Chapter Text
Gaster laid his baby down gently, beside the young prince, who watched with wide sockets full of curiosity as the little bundle moved.
“Gentle,” the king murmured to his son as tiny toddler hands reached out to the bundle, touching the blankets. “Look, Rus. This is Edge, the captain’s new baby.”
“egg,” Rus tried, and King Dings stifled a chuckle as Captain Gaster tried to cover his distraught.
“Yes, Edge,” the King laughed. “And just like his daddy protects me, he will protect you when you grow up.”
“he so little?” Rus protested, looking up at his father with concern in those wide sockets. “he get hurt.”
“He’ll grow up big and strong, don’t you worry,” the king reassured him as Rus crawled closer.
The infant had wriggled free from his blanket, looking back at him as he kicked his feet, soft red glowing from fresh sockets. Rus smiled at him, and the baby made a soft noise back.
“hi, little eggy,” Rus cooed, patting the baby with all the gentleness he could muster. “no worry, rus protec’ you.”
“No, your highness. He will protect you, ” the captain corrected him
“no! rus protec’!” The little prince insisted, to the amusement of the older monsters.
“Well, points for enthusiasm, I suppose,” King Dings laughed, pulling his son into his lap.
Captain Gaster said nothing. But he was smiling.
“okay, egg, your turn.”
Edge took the book from Rus, eyeing him dubiously over the top of it. The Prince gave him a gap-toothed smile, his slightly-too big striped robe sliding off one shoulder.
“I dunno, Russy,” Edge sighed, looking over the letters on the page. “My dad says warriors don’t needta read.”
“well, my dad says everyone should learn to read, and my dad trumps yours,” Rus pressed. “you’re six, and that’s when i started learning, so you should learn now, too. what word did we learn yesterday?”
“You taught me ‘make’.” Edge said. “M-A-I-K.”
“M-A-K-E,” Rus corrected. “find it on the page.”
Edge plopped on Rus’ bed, sockets narrowed in concentration, and Rus beamed at him as he searched and haltingly pointed out the words he thought were right.
“Here?”
Rus looked where he pointed. “no, but that’s close. that one says ‘made’, it’s the same but in the past.”
Edge grumbled, shutting the book and tossing it onto the blankets. “Well, what do you know? You’re only a little older than me, Russy, so how can you teach me?”
“it’s okay!” Rus picked up the book, moving closer and bumping his shoulder. “we’ll just read together, okay?”
Edge took a few more tries, but in the end, he continued the lesson. It wasn’t long before he was reading along with Rus every evening before bed.
Edge crossed his arms, narrowing his sockets.
Rus sighed, adjusting his rough-hewn tunic. Funny enough, the clothes he used to play dress-up as a commoner often fit him better than his royal robes--the tailors were constantly struggling to keep up with his growth spurts, and something about commoner’s clothes meant they were just more versatile.
“come on, egghead. you don’t think i can just teleport past you?”
“I know you can,” Edge scoffed, his voice crackling just slightly (curse his teenage body, he can’t wait to lose his stripes) as he stood squarely in the way of the back gate Rus was trying to sneak out of. “Nevertheless, my prince, it’s my duty to keep you safe, and I must do what it takes to do so. And that means I forbid you from disguising yourself and running out into the village with the common folk.”
“you forbid me?” Rus chuckled, reaching out and flicking him between the sockets. “yeah, grow a few feet and then maybe you can try to stop me, kiddo.”
“I’m only a year and a half younger than you!” Edge huffed, throwing his arms out and scooting into Rus’ path as he tried to move around him. “I’m almost out of my stripes!”
“you’re 12,” Rus pointed out. “you ain’t any closer to outta your stripes than i am. look, i’m tired, okay? they got me morning, noon, and night on horseback riding, king lessons, geography, politics. this is my only day off an’ i just wanna not be the prince for once. you can either tell on me or come with me, but i’m going.”
Edge hesitated. It was true, the prince’s lessons had increased in severity sharply since his 14th birthday. Rus was looking tired more often than not, falling asleep in his lessons, studying late into the night. Edge was working hard in his junior guardsmen training, but it was a few years away yet that he would be old enough to start the rigorous intensity required to truly train. Right now it was just basic movements, and he had plenty of free time to read for fun.
He doesn’t think any of the reading Rus does now is for fun.
“...We can go to the bookstore in town, and then straight back,” he conceded, and Rus brightened at that, grinning at him. He squeaked in surprise as Rus pulled him in for a tight hug, knocking the wind from him.
“thanks, edge,” Rus muttered, and Edge couldn’t help but smile.
Rus only calls him by his name when he’s really done something right.
"you know, you're mine forever."
Edge chuckled, but didn't argue, continuing his practice.
Not that he wouldn't argue with Rus if he didn't agree. He was inclined to speak his mind to Rus, and often seemed lately that he was the older one.
Rus kind of liked that.
"seriously. that got decided for us when you were born. you were practically made for me."
"It's hardly as clandestine as you make it sound," Edge protested with a laugh as he twirled his staff, crouching before thrusting forward at the training dummy, swinging the pole arm around quickly.
"oh? you don't think it's destiny?" Rus asked, humming as he pulled at his new robes.
In a few months he would don his first robes without stripes and begin the final phase of his lessons, so he could ascend the throne and let his father retire. It was a scary thought--he hardly felt ready today, the clumsy kid he'd always been wasn't nearly poised or graceful enough to be a king.
Edge, on the other hand, was the picture of grace, not a movement wasted, attacking in precise strikes and Rus pities anyone who ever tries to hurt him because Edge would dispose of them in a fastidious manner, for certain. It made a flutter of excitement and a rush of adrenaline run through Rus to think about Edge protecting him in such a way.
Edge was breathing somewhat heavily as he stood, looking over at him with a raised brow. "I didn't say that. The fates must be at work in some manner if I'm here with you."
Rus sputtered, his face flushing at the insinuated flirtation. It was unlikely it was meant the way he was taking it, Edge is bluntly unaware of how to flirt, but it didn't stop Rus' soul from skipping a beat when Edge stepped closer, brushing a fallen leaf from the shoulder of Rus' robes.
"You don't have to sit here with me while I train, Your Highness."
"call me rus, when we're alone?" Rus asked suddenly, nearly pleading, and it was a silly thing to ask but he wasn't about to take it back. He cocked his head to the side a bit. "please?"
Edge's expression, usually stoic, was lit with surprise at the request, but he quickly recovered into that unfairly attractive smirk. "Really? This coming from the man who still calls me Egg?"
"egg, affectionate ," Rus protested, crossing his arms. "besides, i'm the prince, i do what i want."
"Yes, you do," Edge agreed. "You're quite the handful, Rus, on any given day."
Rus grinned, dropping his arms. His name was simple, only three letters, but coming from Edge is sounded almost poetic.
"you don't seem to mind handling me, on any given day...edge."
A smirk, a chuckle, a shake of his head. Edge returned to his training with a slight bit more bounce to his step, or maybe Rus was imagining that.
“let me in.”
“My lord, it really isn’t a sight for a prince--”
“i didn’t ask your opinion on what i should see,” Rus snapped at the guard. “i didn’t even ask to go in. i ordered you to let. me. in . or have you forgotten who i am?”
The dogs looked at each other nervously, but with his 18th birthday he’d shed his stripes and it was by decree of the king himself that his son was no longer to be treated as a child. Rus’ word meant as much as the king’s, unless the king actively deemed it otherwise.
Dogamy shuffled aside, opening the door and bowing slightly as Rus swept past him swiftly.
“thank you.” Rus turned to the handful of other people in Edge’s bedchamber. “leave us.”
Unlike the dogs, these monsters didn’t hesitate, scrambling around to leave the room, leaving Rus to walk around to sit on the edge of the bed beside his companion, so still and covered in bandages.
He wasn’t still for long, almost as if he sensed Rus’ presence, his one unwrapped socket opened to reveal that familiar crimson light.
“hey, egghead,” Rus said softly. “how’s your head?”
“Feels like it’s been split with a spear,” he said dryly. “You don’t need to see me like this, your highness.”
“fuck that nonsense, it’s just us,” Rus scolded him. “i told you to call me rus when we’re alone.”
“I’m sorry...Rus,” he managed, reaching his hand up. It hovered in the air a moment before he clenched his fist and brought it back down. “It isn’t pretty.”
“yeah, but i bet i can do better than that hack my dad calls a doctor.”
Edge turned his head, an invitation, a show of the lifetime of trust they had built together. Rus unwrapped the bandages with gentle hands, sucking in a breath at the mess of cracks and marrow beneath.
Edge stiffened as he brushed the tender cracks with his fingertips, but to his credit he did not flinch away. He was rewarded with the relief of green magic alighting his wound, knitting together the bone. Not for the first time, Rus wondered how a monster only barely 17 can have such a high pain tolerance, how he can be so composed. He would be better suited to royalty than Rus, the way his height makes him slouch and his manners never seem to stick. His memory is terrible, but Edge can memorize whole books of poetry, every name he’s ever heard, every face he’s ever seen. Rus can hardly remember what he ate for breakfast.
“I’ve failed you, Rus,” Edge said softly, as Rus’ hand fell away. One jagged crack remained, healed over as well as Rus could muster. “They’ll never let me guard you now. I can never take my place by your side.”
“bullshit,” Rus insisted. “it’s just a crack. you were training and it got out of hand, it isn’t like you lost a war.”
“No, maybe not, but…” Edge brought his hand up to wave over his sockets. “I can’t see from it.”
It was then that Rus noticed the eyelight of his injured socket, the way it glowed so much dimmer, fuzzier, than the other. He smiled sympathetically.
“c’mon, egg. i’ve seen you train blindfolded. this won’t stop you.”
“No, you need someone who--”
Rus shot him a look, silencing him. “let me rephrase that. i will have nobody else as my personal guard, so either you train hard enough to be acceptable, or i go unprotected.”
He chuckled as Edge sat up swiftly, shock and outrage on his face. “You! You are--!”
“the prince, the future king? the one who gets the final say in just about anything at all? yeah. i am.” Rus drew his hand up to rest on Edge’s cheekbone. “and you’re mine. you were promised to me the day you were born, and i don’t want anybody else. so suck it up, buttercup, and get better quickly. i ascend the throne in two years and you’d better be standing with me.”
“You realize that sounds like a proposal and not a motivational speech?” Edge snarked at him.
“does it?” Rus hummed, quirking a brow and smirking that infuriating, secretive smirk. “weird. get well soon, egg.”
Edge could only watch him leave, his soul beating in his chest as he felt himself flush. The thought was nearly insolent, him and Rus, how could he even entertain the thought?
Still, to hear that Rus only wanted him...was more than enough to earn at least one daydream that it could someday be so.
Edge can indulge in his daydreams. He’ll start training in the morning.