Shooting Star 🌟 Wilbur Soot x Oc 🌟

11

"I had a dream, I was seven. Climbin' my way in a tree, I saw a piece of heaven, waitin' impatient for me" -- AURORA

He wakes up to nightmares for the fifth night in a row. He's started using makeup to hide the bags under his eyes. He knows his excuses aren't great and Niki will say something soon but for now she lets him borrow the concealer without too many inquiries as to why.

He isn't awake for much longer before there's a knock at the door. "Your majesty, the troops have returned. And they come with a negotiator.

Out of bed. Get dressed. Make yourself presentable. Don't show how much you want to curl up in a ball out of sight of the world. Down the hall. Into your study. Greet your brother and captains. Sit down. Prepare your documents and notebooks. Respond positively to greetings and questions. Wave them—

"Wilbur," A gentle hand on his shoulder snaps him out of his head. "Do we wait until tomorrow for this?" Techno asks softly, barely audible to the rest of the room.

Wilbur stares at the papers on his desk, numbers swirling together for a moment before he blinks a couple times and finally shakes his head. "No, I can do this,"

His brother remains neutral in expression but Wilbur can feel his disapproval a mile away. "You remind me of dad when you do this," He grumbles before straightening up. "Bring them in," He declares louder.

It's Helios and Selene that come through the doors. Helios is walking with a bit of a limp and both of them are nearly glowing as their fire works to keep injuries at bay until they can get them healed properly.

Wilbur nods at them as they stand at attention. "At ease soldiers," The twins relax slightly. "Report,"

"We return victorious as the runners sent word a few days ago," Selene begins. "The enemy was driven to retreat and we came through with forty casualties of our 130 troops. Six of which died during transportation home,"

"Of those forty," Helios continues. "There is one doctor injury,"

"Who is it?"

"Erin, your majesty, the parrot hybrid,"

Wilbur winces internally. He hopes Tommy will be there for Makayla. "Continue,"

"We can get you a complete list of the fallen by tomorrow evening,"

"I won't expect it for two days, make sure you two get some rest and don't overwork yourselves, you two are dismissed,"

The twins leave the room. Wilbur writes some things down. Rubs his eyes tiredly and tries not to think about how he would have to visit families again to inform them of what had happened.

"Alright," He says, looking back up. "Negotiations will be in the throne room for the time being," The group of them stands, making their way down to the throne room. Wilbur is silent amidst everyone else's quiet murmurings of conversation.

His brother sticks next to his side the whole way, not saying anything but Wilbur can tell he's fully ready to call everything off if Wilbur shows even the slightest signs of drifting off.

Wilbur isn't quite sure what he expected, but now he's faced with the sudden reality of having to sit in his fathers throne. He's done it before while he's been holding this position of acting king but right now? It seems more like a slap in the face of how alone he is right now. She was just here hours ago, now it seems colder and emptier.

He adjusts the circlet amongst his curls before taking a seat, trying to ease the tension out of his muscles with a few deep breaths. He nods, "Bring the negotiator in,"