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There was something funny about royalty, something funny about being born into a family that meant you would rule some plot of land and the thousands of people who reside on it.
Ranboo was never a fan of it. Hated the lights, the show, the character he had to play.
He was a prince, the Prince.
His days were rather boring, lessons followed by memory therapy and too cold meals with his parents. He never disliked his parents, he never blamed them for the icy path that had befallen their relationship. Deep down he knew they didn’t choose the kingdom over their son, but a few too many trips to neighbouring kingdoms leaving him alone in a cold castle tipped the scale over the edge.
The king and queen before a mom and dad. The prince before a son.
Prince, it was far too similar to price.
He was luckier than most he admitted standing in the rather empty courtyard, dandelions springing up in the dying grass. His new instructor was late, he noted duly picking at the loose leather of his sword (he kept meaning to get it fixed up it always seemed to slip his mind) He had remembered the queen mentioning something about a new combat instructor, he had nodded before staring off into space missing the details.
Soon the lock on the old rusted gate clicked followed by a creek, the rushing of footsteps and heavy gasping for breath. Ranboo looked up to the noise only to be taken aback, in front of him stood a boy, he couldn’t have been older than seventeen. His brown hair grew wild and uncut covering his eyes to the point where Ranboo wasn’t sure if he could see him. The rest of him looked just as thrown together as his hair, a green shirt misbuttoned that looked well worn and an old sword strapped to his back.
The boy smiled like sunshine at Ranboo holding his hand out to shake.
“I’m Tubbo! I’ll be your combat instructor, at least until your parents fire me.” He laughed as Ranboo took his calloused hand in his own soft one.
“Ranboo.” Ranboo replied in a small voice as he towered over the boy that stood in front of him. Tubbo laughed again,
“Yeah no shit. Come on. I’m already late. I better beat you up a little bit.”
Ranboo made an indigent noise in his throat.
“Prove me wrong then princey boy.” Tubbo pushed his hair out of his eyes that seemed to glow bright green full of a confidence that Ranboo couldn’t hope to recreate as he removed his sword and readied himself.
His stance was low to the ground, his worn sword seeming to be an extension of his body. Ranboo followed his lead, readying the sword not feeling nearly as graceful as the smaller scared boy looked. Ranboo was- profenet at swordplay if you wanted to call it that, but that didn’t seem to matter to the smaller as he quickly overpowered him with the sword, pushing him unceremoniously onto the ground, squishing dandelions under his lanky frame.
“You were saying?” Tubbo said standing over Ranboo a cocky grin on his face holding out a hand to help Ranboo up, Ranboo took it, the back of his neck growing hot with embarrassment.
“You- Jeez” Ranboo settled on giving the boy a half smile before noticing how the boy was studying him.
“Can you show me you're ready again?” Ranboo obliged and didn’t struggle as Tubbo made small corrections to his form, explaining all the small intercruises of why he made each change.
“My friend back home, he used to have the same problem as you, one well placed hit and you're lying like a beached turtle on the ground, then you’re dead. But if you’re lower to the ground that won’t happen!”
He added brightly pushing Ranboo in the chest and beaming when he barely stumbled at the touch.
The boy rambled with various anecdotes about his family and his town as he corrected Ranboo on simple changes. Ranboo found himself hanging on the boys’ every word listing as spoke animatedly before once again sparing Ranboo. Ranboo managed to stay upright for a substantially longer amount of time but after a few minutes of an cordanted dance, blocking the shorters’ quick and hard blows he once again ended up pinned, Tubbos sword pointed squarely at his chest.
Tubbo smiled again, full of warmth though still with that cocky edge.
“You know, You’re not horrible for a royal.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Ranboo said, taking Tubbos hand and pulling himself upright.
“Well royals are all trained the same, proficient. Good enough to stay upright long enough for people who know what they're doing to save you.” Tubbo paused, his eyes glowing bright with something Ranboo would almost call mischief. “But I’m not going to do that fortunately for you.” The boy smiled again before glancing at the clock that hung around his neck.
“Fuck.” He muttered tugging at the thin chain. Ranboo glanced at his own chain and found that he was late for his memory therapy, Ranboo hummed putting the sword away and starting to walk towards the door towards his class before turning back to the boy.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked, still unsure on how to talk to his young instructor.
“You bet your ass you will.” Tubbo smiled again and Ranboo found himself matching it before disappearing through the door.
~~~
“Where are you staying?” Ranboo finally asked the instructor after another day's worth of training, his muscles starting to strain from the activity. Ranboo found he didn’t mind, found the thrill of knocking the tutor on to the ground after a few days was worth it. Tubbo looked awkwardly at the ground as he put the sword away, the silence stretching on for far too long.
“Well I’m not from here so..” He trailed off letting Ranboo piece together the rest of the story in his head
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Stay in the castle.” Ranboo said, notes of kindness and pity showing behind the command, Tubbo stared at the price, his now blue tinged eyes looked unfocused,
“I- You know it beats the street I’m in.” Tubbo smiled at Ranboo who looked at him curiously, but didn’t say anything.
“You can stay in my room if you want, or I can get you-”
“I’ll stay with you.” Tubbo said rather quickly for the first time sounding small, his voice sounding like the teenager he was. “I’m not used to being by myself, I’ve always shared a room.” They shared a smile before Ranboo rather harshly grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs, their swords laid forgotten on the dry dying grass.
Neither of them slept that night too preoccupied by the soft words shared between them like a lullaby. They talked about everything, (“ Well I’m from L’manburg, Wilbur was like my sudo brother kinda .” “Didn’t he blow it up?” “Yeah” “Oh”) Ranboo learned Tubbo liked to talk, he really liked to put Ranboo on the spot, asking him about his family and absurd scenarios he thought of, seeming to enjoy the way Ranboo would blush and stumble over his words. (“ Marry me.” “I- I’m- What?” “Marry me, my beloved.”)
The sun rose much too soon, casting golden rays across the bodies that laid sprawled across the unmade bed eyes drooping.
“Fuck.” Ranboo snorted at the tired voice of his friend as he rolled onto his side, misjudging the size of the bed and falling flat on his back letting out a huff of air to a soft noise of amusement from Tubbo.
“What if we don’t practice today”
“And I get fired? Nice try” Tubbo’s voice was scratchy as he rolled over and roughly grasped Ranboos hand, pulling him to his feet and dragging him to his feet.
~~~
Like clockwork the two fell into an easy routine, training early followed by Ranboos classes and Tubbo picking up various jobs in the city while Ranboo filled his brain with meaningless dribble. During the cold lonely days Ranboo would skip out on his lessons and lay on the bed and listen to Tubbo talk. Tubbos words rolling over him entering his subconscious, slowly undoing the years of indifference and too big words used to describe the kingdom he was meant to rule. “This is bullshit” Ranboo breathed into the still air after Tubbo had explained how he ran from town to town until he was about 8, running into the family he would take refuge in. Tubbo had only laughed at that, tracing a scar on his arm.
“I know.”
Tubbo, Ranboo found was full of stories, some full of joy and laughter, a misadventure that only ended in a light slap in the wrist, some darker, some outlining a life he could only imagine locked in the pages of his only dusty leather back books. Tubbo never seemed to let it weigh on him, his jabs striking home and a hearty laugh that could light up the room, Ranboo admired the boy for that. Tubbo had wormed his way into his life and forced his stories on to the page, ugly and raw. Stories of a prince who was only a prince by name, a prince who wanted out.
~~~
“Why don’t we burn it all down?” Tubbo asked after a particularly quiet night in their room.
“What?” Ranboo has his voice coming out in a half laugh
“I mean it. We both know the monarchy sucks collective dick so,” He held his hands out to his side eyes lighting like sparks. “Let it burn.”
Ranboo stared at him, eyes wide as he tried to understand the insanity of what Tubbo had put forth.
“Come on I know you hate it as much as me and you’re a part of it!” Tubbo was loud now, but not particularly mad, his token joking smile was gone, replaced with wild eyes and a half frown.
“Don’t you have a cousin or something? We could burn it and run. Tommy has a place we could go, you could be free.” Tubbos chest was heaving like he had just run sprints.
“Would it even burn?”
“I would make it.”
“They would come for me, for you”
“Not where we’re going.”
They sat in silence for too long, ideas chasing around Ranboos' head. He couldn’t, could he? It was a dream if he was honest, running away leaving the price and the title behind.
“They’re my people. I can’t leave them.” Ranboo said out loud watching as Tubbo shook his head.
“They don’t need a Prince.” He smiled sadly, “Your parents let my town get flattened before they bothered to even issue a statement, even then Phil had to drag it out of them.”
Tubbo was right, Ranboo knew that. Ranboo hated how light he felt as he looked at his friends bright eyes, realising he was running with him and they would be safe.
“Alright, just don’t kill them.” Tubbos face spilt into a grin.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
~~~
The castle was far too dark to be walking around, but there the pair was, Ranboo clutching on the bag that was swung over Tubbos back. Ranboo was shaking in the cloak that was draped over his lanky frame, peering into the murky silence that stretched over the dinning hall.
Tubbo held one of his hands out while the other gripped a glass bottle full of an amber liquid.
“On my que”
He whispered into the empty room, less than a second later he threw the glass, clear shards breaking on the marble floor, spinning in the amber liquid drops splattering the chairs and tables that were neatly arranged. An orange light grew, reflecting across Tubbos dark hair, he flicked his wrist with practiced caution, with all the skill of a trained sword man. Before the match could catch Tubbo pushed him, “Run.”
Ranboo listened.
His long stride let him cross the stairs and push through the door in seconds, holding it open letting the chrisp night air into the room, feeding the already rapidly growing fire. Ranboo smiled at the proud look on his small boy's face but didn’t look at the fire before they ran.
Ran until they passed the gate, ran until they passed the final run down house at the edge of town, ran until they collapsed into the scrawny arms of a harsh voice that Ranboos tired brain was too tired to decipher. He felt Tubbos hand on his and smiled.
They fucking did it. Prince Ranboo, heir to the throne, now only a boy clutching the hand of the friend who brought him home.