Old Kings' Funeral

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Remus sorted out his husbands' collar, glancing at the sad yet stoic face of Deceit. "There was nothing you could've done," He whispered. "Philip was already an hour dead when we arrived."

"But, if we'd gotten there sooner-" Deceit began.

"Deceit, he was an old, old codfish. He wouldn't have survived a magical revival, his heart wouldn't have taken it." Remus assured firmly. He kissed his husband on the cheek. "Philip would want us to be here for his son, right? Don't go moping about on him."

Deceit sighed, bowing his head but nodding. He understood that he couldn't have done anything. His revival magic only worked within an hour of death and Philip had been near a natural death anyway. "It just shouldn't have happened like that..." He murmured.

"I agree. Ready to go?"

The King nodded, allowing his husband to pull him along, out of the dressing room. Both were wearing the Dark Realms' iconic funeral fashion of red and white. The red symbolised the body. The white represented the person they'd lost. Every suit was identical, neither had any fancy accents or symbols of power. Only Deceit could wear an accessory, which was his crown. The waistcoat was of a lighter red, while the undershirt was deep and dark. White trimmings bound the cuffs and collar, lining the edges of the waistcoat. The trousers they wore were the same deep red as their undershirt and Virgil glanced up, in an identical suit. He smiled softly at his brother and friend, straightening his posture as he took his place by Deceit's' right.

They were in the Dark Realm castle and every single citizen wore the exact same, although only the royal family and their imps would travel to their neighbouring Realm. The trio passed guards, all in the exact same dress and the three Heathers, reunited once again, appeared in the sky. They weren't wearing their usual blazers and skirts, instead in a modest dress of red, white stitching along the hem of the skirt. They bowed steeply with no comment. There was to be no discussion unless welcomed to speak by the King. Gently at first, they flew around the royalty, spinning faster and faster before stopping in King Romans' throne room.

Everyone there only wore black and Remus couldn't stop the unsure frown. He glanced to Virgil, who wore a similar expression. Logan stood behind Romans' throne, wearing the normal advisory robes, but dyed black.

The new Royal Advisor frowned. "What are you wearing?" He asked.

Virgil tilted his head. "What are you wearing?"

"It is traditional to dress in full black," Logan replied.

"Well, it's traditional to all dress the exact same in red and white." Answered Virgil.

Roman sighed, glancing up and his eyes met Virgils'. He was too heartbroken to listen to friendly bickering. Virgil bowed his head. "It doesn't matter what they wear, Logan, as long as it shows their respect. It will be a good way to," The King paused, swallowing as he forced his voice to remain level, "It'll be a good way to show the strength of our alliance. Father would've wanted it..."

Logan placed his hand on Romans' shoulder and Remus noticed the advisor's' husband and children near the back. Patton also wore black, but his clothes didn't look nearly as impressive as the King, the advisor and the guards. Amai was in a brand new dress, the sleeve for her robot arm cut off and Fletcher had a basic, almost scruffy black suit.

Roman stood, crossing to Virgil and reaching up to his tiptoes just to kiss the pothers' cheek. "I'm glad you're here..." He murmured sadly.

Virgil kissed him softly on the nose, the way Deceit often kissed Remus. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." He whispered back sympathetically.

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