Crown and claw

Royal Encounter

In the tranquil embrace of dusk, Tommy, his short blonde hair tousled by the evening breeze, sat on his balcony overlooking the kingdom. With piercing blue eyes, he watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the sky. His pale skin glowed softly in the fading light, and he wore the royal colors of white and blue, a testament to his lineage. Lost in the moment, he leaned against the railing, absorbed in the beauty of the sunset and the quiet serenity of the evening.

The tranquility surrounding Tommy felt almost suffocating. Adventure coursed through his veins, yet he found himself trapped in the mundanity of royal obligations. Endless meetings and protocols confined him, stifling his yearning for exploration. Every fiber of his being longed to roam the vast expanse of his kingdom, to embody the gallant princes of folklore. Alas, such escapades belonged to others, a fortunate reality denied to him.

As Tommy turned away from the expansive view, his mind churned with questions. With a thoughtful furrow of his brow, he pondered the paradox of dragons. If these mythical creatures were as fearsome as legend claimed, why were they so prominent in the kingdom's tapestries and lore? In a land where the crow reigned as the symbol of the realm, the prevalence of dragons sparked curiosity within him. With a wistful sigh, he couldn't help but wonder about the untold stories behind these majestic beasts and their presence in the kingdom's history.

The heavy wooden door to his room creaked open, and Tommy's gaze shifted towards the entrance, where a trusted servant stood, his elder brothers most trusted. "Your Majesty..." the servant began, bowing respectfully as Tommy approached.

"Ranboo, we've been over this," Tommy interjected with a gentle smile, closing the distance between them. "It's just Tommy, and if you must, then Prince Tommy." He offered a reassuring nod as Ranboo straightened up, a flicker of warmth passing between them in the familiar exchange.

As Tommy approached Ranboo, he couldn't help but notice the striking contrast of their appearance. Ranboo, unlike any human, bore a unique feature-a division down the center of their body. On the right side, their skin gleamed as white as freshly fallen snow, while the left side was as dark as the depths of night. A green eye peered out from the darkness on the left, while a fiery red eye met Tommy's gaze from the right.

Despite their unusual appearance, Tommy had grown accustomed to Ranboo's presence and the trust they shared. He observed Ranboo's sharp claws, recently filed down to avoid unintentional harm, a testament to their commitment to their duties and the safety of those around them. With a sense of familiarity and respect, Tommy extended a hand in greeting, acknowledging the bond that transcended appearances.

"Now, what do you need, Ran?" Tommy greeted with a smile, accustomed to the routine interruptions of royal life.

"Well, your brother wishes to speak with you," Ranboo replied, their tone carrying a hint of formality.

Tommy let out an audible groan. "Of course he does..." he muttered under his breath, resigned to yet another round of royal discussions and obligations.

As Tommy traversed the long, cold halls of the castle, his footsteps echoed softly against the stone walls, each step a rhythmic reminder of the weight of his duties. The flickering torches lining the corridor cast dancing shadows, adding an eerie ambiance to the otherwise solemn atmosphere. The air hung heavy with the scent of age-old tapestries and polished wood, carrying with it the whispers of centuries past.

His breath formed wisps of vapor in the chill air as he made his way forward, his path illuminated by the dim glow of sconces lining the passage. The intricate designs of the castle's architecture, carved with precision and care, served as a testament to the legacy of his lineage.

With each turn and twist of the labyrinthine corridors, Tommy pressed on, his determination unwavering despite the icy tendrils of doubt that occasionally crept into his mind. As he approached his brother's office, the anticipation of their impending conversation hung in the air like a heavy shroud, casting a solemn veil over his thoughts. Yet, with a steely resolve, he pushed open the door, ready to face whatever challenges awaited him within.

As Tommy stepped into the dimly lit room, the air heavy with the scent of age-old battles and the metallic tang of blood, his eyes scanned the shelves adorned with trophies of war. Blades of all shapes and sizes gleamed in the subdued light, each one a testament to the victories of the past. At the center of the room, seated in a grand chair, was his brother, Technoblade.

Technoblade's striking appearance immediately drew Tommy's attention. With unusual red eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness, his pinkish skin stood out in stark contrast to the shadows that enveloped the room. Long strands of pink hair were tied up in a bun at the crown of his head, secured in place by a menacing knife, a symbol of his prowess in battle.

As Tommy approached, he couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence mixed with apprehension in his brother's presence. Technoblade's reputation as a formidable warrior preceded him, and the weight of their impending conversation hung heavily in the air. With a respectful nod, Tommy prepared himself for whatever discourse awaited him in the company of his formidable sibling.

"Theseus," Technoblade grunted, his red eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned back in his chair, a sense of authority emanating from his presence.

"Technoblade," Tommy replied, his tone respectful yet tinged with a hint of defiance, as he took a seat on the opposite side of the table. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, each word weighed with the gravity of their relationship and the responsibilities that bound them together as brothers and rulers of their kingdom.

Technoblade's cold gaze bore into Tommy as he addressed him by the nickname he despised. "It is to my understanding that you and father are not on the best of terms at the moment, Theseus?" he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of disdain.

Tommy's jaw tightened slightly at the use of the name, but he maintained his composure. "You could say that, I suppose, Blood God," he replied evenly, watching the subtle twitch in Technoblade's expression at the mention of his warrior moniker. The tension in the room thickened as their familial dynamics simmered beneath the surface, each word a delicate dance between loyalty and resentment.