Chapter Text

THE PALACE COURTIERS ARE FLUTTERING ABOUT. Much like worker ants preparing their mess of a hive, the courtiers work in an organized ruckus. They are preparing an entire palace, after all, one that had been just recently abandoned. Now various individuals are flooding through the entrances trying to fit in narrow, dusty, and rusted passageways. Maids, swordsmen, culinary artists, courtiers and the like are preparing for something seemingly grand.

“What do you think we’re rushing for?”

“The third prince, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“There’s a third prince?”

The courtiers finish their duties, executing what is expected of them in perfection. Soon enough they line up along the entrance, postures fixed and eyes staring ahead. Yet their minds wander in thought of the reason for their sudden orders. What had happened? 

They stand in wait along the entrance, waiting before the grand doors of this old palace that had just been refurbished all but a minute ago. It was said to the servants that it had been the direct orders of the Imperial Prince, though no one knew for certain and that had them buzzing in intrigue. 

Servants line the hall in attention. Being assigned something this grand, this was surely a privilege for them all to witness the reason. The third prince, they said. The third prince clearly must be loved as to have an entire palace prepared for him. Though it was no secret. No royal is unwanted in this country, after all.

It might seem like they could not possibly look any more proper to face and greet royalty, yet when the grand doors recently oiled by the hinges click and creak as it opens wide they achieve an even more flawless execution of posture.

Almost ridiculously flawless, even.

As the door opens, however, there are no escorts. There is no grandeur, nor ceremony. There is no one who announces even the name of the new arrival.

And so intrigue overrides protocol as, one at a time, the servants turn their heads curiously towards the door. Normally such impudence would be greeted with a scolding, but they knew that maybe it would have been worth it.

So it was. 

Before them is the esteemed swordswoman, a Captain of the Imperial Army who might as well have served as the index finger of the Emperor himself. That much is a rumor, yet such a rumor is proven true by the fact that in her arms is a bundle of fabric that signifies her true station above any of them. She is assigned a task far more precious and important than any of them who gawk. 

Though despite her station she stands haggardly at the forefront of the palace, clothes rumpled, hair frazzled, tired and weary but clutching the bundle in her arms like a lifeline. 

“Captain Puffy,” One of them breaks away from the line and looks at her with a confused expression, one that grows to concern when Puffy’s eyes drag itself slowly to look at them. “Captain, I apologize for the impudence but… may I ask what we are here for?” 

The woman recognizes him. He’s the younger brother of a noble from the North who had come here to serve the Imperial family. Of course he would have been more brave in asking his questions, Puffy had once been a family friend of theirs, after all. 

“We are brought here upon the orders of the Emperor,” She watches as the faces of courtiers shift from shock, to awe, and finally, dread. The Emperor, they realize, not the prince– “to raise, protect, and care for the youngest Prince.”

The Captain looks down at the bundle.

“The Third Prince, Theseus.”

AND THESEUS HAD LOOKED UP AT HIS OLDER BROTHER. His jeweled blue eyes, sapphires, cold as the Blood Prince’s heart.

“You will never understand the love I have for my brother, Imperial Prince.” Theseus speaks his truth, with nothing but poison and hatred for the older brother whose warmth he once sought for. “I would rather die than attempt at his life.”

The eldest prince looks down at Theseus.

“How fortunate. You have sought to do both.”

Before the public’s eye—and that included an incapable and inconsolable William, their Imperial, ruthless, Blood Prince drew his sword. He raised it mockingly against Theseus’ cheek. “Greet mother for me. At the very least, she will be pleased to meet you.” He says to Theseus, yet no one but themselves are able to hear.

And he had withdrawn his sword for a moment. William was relieved—had his twin reconsidered this act, perhaps?

The hope kindled for a moment. Had his songs reached his brother? William’s pride swells in his chest, yet if only for the briefest moment–

The sword dropped to Theseus’ neck.

“Theseus,” A nameless woman with a maid’s headcap coos at him, the baby who is notably not supposed to be called Theseus and is instead Tommy. “What a precious boy,” she continues. “I really have no idea what to do with your brother.” The woman laments.

Tommy attempts to swat at the woman, but the act isn’t quick nor is it anything nearly as fatal. “Screw off!” He tries to say, but it  only resulted in regular garble. The sneer he attempted to make looked nothing intimidating, and merely adorable.

She smiles back at him, blissfully unaware of his attempts at her life or at her self-esteem.

“She would have loved you.” She says rather ominously.

Tommy thinks it’s dumb. Everyone loves him, obviously. He doesn’t have need for affirmation. 

But more importantly, he’s not supposed to be here.

Prior to waking up as a mere infant, Tommy was falling. From where? He has not the slightest clue. He remembers it vaguely, but he’s pretty sure he’s supposed to be dead right now. Tommy remembers losing consciousness (and in turn, possibly dying) in something cold, because the impact from the fall was apparently not enough to kill him in one go. He only needed to freeze a little before finally succumbing to the sweet, supposedly everlasting embrace of death.

He had really felt content in it.

It was nice, warm, and comfortable. 

If that was eternity, he would have loved it. And it should have loved him too.

But death had let go of him all of a sudden, and now here he is. He’d awoken from his supposed eternal sleep like this: a child.

A child with a cursed name—Theseus. Tommy doesn’t like that name. He doesn’t particularly remember how such a name slighted him so, but he does have such distaste for it. Not to mention, there’s a lot of tragedies aligned with people named Theseus. Not only was he a dick in his mythology, his name was also aligned with a very concerning tragedy.

For some reason people just loved to write tragedy after tragedy about men named Theseus. He knows all of two tragedies, the myth, and a book.

Theseus was also the name of a prince with a similar background as himself– not that it matters anyway. He was an insignificant fictitious prince. Theseus had been the name of the youngest prince in a novel Tommy once loved to read. 

It’s safe to say that Tommy knows very little about a Theseus who lived a long and happy life, he however intends to change that.

He doesn’t want to be like the other Theseus-es. Poor fucks.

“Theseus, darling, are you hungry?” His caretaker asks, breaking him out of his lament-filled stupor. 

Tommy frowns, lifting his arms and shaking it across instead of up and down. He can’t shake his head, annoyingly so. His neck muscles are still too young. “No!” He answers as an act of rebelling, but all it releases is a vague sound of multiple vowels and a pop of his lip.

This leads to his next lament.

Couldn’t he have woken up as a more mobile kid? Isn’t there a thing where toddlers don’t have any real sense of consciousness or sense of self?

Did he have to wake up as a fucking infant?

The woman frowns for some reason and then looks up at the grandfather clock that serves as his only companion most of the time.

He tries to look at it as well, before giving up. His neck barely works the way he wants it to. He tries to tilt it up and he ends up curling. It’s maddening. He’s a weakling. He’s admitting it to himself but not to anyone else. He’s a little squishy weakling, and he abhors it with a passion.

She looks back down at Tommy with a smile. “I’ll be calling the head maid, okay?” Is all she says before walking away and out the door.

Tommy stays, because where else would an immobile infant go? To the End? (He hopes. Maybe he’ll have a better time there than here).

The maid returns, but this time there is someone else with her. Puffy, he recognizes his ram-horned companion by those really cool looking eyes, slits lying horizontally. A goat’s eye or a ram’s maybe. She’s unique to a lot of the servants he’s seen around here for that reason alone. It’s not very atypical to Tommy though, since these features have been normalized since long ago. He finds it odd how he sees less of them around here than when he’d been in his original body– maybe it’s a world building thing.

Oddity in this society aside, he does like Puffy. She treats him properly, with the slightest belief that Tommy is at least a fraction smarter than a typical child his age.

Which is good because he’s sixteen.

“Hello there, Theseus!” Puffy greets him with a smile. “Have you been troubling the maid?”

Puffy is the Head Maid, but the way she holds herself and the way that the people act around her makes Tommy suspect that she’s actually more than that. Is it because she’s got horns and ram eyes? He’s yet to find out what, exactly, he does however  know that she’s got some form of power over the others that frequent around the place.

Tommy babbles, practicing his speech and hoping that one day he’d get it right—to no avail of course, because he’s an infant.

Despite the obvious lack in ability to do so, Tommy attempts to say Obviously.

She smiles. “Okay, can you do the thing you did when you were asked if you were hungry?”

Tommy shakes his hands left and right (embarrassingly not in sync).

“Are you bored?”

He pauses a little, feeling fatigued from all the shaking she was making him do, before now shaking his hands up and down. All the while babbling. Ugh, this game is so embarrassing, but at least she knows he’s not just some mindless baby. She talks to him like he could understand her, and he does! The other maids just hasn’t gotten the memo yet.

Puffy nods, before taking Tommy into her arms. “He isn’t hungry.” She explains, finger poking at his palm. Tommy scowls when his fingers curl in reflex around her finger, but Puffy seems none the wiser regarding his disdain. In fact, she seems to be amused by the act– both the palmar reflex and the scowl on his face. “He’s bored.”

Internally, Tommy feels himself sag in relief. She may be taking advantage of his cuteness, but at least she takes him seriously.

Finally, someone who gets him.

That was until he felt his stomach grumble. Tommy feels himself blush. Oh that’s cringe. That’s so cringe.

“Or he was lying.” Puffy teases.

Tommy abhors this infant body. He just wants his cool, totally muscular one back.

Life in the palace is infuriating easy as an infant. There’s not much that Tommy has to do other than babble and act cute in hopes that maybe they wouldn’t treat him like shit at the side of the road.

It’s been an uneventful few months since he’d been rudely woken up and shoved into this infant body. Now he is at least able to crawl. He sits up, and he exercises regularly. Crawling doesn’t take much to learn, but it did take a while to finally gain the muscles required for the act. Being an infant was such hard work, he doesn’t know why so many people hope to be one again.

Tommy sits on Puffy’s lap. She is pointing images to him and assigning them things.

He’d long since learned about that and would push each book he didn’t like off her hands until he finally got something of interest. Damn it, Puffy, he doesn’t need to relearn what a fucking pig is.

To Puffy’s credit, she’s patient enough to last until Tommy finally settled on a book that piqued his interest.

Politics.

He doesn’t know how Puffy managed to pick this up among the choices of bloody fucking baby books and alphabet textbooks, but he shouldn’t discredit her. She seems to trust his judgement and believes that he is smarter than he seems.

“Your lineage, Theseus.” She said when she’d settled with this book. “I think this would be of interest to you, do you agree?”

Fortunately for him, and especially fortunate for the tired Puffy, Tommy does agree. He pulls at the book rather than shoving it away, prompting Puffy to giggle. “Alright, Theseus, we’re reading this.” She says.

And so Puffy takes her time pointing out the political system, and she explains it so concisely, as if she doesn’t expect Tommy to understand what she was saying.

He does though, so he learns a lot.

So, their country of residence was the Empire of Ice (eerily familiar, Tommy had thought.) and Tommy is known to be the Second Prince. Puffy shows a picture of the emperor.

He’s an odd thing for an emperor. The portrait shows sapphire jewel eyes that glitter in the light in such a majestic manner—as if his eyes were actually made of the finest riches of the world. Something about the weird description is eerily familiar to something he’s read before, but he doesn’t dare think about it. “Philza is an odd emperor,” Puffy snorts fondly, as if what she’s saying could not at all be considered treason punishable by death. 

“He’s not here often. No one knows why, but he came back once before– we have to believe he’ll do it again. People still call him the emperor despite the active ruler being your brother, the Imperial Prince.”

Tommy listens as he observes the portrait. The man is youthful despite his age—apparently centuries old as it is, totally not an abnormal fact and definitely not something he should take note of—He’s got golden hair that reaches down his shoulders. His eyes are a glittering sapphire, as mentioned a while ago, and Tommy has no clue if it’s an artistic depiction or not. The crown is crooked on his head, as if it was placed there haphazardly, but the air of confidence and charisma screams royalty to Tommy.

He babbles as he slams on the photo.

“Yes, Theseus, that’s your father.” She laughs, guiding his small hands to the portrait.

He frowns. That’s not what he meant.

In reality, what Tommy was saying was “You bastard, leaving your kid here all alone without family to care for me.” He speaks. “A proper shithead.”

Puffy turns a few pages, and Tommy sees how it skips the portrait of a brunette woman with brown eyes, and another brunet with sparkling blue eyes–there it is again with those eyes. That has to be some sort of artistic way of painting or something. He doesn’t mind her skipping the pages, because if Puffy skipped it then he likely doesn’t need to know much about them.

She stops at another portrait, and it’s a man with pink hair cascading over his shoulder in a neatly done braid. Some locks of hair have escaped the braid, framing his face. He notices how even compared to Philza, his crown was fancier, and dare he say gaudy.

But what really catches Tommy’s attention are his ruby eyes. It has the same jewel effect as Phil’s and Tommy’s starting to think that these weren’t just stylistic decisions and more alike to reality than he thinks.

“That’s your brother, Theseus.” Puffy points. She moves to the name labelled underneath it, and Tommy, an adult in a child’s body who has long learned how common speak functions, had already read it. “No one really knows his true name, other than Philza himself.”

He drowns out everything Puffy is saying, as he realizes his imminent doom. The words. That can’t be a coincidence, can it? That name, that damned name.

“And the name labelled here isn’t his true name, rather his preferred title. We don’t know of its origins either, but well, it struck the fear of the Empire’s enemies–outside or within.” She laughs, as if Tommy wasn’t looking at the source of his eventual demise.

“His majesty, the Imperial Prince of the Antarctic Empire Technoblade! Your older brother.”

It is then when Tommy’s gut sinks. He stares at the picture.

The Prince of Song.

It was an unassuming title of a book that not many of Tommy’s peers had read before-- not that the lot of them were interested in that sort of genre. It was a novel centered on a character of noble heritage, and it wasn’t a very fond topic for many of his friends and kin. Monarchy and Empires weren’t favorable for many of the people Tommy was acquainted with, and even the political system in the novel was far-fetched and not like the ones he’s seen before.

But Tommy had picked it up.

There were a lot of things Tommy would like to say about it.

For all the odd descriptions of its form of extreme ‘Monarchy’, Tommy had found himself at the very least liking it. It had adequate writing (which is a lot to say for his standard of literature, because Tommy was raised on Greek mythos and his literary fanatic brother), the world-building unique and fantastical (with creatures of odd origins and magic that are beyond the regular old enchantments), and the story was acceptable. 

It was centered on a cruel and lone prince in an Empire of Ice (uncreatively titled the Antarctic Empire. He personally thinks it’s lame and would prefer the Empire of Ice title) and his estranged twin brother, who had gone missing from birth.

The estranged prince had gone to the palace undercover to dethrone the Imperial Prince, yet upon arrival he found himself becoming fond of his brother and instead settled on the decision that he should instead change him. The estranged prince had been met with many dilemmas of royal life. It was centered a lot on humanitarian ways and a lot on the grey morality that one has to have when handling politics concerning millions upon millions of subjects.

He didn’t think it odd how it only briefly mentions an Emperor, and how it seemed like the acting ruler of the Empire was the eldest prince instead. He also didn’t think it odd how the familial dynamic was also very much implied and mentioned repeatedly and incessantly.

So far in the book, the only important characters had been the twins—one raised in riches, and the other in rags. The Prince of Blood, Technoblade, and the Prince of Song, William– the prince who pretended to be of common folk, rising up in the ranks without the use of the blood that runs in his veins. The true hero of the story.

But they weren’t the only children of the Emperor (as absent as he may seem). The emperor had  three children. The twin princes, and a youngest, unloved prince. The canon fodder.

For the sake of plot progression however, whoever the author was had decided to just off the poor kid.

His only purpose in the plot was to drive the estranged prince who loved him into finally overthrowing the Imperial Prince who had ordered the lone prince’s death.

Tommy had some semblance of sympathy when he read that part. He recalls that much. It was sad, but really if Tommy was in the unloved prince’s place, he would have been louder, more demanding, more assertive of the truth.

Unloved or not, he was a prince, for Prime’s sake. Act like it.

The execution was really nothing beyond a moment of sympathy. It was nothing special, nor was it something that he should really mind. The story was fictional, after all, even if he’d formed a little bit of attachment for the poor kid. He had paused for like five minutes after the youngest prince’s execution, before continuing.

The plot continues with the estranged twin brother overthrowing the Imperial prince, and thus ruling the empire instead of him. Due to some plot armor, the Imperial Prince was never killed and was instead trapped in an undisclosed location that even the readers weren’t privy to knowing.

And voila, happy ending, the aggressive ruler is replaced with a kind ruler, and that’s it.

Tommy had closed the book, left it on his bookshelf to be forgotten forever and went on with his life that concerns very little amounts of monarchy,chaos and execution.

It had been nothing special, truly.

So why is it that Tommy finds himself in the body of this unloved prince? Tommy pauses at that, letting the information sink in and sponge into his childish brain. He firmly places his hand on either side of the book, making sure that Puffy doesn’t move it until he’s made sense of his situation.

He looks up to Puffy, and points at his eyes—which only resulted to Tommy smacking his under eyelid with his fingers. It hurt, but this was a very important question that he hopes Puffy would understand. He really needs to confirm something. It was impertinent that he sees this– how has he never seen this before? He’s never seen himself before. To further show the importance of his question, Tommy babbles.

And thankfully, for whatever reason the deities that sent him down here had, she did understand.

“Oh! I realize that you’ve never seen your reflection, have you?” She laughs, before fishing something from her pockets. She brings out a little pocket-mirror, something small and convenient that folds into two so it can fit a pocket.

She opens it and turns it to Tommy. “That’s you, Theseus!” Puffy says with a smile and chipper tone. “Look, you look just like your brother.” She says it like it’s a good thing.

He sees himself, and he sees blond hair (much like the Emperor’s), and glittering, blue, jewel eyes.

Oh fuck.

Oh shit.

Tommy’s frustrations had finally spilled from his small, infant-sized body.

He outright bawls, sending Puffy into a panic because Tommy rarely ever cries, much less a full out bawling.

Tommy’s pride wouldn’t let that happen of course, because he’s not a kid.

But this situation calls for it.

He’s going to get executed for fuck’s sake.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Bloody F***ing Prince.

Theseus was seven years old when he first met a member of his family. The boy, prior to this meeting had not really cared for the lack of kin in his surroundings, but his caretaker told him all about them. He did not care about those stories though, because why would a seven-year-old child long for something so trivial as family? Why would he, when he has other concerns in his own Palace?

He had been in the garden after having wandered around for too long. There was very little that he could do in his spare time, after all, because other than his tutors who were unwilling to educate him , the maids had no interest in mingling with the unloved prince. His toys have been taken already, the maids had  told him that he was past the age for petty toys.

In reality though, they had stolen these treasures and sold them for riches.

Little Theseus had not minded, because this was what little he could offer to the people who were doomed in serving such a prince. He is belittling to be with, is what he was told.

Yet he had a shift in paradigm the moment he laid eyes on the first prince, his eldest brother, Technoblade.

Theseus had been lost, and had unknowingly crossed the border between the Emerald palace and the Sapphire palace. So, when he saw his elder brother’s large and confident stride, the glimmer of his ruby eyes that commanded respect, the way that everyone withered away at the side of his brother, Theseus could not believe himself.

He was related to this man, the Imperial Prince.

And for the briefest moment, a moment that Theseus would never forget in his life, the Imperial Prince had locked eyes with Theseus. Forever felt like a second. Just for the briefest second.

The little prince had felt his heart stop, as if it had also taken a moment to fully believe this moment.

The Imperial Prince, his brother, had only ignored the little prince.

But that moment was everything for little Theseus.

Tommy finds himself cringing at that particular memory regarding Theseus. He’s in the body of this wimp? What happened to ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’? This Theseus kid saw his brother and decided to dedicate his entire life to this image, only for him to get slain by his idol because he got accused of killing the brother who actually loved him?

Trash. Trash novel. Trash ‘family dynamic’. Trash. The lot of it.

Will Tommy change it? No, not much, because Theseus was the canon fodder. He wasn’t vital to the plot. The Imperial Prince could have killed anyone after being pissed off and William would have still called him out on this bullshit, and then dethrone him.

He won’t be changing the plot. If anything, he’ll be speeding it up because whichever poor fuck gets accused of killing William will take less steps until the execution. Less people will protest–not that there were much in the first place, but some people had tried if he remembered the novel correctly. So, he won’t be changing anything at all with his genius plan.

Which was to book it the fuck out of there.

The infantilized Tommy-slash-Theseus crawls around, ignoring how his knees might burn. He’s building resistance while he plots. Tommy ignores how Puffy, who had resigned to being the constant companion of Theseus after Tommy had decided not to deal with inadequate caretakers, looks at him fondly as he circles around on the carpet.

He babbles as he moves. He has to take oral note of his plans, after all.

The Imperial Prince, more informally known as the Blood Prince, and personally known as Prince Technoblade. He is a cruel prince and the acting ruler of the Antarctic Empire, the Empire of Ice. Even so, many acknowledge his atypical method of ruling as effective. The novel had taken great care in explaining why he’s been on the throne for as long as he has. The empire thrives, yet it thrives at the cost of a bloodshed of its own greedy people. Necessary evil, it had so kindly been pointed out.

That leads to the other name of the Sapphire palace, which was the Ruby court. With color alone, one could associate bloodshed with its origins. Which is correct. This had been the palace where tyrant dukes were called over, and where the Prince Technoblade killed them all off.

(Tommy personally hates this logic. Sure, dickhead, drop your youngest brother in your slaughterhouse. Pig bastard.)

The people of the Empire pride themselves on thinking that corruption is no issue in their country.

Tommy however thinks that it’s bullshit.

Corruption is definitely an issue here, because it’s a monarchy damn it. To think that despite the complaints of the palace court, the pig bastard had out and murdered his own brother.

Of course, Little Theseus did not know that.

At the age of seven, Theseus will have his presence known by Technoblade. Tommy does not want that. He doesn’t know if Technoblade in the novel had remembered that moment, or if it mattered at all to Technoblade, but Tommy does know that the best way to survive is not existing in Technoblade’s mind. Zero. None at all. Theseus who? This would make his plans of escape easy.

So far, he has a simple set of plans. A through C.

1.   Acquire enough riches and stash them. Make sure not to be known. Escape at the ripe age of Nine. This will make escape easier because they won’t know that he’s missing in the first place.
2.   Acquire enough riches and stash them up to the point where William appears into the story. That way, he won’t have any monetary problems and his disappearance would be overshadowed by the fact that William is there. They’ll focus on his presence!
3.   Appeal to the Imperial Prince just enough that he wouldn’t kill his youngest brother.

Tommy pauses and blinks in consideration at the last option.

He then ends up laughing. That’s not even an option.

Scratch what he said earlier. He’s got two plans. Plans A and B. Plan C is stupid and dumb and is probably from whatever is left of Theseus in him.

That part had better die because Tommy has no plans being executed. These Technoblade and William characters can screw off and find their own canon fodder to blame, execute, then mourn over, thank you very much. Too bad for them that Tommy found autonomy and decided to fuck off.

This leaves another issue though. He looks up at the top of the shelves, and finds that the sparkling, bejeweled trinkets are all missing. The first time he noticed his things disappearing he thought it was just his imagination, but when he witnessed a maid pocketing his golden rattle first-hand, Tommy had caused a riot and wailed.

Puffy had caught that maid and further investigated the issue. In the end, a lot of maids were discharged from duty due to theft, and without any further punishment left the palace. That was dumb but the fact that they were even stealing in the first place was even dumber. If he remembers the system of the palace’ court, the members are of fucking nobility. They have their own fucking money! They’re children with no other responsibilities since they’re not heirs, and they’re not particularly special. Nobility alone are able to take any sort of role in the fucking palace, which is to say– these fuckers were rich in the first place. Puffy intervened and maybe ruined their credibility, but…

It did not remove the issue, though.

His wealth is dwindling. These peasant-noble-bastards were stealing all his gold!

So here he is, practicing and exercising his muscles so he could walk. He’s going to hoard so much shit before it all gets stolen. It’s his. These people owe it to him! He’s literally destined to die! The audacity of them.

Truly, Puffy is the only one he could trust.

Tommy tilts his head up, now looking at her. She notices him, and she smiles. “Hello there, Theseus.” She coos.

Puffy, who mind you was previously the captain of the entirety of the Empire’s Naval Forces, second only to the command of the Royal Family. Truthfully, Tommy had not minded much about Theseus’ origins, but Puffy had been a character who caught his eye solely because she was badass.

She was the captain of the Empire’s Naval Forces, the one who acted on the orders of the Emperor before he left, but she had let go of her title in order to take charge of Theseus’ welfare. The novel had mentioned that the reason why Puffy had let go of such an important title was because she had children of her own in the North. She had sympathy for the little Prince who was going to be alone in the Sapphire Palace (once the Ruby Palace, which had been basically the royal slaughter house).

So she serves as both Tommy’s bodyguard and as his nanny.

Truthfully, Puffy was the only one that Theseus could trust, and by extension, Tommy as well. Her loyalty to prince Theseus who she raised had caused a ruckus for the latter parts of the story. The novel had mentioned that she had been beheaded after causing a failed rebellion for the youngest prince’s freedom, only to have her work be picked up by the Second Prince– the Prince of Song himself.

Fly high, Puffy—or not. Tommy will be leaving before that happens and he won’t be the reason for people’s execution. Puffy will be spared by Tommy’s choices. Really, he’s a martyr over here.

Tommy was planning on thinking of more plans though. There should be moves he could take, right?

Before he could come to a new plot, Tommy finds himself distracted by a golden ball rolling past his way. It looks legit. Something straight out of a bloody fairytale. It is rich.

Plan A is a go.

First things first though.

He is not going to be called Theseus.

“Prince Tommy,” the maid sighs. Tommy recognizes her as one of his nannies—Clara, of the house Moonlock. She was of noble blood, as were all of the other servants of the Royal Family. Tommy trusts this one because she’s young and new and she wasn’t one of the dumb fucks who wanted to steal his shit early on. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to give you chocolate—”

“But please!” Tommy whines, eyes wide. The crystal illusion placed in his blue orbs had created an effect that made his eyes look bigger and wider, and thus making him cuter. He knows his wiles. He’s a genius after all. Everything is within his calculations. “I was good today. I promise!” He insists.

Clara’s stern façade withers away rather easily before her shoulders fall. “Alright.” She says, looking left and right for anyone who might come across their hidden exchange. “But if anyone asks, you didn’t get it from me, okay?” She says, placing a finger in front of her lips in a hushing motion.

Tommy raises a fist in celebration as she pockets out a small bag of confections. “Thank you, Ms. Clara!” he exclaims in a loud whisper voice. “You’re my favorite!”

The maid raises her eyebrow, amused. “Even above Puffy?” She asks teasingly as she hands the boy the bag.

He opens it when he holds it, and he pops one of them in his mouth. Satisfied, he grins. “Clara,” he starts in an adoring voice– then in deadpan, he says: “let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” before running off in the opposite direction.

She gasps, running after him. He giggles as he runs ahead, making steep turns in the hallways so he could lose her easily.

“Prince Tommy!” She calls after him.

Prince Theseus, informally known by the Sapphire Palace’s courtiers as Prince Tommy, is now four years old. He’s well-known by the court members of the Sapphire Palace. He’s gained the respect of these courtiers because of his charms.

Believe it or not, Tommy does have charm.

People find him annoying at first, but his golden heart seeps through the seemingly spoiled façade as the time passes. That’s how the palace courtiers end up loving him.

Of course, Tommy had planned that. Theseus was an insignificant and unremarkable thing. Tommy, however, is all charisma. He’s lovable, and cute. He takes advantage of his baby talk, and short legs. He stumbles sometimes, which is what led many of them to finally remove the cursed hallway carpets. Those are dumb and stinky and sometimes he finds that the courtiers of the Sapphire palace don’t clean them at all.

“Prince Tommy!” Tommy giggles as he rushes across the halls of the Sapphire Palace. He goes through the hidden passageways that he’s long since figured out, straining his ears for any footsteps that could alarm him of a stealthy maid chasing after the youngest prince.

Eventually Tommy finds himself barefoot in the palace a lot of the times.

Tommy is loved, and spoiled, and incredibly smart.

He’d been curious of other languages when he was one and able to gain motor senses in his hands. Common speak was the same as the language they speak here, which doesn’t even have a name due to how widespread it is. That’s one difference he can take note of, at least. Common speak is a lot more common in this place, which is to say it is a lot more convenient for him because he doesn’t have to relearn an entirely new language or system of writing. Which is to say, easily he’d begun writing when he was one just to see if his hands could handle it.

“Puffy” Tommy wrote on a piece of paper. It was shaky at first due to his dumb lack of motor memory, but it is at least a bit legible. He got up from his seat and showed it to Puffy.

Who in turn had stars in her eyes when she saw that he was writing. Tommy was honestly a bit offended. Did she think that all the times they were effectively communicating before were just baby whims?

And so that even led Tommy to starting his education earlier than most children his age. Being an adult in a child’s body, he easily advanced through a lot of his own studies. That resulted in higher education at his young age upon her insistence, but Tommy is nothing if not persistent. He’s going to show them that he’s not supposed to be executed so easily, be it the command of the damned Imperial Prince or not.

He’s got three plans after all. If plans A and B have failed him (which is highly unlikely for reasons he will later tackle), he will surely do plan C with a breeze (not, but the extra education and the praise will probably make it easier.) It’s all better safe than sorry.

And so, four years later, Tommy is now very much familiar with the Sapphire Palace and its surrounding gardens. He’s also smart and sneaky enough to be well-acquainted with the secret passageways that not even the adventurous courtiers dare enter. The problem is that he still hasn’t gone far enough to know where exactly the boundaries are. He hasn’t encountered civilization beyond the damned palace, and based on what he remembers from the book, he’s as far away from the main palace as he could possibly be. He’s safe.

Eh, not like it matters. This place is huge and he doubts that these little feet could lead him far enough to go somewhere perilous.

“Prince!” The maid’s voice echoes through the hallways, but Tommy has long since gone.

Stealthily, he rushes to his bedroom. Upon arrival at the place, Tommy takes some bags from under his bed and carries it in his arms.

Inside these very heavy bags are pure gold trinkets and jewelry that can be found all over the palace. Tommy has them stashed in every hidden place in the palace.

Unfortunately, they were about to do a thorough cleaning of the Sapphire Palace, so Tommy had to find someplace else to stash them. Damn, he’s gone so far that they’re actually doing their jobs now. Serves them right. Fuck needless nepotism, they’re all here to freeload when in reality Tommy is the only one here with the right.

Their fucking audacity.

But at least they do their fair share of work, now that he’s established some bloody fucking respect in this house. Sure it made things like keeping his stash of gold around a bit hard, but it’s better than outright neglect. 

Fortunately, however, Tommy had found a place under the trees in the gardens. He digs them in locations only he could remember. It was very effective, in his opinion. He’s a genius, after all.

He leaves through the balcony, climbing down the tree and running to the palace garden where the trees were more abundant and thicker.

Tommy has been doing this for nearly a month now. This means only good things for him, because this means he’s stashed a lot of his goods and treasures away through the four years that he’s had proper mobility.

The boy stops at a tree, deciding that it will be nice for a new location of treasure digging.

He leans over to begin his dig, but he gets distracted by a sudden flash of light that shone to his eyes. Tommy pauses, and he turns towards it, seeing nothing but brightness in that direction.

Tommy looks down to his decided location, before looking back up at this bright thing.

In the end, his curiosity won over. He brings his heavy bag with him as he goes to explore. It’s a bit heavy, but it’s nothing that a strong boy like him can handle.

Without a doubt, Tommy believes that this is the best decision he’s ever made. This is solely because he has struck literal gold.

The thing that shone in his eye earlier? It was the reflection off of golden statues the size of his head. They were small figurines of muscular people seated on marble stools, staring at the sky longingly. 

Meanwhile, this golden child was staring at all these gold longingly.

Then he’s a bit skeptical. Are these things real gold?

Well, he can certainly check.

Tommy moves to the statues, specifically to a short one. He leans over, and bites it to see if it leaves a mark. He has to check if it’s real and if it’s not just some cheaply painted marble.

Admittedly, he struggles a little. He can’t reach much, which is why he’s biting the ankle of this random statue.

He’s so focused into his golden endeavors that he does not realize the looming shadow that approaches him from behind as he’s biting this golden figure of a man.

“What is this filthy bug doing in my palace?”

Tommy’s eyes widen, and he turns around quickly upon the sudden presence behind him.

In his shock, he dropped his bags of treasure. The gold and the jewels scatter at his feet with a rattle of metals against the ground and against each other. Tommy’s body has tensed, as he tries to hide the bite that he’s made on the heel of what he suspected was tawdry gold (which was in fact, genuine).

He looks up at the unexpected company, and sees a man with rose-tinted hair, tied loosely into a ponytail. The stranger is directly against the sun as he stands tall before Tommy. Not much of his features could be seen other than the—

The eyes.

His eyes are like rubies that glitter. Tommy would have said that it was beautiful, that it was astonishing. He would have said that those eyes were clearer than any gemstone that he’s ever seen in his lives. He would have said so many things, had he not recognized the sheer danger that those eyes held when it looks at Tommy like the young boy is a mere cretin that deserves to be executed for existing.

So, Tommy is frozen while those ruby eyes stare him down. His eyes are sharp– not as a compliment. It radiates fucking danger.

This goes on for what seems like hours before recognition seemed to finally flash in the older man’s eyes. “Ah, I recognize you.” He says monotonously as a smile is placed across his lips.

The smile is nothing close to comforting. It sends chills down Tommy’s spine as he looks up at the man who could very well kill him. It’s sinister, going along nicely with his sharp ruby eyes and shadowed expression due to being against the light.

“You are Theseus.”

The sound of Tommy’s name on the man’s lips sounds foreign– no, that was polite. Foreign indicates that it was simply strange and new. This one doesn’t run new. It sounds disgusting on the man’s tongue. Theseus sounds like filth when he speaks it.

On a normal day Tommy would bark back at him. “Technoblade is not any fucking better.” It is at the tip of his tongue held back only by whatever sliver of restraint and self-preservation he has.

Tommy could acknowledge what he says, but he doesn’t know if speaking would get him killed. In the Prince of Song, so many had been killed for much less. He won’t try his luck here. He could reply, or respond in any way, but he’s afraid to confirm the fact that he is Theseus—the very same Theseus who this man is destined to just execute for false, unproved allegations of murder.

He doesn’t speak, and he thinks that it’s a very wise choice on his part because the man before him is the Blood Prince. The Imperial Prince. Technoblade.

The boy watches helplessly as Technoblade’s eyes finally look away from Tommy and settles instead on the floor where the ringing of gems and precious metals had been heard just a moment ago. He sees how Technoblade regards it for a moment, and looks at something behind Tommy.

The man’s lips quirk a little. “An ankle-biter.” He says humorously to himself, “Of course. Achilles’ would be damned to meet you.” He jokes, but this only confuses an already internally-panicking Tommy who is seriously considering outright running away at this moment.

Technoblade crouches, eyes returning again to the small four-year-old’s eyes as if he was studying the poor child. “You’ve grown since I last saw you.” He comments.

Tommy considers that maybe Technoblade is considering slaughtering him right now for being bigger than he was last perceived. Fuck, when was he even last perceived? 

There’s a confused bit of relief when Technoblade goes up on his feet again, then that relief promptly turns into panic when Technoblade’s hands reach out towards him.

The boy does not dare move. Not even flinch.

Only for the man to carry him in two hands, as if he was weightless.

“Odd.” Technoblade hums. “You’re rather light.” He comments monotonously as he looks over the kid again. What, is he going to get berated for eating less? He’d assumed it’d be in Technoblade’s favor to have less able competition. His eyes rest on Tommy’s face once more as he asks his question. “Alright, kid, what are you doing in my palace?”

That’s where Tommy bluescreens. Oh, no wonder he doesn’t recognize this place. 

His palace?

Oh, he’s fucked up.