Archive of Our Own

Bad

From his grief, Bad created an empire. 

Skeppy, his soulmate across different lives, died in a battle, shattering violently into hundreds of diamond shards. Foolish was there as a witness. For almost a thousand years following Skeppy’s death, Foolish made let Bad live with him. He didn’t trust the demon to be on his own, especially when Bad was still in shock and emitting erratic behaviour. Bad was thankful for Foolish’s kindness, if not mildly surprised by it since their friendship had been more of a friendly rivalry for millenia. They became closer in those years of grief. 

After some debating and 900 years had passed, Bad decided to head out on his own. Before he left, Foolish gave Bad a small, bronze locket. 

Bad looked up at Foolish, the totem god a bit quieter than usual. Slowly Bad opened it, hesitant. Inside with a bright smile, as if captured in a moment, was a small portrait of Skeppy. There was an open sky behind him, cornflowers and gold in his hair with diamond flecks upon his cheeks. Each fleck were the actual shards Bad had been carrying for years. 

“You… made this?” Bad whispered.

“Yup. I figured… Well, you don’t have a proper painting of him anywhere, so… I guess this is my parting gift to you after you’ve lived off my land for centuries, scumbag,” Foolish shrugged, weakly punching Bad in the shoulder. 

Bad smiled and did his very best not to cry. “Aww, thank you, Foolish. This-- means a lot. Really.”

“Pfft, don’t-- don’t get sappy on me now! I still need to get back at you for defacing all my statues,” Foolish scoffed, looking away sharply. He crossed his arms, doing his best to remain stoic.

Bad laughed, holding the necklace against his chest. He put it on, lifting up all his hair so he could clip it properly. He gave Foolish a hug goodbye with another profound and sincere thank you before heading off. Maybe Foolish felt a little bittersweet at the departure, but he wouldn’t ever admit that. 

Bad wandered around the world for a bit, and when being alone got to be too overbearing, he decided to shake things up a bit. 

He became an emperor. 

It was simple, really. He just waltzed into a throne room, killed the king, and then declared himself the king. It was foolproof. He kept a good kingdom going for a few decades after that. Bad rather liked his reputation as “the Fallen King” too. An angel drenched in darkness was a wonderful title to hold. Countless kingdoms feared him, and lords handed their land over with just the threat of invasion. It meant he got to expand his land little by little while rarely engaging in battle. He got to leap from palace to palace, manor to manor, surrounded by luxury and the highest wealth, and there wasn’t really a downside to it! 

(Others would call him crazy for enjoying the assassination attempts, but that was beside the point.)

Soon Bad’s kingdom was called an empire and he was thus hailed as an emperor. Some called his reign as a demon-emperor predictably evil and brutal, but others said that he was very kind. Famine was sparse, and when it did happen, the palace had enough reserves to help out anyone in need thanks to his careful planning, along with the help of his advisers. Being immortal and holding the memories of past lives did come in handy. 

Revolts were few, and those that did take place were often by the ultra-religious. It was a natural reaction, but they (Bad suspected) just hadn’t considered the fact that their god wanted to unleash him out onto the world. Maybe their god thought Bad deserved a bit of enrichment! (That wasn’t the case at all, but it was a funny thought.)

Foolish visited once and rolled his eyes as Bad smugly perched on his throne.

“Glad to see you’re doing well then, scumbag,” he said wryly.

“I’m doing very well, Foolish,” Bad laughed. 

Neither mentioned the portraits of Skeppy he had commissioned over the years that donned the palace walls.

***

Etoiles 

When Etoiles first saw the emperor, it was when his kingdom officially became a part of the empire. There was no battle or invasion, just a paper saying that the old king was handing over the crown. The emperor would soon be arriving into the city, and a celebration was being prepared.  

Etoiles was understandably nervous: a newfound ruler often reigned with an iron fist so there was no risk of rebellion. Etoiles was first and foremost a protector of his people: he could not serve a man who would harm them. He was fully prepared to die in a rebellion if he had to. 

As people gathered for a view of the new emperor and his army, Etoiles helped calm the peasants and preening nobles until he was called over to the front gates. He rushed to position just as they were heaved open. There was loud shouting and cheering from the people, and everyone was straining for a good look. Not only was this the first emperor in decades, but rumours had been spread about him, and everyone was curious. Though Etoiles tried not to be a gossip (who was he kidding, he was totally a gossip), he couldn’t help himself from eagerly listening in on it too, and was undeniably curious about the emperor as well. 

Through the gates came a battalion of men, and at the forefront, riding on a great horse of pure black with a red and golden bridal, was the emperor. He held the reins in one hand and looked around with a beaming smile, waving at the crowds with white gloved hands. He wore a long black cloak with a hood pulled over his head, golden threads with red jewels hanging from the end. He wore a white blouse with a ruffled collar, a diamond at the centre of a red ribbon. The emperor’s riding pants were embezzled with various red buckles and gold. Etoiles could only spot this because of how the emperor sat on the saddle though, because mostly covering the pants was a long, heavy skirt. Crowning the emperor’s head on top of the hood was a halo that spilled from its edges. Etoiles tried not to gape at the sight: the rumours had not been nasty or exaggerated comments. 

Their emperor was a fallen angel. 

The rest of the emperor’s barrage marched in, the horses swinging their heads in elegant arcs, the knights bouncing along at the short trot they rode at. Etoiles almost felt inferior in their presence. They gleamed with silver armour, and the horses’ tack was rich and made of fine leather and dye. The standing knights had to hold back the crowd.

Etoiles gripped his spear tight. He watched the parade trot away, the emperor soon leaving his vision. 

Hours later after everything had mostly settled down, Etoiles was out patrolling the streets. Some peasants lingered to buy food, and there were a few of the emperor’s knights showing themselves off to the people. Etoiles did his best not to roll his eyes. The horses pranced, seeming to enjoy the attention as well. 

By a fruit stand he spotted a little girl wearing a beret walk past a display of apples. His brows raised as he caught her hand snaking up to it and tucked away an apple. Unfortunately, the shopkeeper also saw it. The man yelled at her and grabbed her by the apron before she could run away. She let out a fuss, trying to kick him in the face, but his hands grabbed her before she could. Etoiles ran to stop the man, but before he could reach them, a great figure rose from the shadows and spilled across the air between them. Etoiles skidded to a stop, his mouth gaping open. The shopkeeper had much of the same face, and the little girl dropped the apple she held in fright. 

The shadow collected itself into a neat little figure, slim and tall, with a halo dripping over his head. Etoiles felt sick at the sight watching the creature- the emperor- tower over the little girl. 

The shopkeeper bowed. The little girl took a moment before registering the action and doing a clumsy curtsy. 

“You Highness, I-- didn’t mean to harm her. I often don’t know my own strength,” the shopkeep stammered. 

The emperor hummed a thoughtful sound. When he spoke, Etoiles was taken aback by just how kind he sounded. 

“Perhaps. But don’t bother this girl again, okay?”

“Yes, Highness,” the man murmured. He stepped back behind his stand, his eyes kept low. 

The emperor smiled down at the little girl and stooped down to pick up the fallen apple. He handed it back to her. She cautiously took it, hardly daring to avoid eye contact like the shopkeeper had, not knowing it was proper etiquette to avoid contact with the emperor, or even lords and ladies. 

“There. Now what’s your name?” the emperor asked. 

The little girl had a smile twitch across her lips. “Pomme.”

Etoiles had to bite back a laugh at the irony, but the emperor didn’t seem to notice the connection between her name and the fruit she had stolen. Instead he merely grinned. 

“What a pretty name! Now, this apple is a bit beat up after being dropped, don’t you think? Let’s get you a better one.”

Pomme stood by the emperor’s side as he chose a rosy red apple for her and traded it out with the more beaten one. She smiled sweetly. Etoiles saw with a frown that as the emperor went through a small handbag to dole out coins for the shopkeeper, that the demon was placing far too much silver on the counter for a single apple. But the shopkeeper did not protest, nor did he look at the coins with greedy eyes. He simply bowed his head and whispered, 

“Thank you, Highness.”

“You are very welcome. Now, run along, Pomme. It’s almost dark,” the emperor told the girl, pressing four gold coins into her palm with a smile. It was the amount Etoiles got paid for his service in a year. 

Her eyes widened. “Thank you, your Highness!”

The emperor laughed and watched her scamper away. Etoiles’s eyes followed her until she disappeared, and when he looked back, he saw the emperor had caught his eye. The emperor smiled and waved at the knight, before he was gone. 

Just that little acknowledgement left Etoiles feeling breathless. 

***

After the emperor’s first visit to his city, Etoiles registered to join the emperor’s personal army and began to live in the palace barracks. Etoiles found that he admired the newfound emperor, even though many others were frightened and sceptical about having a demon on the throne. Despite light disagreements Etoiles had with some of the emperor’s laws and rulings, he displaced the flawed system of the old kings and fixed it up nicely.

Etoiles quickly rose to a rank high enough that he was sometimes part of a small group of knights that escorted the emperor around out in public. More than enough times did a knight have to scurry off to buy the emperor a muffin, or maybe the emperor would get distracted by something shiny, or maybe even he’d sit in deep conversation with the elder lady who owned the muffin establishment. Etoiles couldn’t laugh or smile while on duty outside of the palace, and it took every bit of his strength not to do so. 

Bad lavished on his horse a good deal, the same horse that he had rode into Etoiles’s old kingdom on. That horse probably lived a better life than most aristocrats; it knew it too. The thing looked incredibly proud. Etoiles was assigned a white horse with speckled grey spots who was riddled with anxiety that he was trying to soothe. 

In passing, Etoiles tried not to seize up whenever the emperor’s gaze passed over him. The emperor’s smile was sweet, and his eyes glowed whenever he looked at him. Etoiles, on the one occasion he had to go buy a muffin, scolded himself by the stupid way his cheeks heated when the emperor’s gloves fingers brushed his. He had never been like this before, and he didn’t understand why he was suddenly getting worked up. 

But it wasn’t just because of the emperor’s funny little habits and adequate lawmaking that Etoiles admired him for. Etoiles was enraptured by the prowess the emperor showed when in battle, and he wanted to go up against it himself. It was almost like a feeling of lust came over him whenever he desired a fight. It was a burning crave that was sparked like a fire. Maybe others noticed how his eyes followed and lingered on the emperor, merely out of sheer curiosity and a desire to know more about how a fallen angel may react in a fight. Especially a 1v1 fight. He thought he was going to pass out once when he realized the emperor had been watching a sparring match, and when he exited the arena, the emperor smiled at him. 

“You have admirable skill,” Bad said, and walked away. 

Etoiles quickly fanned himself, breathless, not caring in the slightest that his friends would not stop teasing him for it. Maybe Etoiles got a teensy weensy bit of a parasocial relationship with the emperor after that (more than before), but he was known to have unfaltering loyalty to anyone he latched onto. It was both a weakness and a strength. Etoiles had decided he loved and admired the emperor deeply. He was funny, kind, and good. 

Etoiles quickly rose as one of the most competent fighters of the guard. He did his best as a stationed guard or a knight in battle. He stopped crowds of angry religious people that tried to jump his emperor, and led Bad away to safety with the help of another knight he didn’t know very well. He even paid attention to what muffins the emperor might like best. 

Yet the emperor never really noticed him, of course. No, the emperor was far too aloof to notice anyone outside of the council. Etoiles heard rumours that the emperor even doodled on treaty scrolls. Etoiles couldn’t help but laugh at both the emperor’s behaviour and how appalled others reacted to it. 

Perhaps it was Etoiles’s lingering eyes on the emperor or his competent fighting that made the palace council approach him as the emperor’s personal guardsman. Maybe it was others noting his pure and noble intentions, and that no matter what, Etoiles would always put the people first: even if it was before their emperor. 

***

Bad

After the first few months of his rule as emperor, Bad’s council recommended he get a personal guard. He found it pointless, but they insisted. Bad left it up to them to choose a member of the guard for him. 

One afternoon in the throne room, they escorted their chosen knight in. The knight’s hair was white with dark green skin, and it almost looked as if golden stars were on his cheeks and hidden in his hair. The knight knelt before the throne and bowed his head.

“My liege. I am Etoiles, your newly assigned personal knight.”

Bad tilted his head and considered the knight carefully. Ah, he was fairly certain he recognized the man. He had been stationed as a sort of… bodyguard for him occasionally. 

Bad bit back a sigh.

He hoped the man wouldn’t be a bore. 

From then on, Etoiles was almost always by his side. Etoiles followed Bad around the palace, stood by his side at the throne and in meetings, and even stood guard outside his bedroom door. The knight was certainly competent and knowledgeable at least. He was curious as well. One of the first questions Etoiles had asked Bad was, 

“Can I see you fight?”

Bad had quirked a brow, but was slightly amused by how it sounded like the question had nearly burst out of his knight. “I’m not much of a fighter,” was all he said. 

“Non, I have seen you on the battlefield before!”

Bad smiled. “I think someone I once knew would laugh if he heard you say I was any good at fighting.” (Skeppy would be appalled, actually.)

Etoiles shifted on his feet. “Maybe some other time then, my liege.”

Bad nodded. “Maybe.”

Bad couldn’t tell if he was becoming friends with the knight or not. Etoiles was very dutiful in that he never spoke out of line or interrupted; he always waited until Bad gave him permission to speak. But despite this and their contrasting moral stances, Etoiles was surprisingly funny and out of pocket. Whenever Etoiles caught Bad smiling from a joke, he smiled too, like he wasn’t sure he had been funny before. It was strange. Bad had never met a human who was so… open in his presence. Etoiles held no animosity towards him for being a demon or a conqueror. He didn’t even seem to question Bad’s strange humour or quirks. 

When Bad really thought about it, maybe he had been lacking in social interaction outside of Foolish for so long that he naturally gravitated towards his knight who was always there, even if it was because of assigned duty. Maybe Bad chose to think Etoiles smiled at him because he liked the emperor for who he was, and not because he was simply being polite. 

One night as Bad was sitting in front of a fireplace consulting documents he asked, 

“What do you seek from me, Etoiles?”

The knight, standing across from Bad so he could look at the door in case anyone came in, seemed taken aback by the question. 

“I am afraid I don’t understand the question, my liege,” he said plainly after a moment. 

“Well…” Bad began carefully. “I think I have worked out your moral grounds, and you have to know that I don’t fit those morals most of the time. I don’t follow human standards, after all. What makes you want to serve or talk to me?”

A crooked smile formed itself on Etoiles’s lips. He tilted his head in thought and said, 

“We may have our differences, yes, but I mostly agree with how you govern the empire; you have kept a lot of us safe. I’m really not trying to flatter you when I say that I like who you are. …And if it is okay for me to say so, I find myself curious about you too, my liege.”

Bad laughed.

“You can speak freely in front of me if you’d like, Etoiles. In fact, I’d prefer it; it keeps me sane,” he smiled. 

He heard the knight chuckle. “Very well, my liege.”

***

Etoiles 

Upon becoming the emperor’s personal guard, Etoiles was perfectly content to silently do his duty as was instructed by the emperor’s council. He didn’t dare think of doing otherwise. The honour he had been given was too enormous of an opportunity to mess up. To be this close to the emperor at all times? It was incredible. But after barely a day or two of doing his exact duties, the emperor suddenly started talking to him in casual conversation. 

They were in the throne room when it happened, and the emperor was looking visibly bored. He suddenly sat upright and asked Etoiles very gravely if, as a cucumber, he was edible. The question had taken Etoiles so off guard that he let out a sharp laugh. He immediately apologised once he realised he had basically just mocked the emperor, only for Bad to laugh as well. (The answer was no, he was not edible. Probably.)

Over the weeks after that, Bad made sure Etoiles was properly accommodated for. If he couldn’t make it back to the barracks at night, Bad made sure there was an antechamber by his bedroom he could temporarily sleep in. Once Bad realised Etoiles often needed sugar to keep his energy up, Bad would hand him a small pouch of candy or sugar cubes throughout the day. Etoiles was taken aback the first time it happened and stared at his palm dumbly after the emperor walked away. The palace treats tasted divine though, and he certainly didn’t complain. 

Occasionally if they were by themselves, Bad asked Etoiles to tell him a story. Fantasy or not, the emperor didn’t care. He wanted to know about the kingdom’s Etoiles had been to, the battles he had fought in, and any fairy tales he had been told as a child. The council noticed this dynamic and told Bad they could get him his very own fool (a sort of jester) instead of a knight. To that, Bad only shook his head. Etoiles was flattered, but also confused. He still didn’t understand Bad very well, so he strove even further to serve the best way he could.  

During banquets, Etoiles would notice Bad feeling overwhelmed by all the noise, and he took it upon himself to escort him out. Etoiles learned to bring a plate of food with them as well, because Bad was keen to eat almost anything in sight, much to his knight’s distress. He had to keep Bad from eating candlesticks one to many times, which was honestly not what he saw himself doing when he was called to serve the emperor.

“Please, please, my liege, I am fairly certain that wax will upset your stomach,” Etoiles implored, already desperate, as a clear bite had already been taken out of one. 

Bad frowned, still chewing the wax. “It looked good though,” he said. 

Etoiles was at a loss for words for a solid five seconds. “I-- Just put it down. Please. I will go get you some actual food.”

Much to his relief, the emperor placed the half-eaten candlestick back where it belonged. 

Aside from those strange habits, the most endearing part of Bad was when he would go around shouting “fudge!” or “muffin!” Etoiles held in his laughter as other workers around the palace began to take on those sayings as well. 

“This ragamuffin!” the emperor would murmur incredulously under his breath when a lord or lady was being obscene in his presence. 

“Would you like me to deal with them, my liege?” Etoiles would ask, a smile on his lips. 

“No. I’ll deal with them myself,” Bad would reply. 

That usually meant stealing their manor’s furniture and keeping it for himself. Etoiles personally would have liked to threaten someone with his sword.

Whatever kept his emperor happy, though.

***

Etoiles (again)

Bad clutched a painting close to his chest while walking down the long palace walls. His cape trailed behind him, and Etoiles walked politely a few steps back, hands behind his back. He didn’t ask any questions about the painting the emperor held, even though usually someone else would have done it for him instead. 

The pair stopped before a section of the hall with tall windows that looked out to the courtyard. Bad looked up at a bare patch of wall that was otherwise decorated with candles, gold framed mirrors, flowers, and landscapes. The walls were a deep navy blue with a quartz lining. 

Etoiles stepped forward. “If I may, my liege, would you like me to hang that instead?” he asked.

Bad smiled, but it seemed thin. He shook his head. Etoiles readjusted himself into a less open posture upon realising that maybe he had made a mistake with the suggestion. 

“No. I’m alright, Etoiles, but thank you,” the emperor replied. 

He stepped forward and took out a nail from his pocket. With perfect precision, Bad flicked the nail into the wall, and it embedded itself there, a trail of shadows dissipating from its path. Reaching up with his tiptoes, Bad hung the painting there. He made sure to adjust it just right before stepping back and admiring it. Etoiles looked up at it as well.

In its gold and ornate frame a young man smiled back. It was painted with such beautiful realism that Etoiles could almost imagine he was there with them. The sun glinted off of his diamond speckled cheeks, and he seemed carefree. He had light brown skin that was flushed, and dark hair that blew in the wind. It was certainly an odd choice for a portrait. Etoiles spared a glance towards his emperor. He was taken aback for a moment: Bad’s face held undeniably soft and loving affection in it, his smile gentle in a way Etoiles had never seen before. It was a loving expression above all. Etoiles glanced back up at the man smiling down at them. 

Etoiles thought that, perhaps, he could ask about this man another time. 

Bad turned on his heels and continued down the hall. Etoiles followed. He didn’t dare say another word regarding the painting. 

***

Etoiles carried scrolls from the council to Bad’s bed chambers one day, frowning at the absence of guards at the open bedroom doors. Bad did prefer to be rid of people he did not know, Etoiles had observed, so he tried not to be too worried as he walked in. He let out a horrified gasp, as sitting at his bed table, Bad had a dagger driven into his arm. 

“My liege!” He shouted, swiftly discarding the scrolls on the nearest surface he could find. To his dismay, Bad seemed perfectly cheerful.

“Oh, Etoiles! Thank you for bringing those. No need to worry about this thing,” he said, gesturing at the dagger through his arm. “Since I tend to tank a lot in battles using totems of undying, I wanted to see how long it takes me to heal without them. With a fully pierced wound, it should take a minute or two.”

Bad wrapped his hand around the hilt to pull it out before Etoiles swiftly interrupted him with, “My liege! Maybe you should let me do this; I’m used to pulling out weapons from wounds.”

“Oh, it’s alright. Like I said, this is a test. A real blade most likely wouldn’t be professionally pulled out.”

“Yes, but I am your knight, and I must keep you safe from harm. Even if that harm comes from yourself.”

“Rules, rules,” Bad tsk-ed, but seemed to resign himself to Etoiles’s help by placing his chin on his hand. 

Etoiles held back a sigh, his gaze lingering on the emperor in exasperation. 

Carefully, to brace the emperor’s arm, he placed his fingers against Bad’s palm. Etoiles wore gloves, so he couldn’t feel what the strange essence that made up Bad’s physical being felt like. He grasped the dagger’s hilt and considered the wound for a moment with a wince. He then pulled up cleanly and without jarring the wound even further. He quickly gathered up one of Bad’s cloak’s from the ground and wrapped it around the wound that began to gush with black blood, when Bad laughed and pushed him back. Etoiles felt himself flush with slight embarrassment. 

“It’s alright. I don’t have much blood in my body, actually. This is just the stuff that makes up my body.”

“That almost makes it sound worse,” Etoiles said, watching Bad carefully dab away what was bleeding out of him. It was a rather off-putting sight. 

“Well, don’t try to understand it,” Bad smiled. 

Etoiles dutifully did not. 

Luckily the wound did heal on its own, and Etoiles was saved from having to take the emperor to a doctor. 

***

Before battle, part of Etoiles’s duty was to help the emperor put on his armour. Bad was a pain about it though, and always tried to put it on himself. Sometimes he didn’t want to wear any armour at all. Unfortunately, Etoiles was just as stubborn and insistent to get at least one half of his duties properly done since Bad was so good at taking down all his personal walls. 

“My liege,” he gritted out, trying not to snap, “what was the point of hiring me if I can’t do what I was assigned for?” 

“You are doing what you were assigned for!” Bad exclaimed while shoving Etoiles away with his foot, who was currently trying to tie the greaves onto his legs. 

“The fuck? No I’m not!”

“You keep me company,” Bad conceded. “Which I want more than a protector.”

“While I am glad I can provide that, I am still a protector, which is what this armour is supposed to do!”

“I have totems!”

“I’d like for you to have to use less of them!” Etoiles shot back. 

He was surprised when Bad abruptly stopped with a huff, dropping back limply onto his cot with dramatic flair. 

“Fine,” he huffed, and Etoiles felt like he was dealing with a toddler, not a conquer. 

He sighed and tied the greaves around Bad’s propped up leg finally. He concentrated on not fumbling with his fingers while tying the leather straps together. He pulled Bad up by the hands once he was done. After Etoiles put on the chestplate, he had to pull out Bad’s hair from the armour piece and arrange it back to how Bad liked it. He felt highly important being able to handle Bad’s hair like this. Bad held his hair in high esteem, only begrudgingly letting his valet’s braid and ponytail it. Otherwise, he let it hang loosely down his back.

With that done, Etoiles took Bad’s hand and carefully fit his gloves on. His eyes tried not to linger on the sharp talons the emperor had. He tried even harder not to think about the way his thumbs were able to press against the emperor’s palm and move across the dark skin there. He ran his thumb across Bad’s fingers once the glove was on, making sure it was on well.

Looking back up just briefly, he noticed that Bad was pointedly looking away and twirling a strand of hair around his finger. Etoiles gently pulled his hand away so he could work on the second glove. Bad startled and quickly looked down at his feet. 

After both gloves were on, Etoiles clipped his gauntlets in place. With everything on, he made sure that each leather tie and clasp was on tight enough that nothing slipped, but that nothing restricted any movement either. Etoiles knew how Bad fought on the battlefield: He fought in big and grand, sweeping gestures, ploughing through lines of enemies with a popping glimmer of the occasional totem (a courtesy of Foolish, of course, because to have just three totems would be almost impossible). 

As the two stood at the flap of Bad’s tent, Etoiles shifted the emperor’s helmet in his hands. He looked up at him. 

“Your helmet, my liege,” he said, lifting it up slightly. 

Bad smiled and bent his head down. Etoiles did his best not to feel his chest and cheeks flush at the way the emperor bent before him, and instead focused on slipping on the helmet just right. He moved strands of Bad’s hair away to keep it from getting caught, and slipped the helmet on just right so that his horns could fit through the openings made specially for him. Bad lifted up his chin and let Etoiles buckle the straps in place. Etoiles very pointedly did not look up at the emperor’s face, but down at where his fingers worked. He tried not to notice Bad’s small smile seen just outside of his vision. 

He secured the strap in place and stepped back. 

“Is that good for you, my liege?” he asked. 

Bad stood back up to his full height and nodded. “Come now, Etoiles. Let’s gather the troops.”

His knight followed dutifully behind. 

___

Etoiles winced as a loud bang rattled through his ears. The earth rocked with the force of cannons, and arrows whistled in the air. He knocked into Bad as he backed up, the aura’s that surrounded their feet melting into one. Any soldier or mage that tried to breach it was jolted with electricity. Smoke stung Etoiles’s eyes as he squinted from the residue of lingering magic that burned the fields. Bad was hardly affected by it, his grin wide as he plunged his talons through a mage’s chest. His teeth bared, and Etoiles was enchanted. Etoiles raised his sword and swept through crowding lines of soldiers with a blast of magic that followed the arc of his blade. He found it hard to breathe as the metallic and bitter scent of gunpowder and smoke thickened in the air, fire beginning to spread. Something had gone terribly wrong on someone’s side. 

Bad suddenly broke away from him, and Etoiles shouted in alarm. Their combined aura’s broke, and Etoiles cursed. If anyone with a larger aura than their individual ones hit them, then they’d be killed. Etoiles valiantly chased after his lunatic of an emperor. The more he watched Bad in battles, he realized that his fighting style wasn’t admirable, but suicidal. 

“My liege!” Etoiles shouted, but his voice was lost in the roar of battle. An arrow whistled by the plate of his shoulder armour. He summoned a blast of magic and hit a soldier in his way. 

Bad’s back was turned. Etoiles tried to load enough magic into his sword to hit a soldier behind him, but it was weak, and it missed, and--

Bad screamed as the sword went between the plates of his armour and through his chest. The pop of a totem sparked around him, healing over the sword that was still jammed in his skin. He spun around on the soldier who had stabbed him and plunged his claws through the man’s chest. He ripped the sword from himself just as Etoiles grabbed him fiercely. 

“My liege! My-- you--”

“Calm down, Etoiles,” Bad chided, half sternly, half kindly. They were in battle after all, what was Etoiles doing distracting him, oh god, how could he have missed such a blatant hit?! 

“You-- the sword--”

“Go, Etoiles!” Bad shouted, cutting the knight off. He sent a circling blast of magic around them, cutting through any man within their radius. “The west lines need you again! I’ll be fine!”

Etoiles loathed to leave his emperor. He had always, always, been able to deflect a blow from Bad. Why-- Why--? 

Etoiles ran. He shouted orders to men on horses, and the message went down the lines, forcing their army to encircle the enemy’s. It was beautiful, it was to plan, and Etoiles still was horrified that he had missed the shot. 

___

It wasn’t a big deal, Etoiles reasoned with himself. By the time he had returned to camp, he was over it. Bad was clearly fine and had a special pep to his step having won the battle. Etoiles even got to sit on Bad’s bed next to him and polish their armour as Bad read off a list of future plans he had ready. Really, it wasn’t a big deal. Bad had a totem on hand. He was a demon. He was fine. 

Why had it panicked him so much though? Maybe in that moment everything Etoiles had trained to do to perfection had crumbled down on him. He had missed the shot where it mattered, and if Bad had been anyone but Bad, then he wouldn’t be sitting here smiling as he listened to his emperor’s little rambles. 

Etoiles stared at his reflection in the armour. A masked face with white eyes blinked back. The stars in his hair were soiled with mud, dirt, and dust. Bad tapped him on the cheek. Etoiles blushed and turned. 

“Etoiles,” Bad smiled. 

The knight smiled back nervously. “My liege.”

Bad’s lips twitched a bit at the title. He flicked a strand of Etoiles’s hair out of his face as a teasing gesture. With his cheeks feeling hot, Etoiles wondered if it was even permitted for a knight and his lord to act like they did at times. 

Bad’s expression softened. “You know you don’t have to worry about me, right? I literally can’t die. That’s kind of my thing,” he smiled. 

Etoiles resisted a scowl. Of course his emperor had picked up on his thoughts. 

He sighed. 

“Ah, I know. It’s a silly thing to be caught up on. It’s just… you don’t really know what can kill you and… I’ve never missed a shot. I’ve never messed up like that; I’m the best soldier in the army! And I-- I don’t… like seeing you hurt. You don’t really mind from what I can tell but…”

Bad hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose I can see that. …Have I ever told you that I was beheaded once?”

Etoiles gasped, staring at his emperor agape. 

“You jest?” he asked after a speechless moment.

“Nope! I ended up at this royal wedding, which is really weird because I wasn’t invited to any sort of wedding, but I guess the queen really didn’t want her wedding cake to be eaten before the ceremony was over, and it was considered treason or whatever. I thought for sure it was the end of me once they cut my head off, but then I just popped right back up! Now I can’t be beheaded, who woulda thunk. And believe me, people have tried,” Bad laughed, seeming far too delighted for his own good. 

“...My liege,” Etoiles said wearily. “This only makes me worry more for you. The fact that there have been multiple attempts like that is worrisome.”

Bad laughed. “I promise I won’t get into that kind of trouble with you!” he reassured. “But… in all my years of life, I haven’t ever seen someone as talented and passionate as you in the battlefield,” he smiled. “You have a true gift, Etoiles. I sometimes purposely put myself out there in battle, and… you mean to tell me you’ve never missed a shot? Not once? Not even when you first started training?”

Etoiles flushed. “Well, I mean-- that-- that was years ago when I was young and stupid. This is now.”

Bad patted his knee. “Give yourself more credit, Etoiles. You don’t have to be perfect. You may lose a battle or two, but you’ll win a hundred more. And if you meet your match, then you’ll get even better. Easier said than done, of course, but… I think you can do it.”

He smiled, and Etoiles had to look away. His words caught in his throat, and Bad turned away with a happy hum. Perhaps no words needed to be spoken. 

***

It was very easy to notice the strange amount of paintings in the emperor’s palace that all held one subject. It was the diamond man from the first portrait Etoiles had watched Bad hang, and he had counted probably over thirty portraits or allusions to the man throughout the palace (cornflowers and diamonds were a part of the palace’s decor). Etoiles was ashamed to admit that he asked the servants and other knights if they had heard any rumours about who the man could be. He brushed off his slight guilt as information to serve his emperor better. What he got wasn’t very helpful though.

Of course most of the rumours were romantic. It wasn’t a secret that the emperor wasn’t very romantic himself, so the prospect of a secret lover-- past or unrequited-- was an appealing story. The abundant portraits also helped that theory along, but Etoiles wasn’t sure. Bad loved to talk. He talked about anything and everything, but he never once mentioned a past lover or man made of diamonds. Bad didn’t talk about the people in his past much at all, in fact.

So Etoiles wasn’t sure what he should think, or if he should even think anything. Whatever it was, it was clearly a part of Bad’s private life. Maybe he sponsored an artist that happened to paint only one subject. 

…Yeah right. 

Etoiles knew he should be mature about this and just approach Bad about it directly, but Bad was still the emperor, and he didn’t want to ask anything that might offend him.

The curiosity was overwhelming though. 

“My liege,” he began quietly one night. “I have a question, and I hope that you will hear me out when I do ask it.”

Bad looked up from the book he was reading on his armchair, the fireplace crackling. He smiled. “Of course. What is it?”

Etoiles hesitated before kneeling, dropping his head. Bad seemed taken aback by the gesture. Before he could protest, the knight said, 

“I know it is something you have asked me not to mention before, but I can’t help but wonder, my liege. And…Please forgive me if this angers you, but… Who is the man you have hung in so many paintings?”

A long silence began to stretch between the two. Etoiles felt his lips go dry, and his heart pound in his chest. His neck prickled with sweat when the emperor sighed. 

“It’s alright, Etoiles,” Bad said tiredly. “There’s no need to kneel. Most days I don’t feel like an emperor at all, so please… Sit.”

He gestured to the open armchair next to him, and Etoiles felt frozen for a moment. He took the offer though, not that he would dare to deny it. His armour felt awkward as he sat. 

“I’m not mad, don’t worry,” Bad assured. “I simply haven’t felt like answering the question before. Maybe I thought… Well… Maybe I thought that talking about it would be too painful. But that’s gotten me nowhere, I think.”

Bad hesitated before fiddling with the necklace around his neck. He took it off and handed it to Etoiles. The knight took it gently, cradling it in the palm of his hand. It felt so fragile and sacred to hold this precious item in his hand. 

“You can open it,” Bad murmured with a shrug. 

Carefully tracing his nail around the edges of the clasp, Etoiles opened the necklace. Inside was the man who haunted the palace walls, physical blue diamond dust against his cheeks. Dry cornflower petals lay inside. 

“That’s Skeppy,” Bad said, an achingly fond look in his eyes, his voice soft and quiet. “I loved him more than the entire world. He was the only immortal I ever met and… we have been bound together through universes.”

From anyone else it would have sounded like heartfelt poetry, but from Bad, it would be unthinkable to question its truth. Etoiles felt his own heart ache looking down at the painting of the smiling man. 

“I can’t… begin to describe him,” Bad laughed, shaking his head. “Just that… he did everything he could to make me happy. I think his worst fear was seeing me cry. My worst fear was seeing him hurt or afraid. He was my anchor since I’ve always had trouble staying grounded in reality. It’s… difficult for me to remember myself sometimes, to feel human and alive, but he made it feel so easy.”

Silence settled between knight and emperor. It felt comfortable and easy, but Etoiles dreaded how the story would end. The love that poured into Bad’s voice when talking about his old lover! It made Etoiles want to pull him from the afterlife just so his emperor could truly be free and happy again. It made Etoiles realise that… as if a knight could already never love his lord, Bad’s heart would always have another’s anyway. 

Bad sighed, his smile sad. “I loved him for millennia. I mourned him for a thousand years before creating this empire. I hope to follow him into our next lives one day. But for now, I’ve realised, I still have a duty to complete here. Even though the journey will be painful. But… We’ll be together one day in the end. I know it.”

Etoiles gently handed the necklace back to his emperor. He felt his heart break at the genuine love and tragedy of it all. 

His emperor did not want to live, but he soldiered on in the face of duty. And… foolishly, perhaps, Etoiles wondered if this meant he would see his emperor in another life. Or was this their first life together? Was it their last? 

How fleeting was this moment? 

“Thank you for sharing this with me, my liege. …Bad,” Etoiles whispered.

“And thank you for listening, Etoiles,” Bad smiled in return. He stood up and took Etoiles’s hand for a moment, squeezing it in appreciation before moving away to get dressed for the night. Etoiles squeezed his hand tightly into a fist, staring at the fire. 

***

Etoiles was having a… rough time. 

He tripped during a sparring match when usually he was formidable, but at least it was someone he was close to that managed to catch him guard and not some novice. He would have walked right off a cliff in embarrassment; not like he wasn’t already embarrassed for the stupid mistake he had made in front of a dozen others and the knowledge that Bad liked to watch their practices. 

His magic was faltering as he tried to strain his mind to hit its target with position, and it left him nervous and unsure of himself whenever he stood guard by Bad’s side. He couldn’t even aim right, what was wrong with him! He didn’t dare tell Bad though, out of shame. Maybe he was pushing himself too hard, Etoiles tried to reason, but there was no way he could be doing that, because he was doing the same routine he always had! 

So he opted out of competitions in fear of someone seeing him stumble. He practised his footwork more than usual, and it only served to make him more frustrated. He flushed with embarrassment when he caught Bad walking by with concern in his eyes. He looked away from the emperor, a furrow in his brow. 

Had Bad noticed he wasn’t leaping at the opportunity for one of the empire’s jousts and spars? Maybe, but when asked, Etoiles merely said that he just wanted to focus on his job more. 

“It’s hardly a job, Etoiles. You know I’ll be fine for a little bit if you want to go,” Bad said kindly with a smile. 

But it only made him feel more useless to hear Bad say that, because of course he already knew Bad didn’t need him around for protection! Just-- just what was the point of everything now then, if he couldn’t even be a proper guard or soldier. 

He set his jaw and tried not to glare at his emperor, who was dear to his heart. “I know that, but let me do what I want to do. …Please.”

He added that last part reluctantly, his foul mood making it hard to remain polite. 

Bad raised a brow. “As you wish.”

So Etoiles stood by Bad’s side throughout the games, watching the competitors with no small amount of jealousy. 

***

Over dinner one night in the emperor’s chambers, Bad coughed and held his drink out with a screwed up expression. 

“Ah. I believe this has some hemlock in it.”

Etoiles’s eyes widened and he quickly took the chalice from his emperor. “What? Are you sure?”

“Yup! Hemlock has a distinct taste to me. Unfortunately, I’ve already died from it before, so it can’t kill me again,” Bad said with a grin. He smiled up at Etoiles cheekily. 

“You-- You are infuriating!” Etoiles exclaimed. 

He stormed over to one of the windows and dumped the water out into the flowers there. “I’m getting someone to either clean this out or get rid of it entirely. And then I’ll gather people to start an investigation on who would do--”

“Etoiles!” Bad cut in hurridley, standing up. “Really you don’t have to. It’s just a waste of time since they can’t actually kill me. Besides, don’t you think it’d be funny if they keep getting annoyed and angry because they can’t figure out why no amount of poison can kill me?” 

Etoiles whipped around.

“Wh-- no! No. I am your guard, Bad. I know you are an all-powerful being, but please, let me pretend I can do my job and protect you! People want to kill you, does that not concern you?!” Etoiles exclaimed incredulously. “You brush all these threats off like they are nothing and it worries me, but every day you go, ‘oh Etoiles, do not worry, I have already died to people doing horrible things to me before! I don’t need your help.’”

He said the last part far more bitterly than he had meant it, and almost regretted it when he saw how hurt Bad looked.  

“Etoiles, I don’t mean it like that. I just don’t want you to be stressed over me. The idea of people looking out for me… It’s… strange.”

Etoiles sighed, looking down. “I-- I know. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I… I’m sorry. …My liege. I will go get this cup dealt with so it may not accidentally poison a future guest, and… I will be back.”

Bad sighed, but he looked more relaxed now. Still worried, but less like Etoiles had attempted to stab him. “Alright. Thank you, Etoiles.”

The knight nodded, and he left. 

When he came back, neither spoke about the argument, and instead they sat together listening to the different vinyl records Bad had collected over the years. The emperor leaned back with a smile, and Etoiles stared into the fire, the sound of drums and violins swirling around his head. 

***

Etoiles, a week later, caught Bad in an open training ring practising footwork with a lithe and beautiful thin blade. Etoiles took a deep breath and walked up, clutching the hilt of his sword. He approached the emperor, who stopped his practice with a smile. 

“Ah, Etoiles! I didn’t think you came out here at this time.”

Aside from the fact that Bad knew a very specific part of his schedule, Etoiles said, unflustered, “I challenge you to a duel.”

It was bold, and Bad raised his brow. “You want… to spar with me?”

“Yes. Please.” 

He tried not to sound desperate. 

Bad shifted on his feet, suddenly looking… uncomfortable. Usually Etoiles would love that look in his opponents. Seeing fear and uncertainty in them was a delight. 

But not when it came from his emperor, who already knew far too much about his current failings in fighting and who knew how highly he held his own skill. The shifty way Bad looked away only served to make the knight’s heart pinch. 

“I… okay, but don’t expect me to go too hard. I’m not the best at 2v2,” Bad said eventually. 

“Yeah right.” 

Bad smiled and the two took their respective positions on opposite ends of the area. Bad counted down agonisingly slow with a stupid grin that Etoiles rolled his eyes at good naturedly. And then Bad darted forward. He jabbed for Etoiles’s shoulder, the knight moving away from it, grabbing the emperor’s wrist. Before he could do anything, Bad had stepped on Etoiles’s foot, twisting his wrist out of the maneuver . Both twirled around, and Etoiles gasped. He knew several times Bad could have easily have him there. Bad could have immediately gotten him in the stomach upon breaking out of the attempted disarming grab, or cut him across the legs. Etoiles hadn’t moved fast enough away from Bad’s initial strike, so the emperor could have easily grabbed him there. Bad wasn’t even moving half as fast as he usually did on the battlefields. 

“Come now, my liege, you could have done better than that,” Etoiles called. 

“Maybe,” was all Bad replied. 

Etoiles went forward. Bad blocked him and slid the knight’s blade off his own. Bad kicked him in the knee, and Etoiles staggered. He instinctively blocked his stomach, which was just what Bad tried to go for. Their swords hit and slid off of each other again. Bad continuously went for hits against Etoiles’s legs again, as he tried to avoid any other attempt made by Etoiles to disarm him. Bad advanced forward, pressing Etoiles back. In one desperate move Etoiles lunged forward and barely knocked Bad’s shoulder. Unfortunately, the “barely grazed” part of that sentence meant that Bad shifted out of the way and slammed the pommel of his sword against Etoiles’s wrist. While usually he would have been able to retain a grip after such an attempt, the sword clattered out of Etoiles’s hand. He stood shocked for a moment. He just now registered that they had developed a small crowd, watching. He whipped around to face Bad. 

“I hope that didn’t hurt--” Bad rushed to say immediately. 

“My liege!” Etoiles shouted, his voice hurt and aghast. Bad blinked in surprise. “You had several opportunities to take me down! Why didn’t you?”

Bad looked confused. “Sometimes I miss an opening, Etoiles,” he said. “Besides, this is just a spar, right?”

“No! I demand we go again! Don’t hold back on me!”

Bad sighed wearily. “Alright.”

They went off at the count again. Bad’s movements were slightly faster this time, but still nothing like what Etoiles had witnessed on the battlefields. 

“Go faster,” Etoiles gritted out, getting frustrated with himself, getting caught off guard by childish tricks Bad dared to use on him, like he was a novice. But maybe he was a novice if such tricks still worked. 

“Etoiles--” Bad protested, but in a sudden move, whipped to the ground and kicked Etoiles’s legs out from under him. The knight fell with a shout, hitting the dirt. He waited for Bad to pin him with the sword. 

It never came. He looked up, Bad standing just at his feet. The knight shot up, glaring. 

“Do I not even get an honourable defeat at your hands, my liege?” he spat. 

“I…”

Bad didn’t know how to explain. Etoiles stormed up. 

“Why aren’t you fighting against me properly? Are you just humiliating me with lacklustre skills, like I am new at this?”

“Etoiles…” Bad said, shifting uncomfortably. He wouldn’t look his knight in the eyes. “You know that’s not it.”

Etoiles couldn’t help himself. “Are you babying me? Do you think I am weak? That I cannot handle myself in a fight? I can! I will! You will not insult me any further by-- by holding back like you would towards a child!” he shouted. 

He was aware, through the heat of his chest, that people were looking at the two of them. To speak in such a way towards the emperor was a horrifying prospect. 

“Etoiles,” Bad replied simply with a shake of his head, “I just don’t want to fight you. There are… reasons I shouldn’t, and they are far beyond just your skill. Please.”

Bad tentatively held the knight’s gaze. Etoiles scowled. 

“Fine,” he spat, stalking away. 

He heard Bad sigh, and that only served to make him angrier. 

 ***

Etoiles probably exhausted nearly the entire army running through drills and practices, practically demanding it from everyone he met. It was rigorous, it was good, it was stupid, and it hurt. Really, it helped keep away the awful embarrassment from his argument with Bad. He struck fast and hard at training dummies and grappled with soldiers just so he could hold a blade to their throats. He practised his magic auras in the arenas.

At times he could see Bad watching the training, but every time he turned to get a good look, Bad was gone. Etoiles scowled again, sweat dripping off his brow. 

Weak, weak, weak. 

Of course, as the emperor’s personal guard, Etoiles couldn’t avoid Bad for long. He dragged his feet to the emperor’s chambers one exhausted day. He felt drained and numb. 

He knocked. 

Bad called him in. 

He stared at his feet and could practically feel Bad’s smile. Etoiles walked over to where Bad sat in front of the fire, working on diamond embroidery. 

“I’m glad to see you again,” Bad began carefully. 

Etoiles pursed his lips. Could he say the same? He felt nothing but dread in his heart right now. 

“I want to start with an apology,” he managed, finally.

“Oh, there’s really no need--” Bad cut in, but Etoiles stopped him with a sharp shake of his head. 

“It was not… professional of me to act that way. I started the fight, and you reacted accordingly.”

Bad considered Etoiles thoughtfully. Finally he said quietly, “You’ve gotten frustrated over your fighting, recently.” 

It was not stated as a question, but as a fact. 

The words should have stung, but now Etoiles was just resigned to the fact. He looked away. “I… Yes. I am the best knight in the guard. I was when I served my old king, and now I am the best of the emperor’s army. I built myself up to this level by being flawless; I was the strongest and always craved a bigger fight. And now… I just…”

He trailed off miserably, staring at his feet. It felt wrong to have his sword hang from his side. 

“Oh Etoiles… Even angels aren’t perfect. My Father was not perfect. You, Etoiles, are truly one of the most fascinating humans I have ever met, with a stunning talent for the blade. But you are human. It’s only natural that you make a few mistakes. But that’s how you will get better, no? You’re not perfect. There’s a reason you’re always wanting a tougher fight, and that’s because you don’t falter in any of the others. There’s no struggle or challenge or missed hits, so you always seek better competition where you do struggle.”

Etoiles couldn’t help how his head snapped up upon hearing his emperor’s words. Bad’s smile was kind. 

“I… Have really never thought about it that way,” he admitted lamely. 

Bad laughed, and Etoiles was relieved to hear the sound of it. “Then I hope you won’t be too hard on yourself anymore. Or any harder than you need to be, at least. I learned long ago not to try and chase perfection; to put it bluntly, it’s just not worth it,” he said, smiling wryly. 

Etoiles gave a breathless chuckle, on the verge of weeping. It felt like a weight had just been lifted off of his shoulders. “No. It really isn’t.”

I’m not worthless to you after all, my liege, he thought to himself. 

Why he had ever thought Bad would replace him now seemed stupid, but the idea had been very real to him just a few minutes ago. 

Etoiles nearly jumped out of his skin when Bad took his hand and held it loosely. 

“There now.”

That was all he said before letting go. Etoiles felt like choking, his cheeks heating up. Thank god he didn’t visibly blush. 

Pushing embarrassment aside, Etoiles asked, “But why didn’t you fight at your full potential? I have seen you use it on enemy soldiers before.” 

Bad sat back and tilted his head with a half smile as he looked away. “Oh… The reason for that and why I didn’t deliver the final shot is that… Well, I am scared to hurt you, Etoiles, but only because I can lose control of myself. And to be completely honest, I had forgotten about the final blow rule!”

Etoiles couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I suppose I have been foolish. Thank you for that. But I don’t understand why you didn’t contradict me. You are the emperor. Even if I was right, you could have gotten… mad is not the right word but… you do it a lot. People get mad at you for strange things and you go along with it. It’s wrong for them to do so, and you cannot keep letting them do it!”

The fire crackled between them. Bad hummed in thought, aware of Etoiles’s eyes lingering on him steadily, his chest heaving. 

“Well, it’s obviously because I’m a demon,” he smiled eventually.

Etoiles frowned, a bit surprised by the wording. The emperor was mainly described as a “fallen angel,” and “demon” was a rather derogatory term. 

“I don’t understand,” he said. 

“Well I don’t know, Etoiles. I guess it’s just natural to blame the demon. I don’t really have a great track record anyway, so when something goes wrong it’s probably because of my nefarious jokes,” Bad replied with a little grin. “I’m the worst part of everyone put into one. I’m a liar. A conniver, if you will. And some bridges are best staying burnt. It would have to happen one day.”

“What do you mean by that? Not everything has to end on bad terms,” Etoiles scoffed. 

“Well… For me it does. Everyone has to be let go at some point, and it’s best that they aren’t sad when I’m gone. I can’t ever stay in one place.”

“But… that’s not fair to you or them. They’ll hate you for something that isn’t even your fault! How many times have you let people hate you for their own mistake? They order you in battle and then get mad?”

Etoiles was almost angry now. Not really at his emperor, but at the entire situation. And Bad was just… sitting there. 

Etoiles took a deep breath. 

“You understand, my liege,” he started slowly, “that I cannot stand by and have people soil your name.”

“It’s alright, Etoiles,” Bad laughed, smiling kindly. “You don’t need to do that for me. Please.”

Silence passed between them for a moment, Etoiles still hanging his head in slight shame. Bad inhaled a sweet breath, as if taking in the scenery, and patted the seat next to him. 

“Let me tell you a story,” he told the knight with a gentle smile.

Hesitating for only a moment, Etoiles shuffled over to his emperor’s side and sat where instructed. Bad’s smile was still sweet, and he patted the armour on Etoiles’s thigh in approval before humming in thought for a moment. Etoiles’s face burned with a blush. His hand reflexively covered where Bad had touched him. 

“Skeppy always made fun of my fighting,” the emperor said eventually, his voice light and his expression reminiscent. He laughed. “In fact, he did everything he possibly could to make a fool out of me. He loved to play pranks, you see. He was an amazing strategist and builder too. The things he could make! He built us a mansion once, and it was purely made of quartz. I liked quainter things, but the mansion was something special to the both of us.”

Etoiles took in just how happy his emperor looked while talking about his late lover. It was almost… Relieving. Etoiles found himself smiling as well. He listened, enraptured by the way Bad told stories, his voice always soothing to listen to. His hands motioned about in expressive and funny ways too. 

“But anyway, Skeppy was always much better at fighting than me. I had brute strength of course, and some cheating with my demonic powers, but I was always better at slipping away and escaping, or doing sneak attacks. He was a master at fighting and always made fun of my strategies.” Here Bad rolled his eyes. “He fought two handed mostly, with two daggers or sticks. Sometimes he used a long ranged weapon. But he was so elegant when he fought too, something I don’t have. You would have loved to spar with him, I think. Oh, I wish you could have met him, Etoiles!” the emperor lamented, his expression dropping. 

His voice broke a bit at the end, but before Etoiles could do anything to assure it, a smile crept its way back into Bad’s lips. 

“But… that won’t ever happen. And that’s okay, I think. I won’t be separated from him forever, because there’s always our next life. …So… I guess I said all that because… I never really did believe I was good at fighting. Not compared to Skeppy, being the muffinhead that he is. …Was. But maybe I would like to spar with you more, Etoiles. Maybe I can learn from you.”

“From me?” Etoiles repeated, taken aback. He had been so absorbed into what Bad had been telling him that the words shocked him out of that haze. 

“Of course! Like I said, I’m only really good at escaping or tanking in fights as long as I have totems on me. I never trained with Skeppy, so maybe I can finally properly learn how to fight.”

“My liege, I--”

Etoiles found himself at a loss for words, and he thought for a moment that he might actually grab his emperor’s hands in pure delight and excitement. 

“I would love it if we could do that,” he managed finally, nearly breathless at the thought. 

And his emperor beamed.

Etoiles truly made him happy.