The Prince and the Plumber: A Collection

Roses and Letters

The flames from the fireplace flickered across his face; he felt the warmth cover him, from head to toe. Outside the window, the moon sent bright beams across the yard. He watched the illuminated path visible from the window, hoping, that at any moment, his brother would appear, tired, dirty, but with a smile on his face, and a happy jump in his step.

It was a hopeless wish, however. Mario was miles away, most likely sitting down in that fine dining hall, cheerfully chatting with one of the spoiled brats Bowser called a child, and trying his best to pretend that a treaty would be a good idea.

"Oh Mario..." He murmured.

On lonely nights like these, Luigi truly wished his brother wasn't so close to the princess. That his brother didn't have the insatiable urge to help everyone he saw. Then they wouldn't have been caught in this mess- playing ambassador to a timid princess.

Luigi sighed and stood up, missing the warmth from the fireplace as he drew across the floor towards the stairs.

Everyone had their responsibilities, he thought to himself, and he supposed he might as well start his.

---

He wouldn't say that he and Peasley were close- not like the princess and Mario. Luigi would be inclined to admit that he had a crush on the prince- who didn't? He was charming, handsome, kind, noble, and even-

Luigi paused and shook himself, a grin briefly touching his lips. Save the smooth talk for the letter, he reminded.

He took the stack of formal stationary from the top left drawer of the desk, and then set about getting the quill and ink in order- cut a new nib, uncork the ink bottle, check for consistency- Luigi could remember Toadsworth taking him through these steps the day he received this duty. It had made him embarrassingly nervous at the time. He had spilled ink over the stack of stationary, and nearly cut the feather in two.

Luigi consulted the formal address guide before writing the letterhead. He supposed they were close enough to use the informal greeting, if Peasley's return letters were anything to go by, but headdressed the letter in the formal tone and then sat back, chewing the end of the quill as he thought of what to write.

Peasley's last letter was tacked to his corkboard above the bed; Luigi stood and retrieved it. He ran a finger over the wax seal as he opened the envelope- green, with a stamp of a grinning face. The ink was green as well, a dark green that rivaled black in its intensity. Luigi was forced to use the pink wax and the official Mushroom Kingdom stamp, but used the dark green ink to write, as Peasley had sent it as a gift several letters ago.

Luigi ran a thumb down the side of the thick paper as he reread the missive, trying to distinguish the tone and topic the reply should have.

Dearest Luigi,

I am pleased to hear about the success with your garden. I find myself impressed that you managed to create the bush simply from the clippings; the golden rose is considered a symbol of the BeanBean Kingdom, as the roses could only be grown within the wall of BeanBean Castle, until now, I suppose.

Please, do not fret. You have my full permission to grow the bush. I would like to see it in person, if that would be possible, at your discretion?

You mentioned your worries over the recent treaty discussions between the Darklands and the Mushroom Kingdom in your last letter. I understand, and share your hesitation. Bowser has not shown any desire for peace in recent years; exactly the opposite, in fact.

I believe that Princess Peach is trying to engage Bowser and the Koopalings by showing them acceptance; I do not believe it will succeed. I do not believe such a beast, who seems to only want to harm everyone they come into contact to, can ever accept peace; but my Mother seems to favor Princess Peach's tactics and I do not have any right to go against her wishes on this. I implore you to act with caution in the following months. I am afraid that Bowser will attempt to take advantage of your princess and brother.

As long as I am writing of depressing topics, I suppose I should address the political drama of your last letter...

From there, Peasley's letter devolved into several paragraphs concerning trade of Chuckhola Cola and agricultural goods, as well as some information regarding refugees and citizenship. Luigi had copied the trade information onto a separate paper and given it to Toadsworth a week ago.

As he scanned through the last few paragraphs, his eyes caught on the remainder of the personal parts of the letter.

...and Mother has been pestering me over finding a queen.

"Every king, Peasley," She cries," Needs a proper queen! A castle cannot function without one!"

I suppose I cannot dispute her. Ever since she has fallen ill, the castle has seemed to lose life. Even my roses seem lackluster.

I suppose I am lucky; if I had been born the sole heir in any other kingdom, I would have been married off to some other nobility as a political match. As a matter of fact, many other kingdoms do not allow heirs to take the throne until after they have found a spouse; your Princess Peach, for example. The Mushroom Kingdom will not allow her to be named queen until she marries a suitable prince or princess.

The BeanBean Kingdom does not have such regulations. Every Beanian royalty has married for love. My people cannot reside with a partner they despise; it will send us to death. Because of this, my queen could be a pauper, a foreigner, or even of another species if they were my true love. I could even marry a koopa, as laughable of an idea that is.

Mother knows this as well as I do. Why does she insist on pressuring me? Who does she think I love truly?

I do not know. Perhaps I will ask her tonight, though I doubt a straightforward response. I ask you for a swift reply; your letters often brighten my day, I am not ashamed to admit. Please include in your reply a date I could visit, if you choose to allow me.

I anticipate your reply.

Peasley

Luigi stared down at the letter, rereading the paragraphs. He was keenly aware of the heat on his face, and was slightly embarrassed; he had blushed the first time reading the missive as well. He had an idea for his reply now, and as he walked back to his desk, he placed the letter so he could read the last two paragraphs again.

Thursday, he mused, dipping the quill into the ink. He would be free Thursday. Perhaps Peasley would be as well.

Luigi began to write, and ignored the excited tremble in his hand.