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‘Do you have to leave?’ Tommy whines, pushing down the nausea he’s been feeling lately as he stands at the entranceway of Antarctica’s Palace, staring up at his brother.
Wilbur’s dressed in enough finery to drown any other person, swaddled up in a cloak of fur-lined purple-velvet. Unlike their dad, Phil, who’s already told him that he can’t come, Wilbur might be more inclined to listen. He’s only six years older than Tommy, at the grand age of twenty-one. Heir to the Antarctic throne, despite the fact that they share an older brother, Technoblade.
If Wilbur is dressed fit to be a King, Technoblade would be… what’s above a King? A God, maybe. He doesn’t spare Tommy a glance, which is hardly a rarity, and instead focuses on his horse. Carl is tacked up and ready to make the journey to the southern Kingdom of Essempi, where the Queen, Hannah, is awaiting them.
Only, Tommy isn’t invited.
Which is frustrating, because almost everyone is going. His brothers, his dad, most of the army. It leaves Tommy with a couple of specialist guards to protect him, and the other castle staff.
Wilbur frowns, straightening his cloak where Tommy tugged at it. ‘Stop being clingy, Toms,’ he teases, as Tommy goes to hit him, ‘We’ll be back in a month, or two at the most.’
That is no comfort for a fifteen-year-old Prince that isn’t allowed to join them on their expedition. He wants to go; he wants to see the south! It must be warm, far warmer than the icy reaches of the Antarctic Empire.
‘I’m not fucking clingy, bitch. I’m just annoyed that you’re going without me,’ he says, then realises that it kind of disproves his argument. Wilbur laughs, ruffling his hair as Phil arrives. Unlike the two princes, the King is dressed in more conservative clothing. Tommy pretends to be too annoyed at his dad to accept the hug that’s offered out, flipping him off instead.
‘Oh come on, mate, we’ll be back soon. I’m sure you’ll have great fun causing mischief,’ Phil appeases.
Tommy juts his chin out in defiance.
The nausea in his stomach wells up again, and he resists the urge to gag. He’s not sure if he ate something – maybe all the chocolate he stole from the kitchens last night – but he’s not going to prove his dad right about that fact. Instead, he refuses to say goodbye when they mount their horses.
‘Be good! The Commander is in charge while we’re gone,’ Phil reminds, sending a nod to Dream, who remains on the steps of the castle.
Tommy likes Dream. He’s more Techno’s friend than anyone else’s, but Tommy thinks that they get along okay. Okay enough that he feels comfy being left with him.
The horses leave, the procession following. Tommy watches them all the way down the hill to the gates of the castle, and then into the city beyond.
The youngest prince turns away from the sight and heads back into his home.
**
Dream keeps an eye on Tommy. The prince is known for being loud, chaotic and downright impossible to babysit. It’s no surprise that he wasn’t invited to the Southern Kingdom, even if Dream felt bad that the rest of his family didn’t argue on his behalf. As mischievous as the kid is, he’s not bad. Just bored being cooped up inside stone walls with nobody his own age to mess around with.
Which is why Dream is concerned by the fourth day since the departure of the King’s procession, when Tommy has yet to properly emerge from his suite. His servant, a young boy by the name of Henry, tells the Commander in whispered tones that the Prince hasn’t been feeling well. That he hasn’t managed to keep food down.
Trust Tommy to get sick when his family leave.
He ignores Tommy’s denial of entry when he knocks, and instead opens the door to the Prince’s suite. Inside, the normal entryway is untouched, so Dream walks further to reveal the four-poster bed.
Tommy – Theseus, as he should call him – is sprawled out on top of the sheets. They’re a mess, wrapped around his body with pillows in a strangely organised pattern surrounding him. Blond hair is sweaty and plastered to the kid’s form, like the shirt he’s wearing.
All in all, Tommy looks sick. Really sick.
‘We’re going to the med-wing,’ Dream tells him, boots loud on the stone floor as he moved over to the edge of the mattress.
Tommy doesn’t raise his head. ‘Fuck you,’ he mutters into the pillow, skin flushed.
Dream yanks the covers back, smiling slightly when the kid flails. At least he’s still strong enough to fight, Dream thinks, as he forces the kid to put on some slippers and wrap a robe around him. They walk down the mostly empty corridors together, until they arrive at the med-wing.
Most of the Healers are gone, leaving Niki in charge. ‘Oh! Your grace, Commander, I wasn’t expecting a visit,’ she calls, before her eyes narrow on Tommy.
‘Theseus is feeling unwell,’ Dream tells her, lightly shoving the boy forward.
The kid tenses up. ‘I’m fine. Probably just a stomach-bug,’ Theseus argues, as Niki guides him over to one of the beds.
‘Symptoms?’ she asks, reaching for a clipboard.
Tommy crosses his arms stubbornly.
Dream grimaces. He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with a kid too prideful to ask for help. ‘Vomiting. Exhaustion.’
A betrayed look comes from the young Prince, but he finally turns to Niki. ‘I ache everywhere. And, uh, my back hurts?’
Niki looks slightly confused, gesturing for him to turn around so that she can stare. ‘What type of pain? Stabbing, burning—’
‘Sharp. Like… like something’s under my skin?’ Tommy quietly explains, flinching when Niki’s hands rest on his shoulders.
Dream watches as her hands begin to move, keeping an eye on the way Tommy’s fingers clutch at the sheets desperately. The usually-bashful kid is silent, biting his lip to stop whatever pained sound is threatening to come out.
Niki stops her examination, and Dream notes that she looks very… pale. ‘Tommy, I’m going to need to do a quick scan, okay? Just like back on your stomach for me, that’s it,’ she guides, helping the Prince settle.
Dream tries to catch her eye, but the Healer refuses. She busies herself with different objects, ones that Dream isn’t familiar with. He’s never been good with magic, never been able to use the force to heal. It’s an art that requires practice and natural skill, even the Prince-Heir can’t properly wield magic. Technoblade is better with strength runes, and Tommy…
Tommy doesn’t practice.
‘By the Lady,’ Niki whispers, staring at a screen as the light panels she’s arranged begin to glow. Dream takes that as an invitation to stare, halting when he sees what looks to be an x-ray.
‘What is that?’ he demands, staring at the mess of bones – by Prime, what is that – on the kid’s back.
‘Those—’ Niki begins hesitantly, as Tommy shudders on the bed, ‘—are wings.’
**
Tommy’s too hot. Every muscle in his body screams as he tries to roll back over, unable to get comfy. Above him, the Commander murmurs another gentle word of reassurance, pressing a wet rag to the nape of his neck.
‘—don’t fucking care how far away they are, find them. The King is the only avian known, we need him here now,’ Dream orders whoever stands in the doorway, but Tommy stays quiet as he shuffles closer to the man.
He’s warm. A different kind of heat than the one that plagues him, a comforting kind that makes him slump into the man’s lap and tilt his head back for more of the cool water that drips down his spine.
‘Did you find anything?’ Dream says sometime later, when Niki appears with more medicine.
He takes it dutifully as Dream guides him to sit up, before replacing the wet rag.
‘Nothing much,’ Niki says as he pulls away, ‘We’ve got Karl scouring the texts for information on emergences. His Majesty never permitted any medical records on his own, so we’re in the dark—’
Dream exhales. ‘Send scouts out to the nearby villages. Anyone with information will be paid in gold if they know anything.’
Tommy shuffles closer to the Commander. He misses his brothers, and his dad, and he’s so cold. Too hot on the outside, too cold on the inside, with something squirming in his back that makes him want to retch again.
Niki’s hands come back into his vision, and Tommy realises that he lost the battle with his stomach. He’s leaning over the edge of the bed, throwing up into the bucket they brought. ‘Shh, that’s it, you’re okay. Deep breaths,’ she soothes, and Tommy wonders when someone thought to pin his hair back so it didn’t fall in front of his eyes.
‘Want Wilb’r,’ Tommy slurs, shaking as he tries to sit up.
Niki’s eyes flash with sympathy. ‘They’ll come as soon as they know, Tommy,’ she promises, kissing his forehead despite the sweat that beads over his skin.
Tommy nods, letting his bodyweight pull him back to the sheets below him. Dream returns with more clothes, ones on his wrists and neck and across his forehead, and Tommy vaguely makes grabby hands in his direction. ‘Stay,’ he protests, when the Commander goes to leave.
Dream listens.
**
He storms into the room so quickly that the others jolt, looking up at him as he makes it to the central table where the books are spread out. ‘What news? I can’t be long, Tommy doesn’t want to be alone,’ Dream explains, glancing between his friends.
Sapnap and Quackity work in the royal guard with him. Karl is the head of the library institution, which leaves George to tend to the many plants in the greenhouses that spread out across the palace-grounds. Over the past two days since they found out Tommy’s growing wings, George has been using the medicinal plants to keep the kid out of pain.
Or, at least to help manage it.
Karl exchanges a look with the others. One that instantly makes the hairs on the back of Dream’s neck rise, because there’s something they’ve learned. ‘What is it?’ he demands, fingers clenching together nervously.
If the youngest Prince dies in his care, Dream… he couldn’t live with himself. That’s a kid. Ever since Tommy arrived at the Palace five years ago, at the ripe old age of ten, the kid has been a menace. But they all love him, as much as they might deny it. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t biologically the King’s son, because Technoblade wasn’t either, and the two Princes had been chosen for something more important than blood.
They were family.
Karl turns one of the books to him. ‘Emergences are the process of the wings breaking free from under the skin, turning the avian into a fledgling. From what we can tell, Tommy can’t be far off this process. It… without another avian, it’ll be difficult.’
Fuck.
‘What else?’ Dream insists, staring at the horrifying drawing of an avian slumped on the ground, blood dripping from a set of black wings.
George takes over where Karl falters, ‘There’s a set of instructions on how the emergence should happen. A figure is needed for the fledgling to bond to.’
Dream scans the books that they’ve found. The list of instructions are relatively simple, save for the one that says teach the fledgling to fly, but the rest seem like parental roles. A wave of bitterness hits him at the thought of Tommy going through this without his adoptive father and brothers.
‘It’s basically a parent,’ Sapnap points out, and Dream shrugs.
‘I’ll figure it out.’
‘Dream,’ George counters, glancing at him worriedly, ‘The bond formed between a fledgling and their imprinted is permanent. He’ll rely on you in some form or another for as long as you both live.’
Like family. Dream’s got his brothers here, obviously. Quackity, Karl and Sapnap are all close enough to be considered his blood.
‘I’ll check with Tommy,’ he assures them, staring at the first task.
Bring the fledgling to a large body of water for their emergence.
**
‘H’rts, Dream, I can’t,’ Tommy protests, sobbing into the man’s jacket as he’s lifted up into Dream’s arms. The man soothes him quickly, promising that they don’t have to travel far, that he’s going to make the pain better.
Tommy doesn’t think anything will make the pain better. He wishes his mum was here, to hold him and run her hands through his hair, to comfort him. ‘Want mum,’ he tells the person holding him, who tenses.
‘I’m sorry,’ Dream says in response, and Tommy realises they’re heading towards the stables.
He also realises that he’s just asked for someone who is very much dead. Tommy sobs again, but this time he’s not sure it’s completely because of the pain in his back.
‘Was… was your mum an avian too?’ Dream asks, as he mounts the stable-block and slides into the saddle of one of their best horses, while balancing Tommy at the same time. It’s actually impressive, which Tommy would say if he could think of anything other than the fact his back burns like fire.
Niki’s also here, with a couple of others that Tommy can’t blink back tears enough to identify.
‘S’a special bird, got her kill’d,’ Tommy murmurs, head dropping to the crook of the man’s neck.
The Commander wraps an arm around his waist carefully. ‘I’m sorry you lost her.’
Tommy got found by the King two years after his mother died. Not that he told Phil that. He adamantly states that he never remembers any parents of his, that he grew up on the streets. Dream must know this story as well, but he doesn’t say anything about Tommy having lied for the past five years. ‘You sh’d go,’ Tommy tells Dream, weakly clinging to him, ‘Don’t want you to be stuck w’me.’
Arms tense, but don’t release their hold on him. ‘I won’t be stuck with you, Tommy. It’s a bond, right? Like… like brothers,’ he tries, and Tommy ignores the way some part of his brain sings.
A fledgling usually always bonds with their parent. Tommy hasn’t spoken much with Phil about his own wings, but he knows that the King’s bonded was his mother.
Tommy regrets hiding his heritage from the royal family. They’re going to be so mad when they come back and find out Tommy’s been lying to them.
‘S’more like a parent,’ he quietly whispers, barely heard over the hoofbeats.
Dream glances down at him, before smiling. ‘I’m not changing my mind, kid. I know you’d probably rather have Phil, or even Technoblade or Wilbur, but you’re stuck with me I’m afraid,’ he teases lightly, and Tommy wonders why the man assumes he would have preferred a bond with one of them.
Tommy doesn’t call Phil dad out loud. Never has. The thought of having a parental bond with him, a bond that was supposed to be with his mum, makes his stomach twist again.
‘J’st want you, Dr’m,’ Tommy tells the Commander, sinking back into slumber.
**
Dream has his instructions on what to do. Yet, as they wade into the lake, and Tommy’s skin begins to burn, it seems to be an instinct. The others wait on the sandy shores, watching as the water reaches Dream’s waist, then his chest, before he glances down to Tommy. The boy’s eyes flutter open, pupils dilated and cheeks dark red. ‘Get m’out, it hurts,’ the boy pleads, and Dream’s never seen Tommy so vulnerable.
The youngest Prince really doesn’t speak that much about feelings. He’s loud and bold and a pain in Dream’s ass when he has to protect the youngest royal, but it doesn’t matter.
‘I’ve got you,’ Dream swears, and he knows in that moment that he’ll give his life to that promise. This boy, this street rat that the King found, is now Dream’s brother. Fledgling. Whatever the term needs to be.
For some reason, he knows when they need to descend under the water. His clothes soak, clinging to his body as his eyes open under the lake. Tommy is kicking under the pressure of the waves, and Dream watches in shock as the boy’s shirt begins to tear.
Blood stains the water red. Dream exhales, watching bubbles fall from his lips before he rises back up, gasping in air.
Tommy joins a second later, red swirling around the limbs pushing from his back.
George told him the bond was permanent. George didn’t tell him that the bond works both ways.
It starts as something tightening in his chest, then exploding in his mind. The kid is making a bunch of sounds in the back of his throats, ones that Dream can’t replicate with his vocal-box, but he finds himself humming to soothe the kid that flings wet arms around his waist. ‘Mine, mine, you’re doing so well, my fledgling,’ Dream word-vomits, and Tommy responds by tucking his head into Dream’s neck, another sound falling from his lips.
It sounds like a bird, he realises.
Someone is calling to them from the lakeshore, but Dream doesn’t care. He reaches out for the feathers that he knows are behind the boy, digging them into the wings. Tommy chokes out a sound, followed by the appendages pushing back into his hands. Although the blood-water is staining the feathers, Dream is delighted to realise they are mostly golden, with reds and blues flickering.
He drags his fledgling out of the water, then snarls at whoever reaches for them.
‘Woah, easy,’ Sapnap says, but Dream still reaches to curl himself around his fledgling.
George narrows his eyes. ‘Hmm, interesting. Look at his pupils! Protective. Almost like… almost like you’re getting the same rush of endorphins that a mother does with a newborn.’
Tommy chirps, trying to raise one of his wings towards Dream. The Commander beams, stroking through the boy’s wet curls and then glancing to the expanse of feathers.
‘What’s next on the list?’ Niki questions, not daring to get too close to either the Commander or his fledgling.
Sapnap grins. ‘Building a nest.’
**
Tommy hates his reliance on Dream. If the Commander even thinks about leaving, a burst of sounds erupt from Tommy’s throat no matter how he tries to hide them. It takes five whole days for Dream to be able to leave the room, and he only does so to shower and then return to their nest. In the days since his wings formed, they’ve been trying to figure out how they have the ability to communicate without speaking.
His wings are gold. Red and blue feathers hide in the soft underside of the appendages. Dream hums a song from his childhood when he preens Tommy’s wings, apparently.
George joins them on occasion. Apart from the two of them, Tommy doesn’t let anyone in his nest.
On the sixth day, the two of them get summoned to the council room. Tommy chirps constantly, unable to bite the sounds off as Dream stays at his side. Servants watch them walk through the castle with wide eyes, staring at Tommy’s new wings in awe. Whenever someone gets too close, Dream tugs him close.
Tommy’s never been too affectionate with any of the people in the castle. Not even Phil, and his two brothers. But with Dream, and the new bond that has snapped into place between them, he can’t help it. His mum once described the bond as the most powerful thing in her life, and then told him what it felt like when everything went wrong.
He has to tell Dream the truth, before his adoptive family come home. He’s not sure if Phil, as an Elytrian-avian, will recognise his wings. If he does, Tommy might be in danger.
‘Your Grace,’ Sapnap greets, as they walk into the room. Niki is present, with Karl and Quackity on either side of Sapnap. George is seated, but he still bows his head in Tommy’s direction.
‘Why did you need to see us?’ Dream asks, narrowing his eyes at Sapnap as he tugs Tommy closer. His protectiveness makes the avian grin, flicking a wing around his older brother.
George huffs. ‘Stop with the mother-henning, we’re not taking Tommy from you.’
He warbles lightly, and Dream’s gaze softens.
‘Back on topic. We’ve got word that the King’s return is expected in two days.’
Tommy’s heart lurches. The bond flares to life inside his chest, as Dream reaches out to link their fingers together carefully. What’s wrong, fledgling?
Scared-nervous-worried-guilty.
Dream identifies each emotion, then looks back to those in the room. ‘That’s… good. Obviously, that’s good.’
‘You don’t need to bullshit us, Dream. What’s wrong?’
Dream looks to Tommy, and Tommy quietly considers his options. Eventually, he decides that the truth is his best bet. ‘Elytrians are… not fond of my type of avian,’ he quietly says, shifting uncomfortably.
Karl looks intrigued. ‘What kind are you?’
He hesitates again. How much do they know about his kind of hybrid?
‘It’s okay, Tommy. You don’t have to tell us,’ Dream assures, promises, as his imprinted should.
Tommy shrugs. ‘I’m a phoenix hybrid.’
George is the only one that recognises the term. His eyes go wide, and he rocks back in the chair like he’s been hit. Dream glances between them, while Tommy does his best to avoid making eye-contact with anyone.
‘Tommy…’
‘What are we missing?’ Sapnap asks.
The gardener pauses. ‘Phoenixes are reborn after death.’
The grin that Dream sends his way makes Tommy’s heart shatter. ‘That’s great! It means you’re always safe,’ Dream says confidently, bond thrumming with happiness at the thought of his fledgling being safe.
‘Phoenixes are reborn completely after death. A new life, no memories of the last one.’
Dream stops celebrating. Tommy feels it, the moment the bond sours. ‘How… what happens to the bond?’
‘It stays,’ Tommy quietly says, ‘But I won’t remember you.’
Silence stretches for a while, before Dream puts two and two together. ‘You… you didn’t tell the King about your mother.’
Tommy’s not upset that he’s brought her up in front of his friends. They’re Dream’s family, and Dream is now his imprinted, so Tommy naturally trusts them just as much.
‘She didn’t remember me anymore,’ Tommy mutters, hating the way his voice wavers.
Dream exhales loudly, before tucking Tommy closer. ‘It doesn’t matter. We’ll always be bonded, and if something happens, I’ll help you find your way home.’
Tommy allows himself to curl close to his imprinted, wings folding in a sign of submission that nobody but George understands.
Now, he can only hope that the King doesn’t hate him.
**
‘Gold always works,’ George suggests, flicking through the piles of jewels that the stall-owner is selling.
Dream glances to his best friend, before staring at the shiny metal. ‘Are you sure? What if he doesn’t like it, or—’
‘Dream,’ George cuts in, slender fingers wrapping around his wrist, ‘Phoenixes are from the Nethervoid, they adore gold.’
Dream’s heartrate spikes at the contact between the two of them. On the other end of the bond, Tommy can clearly feel it, because the boy instantly sends through a “you better not be getting freaky”. He clears his throat, watching George’s quizzical expression and the way he focuses on the blush rising to his cheeks. When the older man smirks, Dream quickly asks the vendor for the price of some of the gold pieces.
Later, Dream finds himself in the training grounds with his rebellious fledgling. Tommy has somehow manage to pick a fight with one of the recruits, Purpled, and is challenging him to a sparring match. The kid, one of Punz’s cadets, desperately looks over to Dream to be saved.
Tommy doesn’t spar much. He seems to avoid any form of training, so why he’d want to now is a mystery. Besides, they’re supposed to be practicing his flying.
‘Why the sudden fascination with swords?’ Dream asks, sending Purpled away to hide from Tommy’s chaotic energy.
The golden-winged Prince looks over at him with a grin. ‘Our bond allows me to share your talents. That includes being pog at sword-fighting.’
Dream wouldn’t describe his skills as pog, but he’s happy that the kid inherited something of his. Ruffling golden curls, he guides the fledgling up to one of the towers that they use for archery practice.
Honestly, he’s a little out of his depth now. He’s got no idea how flying works, but he’s been studying with George all day to try and figure out how Tommy’s wings work. With a rough plan in mind, they stand on the ledge together.
‘How do we know this will work?’ Tommy asks, and Dream notes that the boy is trembling slightly.
Around the training grounds, people have gathered to watch the spectacle. Dream wants to tell them to keep their eyes of his fledgling, but he also knows that the staff love to gossip about how jealous the royal family are going to be when they return. One thing’s for sure, Dream’s going to be getting the shitty jobs for a lifetime after stealing Tommy away from them.
‘You know I’d never let you get hurt, baby bird,’ Dream cooes, reaching for the sensitive spot on the back of Tommy’s wings.
‘Fuck you, you fucking dickhead, I’m not scared—’ Tommy’s rant is cut off by the way Dream soothes the feathers. It’s funny how pliant the fledgling goes under his touch, soft and gooey and less aggressive.
‘Hate you,’ Tommy slurs, eyes rolling back as a chirping sound leaves his throat.
Dream responds with what he hopes is an imitation of the rumbling sound that Technoblade can make. Once, he noted that it worked to calm Tommy’s temper, and it does the same now to comfort him.
Then, swiftly so as not to change his mind, he pushes Tommy from the ledge.
It isn’t far. Even if the kid didn’t have wings, the soft sand below would break most of the fall.
Not that Dream has to worry, because the moment Tommy is airborne, his wings spread out. Sure, they flap uselessly and he ends up gliding to the floor, but it works. Only, the kid is chirping in distress so loudly that Dream vaults off the side of the tower after him, rolling in the sand to avoid jarring his knees.
He reconnects with his fledgling, quickly smoothing out feathers and making a bunch of strange sounds that he hopes Tommy appreciates.
The kid relaxes, forehead coming to rest on Dream’s collarbone. ‘Bitch,’ the kid whispers softly, and Dream chuckles.
‘Again?’
**
Tommy would be laughing at how both Sapnap and Karl are pinning Dream down, if it wasn’t reassuring to know that he has someone that will fight tooth and nail for him. The man practically growls when George approaches Tommy with the pin, disinfected and ready to pierce his ear.
‘Easy, hotshot,’ Karl murmurs, but there isn’t much they can do.
George doesn’t drag it out. He bends down, tilting Tommy’s head to the side and taking the gifted earring – Tommy’s never seen the point until now – in his hand.
The pin breaks his lobe, and Dream spits out a curse.
It’s over in moments, and Tommy marvels at the shiny gold in his ear. It isn’t the only piece he’s wearing; Dream has gifted him with multiple pieces of nether gold that Tommy adores. He glances at it in the mirror, before turning to allow his imprinted to stare as well. ‘You look good,’ Dream practically purrs, and Tommy beams.
George just rolls his eyes. ‘Idiots. Tommy, go heal that before you manage to get it infected.’
He does as told, approaching the fireplace in the room and sticking his hand in. It obviously doesn’t hurt, considering his heritage, and Tommy allows the warmth to spread up to heal the piercing.
‘You coming to the nest tonight?’ Tommy asks, aiming the question at George.
Dream obviously will. A young fledgling can’t fall asleep without their imprinted, but Tommy has found that he doesn’t mind having another person present.
The man considers the question. ‘As long as you don’t hit me in the face again,’ he finally says, and Tommy grins.
Even if Phil gets mad at him, Tommy knows he’ll be safe.
**
‘Your Majesty,’ George greets, dipping into a low bow as the King frantically searches the room for his youngest.
‘Where is he?’ the King demands, two princes in tow that look ready to tear apart the Kingdom to find their brother.
According to the whispers already filling the palace, the royals have had multiple arguments over the fact that they shouldn’t have left Tommy alone in the first place.
George pauses. He’s not actually sure where Tommy is, but he suspects he’s out in the meadow with Dream. They built a firepit there yesterday, to allow Tommy’s whole body to be submerged in fire. It scared Dream to death the first time. ‘I believe he’s in the meadow, your Majesty.’
Phil pauses. His eyes glance between the council he left behind. ‘What are you not telling me?’
‘His emergence happened,’ George says bluntly, and Phil’s eyes widen.
Clearly, he thought he made it in time. Shocking, considering it’s been almost three weeks since departure. ‘He… who is it?’ Phil asks, and everyone knows what he’s asking.
Who was it that bonded with Tommy.
‘The Commander, your Majesty,’ Karl inputs, standing at George’s side.
Technoblade grimaces. Wilbur looks thoroughly unimpressed, and Phil just looks sad.
‘Take me to him.’
George only hopes they’re behaving right now, because they’re about to have an audience.
**
Dream’s enjoying the last moments he has before the King’s procession arrives this evening. Currently, that means chasing Tommy around the meadow and laughing when the kid trips over his overly large wings. Feathers are left scattered everywhere as they dance back and forth, Tommy’s grip on his sword strong.
The fire roars beside them. It’s cold in the Antarctic, almost constantly, but the heat by their side is nice. Dream wonders if they should be moving south, considering his fledgling is a phoenix, but instead has told the entire palace-staff to keep fires lit inside.
Tommy leaps over the firepit, golden wings catching the sun as he descends, sword hitting Dream’s with a clanging sound. He laughs, deflecting the blow. It doesn’t work well, because Tommy leaps on him like a man possessed. They both fall back into the grass, Tommy sitting up victoriously and spreading his wings towards the sky.
‘You’re a little bitch,’ Tommy cheekily says, before he rises up and runs over to the fire.
Dream’s heart still skips when the kid moves into the firepit. Bare feet tread over embers, flames licking up around his skin as he settles down.
‘Make room for me, idiot,’ Dream scoffs, climbing in beside him.
Apparently, being bonded to a phoenix makes him immune to fire. He’s not sure how that works, but he’s content to settle down with Tommy’s head in his lap, wings spreading out so he can preen them.
As he reaches for the first wing, he notes that they aren’t alone in the meadow. It only takes him a second to recognise the royals, and behind them, the King’s Court.
‘Tommy,’ Dream hisses, shaking the kid so that he raises his head to the approaching figures.
Dream clambers out first, clothes untouched by fire as Tommy follows.
Prince Wilbur comes running.
Logically, Dream knows they mean no harm. They’re family, and Wilbur missed his brother, but Tommy’s panicking and that means that Dream has no choice but to reach for the knife on his belt, levelling it at Wilbur and pushing Tommy behind him. ‘Back the fuck off,’ he snarls, even if his hand is shaking and he’s committing treason.
Tommy chirps behind him, then warbles, high-pitched and afraid. Scared-worried-alone-protect?
Phil holds both hands up in surrender, ‘Back up, Wil. A bonded is highly protective over a fledgling.’
Dream’s knife turns to the King, when Phil approaches. Black wings spread slightly, and Tommy cowers further. ‘Easy, mate. I’m not going to hurt him, you know that,’ Phil soothes, and Dream’s hand trembles.
Tommy’s chirps are basically blending together at this point, and Dream sends out the chuffing sound that Techno can make due to his piglin heritage to calm him.
It works, and Tommy stops chittering just to hide behind him further.
‘Hey, that’s my thing,’ Techno mutters, but Phil ignores his son as he takes another step.
‘A phoenix hybrid, hey? Tommy, son, can I come closer?’
Tommy darts his head to look at Dream, and the Commander has to reluctantly nod.
Surprisingly, Tommy takes his hand and forces him to follow as he broaches the space between them. Phil looks delighted, admiring the feathered wings, before his eyes meet Tommy’s. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here, mate.’
Tommy shuffles awkwardly. ‘S’okay, I asked Dream to be my bonded anyway,’ the kid explains, and Phil’s attention shifts to him.
‘I can see that,’ the King says, before he chuckles, ‘You’ve done a great job, Dream.’
‘All credit should go to Tommy for explaining it to me, your Majesty,’ Dream says, as his fledgling wraps a wing around his shoulders.
Phil looks between them. ‘This wasn’t what I was expecting, but I… I know how powerful the bond can be.’
What he’s not saying is that he wanted it to be him.
Dream doesn’t care. Tommy is his fledgling, and nothing will change that now.
‘He’s mine.’
It isn’t Dream that speaks, it’s Tommy.
Phil’s smile is sad. ‘I can see that, son.’
Tommy grips Dream’s hand tighter. ‘You’re still okay with me being here?’
The King doesn’t need to think about that. ‘Of course. You’re my son, Tommy.’
The fledgling flinches, more noticeable now that Dream knows why it hurts to think of family. Phil picks up on it, as do Tommy’s brothers, but Dream is so much quicker. He curls his hand around the back of Tommy’s neck, letting out another rumbling sound. ‘For life, remember? Every life.’
Tommy is hesitant, but when Dream sends nothing other than reassurances through the bond, the kid nods. He moves closer to Dream, almost like he wants to meld them permanently together, before relaxing into the embrace.
It isn’t perfect. They’ll have things to sort out, and Dream knows that jealousy might be an issue, but it works.
His fledgling.