I’m Juanaflippa, and--“

“At least you guys had parents to begin with,” a small, monotone voice interrupted. The last three to speak all glared at him.

“Oh, we are not doing this again--“

The entire group suddenly exploded into conversation, arguments flying across the table. Sunny couldn’t keep track. Some people seemed on the verge of tears, others volatile. And so quickly, too. Chayanne was trying and failing to talk to Tilín, who had stood up in his chair and was yelling at the child who had interjected. No one seemed to be listening to the few trying to make peace, so he eventually resigned and crawled up onto the surface of the table. Two girls who hadn’t spoken yet and sat closer to Sunny suddenly covered their ears as he sucked in a deep breath.

“EVERYONE!!” All of them stopped at once, jerking in unison to look at Chayanne. The two people next to Sunny suddenly perked up. Chayanne put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Every time…” he mumbled, before gesturing at the boy who had started the tension. “This is Trump. As far as we can tell, he was born here and his parents left when he was a baby. But we don't know for sure, " Chayanne seemed tired, as if he'd had to tell them the fact many times in the past, "because that's just what they told us. He's in the pain group with Leo."

He took a step forward and pointed a finger at the boy who had been trying to calculate how long they had been here. "That's Ramón, he's from The Nest, but got taken while him and his dad were visiting Muerte Roja."

"Muerte Roja? Isn't that the scary place that the kingdom doesn't like?" The boy with the striped shirt spoke up. It seemed that the commotion had caused him to stir, he was now wiping at his eyes with a free hand.

Sunny had recognized the name, it was a place that her father would talk about a lot. It had something to do with his work, she wasn't very sure what it was about.

"It's not that scary. Not when you grew up there, at least," Bobby boasted, crossing his arms. The two kids next to him--Juanaflippa and Tilín--copied him and nodded their heads in unison.

“It’s really hard to live in, but the people are nice. They didn’t even know me, and still tried everything they could to hide me away when the guardsmen came…” Ramón elaborated, wringing his hands as he looked down.

“What’s that whole thing about, anyways?” Sunny asked. “What do they want with us?”

“Well, I’m not sure why anyone else from The Nest would be brought here,” Dapper said, furrowing his brows. “They took all of us to punish the adults in Muerte Roja. My dad tells me they’re traitors, but that’s all I get to know.”

“What about you, then? You said you just happened to be there, right?” The girl next to Sunny questioned. Chayanne answered for him.

“They just take whatever kids are there, because they don’t like anyone who visits. I was an exception, they went out of their way to kidnap me because my dad worked for FOBO, an organization that--“

“My pa works with them too!” Sunny blurted out. She finally found something she knew about.

“Wait, really?” Leonarda leaned forward in her seat. “Who’s your, uh- ‘pa?’”

Sunny smiled proudly. “His name’s Tubbo! He’s always super busy with work… Sometimes he has to travel, so I stay with my uncle, Fit.”

Ramón immediately perked up. “That’s my dad!” He was grinning from ear to ear at even the mention of his father. In all fairness, Sunny would have had the same reaction if anyone else could give her anything about her pa. “So, he’s alright? Still working with them?” Sunny nodded, and he let out a relieved huff of air.

“Maybe you guys know about my parents, then..?” The soft voice to her side had been nervously fidgeting with her hair. “My name is Empanada. I’ve had a lot of people take care of me.. I stayed with Bagi for a while but then she had to go. Since then, I’ve gone between a lot of moms. There was Mouse, Tina, Niki, and Jaiden. I was staying with Jaiden before this.”

The other brunette next to her tilted her head. “You said Niki? Does she have pink hair?” Empanada smiled and nodded. “Did she.. ever mention me? Lullah?”

Empanada shrugged. “Sounds familiar… Maybe.”

“It’s possible that, because of all of your connections to our parents, you were taken too,” Dapper commented, a finger to his chin. He shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry. It’ll be a much bigger adjustment from somewhere as nice as The Nest.”

Sunny didn’t recognize some of those words, but she appreciated what she assumed the sentiment was.

The kid with the striped shirt took in a breath to speak, but the door was opened once again. It seemed the last couple of names would go unknown for now.

In stepped two masked figures, and Sunny couldn’t tell if they were the same as before. They immediately took their places on either side of the door and bowed their heads silently. In their middle, an unmasked man had entered the room. Sunny first noticed how fancy his attire was, and then, his warm yet unsettling smile.

He exhaled in satisfaction as he examined the room, each child flinching and as his eyes landed on them. He looked Sunny right in the eyes and his grin widened. It didn’t fade in the slightest as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Welcome home, children.”

Charlie gave the wooden door a few loud knocks. A few beats of silence followed, before the door swung open, revealing the face of a familiar ex-servant of the castle. Mariana beamed as he saw his old friend, immediately lunging forward to hug him.

“Roier!”

Mariana felt arms around him soon after. “Hey, man!” Roier’s hands moved to his shoulders, breaking them apart so that they could look each other in the eyes. “What are you doing out here? I heard they’re looking for you,” His eyes darted to Charlie for a moment before he guided Mariana into the house, Charlie following and closing the door behind them.

“Yeah.. Charlie is helping me hide. I, ah..” Mariana looked down at the ground with a hardened expression. “I don’t want to go back.”

Roier nodded along. “I don’t blame you. There was a lot of bad stuff going on, you know?” He looked back and smiled at Charlie, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad that someone’s willing to escort you.”

“And a friend, no less,” Another voice interjected--one that Mariana didn’t recognize. The source of the noise entered the room, revealing a man with a white streak running through his brown hair.

“Cellbit!” Charlie rushed ahead of them to greet him with a friendly handshake. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, things are nice and peaceful here…” He trailed off, before wrapping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders. “I’d love to give a proper welcome to our guest, but would you two mind if I pulled Charlie aside for a moment?”

Mariana shrugged, gesturing for them to go, and they did. Roier had him sit down on a padded seat in the room, and Mariana happily took the offer. It had been a bit since he had the chance to take proper shelter, most nights he had been sleeping in alleyways outside. It was risky, but felt a little safer than the inns.

He remembered reading a story, once upon a time, of a little girl who had tried to buy herself a coat from a stranger. It was freezing cold, and the drawings in it showed her slowly turning blue, but still, the seller kept bringing the price higher and higher.

The ending was awfully grim, not something his younger mind had anticipated in the slightest. Nor was it something he could ever understand. But nevertheless, he sensed some sort of familiarity around these parts, and it reminded him of the story.

He would do what he could to stay warm, hold his cloak close to his side, and keep away from any conmen.

“So..” Roier was sitting on a table that hung close to the floor, hands intertwined on top of his lap. “What did it? What made you run?”

Mariana bit his tongue. “My..” He sighed. Could he still refer to this man as his father? He had abandonded the title of prince, so the man should hold no relation to him. “The king has only gotten worse. Before I left, he had sent one of his advisors to be executed… Just for refusing one order. They should be punished, yes, but death is never an acceptable sentence. Not to me.”

Roier took a moment to respond. “I hope this doesn’t come off the wrong way, but I do think you would be a really good king.”

Mariana frowned. He knew that he’d be better in some areas, sure, but he was still so unprepared. When he was younger, he’d zone out in front of every tutor. He’d sneak out of his room through the window at night, just to get a better view at the sunrise. Then he’d doze off while the guards who found him scolded him. Time and time again, he’d disobey the king, but no punishment was severe enough to make that desire disappear. He was still that kid at heart, and no child knew how to govern a kingdom.

But he didn’t feel the need to get into that right now. “Thank you, Roier.”

Unable to sit still for more than a few moments, Roier stood up again. “Do you want anything to drink? Or eat?“

“Food sounds nice, I haven’t had much..”

Mariana followed him into another room, where a counter against the wall hosted various fresh foods. Roier handed him a basket full of colorful picked fruits, and Mariana gratefully snacked on them while they continued their conversation.

“So, how did you meet Charlie?” Roier asked, beginning to walk aimlessly in circles around the area. The pacing wasn’t unusual, Roier could be seen doing this a lot around the castle when he still lived there. The first few times Mariana had asked if anything was wrong, his friend had insisted that everything was fine, so things were still fine now.

“He saved me from some guards.” Mariana eyed the other items on the counter, picked an apple up, and looked to Roier as he held it in his hand. “He said he’d get me out of the city for some gold, which I brought with me.” Roier nodded, so he adjusted his grip and bit in.

Once, an advisor had told him that he shouldn’t eat apples, as he would look unflattering while doing so. Since then, they had been his favorite fruit.

“What about you? How do you know him?”

Roier looked away and pursed his lips. “I only really know Charlie through Cellbit, though I do remember seeing him sometimes--“

“Talking about me?” Mariana jumped and almost dropped his apple. The door Charlie had come through was insanely quiet, apparently. “Only good things, I hope.”

Roier chuckled. “Of course, of course.”

Cellbit entered next. “We talked about the living situation,” He started, getting straight to the point. “It is dangerous for us to be keeping you here, but I think we can manage for one night.“

“I was gonna go look for a guy who could pull together a ride for us tomorrow, so you all can lay low for now,” Charlie added, already heading toward the door.

“You’ll be okay?” Mariana asked, peering his head over to watch as Charlie opened the door.

Charlie smiled, looking back to meet Mariana’s eyes. “Been doing this for years, I think I’ll manage.” He waved to the rest of the room. “See ya soon!”

And he slammed the door.

Mariana looked back to see Cellbit whispering something into Roier’s ear. He decided to keep to himself for now, not wanting to intrude. Even if he kinda wanted to know what they were conversing about.

When Cellbit pulled away, Roier had tensed a bit. He was fidgeting with his hands and looking down.

“What is it?” Mariana asked, worrying for his friend.

Cellbit smiled. “We don’t want to worry you. Why don’t I show you your room instead?”

Mariana hesitated. He couldn’t do much in just one day, he supposed. Perhaps it would be best for him to give Roier a minute alone.

“Okay.”

They went into a smaller room, and Mariana had to duck his head slightly to fit under the smaller doorway. Inside there were two beds on opposite sides of the room, much tinier than the one he’d had at the castle, but that was to be expected.

“You just happen to have an extra two beds lying around?” Mariana questioned, confused as to why these would even be here.

Cellbit shrugged. “They were here when we bought the property.”

“Why not sell them?”

Silence.

Before Cellbit chuckled. “I don’t think they’d fit through the door,” He said. “Besides, it’s nice to have them, just in case of situations like this.”

Mariana sat down on the bed to his left. The mattress was soft. Worn.

“Is harboring fugitives something you do a lot?”

Cellbit let out a much more hearty laugh this time. “No, no. Just a couple guests over the years.”

Mariana hummed. “Well, thank you. It’s comfortable.” He would have liked it a lot less if he had come straight from the castle, so maybe there was something nicer about the nights he had spent out in the cold.

“Do you want some time alone?” Cellbit was already looking back at Roier through the doorway.

“Sure.”

The quiet was nice. He felt safe, for the first time in a while. He knew it wouldn’t last, so he tried to savor it, but he was also just so tired. He hadn’t gotten very good sleep in a long time, and his schedule was all over the place. A nap seemed fine enough about now, though…

Slowly but surely, he drifted off to sleep.

He dreamed of the castle. There was no one there, he simply walked through the refined hallways in complete silence.

Until that peace was broken. Someone shouted his name. He looked around, but there was no one there.

His pace quickened as he tried to find the voice. He didn’t recognize it, but it needed him.

The hallways morphed and changed to take him into a new place. He was shorter now, and standing in his father’s study. It was much more spacious, the bookshelves around him seemed to go on for an eternity.

He looked down. He couldn’t make out the features of whoever was staring up at him, but he knew that they were crying.

They were sat on the floor, hands trembling as they hovered above the bookshelf that had fallen over.

“I-It was an accident, right? It was an accident!” The person--a child, he could remember, looked back and forth between the shelf and Mariana. “He- He’ll understand..”

As the child’s breathing got heavier, Mariana noticed that there was a deep red emerging from under the furniture, coating the carpeted floor. It spread unnaturally, covering the books that had scattered. One of them looked familiar.

Ah, that story. The girl who had frozen to death. He reached out to touch it.

He was wearing a coat.

The hand that had emerged from the bookshelf was blue.

Chapter Text

Mariana stepped into the wagon, hand pressing against the wooden wall as he did. The floorboard underneath him creaked under its newfound pressure. When he lifted his hand from the wall, it left a slight mark, as his glove retracted some of the dust that had covered it.

“Don’t want that giving us away,” Charlie had appeared behind him and was wiping at the area, erasing the evidence of there being a handprint there.

“What do you mean?”

Charlie surveyed the space as he slowly made his way over to the opposite end of the wooden box. “I’m assuming they’ve still got guards stationed outside at least one of our stops. The kingdom tries their best to limit access to Roja.” The only things filling the area were barrels and crates. Charlie sat atop a particularly larger crate. “They’re easy to trick, though. A forged letter and fake luggage works just fine.”

“This right here,” He continued, knocking on the box, the noise hinting at a completely hollow interior. “Is where we’ll be hiding. There are some restraints on it, they’re just for show. Our coachman only has to convince them that there’s poisonous stuff in here, and they end up leaving it alone.”

“They don’t.. confiscate it?”

In response, Charlie reached into the pocket of his shirt and unfolded a sheet of paper. He cleared his throat before reading, “As you are aware, Muerte Roja’s residents have proven to be a growing threat towards the king. The toxic materials being carried are to be stored nearby, as a failsafe against them.” He looked up. “Then there’s the king’s signature. We copied it from the original letter, which just replaced ‘toxic materials’ with ‘weaponry.’” Mariana tried not to act surprised at the thought, because logically, something like that was well within the king’s ideals. Unfortunately.

“Muerte Roja..” Mariana muttered. “Is it really a good idea for me to go there?”

“They might not take too kindly to you at first, but we won’t stay long.” Charlie turned his head to peer out a small window in the wall. He muttered something about needing to cover it up before continuing. “We really should stop by, though. They’ve got a lot of good assets, ones that could cover up your trail a lot better than I can.”

Mariana walked further inward before leaning his back against the wall across from Charlie. “You know better than me,” He said with a sigh.

Muerte Roja was a town only occupied by exiles and the occasional ambassador from FOBO. Mariana had never been there himself, and never expected that he would have to visit. The king never had, despite him being intertwined in every affair between the group that lived there and the castle.

Mariana never paid much attention to detail, but he knew that tensions were high between the town and the kingdom. So high, in fact, that the kingdom had disowned the land years ago. Maps had small borders surrounding the town, restricting it from legally expanding, and bringing guards to oversee all transport across it.

And, apparently, Mariana and Charlie were going to go through it.

Yeah. Cool. No pressure, or anything.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Charlie’s concerned expression. “It’ll be a while before we get there, it’s pretty far out. You don’t have to overthink it all just yet.”

Mariana nodded, attempting a smile.

Charlie let his arm go limp before walking off. “Let’s focus on getting all our luggage before our driver gets here, yeah?“

“Yeah.”

“Come with me.”

“Are you insane?!” Quackity didn’t mean to shout. “I’m not going anywhere, there’s no way we could make it.”

“We can, though!” Charlie took Quackity’s hands in his and stepped back, lightly pulling him along. “I’ve got a whole plan worked out, I’ve tested routes overnight, I promise it can work.”

Quackity shook his head. “I’m not taking that risk. The last thing I want is to be a prisoner again.”

Charlie frowned. “Are we not still prisoners? We can’t even go outside without permission.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust us. Which is fair, mind you, considering the fact that you…” Charlie stopped. Quackity decided not to finish his thought.

“Quackity. It’s only a matter of time before he goes back on his word. If he doesn’t trust us, we can’t trust him. That’s how it’s always been.”

Quackity pulled his hands away. “Charlie, for the first time in years, we’ve gotten to visit other cities, and meet people other than each other. This is one of our highest points.” Charlie had stared at his empty hands for a moment before crossing his arms. Quackity redirected his attention by pointing in the distance, at a balcony a few floors up. He lowered his voice as he said, “And one day, you’ll probably be able to see him again.”

Charlie’s gaze slowly drifted down to the floor as he thought.

“Do you really want to give all that up, just for the chance to start a new life on your own? How would you even go about doing that?” It was obvious Quackity wasn’t going anywhere, but he really didn’t want his friend leaving either.

“Muerte Roja.”

“What?”

“I have someone that will take me to Muerte Roja. They all came from here, right? So they’ll recognize me. They’ll know. They’ll help.”

Quackity ran a hand through his hair. “I doubt life is much better there.”

“Either way, I’m going. I’m done with all of this.” He began to walk away, but Quackity grabbed his arm.

“Charlie, please. You’re being irrational.”

Charlie looked him in the eye, wearing a tired expression. He yanked his arm back and tightened his jaw. “Sorry you feel that way.”

And then he was gone.

Never seen again.

Until.

“What are the people there like?”

Mariana and Charlie were sat across from each other, backs to the walls of the trailer. Charlie had his legs crossed, and was rolling out a map that he had pulled out of his bag. He held up a quill in between his fingers, but made no move to write. Instead, he just stared down at the sheet, quill being bounced from side to side as he fiddled with it.

“They’re nicer than you’d expect,” He said, shifting forward slightly. “When I was younger, and didn’t really know what to do, they helped me. Taught me how to survive ‘n’ shit.”

“How’d you get in the first time?”

“Same driver we’ve got today brought me there. His name’s Fit, great guy. He’s done a lot for me.”

Mariana smiled. He felt a little more safe knowing that Charlie knew their coachman personally. Of course, that also meant that Fit was probably intertwined with some criminal affairs… But that really shouldn’t bother Mariana anymore, since he had formed a small bond with a wanted criminal for this journey.

Charlie leaned forward and used his quill to mark a circle on his map. Mariana adjusted his position so that he, too, could observe the sheet more effectively.

He didn’t really have the layout of the kingdom memorized, despite the fact that he was set to inherit it. Attention to detail just wasn’t really his strongsuit.

“This right here,” Charlie barely tapped the tip of his quill to the center of the circle repeatedly, making faint dots appear on the page. “Is where we’re gonna stop first.”

Mariana cocked his head to one side. That wasn’t a town or city--just a blank space off to the side of the road.

Charlie looked up at him. “You know what’s here?”

Mariana shook his head.

“Good. That means the castle doesn’t know either.” Well, Mariana couldn’t guarantee that, but Charlie seemed confident enough beforehand. “It’s nothing too special, just a settlement where people like us can stop by and buy materials, so that we don’t have to risk going into all these towns and cities full of guards. The people there are always different, but welcoming.”

“You’re talking about it like it’s..” Mariana took a moment to find the right word. “Homey.”

Charlie shrugged. “It is homey.” His smile was warm, something that looked far too sweet to be the face of a thief.

Oh. He shouldn’t stare.

Mariana turned his attention back to the map. “What’s after that?”

“The settlement should be able to supply us with enough to get..” Charlie dragged his quill against the paper to bring the ink down the road, until it stopped at a point. “Here, within the next few days. After that, we’ll need to give the horses a longer rest, so we’ll set up a little makeshift camp in the evening and leave late morning. A few more days of traveling later, we’ll end up in Muerte Roja.”

Mariana chewed on the inside of his cheek. He had thought that they would be able to pass through a few more towns along the way--Charlie had said they would, and that he could stay at any one that he took a liking to… But so far, the only two choices it seemed he had were Muerte Roja or The Nest. The town full of exiles that hated the king, or the city full of wanted posters with his name on it.

…Fun!

Mariana flinched as Charlie suddenly poked his nose with the quill. He used his glove to wipe at the small speck of cold residue the ink left behind.

“You keep zoning out on me.” As if he’d never heard that before. “Something on your mind?”

“A lot of things,” He admitted with a sigh. “But you can continue. Sorry.”

Charlie hummed, before continuing.

More lines, alternate routes, so on and so forth. Mariana really tried to keep track, don’t get him wrong, it was just a bit difficult. The floor beneath him was slightly shaking as the trailer rode over the rocky path they were on, the back of his mind was preoccupied with anxiety, and Charlie…

Charlie looked upsettingly good.

Not that he-

Listen.

The room was pretty barren. There was one person there, where else were his eyes supposed to be? Staring was a bad manner, yes, but he remembered being asked to keep eye contact by some tutors. So this was probably fine. Charlie didn’t seem to mind.

Quite a few people have had their time in the spotlight in the past, catching his eye. He just didn’t expect this from someone who had supposedly spent his entire life on the streets.

Charlie wasn’t neat, by any standard. Another reason why Mariana had surprised himself with this. Usually, he’d take interest in more refined individuals, such as that one representative from FOBO who had spent a month in the capital, handling diplomatic issues. At the time, Roier was still working for him, and continually teased him for his attempts to make conversation with the representative. Although, he did still give Mariana the man’s schedule for meetings, so that they could conveniently arrive as the man finished his work.

They had only ever actually spoken thrice, at most. It was the closest Mariana had ever gotten to pursuing love.

So this would pass. He would get over it, as he had done before.

For now, though, he didn’t see any issue in enjoying the way that Charlie’s hair fell over his face, or the expressions that hid behind his eyes, or the way he softly chuckled the few times that he caught Mariana’s eyes on him throughout the night, sticking the feather of his quill back in Mariana’s face each time as some ridiculous punishment.

He would admit, he was having a little bit of fun, in spite of the dire circumstances.

This journey might not end up too bad after all.

The king let out an exasperated sigh and put a finger to his forehead as he closed his eyes, signifying a growing headache.

Quackity assumed that said headache was his own presence, now walking into the room, determination strong in both his eyes and his stride. He knelt onto one knee as soon as he was close enough.

“What is it?”

“Charlie is traveling with him.” Quackity said promptly.

The king lifted his eyelids just enough to where Quackity could see his irises hiding behind. “I am aware of your old friend’s involvement. I already have everything under control, so if that is all--“

“Let me go after them.”

The king remained unphased, save for a slightly more annoyed demeanor. “There is no need for further action, only patience. Both of them will soon be delivered to me on a silver platter.”

“But you had Bad make a deal for that, right? You’re losing something in the process,” Quackity argued, will unbreakable. He had spent too many sleepless nights recounting Charlie running away. Abandoning him. “I want to bring them back. Both of them.”

There was a period of silence. Consideration.

“..I’m afraid I don’t trust you on your own. I’ll humor this, yes, but I’d like for you to travel with Etoiles.”

Quackity winced as he bit his tongue. He had learned to stop fighting against the king’s demands, it would be a losing battle anyways. As much as he despised not being able to do this alone, he knew that this was the best he could get. And he had been taught to be thankful for that during his time here.

“Yes, sir. I-“

He sucked in a deep breath.

“We will not disappoint you.”

Chapter Text

Mariana opened his eyes slowly, finally having the chance to shift into consciousness peacefully, without a rocking floor beneath him jolting him awake. He yawned as he propped his back up against the wall, eyes half-lidded so that he could see Charlie closing the backdoor behind him.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

Mariana smiled. “I was getting up anyways, estoy bien.” He shifted onto his side, laying his head against a barrell. It was far from comfortable, but his groggy head didn’t mind too much.

Charlie crossed the distance between them and knelt down, giving Mariana a better look at his face, much to his delight. “I’ve ordered supplies, they said they’ve got enough to spare for us,” He looked pleased, everything must have gone smoothly then. “I’ll start loading everything on in a minute, so that we can leave when the sun rises.”

“You’re not going to sleep?”

“I’ll survive another couple of hours--“ Charlie’s head spun in the other direction as a shout sounded out.

Mariana lifted his head, curious. “What was that?” He asked, voice a whisper.

“I don’t know.” Charlie stood up and walked to the door, wincing as it creaked open just enough for him to peer through the gap. His expression slowly hardened as Mariana could hear more shouting, getting closer now.

Mariana’s mind grew anxious as he saw Charlie tense. Charlie took a breath in and huffed another one out, then returned once again to wrap Mariana’s cloak--previously used as a blanket--around him. “It doesn’t matter if you’re seen anymore, if these people are here, chances are they already know.” He then took Mariana’s satchel from the ground and emptied its contents out onto the floor, before shoving it back at him. “So, change of plans. I’m gonna need you to get those supplies for me. As much as you can. They’ll all be in packages, under a carving of an ‘S’ on the wall, in the first building to your left.”

“What are you going to do?”

Charlie moved over a crate to reach a smaller box, grabbing a dagger out of it and methodically tucking it under his palm before closing it. “Distract them. Or, I’m at least going to try.”

Before Mariana could ask any further questions, or attempt to stop him, Charlie was gone. Mariana shook his head in an attempt to get out of his grogginess, but standing up still felt like a chore. Still, he knew that there was a time crunch now, and they needed these materials for their journey. He wouldn’t let Charlie down.

As he exited out the back of the wagon, he could see the outline Charlie in the distance, lit by a torch held by another man who was dismounting his horse. Unfortunately, they were positioned next to the place that he needed to get into.

He needed to get out of his own head. He had been finding ways to escape the confines of his room at night for years now. He had escaped the castle not too long ago. He could adapt to this.

When he made his way over, he kept a close eye on the confrontation between Charlie and the intruder. As he got closer, their words became easier to make out.

“Of course your tracks were covered, I’d expect no less from the guy who disappeared off the planet for years on end.” It seemed like a backhanded comment, something.. personal? Did he know Charlie? “You just happened to leave late enough for me to catch up. Word travels fast, you know that better than anyone.”

Mariana sidled up against the wall, refusing to look away from the scene as he relied on his hands to find the doorway.

Charlie crossed his arms. “Who gave you the tip?”

“What are you gonna do? Hunt them down? I thought you were done with those days.”

Mariana’s hand finally met empty space, so he quickly turned into it, and was greeted by a room with stone flooring and wooden walls. Two oil lamps sat on either side of an arched sign attatched to the ceiling that read ‘STARBOBBY.’ The light also allowed him to spot the other man in the room, holding a large box in his arms. Behind him was a wall with different dividers, marked with letters right above them. The ‘S’ that he was looking for was conveniently where the person was standing.

Mariana rushed over, immediately scooping up handfulls of unlabeled packets that were spilled out onto the floor and stuffing them into his bag.

“Holy shit. You’re the passenger?”

Mariana glanced at him for a moment before doing his best to gather more of the smaller items. “Si. Sorry for all the trouble it’s causing.. You’re the coachman, right?”

“Yeah. Fit.”

There was a thud outside. He could barely make out Charlie’s muffled voice as he strained his ears to hear it. “You know, Quackity, I can’t think of a single time I’ve lost to you without letting you win.”

Quackity. Huh. Sounded familar. He assumed that he must have been one of the king’s men, that would make sense.

“Good thing…” This Quackity guy seemed out of breath now. “Good thing I’m not alone, then.”

“We should probably hurry,” Fit said, beginning to make his way out. “I think we’ll only have time for this one trip. Take as much as you can.”

Mariana did as he was asked, tense as he listened to the clinking sounds in the distance. As he exited, bag and hands full, he found that Charlie had equipped a sword. Quackity was off to the side, crossing his arms as he held an empty sheath in hand.

Thank god he was a thief, huh?

The person he was fighting had white hair that stood out in the dark lighting. He was smiling as they fought, and his mouth was moving, but Mariana couldn’t make out any of their conversation.

Eventually, he made it back to the wagon, and Fit helped him load the heavier items onboard before going up to the front seat and grabbing the reins. Mariana stayed stationed at the door, keeping it ajar for Charlie, who still seemed stuck in conflict. He was knocked to the floor, a sword against his throat. Charlie managed to swing an arm to trip his aggressor, giving him the time needed to grab the sword again and run off.

He heard a shout from the man recovering, unintelligible to Mariana from here.

“Sorry!” Charlie shouted back. Mariana stuck a hand out for Charlie to grab as the ground began to move, relative to him at least. “Running’s a real bad habit of mine!” Mariana was pulled forward by Charlie’s weight on his arm, but he managed to keep upright while lifting him in. “You’d think they’d catch onto that by now,” He said to Mariana, closing the entrance with a smug look on his face.

“You know those people?”

Charlie nodded. “They’re bounty hunters that work under the king’s command. Used to be quite the pain in the ass when I was in my heyday.” He spun his stolen blade in his hand once before putting it between the wall and a crate. “I guess they followed us out here…” Charlie soon began to pace as he ran a hand through his hair. “They don’t have nearly as much luggage as we do, which means they’re gonna be a lot faster.. But maybe we can lose them, they’ll have to make more stops than us…” His thinking aloud slowly faded as he began to mumble everything to himself.

“Do you ever stop working?” Mariana asked. Charlie had gone straight from one point to the next, never once resting in front of Mariana. Even when Mariana had awoken in the middle of the night before they had started their journey, Charlie hadn’t been in his bed. Or in the room, even. He wasn’t sure if he had even slept once in the time that they had known each other.

“Do you ever stop asking questions?”

Mariana’s mouth snapped shut. Charlie’s aggresion showed for only a moment before dying out.

“Sorry. I just..” Charlie sucked in a deep breath. “I’m just stressed… And tired.”

Mariana put a hand on his hip. “Sleep, then,” He ordered, matter-of-factly. Because, it was a matter of facts, that sleep made one less exhausted.

“I can’t do that, they’re probably right behind us, and I need to make a..” He faltered for a moment as Mariana brought a hand to his shoulder and gently pushed him toward the wall. “…plan. What are you doing?”

Mariana, remembering what Charlie had done earlier, suddenly kicked the base of Charlie’s foot, causing the man’s knees to buckle. He let out a loud curse as he fell to the floor, looking back up to see Mariana’s ever-calm demeanor before his vision was completely obstructed by Mariana’s cloak thrown onto his head.

Mariana picked the cloth up again so he could more properly drape it over Charlie, as a blanket rather than a blindfold this time. “Sleep,” he said again. “I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

Charlie still looked at him with some amount of indignation, but he never moved or said anything in defiance.

Eventually, Mariana sat by his side. And if a particular inconsistency in the road jostled their transport a bit and knocked Charlie’s head onto his shoulder, and Mariana absentmindedly played with the ends of his unkempt hair as he slept, that was only for him to know.

“What the fuck was that?!” Quackity chucked his empty sheath at Etoiles, fuming.

Etoiles, like the tryhard he was, caught the object in his hand, rather than letting it fly past him like any normal person would.

He tippped the point of it toward Quackity. “He didn’t have a sword. An unfair duel is no duel at all.”

This guy and his honor were already driving him insane. “Why does any of that matter? We’re supposed to bring him back, not give him an extra chance to escape!”

Quackity grabbed the end of his sheath again, but Etoiles didn’t waiver. He managed a few seconds of tug-of-war before Etoiles somehow managed to knock him to the ground, allowing the item to clatter to the ground alongside him.

Lifting his head, he found that Etoiles was already walking away, whistling to grab his horse’s attention. “I am going to chase after them. If you are still coming, then get up.”

He hated following orders, but there really was only one choice for him. He peeled himself off the dirt, spitting out some dust particles and wiping his face with a sleeve.

As he mounted his steed, he looked back at the area. It was eerily quiet, considering the tents and structures there. “Is there no one else here, or are they hiding..?”

Etoiles followed his line of sight, taking a moment to respond. “There are signs of recent activity that probably weren’t caused by Charlie and his friends. They’re hiding.” He got his horse to begin a slow walk as they exited, Quackity’s following close behind.

“I’ll have to report this, then.”

“No.” Quackity looked at Etoiles in confused astonishment, as the latter continued to crane his neck to view the lay of the land. “I recognized something on a sign. A service, owned by a friend of the king.”

“A friend?” Quackity wasn’t aware that the king could have one of those.

“You know the girl who told you about Charlie being in the capital?”

“Jaiden?” Etoiles nodded. “I thought she was allied with Roja.”

“She has a lot of friends, but her allegiance is ultimately with the crown.” Their speed gradually began increasing. “She helps some fugitives, and turns in the ones that His Highness asks for.”

“Is that how you have such a good record? You’ve got someone tracking all your targets for you?”

Etoiles’ eyebrows raised. “No, I’ve never even met Jaiden.” He then smiled. “I just do my research, unlike someone else.” And then he was off.

Yeah, no, Quackity was gonna kill him.

Juanaflippa couldn’t sleep.

Her eyes had been closed, her body flat on the dirtied mattress she called her bed, and her glasses were folded and off to the side. She had been like this for..

Well, she couldn’t know for sure. But it was too long for her liking.

What had kept her awake for so long? Why, her new roomate, of course. The one that they’d switched Tilín out with. Now, Tilín was stuck with that Pepito kid, while Empanada was paired with Ramón.

They were still in the same test groups, so they saw each other, but Juana still felt the right to be upset. She was getting a little tired of new people arriving. And the crying.

They always cried.

Sunny was especially loud.

Eventuallly, she caved and stood up. She found Sunny curled up into a little ball in the corner, unchanging from when Flippa had last checked. Flippa sat down in front of her and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. Sunny flinched, and curled in further on herself.

Juanaflippa sighed. “Listen, I get it. We all miss our parents.”

“You don’t get it,” Sunny insisted, shaking her head into her hands as she continued, “You’ve been here for lots more time. You’re used to it.”

Juanaflippa stayed silent for a small while. “…I cried for a long time. Back then, I still kept track of the number of sleeps I had, since it was the only way to count days. I think it took a month before I stopped.” She would go insane if Sunny followed in her footsteps, hence the reason for this little chat. “But the feeling is always there.”

Sunny slowly raised her head, letting her puffy narrowed eyes peek out. “Whaddya mean?”

“I always wanna cry. Or scream. Something.” She then shrugged. “But I’m tired of giving them what they want.”

Sunny got out of her position, opting for sitting on her knees now. She seemed completely hooked on whatever Flippa was about to say, so she knew she needed to make it count. Something along the lines of what Bobby had once told her should do the trick.

She held up a finger as she spoke. “You’re in the fear group. They want you to cry. Don’t give them what they want.”

Sunny nodded as she sniffled, and all the sudden, she had her arms wrapped around Flippa’s torso, getting her clothes all wet. “Can-“ She took in a shaky breath. “Can I cry tonight? Just this once? Promise I won’t again..” she held out her shortest finger, offering it up to the other girl.

Reluctantly, Juana linked their pinkies together. She remembers the first time someone explained the concept to her. He had taken pinky promises very seriously, it made her laugh. She missed her dad.

“Okay. You can cry.” She allowed Sunny to stay in her arms for the rest of the night, silently mourning the loss of their homes.

One day, her dad would find his way back to her.

She knew it.

Chapter Text

The rain was harsh and unrelenting. It had every intention of keeping Charlie and Mariana awake tonight, as it brought in colder air and the constant sound of pattering against the wooden walls and ceiling. Mariana couldn’t help but feel bad for Fit, whose only shelter up front was some fabric tied down to create an overhead shade. It must have been soaked at this point.

As tiring as the weather was, Mariana still found it in himself to be greatful. One of the greatest sources of warmth was body heat, after all, which left Charlie and Mariana pressed up next to each other, practically cuddling under his cloak. Charlie had lamented about not being prepared enough, but Mariana couldn’t bring himself to complan even once. This was nice.

Was.

Just as he had begun to doze off, the previously fast-moving wagon came to a sudden halt, shifting everything in it slightly forward. Charlie’s eyes had been closed, but he clearly felt the movement, as he slowly raised his head. He and Mariana shared a worried look with each other before Charlie stood up. A soft knocking from the wall they shared with Fit must’ve given Charlie some sort of signal.

“Maybe a wheel got stuck in the mud. I’ll go check it out.”

The door opened and shut. Through the small window, though, Mariana could still hear their voices, which shouted over the ever-persistent sound of the rain.

“What happened?”

“Over there.” The window was covered by a makeshift curtain, as Charlie had arranged before their departure. Unfortunately, that meant that Mariana couldn’t see what Fit was referring to.

“Do you know them?”

“No, but…” Mariana could still hear their voices, but not their words. He just had to wait until eventually, the door opened again, with Charlie right outside.

He had someone else next to him, a girl with hair half-brown, half-white. She was propped up against his side, arm draped around his shoulders, unconscious.

“Help me get her in.”

Mariana rushed over, assisting Charlie in lifting her into the back of the wagon. Charlie dragged her into a corner while Mariana closed up, and after Charlie knocked on the wall, they were off again.

Mariana hovered over Charlie’s shoulder as he unfurled one of his sleeves and used it to wipe off the mud on her face. Her skin had a blueish hue to it, and the pigmentation in her face was faint. He could tell that she was just asleep though, she still let out small shaky breaths despite her current state.

Mariana went to get his discarded cloak, bringing it over and wrapping it around her. She needed it more than they did.

“Who is she?”

Charlie shrugged, movements still a bit sluggish. “Dunno. We’ll have to ask when she wakes up.”

Phil stepped out of the carriage, paying his coachman with a few coins before sending them off. Foolish stood at his side as they approached the entrance of their destination--the home of Foolish’s work partner.

Upon arrival, Phil knocked, and patiently waited for the front door to slowly creak open. First, only his eye peeked out. Then it disappeared. The door moved further inward, and Foolish took this as a sign to enter. Phil followed suit.

Tubbo looked a bit worse for wear, to say the least.

There were bags under his eyes (not the most uncommon occurrence, but he still looked more tired than usual), his hair seemed unwashed--greasy--and he slouched even as he stood.

“Woah, what happened?” Foolish said, taking in Tubbo’s current state in unison with Phil.

Tubbo glanced away for a moment, scratching the back of his neck. “Sunny went missing.”

Foolish’s eyes widened as Phil’s narrowed. “When was this?”

Tubbo went further into the house, the other two following behind. “About a week ago. I sent the letter so soon because..” He took a seat at his dining table, which only had one other smaller one available. They both refrained from using the chair, it wasn’t meant for them. “I think it was them. The crown.”

Phil was thoroughly confused. He knew that Tubbo was at risk for working with the exiles at Muerte Roja, but thus far, the king had let it be. FOBO was ultimately a positive part of the king’s reputation, and rarely directly caused trouble for the royal family.

Foolish followed his train of thought. “But we didn’t do anything? The last thing we did was transport those materials that you got approved.”

“Do you have anyone in the capital? Maybe they’re being suspected for helping Prince Mariana--I hear he’s managed to get out of the city.”

Phil shook his head. “I mean, Cellbit still lives there. The only person out of the town right now is…” He trailed off. Oh. Oh no.

He wasn’t completely sure if Charlie was responsible, but he did know that the prince couldn’t have made it so far on his own. There would be numerous reasons for him to single out Mariana and choose to help him, but Phil had no idea which one would apply.

Saying that Charlie had mixed feelings towards royalty was an understatement.

“Who..?”

Phil sighed. “It’s… a long story.”

Tubbo’s expression turned into something more determined. “If it’ll give me anything to help Sunny, I want to hear it.”

Phil looked to Foolish before nodding. Foolish started off. “Have we ever told you why Muerte Roja exists?”

Mariana watched intently as the woman began to stir. He nudged at Charlie’s shoulder to get his attention as she slowly lifted her head from the ground. Her eyelids raised the slightest bit, but as she saw that she wasn’t alone, she swiftly sat up, eyes wide.

“Where am I? Who are you?”

“Relax,” Charlie put his empty hands up as a sign of peace, and Mariana mimicked the movement as he spoke. “We found you collapsed in the road. Figured you could use a roof over your head for a bit.”

Her state remained unchanged, else for her shoulders raising slightly. “You didn’t answer either question.”

“I’m Charlie, this is Mariana. We’re backtracking a little from where it seemed like you were headed, but we’ll be sure to drop you off at the closest town, I promise.”

“I’m Bagi.” She relaxed slightly. “…Thank you.”

“What were you doing out there, alone in the cold?” Mariana asked.

“I was trying to get to the capital.” Her brows were furrowed as her eyes maintained a sharp focus on a certain spot on the floor. “My horse must have ran away when I collapsed. Most of my belongings were with it…”

Mariana looked to Charlie, then to his satchel that lay against the crates. It had been refilled with currency after all of the supplies he’d carried with it were stored away properly. “We might be able to help a little…” Charlie admitted. “We can talk through that later.”

“Where are you from?” Mariana was more than intrigued, but he hoped he wasn’t prying too much.

Bagi pursed her lips. “I’ve been to a lot of places. If I remember right, I was born in the castle.” Charlie seemed to perk up at that. Mariana wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her before, but it seemed as if her stay wasn’t very long. He didn’t recall much of his childhood. If she had been there, he wouldn’t know.

“I had a brother,” She continued, Charlie and Mariana sitting around her as if she was reading them a bedtime story (He remembered when the king used to do that. When the king smiled at him and… Were there other people there? Perhaps Bagi was). “He told me to run one day, said he’d come find me. I haven’t seen him since, so I’ve been looking for him instead.”

“What’s his name?” Charlie asked.

Bagi began picking at her own hands, only looking down at them in her lap. “…I don’t know. But when I meet him, I’ll ask him.”

Her determination saddened Mariana, actually. He knew how high the possibility was that her brother was dead.

A hand, peeking out of a bookshelf, blood pooling around it.

No. That one wasn’t a boy.

Chains around wrists as another servant was sentenced to their demise.

But none of them looked anything like her. He knew that there was something familiar about her, he must’ve seen this supposed brother before, but his memory failed him.

“Are you traveling to the capital? Looking for him there?”

She nodded. “Maybe he didn’t go as far as I thought. Or he’s still in the castle.” She then crossed her arms. “If he really did stay in place for all this time, I’m gonna hit him.”

That startled a laugh out of Mariana. In turn, Bagi managed a smile.

“Well, I wish you luck there.” Charlie stood up. “Although, we were actually leaving the capital, so we’re putting you a few steps back..“

“It’s fine. You saved my life.”

The wagon came to a halt. Charlie picked up the satchel and began counting off some coins as Fit opened up the back. He came in to quietly converse with Charlie, something about the prices of things in this particular place.

After giving her a handful of gold and silver (along with a folded piece of paper, thin enough to the point where Mariana could tell there was writing on the inside--he wasn’t sure what it was for), which she gratefully accepted, Bagi stepped out and waved goodbye.

And then they were on their way.

Once the rain stopped, Mariana could finally fall asleep. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the end of the unexpected obstacles as of late. He was greeted once again with a dream, starting the same way as the last. This was a reoccurring thing, almost every night he found himself back within the eerily silent castle walls. Only once could he remember that it had shifted into that nightmare of the accident that had occurred in his father’s study.

This dream offered something new, though.

He was called to dinner.

He took one step, and suddenly, he was in the dining room. The table stretched across the room, nearly fifteen seats spread across it. At one end sat the king, and at the other, his daughter.

His daughter?

He took his seat on one of the sides. His friends, unidentifiable to him now, all greeted him excitedly.

Another man entered the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve been thinking about that offer made by those merchants from The Nest. I know I have a little bit of bias, since I’m from there, but I really do think--“

“Phil, please,” the king had interrupted, looking at him with an almost playful annoyance. “At least eat some dinner first. There’s always a seat saved for you, so take it.” The sincerity in his voice was something that Mariana couldn’t help but cling onto. The back of his mind knew that this was a dream, that the sincere remarks were long gone.

Phil sighed, placed a few sheets of paper on the corner of the table, and sat down. “Alright, alright. It has been a bit since I’ve spent time with the kids.”

“We like having you around,” The one next to him said. The girl next to him, always attached to his hip, nodded along. “Have dinner with us every night.”

The king gave a slightly pointed look to him. The girl next to him added a quick “Please.”

Phil beamed at them. “So long as you eat all your vegetables, Cellbit.”

Cellbit.

Cellbit and Bagi.

Suddenly, he wasn’t in the comfort of the dining table anymore. His friends were gone, the only person remaining being the same child that Phil had referred to as Cellbit.

He stilled as Mariana asked him why there were two extra beds here. Instead of answering as Mariana remembered, he just stared at the bed with wide eyes. And continued, unmoving, until Mariana awoke.

Of course he could remember as soon as Bagi had left. Fuck.

He saw Charlie next to his side, and, not really thinking, he shook him awake. Charlie opened an eye before mumbling out, “What?”

“We need to go back.”

Charlie looked thoroughly confused. “…No.”

“Her brother. Her brother is Cellbit.” His voice sounded almost panicked, as if one of them would disappear if they didn’t turn around within the next minute.

A few different microexpressions flashed across Charlie’s face. “Then she’s headed to the right place.”

“There are so many people there. There’s no way--“

Charlie sat up and put his hands on Mariana’s shoulders, expression stern. “Your safety is on the line, and for us, that’s much more important. We’re not going back.”

Mariana fell silent, slowly realizing that arguing would get him nowhere. It was true, going back could get the both of them caught. But Mariana could help her, for once in his life he could have done something good for someone.

He pulled himself out of Charlie’s grip and turned around, lying back down and staring at the wall as if it had offended him personally. He stayed like this for the rest of the night, sleep deciding to evade him once again.

Chapter Text

The wooden interior of the wagon was starting to get a bit tiring to look at. It was already quite drab to begin with, the only features of note being the underwhelming amount of storage inside. Being unable to leave for so long wasn’t helping, either. Because they had made that trip for Bagi, spending precious time off of their intended route, Charlie thought it best to go a day or two without stopping to make sure those two hunters sent by the king couldn’t catch up.

The only thing keeping Mariana smiling was Charlie’s presence, along with his promise that they would be able to make another stop soon, and for much longer this time.

For now though, it was just him lying down, quietly watching the wall, as if it would start moving if he waited long enough.

Scratch that, he was bored. He stood up.

He walked aimlessly in circles for a few minutes. He could feel Charlie’s eyes on him as he did. He tried to ignore that. Unsuccessfully.

Eventually, he sat back down by Charlie’s side and threw his head back dramatically, letting it lightly thunk against the wall behind them. “I’m bored,” He announced, stating the obvious.

Charlie laughed. “Well, what kept you busy back when you lived in the castle?”

“When I wasn’t forced to listen to lectures from tutors and advisors? I’d usually take walks outside. See how far the guards would let me go.”

“Always wanted to leave, huh?” Mariana shrugged. “And, when they brought you back? What then?”

“Whatever I felt like, I dunno. Sometimes reading, sometimes cooking…” Sometimes lying in his bed for hours, in a dissociative state, waiting for the hours to pass until he was called for dinner, returning him to a state of normalcy and schedule. He may have despised being forced into the same things over and over again, but at least it was something. He hated nothingness. “How do you cope with the silence, when you travel like this?”

“It’s something you get used to, being alone a lot. When I was younger, I’d just pretend that I was somewhere else. Use my imagination.” Charlie had pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “I never really grew out of that. I still come up with the stupidest little things to pass the time.” There was a fondness to his words, and he smiled near the end. Mariana liked his smile.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Charlie darted his eyes away for a moment before looking at him. “That,” He said, bringing an index finger up to point at Mariana before he put the tip to his own forehead, “is between me and my brain.”

Mariana pouted, feigning disappointment. “Oh, I see.” He turned away and crossed his arms. “You don’t trust me.”

“What?” Charlie deadpanned.

“No, no, it’s fine.” He waved one hand in dismissal. “I get it. You hate me.”

It took Charlie a second to chuckle, giving Mariana’s shoulder a light shove before standing up. “Fuck off.”

“No thanks,” He said, following right behind, even if there wasn’t really any point to doing so. “I’d rather--“ Charlie stopped, and Mariana wasn’t paying enough attention to do the same in time. He tripped, falling for a fraction of a moment before being caught by an arm wrapped around him.

He and Charlie were face to face now, similar to how they had been when they had first met. Except, this time, it felt like they were a lot.. closer.

“You really are clumsy, huh?” Charlie spoke in a soft mumble that would probably resonate in Mariana’s head for the rest of his life. His breath was warm--Mariana hadn’t realized his face had been cold until the heat had suddenly overtaken it.

“Ah.. S-si.” He surprised himself with even being able to stutter out that much.

God, he had only known this man for a week at maximum, how did he manage to leave him so vulnerable?

He couldn’t feel half his body anymore, and didn’t realize that his reflex had been to grab onto something. Or, to put it simply, his arms had wrapped themselves around Charlie’s neck. So, in his attempt to step away and regain independent balance, he pulled Charlie’s head forward, resulting in the closest call mankind had ever witnessed.

He finally managed to properly push Charlie away, perhaps a bit harder than he meant to, and put his hands behind his back to prevent them from doing anything else stupid.

Charlie blinked. “Huh.” He then turned on his heel and went back to doing whatever he was going to do before. That.

He seemed completely unphased. Not a word was said about the whole thing, Charlie acted no different than he was before. Mariana almost wanted to call it out, but he didn’t want to know how awkward a conversation like that could become. So he kept quiet. Unusually quiet, maybe.

Surely, his increased heartrate wasn’t permanent. Surely, the feelings swirling around in his chest would simmer back down by tomorrow. Surely, his brain would learn how to regulate emotion and be able to be in proximity with Charlie without losing it.

Though, actually--

It wasn’t a horrible feeling. The warmth in his cheeks was comfortable, the memory of Charlie’s eyes and lips so close to his made him hold back a grin.

Maybe, he wouldn’t mind if that never went away.

The king’s mind was an enigma to Quackity. To be completley honest, he had thought the man was a tad bit strange even when he was a child, before everything went wrong.

When he was first brought to the castle, it was, apparently, because his father was on trial and his mother was dead. It was what he had been told later on, and the concept was supported by the fact that all of the other children that had been taken under the castle’s wings were those belonging to criminals. At first, most were afraid. Their parents were being punished, locked away or sent to be executed, so it was logical to believe that they’d be looked down upon.

Quackity remembered being lined up, two other kids on either side of him, more to their sides, and so on. One of them tried to talk to him, but he didn’t even do so much as look at them. To this day, he couldn’t tell you which one it was that had asked for his name. He thought he was going to die, really. He had seen the way his father, usually defiant and aggresive, was forced to walk in a line, completely silenced. It had been a few days since then, there were no signs of his father coming back. He figured the same was about to happen to him.

When a man walked in the room, the first thing he noticed was his crown, adorned with jewels that he had never seen, despite the fact that they were his dad’s favorite thing to steal. They were polished and shiny, too, expensive.

The second thing he noticed was how everyone else in the room bowed their heads. Reluctantly, Quackity did the same. He heard a few sets of footsteps that stopped further away from where they had begun, before a voice.

“Please, children, there’s no need for all of this. Lift your heads.” 

Quackity nearly shot up, just so that he could gauge his surroundings again. The guards had left the room. It was just him, the other kids, and the man in the crown (who had sat down in the one chair in the room--it was cushioned, bejeweled, by far the fanciest seat Quackity had ever seen).

“Why don’t you all tell me your names?” He asked, displaying a welcoming grin that didn’t disappear in the silence that followed, even if it did falter for a moment. “..If you’re scared, that’s alright. I’m your king, but as long as you’re in my care, you may refer to me as Cucurucho.”

Quackity couldn’t say who spoke up first, he hadn’t been paying attention to the introductions at the time. Everything was a blur until he finally got to sit down and eat. He didn’t realize how much time he’d go on to spend with all of these people at the time, he had been living life day by day up until that point. He figured he’d be sent off somewhere else, as per usual, constantly moving.

But they all stayed there for over a year. He made friends. Got to know the king’s daughter.

She was quiet and reserved. Her hair was a pale white like her father’s, although unlike him the color spread even to her eyelashes and brows. Her eyes were a reddish purple hue he had never seen before.

Every part of her appearance proved the fact that she was special, and deserved to be treated with care. She rarely went outside, opting to sit in the study all day, taking a new book off the shelf each day and holding the text close to her face so that she could read to herself.

Once, Quackity had offered to read a book to her, since it seemed like she struggled with her eyesight. She had handed it to him and nodded. He expected a picture book, or something, since she was a couple years younger than him.

He had never seen so many words on one page.

He could see them just fine, but some of them were too advanced for him to know at his age, and she would have to correct him. She still seemed very pleased with his attempts, though, and so was her father, who had heard about it the following night and given him a present--a small basket of fruit, so sweet he couldn’t bear to eat them all in one sitting. A red silk ribbon was tied around the handle. Quackity had decided to take it, wrapping it around his wrist and keeping it.

Even when things got rough between them, he made sure that the knot was tight enough to keep it attached. He only stopped wearing it once he gave it to Tilín, hoping that it would help her in some way, hoping that the king would have some mercy on her upon seeing it.

The king had changed a lot over the years. Quackity could recall in detail the day that it started.

He still remembered how distraught Mariana’s expression was as he dragged one of the kids--his best friend at the time, long forgotten by him now it seemed--into the hallway. He still remembered slipping out of their sleeping quarters to see what had happened. He still remembered, clear as the diamond in the center of the king’s crown, the dread that filled every fiber of his being as he peered through the crack in the doorway to see Cucurucho kneeling down on the floor, sobbing.

In his arms, was the mangled body of his daughter. Her leg was still stuck under the bookshelf, occasionally Cucurucho would try to pull it out, but it seemed that his strength had given out.

Her widened eyes, which usually moved rapidly from side to side, were completely still. A crimson red stained the white of her hair and dress, making her match the velvet carpeting more than her father.

To this day, when he thought back, he could still hear the exact sound of Cucurucho’s depserate pleas for her to wake up.

But it was no use.

Hope was dead.

He hated to say it, but he couldn’t blame Cucurucho for his anger. He disagreed with what he had done, but when it came time for him to take a side, it was his over Muerte Roja’s.

Quackity was still somewhat upset that he hadn’t been the one to inherit the responsibility of the throne. He had thought that Cucurucho liked him, and that he could fit the mold well enough.

But at the end of the day, Mariana, who had been the one to inform him of her death that day, became the next prince.

Once Quackity had gone through the painstaking process of regaining the king’s trust, he could see how poor of a decision that had been. Mariana was stubborn, uninterested, and never could be satisfied. It was as if he had forgotten how lucky he was to be in this position. As if he thought that this was a worse fate than what befell Quackity and his friends.

Quackity only knew what he heard, but the complaints were pretty consistent across the guards and servants. The conversations that he overheard between Cucurucho and his colleagues only solidified his belief.

He was once stationed outside the throne room, filling in for a guard’s shift, when he heard the king lamenting about his fruitless efforts to get Mariana to do anything right. It must have been an hour-long conversation, all centered around the prince’s failures.

He remembered seeing Mariana leave the room with Cucurucho’s hand latched onto his shoulder, ensuring that he took the exact path that the king wanted him to. Apparently, Mariana had been present for their entire conversation, and hadn’t said a word. Quackity almost felt bad for him.

Quackity had almost expected for Cucurucho to find another replacement when the prince had run away. Unfortunately, he was very adamant about Mariana returning.

He supposed it was a bit too late to find someone new.

And, maybe, there was something rooted deep within Cucurucho that didn’t want to let another one go. The princess had been very dear to him, after all, and even if Mariana didn’t fill her role well, he still was the prince.

No matter how much Mariana denied it, or how much Quackity wished it wasn’t true, Mariana was the rightful heir to the throne.

Quackity would ensure that he returned.

Chapter Text

The walls of the castle looked a bit different today. He ran his hand across the wall. It appeared less jagged than usual, but he couldn’t actually feel anything. His subconscious was aware that he wasn’t really there.

The lighting was soft, warm colors spilling into the room through the windows that he couldn’t even see anything out of. He didn’t recall the space outside the throne room ever being so welcoming.

As per usual, he was called to dinner. The walls morphed to fit the distinct shapes and colors of the dining room, and he was then found in his seat.

Everyone was dead silent. Blank faces staring down at empty plates.

“You don’t sit there anymore, remember?” He looked to his right, at the end of the table, where the king sat, staring at him with wide eyes and an emotionless, uncanny grin. “Go to the other end of the table.”

But, the seat was already taken. He didn’t stand up, because there was already a girl sitting there. Her head was limp on her plate, she definitely wasn’t conscious. If he really wanted, he could probably just push her off without any problems. He didn’t think that would be a very nice thing to do, though…

“Didn’t you hear me?”

There was a hand on his now. The child next thim whispered in his ear. “It’s okay, Mari. You’ll be perfect.”

He must have been half-lucid, he wasn’t sure why else he’d ask, “Who are you?”

The hand dropped. He craned his head back to look at the person’s wide eyes. He didn’t respond for a while, allowing the world to shift around them once again, everything shaking as it morphed.

The child’s face slowly changed from one of offence back to something more kind. “I’m your friend,” Was all he was offered as an answer.

They were in the garden, back when it was still growing a variety of flowers, tended with care by multiple servants.

“You’re so forgetful sometimes, it’s silly,” He said, skipping along the side of the rosebushes they passed by. Mariana mumbled out an apology, and got a light giggle in response.

His friend slowed, eventually coming to a halt. “I’m gonna miss you.”

The distance between them grew inexplicably, the ground above Mariana beginning to rise. It was then that he recognized who his dream was depicting--this wasn’t a new person, it was someone who had appeared in one of these dreams before. Someone that he must have met before, because he had also been at the foot of the bloodied bookshelf that night.

“It really was an accident.” He sounded so defeated. “I know I didn’t hafta push her, but I didn’t think.. I didn’t know…” It was then that Mariana realized he couldn’t move. Something was keeping him in place.

He watched, paralyzed, as the world darkened and shadowy hands began to obscure his vision, doing the same to his friend. They wrapped tightly around his torso and mouth and gripped at his legs. He tried to squirm, tried to scream, tried everything. But he couldn’t move.

“I’m sorry, Mari--“

“--ana?”

He flinched and opened his eyes. Charlie was in front of him, hands around Mariana’s shoulders. It was warm, much more comforting than the shadowy figures he remembered being there just moments before.

“It’s over,” Charlie assured, likely taking in Mariana’s heavy breathing and panicked expression. “Are you alright?”

Mariana put a hand to his head, a dull ache forming behind it. “Yeah. It happens.”

The vibrations of the floor beneath him shifted and the sound the wheels made changed. They weren’t on the paved road anymore.

“Seems like we’re almost ready to stop.” Charlie smiled. “Maybe some fresh air could do you some good?”

Bagi had been staring at this sheet of paper for a length of time that only God could know. There wasn’t much else to look at on this ride, the treeline had gotten quite boring.

Not to mention, she was a bit confused. Suspicious, even.

She wasn’t quite sure what Charlie had handed her at the time, she was too busied with thanking him to ask. She unfolded and read it as soon as she was able to take a seat at the inn that Fit had pointed her to. And then she reread it, to make sure the letters weren’t all scrambled, then read it again.

Right now, she was sounding out the word under her breath, reading it despite the fact that she had already memorized it days before.

”Cellbit.”

It amazed her how quickly she realized that this name was correct. This was her brother. Charlie, someone who she had happened upon via pure luck, also happened to know her brother. The person she had been looking for, scouring the island to find, for the majority of her lifetime. And it was that simple.

Cellbit lived in the capital with a husband. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t gone to find her. She wouldn’t blame him, it was hard enough for her to periodically leave Tina behind to continue her search.

She had already thought all of this through, there was no need for her to go through the whole process again. She knew about Cellbit now, and she would be able to finally meet him within the next few days.

The thing that confounded her, leaving her staring at the letters hastily scratched onto this spare sheet of paper, was Charlie. She supposed it made sense for him to be aware of Cellbit’s situation if they were friends, it was just--

Why didn’t he say anything? What could have possibly been keeping him from explaining all of these things out loud when she brought it up?

It must have had something to do with the Prince. Bagi thought it strange when neither of them brought up the fact that Mariana was the runaway prince, wanted by the crown for an incredibly high price and all. She chose not to speak up, she was afraid of coming across as threatening in any sense.

And Prince Mariana genuinely seemed to not remember anything. From what she could recall of her few interactions with him when they were younger, he was brutally honest. If he had run, that meant the king hadn’t rubbed off on him well. He wasn’t pretending.

So he didn’t remember.

But Charlie--

Oh, shit.

Charlie.

She hadn’t even considered the fact that Charlie could have been there back then, too. If she thought back to Cellbit’s old friends, ones who probably stuck by him for a while and would know those things, one came to mind that fit the profile.

Thing was, she genuinely thought that kid had died . The king hated him, even before the accident. Before she had run away, he had disappeared for days. Not even Phil knew where he went, but it was obvious that the king hadn’t lost him, all smug and such.

She hated Cucurucho’s smile.

She really wasn’t sure if she was right about Charlie’s identity. Either way, the situation was more than confusing. It was either someone who didn’t know Mariana, or someone who despised the royal family, that was choosing to transport the prince away from the castle. The best guess she had was that he was taking him to Muerte Roja. Maybe for blackmail, or something.

What did it matter, anyways?

Bagi’s mind liked to think about a lot of things that weren’t her problem. Really, what could she do now? Maybe, once she got to see Cellbit, she could ask him about it. She wasn’t sure what she’d do after that, but in her opinion, knowledge is just a nice thing to have. It had gotten her this far, after all.

The carriage stopped. Time had passed faster than she realized, and suddenly she was much more self-conscious about her appearance. Would she embarass herself? Did he even care that much anymore? Or, worse, had he forgotten that he had a sister?

…Only one way to find out!

It was nighttime when they arrived, which was why Mariana didn’t notice any change in lighting at first. When the doors opened, though, it was pretty obvious they weren’t outside anymore. The only light available came from a skinny torch that Charlie had lit.

Charlie lead him confidently, not even glancing back. Mariana’s eyes were trained on the ground, he didnt want to slip. He found that the ground got darker as he couldn’t meet Charlie’s pace.

“You’re going too fast,” He complained, voice hushed. He didn’t know if he was allowed to talk yet, Charlie hadn’t spoken a word.

Charlie stopped and glanced back, hesitating a moment before reaching out his hand. “Then speed up. I won’t let you fall.” He maintained the lower volume with a smile.

Mariana considered the fact that he had been caught in every past experience they’d had before; he could trust it. He placed his hand in Charlie’s, and they began walking again.

This was normal. A normal thing to do with friends. Definitely. He wasn’t focused on the warmth in Charlie’s hands, or how they felt against his skin. Nothing of the sort! They were just walking, slower now, to somewhere that Mariana still wasn’t quite sure of. He had assumed that “fresh air” meant “outside,” but maybe they had to lay low for a while longer. He didn’t really care anymore, this had definitely lifted his spirits enough.

Charlie’s hand stayed around his even as they approached a lightsource around the corner. Charlie flashed a grin at him before dragging him toward it.

Little blue-green lights were scattered about the cave, working together to make all of the stalagtites and stalagmites visible. Mariana gently poked at one of the walls, and the light that he was reaching for suddenly darkened and scurried away.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Mariana nodded slowly, observing the lights surrounding them in awe. The ceiling was adorned with white silky strands, lit by the colored glow at their base. He had never seen anything quite like it.

“How did you find this place?”

“I had this really big heist a few years back. Me and a couple others robbed this fancy estate, and thought we had everything planned out just fine. Turned out, one of the weakpoints wasn’t covered before because the guard had been out sick. Just our luck that she came back right when we were leaving.” The space around them twisted again and opened up, revealing a pool of water that glowed the same color as the bugs surrounding it. There were also hints of a contrasting yellow emitting from a few stray fireflies that hovered above the pond. “Pretty sure Ted got caught. I didn’t look back, if I did I’d be next.”

Mariana’s smile became faint during the small moment of silence they held. Charlie faltered for a moment before he sped up. “I ended up running for hours, only stopping once I made it into this cave. I spent a couple days in here, looking through my haul and exploring.” The dim light had gotten to be enough for Mariana to see the terrain just fine, but their hands remained interlocked. “I threw one of my coins in the water, as if it was a wishing fountain, before I left. I don’t really believe in magic or superstition, but I will admit that I’ve never gotten that close to arrest since then.”

They began to walk around the water, Charlie looming dangerously close to the edge. “Doesn’t saying your wish out loud make it stop coming true?” He wasn’t sure where he’d heard that from. Roier, probably.

“I didn’t say it explicitly.”

“Does that make a difference?”

Charlie faced him just so that Mariana could see him roll his eyes. They walked a bit further before Charlie stepped onto a higher part of the floor, helping Mariana up after the fact.

When Charlie sat down, he swung his legs over the edge so that they could dangle above the pond. Mariana joined him hesitantly, opting to sit cross-legged. Charlie halfheartedly flourished his hand as a gesture for Mariana to take the scene in. “This spot, by far, is my favorite.”

“It’s pretty,” Mariana commented, peering over into the light. He had never seen water glow before. He didn’t really know that it could do that.

“It is. So, moral of the story: Stealing is good for you.” Mariana laughed at that. It echoed across the pond and bounced off the walls, inadvertently causing the light to dim for a moment before a swift revival. For such a secretive-looking place, it definitely wouldn’t be a good place to tell one.

Charlie, somehow, didn’t seem to find these natural wonders as interesting as Mariana did. He was still watching Mariana, he could see it in his peripheral. “Y’know, you’re different from what I expected.”

”What did you expect?”

“I dunno, maybe someone who acted more spoiled. Bratty. Like all the other rich people I’ve met.” Mariana scoffed at that. Though, he supposed it was fair. All those prissy advisors who talked his ear off were nothing but annoying. “But you’re nice. And.. surprisingly trusting.” He paused, then cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at him. “Why do you trust me?”

Mariana shrugged. “You’re a friend of a friend. We’ve been spending each day and night together, you’re awake when I’m asleep, I know that you could just take my things and leave me behind if you really wanted.” His heart skipped a beat when Charlie’s hand was on his again, a show of sympathy that he nearly misinterpreted. “It might have been stupid of me at first, but I do know for a fact now that I can trust you. You’ve proven it.”

“Just took the risk first, huh?”

“Is that so unheard of? It sounds like it’s all you do.”

Charlie huffed, and the hair on Mariana’s neck stood up as he felt it. They were close. Mariana didn’t do well when they were close. His free hand began to fidget with the fabric of his cloak, sliding the hem back and forth between his index finger and his thumb.

“It keeps turning out great for me, too.” Charlie’s voice had changed. It was rougher now, and almost slurred, similar to how he would talk when he was still recovering from a state of grogginess in the morning.

Believe him, Mariana tried not to look back too much. He really wanted to focus on the active phenomenon surrounding him, something he had never witnessed and likely would never be able to witness again. But he really liked it when Charlie looked happy.

He hadn’t realized how rare the occasion was that Charlie appeared completely unbothered by the world, but perhaps something about the seclusion of this cavern helped ease the crease between his eyebrows. And surely it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to consider the idea of Mariana’s presence also attributing to his lighter mood. Because, in all fairness, Charlie wasn’t giving much attention to anything else in the area.

Mariana glanced from the pond to him quite a few times before finally speaking. “Charlie?”

Charlie straightened up, moving too fast for even himself, therefore losing grip on his torch. He sputtered as he made a few fruitless attempts to grab at it before it hit the water’s surface, sending a few droplets upwards. He stared it it a moment, then returned to his previous position, eyes a bit wider this time. “Yeah?”

It took a lot for Mariana not to laugh. He managed to collect himself enough to say, “You were staring.” He wasn’t too worried about the lost flame, Charlie seemed to know this place well.

“Was I? Shit,” Charlie wiped his palms on his pants, only now intruiged by the rest of the cave. “Uh, Sorry.”

There must have been something in the air here, Mariana didn’t think he’d ever see a day where Charlie was flustered. He always had things figured out, but something was off today.

Mariana leaned forward slightly. “Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why were you staring?”

Charlie clicked his tongue, mouth ajar for a moment before actually making any noise. “I guess you just- the lighting compliments you, it reflects in your eyes really well, and..” He was practically cringing at his own words, shoulders raised up to his chin and voice getting closer to a whisper by the second. He sighed, angling his head to be just a bit less visible to Mariana. “I mean, you’re already really pretty.”

Well, Jesus, if the lights were doing that much for him, he hoped they also canceled out the deeper pigment that had just infected his face.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that a lot, this probably isn’t anything special,” Mariana could tell that the chuckle at the end was a bit forced.

“No,” He admitted. “I’ve never even kissed anyone before.”

He had never regretted saying anything faster. Clearly, these were two things with very different severities, and Mariana was definitely mixing some of his own thoughts up with what he assumed Charlie’s were. That was quite possibly the least necessary addition to the conversation.

Charlie seemed equally caught off-guard, twisting back to look at Mariana with bewilderment. “Seriously?” Although, he didn’t seem unimpressed or disappointed, moreso just surprised at the possibility.

Okay. So it wasn’t that crazy to say, from Charlie’s perspective. Maybe they were a little more in sync than Mariana had thought. Which was an idea that made him a normal amount of excited.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone reciprocate feelings. Most people at the castle probably hated me,” He explained sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand--the other hadn’t moved from its place even after Charlie’s left it. “And I guess it wasn’t as important to find someone so soon, since lives last longer in places as nice as the castle.”

He was aware, after Roier had explained it to him, that relationships were both very important and very impulsive in the lower classes. The concept of family was adored, and many would marry the first person they took interest in. They’d die before any issues came between them, or at least before they could do anything about it. It was rather sad, and Roier had to promise him that he’d be happy with Cellbit and live for a long time before Mariana let him leave.

“You were literally the prince, though. I’d expect people to be all over you.”

Mariana scruched his nose up and grimaced. “Thank god they weren’t.”

An expression flashed across Charlie’s face for such little time that Mariana didn’t process what it was. “What do you mean?”

“They were weird,” Was the immediate response. “And I don’t want to rush into anything, you know? It’s.. big, and important.” Though maybe it didn’t matter quite as much now that he had left his title behind.

Charlie’s hand, previously next to Mariana’s, was drawn back to his own chest. “Right, yeah.” He cleared his throat and went back to watching the water. “Makes sense.”

Was he doing any of this right? It was true that he didn’t want to rush, but every time he tried to limit himself, he pushed past it. He got so deep into the habit of breaking rules that he couldn’t even keep his own. Before, he had jokingly attributed this to Roier’s enablement, but even on his own now, he was finding himself inclined to backtrack.

He had been fine beforehand because he knew that this arrangement was temporary. Charlie was to drop him off at The Nest, and they’d probably never see each other again. But as he took in Charlie’s dampened mood, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was how it needed to be. If the feeling was mutual, perhaps Mariana could actually know what it was like…

“In the sense of commitment, you know?” He could salvage it. “Roier got married in less than a year, I think I’d want to take things more slow than that. But I wouldn’t mind starting at any point.”

That got Charlie to look back. “I, uh.” Mariana didn’t say anything when he scooted slightly closer. “I like slow.”

Mariana was starting to see what Charlie was saying about the lighting. The green accent worked well with Charlie’s facial features. Especially when he could see them so clearly.

They only got closer. He and Charlie were breathing the same air, and doing so in sync. He watched as Charlie’s slitted eyes closed, and he followed suit once he felt the warmth of Charlie’s hand against his cheek. Mariana wondered if he had died on the way here, this felt more similar to heaven than Earth had ever been.

“Hey, I set up--“

Without thinking, Mariana shoved Charlie away, knocking him onto his side. He swiftly looked across the pond, at a reasonably stunned Fit, who had chosen the worst possible timing to stop by. The aforementioned man stood completely still for a few seconds, before glancing at the thumbs-up that Charlie held above himself, and then he spoke again. “Sorry. Just wanted to let you two know that we’ve got a camp set up outside now. I got a fire started, so you two can come back out for dinner whenever you’re done with…” If Mariana could flush any brighter, he’d become one of the lights in here too. “…This.”

Charlie rolled over onto his back, but made no move to sit up. “Sounds good,” He grunted out, voice strained. “We’ll be there in a minute.” Fit nodded and sped out of sight, eager as ever to leave the premises.

Mariana got onto his knees so that he could look down at Charlie. He was quick to notice the scratch on his cheek that must’ve been from a rock. He probably could have handled that better.

“Mierda, Sorry.” He worried his brows and reached out a hand to touch it, balancing himself by putting the other next to Charlie’s chest.

“Nah, it’s fine. I barely feel it.” Charlie’s face slowly morphed into a toothy grin. Mariana raised an eyebrow at the mischievous glint in his eye. “Too bad he ruined the perfect first kiss. Looks like we gotta have a shitty one now.”

Mariana couldn’t question what he meant before he was pulled down by the collar of his shirt, unceremoniously falling on top of Charlie as the arm wrapped around his neck pressed his lips onto Charlie’s. It wasn’t something he’d necessarily describe as slow, nor was it shitty. But it still took away his ability to breathe for a near-concerning amount of time.

Charlie shifted so that they both lay on their sides now, facing each other as they broke apart. Charlie’s expression hadn’t changed in the slightest, and Mariana found himself copying it as he wrapped his head around it all.

He wasn’t sure what he could say, his mind had completely emptied out. So, he wordlessly leaned in again, allowing Charlie to steal away another kiss. The lights felt brighter and even more colorful, he could have sworn they really were.

Charlie brought a few gentle pecks up to Mariana’s cheekbone before whispering, “I’m hungry. We should go eat.”

Mariana hummed, eyes remaining shut until he felt Charlie’s body heat escaping from him. He missed it already. He chased after it, following close behind Charlie as they exited. The campfire that the trio sat around paled in comparison to it, so Mariana wrapped himself around Charlie once he finished eating.

And that would be where he would stay as he fell asleep once again. For the first time in weeks, there was no castle. There was no king, no death, no hauntingly familiar faces without names.

Just the peace and quiet of nothingness.

Chapter Text

Sunny was so tired. She couldn’t say for sure, but she was almost certain she hadn’t slept for days. Every time she got close, something new happened to jolt her awake. On this occasion, it was a scream. It tore through the air and made her ears involuntarily strain and her palms cover them.

It wouldn’t stop, it was completely uncontrollable. She wanted it to end, for her ears to be given time to recover, but it couldn’t. She couldn’t.

Oh. It was her that was screaming.

Her voice broke and stuttered into silence. All that was left for her to hear was her own heavy breathing along with the fading ringing in her ears. She pulled on her hair in an attempt to ground herself, but it really only ended up hurting a little.

She had promised Flippa that she wouldn’t cry, but unfortunately, water had found its way into her eyes again. It dripped into her mouth and made her taste salt. She had always preferred sweet.

She felt something poke at her shoulder, and, fearing that it was one of those masked men, she ran. Or at least tried to, before an arm was wrapped around her torso, holding her back.

“Sunny,” rather than ‘twenty-three.’ Maybe it wasn’t them. “Pull yourself together. They’re gone.”

She practically went limp when she let her body relax. She turned her head back to see that Juanaflippa was there again, looking both disappointed and sympathetic.

“C’mon, it’s ‘bout time you get something to eat,” She said, forcibly shifting Sunny’s bodyweight back so that she would have to hold herself up now. Sunny smiled softly when Juana took her hand. Flippa was the only one here who didn’t seem too shy to do things like that, Sunny was glad. Her pa wasn’t here to hold her hand, but at least her new friend was.

When they began to walk, though, Sunny had some trouble going in a straight line. Her eyelids drooped and her brain begged her to lie down. “But I’m so tired.. I just wanna go back to our room.”

“You’ll complain about being hungry when you wake up,” Juana said. Sunny wanted to object, but it was probably true. “And they only keep dinner out for so long.”

Sunny hummed, as she lost the will to use words anymore.

She wondered how her father was doing. He was probably looking for her, but not even she knew where she was. Not like she’d be able to contact him, anyways.

Maybe he was eating dinner right now, like her. Maybe he was being forced to do stuff, like her. Maybe he missed her, like she missed him.

She sat down. It looked like most of the kids were in the middle of eating. She wouldn’t be surprised if they had forgotten about her existence for the majority of this meal, before Flippa remembered. But that was just speculation. She wasn’t going to try asking about it. This time was for eating, no one wanted to waste it on chatting. Her throat was kind of dry anyways.

She cleaned her plate completely, no scrap was left behind. She was one of the first to finish despite the fact that she was late, and if she didn’t know any better, she would have asked for seconds.

It was probably the worst meal she’d ever had.

And that’s how it went down here. It was equally comforting as it was terrifying that she was already adjusting well to her new schedule.

Would it be just as hard to return to her normal life? If that was a possibility, at least. She hoped that if she was rescued, that the others would come with her. She had grown attached to Juanaflipppa. Sunny would love for Juana to meet her pa.

Did Juana have her own pa? Was he just as cool? If so, Sunny would love to meet him. Maybe, since all their parents seemed to be connected in some way, their parents knew each other.

When they were walking back to their room, hand in hand once again, Sunny asked. “Do you have a dad?”

Juanaflippa stopped. She narrowed her eyes at the floor, before continuing again, picking up the pace. “Doesn’t matter.”

Sunny tilted her head to the side. “Why not? Dads are the best!” She’d know from firsthand experience with one.

“I know, it’s just..” Flippa hesitated at the door before twisting the golden knob (always cleaner than they were) and bringing them in. “It’s hard to talk about.”

“I think it’s good to talk about, even if it makes you sad. I’m making sure I never forget about mine by talking about him,” She said with a grin. Sure, it was bittersweet, but if she closed her eyes really, really tight, sometimes she could imagine that he was still there. Just for a minute or so.

Flippa pondered for a few minutes before sighing. “Alright, I’ll tell you a little bit. Just until you fall asleep.” Sunny clapped her hands excitedly. She loved bedtime stories!

Flippa directed her to Sunny’s mattress. Sunny laid down with Flippa sitting cross-legged by her side, bringing her blanket over her torso and tucking her in like her pa used to. Maybe not as effectively, but Sunny was not one to complain in such circumstances.

“Before my dad, I had other parents. They did some bad things, and so they got taken by guards.” Sunny audibly gasped. That sounded scary. Juana was so brave. “I never did anything wrong, so the king sent me somewhere else--Muerte Roja. I was really scared, ‘cause I didn’t know anybody anymore. All the adults would try ‘n’ talk to me, but- I dunno, I didn’t really like how they acted. It was, um..” She put a finger to her chin in contemplation. “Pity.”

“But then, one day, someone else came into town.” A grin had taken over her face. She began giggling before her next sentence had even begun. “And when he stepped out of his carriage, he tripped and fell right on his face.” Sunny joined in. It was silly, but she was mostly just glad that Juana was smiling. She didn’t think she’d ever seen that before.

“His name is Charlie. He’s different, just like I am, which was why he took me in. And…” She trailed off, zoning out for a minute or so. “He was the best. I miss him. But I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”

Sunny pouted at that. “I’m not asleep yet!”

“You’re close enough,” Flippa said, blowing out a candle and making the room go impossibly dim. “Good night.”

“You’re lame,” She whined, getting a laugh out of Flippa. “Good night. I hope you have salty dreams.”

“…salty?”

“Yeah. You don’t get sweet dreams tonight.”

“Why do you get to decide that?” She heard some rustling from the opposite end of the room, Juana was getting comfortable.

“‘Cause I do.”

She heard Flippa take in a breath to say something else, but she seemingly decided against it. “Go to sleep.“

Reluctantly, Sunny complied.

God, how weird would this have been if they hadn’t kissed a few days prior?

The crate looked so much bigger than it really was. Mariana had long since given up on personal space, opting for laying on top of Charlie as they waited for the inevitable sounds of guards entering the wagon.

“It’s usually just me in here, sorry it’s a bit cramped,” Charlie said, keeping his voice low. His hands were wrapped around a handle placed on the bottom of the lid, in case anyone tried to pry it off.

“I don’t mind,” He said, a little too fast for even his own liking. “You’re warm. It’s nice.” Charlie planted a kiss on his cheek. Mariana wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to that.

The door creaked open, and Mariana began to hold his breath. The sound of the footsteps outside were muffled, but he could unfortunately still hear them. That meant that they’d be able to hear any noise that went the other way.

The steps got closer, stopping in front of them. The top shifted slightly before Charlie lifted the both of them up, relying on their body weight to keep it shut. Mariana felt too weak to move, dreading the possibility of the guards uncovering them. Charlie had a backup plan, right? They’d end up alright. He trusted Charlie.

“Careful with that one,” Fit’s voice came through and allowed Charlie to relax. The worst was over, then. “The rest are safe, but..” There were a few beats of silence before the walking started up again. Fit must have handed them that letter.

It felt like an eternity, one that just kept getting warmer with how limited the air circulation was. But eventually, the doors closed, and they were moving once more. Charlie practically threw the lid off, flooding their vision with dimmed daylight (much brighter than the pitch black they had been previously subjected to, in all fairness) and allowing them to gasp in the fresh air they’d been missing.

Charlie moved to get up, but Mariana still felt weak. Sure, he trusted that things would go well, but being so close to discovery had given him a panic attack and a half.

“You alright?”

Mariana angled his head slightly to allow Charlie into his peripheral. “No se.”

A hand found its way into his hair, brushing along the lines that each strand formed. Mariana melted into the touch, as he always did, longing for an eternity of this warmth.

Was he being too much?

Nevermind that. Those thoughts were reserved only for his mind, he wouldn’t scare Charlie off if he never voiced them.

Charlie sighed into his next sentence. “This might be a bad time, but I do have something.. to ask.”

Mariana hummed, prompting him to continue.

“When we get there, I think it would be best if we just pretended…” Mariana felt the chest beneath him rise slowly, and take a moment too long to fall. “..Pretended like we aren’t, uh…” Charlie couldn’t seem to finish his sentence.

“Together?” Mariana finished for him, only hoping that the answer would be ‘no.’

“Yeah.”

Ah.

“They might make weird assumptions, or judge me, is all.” Mariana frowned. He understood, he supposed. The ex-prince probably wasn’t very celebrated in these parts. Charlie wasn’t often someone who cared what others thought, but it seemed that these people were the exception. “And, again, we won’t be there long. A week at most.”

Despite his persistent weakness, Mariana found it in himself to move, first propping himself up onto his hands. The action broke their chests apart and made Charlie’s hands slip out of his hair. “That’s fine, I get it.”

He didn’t really feel all that fine, though. It shouldn’t bother him, it was a reasonable thing to request.

This could be an excuse. He probably regretted kissing him, and was starting to push away.

Hesitantly, Mariana stood up and swung his leg over the box’s wall, escaping the claustrophobic space just so that he could take up a slightly less cramped area.

Mariana only responded to touch. It was the only thing he could manage to reciprocate, because it was all he craved. Every time Charlie complimented him, he became too flustered to respond. That wasn’t how things like this were supposed to be.

Charlie followed after him, Mariana could only tell by the noise, he’d prefer to stare at the ground for now.

That was, until Charlie got ahead of him and grabbed the collar of his shirt (which, strangely enough, was becoming a bit of a habit). He ensured that proper eye contact was made before speaking. God, his eyes were mesmerizing. “Don’t worry, we’ll be able to make up for lost time on our way to The Nest. And…” He paused, pushing his lips into a thin line.

His gaze wandered. “And?” Mariana prodded, leaning forward just slightly, barely consciously.

“Nevermind. I’ll save that for later.” Mariana raised an eyebrow, but his suspicions became something distant and unimportant when Charlie closed the remaining distance between them.

Charlie’s other hand rested comfortably against his waist, as it always did when they kissed. Mariana wouldn’t be surprised if he’d get a dent in his back after a few years of this.

Years… Would they be together that long? He hoped so. And if Roier’s description of relationships in the lower classes was accurate, perhaps Charlie made the feeling mutual. He grinned at the thought of it. Living in The Nest with Charlie made their destination sound much more appealing.

A knock on the wall interrupted their moment, pulling Charlie away from him for what he prayed wouldn’t actually stretch out into a week. Charlie moved to Mariana’s side, squeezing his hand once before releasing it.

“I’ll do most of the talking, but every word that you say has to hold some kind of distaste for the king,” he whispered loudly, “I don’t want anything to happen to you, so you’re gonna stay with me the whole time we’re here.” As if Mariana would even want to go off on his own.

The door opened, Mariana’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the sunlight spilling itself across the horizon before he could see the two people before them, one being his coachman and the other being a stranger.

“Phil’s been wondering where you went,” the latter said, sparing Mariana no more than a glance.

“Here I am,” Charlie spread his arms out as if to offer a hug, stepping off of their transport and onto the dirt beneath them. “And I brought a friend.”

The stranger crossed his arms. “A friend?”

Charlie took one more step closer. “A friend.” A period of silence was held between the two, along with a short staring contest, the unknown person nothing but skeptical. “One that I think Phil would love to meet. So, if you’ll excuse us--“

“Phil’s not in.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged. “Tubbo called for him. He’s in The Nest right now, it will be a few days before he is back.”

Hesitantly, Mariana exited the wagon, failing at his attempt to hide behind Charlie due to the height he had over him. Hunching his back until it was uncomfortable was the best he could do.

Charlie inhaled deeply. “Is anyone else out?”

“Foolish.”

Mariana recognized that one. It took him a moment, as he was preoccupied with trying to remember why he knew the name Tubbo, but now all of the puzzle pieces fit. Tubbo and Foolish ran FOBO--Foolish was that representative that he had needlessly crushed on whilst he was there. And Phil… He had met Phil before, hadn’t he? Years back, when Phil had worked for the king. He had been just a kid at the time, so he wasn’t involved enough to know more than that…

“Shit, alright. Let’s go.” Charlie gestured for Mariana to follow him with the motion of his head, and Mariana did so. He could hear two pairs of footsteps trailing behind them--Fit would be staying a few nights, apparently. They’d help unpack all of their supplies from the wagon tomorrow morning, and then later he would be on his way. Someone else had to take them to their last location, Fit had insisted that The Nest's guards were very keen on trying to get him in trouble. “With everyone that you need gone, we’ll be stuck waiting here for a while.” Mariana suppressed his frown.

“Waiting isn’t safe,” the voice behind him insisted. “Knowing you, you have guards trailing behind you.”

“We can hide them.” Mariana tried not to jolt too noticeably at the jumpscare of another presence, but alas. He turned to see a woman that had joined in on their walk, uneven pink hair standing out against all else. “We’ve done it before.”

“Fucked up before, too.”

“Do we have any other choice?” Charlie asked, stopping to turn around and look past Mariana, at his other friends.

They were quiet at that. Charlie continued walking, leading the group. Mariana took the time to get a better feel for his surroundings.

The place was run-down. Most of the infrastructure was precariously placed sticks that held up tarps as shade. Few buildings were in the area, if they could be called that. It seemed like they were only now starting to settle in, some bricks stacking up around one large tent at the end of the dirt road that they walked along. Charlie led them into one tent a few meters down, not much different from the others that surrounded it. The dip of the fabric ceiling was much more noticeable on the interior, especialy for Mariana, who wasn’t sure if he would be able to fit under the lowest point.

“You guys need anything else?”

Sticking to Charlie’s side again, Mariana watched as the other two glanced at each other and shrugged. The man left first, but the woman stayed a moment. “What will you do in the meantime?”

“We are being followed. I’ll prepare for the worst-case, but hope that Phil’s horses are faster than Quackity’s.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Good luck with that,” she said, before walking away.

“Who are they?” Mariana asked in a low voice, unsure of how far away they had gotten. There wasn’t much noise cancellation around here, he could still hear the wind outside. He felt a bit of the chill from it, too, as he hadn’t distanced himself far from the entrance.

“Carre does some minor bounty hunting when he’s asked to, Baghera’s another thief. Both major offenders to the crown, which is why they live here. And why we get along.” Charlie kicked the dirt beneath him once before walking further into the tent, where a torn mattress had been thrown onto the floor. The sheets over it were tattered and dirtied, haphazardly tossed on the lower half of the sorry excuse for a bed. “You can rest here all you want, I’ll survive a couple nights on the floor.”

Mariana was about to thank him, but he didn’t like the idea of Charlie having nothing but dirt to serve as his pillow. “Can’t we share?”

Charlie sat himself down on the ground. “I don’t like the idea of someone coming in to wake me up and seeing that.”

“..Okay.”

Now wasn’t the time to complain. As much as he wanted to-- constantly- -he always bit his instinctual remarks back. He wasn’t in the castle anymore, he had no power, and this was his one chance for freedom.

Charlie pursed his lips into a strained smile. “I’ll get us a nice place in The Nest, I promise.”

Mariana took a moment to register the sentiment. "Us?" A shared settlement? God, that sounded nice. As much as he hated his lack of privacy at the castle, he wasn't sure if being all alone was any good either.

“I mean, if- if we’re…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I plan on staying a little while, at least.”

Mariana wasn’t quite sure what to think of that. It kept him from formulating a response, instead he stayed silent for a while as Charlie traveled off into his own little world, as he would usually to pass the time. It wasn’t a peaceful daydream, Mariana knew that based on the crease between the man's brows.

Mariana let himself fall back against the matress. It didn't do much for relaxation's sake, the object beneath him wasn't clean, nor was it comfortable. Again, he would not complain, not out loud. But if Charlie was to leave him to his thoughts and nothing else, then he would definitely be complaining mentally. He'd complain himself to sleep, while he was at it, and keep complaining in his dreams.

He didn't know what happened in Charlie's mind, and he doubted he ever would if those walls stayed so sturdy for so long. Not like he cared. It seemed like Charlie planned on leaving once this was all over, anyways, and if not then he was on the fence about it. Mariana knew it was his own fault for saying that he'd want to take the commitment to their relationship slow; what a hypocritical man he was.

Surely some rest would do him some good, despite the fact that he hadn't had any dinner. Surely.

If only he had an off switch for his brain, then he would have actually managed to fall asleep.

It was dark when he finally gave up, though it had been dark for ages. He was far too restless and wasting his chance to walk around freely. Charlie had told him not to leave his side, but it wasn't like anyone else was up anyways. So, he snuck away, as he always would back at the castle. He wasn't very fond of that juxtaposition, if he was being completely honest, but he luckily had a wonderful hack to fix all of the problems he faced that were like these: ignorance.

The air was cool, though he already knew that in advance because the wind liked to blow it into the tent he was staying in. The sky was cloudy, masking nothing but the stars. The only sounds he heard were the occasional ambient hoots from an owl and his own footsteps exploring the land.

The tents on this side of the road all served as living quarters, he noticed. Some were empty, others had the sleeping forms of the people he had spoken to earlier today. Only six tents of this variety existed, not many people inhabited this land. He crossed over to peek into the other ones. One was food storage, another had medical items, it's neighbor was filled with weapons that must have been stolen and smuggled in if the Kingdom Guard seal told him anything. None of them looked used, some were rusting.

At the end of the road, there was another that ran perpendicular to it. This was where he had arrived in Muerte Roja, the wagon was still parked in the same spot. It would be leaving the same way it came, and then Charlie and Mariana would be taking the route opposite to Fit's.

Envisioning entering the city with the highest bounty on his head was quite possibly the worst thing he could have done to calm his anxieties. He attempted to backtrack, reassuring himself that it would be a nice place to stay, he could live with luxuries similar to the castle's there. As soon as he got settled in, everything would be normal. If he got settled in.

He sighed and walked over to the wagon, pulling open one of the doors so that he could sit on the floor of it. He glanced inside and found that it was already noticeably emptier than before. Two barrels were missing. Mariana squinted to search for them outside, discovering that they had been carried down the road, to where he assumed their next transport would arrive for them.

...Mariana hadn't been very helpful in his own escape, he realized. So much of the work had been done for him, and he wasn't entirely sure he had ever given Fit or Charlie a sincere 'thank you.' This was as good a chance as any to prove his own worth, was it not? Even if it was a relatively small act that they would be able to do fine without him, it was still something.

He stood up and started by gathering some smaller items. He carried them in handfulls and set them atop the barrels' tops until he ran out of room. Then he brought one of the lightweight crates out to use as another surface. He continued, warming himself up for the heavier objects until--

He found a piece of paper, sandwiched between two planks of wood that made up a crate, folded neatly into three sections as if it were to be placed into an envelope. Sleep deprived and far too curious for his own good, he carefully removed it from it's place and opened it up. He wasn't usually one to pry (he was), but today had not been treating him well enough for him to care about the possible consequences just yet.

He was, somehow, rewarded for his actions. This... was addressed to him. And Mariana recognized the handwriting.

Roier had written this.

The first few sentences were a strong start.

'I hope that you find this before he does. I hid it because I don't know if you can trust Charlie with this. Or with anything. He can get you out of the city alright, but after that, you should run on your own.'

Mariana slowly lowered himself to the ground as he read. He took his time, restarting each time he thought he misread or misunderstood. He never did.

'The king kept a lot of people from you because he worried about their influence. Charlie was in that group, he worked for the king. I know he's probably talked bad about the castle, so it's a hard thing to believe, but I swear to you that I saw him. He was always with the bounty hunters. Always. I think he was one of them.'

Mariana wasn't sure which part of the letter got his heartrate to spike the worst.

'Cellbit said Charlie left because he hated the job, but he never said that Charlie wasn't planning on turning you in. I tried to ask him and he avoided giving a real answer. He knows he can't lie to me.'

Cellbit had helped house him for a full night, and the whole time he had expected for it to mean nothing? Mariana found that hard to believe. He also found it hard to discredit his best friend's words, though. His friend's words, that he had written in a letter, rather than tried to tell him in person...

'Because of that, I do know for a fact that Charlie hates your father. So there are two possibilities: He is hiding you out of spite, or he is using you as leverage. Your father probably has something that he wants. If I had to guess,'

Mariana's head snapped up. There were footsteps outside. There were footsteps outside, and he had left traces of exactly where he was. And of course he left his coat back inside, why wouldn't he have?

He settled for the next best option that his brain could think of in the few moments he had, and folded it up so that he could sit on top of it without it being noticed. He wasn't letting this leave his side until he finished reading. And once he finished reading, it was going to be destroyed. Soaked in a river, torn to bits, tossed into a fire--whatever he could do to make sure Charlie didn't see it.

‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear’ was something he’d heard from the king on many occasions upon entering the throne room. He found himself repeating it under his breath as Charlie’s head poked around the empty space that the door left for him.

"Hey," he greeted, groggily helping himself up as Mariana grumbled something akin to a response. "Is this place really more comfortable than my tent?"

"Oh, I'm not trying to sleep. I gave up on that." Charlie was looking at him, watching as he blatantly avoided eye contact by staring downward. He felt so obvious, so vulnerable, so unprepared. "I was moving things out. I'm taking a quick break right now."

Charlie hummed as he squatted down next to Mariana. "No one asked you to do that," Charlie said, Mariana catching a smile out of the corner of his eye. "It's nice, but.. I think we both need to take this time to rest. You've been so insistent on getting me to sleep more, it's a little unfair for you to stay up all night now."

Mariana huffed out a breath. "I guess so." Why did he care? Why was he awake? Was this the night he'd meet with some official and turn him in?

Or, was Roier wrong?

"Hey, look at me." The motion was artificial, he felt like one of those toy soldiers he'd been gifted when he was a child with the way his head turned so sporadically. The look in Charlie's eyes was strangely distant as he spoke. "I know this whole thing's stressful, but it's almost over. We'll never have to worry about the crown ever again. You're gonna be safe, I'll make sure of it."

Mariana wanted so badly to believe him. But it almost felt like the sentiment wasn't meant for him, with the way that Charlie's gaze passed right through him. "Okay," he said, because what else could he possibly say?

Charlie took Mariana's hand as he stood up, ready to lead him out. But he was still watching. He would see the letter before Mariana even got on his feet. There wasn't any good reaction he could imagine to reading those words.

"I'll be right behind you," Mariana tried.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "I want to hold your hand." The way he said it would have been endearing if it weren't for the immense amount of panic that Mariana was currently experiencing. "C'mon."

Charlie pulled back hard enough that it was difficult for Mariana to stay in place, so he just silently prayed that he served as enough cover to hide it. It didn't matter when Charlie put one hand on his back to guide him out, his eyes trailing behind and viewing the empty space. Mariana knew the moment that Charlie saw it, each motion beside him completely stilling. Charlie looked up at him before walking back to retrieve it.

"It's- that's not important, it's just a letter from Roier, I was..." That didn't stop Charlie from picking it up. "Ey, man, that's fucking private!" He tried to put a hand in front of the now opened paper to prevent Charlie from seeing the words, but ended up with a hand around his wrist. Charlie's grip was intense, anchoring him in place so that he no longer had the option of running away. Mariana's attempts to loosen the hold with his free hand were fruitless.

Charlie read with furrowed eyebrows, eyes skimming over each line swiftly. His expression didn't change as he looked up at Mariana. "Did you find this just now?"

Mariana's jaw tightened. He nodded.

"You read the whole thing?"

It was better to say no, right? He wasn't sure what else was in there, maybe Roier put a little 'just kidding!' at the end (if only), or maybe it got sickeningly worse. He shook his head.

Charlie let go of his hand and folded the paper in half. Then, into fourths. "Good." Mariana flinched at the sound of the paper being torn, and gasped lightly at the sight. "It's all bullshit, anyways."

Mariana opened his mouth, but no sound escaped his lips. Charlie put the shreds of paper into his shirt pocket, likely to dispose of them personally later. He then took Mariana's hand in his again, rather forcefully, and dragged him along. "You don't believe any of that, do you?"

He had to choose his words carefully. "I believe that you hate the king." Charlie's figure relaxed a bit at that. "But I.. I wish that you weren't so reservado, I don't know anything that you're doing and it makes me worry."

He wasn't very fond of the way that his hand's restriction grew uncomfortable. Like if he even considered calling out one of Charlie's questionable acts, it would be the wrong move. It felt like a warning. For what, he wasn't sure, Charlie had never been mad at him before.

"I'm taking you to The Nest and then getting my reward: your gold. There's nothing else to it. What else could you possibly need to know?"

"You talked to Cellbit alone."

"About how long we could stay. That's it."

Mariana prepared another instance, thinking back to their conversation in the cave and the fact that Charlie told him how he had left behind his friends before to escape his own capture. He himself had said that he didn't look back, didn't even attempt to help them.

This became less of a concern when he heard the distinct cry of a horse in the distance. It came from the same direction that they entered in from. The way that Charlie's face fell only proved Mariana's initial thought: This wasn't Phil.

He was shoved against the nearest wall, Charlie ensuring that all attention was on him before he began to whisper. "I need you to do exactly as I say. I need you to trust me, at least for the night, before we get this all sorted out. Okay? You trust me more than you trust them?"

Mariana tried to ignore the way his hands trembled. "You're going to make a deal with them," he whispered back. "They're gonna offer more than I did." He slumped over, about ready to collapse under the weight of the trap he found himself in. Even Roier was destined to leave him behind. Mariana was meant to forever be a lonely prince, it was foolish for him to attempt to escape it. Charlie was going to let him go, just like everyone else did. How stupid could someone be to believe that someone they've known for no more than a few weeks would fully be on their side? That they'd risk their own capture for him despite never doing such a thing before?

"Mariana, you're being irrational," he hissed out. "I need you to run and find Baghera or Carre. Wake them up and tell them that Quackity and Etoiles are here. One of them will take you to a place to hide. You are going to stay there, completely silent, until I come get you. Understood?"

He didn't have a choice. It wasn't like he could outrun a fucking horse, after all. It wasn't that he regained any trust in Charlie, it was that he had nowhere else to go. That was essentially why he had followed the thief in the first place, out of desperation.

"I'm not letting them take you away from me, especially not when we've gotten this far." Finally, a sentence with an inkling of sencerity. "I can't afford to lose you." Although Mariana almost laughed at that.

What, in the same way he couldn't afford an actual bed? The same way he couldn't afford a proper carriage? Charlie had nothing to his name. Nothing to lose. And everything to gain. Mariana thought that his gold was enough to sway him, but the chances that the king had offered an even higher reward weren't slim.

The pressure that Charlie's palm was putting on his chest lessened. "You are insufferable to work with, really." He muttered. "Please, just go. Quickly."

Despite his predisposition, he complied. He made a beeline for the nearest tent, where Baghera was sound asleep, and knelt down by her side. He wasted no time in prodding her shoulder, jolting her awake. She somehow managed to find the words before he did. "Guards? Hunters?" He just nodded. She reached through the crevice between the wall and her mattress and pulled out a spear. "Follow me."

He was rushed into the half-built structure at the end of the road, green tarp making up half of the ceiling and walls. The flooring was made up of wooden planks. Baghera kicked at several locations in the floor before finding a spot that came out with a different sound. She felt around the planks before discovering one that allowed her to pry it up, connected to a group of other boards that went up with it. Mariana stared down into the hole revealed beneath it. There was no ladder down, which meant that there was no ladder up. That wasn't ideal for him.

Still, he jumped down. The ceiling above him was promptly shut back up, covering his world in complete darkness. It was more spacious than the crate he had been in earlier, but far more lonely. Why couldn't Charlie hide with him? His mind insisted that the answer to that was that Charlie was going behind his back. Why wouldn't he? Mariana would become a king if he was returned, but even if he tried, he doubted he could get ahold of Charlie ever again. With all of the resources he already had to slip away from the current king's grasp, he'd become untouchable once he received better funding.

Mariana's satchel still lay next to his bed. He could take that and a deal better than his. This was the perfect moment for him to perform his specialty as a thief, and steal. Steal everything he could, and disappear off the face of the earth.

Still shaking profusely, Mariana curled himself up into a little ball. He really thought that he could successfully run away from the castle. He really did. In retrospect, it was a dream and nothing more. He would never have the love that Roier found. He was never meant to be his own individual, who searched after what he sought, he was no Bagi. He had proven to himself time and time again that he could not help people effectively, not in the way that Fit did. He was not meant to live a peaceful life with someone else in a city as wonderful as The Nest. That was a life for Charlie, perhaps, but not him.

He was a prince.

Selected by fate to carry the burden of thousands upon his shoulders, alone.

Chapter Text

Every tear stung worse than the last. Every minor twitch was his own body betraying him, just as everyone outside must have been. Every shaky breath was too loud and fuck, he was being too loud, they were going to find him. And he was going to be dragged into the castle and locked in his room to starve until he admitted to the king wholeheartedly that he was wrong. He'd never be allowed outside again, he'd never get another chance to escape, he'd be stuck for years and years before being thrust into the most high-pressure job he could ever think of. His first task as a king would be to mourn, though he wouldn’t be doing so for any of the right reasons.

He didn't want to go home. No one liked him there, because the ones that did disappeared. Roier found love beyond the gates of the castle, Jaiden found passion in painting the outside world rather than just their bland family portraits, Rivers managed to get a boat off the island before the border regulations increased tenfold... Everyone that had ever reciprocated his friendship had also escaped it.

Even many of those he didn't care for slipped from his grasp. Tutors would last a few years at maximum before the king labeled them a failure and sent them away. If servants or advisors spoke out of turn, they'd be found at an unjust court trial the following morning. No person had stuck by his side throughout his life.

Well.. Other than the king, he supposed. His personal tormentor, his strict supervisor, his father. He had been there for as long as Mariana could remember, and he very blatantly hated every moment of it.

Perhaps there was a time where he found some joy in being a father. From what his memory supplied, the king used to show a genuine smile every once in a while when surrounded by the other children. It made him wonder what ever happened to them, why they disappeared so suddenly. If he gave it enough time, Mariana could ask about it. At least there was one pro amongst an army of cons.

It was warm down here. That was nice for a small while, but now it had become uncomfortable. Mariana wanted to leave. If he had to wait any longer, he may have attempted to claw his way out. It wouldn't be too difficult, he was tall, he wouldn't have to climb too much. Though it would be inconvenient, and get dirt under his nails that seemed to have grown out just for the occasion.

But what if they were right outside? What if the hunters had killed the three people defending him, and were now searching the encampment, just about to enter this area? He had to be silent, Charlie was at least right concerning that much, because those two were guaranteed to be untrustworthy.

A creak tore through the silence, first in the door and then in the floorboards above him. Mariana stopped breathing entirely. If he passed out, so be it, he was positioned in the corner so that the walls would keep him up when he went limp.

He wished that his reflex was to relax when the light and cool air brought in by a reopened ceiling was accompanied by Charlie's face. He wanted nothing more than to find comfort in his current situation, but the same part of his brain that instructed him on how to survive was forcing him to shrink in on himself.

"Hey." Charlie extended a hand to him. Mariana did not move so much as an inch. He did, however, notice the newly acquired stains of blood and dirt on Charlie's sleeve. Charlie also winced at his own movement and unsuccessfully sniffed back the red slowly trickling out of his nose. "They're knocked out right now, we're gonna ship them away with Fit. You're safe."

Mariana raised his head only slightly, putting no effort into his blank expression. "Safe," he repeated. Had he ever truly been safe? All his life spent with eyes over his shoulders, and in his attempt to escape them, he only found himself surrounded by more. And now he was face-to-face with the most beautiful pair he had ever seen. Despite his tattered looks and dubious credibility, Charlie still had such an enticing appearance that Mariana worried he would never get over.

"Yes," Charlie said, worrying his brows to show his arising concern. His hand was still outstretched, yet Mairana continued to offer no response. He heard Charlie huff out a sigh before trying something else. "That letter... Roier wasn't lying. He definitely believed everything he said, and it's true that I worked for the king. A long time ago."

Mariana slowly tilted his head. An explanation would be greatly welcomed. Anything to calm the storm that had encroached on his thoughts. He waited in silence for Charlie to continue.

"But, Jesus, that man was insane. And the work was.. bad. Hunting down real human beings like they're animals out in the wild, serving them up to a man who's in power just because he happened to be born into it... Of course, I ended up leaving. I went here instead." He paused a moment, shifting slightly so that his arm managed to descend a few more centimeters, still too far to be of use. "Like you."

Mariana ran for the same reason. He ran because of the king. It just took much longer for him to work up the courage to do so. This was probably so much easier than whatever Charlie had gone through whilst he was on the run. He should be grateful.

"He said something about spiting the king, or using you as leverage... Fair guesses from his perspective," Charlie broke eye contact as he recalled the words he himself had torn to shreds. "But I don't want anything to do with the king. The reason I started helping you was because we had that in common."

They did. Mariana avoided the topic like the plague, he wanted to pretend that his life before this hadn't existed. He hoped that one day that it would become possible for him to imagine it. Once he'd spent enough time in The Nest. "Not the gold?" 

"Well-" Charlie's voice went higher in pitch as his face scrunched up a bit, "it was like, a little bit the gold."

A very faint smile came across Mariana's face as he exhaled something that resembled a laugh. Charlie took notice of this and grinned at him, an expression so lovely when paired with his features that Mariana found it in himself to push past his fatigue and get on his feet. Charlie helped him up from there. 

Both of their arms lingered, gently holding them together as they sat opposite from each other. It wasn't anything similar to the death grip Charlie had on him earlier. He had calmed down, and everything was under control. Mariana should calm down too. Why couldn't he relax?

Charlie leaned back, though didn't fully retract his limbs, as his hands found a resting point around Mariana's. He lined his own head up with the doorway and observed the outside world for a few moments, eyes wide with curiosity. Then he sprung upright with a bright expression. "They're still busy."

He appeared strangely happy about the fact. "Which means...?" Mariana prompted, not exactly following.

In response, the warmth around his hands moved to his face, gently cupping his jaw as Charlie leaned forward and kissed him. “We’re alone,” he whispered, practically against his lips given the close proximity he retained. 

Mariana held back his reflex to grin, he wasn’t allowed to win just with that. “…Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“How long are you going to stay once we get to The Nest?” The answer of ‘a little while’ was not enough. He needed something concrete.

Fabric rustled as Charlie shrugged, something that Mariana could feel rather than see, via the movement of the hand around his cheek rather than his half-closed eyes. “We’ll spend some time going from place to place, moving slowly. Once we get to the property you’ll be staying at… I’ll enjoy the luxury for a couple days before heading back here.”

Would that really be all that this led up to? The kisses, the compliments, the talk about how lucky Charlie was to be in the capital at the right time, all their hard work--all for him to leave? Charlie didn’t even mention the idea of visiting every once in a while. “Can I ask a favor?” He would not be ditched. 

He noticed as Charlie ever so slightly distanced himself. This allowed Mariana to see that he was staring down at the floor, brows worried, as if he were about to be scolded. Oh, how Mariana wished he had the heart to do so. “Sure.”

“Stay for longer.” 

Don’t turn me into something disposable. Prove to me that you care enough to make sure I stay free. Please.

Charlie was surprisingly taken aback at his request, mouth left slightly ajar as he distanced himself further to look Mariana in the eyes. It took a moment for the word to materialize. “…Okay.”

And- that was it. Weirdly enough. Charlie wasn’t often quiet. If Mariana were more comfortable, he’d probably have a much easier time filling the silence.

Mariana wasn’t sure how he felt. On one hand, he had gotten what he wanted. He had made it this far away from the capital, and for once there was someone in his life that would stay with him because they cared.

On the other, though, Mariana still felt wrong. A statement wasn’t enough, it wasn’t proof. Mariana wasn’t sure what he could possibly ask of Charlie that would serve as concrete evidence that he would stay. Either way, he’d find out eventually, but he’d much rather not worry. He hated being left in the dark, it was all the king would do to him. After a while of Charlie handling everything, Mariana was sick of it. 

It looked as if this would only continue for now, though, as the sound of even more horses could be heard outside. Charlie stood up and watched through the door, scouting out what was happening without any urgency. 

“They’re here,” Charlie said, giving him a strained smile and walking out.

Mariana sighed. Might as well say hi, right?

He followed after Charlie, stepping back outside into the moonlight and approaching the carriage that the two men were exiting. Phil’s face was surprisingly familiar, he didn’t appear much different from how he remembered, age only slightly wrinkling his face (though he still looked younger than expected). Foolish slid out of the vehicle next, waving when he met Mariana’s eyes. His eyes were a lot like Charlie’s.

“So it was you after all,” Phil opened with, crossing his arms.

“Am I that predictable?”

Phil was silent for a moment before he stepped away, gesturing for Charlie to follow after him. Mariana was tempted to tag along, since it was definitely going to be a conversation about him, but he doubted they’d let him. Also, he wouldn’t mind actually getting to meet Foolish. A past version of himself was terribly infatuated with the man, surely there was a good reason. 

“The prince himself,” Foolish addressed him first. “Guess I can check that off my bucket list.”

“We’ve talked before.” So very briefly on the occasions they did, but still.

Foolish’s eyebrows raised. “You remember that? I swear that was forever ago.”

“Yeah, I…” Maybe he wasn’t impressed. Being honest might have made him look like a creep (which he wasn’t . He hoped). “I’ve got a good brain, you know? I remember everything.”

“Oh yeah?” Foolish placed his palms over his closed eyelids. “What color are my eyes?”

Easy--testing him with the most distracting trait. “Green. A bright one.”

Foolish grinned, revealing the other half of his face like he was playing a childish game of peek-a-boo. “Okay, something harder then.” He put a finger to his chin. He pursed his lips, smile faltering for a moment. “How long have you known Charlie?”

Mariana shrugged. “Only about a month. I do know he worked at the castle before, but I never saw him.” He wasn’t even sure if ‘a month’ was accurate. Time behaved strangely when he was trapped in a box.

Though not noticeably tense before, Foolish relaxed. “...Interesting.” He sucked in a breath and began walking down the road, silently requesting Mariana to join him by gently wrapping an arm around his shoulders. People from Muerte Roja got comfortable fast, apparently.

Not like he was complaining.

“What kinds of things do you do for FOBO?” Mariana asked. He’d heard about it so much over the years, but the king was probably waiting for him to behave a little more to his liking before actually teaching him how to manage it. 

“Well… This used to be an unnamed place where exiles could take shelter before getting on a boat and escaping. The preference used to be that they leave rather than die.” Mariana was put off every time he heard of how things once were. That his father used to be merciful, that he had beliefs similar to his own current ones. It was so surreal to know that he wasn’t always this way, especially because the change was so incredibly drastic. “But, ever since that decree went out, stopping all transport in and out… It’s the only place that exiles can survive. If even that--the living conditions are what got the guards to name it. ‘Muerte Roja,’ Red Death; there’s dried blood in this very dirt.”

Mariana shuddered. He took a greater notice of the red staining the bottoms of some of the tents. It may have been his imagination, but the hue of the ground suddenly registered as redder than he thought it was before. Had people seriously died here? He hoped not. It could have been a tactic to scare people away from visiting (as if the guards’ weren’t enough).

“It would be much more like a prison if we didn’t start up the organization. We gather funds for building better structures, and fight in court for the residents’ rights. Though usually it’s… pointless. A flick of Cucurucho’s wrist, and whatever law we cited is no longer in action. It’s replaced with a copy that also specifically counters the exact point we just made.”

Mariana chuckled, catching Foolish off-guard. “Sorry. I’ve never heard of him being petty before.”

“He must have really been neglecting you, then.”

Mariana hummed in agreement. Roier would say the same thing (“Even the guards have spent more time with you than he has!”), so it had been something he’d accepted for a while now. 

“Hopefully The Nest treats you better, I bet you’ve been through a lot.”

Mariana blinked. No one had ever outright said it before. They’d point out small things or imply it, but this--this was direct validation. He had been through a lot. He was born with everything, but it was all just outside of his reach. He’d have to change who he was to ever achieve it, or perhaps wait until his father grew too old and then struggle to learn everything on his own. Mariana wasn’t fit for either outcome. And that had resulted in the firing and deaths of tens of workers, the occasional night spent without food as the king denied him access to it, and bruised patches on his skin. 

He turned his head toward Foolish, prompting the other man to do the same. He almost wanted to thank him, but that would be out of place without a proper explanation. He’d rather not ramble about himself the whole time. “I guess so,” he settled for.

Foolish cleared his throat and turned away. “How’s this place? Does it make you miss the castle at all?” 

“I miss my bed,” he admitted. 

It was the only thing he could really come up with. He’d never miss the guards or the loneliness, nor would he miss those tutors and poor servants being worked to the bone. But every night, the tiniest hints of regret would seep in as he thought about how the mattress would be prepared for him, how the crowd of pillows on it were fluffed up whilst he was out of the room. It was a lot harder to sleep peacefully without it.

“We all gotta make sacrifices, I guess.”

Mariana nodded. “I think it will be worth it.” It wasn’t ideal that he didn’t know it would be worth it, but for now he would work with what he was given. He trusted Charlie. He had to.

“Mariana.” Almost as if he could hear his thoughts. He’d appear every time he was on Mariana’s mind.

On this occasion, he already looked rather displeased. There was a crease between his brows and his jaw was tense. What a rollercoaster this was.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, separating himself slightly from Foolish and promptly realizing how close they had been before.

Charlie grabbed his hand and led him away, back into his tent where things were the tiniest bit more private. Charlie spun around to face him as soon as they reached the corner invisible to anyone watching from outside. Mariana let him speak first.

“You don’t trust me,” He said.

Mariana blinked. He was, sadly enough, correct. “It’s hard to.”

Charlie stared at the ground, eyes tired even as he narrowed them. “I know. And I figured it out--what I can do to fix it.”

“And what would that be?”

Hesitantly, Charlie reached into the pocket of his shirt. He pulled out a long golden chain with a single green gem hanging off from the center. “It was my mother’s. And her mother’s before that. She gave it to me when we were separated,” he explained, disconnecting the two ends clipped together and lifting them up around Mariana’s neck. “I’m not usually a very sentimental person, but this matters a lot to me. I don’t want to lose it.”

The chain was cold against his skin. He touched the gem, reluctantly, not wanting to overstep. It had been crudely cut into shape, an edge poking out and leaving a scratch on his fingertip. 

“You don’t believe I won’t leave you behind. But maybe you’ll believe that I won’t leave that behind.”

It was heavy enough for Mariana to recognize it as real gold. Chipped and dirtied gold--worn. It looked as old as Charlie made it sound.

And now because of it, Charlie had to trust Mariana.

“Thank you,” he said, tucking it under his shirt to ensure it was hidden. Charlie hadn’t worn it out in the open, after all, and that certainly was for a reason. “I will keep it safe.”

“Good.” Charlie smiled, though still didn’t look him in the eye. He began to walk off once again, only to stop in place after a few paces. “One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop treating Foolish like he’s me.”

And he left.

Mariana spent three more days at Muerte Roja. He and the others had waved Fit goodbye as he took away the two guardsmen who threatened the entire operation. Watching the wagon disappear past the gates made breathing feel a bit easier for Mariana. Quackity and Etoiles were taken care of, and now he might actually make it to The Nest.

He was so close. Closer than he could have ever imagined, truly. When he first escaped the castle, he had no idea where he’d end up. He’d imagined himself sneaking onto one of the few boats off the island (despite knowing there was no chance he wouldn’t be caught there), or hiding out in the middle of the woods where he would never be discovered… Both looked pretty in his mind, but he knew damn well they’d be hell to keep up alone. 

A life with someone, in The Nest? He’d be a liar if he tried to convince you that he hadn’t pinched himself every once in a while, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming it all up.

Now, it was finally time to take the last few steps. He was on his way to their last destination. It felt surreal to be so close, suddenly the trip that once seemed to be an eternity was no time at all.

There was one final obstacle in the way.

“I promised you at the start that I’d get you a carriage out of the capital,” Charlie said, packing the last of his important belongings into a sack that he then slung around his back, “But I wasn’t able to follow through. I wanted to find a way to make up for it.”

Mariana nodded along. He did remember expecting more from his ride out. He tried not to get his hopes up just as much this time around, he still hadn’t seen their next vehicle. Charlie was swift to make sure he did, though, as he grabbed Mariana by the wrist and brought him out to the road. Waiting for them was a wooden white box with rounded corners, decorated with golden paint strokes of feathers and various curved lines that outlined the doors, windows, and wheels. The windows were covered up, though not in the same manner as the makeshift curtain that had been used in their wagon. Instead, fabric akin to a bride’s veil layered themselves over the empty space, heavily restricting visibility of the inside.

“Does this suit your tastes a little better?”

Mariana stared at it. Admired it--he hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had admired the details of something. As he did so, he couldn’t ignore certain details. The pale color being so prominent… “It reminds me of home.”

“Is that good or bad?” Charlie asked, opening up the back door to reveal the matching insides of plush seats with golden stitching. The painting continued on the inside, meticulous lines meeting in the middle, forming a symmetric design. It was detailed, thought through, fancy. 

Royal.

He bowed as he did, and perhaps it was meant as a playful gesture, but Mariana had trouble interpreting it as one. The whole time he’d known him, after all, he’d been treated as an equal. They’d occasionally have conversations regarding the castle, but it was all about way of life, never specifics.

This was the first time that Charlie had ever treated him like a prince. And it made him feel sick.

In an attempt to undo the action, Mariana reached out and tilted Charlie’s jaw upward. Charlie blinked, confusion more than present in his expression. Mariana kept his hand in place for a few seconds longer as he pursed his lips.

It wasn’t on purpose. It was just fitting for the situation; he’s a kind man. He’s never acted like this before, he probably won’t do it again.

“I don’t know,” he settled on, slipping into the back seat. To restrict the formality of their situation from getting even worse, he slid to the opposite end. That way, Charlie also opened the door for himself, and wouldn’t have to go all the way around. He wasn’t a servant or guard--not anymore. He had just explained that they were the same, they both wanted to leave those parts of them behind, and so they would. Mariana wanted to be sure of it. He would be sure of it. He was sure of it.

Charlie sat down next to him, bringing the door with him. The lighting change was not nearly as drastic as Mariana was expecting, the sun’s light permeated through the shades that surrounded them on either side.

That also allowed him to see the front of the carriage. The bottom half was separated from the back with yet another white plank, but there was only a light layer of fabric above that. Mariana could still see that, well, “There’s no driver.”

“We figured we’d treat him to a quick meal first. He’ll be here soon.” Charlie hoisted his bag up and over the divider, letting it fall onto the seat in front of it. Mariana laid his satchel down beside his feet, not wanting to part with it just yet. “I also should.. Probably prep you.”

Mariana practically snorted. “‘Prep?’”

“Yeah. I don’t think you’re gonna like part of this.”

He was already crossing his arms when he said, “Tell me, then.”

“I, uh, hired someone from the castle,” Charlie said. “You’ve got more gold than your bounty, so I can pay him properly.”

Mariana took a moment to process. “He works for the king? Not worked.”

“Not worked,” Charlie repeated in a low tone, likely worried about Mariana’s response. “It was more than just the carriage. Everyone, including guards, wants that prize. But if there’s someone that could make them lose their jobs if they piss him off? They won’t bother searching.”

Mariana shook his head. This was insane. Every part of their trip had been, though, so the best thing he could do was fullsend. “…I hope I don’t know him.” There weren’t many servants of any kind that he got along with. Make it a high-ranking one, and the number dropped to zero.

Charlie chuckled. “I hope so too. He’s a b…” a door opened, “…lessing to this Earth! Great guy.”

Said ‘blessing to this Earth’ immediately glared at them. “You two ready to go?”

“Yes sir!” Charlie saluted, face and voice stuck in an overly-cheery tone that certainly was not being taken seriously by anyone in this space.

He shook his head and placed the dark cloak in his arms over Charlie’s bag, setting it aside so that he could grab at the reins. “I forgot how easy it was for you to give me a headache.”

“Missed you too, Bad.”

“Oh really now? It’s only been a few weeks, right?” He said, adjusting his position.

Charlie slowly got comfortable in his seat, leaning back and crossing his foot over his leg. “Yeah, I just wish that we talked sooo much more. All the time.”

“I don’t,” Bad muttered, though blatantly loud enough for the both of them to hear. 

Charlie looked back at Mariana. “See? Lovely person to be around.”

Bad laughed halfheartedly, and then they were off. 

It wasn’t the easiest viewing experience, but through the white fabric Mariana could make out how refined the buildings were. Miniature castles arranged in a perfectly spaced row, spacious yards outside of each piece of land. All of the lawns were tended to well, and many had gardens growing on their porches. There was personality to them, some were monochrome yet varied with different shades of roses and poppies and tomatoes, others were arranged in various pallets.

They had barely stopped outside of the entrance, Bad merely had to wave his hand at the guards and they opened the gate. They rode through the city, Mariana glued to the window as he watched the structures go by.

There were people outside too, and he could observe their lives without worry. They were interacting with one another, in a way Mariana had never seen. They smiled and joked and laughed, even when they were near a city official or officer. Those dressed in the finest of clothing laughed along with those with worn out shoes. They were not concerned in anything they did, they had no king looming over their shoulders. This was the first place he had ever seen where there was no insistent fear. 

“I actually lived here for a year or two, when I was a kid,” Charlie said as the carriage began to slow, “We’re gonna stay at my old house for a few nights, since it’s pretty hidden.”

Mariana kept observing the world outside up until they came to a halt. Once Charlie began on exiting, Mariana knew he was safe to do so as well, so he hopped down. The porch was rather bland, though that was probably a good thing if they wanted to remain discreet.

“I’ve gotta keep up appearances, so I’ll come back once we’re moving again,” Bad said through the window, waving halfheartedly. “You two have fun.”

“Thank god, bye!” Charlie’s voice was technically monotone, given that he maintained the same high pitch throughout the sentence. He waved enthusiastically as he backed up the stairs. 

He and Mariana entered the house, setting down their belongings a few steps away from the door. Charlie grinned at his surroundings, walking around with a hand out so that he could run his fingers over the surface of each piece of furniture he passed. Mariana watched as dust was thrown up into the air as he did. This house was lived in, but not for a long time now.

It wasn’t anything special, but it had multiple rooms and much more space than any of the places outside of the castle they had visited. It was, essentially, not what Mariana expected from one of Charlie’s old homes.

“Were you always… Poor?” There wasn’t any better way he could think of to phrase it, but it was a question that had been nagging at him ever since he received that necklace. It seemed expensive, literally composed of gold. 

Charlie stopped. “I should have been. But my parents were like me--thieves.” He leaned against the wall of the hallway he was in, crossing his arms and staring into the next room with his face set in a wistful expression. “They weren’t greedy, they just took as much as they’d need to raise me and laid low. Thought they were fine after a couple years of peace, so they moved in here.”

Mariana frowned. “And then…?”

“And then they were tracked down. Both of my parents were found guilty, but I was, like, ten…? So the court let me off the hook. Without any other living relatives, there wasn’t really anywhere for me to go, so I grew up in the castle, while they were sent to the dungeon beneath it. It’s the only reason I was ever a hunter.”

Mariana bit his cheek. “Have you seen them at all since then?” 

Charlie glanced back at Mariana, eyes glassy, and shook his head. Mariana made his way over to wrap his arms around Charlie’s torso. Charlie curled up slightly, leaning into his embrace. Slowly, he returned the gesture, slipping his own arms under Mariana’s shoulders.

It was quiet.

There was no clomping of hooves and squeaking of wheels, no raindrops pounding on the ceiling, no overwhelming bustle of a city’s streets. Only Charlie’s heartbeat and shallow breath. A moment of serenity, the eye of the storm, just for the two of them to experience.

“Sorry, I just…” Charlie sniffled. Mariana hadn’t ever seen him cry. “Family matters a lot to me.”

Could they be one?

“Did we ever meet at the castle?” Mariana decided to shift the subject.

“Nah.” Charlie started to pull back. “But I did see you. Every once in a while, I’d look out the window and see you standing on the balcony outside your room. The king never let me get close, though.”

“A shame.” Mariana brought his hand up to feel Charlie’s jaw, almost cautiously, as if he were handling glass. “You might have made it bearable.”

Charlie met his eyes, his own sparkling. The complete switch in his expression showed that he very much liked that sentiment. He smiled into the kiss he gifted to Mariana.

That night, Charlie had a nightmare.

They shared a bed, without retrospect there was no point in not doing so. Mariana did worry a bit that he could be haunted by a bad dream, but Charlie instead had the experience. Mariana was woken up at the darkest hour of the night to Charlie’s mumbled speech and occasional squirming. When Mariana tried to lay even a finger on him, hoping to calm him as he did before with a hug, he practically slapped his hand away.

“No,” he said, face scrunched up as if he were in pain. Perhaps he was. “You need to run.”

At least that’s what it sounded like--he wasn’t talking to someone in reality, so articulation was not the focus. This, certainly, was the most clear his speech had been tonight.

Sometimes the real world would affect dreams. Mariana hoped that was the case when he whispered, “We’re safe now. No one needs to run.”

“You have to go. Mari, you have to go. Now.”

‘Mari’ was a somewhat familiar nickname to him, though new when accompanied by Charlie’s voice. Mariana initially assumed that he was thinking back to his parents, given that he had revisited his memory of them earlier today, but apparently it was meant for him. A nightmare of things going wrong, it seemed.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please…”

Charlie’s voice slowly got quieter, until he eventually stopped talking. His body stopped moving around as much, so Mariana was allowed to hold him. He watched as Charlie’s expression, barely lit by the moonlight outside the window, mellowed.

The following morning, Mariana asked about it. Charlie claimed he didn’t remember dreaming last night, so there wasn’t much to explore. Mariana held the belief that all dreams had meaning--messages or emotions that the brain was still sorting out--so he personally was wary of the situation. If Charlie feared failure, then he clearly didn’t have enough faith in himself to carry out the rest of their journey without conflict. 

“...What if we stayed here?” Mariana asked, out of the blue. Evidently, this place had not been lived in after Charlie’s family, and they hadn’t been bothered or had any close calls yet. No one knew that they were in The Nest, so they wouldn’t be searching nearly as thoroughly here.

Charlie blinked. “Well, it’s.. It’s not as great of a place. We’ll be going to a much bigger estate, with a big lawn, more comfortable furniture, and good places to hide in the worst case. You’ll like it a lot better.”

Mariana tilted his head to one side. “How do you know that?” Charlie raised an eyebrow. “I like it here. It’s already quiet and comfortable, I would be happy to stay. We won’t have to risk anything with traveling, either.”

Charlie was silent for longer than Mariana would have liked. “I…” He shrugged. “Alright, I guess. I’ll let Bad know.”

The rest of the day was ordinary. So ordinary Mariana thought he could cry from the joy that even the prospect brought to him. His father was gone, he had so many people beside him that supported his journey, a knowledge that he was no longer bound to the castle, and now he was making dinner for Charlie. It was something he had never experienced in his adulthood: it was domesticity. 

Charlie liked his cooking. Mariana hadn’t realized his breath was held until Charlie complimented it and cleaned his plate entirely. They had a conversation about nothing important, Charlie washed their plates while Mariana swept up the crumbs that had fallen under the table. They continued to talk into the night. Every time Mariana would make a move to head upstairs to bed, Charlie stopped him. Not in any straightforward way; it took a while for Mariana to notice it was purposeful. But apparently Charlie was aware of the fact that Mariana couldn’t abandon his hand being held, or a laugh as Charlie began a new tangent, or the tens of questions asked to him with wide eyes. 

Despite the fact that they were going to both be staying here indefinitely, Charlie didn’t want to let this particular day end. Nevertheless, they ended up falling asleep sitting (far too tired to walk all the way to the bedroom) at the two chairs from the dining table they’d arranged to be side-by-side, Mariana’s head resting on Charlie’s shoulder.

The next morning would have been when they moved. Bad knocked on the door and Charlie answered it and explained the new plan sheepishly, swaying slightly under his self-inflicted sleep deprivation.

“I won’t take away from your pay, obviously, plans have just… changed,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Bad put a hand on his hip. “If anything gets out, and they find out you’re living in The Nest, you want to be in a larger property. Especially that one, it has effective places to hide if it gets searched--”

“This whole plan is based on me being in the worst place to hide,” Mariana argued. A man still working for the king would not be able to convince him of anything. “If this surprises even you two, then who will be searching here?”

Bad looked to Charlie, who nodded. He tapped his finger against the doorway at a steady rhythm for a near minute, then sighed. “Alright. Your funeral.” And he walked off.

Charlie closed the door reluctantly. “And… That’s it.”

Strange. That was it. In the best case scenario, they were good to go. The war was over.

They both walked back to the kitchen, though they were too tired to put much effort into breakfast. Charlie figured they should eat their fruit first, lest it go bad. He’d be able to go out into town to shop--his prize for capture here wasn’t high enough for anyone to try. There was a poster here and there, but he said he’d walked the streets before without any issue. 

Mariana hesitated on the apple, once more caring for his appearance. He’d rather not look unflattering, as that advisor had described it, when standing next to Charlie. Perhaps he’d never be truly free of everything if he wasn’t completely alone. At least this was preferable. By a longshot.

“You still have the necklace, right?” Charlie asked as Mariana found something bitesized to ingest. 

“Si, of course.” Mariana paused. “You don’t want it back already, right?”

“It.. would be nice,” Charlie said. “Since we’re done with the important stuff.”

Mariana’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t want you to leave, though.”

Charlie exhaled a shaky breath. “Neither do I.”

Just then, a whistle sounded out. A long, high-pitched noise that was alarmingly close by. Charlie ran and lifted some curtains to glance out the window, before turning back. “Nothing to worry about.”

“What is it, then?” Mariana relaxed, reaching over to snack some more.

When he wasn’t given a response, he turned around. Charlie was staring up at him with a horribly blank expression, hints of guilt visible in his fidgeting hands. He took a step forward. “It’s, uh…” Mariana took a step back. “My signal.”

Mariana dropped the berry in his hand, letting it roll away as he raised his hands to defend himself if need be. “What are you doing?” He was smiling ear to ear the night before, he had just said that they were done both to Bad and to himself, everything was tied up nicely in a little bow--why was Charlie acting so off all of the sudden?

“Mariana,” Another step forward, bringing Mariana back. “It’s important to me that you know that I would do anything for you.”

Mariana faltered, but continued to back up until he hit the wall. He wanted to sidle against it and slip away, just to maintain the distance, but Charlie took the opportunity to speed up. His words didn’t align with his actions.

His actions being a hand around Mariana’s throat.

“But, unfortunately…” His jaw was tense as he looked Mariana in the eye. Mariana clawed at the hand, helplessly trying to pry the fingers away before they bruised his neck. He was confused and so terribly tired, the only rational thought he could find was that he had fallen asleep and it was his turn to experience a nightmare. “I would do more than anything for my daughter.”

His.

Fucking.

What?

Any attempts Mariana made to speak, to question, to beg were lost in strained whispers. He couldn’t breathe.

“I know,” Charlie said, worrying his brows as if he was concerned about the very same pain he was causing. “It hurts.”

Mariana tried to nod, but the grip around him was too strong to let him move at all. He barely registered the tears against his cheek that Charlie wiped away with his free hand. Mariana changed strategies, using his arms that wanted to go limp and trying to push Charlie away. 

Charlie, to his utter despair, simply took his shaking palm and pressed a kiss to it. His mannerisms were somber, but he did not stop. Not until Mariana got too weak to hold himself up.

Mariana’s vision went dark before his mind lost consciousness. He still registered being caught when he slumped over, and the cold of the necklace being removed from his neck.

The last thing he registered, through the ringing in his ears, was Charlie’s words.

“And I’m sorry.”

Chapter Text

Mariana woke up about ready to choke. He must have breathed wrong while resting, thanks to the previous collapsing of his throat, and he coughed up gallons of air as he regained consciousness. He gasped it all back in, trying and failing to bring his hands up to feel at the damaged area.

Failing, because they were tied behind his back. When he leaned forward for an ounce of comfort, he found that the rope around his wrists was also attached to the wall behind him.

Or- not a wall. His seat. Looking around frantically to learn anything of where he was now, he found that he was once again in Bad’s carriage.

“God, are you alright?”

Charlie sat beside him. And he had that same expression on his face—one that suggested he had some sympathy. Or perhaps it was pity. Mariana didn’t want either. Not from him.

Mariana did his best to get away, shoving himself into the corner formed by the door and his seat. He looked at him like he was crazy (because, well, he was), shaking his head. “Of course I’m-” speaking, he had just learned, was quite painful after experiencing strangulation. Still, he continued. “Of course I’m not!”

“Makes sense. You put up a fight,” Charlie said, “This whole thing would’ve been a lot easier for all of us if you stuck with the plan.”

“We put a lot of effort into it, y’know,” Bad chimed in, an absent smile stuck on his face. “Hired actors and guards to storm the place so that you'd have to run again… We would only have to knock you out a day before we got there. Or, if we got lucky, you’d be sleeping when we reached the castle.” 

Actors and guards—did they pay the people of Muerte Roja as well? How many were in on this elaborate lie? And why on Earth would they draw it out for so long?

“Why didn’t you turn me in at the capital? Why- why all this work…?” Not only was his throat begging for him to speak less, but he also had trouble thinking up the words.

“He wanted to parade you around. Like a dog. And you played along, following behind him every step of the way.” Mariana would rather be choked again than hear that comparison.

“No, no,” Charlie leaned forward to cross his arms over the board in front of them. “I just needed Cucurucho to know that he wasn’t in control here.”

Bad nodded. “Yeah. By parading him around like a dog.” Though if he went out, he’d want it to be less painful. Poison, perhaps?

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

They were so casual with the man hyperventilating in the corner. So casual in the way they talked about him. So casual about the fact that Charlie had deceived him by romancing him, pretending to be the first to love him just to ensure his prize. 

“What,” he breathed out, balling his fists, “is wrong with you.”

Charlie stared at him for a few moments, then shrugged.

“You- you didn’t have to go so far. You didn’t have to kiss me.”

Bad let out a low whistle. “That’s wild.”

“It was a lot easier to trust me though, right?” Charlie asked with a smile. “There’s a method to my madness.”

And unfortunately, Mariana understood. Earlier, he had taken an extra moment to react to Charlie reaching for his neck, because he was used to Charlie taking him by the collar of his shirt every once in a while. Charlie made sure to get close, so Mariana wouldn’t feel the need to protect himself. Charlie was left alone repeatedly with his gold, so Mariana felt no need to hide it, nor the necklace.

Charlie was wearing the necklace now. He fiddled with it every once in a while. Perhaps he wasn’t lying about the sentimental value of the jewelry. Mariana should have lost it. At least then he could have done something of worth on this journey.

"What's your plan afterward, huh?" Mariana narrowed his eyes at Charlie, grasping for the chance to appear even the slightest bit intimidating. He knew his fear overpowered him nonetheless. "If I go back, I eventually become king. And as soon as that happens, I will fucking find you. I'll keep that decree in place, make sure no one leaves, until you are arrested." His voice was shaking as if he were lying, but he meant every word of it. Redemption and forgiveness are so easy to give, but impossible to consider when looking a siren in the eye.

"All that, just for me?"

Mariana winced. "Both of you."

Bad reached behind himself and held up a hand. "Cellmates, cool." The first time that Bad was the one to initiate a friendly gesture—a simple high five—Charlie grimaced and backed away.

They already had a plan. Why else would they care so little? Their prize could be a boat away from the island that would lead Mariana on a fruitless search for revenge. The world had never been fair to him, and it was idiotic of him to think that things would change now. They never would, not even once he inherited the kingdom.

Mariana stooped his head in defeat, fighting back tears. This was insanity. What felt like mere hours ago, he had woken up with Charlie at his side, resting peacefully. Charlie, willingly, had spent the night interacting with him. It felt so genuine, but of course sincerity was always far too perfect to be true.

And, Jesus, did the consequences hurt. His vocal chords ached as he tried to fight for a place in their minds in which he was taken seriously. More than that, his chest ached with a longing for what he had just had the day before. He cursed himself mentally for wishing to relive it. He wasn't sure how Charlie knew exactly how to keep him.

"Don't worry, you'll be perfect."

Charlie had leaned forward to tell him such, practically whispering it into his ear. Mariana promptly shot up and kicked him in the chest, grateful for his legs' freedom as Charlie got the wind knocked out of him. He looked surprised, mouth hanging open even once he had stopped heaving.

Mariana smiled, simply because for once Charlie didn't.

It faded quickly. Charlie could hurt him. He could strangle him. He had a strong enough grip to cause bruising wherever he wanted. His stolen sword was at his side once again, propped against the door.

And he didn't do any of those things. He opted for looking away and out the window, bringing silence to the space. Mariana wanted to take comfort in the lack of his voice, but there was something so terribly ominous about it. Charlie—or whatever version of Charlie he'd seen for the past month—was only ever quiet when tired or upset. The sun was up high, so Mariana could only see one other option.

It was satisfying, but not relieving. The castle would take multiple days to travel to, even with their coachman having the privilege to drive past outposts and city gates without being stopped. If this was how day one had gone of no person tolerating the other, Mariana wasn't too fond of the idea of day seven.

Day two was worse already. Overnight, Mariana's legs had been bound, attaching him to the floor. Escape was no longer a dream, rather, a fleeting memory of one.

And yet, Mariana attempted to make an appeal. "I'll torture you. After I find you." Charlie had joined Bad in the front as the latter slept. Mariana hoped that Charlie would sleep in the back at some point; he had been trying to formulate a way to push him out the side whilst they moved. "Let me go."

Charlie was quiet for a few moments. His response was barely audible to Mariana, and he wondered if he heard it wrong because of that.

"You have no idea how hard that is to do."

"Eh?" Mariana narrowed his eyes and tried his best to lean forward. "What, are you being threatened?"

"You can't seriously…" Charlie shook his head. "Still be making excuses for me."

Mariana turned defensive, speaking swiftly for the sake of his pride. "You made it sound like you don't want to- I hate you no matter what, man, but if there's a reason, maybe I…"

"Nothing you can give me," Charlie said. Goddammit.

"What is it?" He was not deigned with a response, so he tried again. "Culero, háblame. What are you trading me in for?" It couldn't just be money, right? That was already going to be given to him. Asking for even more gold was displaying a sickening amount of greed. Though, Charlie was quite the sickening person.

Charlie began to tap his thumb against the reins.

"What is more important than me?" Mariana bit his tongue. Charlie didn't care from the start, even if it seemed like it. He needed to stop pretending like the deal was recent—they had openly admitted this entire trip was planned out. "Not- not me, but a person. I deserve… To live a life I want, don't I? I deserve freedom?"

"Sure," Charlie said as he shrugged. "And you got it. A whole month of it. You're welcome."

Mariana wanted to scream. What a sorry excuse for freedom. He wasn't free, he was doing whatever Charlie told him. He was hiding in boxes and holes, shutting his mouth either so no one could hear or so no one disliked him enough to turn on him. Every step outside of Roier and Cellbit's house was a tightrope, what came after was supposed to be freedom. The capital was not freedom, the roads were not freedom, and Muerte Roja was certainly not freedom.

Only The Nest released his shackles. He'd be kept in place, but that place was a choice that he had made. The dinner they had that night was a recipe he picked out. He had one day of freedom. And he missed it dearly.

"Stupidest thing I've ever heard," Mariana spat, leaning his head against the window to look outside.

They were passing through a field, the grass tall enough to bend over and graze against the doors. He wished to reach a hand out the window and feel them hit his skin, but alas, he could not be granted enough slack even to reach that close.

"Once you're king, you can do whatever you want." Charlie continued to advertise this as the ideal for him as Bad stirred awake.

He thought he had made this clear. "I don't want to be king." Charlie just laughed and shook his head. Sounded like he was ready to end the conversation, but Mariana still had no idea what all of this was for. "You didn't answer my question."

"And I never will. Sounds like you'll be hellbent on revenge." Mariana frowned. Yes, if Charlie told him what he was being traded in for, he'd take it away once he could. But, allow a man to be curious.

"Does he really not know about—?" Bad was cut off by Charlie hitting him. There was absolutely no hesitation in doing so.

Mariana sighed. It was obvious that Charlie wouldn't let it slip. So, to help his voice heal, he silenced himself and watched the world outside his window pass him by. Sometimes an animal, an unsaddled horse or little rabbit, would be exploring the world outside. They taunted him with their families and ability to walk wherever they wished.

Charlie and Bad didn't talk to each other. At some point, they stopped, and Bad took control again while Charlie sat in the back. Mariana tried to keep his eyes open as Charlie rested. He was tempted to annoy him into staying up, but Mariana would much rather not guarantee the same sleep schedule as him. The world, however, was cruel, and only gave him a few minutes without Charlie's conscious presence at his side before Mariana fell asleep as well.

Day three was another futile attempt. "Everyone that was in on it will be tried. Cellbit, Fit, all of Muerte Roja, Roi-" Mariana paused. "Not Roier. Roier will be rewarded, because he tried to help."

"Wasn't too effective, though, was it?" Charlie said.

"Cállate."

Day four. "I want to take care of my prisoners, everyone deserves redemption. But you two will be different. The cells next to the execution stage will be yours. You will never die, but you will not get visits and you will only get one meal every day. You will be forgotten."

"Oh, Bad," Charlie clasped his hands together and closed his eyes, voice full of faked passion, "I'll always remember you." It was horrible acting on purpose. A mockery.

"I hope I don't." At least Bad had some sense.

Day five, he spent all day attempting to calculate a better threat (there was nothing else to do, after all). One-upping himself was difficult. He searched through his interactions with Charlie in an attempt to find something of importance. Sure, Charlie lied through his teeth every waking moment, but everything he said had to have originated from a genuine thought somewhere in his brain.

It was sundown when he settled for something he knew wouldn't be effective. "I'll take down FOBO. Everyone who works for it will be exiled, and they won't have anyone to take care of them."

"Guess it's better than the king's game of cat and mouse," Bad said. "I honestly think he wastes his time."

Mariana groaned. He knew it wasn't his best, but helping either of these two was not at all his intention. Perhaps he should have just kept quiet.

Which is what he did on day six, the only thing of note being that he had made a habit out of thumping his head against the back of his seat. He wasn't sure if it was self-punishment or an attempt to improve his thinking. Either way, it accomplished nothing. It continued into day seven.

A whole week spent almost entirely inside of this godforsaken carriage. He'd memorized those intricate patterns and by now they actually looked quite basic. Chances for him to exit were limited, they took very few stops and monitored him closely when they did. Charlie was always within a ten foot radius and Bad was always guarding the exit. He couldn't escape if he tried (which he did, on practically every occasion. They always saw it coming).

Mariana wondered, if those bugs that lit up the cavern where they first kissed had blinked at him in some kind of code, had known to warn him–would he have even cared? Or would he remain blissfully unaware, eyes adjusting so quickly that he wouldn’t even notice the change?

The latter seemed more likely, considering the fact that he had been warned. Roier seemed uneasy when he first saw Charlie with him. His smile was less full, his movement restless, and his voice unsure. Even without that letter, he should have known that something was wrong.

And yet, even then, he chose to overlook it all for the sake of temporary convenience. Charlie and Cellbit had probably plotted out their entire journey right under his nose, he was almost certain that if he had just wandered too close to the backdoor that he would have found it all out. Curse his good manners for allowing them privacy, and curse them again for insisting that he shouldn’t stare. If he looked long enough, perhaps he would have been able to see the malicious intent behind Charlie’s eyes.

Charlie had tripped him. When they first met, Charlie had deliberately followed him and secluded him from all else. He had put his foot under Mariana just so that he could stop the fall and appear a hero. Mariana mentally berated himself, he had seen then that there was nothing else that could have caused it. Within moments of meeting Charlie, he had already begun making excuses for him.

He had been played like that dusty piano that sat in the hallway in front of the throne room, the one he had never been able to learn to use. One hand softly crafting a perfectly beautiful melody as the other ripped out the keys that needn't be used. It wasn't like he'd be needed again after this, anyways. Destruction held no consequence.

On day eight, Mariana began to recognize the terrain. They were almost at the castle. He was almost home.

Home… felt like the incorrect word. Though the only that fit. It was where the only remaining member of his family resided, and the only place he had ever returned to. It was where he was raised, where he likely would die. It was designed to host him for the rest of his life.

Day eight was spent fidgeting and fighting off tears. He had been belittled enough.

They stopped overnight, Bad and Charlie sleeping in short shifts while they remained stationary. Mariana could see the walls of the capital outlined by the moonlight, towering overhead. He remembered stealing a peek at them when he had first left with Charlie, opening a crack in the door and watching it travel away, grinning at Charlie while he closed it back up. Charlie had smiled up at him, looking as excited as he.

Now he was back, no need to be swift and secretive when he examined them, because no matter what he was returning. He watched it and it watched him in return until he drifted off, getting a few hours of sleep before he was shaken awake by Charlie.

They still hadn't moved, but Bad was preparing to start up again. Mariana couldn't decide if he would prefer for them to get it over with quicker, or if the stalling was preferable. It depended on his punishment upon arrival, he supposed.

"The capital was told that you were kidnapped," Charlie said. "They'll celebrate your return. If you want to be successful at all as a king—if you want them to help you search for me—you should celebrate with them. Smile and wave, at least."

The carriage entered a slow motion forward. As the gates opened, Charlie brought out his dagger and cut the rope around Mariana's wrists. Somehow, their ability to breathe once again felt wrong. They had only ever been loosened during those breaks, when he was told to change his clothes and maintain his hygiene as best he could (as much as Mariana did not want to show any form of obedience, he would rather not feel even more disgusting than he already did with the not-so-distant memory of once loving Charlie).

His legs were still tied, so attempting to escape would simply humiliate him. The last thing he wanted to do was give up, but if he was being completely honest with himself, he had done that already a week ago.

Charlie reached over and pushed the white curtains to the side so that much less effort had to be put in to see through either way. Mariana would now be entering the view of the public eye. Something he had been trained for, something he was practiced in, something he despised.

He straightened his back by pure instinct and took in a deep breath. He heard a loud chatter buzzing throughout the city, the full spectrum of emotion scattered across the streets. He didn't have a mirror to practice his smile in, so all he could do was hope it was convincing.

As soon as people started appearing in his field of view, they didn't stop. As he passed by them, the world around him got louder. He waved at them and mouthed—though never actually said—'thank you' repeatedly. They'd wave back or clap, some didn't care enough to spare more than a glance. He liked those ones the best. They didn't pressure him.

"This is fucked up," Mariana said with a grin, only audible to Charlie over the crowd. "Making me do this."

"Hey, look," Charlie pointed outward with his index finger. "You were wrong. Bagi did find Cellbit on her own."

Lo and behold, two pairs of brown and white hair were amongst the people. Bagi wore an apologetic smile, a crease between her brows as she offered a small wave. Cellbit was placed next to her, completely deadpan as he looked him in dead the eye. He nodded, almost solemnly.

At his side stood Roier. Roier had seemed nervous when they last interacted, Mariana had assumed it was for reasons other than himself. Roier should have told him, should have woken him up that night rather than written a letter. Mariana could understand the want to not upset his husband, of course, but there was something awfully bitter about your lifelong friend choosing someone else's feelings over your own.

Roier had his arm around Cellbit's, his other hand busy with letting his teeth gnaw on his nails. He appeared distressed, brows worried and eyes frantic. When they landed directly on Mariana, he turned his head away and hid into his husband's chest.

Mariana wished he had someone who would comfort him so readily.

They were gone as swiftly as they had arrived, Mariana sticking his head further out the window yet being unable to find them. Who knew if he would ever see any of them again. He was still unsure whether or not he'd follow through on his threats toward everyone. He didn't want to hurt Roier, but it wasn't like he forgave Cellbit.

He did know for a fact that Charlie was going to rot in a cell. If he accomplished one thing as a king, that would be it.

Mariana felt the life drain right out of him when they got past the castle gates. There was no one worth pretending for in these parts. Before he could even think to use them, his hands were grabbed again and rebound. He did try to pull back, to struggle, but he was far too weak with the way that his nutrition and exercise had been controlled.

The rope hurt more than he remembered. "It's too tight, pendejo."

Charlie lingered for a moment, as though he were considering helping for once. He huffed out half a laugh, instead, and smiled. "Nice try."

He exited the carriage. He reappeared moments later when he opened Mariana's door, bowing once again. Mariana groaned as he adjusted his positioning, letting his legs dangle out the side. Charlie bent down onto a knee to cut their rope, though Mariana still nearly fell when he was dragged out. A hand stayed around his arm and brought him wherever it pleased, the world blurring around Mariana and forcing ignorance upon him. The blur was a fault of his own, he was crying. The makeshift dam he had been building over the past week was proving to be unsuccessful.

Believe him, he tried to run. He wished to so wholeheartedly, but that heart of his had slowed and cracked. It was bruised, and he was bruised, and his hands were getting tingly without proper circulation, and no one could care less.

A slow clap approached them. "Congratulations." He had never heard the word said with such virulence.

Mariana was pulled in closer to Charlie, his hold growing tighter. "Did he offer you the same.. thing?" Charlie asked, a cautious edge to his voice.

"No," A tear finally fell down his cheek (he couldn't wipe them away on his own), letting Mariana recognize the man as Quackity. "I just don't like you."

Charlie laughed—practically devolving into cackles. "Get in line," he joked, already moving away. He clearly worried that Quackity was still aiming to be the one to turn Mariana in.

Etoiles arrived to the scene as well, dragging someone behind him. Said someone was disheveled and had blatant tear streaks coming from his widened eyes. It was like staring in a reflection.

"Tubbo…?" A person that Charlie knew.

"Charlie, thank God, I-" he was passed over to Quackity, who raised an eyebrow at the gesture. Etoiles shrugged, mumbling something about 'king's orders' before retreating. "I need you to listen to me. He changed the deal—"

"He what?" Mariana tensed at the scraping sound of Charlie unsheathing his sword.

"You have to take it. Please. Please." His speech was erratic and his voice broke with desperation. "Please take it."

The blade was put up against Mariana's throat, giving him further incentive to march in unison with his captor. Charlie ignored the rest of Tubbo's pleading, and the latter couldn't do much about it as he was physically held back.

The route to the throne room was familiar as ever. The entrance alone gave him deja vu. His dreams had misplaced the family portrait, he now noticed, it was actually above the fireplace rather than being used as kindling.

They stopped in front of a large pair of double doors, two guards on either side. Their movement was unnatural and stiff as they stepped inward and pushed the doors open. Mariana was forced to step forward, into the throne room. He shut his eyes and bit his lip until it bled, wishing away the last of his tears.

"Charlie." The king's voice was grating against his ears, and he instinctively twitched.

"Your Highness," Charlie snarled.

After a lapse in judgement, Mariana removed his line of sight from the ground for a moment and stared up at his father. It was strange, to see him again. He appeared the slightest bit changed. It was something hidden in his expression that Mariana had never witnessed with him before—it was, if he was reading it right, fear.

"You're aware that I dislike repeats in history." The king watched Charlie intently.

Charlie adjusted his grip on his sword. "And I trust you'd never let them happen."

A hint of a smile graced the king's face. "You've never trusted me before, why the sudden switch?"

"As you said," Mariana held back a cough as the blade was pushed into his neck, the warmth trickling downward telling him that Charlie had drawn blood. He tried to lean away, in vain of course, Charlie held him in place. "You. Don't. Want. A repeat."

The king nodded. "Unfortunately," he said, taking a breath in, "there's only so much one man can do. And with you gone so long, I struggled." Strange, him admitting to a fault was uncommon.

The shaking of Charlie's hand was blatant when his weapon's movements relied so heavily on it. Mariana winced as it cut unevenly, though he didn't yet fear that it would kill. "What did you do."

"I believe Hammurabi was onto something when he crafted his code. Though recent events have shown me that intervention isn't necessary to balance the scales." He stood up, taking his time. "I didn't do anything. Nature took her."

Her? "Took who?"

For the first time this morning, Mariana's father looked at him. "He never told you about his daughter?"

Daughter… He had, hadn't he? It was so soon before Mariana had passed out that he thought it was imagined. And Charlie evaded the topic of what he was after so often in the past week that Mariana had nothing else to lead him to believe it was true. It made even more sense now, given that Mariana had threatened to take away whatever Charlie had gained.

The king shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. We've given her a proper burial. I'm no monster, so I'll allow you some time to visit her today, with supervision. I hope you'll be willing to take her friend with you," He went through each remark like an itemized list, bored by his own words. He then gestured with a raised arm at the door to his left, which had opened to reveal Quackity and Etoiles once again, a now gagged Tubbo being restrained by Etoiles as Quackity stepped forward. Tubbo was fighting for his life, muffled yelling and insistent squirming becoming a problem for Etoiles.

A small child, dark curly hair flying out in knots, lay curled up in Quackity's arms. She slept with a conflicted expression and her hands curled tightly around the fabric of Quackity's shirt.

"Why this one, sir?" Quackity asked, as timidly as one could expect him to get.

"You wouldn't trust your own with him, would you?" Quackity didn't argue. None did with the king.

Mariana could breathe once Charlie lowered his arm, the tip of his blade scraping against the red carpet. Mariana craned his neck to see Charlie's reaction.

Through the stray hairs stuck to beads of sweat on his skin, he stared at the girl. He was difficult to read, eyes neutral and jaw tensed. His grip on his sword loosened and strengthened repeatedly.

"I know you're considering taking my son away again by fighting through my guards. There weren't many on your path here." Mariana faltered at the words 'my' and 'son.' He had rarely heard either in conversation with him, let alone both of them together. "By now, a fourth of my army has prepared for that outcome. I'd recommend taking her with you before I change my mind."

With a heavy sigh, the pressure on his back lessened, allowing Mariana to stumble forward. He nearly lost his footing due to sudden lightheadedness, characterized by a strong vignette around his vision along with ringing in his ears. A glove reached his shoulder and steadied him. Mariana was surprised to see, as soon as he was capable, that the king had done so for him. When he drew his hand back, it had picked up some of the dirt on Mariana's cloak. The king hated having any of the white in his castle or outfits be tainted, yet as he observed the damage, he seemed rather unbothered. Mariana guessed he was saving his energy for after Charlie left.

The exchange of the child was gentle, both Quackity and Charlie handling her gingerly. There was one singular thing that every person in this room had in common: none wished for any harm to come to this innocent little girl.

"Why is Tubbo here? To convince me?" Charlie asked, reluctantly resheathing his sword so he could use both arms to cradle her.

"He's been arrested for threatening to overthrow me. With how many witnesses there were to our conversation, he'll likely be jailed."

Charlie nodded slowly, moving like he was stuck in molasses. "So that's why you're giving up his kid." Each action he took lacked energy; Charlie had lost. Mariana found some comfort in the fact.

Although, he wasn't sure how he felt about taking a father away from his daughter. Twice, at that. He wasn't surprised by the tactic, the king played dirty. He matched Charlie on that front.

Maybe it was deserved.

In Charlie's silence, the king turned to Quackity. "The prince has seen enough of this. Escort him to his room."

Mariana never said that, but again, who in their right mind would argue with the king? Not even Charlie was trying, despite the fact it seemed he was fighting off a strong will to do so.

After Quackity cut his binds, the two marched away in silence. Mariana hadn't had a conversation with him before, and after the panic attack he'd caused the other night, he wasn't interested in starting one now.

A dull sense of dread set in as Mariana cracked open the door. The handle was dusty. Everything inside of his room had been left untouched. His bed was made for him, as always, awaiting his inevitable collapse into it. The only thing he missed was now his again.

Of course, now he had more to miss about the world after learning about what he didn't have here. Most of all the lack of paranoia. He didn't expect Charlie's conversation with his father to last long, and after that, he would have to talk to the king. With a month of absence, he knew he'd get much more than a slap on the wrist. Punishments were severe even for attempting to escape in the past, so doing it successfully must have constituted torture. As if living here wasn't that already.

Mariana pulled at his hair. He needed something to ground himself, he was already spiraling into sobs like the fucking baby he was. If his father saw him like this…

He buried his head into his pillow, wrapping it around his head with the distant hope that he'd suffocate. In the past, he had been starved, locked inside, and sometimes forced to host public executions (he was known for his outspoken hatred of them inside of the castle, but the outside world must have believed he watched them for sport). Physical aggression wasn't common yet. He expected the medium to be explored now.

A knock on the door. Slow and loud. His signature. Mariana raised his head, trembling. He had to pull himself together. He didn't have much time. If he was late to the door, that was another thing added to the list of all of the reasons of why he was a horrible and lazy prince who took his whole world for granted.

Gripping his sheets like they were his lifeline, he took one breath in, and one out. He stumbled out of the comfort of his bed and took a moment to judge his reflection in the mirror. He had the time to fix his glasses and fail to flatten a few wrinkles on his shirt before he reached the door.

Mariana bowed his head as he opened it, just like he had been taught to. Anything that could save him for a moment longer. He resisted the urge to flinch when fabric grazed his chin. He allowed his head to be directed upward. His father looked at him with worried brows and-

Tears?

Yes, there was water threatening to spill from the base of his eyes. Which was something Mariana didn't expect to see at any point in his life. In the near-impossible scenario in which the supreme ruler of this island cried, it would never be heard of. So why in front of him?

"Lo siento, I- I'm sorry, sir." He glanced away out of respect. "I am irresponsible, and I deserve…"

His breath hitched when the king drew closer, and he fought off the reflex to run. In this household, it was true that he deserved everything the king brought upon him. He had been prepared for years, informed and shown just how terrible his situation could get. He took the risk, and it backfired completely. That was his own fault. He would have said otherwise if he were outside, but alas.

Once again subverting his expectations, the king did not attack him in any way. Instead, he did the most unthinkable thing in the world by coming forward and… Hugging him.

His father had never hugged him before.

"No, I'm sorry," he received a comforting pat on the back. "I let you get away, then sent him of all people after you. I thought it would only last a week or so."

Mariana nearly went limp, body numbing as his mind felt too much for him to handle. He returned the embrace, latching onto the silk cape he had buried his head into. Mariana swore he had run out of tears by now, and yet he sobbed like he hadn't had the chance to his whole life. His entire bodyweight was being held up by his father. This reliance was rewarded with an even longer speech that did not hold an ounce of hatred for him.

"I also didn't anticipate him to be so set on harming you. Are you bruised anywhere else?" Mariana choked out something similar enough to a 'no' after his second try. "That's a relief… Here, let's have you sit down."

Mariana had to pry himself away, and his struggle to must have not gone unnoticed, as he was guided along the path back to his bed. He sat on its edge and tried to catch his breath, but it was difficult with all the different factors causing his throat to close up.

Oh God, his blood had left such a stain. Mariana would wash it out himself, he'd tell Cucurucho as soon as he could form the words. He had to.

"I'll have a servant fetch some water," he was told, Cucurucho disappearing for a moment before a swift return. He beelined to Mariana's side, sitting next to him and offering his shoulder as a pillow. "Once he's back and you can speak, I have a favor to ask of you."

Mariana nodded, returning to his father's warmth. So long as he did this, maybe he was safe. There were no threats. He hadn't done so much as raise his voice. It didn't make sense, none of this made sense. But he was okay, he was starting to regain the ability to inhale, and his father was at his side. Not towering above him on a platform, not distancing himself, no–right here. Holding him. "Okay," he managed.

Cucurucho squeezed his hand and spoke with heavy resolve.

"Tell me everything."

Chapter Text

Mariana agreed with Cucurucho when he admitted that new methods of training were overdue. He found it a lot easier to put in the effort with the king's outward judgment almost completely gone. Mariana was told that any further punishment was unnecessary, too, since Charlie had done so much damage. The harm done certainly was a constant reminder of his mistake, it was difficult to sleep at night now.

Even after his throat's function was restored, he wasn't healed. Late hours were haunted by green eyes and whispers of how nice things would be once he was a king. He wished to leave behind every thought of that thief, but something about that annoyingly endearing voice just couldn't disappear. He cursed it nightly, and prayed that Charlie was suffering more than he.

He'd wake up from dreams about glowing water and hands holding him, sick to his stomach. This morning was no different. He was nauseous standing up, but at least the bile was no longer mixed with the need to cough and choke.

Mariana got dressed and fixed himself in the mirror, running the last of the water in his glass through his hair. His appearance wasn't something he cared much for in the past. Nowadays, he believed it was best for his reputation to start trying again. He also didn't want to disappoint his father, who had been awfully generous these past few weeks. For a while, Mariana assumed there were ulterior motives, but it was starting to become obvious that all along Cucurucho had only wanted to see his success.

Today was exciting. It was the first day since he'd returned that he would be able to go outside, on the floor. He'd only been permitted on the balcony connected to his room so far, but today, he and his father would be taking a walk together. There wasn't much of a garden left after years of neglect, but Mariana knew of a little flower field hidden in the forest that he would run off to every once in a while. He'd never been found there before, which was why it was one of his favorite spots.

Now, he'd be showing it to his father. Sort of ruined the point of the place, but it was still pretty, and he needed to give something back. There wasn't much of a point to a hiding place when he had lost all reason to hide.

He left his room and met the guard stationed outside his door (an understandable precaution, and a temporary one). They escorted him to the dining table, where he would be eating breakfast. Early meals were usually delivered to him, but due to the unique nature of this day, Mariana and Cucurucho would be eating breakfast together.

Similarly to how their dinners went, Cucurucho arrived shortly after Mariana and took his seat at the other head of the table. There were a little over ten chairs between them, reserved for the rare occasion of a meeting between advisors (or the even rarer occasion of an international meeting). The distance used to feel like more.

"Good morning, sir," Mariana smiled and bowed his head. Cucurucho mimicked the action.

"You slept well, I hope."

Not at all. "Of course. Things are much more comfortable at home."

"Wonderful."

They ate in silence. Mariana waited patiently for his father to finish his meal before standing and walking out with him. They wordlessly exited the room and made their way through the hallways leading to a side entrance. Guards and servants would freeze and bow when they saw their king and prince, Mariana giving each of them a light smile. He did not want to be feared nearly as much as his father.

"You seem happier these days," Cucurucho noted as they passed some guards at the gate. A pair followed behind them at a distance, out of earshot but keeping a close eye.

"I think I am," Mariana said. The sun had just finished rising, so there were hints of pink on the horizon. Mariana appreciated his ability to see the full vastness of the sky now that he wasn't bound to the windows.

There was nice shade under the trees. But within the forest, a clearing was made for the flowers to bask in the sun. Different shades of yellow had consistently been there for years now, and seeing them again felt like greeting an old friend.

Amid the daisies and marigolds, Cucurucho knelt down and discovered a singular white tulip. He picked it and turned it over in his hands, taking his time with it. Mariana sat by his side, watching. His father wasn't often distracted, nor was he tender. It was new to see him in such an environment. His shoulders relaxed, his demeanor given less thought.

Cucurucho's lips parted, but it must have taken a full minute before the words came. Mariana waited patiently.

"You had a sister."

Oh.

That's who she was.

He only saw the girl once or twice in a dream, a vague recollection of white hair and blurred facial features. She was only in the most memorable ones in which death was also involved. Unlikely to be a coincidence.

"I've never told you about her, have I?"

"No, you haven't." Mariana brought his knees up to his chest. "But I think I remember a little. Her hair was like yours."

"And an advisor had the nerve to tell me to cut it," Cucurucho muttered. He continued to stare at the flower in his hand, treating it with care. "She liked to read. She was learning how to write by the time she was three, eager as ever to grow up. Even then, she never got the chance…"

Mariana averted his gaze. He wasn't sure how to act in personal conversations with his father, he had never been in one before.

"Not many know she was ever alive. I hid her from the world because I thought that danger lay outside." He paused. "I was wrong."

The question of what exactly happened nagged at his brain, hoping to escape. Mariana bit it back, reprimanding his curiosity. "I'm sure she would have been a lovely princess," he opted for. His voice was quiet. Careful.

"A lovely queen, too."

Mariana picked at his nails to pass the time. Cucurucho seemed to be done going into detail about her, she was a sensitive subject. Mariana redirected. "She wasn't my sister, though, was she?"

Cucurucho turned to him. He worried his brows and smiled. "I always told people that you looked much more like your mother, and that you'd take after me. Every day, it gets more obvious that both were lies."

"Who was my mother?" He had no memory of parents before the king. Barely anything from his childhood in general, but quite literally nothing in his mind contained people who resembled him. Trying to picture them was essentially staring at a void.

"A hunter, so was your father. They spent nearly all their time camped out in the forest, and visited town to sell their extras." He tucked the tulip away and collected himself. "They wandered too far one day, and killed a deer on my grounds. The punishment was only a few years in prison, but your father died in his cell. I couldn't let myself send such a young child out with only one parent that had no home, so I sent your mother off on her own."

He wondered if his mother was still alive. If there was a chance he could still meet her, since he had never gotten to. Was she his first word? Could he even speak by the time she was gone?

"You may not actually look like her, but you surely are just as stubborn as she was." It was a joke in poor taste. The mental image was not nearly as humorous as the sentiment.

Mariana was beginning to notice a pattern. Four times now, a child had been ripped away from their parent. Their parent, a criminal, but only by the king's law. Was there really no better option?

"There were others." Like Bagi and Cellbit. Those that his dreams tried to show him, those that they had dinner with all those years ago.

Cucurucho nodded. "The castle was practically an orphanage."

"Why am I the prince, then?"

"You were the least troublesome, for a start." Mariana found that somewhat hard to believe. He had been nothing but trouble for the king in recent years. "You were also the first to tell me… When Hope died. All of the other children wanted to hide it. They pretended they didn't know."

A distant cry of the incident being an accident rang in his ears. "Because one of them did it."

Cucurucho hesitated. "Do you remember who it was?"

Mariana shook his head. He had tried, but his mind refused to inform him so much of his trauma. It was a miracle that such a morbid scene was even something a dream provided to him.

His father didn't provide it to him either. He moved on. "I was hoping that being strict to you and those around you would help. I didn't want to lose a second child." He took in a deep breath. "And yet, I still did. Almost permanently again."

"I'm sorry," He said almost immediately. "I will do better."

"I know you will."

"Do you have the time to teach me?" Mariana asked. A burst of motivation had taken over the past few weeks, but he didn't think that was enough. He either did research independently or a tutor he barely knew would try to teach him about national affairs and proper etiquette. He wanted someone with experience, he now realized.

Cucurucho pondered it for a moment, staring out into the clearing. Realization struck his face, setting it into a much more pleasant expression. "I think I just might."

Mariana waited longer than expected for his father to arrive at the dining table. When he did, it was with unusual haste. He didn't sit down, and instead went straight to Mariana's side of the table to address him. "I'll need you to trust me on this."

A strong start. "Okay."

"It's very important, and very difficult. I hope it will help teach you, though." Mariana was skeptical, but accepted it by the time his father had left. A lesson without his presence was not what he expected.

The door across the room was left open. Uneven footsteps echoed into the room, along with a monotone "Please, do not resist." An obvious struggle could he heard, proven by the fact that the phrase was repeated multiple times.

A strained sound escaped the monotone voice—pain. Soon after, a guard appeared, shoving his captive into the door.

No.

Said captive turned his head so that his face wasn't being smashed against the door. His chest rose and fell in dramatics, his struggle clearly taking up an amount of energy that he couldn't maintain.

No. No. No. No. No no no no no no nononononononono he's supposed to be gone. Why is he back he hates this man he hates him so much he wants him fucking dead why is he here.

Charlie had certainly seen better days. He had lost weight, it seemed, haggard appearance doing no favors for him. His eyes landed on Mariana and, strangely enough, he relaxed. The guard had a much easier time throwing him into the king's chair. He was promptly chained to the legs of the table by his arms and left behind.

Charlie looked at the door closing behind him, then back at Mariana. He straightened his posture so that he could properly bow his head. "Your Highness." He spoke with a degree of reverence that Mariana did not expect.

He was restrained and distanced. He wasn't dangerous. He wasn't dangerous. "I thought you were busy with your prize."

"She didn't like the replacement dad, I didn't like the replacement daughter." Charlie's voice was raspy, and he took notice of it. He could barely reach the cup of water that he lifted to his mouth. "So I got her real dad back. Of course, reuniting a family is a crime here, so..."

"You trespassed and freed a convicted criminal," Mariana stated plainly as the first course was delivered. Dinner with Charlie it was. He could chew him out, he'd hold no remorse. He simply… didn't want to. This ordeal was so incredibly avoidable. "Not to mention your past criminal record."

"Did you look over it? I find it pretty impressive." He had his fork ready before anything even reached his plate. His serving must have been only half of what Mariana had received.

"No." When Charlie's smile became forced, Mariana knew that he didn't need to say anything more.

A few minutes passed before Charlie spoke up again, surely just to annoy him. "God, I haven't eaten all week, this is good-"

"Why are you here?"

Charlie blinked. "I dunno. Cucurucho sent me."

"The king."

"Huh?"

"Or 'His Highness,' if you still have any respect in you."

Mariana watched as Charlie's face twisted into a grimace. "You sound like him."

"A good sign, no?" Perhaps this was a test. His father presented it to him as a lesson, so there was something to gain. He only needed to figure out what exactly it was. "I should sound like a king before I become one."

"Not him, though. He was someone you were afraid of, someone you hated." Charlie leaned forward. "Where did that go? What did he do?"

Mariana shrugged. "Something new, I don't know. It's nicer here. Nicer than you were."

"Okay, but-" He cut himself off, contemplating his words with a wrinkle between his brows. "But legislation hasn't changed, it's not better for anyone else. He can sweet talk you all he wants, he's still chopping off any heads that looked at him weird."

"People like you?" Mariana placed his hands in his lap. Satisfying his hunger was not as appealing as an argument, now that it had started.

"Who are 'people like me?'"

"Liars, thieves, and people who only think about themselves. They don't deserve luxury."

Charlie scoffed. "Yeah, well your beloved king says they don't deserve lives."

"Will you be executed?" What he wouldn't give to host it. To shout out with a smile the order to pull the rope up. Just this once.

"Eventually," Charlie said, unbothered. "Not sure when though. He's keeping me alive for something."

This, probably. Hopefully it would be a short-lived experiment, Mariana had said his piece. Though he didn't enjoy the fact that he wasn't getting the last word in. "Exciting. I'll be there."

Charlie cocked his head to one side. "Thought you didn't like the death sentence."

"I like it when your name is on it."

"Where's the line, then? When you give one exception, more slip through. I watched it with Cucurucho." He frowned. "You two are so different, I never expected to see it with you… Seriously, what happened?"

"You happened, Charlie."

A beat of silence. "Believe me, I wasn't excited to hold you hostage."

"Really? You sounded happy." Given his cheery attitude during their trip and the amount of jokes he tried to tell all throughout.

During their conversation, Charlie's cadence got more and more threatening. Not intimidating, especially not in his circumstances, but he wasn't hiding the fact that he was getting upset. Mariana wished to continue pushing that button. "Happy to get my daughter back after nearly a year."

Mariana crossed his arms. "I doubt you gave her a good life. Maybe you didn't deserve to see her again."

"And what do you deserve?" Charlie stood up, his handcuffs keeping him slouched but the motion being enough to startle Mariana. He stood up as well—the last thing he wanted was to be below Charlie. "What have you done to earn this life?"

Mariana opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He searched his brain for a proper example. He smiled at his servants, treated them with respect… His father said that he had been chosen, but not based on anything significant to Charlie.

He wouldn't allow himself to flounder in front of Charlie. "I don't have to prove myself to you."

"Only to your country." Charlie relaxed and fell back into his seat.

Mariana stepped away from his place at the table and made his way over. He took strange pleasure in the way Charlie winced when he craned his head upward; he must not have been used to looking up at people. He should practice more often.

"What do you want?" He spoke through gritted teeth, putting a hand on the table, pinning down the utensils underneath it. Since Charlie was so insistent on running his mouth, Mariana assumed he was done eating anyways.

Charlie stared at him for a long while with an expression Mariana couldn't quite read. His eyebrows slightly furrowed and his lips curved, almost pouting. "This is wrong," he finally said. "You're wrong. Different."

Funny. He had remembered thinking the same of Charlie a week ago.

"Good." He'd rather not be perceived as the same vulnerable, gullible man he was when he ran away.

Mariana picked up Charlie's plate and brought it to the door. He creaked it open, and greeted a guard that was stationed directly outside. "Can you bring Diablo in?" He asked. The guard was confused at the request, asking for clarification that he wanted a dog at the dinner table, and Mariana confirmed it.

Mariana knelt down and placed Charlie's plate on the floor. He could see Charlie still fixated on his meal in his peripheral. He was hungry, wasn't he? If he was telling the the truth about not eating for a whole week, starving.

Familiar silver fur peeked through the door, then quickly ran across the room and straight to the food waiting patiently just for it. Mariana had never been much of a dog person. Mostly because this one in particular had learned his scent and would rat out his hiding places. The name was courtesy of Mariana, he had hated the dog for as long as it had been around.

It had been a while since Mariana had seen the dog. Diablo deserved a reward for that. And he loved meat.

Mariana pet his dog (though maybe not his anymore, the army had gotten more use out of the pet than anyone and Mariana can't remember the last time he fed it) and quietly encouraged him, telling him he was doing a wonderful job.

"You know how to stay quiet and be grateful for your food, don't you?" He added in-between his reinforcements.

Charlie stayed silent for the rest of the night, eventually earning him the third course. His eyes didn't look fearful nearly as much as they looked… disturbed. Mariana didn't care which negative emotion it was, so long as Charlie learned.

He was taken away eventually. Mariana waited a moment for his father's footsteps to return; they eventually did. Cucurucho came to his side once again, a smile on his face. "How was that?"

Annoying, painful, difficult—all obvious answers. But this was a lesson, this was a trial given to him for a reason. There was a purpose to what the king did, and this was something Mariana had asked for. So the correct answer should be, "Rewarding."

"You'll have to deal with many similar people as a ruler," his father said. "I was worried you'd run. I'm proud of you for staying."

"I'm done running." He was far too tired to try anymore. And, of course, there was no reason to. His father was proud of him, caring for him, teaching him. He was home. No one ran from their home.

The king did not warn Mariana the second time that he was replaced by Charlie at dinner. What a pleasant surprise that was.

Mariana was satisfied with the first course, not a word said throughout it. Of course, Charlie couldn't keep that damned mouth of his shut for too long.

"Apparently, Carre managed to sail out. Slipped onto a trade boat. According to Quackity, at least." Charlie turned his fork over in his hands, eyeing the handpicked vegetables on his plate for a moment. He set his fork down. "A shame the king's law couldn't hold him back."

"A shame?"

"I'm happy for him, obviously. It's just that…" Charlie looked him in the eye. "I wish the decree was enforced a bit more. It's one of the only good things Cucurucho has done."

Something Charlie liked about the island's law? Fork found miles away from the kitchen. "He's not perfect, I guess."

Charlie squinted, as if he was trying to solve a confusing equation. "You don't like that law?"

Mariana shrugged. "It makes trade difficult. Other countries don't want to buy from us. I understand wanting to trap criminals, but it should be lifted."

"Huh."

Mariana disliked the way he was being studied. Charlie wouldn't stop looking at him, like he was trying to work a problem out. Or plan something. A plot?

Whatever it was, he needed to stamp it out.

"You look like shit."

And yet Charlie smiled. "I don't feel the part."

Mariana frowned. He should. He should feel like shit, not only because he deserved it. Of course, he should hopefully feel his worst at all times to prove that God is real, but it was difficult to believe that he could be alright. He had a black eye and bruises up his arms, continuing until they weren't visible past the sleeves.

"What happened?" He tried to hide his curiosity, sounding bored would ensure his words weren't confused with concern.

Charlie scoffed. "So now I can talk?"

A petty remark was not what he asked for. He opened his mouth to say such, but Charlie beat him to it.

"Sorry."

"Good."

…Wait, what the hell?

He had apologized without the command to do so.

"Cucurucho paid me a visit. I guess he didn't like the conclusion you came to during our last conversation." Charlie tried to brush breadcrumbs off of his hand, but they ultimately just spread across both. "He doesn't hurt you anymore, but he still needs something to hit. He thinks that breaking people will fix them."

Mariana stared. That- didn't make sense. It was always verbal; emotional. His father was not a physically violent man. Right, yes, Charlie was lying. There were two truths about the situation that Mariana knew for a fact: his father was nonviolent, and Charlie was a chronic liar.

Charlie had tried to escape, and fought a losing battle against a hardworking guard. That must have been the case.

Charlie's shoulders slumped as he deflated on himself. "You don't believe me."

Mariana raised an eyebrow. "Why would I?" He drank from his glass to speak with ease. "I've known my father all my life. He doesn't fight. He does mind games, messes with your head, things like that."

"You think my daughter died because she cried a little too hard?"

"I think your daughter died because her dad was wasting his time."

"She was stuck here for a year. He kept her alive for a year, and she conveniently died as soon as I was allowed to see her again."

Mariana tugged lightly on a stray strand of fabric sticking from the end of the tablecloth, hoping it would separate itself from the whole. It kept going, though, stretching out until he gave up on it.

He averted his eyes, searching around the room for an argument. A useless endeavor. He couldn't keep disappointing himself. Disappointing his father.

Charlie took in a breath. Hesitation. Another lie, Mariana predicted. "The only reason you haven't been broken was because he was focusing on all the other kids."

Mariana wanted to interrupt every time he heard Charlie speak. He wanted to rip his sentences, tear each letter apart until they were nothing but atoms. He wanted Charlie to forget how to use his words because he always used them wrong. And when you use words wrong, you shouldn't use them at all.

He let Charlie continue.

"And I know he'll send his guards in to take me, to ruin my meal—he's listening, you know that, right? He stands just outside when we talk. He doesn't want you to know-" On cue, the doors behind him opened. Armed guards marched in on the same beat. Surely the king wouldn't be so obvious. "And if I tell you now, and I say it's bad, you'll tell me it's good just to spite me. If you just-"

One of them tried to cover his mouth, only for him to stomp on their foot and force them to flinch away. They used much more force to stand him up while their partner unchained him from the table. "Just listen to me. Without the bias, without him over your shoulder—I know you know what's right and wrong. I can't watch-" He was shoved down onto the table to have his hands tied behind his back, no care for the fact that his shirt would get covered in crumbs nor that his bruises would be pricked by that fork. Not that Mariana cared either. "I can't watch this happen to you. You're a good person, better than me."

Mariana was aware of the fact, but never expected to hear it from Charlie, the man he'd been attempting to terrorize whenever they spoke. At least he was self-aware? Mariana almost wanted to credit himself for it. He wasn't sure how he felt about that though… The 'training' of sorts reminded him of his father, and- that was supposed to be a good thing, right?

"You're better than me," Charlie repeated, barely resisting against being dragged around the corner.

Cucurucho appeared at his side mere moments later, a hand on his chin. He seemed upset, based on the slight imperfections in his posture. Mariana was going to clear things up, but didn't even get past a "What—" before he was interrupted.

"You understand why I monitor your conversations with him." He stared at him with wide eyes. Mariana couldn't tell if it was a panicked or threatening expression.

"Of course." He bowed his head. "To keep me safe."

"Right. He's convinced you before, I don't want to risk it happening again. He's a dangerous man to trust." Mariana moreso thought it was from a physical standpoint—he would be there in case Charlie broke free and attacked him. But, of course, the king never considered violence. That was why Mariana was correct, and further proof that Charlie was lying. God, he nearly considered hearing him out for half a second, could you imagine?

Mariana stood. "Thank you, sir."

Cucurucho watched him a few moments longer before nodding, satisfied. "Go to your room."

He didn't have to deal with it anymore. His father would take control and handle the situation for him. He could spend some time alone.

Staring out the window sounded nice. So he watched the stars slowly inch their way across the sky outside his room, sitting on his windowsill in complete silence. Not a footstep passed by his secluded room, they were only allowed here when the sun was up.

Mariana pushed the window out and let it bounce back, the lock acting like a slingshot for him to play with. And then he realized- there was a lock on his window. The window he had to open to get to his balcony—an unconventional thing, but a good and common way for him to get fresh air. It had been years since his window had been locked, and now suddenly it was back? What the fuck? He thought he was doing well. He was. Even if he faltered during his last conversation, this had to have been installed beforehand.

Mariana scoffed, as if anyone could hear his silent complaint and sympathize. He then abandoned his post and collapsed into bed, knowing that soon his brain would force him to think about the pleas he heard at dinner. He'd never entertain them, he held too much disdain for the thief that had ruined him. They would bother him for a while, though, he could tell already.

Other kids. Charlie mentioned them. He had also insisted that his daughter had been kept here for a year, but Mariana had never seen a child walking the castle grounds. Not once. If there was any truth to Charlie's words, which there absolutely could not be, the king was hiding something from him. Not necessarily surprising, although disheartening. He wanted to be trusted. He had spent the last month studying and working practically flawlessly. And he had achieved absolutely nothing from it.

Luckily for him, Charlie had lied more than any other person on the planet, so none of that was actually true! It couldn't be. Because he simply didn't want it to be.

That was how this whole thing worked, wasn't it? With the snap of his fingers, the king got anything he wanted. Each day Mariana got closer to being the king, so he should start practicing. He wanted to forget Charlie (which couldn't be too hard now, after tonight the chances of him being invited to dinner again had drastically decreased) and all that he had tried to say tonight, so he would. He was a prince. He should get what he wants.

He should get what he wants.

He should, and yet, it wasn't happening. His mind was his greatest tormentor. Sometimes he'd wish to be rid of it. He thought he could control it, but that thought was revealing itself as one of its many tricks.

It instead preferred to revisit the outside world. He clearly didn't look close enough at it when he had the chance. Every time he tried to recall anything from it, it didn't last long before unkempt brown hair poked into his imagined view. He'd receive a smile, a hug around the neck, and then the distance would close and Mariana had to force his eyes open to bring the daydream to a halt. He'd have his mouth covered by a hand instantly, making his heavy breathing rather difficult to perform.

The undeniable truth was that Charlie was apart of the outside world. He reminded himself of this to stop himself from idealizing it. The castle was a better and safer space for him.

The outside world had a man who would look at you sweetly and hold your hand. He would guide you out of the cage you were trapped in and hold you when you began to shiver. He'd tell stories to make you laugh, he'd show you marvelous wonders of the world, he'd fight for you when you were in danger.

He was a bad man.

The inside world was lonely, when the closest that the man could get was across the dinner table and the closest your father ever got was that one time he hugged you. It was also cold, you fell asleep wrapped in only your own arms, and a blanket barely made it any better. It was darker inside, less sunlight was let in and when the sun disappeared no one held up a torch for you. It was lonely and cold and dark.

These were good things.

Chapter Text

Charlie was horrendously in love.

Discovering this had been nothing more than a curse. It disgusted him how insanely infatuated he was with the prince. It barely took a week for this strange, horrid, sickening mix of emotions to brew up in his stomach and it hadn't left since. Every time he allowed himself to be selfish, the fact that he was desperately in love with Mariana would be further cemented and tempt him away from his goal.

But it was true that there was someone he would do more for. The whole reason he ever stepped outside and did as Bad had asked him, the only thing that had slipped through his grasp and into the king's greedy hands. Unfortunately, and expectedly, there was a fine print in the words he had said. The offer could not be fulfilled when the king was so fixated on his selective karma.

The last conversation they had was such a funny way to use Cucurucho's beloved Hammurabi's Code, this iteration being "a daughter for a daughter." In that moment, he truly believed that they would wheel out the corpse for him to see and take home. Strangely enough, this was not the case.

No, he was gifted with a replacement.

Sunny was a very energetic girl. An conclusion that was easy to draw based on her insistent kicking and screaming and hitting as she begged to see her pa again. Charlie told her in return that he was just as upset, he wanted to see his Flippa again. When he mentioned his daughter's name, she stopped.

"Flippa? Juanaflippa?" She had asked, voice suddenly dropping in volume tenfold. "Do you know where she went? I haven't seen her in weeks, I'm really worried." There was his confirmation, for the last shreds of denial trapped in his hollowed soul to finally take in.

"She's... Gone now."

"Gone where?"

He didn't want to say it. Didn't want to break it to the kid, and didn't want to confirm it. He wasn't ready."You ask too many questions."

He watched as Sunny—dramatically as humanly possible—rolled her eyes. "She said you were the best. But I think you're lame."

"Whatever you say." He didn't expect his own voice to break at the end. She said he was the best. She would be so disappointed in him now. Sunny was right.

Sunny adamantly kept her arms crossed until they reached The Nest. Charlie assumed she'd prefer to go back to her own home, so he took her there. He kept himself awake all night, just in case anyone tried to break in and take her back. He hadn't trusted the king before, but he was much more paranoid now. He had thought no harm would be done if his daughter was returned—in fact, it would take weight off of the king's shoulders. Charlie doubted he'd have much motivation to keep working with FOBO if he got the most important person in the world back in his arms. Alas, the world never offered him much good. His one purpose without her was to spite Cucurucho, really.

Sunny did not like having him around, as it meant Tubbo was still away. He held nothing against her for it. He didn't take kindly to Cucurucho when he first lost his parents. Of course, Charlie considered himself a better man than Cucurucho, and so he would actually be helpful. Tubbo had much more purpose in this world than he, so it only made sense for them to swap.

Charlie stayed behind on purpose, ensuring that the guards on the outskirts were distracted and making a show out of it so that everyone he passed by during his drawn out arrest wouldn't think to leave. Tubbo seemed thoroughly confused when Charlie fell behind, but never stopped. He had a home to return to, after all, and people waiting for him.

Charlie had nothing.

It had been the case for a year now. Once upon a time, he had a family and sense of community. Muerte Roja wasn't the kindest piece of land, but it had wonderful people. He used to work just to get by, stealing from the rich in some meaningless quest for vengeance. He'd hated the crown his whole life. He figured that was all there was to do for a long portion of his existence.

Juanaflippa distanced herself from the group as well. She thought like him. And she didn't fear him. He could see it in everyone else's eyes, hear the caution in their voices. They had a good reason to be wary of him, but it seemed that she never heard of it. Either that or she didn't care.

Charlie didn't know how to raise a kid, but she wouldn't leave him alone. He was forced to ask around and make friends with the other caretakers so that he'd get proper advice. He had a family, for the first time since he was… What, ten? An argument may be made for sixteen, when he officially ran away.

Becoming family also meant they were no longer threatened by him. Peace came at a price, he supposed. A shame that he couldn't just request things to get a conversation anymore. He had to make an appeal, as if he were one of FOBO's useless lawyers, and provide a pitch and plan that at least half of the residents would have to agree to. It was a slow and grueling process.

He assumed they'd tell him to bargain for more when Bad gave him the initial offer. Charlie predicted that if he did, though, the king would simply reduce the reward.

He only told them once the prince was at his side. They had to let him continue. They had to help. One child saved was better than none, after all.

Mariana was beautiful. He deserved the world. And so Charlie had given him a portion of it, in the form of the island he was set to inherit. Charlie did not regret turning him in, he only regretted hurting Mariana in the process.

The romance was not planned. Charlie felt a tad bit guilty after they kissed, but he couldn't help himself. He had scraped his cheek against the rock—Mariana hadn't actually knocked him down hard enough to do that, so Charlie took matters into his own hands—and Mariana held it. Charlie swore that every time he'd lay down and close his eyes he could still feel the warmth there. The hand on the ground next to his torso, its thumb grazing the fabric of his shirt. A worried expression, because he cared and he was worried and all for him and him alone.

Mariana had loved him once. Certainly not anymore, Charlie knew in advance that he'd have to cope with the fact. He usually didn't allow himself the time to cry, but he will admit that the night before he dragged Mariana away from his (their?) home, he was kept up a bit longer than the latter. Maybe someday Mariana would understand that he belonged in the castle.

Unlike his father. Mariana was infinitely better than Cucurucho. Charlie worried that Mariana would have changed after spending so much time under Cucurucho's wing, but the thought of that possibility disappeared within the first hour of knowing him.

(Cucurucho had always complained about the fact that, no matter what he did or how young they were upon separation from their family, every child he took in acted too much like their biological parents. Thank god for this phenomenon. He wasn't sure what he'd do if a man as perfectly sculpted as Mariana began to preach the castle's celebration of pain.)

Mariana would make for the perfect king. Not only did he deserve the world, the world deserved him back. These people had suffered under the rule of a greedy and corrupt king for decades, but soon enough the day would arrive that he was replaced. Charlie hoped he'd be alive just to confirm it happened.

Charlie had guaranteed the kingdom's happiness. He had given Tubbo his happiness. He had left his gold behind, along with a note saying that FOBO was free to use it. They could finish building their office. Maybe build a house.

Life was at balance, Charlie thought, staring up at the corner formed by stone walls and iron bars. All would be well in good time. He didn't have to intervene anymore.

…Until he had been ushered out of his cell. He assumed he was being marched to his death. The guard was rough with him and they took a wrong turn, so it was only natural for Charlie to begin to struggle against him. Then they took another wrong turn, into an area Charlie hadn't seen in years. Cucurucho had barred him from accessing more personal areas even when Charlie worked for him. But he recognized this hallway.

His second incorrect assumption was that he would be having a conversation with the king himself. Perhaps one last chance to sell out old friends.

Mariana was sitting at the table. This both relieved and confused Charlie. Of course, he adored seeing him again, why wouldn't he? It didn't make the slightest bit of sense, though. Surely Cucurucho knew that Charlie would enjoy this, right? Even if Mariana hated him, degraded him, Charlie considered it a miracle to be in his presence again. The two of them alone.

The issue that soon became apparent was that Mariana had changed. Charlie expected scorn, yes, but not a complete switch in morals. He mentioned the death sentence as though he were commenting on the weather. Like the king would. And he believed that this was a positive change when Charlie called him out. Sure, days stretched on and on in loneliness, only one visitor having given him the date. He knew it couldn't have been long, though. Such an extreme shift seemed too difficult to cement in so little time.

Charlie tested it, inspired by something Mariana had told him.

"You happened."

Charlie himself was the root of this. So if Charlie were to say something he didn't believe, put the king on a pedestal by praising a law of his, then—

"He's not perfect, I guess."

Then Mariana spoke against him. It was not support for the king, simply hatred for him. The issue would be resolved upon Charlie's impending death.

Charlie had been trying to formulate a way to tell Mariana about the other kids without showing his pessimism for it. Unfortunately, it was far too obvious that he wouldn't take kindly to the place that had killed his daughter. There was no way to manipulate a conversation. He tried to appeal with honesty. He practically begged for Mariana to visit him.

He hadn't yet. Charlie would die before he ever did. Unless Mariana was the one to execute him. Charlie would prefer that, actually. If it truly did make him happy.

Rotting was a strange feeling. It was slow and tiring. There was a moss of some kind starting to grow on the walls, it would move on to him eventually. He sometimes imagined what it would feel like to have it grow in his lungs and throat. How long he would last. If a crowd of insects would feast on his skin once he was gone. If they'd get impatient and start early.

The less that guards came in to force him up, the harder it was to stand. He didn't like sitting in place, so he'd shift onto his side when he got the motivation. A fresh new view of his cage.

He didn't move outside of that, and yet he was tired. Limp. If he was thrown across the room again, he's sure he would ragdoll. Wouldn't that be fun…

Quackity would bring him meals every once in a while. His physical state and internal clock informed him that these were far too spaced out to be healthy. He certainly wasn't having daily meals. He assumed they were weekly. Just enough to keep him alive. For some reason. There was no reason to give Charlie this space to fill, the dinners were over.

Hope used to play with her food before she ate. Charlie wondered if it was a habit she picked up from her father.

He hurt a lot these days. Even though the torture had stopped. His eye still stung from where it had been hit against those metal bars. His arms would numb eventually, but he wasn't sure that the marks would disappear. It didn't look like he had any skin underneath the purples and reds.

Maybe his bruises would blossom out into a flower. One that Mariana would hold for a moment in the palm of his hand, one that he'd pick the petals from, one by one, asking if the flower could be loved or not. No matter the answer, he'd still wither away, but maybe he'd have the pleasure of being kept in a vase somewhere. Visible during his last moments. The occasional glance gracing him when Mariana would pass by. Just maybe.

He'd prefer rotting under Mariana's gaze than Cucurucho's. Both would smile, but only one deserved the happiness it would bring. Charlie had once hoped to outlive Cucurucho. A shame, how slim the chance now was that he would.

A door opened, accompanied by a sound only comparable to nails on a chalkboard. With the metal door having lost its topmost hinge and the others well on their way, its base scraped against the floor whenever it moved. Charlie believed that the effort Quackity had to put in just to open the door was too much. Especially for someone who hated him.

Today, it seemed Etoiles had chosen to waste his time here as well. He was the first to enter, Quackity following behind him. Etoiles carried a metal tray full of whatever leftovers and scraps they were allowed to put on it. He set it down and slid it under the space between the bars and jagged flooring. Charlie stared down at it. Someone at the castle seemed to love meat and hate the skin—this was the third time in a row he had received scraps of the seasoned shell. He didn't mind, he'd just mix it in with whatever other foods he was gifted. This meal brought mashed potatoes and a singular slice of bread. Possibly his luckiest catch yet.

He wasn't hungry enough yet. He saved meals for when he felt like his stomach was going to cave in on itself. It only felt empty.

"Etoiles. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Etoiles bit his lip and looked back to Quackity, who had shut the door behind him and had his back between it and the wall. As if he were guarding it, afraid someone might barge in. Quackity's expression held discomfort, which lead Etoiles to speak up first.

"You helped Tubbo's kid. She wasn't yours."

They were observations, said like observations, but Charlie knew that they were questions. "She was a friend of Juanaflippa's."

"Grouped together like that, they are all friends. We were all friends too. You have to be." No matter how much hate everyone held for Charlie at first for getting them into this whole mess, the environment was far too hostile for them to focus on that. It was true, when forced together in such a wretched place, the only thing to keep one sane is their fellow sufferers. Bonds are bound to form between every person present. All of those children were surely friends of Juanaflippa by now.

Charlie tilted his head. "And what can I do for them in this cell?"

"Eat." Quackity interrupted, leg bouncing beneath him. "Get some strength. You're gonna help us get our kids back."

Charlie raised his eyebrows. "Am I?" He was intrigued to hear what threat they had come up with. Death and torture were both already anticipated either way, so motivation must have been hard to brainstorm.

They glanced at each other. Quackity stepped forward reluctantly, not even finishing the stiff movement. Practically going back on it, actually. He dipped his head and stared at the ground before whispering, "…Please."

Charlie couldn't say that was what he was expecting. Humility was uncommon with Quackity. Begging impossible.

"You have nothing to lose," Etoiles said. He was right.

"And nothing to gain." A flip switched in Quackity, he took in a breath to yell. "But sure. Might as well piss Cucurucho off on my way out."

Etoiles grinned as Charlie poked at his meal. "You haven't changed."

"I think I did," He said, twirling his misshapen fork between his fingers. He didn't have much of an appetite, but he had to eat. "Back now, though."

"We will sneak in daily meals," Etoiles said, much more conversational now that Charlie had agreed. "One of them will have a key inside. Once you get it, you will walk out on your own and run to the throne room. Guards will think you're after the king. Everyone will be following you."

Charlie couldn't control his smile. This sounded chaotic; fun. He'd most definitely be executed shortly after whatever this was.

"While everyone's confused and distracted, we're gonna break out the kids." Quackity had straightened up. "We're tired of waiting. After all these years, you'd think Cucurucho would do something for them, to repay us."

"I wouldn't think so, actually." Charlie said, practically just to be petty. "I realized early on that he couldn't ever respect us."

He wondered what would have changed had Quackity listened and joined him on that carriage to Muerte Roja. He had considered inviting Etoiles as well, but that man was born to be a hunter. They were preached to about loyalty to the crown so often that it had infected their minds. A little parasite that told them to bow, told them to ignore people's begging, told them sometimes to kill. Etoiles appeared least affected by the conflict it caused, which worked in the king's favor. Unfortunately, Etoiles had empathy. Entrusting him with training the next generation of bounty hunters had been a perfect mistake from Cucurucho.

Quackity rolled his eyes, and Charlie started on eating. His fork was misshapen and couldn't hold nearly as much on it as he would have liked.

"We can't stay long." Etoiles had already begun to walk away. Quackity began dragging the door open. "If we could, I would train with you. You need to be ready to fight."

Charlie saluted halfheartedly, though he meant his allegiance. "Oh, I will be."

He was not used to training solo. Cucurucho pushed an ideal of bounty hunters not caring for anyone other than themselves, but mainly had them train with each other. Ever since they had been repurposed—turned from children into weapons—they had been instructed to spar with one another. A winner would only be declared once someone gave up, and whoever relented was shamed by the king himself for their weakness before being deprived of all human contact for a day.

He started with stretching. His limbs were not cold enough to be frozen, though they wanted to be. He eased them into each movement. Now was not the time to push himself. Now was not the time for error.

Charlie never lost once. He had passed out a few times, yes, but Etoiles and Cellbit couldn't bring themselves to continue to hit his unconscious form. Cucurucho decided that this meant they had been the ones to surrender. Charlie would be gifted a form of solitary confinement regardless, as none of the other children wanted to have anything to do with him for months.

Pacing was an easy way to tell his body that it was time for some action. He could distantly feel his heart beat again, and after some time, the heat that radiated off of him reminded him that more than one temperature existed. He tended to forget silly things like that whenever he ended up completely isolated from the rest of the world.

The fighting turned into training once they were "set free." They battled one another alongside the kingdom guard, taking notes and advice from them. They were taught how to wield a variety of weapons, and learned how to get them by disarming their foe. Combat was constantly on Charlie's mind, along with a neverending train of thought of what he could possibly steal in a room before making an escape through any of the routes he mentally mapped out. Cucurucho, whilst teaching him how to catch and slaughter criminals, had also taught him how to be one.

His legs were incredibly important to his success. If there was anything he absolutely needed to do when the time came, it was run. But when they got too sore for him to keep walking, he figured he should do something with his arms as well. He'd probably have to punch someone. And if he didn't have to, he'd sure like to anyways. He flexed his hands out and stared at them. They had only been used to pick up a fork these last few weeks, and yet they trembled as though they had just witnessed a murder. They needed to be ready to cause one if need be. Charlie put his palms to the jagged floor and let his body weight rest on them, wincing at the pain that shot through his palms as they was stung by the poorly crafted structure. He did not shift over. Might as well get used to it now.

He split apart families. The children did not have the blessing of being given a new home afterwards. Charlie didn't think to help, as his experience proved it was not worth the hassle. They were better off growing up on their own. They'd turn out to be greater people than him.

Charlie wasn't sure how to count time—seconds were an imaginary agreed upon amount that his body did not automatically track for him. He counted the beats of his heart instead. It was quick, difficult to catch up with. He chased it like a fox would a rabbit, round and round until the fox tripped and he did not trust himself when his mind said he had hit the number three-hundred.

The fox used to be in better shape, more capable of stalking its prey. Lies spilled off of its tongue like flowing water would from any great height. Rabbits marveled at the sight, whether or not they maintained their distance. It worked eventually. Some took the easy way and passed quietly in their sleep. Others were curious and wanted to know what it was like to bleed. Charlie had previously wondered what it would be like to see the life escape a person's body. To him, it looked like they realized they were trapped inside themselves up until the lights in their eyes disappeared. The pure peace that came from that made him believe that death was, somehow, freeing.

At some point, someone must have put rocks in its mouth. Lying was difficult. Speaking was difficult. Nothing flowed out easily. The water was scarce. The fox had feasted on it for far too long, and the rain that it had betrayed would no longer be visiting.

The rain did, however, leave behind one last rabbit. It did not quiver or shriek as the others did. It stood completely still. It was not sure what to do—what it could do. And so it waited, watching the fox. The fox would take a step forward, and the rabbit would finally move to take a step back. The fox would make a noise and the rabbit's ears would droop as though to block it out. The fox would mimic it and the rabbit—

Well, actually. Charlie wasn't quite sure what noise a rabbit made. If any. The rabbit made one nonetheless.

So did the door. That sound reserved to sting his ears rung out, Quackity rushed in and slipped him his meal, and ran. Only a few moments of rest lay between the opening and closing of the door, the terrible scrape of metal against rock.

The visits were getting shorter and shorter, Charlie had noticed. It was impossible to do so forever.

He searched his meal thoroughly before eating. He wouldn't put it past them to hide it well, both for lack of wanting to be caught and perhaps the small desire that Charlie would chip a tooth on it before noticing. No matter how grateful they could be for his help, they'd still despise him by the end of the day. This was not something he lamented over, only a fact of his life. He had learned that it was best he keep track of the facts of his life because they often threatened to slip away from him.

In loneliness, it was amplified. Shapes that did not exist danced across his vision. If he distanced himself from the floor and stared down at it for a minute, he would see tiny ants swiftly crawl out of each crack and crevice and pore of the stone beneath him, gathered in an army. They would move in patterns, carrying nothing with them on their meaningless trek past him. He'd occasionally smell blood, he wasn't sure if that was real or not given that some must have stained him somewhere yet he couldn't find it. His hands would twitch as though burned after being static for too long. Sometimes he would hear a door creak open, but given that the sound was of a wooden door, he needn't glance back.

Today, he heard his daughter.

She had always been there to drown out the other noises, real or not. She'd shout proudly about her prowess, laugh out loud with her head thrown back even if her best friend was fast asleep beside her, and snore louder than he'd ever heard before. But this—this. This was horrible; nothing he could be proud of. Quiet just enough for him to hear it. This was a recreation of something he had only witnessed twice. Once when she failed to set up her own makeshift tent and the stakes fell on top of her, putting a bump on her head that lasted a week. And once (the one that was his fault, he reminds himself. All his fault. None of it ever would have happened without him.) when she was bundled up in his arms as guards searched the encampment, lining each child up as though they were headed off to class.

She was crying.

It was shocking how easily something as vast as a bottomless pit could exist in something as small as a body. And yet such a void had settled into his chest, making him into a home. His insides fell into it, heart first as always. His lungs surely came next, as his throat closed up under the pressure. He was supposed to comfort her, not cry with her. Even though only one was possible anymore.

He wanted to call out her name, in case it was her ghost. Wanted to let her know that it would be okay, that he would join her soon. He wouldn't. They were not destined for the same fate. All that came out was a strangled and completely incoherent whisper. His voice was weak. He only got water when he got meals.

Juanaflippa did not speak. Her presence did not leave, either. Charlie could not focus with her sniffles and sobs filling the room. They had no echo, he noticed, delirious yet functioning enough. What 'enough' was, he didn't know. It was enough. It had to be, he couldn't let it not be.

Though it didn't really matter what happened, did it? He'd die either way, and eventually those kids would too. His main goal was to shush the cries. Fast or slow, painful or peaceful, he wanted it to be silent when he went. To do so, he guessed he'd have to help Flippa's friends. He'd try his best. Even if that didn't always work out.

He was rocking back and forth when Quackity arrived again. Weight shifting on then off his feet and back hitting the wall, a bump stabbing his shoulder blade in precisely the same spot each and every time. He didn't do so much as glance his way as the tray clinked against the ground.

"Eat first," Quackity said. "But quickly."

Charlie stopped. The door did not close. It was time.

He located the key first. It had simply been hid underneath a slice of moldy bread. He threw it away from himself and shoveled everything else down as if he had not eaten in months. There truly was nothing special about his meal, he was barely empty after all. It was no oasis. This was no famine. All things considered, he had been fed well. Now it was time to put the energy gained from it to good use.

He stood up, wincing at the way his knees resisted it after being folded for such a long time, and jammed the key into the lock he'd been staring at for the past thousand or so heartbeats. It took some fiddling with it for it to cooperate and allow him to swing open the gate before him. The ease of it was almost laughable. To think, that these bars were so thin. If he had thrown himself at them enough he's sure they'd fall down eventually.

Charlie took a breath in before running out. There was no one directly outside, it was an empty hallway with more rusting doors. He was tempted to find a way to unlock those, too, to see what any other isolated prisoners would do. If only he had the time.

Cucurucho had far too much trust in his halfhearted security system. There was a singular guard outside the next doorway. They heard Charlie's footsteps and turned immediately to rush in. Charlie grinned at them, allowing them to attempt the first blow. They readied their blade (which, really, should have been ready in advance) and adjusted their grip on it repeatedly, seemingly unsure on how exactly they wanted to hold it. "Please, return to your cell."

Charlie assumed for a long time that the polite guards were just like that around children. Patient and well-mannered. But it never did go away. All servants were trained to behave this way. There was no person beneath them. Not even prisoners. The only thing that decided the ranking system was a fight. This one hoped to avoid that entirely. Poor thing.

Well, they had gotten their chance. Charlie had no time to waste on them. The fox pounced. He surged forward, wrapping both hands around the base of the blade and sharply kicking the guard's leg to trip them. The surprise was enough for their grip to loosen.

They tried to drag him down with them, he'll give them that. They all tried. But the king's hunters did not ever fail twice.

He ran past who he could, the following shouting quiet as the young girl's sobbing. Both were lost behind the ringing and thumping in his ears. Thumping. Pounding. Something was trying to escape. He could already feel the struggle approaching. He wondered where his spirit would fight his body first.

Arrows and blades did make it into his skin. He was not immortal, and no mortal was capable of surviving such a crowd without so much as a scratch. He was, however, an animal. A creature of instinct. An instinct that had been honed just for occasions such as this. It did not tell him to save himself, nor necessarily to run. It told him to search, there was something he was looking for, something everyone here wanted. His mind was trained to be determined to find and grab whatever it was that everyone wanted first.

He could draw a map of the entire castle. He had been told to forget half of it after losing access to it. He never did. He knew he'd be back one day. Under these circumstances? Most certainly not. There was no predicting this. That did not mean he was not able to use this; take advantage of the moment. Be selfish during his last day.

The fox was sick of rabbits. They tasted of nothing. It wanted something new. Something worth it, something satisfying. And so it climbed the mountain, up, up, up, as high as it could go.

He reached his destination. Two large double doors. The guards on either side sprung into action, and he did not hesitate to plunge his blade into the stomach of the first to reach him. His arm suffered a blow for his negligence toward the other. He retaliated by slashing in the general direction of their face. Both staggered back. The king would kill them for this, for backing down, if only for a moment. They had given him all he could ever ask for: an entrance.

The water used to flow down this path. It used to lure in oh so many prey. But now the fox was truly hunting. It was aiming for the skies. Those dark skies, covered in gray.

Charlie ran through and grabbed at the first thing to his left. He had taken note of it when he last visited the location. A bookshelf, one empty enough that he knew he could knock it down. The action was nothing new to him. Nor was the loud thump that followed, out of sync with his heart. The doors were blocked. They'd soon reroute and use the other sets. He was to make this quick.

The rabbit did not like the color gray. The world did not deserve it. And so, once the fox reached the peak, it would not take a moment to breathe in the fresh air. It would not relish in it's accomplishment, it would not linger on the successful journey.

The clouds that always loomed over the world were a strange thing to Charlie. They blocked out the sun. Rain was labeled as a blessing, despite bringing about floods. Clouds did not show emotions, not like the twinkling stars or setting sun. Though sometimes they'd line up in such a way with his sight that they would appear to be a face. He had not seen them today, but he knew that the clouds were fearful. For the fox had one goal, and one goal alone. The world deemed it impossible and him delusional, but Charlie knew that the fox was capable. It would fucking eradicate the clouds.