Chapter Text
Epilogue: The King's Title
Hmm. Hm Hm, Hmmm. A low lullaby swayed with the breeze as King Bowser Koopa II stretched from behind the easel. He imitated a frame with his claws and squinted an eye at the outdoor scenery to capture every detail. Once satisfied with the image in mind, he tightened a bandana around his wild mane and proceeded to work. The Dark Lands insignia blew proudly in the wind while the cloth wrangled in stray stragglers of unkempt hair from his eyes. Masterful strokes of greens splashed on the canvas here and there; his paintings held great renown as some hung for study in Mushroom Kingdom galleries, while others introduced counterculture in Dark Land museums. Yet, despite his skill, something still felt missing.
Maybe a small break would dust off the mind's cobwebs. Sparkles winked at him along the fountain’s gentle cascades, as if to assure he still had plenty of time left to do so.
A few droplets scattered on the marbled ledge where he often found his fathers in their later years, unaware of the time that passed. The sun would rise with their laughter, and set with their embrace. It felt like yesterday, his Papa would cut star fruit into little slices. The initial sourness would jab at his senses but settle into a sweet aftertaste. He'd subject himself to more and more, his younger self wished to be as big and strong as his Dad, the former King. If only they could see him now. He tightened the bandana once more, wishing for a less scaly touch.
The King shook his head and leaned back on the bench, latching onto any detail with increasing intensity. Inhaling the garden’s earthy scent of flora did nothing. Touching the soil fertilized with volcanic sulfur did nothing. Uncovered secrets, a spark of inspiration, anything.
Only the wind blew in response.
The set of colors on the palette glared at him, as the darker browns meant for the volcanoes in the distance reflected a muddied King instead when a voice interrupted his concentration.
“Junior!”
The King hadn’t heard that name in a long time. He whipped his head around at the slight chance of the Stars granting his earlier wish when the sight of a silly rainbow mohawk grounded him back to reality instead.
“Ah, welcome home.”
“Really? That’s all I get? C’mon baby bro!” Lemmy somersaulted on a star-studded ball and rolled over to Junior’s side. Even though Lemmy’s skill posed no threat to his painting, an evil grin crept onto Junior’s face as he stuck his foot out for old time’s sake, sending Lemmy tumbling into the dirt.
“Blegh! Pfft. Hey! Did ya really need to do that?” Lemmy spat petals out of his mouth as Junior cackled at the image of his mohawk now donning a potted plant quite well.
“To be fair, it was kinda close.” Junior’s curiosity to Lemmy’s missing counterpart now showed face. Glitter drifted off the blue star tattooed on Larry’s cheek as he patted the debris off his twin.
Junior pulled Larry into a hug. "I hear your guys’ shows are doing really well!”
“Yea, it’s a pretty sweet gig. Come by sometime and I’ll get ya a VIP ticket! On the house of course.” Larry winked as he pulled out a tablet revealing details of pre-show access to the exclusive Dark Lands L&L Show. Before Junior could pencil in a date, however, a shrill voice took the stage.
“Ewww~ I’ve heard of mud baths before, but you really take them to the next level~” Wendy’s heels clicked on the pavement as her jewelry blinded the Koopas. Those oversized jewels imitating a wannabe fashionista in the past, now fit her image as the Creative Director of the world’s largest annual fashion show between Kingdoms. “The flowers on your head look kinda cute though! Can you keep still? I wanna take notes~”
Before Junior could laugh at Lemmy’s complaints as Lemmy still posed regardless, a headlock caught him off guard.
“Sup Squirt!” A noogie followed much to Junior’s dismay. Roy’s pink sunglasses matched Wendy’s newest outfit as he wore a mix of a tank-crop top, the so-called ‘trop top’ fad. Ever since Roy modeled the trop top’s first appearance at Wendy's fashion show, the trend took the rest of the world by storm. Some particular Dark Land residents wore them religiously, as Koopa Troopas liked to add specific vowels to the name.
“Hey Pinky~” Junior teased, taking the chance to pay back some of Roy’s earlier roughhousing. At Roy’s blush, Junior eased up on his brother, “It looks good on you though! Wendy, you did such a great job.”
“Awww~ Thanks Junior~” Wendy cooed before a shadow blocked out her own.
“MORTON IS HERE.” A large but gentle claw lifted Roy’s grip off of Junior.
“Ow! Ow! Geez. Let off.” Roy shook his hand in pain while Morton squeezed Junior into a bear hug. A bit of smoke escaped Junior’s mouth at Morton’s strength as Junior wondered if today was the day he’d join his ancestors buried in the garden.
“Hm.” If Iggy hadn’t muttered, Morton’s sheer size could've hidden the lankier Koopa throughout the rest of the day. Before Junior could greet Iggy though, Iggy’s eyes darted elsewhere, as if his chaotic family sparked yet another idea for his inventions.
“Seems like we lost him again.” Junior pushed up Iggy’s glasses sliding down the bridge of his maw. Out of all the inventions that came out of Iggy and Morton’s workshop, Junior questioned why Iggy never bothered to make suitable glasses for himself. Junior supposed he couldn’t judge. After all, the surprising duo imagined the impossible into existence not only for the Dark Lands but also for other Kingdoms. Despite the innovative results, Junior doubted Iggy’s… questionable experiments. Morton epitomized the perfect test subject, which only made Junior worry about his health. Morton never complained though, in fact, the word ‘experiment’ alone triggered excitement instead.
MORTON NEED GOOD TRAINING. MORTON LEARN NEW THINGS. Morton’s reassurance repeated in Junior’s mind, as he gave up asking if Morton was alright after the 100th time. Morton would always shrug it off and threaten another bear hug anyways. Junior figured the two had at least a symbiotic relationship, both exposing one another to various methods and points of view. Well, if Morton insisted it to be beneficial for his wellbeing somehow, Junior let it be.
“~so like, is that everyone?~” Wendy paused polishing Lemmy and Roy’s nails in a hot pink hue.
“Yea! Can we say hi to Papa Bowser and Mama Luigi already? I’ve got so much hot goss to spill~” Lemmy’s imitation of Wendy's voice was met with uneven streaks of yet-to-dry polish on his claws.
“Well, I guess we can. It’s unlike Ludwig to be late though…”
“Excuse my tardiness!” On cue at the mention of his name, blue hair glistened with sweat as the Koopalings laughed at their oldest brother’s composure, or rather the lack of it. Rather unbecoming of the usually well-kept together Koopa, Ludwig bent over to support his knees, gasping and panting for air. Anyone would be surprised if they witnessed the prestigious maestro of the Dark Lands Royal Orchestra in this state.
“Dude! Why are you so out of breath? You’re not slackin’ in the bod department are ya?” Roy slapped Ludwig’s shell in a playful manner, causing him to stumble a bit.
“Grah, you sound just like Father.” Ludwig muttered under his breath. Once he collected himself, he tucked in his button-up shirt and patted down his conductor’s cape. “I sincerely apologize, I had an…idea that needed to be written for today.”
“I bet it’s boringgg.” Larry groaned while Lemmy let out a loud snore in Ludwig’s direction.
“Ugh. Just as abrasive as the cacophony you call ‘music’.” Ludwig waved his conductor’s wand to close Lemmy’s snout shut.
“Hey! You just don’t know a good beat even if it slapped ya in the face.”
“I think it’s literally in my job description to know one brother.”
“Well excuseee me, Mr. Fancypants!”
Before the gathering spiraled into chaos, Junior coughed into his arm, prepping the same voice his Dad taught him to use on misbehaving subjects,
“ALRIGHT. That’s enough.”
A stillness hung in the air, before Roy poked Junior’s side, “Geez. No need to go all King-like on us squirt.”
“Yea, thought Dad was here for a second.”
“~which one?~”
“Oh true. They both were kinda scary when mad huh?”
Giggles and chortles ensued as Junior muttered a quick apology to the trampled patch, promising to tend to it later. “Alright, alright. Sorry everyone. But we’ve been here long enough so let’s not keep them waiting.”
Nods indicated a solemn truce as they made their way further into the gardens.
The rambunctious noise and expected entropy that followed a gathering of Koopalings instead simmered into the volcanos’ soft rumbles in the distance. When Junior swept away the curtain of vines that hid the garden’s centerpiece, in front of the view where greenery and lava met, flowers decorated the mound of earth before them.
They knelt before the stones holding linked tombstones. One stood tall. Its presence, large, rocky, and rough on the edges, protected the ornaments that decorated the grave below. Wrapped in floral wreaths, the other held two candles that burned bright despite the elements.
“So, guess we’ll go first?” The twins held hands as they walked forward. “Hey, Dads. You should’ve seen us today! Remember that trick you helped us make when we were kids?” Lemmy twirled his hands and motioned towards Larry with a ballerina-spin, a rehearsed move developed from many performances on stage.
“Well, we’re able to do it now! Let me show you.” Larry whipped out his tablet and tapped the center of the screen. Muffled gasps, screams, then claps and whistles played from its speakers while the twins high-fived at the spectacle they performed.
“We saved some seats too! Hopefully, you were watching. Otherwise, we’ll be mad!” Lemmy elbowed Larry for their gift.
“The two best seats in the house are always for you guys. We’ll see you there.” Larry laid down two golden tickets before the candles. ‘Lifetime VIP’ in bold print flickered with the flames.
“Well. Uhm.” Larry eyed Lemmy a practiced cue, then both bowed as if closing the finale of their show.
“Thanks for believing in us Daddios.”
“Alright weirdos, buzz off~” Wendy and Roy strut towards the grave.
“Hmm, looks like I have to get you a bigger size Daddy~” Wendy eyed the size of the tombstone compared to the trop-tops she prepared. “But Mama Luigi! It would’ve looked so good on you. I mean like, look at Roy!”
“Hmph!” Roy flexed and posed per Wendy’s signal.
The Koopalings rolled their eyes as Wendy pulled out teacups and placed them between her, Roy, and the tombstones’ footsteps. Groans followed as Wendy talked about all the hot boys she ran across, and as Roy bragged about joining the ‘1000 kg club’ while beating ‘PRs’ in the gym.
“Well, Roy can thank me for his boyfriend now anyways.” That caught the attention of the rest of the Koopalings as she smirked in Roy’s direction.
“Roy! You didn’t tell us you had a boo thang!”
“It’s RECENT. Just drop it.” Roy held a claw to hide his blush, but the redness of his cheeks spread well past his hands. “But, yea Dads. I have a guy I really like and he really reminds me of…well, I hope it’s something like what you guys had.”
At Roy’s downtrodden look, sunglasses slipping off his snout, Wendy clasped a claw around his arm and gently squeezed. The clinks and rings of collected teacups filled the silence with welcome white noise that indicated Iggy and Morton’s turn to come forward.
“Hello Fathers. I hope you’re doing well. I wanted to enlighten you all on what I’ve been up to.”
The Koopalings tried their best to follow the concepts Iggy breezed past. They got a strange feeling they were in a lecture room somehow rather than the gardens, as Iggy continued to talk about the math and mechanics behind his inventions. Amidst talks of theory, Iggy pulled out a contraption of candles similar to the ones burning below.
“It’s a prototype, but it should be better than this.” He flipped a switch that lit the candle's wicks.
"Aw, what’s wrong with the candles right now?” The artificial yet realistic flames drew the interest, except for Junior.
“Well, we don’t want to accidentally burn down the whole garden someday.”
“But it’s just a little flame!”
“Sometimes, even the tiniest spark can lead to drastic change.” Iggy directed his words into the distance, which confused Junior as to whether he received a scolding or a lesson, let alone if he was even talking to him. "Besides, we can still keep lighting real candles too, just remember to put them out."
Iggy patted Morton’s shell, “Did you want to say something, Morton?” To the Koopalings’ surprise, Morton stayed quiet. As if words were too brash for the moment, he instead opted to place two Plushies resembling their fathers’ younger years next to each other. “It’s quite alright. You don’t have to.”
Morton gave one last squeeze to the plush toys before letting go.
Ludwig coughed into his sleeves. “I apologize, Fathers, for not bringing something tangible, but hopefully you’ll like what I’ve prepared regardless.”
Per his wand’s command, turquoise frills meshed together with black and white keys as an ornamental piano took the stage. A familiar melody took hold of the Koopalings. A reprise of their Papa’s lullaby hovered in the air, as the grass below invited them to nostalgic slumber.
Only petals and leaves swayed in silent applause once Ludwig lifted his hands from the keyboard. As soon as the last note dissipated into thin air, he stood from the bench and bowed before the gifts.
Only Junior remained.
Junior gripped the canvas in his claws and trudged towards the memorial.
Each step grew heavier, burdened by his thoughts:
Am I a good King like you, Dad?
Am I a good brother like you, Papa?
Are you proud of us? Of me?
A part of him knew those worries to be ridiculous, but that allowed earlier ruminations he put aside to creep forward. Papa Luigi loved the floral scents. King Dad practically bathed in volcanic ash every day. His mind’s dam collapsed before the waterfall of memories: Papa Luigi would caress his mane humming the lullaby as the late King Dad's plastron provided a place for them all to rest. In the midst of childhood chaos, against all odds: a human and Koopa, a King and a commoner, his hero and his nemesis, loneliness brought them together.
An epiphany punched him.
The painting demanded his fathers’ presence, the subject obliviously avoided before. His skill acted as a double-edged sword; he could do his fathers justice, but that in itself would destroy him. The want and pain at the chance of seeing them again spiraled together as if he’d be able to jump into the canvas and run into their embrace once more.
“Junior?”
He tried to respond, but the lump in his throat grew bigger at each attempt. His breath sagged lower, and steam rose from each heave. New dew watered blades of grass below. The source, his chin.
“You! We agreed on no crying!”
“If you cry…t-then…!”
The Koopalings centered around Junior and huddled close. The flowers stretched as if to offer their petals to soak in their tears. Ludwig handed over an already damp handkerchief to Junior as his fathers’ words came to mind; throughout the good and bad, highs and lows, they had family to lean on.
Although stuck in a pile of messy Koopas, Junior managed to let out a small breath. “Sorry.”
“Hey! You know how much Dad hates that word.”
Junior sputtered out a laugh at the contradictions that intertwined regardless of sense much like their fathers: How the thoughtfulness of his apology followed by the remark on not needing to apologize at all for simply feeling, felt ridiculous yet needed all the same. How Junior’s intended joyful painting needed a melancholic touch to showcase raw, vulnerable happiness. How time took them away for memories to stay.
Junior let out a grunt and crumpled the sturdy canvas into a ball.
“Junior! It was like, so perfect though~” Wendy dabbed her face with a pink tissue.
“Ah, it’s actually nowhere close to being done.”
“Really? You just keep on getting better lil bro.” Lemmy shrugged at Junior’s standards.
“Thanks, but turns out I’m missing some pretty important pieces.”
“Like a name?” Iggy asked.
His initial inspiration, his home's soil caressing the greenery below, painted the picture. How the remnants of the past's ashes remain, carry on so flowers bloom.
“Nah, I've had one in mind for a long time.”
