Chapter Text
It had been so long since they started waking up at 6am, they had forgotten any other way to be. For Laios it had been an easy switch. He had always been a farm boy, and he told Kabru once that if he ever woke before the roosters, he would wake everyone up in their place.
Luckily for everyone in the palace, that particular habit ended with Laios’ childhood. Unluckily for Kabru, he had still been intimately acquainted with cries of the human sort. Makalu at least had been predictable with his crying, almost as accurate as a clock. Thirteen years later with Pumori, they never had that luxury. It seemed like as soon as they had her settled, a new grievance would arise that she needed to announce to the world. Kabru could sympathize with that.
Kabru didn’t like mornings, but he grit his teeth through them. Laios helped by laying his clothes out for him and making him coffee. Kabru got annoyed when he tried to get him up with kisses or hugs, so Laios would often rub his hand between his own like he was starting a fire. It would make Kabru groan and push his hands away, but he got up regardless. Then he would check the calendar as he sipped his coffee.
Once they were dressed, they would check on Pumori. They had just started letting her sleep in her own room, and Kabru could tell Laios was a little sad about it, but wasn’t sad to have their privacy back, if his libido was any indication.
She was already awake when they came in to get her dressed and ready for breakfast, sitting up and slapping the bars of her crib as soon as she saw them. Kabru usually ended up being the one to style her hair since it was closer to his own texture and Laios was completely hopeless with anything related to personal appearance. A simple ponytail would suffice today, since she was having a hard time tolerating his pruning.
Breakfast started at 8am. Usually Marcille would join them. If they were lucky, Falin and Makalu would make an appearance around 9am when their plates had already been cleared. Kids his age should be getting a little more sleep, to accommodate for the hormonal changes happening in their brains and bodies, but Falin’s tardiness seemed to be a quirk more than anything.
Meals were one of the rare times that they got to sit together as a family before they were swept up in the wonderfully mundane chaos of bureaucracy. It was already unprecedented that they got to take on any parental duties, given that the expectation, and no doubt easier option, would be to assign a maid to the task. Through sheer force of will they managed to raise their children and a country through their infancies, and Kabru was very proud of that fact.
Surprisingly, when they arrived at the table, Marcille, Makalu, and Falin were already seated.
“Oh! Good morning. Sorry to keep you all waiting,” Kabru smiled at them, finally awake. The table had been set for 5, a spread of breakfast food in the center. There were eggs, sausages, bacon, oatmeal, 4 kinds of bread, summer fruit, pancakes, butter, jam, coffee, green and black tea and no, to his relief, monster food.
As soon as they walked in, Pumori walked over to her high chair, grabbing at it. Truth be told she was a bit too old to still be using it, but they had found the restrictiveness calmed her down. He walked up behind her and lifted her into it. It was the same chair Makalu used, a gift, handmade by Chilchuck for his first birthday.
“Are you hungry, sweetheart?” He asked her once she was settled inside. She nodded. Kabru tried not to jump for joy. She was getting so good at answering questions.
Laios went to sit on the other side of Pumori, smiling at Makalu as he passed by. It seemed like their relationship was so effortless compared to their own- like their shared Touden genes put them on a wavelength Kabru could never tap into no matter how hard he tried to remain an expert in the subject.
Plus, Makalu had been given more diplomatic responsibilities lately, and predictably he tended to avoid them until someone would have no choice but to hold his hand through them. He wondered where he had learned that trick.
“What do you want to eat?” he asked Pumori.
She pointed at the oatmeal next to Kabru’a hand. He looked at Laios. She didn’t really like sticky things, or at least, the ones she’d tried before. Laios shrugged and grabbed a small bowl for her. Kabru grabbed another plate, putting some sliced strawberries and a half piece of toast on it- two safe options. Laios placed the bowl in front of her. She was too little to know how to use a spoon, so she dug her finger into it and swirled it around. Everyone at the table watched as she stuck it in her mouth, eagerly waiting for her reaction.
It didn’t disappoint. Her face curled in disgust when she finally managed to swallow. Everyone cooed at her in sympathy. She pushed the bowl away, and Kabru replaced it with the other plate.
“How did it go yesterday?” Laios asked.
The instant look of surprise and guilt on their faces told Kabru everything he needed to know. Laios had let a secret spill that was not meant for Kabru’s ears.
“Yes, Makalu, how did it go?” Kabru asked, sweet as honey.
Laios, knowing damn well he would make things worse if he spoke up now, closed his mouth so quickly his teeth actually snapped shut. The older Laios got the more Kabru thought he was becoming a parody of himself.
Makalu smiled quietly to himself and said, “Oh, we just went to a dungeon last night,”
Oh. Kabru took a deep breath. Kabru spun a wheel in his head to decide who he should lecture first: his son for lying to him, his son’s father for lying to him, his (sort of?) sister in law for lying to him, or his other (sort of?) sister in law for lying to him. He took hold of the spinner with both hands before letting it go. It spun so hard and so fast the friction caused it to start smoking. Which part of his brain would the fire take first? His hippocampus? His amygdala? Better yet, just take his whole frontal lobe! What did he need rational thought for anyway? His family obviously had it covered.
“I see,” Kabru said calmly. He had been meditating a lot more lately. He hated it. He noticed everyone at the table was sweating profusely. Oh no, just for him? They shouldn’t have.
“It was all my fault Kabru, really. I mentioned it offhandedly to him that we were collecting samples and he followed us in,” Marcille started, frantically trying to stop a fight. Kabru didn’t understand why. Did he look like an irrational person?
Sure, they all knew Makalu wasn’t allowed in the dungeons. What did it matter what one of his fathers wanted? He was such a nag anyway. Let the kid have his fun, it’ll be fine! We’ll protect him if something happens. Kabru knew one day he would come to regret surrounding himself with lunatics. He had inadvertently given Pumori the burden of being his last line of defense against these people. Please! Give your Baba strength!
She was watching a butterfly in the window while she chewed her toast. He sighed.
“Then Laios, dearest, light of my life, how did you know our son went with them?”
He could forgive his son’s aunts. They were supposed to be rule breakers, he supposed. That was the point of being an aunt wasn’t it?
“Kabru, maybe we should…” Laios started.
“Don’t blame Dad, he wasn’t there. I told him you said it was fine,” he replied calmly.
Kabru pursed his lips.
“Well I’m certainly glad to hear your father didn’t try to crawl out of our window and break a hip for your little excursion to see slime and bat droppings,”
Lately, Kabru was more concerned with who would be found in the dungeons than what. The demon’s curse prevented Laios from getting close to any monsters, of course, but that couldn’t protect him from the fanatics that still frequented dungeons.
“We saw a kelpie, actually,” he corrected, not because he was trying to be irritating, but because he was trying to make sure Kabru was accurately irritated.
“Oh, even better,”
So they had traveled far enough that they saw more powerful monsters.
“We had Auntie’s protective magic. It was fine,” he said, shrugging.
Makalu was sitting with his legs crossed, staring at his cooling cup of tea. Since when did he like tea?
“This time it was,” Kabru said.
He knew he was being baited. He knew this argument would end like it always had. No matter what he said differently, he could never explain himself well enough. He didn’t expect Makalu to understand the breadth of his feelings or the full weight of his position yet, but unfortunately, he did not have the luxury of experimentation like other children. Makalu would only see Kabru as a warden of the most prestigious jail in the country until he was able to leave, and he had accepted that fact.
Most days, he felt like a cliche: the overbearing, anxious father forbidding his child to leave the castle walls in fear. Kabru wasn’t forbidding it, he just thought Makalu was too young, too ill prepared. Kabru was twenty the first time he went inside a dungeon and he still died! Multiple times! Makalu was only sixteen, and he was already under more pressure than Kabru ever was. Surely, he needed to take things slower, for his own development.
Makalu had been raised hearing stories of his father, how he saved humanity by eating the most selfish being in the world, by loving what was disgusting. “The Devourer of All Things Horrible” used to change his diapers. Why would he have anything to fear?
His “Auntie” Marcille was the court magician and one of the greatest ancient magic scholars of the era. She was a walking contradiction, a total rejection of traditionalism, yet she was fascinated with everything that came before her, and dedicated to extending the lives of everyone she loved. Why did he have to follow any of the rules? She broke international law, and she was sort of world renowned for it.
He heard of Falin’s travels across the great continents- how she refused money from the royal treasury and paved her own way by performing exorcisms, living in bunk beds and the kindness of others. Oh yeah, had we mentioned that she was 15% dragon?
Then there was his boring old Baba. One of his son’s favorite pastimes was to tease Kabru for his early “obsession” with Laios and was absolutely convinced he had loved him since the first time they met. Makalu’s ambivalence towards politics fueled this assumption and because Kabru preferred to downplay his own political involvement, Makalu was sure Laios was just being nice when he said it actually was thanks to Kabru that Melini remained prosperous.
Surely, it was easier to imagine him as a lovestruck idiot than someone who would do anything to protect humanity. Makalu could understand Kabru’s love for his father, heavy with life and tangible, but never for the nameless ideas of people he would never meet or care for directly.
But Makalu wasn’t there when Kabru thought Laios was a threat to humanity. He wasn’t there when Laios put the fate of millions on the line to save his only sister, to save his friends. While his actions were understandable, they were reckless. Makalu wasn’t there when the world itself was almost swallowed whole. He also wasn’t there when Utaya was destroyed.
Sure, Makalu had been told the story, the real story, not the one that would be written in historical texts, but it was still just a story to him. He asked questions about it like one would characters in a play, which Kabru supposed he was also guilty of, but he digressed.
The boy couldn’t help it, he knew. In fact he never wanted Makalu to suffer like he had. He supposed that was the most frustrating aspect in all of this, how much he empathized with what Makalu wanted. He felt his yearning, but could not give into it. At least, not yet.
“When was the last time you even went to a dungeon? They aren’t as bad as they used to be. It’s not like I went alone, anyway,” he sighed, like he was he was the exasperated parent explaining himself to a child.
“You snuck in behind them?”
Had he used an illusion?
“They would have invited me, if it weren’t for you always bossing everyone around”
He heard the anger building through the cool unaffected tone of Makalu’s voice after Kabru ignored his question.
Makalu’s words didn’t hurt him, not really. His anger didn’t scare him either, it was developmentally normal. Nothing he was saying was particularly shocking for a boy his age. Kabru had endured worse, and he suspected when she could speak, Pumori would have no problem sharing her thoughts either.
It was impressive what he did, really. From a completely objective standpoint. If only he had funneled this energy into something productive.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,”
He could see how much his professional tone of voice annoyed Makalu, but what was the alternative? When had their communication become so stilted? How was it that Kabru spoke several languages, but none that Makalu understood?
Makalu knew Laios wasn’t the best at communicating, but it never seemed to harm their relationship. In fact, Makalu seemed to understand Laios intrinsically, much like Falin did, and more than anything he understood how fiercely Laios loved living. Kabru knew it too. He saw that everlasting hunger in his eyes everyday, in the fields with farmers, in the castle kitchens, in every letter he pressed his seal into, and every kiss he laid upon his skin.
Makalu had never been threatened with the loss of that love. That’s why, Kabru hypothesized, Makalu had been obsessed with death from a very early age.
When Izutsumi would bring him dead monsters, he took them apart immediately, just so he could put them back together. Laios often encouraged this, would quiz him, even. When one of their dogs broke his leg, he insisted on healing it naturally, with a splint he made himself. He made his first taxidermy mouse when he was 9. His walls were covered in jarred animal parts, some translucent and dyed so that you were able to see each bone. He collected insects too, and he had a whole laboratory dedicated to his endeavors.
Could you imagine having your 10 year old ask you for formaldehyde for his birthday? Could you imagine actually saying yes?
When he was 12, Makalu would beg everyone who had been in the Island’s dungeon to tell him what it felt like to die. He was always disappointed when he got the same answer: they only remember waking up.
They never told Makalu about the hired rogues who came very close to killing Laios 7 years ago. At the time, he didn’t want it to frighten him, but now Kabru feared it made them seem invincible. No matter how many times he told him that they don’t have the same resurrection magic like they used to, Makalu argued that Marcille could do anything.
Makalu also hated combat- whenever Kabru tried to train him he refused, preferring anyone else in the castle to teach him. Kabru was always too technical, he said. He was scary when they spared, he said. Kabru pretended like it didn’t bother him, but it did. He had hoped to pass some sort of wisdom onto him, and he was beginning to feel like he had failed to prepare him for the world he would inherit.
Kabru sighed. He could tell Makalu was waiting for him to respond, to get angrier with each passing word.
“Baba just wants you to be safe, Makalu,” Laios said. “Dungeons are very dangerous, and you don’t have a lot of experience,”
“But you don’t even agree with him. I know you don’t. Everyone is just too scared to say anything,”
It was almost cute that Makalu thought Kabru had this much power over the other three. If that were the case, this country would run a lot smoother.
Then there was a loud clatter next to them, and they turned to see that Pumori had thrown her plate on the floor, it was wooden, thankfully. Kabru turned to pick it up.
“What happened?” he asked her, “What did that plate do to you, hm?”
Makalu huffed in frustration. He loved his little sister, but Kabru could see vestiges of jealousy in him. He was older and a more complicated person now, his mistakes could no longer always be met with kind laughter. He craved the hand holding while simultaneously despising it, Kabru guessed.
“See? He’s ignoring me because he knows I’m right. He always has to have his way. You always have to do as he says. You guys are so spineless around him,”
Kabru turned back to him, pointedly unfazed.
“Forgive me for wanting to have a more productive conversation,” he said, and he felt an instant pang of regret in his chest. He was being catty now. It was a bad example.
Before Makalu could spit anything back, Falin spoke up.
“Makalu? Can I talk to you outside for a moment?”
“Oh, sure yeah. Make it quick though,” he remarked sarcastically, “I wouldn’t want to scare Baba by being out of his sight for longer than 10 minutes.”
Laios glanced at Kabru, and he felt another wave of irritation.
“Makalu, go, please,” Laios said, voice stern.
“I am,” he huffed back, standing up and nearly knocking the chair over.
“We won’t be long,” she said.
He followed her out of the dining room.
He could feel Laios hovering behind him, and Marcille itching to say something.
“Just spit it out,” Kabru blanched.
Pumori opened her mouth, empty now, thankfully.
“No, not you,” he laughed “Them,”
“I’m sorry, Kabru. I was just so distracted with the samples we collected yesterday and everything just happened so quickly. It’s just that deadline we set, it’s coming faster than I originally- I should have sent him back, I know, it’s just- It’s so hard to say no to him and he gets so excited I-,” she could hardly finish one sentence before beginning another.
Kabru continued feeding Pumori. She was a quiet baby, except when she needed something. He worried about her language aquisition a lot, so he spoke to her and read to her often. Laios told him not to worry, that both him and Falin had been quiet babies too. That was somehow not very reassuring since she was three and a half now, and very little came out of her. Makalu had been a babbler. It was funny how quiet he was now, because he had been able to articulate entire sentences since he was one, which they all thought was extraordinary.
“It’s quite alright, Marcille,” Kabru said. There was no use in getting angry with her. She had always been one of his closest allies in this. She agreed that Makalu was too young, despite how easily magic came to him. Makalu, like his father, knew exactly what to pull to get his way, unfortunately, and Marcille was quite attached to him.
His king, he knew, was a different story all together. He had always been a complicated man, complicated more by the needs of his position and his base urges. Even if logic did penetrate, he found a way to get a taste of what he really wanted, consciously or not. He supposed that’s how they ended up having children together, despite how unorthodox the whole thing had been. God forbid Yaad had been around to see how it all played out.
“Kabru,” he put his hand on his shoulder. Kabru had the urge to shrug it off, but he knew he couldn’t.
“Could you give us a minute?” he asked Marcille.
“Shouldn’t we all talk about this?” she said.
Much like Kabru himself, she wanted to be involved in everything. He usually liked this about her, but the occasions in which they found themselves with adversarial points of view, their conversations quickly became explosive. Falin was often a skillful intermediary, Laios a very clumsy one.
“I think it would be best if you went to attend your duties at this time, Marcille,” Kabru responded, resolute in his politeness.
“Kabru, I’ll make it up to you, really. It was never my intention to keep a secret like that. I was just… finding the right way to tell you,”
Laios was quiet, paralyzed even. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why had he kept their lie?
“Marcille, I really think it would be best if you went to attend your duties at this time,” Kabru repeated through gritted teeth.
“Fine,” she said finally. She nearly slammed the door as she left. The loud noise made Pumori jump. Her face crinkled, the telltale sign she would begin to cry.
“Oh… honey,” Laios said to her soothingly. She began crying with not quite as much gusto as she was capable of, but enough. He tried taking her out of her chair but she protested, trying to squirm out of his grasp. Kabru brought his chair to her so that they could be eye to eye.
“Oh, you’re okay,” he said to her. She looked at him as she continued to wail. He offered his hands for her to hold on to. She grabbed them and squeezed.
“It was just the door. You’ll be okay,” he said. Once her cries had calmed down a bit, she let go of his hands in favor of reaching her arms out to him, asking to be held. He couldn’t lie, he was so pleased, especially after… that disagreement. He felt Laios wearing the rejection next to him like a shroud, and he couldn’t help but feel avenged. So you were listening to Baba earlier, clever girl!
“You know, it doesn’t feel good to be undermined like this,” Kabru said as he rubbed Pumori’s back.
“I’m not trying to undermine you. I’m sorry,” Laios glanced at the ground.
“We disagree. I know that. I’m sorry for making you humor me this long,”
“It’s not like that. I just think that this isn’t going to go away. I hate seeing you two at eachothers throats,”
“Sometimes the right decision is worth the fight,”
Laios sighed. He often got frustrated when it sounded like Kabru was talking strategy when it came to their children, that everything could be carefully planned and executed. Kabru wasn’t naiive enough to think that, so the assumption irritated him.
“Um, Kabru… Can you put her down for a minute?”
Alright, here it comes. He’s going to say something like “There’s no angle to this, Kabru.” Or he’ll say “This is our son, not some dwarven lord.”
He sighed, honoring his request by placing her back in her chair. She discovered her forgotten strawberries right away, happy to refuel after exhausting her energy.
“You’re hurt,” Laios said, plainly, like you might point out someone’s shoe was unlaced.
What? He looked down, expecting to see blood or broken skin. All he saw was Laios kneeling before him, hands on his thighs.
“I see it. Plain as day. You’re walking around, bleeding out, pretending like you aren’t. It makes me sad,”
Kabru swallowed, trying to understand what he meant. Sometimes it felt like a riddle, overly cryptic and beautifully simplistic.
“You’re bearing your teeth, hoping we won’t notice. Hoping that if you’re scary enough, the thing that’s trying to eat you will back off,”
Laios took his hands in his.
“Where does it hurt? Let me take care of you,”
Kabru, feeling small and disarmed, put a single finger to his chest.
A heavy knock sounded at the door. Laios looked at Kabru desperately before tearing his gaze away. While they had made it very clear early on that the king would take his meals in private, interruptions weren’t uncommon.
Drawing the boundary between public and private life remained fraught in every other aspect, but at least their dining room was sacred. There was nothing he hated more than being pulled away during a family meal, and especially now, during such an intimate conversation.
He kissed the back of Kabru’s hands before standing. Kabru wanted to respond, but he felt no words coming to him. He saw real anger on his face for a moment, not directed at him, but a storm brewing inward.
Hurt? Bleeding out? Baring his teeth? What the hell was he talking about?
Laios stepped outside for a moment. He should follow him, see what the problem was. Was it the architects from Kakha Brud? Was it the archival restoration project managers? Had they received their next batch of agricultural survey results? Instead he watched Pumori stare at the door he had just walked through. Then, at their abandoned breakfast. What was Falin talking to Makalu about? The curiosity ate at him.
When Laios returned, he looked even more anguished, and Kabru stood up.
“What is it?”
“Oh, it’s… well. There are more reports coming in about roots rotting in the soil in the Southern quarter,”
“The treatment didn’t take?”
Laios rubbed the back of his head.
“So far, not really. It’s not too late in the season to keep planting though, so not all is lost, yet. We have the samples Marcille collected to test, too,”
“I see,” Kabru said, his hand going to his chin.
“But, Kabru, I,” his face was contorted in frustration.
“You should go. Look over the reports. I can clear your schedule. You should go see for yourself. Take Marcille and the other agricultural stewards. I trust your judgment,”
“But Kabru, shouldn’t we talk about this?” he put his hands on his shoulders.
“We’ll have time for it later. This is more important,” Kabru rested his hand on his.
“Okay. Just, come find me at lunch. Please,” Laios pleaded.
Kabru nodded, and he wanted to smile, he knew he should have, but couldn’t.
“Okay. I will,” he nodded.
Laios made a face like he wanted to speak, but then another knock sounded at the door. He closed his eyes and huffed.
“I would go with you, but I can’t blow off the Kahka Brud architects any more. I might start a war if I do,”
Laios pecked him on the lips before turning. On his way out he leaned over to kiss Pumori on the forehead.
“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he said to her.
Kabru sat silently for a few moments before Pumori started fussing, looking suspiciously like she was about to throw her plate across the room again. His own breakfast went cold.