Chapter Text
Crown Prince Anadonias and Prince Syviriis of the Golden Isles knew from the second the Antarctic Empire stepped into the Ouphalia palace that they were royally fucked.
The Empire's advances had been deliberate, methodical, almost painfully slow, leaving them with a false sense of security. They had pondered strategies, alliances, and defenses, believing they had time on their side. In hindsight, Tommy felt a gnawing stupidity. They had underestimated the enemy, lulled into a false complacency by the Empire's gradual progress. But then, like a bolt from the blue, the Antarctic forces struck with sudden ferocity, outpacing every plan they'd concocted.
Tommy, determined to make as much noise as possible, shuffled forward once more and delivered another sharp kick to the dented carriage door. The clinks and echoes of the chains wrapped tightly around his wrists reverberated in the confined space of the white carriage. He briefly wished for the hundredth time that they had been sat in the usual spot, facing forwards in the direction they were supposed to be going instead of backwards, so to face the retreating image of their kingdom. It wasn't visible anymore, only the warm white sand of the Diamond Expanse lay behind them, glittering in the sun and filling Tommy up with that bitter hatred for the loss he knew was coming. He couldn't help but yell again, this time with even more intensity, his voice filled with frustration.
After his outburst, he turned his attention to his own shackles, attempting to free himself despite the limited mobility. The iron chains were unyielding, a cruel reminder of his captivity. But Tommy wouldn't give up so easily; he would continue to resist, seeking any opportunity to escape the clutches of his captors. For he was Tommy - Prince of the Golden Isles - and he refused to go down without a fight-
"Tommy." A quiet voice called.
Tommy paused momentarily as his gaze shifted to the slumped over form of his older brother, Wilbur, who shared his predicament – both of them shackled and bearing the heavy iron restraints that betrayed their fall from grace. The anger that had been encasing Tommy grew even hotter.
The once pristine and decorated outfit his brother wore had been scorched and torn in the chaos - the deep reds fading into an ashy black in the places the fire had come too close to catching him. The delicate golden sash he had around his waist had been cut almost fully open and the simply decorated transparent shirt had come untucked underneath it. The singed embers of his once rich cape clung uselessly to his left shoulder, while the cuff of his left bell-shaped trouser leg had been burnt nearly entirely off after catching in the flames. Worse than all of that though, was the haunted look of exhaustion he wore as he turned to Tommy - which he wiped away to a carefully small smile as soon as he realised he was being observed.
Tommy couldn't help but hate seeing the mask slip so easily onto his brother's face - a result of practise no doubt - but the cracks were always there if he looked hard enough. His eyes were more dull than they should have been, corners downturned, and there was a small pinch to his glabella that cast a little more shadow on his face than normal in the setting sun.
Wilbur's words, gentle and concerned, reached Tommy's ears. "You're going to hurt yourself," he whispered, a subtle plea for caution. With a reluctant sigh, Tommy refrained from kicking the door again, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He turned away from him and instead fixed a glare upon the guards visible next to and behind the carriage. They all wore armour engraved with the increasingly familiar insignia of the Empire - an intricate snowflake design with two feathers on each of the five main arms and an arrow on each of the secondaries. He noticed the recent changes had made their way onto the armour too - a decorated circle had replaced a diamond on each of the secondary arms. The engraved symbols were etched onto the soldiers' armor, standing out against a white background that seamlessly blended into the icy armour they wore, glimmering in the sunlight like morning light on a frozen lake. He shifted his eyes further up to take in the blank expressions on their faces. None of the guards would catch his eye, no matter how hard he tried, and he bristled once more.
"This is fucking stupid." He mumbled, pushing himself back and leaning up against Wilbur, seeking the comfort that came from being around his brother. Wilbur sighed lowly, seeming defeated after a long day of planning and running.
In the beginning, fear had gripped them both, an overwhelming and paralyzing sensation that had them both clawing desperately at their confines, kicking and screaming in an attempt to escape the clutches of their captors. The guards on the other side of the carriage door had been met with their furious resistance.
But as the journey wore on, the fiery intensity of their terror seemingly began to ebb for Wilbur, leaving him to slump into the seat as a complex mix of emotions swirled in his eyes. For Tommy, however, anger burned like a smoldering ember, a persistent reminder of their humiliating defeat.
"Tommy." Wilbur called gently once more, holding his hand out as best he could. Tommy felt a pang of emotion wash over him, the mix of anger and frustration momentarily giving way to a softer feeling. He turned and gently grasped at the hand Wilbur offered, noticing the little injuries - cuts and bruises that decorated previously manicured and soft hands. Marks that weren't there that morning. He let his eyes trace over the additions as he tried to relax a little from where he was holding himself stiffly in his seat.
His own clothes hadn't faired much better. They wore similar outfits, though his did have some additions. The cape that hung from his brother's left side instead hung from his right, the silky layers much more intact. His shirt was more decorated too - instead of a simple stripe of gold across the centre, he had a delicately woven image of the sunrise, a symbol of their kingdom that he wore proudly across his chest. He had kept the circlet that wove throughout his hair in place too, Wilbur having lost his own at some point during the capture and subsequent ride out of the city to the carriages they found theirselves bound in. Tommy let his eyes trail further down to the red and gold cuffs they both wore, tightened in place by the shackles holding them and almost definitely leaving marks where the rubies were imbedded. He sighed.
"What's going to happen to us?" He asked in a small voice, closing his eyes briefly and allowing himself a tiny moment of vulnerability after hours of trying to stay strong in the face of danger, before he looked back up. He could feel the fear creeping back in again now that he wasn't focusing solely on the anger he felt, that heavy feeling he had been pushing down clawing its way back up his chest and sitting uncomfortably in the hole by his heart that leaving his kingdom had left behind.
"I don't know. Wilbur admitted quietly with a heavy sigh, his brows furrowing in thought. "The Antarctic Empire isn't exactly forthcoming about their intentions or their actions. We've been in the dark since the beginning - we don't know why they attacked in the first place."
Wilbur's voice was tinged with a mixture of regret and disbelief as he added, "This was really sudden, the last few meetings we had with their representatives didn't go incredibly well, but we couldn't have predicted this."
Tommy pressed closer as he listened, nodding along as he recalled the last peace summit the four lands had held. Being too young to do much, his role at the meetings had been relatively limited. He would make his presence known, read a prepared speech, and sign documents, but his involvement was generally brief. He had often been whisked away by advisors after his speeches, where he would engage in discussions with other advisors and dignitaries. His charisma had always been a beacon, drawing people near and making them open up, whether in the diplomatic circles or on the grand stage. Wilbur, on the other hand, was always better at slipping into a crowd and gathering his intel through listening in to the conversations around him. Tommy recalled the days when he would follow his older brother around with a sense of admiration - even when the spotlight was on him, he had a remarkable ability to remain inconspicuous, blending into the background as effortlessly as a shadow. His knack for navigating the intricacies of diplomacy and politics with his keen intellect and sharp observational skills was a perfect match for Tommy's ability to charm people and get them to talk.
"I don't remember much, I don't think I even spoke to their people at the last summit." Tommy muttered, pushing his head against Wilbur's neck and sighing at the minimal amount of comfort it brought. It wouldn't be long before he had to move, the chains keeping him bound digging uncomfortably into his skin, but he soaked up the closeness while he could and closed his eyes as he listened to the rumble of the other's voice.
"No one was sent." He breathed, a strained pitch to his voice.
"We didn't even question it until the party was over. We assumed it was because they were busy with the new heir, but in hindsight..." Wilbur trailed off as he mused, lightly turning his hand over and tracing a small cut on the side of Tommy's pointer finger with his thumb, humming gently to try to sooth both of their frayed nerves a little. "I think we can at the very least count on them getting us to negotiate the terms of our surrender ."
Tommy barely repressed a whine, struggling to contain the emotions that threatened to immediately spill over. Just hearing the word 'surrender' had splinted a part of his heart, the hollow sense of emptiness and sorrow for his lost kingdom weighing him down as he shifted in place. His wings unfurled from the stationary locked position they had been in the entire carriage ride to wrap around them both, cocooning them as best he could. He was glad the guards had forgone attempting to chain them to his back in favour of pushing them into the carriage - though he didn't hold hope for that luck to continue once they had arrived.
They stayed close to each other, trying to ignore the dull ache of the chains digging into them, before the carriage made an abrupt turn. Tommy lowered his wings just in time to see the wheels grinding through a rough patch of sand (and almost definitely getting into one of the guard's clothes, if the quick displeased reaction he had was anything to go by) and jolting him to the right. Wilbur crashed into him a few times, both of them being jostled as they transitioned from the smooth beauty of the Diamond Expanse's sands into the rough, unforgiving terrain by the water's edge.
They looked out of their respective windows as they went, the landscape transitioning from sand to rocks and to boulders - and, finally, shoreline. Rocky outcroppings framed the water below, their jagged peaks a stark contrast to the serene desert they had left behind. The carriage rattled over uneven ground, and the sound of crashing waves grew louder, carrying the salty tang of the sea. Tommy shuddered as he looked out of the window on Wilbur's side of the carriage, seeing bit by bit the little town of Wildhelm come into view - the port town on the edge of the territory. Their territory.
Once again, he found himself wishing they could see what was coming up instead of being lead in blindly so that he might have had a tiny bit of time to prepare himself. The town was mostly intact; many of the large, light wooden buildings had sustained only minor damage on the outskirts. It was the capitol which had taken the most damage - word of the invasion reaching them much later than expected. Even so, there was an obvious darkness that had been cast upon the town. It was quiet, empty, devoid of the usual laugher and shouting and life that was hard to keep a lid on usually. Hardly any towns people walked the streets, Tommy only catching sight of a few Antarctic Empire guards patrolling and the odd animal as they rolled closer in, the noise of the horse's hooves that lead the carriage echoing on the cobbles. He caught flashes of people when he looked at the houses - curtains being moved and shadows peeking out from small openings in doors - no doubt trying to figure out what was going on. News spread slow in the kingdom, many people finding out about the defeat only when they caught sight of the carriage and the princes that sat imprisoned inside.
Tommy felt sick.
They moved slowly, the Empire taking their time to roll down the road and show off their new prizes, bound and breaking with every gasp and sharp whisper that caught their ears from the village people. Tommy gripped his brother's hand tighter, staring straight ahead at the seat in front of him as he attempted to remain composed despite the situation. If Wilbur had taught him anything, it was the ability to appear blank. Granted, he would never be as good as the other, but it was all he had left once he was hit once again with the crushing feeling of dread that sunk into his bones.
The carriage came to a halt on the outskirts of the town, far enough away to provide both privacy and visibility for potential intruders. Here, a temporary war camp had been established for the numerous guards and soldiers who now occupied the streets. White sheets were strung up to create makeshift tents and small campfires dotted the area. Blockades of wood, freshly cut from the nearby forest, offered some security. The guards that had already shed their armour congregated in small groups, their conversations filled with the air of celebration over the news of their recent victory. The scene was a stark reminder of the upheaval that had taken place, with the conquered town now transformed into a hub of military activity.
The once-familiar lands of the Golden Isles were now a hostile territory, and the presence of the Antarctic Empire's troops only fueled Tommy's resentment.
The practiced exchange of guards by the carriage parade was a routine Tommy had witnessed many times with his own royal guards. As the shift changed, well-rested and alert guards seamlessly replaced their tired counterparts. Tommy knew the drill all too well, having experienced the process countless times.
It was clear that the word had spread about Tommy's outbursts during the journey, prompting the guards to be on high alert. Tommy's anger had left an impression, evident in the dent he had left in the carriage door, and a hint of smugness washed over him as he realized the impact of his actions.
As the new guards took their positions and the atmosphere shifted, Tommy couldn't shake the feeling that the security had intensified. The guards appeared more vigilant, standing taller and exuding a greater sense of authority.
And that's when Tommy heard it.
The deep and commanding voice that resonated through the air sent shivers down Tommy's spine, making him almost immediately pin his wings to his back. It was a chilling, authoritative tone, and he strained to listen in. Although the words were indistinct due to his position and distance from the speaker, Tommy could hear the buzzing of excitement from the guards, recognizing it as a formal announcement of victory. The ensuing cheers and applause from the guards were thunderous, momentarily startling him. He let out the breath he had been holding as the noise died down, growing quieter suddenly.
… a little too quiet.
As Tommy turned to express his concern to Wilbur, he noticed a sudden change in his brother's demeanor. Wilbur had stiffened, and a sense of unease washed over Tommy. He froze, his unspoken question turning to silent dread as he followed Wilbur's gaze and realized the cause of his brother's distress.
There, standing with the carriage door open, was a man of imposing stature that dwarfed the surrounding guards. He was pale, well-built, and he donned an outfit reminiscent of the classic Empire military uniform - albeit with a few distinct differences that set him apart.
His white shirt featured two rows of buttons and chains securing it down the center. The sleeves were voluminous and puffy but neatly cuffed at the wrists, ending in simple leather cuffs designed for protection rather than fashion, unlike the ornate ones worn by Tommy and Wilbur. His white trousers were tucked into white boots, their tops turned down to create a substantial rim which reminded tommy of pirate boots. That, however, was where the similarities with the standard guards' attire ended.
While the other guards wore shiny white armor engraved with the Empire's insignia, this man wore a clean blue cape. It had an upturned collar and was fastened around his neck, falling gracefully across his body to the right side. The Empire's symbol was not etched into the armour, but instead embroidered on the cape, sitting prominently on his shoulder and taking up a significant portion of the fabric.
The fabric fell to approximately his knees, and Tommy couldn't help but imagine it would be oversized on someone of normal stature, but the man's towering presence carried it with ease. Standing at what appeared to be at least six foot eight, he was built like a mountain. A simple belt cinched around his waist, providing a practical place for a scabbard and other essentials.
The man's pink, tousled hair that reached down to his shoulders featured a scattering of silver rings and small connecting chains woven through a couple of small and randomly placed braids. He also appeared to have a longer braid at the back that he had flicked over his shoulder, rings and chains forming delicate patterns within it. His ears were pointed, downturned and decorated. In his left ear, an emerald earring hung, a delicate piece encased in a silver shell. The earring was not merely a static decoration; it was connected to a chain that dangled close to his jaw before threading back through another piercing hole in his ear. The chain weaved in and out through the equal distance piercing holes until it created a chain loop, to which the man had attached a silver ring. On the other side of the chain, another small accessory was nestled—an elegant black feather. This feather was carefully wrapped in cord before being looped into the chain's end.
The man's right ear boasted equally intricate decorations, featuring interlocking chains and two rings instead of just one. Among these adornments was a small, pointed, diamond-shaped gem, reminiscent of the shape of the points on the insignia adorning his cape which caught Tommy's eye. It was so shiny. The gem displayed a captivating colour-shifting effect, transitioning between shades of green and purple in the dim light. It was meticulously wrapped in silver wire, with two smaller silver metal pointed star shapes inlaid upon it on opposing corners. It connected to his ear with another, slightly larger, pointed star.
His large hands were adorned with white gloves, an unusual choice given the humidity, yet he showed no sign of discomfort as he stepped forward and looked over them both, his calculating eyes briefly taking note of the damage to the interior of the carriage before flicking over to land on Tommy's own.
If the alarm bells in his head weren't ringing before, they certainly were now. His vision seemed to be taken over and encompassed by a deep, overbearing red hue which pulled him in and filled him steadily with a draining sense of dread. He felt frozen in space, unable to tear his eyes away as the man observed him, expression carefully blank. Wilbur's subtle movements and the glance he was sent did not go unnoticed by Tommy.
After what felt like an eternity, but could only have been a few seconds, the man mercifully let Tommy's gaze go in favour of turning his head to talk to the guard who approached on his right. Tommy took the opportunity to breathe a little, attempting to compose himself. He wouldn't let himself get lost so easily. He looked up again, intending to look at the man head on when he turned back to Tommy, but he got sidetracked very quickly when he noticed the man's teeth. The pair of sharp fangs that were previously hidden, now ominously revealed as the man spoke a few quiet words. There was something shiny in his mouth that reflected off of the surrounding light, and it took him a second to realise that there was a small silver ring around one of his fangs.
Something uneasy struck him as the guard left and the man turned back to them. He reminded Tommy of a vampire - red eyes, sharp teeth, pale skin and the overwhelming ability to suck the blood out of Tommy's face just by locking eyes with him. The tension in the small space began to intensify as the man looked over the space once more.
"You broke my carriage." The mountain seemingly said to himself, eyes flickering over the damaged interior, surveying the dent he had left. Tommy clenched his fists, his anger bubbling back up as quickly as it had died down. Wilbur straighter slightly when he noticed, the ghost of his hand moving slowly over Tommy's own once again.
'Calm down' Was the silent message, and he heard it loud and clear. He focused on the trim of the seat next to him as he let Wilbur take control of the situation.
"Yes, we did. Where will we be sleeping?" Wilbur asked bluntly, getting straight to the point. He wasn't one to fluff up his words unless he had good reason to.
The man huffed and then, without saying a word, he reached into the carriage and unlocked the restraints that bound Tommy and Wilbur, setting them free. It was a surprising and unanticipated gesture, one that left them both momentarily speechless. They both took the opportunity to rub at the areas that had tensed up or been rubbed by the chains, Tommy almost immediately taking off one of his cuffs to assess the damage. There were a few deep purple bruises, fading out to a dull red at the edges, and he was quick to hide them by pulling the cuff back on again. The man had clearly seen though, if the small huff he had let out was of any indication.
Then, as if nothing had happened, the man stepped back and gestured for them to exit the carriage. The guards around them appeared ready to escort them, and the weight of uncertainty continued to hang heavily in the air. Tommy and Wilbur exchanged a brief apprehensive glance, before cautiously moving forwards to step out of the carriage, their every movement observed by the imposing figure and the surrounding guards.
As Tommy stepped out he noticed the way the man shifted himself slightly, his cape twitching where his hand lay, and the way his eyes widened briefly at the sight of his light blonde, almost white wings. It was an odd response, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance - especially when it was common knowledge that both he and Wilbur were avians. Or- well. He thought they both were, anyway.
Tommy swiftly tucked his wings against his back, concealing them from view in response to the man's odd reaction. It left him with a sense of unease, wondering why someone in the position of the man would be taken aback by their avian traits.
Maybe they were birdist.
With his wings firmly hidden away behind his cape, they took a moment to stretch and adjust after the cramped confines of the carriage. They exchanged knowing glances before being ushered forward. The open expanse of the temporary war camp lay before them with guards scattered around - some celebrating the recent victory, while others remained on alert.
The man who had released them from their restraints stayed close behind, his presence a constant reminder of the unsettling air that enveloped them. As they moved through the camp, they couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversation among the guards and soldiers. The war camp had a mix of jubilation, victory, and curiosity, but it was clear that the situation remained unpredictable.
They remained vigilant, their senses finely tuned to the ever-changing atmosphere around them. The war camp seemed like a world apart from the palace they had known, with its celebratory and yet tense ambiance. As they walked through the camp, guards and soldiers who had recognized them approached with mixed reactions. Some were respectful to the man - who Tommy guessed was either an official of some sort or a military leader, going by the uniform - by offering nods or words of acknowledgment, while others wore expressions of curiosity, surprise, and even resentment towards the princes. No one spoke to them directly and they didn't stay still for long, the man keeping a close eye on them as the guards flanked them on all sides. Tommy felt exposed and vulnerable, and was almost glad when they reached a couple of larger and more closed off tents in the centre of the camp.
The man who had released them gestured for Tommy and Wilbur to enter, prompting them to step further into a tent. Inside there were mats laid out on the floor with a few curtains set up on the left and right sides to form partitions - two rooms on each side. In the centre of the room there was a large table with five seats crowding it, a map laid out in the middle and a few messy scrolls and quills dotted around it. A single dim lamp hung from the top of a tent, held in place by a rope which hooked in and traveled the back wall before coming to the floor and being pitched into a small section of visible dirt. There was a motion from the man as he stepped inside flanked by three guards. One of them stepped forward to clear the table and Tommy noticed almost immediately the horns that curled around the man's pointed and downturned ears, as well as the black tips of his fingers. So, they weren't against hybrids then.
"Your Royal Highnesses will be given quarters here. I imagine it's not as grand as you're used to, but it will provide you with shelter." The man spoke, catching their attention as another one of the guards walked up to the curtains on the left side of the room and pulled them back. His words were slow and polite, but there was an underlying tension in the air. Tommy and Wilbur exchanged a look, aware that they were in a precarious position, but also understanding the importance of diplomacy. It was a fine line to walk.
"We prefer to sleep together." Wilbur stated almost immediately, shifting closer to Tommy to put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. Now, to the unknowing, the small squeeze was nothing but a brother giving comfort to his younger, a steady hand to keep him grounded - but Tommy could see it for what it was.
'Go along with it.' He said silently. Tommy easily complied, nodding his head at the man looking upon them almost curiously. He took pause, glancing briefly between the pair, before looking over his shoulder at the guards behind him and nodding. All but one of them left, the guard with the horns who had gone to clear the table, and when the man turned his head back Tommy spotted something.
A shiver ran up his spine, his mouth went dry and he very nearly backtracked, shifting backwards a little when the man stepped forward, the cape around his shoulder once again moving by itself. But it wasn't the cape moving at all - because from behind the cape a black shape unfolded and unfurled and stretched out high above his head, shadowing the room from any outside light as the man took another step and stretched out his-
His wings.
They were a deep, rich black and huge: bigger than any Tommy had seen before - including the pair he remembered his father to have. Those had reached down to the middle of his thighs when he relaxed, but these seemed to be able to reach down to the back of the man's calves - which, considering the height of him, was just unreasonably and quite frankly unfairly large to Tommy.
He tried to remain composed as he allowed himself a glance over at Wilbur - who, like him, had gone very still as he observed the dark shape that grew behind the man.
The alarm bells in his head had become deafening as the man took a final step, coming up face to face with them. He scrutinized them once more, and his penetrating gaze locked onto Wilbur, mirroring the way he had focused on Tommy in the carriage. In a low tone, he addressed Wilbur, speaking in a controlled manner.
"I'll allow it." he spoke evenly, granting permission for them to sleep together. But before Tommy could take this as a straightforward victory, the man's voice turned colder. "But, I anticipate full cooperation and your silent compliance for the remainder of the journey. The trip back to the Empire is quite lengthy, and I have no intention of dedicating my time to babysitting you both to prevent any more disturbances. Is that clear?"
The mention of disturbances was accompanied by a pointed look in Tommy's direction. He immediately clenched his jaw, struggling with effort to contain the mix of anger and fear welling up within him. His avian instincts heightened his sensitivity, making it a challenge to confront the man's stern words without retreating away, while his human side urged him to snap back at the man. It took a considerable amount of effort to remain composed.
"Understood." Wilbur replied in a controlled and diplomatic tone as Tommy nodded in acknowledgment, taking note of the underlying warning in the man's words. Tommy stayed silent, his eyes darting between the man's imposing figure and Wilbur. The presence of the man's enormous wings still hung in the air, casting uncertainty over him.
Raised wings were usually a signal to submit, to give in to the larger hybrid...
But Wilber stayed blank, refusing to back down, and the man gave a small huff as he turned to Tommy instead.
He fought the overwhelming urge to lower his eyes as he kept his gaze locked onto the man's own. That was - until a noise behind Wilbur startled him. He broke eye contact, turning to look at his brother (who's slightly wide eyes betrayed his true feelings to his brother) and then further behind to where the hybrid guard was struggling with a folding bed which was very quickly coming undone as he attempted to move it.
The winged man made another small huff (something he did often, Tommy noted) and turned, stepping over to the front of the tent and exiting without another word.
The brothers exchanged a knowing glance, and Tommy felt a sense of relief as he moved closer to Wilbur, leaning against him. He just chuckled under his breath in reply, arm coming around to Tommy's shoulder and tightening as the guard came back out of the room and stood to the side of the curtain, slightly sweaty after fighting with the bed. He gave a small bow before stepping to the side.
"Very well, Your Royal Highnesses. Your sleeping quarters await." The guard drawled with an air of indifference, gesturing towards the area he had arranged. While he spoke, he casually fished out a deck of cards from a small pouch by his side, slinking over to the table.
The brothers moved quickly into the area, Tommy practically throwing himself on one of the uncomfortable cot beds set up while Wilbur swiftly drew the curtain closed, almost immediately turning and taking long strides to get to Tommy's side, his eyes full of worry.
"You're not too badly hurt, are you?" He whispered lowly, conscious of the thin barrier separating them from the guard. Tommy just shook his head and shrugged, closing his eyes briefly while Wilbur began to shift around in the small space. He heard a soft grunt as Wilbur began pulling the bed from the other side of their area over to where he lay, pushing them up against each other. Then there was a hand in his hair, carefully untangling his curls from the circlet that rested there.
He made a contented sound at the feeling of being cared for. In response, Wilbur hummed a soft, wordless tune, a comforting melody that seemed to follow no rules as his gentle fingers ran through Tommy's hair, and Tommy began to relax under the soothing ministration.
They were finally alone.
He felt a hand hover over his own where it lay on his chest, and just before he could reach out to grab it, it traveled up and began to tug off his wrist cuff. He emitted a soft whine of discomfort, but Wilbur gently shushed him in response return as he managed to unhook the cuff and pull it off, momentarily catching on the edge of his inner wrist and pushing against the bruise there. Wilbur stopped humming as gasp escaped them both, and he opened his eyes to see Wilbur who was now hovering his hand over the mark, his expression filled with worry.
"Oh, sunshine." He said softly, voice full of an ache Tommy couldn't even begin to describe as his other cuff was also tugged off and put to the side. He held his wrists carefully, lifting them to assess the marks. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you from this."
Tommy shook his head and began to sit up, startling his brother out of the daze he had momentarily settled into. He pushed against the hand that tried to push him back down and grabbed hold of his brother's shirt, pulling him forward into a hug. Wilbur slumped almost immediately, careful not to rest too much weight on his brother, just holding him close and breathing him in. A hand worked it's way back into Tommy's hair and he sighed.
“We’ll be okay.” He heard Wilbur mutter empty words of reassurance, but kind ones nonetheless. They lapsed into silence as they both contemplated their changed circumstances, grappling with the harsh reality that had presented itself: their homeland had fallen, their reign about to end, and they were about to become captives in a foreign land.
Tommy burned.