Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The prince always kept a close eye on his knights, but usually not when they could tell. He tried to be transparent about it at first -- he didn’t want to be a fucking creep -- but then most of them became so stiff and awkward in his presence that it ruined the whole point. He then watched from windows when he could or would schedule his meetings within view of their marches or training sessions, but not close enough for them to pay him any mind.

Some days that wasn’t enough for his purposes, however.

Today he was hidden up among the ceiling beams in the stable, where his knights were brushing down their horses and generally relaxing. He was particularly focused on one, a knight with shockingly blonde hair and bright red eyes, who was tending to his reddish brown horse while talking with another knight, somehow both keeping to his duty and gesticulating wildly. The other knight, a short stocky man with a mess of black hair, wore an expression that was struggling between amusement and annoyance, arms crossed, brush forgotten in hand, and a deep grey horse standing a few paces behind him.

The prince watched, doing his best to read lips to little avail, and then his view was completely obscured by another knight moving her horse into the relatively spacious area near them, blocking his line of sight. The prince nimbly crawled across the beams to find a better spot and winced as one creaked below him. It was soft, so almost none of the knights heard him.

Almost.

Red eyes quickly locked with the prince’s orange, then broke away to see if his conversational partner noticed, then focused back on the prince, who watched as dark red gears formed and spun in the knight’s irises and then everything around them stopped.

They stared at each other for a few moments, then the knight shook his head sharply and gestured toward the exit. The prince’s brow creased as he hesitated, then complied, shivering as time started again as soon as he was out of sight of the stables.

The prince goes back to watching the knights in an official capacity. He got deep frowns from the red eyed knight, but no more magic intervention, so he doesn’t stop. What surprised him was the deeper pair of red eyes watching him with disdain. The short knight who had been talking to the prince’s target of interest before, the knight who had been the most nervous, the most eager to please when he was around, now glared at him with open distrust like no one had ever dared to before. The pair of knights were almost constantly together, and the short knight had taken a habit of obscuring the prince’s view of the other any chance he was able to.

This gave the prince an idea.

There was a murmur through the waiting crowd, curious as to why they were summoned to an impromptu Court. Certainly such things were not unknown from the king and queen, but as of yet unheard of from their son. The knights shifted uncomfortably in the back, used to only being invited for more ceremonial events than a meeting of advisors and nobles. The knight with red eyes had a reassuring hand on his scowling friend’s shoulder, then gripped it tightly as he caught the sight of a shock of bright blue in the crowd. The scowling knight snickered before being hushed by his tense siblings-in-arms.

Then everyone stilled as the prince made his way up the several stairs of the dias and onto the small, but still regal, throne. He sat casually, elbows resting on the arms of the throne and one heel on a decorative edge of the legs. But his eyes were, as always, attentive if not piercing. Knowing if not unnerving. He waited a few breaths, then gestured for the herald waiting in the wings up onto the dais. The herald made it to the second step before stopping, looked nervously to the prince, who nodded, then he unrolled the scroll he was holding and spoke.

“His royal highness, Prince Diederik, Lord of the Bilious Plains, Founder of the Autonomous Guild, Conqueror of th--” The prince subtly twirled his fingers. The herald choked on a breath, coughed, then continued. “Has gathered you all to announce a tournament for his loyal knights and any noble that dare stand against them in celebration of the upcoming harvest season. Events include archery, armed and unarmed combat, and horseback racing. Those who prevail will be rewarded with gold and fame, with a yet unannounced prize for the one his highness deems as the most worthy of it. Registration for the events will be held in a fortnight. His highness looks forward to your participation.” The herald rolled his scroll back up, then gestured to his right and said, “Please proceed to the dining hall for a small meal as a thanks for your attendance where a representative will be available to answer any questions. You are dismissed.” He then bowed to the prince, who nodded back, then to the court, then leaves, opposite from where he gestured.

The prince watched, still and silent, as his court and knights shuffled out of the reception hall, a rumble of voices growing louder as they went. A pair of dark red eyes judged him silently, then refocused on his friend who was moving quickly, if erratically, through the crowd of nobles. The prince watched the pair until they disappeared from view and the hall emptied, then followed his herald out, gesturing to a waiting scribe to leave with him.

He had a lot of preparations to make.

Chapter Text

Prince Diederik was rarely seen outside the castle as the day of registration approached. He was mostly cloistered in rooms with treasurers, artisans, chefs, and a whole host of other people, waving off his hovering advisors insisting they could take care of things.

Of note to the pair of red eyed knights was how often their captain was meeting with the prince, but when pressed, she just flashed her too sharp grin and said, "Just wait," much to the excited curiosity of most of her knights but to the wary displeasure of the two inquiring.

Soon enough, it was time for everyone to regather and sign up for their desired competitions. Once again the nobles gathered, conversations abuzz with anticipation.

The buzz fell to a whisper then to silence as Prince Diederik arrived, followed by a flock of advisors, a herald, a scribe, and two servants carrying a long table on which the scribe placed several sheets of parchment, quills, and ink. The prince sat on his throne, more truly casual than the deliberateness with which he usually appeared so, his eyes just barely tinged with weariness. When everything was settled, his herald looked to him, then at his nod ascended two steps if the dais and said, "His highness, Prince Diederik, Lord of the--" The herald paused, glanced at his liege who simply watched him, then continued, "Lord of the Bilious Plains welcomes you all back and thanks you for your eagerness to participate in his tournament. When you are called forward, simply sign your name or stamp your crest on each sheet for the events you want to participate in. Since some of the events are limited, his highness would like to first introduce you to his knights and give them first pick of events." He focused on a figure at the entrance to the hall on the far side from the dais and said, "Captain Pyrope, at your leisure," then gave a small bow. The figure bowed back, then gave an ear splitting whistle. Servants on either side of the entrance opened the doors and cleared way for the troop of knights to march forward, single file, through the crowd of nobles then split off to either side of the dais once they reached it until they formed a line of about two dozen bodies in front of it. The herald frowned slightly as he took another step up the dais to keep the whole hall in view.

Captain Pyrope stood in front of her charges, grinning widely as she bowed to the prince, then faced the crowd of nobles.

"Knights of the Kingdom of Skaia!" She called out.

"Skaia is the kingdom we defend!" her knights called back.

"To whom have you sworn loyalty?"

"We swear our loyalty to our prince! Long may he serve the people!"

"To whom do you offer your lives?"

"We live and die for those who need us! The helpless! The innocent! The citizens of Skaia!"

"Today is not so dire, my brethren! Today you are to be recognized! State your name and the competition in which you will show why you are the best of the best, worthy above all others to protect your prince!" She turns and nods to the knight at the far right, who sounds off.

Prince Diederik barely pays him any mind, nor the next few knights until--

"Dave Strider. Armed combat and horseback racing." His voice is even and his words are quick and the prince is expressionless as he filed the information away. Then he turns his attention to the next knight.

"Karkat Vantas, and I respectfully decline his Majesty's generous offer of reward and will instead focus on protecting the civilians watching the tournament while my comrades are otherwise occupied." There was a bite in his voice, undermining his polite wording, and the prince had to hide a smirk behind his hand. Strider was shaking slightly then tensed as their captain rounded swiftly on Vantas, a growl in her voice as she snapped, "Your request is noted but participation is not optional." She looked to the herald for confirmation, who in turn looked to Prince Diederik, clearly out of his depth, who nodded, using the gesture as an excuse to hide more of his mouth.

The herald cleared his throat. "There will, ah, be alternate sources for security during the festivities, though his highness appreciates your dedication to your duty." He glanced back at the prince, who gave him a thumbs up, his other hand now practically covering the entirety of the lower half of his face. He knew he wasn't being subtle, but it was good for his court and his captain to understand his amusement and not look too harshly on the knight.

Vantas stiffened, then reclined his head to his captain. "If that is how his majesty wishes to utilize my training, then I am honored to comply." Captain Pyrope frowned deeply, but didn't say anything further.

"Your, ah, chosen events, Sir Vantas?" The herald prompted.

"Armed and unarmed combat," came the short reply.

There was a moment of awkward silence, then the captain gestured for the next knight in line to continue.

Prince Diederik let his mind wander, the rest of the proceedings holding little interest to him. He passively watched as the last of the knights announced their names and intentions, nodded when they turned and bowed to him before leaving, and ignored the bustle of nobles rushing up to the table once the herald announced it was time for them to sign up. He was far, far too preoccupied with a pair of deep, burning red eyes.

Chapter Text

The tournament was set two months from the date of registration, and the castle and small city surrounding it was filled to the brim with anxious excitement. Everyone was quickly piecing together their best wardrobes or fine tuning their recipes or building structures or honing their training or any number of things to get ready. And Prince Diederik was right alongside them. In contrast to the last two months where he barely left the castle, in these two months he was barely on its grounds, busy personally overseeing preparations with a hoard of advisors following behind. But it wasn't just advisors he had to brush off, the city's nobles were also always right on his heels, one particular noble more than the others. 

The prince was overseeing the repairs of an old grandstand while also discussing a proposed menu with a member of the baker's guild, but his attention was repeatedly dragged to a nervous, if rather handsome (and sweaty) noble who had been staring at him unblinkingly for the past hour with no real attempt to approach him. The noble had also appeared at just about every site the prince had attended the past week with the same result. The prince refocused his attention on the baker and wrapped up the last of the preparations, sending him over to one of the treasurer's assistants to work out payment. Then he turned his full attention to the awaiting noble and approached, watching with mild amusement as he got more nervous and sweaty as he did so. He seemed to be struggling between standing straight to show respect and slouching to not be too much taller than his liege and ended up settling into an odd half shoulder slouch and a crooked grin as he dabbed at his face with a damp handkerchief.

Fuck, this had gone past annoying to very amusing and was quickly making its way toward endearing.

Prince Diederik easily schooled his expression, however, and merely waited as the noble excitedly attempted introduced himself, "Your majesty! Thank you for taking time out of your day to lower yourself to speak with me. I look forward to the upcoming show of strength you have announced. But forgive me! I have not introduced myself, how shameful for someone of my station. Please, if you feel the need to make an example of me for such deplorable manners, I will not resist. In fact it is your duty as ruler of this land to do so and I quite insist you discipline me immediately."

Oh yes this definitely took a nosedive into endearing. "You still haven't introduced yourself," is all the prince said in reply.

The expression "all color drained from his face" was one the prince had assumed to be extreme hyperbole until this moment. The noble bowed deeply. "I am Equius of the Zahhak house, majesty."

The prince inclined his head. "Ah, yes. The horse breeders. My knights get their steeds from you."

Lord Equius looked up in pleased shock, "You know of us!"

"Of course I do. Is it not my duty as ruler to keep track of my most loyal subjects and their contributions?"

"Of course your majesty! Forgive me for implying otherwise. That is most unworthy of me. I insist you punish me appropriately for my many transgressions."

The prince waves a dismissive hand. "How can I help you, Lord Equius?"

The noble straightened back into his awkward half slouch. "I would never be so presumptuous as to ask for your assistance. I merely wish to be prepared if you need any of mine."

The prince considered this. "What would I need your assistance for?"

Lord Equius balked. "Forgive me! Assuming you would need my help is an even greater crime!  Tell me how I may find atonement for this grievous misstep and I will rectify it immediately."

As tempted as he was to continue teasing the poor noble, Prince Diederik said, "Think nothing of it. Would you like to oversee the set up for the horseback racing trail? I planned on looking over it tomorrow morning, but more pressing matters have arisen, and it is your area of expertise." The prince had, in fact, reviewed the track and made sure it was to his liking the previous week, but having someone well versed in horses double check the safety standards certainly wouldn't hurt.

Not to mention a reemergence of Lord Equius's smile was worth something . "Yes, of course, I would be honored, your majesty. Thank you! Thank you." The noble patted the handkerchief over his forehead furiously as he bowed and rushed off to get started on his task.

Speaking of tasks, as pleasant as a distraction as it was, it still was a distraction and the prince had much left to do. He called over the foreman and had her walk him through what repairs had been done so far and the timeline for what was left, and any improvements she thought would be appropriate, his mind already planning out what progress he expected from his next stop.

The knights had their own preparations underway, taking more scouting trips on the roads around the city with the steady influx of citizens, more and larger groups arriving with each passing week. Any free time they had was spent training, Captain Pyrope made sure of it, but she honestly didn't need to give them the extra motivation. The tournament was for them to show off and by the gods they were going to do it. Especially fervent was Sir Vantas, who the captain had to tell to stop training and remember rest was just as important. Sir Strider, though ever present at Vantas's side, did not seem to share his enthusiasm, doing just enough to keep his captain off of his back.

It was a little less than a month until the tournament, and Vantas was practicing unarmed combat against a dummy, while Strider watched, only getting up to stretch and swing his sword a few times when he noticed Captain Pyrope come toward them. As soon as she walked past, his swings grew lazier and once she was out of sight, he pointed the sword to the ground and rested on it like a short cane.

“If this is the best the kingdom has to offer, I have this tournament in the bag, I think,” said a high, gleeful voice. Strider and Vantas looked toward where it was coming from and spotted a man in almost garish bright blue outfit and wispy black hair riding on horseback toward them from the direction of the city. He caught Vantas’s deep frown and crossed arms and said, “Oh, ho! Nevermind then. You sure look burly enough. Good thing I didn’t sign up for combat, eh?” His grin did not falter as Vantas stared him down, and the knight eventually went back to his practice. The man on horseback rode up closer to Strider, who was frozen in place and tinged slightly red. “But you, sir knight, should you be leaning on your blade so?” His eyes, almost as bright blue as his clothes, glinted with amusement as said knight tried to casually straighten out of his slouch.

“It’s a training sword, dude. Can’t get much worse than it already is,” Strider replied.

“I was referring to you going into disuse rather than your sword,” the man laughed. “But again, doesn’t matter to me. I signed up for archery and the race, and even if you were as earnest as your comrade in your training, you would have no chance of winning either.”

Strider stretched and cocked his head. “That so? I suppose we’ll have to see how much you’re bluffing when I beat you in the race.”

The man laughed again. “Big words from someone who would rather use his sword as an armrest than a weapon. I wonder if you would know to ride astride your horse or simply attach a sled to it so you could recline in that task as well?”

“Alright fucker, that’s enough.” Vantas had turned from his training dummy and strode over to the man. “Is there a reason you’re here harassing his majesty’s knights? Just because you’re a--”

“Lord Egbert, there you are!” Another, sweatier, bulkier man strode up on his own rather large horse.

Lord Egbert twisted toward the man. “Equius! I was wondering how long you’d be. Did their upkeep meet your expectations?”

“They were… adequate…” Lord Zahhak said begrudgingly. “Are you finished consorting with the commoners?”

“Aw, be nice, Eq! They’re the best of the best, so dear Dirk-y boy says! Whether I believe it or not is another story,” Egbert says, winking at Strider, causing both Zahak and Strider to flush.

“Please speak of our liege more properly! I will not stand for any disrespect.” Zahhak’s horse shifted, mirroring its rider’s anxiety.

“Fine, fine. But now that you’re free, we best be off to the inspections you were actually supposed to be doing.”

“Agreed. How shameful to let myself be distracted so.”

Lord Egbert gave a mock salute to the knights. “See you at the tournament!” Then the nobles strode off toward the event site.

Vantas watched his friend stare after the retreating horses. “God you have the worst taste.”

Strider swung a half hearted fist at Vantas, who easily dodged it. “Shut the fuck up you dick.”

Captain Pyrope was pleased one of her usual top knights had finally stepped into gear, almost rivaling Vantas with his dedication to late training, seemingly trying to catch up for lost time.

Prince Diederik rubbed his eyes as he looked over the latest reports from all the various guilds and nobles and advisors. Everything was going as it should. The tournament would work, both as the celebration it was being touted as and for his own plans. He reorganized the papers and made his way to his chambers, returning to them before the sun had fully set for the first time in two months.

This would work and maybe then he could finally rest.

Chapter Text

The week of the tournament had finally arrived. Well, to be precise, the actual tournament was only three days and there were two days before and after for relaxation and celebration with vendors rotating to make sure everyone was able to participate if they wished. The vendors and artisans and entertainers were mostly grouped together by guild, and a representative was always on staff at least one location to give information, recruit, and make sure everything was up to par both from their members and from the event and, in turn, the one who was overseeing it.

"Prince Diederik!" a woman clad in a light blue outfit, a red apron, and flour called as she stomped up to where he and a group of servants had gathered early on the morning of the first day of the festival. The servants took one look at her, bowed quickly to the prince with muttered apologies, and scurried off.

"Master Crocker. How may I be of service?"

“You can start by telling me why you changed the location of my bakers at the last second, giving the meat vendors the more localized spot. And the schedule! Did you really need to take that over? My staff are fully capable of understanding where they are needed and when and you clearly…"

The rant continued for several minutes, the prince nodding agreeably and looking rather relaxed while nobles, servants, and some of the other guild leaders looked on. It was a mystery to some why the prince put up with such abuse from someone with no true title or land to their name, but to others it was obvious. What was a kingdom when their workers refused to work? And what was a guild leader but someone who decided exactly how much said workers would contribute? Master Crocker and several of the other guild leaders recognized this and used it to their and their members' advantages, making sure they always got what was fair both in pay and working conditions, and to root out the prince's habit of unneeded meddling. Prince Diederik was also keenly aware of this and did little to resist admonishments and conceded when he felt it was fair, which it usually was.

“...and why are there no coverings for any of the stalls? What if it rains?” Master Crocker continued.

“It won’t rain,” the prince said.

“Do you control the weather now? If it is like you control anything else, I suppose I’ll have to go fix that, too!”

“It won’t rain,” said another voice, coming up behind the guild leader and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Crocker whirled around, ready to give a similar tongue lashing to the newcomer, then broke into a smile and bowed. “Seer! Come to keep his highness in line, then?”

The seer, a short woman with blazing purple eyes speckled with glowing yellow rays and clad in a deep orange robe, quirked her lip into a smile and said, “I was rather hoping to relax, having just returned home after being away for so long, but if I must to keep you from staging a coup, Jane, dearest, then I will do what I can.”

The prince snorted and Master Crocker flushed lightly. “His highness knows I would never dream-- I hold him in the highest respects-- I simply--”

“Keep him in check,” the seer finished, amused.

“I am pleased to hear you will not be literally calling for my head, Master Crocker. I was getting worried there for a moment.”

Crocker shot him a glare. “I have the utmost respect for his highness and only a fool would suggest otherwise.”

Prince Diederik’s eyes crinkled with a hint of a smile. “Of course.”

The seer looped an arm through the prince’s and said, “Now, dear cousin, if you are done antagonizing your loyal subjects, I believe we have much to discuss before the festivities begin.” She turned to Crocker and inclined her head, “Good day, Master Crocker,” then tugged the prince along with her toward a quieter part of the field.

Once they were out of earshot, the prince said, “Thanks for the help, and I’m glad to see you, but I don’t have time to talk, Rose, there’s a lot that needs to be done before we start.”

“And they can do it without you, Dirk. They’re good at their jobs and would be a lot better without you hovering.”

Dirk frowned.

Rose sighed lightly and smiled. “Come now, surely you wouldn’t deny me a chat after I’ve been gone for so many months. Haven’t you missed me?”

Dirk smirked and ruffled her hair affectionately, though she was neither much shorter or younger than him. “Fine. Guilt me into it. Let’s go talk.”

It was early evening and the knights had to once again introduce themselves at the opening ceremony, now to the attending civilians, and Karkat was not happy with it. He eyed the hired security with suspicion, and complained heavily about the whole affair to his closest friend.

“Dude,” Dave said, cutting off a rant before yet another could begin, “we get a week off of our normal duties, only have to actually do anything for one day if we don’t win our first couple of rounds, and the rest of the time we get to fuck around and eat and watch some dipshits. What more could you possibly want?”

“ None of that ,” Karkat snapped back. He paused, then muttered, “He’s up to something.”

Dave sighed dramatically. “The prince? You’re still on about that?”

Karkat hushed him, glancing around to see if any of his fellow knights overheard as they waited for the ceremony to begin. “ Yes ,” he hissed. “And I know you think the same-- don’t try to fucking deny it, Strider. I can smell your bullshit from a mile away.”

Dave shrugged. “What his highness does is none of my business. I just do what I’m told. You shouldn’t bother with it either. It’s… not worth it.”

Something flickered across Dave’s face, but Karkat couldn’t even begin to figure out what it was. He opened his mouth to press further, when a trumpet sounded, announcing the festival was about to begin, so he just nodded and watched the prince’s herald walk onto the platform.

“His royal highness, Prince Diederik, Lord of the Bilious Plains, Founder of the Autonomous Guild, Conqueror of the Shade Ogres, Peacekeeper of the Dersite, and heir to the Skaian throne,” the herald began, “welcomes you to this celebration of the upcoming harvest, and invites you to enjoy the festivities and tournaments to come. He has generously provided a wide array of food and drink for you to enjoy and asks you to instead direct your coin to the many artisans showcasing their wares. But before you take part, some introductions.”

The troop of knights were called up on stage, and it went almost word for word as their first introduction did, just with Vantas begrudgingly listing his competitions rather than first trying to opt out of them. Next up was the nobles, which Karkat mostly ignored (except to jab Dave and snicker when Lord Egbert announced his intentions), and he ignored the guild leaders as they were introduced as well. Instead, he searched for the prince. Where was he? He had been so focused on pulling this all together, so why was he not here at the opening ceremonies? He barely noticed when the herald wrapped up (once again listing the prince’s numerous titles), until Dave nudged him and gestured through the parting crowd, toward some of the booths.

“Everyone’s going to food first thing, so wanna check out some of the other shit until it clears out?”

Karkat shrugged and followed his friend.

They first stopped at a booth staffed by a blonde woman with bright green eyes flecked with yellow sparks who was selling tomes and scrolls on history and a variety of other topics. Some of them glowed as the pair approached them, some more brightly than others. “Let’s you know what’s more relevant to you,” she explained. But Karkat was too off put by the display to purchase anything. Aspect wielders were always a bit… unnerving to him, especially for seemingly frivolous uses, and Dave seemed to agree, though they never actually spoke about it.

Nothing else immediately caught their eyes, though it seemed a good number of stalls were not yet open. They headed over to the food vendors and grabbed some minced meat hand pies from the bakers’ guild, Dave stuttering at the friendly plump woman in a red apron that winked at him before bustling off to serve other customers. Karkat rolled his eyes and dragged him away, muttering, “One pursuit at a time, Strider.”

Speaking of pursuits, though a wholly different kind, the prince’s lack of appearance nagged at the back of Karkat’s mind and his eyes endlessly searched the crowd. His majesty was normally uncomfortably involved in whatever grabbed his attention, which he had seemed to be in this festival more than most anything else before. And he was up to something, something to do with Dave. Karkat was sure of it and he didn’t like it one bit.

But Prince Diederik never made his appearance, and before too long Captain Pyrope strongly “suggested” that her knights leave so they could stay rested until it was time for their events, and so Karkat tried to ignore the twist he felt in his gut. Not like he would be able to change anything even if he could figure out what the prince’s real motivations were. Maybe it was best to just do what Dave said. Who was he to stick his nose in royal business?

Dirk had retired to the castle before the opening ceremony had begun, at Rose’s insistence, though she seemed almost as preoccupied as he was. At dinner, she told him stories of her visit to the Liminal Forest and the fey that reside within, so passively it seemed more like a second hand account than something she was actively involved in. There was something she was leaving out, but Dirk did not press it, more relieved that he didn’t seem to be needed to do more than just listen. They both retired early, but Dirk kept replaying the talk he had with Rose after she rescued him from Master Crocker.

“She really does respect you, you know,” Rose had said, sitting on one of the benches set up to watch the archery contest.

“Is this really what you wanted to talk about? The unearned respect between a citizen and their ruler?”

“Dirk--”

“Rose,” he said, a touch of warning (or weariness?) in his voice.

“Dirk,” she said a little more fiercely.

They stared each other down for a moment, but he broke first and she sighed.

“Why are you doing this?” Rose asked.

“I need to make sure he’s okay, and I--” Dirk pinched the bridge of his nose. Rose patted the seat next to her and he complied. “I have a plan that will let me keep an eye on him while still respecting his boundaries.”

“Dirk… Are you sure that’s what you’re doing? That’s what he’ll think of the result?”

Dirks lips pressed into a thin line and he didn’t respond.

Rose wrapped an arm around his middle and rested her head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to keep doing this to yourself,” she said.

Dirk stared at his hands as he flexed them, clenching and unclenching, and he did not respond.

Rose had dropped the subject, and they had called for a carriage to take them back to the castle not long after.

But this would work. Vantas was his missing link. This would work.

Chapter Text

It was the third day of the tournament and Karkat was pacing anxiously next to Dave, who was saddling his horse. In order to keep the horses safe, the races had been split into three groups of nine and the first three to finish each race would move on to the finals on the fifth day of the tournament. Dave just happened to be in the first race

“Are you still thinking about what that seer said yesterday?” Dave asked, sighing.

“Of fucking course, Dave! What did she mean about my path diverging?”

“I think she was saying everyone has diverging paths, not just you.”

“Okay, what about when she said the fate of the motherfucking kingdom rested with me?”

“You’re a knight. Duh.”

“Well, what about--”

Dave turned and slapped his hands on the frantic knight’s shoulders. “Dude, stop. For one thing, are we even sure she was legit? She fucking licked your hand and said it was necessary to divine you future I mean, c’mon.”

“ Her eyes glowed, Dave .”

“For two,” he continued, ignoring the interruption, “you’re just obsessing over what she said about your love life while also pretending you aren’t a gigantic romantic sap.”

Karkat flushed a deep red and wrested his way from under his friends’ hands. “Shut up you absolute dickbag as though that’s something I would even care about fucking streetside seers grabbing random passerby fucking scammed me out of a silver,” he grumbled.

Dave just shook his head. “Whatever, dude. Anyway, you want to hit up that pie stand again once my race is done?”

“As though you won’t be rushing off to go watch the archers as soon as you’re done,” Karkat said, rolling his eyes.

“Nah, John isn’t in the first set of--” He stopped, face beet red and turned to Karkat who was grinning maliciously. “Don’t. You. Fucking. Say. Anything.”

Before Karkat got a chance to say something anyway, the trumpet sounded, announcing it was time for those selected to take part in the first race to line up and Dave quickly clambered onto his horse and practically galloped off to the starting line. Karkat shook his head, then turned to pick out a seat, but only got a few paces when murmurs ran through the crowd.

“Is that…?”

“He’s wearing their sigil, must be.”

“But what of the masked man?”

“A minor noble? But why hide his face?”

Karkat turned back to the field. Among the lineup of nobles he recognized from court was a man in a blindingly yellow tight fitting outfit marked with the yellow moon of the Prospit half of the Dersite-Prospit Confederation. He scanned the crowd, but didn’t see signs of anyone else that might be with him. The other man was dressed in a simple grey-ish blue tunic and pants, with a cloth mask of the same color covering the top half of his face. They both seemed relaxed and chatted amicably with the other riders, most of them Karkat’s fellow knights, who seemed to quickly be getting over their hesitation to engage back. Karkat noticed Dave remained a touch uncomfortable.

The murmurs quieted but did not entirely cease as a servant unrolled a scroll to call out the participants. The man in blue waved when “Rufioh Invocador” was announced, a name that didn’t click with any noble houses Karkat was aware of, nor anyone else from the sound of it, and when “Jake English” was called out, the Prospitian saluted cheerily in the direction of raised, enclosed stand off to the side of the rows of benches. Karkat could see his majesty within, the first time he’d seen him since the festival began two days ago, but not his expression or any acknowledgement he might have given in response.

Karkat didn’t know all the details, but he knew what most everyone did: A bit over five years ago, Skaia got involved in the Prospit/Dersite war, and his majesty had been absent for the better part of a year helping them write up treaties and forming the confederation they were known as today. He wasn’t sure why the prince was only called Peacekeeper of the Dersite, especially when this Prospitian seemed friendly enough with him, but it also had never interested him too terribly much to figure out. This just might have piqued his interest, though.

The names had finished being called, then the trumpet sounded and a flag was raised signalling the race’s start. Jake and Invocador were the first to pull ahead, but Strider wasn’t very far behind. Dirk tried to focus on him and only him, but his eyes kept slipping to Jake, watching as his horse navigated the slight slope the large u-trail took them on to keep them in sight of the audience.

Why was he here? The princes had sent missives that they’d be joining, but had given no word of anyone else entering the competitions. Who had allowed this and not told him? And why the hell did he want to come?

The man in blue posed similar questions, but Dirk had a fairly good idea what group he belonged to and was more curious what he and any others were up to than worried.

Dirk focused back on Strider, who was pulling ahead, almost neck and neck with Jake but still trailing behind Invocador.

What could Jake want and why was he brought along without Dirk knowing? The Prospitian prince wasn’t known for being very forthcoming, so he had doubts he’d find out anything useful from him.

This was stupid. He shouldn’t be overthinking this. It didn’t matter .

Strider was falling behind and Jake was catching up to Invocador as they entered the last leg of the race. It didn’t look like any of the other knights had any hope of catching up, and Dirk figured the race was pretty much in the bag, the exact order of the top three finishing not actually meaning much, just that they would qualify for the final race in two days. He hadn’t exactly planned on attending the archery competition, but with the two surprises here, he probably should.

1st Horseback Race Results:  Sir Dave Strider - Royal Knight of Skaia, Sir Jake English - Royal Knight of Prospit, Rufioh Invocador - Unknown Title or Fealty ⇒  moving on to final race on day five.

Dirk slipped out the side entrance and down the ladder and headed over to his booth to watch the archers, only to find Rose there ahead of him, who smiled and waved as he approached. Dirk eyed her warily as he sat next to her, idly watching the workers finish setting up.

“How did he do?” she asked.

“He made it to the finals.”

“Good.”

“Why are you here?”

Rose patted Dirk’s hand. “I feel I owe you some eventual explanation for this next surprise.”

Dirk frowned. “What did you do?”

“You’ll see.”

Dirk didn’t didn’t press it. He was more interested in something else. “Did you know he’d be here?”

“Dave?”

“No. Jake.”

“Oh. No, not exactly. I… I saw someone , but nothing stood out to me as important for my purposes so I failed to look in deeper. I’m sorry. I would have warned you had I known.” Rose squeezed his hand

“It’s fine, it’s been years. This shouldn’t even matter. I have more important things on my plate.”

“You’re allowed to still be hurt, Dirk.”

“I can’t afford to be distracted by petty things like this.”

“You’re just human, it’s fine,” Rose said, squeezing his hand again, but Dirk jerked it away, resisting the urge to move away a few paces because he knew people were watching. They always were.

“ I can’t afford to be human! ” he hissed. Then he sighed and clenched his hands, trying to release the tension. His next words sounded calmer, but carried the same intensity, “The king and queen are gone. My brother is gone. I’m all that’s left.”

Rose pursed her lips. “You say that like you’ve accepted it, and yet you’ve--”

A trumpet sounded, announcing the start of the archery competition.

Rose tsked and said, “We’ll speak of this later.”

Dirk nodded non committedly, staring straight ahead.

There was enough room for four pairs to compete at once, which they were only doing to get the preliminaries out of the way more quickly. The first eight took their positions, two nobles and four knights Dirk didn’t really care about, Lord Zahhak, and… The prince from Derse. Eridan Ampora, who was looking down his nose at the knight he was paired with.

One blast of the trumpet for everyone to raise their bows, another to begin firing. Three arrows in the target and the points would be added up to determine who moved on to quarter finals.

The prince couldn’t stop himself from snorting as Lord Zahhak required a new bow between each firing, as he broke the bow each time. Somehow he still managed to do better than the noble against him, as he was cleared to move on to the next round, along with the Dersite prince, a noble (Lady Domi Carmia), and a knight (Sir Jandi Qar). The four of them bowed to Dirk and Rose (well, three of them, Prince Eridan just stared them down) and departed the field.

The next eight contestants took their places while servants rushed to remove the previous arrows. There were three nobles Dirk recognized, as well as two knights, a masked woman in deep blue whom he assumed was with the man from the race, a man bearing the sigil of Prospit sitting in a wheelchair, and a woman he definitely did not recognize who was so pale she practically glowed from beneath her heavy cloak. 

Dirk turned to Rose and raised an eyebrow. “Is that…?” he asked, but she just smiled lightly and nodded to the crowd. Da--Sir Strider was finding a seat, Vantas right behind him, both with steaming meat pies in hand. Vantas gestured to one of the nobles (Lord Egbert, whom Dirk found rather agreeable) and grinned as Strider swatted at him. Then he caught Dirk’s eye and his face turned stony. He tugged on Strider’s arm, who was about to sit down, and moved them to seats that were more obscured from the prince’s view. Dirk ignored the look his cousin was giving him, which was easy enough as the names of the participants were being announced.

The masked woman was called Roxy Strider-- a name that wouldn’t draw any suspicion, as Strider was a common last name for orphans or those otherwise without a family, but confirmed Dirk’s own about what group had infiltrated his tournament. Bold as brass as always. He looked to Rose, who seemed amused, then back to the rest of the contestants being announced. The man from Prospit was Tavros Nitram, a name he still couldn’t place from his time visiting the country. The cloaked woman was Kanaya Maryam, and though Dirk kept an eye on Rose as she was announced, she betrayed no emotion, so Dirk simply had to wait.

A trumpet blast to be ready (Nitram maneuvered his chair to be sideways so he could twist and give himself elbow room), a second to begin.

Maryam’s three arrows were drawn and shot almost before Dirk could process the first being pulled out of its quiver. The noble up against her dutifully finished her three shots, but it was clear her heart wasn’t in it after the first. Nitram and Roxy also did well, if a bit less impressively so, which Dirk was sure irked Roxy to no end. The last to win was Lord Egbert, who was shaking hands with the knight he defeated while craning his neck to look over the crowd.

The four winners bowed to Dirk and Rose and everyone began making their way off the field, either back to the grandstand to await the next event or to the vendors. Dirk looked to Rose for the promised explanation, but Rose shrugged.

“Looks like she didn’t want to show off too much yet.”

“ That wasn’t showing off?”

Rose smiled smugly, which is to say, Rose smiled. “You’ll see.”

1st Round of Archery Results: Lady Domi of house Carmia of Skaia, Lord Equius of house Zahhak of Skaia, Prince Eridan Ampora of Derse, Sir Jandi Qar - Royal Knight of Skaia,  Lord John of house Egbert of Skaia, Kanaya Maryam - Unknown Title or Fealty, Roxy Strider - Unknown or Fealty, and Sir Tavros Nitram - Royal Knight of Prospit ⇒ advance to the quarter finals.

Chapter Text

Karkat was pacing in the waiting area underneath the grandstand, as much as he could with how crowded it was with contestants, at least. His fellow knights looked at him with concern, but he waved them off, telling them to focus on doing a good job in their matches, and congratulating Jandi on making it to the archery quarter finals. Jandi hesitated, as though he wanted to say something more, then saw Dave approach, bowed lightly to Karkat, and left to sort out his own gear before the match. Karkat stopped his pacing, but still looked off. “We got some fuckin weirdos in these matches,” he muttered, glancing at the handful of strangers that speckled the room.

Dave nodded. “You’ll be fine.”

“I know, but--”

Dave shook his head sharply and Karkat shut his mouth. He was right. Now wasn’t the time to divulge his paranoia.

A trumpet sounded and the servant at the entrance to the stadium gestured for one of the knights and the cloaked woman from the archery match (Maryam?) to make their way out. As they did, the woman removed her cloak and draped it on one of the benches. She ran a hand through her hair, fixing it up, rolled her shoulders, and… Stretched. Her. Translucent. Butterfly wings. Almost everyone in the waiting area gaped as she smoothed down her shiny, scaly, rainbow-sheened armor then picked up her great axe and exited into the stadium, her still shocked opponent following automatically behind. Karkat barely noticed the gasp raise up from the audience outside, his attention now drawn to another mysterious entrance who was now shedding her own cloak.

“Finally! I was wondering if she was going to make us keep these on the whole time!” she said, voice almost sounding like a gurgle. Her own de-cloaking revealed pale pink fins on either side of her head, stretching from temple to collar bone and waving excitedly. She was wearing similar armor, but it shone with pinks and blues rather than the whole rainbow, and there were no wings protruding out the back.

“Who the fuck invited these fey freaks?” grumbled a voice from close to the exit of the grandstand. Everyone turned and then parted away from the two men. One was tall and gangly, though more striking was his bright green and red face paint, green and red diamonds over his eyes, green and red spirals on his cheeks like dimples, green and red stripes over his lips like thread. His companion was short and, well, not as built as Karkat, but not quite thin. It was the shorter one who had spoken, mouth twisted into a frown, the man with the painted face resting a hand on his shoulder. What was most of note was they were also both wearing jeweled bands around their foreheads, and the shorter one’s doublet bore the sigil of Derse and the taller one’s of Prospit. Everyone near them automatically took a few steps back, but the woman just smiled wide and sharp.

Karkat didn’t have time to ruminate on the basis of the prince’s rudely worded question, sure he hadn’t heard of any fey leaving the forests in decades, but the second trumpet sounded and he was shoved to the wall as everyone clustered to the door and meager slits of windows to try to see the fight outside.

Maryam was quick and light on her feet and practically danced to the knight on the other side of the stadium, axe held out lightly at her side.

The man braced himself, small leather shield and sword at the ready, but not quick enough to parry the blow that came from on high, reverberating through his armor. He used the momentum from the blow to roll back into a crouch and tried swiping at her shins, but she jumped over the sword like it was a child’s game.

She tossed her axe into her other hand and brought it down just above the elbow of the knight’s sword arm, forcing him to drop his weapon.

He rolled back again, abandoning his blade, and tried to stand, pushing back with his shield. The blows were coming more quickly, but he finally gained enough ground to push up from one knee. But he overstretched, and Maryam brought her axe to his hip and he dropped again then called, “I yield!”

Maryam froze, then lowered her axe and held out her arm to help the man up, throwing his arm around her shoulders to help him out of the stadium and to a waiting physician as the announcer declared her success.

Five minutes, and she had won. Karkat could feel the unease rolling off his fellow knights and he didn’t have the words to comfort them. He bit his lip in frustration as the other fey was the next up, but it was a noble paired with her this time. A noble whose face had gone pale, clearly having signed up for the chance of glory and bragging rights for going against the royal knights, not to face an unknown challenge spoken of in children’s bedtime stories.

Maybe that’s why, after their names were announced (the woman was apparently named Feferi Peixes) and the second trumpet’s sound, the match was over within seconds. A sweep to his legs from her polearm left him on the ground with that sharp smile gleaming down at him and he yielded. She seemed disappointed, but helped him off and followed him off the field, the announcer belatedly calling her victory once she had left.

That meant Dave was up next, with another noble who looked decidedly relieved. They were announced, the starting trumpet went off, and they stood there, staring each other down for a few seconds, a striking contrast to the instant ferocity of the two women before.

Dave’s sword was hanging loose at his side and stayed there as the noble approached. When she got too close, he began moving to the right, his body never turning from her.

She started moving quickly, dashing toward him, while he dashed back and around. She started to get impatient and lunged forward, her mace swinging out toward him.

Dave blocked it, using the movement of his sword to redirect her mace away from him, then sidestepped blindingly fast behind her as she fell forward from the sudden change in her mace. He swung out, flat of his blade smacking into her armored back and causing her to trip and fall.

She caught herself on her mace and a knee and used the mace to push herself up and swing it around in one full motion, but Dave dodged and again used his blade to smack her side and push her farther than she intended her momentum to take her. She didn’t fall this time, though, and whirled around, swinging wildly at Dave, face flushed.

Dave sidestepped and parried and lead her all around the field while she tried to keep up, her swings becoming more and more frantic.

“Fight me!” she finally cried, frustration seeping into her every move.

And Dave obliged. He dodged a blow, then traded with one of his own, hitting her shoulder blade, then spun and hit just below her ribs while she was recovering from the first.

She tried to swing back, but Dave smacked his blade into the inside of her elbow, forcing her arm to go wide and her grip to loosen. He swung again, sword connecting with her waist and causing her to double over and her mace to fly out of her hand. One last strike onto her shoulder brought her to her knees with his blade resting on her neck.

“I yield,” she panted.

Dave nodded and sheathed his sword and helped her off the ground. She limped out as his victory was declared and Dave followed close behind, shooting a quick thumbs up to the direction of the waiting combatants before he left.

“You’re smiling,” Rose observed.

“Is that not allowed?” Dirk asked.

“It’s encouraged, if unusual. But he is quite the show off, isn’t he?”

Dirk nodded. “I just hope he takes his next matches more seriously. Your fey were… something else.”

Rose snorted. “They’re not my fey, I simply asked if they would like to visit the kingdom and take part in some frivolities. There’s one more left, though I don’t think she elected to take part in this event.”

“Then I look forward to seeing in what unique way she makes a fool of my nobles and knights.”

Two knights walked out onto the field and were announced. Dirk perked up at the sight of Vantas, curious to see him in action outside of training.

“Ah, your other special knight’s time to shine. I wonder how he will fare,” Rose said lightly.

Dirk just grunted, watching as Sir Vantas immediately took to the offensive once the trumpet sounded, swinging low with his falchion.

“Why does he interest you so much?”

“Why did you search out the fey and bring some back with you and enter them into my tournament?” Dirk countered.

Rose frowned, but did not respond.

Vantas’s energy was much more like the fey before, but lacking the speed and grace. His strikes were like battering rams, focused and hard and effective. But his attention could use some work. Every now and again he would let a swing in and have to leap back, as though surprised, to avoid another before regaining himself and returning blows back with full force. Maybe the shock of the fey was wearing on him.

Still, he won, pinning his opponent to the wall of the grandstand and forcing a yield.

Dirk hoped he would do better in future matches, or maybe all this work was for nothing. Vantas needed to win.

"I think I'm going to throw my next matches," Karkat said.

Dave snorted. "No you won't."

Dave had been waiting for Karkat after his match and they had made their way into the grandstand to watch the rest of the combatants. Jandi, who had won his archery bout, was up and holding his own against a minor lady.

Karkat wasn't paying as close attention as he wanted, though. He glared at Dave. "I might! I didn't even want to participate in this bullshit."

"That's because you're too obsessed with your conspiracy theories."

"I'm not--!" Karkat let out a frustrated sigh. "Something is up between you and his majesty," he whispered. 

Dave shook his head. "Don't know what you're talking about, 'Kat."

"Don't bullshit me , Dave! Right before the tournament was announced, you were suddenly super on edge any time he showed up and you were pissed after it was announced and now you're just…" Karkat gestured vaguely. "Resigned?"

"Karkat, drop it."

Karkat had never seen Dave quite so serious, never heard his voice drop to that low, vaguely threatening… growl, almost. "Dave, I… Fine. But this is still bullshit, and I still don't see the point in me actually trying to win."

Dave sighed. "If you're panties are in that much of a twist over his highness, maybe proving you're the best of his knights and you're not afraid to glare at him like he just shat all over your bed will send a message."

Karkat shrugged.

"Not to mention there's no way you'll actually let someone else win against you. Too goddamned stubborn for that." Dave laughed and shoved against Karkat, shoulder to shoulder.

Karkat shoved back. "Oh, shut the fuck up. At least I actually fight instead of trying to annoy my opponent into surrendering." He was smiling, though.

By the time they turned to pay attention to the fight again, Jandi had won and the masked man from the horse race was on the field with another knight, an unwieldy looking lance in hand.

The knight tried to charge in close, but Invocador easily held him at bay with this lance, jabbing forward and sweeping and taking back any ground the knight gained.

Karkat tugged at the hem of his sleeves, then glanced nervously at his friend. "Dave…"

"Karkat, don't," Dave warned.

"Just tell me one thing, that's it. Do you think he's a bad person? Do you not trust him?"

Dave's expression softened, and he looked toward the box the prince and his cousin were sitting in. "He's a good ruler. He's good for this kingdom, and I'd die for him, as is my duty."

"But...?" Karkat prodded.

Dave shook his head. "That's all that matters."

Karkat looked like he wanted to ask something else, but Dave stopped him with a look.

"I'm serious, dude. Drop it. Serve your prince and don't worry about any weird shit he may or may not be planning. As long as it doesn't fuck over the kingdom, it's not our problem."

Karkat chewed on his lip, but dropped it.

Invacador had won, almost as quickly as Maryam had, and the prince with the jester-esque face paint was up next.

Kurloz Makara, prince of Prospit, had a club in each hand and calmly watched the knight he was up against dash forward with her short sword and shield. Her shield was up, ready to block any swings, her sword arm back ready to strike.

But one, two, quicker than Karkat could see, a club to each side of her head, one to the temple and one to the jaw. The knight collapsed. The prince waved to Prince Diederik and exited the stadium while a physician rushed past him to get the knight to a cot.

Karkat was suddenly wondering if he would even have to throw his matches. These surprise entries were… something else.

Up last was the prince of Derse and another knight. He was also a dual wielder, but with daggers rather than clubs. He was fast, dashing up to the knight and scissoring his blades around her flail then twisting sharply, causing her wrist and arm to bend unnaturally until it was behind her back and she dropped it. Prince Ampora kicked her knees out from under her and brought his blades to her throat as she kneeled below him.

She tried to kick back at him, but he stomped on her leg and she cried out. "Yield! I yield!"

The prince pushed himself off of her and sheathed his blades. He neither acknowledged the announcement of his victory nor Prince Diederik.

Yeah, these fuckers were something else, indeed.

1st Round of Armed Combat Results: Kanaya Maryam - Unknown Title or Fealty, Feferi Peixis - Unknown Title or Fealty,  Sir Dave Strider - Royal Knight of Skaia, Sir Karkat Vantas - Royal Knight of Skaia, Sir Jandi Qar - Royal Knight of Skaia, Rufioh Invocador - Unknown Title or Fealty, Prince Kurloz Makara of Prospit, Prince Eridan Ampora of Derse ⇒ advance to the quarter finals.

Chapter Text

Rose did not join Dirk to watch the race, instead opting to sit with her winged fey in the general seating and pretend they weren't causing a stir.

The line up wasn't anything exciting after the last event. The Prospit knight from the archery competition (Tavros… Nitram?) was being secured to his saddle, some sort of device attached to and extending from his arms, assumedly to direct the horse where his legs could not. The fish fey, Feferi Peixes, was also there, babbling happily to the knights and nobles next to her, Lord Egbert being the only one really engaging back.

The trumpet went off and the race began, but Dirk barely paid attention, instead looking through the crowd. He spotted Strider and Vantas were here as well, but tried to not pay too close attention, lest Vantas decide to switch seats again. Still, he watched them more than he watched the race, only looking up to see that, once again, three clear victors emerged early on, the two surprise entrants and Lord Egbert. He wondered if he should ask Captain Pyrope to up his knights' horseback training since so far Strider had been the only one to make it close to the top.

A thought for another time.

Strider seemed enthralled by the race, but Vantas was distracted again. Dirk frowned, but supposed that his attention span didn't particularly matter outside of his fights; as long as he focused more on his next bouts, Dirk didn't particularly care if he was distractible in his leisure time.

After all, Dirk wasn't much better, because as much as he was trying to avoid looking at the man in yellow that was also watching the race, cheering on his fellow Prospitian who was slowly taking the lead, it nagged at the back of his mind.

Unfortunately his eyes slipped again to Jake, who happened to glance his way at the same time, and their eyes locked for just a second. Jake smiled and Dirk looked away.

Rose was right. He was far, far too human.

Peixes crossed the finish line. The crowd of people were beginning to stand, some moving toward where the riders would be dismounting, others to go back to the grandstand for the next event. Dirk slipped out of his stand and down the ladder and made his way back to his box seating in the grandstand, relieved as he passed by a searching Jake English unnoticed.

2nd Horseback Race Results:  Lord John of house Egbert of Skaia, Sir Tavros Nitram - Royal Knight of Prospit, Feferi Peixes - Unknown Title or Fealty ⇒  moving on to final race on day five.

Karkat was pacing. Again. Dave wasn't there this time so he had to distract himself from the Prospitian prince and one of his knights (the one who seemed to be friendly with his majesty and, well, everyone now, it seemed), a very wolf like woman who was probably with the other two fey who was just sitting there grinning , and less troubling, but still distracting, yet another masked woman, giggling in the corner with the one from the archery competition, Roxy. Roxy Strider. Karkat knew the last name didn’t imply relation, it actually implied the opposite , the inherent lack of any relation, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Dave when he looked at her.

So he did his best to not, not at her, not at any of the others.

The other nobles and knights seemed equally invested in trying to ignore the strangers, except for one noble with some sort of blue and red tinted goggles strapped to his face and leather helmet on his head, who seemed to be the only one succeeding in the task.

When an announcer came to usher the first pair out, it was that noble and a knight up first.

The others in the waiting area didn't seem as interested in watching this comparatively unexciting match, but it was a good distraction for Karkat, who was glad the narrow slit he was looking through didn't let him see the prince and presumably didn't let the prince see him in turn.

The match began and the knight tripped on the first step she took to the noble. She recovered quickly and threw a fist at him, but he dodged and she stumbled again. 

The noble threw a punch toward her face, which she tried to block with arms crossed in front of her, but the angle she put her clenched hands at caused the force from the Noble's punch to make her hit herself in the eye.

Something wasn't right.

She didn't let it phase her, though her face was red, and she countered with a punch to his gut. She barely missed and fell forward again, tripping over her feet as she did so.

The noble brought an elbow down on her back and she collapsed.

The knight tried to get up, but her right hand got caught on her left sleeve and she fell again.

This was… painful to watch and Karkat hoped her many fumbles weren't as obvious at the distance the audience was at. But something wasn't right . Karkat had never known this knight to be clumsy, and the noble seemed to almost be expecting each of the slip ups, with a countermove prepared as they happened.

The knight flipped to her back and kicked up, but the noble caught her leg and flipped her back around, then pinned her to the ground under his boot.

He bent down and seemed to say something to her.

She closed her eyes for a moment then said, "I yield," almost too softly for the announcer to hear.

Mituna Captor was declared the winner. He lifted his goggles just a bit to wipe sweat from under them and Karkat caught the briefest glimpse of what he was beginning to suspect: a deep green glow that was quickly fading. The noble had been using his aspect in the match.

Karkat chewed his lip, then stormed out of the waiting area, outside of the grandstand, calling, "I'll be back!" to the concerned knights left in his wake.

He dashed around the side of the stadium until he reached the slightly hidden steps that led to the prince's booth, both annoyed and relieved there were no guards to go through. He took the stairs two at a time and fell to one knee, panting, as soon as he reached the entrance.

Karkat glanced up through his mess of hair to see his majesty relax the grip he had on a dagger on his waist.

"Majesty," Karkat said. "Forgive the interruption."

"Sir Vantas," Prince Diederik said, surprise apparent in his voice, "how can I help you?"

"Lord Captor is a cheat." 

The trumpet blasted, but Karkat couldn't make out who was being announced.

"Do you have any proof?" the prince asked, so calm that Karkat realized he knew .

"No, but--"

"Can you get any proof?"

"No, but --"

"Then my hands are tied."

Karkat looked up angrily, locking eyes with his liege. "So that's it? You'll just let a cheat run rampant? Is that the kind of tournament you're holding?"

The prince stared impassively back. "What would you have me do, sir knight?"

"I would have you throw him out, have a rematch for the knight who was disqualified against him!"

"And is that how I should rule, casting judgement and punishment with no proof?"

" I saw him !"

"You saw him cheat?"

"I saw afterward! His eyes were glowing!"

"Afterward. After he had won."

"Yes! I…" Karkat faltered, understanding the implication, and his gaze lowered again. He took a breath to steady himself then said, "This isn't right."

"It's not," the prince agreed.

Another trumpet blast, signaling another quick defeat. The name announced wasn't familiar to Karkat. Nep something maybe? Must have been one of the two women Karkat hadn’t recognized.

Dirk looked out to the field below. "One of your brethren is up next. Go support them."

Karkat frowned, but got up and turned to leave.

"And, Sir Vantas?"

Karkat turned back slightly, but didn't try to make eye contact.

"Thank you. For coming to me with this. It will be dealt with."

Karkat's brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to ask what the prince meant, but Prince Diederik was already back to his seat in a clear dismissal. Karkat bowed. "Majesty." Then left.

As soon as he heard Vantas descend the last step, Dirk let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

He was not supposed to have talked to him yet. Not that this conversation upset his plans, he didn't think, but it put him on edge. Those deep red eyes staring into him from barely two paces away…

Dirk shook his head and tried to focus on the match, lest anyone think he was snubbing the prince of Prospit.

He glanced over the crowd and saw his cousin sitting with the two fey currently announced. Apparently now that they were out in the open, she no longer felt the need to sit with him. Just as well, she was nosing too much into his plans just as he was sure he was nosing too much into hers. And after Sir Vantas bursting into his box, he was quite thankful she wasn't there to bear witness and hoped Vantas had stayed close enough to the stairs that he wasn't seen by anyone in the audience. Unless of course he was Seen but Dirk, unfortunately, could not control what Rose could see with her aspect.

He was still distracted.

He refocused in the match below, the knight up against the prince already looking worse for wear.

They ran up to Prince Kurloz, a fist pulled back and ready, but he crouched swiftly and kicked their legs out from under them. The knight scrambled back, trying to create enough distance to get back up, but as soon as they pushed themselves up, the prince kicked out. The knight clutched their side and cried out, face now to the ground and struggling to push themselves up with one arm. 

The Prospitian prince paced around them, watching as they fell back to the ground and ready to pounce again as soon as they stood up.

But they didn't stand back up. They raised a hand and called out their yield and a physician immediately rushed forward to help them off the field.

Prince Kurloz waved to Dirk again and exited the stadium.

One of his nobles and knights were up next and Dirk could not pay attention to them, then smirked to himself at the irony as he recalled criticizing Vantas's lack of attention earlier.

But maybe he was wrong. Maybe Vantas was paying too close attention. Not that he minded in this instance, he was sincere when he told the knight he appreciated that he came to Dirk for this, especially considering the man's apparent distaste for him. It eased his mind somewhat, really, as flat out disobedience in all situations was inherently troublesome. But Vantas was still a knight honor and duty bound and he seemed to take both seriously, and Dirk hoped that would work in his favor.

Dirk paused, realizing how much worse he felt thinking of Vantas as a pawn after he had actually spoken to the man. He felt ill, and he wondered if maybe he wasn’t too human after all.

Karkat paced. Another knight lost, this time to just a regular-ass noble. It set him on edge, made him feel like this whole tournament was set up to make fools of them rather than celebrate them. It added to his ever-growing pile of conspiracy theories. To be fair, the noble who won, Domi Carmia who also won her round of archery, was one of the few Skaian nobles who won as well, so maybe if there was some ploy to demean them, it wasn’t just his fellow knights. Misery loves company, right?

Roxy Strider was up next, with a noble this time, at least. Karkat eyed her as she passed and flustered when she winked at him.

As soon as the trumpet sounded, Roxy dashed to the noble, swept her legs under him, knocking him to the ground, then jumped back a couple of paces.

The noble pushed himself up, forearms posed in front of his face, and warily advanced.

Roxy fake stepped to the left, then quickly switched to the right, and her leg slammed into his side, buckling him over, but as he bent forward, he grabbed her leg and tried to pull her off balance, but she pulled that leg down hard bringing the noble with it.

He didn’t let go, though, and twisted as he fell, making Roxy stagger and fall over him.

Instead of trying to get up, she threw a punch to his jaw, and he didn’t block in time, and she brushed off his attempt to counter.

Karkat had trouble seeing the next few moves. It seemed like the noble tried to push her off of him, and they rolled for a bit, until she managed to get him on his stomach and pin one arm and one leg behind his back.

He struggled, refusing to yield, until Roxy sat on him for another few seconds, now looking relatively bored, and the announcer forced the issue.

Roxy hopped off of the noble and skipped out of the stadium, her opponent following slowly behind.

Karkat was next, up against another noble. They shook hands before the match, as though acknowledging that they were the only originally intended combatants, then walked a few paces away from each other and waited for their cue.

When the sound went off, they dashed toward each other again, both stopping short of getting back into arms’ reach.

Karkat feinted forward and the noble stepped back.

The noble tried to feint, but Karkat recognized it, and caught them under the jaw, then when they failed to recover in time, got them in the gut as well.

The noble doubled over, then lunged forward, grabbing Karkat by the waist and driving him back.

Karkat’s feet barely kept up pace as he slammed his fists onto their back, trying to get out before he was pinned to the wall, but the noble’s arms were locked tight. Thinking quickly, he pushed against his instincts and let himself fall back and feet slide forward. The noble tumbled ahead without him as he slammed hard onto his back. Karkat was dazed for a second, but he recovered before the noble did and scrambled to his feet, readying himself in the few more seconds it took for them to recover as well.

As soon as the noble was unsteadily on their feet, arms not quite sturdy in front of them, Karkat socked them in the cheek and they stumbled back into the wall they were trying to pin Karkat to.

Karkat readied another punch, but waited, and the noble threw up their hands and yielded.

Karkat relaxed, then helped them over to the physician, resisting the urge to look up at the prince as his victory was announced.

Karkat tried to wait around with the noble to make sure they were okay, but the physician waved him off, and he grumbingly went out to meet Dave, who had left his seat to wait for him by the exit.

“Wanna go back and watch the last two matches?” Dave asked, already heading that direction.

Karkat shook his head, but didn’t offer an alternative.

Dave gave him a look, but shrugged, and led him over to the food vendors to grab cups of mulled wine and a chunk of hard cheese, then over to  a small grove of trees at the outskirts of the tournament area.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Dave asked, “Want to talk about it?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Big enough to keep you quiet for more than thirty seconds.”

Karkat smacked him lightly. “Rich, coming from you.”

Dave laughed.

Karkat let the silence go on for another few moments, then, “I talked to his majesty.”

Dave jerked, spilling some of his wine. “You what ? Karkat, what the fuck? I mean, what the fuck ?”

“I didn’t go accusing him of shit, if that’s what you’re thinking!” Karkat said quickly.

Dave’s mouth formed a tight line, but he seemed a little appeased.

“I just had to tell him about the bullshit that went down in the first match. That cheating fucking noble piece of shit.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dave said. “You’re telling me that you went to his highness, Prince Diederik, Lord of the Bullshit Fields, Founder of the Puppet Society, etc etc to tell him about someone cheating ?”

Karkat looked confused. “Uh, yeah?”

Dave popped the last of the cheese in his mouth and used his now free hand to cover his face. He swallowed, then looked back at Karkat. “ Why did you not go to the servant on the field? Or one of his advisors? Or, I don’t know, anyone else ?”

“I… Hm.” Karkat thought for a moment. “They didn’t seem… enough?”

“Enough,” Dave repeated.

Karkat shrugged, suddenly feeling defensive. “I mean, might as well go to the top dog, right?”

“Karkat, I think we both know this is more about your weird ass fucking paranoia about him than that.”

Karkat frowned. “I don’t--”

“Nope, nuh uh, don’t wanna hear it. Doesn’t matter why you think you did it. It happened. Just. Don’t fucking do it again, okay? Don’t confront the literal heir to the Skaian throne about some tournament bullshit that legitimately doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

“... Fine.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise you overdramatic dipshit!” Karkat grumbled.

1st Round of Unarmed Combat Results: Lord Mituna of house Captor of Skaia, Nepeta Leijon - Unknown Title or Fealty, Prince Kurloz Makara of Prospit, Lady Domi of house Carmia of Skaia, Roxy Strider - Unknown Title or Fealty, Sir Karkat Vantas - Royal Knight of Skaia, Jade Harley - Unknown Title or Fealty, Sir Jake English - Royal Knight of Prospit ⇒ advance to the quarter finals.

Karkat wasn’t sure how long they sat there, he just knew neither of them cared to watch the last round of the race, Dave not entirely caring who he was up against, “Except Lord Egbert,” Karkat had teased. Eventually, the two got up and mingled with their fellow knights, idly checking out the new rotation of vendors, before calling it an early night before their quarterfinals and possibly semi finals the next day.

3rd Horseback Race Results:  Lord Equius of house Zahhak of Skaia, Nepeta Leijon  - Unknown Title or Fealty, Jade Harley - Unknown Title or Fealty ⇒  moving on to final race on day five.

Dirk tried not to be troubled when he didn’t see Vantas or Strider for the rest of the day. Unfortunately that meant his mind jumped to Jake English, who had bowed deeply but smiled a little too smugly after his victorious match in unarmed combat. He was glad Rose was occupied with the three fey, sure she would sniff out his preoccupations if she tried, and that thought also provided an even better distraction.

The last to be revealed fey, a wolf-girl named Jade Harley, won both her unarmed combat bout and placed in the race, which made all three set to go to the next rounds. While Dirk doubted that all Rose wanted was for them to have some fun outside the Liminal Forests, sure she had something else up her sleeve, the group of four did genuinely look… happy, like there truly was nothing else weighing them down, just thoughts of their matches to come.

Something akin to envy bubbled up in Dirk, but he quickly shoved it back down as the other princes approached him.

“Congratulations on moving on to the quarter finals,” he said.

Prince Eridan snorted. “Like that was fucking hard.”

Prince Kurloz inclined his head, then looked to the group Dirk had been observing moments earlier and his hands flashed as he signed a question.

“What the fuck is up with them?” the Dersite prince translated.

“My cousin has brought them out to give them a tour of what Skaia has to offer, apparently.”

Prince Kurloz signed again, and Eridan snorted. “Never so simple with the fey freaks. They always got something else going on.” Eridan mused for a moment. “Could say the same thing about seers, to be quite fucking frank.”

Dirk smirked. “I’m sure they do, but I’m not overly concerned.”

Prince Kurloz looked more serious as he signed. Prince Eridan nodded. “Don’t underestimate the fey, Diederik. Skaia may not have dealt with them more than a handful of times in decades, but our countries have had their share of conflicts with them. When we weren’t too busy fighting each other, right?” He snickered and elbowed Prince Kurloz who smiled at him. And if Dirk thought the smile was cold, maybe he was just projecting.

Time for a topic change.

“I’m surprised Kurloz brought representatives with him, yet you did not, Eridan.”

Kurloz shrugged.

“I wasn’t looking for any volunteers. Though, neither was Kurly. That English guy just kept insisting this was a good training exercise for Nitram and Kurloz here said fuck it, why not?”

Kurloz nodded and shrugged again.

“Speaking of this shit, why are you keeping those masked morons around?”

Dirk shrugged. “I want to see what they’re up to.”

Eridan let out a derisive snort. “Your funeral, I guess. Or your empty coffers or whatever the fuck. Which by the way, you better have something better than money planned for a prize. I know someone said some bullshit about a secret prize to ‘whoever was worthy,’” he said the last in a deep, dramatic tone, “but I don’t need any of that.”

“Are bragging rights not enough?”

Eridan smirked. “Being able to say I trounced the best of mother fucking Skaia is pretty good, you got me there. I just hope it doesn’t stay as easy as it’s been so far.”

Kurloz nodded in agreement.

“Anyway, your sweaty Lord Zahhak is shacking us up and is probably turning into a puddle wondering where the fuck we’re at.”

“You could have stayed in the castle, you know.”

Eridan snorted again. “Yeah, thanks no thanks. ‘Specially not since the horse guy is funny as shit. We’ll see you tomorrow Diederik.” 

Kurloz inclined his head again and Dirk returned the gesture, then the two princes left.

“Everything well?”

Dirk tried not to jump as his cousin appeared beside him. “Just keeping up with formalities.” He looked over to the fey bunched together, watching them. “Are they to be joining us at the castle?”

Rose shook her head. “They have other housing arrangements. In fact, I think I’ll be joining them tonight. Adjusting to being around so many people again… is difficult.” She sighed and shook her head.

Dirk just nodded.

She gave him a peck on the cheek and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, cousin,” then went back to the awaiting women.

So, with nothing left to do, and not wanting to linger and invite more conversation, Dirk returned to his castle, alone, once again.

Chapter Text

The fourth day of the tournament was bright and cool and began earlier than Karkat personally liked. He did his morning stretches with some of the other knights, and was about to grab a quick breakfast from the mess hall when Captain Pyrope gestured for him to follow her.

She led him over to a corner where Dave and Jandi were waiting and paced in front of them.

"You three are the only ones who made it past the preliminaries," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "I need you-- we need you to win this for us. This was supposed to be our moment, and--" she cut herself off abruptly then sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I took a look at the schedule. None of you are against each other so there are no excuses to not see each of you in the semifinals."

The three knights nodded.

"Of course," Jandi said.

"Easy, breezy," Dave said.

"Like I'd lose to any of those assholes," Karkat said.

Captain Pyrope grinned widely. "Good. Strider, you're up first, so get ready quick, do what you need to do, then make us proud."

Dave gave a little salute and the four separated again.

By the time Karkat finished wolfing down his porridge and bread roll, Dave had already left for the tournament. 

Dirk frowned as he walked through the lines of stalls, watching the merchants and artisans set up for the day. Several of them yawned and stretched then jumped when they saw him, and Dirk did his best to stifle his own yawn. Still he paced back and forth, weaving through food stalls and weapon stands, frowning at them all.

"You're making them nervous," Rose said, getting the jump on Dirk for the second time in less than 24 hours.

" You're getting sneaky."

"I've always been sneaky, dear," she said, smiling. "Is something the matter?"

Dirk glanced back and saw the three fey following at a respectable distance, then looked back to Rose.

Rose followed his eyes and said, "You can trust them as you do me. Or if you truly feel uncomfortable I can send them away."

Dirk shook his head. "It's nothing anyway. Something just feels off. Something looks wrong everywhere I turn and I cannot place my finger on what."

"We'll find out in due time, I'm sure." Rose patted his arm. "In any case, I have been informed that I have been quite rude and not introduced you to my companions properly. Would you care to cease your stalking around and instead grab a bite of food with us before people finish filtering into the grounds?"

Dirk glanced back at the three then nodded. "Of course."

The group made their way to Master Crocker's baker's stand and grabbed a basket of pastries, waving off the guild leader's insistence to take more because "half of you are far too thin for my liking and a bite of sweet is no substitute for breakfast," then they made their way to some seating that had been arranged nearby.

Despite the table being round, it felt as though Dirk sat opposite the four women and had the rare feeling that he was not the one with the power here. Still, they had politely waited for him to sit and begin eating before they did the same, and looked at him expectantly.

"I understand you three are from the Liminal Forests and are new to the kingdom. I assume my cousin has already told you who I am, but in case she has failed to, I am Prince Diederik, heir to the throne of Skaia, and I welcome you to my kingdom." He thought for a moment then added, "You may call me Dirk." It might ruffle a few feathers depending in what company they chose to do so, but these were not his subjects, after all.

The three fey inclined their heads, and Maryam introduced herself first, "I am Kanaya Maryam, apprentice to the Mother of the Forest. I thank you for your hospitality and allowing us to join your festivities."

"I'm Feferi Peixes, guardian of the streams, and I look forward to playing with your contestants some more!"

"I'm Jade Harley, ambassador of the witch's grove, and I do hope the rest of your people are not quite so frail as the gentleman I was against earlier. And your horses! So skittish."

"Be nice, Jade," Kanaya said.

Jade's ears twitched. "I am!"

Rose looked pleased.

"Do you know how long you will be visiting Skaia?" Dirk asked.

"Now, Dirk, let's not mix business with pleasure. There will be plenty of time for you to interrogate them once your tournament is over."

"Fair enough."

"Besides," Kanaya said, "I am in the first match of the day, so I, at least, shouldn't linger. I merely wished to be properly introduced, since Rose had apparently forgotten her manners."

Rose smiled bashfully and Kanaya smiled back.

"Hm," Dirk said.

Rose shot him a look and for a second he thought she might stick her tongue out at him. "You're right, Kanaya, dear, let us be off."

And as suddenly as they had come to him, they left, leaving Dirk with an over half full basket of pastries.

He frowned at it, as though it was the source of all his unease and unanswered questions, then opted to take it with him to his seating in the grandstand.

Dave was standing at the entrance to the stadium from beneath the grandstand when Karkat arrived. His sword was gripped in his hand, and he didn't turn as Karkat approached.

"You okay?" Karkat asked.

Dave shrugged. "Ready as I'll ever be. Wait. Shit. That's not what you asked. Sorry 'Kat I'm wigging out a little bit T B H."

Karkat slung an arm across his friend's shoulders. "You've got this, Dave. You're the only one I want to go up against in the finals."

Dave snickered. "Feeling cocky, are we?"

"Not even a little bit."

They laughed and their nervous energy started to work its way out. 

More people filtered into the room, Maryam among them. Dave turned to look and their eyes caught. They gave each other a solemn nod and Dave stared out into the field again.

The seats in the bleachers began filling up with a crowd of people, and Karkat noticed a tell tale shock of blue. He slapped his hand against Dave's shoulder and said, "Well Lord Egbert is watching, so now you definitely can't fuck it up."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Thanks, dude. No pressure at all."

After what felt like both seconds and hours, Dave stepped aside for the announcer to post the schedule for the armed combat event on the wall and check everyone off of his list.

He looked between Dave and Maryam. "Are you ready?" he asked.

They both nodded.

"Very well. I'll be back for you both shortly."

The announcer made his way to the middle of the field, unrolled a scroll, and said, "Today marks the start of the quarterfinals! There will be four matches and the winner of each will move to the semifinals later today! Up first we have the armed combat contestants as follows:

Sir Dave Strider vs Kanaya Maryam

Sir Jandi Qar vs his highness Prince Kurloz Makara

Feferi Peixes vs his highness Prince Eridan Ampora

And finally

Rufioh Invocador vs Sir Karkat Vantas!"

A polite applause went through the crowd.

"First up, Sir Dave Strider, royal knight of Skaia and Kanaya Maryam of the Liminal Forests." He gestured to the waiting area and Maryam and Dave walked out and took their places on either side of the stadium. The announcer took his place on a short ledge overlooking them and signaled for the trumpet to be blown.

Dave braced himself, but Maryam didn’t charge straight in this time.

They walked in tighter and tighter circles around each other, until Dave was a step out of reach from Maryam’s greataxe, but she wasn’t quite as close to his short sword.

They circled each other like this for another minute or so, Maryam tall and at the ready while Dave was hunched over, braced for impact.

He dashed forward, sword aiming for her middle.

She blocked it and pushed back with her axe then used that momentum to bring it down on his shoulder.

Dave dodged, missing the full force of the blow, but it hit the edge of his nondominant arm, which he shook as he jumped back a few paces.

They circled again, but didn’t get any closer.

Dave sprinted forward again, and Maryam prepared the same counter, but at the last second he lunged to her other side, just barely getting behind her, and slammed his sword in the base of her spine, right underneath her wings.

Even from a distance, Karkat could see the O her face made in shock as she arched back and stumbled. She caught herself with the handle of her axe, but Dave was on her again, sword connecting right underneath the joint between arm and shoulder.

The grip on her axe losened, but she quickly tossed it to her other hand, her dominant arm now limp at her side, and arced it wide to catch Dave’s hip as he was trying to put distance between them.

He fell hard on his ass, and barely managed to get his sword up in time to block the blow from Maryam’s axe coming from above. He pushed himself back with his feet and free hand, the arm still trembling with exertion from the hit from earlier.

He was up, though almost backed against the wall. He leveraged his right heel against it and shoved himself off, sword pointed forward. He caught Maryam’s shoulder hard, hard enough the force pushed it up and over those shimmering scales and sliced into her wing behind it.

She cried out, and Dave hesitated, which was a mistake.

Maryam drove forward, forcing Dave to be on the defensive and not able to do much about it with her longer reach.

Blows rained in diagonal slashes down on him, faster than he could keep up with. He was able to dodge or block most of them, but Karkat could see the occasional reverberations in his armor and the bit of blood dripping down the side of his neck.

Running out of options, Dave dropped into a crouch and dived out to the side, Maryam’s axe creating a dust cloud from the spot he just occupied.

He quickly righted himself, crouched on the balls of his feet, sword arm up, and he launched himself at Maryam, who turned around, ready to block.

At the last second Dave tossed his short sword to his bad arm and swung, hitting her hard in the middle.

This time she buckled and collapsed to one knee, axe out of her grip, and Dave’s sword, held in both hands, at her throat.

“I yield,” she said. It sounded soft, but her voice managed to reverberate through the stadium.

The crowd cheered, and Dave dropped his arms, then used his good one to help Maryam up, and they staggered off the field together.

Jandi clapped Karkat on the shoulder excitedly, both of them relieved and hopeful this was a good sign for them.

The confidence boost was needed, as Jandi was up next against the prince of Prospit.

If Jandi won this, then it was a guarantee at least one knight would make it into the finals, and gods did Karkat want that security.

He didn’t get it.

Sir Jandi Qar made a valiant effort when the trumpet sounded. He approached cautiously. He feinted. He even dodged the prince’s first blow.

But the second went to his hip so hard he staggered. He almost caught himself from falling, but Prince Kurloz slammed both clubs into the knight’s back and he collapsed.

Karkat’s gut twisted as he watched Jandi struggle to get up, even on his elbows, but another blow to the base of his spine and he cried out and slapped the ground three times to signal his yield.

The crowd was silent as the prince watched a physician’s assistant run up to help Sir Jandi off the field. Prince Kurloz waved to Prince Diederik’s box and strolled casually out of the stadium.

All confidence and hope gained after Dave’s match was crushed so quickly it created a void of dread in its wake. Karkat pushed down his anxiety, for his own match coming up oh so quickly, for Dave who would have to fight Prince Kurloz in the semi finals, and instead forced his attention to the next match.

The prince from Derse and the water fey were up next.

Prince Eridan sneered at the fey, who simply bared her row of shark teeth back at him in a gesture only a fool would call a smile.

At the sound of the trumpet, the prince dashed forward, daggers at the ready, while Peixes simply waited with her polearm at her side. He went for the wrist of the hand holding her weapon, but as soon as he got in range, she swung the staff low and swept his feet out from under him.

He lay on his back for a second, then rolled as the butt of the weapon descended to his chest. He pushed himself back to his feet, then launched himself at the fey again, clearly keeping a better eye on the polearm this time.

Peixes sidestepped and swung the polearm around her back, into her other hand, and into the prince’s back, knocking him to his hands and knees.

Instead of bothering to get up, he swung a dagger at her legs, but she just used both hands to pitch the staff and sweep his hand away. It connected right below his palm and his dagger went flying.

The prince scrambled to his feet and lunged after his blade, but Peixes was quicker.

She gripped her polearm tightly with both hands and swung, knocking the prince on his back so hard Karkat swore he could hear both the impact and all the air forced out of Prince Eridan’s lungs.

The fey quickly flipped her polearm upside down and pressed the triple point into the prince’s throat.

They stared at each other, his chest heaving.

Prince Eridan smacked the ground three times, and he was out.

Peixes removed her weapon, then held out her arm to help the prince up, but he brushed her off and clambored to his feet himself, walking past the awaiting physician and out of the stadium hunched over, arms clutched across his chest. The fey followed, a few paces behind.

A hand clapped Karkat on the shoulder and he jolted before glaring at the perpetrator. His glare had to travel up several more inches before meeting the gleaming bronze eyes of the last man in the room, his opponent, Rufioh Invocador.

“Hey, good luck out there, man,” the tall, well muscled (how had Karkat not noticed how big he was before?) man said with a wink before heading out onto the field.

Karkat’s mind scrambled, trying to combine what little he remembered of the man’s earlier match and the tactics he just saw used by Peixes.

The masked man stood across from him, holding his lance like he was in a jousting tournament than on his feet, and grinning at Karkat, who did his best to refrain from chewing his lip.

The trumpet sounded and Karkat didn’t move.

They stared at each other for a few moments, then Invocador began to casually walk forward, lance still at the ready.

Karkat bounced on the balls of his feet and Invocador became more cautious the closer he approached.

“Are you just going to stand there all--”

Karkat lunged forward into a roll.

Invocador tried to bring his lance down on him but he missed.

Karkat popped up less than a foot away and sliced out with his falchion at the masked man’s middle.

Invocador winced and tried to leap back but Karkat brought the sword up, catching the elbow joint of his armor and twisting until the man was forced to twist himself at the hips, legs not quite keeping up with the motion.

He stumbled forward and Karkat brought his sword down hard on the center of his back, then on his dominant shoulder, forcing Invocador to let go of the grip he had on his lance that was keeping him upright.

The masked man fell to his knees, but when Karkat raised his arms to strike again, he grabbed his lance, just a few inches below the pointed tip, and stabbed at Karkat’s stomach.

The blow pushed Karkat a few steps back and Invocador flicked his wrist to shift his grip down the lance’s staff a few more inches to gain more ground.

Fuck. Karkat needed to stay close or he didn’t have a chance.

Another wrist flick, another pace back, another wrist flick and--

Karkat swung his sword down on the staff, as close to Invocador’s hand as he could. The vibrations from the blow moved through his wrist but he kept it ready as the lance was smashed out of Invocador’s grip.

Karkat lunged forward, swiping at the man’s chest and driving him a few paces back from his weapon.

Invocador looked between Karkat and his lance and did the math quickly. He raised his hands and said, “You got me, man, I yield, I yield.” He was grinning again.

Karkat lowered his falchion.

His name was called out as victor and the announcer informed the audience the archery quarterfinals would be starting shortly.

Karkat reflexively looked up to the prince’s box as he walked out of the stadium, and practically choked on his own tongue. Prince Diederik was watching him and as soon as they made whatever feeble eye contact they could at this distance, he raised the pastry he was in the middle of eating into a mock salute.

He heard Invocador laugh behind him, but did not look back to him or his majesty as he stomped off the field.

Chapter Text

"I swear it was here a minute ago…"

Dirk was making his way to his booth for the archery quarterfinals, basket of pastries still in hand, when he overheard a pair of vendors talking. He lingered nearby, careful to not seem like he was paying too close attention.

"Did you lose another one?" a short man with close cropped brown hair asked. (Dirk thought he was a jeweler of some sort, if his mental checklist of artisans added up.) He shook his head. "You know I'd tease you, but I swear my stock of small gems has dwindled, and I can't find my favorite pliers either."

The blonde woman he was talking to frowned. "You know, Damien, I think I heard…"

But Dirk didn't stick around to see what else she had heard as a bright yellow form in his peripheral was making a beeline toward him.

Dirk slipped between a few stands then looped around to the opposite side he would have come at the archery ring had he come at it head on. He was rewarded with seeing his pursuer come through the crowds and find a seat a few minutes later, craning his neck to look around, and eventually giving up. 

Dirk grabbed another pastry from his basket and munched idly on it. He would have to keep an ear out for more things going missing. Two vendors misplacing their wares wasn't cause for alarm, but it lined up with his feeling something was off earlier today.

After another moment of thought and a few more bites, he caught the eye of one of the servants making sure everything was set up and jerked his head to call him over.

"Majesty?"

"Grab two of the guards from the perimeter and add them to the patrols through the grounds, focusing on the artisans' booths."

The servant bowed and dashed off to comply.

If there really were things going missing, there were obvious culprits he had to consider, no matter how he hoped they had shown up for something more than just a bit of thievery.

Karkat was relieved that neither Jandi nor Dave seemed especially worse for wear after their bouts. Jandi was stiff and stretched his arms and shoulders and wrists as he waited to be called up to his target. Dave's neck was clear of blood, the lot of it apparently having drained from a now crusted over nick on his ear.

The schedule for the matches had been hung up on a few posts around the area. Jandi was up first against Lord Egbert, and Karkat hated that he was fine with the noble winning because at least it meant it was someone who was supposed to have been competing in the first place.

He shouldn't be fine with that. He should want his fellow knight to win no matter what.

Karkat looked to Dave whose mouth was pressed into a thin line and wondered if he was having a similar struggle. Maybe for different reasons.

He shook his head. Dave wouldn't let a crush come before his comrades. Karkat knew Dave wanted Jandi to win as much as he did.

A trumpet call quieted the crowd and an announcer climbed up to a podium and unrolled a scroll.

"The archery quarterfinals will begin shortly! The paired competitors are as follows:

Lord John Egbert vs Sir Jandi Qar

Kanaya Maryam vs Lady Domi Carmia

Prince Eridan Ampora vs Sir Tavros Nitram

And

Lord Equius Zahhak vs Roxy Strider!" The announcer paused for a moment, then said, "Will Lord John of house Egbert of Skaia and Sir Jandi Qar, royal knight of Skaia please step up to their marks!"

Karkat patted Jandi on the shoulder and Dave gave him a thumbs up. Jandi nodded to them both and approached the line.

Lord Egbert shook Jandi's hand once he made it up and they seemed to chat amicably for a few moments until the first trumpet blast to ready themselves.

A few more moments were given than in the preliminaries. This time they were aiming for the same target and a little more thought was involved.

Another few seconds and the horn sounded again.

Jandi loosed his arrow first, Lord Egbert's coming half a breath later.

Jandi's hit in the ring around the bullseye and Egbert's was a half an inch closer to the center.

Egbert shot a second arrow immediately, then a third, one going to the second ring out but the other hitting the edge of the bullseye.

Jandi took a breath and released his second. It came in the second ring as well.

Karkat frowned, the match basically lost unless he got a center bullseye, which he did not, his third arrow a little behind his first.

To Jandi's credit, he didn't look defeated, he smiled and shook Lord Egbert's hand as the noble's victory was officially tallied and announced, and joined a small cluster of knights waiting for him on one side of the rows of benches.

Karkat caught Dave's eye then gestured at the group with his head. Dave shrugged and the two joined the group, Karkat desperately trying not to think of his own second match coming up and the cheat he might be up against.

Kanaya and the other Skaian noble's match went about as Dirk expected. Maybe if Lady Domi had been up against another noble or even one of his knights her skills with a bow would be considered impressive, but Kanaya was blindingly fast and accurate with her shots once again. They formed a ring around the bullseye, and though one of the noble's managed to break in the middle, the other two were solidly in the first ring.

The two bowed to Dirk, and Kanaya rejoined Rose and the other fey. It looked like they planned to leave, but Rose put a hand on Kanaya's arm and instead she sat with the rest on the benches.

Prince Eridan and the Prospit knight, Nitram, were up next. Dirk couldn't help but smirk as he watched how the prince was obviously sulking from his previous loss. He scoffed at the nervous hand Sir Nitram held out to shake and readied himself.

Nitram rearranged his chair again, and loosed his arrow the second the signal went off, hitting on the edge of the bullseye.

Eridan's hit a little closer in and he spared a moment to sneer at the knight, in which time said knight shot off another arrow that hot at exactly the right angle to knock Eridan's off.

Eridan angrily pulled out his next arrow and, if he was trying to repeat the Prospitian's maneuver, he failed entirely as his second arrow hit the shaft of one of Nitram's and bounced uselessly to the ground.

They both released their third, but there was little point. Nitram won with two arrows in the bullseye, a third in the first ring, and Eridan lost with only one on the target at all.

Nitram looked kind of sheepish as his victory was announced and he rolled to the benches, where his fellow Prospitian knight was waiting for him.

Dirk's eyes lingered just a little too long. Jake English looked up, caught his eye, and waved cheerily.

Dirk looked away.

Last was Roxy and Lord Equius, the latter with a retainer ready with spare bows.

At the signal, the two shot simultaneously, a loud crack coming from the noble's bow.

Roxy hit dead center while Equius was two rings out.

Roxy was half shocked half laughing as Equius traded out for his second bow. She watched him shoot first, the string snapping this time. It hit the first ring and Roxy fired and hit right next to it.

She again waited for him to trade out his bow and shoot off his last arrow, striking about between his first and second. Roxy fired and it struck right next to his again, making her the winner.

She clapped him on the arm, touching it a bit more than Dirk thought was strictly necessary, and said something that made the noble pull out his large handkerchief and dab his face profusely.

She didn't spare him a glance when she walked off the field, which was for the best.

There was a bit of a gap between the end of this round of archery and the upcoming round of unarmed combat, but Dirk didn't want to be caught wandering around, so he grabbed his dwindling basket of pastries and made his way over, this time looping around the outskirts of the festival to avoid running into anyone.

He thought he was doing a pretty good job of it, too, until someone grabbed his hand and jerked him behind a cluster of trees, out of sight of the festival entirely.

Dirk grabbed for his dagger, but another large, strong hand grabbed his wrist to stop him and a smooth, deep voice said, "Now hold on there. No need for that."

Dirk stilled and looked up at the man towering over him (had he always been so tall? Had he always been so strong?). "Jake," he said.

"Hal," Jake replied, smiling. "You've been avoiding me."

Dirk shrugged him off and Jake politely took a half a step back. He was still… so, so close, though. "I've been busy."

Jake laughed. "I bet you have! Heir to the throne of Skaia, huh? Who would have thought."

"What do you want?"

Jake looked hurt, but recovered quickly. "I wanted to catch up! It's been years, Hal-- or should I call you Diederik? Your majesty, maybe?" He winked and Dirk couldn't repress a shiver at his intonation of the last. Jake's smile turned just a tad smug. "You could have told me, you know."

Dirk sighed and leaned against the tree, finally accepting that this was indeed a confrontation that was happening. "I tried. The night before I left."

"Oh," Jake said. A look of realization crossed his face. " Oh. "

Dirk covered his face with his hands and massaged his forehead. "Yeah." 

"I was stupid," they both said at once. Jake laughed and Dirk flushed.

"I'm sorry, Hal," Jake said, his smile tinged with sadness. "I thought… I knew you weren't going to be in Prospit forever so I thought we were on the same page about things. It wasn't until recently I started piecing it together."

"Yeah," Dirk said again.

Jake leaned in, taking back the ground he had given before.

"Jake…" Dirk said, a touch of warning in his voice.

"Hal," Jake replied. His hand cradled Dirk’s face, one thumb brushing along his jaw. "Let me make it up to you. Or tell me to stop, just say the word, love."

Dirk didn't make a sound.

After they heard the archery bouts had ended, Dave and Karkat had headed over to the grandstand, Karkat nervous for his upcoming match. Dave was going to hang out in the waiting area with him until it was his time to go up, and Karkat was relieved.

That is, until, a certain noble with bright blue eyes and a shit eating grin approached. "A moment of your time, Sir Strider?" He had asked, extending an arm.

Dave looked at Karkat, his eyes wide and his mouth parted and he let out a strangled, "Uh sure yeah Karkat be right back I'll be right back just chill out for a bit hang out vibe do your thing--"  Lord Egbert, apparently growing impatient, had grabbed Dave by the elbow and led him off away from the grandstand and the vendors and out of sight.

Karkat was now wandering around aimlessly, just away from the direction Dave and the noble went. He wasn't particularly in the mood to be around others while he waited, so he stayed to the edges, swerving between trees in his boredom.

And then he heard something. Something muffled. Something that sounded like a cry of pain.

Karkat cursed himself for not having his sword on him, but kept his hand ready to grab at the dagger in his boot. He approached the noise softly, slowly, then leaked around a tree to see a half dozen paces in front of him--

He saw

Well

Hm

He walked away as quietly as he had come, practically holding his breath. A branch snapped under him and he paused, heart beating in his chest, but when nothing happened, he continued on.

He made a beeline for the grandstand, deciding to wait outside of the entrance to the waiting area for Dave.

Dave.

Did he tell Dave?

Did Dave need to know?

Was there any practical reason to tell Dave that he saw his prince, his liege, his majesty, clutching to the considerable back of the overly friendly Prospitian knight, who was in turn driving his tongue down his royal throat.

Okay well maybe Karkat hadn't been able to see that but it certainly looked like that was the case.

He hoped his face cooled down before Dave came back. Karkat suddenly realized how much he did not want to tell anyone about this.

Dirk heard what sounded like a branch breaking, and he froze, pushing Jake off of him just enough for him to concentrate.

Jake cocked his head to listen as well, and after another minute or so of silence, he turned back to Dirk and said, “It was nothing, love, now where were we…” He dipped his head back to meet Dirk’s lips.

But the spell was broken.

The prince straightened up and pushed Jake firmly, who obligingly took a few steps back. He looked concerned and confused.

“Hal…?”

Dirk shook his head. “Hal is gone, he wasn’t real. This is me. And I’m over this. I’ve been over this. Over you. This was… a serious lapse in judgement.” The last seemed to be more aimed at himself than at Jake. The knight looked hurt nonetheless. Dirk sighed and ran his hand through his hair, trying to make it at least a little less obvious what he had been doing. “I’m sorry. This wouldn’t work out, anyway, not really.”

“Doesn’t mean we couldn’t have a little fun,” Jake joked.

But Dirk didn’t smile. “That’s exactly what I mean. We’re just not… compatible.”

Jake looked deflated. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you to it, then. Sorry for…” he gestured vaguely.

Dirk snorted. “I’m not going to pretend it was awful , Jake.”

The knight smiled. “Probably for the best, anyway. Getting close to time for the brawl.” Jake turned to leave, but Dirk grabbed his wrist.

“Actually, about your match… I have a favor I'd like to ask. And a tip.”

Jake quirked his eyebrow. “Oh?”

Karkat huffed at Dave when he got back, ignoring his swollen lips and ruffled hair and wrinkled clothes. “About time,” he said.

“Yeah, uh, sorry, dude. But hey, it hasn’t started yet, and that’s what counts, right?”

Karkat had never seen anyone smile so sheepishly. He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Not like you even need to be in there with me.”

“Hey, moral support is important, and I am here to support all your testy, testy morals.”

Karkat snorted.

They entered the waiting area and most of the other contestants were already there, some of them stretching in preparation for their matches. Fuck. Karkat should probably stretch, too.

He started doing reaches behind his back and glanced around the room. “No schedule, yet?” he asked.

He heard a low growl and jumped, then found its source. The wolf woman, Harley, was furiously searching behind benches and under cloaks and grumbling, “No schedule , no greaves , everything is missing !”

The others in the room were subtly shuffling out her way when she chose to search their area next.

“Said there was a last minute change,” Roxy Strider said, shrugging.

It seemed odd to Karkat, but everything seemed odd to Karkat, and he could recognize he was growing a little too paranoid. He shrugged as well and went back to stretching, adding in lunges and twists.

After a few more minutes, the announcer poked his head into the room. “Everyone here?” he asked, rhetorically as he began counting up the participants. He frowned at Dave. “You’re not in this event,” he said.

“Nope.”

For a moment, Karkat thought Dave was going to be kicked out, but the man continued counting, then referenced his sheet, then counted again, and said, “Has anyone seen Jake English? Of Prospit?”

Right on cue, the large man in yellow burst into the room. He was slightly out of breath as he said, “Sorry, am I late?”

Karkat wasn’t looking at him. Karkat wasn’t looking at him so hard he felt as though his eyeballs were about to pop out of their sockets so they could make sure never to look at him again. 

If Dave noticed, he didn’t say anything.

The announcer pursed his lips. “Alarmingly punctual,” he said. “You’re up first, sir.” He then affixed the schedule he was holding to the wall, then went out to announce the start of the competition.

Jake English vs Mituna Captor

Nepeta Leijon vs Jade Harley

Roxy Lalonde vs Domi Carmia

Karkat Vantas vs Kurloz Makara

Karkat was up last, and against the prince of Prospit, the man who had, so far, taken his opponents down in less than a handful of well aimed, forceful blows. He eyed the prince warily without thinking, and the prince just smiled back.

Sir English sought out Lord Captor and shook his hand firmly. “I look forward to our battle, milord. May the best man be the victor!”

Captor sneered. “I’m sure I will be.”

English laughed. “The confidence! We’ll see, my friend, we’ll see.”

The trumpet sounded, and the announcer gestured for the pair to make their way out.

They stood on opposite ends, Captor standing casually, arms loose at his sides, English posed in a crouch, arms out like he was about to tackle a bear.

The announcer moved to his ledge and the horn went off again.

English lunged at Captor, who dodged lazily to the right and smirked, then froze as the knight easily switched directions and tackled him to the ground.

Karkat felt nearly as shocked as Captor looked, sure he was in to watch the man embarrass another knight, despite the prince’s reassurance that he’d take care of it. Whatever that meant.

The noble managed to squirm his way out from under English and jump back a few paces, suddenly looking more and more distressed as the knight stood up, hunched over again and ready to lunge.

The two circled each other, staring each other down, and the more upset if not angry Lord Captor looked, the wider Sir English grinned.

Karkat was watching through the slits as they moved around the stadium. English was now opposite him, but moving inward and Karkat, who had still been a bit too embarrassed to look at the man too closely, spared a glance to his face and for a split second caught a glimpse of pale yellow coming from his eyes.

And it hit him.

They were both fucking cheating.

Chapter Text

Dave had become quite attuned to when a Karkat tantrum was starting, and as such, as soon as Karkat’s shoulders tensed and hands balled into fists Dave was next to him, a reassuring hand on his back.

“What’s up, ‘Kat?”

Karkat glanced at the people around him, but none seemed particularly interested in their conversation. Still, he kept his voice low as he asked, “You remember when I talked to you-know-who yesterday about you-know-what?”

Dave took a second to process, then his hand tensed on Karkat’s back. “I don’t like where this is headed, dude.”

“English is doing it, too.”

“What?”

Karkat grabbed the back of Dave’s head and pushed it down until it was at the same level as his own and angled it. “Watch. Don’t blink.”

English was looking smug and practically sauntered over to where Captor was hunched, teeth bared. The noble lunged at him, but for a split second, right before he dodged out of the way, there was a flicker of pale yellow again. 

Karkat looked to Dave for validation, but his friend only frowned. “Could have been a trick of the light, like a reflection of his stupid fucking outfit.” He didn’t sound like he was convinced, though.

Karkat looked back to the match and Lord Captor was now nursing his cheek as he circled English. He lunged forward again, and again another glimpse of pale yellow as English caught him in the belly with his fist.

“Hm,” Dave said.

Captor staggered back. Where in the last match he seemed to be in tune with his opponent, if not one step ahead, he now seemed one step behind. Every blow seemed to catch him by surprise.

English rushed toward him and Captor’s face scrunched up in anger and a burst of murky green leaked out from under his goggles, but another shimmer of light yellow responded from English’s eyes as he grabbed Captor in a bear hug and slammed him to the ground.

Karkat looked at Dave and raised his eyebrows forcefully.

“Fine, okay, you’re right,” Dave relented.

“So what should we do about it?”

“Man, nothing! It still looks like a normal match to the audience and the dude doesn’t seem to be cheating as much as he is preventing Lord Captor from doing it.”

Karkat grumbled wordlessly.

“Look, nothing good will come from calling this out, alright? Let’s just see how this plays out.”

Karkat frowned, but didn’t argue further.

Captor had managed to wiggle his way out from under English again. The pulses of light were now escaping his goggles every minute or so, and English’s eyes softly mirrored the pattern.

English threw another punch at Captor, who barely leapt out of the way in time. English’s fist collided with the wall behind the noble and there was a flash of green then a board popped out of place and flew toward English’s face. The knight side stepped it easily and his next punch connected with Captor’s jaw.

Captor was snarling.

High up in the stands, a member of the audience tripped as she was heading back to her seat. The helmet she had in hand flew out and down the crowd. Someone noticed and tried to catch it, but instead accidentally slammed it down harder, straight to English.

The knight dodged it again and shook his head at Captor, muddy green light now pouring out from behind his goggles while English’s eyes still flashed intermittently.

Captor sprinted to English and swept his leg up, connecting with the knight’s side. The knight staggered a bit, but grabbed Captor’s leg and slammed him to the ground.

Captor bounced up quickly and dashed up and kicked again, this time managing to jump back before English could grab him.

English was able to dodge a few of them, but Captor was relentless.

The change in tactics was strange to Karkat. Had the noble given up on his powers? No, he still looked like he was concentrating very hard on something. His attacks also seemed to only come from specific angles. Was he leading English somewhere?

Captor was breathing heavily, now a few paces away from English who was poised and waiting. The noble then ran toward English and jumped and kicked, his feet hitting the knight square in the middle, and he staggered back until he hit the wall while the noble fell hard, failing to catch himself after his kick.

Then there was a groan and a crack and Karkat realized where English had been led-- the announcer’s ledge above him was breaking and falling and--

Time stopped. Dirk took the extra seconds to get his heart rate under control. He looked to the door to the waiting area and saw Strider standing in the doorway. The knight gestured impatiently to the mess happening before him then went back inside the room.

Dirk leapt down from his booth, rolling as he hit the ground and got to work.

He grabbed the announcer from his post and hauled him to the far side of the stadium. He did the same with Jake, with considerable more difficulty -- the man was dense .

As for the cheating lord, he dragged Captor a few feet away from the impact site and stood with one foot on his chest.

Dirk waited for his breathing to get under control, straightened out his clothes and hair a bit, wiped away some sweat, then nodded to the waiting area. He looked down at Lord Captor and repressed a shiver as time started again.

-- Prince Diederik was there in the middle of it all. English and the announcer were safe to one side of the ring while the noble was literally under the prince’s heel as the stand crashed a few feet away.

Gasps and murmurs and even a few screams rippled through the crowd.

“What the fuck ? He’s an aspect user, too? What the fuck was that?” Karkat was practically yelling, but he looked to Dave, who had his eyes screwed shut and was pinching the bridge of his nose and shrugged.

Oh, right. Dave didn’t like this aspect bullshit anymore than he did.

Prince Diederik was looking down at the noble beneath him, his face impassive. “You’re a cheat, Lord Captor.”

Captor spit. “I was unarmed, wasn’t I?”

“You could have killed someone.”

“Good thing you stepped in, then,” the noble sneered.

Prince Diederik looked at the crowd. “Lord Mituna of house Captor has forfeited his match for using his aspect against his opponent and risking the lives of nonparticipants. Sir Jake English of Prospit advances to the semifinals.”

The prince removed his foot from the noble and made his way out and around, back up to his booth. English bowed to the crowd then attempted to help Captor up, but the noble smacked his hand away and scrambled up on his own.

The announcer, seemingly finally regaining composure after the sudden turn of events, said, “There will be a, ah, brief respite as we quickly fix any damages that could further hinder your safety or the next match. Thank you for your patience,” then scrambled off to find any workers to help with that.

Karkat was steaming. “English was doing it, too! Why does he get a pass? Just because his majesty--” he stopped himself.

Dave laid a hand on his arm. “Not worth it, dude. Besides, do you think that English guy was cheating in his other match?”

Karkat begrudgingly shook his head.

“Then as long as he doesn’t cheat in his next, I think it’s fine.”

Karkat knew that sounded rational, but he also knew about the prince’s bias toward that particular knight. What if this wouldn’t be the last time his majesty ruled in favor of the Prospitian? And why did he think the best solution to solve cheating was with more cheating ?

Karkat wanted to go confront him again, but Dave was right. Best to leave it be for now. Plus, the instant anger that let him leave his senses long enough to ambush royalty was not currently coursing through his veins and, though he wouldn’t admit it, he was mortified he had done it at all.

“Well that was quite an opening act!” said a squeaky voice.

Karkat turned and saw it was one of the masked women who had spoken. The not-Other-Strider.

“Afraid you can’t top it?” the wolf fey asked, grinning.

“I’m afraid I might trounce you too quickly, if that’s what you mean,” the masked woman-- Leijon?-- replied, mirroring her grin.

The pair burst into laughter and began chatting amicably, with the occasional taunt thrown in for good measure.

Karkat slumped onto a bench and hoped the repairs would be over soon.

Chapter Text

Dirk was thankful the repairs were over quickly enough. Sure, the announcer didn't get his ledge rebuilt, but that could wait until after the quarterfinals were done, and something told Dirk the man wasn't all too eager to be up on it again anyway.

But the next match was starting, and that meant Dirk had to stop berating himself endlessly for how the first match went and instead focus his attention on something else.

Leijon and Harley were walking out onto the field laughing with each other, then separated to their opposite sides, poised on the balls of their feet.

The trumpet went off and they sprung at each other in unison, but Harley was practically jumping with each step and quickly crossed the halfway point and to Leijon and tackled her to the ground.

She held her down while Leijon kicked up with her feet until one found purchase under Harley’s ribs and shoved her off, only to pounce on her instead.

Leijon was trying to twist Harley onto her back to pin her down, but Harley got one knee underneath her and shoved up and back and launched them both back, slamming Leijon down while Harley landed on top of her.

They both lay there for a moment, winded, but Harley recovered first and flipped over and wrestled Leijon's arms behind her back and tried to sit in her legs, but the masked woman ripped one free and slammed it into Harley so hard she rolled a few paces and struggled to get up.

Leijon didn't wait until she was steady and attacked as soon as she was up, grabbing Harley at her middle and tried to slam her into the ground again, but Harley kneed up sharply until Leijon let go, almost collapsing to the ground herself.

The fey sidestepped to move behind Leijonthen grabbed around her middle and throat and seemed to be trying to push her to the ground.

Leijon clawed at Harley's arm and managed to get enough leverage to bite down hard on her forearm.

Harley yelped and jumped back.

Dirk stood up, ready to intercede when Harley let out a growl and jumped back at the masked woman and dug her teeth into her shoulder.

The match turned chaotic after that.

Bite and scratch marks dotted any exposed skin and any piece of cloth that poked out of their armor was shredded. They were bloody and panting and more than once Dirk almost called it off but the look on their faces stopped him. They were feral and they were intense and they were gleeful and Dirk honestly wondered if he could separate them without Strider's assistance (either one of them). So he didn't try, even as the announcer looked to him more and more frantically.

Finally, they dashed against each other one last time, both tumbling to the ground, rolling and rolling and clawing and grabbing and then they stopped.

And Dirk waited, the anticipation of the crowd practically palpable.

And Harley rose on unsteady feet and looked over the masked woman who groaned but did not get up.

The fey raised one fist in the air as she was declared the winner and then she fell back to the ground and the physician and a few assistance rushed to take them off the field.

Next up were Roxy and Lady Carmia, one of three of his nobles left in any of the events.

He did not expect this match to go well for her.

A small bell above Dirk rang, signaling someone at the foot of the stairs requested his presence. He tugged on a cord to ring the bell next to them to give the consent to ascend.

A servant appeared and bowed deeply while holding out a scroll. "A report form the guards," she said.

Dirk took the scroll and dismissed the servant before unrolling it.

He frowned at the contents.

Half a dozen vendors reported missing items, several more missing money. But the guards have not noticed anyone especially suspicious "who had not already been verified by his majesty in attendance at the tournament." It lacked in subtlety but the point was made. Dirk needed to talk to Roxy.

He looked back in time to watch Roxy dropkick the noble, who swung a fist back as Roxy got in top of her, then twist that arm behind her back and flip her around until she had Carmia on her stomach, one arm bent back and one of Roxy's knees digging into her spine 

Well, that didn't take long.

Four of his own subjects left of thirteen competitors. He tried to not let it bother him--Vantas was the only one who really mattered--but it irked him to see last minute entrants, most without his knowledge much less permission, put his knights and nobles to shame.

But as long as Vantas won this next match…

Hands clapped on Karkat's shoulders and he jumped, then glared at the culprit.

"Chill," Dave said. "You got this, dude."

Karkat was still frowning, but he appreciated the words.

He took a deep breath and walked out with the prince of Prospit.

They took their positions at opposite sides of the stadium, the prince smiling, arms hanging loose at his sides, and Karkat with his legs braced for impact.

They were announced and the horn sounded and Karkat lunged forward.

He feinted to the left then swung with his right, aiming for Kurloz's side, but Kurloz dodged out of the way and swung back. Karkat ducked and felt the rush of air as the punch went over his head but he didn't stop to think, he launched forward from his crouched position and slammed head and shoulders into the prince's middle, driving him back a few steps.

Karkat locked one arm around Kurloz and punched his side repeatedly with the other as he pushed him back further and further. If he could get Kurloz pinned to the wall, maybe…

The Prospitian recovered from his shock and slammed a fist into Karkat's spine.

The knight's arm released and he dropped to his knees, his breath knocked out of him.

The next fist was coming, he knew that somewhere in his oxygen-deprived and pain filled brain. He had seen it a handful of times now. One, two, and you were down.

His brain whirled, trying to connect what he needed to do with action.

Which way would the first come from?

Which fist had just hit him?

Didn't matter--he needed to move.

The signals finally fired to his limbs and he pushed, rolling to the right, the prince's next blow barely grazing his side.

It had been an elbow.

Fuck.

Get up.

Karkat scrambled backward, or sideways, or something until he hit the wall.

He had driven Kurloz closer to it than he had realized.

He used the leverage to stand on his legs, which were slowly feeling sturdier beneath him.

Faster, he needed to recover faster.

It took two strides of the Prospitian prince's long legs to get him over to where Karkat was leaning, panting and still in pain.

He looked… perturbed?

Karkat took inventory of his limbs. What worked? What could be made to work? What did he need to save?

Fuck it. Dave always told him he had a thick skull.

He leveraged his heels against the wall and pushed himself off, headbutting the prince in the gut.

He locked both arms around his middle this time and pulled him to the ground.

Kurloz may be taller, but Karkat was bigger.

They collapsed to the ground with a thud and Karkat quickly pinned the prince's arms to the ground by his elbows, leaning all his weight on them.

For a split second they looked to be in a stalemate, Karkat using his whole body to make sure Kurloz couldn't move. The second he released anything to make a move, the prince would be on top of him.

But Karkat didn't take that split second to think that.

Karkat used his thick skull for other purposes.

He slammed his forehead into Prince Kurloz's face and his stomach turned as he felt his nose crunch beneath it.

Dizzy and aching, he couldn't keep upright, so he let himself roll off of the prince and waited with bated breath for him to get up and deal the finishing blow.

One, two, three seconds passed and nothing came.

Karkat looked his head to the side to look at the prince and he wasn't moving except for the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.

Karkat used the last of his strength to throw his fist in the air in triumph, then, just as his victory was being declared, he blacked out.

Chapter Text

The physician looked nervously at the pair of advisors who were decidedly not looking at anything, least of all the prince and his cousin standing across from them in the cramped room.

"When will they recover?" The prince asked.

The physician's head jerked back to the prince then down and to the side to avoid eye contact. "Full recovery could take weeks, highness, I--"

"When will they be well enough to fight?"

"Fight? They fey girl, maybe soon as her injuries were less severe, but I'm not as familiar with her… anatomy." She glanced at the seer who simply smiled. "But Sir Vantas did substantial damage to himself after he was hit in the spine, pushed past limits he shouldn't have, I have no--"

"When?"

The amount the physician was sweating would put Lord Equius to shame. "If possible not until his full recovery, I--"

"Weeks. Weeks…" The prince was now muttering to himself, frowning deeply. "Is he awake? Can he stand?"

"I wouldn't advise--"

"Can he stand?"

"Cousin…" the seer placed a hand on his arm but he shrugged it off and stared at the physician.

She looked between the seer and prince, uncertain of her best move. "Yes, but--"

"Good. Good." Prince Diederik turned his attention to his advisors. "The combat semifinals will be pushed to tomorrow and the finals will be pushed to the day after. This will leave only one day for the celebration, but we'll make it work. Make the announcement."

"Your highness, surely it would be better to--" one of the advisors began.

The prince simply stared at him and he shut his mouth with a clack.

"Yes, sire," the other said.

The pair bowed and let themselves out.

"Tend to your patients and tell them of the change," the prince said, turning back to the physician.

"I will… let them know the option is… available. But," she paused and dabbed her face and attempted to look resolute, "I will advise them against participating tomorrow, especially for the knight. This is… this is just a tournament, highness."

Prince Diederik nodded. "Do as you must."

He then nodded to the seer and the pair left the small office.

The archery semifinals were already being set up, so the prince started to head there, but his cousin grabbed his wrist and tugged him to the far side of the grandstand that was facing away from the festivities.

"Dirk, what are you doing ?" she asked, exasperated.

"I'm making sure the tournament can--"

"You know that's not what this is about. Or are you really risking one of your most talented knights on a vanity contest?"

Dirk was silent for a moment.

"I need him, Rose. It has to be him."

" Why ?"

Dirk didn't answer.

Rose rubbed her temples. "You're an idiot," she said. Then she sighed. "Look, I don't know if this will work, I'm barely sure it will work for Jade, but at least she's connected to the forest, but if you're going to insist on going this route… I think Feferi can help."

Dave had been staring Karkat down since shortly after he woke up. In the first few seconds, he had a look of immense relief, but now it was frozen into a poker face, removed of emotion, though Karkat could feel the waves of disappointment rolling off of him.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do, Dave?" he asked for the dozenth time. "I guess I could have just thrown in the towel and fucking lost like I had planned," he grumbled.

Dave let out a hum of approval.

"Oh, fuck off! You're the one who told me not to!"

"I said you wouldn't," Dave countered, the first words he had spoken in half an hour, "and apparently I was right, even at the risk of--" he gestured to one of the physician's assistants who was tending to Harley.

"Permanent paralysis and brain damage, at worst," she filled in.

Dave looked at Karkat pointedly.

Karkat huffed. "I'm fine, though! That's what counts."

Harley snorted and Karkat shot a glare in her direction.

Dave frowned and didn't say anything.

Karkat was about to start up the argument again, because at least then Dave would fucking talk to him, but he was preemptively interrupted by the physician coming into the room, forehead damp with sweat and quickly straightening out a nervous look from her face.

"Ahem," she began, as if the whole of the room wasn't already looking at her. "There is something his majesty has instructed me to inform you of, but first there is something you, Sir Vantas and you, L--er-- Harley must keep in mind. This tournament has no stakes beyond a bit of gold and an ego boost. Sir Vantas, you will still be a knight of high respect once this is all done. I'm sure it will be mostly forgotten about in but a few months. The injuries you both have sustained are significant, though admittedly Harley's to a lesser degree. Please keep all this in mind for what I must tell you next." She paused and looked between her patients as though trying to force the message into their skulls with her eyes.

"Please get on with it," Karkat groaned, hoping his spike of anxiety wasn't apparent in his voice.

The physician looked at him evenly. "I have been told to inform you both, and I suppose you as well, Sir Strider, as this does affect you, that the semi finals have been moved to tomorrow and the finals the day after in order to give Sir Vantas and Harley extra time to recover if they still wished, against my recommendation , to participate in the tournament."

Harley let out a bark of a laugh. "Like that was even a question! I've fought after worse than this plenty of times!"

The assistant attending Harley pressed down slightly on the shoulder she was bandaging and the fey yelped, then looked very sheepish, her wolf ears tilting down and back. "Maybe a night's rest wouldn't hurt," she admitted 

"Well there's no way Karkat's going to I mean--" Dave began, then he looked to his friend who was chewing his lip thoughtfully. " Karkat what the fuck !"

"I'm just thinking about it! I mean, you're the one who said I should try to win this thing!"

"I cannot stress enough that again I did not say that but if I did that was barring you almost giving yourself a brain injury you dense piece of shit!"

Karkat is not sure he had ever heard Dave yell. It wasn't the unrestrained volume of his own yell, but it was loud and it was intense and it hit his lungs more than his ears and he didn't particularly want to have that directed at him again.

But that didn't stop him from growling back. "I can fucking take care of myself, Dave!"

The physician sighed loudly. "Please," she said very tiredly, "please just wait and decide tomorrow. Sometimes it can take time to see the full extent of your injuries."

“Okie dokie!” Harley said.

“Fine,” Karkat grumbled, not looking at Dave.

They could wait to argue more about this in the morning.

Dirk didn't see Strider in the crowd, but he supposed that was to be expected. He saw Rose sitting with Feferi, both looking a mix of worried and agitated. Rose muttered something to the water fey and she shot a dirty look at him.

Nothing new.

Lord Egbert and Sir Nitram were up first, Egbert trying to keep conversation with the knight while also scanning the crowd. He apparently couldn't find who he was looking for, because he soon engaged fully, then jumped a bit and laughed as the first trumpet sounded.

The two readied themselves, then their arrows flew as soon as they heard the second blast.

Egbert's hit the very edge of the bullseye while Nitram's was a bit farther into the first ring.

The noble's second hit right next to his first.

Nitram's came seconds after, hitting into the side of Egbert's second arrow. Egbert's tilted away from the impact, but held in place.

The knight slouched a bit in his chair for just a second, then loosed his last arrow and Egbert did the same.

Both flirted in the edges of the bullseye, but with Nitram's farther out first shot, Egbert was the winner.

He looked through the crowd again, this time only for a few seconds, before he headed off and away from the event.

Nitram rolled up to Jake, who clapped him on the shoulder and walked off with him toward the line of food booths.

Dirk ignored his suddenly grumbling belly. There was a second match to watch.

Kanaya and Roxy were next. Roxy chatted up the winged fey, but Kanaya didn't seem to be quite as engaged in conversation, instead counting her arrows and looking perturbed. 

The first horn sounded and she shook her head and readied herself as did Roxy.

Then the second blast came and they both still stood there, Kanaya's hand hovering at her quiver and Roxy's on her bow, not yet stretched taut.

Another few breaths and Kanaya grabbed an arrow and shot, Roxy right after.

They both hit within the bullseye.

Another breath and Kanaya let her next two shots fly, one on each side of Roxy's first.

Roxy stared at the target for a few moments, then breathed in and the second arrow hit the edge of the cluster, a little farther out of the middle of the bullseye.

Another pause then she aimed and fired and hit dead center.

An attendant went up to measure the shots and add up the points, then turned and raised his left arm, signaling Roxy had won.

The masked woman sighed heavily and bent forward, as though the tension has been keeping her standing up.

She straightened and held out her hand to Kanaya, who grabbed it and held it firmly.

Roxy laughed and tugged her forward into a hug, careful around her wings.

Kanaya patted her on the back then gestured over to where Rose and Feferi were sitting when Roxy released her, but Roxy shook her head and walked off to where the masked man, Invocador, was sitting waiting for her.

And that was it.

The day was cut short, though the merchants would keep their stands open as planned.

Dirk just had to hope that whatever it was Feferi was going to do would be enough or else the past several months were for nothing.

But there was nothing he could do about it now.

The stakes were much lower, but he was almost just as restless as he was all those years ago in Derse.

He almost regretted burning the bridge of his old stress relief.

He shook his head.

No, this was for the best. He wasn't 20 anymore but he knew how easily he'd fall back into old habits.

Instead he would focus his energy on a back up plan.

There had to be another way, right?

Dirk ignored his gnawing stomach and headed back to the castle.

Chapter Text

It was pitch black when Karkat was woken up by the sound of movement in the tent he and Harley had been moved to for the night. The physician hadn't wanted to move him all the way back to the barracks just to come back here tomorrow, and Harley figured it was best to stay, too, so they were still on the grounds of the tournament, the physician's assistant sleeping nearby.

Dave wasn't here, though it took some convincing of their captain to get him to go. Karkat ended up having to promise not to make a decision until he got back.

Like that would change Karkat's mind.

There was another sound, like someone had bumped into one of the tables, followed by a soft, "Ow," and Karkat was suddenly on high alert.

He had thought before it was just the assistant moving about, but she had been familiar enough with the tent to not run into things and that "ow" didn't sound like her anyway.

Karkat reached down where his dagger normally was and cursed inwardly as he groped at nothing and remembered it had been set aside, maybe on the table the intruder just bumped into.

He moved to roll out of the cot and into a crouch but in his focus on the potential danger, he forgot about the reason he was there in the first place. He twisted and cried out as pain shot up his back and into his neck and fell back where he lay.

There was a sudden glow and a… twist of some sort in the space around him, and even though his surroundings looked the same, Karkat was somehow certain he was not in the same place he was before.

The glow stayed, a bright white ball several feet off the ground, and as it approached Karkat realized it was a face.

The glow dimmed as another joined it, pink and pulsing like a heartbeat.

It was the other two fey.

Karkat's conclusion was confirmed as the one glowing pink brought out some sort of spherical object and tapped it until it lit up the room with what seemed to be hundreds or thousands of constellations.

Or, it seemed to light up the room.

Karkat could only see a few feet in any direction, enough distance to see Harley in the cot next to him and the two fey in front of him, but anything beyond was so black it felt like it wasn't there at all.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.

"You're Vantas, right?" Maryam asked back.

Karkat nodded.

"Lie still. We're here to help."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

In response, Peixis moved toward him and Karkat instinctively jerked back, another cry of pain leaving his lips as his body throbbed at the movement. But as soon as the water fey put her hands on him, the pain reduced to a dull ache.

Karkat's stomach dropped. "What did you do?" he hissed.

Peixis frowned. "A thank you would have been nice."

" What did you do ?" he asked again, more forcefully.

"I'm a healer. I'm here to help you heal so you don't kill yourself in tomorrow's matches!" She still sounded bubbly but there was an undercurrent of a bite in her tone.

"I don't need an aspect advantage to win." Karkat was caught between anger and panic. Her hand was still on him and though his pain was lessened, he could feel it spike back when he tried moving too much followed by another wave dampening it. It was unsettling, to say the least.

"That's not what this is, Vantas."

Now Maryam's hand was on him, but he didn't feel the same pulse of energy coming from her.

It soothed him, somewhat.

"Feferi, darling, wake Jade up. Maybe a demonstration will help."

Feferi did as she was asked and Karkat almost sighed in relief as the aspect stopped flowing through him, even if any new jolt of pain stayed sharp and nagging.

Feferi bent down and kissed Jade's forehead, murmuring something to her, and her ears twitched as she stretched and sat up with Feferi's assistance.

She smiled sleepily at her fellow fey then started when she noticed Karkat.

"Him, too?" she asked.

"Special request," Feferi said, sighing.

Jade looked like she wanted to say something else, but stopped herself.

"Let's get started, shall we? The sooner Jade can pick up some of the weight of this place, the better," Maryam said.

Peixis nodded, then took Jade's face in her hands and closed her eyes.

Pink and green and white auras began pulsing from her hands and Karkat stared. He looked between her eyes and her hands but while there was a little bit of green coming from beneath her eyelids, it wasn't as much as there should be.

"How--"

"Hush," Maryam interrupted. She moved her hand to his own and squeezed it lightly.

Karkat shut his mouth and watched as bite and scratch marks closed and bruises lightened. Harley sighed in contentment and leaned into the water fey's hands.

Soon, the glowing stopped, and Feferi removed her hands and gave room for Harley to stretch.

Harley slid off the cot and did just that, her wolf ears perked up and tail wagging lightly. She was covered in pink scars and light yellow bruises and she groaned as she cracked her back. "Good as new!" she said happily.

Maryam smiled. "Do try not to get quite so feral next time, love. You worry us sick."

Harley wrinkled her nose. "I'm fine, Kan! Can't a girl have a little fun ?"

"A little," Maryam conceded, smirking.

Jade bounced over to Maryam and wrapped her arms around her and kissed her cheek, then slung out an arm and pulled Feferi in and kissed her as well.

Maryam let go of Karkat's hand and hugged back.

After a few moments of nuzzles and giggles, Karkat cleared his throat.

The three let go of each other and looked at him.

"Sorry, whatsyourname, would you like a kiss, too?" Harley asked.

"Karkat Vantas and no but if you three are done, maybe leave so I can go back to sleep or, alternatively, wake up from this weird as fuck dream?"

Maryam patted his hand and said, "You're right we have been neglecting you. Do you feel better about what's to come?"

Karkat frowned. "Does it matter? It's sounding like I don't have a choice in this."

"Your choice is this, sweet," Feferi said, smiling with those sharp rows of teeth, "you can refuse my healing and forfeit the match tomorrow, but the look you just gave me tells me that's not an option." Karkat tried to smooth out his face as the fey smirked at him. "Or you can refuse my healing, fight in your matches, and either lose spectacularly seconds in or injure yourself so badly you can no longer stay a knight. You know, like you almost did today!" She smiled brightly again. "Oorrrrr… you can suck up whatever issues you have with aspects or whatever it is you call my magic, let me heal you as best I can, and maybe not make a fool of yourself or die tomorrow. What will it be?"

Karkat mulled this over for a few moments. "What's the catch?"

"Catch?" the water fey asked, her smile almost dangerous. She leaned in, her face inches from his own. "Do you think I'm trying to trick you, little one? Do you think I'm going to take your name or your voice or your beating heart?" With the last, she jabbed a finger into his chest and he let out a yelp. Feferi just laughed. 

Maryam put a hand on Feferi's shoulder. "The favor is not for you, Karkat, so you owe us nothing. The only 'catch', if you wish to call it that, is Feferi has not healed someone from outside the forest. At least," she said thoughtfully, "not someone who wasn't more in tune with it. Or us. Or at the very least their 'aspect'. There may be complications. We simply don't know."

Karkat chewed his lip. Then he sighed. "Do it."

Feferi smiled sharply again. "Close your eyes."

"Why?" Karkat asked suspiciously.

Maryam grabbed his hand again, softly squeezing with one and patting it with the other. "Do as she says, Karkat."

He relaxed and closed his eyes.

Feferi put her hands on either side of his face and lightly placed her thumbs on his eyelids.

It felt like liquid was pouring through him. Like Feferi was using him as a sift in the river as cool trickles of energy flowed from her into him.

He wanted to shudder but the weight of her presence held him down and still.

The water--the energy--whatever was cold, too cold. The type of cold that hurt and numbed and ached with every breath.

A groan built up deep in his chest but he couldn't tell if it was audible because the rushing of his blood filled his ears.

He squeezed his eyes and could see it--his blood--that pulsing ooze within himself.

It shimmered with the aura Feferi was giving off earlier but it only made it look diseased.

He watched, unable to do anything else, as it lapped at his fractured bones and under his bruises and scrapes.

He couldn't tell if the water was still ice cold or boiling hot, but he burned with each pulse.

He screamed. He was pretty sure he screamed because the blood filled his throat to fix the rawness from how loud it must have been.

He thought he felt another hand on his chest, pressing down, and he wanted to flinch away but the pressure calmed him somehow. He could feel the pulse from the other person slow and steady and his heart ached to match its rhythm.

So it slowed.

And his breathing slowed.

And he started to feel very far away.

And the blood stopped looking so much like his own.

He sat on the shores of that shimmering,  bloody current surging through him and he felt at home.

Chapter Text

"Morning, sleepy ass," a voice said, breaking through the grogginess weighing on Karkat as he struggled to open his eyes.

"Dave?" he asked.

Dave chuckled. "Yeah, who else, man?"

"I thought…" Karkat looked around the tent and frowned. Wasn't someone else supposed to be here?

"Harley got up about an hour ago and that assistant is checking in on Prince Kurloz and that masked chick. She'll be back in a few."

That must be who was missing. "What time is it?"

"You still have a couple hours before armed semifinals start. Plenty of time to get you up and fed and see how you feel." Dave kept his tone neutral, but concern crept in as he asked, "How do you feel? You look… better." It did not sound like a good thing.

Karkat sat up and stretched, twisting to each side to test. "I feel better," he said, surprised. "My back is still a bit sore, but…" He pressed tentatively on his chest and sides. It hurt, but not more than pressing on an old bruise would hurt.

He remembered purple bruises fading to yellow but he couldn't place the source.

He shrugged. "The miracles of modern medicine, I guess."

Dave still didn't look particularly happy. "I guess. Let's get you some food."

He helped Karkat off the couch and into fresh clothes. Karkat could move well enough, but he was still a little wobbly as though he had to get reused to having limbs and struggled getting his tight undershirt over his head. But by the time he got to lacing up his boots, most of his coordination was back. Still, he leaned on the arm Dave offered as they made their way out of the tent and into a crowd of knights.

Karkat looked at Dave and then back to the knights who were now all simultaneously asking him how he was doing and wishing him a good morning and berating him and so many other things, all overlapping one another.

Dave shrugged, smiling. "I'm not the only one worried about your fragile ass."

"How do you feel?" one asked.

"I'm good, I think. I just woke up?"

"How did that cut already scar over?" asked another, pulling at the collar of his shirt to get a better look at what was once a scrape on his collar bone.

"Uh… I'm not a physician. You'd have to ask her."

"Are you competing today?" Jandi asked.

The other knights were quiet for a moment, then quickly started arguing with each other over whether he should or not.

Karkat raised his hands in front of himself defensively and looked desperately at Dave. "Where's the captain?"

"She didn't want to influence your decision this morning so she's leaving you be."

"Fat lot of good that did," Karkat grumbled. "Okay then." He took a deep breath then yelled, "SHUT YOUR FUCKING SHIT SPEWERS SO I CAN GET A GODDAMNED WORD IN!"

The knights shut up and looked at him and Karkat tried to not rub his throat. It was really sore for some reason. 

"I just woke up like two fucking minutes ago so if you shits for brains can give me like a fucking hour to get my bearings maybe I can actually have space to breathe and decide what I'm going to do instead of trying to think while you flock of nagging hens use up my oxygen with your blathering!"

Several of the knights ducked their heads. "Sorry, Karkat," they all murmured.

"You heard sleeping beauty. Now go make yourselves busy while I get some food in him and maybe he can answer you properly when he's not so hangry."

"This is him hangry? I didn't notice a difference," someone snickered.

Karkat shot a glare into the crowd and they all burst into half-suppressed laughter as they parted for Karkat and Dave to make their way through them and to the food booths, a sickly sweet feeling twisting its way in Karkat's chest.

Then Karkat realized where Dave was leading him and rolled his eyes as they made a bee-line to the pie stall. He may have sucked face with Lord Egbert but apparently ogling the head of the baker's guild wasn't out of the question.

But then Dave stopped abruptly and Karkat quickly saw why.

"And just where is my basket?" Master Crocker was waving a large wooden spoon at one of the only other people mingling in the area while it was still fairly early in the morning. 

"I lost it. In the woods," Prince Diederik replied.

"You lost it in the woods," Crocker repeated.

Karkat suddenly remembered the prince's excursion to the woods yesterday and felt the tips of his ears heat up.

"You will be compensated, of course."

"That's hardly the point! Everyone's losing everything these days. Damien lost my good pair of scissors while fixing up a new beaded shawl for Lady Carmia who was only getting it because she lost the one she had that morning. And someone nicked a half dozen pies!"

"Are you sure you didn't lose them?"

If Karkat took his majesty for a person with a sense of humor, he might have thought he was joking just then, but his face was as blank as ever.

"And now you've lost my basket!" Crocker continued, ignoring the prince.

"I really did lose it, Master Crocker, through my own fault. The other instances are being looked into."

Karkat's ears perked up at that and even Dave seemed to stiffen beneath him.

"But I believe I am preventing other customers from approaching. Excuse me." He bowed his head to the guild leader then headed for the pair of knights.

"Sir Strider, Sir Vantas. You seem to be doing better."

If Dave was stiff before, he was a statue now.

"I am, majesty," Karkat answered warily.

"And will I see you in the semifinals this afternoon?"

"Yes, majesty."

Dave twisted his head to him so quickly Karkat thought his neck might snap. "Karkat--"

"Good. I will be looking forward to it. Until then, Sir Vantas. Sir Strider." He nodded to them both and continued on past them.

Dave did not relax as he left, not until the pair kept on and stood in front of the baker's booth and breathed in the scent of fresh fruit pies.

"Eat up, dears," Master Crocker said. "Big day ahead."

Karkat and Dave dutifully did as they were told, Dave now quiet for another reason as he blushed whenever Crocker looked his way.

Karkat downed his first pie in three bites, and grabbed greedily for the second he was offered.

"Hungry today, are we?" Crocker chuckled.

Karkat nodded and accepted a third pie, this one minced meat.

"Dude," Dave said, staring at him.

Karkat shrugged, suddenly self conscious even as he debated asking for a fourth. "I'm a growing boy, Dave, what do you want?"

"It's fine, dearie. I hear you had quite the fight and healing takes a lot of energy!" Crocker said as she handed him another pie. "But no more after this one. Don't want you getting sick all over the field."

Karkat nodded as he ate. Four pies was probably enough, anyway.

They thanked Master Crocker for the pies and set off to do a lap around the grounds, Karkat now able to do so without leaning on Dave.

“What do you think the prince meant about those ‘instances’ being looked into?” Karkat asked.

“What the fuck did you mean about you definitely competing today?” Dave shot back. "Thought you needed time to think?"

Karkat looked at him, but he was looking straight ahead. His expression and body language suggested it was a casual question, and that unnerved Karkat.

“I have thought about it and I’m fine, Dave. I mean, look at me! Everything’s almost completely healed, and I feel good .”

“And isn’t that a little fucking convenient?”

Karkat frowned. “Convenient for who?”

Dave shook his head. “Nothing. It’s weird, though. Please tell me you know this is weird as balls.”

Karkat shrugged. It was weird. Karkat felt weird. He wasn’t lying to Dave when he said he felt good, but it was so good it was off putting. Like his blood sang in his veins.

Now there was a mental image Karkat could do without. He rubbed his arms reflexively.

But Dave was right. He knew Dave was right. He kept getting flashes of something telling him what was going on, but his mind slid over it every time he tried to focus in.

“I thought you told me to stop with the conspiracy theories.”

Dave shoved him, but not angirly. “Is this what we’re doing now? You throwing my words back in my face?”

Karkat shoved back and smirked. “If you keep going against your own advice, sure.”

Dave sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fine. Have it your way. But stay on your toes, ‘Kat. This is personal now.”

Karkat wanted to retort that it was personal before, when Dave seemed to be the obvious target of… whatever the prince was up to. But, in a rare moment of reading the mood, he bit his tongue.

They made their way around the perimeter until the physician's tent was in sight again, the crowd of knights no longer huddled around it.

The pair went inside to finish gathering Karkat's things to prepare him for his upcoming match and was greeted by a shrill, "THERE you are!"

The physician, her assistant, Harley, and Maryam were huddled in the tent and watched Karkat as he entered.

"Uh, hi?"

The physician pursed her lips. "You really shouldn't be out of bed with your injuries. Where did you run off to?"

"I was hungry."

"And he's fine. Looks like your meds did the trick."

She quirked an eyebrow at Dave. "What do you mean, I didn't…" She trailed off as she looked Karkat up and down, then began poking and prodding his previous injuries. "How…"

"Miracles of modern medicine," Dave said.

She frowned at him. "This shouldn't be possible. For Jade Harley it made some amount of sense--she's a fey-- but for you…" The physician tapped her chin. "Did the presence of a fey somehow increase his healing factor? Harley! Would you mind--"

"I'm afraid we must leave, ma'am. Must get prepared for her match, you know how it is," Kanaya interjected.

"Quite. Maybe after…?"

Kanaya was already tugging Harley out of the tent. "Of course, of course. Maybe after."

The physician watched them leave despondently.

Karkat took that as his cue to leave, too. "We best be off, too. Thanks for your help."

The physician nodded absently then turned to talk to her assistant.

Well.

That's that, then.

Dave helped Karkat grab his things and they were off to the grandstand.

Waiting outside the entrance to the fighters' room was Maryam. She nodded politely at Dave then fixed her eyes on Karkat. "A word?"

Karkat and Dave looked at each other in confusion.

"Uh. Sure?" Karkat said. "I'll see you inside, Dave."

Dave hesitated, but left the two alone.

Maryam gestured for Karkat to walk with her and they did, beginning to circle the grandstand. 

"How do you feel?" she finally asked after a few moments of walking in silence.

"Fine. Why?" he asked warily.

She paused and studied his face. "Karkat, do you remember last night?"

Something rubbed against his consciousness but didn't quite break through. "I was asleep? What happened last night?"

Maryam sighed. "I was afraid this might happen." 

" What might happen? What are you talking about?"

She shushed him and walked for another minute in quiet contemplation. Then she shook her head.

"I suppose it doesn't matter. You're doing better and that's what counts."

Karkat stared at her in confusion but she remained silent as they walked.

They reached the entrance to the eating area again and Kanaya said, "I'll be with Rose, the seer, if you need me. At least for the next few months."

"Why would I --?"

"You'll know if you do. I'll do my best to keep an eye on you besides." She patted his head affectionately. "Do take care, Karkat, dear. And I'm glad you're feeling better."

With that, she entered the room and headed to Peixes and Karkat followed behind over to Dave.

"What was that about?" Dave asked.

"I have no fucking idea. Just another weird thing happening in this disaster of a festival."

"Cheers to that."

Karkat helped Dave get his armor on and secured, his brow furrowed in what he hoped came across as concentration rather than concern.

The elephant in the room was the tall, painted royalty who seemed more than recovered from yesterday's fight and ready to face off against Dave.

The elephant in the room was Karkat, blacked out, bloody, and broken on the field yesterday, having pushed past what felled others in order to win.

The elephant in the room was Karkat double and triple checking each strap, fiddling with joints and gauntlets just a little more than necessary.

"Karkat," Dave said.

"Kick his ass," Karkat grunted in reply.

Then the trumpet sounded and the elephant in the room left, the prince following close behind.

Chapter Text

Rose was sitting with him again. Dirk wanted to be suspicious of it, but mostly he was just comforted and hoped that's why she was there.

Strider and Kurloz were pacing circles around each other but Strider was clearly the more tense of the two.

Dirk wondered how Kurloz had healed so quickly, but Prospitians and Dersite were odd folk to say the least, especially any with a drop of royal blood in them. His nose didn't seem to have set right, though, and that gave Dirk some amount of satisfaction.

Dirk started as Rose clicked her tongue.

"He's too afraid. He needs to make a move."

Dirk hummed in agreement. 

As though he heard them, Strider darted forward, sword pointed straight ahead like a javelin.

As soon as he was in range, Kurloz twisted to the side and swung a club at Strider's shoulder, but the knight ducked into a roll and sprung back up a few feet away. 

They paced around each other again, their spiral tightening and loosening and tightening again.

Dirk wondered if maybe he should have set a time limit on these matches.

After a few more moments, Strider dashed forward again, dropping into a roll as soon as he got in range.

Kurloz was expecting it and slammed a club down next to him, but Strider wasn't there, having instead rolled off to the side again rather than trying to come up next to the prince.

In the heartbeat between Kurloz slamming his club and lifting it back up when he realized it didn't connect, Strider was at his back. He swung low and brought the Prospitian to his knees, then in the same fluid movement, brought the sword back up to his throat.

Kurloz froze in place for a moment, then his face split into a wide open grin and he shook in silent laughter.

Strider stood there, sword held still, and waited.

Eventually Kurloz calmed and slammed his hand to the ground three times, signaling the knight's win.

Strider dropped his sword as his victory was announced, and moved to help the prince up, but he rose easily and turned to face Strider.

Uncertain, Strider held out his hand to shake Kurloz's, but Kurloz hooked a finger under Strider's chin and tilted it up, looking at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then he let the knight's chin drop and patted him on the head and walked off the field.

Strider stared after him for a few seconds, then followed behind.

Rose snorted. "Well, that was anticlimactic."

"He's smart. He learned from the other matches. Would you prefer he hadn't?"

Rose shrugged, smirking. "I wonder if your Sir Vantas has done the same. I hope so, for your sake."

Dirk stayed quiet.

"I know, Dirk."

"That's new."

Rose put a hand on his arm and he looked at her. He was expecting her usual smugness. Another smirk and a quip to set him straight. But instead her brow was slightly creased and her lips quirked down and that worried him.

"I know why it has to be him. The girls figured it out. It's not going to work."

Dirk's heart twisted but he remained impassive. "Did you See that?"

She shook her head. "I don't have to in order to know this."

"If you haven't Seen it, then you don't really know. And if you had? Well. We both know that can be wrong."

Rose looked hurt and Dirk turned away before he could feel guilty.

"I have to try," he said.

Rose squeezed his arm. "I know."

Karkat was still staring at the empty battlefield when Peixes walked up to him. “Glad to see you’re feeling better, Karkat.”

He rankled at the casual use of his first name, but when he turned to berate her, he paused. She had dark circles under her eyes and her smile seemed genuine, if tired. He wondered if this had anything to do with whatever apparently happened last night. “Yeah, thanks,” he finally said.

She sighed. “Don’t mention it. Ready?” She gestured to the waiting announcer.

Karkat nodded and followed her out.

They took their places opposite each other as their match was announced.

Peixes was twirling her polearm from one hand to the next while Karkat was braced in a crouch, falchion at the ready.

The trumpet sounded and the two launched at each other.

Karkat swiped at the fey’s shoulders, but she ducked under his blade and swept her polearm at his ankles.

He barely managed to skip over it and tumble into a roll behind her, but she was back at him in a second, jabbing her weapon at him which he had to twist side to side to escape.

Finally he swatted at it with his sword, catching it against the hilt and twisting it harshly away from him until he was able to scramble to his feet. Karkat wanted to put distance between himself and Peixes but he knew he could only get the advantage at short range.

Karkat swung out while the fey was still righting herself, clipping her hip and making her stagger forward.

She stuck out her polearm for balance like a walking stick, then she struck out with the bottom half to the back of Karkat’s knees.

He had been expecting another blow, though, so he didn’t buckle, and instead used that time to slice at her back, pushing her further into her motion than she was prepared for.

Peixes fell forward. She tried to twist as she fell, to aim her polearm at Karkat as she hit the ground, but the knight knocked it away with his falchion and moved it back to point at the base of her throat by the time she hit the ground.

The fey stared at him for a beat, then called out her yield.

“Maybe I did too good a job,” she murmured as Karkat helped her off the ground.

“What was that?” Karkat asked.

“Nothing. Just try not to lose in your next matches. That would be quite embarrassing for me.”

“Uh. Sure thing.”

Karkat wasn’t sure what to make of the whole exchange, but before he could think much on it, he was distracted. He had glanced up at the prince’s booth (as he did so often without realizing now) and saw his majesty speaking with one of the hired guards. He nodded a few times, then followed her down the stairs.

The seer was also in the booth and waved when she caught him staring. Karkat just jerked his head away and continued out of the stadium.

Dave wasn’t waiting for him when he exited, which Karkat figured was due to a certain noble stealing his attention. He needed to remember to tease him about that later. For now, he was grateful for it.

Karkat rounded the grandstand until he was next to the hidden entrance to the prince’s booth. He looked around and spotted the seer surrounded by her fey and walking toward the food stalls and then a glimpse of the prince’s tell tale reddish purple cape (only someone as ostentatious as his majesty would wear a cape) flick around the back of the medical tent and out of sight.

Perfect.

Karkat followed him, but stayed around the corner from where the prince was. He was talking to someone.

“You know I can’t cover for you, Roxy.”

“I’m not asking you to cover for me, Dirk .” It was one of the masked women. Strider.

“Things are going missing. You think I wouldn’t notice? Maybe it wasn’t you but you brought your band of thieves here, and I don’t trust them half as much as I trust you.”

“We’re not thieves, we’re outlaws,” she corrected.

“Because that’s better.”

“And for the record, if you don’t trust my friends, you don’t trust me. Do you trust me, Dirk?”

There was a pause and Karkat held his breath, afraid it might alert them to his presence.

“I do,” Prince Diederik (Dirk??) said. “But it would be nice if you told me what you were doing here in the first--”

“Hey, Karkat!” Dave called.

Karkat’s eyes practically bulged out of his sockets as he made a dash for Dave, who must have seen him as he was walking by the tent.

“What were you doing--”

“Not now, time to move!” Karkat said, grabbing Dave by the arm and tugging him toward the first crowd he could find.

Roxy laughed. “Well it’s a good thing I didn’t tell you shit. You really need to find more secure places to do these kinds of talks. Or let me do my thing so you don’t gotta worry about it.”

Dirk frowned. “I think it would be more suspicious if I kept disappearing into nothingness.”

Roxy smacked him on the arm. “It’s been over a decade since I was that bad at it. But you never let me live it down.” She sighed dramatically.

“Be that as it may, I am trusting you, Roxy. Don’t make me regret it.”

She rolled her eyes and patted him on the cheek. “Never ever, cuz. You just leave this whole missing shit business to me.”

Dirk snorted. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Well, as nice as this reunion was, I better head off before my lot get suspicious, too. You keep an eye on Davey for me, you hear?”

Dirk stiffened. “Of course.”

Roxy smiled gently. “And stop being so hard on yourself all the time. You’re doing good.”

Her eyes shone a deep blue as she waved and then was gone.

“You were stalking the prince,” Dave said, voice dripping with exhaustion.

“Not so loud!” Karkat hushed. “And I wasn’t stalking , I just… happened to notice where he was and stood near him without alerting him of my presence!”

Dave stared at him.

“Okay, but he was acting really suspicious!”

“He’s the prince ! He’s allowed !”

“He knows the masked people. Or, at least Strider.”

“Oh?” If Dave’s voice sounded stiff, Karkat didn’t notice.

“Yeah. He thinks she was stealing but he trusts her. That’s weird, right?”

“Right. No. Wait. Listen, Karkat.” Dave stopped walking and grabbed his friend, forcing him to do the same. “How long have we known each other?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Like… Ten years? Maybe?”

“And in that time you’d say we’ve become pretty good friends, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“And in that time of us being pretty good friends, have I asked you for many favors?”

Karkat thought about that for a moment. “There was that time you wanted me to take the blame for spilling mead on the captain’s new tunic, and the time you had me go see if that stable hand was into you, and the time--”

“Okay, okay, point taken!” Dave interrupted. “But any serious favors?”

“I’d call taking on the wrath of Captain Latula pretty serious.”

“Karkat.”

“Dave.”

“My point is. This is a friend favor I’m calling in. Drop this. Drop whatever your obsession with the prince is. Drop whatever mystery you’re trying to unravel with Roxy. If any other weird shit happens during this tournament just leave it alone. Okay?”

Karkat looked into Dave’s eyes, deep red to bright. This was important to him. Karkat felt that age-old tug in his gut and blinked first, missing Dave’s split second look of shock and the glow of rust red blood splatter reflected on his irises.

“I’ll drop it,” he said. “Promise.”

Dave sighed, tension draining from his features. “Thanks, man. Now let’s get you fed before your next fight.”

Karkat’s stomach growled in response and the pair laughed as they headed to the food stalls, arms draped over each others’ shoulders.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Diederik!” a voice called.

Diederik stopped and turned to wait as Princes Eridan and Kurloz approached.

“You’re a hard man to keep track of. I was thinking maybe the freaks or the thieves really did get to you."

"Not yet," Prince Diederik replied, smiling lightly. "How can I help? Or were you wanting to join me to watch Kurloz's knight's upcoming fight?"

Eridan snorted. "Gods no. We're heading out, thoroughly beaten, which I'm sure is making you jump for joy."

Diederik looked to Kurloz, who nodded. "Leaving? Back to the confederation already? Without your knights?"

Kurloz shrugged then signed a few quick statements. 

"They're big boys, they can take care of themselves. Besides, we know why English really wanted to come," Eridan translated.

Diederik stiffened. "Oh?"

"You're not as fucking sneaky as you think, Hal ," Eridan said, laughing and nudging the Skaian prince with his elbow. "We were well aware of your leisure activities while you were with us."

Diederik frowned. "And I suppose your leisure activities with my horse lord puts us in equal footing?"

Prince Eridan laughed again. "If you want to see it like that. I just think it's fun, right Kurloz?" 

Kurloz nodded, smirking.

"If he wasn't so far up your ass we'd take him back with us in a second. Guy's a riot!"

"I am pleased to hear he remains loyal under pressure," Diederik said.

Kurloz tapped Eridan on the shoulder and signed at him.

Eridan sighed. "You're right. Time to head out if we want to make it to that inn we like before nightfall." He turned back to Diederik. "Thanks for the invite and fuck you for the ass beating."

"Any time."

"And…" Eridan hesitated. "Watch yourself around the fey. Seriously."

"Noted. Thank you, Eridan, and you, Kurloz, for coming."

Kurloz waved then the pair walked off and away.

Two fewer people breathing down Dirk's neck now, at least. Not that he had noticed them doing so, but if they knew about Hal, he didn't trust them not to find out about anything else if they stayed any longer. He would have to keep a closer eye on them next time.

But that was next time.

Now it was time for Sir Vantas’s match against Roxy, which was more than a little concerning considering Dirk knew exactly what Roxy was capable of years ago, and her performance thus far proved she had gotten better in the interim.

If Karkat lost to Roxy, he was still in the armed finals, so at the very least he would be second place in one event. Would that be enough? He purposely kept the phrasing of who would qualify for the reward vague, but he couldn’t show any obvious favoritism…

Dirk repressed a sigh and climbed the stairs to his booth.

There was no use worrying -- all he could do was hope for the best.

Of course Karkat was up against the masked Strider. Of course he was.

Their match was going to start any minute (the announcer already poked his head in to make sure they were ready) and Strider had done nothing but smile and wave at him every time she caught him looking at her.

“Should I commission a self portrait for you? I’ll be able to afford one after I win this thing,” she said, laughing.

Fuck, caught again. He jerked his head away to instead stare out into the field.

She just laughed louder.

Where was that fucking announcer?

There was more snickering.

Karkat risked a glance back to see that English and Harley had joined in with Roxy, as the three of them burst into laughter as soon as they saw him looking.

At least he can bring people together, apparently.

It took another few minutes of doing his best to ignore the other three before he and Roxy were finally called out to the field.

The masked woman held out her hand to shake, and when Karkat took it, she tugged him close and whispered, “Thanks for keeping quiet,” in his ear.

He recovered quickly enough to ask, “How do you know I did?” before the announcer instructed them to take their places.

Strider just winked at him as she made her way to the far side of the stadium.

Karkat huffed and made his way to his position as well.

He did not glance up at the prince’s booth.

The trumpet sounded (and man would that sound haunt him in his sleep, as often as he’s heard it by now), and he rushed forward to the still stationary Roxy.

She dodged his first punch, and caught his second, pushing it aside and leaving him open to her own fist, hitting him square in the jaw.

Karkat’s head rattled more than it should from that. Guess he wasn’t completely healed. He shook it off and swung again, but Strider grabbed his arm and pulled, trying to swing him to the ground.

The knight was denser than she thought, however, and he yanked his arm back, taking her with him before she thought to let go, and his fist finally connected with her side.

Roxy staggered a bit, and Karkat tried to hit her again before she could recover, but he missed, his head still ringing from that first punch.

The masked woman used this time to slip behind him and tried to kick his legs out from under him, but she again underestimated him.

Karkat managed to hold his ground like the brick shithouse he was, and spun quickly to collide his fist with her cheek.

It connected, but the following dizziness stopped him from taking advantage of his upper hand, and Roxy skipped back a few paces, now more wary.

They paced around each other for a few moments, Karkat slowly stalking forward, then Roxy lunged, catching him around his neck and finally managing to throw both of them to the ground.

With the wind knocked out of him, Karkat didn’t have the strength to keep Strider from climbing on top of him, but managed to recover in time to catch her fist. He twisted with his hips, managing to roll over until he was on top of her, quickly bringing up one knee to keep her down and pinning the hand he had to the ground next to her.

Roxy got him in the belly with her free fist, but Karkat pushed through the pain and grabbed that wrist before she could hit him again and pinned it as well. Strider struggled for a few moments beneath him, then said, “Usually I make a guy take me out to dinner before they get me like this.”

Karkat just frowned at her and shoved his knee a little more insistently into her.

She made a small strangled sound, grimacing, then said, “Fine. I yield!”

Karkat climbed off of her and held out his hand to help her up, which she took and then did not let go of immediately. He tried to yank it back, but she just let the motion yank her forward so she could whisper in his ear. “I think I understand why dear Dirk is so… interested in you now.” Then she pecked him on the cheek and laughed as he shoved her away.

Karkat glared after her as she left the stadium, then turned his attention to the prince’s booth.

Prince Diederik was staring at him, his expression unreadable at that distance, and unflinching under Karkat’s own gaze.

Karkat looked away, huffing to himself, and walked off the field.

Dirk both desperately did and did not want to know what Roxy said to Karkat that made him look at him like that. He forgot how much of a wild card she was and hoped whatever plans she had at the tournament both continued to distract her from his own again after this and that it wouldn’t interfere with anything.

He sighed.

Between his cousins, the fey, and Jake, this tournament had turned a lot more complicated than he intended it to be.

Speaking of Jake, he and the woman from the witch’s grove, Jade, were out on the field, ready for their match to start.

As soon as the trumpet sounded, Jade rushed at Jake, who stayed where he was, poised like a coiled spring.

When Jade got within a pace of him, Jake lunged, tackling her to the ground.

She slipped out from under him easily, and jumped on his back before he could get up, literally, two feet coming down hard, then off and back a few paces.

When Jake got up, Dirk could see his grin.

The two circled each other for a few moments, eyeing each other up.

Jade dashed forward and delivered a fist to Jake’s stomach, faster than he could react, and he stumbled back before throwing out a punch of his own, catching her in the jaw.

She didn’t even flinch before swinging her leg into him, slamming it into his side, but he grabbed it and used it to toss her a few feet away.

She didn’t stay down long, rising, clutching her side before running forward and stabbing her elbow into his gut.

It was Jake’s turn to clutch his middle and Jade used the opportunity to kick him again.

He didn’t catch her leg this time, but he did trade it with his own blow to her gut.

She grabbed his arm this time and sidestepped behind him, taking his arm with her and wrenching it painfully behind his back.

Jake grimaced for a moment, then pushed backward off of the ground with his feet and onto it with his back, taking Jade, who was still behind him, with him.

He landed on her hard.

Neither of them moved for a breath, then Jake shook his head and rolled off of Jade, then quickly pinned her to the ground with one hand before she could move.

But she didn’t try to get up.

Obviously winded, she laid still for a moment, then hit the ground three times, signaling her yield.

Jake helped her up and kept her upright as his victory was announced and he led her out and to the waiting physician.

That meant it was Jake versus Karkat for the finals. Dirk couldn’t help but look forward to it.

Most of the finals had been moved to the following day, but Karkat discovered the horse race was still to take place that day, shortly after the unarmed bouts were done. (Apparently English had won and Karkat wasn’t sure how relieved he should feel about that.) He was with Dave as his friend readied his horse, as he had been the first day this insane tournament had started. If he was being honest, Karkat had almost forgotten about the race entirely, even though the tournament had just started a few days prior. He was interested in seeing how things would work out here, since how you were in a match, whether combat or archery, didn’t really reflect how you would do on a horse, and Karkat hadn’t even been around to watch all the races so far.

He wished Dave good luck, which his friend acknowledged absentmindedly, maybe focusing on the upcoming race, maybe focusing on a certain noble who just rode past. Who could say? Then Karkat took a seat in the stands and did his best not to glance up to where the prince was watching from.

As soon as everyone lined up, the announcer read off the list of participants:

Lords Equius Zahhak and John Egbert, Knights Dave Strider, Tavros Nitram, and Jake English, Rufioh Invocador, Feferi Peixes, Nepeta Leijon, and Jade Harley.

Egbert, English, and Invocador were chatting and laughing with those on either side of them, while Zahhak seemed more sweaty than usual, trapped between the two fey. He also seemed to be shifting in his seat a bit more than the others. Really must be nervous. Dave was one of the ones talking to Invocador, and they really seemed to be hitting it off. But whatever conversation they were all having was soon cut short by a quick burst of a horn to bring them all to attention.

Moments later, the second horn sounded and they were off, Dave, Invocador, and English taking the lead.

The two fey and Leijon seemed to be having trouble getting their horses to stay in line, the three of them seeming spooked.

Leijon made more headway, though she was still toward the back.

Zahhak and Egbert had started off further behind, but both were quickly gaining, cutting corners more tightly than the others seemed to trust their horses to do.

English must have seen them gaining ground, because he tried to risk much the same, but his horse had other ideas and stuttered to a halt. By the time English was able to get his horse to start moving again, Zahhak, Egbert, and even Nitram had made it past. Peixes was also gaining on him, having pushed past Harley and Leijon.

Now in the lead were Dave, Egbert, and Zahhak, but Karkat could tell Dave wasn’t going to make it in first. They were in the final leg of the race, and Zahhak and Egbert were still gaining ground. Sure enough, another curve later and they had both passed him, now it was between those two.

They were neck and neck, as they had been most of the race, but Zahhak leaned further onto his horse, seemingly urging it on, and he pressed forward.

Whatever he did, it was enough.

Zahhak came through the finish line first, followed quickly by Egbert, then Dave a few seconds later. Shortly behind him was Invocador, then Nitram, then Peixes, having managed to slip her way in front of English who came in right behind her, which left Leijon then a very unhappy looking Harley to bring up the rear.

Karkat wanted to go up to congratulate Dave, but his friend was caught up in talking with Egbert at the finish line, both laughing, Dave blushing so much Karkat could see it from where he was at, and, well, Karkat didn’t want to be a third wheel.

Rather than wait up for him, he made a pit stop at the baker’s booth to grab a few rolls, then headed back to the barracks to rest.

It had been a long fucking day.

Chapter Text

This would be a good day. Dirk felt relaxed for the first time, well, since before he started planning for the tournament, certainly. The next day would just be celebration, and maybe he would actually feel like celebrating for once.

And why wouldn’t he?

Sure, there had been bumps in the road, but with Sir Vantas reaching the finals in both armed and unarmed combat, and after the results from the horse race finals, the only two people rivaling Vantas were Lord Egbert and Sir Strider. Dirk could easily reason out Egbert not getting the special reward, and, well, he could make something up to justify Vantas getting it over Strider, if it came down to it.

Plus, the princes were gone, the fey were all out of the competition so Dirk wasn’t sure if they’d be staying around to watch the finals, he already had his confrontation with Jake, and, well, sure, he still had the missing items to think about, but that hardly mattered compared to everything else. More of a nuisance than anything.

Karkat was up first against Jake in unarmed combat, and though the thought of them facing each other made his stomach twist in a way he couldn’t name, overall, Dirk felt relieved, and found himself humming a tune as he waited for the match to start.

He stopped abruptly when Rose appeared next to him.

“You know,” he said calmly, pretending he hadn’t about jumped out of his skin, “if I didn’t know better I’d say you were learning tricks from Roxy.”

Rose snorted. “Aspects don’t work like that.”

“I’m aware. What are you doing here? Won’t your entourage miss you?” he asked as she sat next to him.

“They’re big girls, they can take care of themselves. They’re exploring the stalls more now that they don’t have their own matches to worry about. I thought you could use the company.”

“I figured I’d be boring now that you figured out my game plan.”

Rose shook her head. “For one, I know why you’re focused on Vantas, not what you’re planning on doing with that focus. For another, dear cousin, I do actually enjoy your company outside of us trying to snoop on and out strategize each other, and I know you enjoy mine as well.”

Dirk smiled. “Fair enough.”

The trumpet sounded, announcing the start of the match.

Jake was the first to rush in, but Vantas met him in the middle. They grappled with each other, arms locked together, each trying to throw the other to the ground.

Jake was grinning again, probably pleasantly surprised by the shorter man’s strength.

The Prospitian still won out, though.

He shoved Vantas back, causing him to stumble and fall, but Vantas used it to his advantage, quickly propping himself up on one arm and kicking out at Jake’s legs.

Jake fell forward and Vantas barely managed to roll out of the way in time to not be crushed beneath him, then kicked out again with both legs, slamming into Jake’s side.

Jake grabbed one of Vantas’s legs, trying to drag him closer, but Vantas shoved off the ground with his arms and free leg and on top of Jake, stomping on his back like Jade had the day before, though Jake was more obviously winded this time.

Dirk was pleased to see Vantas was learning as he went.

He had hopped back away from Jake, but not very far, and as soon as Jake started to get up, he lunged at him, knocking him back down to the ground and slamming his knee into his gut as he went down.

Before Vantas could hop back up again, though, Jake grabbed him and flipped them both over so the larger man was on top.

Dirk could see his knight kicking beneath Jake, and the two wrestled on the ground for a few minutes, Jake trying to pin Vantas down and Vantas squirming out of his grip, but not out from under him.

Finally, Vantas did one of the stupidest things Dirk could have expected, if he was correct about the extent of the man’s previous injuries, even after healing:

Vantas headbutted Jake.

He headbutted Jake so hard Jake almost instantly was dead weight on top of him.

Vantas didn’t seem to be moving either.

Dirk was up, out of his seat, and at the edge of the balcony. He opened his mouth to call for the physician, but he stopped when he saw movement.

Vantas was wriggling his way out from under Jake, then unsteadily got to his feet.

The announcer went down to where he was standing, lifted one of his arms in the air, and said, “Sir Karkat Vantas! Champion of Unarmed Combat! Congratulations on your victory! You will receive your reward following the last event of the day.”

By the time he was done, the physician was next to Vantas as well and helped him walk off the field while her assistant was helping Jake up, who seemed more bewildered as he came to than anything.

Dirk sat back down and willed his heart to resume its normal pace, appreciating the light hand Rose placed on his arm.

“I enabled this,” he finally said once he trusted his voice not to shake.

“No, dear. Well, yes,” Rose corrected, “but he would have done this anyway.”

“What?”

“After your bullheaded push to keep him in the fight, I looked ahead. It was the only way to convince the girls to help, anyway. Not only did fortune show healing was the correct choice, I felt how terribly it would go had you not opted for this. No details just… Determination, stubbornness, pain, loss.” Rose shook her head as though shaking away the thought. “He would have kept fighting anyway. So, yes, pushing him to fight enabled him, but he’s just… like that,” she finished with a laugh.

Dirk couldn’t help but laugh, too, just a little, if only from the slight relief of what Rose said. She might be lying to make him feel better, but he’d take it.

The first thing Karkat saw when he stood up and opened his eyes was a look of fear on his majesty’s face. Then the world blurred out again, barely hearing his victory announced, barely noticing he was being led out of the stadium. The few minutes of walking to the physician’s tent helped clear his head, though, so he was able to perfectly see how angry Dave looked when he showed up seconds later.

“Dave, it’s okay, I’m fine now, I was just dizzy for a--”

“Withdraw from our fight,” Dave said.

“What?”

“Withdraw from our fight or I will.”

“Dave, you can’t be serious! I told you, I’m fine, there’s no--”

“I’m pretty fucking serious, dude! You lucked out when you were magically better yesterday, and then you go and pull this shit? What the fuck? What the fuck ?”

Karkat wilted. “But… the physician said…”

Dave turned his attention to the physician who looked like a trapped animal and swallowed under Dave’s gaze.

“Er, he’s, uh, right. He doesn’t seem to have a concussion or anything serious enough to actively keep him from fighting, though I do still recommend against it. I have my theories as to why--”

“Fine. Whatever.” Dave turned back to Karkat. “Do what you want, but don’t expect me to sit back and keep watching you put your life in danger over a fucking competition.”

And before Karkat could say anything else, he stormed out.

Karkat stared after him, ignoring the awkward coughing of the physician, swatting her away as she tried to check him over one last time. He gathered his things and shuffled off, no direction in mind except away .

Dirk didn’t see Strider or Vantas in the crowd around the archery finals. Lord Egbert seemed to be distracted looking for someone as well, frowning as Roxy tried to engage him in conversation.

Dirk had been assured Vantas was fine, fine enough to still participate in the armed combat finals, but neither of the knights showing up worried him nonetheless.

Rose put a calming hand on his arm, and he relaxed back in his seat.

Egbert seemed to shake off his own worry, and smiled broadly as he shook Roxy’s hand as their names were announced.

The set up for the archery finals was different than what the matches leading up had been. The Automaton’s guild had gerry-rigged some devices that would launch wooden disks into the air at random intervals, but no longer than 30 seconds between each. He had three machines, set at different distances, and each had disks painted different colors to note which machine they came from. One hundred points for the nearest, two hundred for the mid, and three hundred for the farthest. There were five disks in each machine and the finalists had been limited to ten arrows each, fletched with different colored feathers.

At one guild member’s signal, they launched a test round, both to make sure everything was working and to give Egbert and Roxy an idea of what the event would look like.

Dirk could feel the excitement in the crowd. It wasn’t often his guild was able to show off their inventions. He couldn’t be prouder.

The announcer counted down as Egbert and Roxy readied their bows, then the trumpet sounded and the devices were started up again.

It took a few seconds for the first one to fly off, a blue one from the midrange. Egbert let an arrow fly, and missed his target. Roxy let it pass.

The next came a green disk from the closest, which Egbert got, but Roxy was ready for the red one that was flung from the farthest machine half a second later.

They both shot for the blue, which Roxy got again, but Egbert shot the blue disk that came ten seconds later and one of the two green that followed immediately after, while Roxy missed the one she aimed for.

It took another five seconds (such a seemingly short time, but so long when Dirk counted it out) for the next red disk to fly, which Roxy got again while Egbert lost another arrow in the attempt.

Now there were two disks left in both the near and mid, three left in the farthest. So far Lord Egbert had 400 points while Roxy had 800, but there was still time for Egbert to gain again.

Which he did as he hit the next red disk out of the sky, earning him another 300 points, just one green disk behind Roxy. He got that one, too, a few seconds later, but Roxy jumped ahead when she nabbed the blue that had shot out almost simultaneously.

This left Roxy with 1,000 points and Egbert with 800, another 900 up for grabs.

The final blue disk shot off, and both finalists went for it, but Roxy was just half a second behind Egbert, tying them.

The last two red disks flew one right after the other. Roxy nabbed the first one and Egbert just barely hit the edge of the second, keeping them tied.

It was down to the final green.

Seconds ticked past, this one seeming to not want to be released until close to the thirty second limit.

Finally, it was launched.

Lord Egbert and Roxy each shot off their arrows, but Roxy was just a breath faster, squeaking out the last 100 points to break their tie.

The finalists both visibly sagged, tension draining from them, though Roxy obviously more happy than Egbert.

They shook hands and patted each other on the backs as Roxy’s win and the award ceremony were announced. 

“I’m honestly surprised about how close it was,” Rose said. “Your noble really gave her a run for her money.”

Dirk couldn’t help but feel proud about that, too, but he just nodded his ascent. 

The final event was next. Armed combat between Sirs Strider and Vantas. And then Dirk would finally, finally , get what he had been waiting for.

Chapter Text

Dave didn’t turn to look at him when Karkat walked into the waiting area. Captain Pyrope, who was helping Dave into his armor, did, though, smiling with a quick, “I’ll help you next.”

Karkat hadn’t noticed how big this waiting area was. Or, maybe it wasn’t, but after having had so many people in here at the start, just the three of them made it feel… empty.

Maybe it was for the best, though, considering how hard Dave wasn’t looking at him.

Karkat grabbed a seat on a bench the farthest away from Dave and their captain and waited.

Dirk was nervous.

It was silly, he didn’t need to be nervous -- he had this whole thing in the bag. He even got reports that, well, there were no reports of things having gone missing since he talked to Roxy. A weird coincidence that part of his brain wanted to examine, but Dirk said he trusted Roxy and he did. And if that meant trusting the two she brought with her, well, fine. He trusted them, too.

Rose was still with him, humming idly to herself, and it soothed him, somewhat.

Again, not that he needed it.

He ran a hand through his hair restlessly then stood up to stretch and startled himself with the jingle of coins in the pouch at his side.

Rose snickered.

It had just been a few minutes since he had grabbed the reward money from its chest to speed up the ceremony after this fight was done, and he had already forgotten it was there.

He sat back down, not liking the weight at his side.

Speaking of weight -- er -- waiting Dirk saw the announcer pop into the waiting area and back out and up to his mostly-fixed podium.

“Ladies, gentleman, and otherwise esteemed members of the audience, thank you on behalf of his royal highness Prince Diederik, for joining us for this, the final event of the tournament! This is an armed combat competition between Sir Karkat Vantas, who has already won the unarmed tournament from earlier today, and Sir Dave Strider, both top knights of his highness’s troop. This tournament was meant to honor those knights, so it is only fitting it is with them we end it. Sirs Vantas and Strider, when you are ready.”

At the last, the aforementioned knights strode onto the battlefield, their captain leaning against the doorframe, watching them go while the crowd of knights in the audience went wild with cheers.

This was Karkat’s last chance to say something. Dave reached out for a handshake, and Karkat grabbed it, “Dave, I--”

“It’s fine,” he said. He smiled lightly, and Karkat hoped it was legitimate. “Good luck. Or not, because you know I’m going to kick your ass.” He laughed and Karkat did, too.

“In your dreams, Strider.”

They released each other and took their positions on the opposite side of the field.

The trumpet sounded and his knights rushed at each other simultaneously. Vantas swung out with his falchion first, but Strider dodged it, but not the second one that immediately followed. The blow rang out against his hip, but before Vantas could step back, Strider swung down on his shoulder.

Karkat barely managed to keep hold of his weapon. Dave knew he wasn’t as strong in his off hand, while he himself could fairly easily switch between. Karkat skipped back a few paces and tried to shake it off, but Dave came hurtling forward.

Dirk hadn’t seen Strider fight like this before. He was usually more cautious, usually avoided being hit, but Vantas got him under the arm again before Strider slammed down on his other shoulder. Vantas didn’t back off again, though.

Karkat cursed under his breath. Now he definitely couldn’t switch hands. Not that he thought he needed to, now, as long as he didn’t get hit anywhere on his dominant arm again. Fuck Dave for using his lanky ass height against him.

Karkat stabbed out to his friend’s middle and could hear the air leave Dave’s lungs as he staggered back.

Dirk was on his feet again. Thank the gods for chain mail, or else he was sure that stab would have been something serious.

Too restless to sit back down, he leaned against the railing, ignoring his cousin’s chuckle.

Karkat’s eyes were drawn to movement in the prince’s booth. It was just his highness coming forward to the edge of the balcony. For a second, he thought he saw a flicker of something else, but he was brought back to the fight with a blow to his elbow.

Fuck.

Shake it off, Karkat.

He parried the next swipe, then managed to slip past and land a hit on Dave’s collarbone, nicking his neck in the process.

Dave hissed a breath in then glared at him, and Vantas just half shrugged in apology, then fell into a roll to the side to dodge out of the way of Dave’s swing to the same spot.

Petty dick.

They were both smiling, much like Jake had been in his matches. This is what Dirk had been missing, when his presence disturbed their bouts. It made the tournament worth it, not considering anything else. 

There was that flicker again, out the corner of his eye, in the prince’s booth. Focus, Karkat. He swept Dave’s oncoming sword to the side and used the motion of it to keep going further, hitting his friend in the knee, which caused him to drop.

This was it.

If he could just--

Another flicker caused Karkat to turn. What the -- shit!

Strider was brought to one knee. If Vantas followed through, he basically had this in the bag. But Vantas was looking at him, then dropped, his hand going to his boot, then back up and before Dirk could process what was happening, something -- a dagger??-- was flying toward him.

Fuck.

It grazed his face and thunked into something behind him.

“Ow, shit!”

Someone ?!

Dirk whirled around, going for his own daggers, and was faced with a woman with long braided hair in a light brown outfit clutching a dagger planted firmly in her shoulder.

“Aw fuck,” she said.

“What the fuck ?” Rose said.

The woman dashed out and down the stairs, jingling heavily.

Dirk grabbed at his side and cursed.

The pouch of coins was gone.

He ran after her, ignoring Rose’s call for him to wait.

“What the f--” Dave started, but Karkat didn’t hear the obvious end to his question because he was already dashing out of the stadium, his friend close behind.

Karkat’s brain told him to go right, toward the staircase that led up to the prince’s booth, but his gut told him to go forward, into the meager crowd in the artisan’s stalls.

Dave didn’t follow.

“Watch out! King’s business! Prince’s business! Whatever! Get the fuck out of the way!” he called as he dashed through, finally catching sight of long black braids as he went.

People got the idea and backed off, pressing against the stalls until it was just a wide open space between Karkat and his target.

She was getting close to the woods.

Shit.

Catch up.

She was fast.

Almost--

Dave dashed out from between a few stalls and swooped behind her and she barely managed to not run into his sword.

The woman turned to run to the side, between other stalls, but Karkat stopped her there.

“Fuckity shit. Don’t suppose I can convince you boys to let me go?”

“Not likely,” Dave said. He lunged forward, but was blocked.

Another woman appeared with a sword of her own.

“Guess we get to have a little fun, then,” she laughed.

The woman with braids snickered and brought out her own weapons, a pair of sais. “Just keep it quick, Serket; this dagger hurts like a bitch.”

Karkat couldn’t see the other woman’s (Serket’s) face, but her whole body moved in what seemed to be an exaggerated eye roll. “If you insist.”

The braided woman launched herself at Karkat, who dodged into a roll then swung out and into the woman’s side, hitting something harder than he thought he would. Probably leather armor, from the feel of it, hidden under her tunic.

The woman staggered forward, bent over from the blow.

Karkat closed in, hovering over her cautiously.

Suddenly, she popped up, her head slamming under Karkat’s chin.

He fell back and she was on top of him, one sai pressed to his throat.

He glanced at Dave who was similarly compromised.

“This all his majesty’s got? No wonder this job was so easy,” the woman on top of Karkat snickered.

Then Karkat was hit in the head.

Not by the woman over him, but by something round and hard.

A few more landed nearby, but before he could see what they were, they exploded into grey-ish blue smoke.

“Aw fuck, not them,” the woman said between coughs.

“Fuck, Meenah, let’s--” Serket began.

Karkat couldn’t tell why she stopped except there were other people-sized shapes in the clouds of smoke and then the weight of the braided woman, Meenah, was gone and replaced by something much lighter.

Karkat stood up, coughing, grabbing the weight on his chest which seemed to be a bag of coins. “Dave, you okay?”

“Yeah,” his friend replied between his own coughs.

“Strider! Vantas! We’re here!” their captain called from somewhere out of the smoke.

“Captain! Fuck, can’t see shit.”

“Hold on, Dave,” another voice said (was that Lord Egbert?).

There was a gust of wind and the smoke cleared away revealing a crowd surrounding Dave and Karkat containing their fellow knights -- even the ones from Prospit -- and some of the guards who were mostly surrounding Prince Diederik, whose face was dripping blood from the gash Karkat’s dagger had caused. Karkat’s stomach twisted. At the front with his majesty was their captain and Lords Egbert and Zahhak.

“Where’d they go?” Captain Pyrope asked, sword still at the ready.

“They’re gone, Cap’,” Dave said.

“Gone?”

“We let them escape,” Karkat snarled, his anger directed squarely at himself.

The prince shook his head, but said nothing.

“But, uh, they left this?” Karkat added, handing the bag of coins forward to no one in particular.

Prince Diederik took it from him, then opened the bag, appeared to count the coins, and smirked. “You did a good job,” he said, his orange eyes piercing into Karkat’s red. He broke his gaze and turned to Dave. “Both of you.”

Karkat and Dave bowed deeply.

“Just doing our duty,” Dave said.

“A shame your fight was interrupted, though,” his majesty continued.

Dave shook his head. “Kar-- Sir Vantas had basically won it before he noticed the… thief, I’m assuming by the bag he recovered.”

The prince nodded. “Then you give the win to your comrade?”

Dave shrugged. “Again, not giving anything that wasn’t earned, but yeah, I don’t need to go back and try again.”

Karkat stared at him.

“Sir Vantas, do you accept?”

“Dave, are you sure?”

“Karkat, take the win before I change my mind,” Dave smirked.

Karkat looked back to Prince Diederik. “Yes, majesty, it would be an honor.”

“Very well. The ceremony will continue as scheduled.”

Karkat opened his mouth, then looked at Dave, and shut it with a clack.

“Unless you have objections, Sir Vantas?” the prince asked, amusement tinging his voice.

Captain Pyrope was glaring at him.

“I-I just think we should go after them -- the thieves,” he said, feeling his ears heat up.

“Your dedication is admirable, as always, but rest assured they are being well taken care of.”

The nobles and Captain Pyrope shot him a confused look, but the prince didn’t elaborate further.

“Captain Pyrope, get your men ready for the award ceremony. You get ready, too, Lord Zahhak.”

The two saluted, Zahhak heading off in the direction of the stage the opening ceremony was held on, the captain turning to the knights in front of her.

“Are you injured?” she asked.

The pair shook their heads.

“Good. Then there will be no excuse if you’re late. Go get cleaned up -- you two are covered in soot. As for the rest of you,” she said, twirling around to the knights gathered behind her. “Get in your places. You know what to do.”

The knights rushed off to do as they were told.

Karkat found himself on the stage a few minutes later, having been wiped down until his armor shined. He was standing next to Lord Zahhak, who was looking like he needed a wipe down of his own, with the notable absence of Roxy Strider, the other tournament winner. He frowned for a quick second before remembering where he was and how many people were watching.

Dave, Lord Egbert, and Jake English were off to the side, presumably for whatever second place prizes were to be awarded. Dave and Egbert were next to each other, though English kept stealing their attention. Oh, well. At least someone was happy.

Not that Karkat was particularly upset. He was happy to have won, after all, though his victory over Dave still felt a bit hollow. There were any number of ways Dave could have bested him from where he had him at the last, he was sure of it.

Whatever. Didn’t matter now.

The announcer stepped onto the stage and the chittering audience fell to a hush.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and other esteemed guests, we welcome you to the awards ceremony! Here and now those proven to be the best of the best will get their rewards from his highness, Prince Diederik, himself! Here we have -- er -- most of the first and second place winners of our four events on stage. We will proceed alphabetically by event.”

He cleared his throat.

“For second place in the Archery event, ten gold and the silver medal goes to Lord John of House Egbert!”

Prince Diederik was on the stage now and handed Egbert his gold then placed the medal around his neck.

“First place goes to Roxy Strider who, er, does not appear to be in attendance?”

“She received it,” the prince said, smirking.

“Right then. Moving on. In armed combat, second place goes to Sir Dave Strider of the royal knights!”

Prince Diederik repeated the same gifts to Dave as he had to Egbert.

“First place and its 25 gold and gold medal goes to Sir Karkat Vantas, also of the royal knights!”

It was Karkat’s turn to be handed things. He didn’t know where to look. Not in the eyes, certainly, but his own eyes kept straying to the now scabbing over cut on the prince’s cheek, and he flushed as he accepted his prize.

“Second place for horseback racing once again goes to Lord John Egbert!”

Egbert snickered as the prince circled back around to him. “You weren’t supposed to win so much,” Prince Diederik said quietly as he handed Egbert his second set of awards.

“Sorry for being the example for your nobility,” Egbert quipped back.

“First place goes to Lord Equius of House Zahhak!”

The prince handed the first place rewards to Zahhak, and gave the lord a firm handshake. Maybe too firm, as Karkat swore he saw his highness subtly shake and flex his hand after Zahhak released it.

“Finally, second place for unarmed combat goes to Sir Jake English of Prospit!”

Karkat did not look at his majesty reward English. He still couldn’t think of those two next to each other without growing uncomfortable.

“And our last reward for placing in the tournament, first place in unarmed combat, goes to Sir Karkat Vantas.”

The prince was in front of him again, handing him his prizes, but instead of moving off to another side of the stage or having the winners leave it, he stood next to Karkat.

“As was said when the tournament was announced,” his highness began, “there is one last prize to give out. One I have kept secret until this moment. It was to go to the one who exemplified their skill in this tournament, above and beyond other participants, and there is but one knight who has done so, not only winning both of the events he participated in, but also reacting quickly to a threat on his sovereign.”

Karkat’s heart was beating out of his chest.

“Sir Karkat Vantas,” the prince continued. “You will have the honor of staying at my side in between your regular duties to be my personal knight and bodyguard, as you have already proven capable of doing.”

The prince turned back to him and pinned a symbol of a crossed shield and sword to Karkat’s chest.

Karkat tried to unfreeze. “I--” he stammered, looking to Dave and his captain, who were both staring expectantly, if a tad nervously. “I thank you, your majesty, for this great honor.” He kneeled in front of his prince. “I will not let you down, I swear it.”

“I know,” the prince said, so lightly Karkat wondered if anyone else could hear it, or if he was even meant to hear it. “Rise, Sir Karkat Vantas” he said more loudly, “royal guard of Skaia.”

Chapter Text

“Cheer up, ‘Kat, it’s time to have fun,” Dave said, nudging his sullen friend with his elbow.

It was the last day of the festival, the day reserved for celebration. Dave and Karkat were sitting and watching bards perform their variety of songs, dances, and tricks. Well, Dave was watching. Karkat was sulking.

“How are you not freaking out about this?” Karkat asked, gesturing to the pin on his chest.

Dave shrugged. “Maybe because it’s not happening to me?” He laughed when Karkat shoved him. “Or maybe because I know how to reserve my freak outs for the proper time instead of letting it ruin my last day to relax.”

“One week, Dave, that’s it until I have to turn my whole life upside down. I even have to sleep near him!”

“Don’t forget about us little guys when you’re living it up on those plush beds.”

“Dave, I’m serious!”

Dave twisted and grabbed Karkat with both hands. “And I’m saying stop! Stop being so serious! Live it up for once in your gods forsaken life before you’re under the thumb of the prince you so desperately despise!”

Karkat wriggled out of his grasp. “I don’t despise him,” he grumbled.

“Whatever. Listen. Get up. Go for a walk without me and don’t come back until you blow some of your mountains of reward money on something stupid, okay?”

“You just want an excuse to go suck face with the egg lord,” Karkat said, smirking.

“Maybe I’ll go do it anyway and I’m trying to save you from having to see it,” Dave laughed.

Karkat chuckled. “Fine. I’ll go have fun while you have a miserable time playing tongue twister.”

Dave beamed and slapped him on the back. “There’s a good man. Hop to it.” Then he got up, walked over to where Lord Egbert had been eyeing him for the past few minutes, used the lapels of his coat to pull him to him, and kissed him hard on the mouth before pulling the now dazed noble behind him and out of sight.

Karkat sighed. Guess he needed to keep his end of the bargain.

Dirk was sipping wine and feeling pleasantly light headed as he sat in the booth facing where the archery competition was held. The lights from the celebrations behind him danced on the targets and the machines and the music played low to the back of his mind.

He turned and smiled at Rose, who had just stepped in. “Cousin!”

“There you are,” she said. “Why are you all the way out here?”

“It wouldn’t do for them to see their prince wasted,” he said.

“Are you wasted?” she asked, scrunching her nose.

He smirked. “Not yet.” He lifted the wine bottle next to him. “Want to help me get there?”

“No thanks. I’ve found it best to avoid such things.”

Dirk shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He took another swig from his glass, then looked her up and down. “What’s wrong?”

She frowned. “I’m not sure right now is the best time for us to have a heart to heart.”

“Or maybe it is, because if you say something too embarrassing right now, I’m more likely to forget,” he countered.

Her lips quirked into a smile. “Fine. I suppose I am just… perturbed at how easily the thieves were able to move without my noticing. Especially that one, Meenah, who was not three feet away while I was none the wiser.”

“Must be a powerful void user.”

Rose shook her head. “I am not so certain. She didn’t feel like void, which, I suppose is to say she felt like something .”

Dirk nodded. He wasn’t as familiar with aspects as his cousin, but he knew what it felt like to be around Roxy for long spans of time, especially if she was using her aspect.

Rose sighed. “I guess I’m just worried there’s so much more I’m missing, if they were able to evade my notice.”

“Welcome to life for the rest of us.” Dirk laughed and took another drink. “Oh, I’ve missed you, Rose.”

“Oh?”

Dirk nodded emphatically. “It’s all so difficult, being alone. Being me. Everything.” he sighed deeply and drooped onto the back of the bench. “Everything is hard and no one understands. Not like you.”

Rose smiled and patted his cheek gently. “I’ll come check on you and drag you home in an hour or so. Try not to get up to trouble in the meantime.”

“No promises,” he said dramatically, wiggling the wine bottle at her.

Rose snorted. “Fair enough.” And then she was gone.

“Hey! Hey you!”

Karkat didn’t turn around.

“You with the boatloads of money and the nice pin!”

Nope, still ignoring.

“C’mon, royal fuckboy or whatever, I got a new fortune for ya!”

Karkat whipped around and, sure enough, it was the seer he had been tricked into getting a fortune from earlier that week. She was sitting at her stand and grinning widely.

“What the fuck do you want?”

She grinned wider. “Told ya. Got another fortune. Popped right into my head as soon as he pinned that thing on you.”

Karkat stomped over. “Fine, what is it?”

She held out both hands expectantly.

“What?”

“One for money,” she said, wiggling her right hand, “and one for your hand.”

“What? No fucking way! You already have my fortune so just give it to me.”

She shook her head. “Not a chance, dipshit. This bird don’t sing for free.”

Karkat rolled his eyes. Well. Dave did want him to spend his money on something stupid, and if this wasn’t that, he didn’t know what was. He fished out a gold coin and placed it in her palm.

“Thank you kindly,” she said. She then wiggled her other hand. “Now your hand, please.”

“Is this really necessary?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fine.”

He held out his hand, palm down, but she grabbed his wrist and turned it over, then brought it to her face in a flash before he could yank it away and licked a stripe from fingers to heel.

Karkat shuddered and wiped his hand off on his pants as soon as she released it.

She licked her lips thoughtfully as her eyes glowed green-ish from behind her red glasses. “Just as I thought. You’re on the right path, as much as one exists. Following your gut has gotten you this far, but be wary following hearts. That way lies your destiny, you’re running straight into it.” She laughed.

“You mean the one you mentioned earlier? About saving the kingdom? You know, like a knight does .”

She snickered. “You caught me in that one, but this is different. It’s the one you didn’t want, Dahia. It still waits.”

Karkat stepped back reflexively.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” he hissed.

“Lying to a blind girl? Not proper behavior for a royal guard if you ask me. But you have your fortune, just like you wanted, so run off. I have other customers.”

Karkat didn’t point out that no one was lining up behind him, he was just all too happy to leave.

Time to go back to Dave. He had been gone long enough, right?

He turned a corner back to where the bards and crowds were gathered, when a bright yellow glow caught his eye. It was the shop of scrolls and books that had unnerved him earlier. Well, he already put up with one aspect user today. In for a penny, in for a pound.

There was a knock on the prince’s booth, followed by a booming voice saying, “Knock, knock.”

“Jake!” Dirk exclaimed.

The large knight poked his head in. “Thought I might find you here. You always did love squirreling away like this.”

“Jake, I have wine. Do you want wine, Jake?”

Jake laughed. “Best not, Ha--highness.”

Dirk frowned. “Why did you come here, Jake?”

“Didn’t see you around, so I thought I’d check in. Make sure you were doing okay.”

“No, why did you come here ?”

“Ah,” Jake said.

He was quiet for a long moment

“Closure, I guess?" he finally said. "I never really had opportunities to leave the confederation, so I thought…” He rubbed his hands over his face and chuckled. “I don’t know what I thought. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Dirk laughed sharply. “It always does.”

“And I guess I’m here, now, to say, well…” Jake sighed. “I’m sorry, Hal. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted.”

Dirk turned and looked at him. Really looked at him. And he put his hands on either side of Jake’s face and kissed him long and sweet on the lips.

Jake’s arms hovered awkwardly around the prince, unsure what they should be doing.

When Dirk broke the kiss, he said, “Thank you. For all of it. And I’m sorry for expecting you to be something you weren’t.”

Jake smiled and kissed him on the forehead. “Goodbye, Hal.”

“Goodbye Jake. It was nice seeing you again.”

Karkat returned to the area the bards were playing in, his pack heavier and coin purse lighter in equal measure. He saw Dave and was about to head over, then noticed he was still with Lord Egbert, laughing at some joke he had made, their hands clasped together.

He found an empty seat elsewhere, most of his fellow knights having already gone back to the barracks.

At least the music was good.

The bard up now had a small puff of black hair and a piece of straw in between their teeth, wearing a mix of purplish reds and bright yellows, which somehow both clashed and complemented each other. Their music, strummed on a lyre, was a similar mix of feelings. It made Karkat’s heart swell, while piercing it with a bittersweet undertone.

He missed Dave. He knew his friend was just a dozen feet away, but soon they wouldn’t even be sleeping in the same building anymore. It had been ten years since that had been the case for more than short bouts of time.

He tried not to think of farther ago than that. Nothing mattered before. Not like Dave. Not like being a knight.

Maybe things would be simpler if he had never accepted his transfer, but who could turn down the opportunity to be part of the royal troop? To serve his prince?

Well, he would sure as fuck be serving him now.

Another clashing note tugged at him.

One more week.

He caught Dave’s eye and waved, gesturing he was heading out, and Dave smiled as he waved in return.

Better get used to it now.

Chapter Text

If Karkat thought his week before officially becoming Prince Diederik’s personal knight would be an easy one, he thought wrong.

His days were booked.

Extra training from his captain, pushing him where she saw weaknesses during his matches (“Teaching you not to get hit,” as Dave said). Making sure he was in top shape for his majesty.

Then there were tours of the castle. Why did it have to be so big ? His new quarters were the most important part (by the end of the week they made him walk blindfolded from the main entrance to it because? He honestly didn’t know). Not only were they important because that’s where he’d be spending his nights and downtime, but also because it was a suite connected to the prince’s to be prepared for any midnight emergency. He really hoped that was more theoretical than anything anyone expected to happen.

Then there was the scheduling, which was annoying, but Karkat was thankful for. His major patrols were being scheduled in advance, so there were little blips of time away from the prince he could look forward to. The first was his second week in, the second a few weeks after that, and the rest a bit farther down the road. He hated how excited he was for patrols, which were usually boring and lonely if he was sent alone, like he would be for these, but at least that would give him some time away and help him gradually adjust to his new role.

What was actually annoying were the etiquette lessons. How to bow to nobles, how to address the prince if he needed to interrupt, how to never, ever look him in the eye, how to never, ever enter his chambers unless it was an aforementioned emergency, etc. He hadn’t realized his majesty (an acceptable term, he found out; what a weight off his mind) had such a stick up his ass about those things. Whatever. The rules were easy enough to follow, as he had been doing most of them already (they did teach you some of it when you became a royal knight). For the most part he was to shut up, be seen not heard. That wouldn’t be too hard, right?

Dave laughed a lot when he expressed the sentiment to him.

Fuck Dave. He could do it! The guy was still too caught up in his giddy new relationship high to be reasonable, anyway.

Throughout all this, Karkat barely had enough time to get a decent night’s rest, much less spend time reading the scrolls and books he bought from the history vendor at the last night of the festival. They were still waiting in his pack. From glancing over it, it had seemed like pretty mundane readings, stuff he might have learned from anyone willing to sit down and talk about recent Skaian history, but the vendor insisted nothing shone quite so brightly without need -- and that her records were better than any you could find elsewhere.

But they could wait. For the time, Karkat needed to concentrate on not being hit during his bouts with Captain Pyrope (her practice sword was basically a thin stick that left angry red welts when he failed to dodge or block) and memorize just about everything else.

If Karkat found it odd that through all his trips to the castle, he never saw Prince Diederik, well, he didn’t say anything. He’d be seeing plenty of the man before long.

Sooner than he’d like, it was his last night in his own bed. He had turned in early, since he would have an equally early start the next morning, and laid there, willing himself to fall asleep to the sounds of snoring, low chatter, and distant horses that usually did the trick.

Not tonight.

Tonight he closed his eyes and clung onto the sounds. The wing his new room was in had been so quiet when he visited, it could only be quieter at night. He would miss this. The noise. The people. He knew he would still be training with them, working with them, but no longer living with them for the first time in ten years.

Something shoved against him and he opened his eyes to see Dave silhouetted in the moonlight.

“Move over,” he said.

Karkat did, squishing himself into the wall as Dave climbed in bed next to him.

“God, how does this still barely hold us, like our cots did back when we were pages?” he asked.

“We’re a lot bigger now, dumbass.” Despite the bite in his words, Karkat wrapped his arms around his friend and helped pull him into the bed.

They were silent for a moment, and Karkat could already feel himself relaxing more with the presence next to him, but this was just another sense he wanted to cling onto as long as he could.

“You’re not dying, you know,” Dave said, as though sensing his restless thoughts.

“I know.”

“This is a promotion, not a punishment. One you would have killed for a few months ago.”

“I-I know.” 

“I’ll still see you basically every day.”

“I know .”

“I’ll miss you.”

“I--” Karkat hesitated. “I’ll miss you, too.”

With Dave’s heartbeat next to his, his breath in his ear, he was finally able to drift to sleep.

Chapter Text

Karkat woke up at the crack of dawn and carefully peeled himself out of Dave’s grip. He splashed some water on his face, dressed in his best outfit (it fit oddly, too tight some places, too loose others -- he needed to get it to a tailor), grabbed his bag, and headed to the mess hall to snag a bite to eat before starting his first day at the castle.

Apparently that wasn’t on the schedule, though, because he was immediately greeted by a woman he assumed to be one of the castle’s servants, though he hadn’t seen her around before.

She wore a deep red dress with a floor length skirt that was accented by Skaia’s bronze and blue. An odd combination, but she made it work. Her hair was a bundle of tight curls around her face and down her back, and her eyes were just a shade darker red than Karkat’s. And her smile was… unsettling.

She was waving at him.

“You must be Karkat!” she said as he approached, gesturing to his pin.

“Unfortunately. And you are?”

“Aradia! Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, and vigorously shook his when Karkat accepted the handshake. “I’m here to take you to the castle.”

“Does his majesty think I’ll get lost? I was shown the layout at least a dozen times last week.”

She shrugged. “I think he just wants to keep me out of trouble. Let’s go!”

With that, she grabbed his arm by the elbow and yanked him forward and out the mess hall.

“But what about--”

“Breakfast? You’ll be eating with the prince! Or, well, you should be but somebody decided to take his meals in his room today, and I wanted your first meal to be in the actual dining hall.”

“Doesn’t he… need me? Or something?”

Aradia paused and rolled her eyes at him. “Of course he does. They always do, they just have a hard time realizing it. So dining hall it is!”

Karkat had only seen the dining hall packed with people after some ceremony or announcement or other. At this early hour, it was practically empty, just a handful of servants wandering around and minding the four figures at the end of the long table.

“Oh!” Aradia exclaimed. “Rose!”

Karkat’s stomach lurched. Sure enough, it was the seer and the three fey eating breakfast together. He hoped Aradia would take this as a sign now was not a good time to eat here and let him go back to the mess hall. 

“Rose, have you met Karkat?”

So much for that.

Before Karkat could protest, Aradia was dragging him along to meet the prince’s cousin, who was appraising him with an unreadable expression as they approached.

“I have not,” the seer said as soon as they were in range of normal speaking volumes. “Though, I agree it is about time I did. How are you, Sir Vantas?”

“‘M fine, m’lady.”

The fey chuckled, but the seer smiled lightly. “You may call me Rose. I have no use for such formalities.”

The wolf woman, Harley, draped an arm over the seer -- Rose’s shoulder. “Are you certain, m’lady ?” she murmured. 

Rose bunched up her face and bopped Harley on the nose with her finger. “ Later ,” she said, and Karkat did his best to not think about what that meant as the other two giggled.

“Would you like to join us for breakfast?” Maryam asked.

“We’d be happy to!” Aradia said.

She waved down one of the other servants, then sat next to Peixes and ordered herself some eggs and toast. Then they looked expectantly to Karkat, who was still deciding on a seat.

“Uh, the same,” he said, finally choosing a spot next to Maryam.

Rose watched him as he sat, and Karkat suddenly felt like he was being graded on something. “So you know me, of course, and Feferi. And I believe you’ve spoken with Kanaya?”

Karkat and Kanaya both nodded, though Kanaya and the other two smirked somewhat.

“That leaves Jade. She was looking forward to go against you in unarmed combat. Pity that English fellow got the better of her.”

“Yeah, he was alright,” Jade snorted.

Karkat couldn’t tell if she meant him or English.

“And congratulations are in order, of course, for your new position.”

“Thanks,” Karkat muttered.

Rose raised her eyebrows. “Not pleased with it?”

“Can you blame him?” Aradia chimed in. “He’s already being snubbed at breakfast.”

“Ah, yes, the prince is in something of a mood this morning. You’ll have to forgive him.”

Aradia and the fey chuckled, but Karkat had no idea how to respond to that, so he just nodded. “‘S fine.”

“It’s rude,” Feferi said.

“I think he’s just nervous,” Jade snickered.

Karkat stared at her. Nervous?

“Mm, yes, that could be it,” Kanaya agreed.

Karkat looked to Rose for some confirmation or denial on this wild supposition, but she merely quirked her lip up in a smile. “Whatever the reason, you’ll see him soon enough, and I’m glad it’s given me time to properly meet you. And see you again, Aradia. How long has it been?”

“Over a year, I think! I was out on a dig before you left, and just came back from another last night. Cave in. Pity. Not staying for long, though. Set to head off next week. I think his highness is trying to keep me out of trouble.” She smiled broadly throughout all of this, which somewhat unnerved Karkat.

“Well, I’m especially glad our paths were able to intersect this morning. I would hate to miss you again.”

“You should come out to one of my sites sometimes! You’d love it.”

Rose tapped her chin in consideration. “Now there is a thought.”

The servant came back with Karkat and Aradia’s food, and Karkat’s mouth watered hungrily at the sight and smells. He did his best to not scarf it down like an uncultured beast, but his stomach growled loudly, assuring everyone he absolutely wanted to.

The others were polite and pretended not to notice, outside of a snicker from Jade.

“So, Karkat, do you mind if I call you Karkat?” Rose asked.

Karkat shook his head.

“Wonderful. So, Karkat,” she began again, “what brought you to be a knight in the first place?”

Karkat swallowed a bite of yolk covered toast and washed it down with a swig of juice then said, “Wanted to be a knight, so here I am.”

“Surely it wasn’t as simple as that. Do you not have a family? Or were you raised amongst the pages?”

“Bit of both. Used to have a family. Don’t anymore. Became a page,” he shrugged. “Pretty simple.”

“I see,” she said. And if it looked like she didn’t quite believe him, Karkat didn’t care, and she didn’t press further.

It didn’t take much longer for him and Aradia to finish their breakfast. 

“About time we head up to see his highness! Might have to remind him he had other responsibilities today,” Aradia laughed.

“Tell him I said hello, and to stop being such a recluse,” Rose said.

Aradia nodded. “Will do! Let’s go, Karkat.”

“Farewell, Karkat, it was lovely to see you,” Kanaya said.

Karkat got up and, unsure of what to do but remembering his training from the previous week, bowed, then turned and quickly followed Aradia away, ignoring the laughter that came behind.

Even though Karkat had been around the castle dozens of times in the past week, he didn’t recognize the path Aradia was taking, and was surprised when, in a few minutes, he was in front of the prince’s study. He didn’t think they had taken enough stairs for that, but here they were. He looked at her questioningly, but she just smiled and said, “Servants’ secrets.”

She knocked on the large ornately carved wooden door and barely waited for a muffled, “Come in,” before opening it and dragging Karkat inside.

She curtsied deeply and Karkat quickly followed suit.

When he looked up, he saw an especially stoic looking Prince Diederik, ink quill in hand, surrounded by several small stacks of paper and a plate of barely touched bread and ham, the window behind him haloing him in the rising morning sun. Karkat’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed a thin red scar still on his cheek where Karkat’s dagger had sliced him.

“I’ve brought you the knight like you asked, my prince.”

His majesty’s eyebrows scrunched up for just a moment, then glanced behind the two, at the large standing clock. “Of course. Thank you, Aradia. Anything else?”

“Rose says hello and asks you to come out of your room more often!”

The prince snorted, which startled Karkat. “I’ll say the same to her next time she’s busy with something. You know how she gets.”

Aradia snickered.

Well, if that’s it, you may be dismissed.”

She curtsied again. “I’ll be back for lunch!”

Karkat could have sworn a smirk ghosted his lips. “As you wish.”

Then Aradia was gone, leaving Karkat standing awkwardly in front of his liege, feeling like cattle on the auction block as he looked him up and down.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything exciting for you to do today,” the prince finally said, “but maybe this is a nice, soft introduction to your duties. Which, for today, will be simply to stay with me and scare off anyone who tries to interrupt me.”

Karkat stared at him. “You’re not serious.”

Prince Diederik stared back.

Karkat jerked his eyes away from his face, careful to avoid eye contact. “You’re not serious, your majesty,” he corrected, doing his best not to sound too sarcastic.

Apparently it was enough, because the prince looked back to his paperwork.

“I am. There are a lot of things still leftover from the festival I need to address, not to mention the resources I need to approve to be allocated for the harvest season, or the preparations to be made if it’s worse than last years, or, well,” he sighed. “The less people interrupt me, the less you’ll have to stand around doing nothing, how about that?”

Karkat wanted to ask why there wasn’t an advisor who could do at least some of this, but he bit his tongue and just nodded.

“Though, of course, if you want to sit, you’re free to do so in between any unwanted visitors.”

“I’ll stand, majesty.”

The prince shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He began flipping through his papers with more focus, scribbling notes on some of them.

The scribbling was the only sound made in the room, which was fine in the first few minutes, but somehow turned irritatingly loud afterward.

Karkat kept waiting for his majesty to say something else to break the not-silence, like Karkat was dying to do, but it’s like they weren’t even in the same room.

Annoyed and bored, but knowing his place, Karkat stood and waited to be useful.

Despite his concerns, the first few hours went by with no interruptions, the first being Aradia back for lunch.

“Will you be joining us, highness?” she asked, Sir Vantas already in hand.

Dirk shook his head, and thankfully she took it without a fight.

“I’ll have someone send a plate up for you, and to take your half-eaten ham ,” she said the last pointedly, but Dirk just said a quick “Thanks,” and they were gone.

Dirk relaxed back in his chair and sighed.

He hadn’t considered how much harder it would be to work with Vantas in the room with him. He felt as though the knight had been staring daggers in his back the whole time, but didn’t want to turn to look and confirm it. What was also distracting was the questions broiling in the back of his mind, but it was too soon to pry, so he just had to stew in his own curiosity.

There was a knock on the door and Dirk gave his ascent for whomever to enter.

It was Rose with a steaming plate of potatoes, beef, and carrots, and a glass of water.

“How goes the first day?” she asked as she set the dishes on his desk and removed his old ones.

Dirk gestured vaguely at his paperwork. “Still a lot to do.”

“Surely this could have waited until next week and you could find something more exciting to do with your new royal guard?”

“I’d like as few nobles and guild leaders up my ass as possible, thanks. Plus, this is a good way for us to get used to each other.”

Rose snorted. “You sound like you’re courting a nervous horse.”

“Nothing so dramatic. I’m just not used to having people around, and he… Well. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

Rose laughed. Full blown laughter from the belly for a good long minute.

Dirk just frowned at her, the tips of his ears heating up.

“Oh, dear, cousin, my liege, heir to the throne of Skaia,” she said when she calmed down, “I admit you’re a prickly sort to strangers at the best of times, but if you keep fussing over whether your new guard ‘likes you very much,’ I think the two of you will get on before too long.”

“Excuse me for wanting the person who guards my back to not want a knife in it.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “You have evidence on your very face that if he wanted a knife in you, he would have done it already.”

Dirk ghosted his finger over the scar reflexively. “Be that as it may, he needs to at least respect me somewhat if I want him to open up more. Or else this whole thing will have been pointless.”

Rose sighed. “I do quite hope you know what you’re doing, Dirk.”

He let out a short bark of a laugh. “Me, too, Rose.”

There was another knock at the door.

“That’ll be me cue to leave. Do try to eat something, dear.”

Dirk rolled his eyes, but stabbed his fork into a piece of meat and ate it dutifully. “Happy?”

“Very.” Rose smiled.

Then she opened the door and let Aradia and Sir Vantas in.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Aradia said, not looking sorry at all.

“No worries, I was just leaving. Come now, Aradia, let these two have fun,” Rose said, placing her hand on Aradia’s shoulder to guide her away, and closing the door behind them.

Vantas stared at Dirk for a moment, then resumed his place a bit behind him.

It didn’t take long for the second interruption.

The knock was brisk and insistent, and its owner, a minor noble Dirk was expecting to come plead his case for further resources, rushed in as soon as he was granted permission, then immediately wilted and glanced back and forth between Dirk and his new royal guard.

“Is this urgent?” Dirk asked.

The man swallowed as he looked at the knight. “Er, no, my apologies, I’ll take my leave.” Then he rushed out as quickly as he had entered.

Dirk repressed a laugh. “That was efficient.”

Vantas just grunted in response.

And that’s how the rest of the day played out; Karkat standing around doing nothing while warding off the other handful of nobles and advisers that tried to talk to his majesty. He barely even needed to glare at them before they backed off. If it wasn’t for Aradia coming back to take him to dinner, he might have fallen asleep on the spot, and was still at risk doing so when he returned to his post. All the while, the prince barely acknowledged his existence, just sat at his desk, seemingly increasingly frustrated at the piles of work before him. He might as well have hired a guard dog.

When the light outside was finally growing dim, Prince Diederik sighed and relaxed back in his chair, setting his quill down.

“Good enough for today, I think. Be here at the same time tomorrow. Let’s head back to our quarters then, shall we?” He straightened up a few of the piles then gestured to the door.

Karkat opened it and followed the prince through, but couldn’t help but ask, “We’re doing this again? Uh, majesty?” he tacked on at the end before he could be reprimanded.

A look Karkat couldn’t name passed over the prince’s face, then he nodded. “You get the last day of this week for training and free time before you go on patrol, but I imagine this is what the rest of your week will look like.”

Karkat must have looked unhappy about the idea because the prince continued, “Rises in rank don’t always go hand in hand with more glorious work, most days, Sir Vantas, and in fact the more mundane the work, the better things are usually going. Something to keep in mind.”

“Yes, majesty,” Karkat said, more neutrally than he felt.

They stopped in front of the door to Prince Diederik’s suite. “No need to wait on me for breakfast tomorrow, just meet me at the study.”

Karkat was sure if Aradia or Rose were here, they’d argue, but he just nodded, already relishing the bit of free time he got during meals. At least there people talked .

“Good night then, Sir Vantas,” the prince said.

“Good night, majesty,” Karkat said.

Prince Diederik went into his room, shutting the door soundly behind him, and Karkat went to his own next door.

He tried not to focus on how it was almost as large as the room he had shared with a dozen other knights in the barracks, or how the bed could easily fit two or three more people on it comfortably.

He stripped off his clothes and laid down on it, curled into himself as his mind absently searched the silence for some sort of white noise to cling onto.

Nothing

Instead, Karkat mentally scoffed at what the prince had said. Surely paperwork couldn’t take up a whole week of time. Surely the ruler of Skaia would have something better to do than sit in an increasingly claustrophobic study doing what appeared to be clerk’s work.

Nope.

A restless night and bleary-eyed breakfast with Aradia (no seer or fey this time, thankfully) later found Karkat back at what he was doing the day before, except this time only a scant few nobles or advisers or whoever the hell they were popped by, seemingly expecting him, but still leaving swiftly when he stared at them for more than a few seconds.

He couldn’t pretend it didn’t please him, somewhat. He had always been a short man, but had beefed up quite nicely, if he did say so himself, to get exactly this sort of reaction. He just expected to be getting it from bandits or other sorts of evil-doers rather than dignitaries for his own kingdom.

Prince Diederik remained silent throughout, only responding to his unwanted visitors or Aradia bringing him his meals, and then at the end of the night to give Karkat the same instructions for the following day. If Karkat noticed he looked more weary and on edge than paperwork would suggest, he surely didn’t mention it.

The next four days went like this as well, with no free time during them to see Dave or the other knights like he had hoped he’d be able to, until Karkat was leaving Prince Diederik at his room’s door again and the prince started to say his same spiel about meeting him at the study.

“Wait,” the prince said, interrupting himself. “Tomorrow is your day of training. You won’t be back until after your patrol.”

Karkat nodded, finding himself relieved his majesty remembered and didn’t expect him again the next day. He did not want to be caught between correcting him and getting his free day.

“Well, in that case, safe travels, Sir Vantas. I’ll see you when you return.”

It sounded light and sincere, which Karkat didn’t expect. Maybe that’s what emboldened him to say what he said next. Maybe he heard something off in the prince’s voice besides sincerity, tinged, perhaps, by the dark circles ghosting under his eyes. Whatever it was, he found himself saying, “Good luck with the nobles, sire, and if you replace me with a gargoyle while I’m gone, I won’t hold it against you.”

The prince stared at him for a few seconds, and Karkat was afraid he had overstepped, but to his surprise, the prince’s face soon broke into a smile and he laughed, so heavily he leaned against his door for support.

It did something to Karkat, that smile. Made him realize he had never seen his majesty look so… real. It tugged at him in a way that was reminiscent of the bard’s song from a week ago. Deep and bittersweet.

He shook the feeling off as the prince’s laughter calmed.

“Good night, majesty.”

“Good night, Sir Vantas.”

Prince Diederik was still smiling as he entered his room, closing the door behind him.

Karkat went to his own and, for the first time that week, found himself swiftly falling asleep.

His day for training and leisure went fine, he guessed. Half the other knights, including Dave, were on patrols of their own, but at least he was getting smacked less by Captain Pyrope’s practice sword.

Less rushing in, more making them come to you.

Easy peasy.

For the last half of his day, he sat against a tree near the training grounds and fished out the books and scrolls he had bought at the festival from his pack, the sounds of his fellow knights around him turning into a comforting background noise.

Each work was wrapped in a cloth with the years they were about written on it, none going further back than twenty or thirty years.

Karkat figured the most recent would be the most relevant, so he grabbed the scroll that was dated just a few years ago, after the end of the Dersite/Prospitian War:

Liberating the Bilious Plains: Selfless or Calculated?

He tried reading it in earnest, he really did, but it seemed to be one person’s conspiracy theory about the prince’s rule, and though Karkat’s suspicions of the prince had not quite died down, he doubted he was spearheading some master plot to take over other kingdoms. Not to mention the author kept referring to “some scholars” which he was pretty sure was a roundabout way to refer to themselves.

The only real things of note were how long it had been since the king and queen of Skaia had gone missing -- so long most people tended to forget there was technically still a king and queen -- and that Prince Diederik still hadn’t held the ceremony to become ruler in full, despite now even having the prince of the Bilious Plains also under his rule.

Karkat wasn’t sure if there were things a prince couldn’t do that a king could, or if it was just a formality by this point, but either way did make the decision to not be coronated by now seem odd when he stopped to think about it.

Whatever.

He wasn’t sure how this was relevant to him at all, beyond the fact his patrol would take him near the border, and hoped the rest of the writings he bought were more interesting -- and less paranoid.

For the time being, he packed up his books and headed back to his room to rest for the night, excited for a week that at least could not be more boring than this one.

Chapter Text

Karkat was tightening the straps for his saddlebags, almost ready to ride off on his patrol down the main highway toward where the Prospitian Chain connected with the Incip river. He wouldn’t be going all the way to the border, but he had packed as though he would. He could never be too careful.

He was interrupted from his mental checklist of his provisions by a horse and cart pulling up to him.

“Hi!” the driver called cheerily.

It was Aradia.

“Hi. You heading out today, too?”

“Yep! With you, in fact!”

Karkat stared at her. “What? What do you mean with me ?”

“The next dig site his highness is sending me to is just a day’s ride toward Prospit off the main road, so he thought it prudent to send me with you at least part of the way,” she explained, her smile never faltering.

Karkat frowned, but to be honest, he was pleased to have the company after being effectively alone so much the past week. “Fine. If his majesty insists.”

Aradia flapped her hands in excitement as she waited for Karkat to mount his horse. When he was settled, he gestured forward, and they were off, Karkat leading the way.

“Missing him already?”

Dirk started and whipped away from the window to see Rose behind him, an amused smirk playing across her face.

“I thought you would be enjoying your privacy again,” she continued.

“And what privacy is that?” he asked pointedly.

She just smiled.

“I am enjoying it, or, will. While he has successfully driven off the majority of the pests and saved me time, I feel I lost an equal amount getting used to being watched all the time. By someone other than you, at least.”

Rose chuckled. “I don’t watch you all the time, dear. And I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

“Oh?”

“I requested the use of Prince Eridan’s libraries and he has agreed. I have a few things to finish up here first, but I’ll be leaving in a few weeks.”

“For how long?” It came out needier than he intended.

Rose’s smile faltered. “I don’t know, Dirk. You know how I get when I’m on a research binge. If I don’t find anything, a week or two, but then I’ll probably request the same of Prince Kurloz. If I find something, well, that’s something else entirely.”

Dirk just nodded an acknowledgement.

“I’m still here now, Dirk. Come have lunch with us. Kanaya convinced the cooks to let her whip something up from back home.”

Dirk hesitated, then shook his head. “I should attend to my duties. I believe I have petitioners today. Some other time.”

And before Rose could say another word, he walked off.

The main road led through the capitol, as one might expect, and Karkat didn’t care for it at all. He had been through it dozens or hundreds of times and hated the noises and the smells and the people darting out in front of him.

This time was no different, except… Were they staring at him? The streets seemed to quiet, just a little, as he passed through them, and he urged his horse to subtly pick up the pace to reach the front gates more quickly.

Aradia pulled her cart up next to him. “It’s because of your new status,” she explained, still smiling, but looking a little weary around the eyes. The noise must have been getting to her, too.

“Why? I haven’t done anything with it.”

She shook her head. “It’s what you’ve done to deserve it. Most of them were at your matches, and they heard about your fight with the thieves.”

“What’s so exciting about that? Dave was there, too, and we didn’t catch them.”

She looked around conspiratorially. “I’ll explain when we’re back out of the city,” she said, then let her horse and cart fall back to its position a few paces behind him.

All the more reason to get out of there as quickly as possible.

The petitioners looked so nervous Dirk almost wanted to turn and look to make sure Sir Vantas wasn’t standing behind him anymore.

Must be him.

He did his best to straighten out his face for the next few, and that seemed to help a bit.

He was annoyed, though. About half of these were subjects of some of the nobles scared off the previous week, with oddly specific requests for their lands or work area for the harvest and barren seasons. It wasn’t their fault, of course, so he tried not to direct his annoyance to them. He paid them each a silver and said he’d take it under consideration and sent them off.

He had a handful more petitioners in line, when Jade burst into the throne room.

“We need to talk,” she said, her tone conveying an underlying now .

Dirk ignored the whispers and stares as he rose from his throne.

“I’m afraid the rest of you will have to wait until next time. You are dismissed.”

They and the few servants in the room scurried out as he descended the dias and followed Jade out.

She didn’t say anything as she walked, just led him to Rose’s personal library. She called it a study, but it was over twice as large as his and tended to be overstuffed with books and scrolls.

As he entered, he saw it hadn’t changed in that regard. Quills and ink bottles littered the desk and table and floor, along with open books, and half a dozen scrolls were pinned open on one stand.

Same ol’ Rose.

She and the other fey were sat at the table, worry creasing their brows.

“Sorry for the interruption, Dirk, we feel you needed to know this sooner rather than later,” Kanaya said.

“It’s about the thieves,” Feferi said.

“We think we know who they are,” Rose finished.

Dirk frowned as Jade pulled up a chair for him.

“Alright,” he said. “What do you know?”

“They’re called the Thieves of Flight, but they don’t limit themselves to stealing. They’re just a rumor in the confederation, and barely that,” Aradia admitted after they were a good mile or two outside the city. Karkat had been giving her expectant looks for the past few minutes, but she hadn’t budged until then.

He did his best to wait patiently for her to continue.

“I only know about them because we have Dersite and Prospitian scholars on our digs. Any chance to find lost signs of the gods or, really, anything to learn more about our shared history attracts them like flies. We used to be one land, you know, not divided by the rivers like now. There’s actually a theory that--”

“Aradia,” Karkat said, cutting her off, “you are killing me with anticipation here.”

Aradia looked hurt, so Karkat quickly added, “You can tell me about the digs later, okay?” and that did the trick to brighten her back up.

As weird as her smiling all the time was, her frowning upset him on a whole different level.

“Okay! Well, underhand dealings aren’t exactly unknown in Derse and Prospit, especially in Derse. Especially before the confederation formed.”

“I know,” Karkat said. “The confederation basically squashed it all out.”

She laughed, but not meanly. “That’s what they want you to think! The sky markets are still in full swing, but now people are more afraid to call the guards because what if they become suspect of being involved? It’s honestly quite fascinating how cracking down has actually increased the activity, I could spend hours talking about it, really-- but I won’t,” she added, seeing Karkat’s look.

“Suffice to say,” she continued, “you can buy just about anything or hire someone for just about anything. But there’s a whisper of a rumor in the confederation, that if you really want to get something done, you leave out an offering of eight clams on your balcony or whatever equivalent you have, and a pair of thieves, a used to be unheard of teamup of a Prospitian and Dersite, will arrive the next night, and you better have something interesting to offer them.”

“Clams? That’s what we’re worried about? Clam thieves?” Dirk asked skeptically.

“I admit, their method of contact lacks a certain... romantic touch,” Rose said.

Dirk snorted.

“Nah, that makes complete sense. Clams are great!” Feferi said, snickering.

Dirk had no idea if she was being sincere, so he ignored her.

“It’s true, though,” Kanaya said. “The Mother has had trouble with the pair before, and I would take seriously anyone willing to brave the Liminal Forests and poke what lies within.”

She and Rose shared a smirk that Dirk also ignored.

“Yeah, they’re a real pair of assholes,” Jade growled.

“Why didn’t we recognize them sooner?”

“No one’s seen them before,” Jade said. “They stay concealed when accepting their gig and never get found out until it’s too late, and we had no reason to suspect a pair of infamous thieves caused minor chaos at the tournament.”

“From what Prince Eridan says, most of the confederation don’t even truly believe they exist, they’re just like a ghost story to scare people new to the market. He knows better, though, and one of his informants confirmed it was them.”

“What do they want? Why mess with the tournament and not even succeed at getting away with the prize money?” Karkat asked

“No one knows why they do what they do, they generally just take whatever job and cause some chaos when they can,” Aradia finished.

“Well they certainly succeeded at that,” Karkat grumbled.

“What I’m trying to say is, don’t feel too bad you didn’t catch them! They’re slippery, to say the least.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it!”

“So why target the tournament?” Dirk asked. “And how did Roxy get tied up in all this?”

“The informant wasn’t sure, just said there’s talk of a bigger plan, which is practically unheard of for them, as far as anyone knows. As for Roxy… There’s no telling, but I think she’s in deep, Dirk.”

Aradia looked at Karkat expectantly.

“Do you, uh, want to tell me more about what you’re digging for or whatever?” he guessed.

Aradia lit up and flapped her hands. “Yes, yes, yes! So, as you know, we have twelve gods and goddesses, but there are two who rule above all others...”

Karkat settled into his saddle as much as he could as Aradia continued. It was going to be a long ride, but he was glad for the distraction along the way.

Dirk sighed to himself as he paced in his quarters, unable to sleep. He had been dreading this since the moment Roxy left her family -- she was getting in way over her head, even Rose thought so, and he had no way to contact her.

Rose said it was fine, that Roxy could handle herself, but she was backtracking on her urgent summons to tell him about it in the first place.

Unfortunately, she was also right about one thing, there wasn’t anything he could do; he just had to be ready for when she reached out.

Chapter Text

They were back on the road, again, after a night at the inn of one of the few small towns on the way to Prospit.

Aradia had spent most of the previous day talking about Skaian history, and the history of the continent, really, which was interesting enough, but Karkat had practically had to twist her arm to convince her to go to her room and let them both sleep last night.

She was perky again this morning, but so far fairly quiet during the past couple of hours of the ride, which was fine because they still had several more until they reached the road branching off to the area Aradia was set to study next, and then Karkat was on his own.

Despite his complaints of patrols being boring, this was the sort of calm he needed.

The cooling breeze of the changing season ruffled his hair and the sun sank deep in his bones, recharging him from the stress of the past few weeks.

Aradia smiled at him, and he found himself easily smiling back.

Yeah, this was exactly what he needed.

Dirk wasn’t avoiding Rose. He was just busy.

He had to make up the missed petitions from the previous day then meet with his agricultural advisors, as well as the nobles who owned the largest amounts of farmland. Meanwhile, some of the minor nobles had noticed Sir Vantas wasn’t with him this week, and kept insisting on pestering him, and somehow a glare from their ruler wasn’t as effective at scaring them off as one from his guard, despite their increase in stutters.

It annoyed him, but it also kept him from focusing on Roxy, which he appreciated.

The fact that it also kept him from even taking his meals with Rose was happenstance.

He was busy.

The breeze was getting colder, and he couldn’t feel the sun on his face anymore.

Where had those clouds come from?

Had he spaced out while riding? Surely more than an hour or two hadn’t passed.

Aradia was still smiling, humming to herself, but Karkat was put on edge.

Then there was a soft chittering.

High and then guttural.

The bushes and small trees lining the road moved against the wind.

Karkat held up a hand silently and Aradia saw it and stopped her cart.

He put a hand on the sword strapped to his hip.

The shrubbery shook violently one last time as a fox burst into the open, dashing across the road in front of them.

Karkat let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding and chuckled. 

Then the chittering got louder and their horses reared back in fright, their training seeming to be the only thing keeping them from bolting.

Karkat looked wildly around them and saw a dozen little humanoid creatures colored black and purplish red with small fangs lining their gaping mouths emerging from the shadows.

Imps.

Imps from the depths of the Liminal Forests over twenty miles into Skaia.

Karkat unsheathed his falchion and slashed down at the imps and saw Aradia pull out a whip and lash it at the ones surrounding her cart.

Its reach gave her an advantage he didn’t have so he swatted away a few immediately under him and hopped off his horse to get in the thick of things.

Two charged for him at once, but a swift swipe of his blade had them bursting into putrid ash and smoke. Aradia seemed to have taken care of a couple as well, as the rest seemed a bit more cautious about approaching either of them.

Karkat watched and waited for them to make a move, then heard a sound behind him and turned just in time to put his arm up to block an imp that had snuck around. Its dagger-sharp teeth sank into his arm and he cried out, shaking it wildly until Aradia snapped out with her whip and turned it to smoke.

“Thanks,” Karkat said between coughs.

She didn’t respond as her whip lashed out to another one coming at him, but the thing dodged.

Karkat struck out with his sword and got it instead, then swept out to get another two-in-one that were rushing at him.

Two more launched themselves at Aradia on her cart, and Karkat took care of one while she took care of the other.

The last two imps looked at each other and melded into a shadow and scurried away, but Karkat was faster.

He launched himself forward and slammed his heels and sword down on the darkness and was soon covered in the ash that exploded from their demise.

Karkat coughed some more and dusted himself off.

“As fun as that was,” Aradia said, “I don’t think that bodes well.”

Karkat shook his head. “We have to go back. His majesty has to know. C’mon, Aradia, if we hurry back now we can make it to the inn before nightfall and set off before daybreak in the morning.”

He swung himself back up onto his horse and turned it around, but Aradia stayed still.

“I’m not going back.”

He looked at her, eyes bugging. “What do you mean? We have to go back!”

“I’m going to the dig site. It’s where I need to be, and I can warn them about this, in case there are any more in the area. And without waiting on me, you’ll get there faster.”

“Aradia--”

“You go, Karkat, we each have our duties.”

Karkat shifted in his saddle. “I should at least go with you to the site, make sure you’re okay.”

She smirked at that. “I can take care of myself, your duty doesn’t lie with me.”

Karkat hesitated, then nodded. “Be safe, Aradia.”

“You too, Karkat.”

Then Karkat dug his heels into his horse and set off at a gallop back toward the castle.

The next two days had gone much like the last, with meetings and paperwork, and worrying, and trying not to worry.

There was no point when there was nothing he could do, and Dirk had to make sure his kingdom would be fed during the barren season.

That was what was important, as tedious as the work was.

It was late when he finally returned to his room, having had to stay well past nightfall to finish up his train of thought that kept getting interrupted by nuisances. Four days of not having Sir Vantas around seemed to embolden them after the week with him here.

Probably trying to get in their requests before he got back.

Of all things, he didn’t expect to be looking forward to having the knight’s eyes boring into the back of his head again.

Dirk had just changed into his sleepwear and was about to finally climb into bed when he heard a commotion echoing down the halls outside.

A shout and the thumps of something hitting the wall paired with heaving footsteps running on the stone floor.

Dirk grabbed the sword by his bed and cautiously peeked out into the hallway.

It was Sir Vantas, panting, covered in sweat and blood and what looked like ash.

As soon as his eyes laid on Dirk, he collapsed to his knees and hands.

“Physician, get a physician!” Dirk called as he dropped his sword and sprinted the last few steps to his guard.

Vantas did his best to straighten up as Dirk squatted before him.

“Majesty,” he said, then he coughed, more of that dark soot coating his hand as he did so.

“What happened?”

Karkat wheezed a few more breaths.

Dirk grabbed the knight’s shoulders. “Sir Vantas, who attacked you? Are they here? Are they coming?”

Vantas shook his head.

“Got them. Every last motherfucking pointy little gremlin I saw,” he said between coughs.

Dirk’s eyebrows creased. “Gremlin? What are you talking about?”

“Imps, majesty. Imps in Skaia. Dozens. Hundreds. I don’t know. I got them all.” Each short phrase he said came with another hack of black material.

Dirk’s hands tightened on Vantas’s arms reflexively, but he relaxed at the knight’s wince and let him go.

Someone was running down the hall toward them, a physician, he hoped.

“Imps? Are you sure?”

Vantas choked out a laugh and gestured to himself. “I’m pretty fucking sure, your majesty.”

The physician was in sight and quickly made her way to Vantas’s side.

The knight brushed her off. “‘M fine. Tired. Need sleep.”

She frowned at him. “I’ll be the judge of how fine you are, thank you. Let’s go get you cleaned up.

Dirk stood as the physician helped Vantas to his feet.

“Keep me updated on his status,” he said.

“I’m fine,” his guard growled.

“Will do,” the physician said.

Dirk watched them walk off, Vantas leaning heavily on the physician, and his mind reeled at the implications.

Rose.

He had to tell Rose.

As though he had summoned her, he saw her round the corner and walk swiftly toward him. He met her in the middle.

“What’s going on?” she asked, worry etched on her face.

“Imps. Vantas was attacked by imps. A lot of them.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure?”

“He was covered in their ash. Choking on it. ‘Pretty fucking sure,’” he quoted.

“That is… troubling.”

Dirk raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘no fucking shit,’ but she was too lost in thought to notice.

“I’ll reach out to the Confederation,” she finally said. “See if the princes know anything about this. Unless the imps swam the whole way, they would have had to cross over their borders.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to reach out?”

Rose smirked. “We already have somewhat of a… rapport, you could say.”

“And I don’t?” Dirk snorted.

“Not like I do. Plus, you’ll have your hands plenty full with everything else that needs to be taken care of.”

Dirk wanted to argue, but she was right. He had to contact the border guards, send missives to the manors on the outskirts, see if he could borrow forces from the ones closer to the capitol… the list went on.

“Fine,” he said. “Let me know when you hear back.”

“Of course. I also need to confer with the girls. They might have something to add. In the morning, cousin, unless you fear the imps are at our doorstep. You need to rest.”

Dirk nodded absently.

Rose turned to walk off, and before he could think better of it, Dirk said, “Thank you, Rose.”

She turned to face him fully again and smiled. “That’s what family’s for, Dirk. Now go to bed.”

Dirk just nodded again and walked back to his room and did as Rose said, going to bed, but unable to sleep, instead staring at the ceiling and imagining a host of worst case scenarios to combat.

Karkat had told her he was fine, but the physician hadn’t believed him until he washed off all the blood and ash to show only a handful or so of shallow cuts and bite marks scattered about his body. His cough was still terrible, but she said he just had to wait for all the ash to work its way out of his lungs.

Still, despite agreeing that he was fine, she made him stay the night in the infirmary for observation. It had been a long time since anyone had fought and imp, afterall, and even a tame dog bite could turn bad in the best of circumstances.

Karkat didn’t have the energy to fight. He struggled out of his tight undershirt, and as soon as he put his head on the pillow, he was out like a light, the exhaustion of two days of battle finally consuming him.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure he’ll be fine?”

Karkat rubbed his eyes, unwilling to open them yet.

“I’ve been monitoring him closely and changing his bandages as needed. Besides his cough, which is lessening, he’ll be fine once he wakes up fully.”

He vaguely remembered being woken up a few times. That explains why his surroundings felt so off. He was in the infirmary, the memory of the night before flooding back into his waking brain.

“I just want to be sure. He’s been through a lot, and I don’t want to push him if he needs more time to heal.”

Karkat froze, his mind now registering the voices. That was the prince.

“This would have been a fantastic attitude to have a few weeks ago, but now it is unnecessary,” the physician said.

There was a long moment of silence.

Karkat wanted to cough, but he didn’t want to alert them he was awake yet.

“I-I’m sorry, highness, that was out of--”

“It’s fine. You’re right. I will do better to take your advice into account, so if you say he is fine to go out, I’ll trust you.”

“He’s not ready for battle of any sort, mind you, too exhausted, I’d wager. But if you’ll just be in meetings and on horseback, there’s no cause for concern.”

“Very well. Send him to my study when he wakes.”

“Yes, highness.”

There was the sound of a door closing, and Karkat finally let out the cough he’d been holding back.

The physician was at his side a moment later, handing him a cloth to hack into. It came away littered with black, but not as much as the previous night.

“Eavesdropping, are we?” the physician asked, amused.

Karkat shrugged sheepishly.

“Yes, well, you were bound to hear it eventually, since I’ve had to assure him you aren’t on death’s door ever since you stumbled in.”

Karkat’s brow furrowed. “He was here last night?”

She chuckled. “No, all yesterday. Not surprised you don’t remember it. You’ve been in and out, mostly out, since the night before.”

Karkat frowned. He didn’t like losing a whole day. “What else did I miss?”

“Nothing important. No imps, if that’s what you’re fearing. His highness mostly just sent off notices to various nobles he’d need to meet with, and spoke with his advisers. Even let his clerks do some paperwork, from what I hear.”

Karkat’s laugh quickly turned into a cough.

“Yes, I’m afraid that will keep happening for another day or two. Perhaps I should commission some masks if imps are to become a real issue.” She sighed. “Imps in Skaia, of all the strange and terrible things.”

They were silent for a moment, then she shook her head, “Well, Prince Diederik requested you as soon as you were ready, which I’m sure you heard, so let me check over you and change your bandages one more time and you’ll be good to go.”

Karkat nodded, and let the physician prod and examine him all over. Most of his bandages didn’t need to be put back on, since everything had been fairly shallow. The only thing that really irked him was his instructions not to wear his undershirt until his cough went away, just to be safe.

When the examination was done, he slipped off to his room to change into something more loose and layered, then made his way to the prince’s study.

There was a knock on the door to Dirk’s study.

“Come in,” he said.

The door opened and in stepped Strider.

Dirk stared at him.

“They wouldn’t let me see him,” Strider said.

“I-I instructed that they make sure he rested with no interruptions. I didn’t consider--”

“How is he?”

“He’s fine. Should be out today. We’ll be busy, but I can tell him--”

“No. That’s fine. He’s fine.” The tension left Strider’s shoulder and brow as he sighed.

Dirk wanted to say something else, but worried about breaking this… whatever it was.

“I--”

Strider cut him off with a look. “Keep him out of trouble, majesty . Don’t fuck this up.”

Before Dirk could say anything else, he left.

Karkat turned into the hall that led to the prince’s study and smacked right into someone.

He let out a shout and a grumbled, “Watch where you’re going,” then looked up and saw it was Dave.

He tried not to beam. “You’re back!”

Dave smiled as he straightened his clothes back out. “So are you. Feeling okay?”

Karkat’s body took this question as a good time to cough, more black gunk coming out onto the cloth the physician gave him.

He waved off Dave’s worried look. “I’m still fine. This’ll go away in a day or two. Everything else was minor.”

Dave hugged him tight, then released him when he started coughing again. “Sorry.”

Karkat waved that off too.

“You’re one lucky motherfucker, to come out with a couple scratches. Or unlucky for you to have gotten mobbed to begin with. I can’t tell which.”

“How about ‘extremely brave and talented to keep them all off me’?” Karkat offered.

Dave smirked. “Yeah, that, too.”

Karkat swatted him. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Dave shrugged. “Hoping to bump into you, I guess. They wouldn’t let me into the infirmary.”

“Yeah, well, apparently I was fuckin’ out basically all yesterday so you didn’t miss anything.”

“That’s what I hear. The captain’s worried about you, too. I’ll let her know you’re okay.”

“I’ll try to see her when I can. I don’t know what his majesty has planned for me.”

“That makes two of us,” Dave muttered.

Karkat gave him a questioning look.

“It’s nothing. Just try not to attract any more trouble, okay?”

“No promises,” Karkat laughed, this time managing not to turn it into a cough.

Dave clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, your liege awaits. See you around, ‘Kat.”

“Bye, Dave.”

He watched Dave go, trying not to think about how odd it was to see him in this wing of the castle. Wasn’t any of his business, he supposed.

He knocked on the door to the study.

“Come in,” the prince said.

If his voice sounded shakey, Karkat pushed that aside, as well.

Karkat pushed open the door and bowed. “You wanted to see me, majesty?” When he straightened, he saw the prince looking at him curiously, thumbing the thin, pink scar on his cheek.

He looked down on the papers on his desk and straightened them absently. “Yes, we have a lot to do this upcoming week. I have already sent out requests for the farther out lords to come in, or send someone who can speak on their behalf, but we can still meet with those in and around the city.” He moved the stack of papers to the side and stood up. “Lord Egbert will be our first stop, today, so let’s--”

Karkat’s stomach let out a loud growl. He felt his face redden as he very intently looked at something on the wall rather than Prince Diederik.

“Let’s… go get you some food. Forgive me for not taking that into consideration.”

Karkat just blinked at him, unsure whether he should protest, but the prince was already heading out the door, so he quickly followed behind.

It was between the usual breakfast and lunch hours, so the dining hall was blessedly empty when the two showed up.

A servant who was lounging in one of the chairs bolted up and bowed.

“Fetch us whatever the cooks have ready. Leftovers from breakfast will be fine,” his majesty said.

“Right away!” The servant bowed again then darted off to do as he was instructed.

The prince went to the head of the table and sat, gesturing for Karkat to take the seat on his right, which Karkat did.

There was an awkward silence between them, broken only by Karkat’s occasional coughing.

Prince Diederik finally cleared his throat and said, “So, Sir Vantas, how are--”

The servant came back with a cart loaded with food: Breads, fruits, eggs, cheeses, and hams piled high with a pitcher of watered down wine to accompany it.

The prince’s lip quirked down as he looked at it, but he thanked and dismissed the servant who brought it.

He loaded up his plate and Karkat followed suit, and tried not to be embarrassed when he realized how much more he grabbed than his majesty.

Karkat immediately dug in, but the prince tried again, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, majesty,” he said.

This was once again punctuated by a cough. He could not catch a break this morning.

The prince frowned as he coughed and said, “I was told that would go away shortly. I hope it isn’t causing you too much discomfort.”

Karkat shook his head. “I’m good for whatever you need me for, majesty.”

Prince Diederik nodded, taking a few bites of food -- a far cry from the several eggs and pieces of ham Karkat had already downed.

“I believe I have been stealing your free time, including your day set for training tomorrow.”

Karkat shrugged. “‘S fine, majesty.”

“I don’t wish to be your sole focus. Your duties and relationships outside of this new position are equally important,” the prince said, as though choosing his words carefully.

“We’re all busy, majesty, especially with these f-- with these imps, I imagine. I did see Dave, though, so that’s…”

He noticed the prince shift in his seat when he said his friend’s name, and he immediately regretted it. What was going on between those two?

No.

He promised Dave he wouldn’t pry.

“You are… close with Sir Strider, then?”

“We’re friends, if that’s what you’re asking,” Karkat said warily.

Prince Diederik nodded and picked at his plate some more, until he saw Karkat was finished with his. “More?” he asked.

Karkat shook his head.

The prince gestured to the waiting servant to take their plates away, then stood up. “Best be off. Lord Egbert is expecting us.”

Karkat stood as well and followed Prince Diederik out of the castle and to a waiting carriage.

The prince climbed in first, while Karkat hesitated.

“I should… get my horse,” he said.

The prince poked his head out of the carriage. “It will be easier for us to talk. I wish to learn more about your fights with the imps before we get to the Egbert estate.”

Karkat bit his lip, then followed the prince in.

The first several minutes of the ride went in silence, Sir Vantas anxiously tugging at the ends of his shirt and readjusting his sword, coughing occasionally into a cloth that was slowly growing greyer as the day went on.

Dirk didn’t want to overwhelm him with more questions, but maybe they would take his mind off the ride. Plus, he said that’s why he wanted the knight in with him, so best live up to that.

“You said you didn’t know how many imps you fought?” Dirk prodded.

Vantas shook his head. “No, majesty. I lost count after the third attack.”

Dirk raised his eyebrows. “Do you know how many times you were attacked, at least?”

Karkat started ticking off on his hands. “Twice before the inn, once at the inn, but that was a smaller group, another… Three, four times before the capitol? Nothing when I got within five miles of it.”

Troubling that they were so far into the country, but not as troubling as it could be.

Dirk was pleased to see the knight’s fidgeting had quieted, though.

“How close were you to the border when you were first attacked?”

“Not close, majesty. Aradia was still with me. She had me come back after we were attacked.”

Dirk sat up straight. “Aradia? Is she okay? Why didn’t she come back with you?”

“She wanted to warn those at the site of what was happening. Said I would be faster without her, anyway.”

Dirk must have still looked worried because Karkat added, “She can handle herself. She saved my a-- saved me in the first fight.”

Dirk nodded. He knew Aradia could take care of herself, still… Well, nothing to be done about her decision now.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, and Vantas’s nervous energy started up again.

Dirk sought his mind for a question that wouldn’t push too hard, like he thought he had gotten close to when he asked about Strider, and he cursed himself when what came out was, “Why did you become a knight?”

Vantas looked at him, not quite glaring, but not happy. “Why do people keep asking me that?”

“Simple curiosity, Sir Vantas. You’re free to not answer.” Definitely pushed him too much.

Vantas chewed his lip again. “I wanted to protect people. Serve a greater purpose. On my own terms.”

“Some would consider serving others to inherently be on someone else’s terms.”

Karkat shook his head. “It’s still my choice. I can choose to disobey, to leave, it’s not like…”

He trailed off and looked out the window.

“It’s different,” he finished.

Dirk didn’t press him further.

Chapter Text

They were silent the rest of the way to the city, and once in it, it was just a few turns from the gate to get them to Lord Egbert’s estate, a two story building surrounded on either side by two smaller houses. 

Their carriage was let in through the gate and parked in front of the door, where Lord Egbert himself was waiting to greet them.

Sir Vantas exited quickly, then stood by the carriage door as Dirk followed him.

Lord Egbert smiled widely when he saw Vantas, then bowed deeply to Dirk. “My liege,” he said, his voice more teasing than serious.

“Lord Egbert,” Dirk replied. “Apologies for any interruptions, but this is urgent, as my note indicated."

“Come, now, Dirky-boy! Must you be so formal? Mi casa es tu casa, as they say. Come in, come in.”

Dirk frowned at him, but wasn’t actually displeased, as he and Vantas were led inside. He thought perhaps the shock on Sir Vantas’s face was worth it, at least.

They were led to a sitting room, and John gestured to a plush loveseat for Dirk to sit in while John sat on a larger couch.

Vantas stood next to Dirk, but John gestured for him to sit as well. “Come now, Sir Knight, it’s just us boys, and you look worse for wear. Have a seat.”

To both Dirk’s, and presumably Vantas’s, discomfort, the seat being gestured to was the other cushion on the loveseat.

Vantas sat as far to the edge as he could and Dirk scooted to his edge as well, glaring at John who seemed to be enjoying watching the two of them squirm.

“I’m surprised Sir Strider isn’t with you,” he mused. “Usually I can’t separate these two for the life of me.”

Sir Vantas snorted and John raised his eyebrows. “Something to say, Karkat?”

“No, John ,” Vantas retorted.

“Come now, you may speak freely here, I encourage it! From what I hear it’s unlike you to bite your tongue.”

Dirk had no idea what was going on between them.

“Fine. I simply think that it isn’t me who can’t be separated from Dave.”

Oh. Dirk would… file this away for future consideration.

John waggled his eyebrows. “Jealous?”

“Not on your life.”

John laughed until Vantas started coughing into his cloth again, and then his eyebrows creased and he looked genuinely concerned. “ That doesn’t seem good,” he said.

“It’s why I’m here to see you today,” Dirk said.

John sighed. “And here I thought you just missed me.”

“There are imps in Skaia, dimwit,” Vantas interrupted. Apparently he was really enjoying this freedom to talk deal.

That shut Egbert up, his mouth hanging open slightly. He blinked a few times, looking between Dirk and Vantas.

“He’s not serious, Dirk. Imps?”

“He’s very serious, John. Imps.”

John looked like he wanted to laugh but he was still shocked. “What do you need from me?”

“Whatever knights you can spare to patrol around the city, and resources for any others coming through. They were last seen five miles east of here, and I need to know if they get any closer and prevent them from entering.”

“Done,” John said. “I can send five on rotation and halt unnecessary trips out that direction as well. Do you know why they’re here? Or how?”

Dirk shook his head. “It’s being looked into, but we just found out the night before last, so it might be some time before we get to the bottom of it.

John nodded. “I understand. Let me know if there is anything else I can do to help.”

“You’ll be the first,” Dirk said, smirking.

“Well, I assume I’m not the only stop today. Off to Eq next?”

Dirk nodded.

“Then I won’t take up more of your time teasing the two of you, as fun as it is.”

Karkat snorted again.

“Thank you, John.” Dirk stood up and Karkat did as well.

“Of course, of course. Next time try to see me when it’s not an emergency, okay?”

“No promises.”

John laughed and walked them out to their carriage and waved after them as it left.

Lord Zahhak lived to the northwest of the city, over near where the tournament was held. 

Prince Diederik was silent for the first few minutes of the trip, then said, “So, you know John?”

Karkat wanted to laugh, but thought it best to assume his ability to speak freely was solely in Egbert’s sitting room. “Only through Dave.”

The prince looked like he was struggling with something. “The two are… close, then?”

He may not be snooping into whatever was going on between the prince and Dave anymore, but he wasn’t going to give out more than necessary. “You could say that.”

“I see.”

He looked uncomfortable, and that so wasn’t Karkat’s problem, but he found himself saying, “It’s a good thing. They’re good for each other.”

“I’m… glad to hear it, then,” the prince said. And he did look somewhat relieved. “How long have you been a knight?”

Still eager to change the subject, though, apparently.

Karkat thought for a second. “Three years, officially, seven more of training.”

“You started older than most, then, from what I hear.”

Karkat shrugged. “There were some older, mostly the second children of nobles trying to do something useful since they can’t inherit. But, yeah, for those of us raised in the sanctuary, I was one of the oldest starting out.”

The prince hummed his acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything else.

Lord Zahhak’s estate was larger than Egbert’s, with a few more small buildings surrounding it on a couple hundred acres of land.

A butler was waiting for them at the entrance to the main building, and ushered them to the dining room, the table of which was piled with fresh fruits and vegetables.

“M’lord will be here in a moment,” the butler said. “Please enjoy these refreshments while you wait.” He then bowed and left.

The prince began idly munching on the offered food, and when he noticed Karkat looking, gestured for him to do so as well.

Though his breakfast had been filling enough, it had been a few hours by now, and Karkat didn’t say no to free food.

If he had had any hesitation before, he sure didn’t after seeing the look on Zahhak’s face when he walked in and saw him eating with the prince.

Said prince must have noticed it too, because he said, “Is there a problem, Lord Equius?” and huh that was more familiar than he was with Egbert at first.

“No, you highness, forgive me. I just didn’t expect your guard to be joining you.”

“Wouldn’t be much use of a guard if he didn’t, would he?” Prince Diederik responded an honest to gods smirk playing across his lips.

Was he teasing him?

“No, of course not, how silly of me, your majesty. It is only natural you would use your subjects as you see fit, and you have deemed this one strong enough to be useful for protection, so that is his utmost responsibility now.” The last seemed to be more directed at Karkat than it was at the prince.

“Strangely enough, protection is why I’m here,” the prince said. “I have use of yours.”

The noble had been sweating before, like he always was, but there was now a notable sheen across his face. He dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief.

“Anything, my liege.”

“We have imps in the kingdom. My knights and whatever other nobles can spare will be going on constant patrols. I need your horses around at as many inns and other willing locales around the country as possible for them to switch out with, to not wear any of the poor beasts down.”

“Imps? Surely you jest!”

“Do you not believe me, Lord Equius?”

Oh, he was definitely teasing him. Karkat’s stomach did a strange flip and he stopped eating, much more invested in the interaction now.

Zahhak bowed so low he went beyond bending in half. “Of course I believe you, my lord, please forgive me for my gross overstep. Please punish me however you see fit to make up for this terrible crime of daring to doubt your word.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, simply whatever horses you can spare.”

“As you wish, sire. I will get on it post-haste.”

“See that you do, Lord Equius, and send word of your progress.” His majesty rose to leave and Zahhak straightened up.

“Must you depart so soon, your highness?”

“There is other business to attend to, I’m afraid. Thank you for the hospitality you’ve shown me and my most trusted knight. I will hear from you soon.”

Both Karkat and Zahhak started at the phrase “most trusted knight,” but Karkat was quicker on the uptake and clambored to follow the prince out the door while Lord Zahhak stood in the dining room staring after them.

Prince Diederik didn’t say anything when they got back in the carriage, even after ten minutes went by with Karkat awkwardly coughing.

“So,” he finally said.

The prince looked at him, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Uh,” he said.

“Something on your mind, Sir Vantas?”

“It’s none of my business,” Karkat said quickly, his stomach twisting again.

His majesty shifted in his seat to more fully face Karkat. “Well, now you have me curious. Speak freely.”

Not needing to be told twice, he immediately asked, “What the fuck is between you and Lord Zahhak?”

The prince’s face split into a grin and he laughed and Karkat was reminded of the last moment they had spoken before he left for his patrol. It was such a rare sight.

He shifted in his seat and shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. “If there’s nothing going on, you can just say so.”

“Since you were bold enough to ask, I’ll answer honestly,” Prince Diederik said, still smiling, if more lightly now. “I will admit there is something of a flirtation on my part, he is both attractive and fun to tease, and what else do you really need? But he is… otherwise occupied, so to say, and there has never been any real intent behind my actions.”

Karkat, who was pretending he wasn’t blushing furiously, just nodded, the feeling in his gut easing somewhat.

“I presume it goes without saying that you’re not to speak a word of this to anyone else,” the prince added.

Karkat nodded again, already wondering what Dave’s reaction to this was going to be.

Another question was bothering him, though.

“Can I still speak freely?”

The prince nodded.

“Why the fuck did it take you so long to get a guard?”

His majesty shrugged. “Didn’t feel like I needed one, then I started to feel I was asking to be proven wrong.”

Something about the way he said it didn’t feel true, but Karkat couldn’t pin down the feeling enough to prod at it. “I’d say the festival proved that feeling correct,” he said instead.

The prince absently rubbed the scar on his cheek. “Lucky you were there, then.” He wasn’t smiling anymore.

Karkat took this as his cue to change the topic.

“Where are we heading next?”

“The Muse’s Sanctuary.”

Karkat jumped. “What? Why there?”

The prince eyed him. “Recruits. Why? I thought you would enjoy the chance to go back.”

He shrugged. “Just… surprised, I guess.”

“Hm,” is all the prince said in response.

Sir Vantas became more and more anxious the closer they got to the sanctuary he spent his later adolescence in, which Dirk found to be curious.

He still exited first when the carriage pulled up to their doors, and waited for Dirk to exit as well before moving, but as soon as he saw the matron of the sanctuary, a tall, stoutly built, late middle aged woman, he visibly paled.

Dirk had spoken to the matron often enough, and she was a pleasant woman, so he didn’t understand the knight’s reaction until--

“Why if it isn’t little Karkat Vantas!” the matron made it to them in three long strides and pinched the man’s cheek, beaming all the while.

“H’llo, Dolorosa,” Vantas responded sheepishly.

Dolorosa extended her arms wide, and Dirk caught Vantas glance at him for a split second before obliging and hugging her.

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him to her middle, his head barely reaching her shoulder.

Dirk, being a serious and dedicated ruler of Skaia, did not laugh.

Okay, he might have chuckled.

Okay, he absolutely did, and earned the glare Vantas shot at him from between Dolorosa’s arms.

Dirk cleared his throat, and Dolorosa released the knight.

“My apologies, your highness, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, as well!” She opened her arms to him.

“That won’t be nece--okay.” It was his turn to be wrapped in her embrace and Vantas’s turn to snicker. He also didn’t come up much higher than her shoulder.

When he was released, Dirk said, “I’m afraid I am here on rather serious business. If we may go inside?”

“Of course!” Dolorosa led the way in and then to a large play area, a handful of children, the oldest maybe 10, crowding around them as soon as they entered.

“Who’re you?” one asked.

“He’s fancy,” another pointed out.

“Is that sword real?” a third asked with awe.

“Karkat!” yet another screamed.

“Now, children, the prince” (“The prince!” the last one shrieked.) “is here on important business. Please give us a moment to talk.”

The five nodded solemnly, but were also fidgeting in place.

Dolorosa sighed affectionately. “Karkat, dear, would you mind? The others are watching the older children out back.”

“Fine,” Sir Vantas grumbled. “C’mon, kiddos,” he said more loudly, squatting down and holding his arms out stiff to his sides, “grab on.”

The child who had recognized him and the other one who had screamed grabbed on eagerly, and squealed in delight as Vantas stood back up and twirled around, the pair swinging freely off his arms.

“He acts like he hates it, but he’s wonderful with the little ones,” Dolorosa whispered to Dirk conspiritorily. 

Dirk broke his gaze away and cleared his throat again, ignoring the odd tightness in his chest. “It’s the older ones that bring me here today.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Imps are in Skaia. None have reached the capital, as far as we know, but if there are any of your pages who are close to taking the test to join the knights, I could use them as extra patrols in it, just as a precaution.”

Dolorosa eyed him. “You want to send my children against imps ?”

“Hopefully not, it’s just a precaution,” he said again. “I’m trying to prevent them from getting to the city in the first place.”

She sighed and drew a hand through her short bob of hair. “Very well. I have a few who are almost ready to test, I can send them to the city. When do you need them?”

“As soon as you can spare them.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

“Thank you, Matron Dolorosa. Send them to Lord Egbert, he’ll know what to do with them.”

She nodded. “Well, if that’s all…”

“It is,” Dirk confirmed.

“Again! Again! Again!” the three children not currently latched onto Vantas were screaming.

Dolorosa clapped once in a way that echoed in the room. They immediately stopped and turned toward her expectantly, including Vantas, much to Dirk’s amusement.

“Our guests must be leaving now, children,” she said.

A chorus of “aw”s rang out. She nodded sadly with them.

“They have important business to attend to, and we must leave them to it. Say goodbye.”

The chorus was replaced with “bye”s and “bye, Karkat”s and Vantas’s arms were released. He ruffled the hair of the last two who had been on him then followed Dirk out and to the carriage, but not before Dolorosa squeezed another hug out of him (one Dirk was thankfully able to avoid).

“Come visit more often! Dave comes at least once a month.”

“Yes, m-- matron,” Vantas said, and Dirk was quite certain that was not the word he was originally going to use for her.

Dirk, again, being a very serious and dedicated ruler, did not laugh.

It wasn’t until they were both seated and the carriage took off that Dirk realized how tired Sir Vantas looked. He supposed it had been a very active day, especially with his cough. It was good, then, that they were set to go back to the castle, even though they still had a couple more hours of daylight. His knight needed more rest.

Karkat was blessedly dismissed as soon as they reached the castle, and he made a beeline to his room, too tired to even grab a bite to eat for dinner.

He stripped out of most of his outer clothes, leaving on one of his loose shirts, and crawled into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

When he awoke with a start, the sun had long since set.

Adrenaline was pumping in his veins, and he tried to calm himself and take stock of what was going on -- he didn’t remember a bad dream to jolt him awake.

Then he heard it.

A scream.

Prince Diederik’s scream.

He bolted out of bed, grabbed his sword, and burst into the adjoining room with it at the ready.

But there was no one else in the room; the prince was still in his bed.

Another scream came.

From the bed.

“Majesty?” Karkat asked.

He cautiously walked over to the prince’s bedside.

Prince Diederik was tossing and turning and groaning and sweating and mumbling words Karkat couldn’t make out. He curled in on himself and cried out again.

“Majesty?” Karkat repeated.

He reached out, hand hesitating over the prince’s shoulder.

Then the prince’s breathing calmed and Karkat watched his muscles loosen.

He stood there, hand still hovering, for another few minutes, but the prince didn’t make any more noise.

So Karkat left him and went back to his own room and fell back into a troubled sleep.

Chapter Text

Sir Vantas was waiting outside his room with a tray of food when Dirk exited the next morning. He knew he had slept in later than he intended, and still felt tired, but he was still surprised the man was already so prepared to start the day, sure he would still be exhausted from his encounter with the imps. If Vantas also seemed to be avoiding looking at him, well, Dirk could discount that as his usual paranoia and not look too deeply into it.

“Good morning, Sir Vantas,” he greeted.

“Morning, majesty,” the knight mumbled back.

“Lots of meetings today, I’m afraid,” he continued, leading the way to the study.

Vantas followed dutifully behind, only pushing in front when they reached the door so he could open it.

Dirk’s amusement was quickly cut short as the tray clattered to the floor. Vantas gave a quick look behind them, then shoved Dirk back and drew his sword, darting into the room. By the time Dirk recovered, Vantas had a woman with a wavy bob of red hair wearing layers of sheer fabrics pinned against the window behind the desk, sword at her throat.

Her eyebrows were raised, but she looked otherwise calm as she stared down at the shorter man. “Good morning, highness. Mind calling off your pet?”

Vantas, honest to gods, growled at her.

“Good morning, Lady Phia. Perhaps this will teach you to wait for me to summon you next time. You may release her, Sir Vantas.”

His guard obliged, but still watched her warily as he stepped back and she straightened out her clothes.

“You love it when I surprise you, my liege,” she said, smirking lightly as she rounded the desk. She curtsied low and said, “My apologies for startling you, though.”

Dirk did not smirk as he passed her and Vantas and sat, gesturing for her to do the same. “Apology accepted.”

She relaxed into the chair, throwing her legs over one of the arms. “Now, my darling prince, what can I do for you?”

Vantas seemed startled at the pet name.

“There’s a situation I’ll need your help with planning against.”

She perked up. “Oh? If you’re admitting to needing my help, it must be serious.”

Dirk nodded. “Imps have been spotted in the kingdom, as far in as five miles from the capital. I need you to work with Captain Pyrope to figure out how to best secure our borders and mobilize whatever troops you and the other nobles can spare.”

“Imps?” Lady Phia’s brow was furrowed. “This will be a challenge.”

“Not too much, I hope,” Dirk teased.

“Never, my dear. I’m not your strategist for nothing. I’m just glad you’re finally using me.” She winked at Vantas, who, from the corner of Dirk’s eye, seemed at least a little baffled by their rapport. It was nice to keep the man on his toes.

“The less of this sort of use I have for you, the better, Lady Phia.”

She sighed dramatically and rose from the chair. “Fair enough, highness. I assume this is all you need of me?”

Dirk nodded.

“Then I’ll get to it; lots of planning to do.”

She started to head out, but Dirk said, “And Lady Phia?”

She turned back. “Yes, dear?”

“Find someone to clean up the mess you caused and to fetch me a new breakfast.

She curtsied. “As you wish.”

She opened the door and almost walked into another noble standing outside of it.

“Domi, dearest! How wonderful to see you!” She hugged the newcomer, who Dirk recognized from the tournament, and kissed her on both cheeks.

Lady Carmia seemed somewhat befuddled. “Phia? It’s good to see you, too, but, why…?” She gestured at the dropped tray and scattered food.

Lady Phia patted her cheeks. “It’s being taken care of. Now, I must be off. Do enjoy your time with our liege. Quite interesting news, he has.”

And before Lady Carmia could say anything in response, she was out and down the hall.

Carmia stared after her for a second, then shook her head and entered the room fully, curtsying to Dirk, then sat when he gestured for her to do so.

“How can I help, your highness?”

A parade of nobles and advisors came and went over the rest of the day, only being interrupted by a servant bringing the prince’s breakfast, then later his and Karkat’s lunch and dinner.

Though Karkat’s cough was almost completely gone, he still got his share of concerned looks from Prince Diederik’s various visitors, until he was eventually instructed to sit and rest, which he tried to resist, but was ultimately grateful he accepted.

After more horses and troops and funds and food and whatever else Karkat lost track of was secured and the last noble left as the sun was beginning to set, the prince leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh.

“Enough work for today, I think. The rest can wait until tomorrow.”

Karkat stood as he did and followed him out the door and to their rooms.

“You know the drill, Sir Vantas. Same time tomorrow. Good night.”

Karkat could only nod back and head to his room swiftly, his mind on the prince’s restless sleep the night before, hoping it was just a one off.

It wasn’t.

It wasn’t as loud, this time, but Karkat had been unintentionally waiting for it and had been sleeping lightly when the muffled shouts began.

He didn’t get out of bed this time.

He placed a pillow over his head and tried to fall back asleep.

Chapter Text

Though Dirk had woken up earlier than the day before, Sir Vantas was once again ready and waiting for him with a tray of food, looking as tired as ever. He repressed a frown. The knight’s coughing had basically gone away by now, so Dirk thought he should be looking more rested, not less. Maybe there was something else?

Whatever. It wasn’t Dirk’s business unless it started affecting his performance.

He grabbed a pastry off the tray and munched on it as they headed to the study.

Thankfully there were no surprise guests this time when Vantas opened the door -- no need to waste another breakfast -- but it wasn’t long before the first noble of the day showed up.

A man with unruly dark hair practically covering his golden eyes and a condescending smirk playing on his lips walked in. Dirk was somewhat pleased when he noticed Sir Vantas tense out the corner of his eye, since the noble looked so different outside of the tournament, but greeted the man as he did all the others he had summoned.

“Good morning, Lord Captor. Have a seat.”

Lord Captor plopped down into the offered chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on Dirk’s desk, his chin on his hands. “What the fuck is up, highness? If I didn’t know you called half the kingdom here, I’d think you wanted to chew me out for that tournament bullshit again.”

Dirk could feel Vantas seething next to him.

“I am not quite as petty as that. No, I require your troops and your traps. There are imps in the kingdom, and we need to reinforce our borders.”

“And if I say thanks but no fucking thanks?” Captor sneered.

Vantas started forward, fists balled up at his sides. “You little fucking--”

“Sir Vantas,” Dirk said sternly, holding up his hand to stop Vantas from continuing forward. “Control yourself.”

Vantas sighed heavily and stepped back. “Yes, majesty.”

“Seems like you need to train your guard dog better. Or muzzle him.” Captor snickered.

Dirk ignored that. “If you say no, I will not force you, but I also will not spare anyone to back you up if you end up needing it, as close to the border as you are.”

Lord Captor shrugged. “Fair enough. I doubt I’ll need your help anyway. But,” he added, “imps aren’t something you see every day, and I’m not going to pass up the fucking chance of a lifetime to figure out how to trap the little shits. I’m in.”

“Very well. Get with Lady Phia and Captain Pyrope to figure out the best placements for your troops and traps. They should have their own preparations already underway. You’re dismissed.”

Captor didn’t say anything else, just sneered at Dirk and Vantas then bowed shallowly and left.

Dirk turned to his guard. “You’re dismissed as well, Sir Vantas.”

Vantas balked. “What?”

“Go blow off some steam training, or whatever it is you need to do to not threaten my guests.”

“I didn’t--”

“Not this time, but you got close. You need to learn to deal with unpleasant people, Sir Vantas. Everyone has their use. Plus, it was not my intention to keep you from your fellow knights or training entirely. So take the rest of the day off, and come back with a better attitude tomorrow.”

“But--”

Dirk cut him off with a look.

His shoulders slumped, but he bowed and said, “Yes, majesty,” then left.

Dirk sighed as he watched him go. He hoped this would help. He really couldn’t do much with a guard ready to go off at anyone he disliked, as much as he wouldn’t mind seeing that smirk get knocked off of Captor’s face.

Not to mention he wouldn’t have much use of Vantas at all if he kept him to himself too much. Dealing with the imps was going to be a hindrance enough, as it was.

Karkat was no less irritable as he made his way out of the castle and to the training grounds, but he started to feel better as soon as he laid eyes on Dave fighting against Jandi in one of the rings.

When Dave caught sight of him, he paused, and Jandi used that to his advantage and slammed his practice sword down on Dave’s shoulder. Karkat laughed as Dave yelped and yielded and made his way over to Karkat, Jandi laughing behind him before finding someone else to spar against.

“Did ya get let out early for good behavior?” Dave asked as he approached.

Karkat started walking over to find a place to sit in the shade, and rolled his eyes as he said, “Kind of the opposite, actually.”

“You know, I’d get onto you, but the prince basically signed up for this. I’m just glad you’re doing okay.”

They found a tree and sat under it. Karkat leaned against it and sighed. “Yeah, well I’m glad I managed to catch you. From the sounds of it just about everyone’s going to be deployed across the kingdom to keep this imp shit from getting out of hand.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m one of the couple chosen to stay and guard the castle, so I’ll still be hanging around.”

Karkat sighed and felt some of the stress leave him. “That is the best fucking news I’ve heard all week.”

“Aw, I missed you, too.” Dave snickered.

Karkat shoved him, but Dave just laughed harder.

“So how is it? Working for the prince. Everything you ever dreamed?”

Karkat snorted. “Past me was an idiot for wanting a job like this. Besides running into the imps, which is part of my normal shit, anyway, it’s been boring. And… kinda weird?”

“Oh?” Dave asked, voice sounding passive, but body tensing.

“I mean, like, he’s the prince, you know. He does royal bullshit and everyone has to bow to him and call him all these stupid titles and fucking prostrate ourselves before him, basically. But…” Karkat chewed his lip for a moment, and Dave waited silently. “He’s also a person? I mean, no shit he’s a person, like of course he’s a person, but there’s a difference between knowing it and seeing it, and he doesn’t let it show all the time, but sometimes his whole princely demeanor will slip for just a second and I’ll go ‘huh, there’s a whole-ass person under there.’ You know?”

“As opposed to a half-ass person,” Dave said.

Karkat shoved him again. “I’m being serious, you dick.”

Dave laughed. “Yeah, I getcha, ‘Kat. He puts his pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us. Wait. He does put his own pants on, right? Karkat, you’d tell me if he had someone else put his pants on for him.”

“I’m not fucking in there when he dresses, dipshit, but yeah, as far as i know, he does that shit himself. He does a lot himself.” The last was said more softly, more to himself than to Dave.

They sat in silence for a moment, then Dave nudged him. “You up for a match?”

Karkat smiled. “Thought you’d never ask.”

They sparred for a few hours, and talked for a few more. Dave was dutifully scandalized by their prince flirting with Lord Zahhak, and Karkat enjoyed watching his ears redden when he told him about meeting Egbert. They had lunch and dinner in the mess hall and Karkat was quickly surrounded by the knights who had yet to be sent on extra patrols throwing their own questions at him. He didn’t manage to see the captain, but the others promised to pass along that he was doing well.

He had missed this. Missed them. By the time the sun was setting and he had to head back to the castle, his heart was lighter, all irritation and tiredness washed away.

It didn’t stop him from being woken up by the prince’s screams again. Was this the real reason why he never had a guard? Did he not realize he was still doing it? It hadn’t happened the first week, so maybe he didn’t know.

They quieted more quickly than the previous nights, but Karkat was already wide awake. He sighed and lit a few candles, then dug one of the books he bought out of his bag.

The next most recent was about the Dersite/Prospitian war and the formation of the confederacy. Karkat was still at the sanctuary at the time, and Dolorosa had told them a bit about it, but he honestly hadn’t retained much.

The book contained information Karkat mostly knew: Derse and Prospit had been at each other’s throats for generations, the prince stepped in and fixed it all up, but there’s still talk of the peace being a bit unsteady. What he learned was it was the prince of the Bilious Plains who asked Prince Diederik to step in, and everyone expected that to mean all out war, but he was able to work, mostly with Prince Eridan, to reach agreeable compromises. 

This author seemed to have their own agenda, just as the last one, now instead casting suspicion onto Rose, who had ruled while the prince was away.

Still seemed like a lot of nonsense. Not that Karkat doubted the seer was up to something -- seers always were -- just that it wasn’t some grand conspiracy. Mostly she just seemed to be up to making Karkat blush with innuendos between her and the fey, which she regularly succeeded at.

Stupid fucking seers.

It was still dark when Karkat finished, and he hadn’t heard anything more from the prince’s room, so he put away the book, snuffed out his candles, and managed to snag a restless hour or two of sleep before needing to go back to his duties in the morning.

Chapter Text

Sir Vantas managed to “behave” the next several days in front of the nobles, though Dirk still gave him longer lunches to spend more time with his comrades, which seemed to improve his mood. Dirk wanted to take advantage of said mood boost and ask more questions, maybe even find more out about Strider, but the knight also seemed especially tired lately, probably still after effects from dealing with so many imps, so Dirk left him be.

Dirk was tired as well, and combined with his morning sore throats, he was afraid the stress from the past couple of months was making him come down with something at the worst possible time.

The only positive thing was that there had yet to be any further imp sightings in the week since Vantas was first attacked. But this still made him uneasy.

It was this Dirk was pondering as he absently signed the papers stacked in front of him while Vantas watched on when there was a knock on the door to his study.

“Come in,” he said, noticing his guard straighten to attention out the corner of his eye.

It was just Rose, though, and they both relaxed as she entered and leaned forward over the back of the chair across from Dirk.

“You could sit down, you know,” he said.

“I prefer to stand. Anyway, I won’t be here long. Just popped in to give an update.”

“Oh?”

“The girls received word from those they were able to contact in the Forests,” she said. Dirk waited for her to continue, idly wondering who delivered the letters back and forth, or if they communicated another way. “Neither the witches nor the Mother noticed anything odd. The Forests have been quiet, and they’re certain they would have noticed if imps or anything else from its depths passed through.”

Dirk frowned. “So what does this mean?”

“Either that Karkat here did not fight imps, or,” she said, lifting a hand to cut off Sir Vantas’s start of a protest, “or this goes deeper than some imps getting out and causing chaos, which we already suspected.”

Dirk nodded. They had already talked about the possibility, especially since neither Kurloz nor Eridan reported anything similar to these attacks happening in the Confederation.

“As such,” Rose continued, “I will be maintaining my plans to leave for Derse tomorrow.”

Dirk stood up at that, leaning on his desk toward her. “You can’t be serious!”

“You know I am, cousin. Do not fret, the girls and I can take care of ourselves.”

“I still need to send knights with you. I can’t have you go unescorted.”

“And what knights would those be?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “The ones you’ve sent to the ends of the kingdom, or the barebones crew you’ve kept behind to guard the castle?”

Dirk hesitated, then turned to Sir Vantas. “You’ll go. You’ll protect Rose. You’ve seen them.”

“Dirk--”

“Majesty--”

“Rose, please.”

“You think sending your guard away now is the best decision?”

“Majesty, I need to be here, if the imps--”

“I don’t need you,” Dirk snapped. He ignored the way the knight wilted. “I don’t need him, Rose, I need you safe. Take him to the border. He’ll come back more quickly than a messenger from Derse would, so I know you made it safely.”

Rose pursed her lips. “Fine, if it will ease your mind. But don’t think throwing a tantrum will keep getting you what you want, Dirk. It’s not a good look for you.”

With that she whipped around and walked out of the study, the door closing just a touch too hard behind her.

Dirk sighed and relaxed back into his chair.

There hadn’t been any more sightings in a week.

She would be safe.

She would be safe.

Motherfucking prince.

Karkat had remained quiet the rest of the day, barely grunting a response when Prince Diederik wished him a good night and instructed Karkat to meet with him before heading out with Rose the next day.

The prince knew he was testing fate by not having anyone to guard him -- he had said as much himself, and yet still Karkat was being sent off to guard the four people in the country who probably needed it the least.

Because the prince didn’t need him.

Whatever.

The anger and hurt he felt quickly mixed with a pang of guilt and a twist of empathy when the prince’s screaming started up again, louder than the past few nights.

It wasn’t his business.

It wasn’t his problem.

Karkat walked to the door separating their rooms and leaned his head against it, fighting with himself about what he should do.

He opened the door and swiftly made his way to the prince’s bedside. 

The prince was tossing and turning and whining and shouting wordlessly and Karkat didn’t hesitate before he grabbed Prince Diederik’s arms and held him still. The prince immediately clutched Karkat’s own arms, eyes still screwed shut, mouth still grimacing, and he choked out a single word: “Dave!”

That was a shock.

“D-Dave’s not here,” Karkat stuttered back.

“My fault. ‘M sorry.”

“Dave’s fine. You’re fine.” Karkat had no idea what he was doing, but it seemed to be working. The prince was stilling beneath him.

“Rose?” 

“She’s fine, too.”

The prince was relaxing, hands no longer gripping Karkat. He let out a long sigh and said, “Vantas.”

Karkat froze. “Majesty?”

The prince didn’t say anything else, his breathing back to normal. Karkat let him go. “Yeah, he’s fine, too.” Then he went back to his room.

Chapter Text

Sir Vantas was waiting outside of Dirk’s room like usual the next morning, though this time without breakfast in hand. He looked more uneasy when Dirk greeted him than usual, and avoided looking at him entirely, but Dirk figured that was only fair.

They made their way out and to the carriage waiting in front of the castle. Jade and Feferi were already inside it, but Rose and Kanaya were outside and waved at them as they approached.

“Are you sure I can’t change your mind?” Dirk asked.

“Are you sure I can’t change yours?” Rose shot back, gesturing to Vantas.

Vantas grumbled something under his breath, but they both ignored it.

“Have a safe trip, Rose.” 

Rose smiled and hugged him and Dirk tried not to be so stiff as he hugged her back. “We’ll be fine.”

Captain Pyrope walked up, leading Vantas’s horse. Dirk watched with curiosity as a look passed between them, and they shook hands, or well, arms, as they gripped each other’s forearms tightly. “You do your job and do it well,” the captain said. Dirk couldn’t tell if that was a command or a compliment, but Vantas just nodded and took the reins.

He then turned to Dirk and bowed. “Majesty.”

“Keep them safe, Sir Vantas.”

“Of course, majesty.”

Vantas swung himself on his horse and rode up next to the carriage, signaling to the driver that he was ready to go.

Dirk watched them ride off passively, then went back inside.

Karkat thought he was in for a quiet ride, with Rose and the fey all piled in the carriage, until he heard Rose say, “How have you been, Karkat, dear?” and turned to the carriage to see a sort of window in space that showed the four of them inside the compartment as though they were riding in an open top carriage next to him, Rose and Kanaya’s eyes shining yellow suns and white spirals respectively. It was only his instincts as a rider that kept him glued to the saddle and not falling off in shock, but apparently his surprise was clear, because Rose then added, “A trick Kanaya taught me. Quite convenient, don’t you think?”

“Sure, why the fuck not,” Karkat muttered, skin still crawling at the sight. Fucking aspect users.

“It is a long ride to the border. This should help us pass the time,” Kanaya said.

“We have to go through the city, don’t you think this is a little…” he thought for a moment, “much?”

Feferi and Jade laughed while Kanaya and Rose just smiled at him.

“We are already “a little much” as it is, Karkat. This won’t tip the scales any further against us,” Rose said.

“So how’s dealing with the prince?” Feferi asked.

“Fine.”

“Still hasn’t gotten any better, huh?” Jade asked.

Karkat shrugged. “He’s made it clear my presence is a precaution he doesn’t think he needs, so mostly I’m just bored out of my fucking skull.”

“He’ll find his use for you yet,” Rose said.

Karkat didn’t even bother trying to figure out what that meant.

“He seems to mean well. People just aren’t his area of expertise,” Kanaya said.

Karkat snorted, thinking of how he was with Zahhak and English. “Some people are.”

Rose quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Nothing,” Karkat said quickly. Sure, he told Dave about Zahhak, but there is no way Rose wouldn’t snitch on him in order to get at the prince. Thankfully Rose let it drop.

They were silent as they made their way through the city, and Karkat did his best to ignore the gasps and gawking from the people in the streets. Rose and her fey didn’t seem to mind, the four simply murmuring and chuckling to themselves as they passed.

When they were out, Rose asked, “Do we make you nervous, Karkat?”

“Yeah?”

Feferi laughed high and bright, but Rose frowned slightly. “I suppose that’s to be expected, but I wish you would be more comfortable with us.”

“Why?”

“Your well-being is of interest to us,” Kanaya said.

“Why?” Karkat repeated.

“Maybe it’s because you’re serving Dirk directly now and we need to know you’re in tip-top shape,” Feferi said. “Or maybe it’s for our own nefarious purposes. We’ll leave that up to you to decide.”

Jade snickered as Karkat frowned at her.

“Don’t mind them,” Rose said. “They just find you so incredibly fun to tease.”

Karkat rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“But how are you doing, Karkat?” Kanaya asked.

“I’m fine,” he snapped.

“No migraines, body aches, anything like that?” she pressed.

“No, I’m in ‘tip-top shape’ thanks for asking!”

“Very well. Please do reach out to us in Derse if you notice anything, dear.”

Karkat just grunted. The truth is he had been experiencing more headaches, especially after dealing with Captor. He assumed his frustration was why he had felt bad, but the nagging ache was still present after spending time with Dave and the other knights. It wasn’t that bad, though, and certainly wasn’t any of their business.

They didn’t talk to him for another few miles, instead talking amongst themselves about their plans once they were in Derse and other stuff that Karkat quickly tuned out.

There was a small, quickly built stable and guard house, courtesy of Lord Zahhak, where they switched out the carriage’s horses with two well rested ones and Karkat fed and watered his own. They could go for longer without, but no reason to push them if you didn’t need to. Karkat thought he heard their conversation turn to said horse lord, something about dalliances with the confederation princes, but he did his best to tune that out as well. He knew plenty about Zahhak as it was.

“Karkat?”

They had been on the road for several minutes, and apparently Karkat had tuned them out too well, because Rose was looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, what was that?”

She looked amused. “I had asked how John was doing, you saw him recently, did you not?”

Karkat rolled his eyes. “He’s fine. A little too fine if you ask me.”

Rose chuckled. “Sounds like John, always a nuisance. But he and Dirk were childhood friends, or near enough as we could get, so it’s nice when he stops and visits, even for something like this.”

“Near enough as you could get?”

“Ah, the life of royalty. Not allowed outside the castle, much less in the public eye, until we turn ten.” Rose shrugged. “Some old superstition that turned into tradition, no doubt. Suffice to say, it could make it hard to connect with others, but John succeeded with Dirk more than most.”

That… explained some things, actually. Royals were fucking weird.

“What about you, Karkat? Any childhood friends?” Kanaya asked.

“Dave,” he answered automatically.

“What about before the sanctuary?” Rose prompted.

Karkat debated answering for a few moments, while they waited patiently. “There was a boy, when I was young, but he was taken away. His aspect made him too valuable as a mage. I don’t like to think about it.”

Rose and Kanaya nodded, but didn’t pry further.

“We all knew each other since we were kids,” Feferi offered. “Though we didn’t get a chance to meet up too often until we were older.”

“I wonder if the chaos you two caused had anything to do with how rarely our factions met up,” Kanaya said.

Jade snickered. “That’s why they had you join us, right? No wonder you got apprenticed to the Mother.”

Kanaya smiled. “I do what I can.”

Karkat again wondered about things that weren’t his business, but since Rose had told him he could speak freely, he didn’t feel the need to hold himself back as curiosity won out. “What the fuck is up with you four, anyway?”

And they laughed.

All of them.

No small smiles from Rose and Kanaya or light snickering from Jade and Feferi, just full blown laughter.

Karkat’s cheeks reddened. “You don’t have to be dicks about it,” he muttered.

The laughter calmed, and Rose wiped a tear from her eyes. “Forgive me, Karkat, you’re just so… direct .”

“If you don’t want me to ask shit like that, just say so.”

“Dear, I would love for nothing more than you to keep asking ‘shit like that.’ To answer your question, the four of us are… lovers, I suppose you could call it.” Rose glanced to the others and they nodded.

“Probably the simplest term for it,” Kanaya said.

“I figured as much,” Karkat said. “I just didn’t want to make any weird assumptions, I guess.”

“And what about you? You and Sir Strider seem awfully close.”

“We’re not-- It’s not like that! He’s -- I’m-- He and Egbert are together and I’m fine out here. There’s no one else and there doesn’t need to be anyone else!”

The four looked at each other, then at him, eyebrows raised.

“If you say so,” Feferi said.

“I do!”

“What about siblings?” Kanaya asked, a clear grab to change the topic.

“None worth talking about,” Karkat muttered. “I mean, no,” he said more loudly. “No siblings.”

Kanaya gave him a look, but let the topic drop.

After a few minutes of silence, the topic of Derse was brought up again, and they talked more of their plans, occasionally asking Karkat questions about his knowledge of the country and its sister to keep him included. Eventually the topic switched to the tournament, and they asked him more about that, and his training since, and just generally any topics that strayed away from the more serious and personal they were delving into before.

Though Karkat had been looking forward to a quiet ride, he appreciated them treating him like an equal, something the majority of nobles and advisors didn’t do, much less actual royalty and, well, whatever the hell the fey were to their people.

Before too long, it was growing dark, and they reached the first inn. Karkat helped the driver set the horses up in the stable, and was thankful when Rose paid for him to have his own room. As nice as it was to feel included, he still needed his own space at night and wasn’t keen to share it with the driver or anyone else.

He pulled out another book as he wound down for bed, this one a history on the Skaian royal family.

It was… weird. There were blank spots in the text, like the scribe forgot to pen some of the words but left space for them. Other than that, he was already at least vaguely aware of most of it. The disappearance and presumed deaths of the king and queen, the earlier deaths of the queen’s sister and her wife, Rose’s parents. But what the fuck was missing? Maybe he would show it to Rose tomorrow. She might know something. Or she might wonder why he was reading up on her history. It must be weird, to be talked about in a book, but maybe that was something Rose was into. Probably not the prince, though.

Either way, there was nothing else he was getting from it now, so he put it back in his bag and went to bed.

Something yanked Karkat out of sleep and he yelped, reaching for the sword by his bed when he caught sight of two glowing yellow eyes in the dark of his room.

“You have a choice, Karkat.” It was Rose. Karkat dropped his sword, but remained unnerved.

“What are you talking about? Why are you in my room?”

“Pain or guilt? Fulfillment or freedom?”

The yellow lights were growing brighter, swirling, taking the form of suns.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he repeated.

“Dirk is in trouble, or soon will be, and you may go to him, but doing so will set you further on the path you have been running from. Or you may go back to sleep and continue escorting us to the border and be free of it once and for all.”

“If his majesty is in trouble, I must go to him! Where is he? What’s happening?”

“He won’t die. The kingdom won’t fall.” She thought for a moment, then added, “Probably. You won’t be killing him with your inaction. You’ll be freeing yourself.”

“I…” And he thought about it. For a good few seconds, he really considered being free from the destiny predicted for him when he was young. More fucking seers telling him what he must do, what he was destined to do. Even this was no choice, not really. “I have to go back. Tell me what to do.”

Chapter Text

Dirk was restless. It would be days before he knew whether Rose and Sir Vantas were safe, and there was nothing he could do but wait. The first day with them gone was bad enough, and he slept terribly that night, and now going into the second day felt terrible.

He needed to get out, to do something.

He had nothing planned, so he slipped out of the castle to get some fresh air.

There was an apple orchard he liked to go to in order to think, or not think, whichever he preferred, and that’s where he headed. He liked watching the trees change throughout the seasons, and now they were all heavy with fruit, but not quite ready to be harvested. When he was a child, he tried eating them around this time anyway, and lost a tooth biting into the hard, unripe flesh. That combined with the unpleasantly sour tang stopped him from trying again, no matter how tempting they looked.

The orchard was filled with bittersweet memories like that, even if they weren’t all quite so literal, and Dirk found himself getting swept up in them as he walked.

There was the tree he fell out of and broke his wrist.

There was the tree he carved his name in before being scolded.

There was the tree he helped plant that he made sure to harvest himself each year.

The memories ached and he loved them for it.

He sat beneath the one he planted, leaned back against its trunk, and counted the apples he could see on the branches above him. It was the closest he ever got to meditation, something Rose had tried to get him to do constantly, but his brain had a hard time shutting off. But he could focus on counting, at least for a little while.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t notice anything approaching until a long, leathery black tail was wrapped around him, pinning him to the tree.

Dirk immediately reached for the daggers at his back, scraping himself with them as he pulled them out of their sheaths then stabbing them into the tail that held him.

It released him and he jumped up and turned to find the source.

A wide grin of teeth and a long purple tongue greeted him, the six-legged, lizard-like body attached to it rounding the tree quickly.

A basilisk.

Dirk dodged out of the way of a clawed swipe to his torso, but the tail snaked back around and hit his back, causing him to stumble forward. He stabbed back at the tail again, but it was gone, so he tried backing away. He needed to get to the castle.

The tail snapped forward again and tripped him and he fell on his back, barely getting his daggers up in time to stab into the torso of the basilisk now clambering on top of him.

It hissed and retreated and Dirk scrambled to his feet and ran, dodging trees while he heard the basilisk crash into them behind him. One creaked and groaned and Dirk looked back and barely managed to throw himself out of the way of the falling trunk and the thickest parts of its limbs, but the smaller branches slammed into his face and body and he knew he would be bruised all over, if he lived.

The basilisk was on top of him again, its claw surrounding his neck and pinning him to the ground.

He slashed at that arm to no effect and instead stabbed into it until he felt bone and twisted.

The basilisk snarled and reared back and Dirk stood and launched himself at the monster’s middle, driving his blades into its belly. If only he had his fucking sword!

One of the middle legs swatted him away, and he was only able to keep hold of one dagger, the other firmly stuck in the beast.

Dirk stepped back and braced himself, but the basilisk didn’t immediately lunge at him, too preoccupied with its injury, so Dirk turned to run but instead ran smack into another basilisk. He fell back, but the injured basilisk was quickly recovering and coming up behind him.

Fuck.

Shit.

Wait.

What was that?

He heard what sounded like galloping and a drawn out yell.

The basilisk in front of him turned only to get pummeled by the hooves of a black horse and slashed by the falchion of its rider, who then hopped off and dashed past the still stunned Dirk to block a blow he didn’t see coming from the beast behind him.

Sir Vantas was here.

How?

Why?

The knight took a spare moment between blows to yank Dirk’s other dagger out of the monster and hand it back to him. “You’ll be needing this, majesty.”

Dirk quickly grabbed it and for a brief second their fingers brushed each other and he felt electrified.

He shook it off and turned back to the new basilisk, who had scared off the horse and was now turning its attention back to them.

“Slashing doesn’t work, you need to stab them!” Dirk said as he dodged a swipe then dug his dagger into one of the basilisk’s arms.

“Got it!”

Dirk couldn’t spare the attention to see how he was doing, but the shrieks and growls coming from the already wounded creature seemed promising.

Dirk’s basilisk tried swiping again, but he dodged it once more and, apparently getting fed up with its claws not doing damage, the beast bit at Dirk’s arm.

He didn’t have time to move away, so instead he moved into it, shoving his arm in the creature’s mouth and thrusting up with his dagger, then taking his other dagger and plunging down on top of the head. He felt them meet in the middle and he yanked them both toward himself and with one last groan, the basilisk burst into ash.

Dirk turned to help Vantas with his, but he was just in time to see his guard drive his sword through the basilisk’s middle and drag it down, splitting it open and it, too, turned to dust.

Dirk clapped Vantas on the shoulder with exhausted relief, and the man looked like he was about to say something, but the breath in turned into coughing, and Dirk’s quickly did, too, so they just stood there, Dirk clutching onto his guard, coughing, until they heard the clamor of more horses approaching.

Captain Pyrope, Sir Strider, and another knight Dirk vaguely recognized from the tournament came riding up, swords at the ready, only to come to a halt and stare at the pair in front of them.

“Are you… okay?” the captain asked.

Dirk laughed and nodded. “Thanks to Sir Vantas, here, yes,” he said, clapping the man on the shoulder again. “Two basilisks attacked me, but we took care of them, as you can see.” He gestured to the soot covering them both. “I’ll brief you fully once I’ve had time to rest.”

“How did you…?” Strider began, then shook his head and shrugged.

“I’ll tell you later, Dave. For now, we need to get his majesty to a physician and make sure he’s alright.”

“I’m fine,” Dirk said, which might not have been as convincing as he wanted as he said it through coughing and could still feel blood ooze from where the falling tree got him.

“All due respect, I’ll hear that from the physician, majesty,” Vantas said.

“I’ll trust you to do that, then, Vantas,” Captain Pyrope said. Then she turned to the others. “Let’s go report that everything is under control. I look forward to that briefing, your highness.”

Dirk nodded, acknowledging the unsaid urge to do so quickly, and with one last confused look from Strider, the three rode back, more leisurely than they came.

Dirk’s hand was still on Vantas’s shoulder.

He removed it.

He did not jump when Vantas let out a whistle, low then high, and the black horse he rode in on came galloping back.

“Lord Zahhak trains them well,” the knight said, a mix of awe and displeasure in his voice.

Dirk just nodded.

Vantas took the horse by the reins and patted its nose appreciatively, then gestured to the saddle. “Majesty.”

“Dirk,” Dirk said.

Vantas stared at him.

“You can call me Dirk, if you want. That’s my name.” ‘That’s my name.’ Good one, Dirk.

“Dirk…” Vantas seemed to be feeling it out with his mouth and Dirk couldn’t deny he liked the sound. He gestured to the horse again, seemingly pointedly not looking at him, and Dirk swore his cheeks were tinged red. “The horse is yours, ma-- Dirk.”

Dirk wanted to protest, but he was sore, and tired, and a prince walking while his knight rode would seem… odd, at best. “Maybe you could…?” Wait no, nope, that would be even weirder, no matter who sat in front. Vantas raised an eyebrow. “Never mind. Thank you, Sir Vantas.” Dirk mounted the horse.

“Karkat,” he muttered. 

“What?” Dirk looked down at him, but he wasn’t looking back, instead beginning to lead the horse back to the castle.

“You can call me Karkat, if you want,” he said more loudly. Then he snickered, so low Dirk almost didn’t hear it and added, “That’s my name.”

They were quiet for the first few minutes on the trip back to the castle, but Dirk was too curious to let it sit. “Why did you come back? And how did you know where I was?”

“Rose,” Karkat responded.

“Should have guessed.” He half chuckled and half sighed.

“She said she’ll send word once she’s settled in Derse, and to not worry.”

“I guess she really didn’t need you with her after all.”

“But you did.” Karkat stopped in place and the horse stopped as well. He looked up at Dirk, panicked. “Wait, I mean--”

“I did, and I thank you for returning to me,” Dirk said. “I will not forget this.”

Karkat didn’t say anything, just started walking again.

When they reached the castle, Dirk dismounted and Karkat handed the reins to one of the servants to take the horse to the stable. Inside, Karkat began heading to the direction of the physician’s office, but Dirk put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“After I rest. I do not have the energy to be prodded when I know I’m fine. I’m sure you understand.”

Karkat frowned at him, but nodded, and they changed direction to head to their rooms.

They stopped outside of Dirk’s door, and Dirk stared at it, hand hesitating on the knob. He felt as though he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what.

“I guess I should…” Karkat began.

“Yes, me too.”

“Check on you in a few minutes?” he finished.

“Oh. Yes. I’ll be--” Dirk started to open the door and stopped talking when he looked inside. Roxy was on the floor, leaning against the foot of his bed, covered in blood and soot. “Get the physician!”

Karkat nodded then dashed off while Dirk ran up to his cousin, who waved weakly.

“Heyyy, Dirk,” she said. “I might have fucked up.”

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks since Roxy Strider had shown up, bloody and bruised, in the prince’s room, and, as far as Karkat could tell, she still hadn’t said shit. Not that he’d know anyway. She and his ma-- Dirk. She and Dirk were constantly holed up together, but anytime Karkat asked after any information, Dirk just shook his head.

There had been a few minutes after Karkat had rescued the prince that he had thought… It didn’t matter. Roxy showing up changed things, or, well, made things the thought would change stay the same. He did learn one thing, though: Roxy was Dirk’s cousin, Rose’s sister, which probably made her part of the information missing from his book. Karkat still hadn’t decided if he wanted to ask her about it, though.

Dirk exited Roxy’s room and Karkat rounded on him. “Anything new yet? Or are your secret fucking meetings just the new normal?”

Dirk stared him down, but Karkat stared right back.

That was another new thing.

Being on a first-name basis gave Karkat permission to take other liberties, such as grumping freely at his liege. Dirk hadn’t told him to stop, partially because he only did it when they were alone or with Roxy, he assumed, and that only encouraged him more. That and his fucking headache. It had spiked shortly after Roxy appeared and was now a constant dull ache that definitely didn’t help his mood. He had considered going to the physician about it, but it was probably just stress.

“We think we have a plan to move forward,” Dirk said as he started walking back to his study. “We’ll have a meeting about it shortly. Everything will be explained then.”

Karkat frowned as he stepped in line behind the prince. “Can I at least get a hint?”

Dirk chuckled.

That was new, too, how much… lighter Dirk seemed around him. It felt good.

“The meeting is this evening. Even you can wait until then.”

Karkat opened his mouth to ask what exactly that meant, but he saw a servant heading down the hallway toward them, so he shut his mouth.

Dirk waved the servant down. “Tell Captain Pyrope to send Sir Strider to my-- no, the seer’s study after dinner.” The servant bowed, murmured their ascent, and continued on past them.

“What’s Dave got to do with anything?” Karkat asked when the servant was out of sight.

“You’ll see soon enough.”

“Now you’re being infuriating on purpose,” Karkat grumbled.

Dirk chuckled again. “Maybe.”

Dirk didn’t like being in Rose’s library when she wasn’t there, but his own study was too cramped for four people to sit comfortably, a concept which Karkat seemed particularly averse to. He had insisted on standing, and Dirk had to actually order him to sit once Roxy and Sir Strider arrived to avoid making anyone else uncomfortable. Namely Dirk, though he wouldn’t admit it. Instead he was fidgeting in his seat, waiting for Dirk to start the meeting. He grabbed for one of the books to look through, but Dirk, Roxy, and Strider simultaneously said, “Don’t touch that!” Strider grabbed his hand and lowered it. Karkat looked between the three of them with a mix of indignation and suspicion, but complied.

“Probably best if we didn’t disturb Rose’s things any more than necessary,” Dirk said.

“Fine. So are you going to start us off or do you think we’re not bored enough yet?”

Part of Dirk thought the knight had been grumpier than usual lately, but maybe he had always been like this and had just been better at hiding it than Dirk gave him credit for. He didn’t mind. It was oddly refreshing. And made teasing him that much more fun. Which… apparently was a thing he did now. He shook his head. Get back on task.

“No, I think we’re all settled in well enough. Roxy, if you’d explain what happened to you to start us off.”

Roxy nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay, so, we were at the tournament because we heard rumors that the Thieves of Flight were gunna show. Didn't seem like their usual gig, but, hey, we didn’t have anything better to do and it sounded fun anyway. Was fun! Even got some money out of it the clean way. But, uh, you know what happened. They made their move and we nabbed ‘em before they could get away, then vamoosed ourselves.”

Karkat nodded, obviously struggling not to ask her to get past what he already knew.

“We took ‘em back to our main hide out. The only one with any sort of cells. We didn’t have much of a plan after we captured them, TBH.” Roxy laughed. “Just… capture the Thieves! What more did we need?” She sighed. “Vriska Serket let it slip they were waiting on their benefactor to bust ‘em out, though. Or maybe it wasn’t a slip. I don’t know. Either way, I upped my voidiness--I’m a void user BTW--but I could feel something pushing against it.”

“The benefactor?” Karkat asked.

Roxy shook her head. “No, or, at least if they were part of it, it wasn’t mainly them. Vriska is a Light user and Meenah Peixes is a Life user. I guess they mashed those two together and got ‘Flight,’ for some dumbass reason.”

“Wait, Peixes?” Karkat asked, alarmed.

“That stuck out to us, too,” Dirk said. “We asked Rose about it, but as near as Feferi knows, they must just have some distant relative in common. Same with Vriska and one of the other Mother’s Children. They’re looking further into it, just in case, but no obvious leads there.”

“Anyway,” Roxy continued, “I caught on pretty early that Vriska was using her light powers to try to draw attention to herself, help their boss get a lead on where they were, and I was doing my voidy thing to stop it. What I didn’t know is every time I was going in to interrogate them, Meenah was sapping the life right outta me. Just enough that I thought I was just tired as fuck from my tug o’ war with Vriska, and only sapping my life so we wouldn’t get suspicious from all of us feeling like shit. Real fucking sneaky.”

She was beating herself up again.

“It was ‘real fucking sneaky,’” Dirk reassured her. “There’s no way you could have known.”

Roxy smiled at him, but she was still too tight around the eyes. “Thanks, ‘cuz. Anyway…” She breathed deeply, in then out, then continued. “Eventually Vriska overpowered me. We didn’t realize it until a motherfucking ogre knocked in a motherfucking wall. Nepeta and Rufioh jumped to action, took it out. I was still… so tired. I ran to the prisoners, but a basilisk was there ahead of me. Our cells weren’t that secure-- we were planning on moving them eventually-- so it broke ‘em out in no time. I called for Nepeta and Rufioh, no way I could take on a basilisk and the thieves, not in my state, but they were being mobbed by imps, and I could see a couple more basilisks approaching fast. So I told them to run. It was the only thing I could do. We each have our own safe place that the others don’t know about. So that’s where they are. I hope.”

“So the basilisks we fought were after you,” Karkat said more than asked.

Roxy winced and smiled sheepishly. “‘Fraid so.”

“Did you get anything out of interrogating them?” Strider asked.

“Not a lot. Their boss seems to be in some sort of cult, but we didn’t get much more than that. I wrote to Rosey about it and she’s looking into it.”

“So what’s our plan? Why’s Dave here? No offense, Dave,” Karkat added.

“None taken,” the knight said, grinning.

“We’re going to find my friends,” Roxy said. “I need to make sure they’re okay. Plus, they might know something I don’t.”

“Sir Strider is going with her. Keep her out of trouble.”

“Like anyone can do that,” she said, smirking. “But if it’ll make you feel better to send one of your little knights with me, then I suppose I’ll suffer through.”

Karkat was looking at her suspiciously. That wouldn’t do.

“I believe you said you also had a way for us to keep in contact?” Dirk prodded.

“Oh! Yes! Sort of.” Roxy pulled out four sheets of paper and passed three of them to the others, then scribbled something on hers. She gestured for the boys to look at their own sheets, which Dirk did, still watching her screw her eyes in concentration out the corner of his eye. Within seconds, the phrase, “Voidy powers!” appeared on his sheet. From the startled expression of the other two, Dirk assumed it was the same for them. “I can only do this one way, but as long as I know where I’m sending it, I can erase the presence of my message on my paper and erase the lack of that message on yours. It was a lot easier when I had Rufioh helping me, but I can still do it.”

“So why don’t your friends get in touch with you like this? Or you with them?” Karkat asked.

“Like I said, it’s only one way. Rufioh never figured out how to do it without me, and I can’t risk sending them a message when they or the paper could be compromised.”

Karkat nodded.

“Makes sense,” Dave said.

“Why four sheets?” Dirk asked.

“Davey and Karkitty are buds, right? I thought they’d want to keep in touch, too I’ll send all my messages to you, and all of Dave’s to Karkat, so we’ll all be on the same page.”

That made Dirk uneasy. Roxy was a variable he had a hard time accounting for in the best of situations. But… Strider had some more sense about him, and was apparently no more eager to tell Karkat the truth than he was, so it would be fine.

It would be fine.

Strider carefully folded his sheet and tucked it in a pocket. “When will we be leaving?”

“Tomorrow,” Roxy said. “I think I’ve spent enough time sitting on my ass.”

“You were recovering,” Dirk reminded her. “And waiting for information from Rose.”

Roxy waved him off. “Potato, potahto. I’m ready to get back in the game. That okay with you, Sir Strider ?” She wiggled her eyebrows at the knight conspiratorially.

Yeah, maybe getting her away sooner rather than later was for the best.

“Works for me,” Strider said, shrugging.

Dirk stood, and the other three followed suit. “Go tell your captain, then, and get ready. We’ll finish preparations with Roxy.”

Strider nodded and left the room.

"Roxy, go to the physician and grab some on the field kits." Roxy nodded. " And get one last check up," Dirk added. Roxy pouted. "You can't help your friends if you're not completely recovered."

"Fiiinne…" she said, then left as well.

Karkat looked at him expectantly. 

Dirk sighed. "All we can do is wait.

Chapter Text

The prince and his guard saw the two off early the next morning, their horses weighed down with food and supplies. Karkat had his hand on his sheet of paper in his pocket as he watched his friend and the outlaw climb onto their horses.

“Cheer up, Dirky, dear. If all goes well, we won’t be gone more’n a couple weeks,” Roxy reassured.

Karkat glanced over to see Dirk smoothing out a frown. “Be safe. Both of you. I --” He cut himself off. “Be safe.”

Karkat was reminded that some people like their family, and it must be painful to see his cousin ride off into probable danger after the state she was in just a few weeks ago. Karkat didn’t have any cousins, no family that he missed, but the look on Dirk’s face made it clear he had already lost too much family.

Roxy smiled softly. “We’ll be fine.”

Karkat looked at Dave and saw his hand buried in his pocket, too. He patted it once, then withdrew his hand and nodded to his friend, who nodded back. Then he looked at Roxy and seeing their faces mirroring each other made Karkat realize how eerily similar they looked, their hair even the same pale shade of blonde. Before he could examine the thought more closely, the pair flicked the reins of their horses and headed off down the road.

Dirk and Karkat watched them until they were out of sight, then Dirk said, “I should be with them.” Karkat looked at him in confusion, but before he could say anything, Dirk continued, “I know. I know I can’t. I know I have to stay here. But I should be with them.”

Karkat hesitated, then put a hand on the prince’s shoulder. He felt Dirk tense for a moment, then relax as they stared at the empty road in silence. Finally, Dirk said, “Let’s go get some breakfast to take to my study. There’s still plenty of work to do.”

The harvest season was about halfway over, so Dirk was looking over paperwork to make sure everyone was getting their share in storage before the chill of the barren season settled in. It was already getting quite cold, but soon it would drop below freezing more nights than not, and Dirk needed to make sure the crops were safe before then. What he wouldn’t give to have Master Crocker and her skill with the life aspect back to tending to the farms, but she made her choice almost a decade ago, and they were doing well enough without.

Dirk was startled out of his musings when the stack of papers in front of him disappeared and was replaced by a plate with a sandwich that had a single bite taken out of it. His sandwich, he realized. He looked up to see Karkat glowering at him from the other side of the desk.

“Eat,” the knight said, pointing at the plate.

Dirk rolled his eyes, but took a bite. “How did I ever survive without you?” he asked through a mouthful of food.

Karkat scrunched up his nose at the display. “I honestly don’t fucking know. No wonder you’re so thin. Sometimes I’m in awe that you don’t float away in the breeze.”

“Good thing I have you to hold me down, then,” Dirk retorted.

His guard flushed in response. “Just finish your damn sandwich,” he said, then huffed as he sat back down, angled away from Dirk.

Dirk did as he was told, then traded his empty plate for the stack of papers Karkat had moved, and got back to work.

They sat in silence for a while longer, then Karkat said, “Why…? You know what, nevermind. Too personal.”

Dirk chuckled. “Are you trying to tease me, Karkat? Ask away.”

“I’m not teasing , I’m just minding my own fucking business,” Karkat grumbled.

“Don’t strain yourself.”

“Alright, jackass , I was just wondering why Roxy, y’know, is a rogue instead of royalty like Rose, and --” he cut himself off and shrugged. “Just seems weird.”

The smile that had been playing on Dirk’s lips vanished. “We all deal with loss in our own ways,” he said.

“Her parents, or…?” Karkat prodded.

“ That , I think, is too personal.”

Karkat nodded. “Right, of course. I didn’t mean… Sorry.” He turned away from Dirk again.

“No harm done,” Dirk said. He paused, then added, “What about you and your family?”

“Don’t have one,” Karkat said immediately.

“Everyone has a family,” Dirk countered. “And you didn’t show up to the sanctuary until you were, what, 14?” Dirk didn’t know why he was pushing this, but he felt desperate to know more about the man.

“Maybe I was a street urchin until then!”

Dirk snorted. “If you don’t want to talk about it, just say so.”

“Fine!” Karkat said, near shouting. “I don’t want to fucking talk about it, if that’s all right with your majesty .”

Dirk frowned. Now who was pushing it? “Watch your tone, Sir Vantas ,” he warned.

Karkat laughed hollowly. “Or what, you’ll fire me? Don’t threaten me with a good time!”

Something inside Dirk twisted painfully. He stood abruptly, knocking into the desk, causing papers to fly off. “Take a walk, Sir Vantas.”

“What?” Karkat asked, gaping at him in disbelief.

“You heard me. Take. A. Walk.”

Karkat snarled wordlessly as he stood up and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Dirk sighed, the flash of anger fading away into a dull ache.

That… got out of hand. He regretted pushing the man on something he was clearly uncomfortable with, but Karkat overstepped his place when he pushed back and he couldn’t…

His heart sank into his gut. ‘Overstepped his place.’ Was that really who he was? Was that really how he thought of his guard?

Dirk took a few long strides to the door and opened it, but Karkat was already gone.

Stupid fucking nobles. They were all the same, except the higher up they were, the bigger of a stick was shoved up their ass, which mean fucking princes had the biggest stick of them all! Whatever amount of friendship or whatever Karkat thought had been developing between them would always be eclipsed by that. By the fact that Di-- his majesty was royalty and he was just a knight, his last name meaning little more than ‘Strider,’ and who the fuck cared about anything else.

Karkat was stomping through the hallways, barely paying attention to the servants throwing themselves out of his way. He wasn’t even sure where he was going, he didn’t even have Dave to go to now, just away.

Part of his anger was directed at himself. He should have known, shouldn’t have taken so many liberties, shouldn’t have said… Wait, there was no way the prince would actually fire him, right? Gods, why did he have to push so much about what Karkat clearly didn’t want to talk about? Why couldn’t Karkat just lie ?

When he looked up, he realized he had walked back to their rooms. He frowned, his stubbornness struggling with his regret. He needed to get his thoughts in order, then he needed to talk to the prince.

Karkat didn’t come back the rest of the day, not that Dirk was really surprised. He got a lot of work done, either way. The sun had already gone down, but it was still fairly early in the evening when Dirk straightened up his desk, grabbed a candle, and headed back to his room. He could talk with his guard in the morning, when they both had cooler heads.

Dirk stopped short as he turned into the hallway that led to his room. Apparently they could talk sooner, because Karkat was standing between their two doors, shadows flickering over his face from the torches framing him.

Dirk sped up his pace to reach the man, but before he could say anything, Karkat bowed and said, “Your majesty, I apologize for my earlier outburst.” His tone was stiff, like he was forcing the words out, but Dirk was still taken aback.

“Karkat, we were both out of line. I shouldn’t have pushed you on something you didn’t want to share.”

Karkat straightened back up. “My liege has every right to enquire about those in his employ. Assuming you still wish that to be the case?”

Dirk balked at the question. “Do you really want me to release you?” All his planning, all the work he did to get to this point… Did it really matter? So many other things had happened that he had little chance to act on them, anyway. Were they actually more important?

Karkat stared at him, red eyes searching orange. “Would you do it?”

Would he throw away the last few months, his last hope? “If that is what you wished, Karkat, I would.”

He wasn’t a jailer. He wouldn’t stoop as low as to force the man who saved his life to stay by his side if the thought was truly so unbearable. That wasn’t the kind of ruler he was. That wasn’t the kind of person he was.

Dirk watched the tension leave Karkat’s body. He leaned lightly against the wall and looked up at nothing. “Rose gave me a choice.”

Dirk blinked. “What?”

Karkat didn’t look at him. “When she told me you were in danger, she also told me I could go to you, save you, or I could pretend she never said anything and be free. That you wouldn’t die, that the kingdom wouldn’t fall, but I wouldn’t be tied to…” he swept his arm out, gesturing vaguely, “this.”

Dirk swallowed, processing the meaning of the words.

Karkat tilted his head to look at him. “I chose you, Dirk. I’m with you ‘til the end.”

Dirk’s heart was beating hard in his ears. Karkat chose him. Why? He couldn’t bring himself to ask. “I-I--”

“I ran away from home,” Karkat said, looking away from him again. “My family had a plan for me and I didn’t like the way I fit into it, so I ran away to join the knights. I don’t regret it, I don’t want to go back, and I don’t like talking about it.”

Dirk nodded, trying to calm his heart rate. “Thank you for telling me.” He hesitated, then pushed open the door to his room. “Let’s go sit down and I… I’ll tell you about my brother.”

It felt strange, walking into Dirk’s room by invitation rather than at the summons of screams. He could see more detail by the candlelight, a second room opposite of the door to Karkat’s that he assumed was his private bath, a writing table off to one corner, and a sofa and a few chairs that Dirk led them to now, sitting in one of the cushioned chairs and gesturing for Karkat to do the same.

He sat down, mind racing at what Dirk had said. Was that the other missing piece in the book? He looked at Dirk expectantly, but it still took him a few minutes for him to speak.

“When I was four, my baby brother was born. I loved him. Everyone did. He was a happy baby, and remained a happy child, always ready to do some silly thing to brighten everyone’s day. I loved him, and swore to protect him like any good big brother would.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead, not looking at Karkat. “One day, when he was seven, we were playing and… Well, there was an accident. It was my fault. And now he’s gone. The king and queen tried to stay strong for me, for their kingdom, but two years later, they just left. I won’t get into the messy details of how the other Lalondes handled it, but suffice to say, it was an improvement when Roxy decided to leave, and we were happy for her, if worried. She has been through so much, and even though she wasn’t next in line, she was the oldest of us and was expected to deal with a lot more than she should have.”

Karkat wanted to reach out and comfort the prince, whose face was blank and tone removed as though if he didn’t look affected by it, then he wouldn’t be. But their chairs were too far apart, so he just said, “You were just a kid, Dirk. Whatever happened wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my job to keep him safe!” he snapped. He rubbed his face in his hands and sighed and said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-- I failed him. No words of comfort will change that. But I appreciate it.”

“Who else knows?” Karkat asked, knowing that wasn’t something that needed pressed, as much as he wanted to.

“No one outside the family, really, except for a few servants who cared for him. We’re kept pretty isolated before our tenth birthday. Some mix of safety precaution and tradition.”

“Thank you for trusting me with this, and… I’m so sorry.”

Dirk nodded absently. “I think-- I think it’s time to lie down. I’ll see you tomorrow, Karkat.”

Karkat stood up. “Sleep well,” he said, hoping this wouldn’t spur on anymore night terrors in his prince. Then he left through the side door to his room and laid down on his own bed, thoughts churning.

He had never really thought about why the king and queen had left, or what it must have been like for the son they left behind. He suddenly hated them. How heartless do you have to be to leave a child to run your kingdom after he already lost his brother? In a sick way, he felt more justified in leaving his own family, and more certain that Dirk was doing a better job with the country than they ever would have.

He felt more of a kinship with Roxy, too. Both of them leaving a family of pain for a new life. Maybe he should have dropped his last name and become a Strider, too, but he had been a stupid kid and hadn’t thought to lie when Matron Dolorosa asked for his name, so he was stuck with it. Not that anyone cared.

He thought about Dave, and all the other kids at the sanctuary without a family. He thought about Dirk, and how he was forced into too much responsibility too young. He tried not to think about his own family. Heart filled with pain, both empathetic and deeply held, he fell into a restless sleep.

Chapter Text

Karkat woke up to the sensation of warm and wet pooling around his face. He sat up, groggy and confused, and looked down to see his pure white pillow stained red with blood, some of it still dripping from his nose. He cursed and darted to the wash bin on a desk by his bed and cleaned his face as best he could as he waited for his nose to finish draining into it. He dryly laughed to himself at the shock of waking up to a bloody bed again, but at least this time he had someone else to wash the sheets.

Karkat pulled the rope at the front of his room for the first time since he had gotten the job, and sheepishly explained to the servant who arrived that he had a nosebleed. THe servant just nodded and gathered up the sheets, and Karkat finished getting ready for the day.

He was about to head out the door when he noticed something move out the corner of this eye. It was the paper, the one he shared with Dave. He walked over to it and watched Dave’s scribbled writing appear:

Everything’s fine. No leads yet. Don’t piss off the prince too much. - Dave

Well, they had only been gone one day. Guess he couldn’t expect anything major. Though he did wonder how things were going with Roxy. Having to suddenly be one on one with a stranger, royalty, no less, even if she no longer claimed it, had to take some adjusting to. Then again, Roxy would have to touch the paper to send the words, so maybe Dave wasn’t eager to document more of his thoughts.

Dirk was waiting for him when he exited his room, and at the sight of him, the memories of their fight and their conversation came flooding back and Karkat was suddenly nervous to meet his eyes, his heart beating hard in his chest.

“Did Sir Strider send you a note as well?” Dirk asked.

Karkat cleared his throat and nodded, forcing himself to look at the prince. Keep it together, Karkat. “Yeah. Didn’t say much, though. Basically just that they’re okay.”

“I got much the same, even if it was a little… verbose.”

Karkat snorted, then immediately regretted it as the felt liquid drip out of his nose anew. “Oh, son of a bitch ,” he said, immediately clamping a hand over his nose and mouth and darting back into his room.

Dirk hovered in the doorway while Karkat held his head over his wash bowl again. “Are you okay, Karkat?”

“Yeah,” he said, then spit out some blood that slipped in. “Just a bloody nose. Guess the nights are getting pretty dry.”

Karkat could see the prince frown in the reflection of the mirror. “We should stop by the physician and get you looked at just in case. There could be some latent side effects from your fights with the underlings.”

“I’m fine!” Karkat insisted. “Nothing else feels off.” That wasn’t exactly true. His head still ached, but not as bad as it had the past few weeks, as though the pressure was being drained out of his nose.

When the bleeding stopped again, Karkat washed his face, carefully patted it dry, trying to not reagitate his nose, and rejoined the prince.

“Okay. What’s on the docket for today?”

Dirk kept a worried eye on his guard throughout the day, but the nosebleed didn’t start up again and he seemed fine otherwise. Truthfully, Dirk was glad for the excuse to keep checking in on Karkat. He felt odd when he looked at him, like something in his chest wasn’t settling quite right, like his breath was too thin in his lungs. He had felt it since the moment Karkat explained that he threw away his chance at freedom to stay by his side, but he hadn’t given himself the chance to examine it the previous night. So now he held the feeling, turned it over in his mind, prodded at it.

He wasn’t fond of the conclusions he was drawing, but it still required further thought.

The next morning, there was no word from Roxy, and it seemed Karkat had had another bloody nose, as there was a smudge of red ghosting his upper lip. Without letting himself think too hard about where the urge came from, Dirk reached out and wiped the smudge off with his thumb, the rest of his fingers brushing Karkat’s cheek.

It was electrifying.

Maybe Karkat felt it, too, because his eyes widened at the gesture.

It took everything in Dirk’s power to casually remove his hand and not jerk it back as though burned.

There was a pang in his chest and a weight in his gut and Dirk suddenly realized just how much trouble he was really in.

Karkat cleared his throat as Dirk took his hand away. “Thanks,” he said. “What’s, uh, what’s the plan for today?”

The prince looked at his hand for a few seconds, then refocused on Karkat. “Petitioners, mostly. Best not make them wait.”

He headed off down the hall, Karkat quickly following behind.

Karkat found himself distracted for the rest of the day. Part of it was his headache apparently turning into light-headedness, but part of it was that he kept catching the prince looking at him out the corner of his eye, which Karkat could only do because he was doing the same. He could still feel the prince’s fingers on his cheek and felt the same fluttery sensation he had this morning whenever he looked at him. Anyone would feel the same after being touched by royalty. He did his best to put it out of his head.

By the time evening rolled around, Karkat was mostly successful in putting the whole thing out of his mind. That is, until he and Dirk were outside their rooms, about to part for the night.

“Good night, Karkat,” Dirk said, his voice and expression tinged with something Karkat couldn’t place. It made his stomach flip.

“Good night, Dirk,” Karkat said. As he turned to go into his room, he caught movement out the corner of his eye -- a hand, he thought, but by the time he looked, Dirk was already in his room.

Karkat sighed to himself and checked his paper for any note from Dave, but there was nothing. He wished he could write back, talk to him, get his thoughts on that day. But it would likely be intercepted by Roxy, anyway, and there was no way he wanted Dirk’s cousin reading his jumbled thoughts.

He went to bed, hoping there would be news waiting for him in the morning.

Chapter Text

18th of Jacker, 1117

Karkat,

We made it to the first safe house. Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here, which doesn’t surprise Roxy. The food stashed here makes the mess hall’s slop seem like fine dining. I told Roxy that and she laughed and said maybe she’ll have some of our slop since you still owe her dinner anyway?? You playing the field, man? Not sure Roxy is the one you want to set your sights on. She’s a little…

But you do you, dude.

Dave

PS: She read this as she was sending this and punched me. I’m blaming this on you.

Karkat smirked at the letter before sticking the paper back into his pocket. Another bloody nose this morning, but this time he had stuffed his nose with scrap cloth before bed, so most of it got absorbed.

Dirk dismissed him first thing in the morning, which nagged at the back of his mind, but he focused his attention on his training, as poor as it was by himself since just about every other knight was busy elsewhere. Still, it was nice to work up a sweat.

When he returned that evening, Karkat caught sight of the prince at the end of the hall, staring out a large stained glass window that looked out to the front of the castle, down at the road where Roxy and Dave had departed. Karkat hesitated for a moment, then turned to find a different way back to their quarters, leaving the prince to think in peace.

Chapter Text

8-20-17

Dirky-dearest,

Dave is doing great! I know you’re worried. I try to mention you sometimes and he isn’t, like, super hostile or anything about it! :D Which is a low bar, but, you know.

There was a sign of a struggle here, but it’s old and I can’t tell who was here. :(

I hope you’re treating Karkat well while we’re gone! Or maybe I hope he’s treating you well LMAO wonk wonk wonk ;;;))) He’s got some ARMS!!

<3Roxy<3

Notes from Roxy were proving to be a bag of mixed emotions. Relief, intrigue, mortification. Roxy provided it all. It didn’t help that he had been giving Karkat more time for training, and the man often came back sweaty with his sleeves rolled up past his elbows despite the crisp weather. He certainly had some arms…

No – he pushed down those foolish thoughts. He was a prince and Karkat was his bodyguard, and Dirk was already using him for his own ends as it was.

But he chose you , some little voice whispered in his head. He said it himself. Does that count for nothing?

Dirk shook the intrusive thought away.

—-

21st of Jacker, 1117

Karkat,

Are you

How is the

Roxy’s been saying

Still no news. Hope things are going well on your end.

Dave

Karkat stared at the letter in confusion. Was Dave nervous to ask him something? Or was Roxy being around preventing him from saying what he wants to say? He had half a mind to ask Dirk about it, but the prince had been more distant than usual that day and the day before. Thinking about it too hard gave him a headache, almost literally. Maybe it was his own grouchy face from being in pain half the day that was keeping Dirk away, though the prince didn’t usually mind his sour moods that much. There’s only so much people will put up with, though.

Chapter Text

8-24-17

Dirk – I think we found Rufioh!!! Keeping this quick so we don’t lose his trail.

Roxy <3

Dirk left his room, note in hand, eager to tell Karkat that there was news, but Karkat was already there and waiting for him right in front of his door with a disgruntled looking messenger held by the scruff of his collar.

“He was trying to walk into your room like he owned the place,” Karkat explained when Dirk quirked an eyebrow up at him.

“The Seer said it was urgent!” the messenger protested. “Now unhand me and let me deliver my letter!”

Karkat rolled his eyes, but released the man, who straightened out his coat and bowed low as he held a scroll out for the prince.

Dirk grabbed it and unrolled it.

The twenty-third day of Jacker, Harvest Season. Year 1117 of our Muse

Dirk,

There have been no signs of the thieves in Derse. In fact, the locals seem rather put off by the lack of their appearance, though they’d never say directly. 

As far as the underlings, I have discovered a few things in Derse’s libraries. It seems they are tied to Caliborn, the Lord of Time and, more specifically, an old cult of his followers. They were apparently all wiped out a century ago, but had been known to be able to control some of the weaker underlings. It seems a lot of writings about them were destroyed when the cult was, at least here in Derse where they had a bigger foothold, so I’m off to Prospit in hopes there will be more information preserved there. 

Kanaya and Feferi have returned to their home to investigate on their own while Jade will be accompanying me. Apparently she has some of her own connections in Prospit that may be of use.

I’ll let you know when we learn more.

Rose

PS: Tell dear Karkat to write me, will you? I miss our chats.

By the time Dirk looked up from the letter, its deliverer had already been dismissed, which just left Karkat staring at him expectantly.

“I think,” he said, rolling the scroll back up, “it’s time we paid Aradia a visit and see what all she can tell us about the Lord of Time.”

Chapter Text

It was early morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, and Dirk and Karkat were saddling their horses, strapping blankets and some rations to last them the next few days. Dirk wanted to be discreet, which meant no stopping at any inns on the way. He was dressed more plainly than Karkat had ever seen him, purple and red cloaks and other finery switched out for a simple black tunic under a leather vest, and thick black trousers. It was clear he was still well off, but he wouldn’t stick out, at least.

What did stick out was a man in bright blue on a pale horse galloping up the road toward them.

Karkat looked to Dirk for instruction. Dirk didn’t say anything, just hurriedly finished securing everything, but before he could get his foot in the stirrup, Lord Egbert was upon them, face twisted into an uncharacteristic scowl.

“Dirk,” he said curtly.

Dirk sighed, but stepped away from his horse and toward the man. “John. What brings you here so early?”

John’s frown deepened. “You’re not half as sneaky as you think you are. Did you really think some ink-stained nobody who's never been in charge of anything more precious than mouse trap placement would actually be an adequate stand-in while you’re gone?”

Karkat really wished he was not here for this.

Dirk’s face reddened. “I don’t need to justify my decisions to you.”

John laughed hollowly. “No, of course not! When do you ever need to justify anything? Leaving a disinterested Seer in charge of the kingdom for a year, fighting an ogre one on one with no back up plan if you failed, making every lord and craftsman turn on a dime because you wanted a tournament and you wanted it now !” He ticked off each on his fingers. “And now, what, you’re getting bored in the castle and instead of waiting, instead of having the patience to either send someone in your place or at least have someone proper stand in for you, you pick the first unlucky bastard you see and sneak off the next morning?”

Karkat really wished he was not here for this.

“I am your prince! You will not–” Dirk began, voice shaking.

“You are my friend and I will!” John interrupted. He swung off his horse and stomped up to Dirk. “You are my prince,” he conceded. “And my friend. And as both, I have a duty to tell you when you’re being a right prick and idiot to boot.”

“Fine,” Dirk said quietly.

Both Karkat’s and John’s eyebrows raised.

“What?” John asked.

“I said fine,” Dirk repeated. “Kneel.”

John did, confusion clear on his face.

“Sir Vantas, you are my witness,” Dirk said, as he pulled out his sword. He held it up in front of him and closed his eyes. “Lord John of House Egbert, you are called to swear your loyalty to Skaia.”

John’s eyebrows crinkled together. “Dirk, I’ve already taken my–”

“Do you accept?” the prince interrupted.

John stared at him for a second, then nodded. “I swear my loyalty to Skaia.”

Dirk placed the blade of his sword on John’s right shoulder. “Lord John of House Egbert, you are called to serve the people of Skaia.”

This sounded similar to Karkat’s own ceremony to become a knight, but the wording was off. John seemed to recognize it though. He swallowed and said, “Long may I serve the people of Skaia.”

The prince moved the blade to Lord Egbert’s left shoulder. “Lord John of House Egbert, the citizens of Skaia place their lives in your hands. Do you accept this burden?”

John took in a shaky breath. “The lives and deaths of the people of Skaia are in my hands. May I stay worthy of the burden.”

Dirk pointed the blade up again. “Muse Calliope has overseen your pledge and deems you worthy. Rise, John Egbert, Duke of the Seven Gates, heir to the Skaian throne should the Lalonde line fall.”

Karkat and John were dumbstruck as the prince sheathed his sword. He held out a hand, and John grabbed it and Dirk pulled him back up. “Does that satisfy your concern?”

Karkat couldn’t place the emotion on John’s face, but “unconcerned” definitely wasn’t it as he stared at his prince.

“Caliborn take your soul,” he finally spat.

Dirk took an automatic step back, but before he could respond, John held up his hands. “I’ll do it. I swore an oath in front of the Muse and your blasted guard dog, so I’ll… I’ll do it. But don’t think this absolves you of concern. Keep yourself alive and well and come back .” His eyes were shining by the last words. 

Karkat looked away. This whole thing was a private moment that didn’t concern him. A guard dog shouldn’t be witnessing it.

Dirk looked like he wanted to look away, too. “I’m not going to disappear,” he promised. “I just need to get some answers. It won’t take long.”

Karkat jumped as John clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Make sure he does, will ya, grumpy?” he asked, characteristic grin back in full force.

“It’s what I’m here for, right? To guard?” Karkat didn’t mean the words to come out as bitter as they did and he bites his lip. “I’ll bring him back, all limbs intact. Kicking and screaming if I must.”

John grabs Karkat by the shoulders properly, forcing eye contact. “You’re his guard dog, yes. And his friend.” Karkat opens his mouth automatically to protest, but John continues, “And from what I’ve heard from Dave and seen myself, the bark and bite of both roles will be more than enough to scare off any highwayman or wannabe usurper or damned underling that comes your way. More than enough to handle a prince who forgets what’s best for him.”

Karkat’s face heated as he realized Dave talked to John about him – talked positively it seems. He can’t formulate a response, so he just nods.

It’s good enough for John, who gives him another clap on the shoulder before releasing him and going back to Dirk.

“Safe travels, my prince.” 

Karkat didn’t look as he mounted his horse. He didn’t see how the softness of the words affected Dirk. He didn’t watch them embrace, though he couldn’t avoid hearing it in the quiet morning. He ignored the strange twisting, sinking in his stomach. He didn’t focus in again until he heard Dirk climb on his own horse and click to get them started down the road and to Aradia.

They went around the town rather than through it, avoiding patrols on the way. It was simultaneously relieving and annoying how difficult the feat was. It wasn’t until they were back on the main road, far away enough from the castle that people wouldn’t expect to see the prince around, that either of them spoke.

“John is a good man,” Dirk said, so softly Karkat could barely hear it.

“He is,” he agreed.

“I…” 

Karkat looks at Dirk expectantly, but sees the pinch of his brows and the tightness of his jaw, so he waits.

After a few moments, Dirk takes a deep breath. “When I get back, I’ll do it. I’ll schedule the coronation. I’ll figure out a proper heir – not John, if he doesn’t want it. Not –” His jaw shuts tight with a clack.

“Not Roxy?”

Dirk laughs. “Not Roxy. I think she’d kill us both for even speaking the thought aloud. Not Rose. The Lalonde line will end with me.”

A thought comes to Karkat. An, perhaps, improper thought. 

Apparently Dirk can see his internal debate on his face and asks, “Something to say?”

“It’s probably not my place,” Karkat mutters.

Dirk laughs again. “And that’s stopped you before?”

Karkat shoots him a glare. “Sometimes! You’re the one who told me to speak more freely.”

“Then do so now.”

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

Dirk grins. “All the more reason to speak your mind.”

Karkat’s heart flutters, and he clears his throat and looks away. “It’s just… I was under the impression that, you know, there were… Proper procedures in place. To, you know, produce an heir.” His hands feel sweaty gripping the reins, but he resists the urge to wipe them off on his trousers. He can feel the prince staring at him.

“Karkat, I… Well, I thought it was clear, I mean, I’ve not exactly kept it secret from you or anyone, though I suppose I’ve never outright said it, but… Karkat, you know I’m not interested in women, right?”

Karkat can feel himself blushing in full force. He had suspected, but hadn’t known for sure. Well, he knew he was into men at least, but… “I have heard that some people make… Exceptions?” He’s still looking at the road, unable to meet Dirk’s eyes.

“I don’t make exceptions,” Dirk says sharply. “I will sacrifice a lot for my country and its people. I will not sacrifice my identity. Not when there are other options.”

Karkat looks at him now, but he’s not looking back now, his face hard. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Karkat gestures uselessly with one hand. “Whatever. I – I understand.”

Dirk snorts, making Karkat bristle.

“I do ! I – “ He never told anyone why he left home. Not even Dave. Of course, Dave never told him either. It was an unspoken agreement that the past was the past. “I told you I ran away from home, right?”

Dirk nodded. “You said your family had a plan for you. One you didn’t want to be a part of.”

Karkat nodded stiffly. “My brother was a Seer of Blood. He had a – a vision, or whatever the fuck, that my future family would be important. That has implications, you know? All Seers do is say dumb shit that has annoying implications. These ones my family liked. Vantas used to be a noble house. Maybe my future family would make it one again.” He paused. The next bit was important, and it wasn’t secret , but something he usually preferred to keep to himself. Especially after running away. “I’m trans. I’m sure you can put some of those implications together. I couldn’t accept what he Saw. What my family expected. I won’t .” He stopped again. Focused on getting his breathing and heart rate down to a normal rhythm. “ I understand. ”

Dirk looked at him silently for a long while. “I suppose you do,” he said finally, an earnestness underlying his words. “Thank you for – Karkat? Are you okay?” 

There was an alarm in the prince’s voice and Karkat couldn’t figure out why until he felt something drip onto his hand. He looked down just in time to see a splatter of blood join the first. He lifted his hand to his nose. It was leaking furiously. How didn’t he notice that before? He looked at Dirk, saw his mouth move, but couldn’t hear the words. He felt himself falling back, and then the world went black.

Chapter Text

Karkat opened his eyes and immediately closed them, groaning as the sunlight filtering through the leaves above him pierced his throbbing skull. When he opened them again, Dirk was hovering over him, brows pinched and mouth tight in concern. 

He placed the back of one hand on Karkat’s forehead. “No fever.” The hand moved to his wrist, pressing his fingers against it for a few moments. His frown deepened. “Pulse is a little quick.” 

Karkat jerked his hand away, a flush rising to his cheeks. “I’m fine.”

Dirk just stared at him. “You blacked out and fell off your horse. You’ve been out most of the day. I don’t think ‘fine’ is the operative word here.” When Karkat didn’t have any response to that, he continued, “You’ve been having nosebleeds for a while. Have there been any other symptoms? Have you blacked out before?”

Karkat struggled to sit up and lean against the tree he was under, but Dirk only barely backed up to give him space to do so. Karkat hadn’t felt his gaze so intently on him since the tournament. “I haven’t blacked out before.”

“So you’ve had other symptoms.” It wasn’t a question. His gaze flicked up, and Karkat could practically hear the gears turning, frown deepening. “Headaches too, I assume,” he finally said, and it felt like he’s pronouncing Karkat’s death sentence. “This is from your fights. From when I…” He trailed off, falling back on his haunches, his expression carefully neutral. “I thought their healing would be enough…” he muttered under his breath.

“What?”

Dirk’s eyes went wide, as though he hadn’t realized he said it outloud, then guilt washed over his features. “After the physician said you couldn’t fight. I talked with Rose and the fey. They agreed to… heal you. Or speed up the process. Or something. I didn’t ask for details. I should have.”

Memories of Kanaya asking how he felt after his almost miraculous recovery, Feferi looking tired the next day, and when they asked again when he was escorting the Seer and the fey to the border rushed back to him, as did a wave of pain, and this time he felt the blood trickle from his nose. But there was something else. Something behind those memories. He felt like it was trying to burst through his skull.

Curiosity warred with concern on Dirk’s face as he wiped away the blood with a damp cloth. “Rose asked after you. Wanted you to write her. Perhaps you should,” he said absently. “For now we should switch topics. Talking about it seems to make it worse.”

Karkat grunted his agreement, not feeling up to nodding his head.

“Do you think you can eat?”

Karkat shrugged. He felt nauseated, but that could be more the pain in his head than anything. If he had really been out so long, he probably needed to try, at least. “Yeah.”

Dirk stood and dusted off his breeches, then went to the small fire pit Karkat hadn’t noticed before. There was a pot positioned above it, and from it Dirk ladled something into a bowl and brought it back to Karkat. “It’s not going to taste great,” he warned, “but I figured a simple broth might do you better than anything heavy. And I added a few herbs to it. Just the ones I could remember for certain helped with pain.”

Karkat accepted the bowl. He didn’t realize how cold his hands were until he felt the heat radiate through his fingers pleasantly. He sipped, and did his best not to immediately grimace. “Not great,” were certainly the words for it. Still, he gulped it down, his stomach sloshing but settled. Dirk didn’t say anything, just poked at the fire, as Karkat laid back against the tree and closed his eyes. Just to rest them for a moment. Give the herbs a chance to kick in.

It was dark when Karkat finally awoke, his neck strained from his less than comfortable sleeping position, but his head was no longer throbbing, and his stomach only had the normal groans of hunger. He fished some rations out of his pack in the light of the dying embers, careful not to wake Dirk. As he did so, he found he had packed one of the books he had bought with his tournament winnings. He hadn’t read it since that night in the inn with Rose the month before.

Double checking Dirk was still asleep, he pulled it out and read through it as he ate – and almost choked on his food.

Some of the missing words had been filled in.

What used to read:

Even before their disappearance, tragedy struck the Lalondes over and over. First with the deaths of Lavender, the queen’s sister, and her wife Mary while their daughter , Rose         ,      still young. Then there was the disappearance and presumed death of     , the                    , just a few years ago.

Now read:

Even before their disappearance, tragedy struck the Lalondes over and over. First with the deaths of Lavender, the queen’s sister, and her wife Mary while their daughters, Rose and Roxy , were still young. Then there was the disappearance and presumed death of Roxy , the oldest of the girls , just a few years ago.

He flipped through the pages. There were still a few blank spots, but references to Roxy could now be found throughout the book.

It clicked. The notes between Roxy and Dirk and himself and Dave worked by Roxy removing them from her and Dave’s pages and removing the lack of them from his and Dirk’s. Okay, so that still didn’t make a ton of sense – Karkat was sure he’d never fully understand aspect shit – but if she could remove messages, who’s to say she couldn’t remove references to her true identity?

So why did they appear now? Because Karkat knew about her? If he showed this book to someone who didn’t, would the words stay blank?

But there was still at least one thing he didn’t know; at least one thing still erased from the book. Karkat read one of those sections again.

There was also a rumor that I have learned by talking to some of the staff of the castle of a                 their highnesses Broderick and Roxanne, a                 for Prince Diederik, who in turn                                               .

Karkat frowned at the page. Dirk told him about his younger brother; the one whose death he feels responsible for. Why isn’t that filled in?

Karkat skimmed the book again, but none of the rest had any more clues to what else he didn’t know.

He slammed the book closed in frustration, then regretted it as he heard Dirk stir. He quickly shoved the book back in his bag and shoved the last of his food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing at a rate he usually chided Dave for.

Dirk rubbed his eyes then jolted with alarm, hand going for his knife and his eyes immediately landing on Karkat. Only then did he relax.

“Morning,” Karkat said.

“Is it?” Dirk glanced at the sky above the trees, the reddish orange light of dawn starting to break through. “I suppose it is.” He stretched and stood up. “I hadn’t intended on falling asleep. How long have you been up? How are you feeling?”

“Not long. Better. I hate that we wasted a day on this,” Karkat grumbled.

Dirk gave him a level look. “You fell off your horse . I’ve half a mind to go back to the castle–”

“Absolutely not!”

Dirk smirked. “-- if I didn’t know you’d oppose it.”

Karkat flushed.

“We’re not far from the dig site, anyway. Might as well finish the trip. Have you eaten?”

Karkat nodded. 

“Then I’ll eat as we ride.”

By the time they packed up the camp and started off, the sun was high enough to light their way through the trees and back to the road.

As Dirk had said, it didn’t take long for them to reach where the road branched off to a much less traveled trail that lead to the ruins, marked by a worn stone post that read “Lotak.”

“Is that what this place used to be?” Karkat asked, gesturing to the structure.

Dirk nodded. “Not much is known about it. The theory is it was an old city state destroyed by some sort of war or natural disaster. Superstition used to keep out anyone but brigands, but my grandparents had the place cleared out, planning to rebuild a settlement there. But some guilds came together to petition to use it for research before any construction ruined what little history remained.”

“Still enough for everyone to still be out here digging,” Karkat noted.

Dirk nodded. “Apparently it’s hundreds of years old. I’m sure Aradia is dying to tell us all about it,” he said fondly.

Karkat chuckled, but it was cut short as they heard shouting up ahead.

The two traded looks, then urged their horses forward.

They saw smoke in the distance, thankfully faint, though it caught sharp in their lungs as they got closer.

The shouts became clearer: for medics, for help clearing away rubble, and cries of pain.

Finally it was in sight. The main archeological camp was in ruins. The few recent structures were smoldering, tents were torn down, people were clearing stones from seemingly newly made piles, and Karkat’s stomach twisted as he envisioned the people that must be trapped beneath.

The pair hopped off their horses and tied them to a post, then dashed toward what looked like the makeshift triage area in the center.

Aradia must have noticed them, because she called their names and rushed over. “You two are safe!”

Dirk looked confused. “Of course we are. What happened here?”

Aradia shook her head. “You were supposed to be here yesterday.”

“We were held up. What happened here?” Dirk repeated more urgently.

Aradia wrung her hands, her face twisted with worry. “ They thought you would be here yesterday. Last night. This morning.”

Karkat grabbed Aradia’s hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “Aradia, we’re fine. Who thought we were going to be here? Who did this?”

Aradia squeezed back, then closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “The Thieves of Flight.”

Chapter Text

8-26-17

Rufioh quit. Nepeta’s pretty banged up, but still rarin to go. I’m making her lay low and heal til we figure out wtfs going on.

sys

roxy

26th of Jacker, 1117

Rufioh quit and Roxy is taking it pretty hard. I think she feels responsible for what happened even though she agrees with me when I tell her it’s not. Yeah, Roxy, I know you have to look at this when you send it so maybe actually believe me this time!

Between you and me (and Roxy) I think something’s fishy about Rufioh up and quitting but it’s not like I know the guy or anything.

We’re heading back home. Should be back in a few days.

Dave

Chapter Text

26 Jacker, 1117

John,

We barely missed an ambush at the ruins. Don’t look so smug; it’s unattractive. Aradia and the rest are fine, for the most part. Some of the workers had to be sent to a proper healer, but the one there was able to take care of most of the injured. The attack seemed targeted, beyond just ravaging through the sleeping quarters looking for us, but I don’t have enough to go on to know for sure.

Roxy and Sir Strider are on their way back, but Sir Vantas and I have another stop to make. Don’t give me that look. We will send word as we can.

Dirk

26 Jacker, 1117

Rose,

I am struck with nostalgia for the summers of our childhood. I look forward to when you can next return home. I have learned much at the ruins.

Dirk

P.S. Are you aware of the source of Sir Vantas’s headaches?

Chapter Text

Dirk had been leading them through side roads and fields all morning, which kept Karkat on edge. He had tried getting in the lead, but Dirk didn’t have directions to his family’s old summer cabin as much as instincts based on landmarks and a general location. This did not make Karkat feel any better. So it was only natural that when they were walking into a clearing and Dirk suddenly stopped, looked around warily, and gestured for Karkat to stay behind him, the knight had little patience and instead slid off his horse and went out to investigate himself. He could feel Dirk’s frown on him, but he didn’t care.

Karkat unsheathed his sword and carefully made his way to a tree on the edge of the clearing. He peeked around it. Nothing except the cabin a few meters away, its door slightly ajar, but no carriage he was sure Rose would have taken here. Hackles raised, Karkat was about to move to the other side of the tree for more visibility, when he caught movement out the corner of his eye. Without conscious thought, Karkat’s blade swung toward the figure and immediately clashed with another, blades sliding against each other and locking at the hilts.

The figure now in full view, Karkat let out a sigh of relief and lowered his sword. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Dave laughed as he put his blade away. “A bit jumpy, ‘Kat?”

Karkat wordlessly gestured to Dirk without looking as the prince finished approaching and hopped off his horse.

Dave snickered.

“Where’s Roxy?” Dirk asked, stopping a few paces away from the knights.

“Ta-da!”

Karkat nearly jumped out of his skin as Roxy popped out of nowhere behind Dirk, hands covering his eyes.

Dirk seemed unimpressed as he peeled off Roxy’s hands. “Weren’t you supposed to be heading back to the palace?”

Roxy grabbed the reins of Dirk’s horse, which Karkat now saw were tied to his, and started skipping toward the cabin. “Rose snitched.”

“I didn’t ‘snitch’,” Rose called from the doorway. “I simply informed Roxy there was to be a family meeting. With plus ones.”

Were all the Lalonde women capable of popping out of nowhere?

“She got here before us,” Dave said.

Rose shrugged and opened the door wider for everyone to walk through, revealing Jade behind her. “Teleportation is normally extremely risky, but it’s not overly complicated if you’re teleporting a Seer to a place she’s intimately familiar with, and no one else will be there to cause… collisions.”

“I could have been here when I wrote you,” Dirk said with a frown.

Rose smiled pleasantly. “But you weren’t.”

Jade snickered.

After Roxy tied up the horses outside, the unexpectedly large group gathered around the dining table. There weren’t enough chairs for them all, and while Roxy offered to grab seating from elsewhere in the cabin, Dave and Karkat both preferred to stand, flanking Roxy and Dirk respectively. They gave each other a look signifying neither of them thought they would have anything to add to the discussion, anyway.

“So, why the sudden need for a secret meeting?” Rose asked. “It’s been a while since you’ve felt the need for such a coded message, as simple as it may have been.”

“After your letter about the cult you mentioned, I decided to pay Aradia a visit.” Dirk paused, as though expecting some reaction, maybe the same disapproval he received from John, but none came. “She’s one of the foremost historians, especially on more… fantastical aspects and theories of this area, and artifacts related to Caliborn have been found in the Lotak ruins. However, we arrived a day later than expected,” Rose’s eyebrow quirked up at this, “and discovered the archeological site had been attacked in the night. Apparently, the Thieves of Flight were looking for me.”

“Regicide? That doesn’t seem like their sort of thing,” Roxy said. “Not like they’ve never killed anyone, but they’re, you know, thieves, not assassins.”

“I don’t think killing me was their main goal, or, at least, not their only one. They caused more destruction than simply scouring the sleeping quarters – they toppled structures, and stole or destroyed various books and artifacts. I believe they tried to make it seem random, but thankfully Aradia and the rest of the team keep detailed records, and we were able to pick up on the pattern that they were primarily targeting the period after Lotak became part of Skaia, some three hundred years ago.”

Rose closed her eyes, though Karkat could still see the faint yellow glow they emitted. After a moment, she opened her eyes, a slight crease between her brows. “I am not sure I have anything more helpful to add. Even if my research in Prospit hadn’t been understandably cut short, I don’t believe they had much relating to Lotak. However, this is clearly tied to the cult that worshipped Caliborn. If this is some sort of resurgence of the cult, the question is whether the Thieves were there to retrieve something the cult desires, or keep information out of our hands. Or both,” Rose said with a sigh. “I don’t suppose Aradia or the team had any copies of the missing books or other artifacts?”

Dirk shook his head. “They had recently begun the process of copying some more fragile books, but they hadn’t gotten far, and the majority are older than the time period we’re looking at.”

Rose looked to Jade. “Your people have your own records, though I did not peruse any about more recent Skaian history while I was in the grove. Do you believe we could request their assistance?”

“I don’t know how much longer we can delay looking for information that may not exist,” Dirk interrupted. Rose and Jade shot him a scathing look, but Dirk held his ground. “We need to meet with Princes Eridan and Kurloz.”

“One or both could very well be involved,” Rose noted. “Meeting with them could tip our hand too soon.”

“Not if we can catch them off guard,” Jade said. “You asked about our records, yeah? What if there was a more… portable version than you had access to?” Jade’s ears tilted down just a little as she smiled at Rose, whose tight lipped frown couldn’t hide her clear interest. “I’ll have to get it approved,” Jade added quickly, “but an answer either way won’t take long. I say you set up the summit. If we get a yes, we have the upper hand. If we don’t, at least we’re not sitting around hoping to find the right book.”

“I don’t suppose I could learn more about what exactly you mean by portable records, as I assume it’s something more complicated than a pile of books?”

Jade grinned. “Not if we don’t get the okay! All you human rulers have done a great job of fucking things up every time we’ve tried to help you for the past millennea, so fat chance of you learning a letter more than absolutely necessary.”

Dirk nodded. “That seems fair enough.”

Jade’s eyes went wide for a second, and she studied him closely as Rose said, “The location of the summit is another obstacle. While the princes had no issues visiting for the tournament, requesting a meeting between the three of you in Skaia with little information as to why will raise some hackles. Unless you’re planning on telling them it’s to discuss an old cult to the Lord of Destruction in which case I am sure there will be no tension at all.”

Roxy snorted.

This gave Dirk pause. “Choosing one of their countries over the other wouldn’t be any better, even if I didn’t already have the Thieves and underlings after me, if not more,” he mused.

Silence fell on the group as they considered their options.

Karkat had an idea. But if he had thought of it, surely the others have as well, right? 

After another few moments of no one speaking, “What about the Plains? The, uh, Bilious Plains?”

“‘Lord of the Bilious Plains’ is one of your many illustrious titles,” Roxy said with a grin.

Dirk didn’t seem convinced. “There is a long history of war over ownership of the Plains between Derse, Prospit, and even Skaia. I don’t want to open any old wounds. Especially with my title.”

“Not to sound like an idiot, but what does being a lord over it even mean? It still has a ruler, right? And I never hear anything about it.”

Dirk shrugged uncomfortably. “I could technically be more involved, if I desired, but I see no reason to micromanage Prince Felix’s affairs. Mostly it signifies that the Bilious Plains are under Skaia’s protection, and that we would assume control if something happens to the prince without them having selected an heir. Which, I of course assured them I would find a suitable replacement from the Plains for the throne rather than ruling myself,” Dirk added quickly. “And in the spirit of not wanting to meddle, I would not want to impose on them.”

“Do you have another idea?”

Dirk sighed. “No. And Prince Felix’s presence may prevent things from getting too heated, should our discussion not go well,” he admitted.

“Then we’ll begin our preparations. But first, shall we eat?” Rose looked at Dave, whose stomach, as if on queue, let out an audible growl.

Dave flushed. “I wouldn’t say no to some grub.”

The group was retiring around the fire after eating the lunch Rose and Jade had brought with them, when Rose tapped Dirk on the shoulder and led him to one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind them. “You asked about Karkat’s headaches?”

Dirk nodded.

“Have they been severe?”

“He blacked out on the road,” Dirk said bluntly. “He’s been having nosebleeds, too.”

“Anything else?”

Dirk stared at her. “Are you expecting there to be?”

Rose bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Bruising? Wounds that bleed more than they should? Or perhaps paler, colder skin and shakes. Swelling.”

“That’s quite a range of symptoms.”

It was Rose’s turn to stare. “Surely you know what they have in common?”

Dirk was taken aback and ran the list again through his mind. “Blood?”

Rose nodded.

Dirk paled. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I thought you knew.”

“What? How would I know if he has some sort of blood disease?”

Rose sat down on the bed. “I thought you knew. After what the girls told me. I thought that’s why you chose him for your scheme.”

“My scheme?” In the rush of the events of the past month, Dirk had almost forgotten why he had a personal guard in the first place. Why Karkat was his guard. “I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”

Rose looked at him as a very patient teacher looks at a child struggling with his lessons. “You wanted to be close to Dave again.”

Dirk stilled. “I would never be that presumptuous. I just wanted to keep an eye on him. Make sure he was okay.”

Rose grabbed his arms and pulled him to the bed next to her, which Dirk didn’t resist, then held one of his hands in both of hers. “You could have chosen any knight for that. You wanted to know him.”

Dirk nodded silently.

“So you chose his best friend.”

The sentence had the slight lilt of a question. “Yes,” Dirk said cautiously. “That’s why I chose Karkat.”

Rose fidgeted with Dirk’s hand and bit her lip. “It’s so obvious. Too obvious. I thought there was something more. And then I thought I figured it out. But you really are a simple man sometimes, Dirk,” she said affectionately.

“Rose, what are you talking about?”

“Karkat is an aspect user. Blood, if you hadn’t guessed.”

“And you thought I knew. You thought I would try to force some connection using another man’s aspect,” Dirk said coldly.

Rose tsked him and swatted his hand. “I thought you would try to fix the bond vicariously.”

“Would that work?” Dirk regretted asking as soon as the words left his mouth. He wasn’t sure if Rose’s slight headshake did more to create or relieve the pain.

“It seems unlikely, especially in Karkat’s situation.”

“What do you mean?”

Rose considered her words. “I wasn’t there, so at best I can give you a poorly summarized secondhand account; you’d have to ask Feferi for details. But from my understanding, Karkat’s power was dormant. Usually aspect abilities are revealed in childhood, but in some cases, they’re repressed. It’s not well studied, so theories vary: Trauma? Shame? Intervention from another aspect user? Or simply late bloomers? Whatever the case, Feferi tapped into it while she healed him, though she couldn’t say whether they were already in the process of emerging or if she unlocked it somehow.”

“So why didn’t any of you tell him? How is this connected to his headaches?”

“If he had come into his power young, he may very well have been a prodigy in its use. He’s powerful, but that power has been contained inside of him, growing with him but with no release. It could have destroyed him, if Feferi hadn’t sealed it again. This time, with a valve; a little hole in the seal for him to grow into them as he would have as a child.”

“So the nosebleeds, blacking out, it means the seal didn’t work,” Dirk said tersely, guilt and concern and anger battling in his mind.

“It means it’s breaking faster than it was meant to.” Rose squeezed his hand. “Dirk, it’s not your fault. This may have even been the best case scenario for him – that much power couldn’t have been contained forever. After the summit in the Plains, we’ll figure this out.”

Dirk nodded wordlessly, then closed his eyes, focused on his breathing, and set his anxiety aside. Rose was right. Whatever was happening with Karkat’s aspect, there wasn’t time to do anything about it until after meeting with the other princes, anyway. All the more reason to hurry the preparations along.

Chapter Text

Dirk, Rose, Jade, and even Roxy were crowded around the table writing letters and making plans B through Z. Karkat had tried to hang around, but he quickly realized there was little need. There was no worry of an ambush, and Karkat certainly didn't have anything to add after he suggested going to the Bilious Plains at their first meeting. Plus, Dave hadn’t bothered to join everyone this time, so Karkat stepped away without comment, no one even glancing at him as he left.

Dave was outside in the paddock tending to their horses. He had already filled the water trough from the well, which Roxy and Dirk’s horses were drinking from. Karkat’s was grazing, and Dave was brushing his down, looking meditative.

When Dave didn't look up as he approached, Karkat cleared his throat. Dave’s hand twitched to his blade in a movement too subtle for most people to notice before he turned to Karkat with a wry smile. “You getting into the Lalonde habit of sneaking up on people or something?”

“Maybe you're just losing your edge.”

Dave snorted. “You wish.”

Karkat just grinned. He leaned against a fencepost as he watched Dave work. He always loved the way Dave could get lost in his tasks. When they had first met, Dave was more flighty. Dolorosa couldn’t get him to focus on his training or chores or anything, even though he had been there a couple years before Karkat arrived. It was one of the reasons they hadn’t gotten along at first.

But now, when he directed his attention to something, his intensity almost rivaled Dirk’s. Karkat could almost laugh at the idea of comparing Dave and Dirk. They didn’t have much more in common than that, right?

“I take it they’re still making plans?” Dave asked, still focused on the horse.

“Yeah, though I’m not sure how much more they can plan. I get they need to be careful, but at this point I wouldn’t be surprised they’re trying to estimate how tall the chairs will be to make sure everyone’s at an optimal eye level.”

“That sounds like them,” Dave said with a laugh.

That tugged at something Karkat hadn’t thought about in what had only been a few months, but felt like years. Back at the tournament, when Karkat was sure there was something going on between Dave and Dirk. But Karkat promised to drop it. He wouldn’t go back on that now. Still…

“It’s kinda weird, right?”

This actually got Dave to stop and look back at him. “What is?”

“‘That sounds like them.’ It’s weird that we’re so familiar with them now. Royalty. Fey.”

“Yeah. Weird for sure.” Dave let the horse into the paddock with the others, tossed the brush to the side, and hopped on the fence next to Karkat. “Good weird or bad weird?”

“Good weird. For the most part. Potential war and boogeymen from storybooks go solidly in the ‘bad weird’ category,” Karkat said wryly. “What about you?”

Dave shrugged. “I think it’s good weird that the prince is back in your good graces,” he teased. “You used to idolize him, but the tournament had you do a 180 on the guy.”

“I wasn’t wrong,” Karkat said defensively. “He was up to something, but I think being up to something is just the natural Lalonde state of being. Or the royal state of being.”

“You’re not wrong,” Dave muttered.

Another tug, like a throbbing behind Karkat’s eyes. “How was it spending all that time with Roxy? I know she’s not technically royalty anymore, but it still had to be weird, right?”

Dave laughed. “I don’t think being ex-royalty has anything to do with how weird it is to be around Roxy.” There was an affection in his tone that Karkat did not often hear from him. Nothing against their comrades in arms, but the two of them never got really close to anyone else. Until Dave met –

“Holy shit I can’t believe I forgot to tell you about John!”

Dave almost fell off the fence. He gripped Karkat’s shoulder, and almost knocked him off as Dave turned Karkat toward him. “What do you mean? What happened to John?”

“Nothing! Nothing bad, at least. Probably? He’s fine!”

Dave sighed and his body drooped as Karkat watched the panic physically drain from it. “Fucking hell, dude. Way to give me a heart attack. What does ‘probably nothing bad’ mean, then?”

“He confronted Dirk as we were leaving. I hadn’t seen the guy angry before.”

Dave grimaced.

“He really tore into Dirk. He–” Karkat paused, unsure of how much he should relay, even to Dave. He felt even he shouldn’t have heard it all. “Succession was brought up,” he summarized.

“Yeah, there’s not much of a plan for that, is there?” Dave’s voice was flat, bordering on snide. Which seemed… Odd? Maybe Roxy had talked to him about this stuff.

“Yeah. There wasn’t a plan.”

That got Dave’s attention. “You don’t mean…”

“Dirk swore John in as the heir apparent.”

The blood drained out of Dave’s face before rushing back in a fury. “That fucking asshole !” He hopped off the fence and started for the cabin but Karkat clambered off as well and grabbed his arm. He could feel it shaking in his grip.

“Hey, it’s not that big of a deal, is it? John’s already lord of the capital and it’s not like it was against his will. He figured out what it was as he was being sworn in.” Karkat quickly realized his mistake.

“ As he was being sworn in ?” Dave repeated coldly. “It wasn’t even a discussion ?”

“It’s only temporary! I think. It – We were in a rush to leave. And John –” 

“Caliborn take your soul.” That’s what John had said.

“Once we get back, I’m sure Dirk can figure out something else,” Karkat finished lamely. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. Besides, if you two get hitched, that’ll put you in line for the throne, too, right?” Karkat joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Dave jerked his arm out of Karkat’s grasp, and turned, face red, jaw clenched. Karkat braced for a fist to the face – 

And then in a second he looked calmer. His face was pink, not red, and he looked tired, resigned rather than furious. “Karkat, there are three people of royal blood in the cabin right now. One of them escaped to a forest that Dolorosa used to scare the little kids in line. Another erased herself from the fucking history books. The third swings between micromanagement and throwing himself into suicide missions. I don’t want anything to do with that, and neither should you.”

Karkat could only stare dumbstruck as Dave turned and walked back to where he left his brush and got back to grooming his horse. Karkat took the hint and headed back to the cabin, almost tripping over a knocked over stool and some loose tools that he swore were in their proper places when he came out just a few minutes ago.

Chapter Text

Fouler 1st, 1117

My Lord Diederik,

I would be delighted to host this meeting between your great kingdom and the Confederation. We of the Bilious Plains appreciate the light hand with which you have reigned so far, but rest assured we are at your every whim. Our gratitude for your intervention in our hour of need is endless. Please forward my acquiescence to Princes Kurloz and Eridan, and rest assured I will be a most excellent host.

I will be placing this letter on the dining table exactly as the sun reaches its zenith as instructed by our most beloved and wise Seer.

Your humble servant,

Prince Felix of the Bilious Plains

Dirk ripped up the letter as soon as he read it. He always felt uneasy having any sort of ownership of the Plains, and the way Prince Felix grovelled… Well, he just hoped it wouldn’t affect the talks with the other princes.

Their responses came soon after.

Diederik,

I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you better not be wasting my time.

Prince Eridan of Derse the Derse-Prospit Confederation

------

Prince Diederik Lalonde of Skaia

1 Fouler 1117

I have looked to the Mirthful Lords and Muses that guide us all and accept your invitation to converse of the wickedness that has befallen us. It brings me great joy to return to the fateful land now bestowed unto you. The history kept locked in its vaults are of great import to the Mirthful Machinations and that little prince under your thumb is the key. I give you these revelations as an offer of our continued brotherhood for the great boon you have given our Confederation, and in the hopes you will trade with your own.

Tell your Seer we were sad to see her visit cut short. Our libraries remain open for her perusal should she wish to return.

Yours under the Blessed Eyes of Muse Aeidein and Lord Niwha,

Prince Kurloz of the Derse-Prospit Confederation

“Cryptic as always,” Rose noted with a tut as Dirk finished reading.

“More troubling this time.”

Rose nodded. “But useful. He knows something.”

“Or he’s misdirecting us. I’m not sure what the Bilious Plains has to do with anything.”

Rose tutted again. “They’ve been a source of contention for generations. I wouldn’t be surprised if it goes back to the time of the Cult of Caliborn. It was spared from whatever disaster befell Lotak, but that may have only helped hide its secrets.”

Dirk remained unconvinced.

------

Karkat had brought some of the books he had bought at the tournament. He had initially figured that, at best, Aradia would be interested in seeing some of them, and, at worst, he’d have something to read while Aradia and Dirk talked about whatever history or even royal bullshit Karkat wasn’t really involved in. Now it served the same purpose in the cabin as they finished up their planning. Especially now that Dave wasn’t in the mood for much socializing. Karkat needed a distraction.

He pulled out a book that looked decades older than the others with its worn cover that seemed to hang a little loose from the pages. It was a general history of the area, but he flipped to the pages about the Bilious Plains.

It didn’t seem much more enlightening than the other books, though this one had some academic arguing in the form of scratched out words and added notes. The history seemed to be, well, no history. Recorded, at least. Just what Karkat and everyone else already knew – the Plains have been a hotbed of conflict over who owned it for ages. This book must have been pretty old, as it even made it seem like Skaia was throwing its hat in the ring to conquer it, even though Karkat was pretty sure the la– er Dirk’s parents hadn’t been interested in it. Maybe not even the king and queen before then, but he wasn’t as sure on that.

The only thing of any real note was that it seems like Felix might be a family name, as a Prince Felix was ruling when this was written as well. But royals were known for that sort of thing, right? Karkat was pretty sure Dirk was named after one of his ancestors as well.

Frustrated, Karkat shoved the book back in his pack and went out to practice his swordsmanship. Maybe if he was lucky, Dave would come out to join him.

Chapter Text

It took a lot of restraint for Karkat to not look back at the carriage. While he was glad Rose had convinced Dirk to rent one rather than show up to the palace dusty from riding on horseback to an international summit, he was now met with new concerns. Many of them having to do with what he would consider to be the opposite of dust. Karkat hadn’t completely ignored Dolorosa’s geography lessons, but reading about the wetlands and actually riding through them were apparently two very different things. The road started out normal enough, but the dirt packed road became more littered with small bridges until eventually they gave up and just built a causeway as the main road to the capitol. It was solid enough, but narrow, and part of Karkat’s brain insisted that any moment the horses would move just a little too far one way or the other and plummet the carriage into the surrounding swamp.

But with Roxy holding the reins and Dave riding behind, there was nothing to worry about. Between the two of them they would notice if something was going to go wrong and be able to stop it. Somehow.

It wasn’t his most comforting thought, but it was enough to keep his eyes focused ahead for other types of dangers. Not that he could imagine assassins being able to sneak up on them here. The waters didn’t seem to be deep enough for anyone to swim through and trudging through it would be heard well ahead of being seen, and the trees were far enough apart that no one could hop between and ambush them from. Probably. They were called the “Thieves of Flight” but they couldn’t actually fly. Right?

“Relax, dear,” Rose called from behind, eerily perceptive as always. “Save your vigilance for the palace and just take in the scenery, won’t you?”

There was no point in responding – it’s not like they were close enough for an actual conversation, so Karkat kept his gaze fixed ahead. He had plenty vigilance for here and the palace. There was too much at stake for anything less.

The causeway didn’t turn into an actual paved road until the capital city was in sight, as the wetlands slowly turned into something more resembling the solid ground Karkat was used to. The city itself was, well, stretching the definition of what Karkat would call a city. Not that Skaia’s capital was grand, especially not compared to Derse and Prospit’s, but the mid-day hustle and bustle was little more than a few dozen people casually stepping out of the way of their cavalcade, barely sparing them a glance as they continued chatting. He supposed a rented carriage and a pair on horseback didn’t look important enough, especially if Princes Eridan and Kurloz had already passed through. At least it meant they wouldn’t be an obvious target.

The palace itself was smaller than Skaia’s, as Karkat expected, and looked much older, which he did not. He was sure Aradia would have something to say about the architecture – he thought it almost looked a little similar to some of the Lotak ruins, but he also hadn’t really traveled out of Skaia, so what did he know?

There were only a couple guards at the palace gates that sort of casually waved them through, much to Karkat’s ire, and a stablehand dashed out to take care of the horses as they neared the stairs leading up to the entrance. Karkat quickly dismounted and handed over the reins but stopped short as he turned toward the carriage. He hadn’t noticed a second person approach, one he almost thought was Prince Kurloz from the bright face paint, but this man was shorter and lankier, and the green and red markings were darker, the reds leaning more toward purple than bright cherry red. The makeup around his mouth looked more like exaggerated lipstick than the prince’s threads, and instead of diamonds, the markings over his eyes were in the shape similar to the blade of a shovel, one with the tip pointing up and the other down. The spirals were still the same, though. More importantly, the man was standing poised with a hand extended to help Rose and Dirk out of the carriage. Karkat glanced at Roxy who was with the horses as she waited for the stablehand to return, and she glanced back with raised eyebrows before turning back to the horses, though facing the carriage.

Rose was the first to accept the man’s hand with a curious smile, and Karkat rushed to help Dirk down before the man could turn back for him.

The man smiled wide, too wide, it felt, and Karkat wondered if the makeup around his lips was intended to be unsettling or just an unfortunate side effect. He bowed and gestured to the entrance, then, after making sure the stablehand was taking care of the rest of the horses, led the way. There was another pair of guards at the large doors opening them and, to Karkat, looking more than a little annoyed at having to do any work.

They passed through the foyer and the great hall in silence, but just as Karkat had started to wonder if the man shared the same vow of silence the prince of Prospit did (that was why he didn’t speak, right? Karkat cursed his past self for not studying more), they entered the throne room and the man belted, “The fu– The Lord of the Bilious Plains has mo– has arrived my beloved brothers and sisters, my theys and thems, my siblings of genders yet to be shown under the light of the Lords and Muses above! All present bow to Prince Diederik of Skaia, Lord of the Bilious Plains, and the royal Seer blessed by Muse Luca herself!” He stopped and looked back at the party and continued in a much more muted voice, “And the rest of these motherfuckers.”

The Karkat could only stare as the man shambled off toward the front of the room and next to the throne, which only just then did Karkat realize was occupied, if only briefly as said occupant quickly stood and bowed to Dirk before walking down the dais toward them.

The Prince of the Bilious Plains wasn’t much taller than Karkat, yet still seemed to stoop a little lower as they approached. Bright and bold on the front their tunic, clashing terribly with the maroon, was a large bronze emblem of Skaia on a blue background. It was probably the most extravagant part of their attire, outside of the simple silver circlet that was almost hidden in their light brown hair. Karkat didn’t know a lot about politics, but he wondered if showing such an in-your-face reminder that Skaia technically ruled over the Bilious Plains would be taken well by the princes of the Derse-Prospit Confederation.

Something for Dirk to worry about, probably. As long as it didn’t escalate to an actual physical fight.

They bowed to Dirk again when they reached the group, almost perpendicular with the floor. “My Lord, a pleasure to have you, as always.” They bowed to Rose as well, though not quite so deeply. “And Seer Lalonde, of course, though I have not had the pleasure of your acquaintance before now.”

Rose curtsied. “I apologize for my neglect. I hear the Plains has its share of history not as widely known as the rest of the continent, and while my understanding of architecture is limited, your lovely palace appears to be proof of that.”

They bowed again, a little more deeply. “I am overjoyed at your high estimation of my humble nation. You are, of course, free to come and browse our libraries and confer with our historians as you see fit.”

Rose smiled slightly. “Perhaps after our more pressing business has concluded.”

“Of course. But I’ve kept you standing for long enough! Gamzee!” they called, and the strange man that led them here appeared from behind the dais. “Please show our guests to their chambers.” They turned back to Dirk and Rose. “Your, ah, fey friends have already arrived. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty to assign them to rooms adjacent to yours.”

“That will do nicely,” Rose said, though Karkat detected a quick quirk of her eyebrow at the plural on “friends.”

“Thank you again for agreeing to host us,” Dirk said. “Have the other princes arrived?”

“Yes, though I have placed them on the other wing to prevent any… Incidents.”

“That won’t be an issue. But I appreciate the consideration,” Dirk said, though his tone was less sure than his words.

The group began to follow Gamzee out the hall opposite of where they came in, when Prince Felix put up a hand. “I apologize for not saying earlier, but you do not need to bring your retinue with you. There is plenty room in the servant’s quarters.”

Karkat opened his mouth to say there was no way he was going to leave his prince’s side in a foreign land with multiple other rulers here and assassins on their ass, but snapped it shut and looked to Dirk for direction. If Dirk gave the wrong direction, he could deal with it then, but he couldn’t undermine his prince’s authority here of all places.

To his delight, Dirk’s face looked stern. “While I appreciate your consideration for our comfort, our retinue is to remain by our side during our stay. If there are not enough rooms in our wing to account for them, we will adjust our arrangements accordingly.”

Prince Felix’s face was almost a caricature of shock, their eyebrows high and mouth agape. But they recovered quickly with another deep brow. “Forgive my insolent assumption. While I do not believe there are enough rooms ready for all of you, please call upon my staff to make any adjustments you need.”

Dirk nodded his head. “There has been no offense. I am grateful for your hospitality.”

Karkat was worried the prince was going to trap them in more courtesies, but they just bowed again, and walked back to their throne, leaving them free to follow Gamzee out of the room and to their chambers.

All Dirk wanted to do after following Gamzee through the halls was collapse onto his bed. The man had resumed his previous silence, which none of the group broke as they walked for a surprisingly long amount of time through the halls to reach their rooms, which Gamzee indicated whose was whose only through gesture. Did his vow of silence not apply when making proclamations? Was he just fucking with them? Or, perhaps, he was only allowed to speak in front of Prince Felix? It seemed out of character for the prince, but Dirk had limited his communication with them for reasons he was quite firmly reminded of today.

He made a note to track them down before their summit tomorrow to wear something that didn’t feature the Skaian crest, if possible, though since Princes Kurloz and Eridan arrived today, the damage was probably already done. Still. No need to have the reminder front and center during talks that were already too unpredictable for Dirk’s liking, especially with Prospitian prince apparently already suspecting Prince Felix was the key to… Something.

He wanted to confer with Rose again about the meeting ahead, but he could tell she was already reaching her limit from how much she used her aspect the past few days, and they all needed to be at their best tomorrow.

Which meant rest before dinner. Which meant figuring out their rooming arrangements.

Dirk looked between the two doors wearily, but before he could open his mouth for a suggestion, Karkat said, “I’m sleeping with you,” then turned so red, Dirk thought for an anxious moment that his aspect was consuming him whole, but then Dirk grasped the phrasing and went similarly pink. “In your room. On a couch. Or the floor. To protect you from assassins,” Karkat quickly corrected.

Rose let out a polite cough, and Dirk gratefully looked to her for a topic change, though was less grateful for her quick little smirk. “I’ll be staying with Jade, and… Whoever the other fae is,” she said, pointing to the third room Gamzee had managed to relay was the feys’. “If Jade was able to bring more information, I would like the chance to look over it before the summit.”

Dirk nodded, though Rose had already turned to the room, keenly aware she also wanted to peruse it for her own goals, whatever they were, but trusted that she wouldn’t jeopardize the more pressing matters.

“That just leaves you and me to the other one all by ourselves!” Roxy said, giving Sir Strider a friendly punch on the arm.

“Great. It’s been so long since I had some alone time with you. A whole four days,” Strider monotoned.

Roxy snickered. “Right! It’s a new record. At least this time we get some fancy digs rather than dirt and a blanket. Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll even let you sleep on the bed with me rather than on the couch like Karkat has to.”

Strider rolled his eyes.

Dirk saw Karkat give a questioning look between the two of them then a wrinkled nose and sharp shake of the head from Strider , to which Karkat shrugged.

Dirk thought he parsed that.

But Strider caught him focusing on the two of them and shot him a withering look before dragging Roxy in what was intended to be Rose’s room. Sir Strider had never been Dirk’s biggest fan, but Dirk couldn’t think of a time he’d been so openly hostile as he had been the past few days. Karkat shrugged much more apologetically at him, then opened the door to their room, disappeared inside for a few moments, then came to the doorway to wave Dirk in.

The room was about the size as Karkat’s adjoining chamber back home, though it was richly decorated in Skaia’s bronze and blue. Dirk tried not to wonder if it was just his room that was specially decorated, or if it was the same for Kurloz and Eridan. At this point he was almost surprised Gamzee’s face was painted with the colors of the Bilious Plains rather than Skaia’s. But mostly Dirk was focused on the bed. The pillows looked freshly fluffed. The quilts looked warm and inviting. How much had he slept since leaving home? It had only been about a week, but felt like eons of planning late into the night or worrying about assassinations or more attacks on the dig site or – 

“Thank the Muse – there’s a couch!” Karkat said, jolting Dirk back to attention as he dropped their packs next to it.

To call it a couch was being generous – it was meant for reclining, so there was no way for anyone to lay flat. Still, it was better than the floor. It’s not like Dirk could offer to share his bed like Roxy could with Strider.

Right?

It would be highly inappropriate.

Right?

The snap of Karkat’s fingers in front of his face jolted him to attention again, though it took a second for his eyes to focus away from said fingers and to the worried face behind them.

“Take a nap,” the mouth belonging to the face said. “I’ll wake you when it’s almost time for dinner.”

Dirk nodded and compliantly walked over to the bed and began to crawl in when he was  hit in the face with some cloth. 

“Change first! Your riding clothes don’t need to be more wrinkled than they already are.”

Dirk’s limbs felt like lead, but his eyes did, too, and if this was the barrier between him and the bed, he’d overcome it. He began stripping his clothes off, dropping them unceremoniously to the floor, barely registering Karkat’s sharp inhalation and cough, and when Dirk glanced at him, Karkat had turned to face the door.

Ah. Highly inappropriate.

Except Karkat was not his first personal guard, just his first in a few years. Were they so embarrassed to see him undress? Dirk thought he remembered them looking bored, if anything. And knights surely saw each other change all the time, so why…

The thought formed and lingered and morphed then disappeared as Dirk’s head hit the pillow and he immediately fell asleep.

Karkat had a problem.

Well, he had a lot of problems, but he had a Dirk problem.

Okay, he had a lot of Dirk problems, but there was one specifically that had been a problem that he had managed to ignore for quite a while, but he guessed not being alone these past few days to suddenly being very alone in an intimate way they hadn’t really been before has brought it back with a vengeance, and much too obvious to keep ignoring.

Even still, he hesitated forming the words in his head. They weren’t new words. Dave had teased him with these words years ago, soon after they first were transferred to the royal guard. But that was different. It was distant; a fantasy from a storybook. Now it was so much closer, yet just as distant. More pathetic, maybe. He didn’t think Dave would tease him about it again.

What if Dave hated him for it?

Karkat physically shook his head to banish the thought.

Sure, Dave is more upset than Karkat had seen him in… Ever, maybe? But it would blow over. Even when he was weird about the prince at the tournament, he didn’t want it to affect how Karkat felt to the point of making him promise not to dig into it anymore. Even though the reason now was apparent, it still felt like a weird overreaction. A migraine began to pulse behind Karkat’s eyes. It didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point.

The point was Karkat was being an idiot for letting the thought spiral out this far – he might as well still be a new recruit tripping over himself when Prince Diederik walked by.

He still had the same chance of his feelings ever being returned.

There! He acknowledged it! He had a stupid crush on the fucking Prince of Skaia again ! Karkat rubbed his temples as his stress ramped up the migraine. Proof that saying it out loud (well, in his head) didn’t make anything feel better.

Karkat glanced over at Dirk’s sleeping form, the rise and fall of his chest barely perceptible under the quilts. Flashes of bare arms and legs and chest flooded unbidden into Karkat’s mind and he cursed himself for not turning away sooner. Where did he think Dirk was going to change? He had probably been too tired to even notice the partition, much less go behind it. He probably hadn’t even felt the need for modesty in front of his guard. And Karkat had probably seen all the other knights naked by this point, whether by necessity or efficiency or plain laziness. He couldn’t act like a swooning maiden around the person he was sworn to protect!

Karkat grabbed one of the decorative pillows on the couch and pressed it into his face. He wanted to scream, but instead he held his breath for a few seconds, breathed out heavily, then put the pillow down.

Now was not the time to lose focus. They had to get through tonight’s dinner, have one last meeting, hopefully with new intel from the fey, get some actual rest, then deal with the summit in the morning. Karkat had to prepare for the worst case scenario – that half or even the whole Confederation was in on this Cult of Caliborn stuff and would escalate things tomorrow. He closed his eyes and went through the meditation exercise Captain Pyrope had taught him, but he never thought he’d actually need. He summoned an image of a small flame in his mind and fed it all his dread about the summit, the feeling in the back of his mind that there was something strange going on – with Dave or Rose or Roxy or Dirk or the whole fucking lot of them that gave him a headache to even try to unravel, and, most importantly, his stupid fucking crush on the prince, soon to be crowned king, of his fucking country.

For a brief moment, his migraine flared with a vengeance, complete with a flash of bright red in his vision, even with his eyes closed, and then it faded second by second until it was gone entirely.

Karkat sagged back into the couch, his mind clearer than it had been in weeks, maybe months. It was like a muscle he didn’t even know was tensing had finally relaxed.

He would be ready for whatever came next.

Chapter Text

It felt like it had only been minutes since Dirk had laid his head down before Karkat was shaking him awake. He blinked up at the knight, whose hand lingered on his arm before yanking it away like Dirk was hot to the touch. Dirk’s arm felt colder in its absence. “Dinner already?” Dirk asked, a little too groggily for his liking.

“Sooner than I’d like. You wouldn’t wake up when I called your name, so you’ll have to change quickly.” He gestured to an outfit he had laid out on a rack near the fireplace. “I think most of the wrinkles are out of it now. Has anyone told you you’re shit at packing?”

“Usually the servants do it for me,” Dirk monotoned.

Karkat stared at him for a second, then snorted. “Well maybe they can teach you before the next time you try sneaking out of your own castle.”

Dirk got out of bed and headed toward his clothes, and Karkat immediately turned to face the door as though on instinct. “There’s a washbasin behind the partition ,” he said, placing particular emphasis on the last word.

Dirk was glad the man was turned so he couldn’t see the blush he could feel heating his cheeks and ears. “I apologize for my immodesty earlier. I shouldn’t let weariness get in the way of propriety,” he said stiffly as he went behind the partition to wash up and change.

“‘S fine,” Karkat grunted. “You were basically sleepwalking by that point. And I shouldn’t…”

Dirk waited for a moment for Karkat to finish his sentence, but it seemed he was fine to leave it as it was.

Not even two months ago, Dirk might have asked him to finish his thought. Pressured him, maybe, though he didn’t consider it as such at the time. He wanted to know every thought that ran through Karkat’s head, and the knight was usually more than willing to oblige, so biting his tongue for any reason just made Dirk all the more curious. This instance was no exception, and his mind raced unbidden with ways to coax the thought out of him without coercion. He dismissed them. Now was not the time, even if he could figure out just the right words.

Still, the silence felt heavy between them, reminding Dirk of those days just before they left to see Aradia, and the pang in his chest he had managed to avoid for the past week came back with a vengeance. 

Why now? He couldn’t afford the distraction. But trying to run from it almost ran them directly into a trap. He had fooled himself into thinking he could compartmentalize these feelings before, back when he first met Jake. Rose had helped him through the fallout then, at least before disappearing on whatever pet project kept her busy. Maybe after this cult business was done, he could talk to her again. He considered Roxy for a moment, but he couldn’t decide if the fact she had already been making implications about him and Karkat was a benefit or not. Much less if she’d be able to keep it to herself.

For a brief and terrible moment, Dirk wished he could use his aspect on himself.

No. He couldn’t think like that. He had done enough damage with it already – he couldn’t risk the unpredictability of it, even if it were possible.

There was a knock on the door. “Are the two of you almost ready?” Rose called from the other side. “We are verging on being fashionably late.”

“Just about!” Karkat called back as Dirk hurriedly finished tugging his clothes on.

He stepped out from the partition and tried not to flush under Karkat’s appraising eye, which became much harder as he then walked up to adjust Dirk’s clothes.

Dirk wasn’t sure where to look, so opted for straight ahead as his guard straightened the shoulders of his doublet and smoothed out some of the wrinkles remaining on the sleeves. But when Karkat adjusted his collar, a finger brushed his neck and Dirk reflexively looked down just as Karkat was looking up.

They both froze, their faces inches apart. Karkat’s deep red eyes were wide with shock, then softened, and Dirk’s heart skipped a beat as Karkat’s gaze flitted for the briefest of moments to his lips before meeting his eyes, and then to the side, past him. He cleared his throat and moved to take a step back, but Dirk reached up to grab his shoulders without thinking. Karkat looked at him apprehensively, and Dirk opened his mouth to say –

“I know I joked about being fashionably late, but –” Rose began, swinging the door open. “Oh.” She looked between the pair, who were frozen again, Dirk coming up with a thousand excuses for their predicament, but before he could say any of them, Rose said, “I’m sure I can make an excuse for your tardiness.” She looked much too satisfied for Dirk’s liking.

Karkat pushed himself away from Dirk, who let go with no resistance. “That won’t be necessary!” he insisted, but Rose paid him no heed as she closed the door behind her.

Karkat cursed quietly to himself then shot a glare at Dirk. “You’re presentable enough. Let’s go.” He started for the door.

“Karkat, wait,” Dirk said, heart beating hard in his chest. “Maybe we should… talk?”

Karkat stopped and barely turned enough to look at him over his shoulder. “ Your Majesty has a dinner with three foreign princes to get through tonight, and a meeting with them tomorrow where we may or may not find out at least one of them has sent assassins after you. Unless that ’s what you think we should talk about, I suggest we go.”

Dirk felt his heart in his throat. He swallowed hard and took a centering breath. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Karkat closed his eyes for a moment, then opened the door.

They were quickly able to catch up with the others. Karkat avoided looking at Dave, and was instead caught by Rose’s quirked eyebrow. He did his best to smooth his expression and stared straight ahead.

Compartmentalize.

Feed it to the fire.

Stick it in a chest and throw away the key.

Pinch himself and focus on the pain.

Literally anything besides this!

“Karkat!” Dave hissed in his ear.

Karkat almost jumped. “What?” he hissed back.

Dave raised an eyebrow at him. “You zoning out or something? I’ve been trying to let you know your nose is bleeding. Not the best look for dinner.” He proffered a lacy purple handkerchief with the initials RL embroidered on it. “Rose says she has a bunch,” Dave said, sensing Karkat’s hesitation.

“Thanks.” Karkat dabbed at his nose and examined the handkerchief. Just a dribble, thankfully. He wiped some more until Dave gave him the thumbs up, then tried to fold the handkerchief around the blood and shove it into a pocket.

“So are you, like… Okay? Rose seemed pretty ready with the handkerchief. Like she knew you’d be needing it.”

“She’s a Seer. It’s what they do,” Karkat deflected.

Dave frowned. “I’m only letting you off the hook for this because we got other irons in the fire. But off the hook ain’t out of the pond and I’ll be reeling your grumpy fish ass back in the second the forge cools down.”

Karkat rolled his eyes. “Got it.”

“About that , too.” Dave gestured subtly to Dirk.

Karkat sighed. There was no use protesting. Any attempt would just drag this on longer and make Dave more insistent on talking about it. “Got it.”

It was only then Karkat noticed the extra two people. Jade wasn’t a surprise, but there was another woman with her and Rose. She was taller than Jade, but seemed unnaturally thin to the point Karkat wasn’t exactly sure how her ribcage could fit inside her. She gestured a lot as she talked to Rose and Jade, too quiet for Karkat to hear, but her arms moved at odd angles that made Karkat’s stomach roll.

Dave must have seen where Karkat was looking and said, “Yeah, Rose hasn’t said much about her yet. Another fae, obviously, but if she brought any useful information, we probably won’t hear about it until after dinner.”

“Or during. I don’t think I’ve seen her stop talking long enough to draw a breath yet.”

Dave snickered.

It wasn’t much longer until they made it to the great hall to find the other princes already at the table, a slew of covered dishes waiting in front of them. The Confederation princes were sitting on one side with a woman Karkat didn’t recognize next to the Prospitian prince, while Prince Felix was sitting opposite them. The head of the table was empty.

Dirk stopped so suddenly Karkat almost ran into him. “Oh no,” Dirk muttered under his breath. “Fuck.”

Karkat heard Roxy suck air between her teeth as she patted Dirk’s shoulder. “Good luck, cuz!”

Dirk smoothed down the front of his doublet and continued forward, Karkat staying at his side while the rest of the group followed behind.

As they approached, Prince Felix rose from their seat, the Skaian emblem still bold on their chest. “My lord Diederik!” They bowed low. “I was beginning to think you had gotten lost. I was just about to send dear Gamzee after you.” They gestured to a shadowed corner of the room where the odd man was sitting on some cushions idly strumming a lute.

“I apologize for the wait,” Dirk said stiffly.

“And it seems you and the Seer have brought all your… attendants?” Prince Felix leaned dramatically to one side to look behind Dirk. “Well, no matter. We have plenty of seating and food for all of them. If you please.” They motioned to the table, and the group followed.

Karkat had to pick up the pace as Dirk strode quickly to the seat Prince Felix had previously occupied, but the prince intercepted him, stepping between him and the chair. “Ah, my lord! But you should be at the head of the table, should you not?”

“This is your castle on your land, Prince Felix. It is only natural you sit at the head.”

“But surely since the Plains are under Skaia’s protection, it would be improper for me to have a more prominent seat than you. Please, I insist!”

Dirk opened his mouth, his brow furrowed in growing frustration –

“For fuck’s sake, Diederik, take the damn seat!” Prince Eridan interrupted. “No one cares. We just want to eat.”

Kurloz and the woman next to him nodded in unison.

Dirk, though still clearly uncomfortable, obliged, with Prince Felix taking their seat next to him on the opposite side of Prince Eridan.

Leaving nowhere for Karkat to sit and remain next to Dirk.

Karkat started walking with Dirk anyway, planning on forgoing dinner to stay next to him, but Dirk put out a hand to stop him. “Sit with the rest,” he said firmly.

Every bone in Karkat’s body wanted to argue, but he nodded his head and wordlessly grabbed a seat.

Roxy and Dave sat next to the Confederation princes and whoever the woman was, while Rose, the new fae, and Jade sat next to Prince Felix. Karkat sat at the end, across from Dave and next to Jade. He didn’t like being so far away, but he supposed he could deal with it for a single dinner and argue with Dirk about it ahead of the summit in the morning.

Prince Felix beamed. “Fantastic!” He clapped his hands above his head, and servants came out from a side hall that Karkat hadn’t noticed to add additional dinnerware in front of those who were apparently unexpected, and removed the lids from the serving dishes. Karkat swore he recognized some of them from the guards they passed on their way in, but maybe it was just the same mix of bored and annoyed expressions that seemed similar.

Karkat shoveled food onto his plate and started eating robotically. The majority of his attention remained focused at the end of the table. Just in case.

Prince Kurloz and the woman with him ate silently for the most part, though Karkat did find out the woman was named Meulin and served as the prince’s translator, though she seemed to rarely actually look at what he was signing before speaking. Prince Eridan dug into his food as though he was taking his annoyance out on it, occasionally grumbling at whatever the new fae, Aranea, apparently, had to say. Which was, as Karkat had joked, quite a lot.

“Fascinating architecture! I’d say it dates before the destruction of Lotak, even! Not that I’ve had the chance to see the ruins for myself. Or much of anything out of the Forest, for that matter – my appearance apparently makes the humans more uneasy than Jade’s ears, Kanaya’s wings, or even Feferi’s fins !” She laughed as though the thought were ridiculous, even as her arm stretched longer than a human’s reach, and elbows bent backwards to grab a serving of potatoes closer to the head of the table. Karkat must have been staring, because turned and asked, “Oh! Did you want some as well?”

Karkat shook his head, and she smiled and went back to eating and conversing, her many needle-thin teeth visible each time she opened her mouth.

Dave was completely focused on the food – this was probably his first real meal since leaving with Roxy a few weeks ago, and he was devouring it with gusto.

Roxy was doing much the same, though she paused to make eyes at Meulin every time she talked, even if she was mostly translating.

Rose seemed to be enraptured in a conversation with Prince Felix, so much so that both of them rarely remembered to pick at their food, which left Jade on what seemed to be Aranea damage control, getting her back on track any time she started venturing too close to revealing more about the Liminal Forest.

And Dirk… Karkat hesitated to look at the head of the table. When he did, it was at the exact moment Dirk was looking at him. Their eyes locked and it felt like the chatter around them faded to nothing. Until Aranea bumped Karkat with one of her gesticulations. The sound came rushing back and both prince and knight jerked their eyes away.

“Oh! I’m sorry, dear. Karkat Vantas, yes?” Aranea asked while patting the arm she just nudged.

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

She was facing him fully now, examining him as though he were some new discovery. “You’re Prince Diederik’s personal guard, correct? Fascinating. We don’t have the same hierarchy in the Forest, and I can’t imagine a need for a personal guard. Of course, we have our own – Oof!” She looked at Jade, who had just nudged her hard in the ribs. “Right, yes. Secrets and all that.” Aranea turned back to Karkat. “You were part of the royal knights before, yes? And you as well? Dave Strider, was it?” She gestured to Dave, who looked up from his plate for the first time in several minutes, eyes wide.

He swallowed his mouthful of food. “Ye–” He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Karkat and I joined at the same time. About a year ago.”

“Ah!” She turned back to Karkat, and Dave took that as his cue to get back to eating. “So new, and yet chosen for the honor! I suppose you proved your worth at the tournament. Would that I could have gone to watch.”

Karkat shrugged. “I got lucky a couple of times.”

Aranea tsked. “Don’t sell yourself short! You fought valiantly against opponent after opponent, besting not only your brother in arms in a grand finale, but Prince Kurloz as well!”

Karkat glanced at the prince in question who nodded his head with a smile. He touched Meulin’s arm and signed, “Yes. Brother Vantas was a worthy opponent. I couldn’t have asked for a better defeat under the blessed gaze of Aeidein and Musa.”

Karkat scratched his nose self consciously. “Thanks. I wouldn’t have won if I hadn’t taken a stupid risk,” he mumbled.

“But it adds to the romance!” Aranea exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “A knight, desperate to prove himself against an opponent that had quickly dispatched all others he went up against, prevailing through bravery, sustaining injuries that should have ended his participation, if not his life, only to make a miraculous recovery the next day!” 

Karkat involuntarily glanced at Dirk, who was frowning into his food.

“Then win again and again,” Aranea continued, “and thwart a pair of dastardly thieves while he was at it!” She sighed dreamily.

“I didn’t catch them by myself,” Karkat countered. “Or really catch them at all. And my match with Dave ended before a winner was declared.”

Aranea gave Karkat a kind, if patronizing, smile. “Perhaps your humility is part of the romance as well.”

Karkat shrugged. There was clearly no winning with her.

“Either way, it’s no wonder Prince Diederik selected you as his personal guard. Though it seems the others don’t have one? Is that not a tradition in the Plains or the Confederation? My libraries don’t have any details about it.” She looked around, as though one of the guards would be hiding behind a pillar somewhere. Which, now that Karkat thought about it, he wasn’t sure they weren’t .

Prince Eridan snorted. “We just didn’t feel the need to invite ours to dinner.”

Prince Kurloz nodded.

Prince Felix smiled sheepishly. “I’m afraid my knights are spread thin as it is to waste one by my side all day. And it’s not like I’m much of a target compared to the others – especially Prince Diederik.”

The Dersite prince rolled his eyes.

“Ah, yes,” Aranea nodded. “The assassination attempts do raise the stakes for Diederik in particular.”

All of the diners froze.

“The what ?”Prince Eridan asked sharply, glaring daggers at Dirk.

Jade shot Aranea an equally withering look, which seemed to have a physical effect as the woman slunk down in her seat.

Prince Kurloz signed stiffly but quickly, “We were not informed of any potential assassins before arriving. That seems a grievous gap in knowledge.”

“No wonder you brought everyone under the fucking sun with you!” Prince Eridan abruptly stood from his seat, slamming one hand on the table and waving a fork menacingly at Dirk with the other. “What – were you hoping to lure them here and have them off us while your fae freaks and guard dogs kept you safe?”

A low, warning rumble emanated from Jade’s throat. 

Karkat stood and began swiftly walking to Dirk’s side, but Dirk raised a hand and he stopped short. “Of course not. They were one of the topics I wanted to discuss at the summit. I had no reason to believe they would go after either of you.”

That didn’t seem to comfort the prince any. “Why the hell wouldn’t –” 

“Because he suspected it might have been one of us who sent them.” Prince Kurloz interrupted, Meulin’s soft voice still managing to cut through the thickening air.

“If they were my assassins, Diederik, you’d fuckin’ know it,” Prince Eridan snarled.

“They’re from your country!” Jade snarled right back, her ears almost flat against her head.

Prince Eridan scoffed. “ My country? My country is the same as his !” He jabbed his fork at Prince Kurloz. “That was the whole point of the Confederation, right? To merge us as one and get us to play nice with each other? Meanwhile you ,” the fork swung back to Dirk, “swooped in to claim the prize and somehow still managed to maintain the high ground!”

Karkat started forward again, but Dirk shot him a look, then focused back on Eridan. His face was stern, but he was otherwise seemingly unphased. “A country isn’t a prize to be won, Eridan, and you know as well as I that I didn’t ask for this.”

“The Bilious Plains was offered to –” Prince Felix began, but it was his turn to be at the end of the fork.

“ You shut your fuckin’ mouth. If I have to hear one more word about how indebted you are to Diederik and Skaia, I’ll –”

“You’ll what ? Prod him with your fork?” Jade let out a mocking laugh. “You nobles have sent your citizens to fight over this swamp for centuries, but now you’ll join the fray armed with dinnerware?”

Prince Eridan looked ready to leap over the table, but Kurloz grabbed the back of his tunic. “The barbs do not serve your cause, Sister.” Meulin’s voice took on a low, almost threatening tone Karkat didn’t think she had been capable of. “The Confederation came to exchange information in good faith. Can you swear to the Muse that you came for the same?”

The tension in the room felt like the heavy air right before a storm rolled in.

“We came because the presence of underlings are a threat to us all,” Rose said, “and our search for information was intercepted by assassins. The Thieves of Flight, to be specific.”

Prince Eridan laughed. “ Those idiots? All they do is steal a trinket here or there and fuel the black market. Cause a little chaos at most .”

“Eridan exaggerates,” Kurloz said, “Serket and Peixes have blood on their hands, but only of those who interrupt their thefts. They have not been known to be killers for hire.”

“Maybe they’ve never had a powerful enough benefactor.” The Confederate princes turned to Roxy.

Prince Eridan narrowed his eyes. “And how would you know anything about that?”

Roxy shrugged. “I only held them captive and interrogated them for over a month until said benefactor sent underlings after us to break them out.”

Prince Eridan turned to Dirk. “And you trust this criminal?”

“Hey!” Roxy protested.

“I saw the state she was in after surviving basilisks and an ogre,” Dirk said flatly. “Just as I saw the state the Thieves left the Lotak excavation site after they attacked it the night I was supposed to arrive. Unless you think everyone who survived are lying as well?”

The Dersite prince pouted, but his counterpart spoke up, “Is that all you know of the benefactor? That they’re powerful enough to command the underlings?”

“Oh!” Aranea sat back up. “They’re trying to bring back the Cult of Caliborn!”

“At least that’s what we suspect,” Dirk added.

Aradia shook her head. “No, I’m sure of it!”

Rose looked surprised. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier? How can you be sure?”

Aranea looked a little sheepish. “Well, you see, when I heard about the Thieves, and that one seemed to share ancestry with me, I may have… Sought them out?”

“You what ?” Jade barked.

“Ha! Betrayal in your own group, Diederik? What a fuckin’ mess,” Prince Eridan said smugly.

“I didn’t betray anyone! I just, well, it sounded so exciting! And this was before I knew about any sort of assassination attempt! Just after they broke out of Roxy’s imprisonment. I was able to find Vriska Serket – I just wanted to get stories of her exploits first hand! She seemed quite happy to do so – I really learned a lot! But she also ended up bragging about her latest contract. One last heist, as she put it – absolutely riveting! She mentioned that her benefactor was trying to start up some sort of cult, which she had no interest in, but I was able to press her for details, and based on what she was saying, I think this may be someone who is, or is at least claiming to be, the Destroyer of–”

Karkat felt as though the dense air twisted and then suddenly released, and along with it, apparently, Prince Eridan’s temper.

He threw the fork he was still holding and managed to hit Aranea at the base of her neck. It didn’t pierce her skin, but it was enough to make her grasp at her throat as she let out gasping coughs. 

Eridan whirled on Dirk. “Are you really buying this bullshit? You’re telling me one of the Thieves just happens to be related to one of your fey freaks and just happens to vomit up all this incredibly important info about her super secret job from her big bad boss and she didn’t decide to say anything until now ?”

But Karkat was barely paying attention to him. He and the rest of the table were much more focused on Jade, who was growling, teeth bared, ears back, and was poised to pounce on the prince, teeth first. “You dare attack one of the Mother’s children? You dare attack one of the Forest?” 

The ground seemed to rumble beneath them. Several plates lifted on their own and smashed into the ground with enough force to spray splinters of wood in the air.

Prince Eridan sneered. “What? I just ‘prodded her with my fork’. Or are you freaks weak enough to be threatened by dinnerware now?”

Jade let out a vicious, unnatural snarl, various cutlery raising in the air and pointing at Prince Eridan. The prince looked like he was about to let out another snarky remark, but Jade leapt across the table at him, and Karkat saw him reach down his leg where he assumed a dagger was hidden.

But before Jade could land or the prince could unsheathe his weapon, everything stopped.

Just.

Stopped.

Jade hung in mid-air.

Prince Eridan kept his hand on his blade and his eyes on Jade.

Prince Kurloz was in the process of standing up, his chair tipped back behind him, but unable to fall.

Everything stopped.

“How long can you hold it?” Dirk asked.

Karkat whipped his head to him, then to whom he was speaking to – Dave. Dave whose irises were replaced with bright red gears ticking around his pupils. “I don’t know. Not long. Jade is… A lot.” He clutched the table in front of him with white knuckles. “Whatever you need to do to fix this, hurry.”

Dirk nodded. “Rose, any ideas?”

Rose rubbed at her temples, but shook her head. “Not unless my dear cousin can rewind time, rather than just stop it.”

“It’s hard enough to keep it stopped!” Dave snapped.

“ Cousin? What the fuck is going on?” Karkat demanded.

Everyone stopped and looked at him. “Whoopsie-doodle,” Roxy said. “Forgot to account for Karkat?”

Dave shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe. Either he slipped through the cracks or my subconscious decided we’d need his help. Does it fucking matter?”

“Wait – You’re an aspect user? I thought Dirk –  Rose called you –” Karkat asked, a mix of shock and hurt.

“Do you want me to find another way to express that now is not the fucking time for this? We’ll talk later, Kat!”

“Fine! What do we do?”

Rose’s eyes were glowing as she looked around the room, but she looked as strained as Dave did. “There’s something I’m not accounting for. I can’t –” She gripped her head and the light faded. She slumped in her chair.

“Can’t we just, I don’t know, put them in separate rooms?” Karkat asked.

“Too slow,” Dave groaned.

“We’ll just drag ‘em to opposite sides of the room, then. Not elegant or subtle, but better than Prince Grumpy Pants getting his throat ripped out,” Roxy said with a shrug.

Dirk rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Fine. We’ll have to do the same if we want a chance to avoid suspicion. They’ll probably think it was Jade. Rose, do you think you can get Jade to play along?”

“I can try,” Rose mumbled. “Maybe she’ll even think she did it on accident, since she’ll be the only one left at the table.”

“Shouldn’t we move her, too? You know, farther away from ‘Prince Grumpy Pants’?” Karkat asked.

“Can’t. Space. ‘Swhy it’s so hard. Do whatever just sooner than later pretty fucking please?” Dave asked, voice straining.

They got to work dragging the other dinner guests and their chairs back to the walls in positions they hoped were close enough to how they were before that it wouldn’t seem more suspicious than, well, suddenly being several yards from the table.

They helped Rose and Dave to their places, and Rose managed to instruct them on how each of them were positioned, but both she and Dave were running on fumes.

Finally, Dirk gave the go ahead, and chaos erupted around them again.

Prince Eridan whipped out his knife, then dropped it to his side as he took in his surroundings. “The fuck?”

Jade dropped hard to the stone floor, then, taking in the situation, flicked her hand, flipping the table over so quickly the plates of food stayed on and smashed beneath its weight. She glared at Prince Eridan a final time, then stormed out of the hall.

“It seems Jade let things get a little out of hand,” Rose commented weakly.

“This was Jade’s doing?” Aranea asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever – Ow!” 

Rose had taken up Aranea duty and pinched her arm. “I don’t believe this is the appropriate time for your analysis of aspect use.”

“Ah,” Aranea said sheepishly. “My apologies.”

Everyone was gathering themselves, standing and taking in the situation warily, if for different reasons.

“I, ah, I believe that concludes our dinner,” Prince Felix said, chuckling nervously. “I hope everyone had their fill. I do have a wonderful breakfast planned, though we might have to relocate, and some appetizers for the summit that I think –”

“There’s no fucking summit,” Prince Eridan spat. “And you!” He whirled on Dirk. “You better –”

Prince Kurloz placed a hand on his shoulder, and signed to him when he turned around to look. This, Meulin didn’t translate.

Prince Eridan covered his face with his hands and took a few deep breaths. “Fine! You’re right!” He turned back to Dirk. “You better be fucking estatic that Kurloz has more patience than me.”

“So you’ll stay?” Dirk asked.

Prince Eridan laughed bitterly. “Fat fucking chance. We’re leaving first thing in the morning and that’s only because we don’t want to try trudging through this swamp at night.” His face hardened again, and for the first time, Karkat thought he looked like a real threat rather than just a spoiled prince throwing a tantrum. “You think long and hard about how you’re going to fix this, Diederik. Assuming you’re not offed before you can,” he sneered.

With that, Prince Eridan stomped out of the hall with Prince Kurloz and Meulin following close behind.

“Yes, I suppose it’s best that we all retire,” Prince Felix said, a strained smile frozen on their face.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble, Felix,” Dirk said wearily. “I’ll make sure to compensate you for damages.”

“No need, no need!” the prince quickly reassured. “Though, ah, perhaps it is best that your… acquaintances do not linger?”

Dirk nodded. “We’ll be leaving in the morning as well.”

“Apologies, my lord, I don’t mean to rush you off, just –” 

“I have things to attend to back in Skaia. We would be leaving regardless.”

Prince Felix bowed low. “Of course, my lord. I will inform the stablehands to make sure your horses are ready after breakfast.” They looked apprehensive. “You will, of course, be staying for breakfast?”

Karkat could see the tightness around Dirk’s eyes. “Yes, of course.”

The prince clapped their hands together. “Splendid! It’s the least I could offer to make up for this... Unpleasantness. But I am keeping you from your rest. Please call on my servants should you need anything.” With that, they bowed again and left, Gamzee – whom Karkat had entirely forgotten about – shambling out from his corner and following behind.

After Karkat was sure they were out of earshot, he rounded on the rest of the group. “You assholes have a lot of explaining to do.”

Chapter Text

Karkat paced across the room.

Roxy and Aranea had went to check on Jade, which left Dirk and Rose sitting awkwardly together on Karkat’s couch, while Dave stood leaning against the wall next to it, arms tight across his chest. Karkat thought his leaning wasn’t just to turn away from the couch – he and Rose still looked exhausted from the clusterfuck that was dinner. Still, it was odd to see Rose this uncomfortable, especially at the prospect of explaining things. It set Karkat even more on edge.

“Karkat, dear, perhaps you’d feel better if you sat down?” Rose suggested, gesturing to the bed.

Karkat stopped, a scathing retort on the tip of his tongue, but he sighed, and sat down. “ Now will you explain all this shit to me?”

Rose chewed her lower lip. “You must understand that it’s difficult to figure out where to start. Perhaps if you asked a specific question?”

Karkat narrowed his eyes. “That sounds like an easy way to use ‘well you didn’t ask!’ as a good excuse the next time I find out you’re hiding shit from me.”

Rose looked pained. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just… Where do you start divulging over a decade’s worth of family secrets? At our births? What moments are important for an explanation, and what are just important as my own life experiences? Perhaps I could start with –”

“I’m Dirk’s brother,” Dave interrupted.

Rose sighed, while Dirk had the resigned face of a man scheduled for execution.

Karkat’s jaw dropped as he looked between Dirk and Dave.

It made sense.

Well, it was the only thing that made sense after Rose called him “cousin” before they realized Karkat wasn’t caught by Dave stopping time – which was another thing Karkat can’t believe he wasn’t told, but definitely lower on his priority list than “his best friend for a decade is the heretofore unknown lost prince of Skaia”.

Said reveal also explained Dave’s weirdness around Dirk, making Karkat promise to stop looking into him. How similar he looked to Roxy. How quickly he was brought into the fold when first deciding to deal with the Thieves. Why the blank parts of that book didn’t fill in. Maybe even why he was so upset at John being named heir apparent?

And what about what Dirk had told him happened to his brother?

“Then why aren’t you…? We were just kids when we met at the Sanctuary, and you had already been there for years. Dirk made it sound like –”

Dave raised his eyebrows. “Dirk made it sound like what ? What exactly did he tell you?”

Dirk was shrinking in on himself, his hands gripping his knees.

Karkat swallowed. He wasn’t sure how Dave would take this. He wasn’t sure he should even say it. Even though Dave was involved, it was still something private between him and Dirk. “He – He said he messed up. That there was an accident, and you – Well, he never said you died , but I assumed –”

“There was an ‘accident’ because Dirk ‘messed up,’” Dave repeated bitterly. “A good enough story when you can’t tell the whole truth. But we can now, so why don’t you, Dirk?”

Dirk flinched like he’d been hit.

Karkat’s stomach twisted seeing him like this. “I don’t have to know the details; it’s not my business.”

“No, Dave’s right,” Dirk said. “I told you that when I was eleven, there was an accident that was my fault, and I lost my little brother.”

Karkat nodded.

“You also now know Dave can use the time aspect.” 

Karkat looked at Dave, who just shrugged dismissively.

“Well,” Dirk continued, “I can use an aspect, too. Heart. Ironic, I know,” he chuckled hollowly. “I was still getting used to it, excited to have it at all, really. I couldn’t do much, but what I could do was concentrate and visually see the bonds people shared. How their ‘hearts’ connected, I guess.” 

There was a thump as Dave lolled his head back against the wall and stared blankly at the ceiling. 

Dirk glanced at him, then back down at the floor and continued, “We were playing on the castle grounds. Well, Dave was playing, and I was supposed to watch him. Instead, I was playing around with my abilities. I could see a guard and a maid had a bond between them, and the one between the gardener and his son. And for the first time, I realized I could see my own. And I could see Dave’s.” Dirk took a steadying breath. “I was looking at Dave’s – seeing two threads go up to where I knew our parents were, over to the library that Rose frequented, and out farther in the woods to Roxy. And one back to me. I was studying them, fascinated, when out the corner of my eye I saw Dave trip. If I had been paying attention, I would have known the fall wouldn’t hurt, at most he’d come away with a skinned knee. But I panicked, and I reached out and the motion…” Dirk was trembling.

Rose gently pulled one of his hands from his knee and into hers, which he gripped just as tight, like it was the only thing holding him up. “He severed Dave’s bonds. All of them. Suddenly my little cousin went from treasured family to an acquaintance. One I liked to be around; like a servant’s well behaved child. But I could still feel the lack of something that was supposed to be there. It was.. disorienting. And it was the same for Dave. A seven year old with no friends, no familial connection, just a handful of older kids and adults he knew he could trust on some level, but never felt truly comfortable around.”

Dave’s face was tight with pain or anger – Karkat couldn’t tell.

“But not for Dirk,” Rose continued. “While the heart aspect isn’t widely studied, it seems such breaks can’t affect the user. Dirk was the only one remaining who kept all his feelings for Dave as a loved one. As a little brother.”

Karkat was glad he was sitting down. This was so much to take in. His chest felt tight as he looked at Dirk, who now more resembled a lost boy than the prince of a kingdom. He didn’t know what to say. What could you say after hearing that? 

Then Karkat turned to Dave, who was looking between him and Dirk, his expression growing sour. “Right. Give all your sympathy to Dirk who has to deal with the pain of loving me while I lost everything !” he scoffed. “I thought you would be different, Kat. The rest of these assholes are magically incapable of caring about me more than Dirk, but what’s your excuse?”

“Dave, that’s not –!” Karkat began.

“No, you know what? Fuck this. I’m going for a walk while you and Rose coddle the fucking prince ,” he spat, slamming the door behind him as he left.

Karkat was torn. 

He looked back at Dirk, who looked like he was about to throw up. Rose pulled him down closer to her to stroke his hair, though her eyes remained fixed worriedly on the door. Karkat desperately wanted to take her place, be the one to comfort Dirk, but that was not the role for a guard, and Karkat needed to be there for his friend. “Dirk, I –”

“Go. Please,” Dirk said, his words muffled against Rose’s shoulder.

Karkat didn’t need to be told twice. He swung open the door and bolted down the hallway after Dave.

Dirk felt pathetic. Was pathetic. But it had been over a decade since he had explained what happened in detail, and even that he had to rely on Rose to finish. He couldn’t own up to it, even now.

“Whatever you’re thinking about yourself is bullshit, cousin,” Rose murmured as she continued to stroke his hair.

Dirk pulled himself free. “It’s not. Dave’s right. I don’t deserve to be coddled like this when I ripped everything from him. His family. His future.”

“You were a child, Dirk.”

“Was I a child when I stole his best friend as well? All so I could have some connection by proxy, as though getting to know him through Karkat could fix what I had done,” he said bitterly.

“Roxy and I have also tried connecting with him again. You’re not alone in that,” Rose assured. “Sometimes I think Roxy has tricked herself into believing she’s done it, but you saw her at the cabin, when Dave got tired of our meetings and left. We can still feel that unsettling hollowness when we’re around him. But we don’t have your same desperation. I can’t fathom looking at you, loving you, while you were ‘magically incapable’ of feeling the same for me.” Her voice broke. She was staring at the floor, her hair veiling her face, but not enough to prevent Dirk seeing her try to blink away the tears that fell freely down her face.

He wrapped her in a tight hug, which she returned gratefully. “I’m sorry. It always seemed so easy for the two of you. You both left, and – I should have known. I was so wrapped up in my own head.”

Rose sniffled. “None of us handled it well. Especially so soon after our moms died, and then your parents left, and –” She took a shaky breath. “I thought I could fix everything.” She pulled out of Dirk’s arms and looked him in the eyes, guilt etched on her face. “I never told you. I didn’t want to get your hopes up and come home empty handed, but I shouldn’t have just left as I did.” Rose wiped away some tears with the heel of her palm. “I was trying to find a way to heal the bonds. But there was nothing in the libraries. Nothing from the scholars, though I could only ask in vague terms to not encourage any rumors. The fae were my last hope and…” She looked away and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Dirk. I keep hoping that it just hasn’t happened enough to be properly studied, and there’s no ethical way to experiment to find a solution, but the fae have ancient knowledge, and even they don’t know of a way to fix this.”

Dirk didn’t realize it was possible to be so filled with gratitude and love for his cousin, and simultaneously so absolutely crushed. For years, Rose had put up with his friendly jabs about her scheming, while all this time she was working to fix his mistake. While he just, what? Sat around and moped? Stole Dave’s best friend out from under him in a selfish flight of fancy?

“You’re doing it again,” Rose said with a wobbly smile. “You’re beating yourself up. Any mistakes that you have made won’t be fixed by your self-flagellation. Roxy and I still care for you, Dirk. And so does Karkat. Quite deeply, if what I unintentionally interrupted earlier tonight is any indication,” she teased.

Dirk flushed. “That’s not – It wasn’t – It’s not appropriate.”

“And when have you cared about what’s appropriate for your station? You do your duty, but you bend and twist the rules.”

Dirk frowned. “This is different. What if – I could be misreading things. I could be pressuring him. Muse above, Karkat was right. We have too many things to worry about especially with how dinner went, for me to be trying to find a loophole in this power imbalance even if…” Dirk sighed.

Rose patted his cheek. “You can’t put your feelings on hold forever, dear cousin, even if you think you can. Neither can you deny Karkat of his agency.”

Dirk shrugged noncommittedly.

“I’ll leave you to gather your thoughts before he returns. I’ve left Roxy alone with an angry Jade and a filterless Aranea for long enough as it is.” She kissed his forehead, made one last futile effort to wipe away signs of her tears, and left him alone.

Karkat found Dave on a window seat in an alcove a little way down the hall, his forehead pressed against the glass. He didn’t acknowledge Karkat as he approached and leaned against the wall next to him.

“I’m sorry,” Karkat said.

“For what , exactly?” Dave snapped.

“For not…” Karkat struggled with how to phrase it. “Being there for you. In there. Or really much at all since the tournament.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“It kind of is. I could have made more of an effort to see you. Ate more meals in the mess hall. Something . And then I just dropped the shit about Dirk and John on you without even considering –”

“You couldn’t have known, Kat,” Dave said wearily. “It’s just… so like him !” He tried to subtly wipe his eyes, and Karkat pretended not to notice. “I don’t even know why I joined the royal guard in the first place,” he mumbled.

Karkat’s heart sank. He had been so excited to join the second he could. He just assumed… “Was it because of m–”

Dave cracked a smile. “No, you self-absorbed asshole. I just… I dunno. Maybe I thought seeing him again would… Trigger something? It had been so long that maybe…” He bonked his head against the glass. “Stupid. Instead I had this… this stranger look at me like I was broken. Or a ghost. Maybe that’s what I am.”

“Dave, you’re not –”

“You know they held a funeral for me?” Dave asked as though Karkat hadn’t spoken. “The king and queen. My ‘parents.’ No one out of the castle grounds knew I existed, but they still gathered everyone who did know together and wept over a funeral pyre. It wasn’t long after that they sent me away.” He closed his eyes and Karkat saw a few more tears drip down his face. “I think they hated me,” he murmured. “I don’t know if they can. I can’t hate them – any of them. I’ve tried , but… I think that counts as a connection or ‘bond’ or whatever, too. I just don’t know why my parents would have rather pretended I was dead if they didn’t.”

“That’s fucked,” was all Karkat could say.

Dave hummed his agreement, then after a moment, “I did get close once, though. Hating them, well, hating Dirk ,” he admitted.

“Yeah?” Karkat prompted, though he wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know.

“Not when I found out he was stalking me.”

Wait, what?

“Not when he got fixated on you and enabled your stubborn ass to risk your life in the tournament,” Dave continued. “Not even when I couldn’t see you after you were attacked by the imps because he didn’t fucking consider anyone but him was important enough to get to see you after you almost got yourself killed again . It pissed me off, sure. Like he was trying to cut me off from the one person who always made me feel tethered. Like I wasn’t destined to drift through life unable to connect to anyone.”

“Dave…”

Dave didn’t budge, his forehead still pressed to the window. “It was when you told me what he did to John. Because he knows. There’s no way he doesn’t know about me and John – he’s the closest thing Dirk has to a friend, and look what he…” He took a shuddering breath. “Rose and Roxy managed to escape being in line for the throne, and Dirk’s attempts will eventually get him killed. And then it will be John. And then I’ll have to choose if I want to stay with him more than I want to escape what I thought I had already been set free of – the one good thing that came out of what Dirk did to me. But even then, I thought, ‘At least I’d still have Karkat.’ After I cooled off, at least.”

Karkat remembered how Dave’s attitude seemed to change in an instant and how he almost tripped over things strewn about that weren’t a second before.

“But back there? With Rose and Dirk? You–” Dave’s voice broke. “The way you looked at him …” He cleared his throat. “I don’t wanna lose you, too, Kat.”

“Dave, that’s not –” Karkat grabbed Dave by the shoulders and turned him enough to look at him. “I’m not going anywhere. When we get back, I’ll prove it – I’ll do better, I’ll –” Resign? Would he?

Dave was more important. Than anything. Including Dirk. Dave meant everything to him – had been with him through thick and thin for years. It felt like they had always known each other, and finding out this big secret didn’t change that.

And Dirk… 

Dirk meant…

Fuck.

Karkat gripped at his pounding head.

The first thing Karkat saw when he stood up and opened his eyes was a look of fear on his majesty’s face. Fear for him.

Dave, smiling. “Hey, moral support is important, and I am here to support all your testy, testy morals.”

The solid thunk of his knees hitting the stone floor.

Dave’s worried voice, distant. Muted.

Karkat’s hand going to his boot, then his dagger flying, striking the thief so dangerously close to his prince. 

Karkat holding Dave close on his last night in the barracks, relaxing more with the presence next to him. This was just another sense he wanted to cling onto as long as he could. With Dave’s heartbeat next to his, his breath in his ear, he was finally able to drift to sleep.

A hand on his shoulder, shaking him. His ears ringing.

Focus. He had to focus.

He opened eyes he didn’t realize were closed and tried blinking blurry shapes into solid forms.

Prince Diederik, the window of his office haloing him in the rising morning sun. Karkat’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed a thin red scar still on his cheek where Karkat’s dagger had sliced him.

Dave hugged him tight. Like he had been worried he’d never get the chance to again. “You’re one lucky motherfucker, to come out with just a couple scratches.”

They started to come into focus but there was something wrong with how it all looked. No. How Dave looked.

A bright red outline, all jagged edges, only softening as it led toward the hands on his shoulders.

 Dave looking more serious than Karkat had seen him, “This is a friend favor I’m calling in. Drop this. Drop whatever your obsession with the prince is.”

Karkat looked into Dave’s eyes, deep red to bright.

“I’ll drop it,” he said. “Promise.”

Breathe. Focus.

Karkat squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, the outline was gone.

A distant clack of a door opening and closing. Twice.

Then all the senses returned at once.

“... back to your room. Then I’ll go find a physician. They’ve got to have one here, right?”

Karkat stood up, leaning on the wall for support. “‘M fine.”

Dave stared at him, mouth agape. “The fuck you are! You collapsed! Your nose is bleeding again ! And your eyes – What’s going on, Karkat?”

Karkat dug the handkerchief back out of his pocket and dabbed at his nose. It came away almost soaked, but his sleeve took care of what was left. He stood up straighter and let go of the wall. He wobbled for a second, but was soon able to maintain his balance. “Dunno.”

“What do you mean you don’t –”

“I mean I don’t know!” Karkat snapped.

Dave glared at him.

“Sorry,” Karkat said, wearily. “It’s just been happening lately. Not usually this bad. I think Rose knows something about it, but we have bigger shit to worry about right now, so I haven’t asked.”

Dave kept glaring. “All these bullshit secrets stop now. I can’t have you hiding that you’re collapsing with blood gushing out of your nose until you’re suddenly bedridden because you’re too fucking stubborn to go to a physician.”

Karkat waved him off. “Fine. I’ll give you my entire medical history in the morning.” His head felt like it was in a vise grip. “But I guess going back to my room to lay down would be good,” he admitted.

Back to his room with Dirk. Did he tell the truth and avoid any awkward conversations for the night, or did he fail to mention he blacked out for a second to keep Dirk from worrying?

“I’m still going to go look for a physician.” Dave was looking him up and down as though to spot any other health issues Karkat had been hiding. “Can you make it back on your own?”

Karkat took a few steps. No wobbling. “Yeah, I got it.”

Dave frowned, but the steps seemed to pass his scrutiny. “Fine. But I’ll be back to check on you even if I can’t find anyone who can look you over.”

“Fine,” Karkat echoed, then turned and headed back to his room.

Dirk stood and stretched. He went to the washbasin and splashed some cool water on his face, trying to focus on the sensation rather than his racing thoughts.

Rose was right. When Karkat came back – No, in the morning, after they both had a good night’s rest. Time to clear their heads. Then he would insist on talking to him. If he needed more time, Dirk would give it. If it was a flat rejection, he would take it, and offer to release him from his service once again. But he wouldn’t let himself dwell on this until his brain spiraled it out of control.

This resolution only increased his nerves, and he began pacing, but he only managed a few steps when he heard a creaking from the rafters. Before he could turn to look, something fell heavy on his back, and he was pinned to the floor.

“Fuckin’ finally!” said a familiar voice. “I wouldn’t’a guessed the Skaian royalty was a bunch of crybabies. I thought you’d never stop jerkin’ it over your own sob stories.”

“Who–?” Dirk stopped as the cold steel of a blade pressed against his throat.

“Stupid, too,” the voice laughed. “I’m the motherfuckin’ Thief of Life and it’s time I fulfill our contract.”

Chapter Text

As Karkat got closer to the room he shared with Dirk, he heard a thump. Then a few more. A crash – Karkat started running – A cry of pain – He was almost there – A scream.

It took every bit of will power Karkat had not to stop cold in his tracks. He had never heard a scream like that. Like a death cry but… Drawn out. Someone was being tortured – A woman. Not one he recognized, though he wasn’t confident he could recognize any voice pushed to that brink. And if whoever it was was screaming like that, what could the assailer have done to Dirk ? Karkat ran faster, almost crashing into the wall in his haste.

He skidded to a stop in front of their room, quickly retrieving the dagger he kept in his boot, and throwing open the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for the scene inside.

“Dirk!”

It was lucky for Dirk that the thief was overconfident. Knocking her off of his back earned him a gash at the base of his neck, but it wasn’t enough to even make him flinch. Still, he was at a disadvantage. Peixes’s guard was now up, blade still in hand, while Dirk lacked any sort of weapon. He kept an eye on the now more cautious thief as he ran the contents of the room in his head. Washbasin? No. Fireplace? He wasn’t sure where they kept the tools. Their packs – Karkat’s sword!

Dirk feinted to the right, like he was going to duck behind the bed for cover, then pivoted hard to the floor to grab his guard’s sword. He barely managed to swing it up in time to block the woman’s sai coming down on him, but his blade was caught between the prongs. She twisted her weapon violently, and it took all of his strength to keep it in his grip. Dirk desperately kicked out and managed to slam his shin into her thigh, which gave him enough time to regain control of his sword and clamber up off the ground.

Peixes stayed on the offence, stabbing and dodging and stabbing again. Dirk couldn’t avoid all of them, especially while trying to make sure his blade didn’t get caught in a parry again. All he could do was block with his arms, blood streaming steadily from repeated punctures.

He couldn’t keep this up. He had to think fast.

The next time she raised a sai, he leaned into it, earning another gash along his chest, but managed to shove his knee deep into her gut and could hear her breath forced from her lungs.

She collapsed, clutching her middle in pain, but before Dirk could move to pin her down and figure out a way to secure her, she raised her other hand, a faint green light beginning to emanate from her eyes, and twisted it into a fist.

Dirk’s limbs went slack. His sword clattered to the floor, and he soon followed it, barely managing to keep himself up on his hands and knees. He could feel his heart beat hard in his chest, but each beat was a little slower than the last. A little weaker. Was this what dying felt like?

No.

He couldn’t –

It couldn’t end like this!

Peixes seemed to be healed, at least partially. She winced as she stood up, sai in one hand, the other draining his vitality, her eyes glowing brighter and the tendril-like shape of her aspect becoming more defined the weaker Dirk felt. Each step she took closer was stronger than the last, until she stood over him, sneering, her blade raised.

Dirk couldn’t die! Not now! Not with so much at stake! Not with so much he still needed to do!

In his desperation, he mirrored Peixes’s gesture – reach out, grab, twist.

She stumbled back, but only for a moment, her sneer turned into a wicked grin. “Still have some tricks up your sleeve? At least you’re makin’ it a little less boring.”

She rushed forward again, but Dirk was more confident this time – he had done something , even if he wasn’t sure what – it had nothing to do with her connection to others. It was something deeper. Something core to her being.

Dirk braced himself and reached out again, feeling for the essence made tangible with his power. He wasn’t sure how he knew when he found it, he just knew . His fist closed around it and he pulled.

And he saw it – her pulsing deep red core. Organic, yet… not. As he closed his fist tighter, a crack formed like it was glass. Then another. And another. The fractals branching around the core like veins filled with passions and losses and lovers and enemies.

It was beautiful.

Horrifying.

All he could do is watch as he mindlessly gripped harder and the branches almost reached around to touch and –

“Dirk!”

Something hit him hard in the side, crashing him into the bed, and releasing the thief from his grip. His awareness came back to him just in time to hear her hoarse scream die on the air as she collapsed limply to the ground.

Karkat was on top of him, pinning him to the bed, his brows pinched together in a mix of concern and fear. “What the fuck were you doing?” he asked, and Dirk realized his guard was afraid of him .

Dirk swallowed hard, unable to look the man in the eye. “I –”

Out the corner of his eye, Dirk caught a shadow coming toward them fast, then the glint of steel.

Dirk reflexively grabbed onto Karkat tight, then flipped their bodies. He cried out in pain as the knife stabbed deep into his shoulder then ripped away. Karkat shouted and yanked them both out of the way of the next strike and onto the floor, Dirk, woozy from pain and blood loss, barely able to turn himself around much less remember where he dropped Karkat’s sword, when –

“Put me down you mongrel!”

The thieves were floating in the air. Serket waved her bloody knife like she could cut through what was holding her, while Peixes hung like a ragdoll, the shallow rise and fall of her chest the only sign she was still alive.

Jade was in the room, a snarl on her face as she kept the thieves in the air with one raised hand. Roxy flanked her, daggers out and ready, while Aranea stood sheepishly in the doorway.

“You’ve been trespassing in our Forest,” Jade growled.

The thief of light laughed mockingly. “Aw, did that sad excuse for a Serket finally tell mommy on us?”

Jade narrowed her eyes. “It won’t be just the Mother you’ll be answering to.” She held her other hand out behind her. “Aranea, we’re leaving,” she barked, never taking her eyes off the thieves.

Dirk could barely process what was happening. “Leaving? No, we – we need to question them! Figure out who they –”

“This is Forest business, Prince of Skaia,” Jade said, her voice low. “This is the favor you owe us. Or do you plan on going back on your word?”

“Favor?” Karkat asked.

Dirk could barely focus. This was – this was important. He needed to know – But… He looked at Karkat. “No. No, I keep my promises, Ambassador of the Witch’s Grove.”

Jade grinned wide, her sharp teeth shining in the low light. “Then it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

The air tightened around them, like it was physically squeezing them down, then in a blink, it released with a snap, and the four of them were gone.

Roxy whistled low. “Jade sure knows how to make an exit.” Then she jumped to attention and rushed to Dirk’s side. “Fuck! Dirk! Are you okay?”

Karkat looked almost as dazed as Dirk felt, but his eyes lit up with panic as he joined Roxy in examining him. 

Roxy sharply inhaled through her teeth. “Shit on a stick, Dirk – did they mistake you for a pin cushion?”

Dirk chuckled, then hissed in pain and clutched at his shoulder reflexively. “It’s nothing,” he said to the two Roxys that now kneeled hazily before him.

Karkat’s face twisted in frustration, and he opened his mouth, clearly about to lay into him, when –

“By the Muse !”

The three looked to the door in unison. Prince Felix dashed into the room followed by very annoyed looking Rose and Dave.

This was, maybe not the last person Dirk wanted to see, but certainly toward the bottom of the list.

“I tried to find a physician, but –” Dave began.

“The Seer said it was urgent, so I’ve sent servants to make sure the court healer is at the ready when we arrive,” Felix interrupted. They hovered over Dirk, their hands moving as though to touch him then back to wringing together. They looked to Roxy and Karkat. “Should we move him? Can we? I – I’m not sure what –”

“We got him,” Dave said, pushing Karkat out of the way as he looped one of Dirk’s arms around his shoulders with Roxy on the other side.

Dirk was surprised Karkat wasn’t arguing, but he looked – Well, maybe it was the haziness over his vision, but Dirk thought Karkat looked like he had lost about as much blood as Dirk apparently was in the process of doing.

Dirk gritted his teeth as Roxy and Dave helped him to his feet, with Karkat scrambling up after him. They tested walking a few paces, and Dirk was thankful he managed to keep his feet under him, even if it was mostly because of the support.

Rose and Felix moved out of the way, then followed behind with Karkat as Roxy and Dave awkwardly walked out of the room.

Dirk heard someone stumble behind him, and craned his head to see, but the twist of his neck sent another stab of pain in his shoulder.

“Are you quite al–” Felix began.

“I’m fine,” Karkat snapped.

“Are you sure? You look dreadfully pale, maybe you should –”

“Get off! I can walk just fine. Shouldn’t you be up front leading us to the infirmary anyway?”

“Ah. Yes, of course,” Felix said sheepishly, and in a moment, the prince rushed in front of Dirk, Dave, and Roxy. He half turned back to them as he kept walking. “This way. It’s – It’s down some stairs, but not many. I hope that won’t be much trouble.”

The stairs were terrible. At least in Karkat’s opinion. Dirk barely even flinched, even as each step tugged at the hole in his shoulder, refusing to give it a chance to clot. By the time they actually made it to the infirmary, Roxy and Dave were practically dragging him.

The healer ushered them in, gesturing for a few benches for Karkat and Dave to sit on while Prince Felix followed Roxy and Dave took Dirk toward one of the beds. The latter were immediately ushered back to the benches while the healer looked over Dirk, with the prince hovering close to the bed. Karkat thought he saw a faint green glow, which reminded him of… Something. He squeezed his eyes shut then turned his attention to the floor.

It all felt like a nightmare, not least because Prince Felix had been right – Karkat was still feeling woozy from when he collapsed while talking with Dave. Is that why it had been so easy for Dirk to flip him? Had he been too weak to do his fucking job and let Dirk almost get killed .

Karkat stared at his hands, stained with his prince’s blood. He couldn’t be sure if they were trembling or if his vision was really just that hazy until Rose took hold of one, bringing it into her lap, and they stilled.

“It’s not your fault, dear,” she said, running her thumb soothingly over the back of his hand.

“You don’t know that. You weren’t there.”

“I should have been,” she said softly.

Karkat glanced at her, then turned to her fully when he saw the guilt etched onto her face. “If it’s not my fault, it sure as hell isn’t yours,” Karkat said, a little more gruffly than he intended.

“I’m a Seer of Light. I See fortuitous outcomes. I dream of fragments of places I do not recognize and people I do not know and I piece them together into something coherent. It is my job to know when something like this is going to happen, and yet three times I have failed.” She said it all matter-of-factly, but there was a slight quiver in her voice.

Roxy leaned her head on Rose’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her middle. “It’s that Serket. She doesn’t got my voidy shit, but it looks like she can control how much attention anyone pays her. But Jade and the rest have her now. They’ll make sure she can’t do anything like this again.”

Rose laid her head on top of Roxy’s. “I hope you’re right. But that’s not the only reason why this is my fault,” she admitted.

Karkat, who had been feeling awkward witnessing the touching moment between the sisters, looked over at Rose again. “What do you mean?”

Rose patted his hand. “Dirk told me about your headaches, and,” she reached out with her other hand and brushed her finger along his upper lip, “your nosebleeds.” Her finger came away with a small smear of blood.

“He knew ?” Dave asked, anger building in his voice.

Rose tutted. “Feferi thought telling Karkat might make things worse, and I relayed much the same to Dirk. We had planned to deal with it further after the summit. Which, I suppose, since that is not happening, perhaps now is the appropriate time,” she said wryly.

Karkat leaned his head back against the wall. Of course Rose and the fae were involved. He almost didn’t want to know.

Dave didn’t leave him with a choice. “So what’s wrong with him?” he pressed.

“After he was knocked out at the tournament, Dirk was determined to keep him in the running,” Rose began. “So he made a deal with the fae. You have actually just witnessed him keeping his side of the bargain,” she noted thoughtfully.

Dave twirled his fingers impatiently for Rose to keep going.

“Regardless. They agreed to heal him, but ended up having a little surprise. You see, Karkat –”

“He’s stable! My lord is stable!” Prince Felix called as he walked quickly toward the group, smiling broadly.

Karkat stood, pulling his hand from Rose’s loose grip, and rushed past the foreign prince to his own.

Dirk’s cheeks were still pale, but a little pinker than they were before, and his brow had smoothed in what looked like a peaceful slumber.

“It took a lot out of him,” the healer said as he finished dressing some of the smaller wounds on Dirk’s arms. “But I have done what I can to speed up the process. He needs sleep, as I’m sure the rest of you do.” The healer turned to look at him and frowned. “Especially you.”

“I’m fine,” Karkat snapped reflexively. He grimaced and pressed his hands over his face for a moment. “Sorry. It’s been a long night.”

The healer smiled kindly, then held up his hands, hovering on either side of Karkat’s face. “May I?”

By this time the others had joined him at Dirk’s bedside. Dave caught his eye and nodded sternly.

Karkat rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Sure.”

The healer’s hands quickly closed the space and cupped Karkat’s face gingerly, with his thumbs barely ghosting Karkat’s eyelids.

A warmth fell over Karkat, as though he was being enveloped by a blanket. He shivered involuntarily, but felt calmer than he had in days, maybe weeks.

But then the warmth grew oppressive, like it was trying to sink into his skin. Karkat gritted his teeth as every heartbeat sent a dull ache through his veins.

Thick, hot liquid lapped at his feet. Up his legs. Higher. Higher, then –

It was gone.

Karkat opened his eyes, having to blink a few times to get the red aura he saw around Dave earlier to fade away from everyone around him. They were different. Some of them softer, some sharper, some – It hurt his head to think about.

Everyone was focused on Rose and the healer, who seemed to be arguing, though Karkat’s hearing didn’t return soon enough to hear anything except the tail end of it.

“I can assure you this is not the result of a concussion,” Rose said stiffly.

“That is exactly why I should be examining him!” the healer insisted.

“Now is not the time. We have healers who are more aware of his situation. We will handle this ourselves once we are back in Skaia.”

The healer pursed his lips. “And when are you expecting that to be? Your prince is in no fit state to be traveling for that long.”

Rose sighed and rubbed her eyes. “How long until he is?”

“I’ll check on him in the morning,” the healer said, his voice gentler. “He seemed to have taken to my healing well, and if he avoids an infection or any other complications, it may just be another few days if it’s urgent you return, after which he should still avoid any exertion. Though, I’m sure your own healers will have a better estimate by then,” he said with a small smirk. “But I can’t promise anything now. Just encourage you all to get some sleep.” He looked pointedly at Karkat.

“An excellent idea,” Rose said. “Let’s all retire for the night and convene in the morning to figure out our next move.”

“Wait, what about –” Dave started, gesturing to Karkat.

“Later,” Rose said sharply. “I seem to have been mistaken before. Now is not, in fact, the time.”

Dave frowned, but didn’t press the issue further. He followed Rose and Roxy out the door. Karkat had to pick up the pace to join them, his limbs feeling like lead now as though confirming sleep was ahead of him finally gave them the signal to relax. His body moved more on instinct than conscious motion as he followed the others back to their rooms, and barely managed to wave a goodnight before entering his room.

The room he shared with Dirk.

He closed the door behind him, but hesitated to take a step further in as his eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight shining in through the window. He expected to see the knocked over furniture and scattered belongings he glimpsed when he first burst in on Dirk doing… Whatever it was he had done to the thief.

Karkat couldn’t repress a shiver remembering her screams. He never thought Dirk was capable of torturing someone like that, and the way his eyes had cast the room in that purplish-red glow, the blood dripping from his many wounds taking on an unnatural hue… It still made him a little queasy to think about – especially after hearing about Dave. Was that the last thing Dave had seen before his bonds were cut? Karkat shook his head. Whatever Dirk had been doing to Peixes didn’t seem anything like what Dirk had described with Dave. It was different. And Dirk had almost been killed! He had no other choice – right?

Still, remembering it, remembering the sheer chaotic violence of the room made it more unnerving that all traces of it had disappeared. Anything broken had been removed or replaced, anything out of order was back where Karkat remembered it, and, he’d have to get a closer look to double check, but there were no obvious dark stains on the floor from when he had pulled Dirk down with him, though Karkat could still see the blood on his own hands.

Karkat went to the washbasin, relieved that the servants Prince Felix had clearly sent to fix up the place had also re-filled the pitcher. He washed his hands and tried not to focus on how the water turned pink and darkened further the more he washed. He dumped the bloody water out the window, and almost dropped the basin in shock as a trick of the light turned the freshly scrubbed stains from his hands a deep but vibrant red as though he were back in that moment, desperately trying and failing to save the man he swore to protect. Karkat squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, his hands were back to normal.

He was exhausted. That’s what this was about. The adrenaline having drained from his body plus his own blood loss from earlier was messing with his mind.

Karkat needed to go the fuck to sleep.

He made a move for the couch he had claimed when they first arrived – was it really only a few hours ago? Shit. Add that to the list of reasons he was out of it. More had happened in that short amount of time than the past couple of weeks combined.

Still, instead of immediately collapsing on the couch, he stopped and looked at the bed.

Dirk wasn’t here.

Karkat inched toward the bed.

Maybe…

He ran a hand over the soft quilt.

No one else was going to use it, so…

Karkat glanced guiltily at the door, then changed into his sleep clothes and crawled into the bed before he could lose his nerve.

His bed back at the Skaian castle was more comfortable than he had been used to up until that point, but this was beyond compare. He snuggled into the pillows, quilts up over his shoulders, and breathed a deep sigh of contentment, and –

Oh.

It smelled like Dirk.

Karkat’s cheeks heated just thinking about it – he had never realized Dirk had a smell, but there was no mistaking it. Dirk had slept here.

Trying not to act as though he was being watched, Karkat grabbed one of the pillows his head wasn’t on and hugged it close to his chest. But when he moved the pillow, he caught something out the corner of his eye – a mark on the sheet that the pillow had been hiding. Karkat moved a little closer to get a better look, his stomach sinking as he already knew what it was. A splatter of Dirk’s blood.

Karkat wasn’t sure if the servants missed this or they didn’t want to deal with changing the sheets and thought hiding it by a pillow would be enough. Karkat’s stomach roiled with conflicting emotions. He had just finished ridding himself of the last traces of it on his hands, but something about this was different. An evidence of Dirk’s sacrifice rather than of Karkat’s failure. He felt drawn to it. 

Hesitantly, reverently, Karkat reached out and placed his hand over the small stain, then finally closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

When Dirk woke up, the sun was just beginning to filter in through the window. He watched it lazily as his brain sludged along to catch up to his current situation. This was the infirmary. He remembered Roxy and Dave helping him here, but didn’t quite remember actually arriving. He glanced around the room. No Karkat. He breathed a sigh of relief. He vaguely remembered Karkat looking like he was sick or injured, but if he wasn’t here, then he was fine.

Dirk’s eyelids grew heavy, and he was about to let himself fall back asleep, when there was a quiet rapping on the wall. Dirk struggled to sit up, hissing as his wounds stretched but thankfully didn’t break open.

“Ah, do not strain yourself on my account!” It was Prince Felix, walking swiftly to his side.

Dirk let himself slump back to just partially being elevated by his pillows. “Is everything well?”

Felix nodded. “Yes, my lord. I was just walking by when I thought I saw you move, and wanted to check on you. Should I alert the others that you’re awake?”

Dirk wanted to say yes – he wanted to see for himself that Karkat was fine, but he wasn’t sure he’d stay awake long enough for the prince to fetch them and return, so he shook his head. “Not yet. Maybe in a few hours.”

“Of course, my lord. I’m surprised you woke up so early as it is.”

Dirk thought Felix would leave after saying that, but he lingered by Dirk’s bed. “Is there something else I should be aware of?”

“Ah, yes,” Felix said sheepishly. “If you wouldn’t mind me keeping you awake for a few minutes longer.”

Dirk nodded.

“Your guard was here as well, if you recall, and my healer thought he looked a little… unwell.” They looked nervously at Dirk for a reaction, which Dirk didn’t give, then continued, “He tried to use his aspect to ascertain the cause, but the knight seemed to have quite a negative reaction to it. My healer wished to study it further, but Seer Rose convinced him to stop. It seems something she, and I assume you, were perhaps aware of?”

“He’s been having headaches and nosebleeds,” Dirk said simply.

“Yes, that must explain –” Prince Felix dug something out of his jacket pocket. It was crumpled and dark brown, and Felix held it up by a lacy corner. “I believe your guard dropped this.”

Some sort of cloth? Dirk held out his hand to inspect it. Felix hesitated, then deposited it in his hand. Dirk lifted it, careful not to agitate his wounds more than necessary. It was cloth – a handkerchief. Dirk could barely make out the RL stitched in the middle. Rose’s – Roxy was never the one for this sort of thing – so at one point this was, what, light pink? Purple? Not brown. He brought it a little closer to his face and the sharp scent of copper overwhelmed him. He looked back at Felix, who was grimacing.

“Yes, all blood, I’m afraid. Not from you. It was mostly dry when I found it last night as we were leaving. Though I’m not sure it’s all from the, ah, nostrils.”

“What do you mean?” Dirk asked, fear creeping into his voice.

Felix looked pained. “Well, you see, while my healer was inspecting him, there were a few crusts of blood on the – well the ear. The inner ear and lobe, to be specific, so it wasn’t from a knick in the kerfuffle. The seer said she knew someone who knew more – something about the triggering of an old wound, I believe? She didn’t say much else after the knight regained himself.”

“Triggered,” Dirk repeated.

Felix nodded. “Yes. Do you perhaps have an idea of the cause?”

What was it Rose had said? That there was a seal, one that was breaking faster than intended. Could the reason be that something was triggering Karkat’s episodes? When did Dirk first notice? His brain felt like sludge as he tried to recall.

It was the morning after Roxy and Dave left. He remembered because it happened again the following morning and… 

Without letting himself think too hard about where the urge came from, Dirk reached out and wiped the smudge off with his thumb, the rest of his fingers brushing Karkat’s cheek.

Dirk’s stomach twisted pleasantly, painfully, at the memory. That’s right. That was also around the time Karkat opened up about running away from home, so Dirk told him about Dave. Or, well, the version of the story he could tell.

He hadn’t noticed it again until Karkat fell off his horse on the way to Aradia, but since the man still insisted he was fine, he was sure it had happened more often.

But what had they been doing before? Not just riding, they were talking. Talking about expectations. Identity. Dirk giving everything for his country except producing an heir. Karkat running from the same weight placed on him. A mutual understanding of not sacrificing something core to your being for anyone else.

Had it happened again since then? Before last night? And when last night? The only times Dirk didn’t have clear view of the man’s face were before they arrived at the castle, but surely he would have noticed Karkat pulling out a handkerchief on the road, or when Dirk rested before dinner, or – Or on the way to dinner, when Karkat followed up the rear, and he had avoided looking too hard at the man after, well, after Rose caught them in a moderately compromised position. And the last time he saw him before the attack was when Karkat ran after Dave. After he finally learned the truth about what Dirk had done.

Dirk paled.

Blood dealt with connections, similar to Dirk’s own aspect. That’s why Rose thought he had singled out Karkat.

What if…