Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The first time Princess Judith Hopps saw him, he was a smudge of copper and crimson against the grimy cobblestones of the Warrens, Bunnyburrow’s poorest quarter. A young fox kit, no older than twelve, was trapped, his back to a damp brick wall as two badger guards loomed over him. One held a wooden cudgel.

“Last chance, thief,” one guard grunted. “Where’s the purse?”

The fox trembled, but lifted his chin. His green eyes held a defiant fire.

“Stubborn little fool,” the guard sneered, swinging his cudgel for emphasis. “And stupid, too. Who steals a bag of coin, then comes back to the same tavern for a leftover tankard?”

“It’s a shame… to waste good ale,” the fox rasped, his voice raw from a thirst that seemed days old.

Judy, who had slipped away from her minder, watched from behind a market stall. She did not see any thief. She saw a child playing a part far too grim for his years.

“Stop!”

The guards turned. Their irritation melted into shock as they recognized the small figure in the fine lavender gown.

“Princess! This is no place for you,” one badger stammered.

Judith stepped forward, her nose twitching. She looked past them to the fox. He stared back, his defiant mask slipping into pure confusion.

“What is his crime?”

“Petty theft, Your Highness. He’s a known nuisance.”

“A known nuisance?” Judy repeated softly. Her gaze settled on the fox. “What is your name?”

He hesitated, clever eyes assessing her. “…Nick. Nicholas Wilde.”

“Well, Nicholas Wilde,” Judy said, folding her paws. “The guard says you stole a coin purse. Did you?”

Silence stretched. Nick’s eyes darted from her earnest violet gaze to the guards’ stern faces. Truth was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Yet, something in her look demanded it.

“…No,” he finally muttered. “I… dropped it. In the alley, when I saw them coming.” He nodded toward a shadowed gutter.

A half-truth offered, offered like a peace treaty. Judy’s mouth quirked.

She turned to the guards. “Find the purse and return it. As for him, he is my responsibility now.”

Then she extended a paw not to the guards, but to Nick. “Come.”

He stared at her offered paw as if it were a trap. Hope was a more dangerous trick than any he’d ever run. Slowly, his grimy paw met her clean one, but he didn't let her pull him up. He got up himself, as if ashamed of his own dirt. 

She led him to her parents, King Stu and Queen Bonnie Hopps.

“Judy, where have you been–?” Stu’s question cut as he saw the fox behind her. The old stories of sly, dangerous foxes flashed in his mind. He moved at once, pulling Judy behind him. “Guards!”

“Father, no–!”

“Bonnie, the fox repellent!” Stu shouted.

Nick flinched, ready to bolt. But Judy darted from behind her father to stand between them. “Wait. Please.”

Bonnie placed a steadying paw on her husband’s arm.

“Stu. Look at me. Breathe,” she said, her voice low and firm. She held his gaze until his frantic breathing hitched and slowed. “Now, look at him.”

Stu’s protective glare shifted from Judy to the fox. He saw the boy’s hunched shoulders, the way he tried to make himself smaller, the dirt and weariness that spoke of nights in alleyways.

“He's just a kit, Stu,” Bonnie murmured. “Scared and probably starving.”

Judy, still standing slightly in front of Nick, nodded fiercely. “Guards were hurting him, Dad.”

Stu’s shoulders slumped. The anger drained from him, replaced by a heavy weariness. He ran a paw down his face. The idea of a savage beast faded, leaving only a scrawny, trembling child. A flush of shame crept up his neck.

“Woo,” he exhaled, a long, shaky sound. He rubbed the back of his neck, then forced himself to meet the fox’s wary gaze. “Thought you were… Sorry, son.”

Nick said nothing, his face a careful blank.

Stu, still flustered from his own outburst, turned to his daughter, his voice softening with concern.

“So, Judy, where did you find this kit?”

“He was cornered,” Judy explained, her ears lowering. “The guards said he’s a thief. Well…” She grew flustered too. “...He did steal a coin purse, but he returned it.”

Understanding finally clicked for Stu. He looked from his daughter to the filthy, silent fox kit. The desperate theft, the public shame.

His stern expression settled back, but now it was directed at the situation.

“I see, but stealing is wrong,” Stu continued, his gaze holding Nick’s. His tone was firm, but the earlier heat was gone, replaced by the weary gravity of a ruler. “Judy’s mercy is a lucky gift. You cannot expect it a second time. Remember that.”

“Let this be your lesson,” Bonnie added, her voice kinder but no less firm.

Nick only nodded, then was seized by a dry, wrenching cough. His throat burned.

Judy recognized it at once. She sprinted to their ornate carriage and returned with a water container. It was gilded, adorned with the Hopps family crest, meant for noble lips.

Nick stared at it, then at her. The water within smelled faintly of herbs and cleanliness. Judy offered a soft, encouraging smile.

He took it and drank furiously, water overflowing to soak his tattered tunic. Stu and Bonnie exchanged a glance, first stunned, then quietly proud of their daughter’s profound, unthinking kindness.

Nick finally pulled the container away, gasping.

Judy did something then that stilled them all. She knelt, coming eye-to-eye with the soggy, exhausted kit on the cobbles.

“Princess, don’t…” Nick’s voice was a ragged whisper. A princess doesn’t kneel.

“You were thirsty,” Judy said, as if it explained everything. “No one should be that thirsty. Where is your family, Nicholas? Who looks after you?”

Nick looked away, his ears flattening. The silence that followed was heavier than any shout.

Nick’s voice, when it came, was barely a whisper to the stones. 

“It’s just… me.”

The truth settled over them. This wasn't mischief. It was survival, done alone.

“I have no family…”

Bonnie’s eyes softened. “You poor child. You must have suffered so much.”

“Oh dear…” Stu said, scratching his ear. “Wish we could help. Ah! We could send you to the Swampy Orphanage. It's a good place for children without families. Because... well, it's not a family either.”

His tone began to turn awkward as he listed the “benefits.”

“You won’t be afraid of getting hot in summer, because the children there... well, they often go without clothes. No water to wash them, you see. And the sleeping quarters are good quality, too! Last time I visited… Hmm… there was a bit of a smell. Some of the little ones can't make it to the toilet on their own…”

Judy, Nick, Bonnie, and even Stu himself began to question the offer.

“I think… I’d rather stay like this…” Nick mumbled. 

“Well, young man, then you’ll just go back to theft, get caught, and be beaten!” Stu said, his logic missing the mark entirely.

Nick looked like he would accept being beaten rather than go to that place.

Judy’s expression was full of a fierce, final compassion. She reached out and took his dirty paws in her clean ones.

“Then I’ll be your family.”

Nick’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Bonnie and Stu were stunned silent.

“Nicholas Wilde,” Princess Judith Hopps said, her voice clear and sure. “Be my family.”

In that moment, a thief found his light.