The Royal Thief

Tomorrow.

It turns out foxes can be nurses, and quite wonderful ones at that.

He was careful, but not too careful, and always told Tommy if he thought there was something very wrong with his foot.

Which was, thankfully, rare, the only thing really bad about his foot was the fact that it was almost the same colour as the purple flowers his mother had in her garden.

She said the flower was called a cosmos, and that it was one of her favourites, which was pretty obvious, as they covered most of the grass in their old backyard, there was hardly any green left when she was done planting them all.

That was years ago now, Tommy was sure they'd be dead, their beautiful purple colour replaced with ugly brown and black.

Sometimes, only sometimes, he wonders if they put a purple cosmos by her grave, she would've loved that.

Tommy didn't go to her funeral, he had ran away from the house right as he got the letter of the royal guards sending their condolences.

He deeply regrets not waking up early to see them off, maybe if be did he would feel better.

It's too late now though, the flowers are dead, and so are his parents.

The nurse, he said his name was Fundy, had finished checking out and wrapping Tommy's foot, and was now calling for Eret, why?

Tommy didn't know.

Eret walked into the room soon after Fundy left, his face holding an expression Tommy couldn't quite figure out.

Concern? Sadness? Anger?

Sympathy?

Possibly.

The medical bed dipped beside him, signalling that the king had sat down.

They basked in the awkward silence for a while, Tommy fidgeting with his fingers and glancing at his foot every so often.

.

.

.

.

It was Eret who broke the silence, clearing their throat and opening their mouth to say whatever they planned on saying.

"I sent Phil a letter regarding where you were,"

Tommy stopped moving, his head already starting to ache.

"You did what?"

He tried his hardest to raise his voice and be threatening, but the King only brushed it off, repeating his sentence.

"I sent Phil a letter regarding where you were."

"Why? I told you not to! I don't want to go back there, why do you think I left?"

"You have to go home sooner or later, Tommy."

"Sending me there is not sending me home! How many times do I have to tell you people that my home was with my parents, and they're dead! How could such a stupid person be king? How'd you get here? Is this your home or was it forced upon you?"

Eret let Tommy blow off some steam, staying silent and watching him patiently.

"This wasn't forced upon me, I gladly became king when asked."

"Well, are you proud? A king's life is difficult and scary, you kill innocent people when charging into war!"

They keep quiet.

"Let me ask you this, almighty King Eret, do you ever regret that day? That day where you led Technoblade to my parents just because you were too selfish to get stabbed once yourself? Mother was already injured, and father nearly dead. Are you proud? Answer me honestly,"

Eret stared at him in shock.

"How do you know all this?"

"I'm not stupid Eret, stop stalling. You know what you did."

"I know what I did but I don't know how you know what I did!"

Tommy looked at the wall in front of him.

"It said that it was an accident in the letter, that you didn't mean to lead the one guy who was on a murderous rampage towards my parents. But I'm not stupid, I may be young, but that doesn't mean I can't be smart and know things. I played connect-the-dots all the time when I was younger, I've had enough practice to know that you're nothing but a liar who only says bullshit to protect themselves,"

Eret stood and, without another word, walked swiftly out the door, slamming it shut behind her, leaving Tommy alone with his thoughts.

He sat alone for what felt like hours, but in reality was probably about ten minutes.

Fundy came back in, his body language showing that he was slightly awkward and uncomfortable.

''I brought you some crutches,''

He muttered as he handed Tommy two things that seemed to be made out of wood, and looked slightly like the cane Phil once gave him.

''Thanks,''

Fundy nodded, walking backwards so that Tommy could attempt to stand.

He pushed himself off of the bed, tucking one part of the crutch in his armpits, lifting his one foot and taking an experimental step.

The crutches worked surprisingly well, working like two more legs.

''I'm glad they work, King Eret told me to lead to one of the guest chambers when you were done, so let's go,''

Tommy nodded, walked behind Fundy as he led him to his temporary room.

Once they got there, he sat down on the bed, leaning the crutches against the footboard.

''Oh, by the way,''

Fundy started.

''King Phil from the Craft kingdom is coming tomorrow,''

Tommy froze, his eyes widening as he looked at the fox hybrid.

''King Eret told me to tell you, he was going to tell you himself, but.. Yeah,''

He muttered the last part of the sentence before turning around and leaving the room, shutting the door softly and quietly behind him.

Tommy could only think of one thing.

Phil's coming tomorrow.

He's getting sent back.

Running never works.

He just gets sent back.

Why was he doing all this?

What's the matter with him?

Phil's coming tomorrow.

He's coming, tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

(950 words)

(I got a little lazy towards the end, but I wasn't sure how to phrase stuff.  I hope you enjoyed anyways though!  Take care of yourselves, okay?  You're worth it, no matter who you like or who you are.  Have a good day you goblins, bye!)