i'd marry her, i told her | wilbur soot - royalty!au

10 and 11 (II)

"Why do I always have to be the princess?" Tommy whines as Wilbur picks out a decent-sized stick for Sally to use as a sword. Because apparently, he 'has a good eye for sticks.' Yeah, sure, Sally thinks. Control freak.

"Because you're pretty and blonde," Sally ruffles his hair, at which he scrunches up his face in annoyance. "And Wil's the dragon 'cause he's a giant," she continues, referring to the older prince's height.

"Then why're you the Knight?" Tommy says, still disgruntled.

"So she can save you from the tower, idiot," Wilbur inputs, walking over to them, a worthy stick in hand. "D'you not want to be saved?"

"I can save myself," Tommy tilts his chin upwards haughtily.

"Whatever, you can be the dragon next time," Wilbur waves him off. "I think this is good," he hands the two-foot branch to Sally.

"Perfect," she grins. "Okay, positions!"

With a bit of grumbling from Tommy, the three friends take their places, Wilbur defensive in front of Tommy and Sally opposite them. The three go through the motions of Tommy unenthusiastically calling for help and shouting Sally encouragement as she fights Wilbur with focus and concentration.

When they've tired themselves out and played a few more rounds with Tommy as the dragon and Sally as the princess, they splay out on the grass next to each other.

Sally sees a little brown-haired boy standing in the entrance to the garden. "Hello."

The boy moves forward hesitantly. "Hi," he says in a timid voice.

"What's your name?" Tommy says, standing up straight to seem bigger than the boy.

"Tubbo," he replies, seemingly intimidated.

"Nice to meet you, Tubbo," Sally walks over to the boy and shakes his hand before pulling him over to where the boys were.

"Calm down, Sal, you're scaring the poor kid," Wilbur snickers.

"I am not," Sally rolls her eyes.

"How old are you?" Tommy asks nosily.

"Eight," Tubbo answers shortly.

Seemingly pleased, Tommy asks, "Wanna be friends with us?"

"Um," Tubbo looks back nervously. "I don't know if I should-"

"Great!" Tommy grabs the poor boy's arm and yanks him down to sit with them, and the four slip into easy conversation. As it turns out, Tubbo was the Royal baker's son, a man that Sally's father was well acquainted with. The princes and Sally wouldn't see him too often, though, since he'd usually be helping out in the kitchen, but whenever he did have free time, they'd welcome him with open arms and include him in whatever game they'd be playing.

Sometimes, though, they just took it slow, lazing around and chatting the day away, just like that afternoon.

"Bee!" Tommy screams shrilly, falling back on his elbows to avoid it.

"Where? Where?" Tubbo says, looking around excitedly. "Oh, I just love bees!"

"Get- away from me, stupid bug!" Tommy continues swatting around himself as Wilbur and Sally laugh at him. "Do I look like a flower to you? Idiot," he mutters, finally calming down as the bee flies away, resulting in a pouting Tubbo.

"You scared it off," he says sadly with a sniffle.

"What, should I have let it pollinate me?!" Tommy exclaims, incredulous.

"No." Sniffle. "I just really like bees."

"It's alright, Tubbo, there's plenty of bees in the garden," Sally tells him in an attempt to cheer him up. "I find they prefer daisies, you should go look there."

"Okay," Tubbo scrambles up onto his feet, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "C'mon, Tommy," he says to his golden-haired companion, waiting for him with an excited smile.

Tommy grumbles a bit but gets up eventually, shuffling behind an eager Tubbo as they walk to the daisy bed. As much as Tommy may pretend otherwise, he cares about Tubbo and Sally doubts he'd ever say no to him.

The remaining two continue lazing under the blossom tree. It's pink with flowers now, just as Sally's father had promised, and she tries to catch one as it falls every now and then, without much luck.

"Hey, Wil," she cocks her head up to look at him.

"Yeah, Sal?" he answers lazily, eyes almost closed.

"Can you catch a blossom?"

"'Course I can," he replies, still slack on the grass.

"I'd like to see you try."

"Is that a challenge?" he smirks, finally getting up.

"It's harder than it looks," she tells him, rolling her eyes at his competitiveness.

"I'm sure I can do it," he says, looking up at the branches of the tree. He spots an opening, a small blur of pink fluttering down, so he reaches his hand out and-

It flutters right past.

Brows furrowing, he tries again with another falling flower, but it has the same outcome. Wilbur, however, is determined and tries a variety of different methods, from leaping up to catch one in midair to cupping both his hands under the branches and praying one would fall into them.

"Why are you so hell-bent on getting a flower?" Sally laughs, but it's at that moment that Wilbur finally manages to close his fingers around the soft petals of one, and he quickly brings it to his chest to prevent it flying away. "Did you actually get one?"

"Told you I could do it," he opens his palm, plucks the flower out and holds it up to Sally. "For you, m'lady," he says, bending down slightly as he'd seen noblemen do before.

With a giggle and glowing cheeks, Sally takes the flower from him and inspects it.

She places the flower in her orange hair, behind her ear. "Thanks, Wil."