notus

Chapter 3: secret garden / for every action, a reaction

Chapter 3: secret garden / for every action, a reaction

Whispers spread through The End. The creatures of the kingdom murmur. They scurry with news, breeding rumours and tales.

[A guest!] They mutter. [The Prince had brought back a guest!]

[I hear the guest tried to kill The Dragon,] they whisper. [And that they got close, too.]

[I hear the guest has twisted, deformed horns,] others cry. [And eyes that paralyze you on sight!]

[An outsider!] They wail. [A monster!]

"I didn't mean to piss them off-"

"Tubbo, I gave you one piece of advice." Ranboo hides his face in his hands. "And it was to not look at them in the eyes!"

The bed beneath them shifts as Tubbo does. The roaring fireplace quiets to a gentle growl. Out beyond the balcony, the Void sings.

Tubbo crosses his arms. "Well, I-" he huffs. "Shut up, Ranboo. I tried my best."

"Your best?" Ranboo peeks through his fingers. "Wow..."

Tubbo throws a pillow at him. "Hey!" He pouts. "In my defence, I thought it was you."

Ranboo, drawn out of his brief surprise of having a pillow thrown at him, bursts into laughter. "I am nowhere near as tall as my council." He throws the pillow back, with a grin. "You've got no defence."

Tubbo throws his arms up. "Fine!" He flops onto his back. "Catch me and throw me into the dungeons. I'll rot the rest of my days there and be horribly cranky all the time."

Ranboo snickers. He idly takes a wing to his lap, running his fingers down the feathers. "I wouldn't throw you in there." He stops, and thinks. "I'm not even sure we have a dungeon."

"No?" Tubbo glances up at him. "What'd you do with criminals then?"

"Dunno." The Prince shrugs. "But I do have Dragon."

Tubbo grimaces. "Not liking what you're implying, big man." He sits up, leaning on his elbows. His eyes widen and shine. "Oh! Are you preening?"

Ranboo blinks, reeling back. "What?"

"Preening." Tubbo gestures at the wing. "Y'know, the thing where you make your feathers all clean and shit."

The Prince glances down, to the wing. His fingers still, and he hums to himself. "I guess?" He glances, back up to the Goat Kid. "I didn't know you called it that though."

"Ooh, can I help?" Tubbo claps his bandaged hands. His voice pitches in excitement. "I used to help Phil with his all the time, back home. Please? I promise I won't mess it up."

Tubbo had him at 'help', but Ranboo frowns as his attention gets caught elsewhere. "Phil's?" he echoes. "He has...these, too?"

"What, wings?" Tubbo tilts his head. "Yeah. He's always had them." He frowns, then. "He used to be able to fly with them, but now he's to hide them a lot more. Town's people think it's cursed, or some other bullshit."

"What?" Ranboo's eyebrows furrow. "That's...stupid."

He turns on the bed, giving his wings to the Goat Kid - he, who takes it with gentle hands and a gleeful giggle.

"I mean," continues Ranboo. "What makes it bad? They can fly? They need to spend a bit of their time cleaning more than usual? What?"

"I know!" Tubbo agrees, his voice enthused from behind him.