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Chapter Text

1577

King Benjamin and King Noah

The castle looms above him, above the entire city. It’s made of storm cloud grey stone and if he looks closely, shows the scars from all the battles and sieges it has weathered. 

The guards wear the coffee brown and bronze of seasoned but lower class soldiers, made obvious by their station at the gate to the palace. He’s sewn and patched up enough of those uniforms that he knows just by looking that the guard on the left will need one of the sleeves sewn back on in two days and the top button on his collar will fall off in a week. 

“Permission to enter?” he asks.

“Name?” the right guard asks back.

“Dragan, Virgil Dragan.”

“Reason?”

“I was summoned by Their Majesties the Kings,” Virgil replies, pulling out his letter and showing it to the guard.

They nod and open the gate, letting Virgil slip through then shutting it again. It is, after all, past time for the normal visitors to be coming and going, but he had only just arrived and the summons said to come as soon as he could.

He walks through the courtyard, empty, and up the stairs to the castle proper. Knocking on the door, he’s quickly let in by another guard who, after being shown the letter, summons a page and has them guide him. The page wears the dusty grey pants and muted carrot orange tunic of a regular page, that will need the knees patched soon. It’s a common issue, pages are always wearing down their knees from all the walking, running, and stairs they do everyday.

They silently guide him through a maze of halls, full of tapestries and suits of armor, before stopping at a pair of dark chocolate brown double doors with tarnished gold handles. They gesture for Virgil to wait here then slips in and closes the door behind them.

Virgil stands there, fiddling with his charcoal black and ash grey patched bag. The letter said to bring any and all sewing things he may need along with enough clothes to last him a week. He had left most of his things in an inn in the city, but had brought his usual sewing equipment and other things in his bag. 

Eventually the page comes back and opens the door, gesturing for him to come in. He does and the page leaves, closing the door behind them. The room is barely light, but he can tell that it is richly decorated with tapestries and shields, no doubt a high ceiling and windows, currently closed, along the top. As he approaches the other end of the room, which has a couple candles light, he notes that five thrones are set up on the dais at the front in the candle light area; the middle two are filled.

The floor is marble, cold to the touch as he kneels, right knee on the floor and the left raised, bending from the waist so his forehead is parallel with the floor, right hand open over heart, elbow tucked to the side, while the left arm is pressed into the small of his back. The bow of a commoner to their king.

“Rise,” his king orders. Virgil does, standing at attention, hand and arms still pressed to his body. King Benjamin sits on the right middle throne, gold metal and light blue cushions. He has cedar brown hair with streaks of grey and navy blue eyes. He’s wearing an ocean depth blue coat lined in cloud white, with a sky blue ruffled shirt underneath and pants that match his coat color. His crown rests regally on his head, gold with the rainbow of colored jewels inlaid into it, gleaming in the candlelight.

Next to the King is the King’s consort, King Noah, in a matching throne. He wasn’t the first consort, the King married him a year after the Queen died in childbirth. Everyone knew he and the King were in love even though he married the former Queen, which was an arranged marriage neither ruler enjoyed. He has ink black hair with shocks of grey through it and dark chocolate brown eyes. He’s wearing a wet ash coat with gold buttons and matching pants with a scarlet red ruffled shirt underneath. His crown is the same as his husband’s, except it has pure white jewels instead of the rainbow of jewels.

“Virgil Dragan?” his King inquires.

“That is my name Your Majesties.”

“Good. We hope you did not have to travel too much?”

“Not too far Your Majesties, it was a two day ride.”

“Ah. And where is your horse then?”

“She is resting in the Dragonfly Inn’s stables.”

“And your bags?”

“In my room at the inn.”

“Dear, he has just arrived, tell him why he is here,” King Noah suggests.

“Of course sweetheart. Dragan, we summoned you here to take over as Prince Remus’ tailor.”

The Prince Remus? Second heir to the throne? Twin to the Crown Prince Roman? That Prince?!

“I- this is- Me, Your Majesties?”

“Yes you.”

Virgil grasps for words that seem to flee from him. “I- this- May I ask why?”

“Your record precedes you. Fast with the needle, quality product, can patch a piece without anyone ever knowing there was a patch there. All things needed in a tailor for Remus.”

“I- What happened to the past tailor?”

“He quit.”

“Oh.”

“It was not for lack of talent, Pierre Moldav is a wonderful tailor, however he could not keep up with my son’s demands and... eccentricities.”

Oh the tales he’s heard of Prince Remus’ eccentricities. Wild with any weapon, chaos embodied, a demon child some claim. Letting loose the King’s hounds into the palace proper, showering mud onto unsuspecting servants, keeping flesh-eating pets in his private quarters. Some tales must be exaggerated, but perhaps not.

“The pay is thirty pieces of gold a month,” King Noah adds.

Thirty pieces of gold?! That could easily buy him a full home in the city and feed him for a year! “I accept the position,” Virgil says, trying to remember to use Elite instead of his own Common Talk. 

“Good. We will have a guard take you and your things to your rooms tomorrow. They will show you the palace and tell you everything you will need to know. You start the day after morrow. You will reside at your inn tonight.”

“Thank you, Your Majesties, but where will my horse reside?”

“She may reside with the other horses in the stables.”

“Thank you, Your Majesties.”

“You may take your leave Dragan.”

“Thank you, Your Majesties.” He bows, bending at the waist and holding for ten, then leaves through the doors.

The next day, as he sits in his room patching up the innkeeper Joan’s bright sun 

orange knit hat they always seem to wear, a knock sounds on his door. He sets aside the work—only needs a few more stitches—and answers the door.

A knight in leaf green tunic and pants with silver armor stands outside his door. He has an intricate scabbard for a falchion. The green and silver means he’s Prince Remus’ guard, and is definitely  a master with the falchion. “Dragan?”

“Virgil Dragan, yes.”

“I’m Corbin Terrence, Prince Remus’ personal guard. I’ll show you around the palace and help with any bags you have.” 

“Oh thanks,” Virgil says. “Come on in, I just need to finish something and then we can go.” Corbin walks in and stands by the closed door while Virgil finishes Joan’s hat and finishes packing everything. Once he’s ready he says, “Alright, I’ll take these two bags, if you could take those two we can load them onto my horse.”

“I have a horse as well, so I can put my two on it and your two can go on your horse.”

“Nice.”

Virgil and Corbin leave with his bags, Virgil stopping briefly to pay Joan and give them their hat. The two men work quickly to attach his bags to their horses and then they leave, Corbin leading the way to the palace while Virgil and Void, his horse, trail him. They pass through the open gates and only stop once they reach the stables. Corbin takes the bags off the two horses while Virgil fills the groompeople in on Void’s handling, recommending they don’t try to ride her as she hates most people.

Then Corbin leads him to his rooms with his bags in tow. Virgil notes in the back of his head to find time to go back home and gather the rest of his things, but he has everything he needs for a week so he can figure that out later. His rooms are not bad, two workrooms in the front, obviously meant for a tailor with all the work tables, cupboards, and cabinets, a fitting room, a bedroom well enough furnished, and a washroom off of the bedroom. 

“I’ll be back in an hour,” Corbin says. “In the meantime get settled in.”

“Thank you.” Virgil unpacks his clothes and personal stuff, setting it all up in his bedroom. Then he takes his three other bags and starts setting up his workspace, putting the fabrics he brought in with the other fabrics in the cabinets and putting away his tools. Then he stares down the tables. They’re all pushed to the sides, and he needs them moved. 

Sighing, he shrugs off his personal bag and decides where each table is going to go. The longest one will be the one closest to his fabric, the one that’s more of an end table will go by the door, and the twin tables will intersect the longest table and parallel each other. 

Once he knows where they will go, he gets ready to start moving them. Choosing to deal with the longest one first, he starts pulling it away from the wall when his door bursts open. Virgil yelps and jumps a bit, accidentally shifting the table against himself so now he’s trapped between the table and the wall.

“WHERE’S THE GUY?!” someone screeches, clomping in with what sound like thick heeled boots. The person walks to the center of the room, looking around the room in thought. They’re dressed in an ink black suit with puffy sleeves and edged in a sickening bright fresh grass green plus silver accents. Obsidian black leather boots with what has to be about three inch full foot heels confirm what Virgil thought he was wearing. A morning star hangs from their belt with a well worn handle. They have burnt bread colored hair that contrasts with their pale as a corpse skin tone, not born from staying out of the sun but somehow natural.

Green and black and silver, plus a morning star.

Prince Remus....

The Prince turns around and grins. He has a dyed silver lock that drapes itself over his forehead, his eyes an almost glowing brilliant green, the likes of which Virgil has never seen before. “Aww you’re better looking than the last guy, that’s good. He had this weird thing with weak shoulders and definitely was a drunk, you don’t look like a drunk though so that’s good! I mean I don’t mind my clothes coming back smelling like alcohol but Dee doesn’t. He said I should wait to say hi but I think now’s the perf-”

“Remus dear, let the poor man collect his thoughts,” a new person suggests, sweeping into his room. They’re dressed in a form-fitting coal black jacket edged in lemon yellow, matching lemon gloves, black pants, and sleek obsidian black ankle boots plus a slim, purposefully tarnished gold crown nestled in the person’s honey brown hair. They have sun kissed skin with a hazel brown birthmark that covers the entire left side of the person’s face, dividing it from their hairline to their chin. A pale pink scar runs from the person’s left side lips, across their cheek, and ending at the base of their ear. Their eyes are an addicting carmel, deep and intense and mesmerizing. 

Prince Remus’ consort, Prince Dee, from the kingdom Keagl.

He kisses his husband’s cheek and approaches Virgil, who is staring in shock at the royalty in his room. “Hello lovely, I believe we have not introduced ourselves. I am Prince Dee, and he is Prince Remus. You are?”

“I- I’m- uh, that is- I am Virgil. Virgil Dragan.”

“Ooooo he can speak Elite! And barely an accent too!” Prince Remus crows, bouncing over to the side of his husband. 

“Vir-gil,” Prince Dee sounds through, savoring each syllable. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks- I mean, thank you Your Highness.” He curses himself out in his head, when addressing royalty or any elites he has to speak Elite!

“Now, as it appears you are trapped behind this table... Remus dear?”

Prince Remus grins and with one tug at the side of the table, moves it more than Virgil was able to. “There ya go Virgie!”

“Thank you, Your Highnesses,” Virgil replies, moving to perform the same bow he did with the Kings, but a hand on his shoulder stops him and pushes him back up right. 

“That will not be necessary Virgil,” Prince Dee says, his husband, who’s hand is still on his shoulder, nodding his head in agreement. 

“We don’t really do that whole bowing thing,” Prince Remus adds.

“Or titles. We do not do titles.” 

“Alright Your- uh, sires?”

Prince Dee sighs. “If you must, very well.”

“What do you need from me sires?” Virgil asks, regaining his footing in the conversation.

“I just wanted to meet you, the last tailor was such a prick, I gotta make sure that our new one is actually good.” Prince Remus bounds across the room to look through his drawers. Only now is Virgil starting to notice that Prince Remus talks in Common Talk, but Prince Dee talks in Elite.

“Pardon my asking, but could you not have simply requested my presence?” 

“Hmm, I could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?” 

“I- uh-” He decides to focus on something else. “I was told I am to be Prince Remus’ tailor, am I also yours?” he asks Prince Dee.

“Oh, yes I quite forgot. My tailor is the same as Remus’, to make sure our clothes match I believe. The Kings often forget to mention that, I am terribly sorry for any inconvenience that might give you.”

“I- no, no that shouldn’t be a problem.” Wait-

“Before you start panicking, please know that myself and Remus do not mind you speaking in Common Talk around us. You do not have to fear any punishment from either of us for doing so.” Virgil relaxes at that. “I will warn you though, the Crown Prince is very... uptight,” Dee sneers, “about language, so if you are ever near him without one of us around, do not speak Common at all.”

“I- thank you.”

Dee inclines his head. “It is nothing, simply advice. You may continue arranging your room now Virgil, I am here to watch over Remus.”

Virgil decides there’s no good response, so he nods and begins to tug the bottom half of the table away from the wall. He can feel Prince Dee’s eyes on his back as he slowly makes progress getting the table away from the wall, and it sets his anxiety buzzing, but he tries to ignore it. 

That is, until... “Darling, a bit of help?”

And suddenly Prince Remus is on the other side and is pulling the table away from the wall in one fell swoop. “Where ya want this Virgie?”

“Oh um, parallel to the fabric cabinets, please?”

“Okey dokey, grab that end.” Virgil complies, grabbing the head of the table as Prince Remus grabs the other one. “On the count of two we’ll lift it up and carry its spot. Ready?”

“Sure?”

“Okay! One, two!” They lift up and they move it over by the cabinets, pushing and prodding it until it’s exactly where Virgil wants it.

“Thank you for that,” Virgil says sincerely.

“Aww anytime Virgie! Where you want the others?”

And so, Virgil finds himself moving his tables with Prince Remus while Prince Dee looks on and comments on whether it looks straight enough. Once they’re done, he and the Princes chat a small bit, but then Prince Dee notices the time and makes Prince Remus leave so he won’t be late to something, promising to meet with Virgil tomorrow for... something else? He has no idea, but his life won’t be dull with those two in his life. 

Virgil perches himself on top of the longest table and surveys his room with wonder. All he needs is his wheel, loom, and lacing and it’ll feel like home.

Chapter Text

1579 I

Crown Prince Roman

Virgil liked to say he could sleep through anything, but in reality he could pick and choose what he woke up to and what he slept through. He rarely dreamed, more often than not lucid dreaming where most noises in the real came through in the dream, or spent time in the darkness that was his mind, more often than not hearing the louder noises and nothing more. However, when he heard a door open in the darkness, he knew he needed to wake up. Now.

So that’s just what he does, he comes back to the real and gets out of bed, shoving on some pants under his oversized night shirt before quietly opening his bedroom door to peer out into his fitting room. 

It’s lit by a single candle, illuminating two figures he knows by heart.

“Remus? Dee?” he whispers quietly. 

“Vee?” a pitiful voice asks. Virgil’s heart stutters at that. Remus should not sound pitiful, he shouldn’t sound so broken as he does with just that one word, that one nickname.

He walks over, quietly as possible, and sits down next to Dee, who has Remus curled up in his lap. Remus’ face is glistening with tears, as one of Dee’s hands cards slowly through his hair. “What happened Re?” he asks softly, carefully rubbing circles into his crush’s back. 

It’s his other crush, Dee, who explains though. “Ben and Noah, they…” he takes a shaky breath, so unlike Dee that Virgil has to resist the urge to hug him close and never let go. “They were in that ambush... they got hurt...”

“And Emile has them in stable condition, right?”

“Em-” he chokes on his words, having to restart. “Emile had them, but... but it turned for the worse, there must have been internal bleeding Emile didn’t know about because Ben’s dead.”

Dead.

The word rings in Virgil’s ears. Memories burst into his mind. Just like when the village doctor pronounced his mother dead in their house, just like his brother had pronounced their father dead on the road, just like the healers had pronounced his brother dead in the hospital. 

Dead because of the illness.

Dead because of those bandits.

Dead because of falling.

Dead dead dead and now this.

Now the King.

Dead.

He doesn’t know how long the three of them spend on the floor of their fitting room, how long they cried into each others’ chests and hair, how long Dee run his fingers through Remus and Virgil’s hair, how long Virgil rubbed circles into Dee and Remus’ backs, how long Remus clung to Virgil and Dee’s shirts. All he knows is that when the candle starts sputtering, he slowly pulls the other two to their feet and guides them into his bedroom. All he knows is that they arranged themselves into his bed meant for two people, Remus curled up between Dee and Virgil. All he knows is that they fell asleep like that, tears still drying on their faces.

The next morning Virgil wakes up with one arm thrown across his hip and two hands curled up in his shirt. He blinks his eyes open to see a still-passed-out Remus curled up under his chin and the love-filled carmel eyes of Dee gazing down at the two of them. He can feel his left arm going numb, noting that it’s under Remus’ head and his hand is cupping Dee’s right cheek, while his right arm rests on Remus’ waist.

“Good morning Vee,” Dee whispers, voice a bit scratchy and less smooth than it normally is. 

“Morning Dee,” Virgil whispers back, blushing badly.

“G’morin’ hearts,” Remus mutters, half asleep.

Hearts? ‘Heart’ is a nickname Remus uses for Dee, his way of saying Dee is his heart. But ‘hearts’, plural?

Dee sighs and the thumb on his hip, Dee’s thumb, on his hip starts to massage small circles into his hip. He must have noticed Virgil’s confusion. “We, both myself and Remus, like you Vee. And I don’t expect you to-”

A knock at the door. It comes from his fabric room, so it must be a guard or page knocking at his outermost door. 

“We’ll talk later,” he whispers to Dee, quickly extracting himself from the two people he likes and who like him back apparently, moving to go to see who is knocking. Pausing in the fitting room, he tosses his cloak and his only other blanket to a corner, in case anyone sees the Princes and then asks where he slept.

Opening the door, he’s as ready as he’ll ever be.

There, in front of him, is Crown Prince Roman, his adviser Logan, and his guard Sloane. Roman is as ever in his snow white jacket, which contrasts his lightly tanned skin, with his scarlet red sash all edged in gold, his matching white pants, polished raven black boots, and well-cared for katana scabbard. His chestnut brown hair carries a bright gold crown with red jewels, his shining amber, almost red, eyes red rimmed for once. 

Logan is dressed in his navy blue jacket with coattails edged in coal black, matching black pants and shoes, and black glasses perched on his nose. His ink black hair is gelled back as ever, however his dark ocean blue eyes are also red rimmed, highly unusual for the man. His pale skin, from spending so much of his time inside, is normal though.

Sloane is in his usual scarlet red tunic and gold armor, matching red pants, with his willow leaf sabre in its scabbard. His charcoal black hair is cut as close to his head as always, skin the color of dark olive oil a shade lighter than normal, his warm wood brown eyes on unusually high alert.

Immediately he falls into his bow, saying, “Your Highness.”

“Rise,” Crown Prince Roman orders. He does. “Dragan, are my brother and his husband here?”

“Yes Your Highness.” 

“I will see them.”

“Of course Your Highness.” Virgil opens his door wider and allows all three to enter. He closes his door after them and leads the group to his bedroom, where Dee is holding Remus under the blanket. He must have moved it when he heard his brother-in-law talking, as it’s arranged in such a way that it looks like there were only two people in the bed, instead of the three that it had held. 

“Remus, Dee,” the Crown Prince addresses.

“Roman,” Dee states. 

“What is wrong with Remus now?”

“He is sleeping, he needs it.”

The Crown Prince sighs. “Very well I will speak to you. Dragan?”

“Yes Your Highness?”

“You will leave.”

Virgil has nowhere to go, this is his room and he’s still in his night clothes, but he replies anyway with, “Yes Your Highness.”

Dee’s face twists in thought. “Oh Virgil?”

“Yes?”

The Crown Prince opens his mouth but Dee is quicker. “Will you go to our rooms? I know Remus ripped another shirt of his but I do not remember which one. When you find it, I believe that would grant Roman plenty of time to talk so do come back here once you have it.”

Virgil nods, understanding what he’s really saying. “Sure.” Then he leaves, stopping to grab his cloak in the fitting room and his bag in the fabric room before heading to Dee and Remus’ room. He’s been to it many times before, for fittings or requests or really whenever they ask him to come, which is at least twice a week. What Dee really meant was for Virgil to go to his friends’ rooms and stay there until fifteen minutes have passed, then return.

So that’s what he did. He did go through their clothes while he waited, just in case there were rips he needed to deal with, but mostly he just waited until it had been fifteen minutes. 

What he didn’t count on was Remus and Dee coming back before the fifteen minutes were over. 

“HOW DARE HE?!” Remus yells as soon as Dee closes the door behind him. “I should hit him for that!”

“Remus? Dee?”

“Hang on Vee,” Dee soothes. He turns to Remus, who is picking up more and more deadly looking weapons. “Remus, if you need to beat something up do it in your weapons room, I’d rather you didn’t break our bed.”

Remus huffs but grabs his morning star and a wicked-looking cat o’ nine tails, then stalks off into a room that Virgil’s never been in. He slams the door closed, causing Virgil to flinch.

“Why- is he- what, what exactly happened?”

Dee sighs, collapsing on he and Remus’ bed. “C’mon up here Vee,” he invites, patting the silken sheets next to him. Virgil slowly gets up from the chair he’s been sitting in for the past couple minutes, and walks over to the elegant bed, carefully perching himself on the very edge of the bed. Another sigh and Dee pulls him over and back, so Virgil’s lying next to Dee as they stare up at the smokey black ceiling.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Roman yelled at us for letting you talk to us in Common and without titles-”

“I’m sorr-”

“No, no,” he waves his finger at Virgil, “you have nothing to apologize for. We told you that you could, you’ve been doing it for two years, there’s nothing to apologize for. Anyways, then he sobered up and said Ben died first, from blood loss, and Noah died an hour later from internal bleeding.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “Then he yelled at us for running away after Ben’s death, and even more for going to your rooms instead of our own.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Like I said, we both like you. In a romantic sense. I understand if you don’t-”

Virgil leans over and kisses him on the lips, lightly, barely there, but a kiss nonetheless. “Good because I’ve had a crush on both of you for the longest time.”

Dee blushes lightly but smiles. “When Remus comes back we are having a proper discussion okay?”

“Sounds good Dee.”

“Lovely,” he whispers. Then, in a normal talking voice he continues. “Anyways, we went to you because no one would bother us and I knew you’d be able to help us.”

“Aww Dee, of course I would.”

“Shh sweetheart, let me continue.” The lightness of his tone highlights his playfulness in those words. Virgil nearly shivers at the way the ease of the endearment slips out of Dee’s mouth. “Roman really pissed us off and so we kicked them out of your rooms and then left too. Remus deals with his anger with destruction, I through revenge or refocusing the energy. And that’s how we got here.”

“So Remus is breaking things?”

“Indeed.”

“Well, while we wait, did the prince mention when the funeral and coronation are?”

Dee sighs. “Vee, you’re off of work right now.”

“I know but there’s not much to do until Remus is done. I know the funeral clothes will all have to be black and white, but I need your thoughts for the design.”

Another sigh, but Dee does cave. “Fine. The funeral will be held in three days, the coronation undecided as of yet. Tradition calls for it to be less than a month from the death date, so Roman and Logan have their work cut out for themselves.”

“Agreed. I’m glad I’m normally busy with your things, otherwise the other tailors might try to drag me in to help them.”

Dee smiles a little. “I’ll be sure to keep you from that. As for my clothes, it needs to be like my usual, form fitting and elegant, however it does need to be modest compared to my normal layers and patterns.”

Virgil pulls out his sketchbook and pencil, and begins sketching. They decide on a snow white silk button-up shirt with two ruffles, an ink black snakeskin patterned vest, and a raven black jacket in his normal cloth. His pants will be as normal, matching the jacket, with soft snow white silk gloves. His cloak will be ink black, to match his vest that will off set his jacket nicely. 

“And I can’t do anything without Remus’ approval, however thoughts?” Virgil asks.

“Definitely less eye catching than normal, and it has to be proper. He’ll want his sleeves to stay though, if he can help it.”

Virgil sighs. “Those sleeves take me hours to cut and stitch together at the best of times.”

“I know, at least it can’t have glitter on it?”

“There’s a blessing.”

They lapse into silence, just staring up at the ceiling, until Virgil notices that Dee is still in his night things. A quiet lemon yellow undershirt and coal dust black pants, no shoes in sight. Same as Vee, to be fair. A worn lavender oversized shirt and ash colored pants are all he has on, plus his bag that’s laying by a chair. “Did Corbin wake you up to see the Kings or what?” he asks.

“Corbin was woken up by a page sent by Roman, and he got us up just in time to wait an hour to watch Remus’ father slowly die in front of him.”

“What about Thomas?” Remus and Dee have brought the youngest prince to meet Virgil before, and they’ve hit it off easily. Though he hates to say it, Thomas fills a hole in his heart he always longed for: a younger brother.

“He saw too.”

The heartbreak in Dee’s voice is all Virgil needs to hear to know Thomas is not doing well. “Remy and Emile?”

“I don’t know.”

The silence fills the room, though if he strains he can hear a faint crash from the room Remus went into. 

After a while, Remus exits the room, without his weapons. He strips out of his shirt, mossy green, and lays down on the other side of Dee. “Does Vee know?”

“He does.”

“And?”

“He feels the same,” Dee says with a smile.

“Oof , is it the relationship talk now?”

“Yes love,” Dee says, sitting up. Virgil groans and decides to stay down. “You too sweetheart. Both of you need to sit up, this is important.”

Remus groans and sits up, shuffling back until he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed. “Fiiiiiiiiiine.”

“Come along sweetheart.” Dee picks up Virgil and sets him next to Remus before sitting in front of the two. “Alright, correct me if I’m wrong, but we all have romantic attraction to each other.”

“Correct.”

“Yep!”

“And I know that also includes sexual attraction towards both of you from me.”

“Oh yeah same here,” Remus says.

“Same, for both of you,” Virgil confirms.

“Okay, then do we want to become a closed polyamorus relationship?”

“Closed, like it’s just us three?” Virgil shifts a bit, fiddling with his fingers.

Janus grabs one of Virgil’s hands, holding it in his while Remus grabs the other. “Yes. Just us three. Are you okay with that love?”

Virgil nods, smiling. “Yeah, I’m more than okay with that.”

They discussed their boundaries for while, Virgil putting down that he’s not comfortable having sex yet, which his new lovers accpet without fuss. Then they agree to not be open about their relationship yet, due in part to the closeness to the death of the Kings and in part that the publicity of it might put too much pressure on a new relationship. And as Dee says, “Remus and I knew each other and dated for years before coming out. We were forced to get married right after, and while I don’t mind it-”

“-I’d rather have done it at our own pace,” Remus finishes.

So they elect to keep it quiet for now. Take things slow, do it at the pace they are all on. They make out after the talk, enjoying the taste of each other. Virgil has to leave a bit after that, so they could all get ready for the day.

He puts on his normal clothes, a plum purple long sleeve shirt with an ash dust vest and charcoal black pants, and after popping into the kitchen for breakfast, a piece of bread with butter and an apple, starts working on Dee’s clothes for the funeral. He makes a note to talk with Remus about his clothes, because he forgot to ask him with everything else that had happened.

Someone knocks on his door and he calls out, “Come in,” while pulling out fabrics he’ll  need.

“Hey Vee!” Remus yells, bouncing in. He’s in his usual, an ink black jacket, with sequined puffy sleeves, edged in silver with an unnaturally green sash, ink black pants, shiny onyx black platform boots, and his morning star tied to his side. 

“Hey Remus, whatcha here for?”

“Dee told me I should go to you for design input,” he explains, sitting up on an empty table. 

“Good, I knew I needed to get that done today.” Virgil makes his way over to Remus, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before passing to grab his sketchbook and a pencil. “Now, keep in mind this is for the Kings’ funeral, so it can’t be extra like you normally are.”

Remus pouts but agrees. They spend the next hour fighting over designs and colors, Remus wanting to wear his dad’s light blue but Virgil having to enforce the strict no colors but black and white, and Remus insisting on his puffy sleeves and Virgil reminding him of the modesty to be shown.

Finally, they agree to a rabbit white button-up shirt with two ruffles, a coal black jacket edged in snow white, no coattails, with silver buttons and matching pants. His cloak will be raven black, to give a slight contrast to his jacket. 

“What about you though Vee? What’re you gonna wear?”

“Hmm?” Virgil looks up from his layout of Remus’ jacket. “Oh me? I’ll probably edit my mourning clothes so they’re worthy of royalty, but I’m not making something new.”

“Why do you have mourning clothes though?”

He sets down his chalk, memories flickering through his vision, blurring the lines he’s making. “I uh... I need to go,” he manages to say before racing off to his bedroom, sliding down and leaning against his door, trying to regulate his breathing as visions of his dead loved ones swim in front of him. His mom dead on the bed, his father dead on the road, his brother dead on the thin cot that was his bed for weeks.

A voice filters through the door, through his memories, calling his name pleadingly and counting out a beat. He latches on to the voice, uses its counting to steady his breathing. After he finally manages to get his breathing right, and has the memories of bodies of his loved ones are pushed back to the far corners of his mind, he reaches up and opens the door. Remus is there, and he willingly crumples into his arms. They’re warm, wrapping around his back and holding him close. 

Chapter Text

1579 II

King Roman

As all Isleseni royal funerals are, the Kings’ funeral is held on the cliffs. King Benjamin and King Noah lay side by side on their polished wooden boat, just touching the salty waves of the ocean. Two torches stand watch, one on either side of the boat. The Kings’ personal knights, Evan and Connor, stand watch over the boat, their last duty to their Kings. After this they’ll be given a month off and then they can choose to serve one of the other royals or they can do something else. They will be the last to wear the Kings’ colors, Evan in Ben’s light blue and Connor in Noah’s dark grey. The only two allowed to wear colors besides black and white. 

Virgil can’t allow himself to look away. He knows how much the Kings meant to those two, and vise versa. Evan hasn’t been speaking at all since their deaths, his husband having to speak for him. Connor hasn’t been eating enough either. Patton, the head of the kitchen and father figure to almost everyone, has been bringing the broken hearted couple food to their rooms, and when he goes to grab the plates, there is always food leftover. He understands that feeling, having had to nurse himself back from that over and over again. 

All the royals, advisers, knights, and palace staff stand closest to the cliffs, the villagers and townspeople gather behind them or on the rocky beach, far away from the knights and the boat. Virgil’s dressed in his mourning clothes, ink black long sleeve shirt with an ash black vest, raven black jacket edged in cloud white and matching black pants. His cloak is ash black, guarding him from the chill of the harsh ocean.

He can see his lovers, Remus and Dee, standing next to Crown Prince Roman and Thomas, plus their guards, at the very edge of the cliffs. They’re a couple feet from the edge, but it’s the closest anyone besides the Hansens will get to the Kings. Remus has his morning star at his side while Dee has a rapier. Elliott, Dee’s knight, is in the typical knight mourning wear, a coal dust black tunic and pants with silver armor, an Ottaman sabre strapped to their side. It goes well with their raven black hair, dark umber brown eyes, and worn paper colored skin. 

The Crown Prince has his katana at his side and Sloane with his willow leaf sabre. Thomas has a militia jian on his side and a raven black cloak. Virgil can’t see from where he is, but he knows it goes well with Thomas’ milk chocolate hair, with his crown that matches Dee’s, cedar wood eyes, and tanned skin. His knight, Remy, has his side sword at his side and his metal reinforced wooden bo staff strapped to his back with the usual coal black cloak. His carmel coffee brown hair is messy as always, his striking silver eyes hidden away with his usual black tinted glasses.

“How are you doing kiddo?” Patton asks. He and Emile, the head healer, are standing next to Virgil. Patton is in a simple ink black jacket and pants with a coal black cloak, a stark contrast to his chestnut hair, sky blue eyes framed by circle frame glasses, and tanned skin. Emile is in a fitted white shirt with an obsidian black jacket and pants, plus a coal black cloak. It’s very different from his healer clothes, and looks out of place with his applewood hair and hazel brown eyes.

Virgil shrugs, feeling the cold starting to seep into his skin but he can’t find the will to care.

“Emile?”

The normally bright and cheerful man is staring out at the rough waves, fresh tear tracts running down his face. He doesn’t reply to Patton’s use of his name, just keeps staring off into the horizon. Patton wraps an arm around the healer’s shoulders, blinking back his tears too. 

Virgil can see Remy looking back at the crowd, looking for his husband. He’s scanning it, and when their eyes meet Virgil nods towards Emile and Patton. The knight bites his lip and looks over at the other knights before turning to Thomas and whispering something to him. Thomas looks over and then looks at Remy. He whispers something back and goes over to Crown Prince Roman while Remy heads over to them.

Patton lets go of Emile and immediately Remy sweeps his husband up into his arms. The two hug each other tightly, the first reaction Virgil’s seen from Emile today.

“Don’t you need to protect ’omas?” Emile’s voice is rough and slurred slightly, but he does talk.

“Thomas is by Roman, he’ll be fine without me for now.”

Virgil cracks a smile. Remy, who normally has an issue with the Crown Prince, is just tossing that aside for his husband. 

Soon the proper time arrives, the sun’s rays beginning to be seen but not the actual sun. Remy kisses Emile lovingly before rejoining Thomas. Crown Prince Roman steps closer to the cliff’s edge, the Princes and their knights moving away so he has the spotlight on him. 

“King Benjamin, first born of Marc and Julie.” A pause, to let the words float down to the boat. “King Noah, second child of Abbie and George.” He pauses again. “Spouses to each other, fathers to my brothers and I, friends to many, kind rulers to us all.” Virgil can see him steady himself, readying himself for the ritual words. “May your bodies find peace. May your souls walk the world untethered. May the ocean’s water carry you, may the sky’s wind lift you, may the land’s earth hold steady beneath you, may the light’s fire free you. Vale .”

“ Vale ,” Virgil repeats with the crowd. 

He knows the Hansens will be lowering their torch to the side of their King, that the fire will catch on the ring of fuel placed so the boat will burn to ashes, that once the fire has caught they will push the boat out into the ocean. As he watches, the boat appears from under the cliff, sailing out towards the horizon, flames high already. And as he sheds his tears, the sun crests the horizon, bathing everything it’s violently warm oranges and yellows, eclipsing the aflame boat.

They stand there for a while, watching as the sun breaks from the horizon and slowly begins its climb across the sky. Once the boat has disappeared, either because it’s ashes or because it’s floated too far for it to be seen, the crowd slowly disperses. Patton wraps Virgil in a side arm hug then leaves. Emile stays next to Virgil, not saying a word. They just stand there, staring off at the horizon, watching the royals and their knights. 

Eventually Thomas crumbles to the ground and then everyone left runs to him. He’s sobbing, choking on his tears and ragged breathing. His brothers and Dee wrap him in a hug, the Crown Prince for once kneeling in the grass and dirt without regard for his pure white pants. Both twins are crying just as much as their younger brother, breaking down in each other’s arms. It’s the most human he’s seen Roman act, and he can’t help but feel like he’s intruding on something incredibly private. Dee’s crying, but it’s silent, shuddering shoulders as he clings to the others but making no noise. 

He wants to back away, wants to give them the privacy it feels like they should get, but then Thomas is reaching out and he can see others being pulled in and Remus is grabbing his hand and pulling him into the emotional hug and Remus is crying into his tunic while Dee tucks his head into Thomas’ shoulder and Virgil can feel Roman’s shaking form against his back and he just lets it out.

Roman starts staying around him, will just slip into his work room and watch him as he works on Remus’ many torn pieces. Somedays he’ll talk to Virgil, and he’ll reply back, and others they just spend an hour not talking but being around each other. It starts to turn into a hesitant friendship, between Virgil and Roman. Because he’s Roman now, not the Crown Prince or soon-to-be King. Neither one mentions the broken cries they unleashed after the funeral. But the thought lingers in Virgil’s mind, how fragile Roman sounded, how devastated and ruined his cries were.

Dee and Remus don’t talk about it either, and Virgil doesn’t bring it up. They kiss and cuddle when they can, staying up late together and just talking, or do their own thing sometimes. Whatever they do, it’s reassuring to do it with each other.

The end of the month looms closer and closer, until it’s the day of the coronation. Roman’s coronation. 

Two hours away from it and Virgil’s tempted to scream even though he has ten pins in his mouth. Remus’ sleeves are too small for his arms and Virgil can’t just make new sleeves that will be ready in two hours, not with the obnoxious puffy parts that are the only parts that fit. 

“Spiderling? What are you doing here?” Dee asks from behind Virgil. 

He spits out the pins and answers, staring at the outfit on the dummy. “Remus fucking grew more muscules between his last fitting and now so the sleeves don’t fit and yes I’m still in my work clothes and yes the coronation is in two hours and no I can’t make new sleeves, that was the last of the fabric!”

Dee sighs, and slides his arms around Virgil’s waist. “Where is our little octopus?”

Leaning into the touch, Virgil sighs in defeat. “I sent him to grab my black lace, I don’t actually need it but I know he needed something to do.”

“Well,” Dee muses, pausing to press a light kiss to Virgil’s cheek, “is there a rule saying he has to have full sleeves?”

“No…”

“Then let him have his poofed sleeves and edge it in the lace.”

Virgil’s eyes light up and he can see exactly what Dee means. “Dee you’re a genius!” 

He starts to chuckle but Virgil just spins around, aggressively kisses him on the lips, then runs out of his frozen arms and races to his bag. “If I just cut the sleeves off, clean the edges up enough that I can add the lace and make it look nice, then add some of the lace to the top of the sash so it looks intentional....” He trails off, attacking the outfit with fever, not paying attention to the bright tomato red blush breaking out on Dee’s face. 

Soon after that, Remus runs in with the lace. “I’m back!”

“Perfect!” Virgil replies, finishing hand sewing the edges up. “Gimme the lace and get changed, I’ll need you in it to make sure the lace will work.” Remus nods happily and grabs the outfit, rushing to his washroom. Virgul turns to Dee, who is still standing behind him with a blush. “Dee you need to get changed!”

“But- you- you fucking kissed me!”

“I do that a lot, you can’t be surprised.” 

“Y- well- but- It was aggressive!” 

“Oh, did I go too far?” Virgil’s worried, Dee normally doesn’t get flustered or trip over his words.

“Too far?! That’sss bloody arousssing isss what it isss!” Dee rants, slipping into his Keaglian accent. Virgil blushes and flaps his hand at Dee in response.

“Just- just get changed!” he squeaks out. “Your accent is too hot right now!”

Then Remus bursts back in. “Alrighty VeeVee, hit me with the lace!”

Dee ducks out of the room with his coronation clothes while Virgil refocuses on pinning the lace to the cuffs to the poofy sleeves. He does his best to be quick, then has Remus look at it. “Like it?”

“It’s perfect spider web!” Remus exclaims.

“Great, then hold still, I’ll have to sew it on with you in it.” It’s hard and takes him more time than he would have liked, but the lace is sewn on and Remus wasn’t pricked enough to draw blood. “All done.”

“Good, now as much as I want you here you need to get changed,” Dee says from his vanity. 

“Aww c’mon snake-”

“Sires?” Elliott asks, poking their head in, “The coronation is in less than an hour, the Crown Prince is asking for you.”

“Shit!” 

Virgil stands next to Patton, Emile, and Logan, close to the front but not close enough that they could be mistaken for nobles. He’s dressed in a fitted stormcloud grey button up with two ruffles, a plum purple jacket edged in midnight black with bone buttons he’d bought years ago, and sleek midnight black pants. His shoes are polished obsidian black. 

Logan is dressed in a brilliant white button up with two ruffles, a navy blue jacket with coattails edged in coal black and gleaming gold buttons, matching black pants and shoes, and black glasses perched on his nose. 

Patton is wearing a cloud white button up shirt without a ruffle, a dust grey vest, and a baby blue open jacket, not buttoned up along the sides like the others, edged in a matching white. His pants are a sandy tan color, with shiny raven black shoes like the ones Logan is wearing. His black wire frame glasses look especially well cleaned, considering he was in the kitchen less than twenty minutes ago and no doubt had flour on them.

Emile has a pale rose pink button up with two ruffles, a warm sandy tan colored jacket with the same pale pink edging it plus pearl buttons. His pants match the jacket, his shoes the same as the others’, thin boxy copper glasses settled on his nose.

“What took you so long to get here kiddo?” Patton asks.

“Sorry, Remus grew muscle so we had to edit his outfit. I really hope it doesn’t come back to bite me…”

“Well knowing Remus, as long as it causes a scene with the nobles he’ll be happy,” Emile giggles.

Virgil joins in. “Well it’s definitely out there....”

“If Dee approved it then I am sure it cannot be too terrible,” Logan comments.

“Thanks Logan.”

The trumpeter announces the royal family. First to enter is Thomas, Remy staged just a few steps behind him. Thomas looks great in his snow white button up with at least three ruffles, a twilight blue jacket edged in a grey-blue with tastefully tarnished gold buttons, matching dark blue pants, and shining ebony black shoes. His slim tarnished gold crown rests on his hair, glinting in the morning light.

Remy is in a deep oaken brown tunic with midnight black pants and purposefully tarnished gold armor, weapons strapped on as always.

The two are approaching the thrones, which are now just four. The one in center, the one to be Roman’s, is gold metal with scarlet cushions. The one to his left is silver and leaf green, the one next to that bronze and a calming yellow. To Roman’s throne’s right is a tarnished gold with light pink.

Thomas stands in front of his throne, Remy two steps behind him, then the doors open to let in the next people.

Remus and Dee. Dee looks smooth as ever, an ash grey shirt with four ruffles, an ink black jacket with coattails is edged in a mellow lemon yellow plus matching yellow buttons, pants the same black, and rabbit white silk gloves. His shoes are polish obsidian, done in the style of his former country with a slight inch heel. Nestled in his hair is his slim tarnished gold crown. He looks sleek and intimidating, a smile halfway between smirk and actually happy. And then there’s Remus.

Remus is wearing a coal black suit-like top, with silver lining it. His poofy sleeves, which are dark moss green with black netting over them capped in off-color fresh green, end in a thin line of black net-like lace at the middle of his upper arm. A sash the same color as all his other sashes wraps around him like normal, however instead of the usual straps holding the sah in place, there’s black lace made to look like netting there. His fitted pants are solid coal black, his shoes three inch platform shiny ebony boots. On top of his head, nestled in his semi-controlled hair is his shining silver crown with forest green emeralds embedded into it.

Virgil has to hold back laughter at all the scandalized gasps coming from... well, everyone. Besides him, Thomas, Remy, Corbin, and Elliott, the last two of which are following the smiling couple.

Corbin in his leaf green tunic and coal black pants with silver armor, weapon ready, and Elliott in their ashen grey tunic and ink black pants with silver armor, weapons also ready.

“I take it back,” Logan mutters under his breath at Virgil, “that is horrible. What the actual hell Virgil?”

“He liked it,” Virgil defends. “Besides, the sleeves made it even better, they were almost skin tight, same black as the rest, with the same green color ruffles at the ends. It was amazing, but I had to abandon them. Maybe next time he needs formal wear…”

“Virgil, you know I love you as my son, but I have to beg you to never make that again,” Patton whispers.

“Oh trust me Pat, I have seen the looks on the nobles’ faces and I will make something even better just to see them again.”

Remus and Dee stand in front of their thrones, their knights behind them, and then the door opens one last time.

Roman sweeps in, brilliant and warm and so very extra. He’s wearing something similar to Remus, a pure snowy white suit, gold edging everything, including the cuffs. His usual bright ruby red sash across his chest, matching white pants, and polished obsidian black boots. On top his head is his crown, shining gold with the most beautiful rubies embedded in it. 

Behind him, Sloane is dressed in a scarlet tunic and lamb white pants with well-polished gold armor, weapon at his side.

The Crown Prince takes his place in front of his throne, Sloane taking his place two steps behind the throne.

“My people,” Roman calls out, voice projecting across the crowd, “it is time. Time to crown the next ruler in the wake of our tragedy. I call upon the Immortal!”

A rush of air spirals around the room, then a figure forms in the middle of the aisle the royals walked down. The figure solidifies into someone the myths speak of. A person with iridescent rainbow hair that falls to their waist, skin honey in certain areas and in other dusted cinnamon, with pure white freckles sprinkled throughout, eyes the shade Virgil would call life, swirling golden orange, bittersweet and warm and so heartachingly truthful. They’re dressed in a flowing dress of the most delicate pale pink, mythical and unlike anything he’s seen before, wafting gently in a breeze none can feel. A crown of an unknown metal, some beautiful cross between copper and gold, branches across their brow, shining as if generating a soft light itself. 

They turn slowly, observing the crowd, before turning to the royals. “You summon me,” they say, their voice like a thousand voices speaking in harmony, flowing and ancient. 

“Yes,” Roman answers calmly, eyes not leaving the Immortal’s.

“Has the time come?”

“It is time to crown a new ruler.”

They incline their head regally. “Very well.” They glide up to stand in front of Roman. “Crown Prince Roman of Islesen, how do you come to this ceremony of the coronation of a new ruler?”

“I come after the death of the Kings before me.”

“And should you fall to the same, who will take up this mantle?”

“To my spouse or spouses should I have them, then to the Crown Prince if my heir be underage or non-existent.”

The Immortal nods once. “Do you, Crown Prince Roman of Islesen, swear to hold your country’s people in your heart?”

“I swear it.”

“Do you swear to do what is best for the people to the best you can?”

“I swear it.”

“Do you swear to protect your people with every breath you take, down to the last?”

“I swear it.”

They pause, the air around them glowing a faint sunlight yellow, then it goes back and a small smile appears. “Your words ring true, Crown Prince.” A wave of their hand and the King’s crown appears, floating in between the two. They reach out, hands cupping underneath the crown but not touching it. “Is there any reason for Crown Prince Roman to not become King? Speak now or forever be silent.”

No one speaks. Roman is well known to be fair, kind, and just Prince. He may be brash and arrogant at times, but he has the people’s best interests at heart. 

“Very good.” The air begins to glow, brighter as if a new light source is inside the Hall. Roman’s crown disappears from his head as the Immortal raises the crown above Roman’s head.  “I, the Dragonwitch of the Immortals, crown Roman, firstborn of Benjamin, King of Islesen.” They place the crown on Roman’s head, a flash expelling from the crown.

When the light clears, Roman is standing there with the King’s crown on his head and the Immortal is a step back from where they were previously standing. “All hail, King Roman of Islesen!” they declare.

Chapter Text

1581 I

King Roman

“Look, Roman, if you wanted to wax poetry about Patton and Logan’s beauty, you could at least let me work while doing so,” Virgil groans out.

“But you don’t understand, they’re courting already and I don’t know if they’re even open to another! Plus, I’m their King, I don’t want to make them feel pressured!”

Virgil sighs. “Roman, just ask them. You gotta be up front. If you’re worried about them feeling pressured just make sure to stress that whatever their answer, you will accept it and won’t let it change things. Also, let me work!”

“Fine fine, go ahead and work on the monstrosity my brother is making you make for his forsaken costume ball thing. I’ll just LAY here with my BROKEN HEART-”

“You’re not dying,” Virgil points out, pulling out the mannequin with Remus’ costume. “And I know it’s not broken, because you haven’t asked them out yet. Man up Princey.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m a Kin-”

“I know, I was there Princey.”

Roman sighs. “I’m sorry Storm, it’s just hard. The kingdom of Talih’s ambassador is demanding we ally with them to pressure Keagl into entering a deal with them, even though we’re allied to both kingdoms through marriage and cannot do that. And of course the ambassador keeps trying to insult Dee and we all know how that’s going.”

Virgil pins new sleeves to the armholds as he replies. “Don’t I know it. Dee and Remus are beyond furious. I’m pretty sure Remus has broken at least fifty dummies in the two days he’s been here.”

“I want to throw him out and demand a new ambassador but I can’t according to the alliance. And of course Keagl-”

“-Keagl has been demanding you either say no to Talih or send back Dee which you can’t do because Dee is part of our family. But you can’t just say no to Talih because they could declare war and no one wants another war, not after the peace we’ve had since your grandmother ended the War of Quintet,” Virgil finishes for him, stepping back to decide what he needs to do next.

“Exactly! Wait how’d you know?”

“Dee vents to me while I’m working.”

“Oh. The thing is,” he can see Roman sit up from his dramatic position on Virgil’s table, “the deal is bad. Something was rubbing me the wrong way about it, so I asked Logan about it and he pointed it out that the deal calls for Keagl to give Talih their jewels, but all Talih will give them is fabric a quarter of the equal price to the jewels. A quarter of the jewels’ worth! That’s unfair to Keagl and could put them at a disadvantage against other kingdoms if they’re trapped in the deal for more than two years.”

Virgil pauses, lowering the lace he was about to pin around the sleeve edges. “Roman, what did you just say?”

“It would put Keagl at a disadvantage if trapped in the deal for more than two years?”

“Exactly. Exactly! That’s it, that’s the reason they’re doing it!” Virgil yells.

“Why would they want Keagl to be weakened though?” Roman asks. “Talih must know they can’t start a war against Keagl, even at their lowest Keaglian warriors are some of the fircest out there.”

“Right, that’s right.” Virgil thinks about it, staring at the clothing in front of him. Remus’ clothing. The second Prince’s clothing, the one next in line with Dee alongside him. “What if... what if they want to drive a wedge within our royals?” he muses out loud.

“What?”

“Hear me out. Who is in charge if you’re hurt or killed?”

“Remus and Dee.”

“Exactly! And that would mean that Keagl would be in more luck, due to having one of their royals on the throne, whereas Talih won’t. Quick, who is of marrying age in Talih royalty?”

“Um, probably their Majesty Brieen, the first and only child of the late Queen Layla.”

“And who’s on the throne right now?”

“King Corvius, the late Queen Layla’s second husband.”

“So if Talih could bring Keagl down, weaken them, there’s a chance Dee would be pulled back to the kingdom or that Dee would lose favor here. Then, in comes King Corvius with a new partner for you or Remus, thus placing Talih in better favor than Keagl.”

“Woah.” Roman stares at the wall, then says, “If your idea is true, we’ll have to tell Remus and Dee. And Logan, I’ll need to talk with him to determine a course of action that won’t ruin our alliance with Talih but will keep Keagl safe.”

“Anytime Princey,” Virgil says, peering down the neck opening to check that he’s not sewing into the mannequin. 

“Hang on, are those…” Roman muses, closer to him than before.

“What?”

“Dude you’re bitten up!” Virgil whirls around, shocked. Roman’s smirking. “When were you gonna tell me that you had lovers?”

“L-lovers? Who said anything about lovers?!” He curses not covering them up better but he honestly didn’t think anyone would see them.

“Vee, you have multiple love bites on your neck and collar, in two different markings. You’ve got lovers.”

Virgil sighs. “Okay, okay. I’m privately courting two people, happy?”

“Nope.” Roman drapes himself on the table again. “Who are they? Do they know you’re counting the other? Is it like, an all three or just you and one, and then you and another? What’re they like? Why did I not know about this?!”

Sighing again, Virgil sets down his work. He’s not getting anywhere and Roman won’t leave it if he doesn’t answer him at least somewhat. “Alright first off, when I say privately courting I mean no one knows except us three and now you I guess. Second, I am not telling you who they are because we agreed not to tell anyone until we’re ready to marry. Third, it’s all three of us in a relationship.”

“Awww! Fine, if I can’t know, I’ll settle for what they’re like.”

Call it his fatal flaw, but Virgil can’t help but gush over his lovers. “Fine.” He perches on the table across from Roman and starts. “Okay, so there’s um... Python? Yeah, Python. Python and um, Octo. Those two are married actually, but uh we meet and they confessed that they liked me so we started courting in private. Octo is chaotic,” he laughs at his description of Remus. “Chaotic and fierce and unapologetically himself. He’s wild-”

“So you ARE gay!”

Virgil sighs heavily. “Roman, I’m in a closed relationship with two other males. Yes I’m gay. Anyway, Octo is wild, and incredibly violent when he’s mad or protective, but I and Python know he’d rather chop off his limbs than injure one of us. Well,” he decides to be mean to Roman, “without our consent, of course.”

“Telling me about your bedroom acts Vee? It’s almost like you want me to join.”

“You wish Princey. Python though, he’s slick. He’s smooth, elegant, he’s protective in a ‘I’ll verbally destroy you then frame you for murder or something’ way.”

“Sounds like he’d make for a good nobleman,” Roman comments.

“Oh he does. I’m pretty sure everyone’s either scared of him or wants to stab him in the back but are too nervous that he or Octo would kill them first.”

“They sound nice.”

“They are so much more than just nice,” Virgil snaps. “They’re amazing and I love them.”

“Cool cool, chill out. When’d you meet them?”

“Oh um, the day I moved in actually.” Virgil bites his lip nervously. Don’t figure it out, please don’t figure it out , he begs silently. 

“Wow, lucky huh?”

“Yep.”

“So did you three get together as soon as you meet or what?”

“Oh we uh, we got together around the time of the Kings’ passing.” Virgil pauses out of respect for the dead. “That’s part of the reason we didn’t tell anyone anything, it felt improper. Plus, they hold status in court and if they were to be open about our courting, we’d be forced to marry and we weren’t ready yet.”

“And now?”

Would he marry Dee and Remus now? “In a heartbeat,” he replies softly. “I love them with all my heart and I want to spend my whole life with them.”

“Then,” Roman sits up, “when you want to propose, I’ll help you.”

“Thanks Princey, I’m holding you to that.”

Day of costume ball. And yet again, Virgil finds himself in his lovers’ room.

“I feel like you’re at a disadvantage here,” Dee grumbles, getting his jacket on and letting Virgil fix it and the ruffles. 

“Oh stop it, if anything I’m at a disadvantage because I have two handsome partners and then there’s me,” Virgil shoots back, straightening the folded over collar that leads to the wrap over tarnished gold buttons. 

“Hey hey, look at me,” Dee orders, batting Virgil’s hands away from his clothes and pulling his face up so one isn’t towering over the other. “Virgil, you are so incredibly beautiful. Your eyes are this intense grey that changes ever so slightly depending on how you’re feeling.”

Remus butts in, leaning over and cupping half of Virgil’s face while Dee holds the other. “When you’re happy they look like silver mist, when you’re sad they look faded and worn out stone, and when you’re angry they look like the strongest, fiercest storm clouds I’ve ever seen.”

“Your skin is the purest white marble, your hair raven black, each limb perfectly shaped to make up this wonderful being that you are.”

“You have a great sense of humor, and aren’t afraid to speak your mind,” Remus adds. “You complete us. And by the time this ball is over, everyone’s gonna know that.”

Virgil smiles as Dee agrees. “Thanks you two.”

“Anytime love.”

“Whatever you need, heart. I’ll crush anyone’s skull who disrespects you!”

Looking at his lovers, his two wonderful, crazy, spontaneous, protective lovers, Virgil can’t help himself. He surges up, kissing Remus as if his lips are the one thing keeping him alive. Remus’ lips move underneath his, kissing back after a half second of confusion. It’s uncoordinated and teeth and tongue, but it conveys how much Remus means to him and that’s all he wanted. Then he backs away and smashes his lips against Dee’s. It’s passionate and messy and he’s drinking in Dee’s mouth as if he’s dying of thirst and Dee is water. Nothing matters, because his lovers are here and he loves them with all his heart. Breaking apart, he watches them gaze at him, eyes dilated and breath uneven. And then Dee is surging and he and Remus are locked in an equally passionate kiss. 

Remus’ hand on his cheek curls down around his neck, caressing his pulsepoint as Dee’s fingers ease up into his hair and entangle themselves in his locks. They’re all together and they’ll never be parted.

Virgil smirks over his drink as Dee appears at the balcony. Remus must be waiting to make a dramatic entrance, as per usual. Dee pauses at the top of the stairs, allowing everyone to see what he’s wearing. A warm, life-giving sun yellow shirt with a void black jacket, buttoned up with his signature buttons, a matching black half cloak attached at the shoulders. The same color black pants and obsidian ankle boots with a slight solid heel. Fitted matching yellow gloves with night black embroidered swirls that hold a snake, an octopus, and a spider on the back of the hand complement the outfit. His usual crown is replaced with his Keaglian one, a serpent swallowing its own tail, creating a circlet in gold. And lastly, his mask. Well, he went with makeup and really, it looks incredible. Shimmering fresh grass green scales cover his birthmark and area around his eyes, accenting his face so perfectly. 

His lover stands there for a moment more, then carefully makes his way down, slowly as if he doesn’t feel the eyes in him, though Virgil knows he does and is reveling in them. The guests make way for him when he reaches the ground, then the party atmosphere returns and Virgil’s watches Dee grab a glass and look around. They meet eyes and share a smile, then Dee looks up to the balcony. Virgil follows his eyes, and it’s only a second later when everyone erupts with gasps.

Remus bursts through the double doors, pausing at the top of the stairs to grin crazily down at the guests as they take in his outfit. From the outside perspective, it looks like he’s just wearing a glittery ink black jacket edged in bright lime green with silver buttons, no shirt. Virgil knows Remus is wearing a moss green shirt, with a v cut neckline to give off the appearance of no shirt, underneath his jacket. The jacket has giant poofy sleeves, moss green with black netting that holds a spider, a snake, and an octopus in it overtop, that go to the middle of his upper arm then turn into form fitting matching black velvet sleeves that go to his wrists and end in bright lime green lace for cuffs. For pants he has moss green and bright lime green vertically striped poofed shorts, covering only to his mid thigh. From there it changes to form fitting matching black velvet pants and his shining obsidian leather boots that end right below the knee. Instead of his usual silver crown, Remus is wearing a blackened metallic crown similar to his usual, however it holds no jewels and it’s points are much sharper than normal. His “mask” is again makeup, mossy green tentacles that go over his face like a domino mask.

His lover stands there, soaking up the gasps with pride, then cheerfully prances down the stairs, paying no care to anyone in front of him. The crowd parts for him when he reaches the floor, and he just slips through them, making a beeline to the drinks.  Once the party resumes, Remus begins his look around. He quickly finds Virgil, who then looks to Dee. When he looks back at Remus, he’s looking at Dee. 

Now, there were rules, traditions to balls. The first two dances must be done with your romantic partner or partners or not at all. The first dance for the first partner, and then the second for the if the relationship has a second partner that joined later on. The next five are for if a pairing has more than three people, the ranking continuing from second to join to the last to join; for familial relations; or close friendships. Once those are over, then can everyone dance with whomever they please. However, the three had talked together and they had agreed that the tradition was stupid. Therefore, Remus approached him first, instead of Dee as he should have. 

Bowing and kissing Virgil’s hand, he grins at Virgil. “Dance with me?” he asks, to the shocked gasps from the crowd. 

Smiling calmly, he replies. “Of course.” Ignoring the gasps he gets for not adding Remus’ ‘your highness’, he allows Remus to tug him away and to begin their dance. Because of Remus being the tallest of the three, and Virgil being the shortest by five inches, Remus takes the lead. 

He holds Remus’ left hand in his right and places his left hand on Remus’ right shoulder while Remus’ right hand rests on Virgil’s left waist. Then the music begins and they dance. Normally the first dance is slow, and the music reflects that, but Remus and Virgil never were much for conforming. They fly across the dance floor, racing around in fast but smooth steps and many, many quick spins that leave Virgil’s coat tails flaring out. It’s fast, passionate, and at complete odds with the music and everyone else’s dancing. It’s them.

All too soon the dance starts to wind down. Remus spins him in a triple rapid spin, then he shifts his right hand to Remus’ left shoulder and Remus’ hands are on his hips and then he’s in the air. Spinning through it, he lands in his lover’s arms, just like they did in countless late night practices. Remus gently lowers him to his feet and they bow to each other as the final note rings out. Their bows were the normal, common courtesy bows given to people of the same rank as your own, which they weren’t. The clapping takes a moment to take hold, and they smirk at each other, knowing they did exactly what they wanted to do: confuse and shock the nobility. After all, the lift and spin was reserved for acrobats and entertainers, not the elite and certainly not at a ball.

With that, Virgil kisses Remus’ right cheek and he plants a kiss on Virgil’s left cheek, then disappears into the crowd. Gloved fingers cup his jaw and turn him to the right, to face Dee who has appeared next to him. “May I have this dance?” he asks with a smirk, after bowing and kissing his hand. 

“Of course you may,” Virgil replies just as cheekily. 

They get into position as the next dance begins, Dee in the lead with his four inches over him. It’s just as slow as the last one, but this time Dee starts them off to follow the music. They dance slowly, smoothly cutting through the couples dancing. After enough time to lull the guests into believing they won’t be like Remus, Dee leans in. “Ready?” 

“Born ready,” Virgil whispers back.

Instantly they change from a waltz, the classical dance for the first couple songs, and instead begin a tango, the traditional romantic dance of Keagl. Though, Dee and Virgil had been practising this routine for a while, and had decided that instead of having one take the lead and the other do all the flair, they’d share the roles. 

So, Dee begins by bending Virgil’s arms and torso every which way while Virgil flows with him, dragging his front foot out in front, Dee lowering them both into an almost split. But then Virgil snaps them up and spins them around, switching hand holds so he has the lead. He leads them in a cross step, making their way across the floor, then Dee lifts his legs up as Virgil twists his torso, so he’s keeping them moving forward while they look behind them. Then he sets Dee down, who immediately dances his feet around Virgil’s and, switching hand holds again, bends Virgil in a low dip. They keep this up, cutting a path among the elites with their kicks and dips and twirls, never slowing for a second, constantly moving and changing and sharing the roles.

But soon enough the music begins to wind down, not that they had been dancing to the pace of the music at all. Virgil dips Dee so low his cloak brushes the marble floor, then he surges up and they change hands once more, Virgil jumping to rest on Dee’s hip for a second, then swinging around to the other hip. Then he lets go of Dee’s hands as he flings Virgil to lay over his shoulder, leg raised so the toe of his shining black obsidian boot is pointing at the ceiling. A moment, enough for the court to admire the beauty of their position, blacks and yellows and purples complementing each other so well, then Dee swings him down and he kicks his previously raised leg out behind him, flush with the ground, as the other leg kneels in a bent way and Dee hoevers over him, lips a mere inch away from each other. 

Virgil can feel his lover’s breath on his lips, both breathing heavy. In practices, they always kissed, but they had agreed to leave the kissing for after Remus and Dee’s dance. So instead Dee brings Virgil back up into a standing position and they bow to each other, again the bow to one of your rank, not the proper one they should have done. With a kiss to Dee’s left cheek and Dee placing a kiss to Virgil’s right cheek, he walks off of the dance floor and picks up a new glass. 

No one moves towards him, too busy staring, and he smirks. It’s probably mostly because of his dancing with the princes, but he imagines that it’s about his clothes instead, because he put so much work into them.

Plum purple shirt with an ink black jacket, with coat tails, edged in twilight purple with shining white bone buttons. The almost skin tight sleeves end above his elbows, plum purple tulle going down to his wrists, more freeing in the middle but clinched tight at the wrists. Black embroidery swirls cover the fabric, along with a snake, an octopus, and a spider. His pants match his jacket, boots shining obsidian leather that goes to his mid calf, a one inch solid heel. Foregoing a mask, he did makeup, creating six bright purple eyes arranged like a spider’s on his face. All the eyes, including his two real ones, are edged in black eyeliner and black eyeshadow. He stands out and he knows it.

Music starts to wind up again and he watches as Dee and Remus bow to each other and begin their dance. Not bothering for any pretense, they immediately strike up a cha cha cha, a commoner’s dance in Islesen. To Virgil’s eyes, it seems to be a mix of a waltz, by the way the partners move in a circular pattern across the floor, and a tango, with it’s quick step around each other, with a heavy sprinkling of hip movements that Remus pulls off way too well. Though Dee does it well enough that Virgil has to bite his tongue to keep from going up to his lovers and kissing them breathless.

Sadly, the scene they’re making has to draw to a close with the music, but the ending finish is worth it. Remus drops Dee into a split, then brings him back up to standing, Dee dances a quick step around him as Remus brings his arms up, so that when Dee comes full circle he can immediately wrap his arms around Dee’s shoulders. Then Dee dips Remus over his leg, feet never leaving the ground but it looks like Remus may snap, but with a simple tug he flies up and they switch. Remus dips Dee, Dee’s legs wrapping around Remus’ hip and supporting leg, his outstretched hands touching the floor with his fingertips as the music ends. Dee stands up with Remus’ support and they bow to each other. Virgil’s seen it over and over and over again, but it never gets old.

And now, for the final touch of the night. They’ve practiced for months, preparing for this, planning this.

He places his glass at the edge of a table. It doesn’t matter where, he won’t be coming back for it anyway. 

Emerging from the crowd, he walks over to his lovers who are still in the middle of the door floor, though no music plays. The crowd has drawn back, forming a rough circle around the trio.

“Ready?” Dee asks the two.

Remus and Virgil grin. “Born ready,” the chaotic one says.

Virgil nods to his lovers. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With that, Dee kisses Virgil on the lips. It’s not very long, but it’s reassuring. When they break apart, Remus swoops in and kisses Virgil. Again, not very long or as passionate as they've done, but it’s sweet. And when they break away, Remus and Dee kiss. To cement the fact that they’re all together. 

They’re met with gasps, but Remus just laughs and tugs them away, out some side doors and into the castle. They race through the hallways, giggling like manics but not caring because they’re out and they have each other. Eventually, they find themselves in front of the doors of Remus and Dee’s rooms, and they enter. Collapsing on the bed, making out with his lovers, Virgil knows he’s never felt more alive and more in love than in that moment.

Chapter Text

1581 II

King Roman

“REMUS! DEE! VIRGIL!” Roman’s voice yells from outside the door. Virgil groans, snuggling in closer to the moderately warm chest in front of his face. 

“Shhhh, go back to sleep love,” Dee whispers as fingers thread their way through his hair. Virgil nods slightly, arching into the touch. He can hear Remus’ giggle behind him.

“REMUS!” Roman yells. “DEE!”

“Ugh,” Remus mutters. “Can we just, like, ignore him?”

“You know we can’t darling, he may be your brother but he’s also your King.” 

“But I don’t wanna leave Vee,” he whines.

Dee laughs quietly, then Virgil feels the chest he’s pressed up against move, and after a couple seconds there’s a pair of lips on his forehead, then Dee is moving away. Virgil whines and tries to follow, but Dee chuckles and kisses his forehead again. “Stay here little one.”

“ ’M not little,” Virgil slurs.

“Of course not sweetheart.”

“REEEEEMUSSSS!” Roman bellows.

“Definitely not like you bottomed last night,” Remus chimes in, ignoring his brother.

Virgil huffs. “Whatever. I’m not moving, so someone else gets to deal with Princey.”

Dee laughs. Virgil can hear footsteps moving away from the bed, so he cracks open an eye and watches Dee throw on a loose cloud grey shirt and some obsidian black pants. He’s pretty sure the shirt is his and the pants are Remus’. Then Dee opens the door and Virgil catches a glimpse of Roman. “Yesssss?” Dee drawls.

“Where’s Remus?”

“Asleep,” Dee lies. Virgil can feel Remus petting his hair as his other arm curls over his waist. 

“And Virgil?”

“Also asleep.” Virgil has to restrain a giggle.

Roman sighs. “Fine, I’ll talk to you then. Can I enter?”

“Hmmm, as long as you’re quiet I suppose so.” Dee steps aside and Roman enters, Dee closing the door behind him. “Now, what do you want?”

“I- can I sit actually?”

“Hmmm,” Dee surveys the furniture in the room. “I think the armchair over there is safe, don’t sit on the sofa if you value your clothes though.” Remus almost spasms at that, and Virgil almost does the same. The gods only knew how many times they’ve done some... interesting things on that sofa.

Roman sits on the armchair, conveniently right in Virgil and Remus’ sight lines. Dee turns to smile at them before sitting in a chair across from the King. He awkwardly coughs, then starts. “So uh, yesterday.”

“Yes, and?”

“And the ball…”

“Yes, the ball. It went well, did it not? Though I must admit I ducked out early, did anything happen?” Virgil knows Dee is smirking, faking innocence. 

“Stop being cryptic Dee-”

“I’m not being cryptic, I’m being coy. There’s a difference Roman.”

Roman sighs heavily. “Whatever the difference is, you, Remus, and Virgil made an uproar!”

“Good.”

“Not good! Dee, they know he’s a servant.”

“So?”

“So, while I know you two have some fixation-”

“It is not ,” Dee warns, voice sharp enough to cut glass, “ ‘some fixation’, Roman. We love him.”

“Regardless of love or not Dee, he’s a servant, the elites-”

“The elites can screw themselves,” Remus growls, not moving but curling his arms tighter around Virgil. “I don’t care who they think they are, we love each other and we’re not separating just because some pompous assholes don’t like Vee.”

“Yeah!” Virgil cheers, pumping up a fist. “What Octy said!”

Roman sighs. “Have you two been awake the whole time?”

“Yes,” all three say in sync.

“You three meeting was a mistake,” Roman sighs out. “Fine fine, get up and join us over here.”

“Hell no,” Virgil replies. 

“And why not?!”

“Because the last time you saw me naked you almost bleached your eyes out,” Remus quips.

“EW EW EW EW EW NO NO STAY THERE!” Roman screams to their laughter.

“Anyway, you were saying Roman?” Dee prompts.

“Right, right. Well, the elites aren’t happy-” 

“Shocking,” Virgil grumbles.

“Yes and,” he hesitates.

“There’s something else,” Dee guesses. “What are you holding back Roman?”

“Nothing!”

“Your voice goes high when you lie.”

“Squeaky like a squirrel!” Remus adds.

“Fine.” He takes a breath. “They think Virgil’s blackmailing you.”

“WHAT?!” the three screech, Virgil and Remus shooting up in bed.

“Why do they think that?!” Virgil asks.

“I don’t know, I’m just telling you what Remy told me!”

“Great, we go public with our relationship and immediately they think I’m some gold digger,” Virgil groans.

“Well to be fair, it is a new relationship-”

“We’ve been together for two years!” Virgil protests, cutting Dee off.

“-to them, it’s new,” Dee adds, standing up and making his way over to the bed. He gently cups Virgil’s face. “We knew this may happen love, we prepared for this.”

“I know…” Virgil replies sullenly. 

“You did?”

Remus scoffs at his brother. “Of course we did. You know what they put me and Dee through when we came out, and we’re both princes. We are not going through that again.”

“So, what is your plan then?”

Virgil had always been taught to be as respectful as possible to royalty. That was thrown out the window when Remus and Dee burst into his life, but he still expected the elites to hold that thought, as they interacted with Roman more than Remus, and Roman tended to be more set on respect. 

“Why was commoner scum kissing the Crown Prince and his consort?!” someone yells from the crowd.

That... did not ring true.

It’s chaos in the throne room as Roman tries to calm the fuming elites. Virgil’s up in the hidden balcony with Thomas and Remy, the former who looks sick and the latter who looks like he’s about to snap. All three insisted on watching what happened, so they got to sit up here and watch what happened.

Dee and Remus are in the wings, waiting for Roman to calm things down before going out and explaining. At least, that’s where they’re supposed to be. 

“That gold digging bastard is a threat to our kingdom!” another noble yells.

“Now I know you were not discussing our partner with that kind of vulgar language,” Dee hisses as he stalks out onto the raised part of the throne room, Remus fingering the morning star at his side as he follows. The nobility visibly recoil, taking a full step back from the dias.

“Because that’d be incredibly stupid, even for you people,” Remus drawls.

“So let us set the record correct right now for you.” Dee pauses for dramatic effect, a half step in front of Roman, who is watching on with a resigned face. “The Prince and I have a third lover. We have been courting in private for two years now.” Virgil can sense the elites begin to grow restless, wanting to start yelling again, but Remus pulls out his morning star to admire it and that seems to convince them otherwise. 

“But now we’re going public with it!” he cheeriful giggles, a very real threat lying underneath his words. His eyes, his stance, the way he’s holding his weapon, it all speaks of a willingness, almost eagerness to violently beat up anyone who speaks against him and his lovers.

“This is not an announcement of marriage,” Dee states, leaving no room for argument.

“We’re just finally letting y’all in on the secret!” Remus adds. “Any questions?”

A brave soul pushes themself to the front. “I do, Your Highnesses.” They’re in a shimmering turquoise jacket and pants, with a raven black shirt and cloud white ruffle and buttons. 

Dee looks down on them, arching one eyebrow. “And you are?”

They do not react to the blatant disrespect, as Virgil knows Dee knows everyone in the crowd by name and face. “I am Talyn, the Sovereign of the Viki providence.” They used the title of Sovereign, indicating they/them pronouns. 

“And what do you wish to ask?”

“I wish to ask for the name of your lover, Your Highnesses”

“And you won’t get it,” Remus snaps.

The Sovereign smiles. “Glad to hear that, Your Highnesses. Now I know you love him.” They melt back into the crowd and Virgil is stunned. They knew exactly what question to ask, to know that the two princes love him. He turns to Thomas and Remy, who are smiling as if sharing an inside joke.

“What?” he asks curiously.

“Oh, we know them,” Thomas replies. “Talyn can be cryptic like that, but they’re also very protective over people they care about. Since Dee and Re are people I care about, I’m guessing they put themselves out there to prove to their fellow nobles that they’re serious about you.”

“Or to piss them off, who knows,” Remy adds.

“True,” Thomas agrees.

No one else speaks up, Dee and Remus sweeping out of the hall after it’s apparent that no one is willing to challenge them. Virgil glances at the exit, wanting to find his lovers but also wanting to watch some more.

“Oh for the Immortal’s sake, go follow your men,” Remy orders.

“But-”

“No but’s. We’ll fill you in later Vee. Go after my brothers,” Thomas reassures. 

He grins and races out, immediately taking the quickest route to their chambers. It’s not so much the fact that he moved into their rooms, he still has his work room and bedroom, but his lovers’ rooms are much better for the trio, so they tend to spend most of their shared time there. It’s no surprise when he enters that he’s greeted to the sight of them. Dee is pacing the room’s length, ranting to Remus who’s perched on the edge of the sofa while he sharpens a dagger. 

Virgil just catches the end of Dee’s rant. “-but what if he rejects me! What if he- Virgil.” Both of his lovers are staring at him, Dee’s a face of semi-controlled panic and Remus tenser than normal. Both very unlike how they normally are.

“Dee? Ree?” Virgil asks hesitantly. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Dee says too quickly. 

Virgil worries his lip. Dee sounded really scared when he walked in on them. On one hand, he knows Dee will open up in time and that he should drop it, but on the other hand Dee doesn’t get scared easily. He only cares if it’s personal or affects someone he loves. “Dee, what’s going on? I know something’s up.”

“Nothing’s up, Vee. I’m fine,” Dee replies, fiddling with his gloves.

Virgil takes a deep breath and approaches Dee, carefully laying a hand on his hands, causing him to look up from the ground. “Dee, if you really want me to drop it I will, but something’s wrong and I want to help.”

“Oh Vee…” Dee’s hands grab his own. He looks at Virgil, then seems to make a decision. “You deserve to know.” He leads them to the sofa Remus is sitting on and they sit down, Dee next to Remus.

“You okay with this Cobra?” Remus asks softly. 

“Yes, it’s time he found out,” Dee replies. Another breath, then he starts. “Virgil, my people have a tradition your people do not. Mothers will name their children a name they choose, but once a child has reached fifteen years, the child chooses a name for themself. It is meant to be a secret to everyone else. This is a name only the ones they trust the most will learn and be allowed to speak. The child is allowed to change their chosen name as much as they like, however they are under no obligation to tell anyone if they do not wish to. Dee, the name everyone calls me by, is the name my mother gave to me. And,” he pauses, obviously scared, “I wish to give you my chosen name.”

The implication is not lost on Virgil. Dee is saying that he trusts him and loves him enough to give Virgil his chosen name. He can tell how sacred this is, and he reaches up to cup Dee’s birthmark, thumbing the beautiful scar as he looks into his eyes. “Dee, I love you. If you want to give me your chosen name then I will accept it with open arms and an open heart. If you don’t, I wouldn’t push it. I don’t need your chosen name to know that your and Remus’ love is all I need, names and countries aside.” He can feel tears building but he doesn’t care. He loves Dee with all his heart, just as he loves Remus with all his heart. 

Dee has tears in his eyes and he’s smiling. “Virgil Dragan, my love, my name is Janus.”

Janus.

“Janus,” he repeats, feeling it slither across his tongue. It’s beautiful, it’s smooth, it’s mysterious, it’s- “It’s you,” he says, before pressing a kiss to Janus’ lips. 

“ROMAN!” Virgil yells, bursting into the king’s office.

“Immortal’s eyes!” Roman yelps, falling out of his chair. “Virgil?!”

“I’m cashing in your promise to help me,” Virgil says, slamming his hands on the desk and staring down at Roman, who’s sitting on the ground, crown askew. 

“Help you with what?” Roman asks, getting up.

“Propose.”

Virgil fidgets nervously as Roman stares at him, unblinking. It’s been a day since Janus told him his chosen name, but he knows that he wants to spend his entire life with his lovers, Remus and his spontaneousness and brutal honesty and Janus with his polish and self assuredness. They are the only ones for him, he knows it.

“Propose?”

“Propose,” Virgil confirms. 

“HOLY SHIT!” Roman screams. “This is incredible! I mean yeah you three will be married before me but like, still. I’ve been waiting for this day since I found out you three were courting!”

“Uh, okay? But can you like, help me figure out how to propose?”

“Hmm? Oh, right! Sit down, sit down, we have a lot to talk about.” Virgil sits down on the deep scarlet velvet chair as Roman perches on the edge of his desk. “Alright... well first, what are you looking for from me? I know you probably already have an idea of what you want to do, so what do you need from me?”

“I want to know what the proposable traditions are for Keagl.”

“Aww that’s cute! I don’t know the whole thing, you might want to talk to Logan about that, but what I do know is that the one proposing must do it with a circlet of clover and Amaranth. Something about unity and immorality.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to ask Logan then. By any chance, do you know how Remus proposed to Dee?”

“Oh.” Roman shifts around uneasily. “Um, they... didn’t exactly get to do that….”

“What do you mean?”

“Nobles on both sides were quite upset that the two werre courting without formal discussions of the political impacts, so to keep the peace, they were given rings and told they were engaged.”

“They didn’t get a choice!?”

“No,” Roman whispers. “I wish they had, I asked Father to grant them that small mercy, but the nobles were threatening to call for disownment if the two weren’t married.”

Disownment would mean that Remus would have been cast out of the royal family and forced to survive as a commoner. He and Janus never would have been able to marry if that had happened, no one would allow the second prince of Keagl to marry a disowned former royal.

“And, now?”

“I know they were talking of doing the same thing, however Remus and Dee’s performance is making them rethink their plans. Either way, I want you three to have a choice, I won’t be my Father.”

“Thank you, for helping me and for telling me this,” Virgil says, getting up.

“Wait, you think that’s it? Where do you plan on proposing? How? What will you say? Stormcloud we have a lot more to discuss!”

Today is the day. He’s had a month to gather what he needs, to plan, to build up the courage to go through with it. He knows he loves them, that he wants to do this, but he can’t help but be nervous. 

“Just breath, Virgil,” he tells his reflection. He’s wearing a new design of his, casual not formal, but acceptable to wear inside the castle. Worn stone grey pants, a vibrant plum purple tunic, midnight black cloak with giant patches of the purple and large, obvious cloud white stitches. The patches are actually sewn on properly with black thread in tiny, neat work, but it looks very dramatic with the patches. 

Deciding there’s nothing else to be done to his outfit, he walks out of his bedroom and into his work shop. All the tables are pushed to the sides, except for the one small table, just right of the center of the room, which has five objects on it. Three are circlets of clover and Amaranth, worked on with Logan so they were done in the correct pattern. As Logan mentioned, both or all partners in the proposal are supposed to get one, therefore Virgil made one for each of them. And the other two are rings. Both have onyx bands, but one has emeralds set into it and the other has golden tourmaline set into it. One for Remus and one for Janus. If it weren’t for Roman helping him commission and pay for the rings, he never would have known when he was being swindled. Thankfully he had a large amount of money from his job so he didn’t have to borrow money from Roman as well.

Hopefully by now his lovers have seen the note and are making their way through the puzzle of places he left for them. From their bedroom to Remus’ weapons room to Janus’ library to the astrology tower to the throne room to Roman’s office, purely to annoy him and also to give Roman a break from his work, to the cliffs to his workroom. Places they love, places they’ve shared together. All to where it started, with a tailor and two princes. 

A knock on his door, then three, then two. “Come in,” he calls out, standing next to the table anxiously.

Slowly, the door creaks open. Remus and Janus step into the room and immediately stop when they see Virgil standing there and the table next to him. He takes a deep breath. It’s time.

“Remus, Janus, when I first saw you two the only thoughts in my head was how incredibly beautiful and ethereal you two looked. That and I was scared you’d hate me or kill me, but that’s besides the point. You two befriended me, Immortal knows why, but I am so glad you did because I gained the friendship of two of the most chaotic, vicious, protective, wonderful people I ever could know. And I fell in love. And even though I found out you two loved me back at probably one of the worst times, I don’t regret it because it meant I got the two best men I could ever hope to court. Every moment shared with you has been golden to me, memories I will treasure forever. And, those nights we spent practicing for the ball, to finally show our love to the court, dancing dances I’d have never known if not for you, having the most fun I’ve ever had and being able to share it with you two, just cemented to me how much I love you two. Because I love you two, Remus with your weapons and spontaneousness and ideas and overwhelming passion, and Janus with your way with words and wit and wicked streak and tricks. I love every part of you two, because you let me in and allowed me to see them. And, two months ago, I realized something: I truly, deeply love you and could never live without you, now that I know what I would be missing. So,” he picks up one of the circlets and Remus’ ring, then kneels, “would you, Crown Prince Remus of Islesen and Prince Janus Dee of Keagl, marry me, Virgil Dragan of Islesen?”

“Virgil you fucker of course I will!” Remus yells, sobbing.

Janus has tears running down his face, gloves frantically wiping at them, mouth open but unable to speak.

“Darling?” Virgil asks softly.

“Yes,” Janus chokes out. “Yes yes yes of course I’ll marry you Vee.” 

Virgil grins and stands up, slipping the circlet onto Janus’ head before sliding the ring onto Remus’ finger. Janus just cries harder and Virgil gently grabs his face, clearing the tears with his fingers. “Jan?” Remus asks, hugging Janus from behind. 

“I just- it’s my country’s way of proposing,” he hiccups. “The circlet, that is. I- I didn’t think I’d ever get that.”

“I know heart, I know,” Remus whispers, Virgil hugging Janus so he’s captured in a big hug.

Eventually they pull away, Janus calmed down enough to notice the other items on the table. “You got one of each of us?”

“I asked Logan about the traditions and he said that everyone got one, so yeah,” Virgil answers sheepishly. “I also got you a ring, if that’s okay?”

“That’s- oh Virgil it’s more than okay,” Janus says before kissing him. It’s passionate, as if Janus were trying to pour all his feelings into Virgil. He kisses back just as passionately, just embracing the overwhelming, indescribable love he feels coming from Janus. 

When they come up for air, Remus butts in and literally sweeps Virgil off his feet, dipping him low and drinking in everything Virgil is. It’s overwhelming, flooding his every sense until it’s just Remus and his tongue and his hands on his waist and Remus . 

Later, much later, Janus and Remus drag him throughout the castle to Roman’s office. By some miracle their circlets stay on, and Janus has his ring on under his glove. Both Janus and Remus swore that he’d get a ring too but ‘by the Immortal Virgil you could have said something because now you’ll have to wait a month to get it and we want you to be wearing it with us!’ as they said. Remus bursts in without knocking, Janus and Virgil following closely behind.

“Remus!?” Roman yells, jumping back from his desk. “What’re you-”

“Congratulations Roman, you’re getting a new brother-in-law!” Remus says.

“Considering it’s Virgil, I can’t say that’s too bad,” Roman muses.

“This means that we will begin the plans for the wedding and due coronation of him,” Janus states. “And don’t worry, we’ll do the planning.”

“No no,” Roman panics, “Thomas is helping you too, and maybe some others. You are not doing it just by yourselves, we’d be dead in the next ten minutes or at war.”

All three fiancés sigh but agree.

Chapter Text

1582

King Roman

“And I’ll still be able to be a tailor, your tailor?” Virgil asks. “I can’t just give it up.”

“If you want to continue doing that, then of course you can continue!” Remus replies.

“Of course dear, you’ll become our tailor as you’ll have to include yourself, and as such you may want to consider getting an assistant,” Janus adds  from the other side of him.

“I’m okay with that. Then, my rooms will become, what?”

“Probably your work rooms,” Janus guesses. “You can continue to work from it, or use it as storage or whatever, but this will be our private rooms.”

“And... my royal... duties?” Virgil cringes.

“Eh, we just have to teach you to sword fight well enough and you’ll talk to nobles at parties but that’s about it. Oh and lessons but that’s really just some cultural backgrounds on kingdoms and like, who’s who of the court,” Remus supplies, lazily pressing kisses up Virgil’s neck.

“Plus a crown,” Janus adds. “They gave me a crown when I got married to Ree, so I have a couple crowns now. It’s a bit odd but worth it, to be with the ones you love.”

“...just how many crowns do you have love?”

“Uh.... well I have my Isleseni circlet for being part of their royalty, then I have my Keaglian ones: the serpent one, the wire with jewels, the diamond one, the obsidian one, it matches Remus’ one, and my silver one, so about six.”

Silence.

“Cobra I only have three, what the hell?”

Janus blushes ruby. “My kingdom has a lot of mines, the royal has a lot of crowns and jewels. I’m honestly quite tame compared to my sister and her partner I swear.”

Staring at his soon-to-be husbands, Virgil couldn’t believe it. “Everything actually fits for once?!” 

They laugh, then Remus quips, “What, third time’s the charm right?”

“I guess so,” Virgil giggles. 

“These are quite the masterpiece too,” Janus compliments.

“You really think so?”

Janus pins him with a look. He’s dressed in a faint lemon yellow shirt, ruffles trailing down from the neck, a cloud white jacket with gold embroidery and his usual tarnished gold buttons, matching white pants, the same soft yellow gloves with a faint scale-like pattern, a matching white sheer cloak that falls to the back of his knees, secured with tarnished gold chains, traditional black leather ankle boots of Keal, and his crown. This crown is his rose gold wire crown, yellow diamonds glittering at the base of each spire. “Love, I never wear white, but you make me look fabulous in it.”

“Yeah, what J said,” Remus chimes in. “At our last wedding we both looked weird but now we look awesome!” He’s wearing a light fresh grass green silk shirt, without ruffles because Remus mentioned they feel too scratchy, a snow white jacket edged in shining silver embroidery and his usual silver buttons, his poofy sleeves the same color as his jacket with silver thread netting, white sheer fabric trailing down to his knees from the poof, matching white pants, obsidian black boots, and his crown. He’s wearing his Isleseni crown, silver with emeralds.

Virgil blushes. “I know it’s not exactly colors any of us wear, but it is tradition, in both kingdoms, to wear white and more... pastel colors.”

“We know, but I must say that you do look ravishing in white,” Janus says, Remus licking his lips next to him.

Blushing even harder, Virgil glances down at his outfit. It’s a lilac purple shirt, ruffles going down his front, a cloud white jacket edged in bright golden embroidery and tarnished gold buttons, lilac purple tulle forming sleeves with two long slits that bunches up at his wrists, matching white pants, and obsidian black boots. Sheer white fabric falls to the back of his knees from hidden clips in his hair.

A knock on the door. Janus goes to answer it while Remus pulls Virgil into a kiss.

“Darlings, the ceremony is in two hours, we have to get into positions,” Janus calls out.

The throne room has been transformed once again, white lily flowers with yellow calla lilies, purple hydrangeas, green bells of ire and many, many roses of all shades fill the hall. The windows near the top of the ceiling are open, allowing sunlight to stream in, making it all look unearthly. The thrones have all been moved to the side, where the royal family will sit to watch the ceremony. In the middle of the dias is where the Immortal will stand when they are summoned, as tradition calls for the Immortal to be the one to marry and coronate all royals in Islesen. The hall is filled with elites from the two kingdoms, Janus’ family there at the front, and then the castle staff. Virgil has no family, so he instead invited Patton, Logan, and Emile to take the spots where his family would have stood. Mainly to get Patton and Logan closer to Roman and to get Emile closer to his husband, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Ready?” Thomas asks. He’s dressed in a snow white shirt, no ruffles, a pale rose pink jacket edged in bronze, matching pink pants, obsidian boots, and his usual crown. Virgil releases a shaky exhale, and nods. “Alright, remember, Remus and Roman, then Crown Princess Kaa and Dee, then us.”

“Right, right. I can do this.”

The music begins, a blended piece of both kingdom’s traditional wedding march. It’s beautiful, and then Virgil sees Remus, led by Roman, walk down the aisle.

Roman is dressed in a snow white shirt, a ruby red jacket edged in gold with gold buttons, matching red pants, obsidian black boots, and his king’s crown.

Following the twins are their guards, Sloane in a scarlet tunic and lamb white pants with well-polished gold armor, weapon at his side, and Corbin in his leaf green tunic and matching white pants with silver armor, weapon ready. 

Down the aisle they go, until they reach the foot of the dias. Roman leans over and whispers something to Remus before leaving to stand in front of his throne, both guards moving to stand a couple feet away from them. Then Janus begins his walk down the aisle with his sister.

She looks similar to Janus, carmel eyes and honey colored hair tied up in a complex pattern piled on top of her head, wrapping around her shining silver crown with sapphires. Her dress has an off-the-shoulder bateau neckline made of sapphire blue tulle with a sea green bodice wrapped in the tulle and flowing out like the waves of an ocean to dust the ground in a sleek and graceful skirt. 

Behind them are their guards, Elliot in their ashen grey tunic and cotton white pants with silver armor, weapons at the ready, next to an unknown knight in a sky blue tunic with cloud white pants and rose gold armor, an Ottoman sabre at their side.

The siblings walk until they stop at the dias. The Crown Princess whispers something to him and then leaves to stand in front of her place, next to her consort. Janus steps on to the dias, standing across from Remus, both looking his way now. As always, the guards follow to stand a couple feet from their royalty.

Thomas gently tugs Virgil forward. They walk down the aisle, Virgil’s heart beating faster as he gets closer to his loves. Stopping at the dias’ edge, Thomas whispers, “You can do this,” before moving away to take his place. Taking a steadying breath, he climbs the dias and takes his place between Remus and Janus. He turns to face the audience, and has to remind himself to not tense up.

“Citizens of Islesen and Keagl,” Roman speaks to the crowd, “today we gather for the marriage of Crown Prince Remus, Prince Dee, and Virgil Dragan. Therefore, I call upon the Immortal!”

Just as he saw it three years ago, a rush of air spirals around the room, a figure forming in the middle of the aisle. They solidify into the same person, still dressed as they were years ago. No weight is in their eyes, no wrinkle to their skin. Time holds nothing over them. 

They turn, taking in the crowd, then approach the trio on the dias. “You summon me,” they say, their voice the same, like a thousand voices speaking in harmony, flowing and older than the ground they stand on. 

“Yes,” Roman answers calmly as the Immortal stops in front of the lovers.

“Has the time come?”

“It is time to unite these three in marriage.” 

They look over the three. “I see you found your third,” they say quietly. Virgil catches Remus and Janus’ slight nod to them. He notes to ask about it later, after the wedding. The Immortal spins around to face the crowd. “I accept this marriage! Are there any who oppose this pairing, speak now or forever keep your mutterings sealed inside.”

Virgil nervously looks over the crowd. If someone approaches, there could be-

“I do,” someone calls out, stepping into the aisle. Virgil’s shoulders stiffen, breath catching in his throat. 

“And who are you?” the Immortal calls out.

“I am Elias, Lord of the Wicker providence of Talih.” Janus’ jaw is tight and Virgil can see Remus’ fists clenching in his peripheral vision. He guesses they have a history with him.

“And what reason do you have for these men to not marry?”

“Two are princes while the one is a commoner, a peasant!”

“Is that it?” the Immortal growls, the wind playing with their dress picking up, hair beginning to move with its invisible currents. Virgil wants to back away but he’s frozen in fear. “For there is no law against such a union, if the union be willing and freely entered. And you will find that wasting my time is a truly misguided calculation on your part, Lord Elias.” With a snap of their fingers, the lord turns into a poppy flower, left to flutter down to the ground in a chilling display of power. “Anyone else?” 

Virgil swears not a bird nor cricket dares to make a sound as the Immortal stares everyone down.

“Good. Let us begin.” The Immortal turns to the trio. “Crown Prince Remus of Islesen, do you swear to love Prince Dee of Keagl and Virgil Dragan of Islesen as long as you all shall live?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to be at their side, in sickness and in health, while rich and while poor, in peace and at war, until all three be dead and gone?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to stay true to them and only them, till the mountains fall, the oceans rise, and all is dust as it once was?”

“I do.”

“And do you swear that their secrets will be your secrets, that their troubles shall be your troubles, that your home will be their home, that your food shall be their food, that your family shall be their family, and that their wishes you will respect and guard until your last breath leaves your lips?”

“I do.”

They turn to Virgil. “Virgil Dragan of Islesen, do you swear to love Crown Prince Remus of Islesen and Prince Dee of Keagl as long as you all shall live?”

“I do.” Their stare is chilling, as if they are probing deep into his heart to detect if he lies. But he knows that what he swears is true. 

“Do you swear to be at their side, in sickness and in health, while rich and while poor, in peace and at war, until all three be dead and gone?”

“I do.” 

“Do you swear to stay true to them and only them, till the mountains fall, the oceans rise, and all is dust as it once was?”

“I do.” 

“And do you swear that their secrets will be your secrets, that their troubles shall be your troubles, that your home will be their home, that your food shall be their food, that your family shall be their family, and that their wishes you will respect and guard until your last breath leaves your lips?”

“I do.”

They nod and turn to Janus. “Prince Dee of Keagl, do you swear to love Crown Prince Remus of Islesen and Virgil Dragan of Islesen as long as you all shall live?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to be at their side, in sickness and in health, while rich and while poor, in peace and at war, until all three be dead and gone?”

“I do.” 

“Do you swear to stay true to them and only them, till the mountains fall, the oceans rise, and all is dust as it once was?”

“I do.” 

“And do you swear that their secrets will be your secrets, that their troubles shall be your troubles, that your home will be their home, that your food shall be their food, that your family shall be their family, and that their wishes you will respect and guard until your last breath leaves your lips?”

“I do.”

The Immortal moves to face all three lovers. “Your words ring true.” They raise their hands to stretch above the three. “I, the Dragonwitch of the Immortals, pronounce you, Crown Prince Remus, Prince Dee, and Prince Virgil, married.” A burst of light, and Virgil can feel a crown rest on his head. “You may now kiss your partners.”

Janus and Remus kiss their side of Virgil’s lips, making him blush heavily. Then Remus and Virgil kiss Janus’ lips, then Janus and Virgil kiss Remus’. 

The Immortal leans in and whispers, “My wedding gift in your room at the villa.”

“Thank you,” they whisper back.

With a nod, they step back and disappear in a swirl of air, leaving behind the smell of a rainstorm and pomegranates.

Then the newlyweds grab each other’s hands and they rush out of the hall, dashing through the hallways, fabric billowing out behind them, guards opening the doors as they approach, until they burst through the double doors and into the light of the courtyard. A carriage awaits to take them away to a small villa on the seashore, their honeymoon place. All their things they would need are already heading there. 

Remus turns to look at Virgil, one foot on the step into it. “Ready spider?” 

Janus turns back too, about to follow Remus up. “Love?”

He grins at them. “Let’s go.”

They get in and the carriage drives through the castle’s outer walls. Virgil watches as the city passes by. He came to it five years ago, not knowing why the King would be summoning him. Now, he leaves it, the husband of the late King’s son and son-in-law. 

“What’re you thinking about love?” Janus asks, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“The two of you,” he answers, pulling both in for a kiss.

“The husbands did go back to the castle once a month was up, to help their brother rule the kingdom. Prince Virgil received a guard, Knight Kai Avatar, a well-respected and fearsome warrior with a joint disability that they never let keep them from succeeding. King Roman eventually asked Logan Crofter and Patton Hart if he could court them both. Both men reciprocated the king’s feelings, so they began to court privately, only their family and guards knew. Meanwhile, Prince Thomas and Knight Remy Picani’s friend, Sovereign Talyn, became engaged and eventually married an innkeeper named Joan. King Roman soon married his two lovers, who are now the King Consorts along with their duties beforehand, though King Patton usually just treats the royal family now.”

“Did Prince Thomas ever get married Zama?”

“Yes he did, to a man who’s heart is warm and pure. They love each other deeply, as all couples should.”

“That’s good.”

“Indeed it is my little phoenix. Now, go to sleep.” The person tucks the little girl into her bed.

“Zama, did my dads really meet like that?”

“Yes they did sweetheart.”

“Then how did they have me?”

“Well, you remember the Immortal?”

“The Dragonwitch!”

The person chuckles. “Yes dear, the Dragonwitch. They had promised the three husbands a gift, did they not?”

“They did, they did! Was the gift me?”

“Yes dear, the gift was their own child when they were ready: you.”

“Woah,” the young girl whispers before succumbing to sleep.

The Dragonwitch smiles and presses a kiss on the sleeping child’s forehead. She grew up so quickly, they had come to check in on their godchild and found her old enough to tell the story to and finally have her remember it. They stand and disappear into the night, leaving only the smell of rainstorms and pomegranates.