Chapter Text
The morning of the incident was quiet. L'manberg was at peace, and two of the three princes relished in it.
Wilbur, the oldest, opened up his window and worked on his latest song, the melodies streaming out of his room to the townspeople below. Occasionally, someone would stop to listen to the music, enchanted by the prince's talent.
Technoblade, the middle, browsed the collection of swords at the market, studying each one to decide if he wanted to add it to his collection. The shopkeepers could hardly breathe as he scanned their selection, afraid that even the slightest mistake would upset him, but he didn't understand why. He was a fighter, sure, but he was more than that. That was one of the many things Technoblade would never understand about others. Regardless, he kept shopping.
However, Tommy, the youngest prince, finds a quiet morning like this absurd. Who, he says, would do something "peaceful" that's really just boring when they could be doing something fun?
So, he decides to go for a walk, stopping to chat with the people he knows. He walks a few miles, fueled by the apple he devoured for breakfast, before coming to a halt at the kingdom's gates. Standing under them is an exasperated looking woman, her arms full of boxes and a giant backpack on her shoulders. She struggles with all the boxes, her whole body shaking under the weight. Meanwhile, the two guards at the gate watch her with deadpan expressions like their job isn't to help people.
"Oi!" Tommy shouts, causing all three of their heads to whip around. "Don't just stand there, dickheads! Help her!"
The guards eyes widen as they realize they've been caught. They rush towards the woman, taking each box until they're the ones struggling. The woman freezes for a moment, shocked, before she sees Tommy. She storms over to him, poorly disguising her frustration.
"Sir, I was handling that fine! You had no good reason to yell at them!" she exclaims, gesturing towards the guards.
"I mean, I am their boss, ma'am." Tommy points out.
"...Oh." The woman realized who he was. Her face turned beet-red. "Oh my God, you're the prince."
"One of 'em, yeah."
"Shit. I mean, shoot, I…I am so sorry. Sir. I had no idea, I just-"
Tommy laughs and waves his hand. "Relax, relax. My brothers are the more serious ones, I don't really give a fuck. Say, you moving here?"
The change in tone startles the woman for a moment, but she responds, "Yes, actually. Came here from Viridia."
"Ah."
Viridia is the closest kingdom to L'manberg, and the two have been infamous for their rivalry for many years. Before their current king, King Phil, was crowned, the two kingdoms were almost constantly at war. Phil had helped to calm it down almost entirely, and for a few years, they were a bit strained but peaceful towards each other.
However, that changed the day King Dream was crowned.
Dream is an incredibly skilled but even more spiteful king. His father detested the kingdom, so in his honor, he makes his hatred of L'manberg well known. He preaches to anyone who will listen about how Phil is a lazy, undeserving man, and his children were even worse. He's said things that could've caused another war if Phil wasn't so level headed.
People were driven away from the kingdom frequently because of what Dream's told them. Someone moving here meant that they didn't believe it and knew what Dream was. Tommy instantly gained respect for the woman.
"So," the aforementioned one says, snapping Tommy out of his thoughts, "I'm Hannah. You're…Prince Thomas, of course."
"Just call me Tommy," he replies. "The name Thomas fucking sucks."
Hannah laughs, unfazed by Tommy's language. What else can you expect from a 16-year- old boy? "Well, I'll be off to my new house, then." She says, cocking her head in the direction of the house. "Thanks for your help. I kind of needed it."
Tommy had almost forgotten about that while lost in thought about Viridia, but the guards were still standing behind Hannah, their arms full of boxes and awkward looks on their faces.
"You two ought to help her move in," he says to them before leaning in closer to Hannah and whispering, "If they give you any trouble, tell 'em that you'll tell the king. They're real suck-ups to 'im."
"I'll be sure to." The two exchange a smile before Hannah sets off for her house, the guards close behind.
Ahh, Tommy thinks, another job well done. He's so good at being a prince. Maybe he should go relax or something-
"HEY, TOM!"
He jumps a foot in the air and yelps, causing multiple townspeople to stare. He ignores them and whips around, ready to kill whoever just yelled his name, but finds it was just Wilbur. He cackles at his younger brother's shock, even while said brother punches his arm.
"Jesus- what the hell??" Tommy shouts. "You scared the shit out of me!!"
"Sorry," Wilbur replies, putting his hands up placatingly. "Just excited."
"About what?" Tommy squints, instantly suspicious.
"Well, I think I finally finished it. The song."
"What song?"
Wilbur's eyes bulge. "The one I've been working on for weeks! It's the only thing I've been talking about!"
Tommy knows exactly what he's talking about. He's been waking up and falling asleep to Wilbur creating it for a month and a half. "Mm, doesn't ring a bell."
"You're insufferable. You know that?"
"I try."
Wilbur rolls his eyes and drops the argument. "I was thinking I could perform it for you. Dad and Techno too, if they're up for it."
The younger prince bites the inside of his cheeks, attempting to stop the smile that tugs at his lips. He adores his brother's music but will pretend he hates it until his dying day.
"What do you say?" the older prince asks, though he already knows the answers.
"...Fine, I guess."
Wil's smile grows. "I saw Techno earlier, I'll go grab him. Find Dad and head to the main room!"
Tommy opens his mouth to respond, but Wil is already gone, running towards the market. He sighs, but it's full of affection, and he makes his way to the castle.
Once inside, he directs the first two guards he sees to go find the king. He doesn't always like the guards, but they have their perks; a major one being he can get things done without having to lift a finger. Satisfied with the minimal effort given, Tommy walks into the main room, sinks into his favorite armchair, and waits. And waits, and waits, until Wilbur strolls in with a begrudged Technoblade behind him.
Right on cue, the guards Tommy had sent out earlier walk in. They're out of breath, and by the looks on their faces, are about to share some bad news.
"We couldn't find him, sir," the first says. "I promise you, we searched the entire castle."
"Is he out somewhere by chance?" the second adds, her eyebrows knit together with concern.
"Doubt it. He said he'd be staying in today."
"I should add," the first guard continues, "that the throne room was locked."
All five of them are silent for a moment, looking around at each other with bated breath. Then, at the same time, they all begin running to the throne room. It's on the top floor of the castle, so the other staff are left to watch in confusion as they clamber up flights of stairs, not stopping until they're outside the door and gasping for air.
Techno grabs the doorknob and tries to open the door. Nothing happens.
"Shit. Anyone got a spare key?" he asks, turning to the rest of the group. The second guard searches through her pocket and pulls one out, tossing it to Techno. He catches it and sticks it into the doorknob, and when he tries to turn the knob, he succeeds.
He doesn't open the door, though, his hand unmoving.
"Open it, dickhead!" Tommy shouts.
"I'm afraid of what I'll find," Techno doesn't say. Instead, he takes a sharp breath and pushes the door open.
The throne room is a complete mess. The window is open and cracked. Furniture is turned over. Papers litter the floor. The only thing standing is the throne itself.
A trail of blood lines the floor, stopping at the windowsill.